When the mood takes me, and it takes me increasingly often, I love diving into the tawdry, the naughty, the dirty, the sultry, the lusty, the sexy, thWhen the mood takes me, and it takes me increasingly often, I love diving into the tawdry, the naughty, the dirty, the sultry, the lusty, the sexy, the intimate, the loving, the erotic. And recently I find myself turning to the erotica of GK Grayson.
There is a refreshing kindness to most of Grayson's work that is too often lost in erotica, particularly erotica involving bisexuality. Too often I find humiliation and cruelty is the order of the plot, but Grayson (perhaps his name is a clue as to his perspective?), especially here in His Cuckold Craving makes kindness and love the heart of his tale. It's refreshing, and it also arouses the hell out of me. If you enjoy the erotic and you appreciate respect in your smutty books, Grayson could very well be the author for you. ...more
Edith Can Shoot Things and Hit Themis one of those stories that can get right under your skin. A. Rey Pamatmat creates a perfect pace in his tale: froEdith Can Shoot Things and Hit Themis one of those stories that can get right under your skin. A. Rey Pamatmat creates a perfect pace in his tale: from the flow of the realistic dialogue to the length and balance of scenes to the weight given to the two acts, Edith Can Shoot Things ... slips away before your eyes know what’s happened -- and that is when it’s being read on the page.
There is so much to recommend this play, so much to make me want to see it, but the genuine love it conveys is what I most want to see captured onstage. Pamatmat’s three characters -- Edith, Kenny, and Benji -- love each other in profound ways, and I found myself wanting everything to work out for them, knowing full well that even if things worked out in the play, they would someday fall apart when the events of the play came to a close and the cruelty of the world overwhelmed them. Yet Edith Can Shoot Things ... conveys hope and joy. I don’t know how, but it does.
It also contains one of the most genuine romantic relationships I have read. Kenny and Benji are a pair of playful, flirtatious, sexual, supportive, brave 16 year olds. Loving each other. Really loving each other. Being in love with each other. And making that love okay for each other. It is rare to see something like that, and rarer still to see a gay teenage relationship offered up as the safe haven from drama rather than as the root of drama. Pamatmat is a magician.
I set aside Edith Can Shoot Things ... with one sad thought. A fear really. I fear that where I live, in the Canadian Prairies, is too conservative, even in my socialist city oasis, to offer this beautiful play on our stages, so I may never get to see it performed. Like I said, a sadness....more
This week I was lucky enough to read She Kills Monsters, then to see it on stage with my son in multiple roles. There are few better ways to engage wiThis week I was lucky enough to read She Kills Monsters, then to see it on stage with my son in multiple roles. There are few better ways to engage with a play than the double joy of reading + watching.
Now She Kills Monsters wasn’t the best play on the page. I couldn’t help feeling that Qui Nguyen’s work needed another round or two of work shopping along with a solid edit from a skilled D&D Dungeon Master actually familiar with 2nd Edition, yet even so, there is much to be admired about Nguyen's play, even in its slightly roughened state. The conceit of sharing oneself with a loved one through a D&D module (subbing in for a journal) was unique and emotionally satisfying, and the way the play lustily embraced LGBTQ+ issues was pretty exciting. So even if my son hadn't been in the show, I'd have been keen to watch She Kills Monsters, especially to see how a theatre company would tackle the D&D elements.
But the written play wasn't without its problems. There were some cringe worthy moments, which included a false rape allegation (played off as a joke), some fairly silly dick and fart jokes, and some strong sexism towards straight white boys. More annoying to geeks like myself was the claim -- embedded in the opening narration -- that She Kills Monsters was about the 2nd edition of D&D, but that was patently false. It was much more inspired by LARPing and video games than by AD&D the 2nd, and little or no care was taken with accuracy. It wouldn't have taken much to fix these issues, and I am fairly sure D&D accuracy wouldn't have diminished Nguyen's tale. But this latter complaint reveals one of the benefits of pre-reading a play you're about to watch onstage ... I knew about the D&D anachronisms ahead of time, so I was able to avoid being pulled out of the magic the actors were weaving, thus the written issues were mitigated onstage.
