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tjr's reviews
340 reviews
Velocity by Dean Koontz
1.0
I was pretty bored with this one. I found it to be very formulaic and drab, with almost zero character development within the pages of plot-driven novel. Okay, it's to be expected that a thriller of this nature is going to posit plot over character, but that only works to a point. After that, it is not about humans anymore, but instead cardboard cutouts with traits tacked on. In Velocity, Koontz is pretty much writing at this level.
Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut
5.0
I remember the first time I read this, about halfway through, there was a very special part (for me) that began with the word "meow." Man, I almost ruptured my gut laughing at that. I've read it many times since, and Cat's Cradle is still a favourite.
Duma Key by Stephen King
4.0
I enjoyed "Duma Key." I felt that it was a really strong novel, and the character development was superb. "Duma Key" is probably one of King's stronger works "post-accident," although I have enjoyed every other work he's written in that time as well. I'm sort of partial to King. Nonetheless, "Duma Key" is perfect for someone who wants to get into King's later work, but does not know where to start.
Shadowland by Peter Straub
3.0
“More than twenty years ago, an underrated Arizona schoolboy named Tom Flanagan was asked by another boy to spend the Christmas vacation with him at the house of his uncle” (Straub 3). With this intriguing introductory sentence, Peter Straub’s Shadowland begins. Okay, it might not be the most intriguing sentence ever, but it fulfils the function of catching a reader’s attention and bringing the reader further into the story; for this reason this sentence is a successful introductory sentence.
Turning, now, to my reactions of the novel, I do remember thinking upon finishing Shadowland, “Did this novel have to be so long?” It was my impression that a few of the longer stream-of-consciousness passages could have been curbed, some of the extended flights of magic and phantasmagoria could have been shortened, so that I might have stayed more focused on the text as I was reading it. It was, after all, supposed to be a page-turning thriller, and I found that the thrill of the tale was somewhat lost by the continuous distraction these extended bouts of elaboration caused. As it was, I continually found myself drifting away from the page, only to return a few lines/paragraphs later with the question, What is going on? Perhaps Mr. Straub was rushed and had to fulfill contractual obligations after the success of Ghost Story and thought abstract fill would prove advantageous. Perhaps not. In the end, it doesn’t really matter: The book was published and Mr. Straub was paid. What readers think of the novel, twenty-six years later, matters in the least.
Although I write these criticisms above, and as a result I might be coming across as rather harsh, I did actually enjoy reading this novel. Part of this enjoyment was precisely because of the effort required to keep everything in order, mentally. The setting was eerie and fun to read, and at times it was a real challenge to keep track of the characters (there’s like over a dozen!) as they magically shifted in and out of the text at the whim of some super magician (extra-textually Mr. Straub?). I could see the direction Straub was taking, and I saw what effects he wanted to take. This novel hinted at metafiction—Straub was dabbling with it as the boys in his narrative were dabbling with magic—and I’m thinking that as I read more of Mr. Straub’s works, in chronological order, I will see how an author progressively develops this trait in his writing.
I guess I will find out. Shadowlandwon’t be the last of Mr. Straub’s novels that I read.
Works Cited
Straub, Peter. Shadowland. New York: Berkley Publishing Corporation, 1981.
Turning, now, to my reactions of the novel, I do remember thinking upon finishing Shadowland, “Did this novel have to be so long?” It was my impression that a few of the longer stream-of-consciousness passages could have been curbed, some of the extended flights of magic and phantasmagoria could have been shortened, so that I might have stayed more focused on the text as I was reading it. It was, after all, supposed to be a page-turning thriller, and I found that the thrill of the tale was somewhat lost by the continuous distraction these extended bouts of elaboration caused. As it was, I continually found myself drifting away from the page, only to return a few lines/paragraphs later with the question, What is going on? Perhaps Mr. Straub was rushed and had to fulfill contractual obligations after the success of Ghost Story and thought abstract fill would prove advantageous. Perhaps not. In the end, it doesn’t really matter: The book was published and Mr. Straub was paid. What readers think of the novel, twenty-six years later, matters in the least.
Although I write these criticisms above, and as a result I might be coming across as rather harsh, I did actually enjoy reading this novel. Part of this enjoyment was precisely because of the effort required to keep everything in order, mentally. The setting was eerie and fun to read, and at times it was a real challenge to keep track of the characters (there’s like over a dozen!) as they magically shifted in and out of the text at the whim of some super magician (extra-textually Mr. Straub?). I could see the direction Straub was taking, and I saw what effects he wanted to take. This novel hinted at metafiction—Straub was dabbling with it as the boys in his narrative were dabbling with magic—and I’m thinking that as I read more of Mr. Straub’s works, in chronological order, I will see how an author progressively develops this trait in his writing.
