Then We Came to the End by Joshua Ferris

While reading this book, it occurred to me a couple of times that it was more than a little depressing to work a stultifying office job all day and then come home at night to spend my free time reading about stultifying office work. That's not quite true, as my office is pretty cool. But boy, did this ever take me back to the days when I worked in traditional corporate hell. Ferris just nailed it. It's got plenty of comedy, which will I'm sure bring comparisons to "The Office". But he doesn't skimp on pathos either, which is what kept me happy. The POV was unusual, and I enjoyed it so much more than I expected at the outset. The narrator is never named. I assumed he was a "he", though his entire identity down to gender is a complete mystery. He tells the story in first person plural pronouns almost exclusively. Nothing is "I" and everything is "we", as illustrated for example in this section from the opening paragraph: Most of us liked most everyone, a few of us hated specific individuals, one or two people loved everyone and everything. Those who loved everyone were unanimously reviled. We loved free bagels in the morning. They happened all too infrequently. Our benefits were astonishing in comprehensiveness and quality of care. Sometimes we questioned whether they were worth it. The unusual POV is both blessing and curse. It's ideal to drive home the oppressive, identity-sapping group culture of conformity in a traditional office. But it doesn't work as well when the story needs to provide more intimate views into events that only involve 1-2 people, when the observing third party wouldn't believably witness the scene. There's a POV shift in the middle that I wasn't expecting and didn't like at first, but it grew on me and was absolutely necessary to move the plot forward. Until then, I was wondering where all this was going, but that section drove the action very effectively. If I were the editor, I would cut the last sentence of the main body of the book, and the last sentence of the flash forward to the present day. Both felt gimmicky and fit awkwardly with the rest. I also hated the term "walk Spanish" as a euphemism for being laid off. He uses it continuously through the first part of the book and it never failed to grate. As things get more dire in the office, and the team members lose their sense of humor about losing their jobs, it appears less often. For that, I was grateful.

1st to Die by James Patterson

It's probably not fair to even rate this book, seeing as how I didn't make it more than 30 pages in. But OH MY GOD what a terrible book. I'm ashamed of the entire book-buying public. This is beyond even Dan Brown levels of bad. The characters are ridiculous charicatures, the plot is absurd, and the dialogue is as clunky as any I've ever read. I was hoping to find a new series to read now that I've nearly finished the complete Block oeuvre, but this is so not my cuppa.

The Burglar Who Thought He Was Bogart by Lawrence Block

I think it was Lawrence Block's website that made me realize my perception of Bernie has been off from the beginning. Block describes him as a young guy - perpetually young, unlike the aging Scudder. I'd pictured him as older. But now that I've shaved 15 years off my mental picture, I like him so much more. Still, I'm surprised at how often in these stories I am able to figure out what's happening before any of the other characters. I wonder if that happens to the other readers too, or if it's just a coincidence that my knowledge of a few esoteric topics just happens to be relevant each time. For example, on this one I knew what "CAPHOB" meant from the very beginning, though the meaning ended up being largely irrelevant in the end. I've only seen a couple of Bogart films in my time, but enough to be amused at the gradual Bogartization of Bernie's worldview as he gets more immersed in the two-Bogart-a-day film festival.

The Burglar Who Traded Ted Williams by Lawrence Block

I realize it's weird - and possibly irritating as hell - to read all the books in a series and complain in each post about how disappointing they all are. I realize that I should just STOP READING a series I don't particuarly enjoy. But I am a lazy reader. I spend a lot of time zoning out on planes, and Bernie's an unchallenging companion on these trips. I keep swearing off him, but then the next time I find myself on a jetway I can't help picking up the next one. Damn you, Kindle, in your enabling ways.

Away by Amy Bloom

Three stars is probably generous here. The book earns big points on characterization and setting, but loses them all on a muddled plot that wanders everywhere and nowhere. The ending still gives me a big "Bwuh? Really?" moment even well after the book's been shelved. I could tell by the 2/3 mark that there wasn't nearly enough story left to give a satisfying resolution, but even so this one reaches new levels of WTF.

