Posts Tagged ‘hate book club’

Hate Book Club: The Eyes of the Arab Boy

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In an improbable turn of events, I got an email earlier this month from an author volunteering his book for Hate Book Club. I dutifully explained the point of Hate Book Club and how it would take a dangerous amount of optimism or a fair level of masochism to volunteer your own work for it. But the author was undaunted! So that’s how I came to read this book:

The Eyes of the Arab Boy by Rod Lamirand

The Eyes of the Arab Boy by Rod Lamirand

I guess I should preface with the disclaimer that Rod Lamirand sent me a copy of his book for free, but the opinions below are my own. Obviously. As always, I’m going to start by saying three nice things about the book.

1) I knew almost nothing about Oman before reading this besides where it is and the capital. Now I know a little bit more (assuming Rod Lamirand did his research, I guess), so that’s cool.
2) There was more than one baby turtle!! My favorite character was the baby turtle.
3) I’m strangely comforted by the fact that Americans aren’t the only ones who travel abroad as ignorant, arrogant asshats.

Yes, friends. I too always assumed that Americans had this shit on lock: exoticizing other cultures and then being angry and disappointed at their realities, arrogantly expecting people in other countries to cater to your whims and needs without bothering to learn their customs or language, or just blithely assuming you have diplomatic immunity because HELLO I AM WHITE. But not so! Apparently our Canadian friends stand with us in stupidity, at least according to this book.

#NotAllCanadians

#NotAllCanadians

Also, before we get into a deeper discussion about why this book sucks, we just have to get this out of the way. The main character’s name is Stash. STASH. I mainly finished the book in the hopes of getting an explanation for this but, spoilers, there isn’t one. Is it short for something? Stashopher? Mustache? Does he HAVE a mustache? Why isn’t it spelled Stache? Did he have some kind of epic stash of something at one point that warranted a nickname? WHY DOES EVERYONE CALL HIM “Mr. Stash” (despite having a last name) LIKE THIS IS A NORMAL THING? Rod Lamirand, I vow to buy the sequel to this book with my own money if you promise to explain this mystery in it.

So Stash and his wife Anna are in a deeply troubling relationship built on manipulation. Anna works hard to become a teacher because Stash tells her she’d be good at it despite having no obvious desire to do so. Stash and Anna MOVE TO OMAN because Stash “wants an adventure”. Anna convinces Stash to have a kid because she’s worried about her biological clock (lol) and Stash’s lackluster response is:

arabboy1

Just the kind of spontaneous, undependable person you want to have a kid with, right? Later on they have similar arguments about having a second kid, including ultimatums, secret vasectomies, and Anna insisting that the second kid Stash doesn’t want is “exactly what [he] needs.” While Anna whines about how she wants more kids, Stash whines about how he wants more exciting sex. He explains that for men sex “is a daily want, a never ending powerful need” and that if HE were the wife in the relationship he would “make it my goal to weave my magic in a million ways for you, every single day of your life… until you died from pleasure.” So, yeah, this book has the sexual politics of a Victorian novel where men are filled with base urges for “sex all the time and if at all possible with variety” whereas “even the liberal, modern, educated,[sic] women, are probably sexually conservative”. LOL OKAY STASH although I question your data. Maybe he’s just pissed that no one really wants to sleep with some skeevy dude named “Stash.” Even in college.

Anyway, in an attempt to liven up this joyless hostage situation of a marriage, Stash and Anna try out sex on the roof of their building, sex with another ex-pat couple, and role play. And, what the hell, taking naked pictures. IN OMAN. Why the fuck not. Oh right, because they are seen and arrested. As you would expect when you live in a country under Sharia law. I don’t know dick about Sharia law, but I DIDN’T VOLUNTARY CHOOSE TO LIVE UNDER IT like these idiots. Plus, they don’t speak any Arabic, just assuming that everyone in Oman will be able to speak English with them. Luckily one of the police officers interrogating them points out how incredibly arrogant this assumption is:

arabboy2

At various points in this ridiculous process they 1) wish they had registered with their embassy (?? You didn’t??) 2) wish they had the phone number for their embassy (??????? Did you prepare for this trip AT ALL?), and 3) expect the legal system to work the same way it does at home (“Where’s my lawyer?” “Where’s my phone call?” YOU’RE IN OMAN YOU TWITS). Their weird regressive sexual politics aside, it’s impossible to feel any empathy for these two because they are so incredibly dumb. Eventually they are saved by a random Italian diplomat they met who is the only competent character and helps them because of friendship or whatever. Also, the police didn’t really care about their random crimes against Omani law–they were really after their neighbor who turned out to be a pedophile, a plot twist that seemed kind of thrown together. Maybe someone can shed some light on this dude, because even before the DRAMATIC REVEAL I never understood his character at all:

