Monday, August 31, 2015

Review: The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger

I wish I could write you a better summary about the book, but I'm finding that hard to do as not much really... happened in the story. It's basically an angry teenage boy ranting about all the things that irritate him and all the things he hates (and, believe me, there are quite a lot of things that he hates). He has severe problems with most of the people in his life and spends much of his time complaining about them, but, at the same time, he compulsively needs to be around them.

Let me try to summarize. Holden Caulfield has just flunked out of school. From the way he attempts to keep this from his parents for a lengthy amount of time, I'd guess this isn't the first time he's been expelled. He spends a great deal of time in the city, uses an exorbitant amount of money on bars, food, and taxis, rents a hooker that he only wants to talk to, and goes on a date with a girl that he loathes. Thought Holden tells us his story as though it is current, he does allocate a great deal of time for ruminating on things that happened in the not-so-recent past, such as the death of his brother, Allie.

Allie's death is subtle but quite significant, although Holden himself never quite tells us that. The way I interpreted his reaction was that he became embittered and hateful because of the death (before the start of this story). The loss caused him to hate everyone and everything. Maybe this is the case; maybe it isn't. Maybe he's just legitimately an angry person with no reason for being angry other than being alive.

I didn't spend too much time trying to psychoanalyze Holden. It's just hard not to notice how hardened and cynical he is, particularly for a teenager. I've heard it said that he is an icon for teen rebellion, but, honestly, I didn't see a whole lot of rebelling at all. If by "rebelling," people mean that he spent all of his money wandering around in the city for a few days, then I guess the saying is true. I guess his notorious defiance is more evident in the way he tells things rather than what he does.

Don't get me wrong: I love Holden. The book is certainly funny. Holden is certainly enjoyable. He truly is the opposite of an exemplary person. He really is quite the character, hilarious and delightfully derisive. Really, if he hadn't been, I don't know that I would have made it through the (less than) 200-page book. I just couldn't get past the fact that I kept waiting and waiting for something to happen and it never did.

Certain bizarre and/or uncomfortable things occur in the book, such as his classmate's suicide and his teacher's strange behavior when Holden spends the night. There's the hooker's pimp that demands twice as much money as he initially asked for. There's the girl named Jane who Holden continuously thinks about calling but never does. There's the promise of a fight when he encounters a girl he doesn't like in the bar. There are all of these things that promise action and never amount to anything. There's all this constant rising action, but it never leads to a climax.

I guess the faint moral of this story would have to be that innocence should be preserved and held onto as long as humanly possible. Holden is surprisingly defensive when it comes to people he views as having fewer hard-life experiences than he has, such as when his roommate dates a girl he used to know. He's constantly mindful and watchful of his younger sister. It seems like his biggest wish is that his sister not end up like him, even though he's quite young to be so hopeless.

When I finished this book, I felt like I was missing something. For years, I've viewed this book as a hole in my personal literary prowess, something that was necessary to read. In fact, when other people talked about it, I was rather embarrassed that I hadn’t read the book, and that shame is what led me to reading it now.

I enjoyed Holden, despite the fact that he is a miserable hypocrite, but I still don't get the famous
big deal or how this was a life-changing experience for so many generations.

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Review: Me and Earl and the Dying Girl by Jesse Andrews

This little book is exactly what the title says it will be. It is the story of our narrator, his friend Earl, and a girl dying of cancer (Rachel-but she may as well go unnamed because she has a surprisingly little part in the story). Our narrator, Greg, is a social skater, friendly with every clique but never connected with one group more than another. He prefers to remain an obscure part of the crowd, lest someone get close to him and hate what they see. His only friend is an angry, short guy named Earl. Since they discovered their shared interest in movies during childhood, they have been creating mediocre films of their own.

Greg's whole life changes when Rachel is diagnosed with leukemia. He used to be friends with Rachel when they were younger; her mom is a friend of his mom’s. His mom insists that he spend time with Rachel during her time of trouble, befriend her, and bring comfort and encouragement to her, although the severity of her condition is initially unknown. At his mother's demands, Greg comes to find that he actually enjoys spending time with Rachel because he can make her laugh so easily and she is probably the only person in the world who likes his movies.

