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Wordly Obsessions

~ … the occasional ramblings of a book addict …

Wordly Obsessions

Tag Archives: white oleander

Top Ten Most Hated Books

27 Saturday Oct 2012

Posted by mywordlyobsessions in Book Review, BookTalk, From Life..., Quotes

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

Book Thief, Haunting of Hill House, janet fitch, Marcus Sedgwick, min jin lee, Shirley Jackson, white oleander


Recently I stumbled across a comment made by a reader of mine (Caroline Tien) who expressed, quite eloquently, her complete and utter disappointment of Janet Fitch’s ‘White Oleander’ (click here for comment, and scroll to bottom).  Now I love honest reviews of books and find it really refreshing when someone has the guts to say otherwise. I myself being a reader that prides herself on reading what is GOOD, not what is in vogue value that immensely. However I often find some readers simply join the herd and say how damn interesting it was, when it damn well wasn’t (*cough* 50shades *cough*).

Anyway, Caroline made some really valid points which, even though I could see and feel as I was reading it at the time, didn’t really disturb me much. But it obviously had a huge negative impact on her. She explained how Fitch ruined the story with her obsessive use of metaphors and melodrama. Among other things she touched upon the completely unlikable characters that portrayed women as unstable  nympho types (feminists unite!).

I can’t discount any of the above. It does exist in Fitch’s writing, and in huge helpings, but I personally loved all the metaphors and melodrama. But it got me thinking upon the REASONS people may love one book and completely dislike another. Like most bloggers in the blogopshere, I have my little collection of titles I love to loathe, which I simply do not get (regardless of how many times I’ve sat and tried to read) or because something about the thing offends me be it literary boo-boos or otherwise.

One blogger posted about how renowned author’s also have similar problems with certain books. My favourite is Ian Rankin’s rant, as it really struck a chord:

Ian Rankin, novelist

I haven’t ever wanted to hurl it to the floor, but I’ve started Midnight’s Children several times and been unable to get past the first 10 pages. Not sure why; it’s been a few years since I gave it a go . . . maybe time to try again! I loved Cormac McCarthy’s No Country for Old Men, but was told by author friends that Blood Meridian is his masterpiece. I tried it and couldn’t get halfway through. Just didn’t find it interesting. Also couldn’t finish The Road. How can a book be harrowing and pedestrian at the same time? Enjoyed The Hobbit as a teenager; gave up on The Lord of the Rings after about 30 pages

It’s so good to know I’m not the only one who HATES McCarthy (he’s so DRY) and that I’m not alone in thinking how inaccessible ‘On The Road’ was. Maybe I need to do a bit of hillbillying around the USA to get what it’s all about. I’m from the UK, we don’t really have coming-of-age-bumpkining-around novels… I fear the subject is all too remote for us.

But the sad thing about it is this; I seriously DO want to get these novels. They’re big and beautiful and highly respected. Being the only one who doesn’t get it makes me feel slightly dumb.

So, here is my inspired response to Caroline’s comment and a list of my top ten most hated books in no particular order and why. Enjoy!

1. Lost Souls – Poppy Z. Brite
Lost Souls

Gratuitous violence, sex and gore; vampiric LGBT incest; characters who act without thinking; a plotless plot and eating of placenta’s… Lost Souls? I damn well think so! On the upside, there are oodles of Chartereuse drinking going on, which is about the only positive thing about this novel of vampire’s who have lived for so long that they don’t know what to do with themselves. If you have still NOT grown out of your teenage-ennui, then you might like this. Otherwise grown-ups stay well away!!

2. My Swordhand is Singing – Marcus Sedgwick
My Swordhand is Singing (My Swordhand is Singing, #1)

What could have been a good vampire novel that began to truly look around the geographical period of the times fell flat on its face with a very clichéd, stereotypical representation of the invading Turkish army. Why does this bother me? I’m sick and tired of writers representing my people as bloodthirsty barbarians who are a blight on the face of the earth. When are we ever going to see a good Turkish guy? Never it seems, because it’s just too easy (and safe) to call us the undesirable ‘other’. Do me a favour. Leave it. It’s been done to death, and I think people are getting the idea that it’s all bullshit anyway. Armies invade, they kill, they conquer. Everybody was doing it back in the day. Deal with it.

