Not anymore. At some point in the last couple months, I heard or read the idea that even bad books can help you write better. Plus, I was getting more and more disgusted with the mainstream books that used to be my sustenance. And so, I began my slog through too many bad books.
Some were eye-rolling bad. Some I wanted to like, but I found I kept getting distracted by something--anything--else ("Squirrel!"). Some made me mad.
But the most interesting bad book I read (which incited all of the above emotions, sometimes all at once) was Pulitzer-prize winning novel "The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay".
Now, don't jump down my throat for disliking this book. I know, I know--a bunch of folks thought it was, well, amazing. In general, I'm not a big fan of "literary" novels. They are usually depressing and/or deal with topics I simply won't read about (child abuse, for example). I want my novels to be entertaining--mind candy, you know? (At least, I used to. My tastes are changing, but that's a whole 'nother post.)
All right, so.
This book came highly recommended by a bunch of folks I know. Basic premise: two Jewish cousins in NYC (one recently escaped from Poland) begin writing comic books just as WWII is beginning. The first few chapters were fascinating, totally sucked me in. The next few chapters, not so much--but I wasn't ready to put it down yet. It still held some sense of interest. But I could tell my interest was waning. More often than not, the book was facedown on the side table, rather than in my hand. I kept wanting to pick up a different book. Instead, I found myself surfing the 'net. I'd push myself to go back and read some more. But it just became incredibly bogged down by the sheer detail of the whole comic-book thing. I kept getting so bored.
Once the characters go see "Citizen Kane" and think about new ways to frame their stories, I realized part of the issue I had with the book was that it was written from strange angles, and, at that point, I became delighted with the idea that the author was using the structure of the story to support the comic book theme of the story. Scenes would be written from a point of view that seemed off, until I realized he was trying to focus on a particular, comic-like way to portray something.
Okay, that is so not eloquent. But I can't put it into words. Argh. But I've really been into structure supporting theme lately, so that was cool.
Anyway, that discovery was not nearly enough to sustain me through the rest of the story, which kept getting more and more melodramatic and unbelievable (I guess more of that comic-book theme seeping in?). In the last bit of the book, a new character--a child--is introduced, and the kid was so well-written, I thought maybe the story would finally get somewhere.
Instead, we get an ending that seems as arbitrary as any other point in the book when the author could have ended it. To make matters worse, the kid ends up getting abandoned by the guy he thought for eleven years was his father--he (the dad) leaves in the middle of the night to pursue his lifelong dream of living in CA and writing for the movies. Sure, it makes his "dad" happy and, sure, the kid realizes the other guy, the one he gets along with better, is his real dad. But that doesn't mean the sensitive kid isn't going to be hurt by this choice!
I was mad. I threw the book on the floor. I invested how many hours of my life on this?
And then I couldn't get the book out of my mind for the next three weeks. And now I'm writing a blog post on it. And that made me think: isn't that sort of a measure of a good book? One you can't get out of your mind?
No comments:
Post a Comment