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Tag Archives: final thoughts

an apology to Kurt Vonnegut

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I always thought you were like Anthony Burgess, or Ray Bradbury, of that sort of philosophically-orientated storytelling like Sartre’s The Age of Reason or Burrough’s Naked Lunch where you’re more concerned with the message and the meaning rather than the portrayal of humans being human and doing human things, but you’re not. You’re not, because you write beautiful things like, “We […] saw what the past had been like, according to the Ford Motor Car Company and Walt Disney, saw what the future would be like, according to General Motors. 

And I asked myself about the present: how wide it was, how deep it was, and how much was mine to keep.

(Yes, I just finished reading Slaughterhouse-Five. It’s so good. It’s like Zusak’s The Book Thief, written in the 60s.)

final thoughts: The Fault in Our Stars, by John Green

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I’ve been busy, lately, and I haven’t updated in a long time. I’m going to acknowledge this and apologise. And now let’s move on.

So I read The Fault in Our Stars. (side note: I’m having trouble deciding which words are meant to start with a capital and which aren’t; is it ‘the Fault in our Stars’, ‘The Fault in our Stars’, or ‘The Fault in Our Stars’?) It’s pretty good. I normally don’t really read books which are easy to read, so this was different. Normally I kind of suck it up, saying ‘it’ll get better, it’ll get better’ until the 99th page where I’ll decide whether or not to keep reading. This was different. This was like, 15 pages in, and then there were kids living with cancer and support groups and cutesy teen-romance things going on. Also, it’s kind of funny to imagine John Green’s voice in my head sighing over a 17 year old guy with dreamy muscles or whatever.

In summary, this book was so easy to read it made me feel bad for reading it. But, you know, in the end this book is about dying and the things people leave behind and that’s the kind of stuff that people start to think about whenever they start feeling small.

(also, another side note: what is a g-tube? how is Augustus getting his meds through it? is he getting chemo through a g-tube? how is that possible? i didn’t think chemo drugs could be crushed!)

final thoughts: game of thrones

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So I finished reading what’s been published of the A Song of Ice and Fire book series, and I’m really impressed. The fantasy genre is really challenging, in my opinion, for authors, because it’s so hard to separate what is, effectively, imagination from the person who is imagining. I read a lot, and widely, but I’m always looking for a good fantasy story. What stops most fantasy I read from being good is the fact that, eventually, the presence of the author becomes so overt that it distracts me. I feel manipulated, and I feel that, in fact, the author has no control over the story. Which is not to say that this is always bad; many novels and authors I admire do this intentionally. The line between the author, the narrator, and the protagonist has always been blurred from the first fictions.

(Image via Bantam Books)

I feel that George R. R. Martin is a really effective writer in that he doesn’t ever break the fourth wall. There is no anachronism. His cover had me entirely convinced. I don’t know who the protagonist is, the narrator changes each chapter, and I never notice the presence of the author. It’s pretty great. I get sucked in. I really like these books, and I would buy them in paperback, just so I could hug them instead of my eReader (which I hug anyways).