cattytrona's reviews
286 reviews

slightly too dense to be a good fairytale, and slightly too blithe to feel really emotionally satisfying in the end, but passes through some good stuff on the way. there’s some gorgeous descriptions of housing and trains and instantly imaginable characters. and i was completely blown away by the Governor Pyncheon chapter. its use of second person, its commitment to it, and the appearances of the ghosts, are so effective in what they do, and so aesthetically and vividly distinct that i thought of films: i was  reminded of the sudden, memorable distinctions which a changed in visual language can create (the black and white parts of Dune Part 2, the reality/expectation segment of 500 Days of Summer, the brief court sequence in Dial M For Murder); i can’t think of another book section so striking that it caused me to recourse to visuals like this did (for instance, the story within a story here, which does have a distinct style to it, did not inspire anything like that). so that was great.

quick, likeable crimeish novel. ends very quickly. enjoyed the lagos setting, and wish there was even more of the city’s geography visible. 

i think if you care about writing/writing (verb/noun) today, you need to be reading proulx. doesn’t matter if you think you’re interested in the subject or not: the ability with which she shapes her stories at every level of focus is nuts. one of a few really doing it.

in some ways, a completely atypical book, with its huge scope,  utterly clear, labyrinthine structure, and fundamental thematic point: this is about wood, the woods, the world. however, also reminded me how much i like historical novels, because it has so much of what makes the best of them great: bursts with history, detail, sprawl, complicated family relations, business dealings, insane deaths. in many ways, in fact, this is just a reeling off of ways to die in the wild, but the flip side of that is a lot of lives are lived first.

am fascinated with the emergence, growth, of familiarity throughout the novel: known place names, in-text repetitions (like the promethean appearance of fires as a major risk part way through) create a world which becomes increasingly familiar, whilst clearly emerging in sequence with what came before; saying, these pasts are today’s inheritance, they are not separate, alien, they bleed directly into their future which is our past and present. there is so much wood around me right now. what is to be done?

very readable and fun. is basically the film again, but i liked the film so i’m not mad about it. lacks the visuals, but sprinkles in some interesting stuff about the protagonist’s relationship with god, and lots of cool pope facts. 

an interesting book about an interesting topic, but although i will still remember the case in a few months, i’m not sure i’ll particularly remember the telling. the summative approach, bringing together historical and more recent reporting, was well rationalised, but in actuality often ended up feeling like a summary, whereas i think i wish the book had a bit more critical reflection on these sources. as a lover of train journey’s i didn’t mind the author’s interjections about his experience investigating, but at times it was clear he was from the south, and there were a few attempts to imply some greater meaning in references to delayed journeys or his social life which felt distractingly meaningless. i also thought the final notes the book ended on were weak.

consistently solid collection of stories, except for the one which tried to make you work out the solution your – what an annoying gimmick. a little festive fun

just a very charming children’s story. not as expansive as i remember it, but i’m bigger now.

genuinely a lot i found really interesting here. i felt for pamela. it’s inherently a fascinating situation to read about today: recognisable yet ultimately alien. i liked how writing was portrayed within the text, as such a source of power  to keep, and such an act of love to give. i thought the stakes were compelling. i found the romance interesting, certainly, and thought you could really see the roots of more modern ambiguous romances in it, which use their problematic elements as a source of titillation or empowerment (i am thinking about the film secretary specifically, although i don’t think liking that means liking this), which is a lens which makes what pamela a little less grim. i genuinely found this notable and provoking.

unfortunately it also took me forever to read and was often a real drag and could have easily been a hundred pages shorter, with all its minutiae and repetition. 

made me reflect on listening versus reading books. I enjoyed the audiobook of this: it's well narrated, and suits merricat's first person narration out nicely. the idea that she's chatting away did help keep me engaged, whereas I think if i was reading, with an exclusive focus on the page, her voice could have begun to grate on me. at the same time, there were moments were I felt I wanted to see it written down, that jackson's use of language was carefully constructed to do something which I wanted to be able to look at and figure out. obviously she was writing for readers, not listeners, and I felt conscious there might be something I missed.

flyn is a very lyrical writer, which is a nice surprise in non-fiction: she's very good at conjuring the landscapes this book is all about. they're extremely interesting, some in their far flung inaccessibility, but it was also nice to know what those big red hills around edinburgh are: the bings.
struggled slightly with the audiobook - i'd tune into the middle of a description and find i couldn't quite recall where was being described, even if i had been attentively listening to the intro - but at the same time, flyn narrates it really nicely.