arabboy3

So… he’s gay? Or he’s not gay? Are we talking General Patton? Was HE gay? This simile honestly means nothing to me, and there are no further context clues besides the big Pedophile Reveal. Is this implying that gay men are pedophiles? WAS General Patton gay? I feel like I am not old enough to understand this book, both in references and weird attitudes about sex and other cultures. Plus, the writing is sometimes ELJames levels of bad:

arabboy6

Wow, wow, wow!

arabboy5

My note on the above just says “What?” I have no idea what this is referring to at all.

arabboy4

I tried to give this one the benefit of the doubt, thinking it might be like Canadian Dad Slang, but Google couldn’t help me out either:

Unless you can only find it on Canadian Google. Canoogle.

Unless you can only find it on Canadian Google. Canoogle.

Since every Hate Book Club review must include a chart, here’s one I made about the types of notes I wrote to myself while reading this ebook.

image

Most of the “lol” was laughing AT the characters, not with them. And, as always, here is a gif to sum up my review:

imdone

Previously: Eat, Pray, Love
Next: Depends on if anyone else really wants to VOLUNTEER

Hate Book Club: Eat Pray Love

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Since this year marks its 10th anniversary, I somehow convinced Brian to read Eat, Pray, Love with me. That was four months ago, and Brian has since found way cooler pursuits, but I finished my review anyway so here it is!

I'm pretty sure it owes a full half of its success to cover design

I’m pretty sure it owes a full half of its success to cover design

As always, here are three compliments about the book before I expound upon why I hate it:

1) Elizabeth Gilbert isn’t a terrible writer, so this book was more readable than many we’ve done for Hate Book Club
2) Her life advice, while mostly very general and obvious, won’t kill you
3) Some of the food descriptions sounded good

The plot is pretty simple: a rich white lady gets a divorce and then a book deal to take a year to travel around the world and “find herself.” She wants to go to Italy to learn Italian, India to study at an ashram, and Bali because she was there once and thinks she needs to go back. To try to make her book cohesive, she decides to cram these seperate destinations into a thematic concept about “understanding pleasure, devotion, and a balance between the two” that I don’t buy in any way at all.

My overarching problem with this book is that it can’t decide what it wants to be, so it just does everything badly. Is it a travelogue? I hope not, because Gilbert spends almost no time describing what it’s like to be in these separate places. I have no concept of them or even the people she meets beyond how they affect her. Is it escapist? No, because she spends so much time whining I don’t want to experience her journey through her. It’s not a romance for the same reason–though she does find love at the end, there’s so much angsty build-up that a romance novel fan would quit in disgust. I guess “spiritual memoir” is the most accurate, since we mostly only get how the places she’s visiting are affecting her psyche. And maybe there would be some value in that if she weren’t insufferable.

As an English major who suffered through all the usual classics, it’s weird that I’m about to say this, but: this is the most white-people book I’ve ever read. Gilbert spends 387 pages complaining about how awful her life is, when she’s clearly part of the 1%. We’ve got your egregious (if strange) displays of wealth:

“Wasn’t I proud of all we’d accomplished–the prestigious home in the Hudson Valley, the apartment in Manhattan, the eight phone lines” (11)

Eight phone lines???? Why??? Add to that some “We came over on the Mayflower” bullshit:

“If I look on my dad’s family tree all the way back to the seventeenth century…” (63)

And, most ridic of all, THE FACT THAT SHE IS BEING PAID TO TRAVEL THE WORLD FOR A YEAR:

“I have quit my job, paid off my divorce settlement and legal bills, given up my house, given up my apartment, put what belongings I had left into storage… in advance, my publisher has purchased the book I shall write about my travels” (36)

She consistently wants you to pity her, even with her language choices–she’s “given up” everything in her life–while ignoring the fact that she is being paid to loaf around various international destinations for a year when I can’t even get a Monday night off.

