#94: The Catcher in the Rye

Like any decent book lover, I had already read J.D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye.  Considering the first reading was 15 years in the past, however, I read it again.  Not only to remain true to the "100 Book Challenge", but I wondered how my perspective on the book had changed now that I'm a crotchety, old 30-something with at least one school-age child of my own.  What I really wondered is, had I been around when this book was published in 1951, would I have gone arm-to-arm with other paranoid parents, burning copies of the book on the library's front steps?

My answer: Naaaah!

The gilded year of 1951 was a long a$$ time ago.  While the book is still entertaining, it's rebellious influence is a tad outdated.  Whoooo, he doesn't like school.  Oh no, he doesn't want to conform?!  Wow.  Today's kids watch "16 and Pregnant" and die their hair blue.  And personally, I don't want my kids to be conformist drones (not that I want them to be "16 and Pregnant" either, but blue is kind of a cool hair color.) 

Yes, I will say it:  I'm too young (for once) to truly understand the shockwaves The Catcher in the Rye caused in 1951.  I was an 80's / 90's kid.  I listened to Nirvana.  Sex among high school students was a given, not an abomination.  It was cool to wear "grunge" clothes and be at odds with society when I was a kid.  Not all of us, but some (the cool ones) were actually raised to question what we were told. 

Aha!  I got it!  Maybe my generation is partly the result of books like The Catcher in the Rye!  Maybe my parents read it, and sparks went off in their pre-wired brains, and they thought, "Hey, right on Holden Caulfield!  Groovy!"

And then, there were some who read the book and said, "I'm gonna kill somebody!"  For instance, Mark David Chapman (killer of our beloved John Lennon), Robert John Bardo, and John Hinckley, Jr. were all said to have been influenced by this book.  What the hell?

Just for fun, take the quiz:  Which "The Catcher in the Rye" Killer Are You?  There is the option of being completely sane, but if you do end up getting a "killer" result, perhaps The Catcher in the Rye is a book you had better leave on the shelf...

What I Loved...

I just loved how it's written.  It's an enjoyable read that doesn't have me running to the dictionary every five seconds or popping ibuprofen to fight a migraine.  I didn't have to read 35 history books to understand the references.  I just read.  And then, there are the little nuggets of completely useful advice for those of us, particularly those of us in our youth, who may be wandering in this life, wondering about our purpose or why we have to go to freaking school.  Like when Holden goes to his old teacher, Mr. Antolini, and he says:

"Something else an academic education will do for you. If you go along with it any considerable distance, it will begin to give you an idea what size mind you have. What’ll fit and, maybe, what it won’t. After a while, you’ll have an idea what kind of thoughts your mind should be wearing. For one thing, it may save you an extraordinary amount of time trying on ideas that won’t suit you, aren’t becoming to you. You’ll begin to know your true measurements and dress your mind accordingly.”

Well said, Mr. Antolini!

What I Hated...

Okay, so I know that I was just going on and on about how nonconformity is a good thing.  Blah, blah, blah.  BUT Holden Caulfield doesn't conform to anything...except maybe innocence.  Dr. Mahaffey makes the assessment that, while he strives to bypass adolescence and come into his manhood, he is really tortured by the loss of his own innocence.  He has an obsession with his kid sister, Phoebe, and he desires to make a profession of watching kids play in the rye, so he can "catch" them before they go over a nearby cliff.  He is constantly worried over children's corruption in this wide, horrible world and his plan is to rebel against it all.  He is a never-ending complainer of what he has discovered in his almost-adulthood, and it gets a little annoying, not to mention the fact that it makes him completely and ridiculously insane.  I KNOW!  That was the purpose of the whole book!  But I kinda just wanted to slap him.

Do you relate to Holden Caulfield a little too well?  Take the quiz:  Which "The Catcher in the Rye" Killer Are You?  to find out!

What's Next?

I've been considering an upcoming visit to Italy, so I am SO EXCITED about Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa's The Leopard (or Il Gattopardo in Italian)!  Sources say it may be the best Italian novel of all time, and it is historical fiction, which I love, love, love!  Let's get a movie preview:

#95: The Woman in White

As you may have noticed, The Woman in White, by Wilkie Collins, nearly single-handedly destroyed my blog.  Okay, so maybe kids, work, house, pets, and an overgrown garden played their parts, but The Woman in White had her ghostly hands around the neck of The Book Club Book and squeezed.  Luckily, months later, I was able to pry her white fingers away and pump some life back into the nearly-dead, motionless body of this blog.

