Les Livres

Inherit the Wind: This was one of my favorites from this list. Like David, I thought reading a play (and one not by Shakespeare) was a refreshing change. The issue raised was a thought-provoking one to start off with, but the execution was brilliant. The main characters were complex and remarkably human; each of them had their own distinctive personalities. Some of my favorites were Drummond, Hornbeck, and oddly enough, Rachel. The fact that all the characterization was done almost purely through dialogue is pretty amazing. I particularly liked that the two main characters weren’t written off as one-dimensional, as they could have easily been—Drummond was not a bible-hating monster, and even Brady wasn’t represented as a true villain, especially not according to Drummond’s reflection at the end. Despite being such a short work, it managed to make some pretty powerful and memorable arguments.

A Midsummer’s Night Dream: My feelings toward this play are vague. I almost don’t remember reading it. I mean, I do—I could tell you about the plot and characters and even some of the themes Shakespeare addresses. But it didn’t seem all that memorable—which if you think about, I guess makes sense with the play’s dreamlike, hazy mood. The four lovers were absurdly funny and so were the fairies, but all their problems were solved so predictably. It was an interesting read (and a fun listen, with the Jamaican voice actors) because it was so different, since it incorporated the roles of magic and dreams, as well as the idea that it’s almost human nature to complicate and make things a bigger deal than they are. I think I would enjoy seeing it performed better, what with the costumes and Nick Bottom’s transformation. Also, I really wish I hadn’t been drinking water when I read Sam’s post. I don’t agree that we needn’t read Shakespeare at all, but it seemed like I was missing a lot of the jokes in this particular play—they felt sort of lost-in-translation.

First They Killed My Father: At first, I was a little taken a back at the style Loung Ung tells the story in. I’d expected some sort of childlike stream of consciousness voice, but I suppose that would’ve made the novel even harder to read, and perhaps even to write. At parts in the novel, the narrator sounds distant despite the writing being in the present tense. It made me wonder about how difficult it must have been for Loung Ung to delve into her memories and return to the horror of the Khmer Rouge’s reign, which is maybe accounts for the writing style. What interests me the most about history is how it affected regular people, so reading this memoir really reinforced how genocide and even just war and violence can tear people’s lives apart.

My Antonia: I liked the idea that the introduction brought up, that Antonia was so pivotal in Jim’s life that he seemed to be forever nostalgic over her. I thought her story was an inspiring one because she had to face a ridiculous amount of hardship, and yet managed to make a life for herself. I liked that the ending wasn’t perfect; Antonia’s troubles don’t magically vanish. I appreciated Cather’s honesty with that and how each of the “hired girls” manages to find some sort of success. As an immigrant of sorts myself, I was interested in how the novel represented some of the original immigrants and pioneers. Cather managed to create this moving portrait of a pioneer woman—and I think she succeeded. Antonia isn’t really flawed, but this is Jim’s account so it works. Her language and description of the people is beautiful; it suited the book very well. That being said, Cather did drag on with the description is some parts. Red grass, anyone?

The Catcher in the Rye: I think everyone has books that “speak” to them, and, well, this is one of mine. I first read Catcher a couple of years ago, and reading it this year, I was struck again by how distinctly Salinger managed to capture Holden’s voice. I can’t imagine this novel with a third person narrator and still having the effect it did. I felt like Holden was right there, telling his story, which made his memories and sort of downward spiral into loneliness and depression even more poignant. Sure, Holden has some maddening qualities, but I see a lot of myself in him. I like the way that Salinger addressed, through the opinionated Holden, the issues of growing up and hypocrisy and phoniness—things I’ve wondered about a lot. The ending is rather vague, and like Megan, I wish we found out definitely what happened to Holden. But it fits, since Holden made it quite clear in the beginning what he was going to talk about. I like to think things got better.