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A review by quoththegirl
Them by Joyce Carol Oates
1.0
Someone, somewhere, sometime ago recommended Them by Joyce Carol Oates to me. I have no idea who, so I don't know at whom to be miffed right now. I know Oates has won various literary awards and is supposed to be really good, but...ugh. I'm maybe 150 pages in, and so far it's sordid in a terribly dull way. It's not shocking or anything, it's just very blandly ugly. 500 pages of that may be more than I care to suffer through, but I'll at least give it a bit longer to get its act together.
Update: I finished Them, and if I ever recall who recommended that book to me, there will be hell to pay. So bleak, and no redeeming qualities to the bleakness. Full of Detroit-hate and half-alive people. Comparing this book to one of Bradbury's stories, it's as if Them is only capable of describing a tiny, dismal sliver of human experience, as though it doesn't even know anything else exists. Also, for the love of all that's holy, there should be a limit on how many times you're allowed to use the word "damp" in a book.
Update: I finished Them, and if I ever recall who recommended that book to me, there will be hell to pay. So bleak, and no redeeming qualities to the bleakness. Full of Detroit-hate and half-alive people. Comparing this book to one of Bradbury's stories, it's as if Them is only capable of describing a tiny, dismal sliver of human experience, as though it doesn't even know anything else exists. Also, for the love of all that's holy, there should be a limit on how many times you're allowed to use the word "damp" in a book.