kurtwombat's reviews
880 reviews

 Ah, beginnings. This first Agatha Christie novel feels more like a sketch than a painting—it’s an Agatha Christie novel but not everything is there yet. Some of the writing is a little forced, the characters are thin or extreme, and there is a lot of magical hand waving to try and distract from an overly complicated plot. Then there’s Hastings—the outsider, reader stand-in and human misdirection machine—who becomes quite tiresome. How can Hastings hold Poirot in the highest esteem when the novel begins but immediately doubt everything he says—almost before he says it. However, meeting Hercule Poirot is worth the bother of the rest of the novel. Indefatigable and charming, Poirot is a delight and gives this novel the breath it needs—opening the windows on this stuffy house of a mystery. 

 

I’ve watched Anthony Bourdain’s food/travel show on and off for years, enjoying his long cool languid demeanor and hip, inquisitive voice. What provokes is the sense that there is a vigorously lived life idling beneath the surface. In KITCHEN CONFIDENTIAL a younger than TV age Bourdain provides a florid splash of his adrenaline-fueled life as a chef. The pace is fast like his kitchens and is at turns shocking and hilarious--feeling like Jim Carroll’s BASKETBALL DIARIES meets Upton Sinclair’s THE JUNGLE delivered by Spalding Gray on speed. Because of his sad passing I had stayed clear of his shows and hesitated picking up this book. Enraptured, my concerns fell away as I realized every page celebrates his life and passion.  The book will teach you about different foods and may encourage you to learn more but you don’t have to care about food at all to enjoy KITCHEN CONFIDENTIAL.  Able to pinpoint the childhood meal that ignited his interest in food, soup served cold, that love never wavers despite page after page working insane hours under grueling conditions in crazy environments for little pay. Does that sound like fun, probably not, but it certainly is.

 

I almost put this down after the first paragraph. Something very….squishy about the way the author describes the mysterious power of her face to draw stories from people. Unsettling. And then continues to throw that face on the page throughout the book. When I was able to forget her face there was some interesting stuff here with the potential for a great book. Unfortunately, this isn’t it. The interweaving of a University sexual assault scandal investigation with unraveling a personal childhood of sexual abuse is a rich narrative opportunity that is presented here with mixed results. There were portions where it hummed—the investigation was compelling and the unpacking of the author’s  dysfunctional family dynamics came into focus.  Too often the paralysis of the main character—because of frustration with the investigation and the unwillingness of her family to acknowledge her paint--traps the narrative in amber. She can’t move—we can’t move. The analysis of her feelings seems to be happening in real time instead of from a thoughtful distance—real time meaning the jumbled, confused state we live in when first going through something.  It’s important that these topics be explored so I was really rooting for this book. NPR spoke well of it. But despite the opportunities for growth along the way, it all seems to happen smack dab at the end as if she were told—we’ve reached our page limit—time to wrap it up.  And that led to a car crash of thoughts  at the end—two different drafts of the same page seemed to follow each other—and an I LANDED ON MY FEET ending that seemed out of nowhere. Wasted opportunity. 

I have had four color-themed Travis McGee books sitting on my shelves for years—all old paperbacks acquired from disparate used book locations. John D. MacDonald has long had the reputation as a template for generations of mystery writers—his fans famously including Stephen King & Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.. So, 60 years after it’s publication and my birth, I finally delved into my first Travis McGee novel. And I liked it. Lean and fast with sharply drawn characters and a satisfying mystery, MacDonald’s often beautiful descriptions pepper the prose—leaving an almost cinematic impression after reading. Famously a denizen of Florida,  this story has McGee out of his element in the southwest—unfortunate for my first choice to read. Curious if I will appreciate this more or less after reading about him on his own turf. As with my own hands, the book has some age spots—the writing reflects the stereotypes of its era but that is ingrained in any work—you have to create space for that. I will be reading more.

 

Having just finished GOING CLEAR the marvelous and lacerating  history of Scientology, I wanted even more Scientology and fell into this. Familiar with Remini’s brassy image—wasn’t sure how that would translate into a narrative. Anticipated a few interesting anecdotes—maybe trying too hard to be funny (or worse, this is too serious to be funny about)  and half expected not to finish it. Pleasantly surprised. Open hearted look at her family dynamics and how they folded into Scientology, I was drawn in immediately to her neighborhood and family. Genuinely funny and self-effacing in ways that enhance the story rather than diffuse or distract from the reality of what’s going on.  Nice companion to GOING CLEAR (which I would recommend reading first) TROUBLEMAKER brings personal detail to the big picture. It’s a given when you start the book that she will leave Scientology—reinforced when she starts dishing the dirt—but there is still drama in what will be the final straw. There is also frustration. Just like in reading GOING CLEAR, it is maddening that in the face of mounting insanity people still cling to Scientology. What ends up being the last straw, the hill she decides to die on—is much less personal than many previous issues but it was just time. Would have loved her to expand on each of these points where they drew her back in. Part of the charm of the book is that it moves briskly but a few more pauses would have helped. Also, the very entertaining fire from the hip brusque narration in time made me start to worry about how close she was sticking to the facts. I don’t doubt anything specific she’s saying, but at least for me there is sometimes an odd disconnect between bravado and sincerity.  Overall, though, an entertaining desert to the multicourse meal that was GOING CLEAR. 

Fascinating look at the religion/cult/pyramid scheme/self-help system/human trafficker that is Scientology. One of the more interesting aspects for me is that I went into it expecting to snidely deride it’s claim as a religion but instead lowered my view of western religions enough to meet Scientology’s standards.  They only sought that status for tax reasons—and I am certainly not saying they shouldn’t pay taxes. I am saying many churches should pay taxes.  There has to be some threshold at which taxes are due. Mega-churches forfeit their sanctity when that much unregulated money rolls in. That modest tirade aside, how could you not love a story about a habitually lying, paranoid schizophrenic, racist, homophobic, wife beating, philandering sci fi writer creating a religion that condones slavery of its membership. That the “slaves” are mostly only bound by the chains of idolatry doesn’t excuse their bondage. Richly detailed from hundreds of interviews with past and present members, this well-structured narrative manages to steadily march through the history of founder L Ron Hubbard and dazzle the whole way.  And when L Ron finally meets his Howard Hughes-esque end, when you thought Scientology might go into decline without it’s leader—a prone to sudden violence sociopath emerges named David Miscavige making Hubbard’s approach seem almost reasonable or quaint by comparison. This transition also moves Scientology from a distant 60’s / 70’s curio to a more immediate and real threat. As the pile of destroyed lives mounts so does the tension and I found many of these stories concerning and stressful. Just a taste—David Miscavige’s wife has been a “willing” prisoner in presumed poverty for over 17 years and has not been seen in public since being briefly allowed to appear at her father’s funeral. Meanwhile, Scientology’s current leader lives an opulent life including acknowledged dalliances. It’s good to be king.

 

(Even after finishing this, I wanted more about Scientology, so I immediately rolled into Leah Remini’s TROUBLEMAKER about her life in and final departure from Scientology * * * *)

Started out pretty good with a few strong poems but kind of devolved into a grocery list of ideas that never made a meal.