Why is The Woman in White so detrimental to The Book Club Book, you ask?  Well, because it’s just not that remarkable.  The prospect of filling a whole blog post with ramblings of a book that I don’t really care about, I knew, would do nothing more than lull the reader and the writer (me) to sleep.  And who wants to write about a boring book when there are so many other lovely, more exciting books to read!?  Let it die, I told myself.  If these are the kinds of books I’m going to have to write about, then I might as well let it die. 

But I’m just not the type to give up easily, albeit it may take me several months of dodging the battle before I decide to join the war.  I never forget, and darn that Woman in White!  I just could not let her win!  My revenge is to write as short of a review as possible, because honestly, I feel that is all this book deserves.  And Dear Reader, I feel much more of a commitment to entertain you than I do to give homage to poor Wilkie Collins.

Let me first add the disclaimer that I (gasp) have never really cared for mystery books.  So what if this book started a genre?  It reads just like most other mysteries (yawn).  Woman is wronged, man outwits and defeats the bad guy, right after his diabolical plan is revealed.  People die along the way.  Blah, blah, blah.  If you like mysteries, in which the outcome always, always is assured, you will like this book.  If you don’t, well, then, don’t bother—unless you want to be well-read and brag to your friends that you’ve read “One of The Greatest Classics of All Time”, you arrogant shrew.

What's Next?

Truthfully, I’ve read The Woman in White twice now, straining to gather a deeper meaning to present to you, and I still cannot garner anything worthwhile.  I couldn’t even muster together a witty quiz to salvage it all.  Hopefully, my next book, The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger will fare better in my estimation.  Don’t worry, Dear Reader, I’ve already read it.  And I promise you, my next review will not be filled with complaints.  Sorry, no preview for this one.  Rumors of film adaptations of this book have been circulated for years and years, but so far, none have come into fruition.

#96: The Good Soldier Svejk

If I had to explain The Good Soldier Svejk in one sentence, I couldn't do it. It's dark comedy (in fact, a comic strip at one point).  It's political, and it's tragic.  It's historical fiction that spotlights a slice of military relations during the first World War.  If irony and comedy and horror combined, The Good Soldier Svejk would surely be the offspring.

Even the main character, Josef Svejk (last name pronounced "Shvayk") cannot be pinned by a single representation. At times, he appears as a hopeless idiot while at other times, he proves himself to be completely intelligent and adept.  From what I've read, this book is as confused and unfinished as its writer, Jaroslav Hasek, who went from being a scholar to a bum to an anarchist to a writer to a soldier to a communist and back to an anarchist and writer.

How, then, can such a book make it on the list of the best 100 novels of all time?  O ho, my friends, only a person who has not read it would ask such a question!  It's popular because it's powerful.  The Good Soldier Svejk was almost unknown during the writer's lifetime (he died before finishing it).  Unsurprisingly, many did not take kindly to the fact that Jaroslav Hasek was quick to poke fun at the horrors for which they had all so recently endured.  Furthermore, the imbecilic character of Svejk did little to promote the esteem of the Czech countrymen, but even worse was his representation of the Austrio-Hungarian military. 

It would be like if someone wrote a funny story about the incompetent U.S. forces in Iraq and Afghanistan and made the common soldier look like he was one step away from institutionalization.  We can laugh now, but I wonder if die-hard Czech patriots aren't still cursing the name of Jaroslav Hasek!

Jaroslav Hasek took a blight on his country's history and he exploited it for all its possibilities.  He wasn't afraid of controversy, and because of it, he lived much of his lifetime in drunkenness, shame, and poverty.  Ah, well.  Such is the sacrifice for good literature, right friends?

What I Loved...
was the comedy.  Svejk possesses a bumbling curiosity and proudly declares himself a half-wit.  The fact that he is in the army at all is apt to induce humor.  He is a likable dude, and his storytelling skills are exemplary.  But there are times when he is amazingly clever.  The police become desperate to trap Svejk into committing treason.  Since Svejk is a dog trader in civilian life, they try to make friends with him and buy his dogs.

