Tag Archives: classic

Book Review: The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho

the alchemist coverAbout the book:

Paulo Coelho’s masterpiece tells the mystical story of Santiago, an Andalusian shepherd boy who yearns to travel in search of a worldly treasure. His quest will lead him to riches far different—and far more satisfying—than he ever imagined. Santiago’s journey teaches us about the essential wisdom of listening to our hearts, recognizing opportunity and learning to read the omens strewn along life’s path, and, most importantly, following our dreams.

Review:

I’m not sure I’m seeing what all the hype is about. I mean, it’s a fine little parable, but I wasn’t blown away by anything.

Book Review: The Princess Bride, by William Goldman

the princess bride

As Florin and Guilder teeter on the verge of war, the reluctant Princess Buttercup is devastated by the loss of her true love, kidnapped by a mercenary and his henchman, rescued by a pirate, forced to marry Prince Humperdinck, and rescued once again by the very crew who absconded with her in the first place. In the course of this dazzling adventure, she’ll meet Vizzini—the criminal philosopher who’ll do anything for a bag of gold; Fezzik—the gentle giant; Inigo—the Spaniard whose steel thirsts for revenge; and Count Rugen—the evil mastermind behind it all. Foiling all their plans and jumping into their stories is Westley, Princess Buttercup’s one true love and a very good friend of a very dangerous pirate.

Review:

Even richer than the movie, which was pretty rich. And I adored Inigo and Fezzik. How could you not? But I’m a reader who doesn’t enjoy Historical Fiction as a genre because I can’t always tell what’s the Historical and what’s the Fiction. (Drives me nuts). So, the fact that the author/narrator essentially eradicates the third wall, obscuring where the fiction and the author/narrator’s supposedly real-life commentary split drove me up batty. (Yes, I realize it’s essentially all fiction, but the effect is the same.) What’s more I found it disruptive and not as endearing as I believe I was supposed to. But man, what a story.

Book Review: Master & Commander, by Patrick O’Brian

master and commander cover

As the Royal Navy takes part in the wars against Napoleonic France, young Jack Aubrey receives his first command, the small, old, and slow HMS Sophie. Accompanied by his eccentric new friend, the physician and naturalist Stephen Maturin, Aubrey does battle with the naval hierarchy, with his own tendency to make social blunders, and with the challenges of forging an effective crew — before ultimately taking on enemy ships in a vivid, intricately detailed series of sea battles.

Review:

This is a serious case of not the right reader for the book. The writing is wonderful, and undoubtedly, a ton of research must have gone into it. And if you’re a person who is interested in naval fiction, especially naval fiction of the time, I imagine you will LOVE this book. I am not such a read and as such, I was bored.

The first half of the book is VERY HEAVY in naval/ship/sailing terminology (plus the cant of the time), and I literally read it with a dictionary on hand. This severely compromised my enjoyment of it. And I’ll acknowledge that, as there are 20 books in the series, 200 pages to set up the tone and terminology of the series isn’t unbearable. But as half of a single book, it’s interminable. I likened it to the ~100 pages of whale anatomy in Moby Dick, something you just have to get through to get on with the story.

The second half of the book is far more readable, but it still fell flat for me. I think the problem was that I expected a sprawling sea adventure and instead the story is a series of small everyday adventures of a particular ship and crew. Meaning that there is no single challenge to overcome or adversary to engage or peak in the plot. It’s just one random naval encounter after another. It really wasn’t enough to truly grab me, even if I did like the characters.

I didn’t dislike the book, and I’d probably read another, but it’s one of those books I’m glad to have read but also glad to no longer be reading.