And onstage, the things that were good about She Kills Monsters were definitely heightened by the performances. The revelation about a friend of Tilly's who has cerebral palsy was deftly handled, the dance battle against the Succubi was energetic and inspired, the coming of the Gelatinous Cube (played by my son!) was exactly what I wanted it to be, and the end of the play was absolutely satisfying.
All told the staging was funny, kooky, and entertaining. But I think it really could have been even better if the necessary work had been put in on the page. Oh well. My son and his friends were a blast, and I am guessing any staging of She Kills Monsters is worth watching if you know someone in the cast. But you'll like it even better if you borrow their script and give it a read ahead of time ;)...more
I just finished my smoke. Time to clean up the mess. ;)
In all serious, though, Yes, Roya was something of a revelation. I feel like I have been wWhew!
I just finished my smoke. Time to clean up the mess. ;)
In all serious, though, Yes, Roya was something of a revelation. I feel like I have been waiting my whole life for this story. It is the erotica I have been craving; it is everything I desire in real life, everything I have experienced in a piece here and a piece there but never as a whole; it is arousing, loving, brave, sexy, caring, submissive & dominant, defiant; it makes me proud to be bisexual, actually. And that is quite an affirming thing....more
I walk away from Three Plastic Rooms feeling (and this isn't the first time a book has made me feel this way) like an unwelcome interloper. This book I walk away from Three Plastic Rooms feeling (and this isn't the first time a book has made me feel this way) like an unwelcome interloper. This book wasn't for me. It's not that I didn't appreciate the book, nor is it that it didn't speak to me, but it is a more literal recognition that Petra Hůlová didn't intend me to be her audience. This book wasn't written for me.
Yes I have Czech ancestry and Hůlová is a Czech writer, but my experience with Czech culture is all superficial. I have dreams of returning to my ancestral roots, but those dreams are a long, far way off. I've never lived there, never visited, and have no first had experience with Czech culture; Hůlová was definitely writing for Czechs. But she was also writing for Czech women (I imagine) and I am not a Czech woman, but a Canadian man. And while I am friendly to and with sex workers, I am not a sex worker and Hůlová was certainly writing with them in mind too. I am also not a linguist, though I enjoy dabbling in linguistics from time to time, and I don't have nearly enough linguistic skill to fully appreciate -- especially in an English translation of Czech writing -- the play Hůlová was engaging in with her words (despite translator Alex Zucker's helpful afterword); moreover, I get a sense that much of what Hůlová was doing was rooted in the works of Hélène Cixous, meaning that Hůlová was also writing for a specific flavour of feminist, a spicier flavour than my vanilla-femanism.
I feel a little like I stumbled into a room where folks I'd only just met were having really messy sex, and instead of backing out and quietly closing the door, I pulled up a chair at the end of the bed and tried to figure out what each toy was for, how to perform each position, and who was going to clean up the mess they were making afterwords.
Yet for all that I can't help admitting that Three Plastic Rooms was a fascinating and rewarding, albeit uncomfortable, read. It makes me wish I could read Czech. I think then I would have a better grip on how welcome I would be as a reader of Hůlová's work....more
Sometime between 2021 and 2025 I am going to stage All's Well That Ends Well in my town; I am planninI have a plan, and I am going to make it happen.
Sometime between 2021 and 2025 I am going to stage All's Well That Ends Well in my town; I am planning on 16 performances. In my staging, the two main actors, those who play Count Bertram and Helena will learn both parts and play 8 performances as Shakespeare's intended gender, then play 8 performances gender flipped.
Each performance will have a Q&A, which it will require mental health professionals and/or academics and/or those with experience who can speak to the plot and what it says and does, and how that plot alters and changes based on the gender of the roles, and what that says and suggests about the audiences watching.
