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3.58 AVERAGE
3.58 AVERAGE
dark
tense
fast-paced
I know I like a book when I bookmark the audiobook to come back to something said that was interesting or quotable. Nothing here is worth quoting. I am sure it was very cathartic to write, but as a reader I only enjoyed the parts describing places in the Bay Area where I grew up. Sorry. The casual racism wasn't cool and some of the dialog was not believable. I know it is a memoir but I think some liberties were taken.
I kept Googling the Internet to see if anyone else felt as I did but most of the words out there were praise. I was surprised to find out Eggers founded the 826 Valencia Non-profit. That is cool. Someone can be cool but that doesn't mean their writing is. I would have to give the other books a chance to see if I change my mind, as this was the debut work.
I kept Googling the Internet to see if anyone else felt as I did but most of the words out there were praise. I was surprised to find out Eggers founded the 826 Valencia Non-profit. That is cool. Someone can be cool but that doesn't mean their writing is. I would have to give the other books a chance to see if I change my mind, as this was the debut work.
dark
emotional
sad
medium-paced
Read over the course of four pet sitting trips. The scattered and erratic style felt similar to my own thoughts.
overrated, but with some flashes of greatness. maybe it's finally time to read What is the What l
emotional
funny
reflective
sad
slow-paced
A portrait of the most pretentious, ignorant, and insufferable man. I really wanted to like this one, and I really tried to, but the verbose writing style was so hard to slog through. I feel like Eggers really wanted to do something specific, but it didn't result in anything decent. It's unfortunate because his life and story are interesting.
There hits a point in life, when you realize, it's okay to not finish books. While A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius has its merits, inventive use of language, humor, and energy, it also is long winded, verbose and seethes with angst. One hundred pages in and I couldn't take anymore of Eggers flipping between sulkiness, anger, overcompensation, and imaginative exaggerations that stretch for pages.
“How lame this is, how small, terrible. Or maybe it is beautiful. I can’t decide if what I am doing is beautiful and noble and right, or small and disgusting. I want to be doing something beautiful, but am afraid that this is too small, too small, that this gesture, this end is too small—-” Dave Eggers, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
Heartbreaking, staggering. Great, arching adjectives that mock you. They dare you to disagree. Almost beg you, in fact. Eggers looks you in the eye, lets his blood flow, and asks you to please, please tell him he is wrong. Tell him this isn’t heartbreaking, tell him it is ordinary. Tell him it did not leave you winded, it was not staggering. It was a breeze.
But how could you? How could you? It simply isn’t true. From the before the book began, from the copyright page — how many of you read the copyright page? I always do — he shows you his sense of humour, his wit. It reads thus:
© David (“Dave”) Eggers 2000, 2001
Height: 5’11”; Weight: 170; Eyes: blue; Hair: brown; Hands: chubbier than one would expect; Allergies: only to dander; Place on the sexual-orientation scale, with 1 being perfectly straight, and 10 being perfectly gay: 3.
From there you have the “Rules and Suggestions For Enjoyment of This Book”, which pokes fun at the seriousness of the novel’s subject. The preface and acknowledgements include a few more well-placed digs, such as: “This edition reflects the author’s request that all previous epigraphs — including … “Ooh, look at me, I’m Dave, I’m writing a book! With all my thoughts in it! La la la!” (Christopher Eggers) — be removed” and later, when he says that “the author, and those behind the making of this book, wish to acknowledge that yes, there are perhaps too many memoir-sorts of books being written at this juncture”.
I’m quoting extensively because I want those of you who have not read it to realise what kind of writer he is. He writes about his life with simple honesty — from the thought process inappropriate to certain situations, which we have regardless, to the obsessive worrying he would undertake everytime Toph (his brother) was left with anyone who wasn’t family, or by himself. To give you an idea about the book, it’s about Eggers life after his parents both died of cancer, which left him and his three siblings orphans. He became his younger brother’s guardian, and it is about their life.
The book could have been titled A Heartbreaking Work of Reckless Honesty. At times, his writing is almost beat-like, especially when he’s racing through his thoughts. I’ve never lost either of my parents, and I have definitely never been in his situation. But I have had relatives who have died, several from cancer. I can imagine the situation vividly, I can see it in my mind’s eye. What Eggers gives you is the emotions. He does it in an astounding way, too — he both romanticizes the situation and doesn’t, but none of his actual words are flowery. You would think to write an emotionally-heavy book, you’d have to keep saying “I felt…” to elicit a reaction from the reader, but Eggers refrains from that. He just barrels through his thoughts, through the situation, through the wreckage and phoenix from the ashes (him, taking such care of his brother).