I have to be honest with you: I did not like Rachel. This is a terrible thing to say about a dying person, even if they are fictional, but it is true. She is two-dimensional and bland, just present in the story for the convenience of it. She does not feel like a real person. Aside from her posters of half-naked celebrities and the vague "she used to read books," there are no interests, no facts, and no past events. It's like she has no history.

Let me rephrase my earlier comment: it's not that I don't like Rachel. I don't like how she is portrayed. And, in the sense of this book, she is portrayed through Greg's eyes. Maybe her vapidness can be written off as Greg simply not attempting to get to know her, but he sure seems to be trying very hard. Aside from her snorting laughter, this girl really gives him nothing in the give-and-take of conversation. 

I don't particularly like many of the other characters either. I feel as though most of them are caricatures of stereotypes. His mom, his best friend Earl, even his father as the nutty professor. Greg has everyone labeled into a group in his social ecosystem, and it definitely shows when he tells this story. Now that I think about it, nobody breaks out of the status quo.

Greg himself reminds me a whole lot of Holden Caulfield from The Catcher in the Rye. He is funny from the beginning, cynical, candid. Despite all my complaints, I cannot deny that Greg is funny. In fact, a whole lot of his quips did make me laugh out loud to the point of embarrassment. He uses dirty, middle school boy humor, and I guess I'm immature enough to appreciate it. It felt like my sense of humor was on autopilot, that I was compulsively cackling at gross things.

But many passages were good examples of "too much of a good thing." Like, Greg would say something funny and then take it way too far. He would exhaust it to the point where the original joke was no longer funny. Not to mention the general dirty talk. I’m not one to quickly say this, but the profanity in this book seems a little excessive to me.

One thing I do like about this story is the sheer lack of romance. Heck, Greg doesn't even TRY to find a girlfriend or love interest because he's so hung up himself being undateable. It does get a little old listening to his self-hating rants. And he absolutely refuses to accept any compliment ever, whether or not said compliment is true.

Even when he is realizing that he never knew Rachel or that he should have done more for Rachel or that the movie that he created for Rachel was more about him than her, that does not change the trajectory of the story. He uses these selfish self-realizations to make even more selfish self-realizations and it never turns out to be more than Greg figuring out Greg.

I'm not saying that this is not a realistic book, and I'm certainly not saying I didn't enjoy reading it. I just had a whole lot of problems with it. The main problem was that Rachel is painted into being as so much of a non-person that she hardly seems alive. Her only purpose in this story is to push Greg onto the path to fix his own life.

Greg is open and honest about all of his faults. He says from the beginning, “I learned absolutely nothing from Rachel’s leukemia.” But, see, I think he should have learned something. I think there should have been a lesson. I guess he learns more about what he wants in life, like pursuing a degree in film, but he doesn’t seem to learn much about the world or the other people in it.

Sunday, August 23, 2015

Review: Catch-22 by Joseph Heller

Let me preface this by saying that I have never really reviewed a classic, so this is a new sensation for me. But I felt too strongly about this book not to. Anyway...

Catch-22 chronicles fictional characters in a fictional country fighting in the very real World War II. The majority of these characters are soldiers with interesting names and even more interesting idiosyncrasies. The primary character (in the myriad of characters) is a fellow named Yossarian with a stronger than usual disdain for his superior officers and the authority they hold over him. You can't really blame him for said disdain, as Colonel Cathcart is  continually raising the number of missions required to complete service. 

With this trend, you'd think that more soldiers would rebel. However, most of them are only quietly disgruntled and surprisingly contented. The catch in Catch-22 states that "a man is considered insane if he willingly continues to fly dangerous combat missions, but if he makes the necessary formal request to be relieved of such missions, the very act of making the request proves that he's sane and therefore ineligible to be relieved." Aside from death, desertion, or indefinite physical illness (which Yossarian often relies on), there is legitimately no way out. (I never quite got the 22 part of Catch-22. There's not a catch 1-21... :P)

This is easily one of the funniest books I've read in my life. But, thing is, I can't really explain why it's so funny. A whole lot of it made me chuckle to myself, but huge chunks of it made me laugh out loud until I almost cried. Seriously, this is a funny book. Again, I'm not sure why, but that doesn't change the fact that it is. Especially the scene with the moaning men... Good gosh, scenes like that I had to read over and over because they are simply too comical to only read once.