Wish me luck. It could be a triumph or a gigantic mess. Regardless, I think it is an important way to stage this play, and I am old enough now that any fall out will merely destroy my life in theatre. But I am willing to give that a go. So no biggie. ...more
There once was a fine group of people in a fine country house with a fine glass pavilion -- a crystal palace of sorts -- and this fine group of peopleThere once was a fine group of people in a fine country house with a fine glass pavilion -- a crystal palace of sorts -- and this fine group of people was made up of fine folks from the upper class: lords who were diplomats to Genghis Khan (not the murderous thug but a region); fine folks from the middle class: a merchant, his wife and their children (albehim a merchant of underwear, making them sort of fruit of the loon-type folk); and these fine folk had gathered together to debate some fine issues and ideas, and to discuss some fine ideas and issues, and to use these fine ideas and issues to flirt and to fight. But wait! that's not all because a Goggled Man (a pilot of the flimsiest sort of biplane) and his passenger, a Polish, acrobatic dominatrix, crash in the garden outside that fine sort of crystal palace just before a lower middle class (white collared clerk, don't you know) anarchist comes in guns at the ready to fight for the honour of his dead mother (who doesn't need his anarchism or her honour). And along with this fine group of people were those fine issues and ideas that they would discuss and debate, and fight and flirt over: everything from that "vulgar" socialism to the independence of women, from anarchy to the dependence of moneyed boys, from class struggle to the ridiculousness of the wedding state -- and all would be well versed and poorly versed and opinionated and clever and foolish and playful and funny and somehow lovable. And all would be the people of Bernard Shaw's glorious imagination. And all would make my son's and my COVID isolation that much less painful. Bravo, Bernard!...more
There is no way my words will express anything close to my admiration for Lacy M. Johnson's The Other Side. Nothing I write can be adequate. This memoThere is no way my words will express anything close to my admiration for Lacy M. Johnson's The Other Side. Nothing I write can be adequate. This memoir is the bravest memoir I have ever read.
Read it yourself if you want to know Lacy's story, but I will tell you this: The Other Side is not exactly what you will be expecting.
Johnson is, as far as I can tell (and I am confident you will see this too), the most honest memoirist in the history of memoirs. She fearlessly challenges her own memory of events (or ... possibly ... fearfully; hence her bravery), yet the discrepancies she finds in the way her story is remembered by everyone touched by her story and recorded by everyone who has recorded her story (herself included, on both counts) does nothing to diminish or undercut her memory -- instead, the discrepancies bulwark her memory, making her reality all the more potent. It is an astounding act of honesty and courage.
And that would be enough to make The Other Side a required work of literature, but it is more. What she has done is more.
Johnson reveals what true crime should really be about -- the victim -- and effectively shames all the true crime that fetishizes the criminal. Johnson reveals the ongoing and inescapable damage done to victims of violence. Johnson unflinchingly describes the violence done to her, then unflinchingly describes how she can't help but pass some of this damage on, then unflinchingly describes the woman she is and how the violence done to her cannot dim her need for eroticism, love, community, living poetry.
And then there is that which pushes The Other Side even deeper into the realm of true literature: Johnson is a poet. A poet is what she truly is, and much of her memoir is strikingly poetic, to a point that if has the power to unnerve its readers its sensuality (in its appeal to the senses).
Then there is power. That is what I am left with now that Johnson's voice (she narrates her memoir herself) is a whispery ghost in my ears. The power taken away from people. The power regained. The power to heal. The power of words. The power of one's self.
Usually I would say you should read a book that's this powerful, but I think you should listen to The Other Side. When you hear Lacy M. Johnson's voice, you will know why. ...more
I found my reaction to L.A. Theatreworks' production of P.J. Barry's Bad Axe to be a scattered, jumbled mess. So here goes:
didn’t like it 1. The RacisI found my reaction to L.A. Theatreworks' production of P.J. Barry's Bad Axe to be a scattered, jumbled mess. So here goes:
didn’t like it 1. The Racism. There is no way around it, Bad Axe is seriously fucking racist. Indigenous Americans are at the "heart" of this tale, yet there isn't a single role in the cast for an Indigenous actor. There are four important Indigenous characters talked about throughout the dialogue, yet not one of those four characters is manifested on stage. Zero roles for Indigenous people. Why does that matter? Well, Indigenous people are used as an excuse for all manner of White violence, and unironically so. They become the target of retribution. Their war practices are put forth as blatant evils, as sicknesses that infect White folk, which implies the usual White superiority of the Western genre, all while muting any potential response from a people who are being thoroughly wronged from curtain to curtain.
