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3.58 AVERAGE
3.58 AVERAGE
(Reviewed Feb 24, 2015)
As I’m sure it was designed to do, the title of this book caught my eye. It stood out among the myriad titles on the reading list, written in pink ink on notebook paper, that I have tacked up in my cubicle. A heartbreaking work, it claimed to be, not just of regular, run-of-the-mill genius, but of staggering genius. I had no idea what it was about, just that the title made it out to be something amazing. But “heartbreaking” and “staggering genius” can describe a lot of genres. Was it a transcendent romance for the ages? Was it a tale of atrocious abuse and neglect overcome by unwavering optimism? Did it follow the lives and trials of the sentient roundworms inhabiting a planet in the Mintaka solar system? Whatever it was, I was ready to be forever changed by reading it.
Turns out that it’s a memoir. Sort of. It covers actual events that happened in Eggers’ life — the loss of his parents to cancer, becoming the guardian to his younger brother, their move to San Francisco — but it’s clear that the author has exaggerated or fictionalized certain parts of the story. Dave chronicles his (often feeble) struggles to have an impact on the world, balancing his ambition with his new parental responsibilities. It is a blend of humor, philosophy and self-reference that makes for a compelling read.
Having finished it, I can definitively say that I don’t know what to make of this book. On the one hand, it was beautifully written. Eggers shows a prodigious command of the English language, and his writing is a true pleasure to read. The narrator speaks intimately to the reader, as if confiding in a friend — a mix of gritty truths, ridiculous exaggerations and deep personal insights. By the end, I felt like he was someone I knew.
On the other hand, the fact/fiction blend blurred the storyline and sometimes made it difficult to follow. Eggers often exaggerates events or dialogue or makes them up. Which is cool. The book does not claim to be completely true, and sometimes alludes to the fact that certain parts are indeed made up. This creates an interesting reader-narrator relationship. The reader recognizes that the narrator is unreliable, but the narrator admits that he is unreliable, so that, I guess, makes him reliable in his unreliability? If that sentence is confusing, then you’ve gotten a taste of how I felt the whole time I was reading.
Eggers often takes breaks from exposition in order to wax poetic on subjects such as his (or his character’s) personal insecurities and where to draw the line between personal and public life. It’s all very honest and self-referential, but can seem a bit masturbatory at times. The book is very self-aware, admitting its self-awareness, and then admitting the admission of its self-awareness. It got (for me) tiresome after a while. I get it, dude. You’re so meta it’s killing me.
So while I enjoyed reading A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, it was not the life-changing experience I expected from the title. Was it heartbreaking? Not particularly. The characters were appropriately tragic and identifiable, but never vulnerable enough to elicit an emotional response anywhere close to “heartbreaking”. Is Dave Eggers a genius? It’s very possible. His writing is very good. That writing an entire book which basically screams “recognize me for my genius!” won him a bunch of awards is pretty genius in and of itself. But I’m not entirely sure I buy it.
As I’m sure it was designed to do, the title of this book caught my eye. It stood out among the myriad titles on the reading list, written in pink ink on notebook paper, that I have tacked up in my cubicle. A heartbreaking work, it claimed to be, not just of regular, run-of-the-mill genius, but of staggering genius. I had no idea what it was about, just that the title made it out to be something amazing. But “heartbreaking” and “staggering genius” can describe a lot of genres. Was it a transcendent romance for the ages? Was it a tale of atrocious abuse and neglect overcome by unwavering optimism? Did it follow the lives and trials of the sentient roundworms inhabiting a planet in the Mintaka solar system? Whatever it was, I was ready to be forever changed by reading it.
Turns out that it’s a memoir. Sort of. It covers actual events that happened in Eggers’ life — the loss of his parents to cancer, becoming the guardian to his younger brother, their move to San Francisco — but it’s clear that the author has exaggerated or fictionalized certain parts of the story. Dave chronicles his (often feeble) struggles to have an impact on the world, balancing his ambition with his new parental responsibilities. It is a blend of humor, philosophy and self-reference that makes for a compelling read.
Having finished it, I can definitively say that I don’t know what to make of this book. On the one hand, it was beautifully written. Eggers shows a prodigious command of the English language, and his writing is a true pleasure to read. The narrator speaks intimately to the reader, as if confiding in a friend — a mix of gritty truths, ridiculous exaggerations and deep personal insights. By the end, I felt like he was someone I knew.
