Sweet Tooth: Story Of a Scandalous Reader

As the conventional wisdom goes, when writers are out of ideas, they write stories about writers. But what about a story about a reader? That's fairly fresh, isn't it? Ian McEwan's new novel Sweet Tooth is, indeed, about a reader — one who happens to work for the British Security Service (MI5).

It's the early '70s, and the Cold War is in full weary swing. MI5 concocts a scheme to "sponsor" writers they think will write novels that illustrate the futility of communism — an operation codenamed Sweet Tooth. It's a tried-and-true method in the "war of ideas," as they've learned from their intelligence counterparts across the pond. Serena Frome, early 20s, gorgeous, lover of books, and new to the service, is tasked with "running" a promising writer named Tom Haley. Her mission is simply to convince him to accept money from a front literary Foundation, and then keep tabs on his progress as a short story writer, journalist, and (it's hoped) novelist.

One problem: She immediately falls in love with him. Even bigger problem: Her immediate supervisor Max at MI5 may be in love with her. So how will Serena keep the secret of who she actually works for from Tom, maintain her relationship with him (because, you know, they are genuinely in love!), and keep Max at bay?

If all that sounds very intriguing, it is! And the intrigue is heightened by the fact that McEwan writes in the first person (i.e., Serena is telling us her story) — a bold choice, to be sure. But the issue here is that it takes more than half the novel just to get to that point. Meanwhile, McEwan gives us a ton of background on Serena's childhood and time studying "maths" at Cambridge. Then, we detour into the story of a professor at Cambridge named Tony, with whom she Serena has an affair (he's married...scandalous!). And then, as she begins research to lure Tom into Sweet Tooth, we get several long summaries of Tom's short stories. And finally, British politics find their way in here and there, infusing the very slowly building story with a bit more dull. Yes, all this is relevant to what McEwan eventually has in store for us — but that doesn't mean any of it is incredibly interesting.

Contrary to what you may have heard, this is not a spy novel, nor is it a "Cold War thriller" as a blurb on the back suggests. It's much more of a slow-burn than a white-knuckler — a story about a reader's relationship with a writer she first admires, then loves...with a bunch of Cold War stuff thrown in to dress up that kernel of plot. McEwan pulls you along just fast enough that you're not willing to give up before something important happens.

Sweet Tooth ties with Solar as my least favorite McEwan novel. (I loved both Atonement and Saturday.) But McEwan diehards may enjoy Sweet Tooth much more than I did — his dry wit and sharply observed descriptions are definitely on display here. And, as always, he's got something up his sleeve. But to me, that wasn't enough to save this one.

HHhH: What Should Historical Fiction Be?

Laurent Binet's 2012 novel-like piece of writing, HHhH, is the story of Nazi monster, Reinhard Heydrich, nicknamed the Butcher of Prague, and one of the main authors of the Final Solution. It's also the story of his assassination by Czech and Slovak freedom fighters. And, uniquely, it's the story of how Binet wrote the story itself.

Not really fiction, not really history, HHhH is a combination of and meditation on both. Binet tells his story in 257 "chapters" ranging in length from several pages to a single sentence. Binet's question for himself is this: When writing what is ostensibly a story, even though it's something that actually happened, can details be invented to help readability, drama, intrigue, etc.? He quickly decides the answer is "no," because doing so is a cop out, and unfaithful to history. Fiction should never win out, he says. To Binet, the issue, and what would be anathema to him, is turning the historical figures into run-of-the-mill "characters." And he doesn't want to do that, especially for Jozef Gabcik and Jan Kubis, the two men who kill Heydrich in Prague in May 1942, and who he comes to respect immensely.

This internal debate Binet has with himself is epitomized in a single detail: He doesn't know for sure whether the Mercedes Heydrich was riding in the day he was killed was black or green. He obsesses over this detail. Should he include that detail if he doesn't know for sure if it's accurate? Does it matter? Why does it matter?

If this sounds neurotic, and not-at-all interesting, you'll have to trust me that it actually very much is. Indeed, watching Binet argue with himself, and even at times admitting when he was wrong or when he couldn't resist making something up, is fascinating. Whether or not you agree with his theory (and if you love fiction, you can't, necessarily, because it pretty much renders all fiction moot), you'll enjoy the discussion.

And that's not even to mention the story itself, which is by turns riveting, and as dull as your 9th grade history class. Binet tells us about Heydrich's early life — but only briefly. He's more interested in Heydrich's climb to be Himmler's right-hand man. (HHhH stands for "Himmlers Hirn heisst Heydrich," which, translated is "Himmler's brain is called Heydrich.") Binet also spends a lot of time on pre-World War II geopolitics — why Hitler hated Czech president Edvard Benes so much that the mere mention of Benes' name would lead Hitler into a rage in which he'd drop to his knees and chew on the carpet. (HHhH is chock full of tons of these bits of amusing trivia.)

