My library copy of 419 came in on Monday night, which means I dropped pretty much everything else to take in the final title on the Giller shortlist. And there went my plans to invest time this week on something insightful for this week’s musings…. With all five shortlisted books now in hand, though, I figure I’m entitled to hijack this spot with my Giller prediction.
Since I don’t have a review posted for 419, and because it’s going to take me a few days to frame my response, I’ll give the extremely short version: With the exception of one side story, it felt like a clunker. 419is the one book in this year’s selection that will have me throwing my shoes at the TV should it be announced as the winner. That said, I’ve certainly heard the same opinion voiced about books that I enjoyed from this year’s shortlist. I’m sure there will be some colorful invective from certain quarters no matter who ends up winning.
I find with most awards there tends to be one entry that stands above the rest on a personal level, yet you instinctively feel that it won’t be able to withstand the politics involved in declaring a winner. Ru was by far my favourite book of the five, but I’m well aware that it would be a bold choice by the jury. Despite that, it remains my personal winner for this year.
So which book do I think will take home the Giller? I’m predicting Alix Ohlin’s Inside. Using the crass political calculus of popular appeal, it seems to check off all the necessary boxes. It would also make for a great feel-good story after the almost offensive review it received from the New York Times. And in strictly literary terms, I personally think it has enough substance to merit this year’s Giller.
There it is, then. Alix Ohlin for Inside. Be sure to catch the announcement next Tuesday, and feel free to come back here to either applaud my foresight or point fingers and laugh.
We’re only two days into a new year, and I already feel hopelessly behind on so many fronts. My kids should never have given me the LEGO Lord of the Rings video game for Christmas. I’m simply too immature to resist that sort of temptation…
I’m in the midst of catching up on everything else as I write this first post of 2013, so my intended “year in review” post is going to be a whirlwind. I began The Indiscriminate Critic on September 5th of 2012, and it’s been quite the positive experience for me. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I started the blog. With 55 posts under my belt now and hits from 40 different countries, I’m still not sure what I expect. It’s very much a journey for me, and one that has been worth every moment. I can’t wait to see what 2013 will bring!
Looking back over 2012, there were certainly some big highlights for me. Top among these were the three author interviews. Each of these authors was so kind and patient, and I’m very proud of the finished product.
Coming a very close second was my introduction to some fantastic self-published/indie material. I’ve tended in the past to avoid this material, but through random and sporadic blog connections I was introduced to some wonderfully engaging (and personally inspiring) material. Matt Bone’s Endless was one of my most memorable reads of 2012, and I’m hoping to have a review up soon for the equally good but radically different Ascension Point by Dan Harris. I also consider myself incredibly fortunate to have stumbled across Chris Hernandez’s Proof of Our Resolve, which will probably be in the back of my mind every time I hear about Afghanistan. I wouldn’t have even heard of these books apart from connections on this blog, and my world is a richer place for the discovery.
I was also excited to receive my first Advance Reader Copy by request (Three Graves Full). In some strange and indefinable way, that represented to me a transition between playing at blogging and joining the ranks of bloggers. It was certainly a nice feeling, and a great way to finish the year.
Looking forward to 2013, my top goal is to get in at least five more literary-minded graphic novels to round out my experimental foray into that format. Craig Thompson’s Blankets is currently sitting on my bedside table, and Santa was thoughtful enough to bring me Chris Ware’s Building Stories. And, of course, I’m planning on plenty more reviews of print and audio books. To those following my reviews and engaging in comments, you have my immense gratitude for making this blog project a worthwhile endeavour. My wishes for all the best in the new year!
The Wall Street Journal recently published this article suggesting that the glory days of the e-reader may already be over. Considering that dedicated reading devices have only recently become an accepted reality among many in the literary world, that seems like a pretty bold statement. But I think the Journal’s take on the issue highlights some major reasons why the “print vs e-book” discussion won’t be going away any time soon.
The reason posited for the demise of the e-reader is that consumers are migrating to tablet computers, which allow for a host of other applications apart from reading. There’s no argument on that from a business perspective, but it reinforces some worries that have been nagging at me over the past year. Take that as a rant warning, and consider yourself duly warned…
E-readers were supposed to be a cheaper and more environmentally friendly alternative to printed books. A one-time expenditure would theoretically provide years of low-cost reading. But what began as an admirable goal quickly got lost in quarterly profits. The whole environmentally friendly argument sort of goes out the window when market success depends on users upgrading their e-reader on a regular basis. There’s no way that you can continue to make an argument against recyclable paper and renewable forestry resources when consumers are now expected to chew through rare earth metals and toxic elements at an unconscionable rate.
And cheaper? Don’t even get me started. In addition to dropping $100+ per year to keep up with the trendiest device upgrades, consumers have no choice but to accept an agency pricing model where publishers set book prices and prohibit retailer discounting. When I bought my e-reader in 2010, books were consistently cheaper when purchased electronically. Now it’s not uncommon to see the print version selling at a lower price because the brick-and-mortar retailers are allowed to offer discounts. What’s particularly galling to me is seeing a $5 paperback selling for almost $20 as an e-book. Can somebody please explain where the “cheaper” part of this sales pitch comes into play?
