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I read 15 total books this month. Here are the fiction books (the nonfiction are on my old blog).
Auntie Mame. Tons of extreme moral issues of just about every sort, some from main, some from minor characters. Some unoriginal humor. Felt disjointed and inconsistent.
Big Stone Gap. Well, I loved the setting and Jack Mac (oh, I know he is a stock character type, but it is one that I fall in love with every time). But the main character is an indecisive brat. And the plot is like Jack Sparrow’s confusing, constantly spinning compass; clearly manipulated to make the story seem long and complex, but ended up making everything feel like filler. Manufactured deepness and complexity in what is ultimately a very silly, unsatisfactory novel. This is why I distrust modern fiction.
Castle Waiting: The Curse of Brambly Hedge. Not what I was expecting, a silly retelling of Sleeping Beauty with some pitiful attempts at humor.
Christmas at High Rising. Some boring stories, some rather funny parts.
Flavia de Luce mysteries: The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie and A Red Herring Without Mustard. This series is my win for August after a bunch of lousy books. As soon as I started the first, I knew I wanted to get my hands on all the rest, so I quickly requested all the currently published full novels, finished three more, and the rest are deliciously waiting on my shelves. As you can see I read a little out of order because I was impatient.These are fun and hysterical. Of course, like all mysteries, they have so many improbabilities, but the personality and humor are charming, and mysteries are always fun no matter how improbable. I must say that the age of the heroine and her fascination with murder, bodies, and the details are a bit disturbing if you look at it too closely.
How Green Was My Valley. Oh, oh. How righteous is the mighty Clan of Morgan. If the Morgans’ sin, their actions are not sins, but everyone else’s slightest fault is the deepest scarlet stain. I could write a tome on this book. I don’t feel like doing that though. Tons of vigilantism, pride, bitterness, self-righteousness (in case you hadn’t picked up on that point yet), etc. No satisfactory character or moral development. No satisfactory ending of the plot (and what exactly was the point and what exactly was the plot?). Pretty writing of the fluke type; the style that an author uses once successfully because the style has the right tone for that one novel’s particular setting and plot, but when you read other works, it is ludicrously overwrought and out of place (this applies to Markus Zuzak’s style, and I’m guessing also Bette Greene and Anthony Doerr). Also, quite graphic sexual similes. Ultimately the story is flat, hopeless, disturbing at times, and unsatisfactory.
Idylls of the King and a Selection of Poems. Hmm, still don’t love epics and poetry. I will keep working on my poetry reading though. I liked some of Scott’s. I’m sure I can find some to like although I’m not sure I will ever love the literary form.
The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane. Charming, sweet. Reminded me of Hitty which I think I now must give another chance.
Those Summer Girls I Never Met. This is unfathomably silly and trifling, and I knew it and meant it for a fun throwaway read. This is not one I really regret as absurd as it is. It is super short and is not fooling anyone on depth.
An Ideal Husband. My ideal husband is the perfect mesh of Lord Goring and Algernon Moncrieff.