2. Revenge. I'm just sick to death of revenge as a literary or cinematic motive. Sure there are moments over the years when I have enjoyed a good revenge tale, but I am worn down to a nub by this motivation -- probably because of the events of my actual life and my knowledge that revenge is an epic waste of energy -- and I would be happy to never read another story motivated by revenge as long as I live (that said ... I should re-read The Count of Monte Cristo ... and soon).
it was ok 3. Amy Irving as Mrs. Maryanne ConradBad Axe is Maryanne Conrad's story. Everything revolves around her: the murder of her husband, the tapestry of lies she weaves to gain her freedom, her relationship with Frances Osborne and what it tells us about Mrs. Conrad's once almost-happy family life. It is imperative, then, that the actor performing Mrs. Conrad be good. Amy Irving is good. Just. She provides the necessary stabilizing presence that allows other performances to shine. I can't help wondering, though, if a better than "good" performance would have made it easier to overlook what I didn't like about Bad Axe.
4. Mrs. Frances Osborne's Apple Pie. C'mon. I've tasted better.
liked it 5. The ending. If what happened is what I think happened, the end was no less than what Maryanne deserved.
really liked it 6. Lt. Hugh Romens' muddy ethics. There to question Maryanne about the incident at Bad Axe, Lt. Romens has a job to do, and he does it well. He follows his ethical code -- which is steeped in duty, honour and military justice -- disdains lies (when they are told to him) and is willing to trick the subject of his inquiry in dirty ways if it will move the investigation in the direction he wants it to move. He reveals some complexity that the other characters don't share. Plus, I bet his costume would be the most fun to wear.
it was amazing 7. Harry Hamlin's performance. I have never been a fan of Harry Hamlin. I've always found his bland good looks and bland acting to be ... well ... bland. Like a boiled, unseasoned chicken breast. But his performance -- from what I could hear in this audiobook version of Bad Axe -- was a spicy, Blackened Cajun Salmon. Hamlin's Sgt. Joe Quigley sounded like a hairy old veteran of the post-Civil War USA. I could hear his voice filtering through a bacon grease soaked handlebar moustache; I could hear the cigars and moonshine roughing up his vocal cords; I could hear the smell of his once-a-week bath regimen; I could hear the depth of his old west wisdom in every sarcastic growl; and I loved it all. If Harry Hamlin had become the character actor this performance suggests he was meant to be rather than the bland lead of the blandest lawyer show of the '80s, he'd still be a star today. Perhaps Tarantino should consider casting him for his final movie. I bet that collaboration would be magnificent. ...more
Experimental theatre in the hands of Linda Griffiths -- the void keep her star stuff safe -- was a marvellous thing. She treated me like shit when I sExperimental theatre in the hands of Linda Griffiths -- the void keep her star stuff safe -- was a marvellous thing. She treated me like shit when I served her drinks, but damn if the lady couldn't write and act and direct like the bad ass bitch she was (and I say that in all honour. She was fabulous). If you ever get a chance to see Age of Arousal staged you need to take that chance. It's not easy but its excellent.
WARNING: This review covers a porn memoir by a porn artist, so my review will include crude language. You've been warned.
I am a big fan of smut, a bigWARNING: This review covers a porn memoir by a porn artist, so my review will include crude language. You've been warned.
I am a big fan of smut, a big fan of porn, a big fan of fucking and being fucked, a big fan of erotica, a big fan of many things others might consider dirty or slutty or depraved. I just love sex. So the thought of reading Asa Akira's porn memoir was more than a little titillating.
Too bad the book wasn't as titillating as the thought.
That's not to say that it was without an ability to arouse. There were a couple of times, when Akira gets really into the reasons she loves to fuck, or when she describes her favourite porn scenes or her private sexual life, that she actually gets the blood pumping down to a reader's/listener's genitals (it was particularly nice to hear her own voice in my ears when it came to those moments. She is an excellent reader of her own book. I have to give her credit); unfortunately, those moments are in the minority.
Much of Akira's book is about the rest of her life. Now that wouldn't be a bad thing if I wanted to read her life story, but I was much more interested in her porn life than her shoplifting exploits, and drug exploits, and private school exploits as a hyperprivileged NYC teenager. That section of the book was where I began to sour on the whole Insatiable experience, actually. It was where I struggled to empathize with Akira, where I began to dislike her a little bit (which really makes me hugely sad, since most of the folks in porn I've come in contact with are pretty fantastic).
Akira's narcissism -- a basic requirement for porn work, one would imagine -- was a little too obvious to be a sexy quirk. It led down paths of disdain for others, flirted at times with uncomfortable levels of intolerance (such as her feelings about her bisexual ex ... and as a bi-male I found this difficult to listen to), and revealed a sort of nasty conservatism that made it increasingly difficult to stay on her side.
