I've finished two books recently, that I haven't reviewed for you. I've been slacking, sorry. I avoided the first one because I didn't really have much to say about it, and now that I've finished another book that I also don't have much to say about, I figured I'd lump them into one short-ish post.
I don't really recommend either of them. Just putting that out there. You can stop reading now if you like.
The first is I'm the King of the Castle by Susan Hill.
While it's about little kids, I'm pretty sure it's not meant to be a kids book. Edmund Hooper, a little boy with mommy issues moves into his grandfather's house with his widower father. The father employs a woman and her son (who is the same age as Edmund and has daddy issues) to stay and take care of the house, and be a companion for himself and a friend for his son.
Of course the boys hate each other, and thus begins a war between them while the parents remain blissfully ignorant and think the boys are best friends.
It reminded me a lot of that movie, The Good Son, except both these boys are Macaulay Culkin's character, so you can imagine how it ends. The end was really the only part that made me sit up and pay attention, just because I didn't think she'd actually go through with it.
The second book is The Cheese Monkeys by Chip Kidd.
I was warned about this book. My friend Erin said "the set up is good; the second half is terrible."
I mostly agree.
It's narrated by a boy who is in his freshman year as an art major at state university, who knows nothing about art because he really didn't want to go to college, so art was the easiest, least like work major that he could come up with. He meets Himillsy Dodd and the two of them set off judging and critiquing art in their own way.
Think about how stuffy and pretentious people can be about art. Now take that to the other extreme, and that's these two. Except they're so extreme in their making fun of art that they're annoying.
The book reminded me too much of The Catcher in the Rye, which is why I didn't like it. These characters, like Holden Caulfield, spend the whole time judging the other "phonies" when they, like Holden, are the phoniest of all.
I just kept hearing his voice in my head the whole time I was reading and we all know how much I loathe Holden Caulfield.
So there you have it. Next on my shelf to read is Gene Wilder's My French Whore.
I adore Gene Wilder. Review when it's finished. Stay tuned.