On the other hand, the fact/fiction blend blurred the storyline and sometimes made it difficult to follow. Eggers often exaggerates events or dialogue or makes them up. Which is cool. The book does not claim to be completely true, and sometimes alludes to the fact that certain parts are indeed made up. This creates an interesting reader-narrator relationship. The reader recognizes that the narrator is unreliable, but the narrator admits that he is unreliable, so that, I guess, makes him reliable in his unreliability? If that sentence is confusing, then you’ve gotten a taste of how I felt the whole time I was reading.
Eggers often takes breaks from exposition in order to wax poetic on subjects such as his (or his character’s) personal insecurities and where to draw the line between personal and public life. It’s all very honest and self-referential, but can seem a bit masturbatory at times. The book is very self-aware, admitting its self-awareness, and then admitting the admission of its self-awareness. It got (for me) tiresome after a while. I get it, dude. You’re so meta it’s killing me.
So while I enjoyed reading A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, it was not the life-changing experience I expected from the title. Was it heartbreaking? Not particularly. The characters were appropriately tragic and identifiable, but never vulnerable enough to elicit an emotional response anywhere close to “heartbreaking”. Is Dave Eggers a genius? It’s very possible. His writing is very good. That writing an entire book which basically screams “recognize me for my genius!” won him a bunch of awards is pretty genius in and of itself. But I’m not entirely sure I buy it.
emotional
funny
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Content Warnings
Graphic: Death of parent
Moderate: Cancer, Suicide attempt
Minor: Alcoholism, Racial slurs
I couldn't wait to be done with this book. The author's obvious contortions to be an edgy post-modern author are pained and failed to provide any real insight, or elicit any meaningful emotional response from me as a reader. From the self-indulgent prologue to the loathsome characters to the terrible prose, I couldn't wait to be done with it.
I found the first 100 pages or so about Eggers' parents’ deaths and his subsequent struggles affecting and absorbing. However, this is one of the few books that I just couldn’t finish. I found it so juvenile and smug that it was absolutely grating, but that’s not why I stopped. When Eggers abandons his straight narrative, he begins musing, and his prose devolves into unbelievably long, rambling paragraphs. His approach has been deemed “inventive” and even “the memoir as metafiction." I was actually only 30 pages from the end of the book when he started another of his lengthy asides, and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I gave up.
See my complete review here:
http://whatmeread.wordpress.com/tag/a-heartbreaking-work-of-staggering-genius/
See my complete review here:
http://whatmeread.wordpress.com/tag/a-heartbreaking-work-of-staggering-genius/
I love a good memoir, and this was a pretty good one. Yes, by Eggers' own admission, it is "gimmicky." But the gimmicks kept the book from falling into sappy, maudlin territory. I actually liked when he "went off the script" as it allowed him to reflect without beating the reader over the head with his introspection. Of course he left things out, changed things up - all memoirs do. However, unlike other memoirs, Eggers wasn't shy about admitting this and even playing with it. I'm not going to pretend this was earth-shattering or the most profound thing I've read, but it was a good read.
This is Dave Eggers' tale of the loss of both his parents to cancer (of different kinds) within weeks of each other and then being the guardian of his much younger brother. It is a super smart book, I mean really REALLY smart-- overwhelming in its cleverness and self-awareness. I found the first half of the book more resonant and felt a bit more distanced and put off by the narrative hijinks in the second half. I'm not sure if the intensely creative, almost jokey style just got old or if the second half was in fact less arresting. I think ultimately this book is less about grief and loss than about crippling self-absorption. That's not really a criticism, because I think Eggers was setting out to write about being wrapped up in himself through (or perhaps because of) his life experiences. Glad I read it, won't necessarily pick up something by Eggers again.
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
hopeful
lighthearted
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Outstays its welcome a little bit but the first chapter is brilliant and it does some interesting things whenever it breaks the narrative and strays into meta-commentary territory.
Love Eggers’ writing but i could not get through this book! It is a fascinating and twisting journey through his experiences and brain. Could not keep my attention past a certain point.
Exceptional text. Deliciously self-referential (albeit equally self-reverential). I loved the fabricated interviews and asides that drew attention to memory's recreational re-creation of events.
I really enjoyed some parts of this, and at times laughed out loud, but the preface was right: some of the stuff about being 20-ish was skippable and drew away from the whole.