But then she'd crack out a funny little haiku, or tell a story about how a beet salad turned an anal sex scene into a fearful, seemingly bloody (it wasn't bloody) mess, and suddenly I was enjoying myself again.
Unfortunately, she wasn't able to sustain these moments, and by the end I found myself shrugging with the thought, "Is that all she's got?"
If, however, some of her peers follow her path to writing and recording their own memoirs, that will raise Insatiable in my estimation. And if it inspires other, nicer people from the porn industry to share their experiences then it will have been worth the listen, if only just to have provided a base for future judgment of the genre....more
It is funny, scandalous, wonderfully inclusive, political, powerful, and always relevant. I teach it often, and read itLysistrata is one of my faves.
It is funny, scandalous, wonderfully inclusive, political, powerful, and always relevant. I teach it often, and read it even moreso; I've taken part in staged readings and watched it on-stage, but this is the first time I have listened to a translation of Aristophanes. Listening didn't go well.
The problem is with the narration. Not the narrator herself, though.
The solo voice the publishers hired to deliver every character in the play --Marnye Young -- was quite good. She has excellent variation in her tones, is incredibly adept at changing her voice to play multiple characters convincingly, and has an impressive array of accents at her disposal. Sounds good doesn't it?
Well, the problem is that no matter how strong Young's abilities are, asking one person to voice the entire cast of Lysistrata, including the choruses, is a bit like asking one person to play all eleven positions on a football pitch -- disastrous. It is a struggle throughout the listening to tell characters apart when the lines are being delivered fast and furious. A few extra cast mates would have made all the difference. Truly, I feel bad for Young that she was not given more support and that her exceptional vocal skills were wasted here (although one can't help wondering how flattered she must have been to take on such a challenge on her own).
The worst part, though is that the producers seemed to realize somewhere along the way that forcing Young to do the work on her own was a bad idea because they tried to rectify their error with post-production audio fiddling. They added reverb and layered Young's voice, and generally made a hash of all the strophe and anti-strophe, turning something that should have been melodic and musical into something robotic and droning. It's embarrassing stuff, and -- for me at least -- all the tinkering made this audio nearly unbearable.
It is a great play ruined. Listen at your own peril, my friends. ...more
So I listened to Beyond Shame, and I find myself wanting to apologize to Kit Rocha for listening to her book rather than reading it because my enjoymeSo I listened to Beyond Shame, and I find myself wanting to apologize to Kit Rocha for listening to her book rather than reading it because my enjoyment was completely ruined by the sound of Lucy Malone's voice.
How someone with a voice like Ms. Malone's can have such a successful career as a narrator of smut is beyond me (and that may be the problem, perhaps it is only beyond me and not beyond countless others). To my ears, Malone's voice was anything but sexy; it was nasally, whiny and monotonous. Moreover, her characterizations were as difficult to differentiate as they were to stomach. You can imagine what all of this does to Kit Rocha's erotica ... the result is very far from arousing, although from the words I heard, it should have been.
And this is why I feel compelled to apologize to Kit Rocha. I should have loved this book, but I could barely get through it. Her dystopian near future world, with the gleaming and dysfunctional city of Eden surrounded by the "criminal" sectors and their gangland denizens is a nice start to world building; her penchant for BDSM and group sex is the sort of naughty smut that gets me going (although I would have preferred seeing some Guy on Guy action to go along with the Gal on Gal action); her set up for what's to come actually makes me want to read on (not listen, though), so book one of the Beyond books is really something I should like much more than I do. I am sorry, Ms. Rocha, that it didn't turn out that way, but if you have any influence over Tantor Audio, perhaps you could convince them to find someone better than Lucy Malone to read your stories in the future. You deserve better, I think....more
I wish I had seen Street of Blood rather than reading it -- at least the first time.
Seeing Ronnie Burkett bring his puppets to life and engage the audI wish I had seen Street of Blood rather than reading it -- at least the first time.
Seeing Ronnie Burkett bring his puppets to life and engage the audience with the rage that he poured into Street of Blood would have been a powerful experience. Reading his dialogue without the benefit of his puppetry can't help but detract from the experience. Yet there is so much to admire in Burkett's play all the same.
