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ktymick's reviews
466 reviews
Nobody's Fool by Richard Russo
3.0
For a book to so distinctly eschew a plot, it must make a concerted effort to avoid bloat. In Nobody's Fool, by Richard Russo, a loosely strung narrative discursively follows Sully and the citizens of Bath. These characters Russo refuses to merely sketch, attributing to these flawed and often wretched residents each an emotional core the reader will find hard to shake. Russo's incredible ability to evoke sympathy out of his characters comes, perhaps, as a result of being unburdened by the necessary trappings of plot, ie. limitations due to appropriate pacing, conflict and resolution, or narrative momentum. There is consider credit afforded to Russo here, as it would be difficult to slap the label of "minor character" on to any of townsfolk of Bath; however, stating that none of the active characters in this story can be reduced to a one-dimensional construct of humanlike emotion should be more of a prerequisite for good storytelling, rather than a literary feat accompanied by high praise.
I found the relentless plodding along of Sully and his neighbors a literal and metaphorical drag. Russo's book clocks in at nearly 550 pages, most of it meandering around, frequently staggering or altogether halting mid-scene to supply an extraneous two page account of Sully's automobile mechanic and his wife, and then never to play a role in the story again. It was if Russo was trying to write a picaresque novel with quirky, rapid-fire characters, with memorable traits and silly names, and then accidentally fell in love with them and set out to justify their fantastically dull existence in his fictional town of Bath. It's not enough to introduce a man whose primary actions in the story amount to cheating on his wife with a different room whenever Sully encounters him next, Russo painstakingly endeavors to make the reader feel for him. And in large part, Russo succeeds. The problem is when the author breaks a certain contract with the reader, one that would ease any fear that Nobody's Fool won't make a fool of its reader. In the end, the characters shack up a permanent, affectionate residence in your memory, but soon you'll wonder when they might start paying their rent.
I found the relentless plodding along of Sully and his neighbors a literal and metaphorical drag. Russo's book clocks in at nearly 550 pages, most of it meandering around, frequently staggering or altogether halting mid-scene to supply an extraneous two page account of Sully's automobile mechanic and his wife, and then never to play a role in the story again. It was if Russo was trying to write a picaresque novel with quirky, rapid-fire characters, with memorable traits and silly names, and then accidentally fell in love with them and set out to justify their fantastically dull existence in his fictional town of Bath. It's not enough to introduce a man whose primary actions in the story amount to cheating on his wife with a different room whenever Sully encounters him next, Russo painstakingly endeavors to make the reader feel for him. And in large part, Russo succeeds. The problem is when the author breaks a certain contract with the reader, one that would ease any fear that Nobody's Fool won't make a fool of its reader. In the end, the characters shack up a permanent, affectionate residence in your memory, but soon you'll wonder when they might start paying their rent.
Hyperion by Dan Simmons
4.0
An intriguing old-school sci-fi, joining together 7 pilgrims of different backgrounds (a retired space general, a private investigator, a priest, a scholar, a poet, etc.) all with some connection to the mysterious cult of the Shrike. I enjoyed how Simmons changed up his writing style a little bit to match the story and personality of each of the pilgrims' tales, dipping into different genres. A veritable space-opera rendition of the Canterbury Tales.
Spaceman of Bohemia by Jaroslav Kalfař
3.0
3.5 Stars
Kalfar is a really talented writer and I'm looking forward to his next book. The first half of the book is Kafka meets Andy Weir's "The Martian," and chronicles all of the reasons someone who saw the synopsis would read Spaceman of Bohemia. Jacob, a Czech astronaut, meets an alien spider with human lips, and they discuss life and love and meditate on many other aspects of "humanry," as he travels through space on a 1-man mission for his country. The second half of the book is slightly weaker, and a more mundane departure from the imaginative set-up of the first half. Jacob becomes grounded back into reality, both physically and metaphysically. Jacob comes to sobering realizations about his inner demons surrounding his fathers involvement with the Communist Party in post-war Czechoslovakia. Kalfar, instead of committing to his initial premise, ends up indulging himself in his writing style, alternatively hurriedly progressing through plot points (Jacob's return from Russia back to his home) to make it back to philosophizing about modern day Czechia and its inward and outward perception of itself. In the end, it seems like a half-hearted attempt at a well-structured fiction novel. On the other hand, Kalfar pens many lucid passages that successfully incorporate Czech history and culture into the greater worldly discussion on legacy, meaning, and the sweet human taste of Nutella.
Kalfar is a really talented writer and I'm looking forward to his next book. The first half of the book is Kafka meets Andy Weir's "The Martian," and chronicles all of the reasons someone who saw the synopsis would read Spaceman of Bohemia. Jacob, a Czech astronaut, meets an alien spider with human lips, and they discuss life and love and meditate on many other aspects of "humanry," as he travels through space on a 1-man mission for his country. The second half of the book is slightly weaker, and a more mundane departure from the imaginative set-up of the first half. Jacob becomes grounded back into reality, both physically and metaphysically. Jacob comes to sobering realizations about his inner demons surrounding his fathers involvement with the Communist Party in post-war Czechoslovakia. Kalfar, instead of committing to his initial premise, ends up indulging himself in his writing style, alternatively hurriedly progressing through plot points (Jacob's return from Russia back to his home) to make it back to philosophizing about modern day Czechia and its inward and outward perception of itself. In the end, it seems like a half-hearted attempt at a well-structured fiction novel. On the other hand, Kalfar pens many lucid passages that successfully incorporate Czech history and culture into the greater worldly discussion on legacy, meaning, and the sweet human taste of Nutella.