And you know when we’re talking about class privilege, white privilege can’t be far behind. Especially when traveling internationally. Here’s where she patronizingly talks about how cute it is that a girl in India continues to wear her broken glasses instead of just getting them replaced like I’m sure everyone in rural India can totally do easily:

“Tulsi is just about the cutest little bookworm of an Indian girl you ever saw, even cuter since one lens of her “specs” (as she calls her eyeglasses) broke last week in a cartoonish spiderweb design, which hasn’t stopped her from wearing them” (188)

Here’s where she complains that one of the chants they have to recite at the Indian ashram is just not fun like ugh you guys, don’t you hate it when you exoticize a culture but then it turns out to be boring and not mystical at all like you expected??

“each verse is a paragraph of impenetrable Sanskrit…I don’t like the tune and I don’t like the words” (169)

Here’s where she complains that trying to learn the language of the country she’s visiting for four months would just be too much hassle. Better the people whose home you’re visiting learn English to better cater to you:

“I just can’t take on the task of trying to learn Indonesian or, even more difficult, Balinese–a language more complex than Martian” (226)

Here’s where she talks about how nice and easy it is to get around Bali now that terrorist attacks have threatened their livelihood:

“It’s even easier to get around now; everyone is desperate to help you, desperate for work” (226)

Here’s where she decides when an orphaned Indonesian girl’s birthday is for her. And makes her share, because don’t be greedy, Little Ketut; orphans can’t afford their own birthdays.

“Little Ketut, the smallest orphan, whose birthday, I had decided a few weeks ago, would also be on July 18 from now on, shared with my own” (319)

Plus there’s this:

“Thanksgiving is a nice holiday, something an American can freely be proud of” (113)

Elizabeth Gilbert is also fixated on sex. Every time she introduces a new character (and these are real people that she met in real life) she assesses their fuckability:

“Sofie is… so damn cute you could put her on a hook and use her as bait to catch men” (59)

Or worries about her own fuckability because she’s not being sexually harassed by strangers in public:

“And while it’s certainly nice, of course, to not get pawed by a disgusting stranger on the bus, one does have one’s feminine pride” (70)

Maybe this book would be less annoying if she was just going on this journey for herself instead of with the intent to write a book. Because–my dislike of her aside–this all feels incredibly fake. Gilbert doesn’t so much want to experience different cultures as to appear to be the kind of person who does. For instance, she contemplates taking a temporary vow of silence at her ashram for these reasons:

“People will talk about me. They’ll ask ‘Who is That Quiet Girl in the Back of the Temple, always scrubbing the floors, down on her knees? She never speaks. She’s so elusive. She’s so mystical.” (200)

Not to help her in her spiritual journey or better understand the ashram’s teachings or bring herself closer to god. Nope. The main motivation behind the vow (or anything in this book, really) is how much you like the image of yourself doing that. Whether it’s taking a vow of silence at an ashram, speaking Italian, or white savioring your way into an Indonesian woman’s life by buying her a house, this book and Gilbert herself are all about appearances over substance. And those appearances aren’t even that appealing.

Plus, her humor is entirely dad jokes and puns:

“So I made a joke that he was a “bonga-leer” like those guys in Venice but with percussion instead of boats” (280)

That’s her flirting, if you can believe it.

In case you want to go on your own Eat, Pray, Love inspired spiritual journey, I’ve made you a handy graph:

eatpraylovegraph2

In conclusion,

whitenonsense

Previously: Interview with the Vampire

Hate Book Club: Interview with the Vampire

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Brian and I read this book for Hate Book Club and then kind of forgot about it. For all the hype I’ve heard about it over the years, it’s a surprisingly forgettable book. Read his review here!

And it has this shitty cover

And it has this shitty cover

As always, I’ll begin by thinking of 3 compliments for the book.

1. It was published in 1976, but didn’t feel particularly dated.
2. It failed to scare me even a little bit at all so I had no nightmares while reading. Which I guess means it failed at being horror, but I think we all know this book is gothic romance.
3. This amazing description of a vampire:

The smooth white substance of his face moved with the infinitely flexible but minimal lines of a cartoon.(4)

I therefore pictured this whole book as a live-action/animation hybrid a la Who Framed Roger Rabbit?.

Here is a plot breakdown:

Lestat gets in a fight with his vampire boyfriend Louis and they end up turning a 5-year-old girl into a vampire despite the fact that we all know how Vampire Child Drama ends:

BADLY

BADLY

Louis and Child-Vamp Claudia kill Lestat and it’s weird. Then they go on a Vampire Journey of Self-Discovery through Europe, eventually ending up in Paris where they meet a group of older vampires led by Armand. Louis and Armand are in love, but SURPRISE Lestat isn’t dead and leads the other vampires to kill Claudia because she’s an abomination and also HOW COULD YOU LOVE YOUR CHILD BRIDE MORE THAN ME, LOUIS??? Louis escapes, The End.