I’m curious to see where things go from here, especially if the markets are indeed souring on e-reader devices as a viable revenue stream. I appreciate having a device that isn’t backlit like my work computer, and that doesn’t disturb my reading with temptations of social media and other time-wasters. But let’s be clear: I’m in it for the books, and not just to have the latest reading gadget. If the future of e-readers is dependent on device upgrades, the Wall Street Journal might just be right in predicting their demise.
On a personal level, I’m starting to sour on much of the e-reading experience myself. I’ve already increased my library borrowing over the past six months or so, largely because of my flat refusal to buy agency-priced books. Once minor inconveniences—like the inability to loan e-books to friends, or the sheer aggravation of following footnotes—now seem like burrowing ticks. I was initially happy with my decision to migrate to an e-reader.
One of the big stories in today’s news involves an issue that I have been loosely following for some time: a possible conspiracy by the big publishers to drive e-book prices above Amazon’s desired selling point of $9.99. All of the publishers involved have already reached settlements, but Apple—the alleged instigator of the affair—insisted on bringing the suit to trial. Today, a US judge has ruled against Apple in the matter (Apple is, of course, appealing). Here are some quick links from around the world:The New York Times, Reuters, The Guardian, BBC and CBC.
Yet despite all of these settlements and the ongoing lawsuits, I have yet to see any evidence of practical change. Perhaps that is because I live in Canada, and all of the current legal wrangling is happening down in the States. Or maybe it’s because everything is moving at the glacial pace typically in evidence when large corporations are forced to admit to wrongdoing. In any event, it’s still cheaper for me to pick up a hardcover of the latest bestseller from my local retailer than it is for me to buy the e-book. That’s just plain wrong, but with this latest verdict I’m at least mildly optimistic that we could see a corrective effect in the next few years. Fingers crossed…
A few weeks ago, this article about Wikipedia’s classification of American novelists appeared on the New York Times website. The writer, Amanda Filipacchi, is herself an American novelist. She was rightly shocked to find that Wikipedia was in process of moving all female authors to a separate list titled Amercian Women Novelists, while leaving the all-male list still titled American Novelists. I recently took a peek at Canadian Novelists to see if that page was affected as well. Sure enough, Margaret Atwood—one of Canada’s most venerated literary icons—does not appear on that list. She’s been moved to the land of Canadian Women Novelists. Crazy, right?
Shortly after the NYT article stirred the pot, James Gleik posted this piece on the New York Review of Books Blog, which digs into the how and why beneath the hooplah. It’s actually a pretty interesting read if you’re at all curious about the inner workings of Wikipedia, but the crux of the issue rests on the intent of classification. It seems that some editors at Wikipedia are creating categories—of gender, race, culture, orientation, etc.—with the aspirational intent of highlighting areas of “cultural and sociological interest,” while other editors are just compulsively populating these categories because they are obsessed with classification and organization. Thankfully, Wikipedia is taking this fairly seriously, and if you visit the site for American Women Novelists you will see that the page has been red-flagged for discussion (or hopefully you’ll be reading this far enough down the road that it won’t be flagged anymore!).
What remains after the storm, though, is the reality that female authors are frequently treated as “other”. Judging by Wikipedia’s initial gaffe and their subsequent reactions, that perception is still pervasive. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place, and there shouldn’t be a need for discussion; it should be blindingly obvious.
As Filipacchi said in her NYT article, “It’s probably small, easily fixable things like this that make it harder and slower for women to gain equality in the literary world.” I think that’s an accurate statement, and one that probably deserves a more active response from the reading public.
The winner of this year’s Giller Prize will be announced tonight, and I don’t want to let the moment slip by with committing at least some of my thoughts to paper. I’ve actually read all five of the shortlisted books, along with a handful from the longlist as well, but life has been busy enough that I haven’t had the chance to write up my reviews yet. In fact, I’ve probably got 15 or so backlogged reviews, which tends to feel a little suffocating. But enough of my whining…
This year’s shortlist was a bit of a disappointment for me. Both Going Home Again and The Crooked Maidnever really got off the ground in my opinion. There were some high points and memorable vignettes, but the final payoff in both novels seemed watery and insubstantial to me. Cataract City and Caught had fantastic and meaningful stories, but they both failed to impress me. For some reason, I was constantly jostled out of my reading groove. Often it was ideas that didn’t jibe with my reality (who uses Cataract City as a slang term for Niagara Falls, or smuggles marijuana into BC?). There was plenty to appreciate in both novels, but I obviously wasn’t on the same wavelength as the authors.
The one book that really grabbed my attention, though, is the book which seems to be garnering the most middling reviews from readers. Hellgoing, Lynn Coady’s latest collection of short stories, might well be the first collection I’ve read where every single story resonated with me. It’s definitely the book I’ll be rooting for tonight, but, considering my track record for the past few years, my preference likely signals the kiss of death – the final nail in the coffin, so to speak. In fact, my favourite book from the longlist, Joseph Boyden’s The Orenda, didn’t even make it into the running. Assuming that last year’s pick of 419 is some indication of what the Giller committee is looking for in a winner, then my hands-down pick for the winner is Dennis Bock’s Going Home Again.
The ceremonies will air tonight on CBC at 9:00 EST, but the taped delay should mean that the winner will be all over the Twitterverse before the broadcast even begins. If you’ve read any of the books from this year’s shortlist, I’d love to hear your thoughts!