I guess I will find out. Shadowlandwon’t be the last of Mr. Straub’s novels that I read.
Works Cited
Straub, Peter. Shadowland. New York: Berkley Publishing Corporation, 1981.
The Grays by Whitley Strieber
2.0
It was a good read, if not strange, and I thought it was going to be more of his non-fiction stuff, like his Communion was claimed to be. Instead the novel was pure fiction, although fiction that is supposedly ‘based’ on fact. Strieber explains that the foundation of the novel is based on survivors’ tales of UFO abductions; these supposedly true tales are interwoven in the fiction of The Grays, and the result is supposed fact-based fiction.
I would like to quote directly from it, but the book itself somehow ended up going through the wash cycle. The result of this was many little grey tidbits everywhere in the machine. Oh, the irony.
The novel was indeed different from Communion, which is a non-fiction book supposedly based on the author’s own experience. The Grays is based on the real life experiences of American citizens; indeed, it’s like Strieber has taken the median, or the essence, of all UFO abductee experiences and culminated them in the novel. This small fact in itself puts Strieber’s book in a realm of its own: not totally fictional, not totally non-fictional either. Nor, for that matter, is the book totally metaphysical or metafictional.
So, what do I make of it? Well, regardless of its supposed base in reality, The Grays is a pretty fantastical tale: it’s fast paced, full of mystery and deceit, and definitely a page turner. These facts alone also discredit much of the so-called truth in the matter. How can there be reality, along with Hollywood-esque chase scenes, murders, etcetera?
Nevertheless, I enjoyed reading the novel. It was a good pastime. The Grays is a popcorn-novel, pure and simple. However, it was a lot of fun to read, so I got my money’s worth out of its grey little pages.
I think the controversy surrounding the author goes a long way in the marketing and selling of his novels; in reality, I think his persona is as much a fabrication as the tales he himself writes.
Read it if you need some good entertainment.
I would like to quote directly from it, but the book itself somehow ended up going through the wash cycle. The result of this was many little grey tidbits everywhere in the machine. Oh, the irony.
The novel was indeed different from Communion, which is a non-fiction book supposedly based on the author’s own experience. The Grays is based on the real life experiences of American citizens; indeed, it’s like Strieber has taken the median, or the essence, of all UFO abductee experiences and culminated them in the novel. This small fact in itself puts Strieber’s book in a realm of its own: not totally fictional, not totally non-fictional either. Nor, for that matter, is the book totally metaphysical or metafictional.
So, what do I make of it? Well, regardless of its supposed base in reality, The Grays is a pretty fantastical tale: it’s fast paced, full of mystery and deceit, and definitely a page turner. These facts alone also discredit much of the so-called truth in the matter. How can there be reality, along with Hollywood-esque chase scenes, murders, etcetera?
Nevertheless, I enjoyed reading the novel. It was a good pastime. The Grays is a popcorn-novel, pure and simple. However, it was a lot of fun to read, so I got my money’s worth out of its grey little pages.
I think the controversy surrounding the author goes a long way in the marketing and selling of his novels; in reality, I think his persona is as much a fabrication as the tales he himself writes.
Read it if you need some good entertainment.
Koko by Peter Straub
1.0
It has been said that, “Despite the fact that it won the World Fantasy Award, Koko contains only minimal nods towards the fantastic, and was not published as a Horror novel either. But nevertheless, this tour de force – this thriller about Vietnam veterans and a serial killer is a horror novel if we use the word to mean the emotion that stows aboard books of any genre, and even aboard mainstream fiction, rather than the definition of ‘books with blood and guts’ (http://www.infinityplus.co.uk/nonfiction/intstraub.htm).
I somewhat agree. I am also of the belief that this novel is one of the most boring selections I have read in recent memory. It screamed out that Straub was trying hard to write about a war he didn’t participate or believe in. I really can’t believe I finished the novel; I kept hoping that it would get better, I guess—and it never did.
As far as “horror” goes, the only horror I felt was at the end of the novel, when, with dawning horror, I came to the realization that the whole experience of reading Koko was one grand exercise in futility. I want my time back, I thought. Actually, I wanted to erase the whole reaading experience from my mind. The novel was so dreadful to read, in fact, that it almost made me want to never read another novel again. (Is that too harsh?) Okay, so I’m being a little melodramatic, but I do know that it took me over four months to complete the thing, a definite anomaly for such a voracious reader such as myself.
The novel did have a few positive attributes, however. I must credit Mr. Straub for his superb characterization skills: he really did flesh out believable characters in Koko with aplomb. There just wasn’t a point to them, and that was the problem. The story just wasn’t plausible and realistic. In effect, the novel was trapped in a void, a vacuum, with no point and no escape.