The movie HAS to be better

The movie HAS to be better

Claudia was definitely the weirdest part of this book. Turned into a vampire as a five-year-old plague victim, she keeps the body of a child, but supposedly her mind matures into a woman in a child’s body. Louis is clearly in love with her, and everyone is creeped out by it forever. Especially me.

I was interested to see how popular this pairing was with fans, since a good portion of the book was Louis angsting on and on about how THEIR LOVE COULD NEVER BE BUT I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT HER. So I took a sample of around 80 Interview with the Vampire fanfics and recorded the pairing(s):

ffpairings

More than half of the works in fan literature feature the Louis/Lestat pairing, probably helped along by the fact that these Whiny McAssholes were played by Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt in the 1994 movie. Louis/Armand was the second most popular pairing, but it had only about a quarter of the fics Louis/Lestat had. Louis/Claudia was third most popular, featured in 11% of fics, some of which I noticed made disclaimers like “In my version Claudia is magically an adult.” Okay, if that helps you sleep at night. Lestat remains the most popular character for whatever reason (???people are big fans of fiery vengeance???) so the fourth most popular pairing was Lestat/Original Character (read: Author Insert). Three percent of fics featured Lestat/Claudia, and I found one fic each that featuered Lestat/Armand, Armand/Original Character, Lestat/Edward Cullen, and Lestat/Thomas Jefferson.

Let me repeat, the “TJ” in that graph stands for third president of the United States, Thomas Jefferson. I hope that fact made your day like it made mine.

In conclusion, this book was pretty atmospheric, kind of gory, and not at all scary. So to sum up in gif form:

blood

Don’t forget to read Brian’s review!
Previously: Hate Book Club: The Art of the Deal

Hate Book Club: The Art of the Deal

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Brian chose this edition of Hate Book Club, but I don’t blame him because we both thought it would end up being better than it was. First published in 1987, this book is a portrait of a past version of Donald Trump. Less bombastic, more optimistic, far more boring.

That hair

Still got ridic hair, though

As always, I have to begin Hate Book Club by finding three nice things to say about the book:
1. This life advice:

“If it can’t be fun, what’s the point?” (2)

2. It made me falsely nostalgic for a simpler time when you had to call people on landlines to get anything done. Oh, romantic inconvenience
3. It reminded me SO MUCH of the Futurama episode “Future Stock,” about a 1980s business guy who gets frozen and reawakened in the year 3001 to try to use 80s tactics to succeed in future business. So I ended up rewatching that episode, and it’s a great one.

This book is shelved in the biography section of my library because it is a monotonous chronicling of Trump’s every business move from high school forward. It basically reads like a grocery list. But there were some glimmerings of the ridiculous troll-beast that would emerge in decades to come, like his condescending attitude towards women:

One of the first things I did was join Le Club, which at the time was the hottest club in the city and perhaps the most exclusive… Its membership included some of the most successful men and the most beautiful women in the world. (95)

Because success:men::beauty:women. Obviously. You can also clearly see the casual condescension and privilege that will become such a pillar of his public persona:

My father had done very well for himself, but he didn’t believe in giving his children huge trust funds. When I graduated from college, I had a net worth of perhaps $200,000 (93)

HAULING MYSELF UP BY MY BOOTSTRAPS with only $200,000, in 1960s money. Don’t worry, this judgment also extends to his own family:

Maryanne [his sister, a federal judge] is really something. My younger sister, Elizabeth, is kind and bright but less ambitious, and she works at Chase Manhattan Bank in Manhattan. (70)

Working at a bank is a perfectly normal career, but in the Trump family you have to preface it with “but she has a great personality.”

I also learned some of Trump’s baffling personal habits:

I ask Norma Foerderer, my executive assistant… to bring me lunch: a can of tomato juice” (7)

The best part was definitely when he punched a teacher in the face:

Even in elementary school I was a very assertive, aggressive kid. In the second grade I actually gave a teacher a black eye–I punched my music teacher because I didn’t think he knew anything about music (71)

Honestly, I skimmed a lot of this book, so I don’t have a ton of notes, but to give you a general feel for it, here are some quotes from Futurama:

Steve Castle: Let’s cut to the chase. There are two kinds of people: Sheep and sharks. Anyone who’s a sheep is fired. Who’s a sheep?
Zoidberg: Uh, excuse me? Which is the one people like to hug?
Steve Castle: Gutsy question. You’re a shark. Sharks are winners and they don’t look back ’cause they don’t have necks. Necks are for sheep. [Everyone sinks down and covers their necks.] I am proud to be the shepherd of this herd of sharks

Steve Castle: Fry, I’m an 80’s guy. Friendship to me means that for two bucks I’d beat you with a pool cue till you got detached retinas.

awesome_to_the_max

Here’s the graph I made of my experience reading this book:

trump2

And here’s a gif that sums up my reaction to this book:

boring

Don’t forget to read Brian’s review here!