      The St. Bernard was a mixture of mongrel poodle and a common street cur; the fox-terrier had the ears of a dachshund and was the size of a butcher's dog, with bandy legs as though it had suffered from rickets.  The head of the Leonberger recalled the hairy muzzle of a stable pinscher.  It had a stubbed tail, was the height of a dachshund and had bare hindquarters like the famous naked American dogs.
     Later detective Kalous came to buy a dog and returned with a wildly staring monster which was reminiscent of a spotted hyena with the mane of a collie...

And then, things just seem to work themselves out for Svejk:

     And that was the end of the famous detective Bretschneider.  When he had seven monsters of this kind in his flat, he shut himself up with them in the back room and starved them so long that they finally gobbled him up.

Svejk and his cronies are hilarious. There is so much humor worthy of showing you here that all I can say is that you have to read the book.  Sadly, another aspect of the book that I can only talk about and not fully portray are the pictures!  Didn't I mention that The Good Soldier Svejk was turned into a comic strip?  Due to Czech copyright laws, I can't show any of the pictures here even if I critique them, so all I can do is repeat:  you have to get the book.

And I think we all know how much I love history!  I gobbled up every page that profiled the trials of the Austrio-Hungarian military during World War I...and I sometimes got a good chuckle out of it, which is rare for historical fiction.  Like when the soldiers are given a motivational speech, Svejk makes his assessment:

     "Won't it be marvelous when, like the chaplain said, the day draws to its close, the sun with its golden beams sets behind the mountains, and on the battlefields are heard, as he told us, the last breath of the dying, the death-rattle of the fallen horses, the groans of the wounded and wailing of the population, as their cottages burn over their heads."

I don't know how to react to that.  Should I laugh or cry?  I think it depends on whether or not you see the glass as half-empty or half-full.

What I Hated...
was the drunken rambling.  My copy of The Good Soldier Svejk is 800 pages long.  I'm estimating that a good 15% of it is nonsense--and that is a conservative figure.  While entertaining, there are times when the writer's vices (Hasek was an alcoholic) show itself clearly on these pages.  Frankly, we could trim this book back by quite a bit and not lose a shred of significance.  Here is just one example of a character who is clearly as drunk as the writer:

     "It doesn't burn," he said despondently, when he had used up a whole box of matches.  "You're blowing it."
     But at that moment he lost the thread again and started to laugh: "This is a lark.  We're alone in the tram, aren't we, my dear colleague?"  He began to rummage in his pockets.
     "I've lost my ticket," he shouted.  "Stop, I must find my ticket!"
     He waved his hand resignedly:  "All right, let's go on..."
     He then began to wander:  "In the vast majority of cases...Yes, all right...In all cases...You're quite wrong...Second floor?...That's just an excuse...It's not my concern, but yours, my dear madam...Bill, please...I had a black coffee!"

And it goes on like this for six pages.  From what I can discern, there are no purposes for these moments except that the writer was wasted off his butt, thought he was hilarious, and wanted to fill pages.

But the worst part about this book is that it is unfinished.  Jaroslav Hasek was an interesting character who lived hard.  He possessed an inherent hatred for authority and alternated between being respectable and being repugnant.  He was a lawless drunk who, for much of his life, was forced to live under the radar and among the homeless.  He didn't necessarily take care of his health.  So, it happens that the writer dies and The Good Soldier Svejk ends abruptly before Svejk's battalion even makes it to the battlefront.  What would we have seen there, I wonder.  What piece of history will never be shown because the writer did not live long enough?

What's Next?

Wilkie Collins' The Woman in White.  I know next to nothing about this book except that it supposedly started the whole genre of mystery fiction.  Just think, Sherlock Holmes may have never existed had it not been for this book.  Let's get a preview and check out the trailer:

#97: Dracula

I want to be Dracula...on one condition.  Yeah, I don't want to turn evil and drink people's blood.  But who wouldn't want to fly, see in the dark, turn into a mist or bring on lightning, direct animals, mind read, slip through cracks in doors, and wield the strength of 20 men?  This guy is almost a super hero!

But seriously, Dracula terrifies me.  When I was a kid, I was certain that Dracula planned to creep into my room while I slept alone in my bed.  To ward him off, I could not rest unless I had a blanket covering my throat--even on the hottest of nights.  It isn't that I thought a flimsy ol' blanket would stop Dracula, but I knew he would have to move it out of the way to expose my neck, and I would wake up and have a chance to defend myself.  How I would fight him, once awake, did not ever seem to enter my mind.

Take the Can You Defeat Dracula? Quiz.