Burkett conjures a fairly unsavoury gang of characters in Street of Blood, from the old Hollywood Vampires to his protagonists Edna and her son Eden to Jesus himself. They are a pack of malcontents -- all selfish, all angry, all damaged -- yet somehow he makes them likeable. And he actually manages to achieve that on the page, so I imagine, with his puppets up and moving around, Burkett probably makes them downright lovable on stage.
What really matters about Burkett and Street of Blood (and always has) is his commitment to challenging us, to forcing us face concepts or realities or prejudices (etc.) that we simply don't want to face, and to do it in a way and with a form that necessarily disarms us. If you ever have a chance to see Ronnie Burkett perform don't let it pass you by. He is a Canadian treasure, and an important figure in the still very much alive art form of Puppet Theatre. ...more
***WARNING: I feel the need to swear in this review, so if you are not up for a few expletives, please move on. Nothing to see here. If you don't mind***WARNING: I feel the need to swear in this review, so if you are not up for a few expletives, please move on. Nothing to see here. If you don't mind the sweariness, though ... "Willkommen!" ***
Me: So A Man Lies Dreaming is a giant fucking jackboot to the genitals. You: What the hell do you mean by that? Me: Besides the quite literal kicks to the balls and vulvas? You: What? Me: Seriously. This book is a cornucopia of genital punishment. Knives, boots, hands, knees, other genitals! If you can imagine a way one's genitals could be harmed, there is a good chance it is here in this book, but beyond the physical, literal jackboots to the genitals, the book itself is just a big metaphorical jackboot to the reader's genitals. You: Ummm ... Me: But here's the thing, though, it is fucking impressive. The kicking Lavie Tidhar gives us is seriously brave. It's powerful. If you can stomach it, what he's doing turns out to be rather impressive. You: What does he do? Me: The impossible. You (dubiously): Uh huh Me: No. Seriously. He makes a protagonist -- a "pseudo-hero" -- out of the most unlikely historical figure, throws him into a pulpy, detective noir, and doesn't even try to temper this fuckhead's nastiness, but still manages, somehow, to make you care about him. Well, maybe not you, but me. He made me care about him, and that was the biggest jackboot to the genitals of all. You: Who? What historical figure? Me (waving the question off): But he doesn't stop there. He delivers two insanely graphic BDSM sex scenes, and you can practically smell the piss and shit and naughty fluids. And this is all just in the noir part of the story. You: There's more? Me: Fuck yeah. There is a serial killer out killing prostitutes in London, carving an infamous symbol into their chests and killing to express his love for another and a world that never was. There's an assassination plot. There are terror groups. There is a whole literary and cinematic backdrop that feels just like ours but is the slightest touch askew. You: I -- Me: -- But that's not all. There's this other tale, probably the main tale, of the Man Lying Dreaming. And his story, well that's the tragic one, that's the key to this whole thing, and you would love that story, and that story tells us so much about the other stories, and it is the story that makes this whole thing about imagination and about how we have only the most tenuous grasp on reality, in the way we tell ourselves the stories of everything. You: I don't think I could even get to that story. This doesn't sound like the book for me. Me: I think it is a book for everyone. You: Mmm ... No. Not for me. Me: You don't look too happy with me. You: Not really. No. Me: I shouldn't have told you about this, should I? You: No. Probably not. Me: Um ... sorry? You (shaking head): Too late. I think I gotta go. Me (watching you walk away / under breath): You're missing out ......more
My feelings about Forever in an easy list of ten. No particular order,
1. Not only should Forever never appear on a banned book list, it should be reqMy feelings about Forever in an easy list of ten. No particular order,
1. Not only should Forever never appear on a banned book list, it should be required reading in all junior high schools (middle schools) as part of sex ed. More importantly, it should be read and written on by every single boy.
2. And speaking of boys, there is a need for a book about this subject written with all the skill of Judy Bloom but targeted at boys. The boys perspective on first love and losing one's virginity is desperately needed. If it is out there already, please point me in that direction.
3. Katherine, or Kath as she's mostly called, seems a little younger than 18 to me. About three or four years younger. Her actions, her job, her grade, her concerns for her university, they all match her age, but there is something in the way she behaves that just seems too damn young to me.