Despite the hilarity, this book can be confusing, what with the multitude of characters and the fact that the story doesn't necessarily follow a chronological order. Also, if you're like me and know next to nothing about the military ranking system, it can become daunting trying to keep up with who is in charge of whom. It all gets a bit overwhelming when you think about it too much. The process I took to reading this was to try not to overthink everything. I just sort of accepted it all, let it roll over me. It's definitely not a slow read, but the reading process itself can be quite time consuming.

I was also pleasantly surprised when a story began forming out of the babble. Don't get me wrong; I enjoyed the book from the start, but, for a very long while, it seems like nonsensical ramblings from irrational soldiers and unreasonable officers. For that long while, it seems almost like Joseph Heller is painting a portrait of each individual character but leaves no overlap from character to character. There are the characters and there is the world, but the story of those characters and that world itself emerge slowly and out of a clutter of confusion.

I guess it's to be expected with a war story, but there are harsh bits of tragedy that pop up in the book. You can't have a war without violence or bloodshed, but the brutality in these pages is thrown in randomly and without warning. Some of the passages manage to freeze the world for a moment. Most of the story is a goofy, ironic view of the world. It's so absurd and silly the majority of the time that it is very easy to forget the serious subject in which it is really about.

All in all, I think this is a brilliant book. You probably had to be pretty bright back then to get a word added to the dictionary, before everyone became ridiculous.

As for the ending, I think it is perfect-the only way out of the Catch that makes sense for Yossarian, but I won't say more. Apparently there is a sequel, but I am not yet sure if I want to read it. I hate when sequels ruin the original for me, and that happens more often than not. Unlike lots of other books with lots of others words, all of the words in this particular book feel necessary. I wouldn't add or detract a thing.

SIDE NOTE: I intend to name my next pet Yossarian. It just feels right.

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Review: The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

The Perks of Being a Wallflower begins on a somber note when young Charlie finds out that his closest (and only) friend has committed suicide. Charlie does not take the death well, and he enters his first year of high school suffering from severe depression and loneliness.

He befriends his English teacher, who gives him books to read throughout the novel, but his loneliness is not abated until he meets stepsiblings Sam and Patrick at a football game. The two of them are both three years older than Charlie, but they are quick to include him in their group of friends and to show him what it is like to be in high school. They alter his taste in music, introduce him to cigarettes, alcohol, and drugs, and invite him to their various social gatherings.

Charlie's home life is not dysfunctional, but it is still somewhat strained. His family is very present in this story, particularly his sister who is also still in high school and part of a physically abusive relationship. Charlie struggles to cope with his sister's relationship as well as the death of his Aunt Helen, who is the only member of his family he ever felt connected with.

Throughout the course of the novel, Charlie goes through varying states in his relationships with all of the other characters, particularly with his family, Sam, and Patrick. Despite his friendships and somewhat decent home life, his depression continues to worsen due to the imminent separation he will undergo when all his friends leave for college. As the departure grows near, Charlie discovers a myriad of his own hidden memories that sends him into a rapid downward spiral. His recovery promises to be a difficult one.

Perhaps more than any other YA novel I have read, this book conveys what it is like to be a troubled youth with no external evidence as to why those feelings exist. The main character is kind and likable as well as easy to relate to. Even if the reader has not gone through Charlie's particular experiences, he fills in the gaps so that there is no room for confusion. Also, the overall tone of Charlie's story is very conversational and easy to follow. Charlie himself says that he writes like he talks. This conversational writing gives the reader a sense of being present within the story, rather than as a bystander looking in.

The writing is both engaging and informal. It is very intimate, like receiving a letter from a friend. Charlie does not spend much time describing places or people, but rather leaves these elements to the reader's imagination. He does not deviate often from what is actually going on. This makes it difficult for the reader to lose interest, since there is always something new occurring.

The story is extremely rich in regard to emotions. There are new and deep emotions on every page. It is quite refreshing to see the narrator so openly acknowledge the variety of his feelings, but, at the same time, he sounds incredibly… indifferent. This in itself gives the story a distinction from many others. Charlie's passivity is quite the opposite from what one would expect, given the depths of his feelings; he is one of the least defined characters I have ever encountered because of this passive nature. Despite this, he is very lovable and it is easy to become attached to him.