World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War by Max Brooks

I don't know what I was expecting from a post-apocalyptic zombie story written by the SNL staff writer, son of Mel Brooks, and author of the tongue-in-cheek Zombie Survial Guide. But it sure wasn't this. I've never been a fan of zombie stories, or any horror genres, really. I can't figure out what possessed me to pick this up in the first place, aside from seeing it on bookshelves everywhere. Still, I'm so grateful I did. It's hard to explain how a post-apocalyptic story of the end of the world can be a breath of fresh air, but there it is. I loved every single second, and am very sorry to have it be over. I want more. Now. Each section gives glimpses into a thousand other stories in this universe that he could have told. Events are referenced in one place and explained a teeny bit more later, but I always had the feeling we were just scratching the surface of a rich universe of stories waiting to be told. The narrative is gorgeously structured. I can only imagine the volume of notes Brooks made to keep it all straight and tie it all together. In short, this is a brilliant story and I can't wait for more from this author.

The Burglar Who Painted Like Mondrian by Lawrence Block

The plot on this one is just plain dumb, and a lot of the events of the story strain credibility to say the least. I've grown weary of Bernie's gatherings at the end of each story. I love it when Nick Charles brings together all the players and suspects in someone's living room at the end of a Thin Man movie to explain to everyone what really happened and to incite the guilty to confess. I love that the guilty party always does. But Bernie is no Nick Charles, Lawrence Block is no Dashiell Hammett, and this is not the 1930s. I appreciate the homage, but it just doesn't work in a modern setting.

The Burglar Who Studied Spinoza by Lawrence Block

I wonder about Lawrence Block's hobbies, and how much of himself goes into Bernie, Keller, and Scudder. There are similarities across characters that can't be coincidence - they've got to be parts of Block himself. One theme I enjoy is the collecting of stamps and coins. It's such a dorky pastime to have, and it amuses me greatly to see it given such prominence in his mystery series.

The Burglar Who Liked to Quote Kipling by Lawrence Block

I like Bernie as a bookseller. It suits him. I also like Carolyn, and I'm glad that Bernie has a sidekick now. But she's pretty much a carbon copy of Dot from the Keller series, which takes a bit of the shine away. They don't talk, they banter, and this gets old after a while.

Atonement by Ian McEwan

What a huge disappointment this was. I feel like a lot of the plot turns were meant to be a surprise to me, but they so weren't. I've considered that maybe the truth was supposed to be obvious to everyone but Briony, but that's not how it felt in the reading. Instead, it was deadly dull from beginning to end as I knew exactly where it was going long before we got there. And the simple telling of the tale wasn't compelling enough to sustain me on a journey whose destination was obvious. The only thing I really loved was a short section early in the book, where Briony is out whacking down weeks to blow off steam about how badly her play is going. She spins this elaborate fantasy about competitive weed whacking and representing her country in this difficult sport at the Olympics, and I was completely charmed. As someone with an overactive imagination that spins nearly-identical fantasies on a regular basis, I loved this tiny bit of characterization. The rest of it, I could just as soon do without. I wonder if I would have enjoyed the movie, had I seen it first.

Hit Parade by Lawrence Block

I have to confess that Keller is probably responsible for getting me back into stamp collecting. For this, I owe him a great debt of gratitude. Lawrence Block is brilliant for many reasons, but his richly drawn stamp-collecting hit man is high on the list. I don't know that there was a lot more to say about Keller, though, so I'm okay with having just three novels in his series. Plus, Dot grates on my nerves after a while.

Hit List by Lawrence Block

I like Keller. I like the situations he finds himself in, and the puzzles he has to solve to address them. I like his creativity, and his sublte, wry humor. This second Keller novel maintains some of the episodic nature of the first (that's Keller's life, after all), while still tying it all together with an overarching problem to resolve. It's the best of both worlds. The series still lacks some sort of essential spark that would propel it into Must Read rather than Enjoyable Enough Read, but at least they're stories I haven't read a thousand times before.

All The Flowers Are Dying by Lawrence Block

This was an unbelievably weak entry into the Scudder canon. I think he's simply become too old for this game, and it wouldn't surprise me if this was his last appearance. First, the bad guy here is the same dude from a previous installment, and he was weak (as a nemesis) then. He's even lamer the second time around. One of the things I love about the Scudder series is that there are no diabolically brilliant but crazy serial killer psychopaths stalking the detective that foiled their evil plans for world domination. Okay, there was a mid-series appearance of someone who vaguely matches that profile, but it's not the norm and it was done well that time. Not so much, here. Second, Scudder is totally passive in this one. He's pretty much marking time, waiting for the resolution but not driving it. It's clear that he knows he's too old for this shit too, but then why feature him? I continue to be impressed with Block's willingness to Go There on some really difficult things, and the unflinching way in which his characters deal with them. But that's about the only thing going for it this time around.

