The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt

I was really looking forward to this book. I mean, really looking forward to it. I loved ‘The Secret History’ so I had high hopes for ‘The Goldfinch’ but I’m going to have to add this to my  Never-Finish-Never-Will List.

On the face of it, it has all things that I like:

• It’s a typical slow-burn
• It’s got lots of long detailed prose on the human condition and relationships
• There’s lots of philosophical discussion
• The running theme is the appreciation of beautiful art
• It won the Pulitzer Prize

Basically, it couldn’t get any more pretentious; it’s my kind of book.

But my God it’s boring. I have nothing else to add. There were some long detailed paragraphs on Theodore Decker’s thoughts on how wonderful his mother is, and I always get so emotional over any parental-child relationships but the scenes couldn’t move me. There are occasional sparks of genius, reading Theo describe the people he encounters can be entertaining and resonating but it’s few and far in between.

I’ve stopped and started this book at least five times but I could never get into it. It was just so dull and drawn out. By a fifth of the way in I still don’t know the purpose of the plot. It’s like striking a match that won’t start; you get your hopes up every now and then when you see a spark but eventually you realise you’ve got a dud.

On Another Note

It seems I’m not the only one too:

• Vanity Fair noted the backlash from the fancier literary circle and examined what can be defined as literature.
• Oregan Live basically made the same comments.
• The Guardian basically has the same issues that I have

My issue isn’t as snobby as James Wood’s issue; I think the “further proof of the infantilisation of our literary culture” is too snooty.

The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown

I read this when the book became all the rage years and years ago, but after I finished reading ‘The Lost Symbol’, I ended up skimming through it again just for kicks so this will be a short review.

I really liked it. As in, I really unapologetically liked it. It’s a lot better than ‘The Lost Symbol’ largely due to the fact that all the Dan Brown archetypes are executed well:

• The pacing was faster and the suspenseful cliff-hangers at the end of each chapter don’t feel like sudden, forced brakes in the plot.
• At the end of the story, the Secret Society isn’t exposed in its entirety by the actions of one man and there’s still sufficient mystery to at least justify the longevity and authority of the Society.
• The dark secret that governs the family’s behaviour and history has real weight to it and isn’t eye-roll inducing.
• All the cryptic clues were very clever, especially the second last one.
• The Hindering Law Enforcement Figure didn’t feel contrived and had real motives of his own. I particularly liked that Fache was intensely Catholic, it was a nice touch.
• The Female Love Interest is also described to be a healthy, robust brunette, just like in ‘The Lost Symbol’ so Dan Brown obviously has a type. But Sophie and Robert are much more balanced in intelligence and competency so the Female Love Interest feels less like a Damsel in Distress.
• Whether it’s actually historically accurate or just pandering to conspiracy theories is a whole separate can of worms but you can’t deny that any discussion on Jesus is not a fascinating topic choice. The continual discussion over whether the Holy Grail should be exposed is nice and balanced.

So help me, Dan Brown may be my guilty pleasure. It’s all good fun. Nothing is threatening or intellectually stimulating, and all the Robert Langdon books are the same, and that’s the appeal. At least you can’t accuse him of inconsistency.

 

On Another Note

The casting was done so well for this movie. Tom Hanks, Audrey Tatou, Ian McKellan, Paul Bettany was A+ casting and perfect for each of the characters. Pity the film was so forgettable.

 

I also love Dan Brown’s unashamed descriptions on Robert Langdon, I love every single sentence describing Robert Langdon because Dan Brown describes him like this:

The past year had taken a heavy toll on him, but he didn’t appreciate seeing proof in the mirror. His usually sharp blue eyes looked hazy and drawn tonight. A dark stubble was shrouding his strong jaw and dimpled chin. Around his temples, the grey highlights were advancing, making their way deeper into his thicket of coarse black hair. Although his female colleagues insisted the grey only accentuated his bookish appeal, Langdon knew better.

Then there’s this little scene where the hostess introduced him in a lecture by reading about what was written about him in magazine:

‘Although Professor Langdon might not be considered hunk-handsome like some of our younger awardees, this forty-something academic has more than his share of scholarly allure. His captivating presence is punctuated by an unusually low, baritone speaking voice, which his female students describe as “chocolate for the ears”.’

The hall erupted in laughter.

Langdon forced an awkward smile. He knew what came next – some ridiculous line about ‘Harrison Ford in Harris tweed’ – and because this evening he had figured it was finally safe again to wear his Harris tweed and Burberry turtleneck, he began to take action.

To remind everyone, Dan Brown looks like this:

There’s also this amazing section from Wikipedia:

I can’t get enough of it. I’m actually tossing up if I should buy ‘Inferno’ and ‘Angels and Demons’ just so I can read more descriptions of Robert Langdon.

 

Crazy Rich Asians by Kevin Kwan

I didn’t finish reading this so I’ve been umm-ing and ahh-ing over critiquing it. Overall, I appreciate that it’s Chinese-centric without it going on and on about the suffering immigrants and culture clashes in a Western New World but it isn’t my type of novel.

It’s the standard fish-out-of-water scenario. Rachel Chu, a working-class and highly educated American is taken to her uber-rich and highly educated boyfriend’s family home in Singapore. It’s also standard chick-lit. Several hijinks occur that lead to romantic misunderstanding but all is well in the end. I read about a third in and then skipped to the end but I still got the general gist of it: Scandals, crazy spending, lover’s spat, backstabbing, attempted boyfriend stealing, gossiping, more scandals. For all the drama, I lost interest pretty quickly.

Nevertheless, it’s been described as an outrageous satire and shot to prominence so quickly that a sequel has already been pumped out and there are talks of a producing a movie because nothing says success in Hollywood like a movie adaptation. But the one criticism that this book can’t seem to shake off and it’s Nicholas Young continually underestimating his family wealth. I know some people don’t like the fact that Nicholas never tells Rachel about how crazy rich his family is, but if we all start bitching and moaning about this plot hole, it defeats the whole purpose of the novel.

And there was only one purpose to this novel: To show off just how rich the Chinese can be in the most ostentatious, conspicuous, and self-centred manner possible and the character Rachel is a merely a tool used to show this off, and if Kevin Kwan states otherwise, he is a fucking liar.

The prose is so heavy with long, detailed descriptions of all the expensive, luxuriant things that the blue-blooded Chinese families buy. Kwan can’t go for two paragraphs without some sort of description or action designed to highlight, in a satirical manner, how insanely wealthy, and out of touch everyone is. At first it was amusing, the opening scene ends with a woman buying out a hotel because the concierge was condescending to her but it became overwhelming because it was just too much and too ridiculous.

The other defining aspect of this novel is that it is really, really Chinese but like the spending habits of the Young family, Kwan overdid the portrayals though I appreciate what he was trying to do. This was written by someone who lives and breathes being Chinese and all the little intricacies and social rules that come with being Chinese, whether they’re Mainland Chinese, Hong Kong Chinese, or even an ABC. There are also helpful footnotes clarifying Chinese phrases and customs. But like the Young family’s spending habits, it’s too much, I felt like I was trying to navigate a family gathering.

Times have changed and the Chinese are now a wealthy and educated group of people, no matter where you go so it’s nice to see a different piece of work come out that isn’t in the style of ‘The Joy Luck Club’ or ‘Mao’s Last Dancer’. I’m so tired of reading about how sad and suffering immigrants are because we’re in the 21^st century. But it’s a pity that I could only take the writing in small doses. Reading this book is like eating a decadent cake, it’s rich and creamy but a few bites in was enough to make me sick.