Review: The Story of Edgar Sawtelle

The Story of Edgar Sawtelle: A Novel by David Wroblewski

My review

rating: 3 of 5 stars
Alright. So, I think this may be my last stab at an "Oprah" pick. I had to forcibly stop myself from thinking about the story to enjoy this read, and once I did, the tale is engaging. I have to admit that I wanted to know what was going to happen next and did get drawn into the yarn. Hence, the three stars. I do think that the book is well written and has a unique perspective. Plus I am a HUGE sucker for dogs. Love 'em. It almost doesn't seem to matter that they have no real purpose in the story. Just freakin' love them!



Okay. Now that I have all the nice bits out of the way, I can feel free to engage my brain and actually say what was racing through my head when I wasn't suppressing my urge to think about what I was reading:



*Caution: Major spoilers ahead*



Most importantly: Why in the world are we supposed to feel sympathy for Edgar? The nagging voice in the back of my head kept saying - "Uhm... This guy is kinda a prick..." Okay, so Edgar gets dealt some rough cards in the form of a really crazy uncle. He is also a young teenager and, ya know, hormones and all that jazz. I really tried to keep that in mind as Edgar spiraled down deeper and deeper into himself as the story progressed. But I just could not shake the feeling that I really don't like this kid. He is selfish and stubborn to an extreme and seems to feel no need to consider his actions in the context of how they affect anyone else. We are with him, and his character alone, for a long period of the book. Yet his inner life is remarkably flat and his attention mostly focused on the menial tasks of the day to day.



For example, at the age of 14, he basically murders the money-grubbing Doctor Papineau. We're not talking about the son of an abusive father, or a child hardened by the cruelty of life, Edgar is a very sheltered boy who has barely had interaction outside of his mom, dad, and the family dogs. Yet, the amount of time that Edgar spends ruminating on his homicide is fairly scanty. We are essentially told by the narrator that he really cares and wants to make right with the doctor's son, Glen - yet we see no evidence of this from Edgar's actions. Later, I was especially confused at the striking dichotomy of Edgar's inner emotional life and his actions when he then blinds Dr. Papineau's son with burning quicklime and completely ignores him as he thrashes about in agony for basically the next 60 pages. Really? He is deeply sorry about Dr. Papineau?



But worse, is the callousness with which Edgar abuses and manipulates his mother. I kept thinking, what happened to Trudy?!? The poor woman, who in a moment of panic, sends her child away to keep him from jail. Stunned from Edgar's near physical assault, she then gets to watch him murder a family friend, and then Edgar runs off for months, leaving no trace. Her husband is dead, her child is missing, and the family business is falling to pieces. I couldn't shake the feeling that this story should have been about her. Instead, we are stuck following Edgar through the woods as he steals from countless people, takes pleasure in terrifying small girls, takes advantage of the kindness of strangers, and is apparently so unsympathetic that not even his dogs are willing to stay with him.



Edgar shows no identifiable remorse for the situation he has left his mother in. Edgar at least knows that she has lost her husband and is losing the business. He is convinced that she is becoming deeply involved with a homicidal killer. Plus, if he bothered to think about it, he would know that she must be stricken with worry and guilt over his little disappearing act. Yet his "beloved mother" Trudy is hardly mentioned, for all of our many pages traveling with Edgar in the backwoods. Instead, Edgar spends his days obsessing over his last childish acts towards the family dog, Almandine. Then, when Edgar returns to the farm in the last pages, he bullies his mother into passivity by cruelly threatening to run away again.



What kind of cold-hearted monster is this child? Why should I be rooting for him instead of hoping that the police pick him up and toss him in jail? (this coming from a die-hard liberal, btw...)



Anyway... The dogs are nice! If somewhat confusing... They seem to linger at the border of man's "best-est friend ever" and supernatural psychic-canines. Which had me confused for a while. For all of the discussion of the dogs in this book, I remain unsure of the point or metaphor that they are supposed to serve... But hey, who can resist a fuzzy snout and liquid brown eyes? I wondered at numerous times if the mere presence of the dogs in the story was the reason that this novel has taken off.