The Burglar in the Closet by Lawrence Block

I'm still wanting to like this series more than I actually am enjoying it. How many times can a single burglar stumble across a murder in the course of his burgling, requiring that he dedicate himself to solving the crime to clear his good (bad) name? The answer so far seems to be "at least twice". So far, I like the writing, and I like the characters, but the plots leave me completely cold.

A Spot of Bother by Mark Haddon

To be honest, I didn't think Mark Haddon would be able to deliver a second novel as fantastic as his first (The Curious Incident of the Dog in Night-Time), but I will loudly declare my wrongness to anyone who will listen. I loved this story. I'm generally not a fan of modern British domestic lit, but this is a huge exception. Nothing has ever captured the middle-class middle-aged suburban British sensibility quite so brilliantly. I was completely immersed in the story's universe on a level that most books fail to achieve regardless of their time and place. It quite simply couldn't take place anywhere else, with anyone else, and still work as well. The end result is a novel that is a cut above. The story follows retiree George as he slowly rides off the rails into obsessive hypochondria. Parts are actually very disturbing as he loses perspective completely and dangerously, but somehow the charm remains even then. Put me down today for a pre-order on Hadden's next book, please.

The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield

I really loved almost everything about this book. So much so that I hardly even want to criticize anything. It was such a breath of fresh air after months of reading gritty mysteries because nothing else could hold my interest. It was exactly the blend of old-time sensibility and modern storytelling that I was hoping for. Vida Winter is a fascinating, enigmatic foil for the pragmatic, sensible biographer narrator. The twin elements of the story didn't feel exactly right, though I can't put my finger on what was off about them. But Margaret's enduring sense of her missing piece and her longing for maternal affection were played just right. Aurelius was also not quite right as a character, though again I have no specific criticisms for why he didn't work for me. Not helpful, I know. I look forward to Setterfield's next book, though I worry that the huge marketing push and success of this one is going to put way too much pressure on her to deliver again.

Burglars Can't Be Choosers by Lawrence Block

I'm not quite sure what to make of the Bernie Rhodenbarr series just yet. I'm obviously coming to the end of Block's Scudder series, and am trying both his other series (Keller and Rhodenbarr) on for size. I don't know that Bernie's a good fit, but I'll probably keep reading until I'm sure. I actually think Bernie himself is great, and I like the lighthearted caper feeling to the story, especially in contrast to the dark depression of the Scudder series at its end. But I didn't enjoy the fact that I could predict nearly every twist and turn of the plot, nor was the resolution very satisfying. We'll see.

Hit Man by Lawrence Block

I didn't know until after I finished the book that each chapter was written and published originally as a standalone short story. My main criticism was going to be the lack of coherent plot or arc for Keller, but now it actually makes perfect sense. I like Keller a lot, and the isolated story format actually seems to make a lot of sense for the character. The nature of his work - and by extension, his life - is episodic. It's hard to envision a single job lasting the length of an entire book, just as it's difficult to see enough in common across multiple jobs to tie into a single novel-length plot. I'll be interested to read the other Keller books to see which direction they take.

Hope to Die by Lawrence Block

The murder mystery this time around is fairly weak, though the book is overall saved by the strength of its B plot. The death of Scudder's ex-wife and the challenges he has in relating to his sons are very compelling. I love this complexity and the absence of clear right and wrong answers. The rest of it was pretty dull. I don't buy Mick Ballou as babysitter for one minute, nor did TJ's involvement with the cousin ring true. The biggest strength of this series is the supporting cast, and they were seriously underused here.

Neither Here Nor There by Bill Bryson

Bryson continues to be hilarious. I enjoyed the pacing of this one better than the last, as each chapter was the length it deserved, rather than matching the column-length requirements of the publication where they first appeared. There are a few distinct images from this book that can still make me laugh out loud at the mere thought of them. I tried to re-tell one of the stories to a friend, and was gripped by hysterical laughter while trying to get through it, rending myself completely incomprehensible. I love a man who's not afraid to make himself look like an idiot for the entertainment of all and sundry.