With the holiday guests and general hoopla, much has been out of its normal routine around the Dooney household of late. We are starting to get back into a normal schedule though. The washing machine has resumed its labors and I have gotten back to the gym twice this week instead of my normal four-times weekly schedule. There is still hope as the week is not yet over.
Mom brought a series of books with her, some of which have been properly dispensed with:
I read A CRY IN THE NIGHT by Mary Higgins Clark on the bicycle this week. It was a fairly fast moving, shallow but entertaining read that was quickly forgotten. It took about an hour and a half of bicycle time- perfect for that category of books I call “bicycle books”, fast moving enough to keep one pedaling on the damned exercise equipment but not really requiring thought which might cause one to slow down. Most of these books are not particularly well written, they move quickly, there is little character development, and the plot and writing are heavily stereotyped and cliched. Still they entertain me through a necessary evil. Beautifully written fiction does not work as well, as I, at least, tend to stop pedaling during a particularly lovely passage, or when the story line requires me to put the book aside and contemplate something. The exercise bicycle is the perfect vehicle for a whole class of popular fiction that can be entertaining but I find I would never really get through if I just sat down and tried to read them.
I am also reading NEVER LET ME GO by Kazuo Ishiguro, which is an excellent novel, beautifully written, beautiful prose, great story line, good plot, character development and everything. Ishiguro is one of the rare writers who writes beautifully and writes well and I love reading this novel. It is very touching and poignant, while at the same time being somewhat unsettling and, as one gets further into it, darkly horrifying. It is not always easy to read on the bicycle, which is why I switched to the popular trash mentioned above for the bicycle.
Also noteworthy in books is that I managed to pawn off SON OF A WITCH by Gregory Maguire to Miriam, who is interested in reading it as a fun entertainment. She really enjoyed WICKED, as did my mom, but I am probably the only person in America who found it boring, tedious, and difficult to get through.
Although I thought WICKED started off well, and I was looking forward to it, I felt the character development and the sense of the plot fell off as the book progressed and the later part of the book, involving the wizard and Dorothy and the whole “Wicked Witch” scenario, was never completely developed; it was rather rushed and pasted together, as if the author spent too much time on early childhood foundations and then found he had run out of time. Despite Elphalba’s lengthy ruminations, her motivations were never adequately explained. What started out as promising character development became rushed in the end. Elphalba’s adult activities, how she conceived them, and why they went wrong were seriously glossed over. What seemed to be a book aimed at breaking the stereotype of the wicked witch, ended up lapsing into even more stereotypes. Generally I found the cynicism, satire, and wit entertaining but not fully developed, as if cleverness was enough.. I found this so frustrating that I kept abandoning the book, although I did eventually finish it. It was certainly not the worst book I have ever read, but it was incredibly frustrating.
At any rate, I skimmed through SON OF A WITCH and it may be entertaining, but I am not convinced it will not fall prey to the same faults as its predecessor. Better, in my mind, to pass it on.