I Read This (and I'll never be the same)
So let's talk for a bit about high hopes. Seems like a timely theme, I think. I'm sure I'm not the first person to reach the realization that the higher the hope, the harder the fall. This isn't exacly the first ocassion I've had with buying the dress, planning the party, or popping the champagne, only to be let down. So I wasn't really surprised to find myself miserably disappointed with (fill in a variety of options for this blank right now) Wally Lamb's new novel.
First, let me explain why my hopes were at such a crescendo. Years ago, when I first happened upon Lamb's freshman novel, She's Come Undone, I felt as if I'd found a long lost friend. I identified with the main character, Delores, in a way you might identify with someone that resembles you but is far more interesting. Except in this case, interesting means tragic. Each time I'd read SCU (about eight in all, so far) I'd imagine myself reaching a conclusion not unlike that of Delores, patchworking a mix of unexpected people and circumstances together to create a somewhat unorthodox life. I was pleased we'd taken different paths to arrive there, but felt a sort of kinship with her and often lauded Lamb for having the talent to write a woman so well.
Lamb's second book, I Know This Much is True, used a technique that has long fascinated me, even though I didn't fall in love with the actual story. About halfway through the book, he made reference to Delores' husband, sort of in an off the cuff way that only staunch devotees would realize. It felt for me a little like a reunion that was a long time coming. I wanted to run screaming at the character, asking how Delores had been, if the waterbed was still in the living room, and if Roberta was still frequenting the dog races. Even the dullest of writers can grab my attention by weaving characters and themes and settings through books that otherwise would not interest me. It feels a bit like a great joke that I'll just never quite understand, but that I am desperate to be a part of.
So when Lamb mentioned Delores in his latest book, The Hour I First Believed, I was, at the very least, excited. I recognized her early on, possibly long before other readers would have picked up on it. It was a passing reference at first, one where I hoped he was talking about her, much like when you overhear someone talking about how an old flame is doing, and you don't really want to ask, but your ears are straining to hear. Once he got around to making it clear that he was indeed reintroducting Delores in this story, I felt my heart break in half. Without too many specifics, all of the things Delores had worked to overcome during her story, her triumphant launch into a life of average occurences and appreciation of solitude, seemed somewhat broken. It wasn't that she wasn't happy in THIFB. It wasn't as if she stalked into the bakery she was entering, grasping her fifty dollar bill intending to cram her angst and beef down her throat. But her description was flat, her whale of a man was dead, and she met a fate she had previously escaped by joining an unworthy baker in holy matrimony. Obviously, I've spoiled something here, but this information obviously doesn't spoil the main plot of THIFB, and in order to understand a good portion of this, you'll have had to read SCU, so I've clearly done no wrong.
Anyway, aside from this plot detail, one that is minor to the book while still major to me, the book was not Lamb's best work. Most of the reviews I read on Amazon were right on target. I'm glad I skipped them until after I'd finished the book. The characters were not as well-written as in Lamb's other books, and the thing that he is usually credited for most, creating characters that are well-developed and easy to sympathize with, both in spite of and because of their flaws, was missing from Caelum and the others. I could see this story being two, or even three, books. I could see this story being edited down a few hundred pages. I could see Wally Lamb rolling his eyes and doing whatever he wants, because he's talented enough to not really care what I have to say. So in that case, I'll say one more thing. The politically slanted rantings in the book? They made me weary. I know enough about writing to know that current events have an effect on what comes through the pen. And I'm also weathered enough to realize that not everyone has the same views that I do about most things in life. I have no choice but to be relatively OK with that because otherwise I'd have been taken away a long time ago in a straight jacket, shaved head and all. But what I've grown tired of is popular culture lecturing me, and not having anywhere to go to escape these lectures. Places I thought were safe where I didn't have to think about the chaos of the world have now grown preachy,and that just makes me tired and weary.
So if you are thinking about reading any of Lamb's books, I would encourage you to do so. I would also encourage you to read them backward. I promise, it will only get better.
*As a side note, I have now written the bulk of this entry three times. I had it completed and (I thought) posted on Wednesday night, only to find on Thursday that it not only did not post, it autosaved only two paragraphs. Tonight, I rewrote all but the last paragraph, saved, ate dinner, did some laundry, and returned to find that I'd been bumped from GoDaddy and the entry was now up to four paragraphs, but missing two others. Halfway through correcting this, the page automatically refreshed, and I lost even more work, including a much wittier explanation of all of this happening. I'm tired, angry, and beginning to feel like this is a little cursed. Also, I just noticed that the autosave stamp, it went from saying 10:17 to saying 9:24, so I'm also pretty sure I'm also going insane.
