I have been taking long, rambling walks around LA for the last few days, trying to kill time when I am not involved in festival stuff, and today I wound up in a Borders, reading.
The first book I picked up to examine was called "Jekyll Loves Hyde." Having earlier watched "Fight Club" on Bravo, I was honestly hoping this would be some kind of psychological thriller with disturbing sexual undertones, kind of like the aforementioned movie for the Twilight crowd. This was not the case, "Jekyll" and "Hyde" were the surnames of the main characters, who were certainly not the same person. I was disappointed, put it down, and resorted to reading Elizabeth Hopkins's verse novel "Burned."
After five-hundred pages of an increasingly silly and miserable protagonist living in an increasingly crapsack world, I wondered how she would resolve the story in the last fifteen pages. Let me just say I find it incredibly lazy when authors use car accidents as a way of negating their entire plots. Be it kidney donation or trying to run away from home, a car accident is just a lazy way to resolve your plot. This is certainly /almost/ as lazy as having the whole thing be a dream. Because, really, why did I just spend the last two hours reading your shitty 500-page brick of a novel for you to negate the whole plot with a conveniently placed inferno. It's an anti-climax. It's an un-resolution. It's absolutely unsatisfying.
Of course it did kill the time well enough.
No comments:
Post a Comment