Finally, the finale. A lot of people seem pretty pissed off with this ending. After all, it is shocking to see the barn burn, nearly all of the main characters maimed or killed, and the work of generations of creation disbanded in a single night. But, I was actually holding out for something worse. Up until the very ending, I kept thinking that "evil uncle Claude" was actually going to just be human instead of some two-dimensional gremlin. I kept expecting there to be some epiphany, where Edgar would realize that he was wrong and that he has just destroyed everything in his misguided attempts to be a lone vigilante. Which, given my low opinion of Edgar, would have been perversely satisfying and would have a lot more moral value than the real ending.



So I also dislike this ending, but for entirely different reasons. I think that Wroblewski had to make it big, mostly because I don't think most readers would have been satisfied with an ending that wasn't somewhat epic. If Wroblewski could have avoided the potential cloying cheesiness, I even would have been satisfied with an ending where the dogs did something to save the day. Perhaps a message of redemption of sorts for all of the years of hard work that went into their care... Or really ANY ending where Edgar is forced to confront all of the shallow-thinking that has led him to this point would have been nice. A recognition that the world doesn't operate solely in either light or shadow.



Instead we get a slash and burn ending. We rip back the curtain AND!!! everything is exactly as we thought...



Claude is the monster that we were lead to believe all along. Edgar is at least consistent in his utter indifference to his mother, leaving her literally wrestling on the ground with the enraged "bull-like" Glen. Who, by the way, Edgar has now orphaned AND blinded and who is thereby the only legitimate tragic figure of the story, other than Trudy. For her part, Trudy is still the passive woman who helplessly stands by while an ocean of bad luck crashes around her. Finally, the dogs turn out to be exactly as ordinary as any other pack of animals in the moment of truth (despite all of the foreshadowed paranormal happenings earlier in the book).



I don't care that everything burns. The only two characters with any redeeming traits are left standing in the end anyway (albeit, one is seriously disfigured physically, and the other will most likely commit suicide shortly thereafter). But what is the point of it all?



Yuck.



But it was at least entertaining brain candy!






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Review: The Dark Side

The Dark Side: The Inside Story of How The War on Terror Turned into a War on American Ideals by Jane Mayer

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
My reaction to this book has proved to be extremely conflicted. It was recommended and given to me in audio format by my good friend Richard. I had previously seen this title climb the NYC best-seller list and had resisted my urge to run out and buy it. This is partially due to the ever-mounting pile of books which has collected by my bed stand, and also my fear that I would just be reinforcing some deep stereotypes against the last administration and their policies without really adding to the depth of my understanding of this "War on Terror" that we seem to be pursuing on so many ill-advised fronts. So yes, reader beware, this reviewer is a liberal, though I hope not rabidly so.



The work as a whole, was undeniably worth the time that I took to listen to it. And yet, as far as I got, it was everything that I worried it would be as well.



Much of the beginning of the book was certainly a good review on the lead up to our wars in both Afghanistan and Iraq. It brought out a familiar cast of characters which most alert citizens have already been aware of for some time as well as a number of names of politicians, staff members and lawyers that skulked in the background of the escalation, greasing the proverbial wheels. I already knew the bulk of this message from following the news however, and the book primarily filled in the details. While I know that this type of information deepened my understanding of the process and how we seemed able to so rapidly descend, as an entire nation, into a culture of irrational fear, it still occasionally seemed trite and pointless.



I suspect that Mayer was attempting to maintain a journalistic distance and just stick to the facts, but in the parade of names and associated actions, I couldn't always escape the feeling of a long, drawn-out, finger-pointing barrage. Yes, these people did some things that I find reprehensible. Yes, people should know about them and not just scapegoat the figureheads of Ashcroft, Cheeney and Bush. But what I was really hoping to read between the lines was some sort of insight into how the nation was so thoroughly led by the nose. Why the political machine that should connect reality and the popular voice to government broke down so completely. Why the media stood by so complacently...