Koko did not pertain to anything remotely worth caring about, and this was what made the novel so disappointing. In the end, I agree with the Kirkus Review: “Although sharply limned, the characters remain static (and Kokoan unsatisfactory shadow) until the end; the plot meanders and the twists hold no punch, leaching suspense; the overriding mood of gloom and doom drags the whole effort down. In all, then, an honorable, mighty failure”.
I somewhat agree. I am also of the belief that this novel is one of the most boring selections I have read in recent memory. It screamed out that Straub was trying hard to write about a war he didn’t participate or believe in. I really can’t believe I finished the novel; I kept hoping that it would get better, I guess—and it never did.
As far as “horror” goes, the only horror I felt was at the end of the novel, when, with dawning horror, I came to the realization that the whole experience of reading Koko was one grand exercise in futility. I want my time back, I thought. Actually, I wanted to erase the whole reaading experience from my mind. The novel was so dreadful to read, in fact, that it almost made me want to never read another novel again. (Is that too harsh?) Okay, so I’m being a little melodramatic, but I do know that it took me over four months to complete the thing, a definite anomaly for such a voracious reader such as myself.
The novel did have a few positive attributes, however. I must credit Mr. Straub for his superb characterization skills: he really did flesh out believable characters in Koko with aplomb. There just wasn’t a point to them, and that was the problem. The story just wasn’t plausible and realistic. In effect, the novel was trapped in a void, a vacuum, with no point and no escape.
Koko did not pertain to anything remotely worth caring about, and this was what made the novel so disappointing. In the end, I agree with the Kirkus Review: “Although sharply limned, the characters remain static (and Kokoan unsatisfactory shadow) until the end; the plot meanders and the twists hold no punch, leaching suspense; the overriding mood of gloom and doom drags the whole effort down. In all, then, an honorable, mighty failure”.
Odd Thomas by Dean Koontz
3.0
What makes reading this novel fun is the manner in which it is written: overly light, fun, with just the right mixture of moralizing thrown in for good measure-we hear the voice of Koontz creep in periodically-it’s like he has something to say, but in a nutshell I just can’t say quite what.
However, if you’re really into criticism, then I will say that most of the supporting characters in the novel are pretty two-dimensional: the good guys are all really good, and the bad guys are downright repulsive. Indeed, much of the cast of Odd Thomas lack the emotional complexity to take this amusing tale and turn it into “Literature.”
Bottom line: if you want to read something entertaining that won’t require brain-busting concentration (there’s really only one story line to the plot) then Odd Thomas won’t leave you disappointed. It’s also a pretty good start to a series.
However, if you’re really into criticism, then I will say that most of the supporting characters in the novel are pretty two-dimensional: the good guys are all really good, and the bad guys are downright repulsive. Indeed, much of the cast of Odd Thomas lack the emotional complexity to take this amusing tale and turn it into “Literature.”
Bottom line: if you want to read something entertaining that won’t require brain-busting concentration (there’s really only one story line to the plot) then Odd Thomas won’t leave you disappointed. It’s also a pretty good start to a series.
Blaze by Stephen King, Richard Bachman
5.0
This is my favourite Bachman book. It is so moving, and the character development is much better than some of the early "Bachman" books. I'm stunned that it was a "trunk" novel for so long; I wonder what would have happened if "Bachman" would have published it just after it was written?
For those who are not aware, this author, Richard Bachman, is Stephen King. (Or maybe Stephen King is Richard Bachman…?)
I liked reading Blaze. Although it has been compared to Of Mice and Men, and it was somewhat inspired by that novel, there are many differences that nonetheless make Blaze unique. I won’t give a synopsis of the novel, nor will I give away any spoilers—oftentimes reading a simple review can be a devastating endeavour for someone gearing up to read a new book; indeed, sometimes a review in question can totally change one’s expectations, and I don’t want to do that. Instead, I’ll elaborate as only a Constant Reader knows how, and that’s with a whole lot of fondness, without ruining the story for someone interested in picking up this little gem. Basically if you like reading King in any way, shape, or form, I recommend you pick up a copy of Blaze pronto and delve into its pages.
I recommend this novel.
For those who are not aware, this author, Richard Bachman, is Stephen King. (Or maybe Stephen King is Richard Bachman…?)