There's just something about sleep that can be so terrifying (especially to a young, imaginative child).  In sleep, we lie amongst our universe completely comatose and unaware to all the evil that may hide in the shadows and surprise us at any moment.  I wonder how many cases of somniphobia Bram Stoker's creation has induced since Dracula was first published in 1897.

Sadly, people began losing sleep long before Dracula ever entered the scene.  The idea of vampires didn't originate with Bram Stoker.  The legends and folklore of the nasferatu were passed around before time was even recorded, most notably in Eastern Europe.  Consequently, it provides the perfect backdrop for Castle Dracula.

What I Loved...
was the gore!  Nothing is more disgusting to me than open, gushing veins, twisted and splintered limbs, unraveled intestines, or severed spinal cords.  I am shivering just to write the very words!  So, why do I love to torture myself by reading Jonathan's assessment of Count Dracula after a meal?

There lay the Count, but looking as if his youth had been half restored. For the white hair and moustache were changed to dark iron-grey. The cheeks were fuller, and the white skin seemed ruby-red underneath. The mouth was redder than ever, for on the lips were gouts of fresh blood, which trickled from the corners of the mouth and ran down over the chin and neck. Even the deep, burning eyes seemed set amongst swollen flesh, for the lids and pouches underneath were bloated. It seemed as if the whole awful creature were simply gorged with blood. He lay like a filthy leech, exhausted with his repletion.

Doesn't that make you want to throw up?  But also, don't you just want to read more?  Of course you do, and Bram Stoker will not disappoint you.  You are sure to feel nauseous several times while reading this book, and yet, I can't get enough!  I have no explanation for my sick fascination and love affair with horror fiction, but chances are, you love it just as much as I do, or Dracula wouldn't be so popular today.

I also loved Van Helsing's speeches.  He wasn't always the most straightforward fellow, but you've got to admire the means by which he makes his point.

‘My friend John, when the corn is grown, even before it has ripened, while the milk of its mother earth is in him, and the sunshine has not yet begun to paint him with his gold, the husbandman he pull the ear and rub him between his rough hands, and blow away the green chaff, and say to you, ‘Look! He’s good corn, he will make a good crop when the time comes.’

Dr. John Seward spends a good portion of the book in confusion because Van Helsing speaks by way of  quaint, little riddles.  Some trouble may have been prevented had he been clearer.  But how does one tell another of something they know to be true, but of which they know their friend will not believe?  Bram Stoker may have uncovered the true motivation for the metaphor!

What I Hated...
was the ending! (Beware: If you haven't read it, or seen the movie, or realized that Dracula dies, I am posting the ending, and I don't want you to cry that I am giving it away, so stop reading now!)


As I looked, the eyes saw the sinking sun, and the look of hate in them turned to triumph.
But, on the instant, came the sweep and flash of Jonathan’s great knife. I shrieked as I saw it shear through the throat. Whilst at the same moment Mr. Morris’s bowie knife plunged into the heart. It was like a miracle, but before our very eyes, and almost in the drawing of a breath, the whole body crumbled into dust and passed from our sight. I shall be glad as long as I live that even in that moment of final dissolution, there was in the face a look of peace, such as I never could have imagined might have rested there.

Yeah, that's it.  No last struggle.  No flowery description.  No dying scream or threatening words to drag them all to Hell with him.  They simply find Count Dracula in his box, stab him, and he turns to dust.  Superhuman Dracula's reign was brought down in 2.3 seconds.  It is too disappointing on so many levels!  It's like when you find out your favorite athlete has been taking steroids.  It's like Popeye before he chugs a can of spinach!  It would have been much more exciting if the sun had set, and they had been forced to hunt down Dracula at the height of his power.  Had things turned out differently, I may have been reading  this book much later in the year when I will get to the very, very best on the top 100 list!

See if you can kill Dracula so easily in the Can You Defeat Dracula? Quiz!

What's Next?
It turns out that the Czechs are pretty protective of their books, and you can't find an ebook of the The Good Soldier Svejk anywhere.  Oh, thank you, Amazon, for your easy access to bookstores throughout the world for I now hold in my grubby hands an excellent-condition hardcover.  It isn't loaded with pictures, but the pictures it has give it the appearance of a comic book.  I'm excited for some light, Czechoslovakian military humor, circa 1923.  I couldn't get through Dracula fast enough!  

Get a sneak peak and watch a trailer for The Good Soldier Shweik!