The Bad Beginning (A Series of Unfortunate Events #1)
Notes on the audio version: Tim Curry was a fine narrator, even if I was unable to forget for one second that it was Tim Curry. After the end of the book was an obviously pre-scripted “interview” with the author. It was cleverly written and would have been very funny had the readers not been so terribly stilted and awkward. I suspect Daniel Handler played himself, which made me thankful he hadn’t narrated the story. As insincere as it would be to have actors play Handler and the interviewer, it would have been a much more enjoyable listen.
Also posted on BookCrossing.
by Cornelia Funke (unabridged audiobook read by 
. In other words, I absolutely loved it. It’s the sort of thing I would enjoy reading again and again, just to relive the adventure.
by Liza Palmer: Maggie and Olivia were the two fat girls in school, best friends that shared the bond of being misfits. Fast forward a few years: the girls are still (sort of) best friends, but Olivia had gastric bypass surgery and is now a size two and about to be married to a handsome and wealthy man, while Maggie is still the same size, single, and working at a coffee shop despite having a master’s degree. I remember being Maggie not that long ago: negatively self-absorbed, helplessly inarticulate around attractive men, and walked on by my so-called best friend. Though her inner monologue was very funny in places, she would have been a much less compelling character had I not recognized myself in so many of her flaws. This story says a lot about toxic relationships, family bonds, and inner beauty, but most importantly about self-confidence. I enjoyed watching Maggie’s journey, and I look forward to picking up Palmer’s other novels.
by Kenneth Underhill: Jack Stabbish is a salesman who realized one day that he could make money without actually selling anything. He “works” for four companies at a time, riding on charisma alone and quitting before anyone notices he hasn’t actually done anything. At the start of our tale, one of Jack’s former employers is looking into legal action against him, another is facing a major meltdown due to Jack’s neglect, and his bank is looking askance at his four weekly paychecks. The story deals largely with the impact of Jack’s (in)actions on an assortment of reasonably believable characters, with all subplots tying together in the end. (Well, save the one about Janice. That one didn’t serve any purpose.) Jack is a bit of an anti-hero, beloved by all but generally self-centered and conniving. I spent much of the book hoping he’d get his comeuppance, but I didn’t feel any real animosity toward him, and in the end he came off as more genuine than I’d expected. The ending, though somewhat anti-climatic, was surprisingly satisfying. Usually I don’t appreciate that sort of technique for finishing a story, but it worked in this instance. The writing was decently down-to-earth except during the sex scenes, when awkward and flowery metaphors sprouted all over the page as soon as the clothes came off. It amused me. All in all, a good first novel. I’ll be curious to see what Underhill does next – whether he continues to draw on his experiences as a salesman or branches out to something completely different.
by Ayn Rand: Dystopia stories fascinate me because they say so much more about the social issues of the author’s own era than the future. Here we have a collectivist society, where the good of the many outweighs the desires of the one. Our hero is a street sweeper, so designated because when it was his turn for a job, what was needed most was another street sweeper. He dreams of being a scholar, but is shot down for thinking himself better than others by rising above his station. When this was written in the late 1930s, collectivism was a popular idea, though in its extreme eventually contributed to the rise of fanatical nationalist groups such as the Nazi party. This particular story is not an especially memorable tale, since it is just about a misfit in a repressed society who eventually escapes, sees the light, finds the truth, etc. Hurray for individualism. Sometimes I wonder if Rand’s vision of a dystopian future is so popularly maligned because she preached not just cultural individualism, but economic individualism as well. This book in particular emphasizes the importance of every man working in his own interest rather than for the nebulously-defined public good, though she tends to gloss over the drudgery of factory work and those jobs that don’t provide a living wage. Sadly, not everyone has the option of doing the job he wants, or even the job that might serve as a stepping stone to the job he wants. If they did, the world would have a whole lot more artists and a whole lot fewer waiters.
by Anita Diamant: I started this one on the heels of another Diamant novel, 
by Dan Brown, figuring I should be familiar with it before the 
by Anita Diamant: Dogtown was a real place in early Massachusetts, reaching its peak population around the turn of the 19th century. Near the end, most of the inhabitants were misfits and loners: widows, freedmen, escaped slaves, prostitutes, and supposed witches. This story, detailing the last decade or so of the settlement, is not so much historical fiction as fiction inspired by history. Little is known about the residents of Dogtown, but this tale weaves a beautiful tapestry of birth and death, love and hate, kindness and cruelty. I think my favorite characters were Cornelius and Easter, and though I was disappointed in the tale of Sammy, it was a reaction to his decisions in life, not the writing style. All the characters felt real, like old friends. The time period fascinated me too, giving me a real sense for how ordinary people lived without weighing it down with famous historical events or people. This book was my introduction to the much-heralded Diamant, and I was not disappointed. Good Harbor is already on the TBR pile; I’ll have to keep an eye out for The Red Tent.
by Tove Jansson: The Moomins usually hibernate for half the year, but one day Moomintroll wakes up to discover a snow-covered world he’s never known. Being a longtime Moomin fan, I was predisposed to enjoy this book. The characters and illustrations are simply charming, depicting an innocence without ignorance. It was not my favorite of the Moomin adventures (I’m not sure it could be without Snufkin), but it was still a fun little tale. I particularly liked Moominmamma’s comments upon waking. She’s my hero.