**And as another side note, (one for the right and the left... see? I'm not so closed-minded) I've tried unsuccessfully, thrice, to post the links to the Amazon listing of these books. I am also not totally convinced that the links were not the reason for all of the issues I've had with saving this entry. So for tonight, Amazon.com, you can go to hell. I'm tired of futzing with your frustrating affiliate racket, and I'm going to take a shower.
First, let me explain why my hopes were at such a crescendo. Years ago, when I first happened upon Lamb's freshman novel, She's Come Undone, I felt as if I'd found a long lost friend. I identified with the main character, Delores, in a way you might identify with someone that resembles you but is far more interesting. Except in this case, interesting means tragic. Each time I'd read SCU (about eight in all, so far) I'd imagine myself reaching a conclusion not unlike that of Delores, patchworking a mix of unexpected people and circumstances together to create a somewhat unorthodox life. I was pleased we'd taken different paths to arrive there, but felt a sort of kinship with her and often lauded Lamb for having the talent to write a woman so well.
Lamb's second book, I Know This Much is True, used a technique that has long fascinated me, even though I didn't fall in love with the actual story. About halfway through the book, he made reference to Delores' husband, sort of in an off the cuff way that only staunch devotees would realize. It felt for me a little like a reunion that was a long time coming. I wanted to run screaming at the character, asking how Delores had been, if the waterbed was still in the living room, and if Roberta was still frequenting the dog races. Even the dullest of writers can grab my attention by weaving characters and themes and settings through books that otherwise would not interest me. It feels a bit like a great joke that I'll just never quite understand, but that I am desperate to be a part of.
So when Lamb mentioned Delores in his latest book, The Hour I First Believed, I was, at the very least, excited. I recognized her early on, possibly long before other readers would have picked up on it. It was a passing reference at first, one where I hoped he was talking about her, much like when you overhear someone talking about how an old flame is doing, and you don't really want to ask, but your ears are straining to hear. Once he got around to making it clear that he was indeed reintroducting Delores in this story, I felt my heart break in half. Without too many specifics, all of the things Delores had worked to overcome during her story, her triumphant launch into a life of average occurences and appreciation of solitude, seemed somewhat broken. It wasn't that she wasn't happy in THIFB. It wasn't as if she stalked into the bakery she was entering, grasping her fifty dollar bill intending to cram her angst and beef down her throat. But her description was flat, her whale of a man was dead, and she met a fate she had previously escaped by joining an unworthy baker in holy matrimony. Obviously, I've spoiled something here, but this information obviously doesn't spoil the main plot of THIFB, and in order to understand a good portion of this, you'll have had to read SCU, so I've clearly done no wrong.
Anyway, aside from this plot detail, one that is minor to the book while still major to me, the book was not Lamb's best work. Most of the reviews I read on Amazon were right on target. I'm glad I skipped them until after I'd finished the book. The characters were not as well-written as in Lamb's other books, and the thing that he is usually credited for most, creating characters that are well-developed and easy to sympathize with, both in spite of and because of their flaws, was missing from Caelum and the others. I could see this story being two, or even three, books. I could see this story being edited down a few hundred pages. I could see Wally Lamb rolling his eyes and doing whatever he wants, because he's talented enough to not really care what I have to say. So in that case, I'll say one more thing. The politically slanted rantings in the book? They made me weary. I know enough about writing to know that current events have an effect on what comes through the pen. And I'm also weathered enough to realize that not everyone has the same views that I do about most things in life. I have no choice but to be relatively OK with that because otherwise I'd have been taken away a long time ago in a straight jacket, shaved head and all. But what I've grown tired of is popular culture lecturing me, and not having anywhere to go to escape these lectures. Places I thought were safe where I didn't have to think about the chaos of the world have now grown preachy,and that just makes me tired and weary.
So if you are thinking about reading any of Lamb's books, I would encourage you to do so. I would also encourage you to read them backward. I promise, it will only get better.
*As a side note, I have now written the bulk of this entry three times. I had it completed and (I thought) posted on Wednesday night, only to find on Thursday that it not only did not post, it autosaved only two paragraphs. Tonight, I rewrote all but the last paragraph, saved, ate dinner, did some laundry, and returned to find that I'd been bumped from GoDaddy and the entry was now up to four paragraphs, but missing two others. Halfway through correcting this, the page automatically refreshed, and I lost even more work, including a much wittier explanation of all of this happening. I'm tired, angry, and beginning to feel like this is a little cursed. Also, I just noticed that the autosave stamp, it went from saying 10:17 to saying 9:24, so I'm also pretty sure I'm also going insane.
**And as another side note, (one for the right and the left... see? I'm not so closed-minded) I've tried unsuccessfully, thrice, to post the links to the Amazon listing of these books. I am also not totally convinced that the links were not the reason for all of the issues I've had with saving this entry. So for tonight, Amazon.com, you can go to hell. I'm tired of futzing with your frustrating affiliate racket, and I'm going to take a shower.
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