Room by Emma Donoghue

I read this book, from cover to cover, in one day, about four to six hours.  Plotline and characters were well established in the 40+ page first chapter, “Presents”.

I read all of those words. 

I sped-read the second chapter, another 40+ pages titled, “Unlying”.  That clarified the subplots and outcomes to dominate the rest of the book, which I then scanned at light-speed, confirming that, only what was predictable made it to the printed page.

btw: I assume that this was a screen play, which some editor convinced the author to expand into a novel. 

There was a lot of stretching on this expansion project like extraneous spacing and blank pages.  Of course the biggest holdover from the screenplay was the preponderance of dialogue over protagonist narration.  Of course it’s hard to do thoughtful narration coming from a young 5-year-old.  The author did an exemplary job with this 5-year-old voice for the book.

However, while plaudits are in order for a great textbook example of well-developed control over the narrator’s voice, the book had insufficient merit, for me, to read with the thoroughness required such that:

1)  My belief in the story was not suspended to the point where I could empathize, or even care about the characters.

2)  My world view was not enhanced.

3)  I didn’t find the Book entertaining; actually it was a bit exploitive and sick.

I think it’s a good book to recommend to my shrink friends, who might relish the deep personality nuances explored in a book that takes place in a single room with a back-story that has gone on for seven years.

Unfortunately, the book will mostly be popular with reader’s who are also riveted with headlines like, “more playground shootings: film at 10.!!”  Many will be unable to resist the loveable naiveté of a five year-old, undamaged by our reality world; and be unable not to totally sympathize with a successful mother protecting her child under the most heinous circumstances.

A real tear-jerker – the movie will be much better than the book:

Because:

n  We can achieve instant hatred for the mean, ugly villain, and instant respect for the beleaguered, beautiful mom.

n  The big screen won’t give us claustrophobic anxiety about the Room – the boy will look small and the mom will look normal.

n  There’ll be more balance between world/room-views – much more focus on adult interactions rather than toddler’s thought processes.

Something to Remember You By by Gene Wilder

 

This is a delightful story.  He’s not a professional writer, so there are many things “wrong” with the short story.  But it’s short, and a nice story, and he’s Gene Wilder, so it’s worth the read.

I’m putting it back in the library today.  It’s a “new” book, so it will go back on to the new shelf.

 

The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao

 

Thank GOD we are back to normal.!!!

Not that this was a hateful book,!! Especially not if one is an ex-DR-patriot, living in America because no where/no one else in this world would have you: and you had a story that might only be interesting to a few dozen Cabral family members; but otherwise, mind-numbingly boring to 99% of the “normal” book-reading population.

btw: I assume the overlaid picture to the left was Ybón: any agreements or objections? 

 

The anger in this book is palpable, acceptable for someone dumped into a ghetto across the Hudson River from the greatest City in the World: into the darkness of places such as Passaic, Elizabeth, and Jersey City. Who wouldn’t be angry.  This was the armpit of America. Welcome.!!

I almost bought into this “American Dream” when recruited to “emigrate” from England at a point where I had fully matriculated into English-nish.  “We” (I) had picked out a house in Parsippany, then the whole family visited to see our workplace as well, Morristown.  GOD intervened, by providing an over-night ice-storm, which shattered the wind-screen of our rental car and rattled me away from the New Jersey home comforts.  I share Díaz’s discomfort.

This is more Yunior’s story, with Oscar as comic/dramatic relief.  Yunior should have got a job with a local waste disposal company in Jersey City.  Why aren’t the Italians hiring the DRs anyway?  Their patois would match up perfectly.

We’ve had local foreign language before, in plenty of book club selections: we never like it!  Being foreign, by definition, means we don’t understand it, and are forced to learn it, just to understand the book’s premise.  It’s arcane to learn so much about Patterson, New Jersey DR argot.  This is the first book, and on a library recommendation list (!), that has so much PC-unacceptable language and down-right filth, as a key-part of the story.

O.K., Why did Dias write the book?

He wanted to move up from Jersey City to NYC.  Who wouldn’t?  And he did!

Those white, wine-swilling, elitist Barnard/Bryn Mawr book editor snobs ate him up like that season’s latest look in plaid jumpers or poodle pup lapdogs.  They, an hour north of Mecca, picked out an unwashed; an hour south of same, and displayed him for the winter 2008 season.  Junot (Yunior) enjoyed the seasoning from the blanca puerca and got his flat in the Bronx.

“Hey, Bro, K-no?”