3. On Writing – Stephen King
On Writing

… we were prescribed this book as required reading for our creative writing classes. I bought it, read it, and was extremely ANGRY. It was a complete waste of money and time as it was King ranting on about the time when he wiped his arse with nettle leaves when he was a boy, with several chapters thrown in about his near-fatal car accident. Very little to do with actual CRAFT of writing itself. It’s all hot-air and pompous reminiscing guys. Only buy if you truly want to read it for THAT purpose. You have been warned.

4. Free Food for Millionaires – Min Jin Lee
Free Food for Millionaires

Don’t be fooled by the gorgeous cover. It’s a complete shambles. I love Eastern writers and writing, yet this debut novel by Korean author Min Jin Lee left a lot to be desired. Full of over-achieving young Korean characters who have all the opportunities in the world but fritter their time away feeling lost and lonely in the family and sexual relationships. All make characters were portrayed as nasty, and female ones – well, I couldn’t identify with. Avoid like the plague.

5. Woman in Black – Susan Hill
The Woman in Black

Works terrible as a novel, but could see the brilliance of it on the stage! The only scary bit was the moments describing the knocking sound in the nursery. For a more superior experience try Shirley Jackson’s ‘The Haunting of Hill House‘.

6. The Book Thief – Markus Zusak
The Book Thief

Simply. Did. Not. Get. I dislike it when something as serious as WW2 is described in a trite, childish manner. This is the same reason why I didn’t enjoy ‘The Boy in Striped Pyjama’s’ so much either.

7. The Catcher in the Rye
The Catcher in the Rye

One I’m ashamed to say I didn’t get either. Holden Caulfield’s immature rants failed to find a place of recognition in me. I’ve never been as petulant as all that. I think I’m seeing a pattern in my most disliked books. Most are centered around teen angst!

8. The Unbearable Lightness of Being
The Unbearable Lightness of Being

Required reading for our creative writing class (again), and only because our lecturer at the time was such a bloody fan of Kundera. He waxed lyrical about him. I failed to see the greatness of his prose. Very inaccessible. I prefer Borges. Any day.

9. Lost World
Lost World

I disliked this novel so much. And made it very clear WHY. And have had a heated debate about the merits of Melo’s writing. You can read my thoughts about it in my review.

10. Spring Flowers, Spring Frost
Spring Flowers, Spring Frost

So bad that it has put me off reading Kadare for life. I really didn’t know where the story was going, and lack of structure really puts me off. Story-writing is an art of blending ideas, thoughts and language. If after reading halfway through it I still can’t find anything of merit, then I give up. I also suspect that it was victim of a very bad translation. Too bad.

So there it is, my embarrassing list of dead-end novels. But at least now I feel better in knowing that even well-known writers have the same difficulties.

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Book Review | ‘White Oleander’ by Janet Fitch

21 Monday Feb 2011

Posted by mywordlyobsessions in Book Review, Excerpts

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

book review, janet fitch, white oleander


White OleanderWhite Oleander by Janet Fitch

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

“Oleanders could live through anything, they could stand heat, drought, neglect, and put out thousands of waxy blooms. So what did they need poison for?… Maybe it was… in the soil, something about L.A., the hatred, the callousness, something we didn’t want to think about, that the plant concentrated in its tissues. Maybe it wasn’t a source of poison, but just another victim.”

Women are like oleanders; proud, beautiful and deadly. Their delicate femininity is the very thing that attracts their prey. Snap a stalk, pluck a flower, bruise a dagger-like leaf and a curious fluid seeps from the wound; like deadly breast milk.

