Take a photo of a barcode or cover
3.33 AVERAGE
3.33 AVERAGE
Edition I had seems to be shorter than usual: it had only one of the memoirs (Piggy Sneed) and one of the literary essays (King of Novel). Also, author’s notes at the end of the stories were missing.
That said, I enjoyed the short stories. They had interesting settings and plots and kept me entertained through their run.
That said, I enjoyed the short stories. They had interesting settings and plots and kept me entertained through their run.
3.5 stars to a mixed short story/memoir bag from one the truly great master of (long) novels
The memoirs is kind of funny albeit somewhat aged at this point
The short stories are interesting and sometimes funny, but mostly as sketches to later novels and the authors very honest after-notes
The homage to Dickens, especially Great expectations and A Christmas Carol was interesting and touching, especially for another great fan of Dickens like myself.
The memoirs is kind of funny albeit somewhat aged at this point
The short stories are interesting and sometimes funny, but mostly as sketches to later novels and the authors very honest after-notes
The homage to Dickens, especially Great expectations and A Christmas Carol was interesting and touching, especially for another great fan of Dickens like myself.
Loved it until the final few chapters, or shall I say, book reviews.
I couldn't bare to finish this piece of self-indulgent crap.
funny
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
The first section of short stories is classic Irving. The rest did not merit publication. I never don’t finish a book but this one did not merit my time.
I’ve never read a John Irving novel. It’s possible it took me almost two years to read this book. I don’t remember exactly when I started it…
There is a bookshelf of unread books next to where the cats get fed. Frequently, I must sit and guard mealtime lest the cat with the humongous appetite muscle off the other two cats and eat their food, as well. Sometimes, no matter how many books I already have underway, as I guard the food bowls, I just grab a book off the unread shelf and start reading. As I do with most books I’m unfamiliar with, I assumed this was a novel. I also assumed I would not like Irving. We’ve had this book for decades—my wife brought it into the marriage when we bound our collections in sickness and health. And, so, off and on, through pandemic times, I have read bits and pieces in stops and starts. I considered abandoning it several times simply because I was expecting a novel and, instead, got something akin to a highlights reel of short pieces (essays, short stories, introductions he wrote for other books). Even the title was one that defied my expectations (until I picked the book up, I believe my brain had so firmly catalogued the title as Peggy Sneed that it wasn’t until I started reading that I realized I didn’t even have this correct). So, Peggy got a sex change, nutritional balance was restored amongst the three cats, and I found myself introduced to Mr. Irving (whose cover-sized head on the back of the dust jacket is a bit creepy).
Mostly, I found myself charmed and surprised by him. He seems a more balanced and down-to-earth person than I anticipated and his writing seems more adventurous and odder than I was willing to advance him any credit. “The Pension Grillparzer” alone made this a worthwhile read and made me want to read The World According to Garp in which this story features. His appreciation for Charles Dickens and Günter Grass is deep and well-argued, and he manages to make even the longest of tangents relevant and entertaining (as he does with an anecdote about a story where he meets Thomas Mann’s daughter on a plane and eventually is gifted an audio recording of her playing a duet on the piano with one of her dogs). After each piece selected for this collection, Irving has written a few pages either critiquing his own work or providing insight as to how the piece came to be. These were valuable and almost felt like a justification for the book’s existence.
He seems to have a realistic view of his so-called “place” within the literary world and where his strengths lay; which, self-admittedly, is with the novel. And so, while this was a nice intro and it’s no fault of the book itself, I find myself exactly as I was before:
I’ve never read a John Irving novel.
There is a bookshelf of unread books next to where the cats get fed. Frequently, I must sit and guard mealtime lest the cat with the humongous appetite muscle off the other two cats and eat their food, as well. Sometimes, no matter how many books I already have underway, as I guard the food bowls, I just grab a book off the unread shelf and start reading. As I do with most books I’m unfamiliar with, I assumed this was a novel. I also assumed I would not like Irving. We’ve had this book for decades—my wife brought it into the marriage when we bound our collections in sickness and health. And, so, off and on, through pandemic times, I have read bits and pieces in stops and starts. I considered abandoning it several times simply because I was expecting a novel and, instead, got something akin to a highlights reel of short pieces (essays, short stories, introductions he wrote for other books). Even the title was one that defied my expectations (until I picked the book up, I believe my brain had so firmly catalogued the title as Peggy Sneed that it wasn’t until I started reading that I realized I didn’t even have this correct). So, Peggy got a sex change, nutritional balance was restored amongst the three cats, and I found myself introduced to Mr. Irving (whose cover-sized head on the back of the dust jacket is a bit creepy).
Mostly, I found myself charmed and surprised by him. He seems a more balanced and down-to-earth person than I anticipated and his writing seems more adventurous and odder than I was willing to advance him any credit. “The Pension Grillparzer” alone made this a worthwhile read and made me want to read The World According to Garp in which this story features. His appreciation for Charles Dickens and Günter Grass is deep and well-argued, and he manages to make even the longest of tangents relevant and entertaining (as he does with an anecdote about a story where he meets Thomas Mann’s daughter on a plane and eventually is gifted an audio recording of her playing a duet on the piano with one of her dogs). After each piece selected for this collection, Irving has written a few pages either critiquing his own work or providing insight as to how the piece came to be. These were valuable and almost felt like a justification for the book’s existence.
He seems to have a realistic view of his so-called “place” within the literary world and where his strengths lay; which, self-admittedly, is with the novel. And so, while this was a nice intro and it’s no fault of the book itself, I find myself exactly as I was before:
I’ve never read a John Irving novel.
adventurous
reflective
relaxing
medium-paced
It can’t be overstated how important peak Irving was to my reading youth and how he shaped my lifelong love of long form storytelling. Garp, Hotel New Hampshire and Cider House have each been read and reread over decades.
This book has inexplicably sat on my shelves unread since the late 1990s, travelled two states - packed and unpacked and shelved and shelved again home after home. Having finally read it, I share the opinions of some readers here who say this book is for Irving completists only. I didn’t finish it.
I enjoyed his fiction pieces. In the endnotes, he accurately called out the good and flaws of each. All are good and flawed. As are we all. Most fascinating are the bits in the nonfiction in which he writes about writing. I could have spent hours reading his thoughts on this, but he shared only minutes of input. Trade secrets, I guess.
I skipped the essays on the greatness of Dickens, not that I disagree necessarily, but I’d rather spend my time reading items that compel me to read more, not endure to finish. Life, at this stage, is too short for any less for living contemporary Irving fans, isn’t it?
This book has inexplicably sat on my shelves unread since the late 1990s, travelled two states - packed and unpacked and shelved and shelved again home after home. Having finally read it, I share the opinions of some readers here who say this book is for Irving completists only. I didn’t finish it.
I enjoyed his fiction pieces. In the endnotes, he accurately called out the good and flaws of each. All are good and flawed. As are we all. Most fascinating are the bits in the nonfiction in which he writes about writing. I could have spent hours reading his thoughts on this, but he shared only minutes of input. Trade secrets, I guess.
I skipped the essays on the greatness of Dickens, not that I disagree necessarily, but I’d rather spend my time reading items that compel me to read more, not endure to finish. Life, at this stage, is too short for any less for living contemporary Irving fans, isn’t it?