The story really kicks into high gear in the second half, though, as Binet picks up the story of the two assassins, sent from London (where Benes had sought asylum after the Nazis invaded Czechoslovakia) to score a victory for the Resistance by murdering Heydrich. The chronicle of the assassination, the escape, and the last stand in a church in Prague (this isn't a spoiler; it's included on the jacket copy) read as fast as any adventure story or spy novel you could find.

So, if, like me, you're a fan of historical fiction, history, fiction, the philosophy of writing fiction, or any combination therein, you'll probably dig this. Despite a few sags in the middle, this is a great read!

The New Dork Review of 2012

Just when you thought you were finished with 2012 lists, and looking bright-eyedly towards 2013, here's one more. You can handle one more, right? I'll be brief.

My Five Favorite Books of the Year
5. State of Wonder by Ann Patchett / 11/22/63 by Stephen King -- I couldn't decide between these two 2011 novels I read early in 2012, so they both get a shout out. Both are excellent!
4. Office Girl, by Joe Meno -- A short, simple novel about hipsters in Chicago, this story took me by surprise in terms of how much I liked it and how it's stayed with me.
3. The Revised Fundamentals of Caregiving, by Jonathan Evison -- A warmhearted, but hilarious, novel about getting your life back together when you've hit bottom, this was a hugely underrated 2012 novel.
2. Gone Girl, by Gillian Flynn -- Not exactly an upset here, but this story of marital betrayal made Gillian Flynn a household name - and well-deservedly.
1. Arcadia, by Lauren Groff -- Just a beautiful, brilliant book.

The 2012 Stat Sheet
Goodreads tells me I read 52 books, and a total of 21,303 pages.

Three Least Favorite Books of the Year
3. The Sugar Frosted Nutsack, by Mark Leyner -- The title of my review for this head-scratcher of a piece of fiction is "WTF?!" ...and I stand by that.
2. A Hologram For The King, by Dave Eggers -- Even though this found its way onto the National Book Award finalist list, I thought this parable of mid-life crisis and America's place in the world didn't quite "meet its fourth quarter projections."
1. Fifty Shades of Grey, by E.L. James -- Yeah, I read it, only to have the right to make fun of it. It is preposterously awful. But Book Rioter Rebecca and I sure had a lot of fun skewering it.

Favorite Bookish "Call Me Maybe" Parody
The nice folks at Chicago's Open Books made this thing. It is awesome.




Classics Read in 2012
4. Winter's Tale, by Mark Helprin -- I'm still smack-dab in the middle of this one. More later...
3. Underworld, by Don DeLillo -- Everyone's right - the first 60 pages of this novel are the height of American writing about baseball. And there are other passages in this novel that are just breath-takingly profound.
2. East of Eden, by John Steinbeck -- This, somehow, was the first time I'd read Steinbeck, and this fantastic story gives me two of my new favorite characters in literature (Lee and Samuel).
1. Sophie's Choice, by William Styron -- This novel will haunt me forever. I had no idea what I was getting in to when I picked this up. It is the saddest thing I've ever read. And I loved it.

Favorite Under-the-Radar Books
2. A Partial History of Lost Causes, by Jennifer DuBois -- About chess, and Russian, and family, and (no joking) finding the meaning of life.
1. A Naked Singularity, by Sergio De La Pava -- Never mind that Fifty Shades dreck, this novel is actually the 2012 self-publishing success story. It's long, with tons of digressions, and it's not always the simplest read, but it's just a fascinating novel that's hard to put down, once you can talk yourself in to picking it up.

Favorite Non-Fiction
2. The Tender Bar, by J.R. Moehringer -- I'd put this great memoir off for so long, simply because the title was so off-putting. But I'm glad I finally conquered my nit-pick and read it. It's great!
1. Every Love Story Is A Ghost Story, by D.T. Max -- Of course, I read (and totally dug) the first full-length biography of my favorite writer. Of course I did.

And now, for no particular reason, here's Gangnam Style.




Happy Reading in 2013!

Flight Behavior: Marriage, Monarchs and a Changing Climate

Humans are the only animal that can use logic, but that doesn't mean we're always logical. Nor does it mean that we'll always be convinced by reason, or when presented with overwhelming factual evidence.

Yes, the back drop for Barbara Kingsolver's new novel Flight Behavior is climate change. But the novel also examines how poor choices in our personal lives can become victims of their own logic -- that how things are is how they'll be, and they can't be changed. In both cases, though, we do have the power to combat the inertia of entrenched beliefs -- it just takes some courage, discipline and a hell of a lot of hard work.