It is clear to me that most of the people who are most responsible for what I think is a gross violation of human rights and a tragic misdirection of the popular attention away from what should have been the big issues of the last 8 years will not face the appropriate legal judgment for their crimes. In fact, if it was up to me, I wouldn't even have Obama waste the political capital on such an endeavor - which would be certain to deepen the partisan rift we have in ideologies in the US. So, given that information, I was hoping to glean a deeper message (either directly or indirectly stated by Mayer) on how we might think of guarding against this type of manipulation in the future. Perhaps I just didn't pay close enough attention, but to me the name-game just started to feel tiring and depressing. Unfortunately, finger-pointing rarely gets us anywhere.



For the positives, I think the book really managed to flush out Cheeney's background for me, filling in a large gap in my knowledge and eliminating the two-dimensional villain I had mentally painted. I came away from the book with a better understanding of the man, and feel I can understand his motives much better - though I still reserve the opinion that they were extremely paranoid and misguided.



Bush's character was also illuminated for me. Although I long ago turned away from the portrait so hyped in many liberal outlets of a man too simple of mind for the job, I only recently reconciled my thoughts into a coherent picture of his leadership style. This book reconfirmed my suspicion that Bush was a man who fell prey too readily to the mentality of "us vs. them" in both his personal interactions and world view. This appears to have led Bush to a fierce sense of loyalty and trust in his closest advisers when prudence would have dictated that a wider range of voices should be heard. It likewise led him to ignore all nuance and go straight for the jugular when dealing with the perceived enemies of the USA. Bush is a somewhat tragic figure in the sense that I believe that he never stopped trying to fight against what he thought to be the biggest threat to our country even against some staggering criticism. In the end, he is genuinely hurt and surprised that the public doesn't share his mentality.



About halfway through the book, many pages are devoted to the "interrogation" methods that have been reinstated under the last administration (i.e. torture). Mayer's detailed descriptions of these proceedings, paired with the vast intelligence on their ineffectiveness and tendency to produce false testimony was enraging. While listening to this section, I found myself more angry than I have been in years. I was literally banging around the room practically shouting at my mp3 player in appalled rage. I had to stop the book and listen to something more soothing for a while. So, while I think that it is critical for people to know what has been going on, I have to admit I returned to the book only reluctantly.



After that, I finished out the section describing the torture methods and listened until I had gone ~2/3 through the book. Between the disheartening questions that this book caused to resurface in my mind and my tantrum stint, my energy was spent. I kept the book file for quite some time, waiting for the will to return to polish it off, but it never returned.



The emotional impact that the book gave me is an indication to the importance of the subject matter and of Mayer's talent in her prose. Hence, the high rating I have given this book. However, without knowing the finale of this book, I am unsure if she ever derived some deeper, more philosophical conclusions. And without this, I fear that the effectiveness of the work is fatally flawed.




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Review: Son of a Witch

Son of a Witch: A Novel by Gregory Maguire

My review

rating: 5 of 5 stars
I initially was extremely disappointed by this book. I read this book once and just didn't get into it. Liir as a main character just seemed far too much of a shadow of his supposed mother, Elphaba, seeming to have missed the genes for the ambition, drive, and talent that Elphaba possessed in spades. It was a difficult read, with Liir stumbling about the countryside obliviously running up against his fate and possessing little control of it. The story, while occasionally engaging, was fractured and lacked the clear forward drive that comes with a strong lead character. All of this I imagined to be the weaknesses of the book, keeping it in the shadow of "Wicked" in the same way that Liir was eclipsed by Elphaba.



"A Lion Amongst Men" came out recently, and in anticipation of another riveting story from Maguire, I reread 'Son of a Witch'. In my second time around, I recognized that I had missed the entire point of the book.



Son of a Witch is brilliant precisely BECAUSE it tackles the exact problems that I listed above. As our story opens, Liir is cast aside from all that he has ever known. Elphaba is dead, his extended family has been kidnapped, and he can't even keep the attention of the vacuous-yet-well-meaning Dorothy. Lacking any real skills, he is thrown, friendless, into a world that he doesn't understand and that is far beyond his control.