Hate Book Club: Here’s The Situation

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Full disclosure: I read this book over a month ago and did not take notes because, at the time, Brian seemed like he was not serious about reading it for Hate Book Club. Then Brian wrote a fancy for real article on it, and also a Hate Book Club review that you should totally go read. So this review will be more about what actually sticks with you from The Situation’s ghost-written words of wisdom over time.

As always, I’ll begin my review with three nice things about the book:

1. It included a lasagna recipe!!!
2. It included a sewing pattern!
3. It had a ridiculous fairy tale called “Grenadilocks and the 3 Abs” that was basically a parody of itself

I’ve never seen an episode of the Jersey Shore, which is probably a prerequisite for really understanding this book. However, I have watched all five episodes of Jersey Shore Gone Wilde, the youtube series where Importance of Being Earnest actors read lines from The Jersey Shore, so I felt I was semi-prepared.

gel

I can’t remember if the book includes a glossary, but it should, because The Situation introduces you to a whole new vocabulary. “Grenades” are women who are going to wreck your chances of having sex with other women, for instance. “GTL” is the important, almost ritualistic routine The Situation adheres to: Gym, Tanning, Laundry.

The gender politics in this book were hella offensive, of course, but it was also just plain silly. An extensive section detailed how to GTL if lost in the wilderness, including improvising free weights from logs and woodland creatures, and using your car’s mirrors to aid in tanning. There was a sewing pattern which you could use to make your own little ab pillow to cuddle up to at night if you aren’t “lucky” enough to be sleeping with The Situation. I don’t know why the pattern is for a single ab and not a six-pack.

The only other thing I really remember is that he constantly referred to sex as “smooshing,” which hopefully does not speak to his sexual prowess because that sounds really unappealing. Like being slowly crushed to death by The Blob.

I searched my files for any notes I may have taken on this book, but all I found was this single screenshot:

I guess I thought it said all it needed to about this

I guess I thought it said all it needed to about this

In all, this book seemed to sort of be making fun of itself, which is interesting, because it might mean that The Situation is more self-aware than seems possible. Or his ghost writer is. Either way, I didn’t hate this book as much as I thought. It benefited hugely from my low expectations and the fact that I paid $0 for it. My reaction gif is therefore:

betterthanexpected

Since I can’t remember a lot of this book, I decided to make my requisite chart based on the Amazon/Goodreads reviews, which varied pretty significantly:

From the site whose purpose is to sell you books

From the site whose purpose is to sell you books


From the site whose purpose is to sell you ads

From the site whose purpose is to sell you ads

You should make sure to read Brian’s better-researched review, and also his review of the lasagna recipe!

Previously: The Natural

Hate Book Club: The Natural

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Hate Book Club is, of course, where Brian and I read books we think we’ll hate. This time we had to recommend a book we thought the other one would hate. For him, I chose Daughter of the Blood by Anne Bishop, the weirdest erotic fantasy novel I’ve ever read. I’m so excited to read his review of it!!

For me, Brian chose The Natural by Bernard Malamud. It didn’t take me long to see why he thought I would hate it. It’s hella boring and also all about baseball, America’s Most Boring Pastime.

Even the cover is boring

Even the cover is boring

As always, I have to start my review by thinking of three good things to say, and they are:
1) It was really easy to skim the descriptions of the games because they hardly factored into the “plot” at all so I wasn’t exposed to as much baseball as I feared
2) This book actually made me like baseball more, because even watching it is less boring than reading about it.
3) It may have been painful to read at the time, but, unlike other horrible books, it quickly left my system. I’m writing this 2 months after starting this review (Brian reads slow), and I haven’t really retained much about the plot. In fact:

naturalchart

Luckily, I kept copious notes.