Dellarobia Turnbow is a married mother of two living on a farm in Eastern Tennessee with her husband Cub. And she's about to throw away her good name on an affair. But as she treks into the woods to the spot for her illicit rendezvous, she witnesses the side of a mountain as if it were a "lake of fire." What she's seeing is actually a huge swarm of monarch butterflies, who have taken a wrong turn (much like Dellarobia with her hasty marriage) on their way to their usual winter home in Mexico, and alighted on this mountain in Tennessee.

Soon, folks from all over the world begin descending upon this small, quiet, conservative Tennessee town to witness what some consider a miracle and what most consider to be a terrifying effect of climate change -- including the handsome, enigmatic Dr. Ovid Bryan, who takes up residence in a trailer on Cub and Dellarobia's farm to study the monarchs.

Throughout the novel, as Dellarobia becomes more involved in studying the butterflies (she gets a job helping Dr. Bryan with his research), and challenging her own beliefs -- both in terms of her conservative, religious values, and also her marriage to her husband, a shotgun affair when they were still in high school because Dellarobia was pregnant -- she begins to wonder what it might take to change her station in life. Is it possible? Is it realistic?

My favorite part of this novel was Dellarobia. I really, really liked her, and I was on her side from beginning to end -- rooting for her to figure that ineffable "it" out. She's plucky and smart, and increasingly determined to change for the better.

But overall, as someone who has studied and written frequently (in my real-world job) about climate change, I wish I'd liked this novel more than I did. It tends to get a little bogged down often with long descriptions of things like sheep husbandry and butterfly science. (Kingsolver is a trained biologist, and that's fairly evident here.) And there's a strange, not-critical-to-plot twist near the end that felt kind of unwarranted and unnecessary and left me wondering about the choice to include it.

The parts of the novel that some readers have found preachy -- about why people seem only to listen to and read media that props up their already-established-and-never-to-be-challenged beliefs, and why climate change seems to have become one of those things, despite the fact that it's not a political argument, but is a scientific near-certainty -- are the parts I actually found most interesting. (Kingsolver doesn't spend a lot of time on the evidence for climate change -- she assumes that you already know this, and also that you're a rational person, and understand that climate change is real. She's not trying to convince readers. She's more interested in the "psychology" of climate deniers, and how they try to recruit others to their fold.)

If you're in to biology and/or the politics of climate change, as well as a good, down-home story about the politics of marriage, you'll definitely find something to like here. I give it 3.5 stars

Bond Girl: Adventures on Wall Street

Alex Garrett is young, cute, and seemingly in way over her head in the cut-throat, spectacularly excessive, old-boys-club world of Wall Street. The questions in Erin Duffy's debut novel, Bond Girl, then: Will "the Business" break her, or will she tough it out, maintain her morals, and rise to the top (even as the markets are melting down)? Or will she let the misogynistic jerks (especially the older married guy who keeps texting her) beat her down?

The atmosphere on Alex's bond-trading floor is not unlike that of a frat house -- the team plays ridiculous pranks on each other, completes "feats of strength" (one fellow earns a $28,000 pot for eating one of everything in the vending machine), give each other silly nicknames (Alex's is "Girlie"), and treat the newbies like crap. At one point, as a punishment for being late one day, Alex has to drive to Brooklyn to pick up a 50-pound wheel of parmesan cheese. Another newbie, a would-be hot-shot Princeton grad, thinks he's advancing quickly when the other traders let him help out on a trade for Cox Communications. They make him yell across the trading floor "I'm a large buyer of Cox." He doesn't get why that's funny, or that he's being pranked.

And while that's all fun and games, the real thrust of this novel is how difficult it is for a woman on Wall Street. Alex begins dating a guy from her company, and he's cute and romantic and nice to her when they're together, but for some reason, he never answers his phone on weekends -- which should be an enormous red flag, but Alex enjoys their time together, and doesn't want to be "that girl" by making a big deal of it. And then there's Rick, the head of a hedge fun, and a major client -- who immediately sees Alex as a potential conquest. He rigs situations to be alone with her, constantly asks her out for drinks at hotels, and texts her creepy messages at all hours of the night. Alex just grins and bears it, and chalks it up as part of the job.

Overall, Bond Girl is a quick, fun read that gives a glimpse into the excesses and absurdities of Wall Street. Yes, it is on the "chick-lit" side (as you can probably tell by the cover), so there's lots of spa-ing and gossiping with friends over margaritas and thinking about how it "takes pain to beautiful." But if you're a dude, it's a good look behind the curtain, per se, to see how the other half thinks. (That's the real reason I read it -- it came up as available on my library holds list right before Christmas, and I figured it'd be a good mindless distraction between presents and egg nog.) It's light and breezy, and a good read for when you just want to turn your brain off and be entertained.