A while back I read the thoughts of some authors who were talking about what the reader "owes" the author. The consensus was that a reader is free to dislike a particular aspect of a book providing he gives clear, literary reasons for his criticism. Otherwise, they said, the reader should keep quiet. Maybe I'm in a bad mood but I have a strong urge to argue this point. I think if I pay for a book, at that point it's the author who owes me - either a good story or good information, depending on what I've paid for. I don't think I owe him a favorable review or a "literary" explanation for an unfavorable one. I do think giving reasons for our criticism makes for more interesting reviews and can open up good discussion, but I don't think I owe it to anyone.
All this stuff I've been reading lately has left me feeling a bit disenchanted with blogging, Goodreads and all the rest, and I don't really know what approach to take in this new year. I find myself second guessing everything I say about a book so as not to offend anyone. I'm not being sarcastic when I say that. I honestly don't have any desire to be offensive or to hurt anyone's feelings. On the other hand, I don't see any point in writing a blog that stamps "Yes!" on every book. Would anything be more boring?
So here I am and I don't know where I want to go from here. Is this just a slump or has Ordinary Reader run its course? Should I make changes? I'm doing a couple of things differently. I'm not as anal about posting on every single book I read anymore, I've found nothing at all happens if I skip one now and then, and I let myself get away with shorter posts now and don't waste time trying to think of things to say just to make them an acceptable length. Isn't it sad that I used to?
Blah, blah, blah. I'm tired of listening to myself talk about this as, I'm sure, are you. For now I'll take it one book at a time and see what happens.
The actual subject of this post is "Papua, New Guinea", the second novel in the "Notes From A Spinning Planet" series by Melody Carlson. Carlson is not my up of tea but my Book Club chose this, so I read it. To be honest, I didn't like it much. I did enjoy learning a bit about life in New Guinea; some history or geography in a book goes a long way toward making it interesting for me. What I didn't like about the book was it's formulaic Christianity, the making a big deal out of the obvious, the cliches, the attempt to disguise preaching as dialogue and the unrealistic view of life as a journalist. It's too sweet and too pretty, and the author tells us too much, not crediting the reader with any grasp of the obvious at all. I realize there's not much positive in that, but there you have it. Hope no one is offended...
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