This dark tale of mothers, daughters and the enigma of ‘womanhood’ is told through the eyes of Astrid Magnussen, a thirteen year old girl who finds her idyllic life shattered when her mother Ingrid gets sent to jail for murder. Defenceless, Astrid is left to face the world alone, and begins what becomes a five-year hand-me-down existence through a string of foster homes where she learns the brutal realities of life. Caught between her mothers’ uncompromising, bloody-minded philosophy of the ‘warrior woman’ and her own intense, contradictory experiences; Astrid learns how her kind get spoiled, and wakes up to the cold fact that even mothers can be severely lacking in the very thing that makes one a ‘woman’.

I loved everything about this novel. The characters, the settings, each and every turn of phrase which is so painstakingly written. This comes very close to capturing the ‘genius’ of women’s literature. It’s a relief to read something that makes no apologies for what it is; a book about women for women. Fitch is a brave, bold author who is unashamedly feminine in her approach to the subject of mother-daughter relations and everything else in between. But when I say it is feminine, I by no means imply that it is mushy, cute stuff scattered with sprinkles. Quite the contrary, it is intimate, raw with a sheer clarity for memory, place and emotion. This novel tries to get inside the mind of a woman, of how the world looks and feel and is recorded in the impressionable mind of an adolescent girl who still has enough of the child in her to be relating to things through the five senses.

As a reader who doesn’t go much for women’s literature, this novel has a quality and ‘frequency’ of feminine that I admire. It pays respect to Plath and Woolf by having characters that go beyond dumbed-down stereotypes. It also helps that Fitch’s writing is impeccable. She molds her words with a precision that makes my skin tingle and makes metaphors full of grace and beauty.

Fitch’s story grapples with the difficulties of vicious, poisonous love, and identity, as Astrid is exposed to many different female role models throughout her formative years. However Astrid is quick to learn that all these women who harbour love and hate in uneven quantities; are all products of the men who have touched their lives.

“Women always put men first. That’s how everything got so screwed up.”

Fitch also looks at the turbulent world of foster care by revealing many undesirable aspects of the system. I guess what I liked most was how Ingrid and Astrid end up in the bowels of the ‘system’, and go through their own hell of sorts. Coming out the other side in one piece is their common hope; and each finds their own methods of sustaining their souls against the loneliness they must endure. The story is mainly centred around Astrid, and the difficulty she has with connecting with her mother. What was once a simple relationship, which consisted of admiration and awe is no longer valid. The physical separation also serves to sever the ties that held them together. Astrid eventually comes to blame her situation on her mothers’ selfish act of revenge, and slowly becomes more alienated from her.

Despite their strength and stoicism, Fitch underlines the emotional dependence between Astrid and Ingrid that is infuriating yet fundamental at the same time. Ingrid’s futile attempts at initiating Astrid in the ways of womanhood are thwarted, as Astrid rebels against the threat of becoming like her mother, but is also seen to covet her iron-will that she so desperately needs. In time, Astrid learns how to conduct herself through the haphazard world; and even comes to appreciate her mothers’ advice:

“The phoenix must burn to emerge.”

Ingrid and Astrid both burn and emerge from the hardships they endure, as hard and as refined as diamonds.

View all my reviews

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Teaser Tuesday | ‘White Oleander’ by Janet Fitch

10 Monday Jan 2011

Posted by mywordlyobsessions in Meme, Quotes

≈ 17 Comments

Tags

janet fitch, teaser tuesday, white oleander


Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:

  • Grab your current read
  • Open to a random page
  • Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page
  • BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)
  • Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!

Yay! I’m back (again), and have an excellent book to do a teaser from. I found it really hard coming up with my two sentences because EVERY SENTENCE in this book absolutely aches with beauty. So here is my latest read ‘White Oleander’ by Janet Fitch, pg. 1:

“The Santa Anas blew in hot from the desert, shrivelling the last of the spring grass into whiskers of pale straw. Only the oleanders thrived, their delicate poisonous blooms, their dagger green leaves.”

Reading this is absolute heaven. I don’t want it to ever finish, which is why I’m taking it very slowly. It’s full of magical wordsmithery. Very highly recommended. I think this might be the first book of 2011 to get the five stars from me.

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