Not much is really revealed about the side characters in a broad sense, but rather, there are little specific things, such as Patrick's taste in music or what kind of poetry Mary Elizabeth prefers. I initially came away from the story thinking I didn't know the characters very well, but then, maybe these little details make them feel more like people after all.

This book is a great example of a young man coming out of his shell and facing his issues head on, though it takes a great deal of time and effort as well as self-actualization. There’s just about every controversial teen issue in existence: abortion, homosexuality, drugs, depression, loneliness, alcohol, altercations, physical abuse, sexual abuse, and yadda yadda ya. But these are solid issues and are very accurately portrayed.

Plus, you can sit down and read it an afternoon.

Sunday, August 16, 2015

Review: Twisted by Laurie Halse Anderson

Twisted's opening pages begin with Tyler finishing up community service he got from pulling a prank on his high school. The story quickly establishes his estranged, uncomfortable relationship with his family and other people around him. We are also introduced to Bethany, the rich, popular girl that Tyler seems to have fancied for a long but unknown amount of time.

At a party for his father's office (where we learn that Bethany's father is Tyler's father's boss), Bethany's twin brother, Chip, pushes Tyler and sends Bethany falling into glass shards that rip up her foot. Later, when forced by his mother to apologize, he and Bethany begin the start of a not-relationship.

Tyler grows closer to Bethany as the school year begins, but she is unfaithful to him and, all around, a rather unpleasant person to be around. She invites him to a party where she attempts to seduce him. When he declines, this sets off the downfall of the not-relationship. Afterward, Tyler is accused of taking nude pictures of Bethany and posting them on the Internet. Because of these accusations, assumptions are formed, leaving Tyler hated and shunned by most of the student body and forced to take his classes in private.

Throughout the novel, Tyler struggles with suicidal thoughts and bouts of extreme anger. He contemplates the pros and cons of running away versus self-harm. He is inexplicably attached to Bethany, even though she takes him for granted and treats him horribly. This is the case with a lot of high school relationships- one giving while the other is taking, but Bethany is a particularly deplorable person and I find it hard to justify Tyler's ongoing feelings for her. 

The book is predictable in many ways, but, in just as many ways, it is not. For one, I was under the assumption in the beginning that the book would be mostly about Tyler's inner healing and then the external healing of his relationship with his family. Rather, the main conflict is centered on the nude pictures and Tyler's alleged role in taking them. Then again, one thing that really surprised me was to find out how crucial his relationship with his father is. While reading the book, I just saw it as one of Tyler's many issues that skirted along on the sidelines, but, in the end, the most pivotal moment comes from a confrontation with his father. 

Perhaps I just view the overall book as predictable because I have preconceived notions how Laurie Halse Anderson's stories usually end, but aside from that, I actually don't find suspense a necessary element in a story like this one. I got to enjoy reading it for what it is- just a recounting of a troubled youth, looking to find a place where he is accepted. I enjoyed his voice, the way he tells stories.

It's hard to believe how quickly everyone you know can turn on you. I don't mean that it's hard to believe in the sense that the book portrays it unbelievably. People will do that; there's nothing fictional about it. However, it was quite incredible to feel some of Tyler's rather powerful emotions right alongside him. He certainly seemed like a real teenage guy for all of the following reasons: strained relationship with parents, being bullied and rejected, lusting after an unattainable popular girl, desiring rebellion, nurturing anger and isolation, etc.

Oh, and there's the endearing quality of his video game addiction. I don't see gaming as often as expected in YA books and, when I do, it's often trite or unnecessary. In this case, his video game use is not only relevant, it is significant. I always hate giving away too much of the end, but many of the metaphorical or subtle occurrences in this book are mirrored directly through Tyler's progress through a very difficult video game. It's not just intended for the reader to see it this way; Tyler himself views his avatar's status as a reflection of his own life.

As a longtime Laurie Halse Anderson fan, Twisted felt just a bit subpar compared to Speak or Wintergirls. But Twisted is important because it is brutally honest about issues that many people tend to avoid. Tyler does not lie about his suicidal urges, does not try to shun his impulses to physically wound those who have damaged him emotionally, and does not attempt to disguise his sexual desires when he is around Bethany. Most significantly, the book allows us a glimpse into the mind of a troubled teen that has, for the most part, been abused mentally and emotionally his entire life.