William S. Burroughs, Naked Lunch

Naked Lunch is a very familiar title, and an oft-cited work when it comes to postmodern literature. It works interestingly as a conceptual piece, but not so much as a book one would actually want to read.

I made it most of the way through, but it was so repetitive (due to Burroughs' cut-up method) that I did go ahead an skip the last several chapters, something I rarely do. Instead, I wrapped it up and put it under the tree for my dad, who thought, despite my descriptions, that he would enjoy it. I have my doubts, but now it's in his hands!

Whether I just didn't get it, or because today's culture is so different from the one in which it was written, I found the "novel" neither particularly impressive, shocking, creative or innovative--and certainly not enjoyable. This is another one I would not recommend; a brief skim should be sufficient, I think, for the curious.

Rohinton Mistry, A Fine Balance

I read this book because it was #10 on this list. Otherwise, I'm not sure I would ever have heard of it, let alone read it.

I found it quite long, not particularly well-written, and generally depressing. I didn't have to struggle in particular to finish it; the story does clip along, even if it's from disaster to disaster. For that reason, it reminded me of nothing so much as Tess of the D'Urbervilles, which was also rather bleak for my tastes.

A Fine Balance, for all its darkness, which seems to border (intentionally?) on the absurd, does provide an interesting description of life in India under the caste system, and to illustrate how wealthy even the "poor" in the U.S., for example, are in contrast to the abject poverty described. I can't say I enjoyed or would recommend this book; perhaps I just didn't get it.

Kate DiCamillo, The Tale of Despereaux

The Tale of Despereaux: Being the Story of a Mouse, a Princess, Some Soup, and a Spool of Thread was on my sister's coffee table over Christmas, and I was smitten as soon as I began reading it. In fact, I loved it so much that I persuaded her to let me take it to Walla Walla while she was working that weekend, and, when we were stuck on Snoqualmie Pass for an hour and a half en route, read parts of it aloud to my parents.

I've long had a soft spot for talking animals (see The Chronicles of Narnia, Brian Jacques' Redwall series, and more), and DiCamillo's speak exquisitely: the tiny protagonist's French mother is just one charming example. The style is witty and engaging; the narrator repeatedly editorializes directly to reader, in a voice that lends itself equally well to being read to oneself or aloud. Delicate illustrations round out this small gem, and I'll admit that having seen a preview for the film, I have my doubts that it will capture the glory of the book, let alone the drawings. I'll probably check it out, out of curiosity, when it hits the cheap seats or DVD; I'd love to hear the opinion of any of you who have already seen it.

Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera

I'd had Love In the Time of Cholera on my to-read list for 10 or 12 years, since a friend (Albanian, I believe) recommended it, writing the title for me on a Post-It Note that lived on my bulletin board for years. Maybe because it was released as a movie this year, or because it was on this list that I've been working my way through, I finally checked it out from the library.

I'd seen posters for the movie, but only just watched the trailer. I'm used to books being better than movies (of course), but this one just looked appalling. It didn't look as though they'd gotten the characters or even the plot right. How irritating.

Then again, Love in the Time of Cholera is hardly "the greatest love story ever told"; it's not nearly that simple. The book is fanciful and eccentric, seemingly concerned far less with crafting a moving love story than describing, in rich detail, scenes of life in the times and places it addresses, as well as the inner lives of its quirky protagonists.

I was charmed from the first page by its elegantly whimsical language and rich descriptions. Though it didn't ultimately prove to be one I'd include in my top 10, I did thoroughly enjoy it and might at some point consider reading One Hundred Years of Solitude, although my friends--almost all of whom, when I mentioned it, said they'd read Love in the Time of Cholera in high school--said it was a bit trying because of all the names.