Here is the deal: Roy Hobbs is going to be the best baseball player ever, but before he can try out for the Cubs, a serial killer who specializes in murdering talented baseball players shoots him in the stomach. MANY YEARS LATER Roy is signed as a rookie to play on the Knights. Everyone makes fun of him because he’s so old, but when he uses his magical bat that he made himself (named “Wonderboy” because Bernard Malamud is imaginative), he is the best hitter ever so soon they shut up. All except Bump, the former best player on the team, who continually plays tricks on him. Like the time he randomly switched rooms with him for the night, causing his girlfriend Memo to sleep with Roy instead?? Hilarious.

Anyway, Bump runs into a wall and dies. Roy attempts to force himself on Memo repeatedly. He also meets a woman named Iris Lemon and goes on a weird date to the middle of nowhere with her where they swim in a lake and then build a fire like boyscouts. Iris confesses that she has an illegitimate child. He’s like “Well, you’re hot and clearly slutty, so let’s do this.” Then, in the middle of the sex:

But while he was in the middle of loving her she spoke: “I forgot to tell you I am a grandmother.”
He stopped. Holy Jesus.
Then she remembered something else and tried, in fright, to raise herself.
“Roy, are you–”
But he shoved her back and went on from where he had left off. (157)

Roy can’t get over that Iris is a grandmother, so he blows her off thereafter and continues pursuing Memo despite the fact that she doesn’t seem to like him. Then, a few day before THE BIG GAME, he has some kind of stomach attack and ends up in the hospital. The doctor is all “You should never play baseball again. You’re too old and it apparently makes your body explode.” But Roy just HAS to play in the BIG GAME. Memo arrives and explains that they can’t be together because he’s too old to make enough money at baseball to keep her in style:

“Maybe I am weak or spoiled, but I am the type who has to have somebody who can support her in a decent way. I’m sick of living like a slave. I got to have a house of my own, a maid to help me with the hard work, a decent car to shop with and a fur coat for winter time when it’s cold.” (193)

UNLESS he takes this deal that the team owner and the city’s biggest bookie have cooked up to make money. But can Roy really throw the big game??? It turns out, yes, although he has a change of heart near the end and starts trying for real real. Unfortunately, it’s too late and the Knights lose. Everyone is disappointed. Roy beats up the team owner, the bookie, and Memo and leaves a broken man.

Also, in the middle of the game he hits a ball into the stand that smashes Iris Lemon IN THE FACE. She dramatically reveals she’s pregnant with his child before the ambulance takes her away. He realizes TOO LATE that he doesn’t care about her past and that she is way less sketchy the Memo. BUT IS SHE? Apparently she is mainly attracted to Roy due to his resemblance to her rapist:

How like the one who jumped me in the park that night he looks, she thought, and to drive the thought away pressed his head deeper into her breasts, thinking, this will be different. (219)

On the other hand, this is Memo’s (and Bernard Malamud’s??) idea of the best way to sexily wait for your BF:

She was lying naked in bed, chewing a turkey drumstick as she looked at the pictures in a large scrapbook. (184)

Either way, Roy is a horrible person who doesn’t care about either of them. When he’s not trying to wheedle sex out of Memo in the sketchiest way possible:

“For Christ sakes, Memo, I am a grown guy and not a kid. When are you gonna be nice to me?”
“I am, Roy.”
“Not the way I want it.” (175)

Here he is trying to get over the fact that Iris is a grandmother. A HOT grandmother, but still.

To do her justice he concentrated on her good looks and the pleasures of her body but when her kid’s kid came to mind, despite grandma’s age of only thirty-three, that was asking too much and spoiled the appetizing part of her. (159)

Beside the terrible characters, the other horrible parts of this book included the vaguely dirty feeling Bernard Malamud’s attempts at writing gave me:

He felt a splurge of freedom at the view (3)

And the way everyone in this book is unreasonably obsessed with baseball:

“The ballplayers.”
“Oh, the ball–” Eddie clapped a hand to his mouth. “Are you one of them?”
“I hope to be.”
The porter bowed low. “My hero. Let me kiss your hand.” (5)

I guess this book was first published in 1952 when maybe baseball was a big deal and not just the acknowledged most boring sport in the entire world. It was a simpler time before the Internet, with simple past times. At least in this book I could skim the play-by-plays of Roy’s games, so it has that to be said for it. So in the end this book is slightly LESS boring than an actual baseball game, although I don’t know what kind of twisted deal-with-the-boring-devil would ever have you choosing between the two.

In the end, I would sum up my reaction to this book thusly:

boringgif

Don’t forget to read Brian’s review!

Previously: The Overton Window by Glenn Beck

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