I know this is a longer review than I normally post. But it’s a wonderful book. Even without knowing anything about Dave Eggers, this is astonishing. When put in perspective with McSweeney’s, The Believer, 826 National — it’s amazing how much this man has accomplished. Definitely a book that has become dear to my heart.
Heartbreaking, staggering. Great, arching adjectives that mock you. They dare you to disagree. Almost beg you, in fact. Eggers looks you in the eye, lets his blood flow, and asks you to please, please tell him he is wrong. Tell him this isn’t heartbreaking, tell him it is ordinary. Tell him it did not leave you winded, it was not staggering. It was a breeze.
But how could you? How could you? It simply isn’t true. From the before the book began, from the copyright page — how many of you read the copyright page? I always do — he shows you his sense of humour, his wit. It reads thus:
© David (“Dave”) Eggers 2000, 2001
Height: 5’11”; Weight: 170; Eyes: blue; Hair: brown; Hands: chubbier than one would expect; Allergies: only to dander; Place on the sexual-orientation scale, with 1 being perfectly straight, and 10 being perfectly gay: 3.
From there you have the “Rules and Suggestions For Enjoyment of This Book”, which pokes fun at the seriousness of the novel’s subject. The preface and acknowledgements include a few more well-placed digs, such as: “This edition reflects the author’s request that all previous epigraphs — including … “Ooh, look at me, I’m Dave, I’m writing a book! With all my thoughts in it! La la la!” (Christopher Eggers) — be removed” and later, when he says that “the author, and those behind the making of this book, wish to acknowledge that yes, there are perhaps too many memoir-sorts of books being written at this juncture”.
I’m quoting extensively because I want those of you who have not read it to realise what kind of writer he is. He writes about his life with simple honesty — from the thought process inappropriate to certain situations, which we have regardless, to the obsessive worrying he would undertake everytime Toph (his brother) was left with anyone who wasn’t family, or by himself. To give you an idea about the book, it’s about Eggers life after his parents both died of cancer, which left him and his three siblings orphans. He became his younger brother’s guardian, and it is about their life.
The book could have been titled A Heartbreaking Work of Reckless Honesty. At times, his writing is almost beat-like, especially when he’s racing through his thoughts. I’ve never lost either of my parents, and I have definitely never been in his situation. But I have had relatives who have died, several from cancer. I can imagine the situation vividly, I can see it in my mind’s eye. What Eggers gives you is the emotions. He does it in an astounding way, too — he both romanticizes the situation and doesn’t, but none of his actual words are flowery. You would think to write an emotionally-heavy book, you’d have to keep saying “I felt…” to elicit a reaction from the reader, but Eggers refrains from that. He just barrels through his thoughts, through the situation, through the wreckage and phoenix from the ashes (him, taking such care of his brother).
I know this is a longer review than I normally post. But it’s a wonderful book. Even without knowing anything about Dave Eggers, this is astonishing. When put in perspective with McSweeney’s, The Believer, 826 National — it’s amazing how much this man has accomplished. Definitely a book that has become dear to my heart.
Reading the reviews i can see I’m in the minority, and maybe even i understand why. This book has aged, and not all too well. Dave seems like a bit of an asshole for the time he was in, nevermind now, and yes, sometimes he’s too self aware, too intense, too human.
But i think that’s what made this book so incredibly special to me. It is so human. I immediately fall into Dave, i grieve his parents, i laugh at his jokes, i love Toph, i follow his ubsurd way of thinking.
Yes, it’s ironic to call it a heartbreaking work of staggering genius, because it isn’t, but also it’s not ironic at all, because it is a heartbreaking work, of staggering genius.
But i think that’s what made this book so incredibly special to me. It is so human. I immediately fall into Dave, i grieve his parents, i laugh at his jokes, i love Toph, i follow his ubsurd way of thinking.
Yes, it’s ironic to call it a heartbreaking work of staggering genius, because it isn’t, but also it’s not ironic at all, because it is a heartbreaking work, of staggering genius.
I really liked about the first third of this book. I have tried and tried and just can't finish it.
I felt like I missed the deeper meaning, but I went into it thinking that there was something deep and that might have been the problem.