I liked reading Blaze. Although it has been compared to Of Mice and Men, and it was somewhat inspired by that novel, there are many differences that nonetheless make Blaze unique. I won’t give a synopsis of the novel, nor will I give away any spoilers—oftentimes reading a simple review can be a devastating endeavour for someone gearing up to read a new book; indeed, sometimes a review in question can totally change one’s expectations, and I don’t want to do that. Instead, I’ll elaborate as only a Constant Reader knows how, and that’s with a whole lot of fondness, without ruining the story for someone interested in picking up this little gem. Basically if you like reading King in any way, shape, or form, I recommend you pick up a copy of Blaze pronto and delve into its pages.
I recommend this novel.
The Taking by Dean Koontz
2.0
It was an alright read, at least at the beginning, but then it turned very self-righteous. If you like extreme right-wing, Christian moralizing, then it'll do in a pinch. The plot was actually fun, but the didactic manner of the omniscient narrator is a total distraction.
So, the novel begins with a torrential rain that we soon discover smells sweet and semenal. At the end of the novel, this rain mysteriously disappears. In between the rain’s arrival and departure, according to an unnamed but limited third person narrator, the world is transformed. However, what the world becomes we cannot quite say, except that everyone disappears except for children and those who think to protect the children.
And Dogs.
Nonetheless, there are many events, and many descriptions, that have a lasting resonance in the reader’s imagination (at least it did for me).
The only downside to this novel is that there is some pretty intense moralizing that takes place here and there–the novel is definitely intended to be didactic, but it almost verges on preachy. I say "downside" not because I disagree with the stance the author takes (and the author's beliefs are pretty obvious), but rather the way in which the message is conveyed: I felt lambasted with it. The whole notion of “show, don’t tell” seems to have been put on the back burner and for that I felt somewhat insulted as a reader. If I wanted a political and/or religious tract, I would have picked up that sort of book if I was in the mood.
What saved this novel, for me, is the story itself and Koontz’s ability to weave a spooky narrative. The Taking has some poignant resonance, and stays in the mind long after putting the book down. There are also many allusions, and even direct references to T.S. Eliot in this novel, and this sort of literariness is what makes a pop-culture novel enjoyable for me. In the end, I won’t hold it against Koontz for being so preachy; nonetheless, I can see how this didactic narrative characteristic can be off putting for some.
So, the novel begins with a torrential rain that we soon discover smells sweet and semenal. At the end of the novel, this rain mysteriously disappears. In between the rain’s arrival and departure, according to an unnamed but limited third person narrator, the world is transformed. However, what the world becomes we cannot quite say, except that everyone disappears except for children and those who think to protect the children.
And Dogs.
Nonetheless, there are many events, and many descriptions, that have a lasting resonance in the reader’s imagination (at least it did for me).
The only downside to this novel is that there is some pretty intense moralizing that takes place here and there–the novel is definitely intended to be didactic, but it almost verges on preachy. I say "downside" not because I disagree with the stance the author takes (and the author's beliefs are pretty obvious), but rather the way in which the message is conveyed: I felt lambasted with it. The whole notion of “show, don’t tell” seems to have been put on the back burner and for that I felt somewhat insulted as a reader. If I wanted a political and/or religious tract, I would have picked up that sort of book if I was in the mood.
What saved this novel, for me, is the story itself and Koontz’s ability to weave a spooky narrative. The Taking has some poignant resonance, and stays in the mind long after putting the book down. There are also many allusions, and even direct references to T.S. Eliot in this novel, and this sort of literariness is what makes a pop-culture novel enjoyable for me. In the end, I won’t hold it against Koontz for being so preachy; nonetheless, I can see how this didactic narrative characteristic can be off putting for some.
Lost Boy Lost Girl by Peter Straub
3.0
Peter Straub once again dazzles with this horror novel. Indeed, Straub has returned to the style that made him famous.
Anyway, this is a very complex literary novel, the type that begs for a second reading. Although this might throw some readers off, it is the literary complexity that draws me to Straub. The protagonist, Tim Underhill, we’ve met before. If you’re a fan, then you’ve also encountered Tom Pasmore, and the city of Millhaven; in lost boy lost girl we meet them all again.
The thing I find most intriguing is the point of view from which this novel is narrated: a reader can’t trust it. At some points within the text, the reader is being reading words that Tim Underhill has written. At other times, it is not really known who is narrating. It is also not known whether or not one can really trust what is being narrated.
Anyway, this is a very complex literary novel, the type that begs for a second reading. Although this might throw some readers off, it is the literary complexity that draws me to Straub. The protagonist, Tim Underhill, we’ve met before. If you’re a fan, then you’ve also encountered Tom Pasmore, and the city of Millhaven; in lost boy lost girl we meet them all again.
The thing I find most intriguing is the point of view from which this novel is narrated: a reader can’t trust it. At some points within the text, the reader is being reading words that Tim Underhill has written. At other times, it is not really known who is narrating. It is also not known whether or not one can really trust what is being narrated.