For the first half of the book, Liir is truly a pitiable soul. He loses his home, then he loses his innocence. Seeing the corruption of the world around him, he hides away and abandons those who he has decided he cannot help. Liir is constantly making comparisons between himself and the woman he imagines might be his mother. He fully understands how inadequate he is in this match-up and wastes only a little while on pity for himself before he gives up and throws his lot in with the soldiers of the Emerald City. Liir learns more of discipline in the army and he has time to catch up to his peers in learning and wisdom. When another betrayal and more evidence of corruption come up during his service, he has the skills to roll with the fate life has dealt him.



What follows is a remarkable blossoming of Liir's character. His lack of confidence and grace give way to a sort of bitter-sweet recognition of the way that the world works. He develops a well-honed sense of irony and healthy self-depreciating humor - one that was not immediately apparent to me during my first read, but which is all the more precious for being so well hidden.



In the end, Liir has become a hero, though he does not even recognize this himself. Perhaps this is because his heroics are not those fit for a bedtime story of Brothers Grimm. Instead, Liir is a well-rounded man of principals and compassion. He is a hero in a world where the princesses are not always innocent and lovely. A hero in a place where the dragons are still terrible, but less so than the Machiavellian schemes of the humans behind them. A hero in a time when one man, no matter how devoted, must recognize his own limitations and inability to remake the world in a better light.


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Review: The Stuff of Thought

The Stuff of Thought: Language as a Window into Human Nature by Steven Pinker

My review

rating: 2 of 5 stars
I am always hesitant to completely pan a book that is clearly written by someone vastly more intelligent than I, but in this case I would have to say that this book definitely did not work for me.



The root of my problem with this book is that the claims and synopsis printed on the cover seem to bear little relation to the actual material contained within. We are led to believe that this is a book solidly within the "popular science" category and that it will deal primarily with the concept of how language molds the way that we think and interact.



Instead, we crack open the novel to find what would best be suited as a textbook for the aspiring linguist. The first third of this book is devoted almost entirely to what seems like some sort of painful flashback to 6th grade English grammar lessons - on speed. Its been a long while since the days of transitive/intransitive/ambitransitive verbs, content-lockatives, and the like. I'll admit that I do not share Pinker's sense of thrill when discussing such topics, but I did slog through them and can vaguely see why he begins his discussion with this approach. Yet the "meat" of this initial discussion seems fairly scanty relative to the painfulness of the necessary effort on the part of the reader.



The book picks up a little steam as it heads into the next few chapters. Describing those on the "fringe" of the language & thought debate. First we hear of academics that make claims that imply that nearly all words are innate to the human mind, and are inborn as part of our genetic makeup (i.e. that our vocabulary is essentially hard-wired). Pinker dispatches this idea summarily - a feat that hardly seemed heroic, given how ludicrous the concept is.



Then Pinker goes on to disarm the arguments of the opposing camp, Determinists that believe that language controls thought. As an uninitiated, arm-chair philosophizer on the subject of language and thought, I had always given more credit to this idea. I am aware of how much of my inner life and thoughts seem to use a dialog that is carried out in words. However, Pinker gives scientific evidence that suggests that our minds control language moreso than the other way around. This was my favorite part of the book. Yet, by deflating this argument, Pinker also takes away a good deal of the relevance of the book, thereby deflating my interest as well...



The major themes in the rest of the book take the form of:

1. Dissecting the ideas of other academics in the field. Which again, would be a great deal more interesting if I had actually decided to go into graduate school for linguistics and was familiar with these persons.



2. Discussing tangental psychological/cultural concepts, often in terms that seem so divorced from language that one might wonder if they are sections taken from another book.



3. Hand-wavy ideas about the evolution of the human brain.



And last, but certainly not least...



4. LOOOOOONNNNGGGG paragraphs of word-"play" in-between.



Its not so much that Pinker doesn't have interesting ideas wedged in here and there, its just that if you've followed other sciences, you've most likely encountered most of these concepts before. Then again, even some of the original ideas that I found in this book were fairly obvious and were ones that I had already conceptualized myself, even if I wouldn't have been able to frame them as well as Pinker does. Furthermore, Pinker writes with a playfulness towards language that is fun in short bursts, but can obscure his point and be exhausting in the long haul. The delivery of some ideas were so couched in unnecessary detail that I almost felt like Steven Pinker and "The English Language" were sharing some sort of private joke. Frequently, after spending a few moments to decrypt some of his more florid paragraphs, I found that the concept they contained was fairly banal.