4. The infantilization of our children and prolonging of childhood is one of the most despicable changes I have witnessed in our society over the course of my life, but reading something like Forever makes me wonder how long the trend has actually been happening.
5. I wish that Blume had told us more about Artie's story. I feel an opportunity was truly missed there.
6. The handling of Sybil (view spoiler)[and her pregnancy (hide spoiler)] is another situation where I craved expansion, but I was pleased and impressed that Sybil was never shamed by the author or our narrator.
7. For a book that I liked so well, I am surprised that I didn't like the main characters, Kath and Michael, very well at all.
8. The honest language, the honest discussions, the actual sex, they made me long for more bravery from authors and publishing companies, and more tolerance and understanding from parents.
9. Relationships end in this book, as relationships are wont to do, and the way they did was realistic and refreshing.
10. So glad I got to read this with my daughter. The discussions have been amazing. ...more
When I finished Roseanna again last night I thought I should write a review talking about how rare it is for me to reread a book, and how Sjöwall & WaWhen I finished Roseanna again last night I thought I should write a review talking about how rare it is for me to reread a book, and how Sjöwall & Wahloo have conjured something exceptional from me as a reader. When I started thinking about how rare it is for me to reread, however, I realized what a load of crap that is.
I reread The Sun Also Rises every year because it is my favourite. I reread China Mieville's books whenever I feel the need to exercise my brain. I reread Iain Banks and his twin brother Iain M. Banks because their writing and vision blow me away. I reread graphic novels like I eat M&Ms. I reread Aubrey Maturin because they feel like old friends. I reread Ursula K. Leguin because she is the best. I reread Dragonlance and Lord of the Rings because I am a geek. Yep, I am a rereader.
So rereading Roseanna isn't so special after all. It isn't some rare occurrence. It's business as usual when I find something worth reading again and again. And this book is that.
I have been listening to these books for my "first reading" and I recently reached the seventh book, The Abominable Man, wherein the interdependence of Sjöwall & Wahloo tales suddenly focused into a clear picture. They wrote ten books in their Martin Beck series, and it struck me that it is one of the only series I've read (apart from Lord of the Rings) where the authors had the entire series mapped out before they started.
I decided to test that theory by actually reading Roseanna (rather than listening), and it appears that I was correct. Beck and Kollberg are fully conceived from the first moment. There is no authorial searching for what these men will be, no feeling out their relationship and personalities. Everything is there. Everything is ready, and everything that is coming for these men (the two constants in the series so far) are there waiting for them. I can see it in their decisions, their emotions, their concerns, their actions -- everything.
I gave this book four stars when I first read it, but loved it enough to pass it on to a good friend (she loved it too). Now I have to give it five stars. I think the series itself constitutes a masterpiece, but as first chapters go, Roseanna is perfection....more
(view spoiler)[Emmanuelle engages in some lovely, erotic sex, and when she does this the book is a wonder. Then Mario comes along with his pansexual p(view spoiler)[Emmanuelle engages in some lovely, erotic sex, and when she does this the book is a wonder. Then Mario comes along with his pansexual proselytization and the active erotica becomes a distant memory while Mario delivers his erotic manifesto. There is a nice return to the erotic, though, with a final mmf threesome that was delectable but too little too late. (hide spoiler)]...more
I am left vacant as a weed covered gravel pad. I've watched the downfall of a friend in a moment that seems heroic on its face but is the birth of hisI am left vacant as a weed covered gravel pad. I've watched the downfall of a friend in a moment that seems heroic on its face but is the birth of his own terrible fate, and there is nothing I can do because my friend is a character on a page. All I can do is wait for his final descent and watch as he falls.
Richard K. Morgan is special. When I read these stories of Ringil, Archeth and Egar, I am captivated in a way I haven't felt since Lord of the Rings in my teens. He's speaking to me now, me and all my cynicism, in a way Tolkien spoke to my simpler idealism and teen imagination. Morgan is the writer of my current moment, and I place A Land Fit for Heroes on par with Lord of the Rings. It is a story that should -- though it probably will not -- take its place amongst the truly great works of fantasy.
And for that, and my sadness, and the fact that I must wait for the final chapter, I will now curl up in a ball and imagine that Morgan isn't trying to tell us something deep & telling about our ugly humanity, that he is just spinning an adventure tale to entertain. But that is a lie, as anyone who has read these books must know. ...more