Because they’re notes. 
My reading continues to be haphazard as anything these days. Still all fiction, although the pile of “books received” is getting higher, and I really do need to get to those.
So, quickly:
Highly praised by many, including Stephen King, was Case Histories by Kate Atkinson. A mystery concerning three separate incidents – a missing child, a murdered husband and a murdered adult daughter – occuring at various points over the past 30 years, which intertwine in the present. The set up was better, as it often is, than the resolution, with the resolution of the missing child story truly lame and off the reservation. As is so often the case with highly-touted mysteries, I end up experiencing far less than I’m promised.
Okay, next was a comic novel about contemporary office life, Then We Came to the End by Joshua Ferris.  Again, you can see the total randomness of my reading habits in my selection – I saw it in the Barnes and Noble in Newport a couple of weeks ago, filed the title in my head because I thought the first paragraph was great, and it was, naturally, festooned with festive blurbs.
It’s about an advertising shop in Chicago, which, when we enter the story, is flourishing, but then falls victim to the dot com bust and other problems. It was mildly amusing at times, knowing at others, and a paradoxical combination of overwritten and shallow at other times. Or perhaps those two elements are not so paradoxical, really. There were many characters, sort of covering the spectrum of office drones and drudges, but most ran on caricature fumes, unfortunately, and some were difficult to tell apart. I wouldn’t say it was a waste – it entertained me for a couple of evenings – but no real depth or consistent, engaging humor. But I did like that first paragraph:

We were fractious and overpaid. Our mornings lacked promise. At least those of us who smoked had something to look forward to at ten-fifteen. Most of us liked most everyone, a few of us hated specific individuals, one or two people loved everyone and everything. Those who loved everyone were unanimously reviled.

Oh, man. I have never worked in that type of office, but I have been a part of school faculties, and much of that dynamic holds absolutely true. That made me laugh out loud. But unfortunately, that was at the fifth sentence of the book, and the experience was not frequently repeated, although I will say that the coda, so to speak – the end at which the workers reunite under interesting circumstances – verged on moving. But didn’t verge too close.
The other thing I liked about this book was the narrative point of view, which was first person plural. You can see that in the passage above. It didn’t come across as affected, in my view – it worked very well to rather naturally convey the experience of that weird organism called The Office. (not that office. Well maybe. Actually, this is closer to Office Space than The Office, US version.)
It recalled another unusual point of view in one of my favorite books of the last few years, a book that not many people read and one that got mixed reviews, Hungry Ghost by Ken Kachtick. It’s the story of a Buddhist photographer who falls for a Catholic girl, a bit playful, but I thought dead-on about many things. Some reviewers thought the female character was idealized, but those are people who don’t believe that a brainy, committed Catholic woman could exist – it seemed to me that she was probably based on someone Katchick knew.
Now, the thing about this book, something that threatened to turn me off at the first page was that it is written in second person. Oh, how cute. Almost as bad as the present tense, which I have grown to despise. But then I kept reading and I think I understood – the protagonist is a Buddhist guy, albeit a very bad, contemporary, almost faux kind of Buddhist, and of course, what is the goal of Buddhism? Detachment. What an interesting way to communicate the notion that a character is struggling for detachment – to have him tell his story in second person, pointing to “you” rather than “I.” It worked. At least I thought it did. Or did you?
Well, anyway, the “we” in Ferris’ book worked too, although as a whole, it could have used editing, a deeper sense of character, and just a little more heart.
Finally, since time wasn’t permitting a library trip earlier this week, I plucked Paradise News off the shelf and re-read that, enjoying it very much, although Lodge’s theological meanderings are overdone in this one. It’s a fine line, between writing a character who is an intellectual and will naturally talk that way, and using a character as a mouthpiece. I don’t think Lodge quite walked the line properly in this one, but the rest of it I found hugely enjoyable, again – although it cured me of any desire I might have had (not that I had any) to every visit Hawaii….
Of course, all of this is just about biding my time until September 25, my personal version of Harry Potter Day.
Ack. And I still haven’t discussed The Road. Okay. Tomorrow….
Okay, one more. I haven’t done much on children’s books lately because honestly, we’ve not picked out too many gems. My library time with children has been rushed because if we don’t have the stroller (which we haven’t had the last couple of times), Michael the Toddler just…runs. And must be chased. So there’s no time for me to ponder selections – I end up pulling books off the shelf, seeing if the text is too wordy or not, making sure the book isn’t a special story in which Joey learns that despite his differences, he is accepted, and trying to ascertain if there’s some wit. And I’ve always, at that point, misplaced my list that I’ve compiled just about this time of night from children’s lit review blogs and so on.
But this one, amazingly simple, was a huge hit, and, unlike most titles these days, was demanded for a reread a couple of nights in a row:
Not a Box in which a rabbit argues with the owner of an unseen voice about why he is sitting in, standing on, shooting water at, wearing…that box. It’s not a box! insists the rabbit. I agree with the NYTimes reviewer that the finale lacks a certain punch, but the little boys here found its simple illustrations and imaginative rabbit hugely entertaining.