Pluses: Pinker clearly knows his stuff and presents it with what appears to be an unbiased eye. The sections involving direct scientific experiments were revealing and fun, as were the sections on polite language and sex (as sex always is...). The language of the book is a great exercise in concentration and is peppered with lots of great SAT/GRE-Prep words! Doubles in value as a good Kaplan study book! The take-home message seemed to be that language is not in control, we (and culture) are... Which is a reassuring thought, and is one that I am grateful to have learned.



Negatives: By thereby castrating the power of language to affect our thought process with his initial arguments, much of the remainder of the book is left floundering around in the domains of other disciplines. We hear of psychology, cultural practices, and evolution. Yet, language must now take a passive back-seat to these issues, only acting to give us tiny clues to their nature. The novel concepts that language can teach us turn out to seem scanty and flimsy. Furthermore, manner in which Pinker doles out these intriguing little nibblets seems unnecessarily drawn-out and buried in overly technical/flowery language.



In the end, too much of this book seems to reach for something larger, but end up as merely 'semantics' (fully in the negative connotation of the word).


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Review: Self-Made Man

Self-Made Man: One Woman's Journey into Manhood and Back Again by Norah Vincent

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
The premise of Self-Made Man is one that ought to grab your attention and be good for some entertainment value, even if the book were horribly mangled in its execution. Fortunately for me, Vincent did an excellent job in the balancing act, keeping her tale delightfully salacious while also sharing a new perspective on a question which has become monotonously tiresome in its everyday ordinariness.



What is it that often makes men and women seem like such different species? To tackle this question Vincent, a self proclaimed dyke, goes undercover in realistic drag, living large swaths of her life as a man for a couple of years. This immersion style leads her to question a great many of her own assumptions along the way (a fact that seems to alarm many who have also reviewed this book), but which seems to me to provide a great deal more insight onto the question than other works that seem to throw up their hands and take a "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus" outlook.



Along the way, Vincent takes joins an all-male bowling league, takes jobs in several "testosterone-driven" careers, dates countless women and ends up going to an all male therapy retreat. If there was one major complaint I would take with this book, it would be that it seemed front-loaded. The earlier experiences were frequently ones that I could relate to more, whereas later experiences like the therapy group seemed to be dealing with some fairly damaged individuals. It got especially difficult at the end, trying to take away any serious message from people who just didn't seem to represent the larger population - either male or female.



In deciding what to write about this book, I did some reading of the reactions of others. Many have blasted Vincent for being overly sympathetic of the men in her tale and for lampooning women. While I can certainly understand why this is felt, I take some exception to the criticism. In many cases, I felt the author was merely putting herself in the mindset, attempting to play the role as best as she could. Often when she claimed to better understand a certain behavior, I didn't always feel that she was endorsing it. Nor did she equate her negative experiences with some women as being entirely representative of womankind.



I personally felt vindicated by some of the points that she elaborated in her book - often things that I have questioned myself, but never had a second opinion for. For example, her attention to the importance of eye-contact among men and the signals it conveys struck me as entirely true - something I've known instinctively, but never seen written down in black and white. Ditto for the male equivalent of the Madonna/whore paradox, which she chooses to call the warrior/minstrel complex. This being the idea that men are trained to act as hardened individuals, yet should somehow be equally capable of being attentive to and expressive of a large range of internal emotions.



A great deal of her anxiety as her alter ego, Ned, was not so much that she wouldn't 'pass' as a man, but would end up passing as less than a man (i.e. an effeminate/gay man). This is obviously something I can relate to strongly as a gay man myself, and perhaps this biased me. But it was still refreshing to see a voice that straddled the line between the sexes, pointing out the ridiculous nature of the chatter we frequently hear of about men and women being worlds apart.


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