Dirty Rotten Scoundrels "Crime and Punishment" by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

First off, this book is thick, the pages are thin, and the words are small, which is daunting. I got gasps from people, gasps, when I mentioned I was reading this book, mostly I'm guessing because big books like this tend to be boring and filled with ideas but short on story, a monstrosity that's called "classic" because what else can you do.

But "No," I would answer the gasps, "the book is amazing, it's fascinating, and graphic and intense and funny, and it reads quickly," that was the most astonishing thing even I found. In essence, I can see why Crime and Punishment is considered a classic: because it's a really really great novel. Simple as that.

That's not to say there isn't anything to dissect, I think you could make a career out of picking this novel apart. Some people already have, which makes me happy, because then I don't have to read the novel countless times to weed through the endless themes in search of some higher meaning. If you're curious, even if you haven't read it, it is cool, so check it out (it's just wikipedia, anyways).

Crime and Punishment is a symmetrical story that follows the actions of Raskolnikov. There is too much that happens in the novel to give it a proper summary, and consequently I'm not going to try. Raskolnikov's endless struggle over his reaction to his crime and the cat and mouse game with the cunning detective Porfiry Petrovich are enough for a novel, but Dostoevsky, who apparently is a master of character, layers in so much more than that. As a reader you are greeted with so much literary treasure that it's hard to keep yourself satiated. You want more, more, more, so that even the bulk of the novel isn't enough. (I myself have to read his following novels now, there is absolutely no question, though I may wait because they are a commitment). Raskolnikov's sister Dunya, his mother Pulkheria, his friend Razumikhin, the old man Marmaledov, Raskolnikov's moral mirror Sonya, and the despicable Svidrigailov are all such satisfying characters in themselves that just by writing their names I want to read more about them. And to tell about them would take so long that instead of doing so I say: read this book!

I want to paste this section because it grabbed me. I felt that here Dostoevsky was writing in blood, or at least I feel a real communion with him in this section, and I'd like to think that one of the seeds for his book is here:

Siberia. On the bank of a wide, lonely river there is a town, one of Russia's administrative centries; in the town there is a fortress, in the fortress is a prison. In the prison there is a penal exile of the second category, Rodion Raskolnikov. Since the day he committed his crime almost one and a half years have passed.

Crime and Punishment is an absolute pleasure to read. It's philosophical, witty, and fresh (yes, fresh even if it is a classic, because I've not read anything like it). I'll never forget the end of the Part One, how I sat in bed, mouth agape in shock, and read with a ferocity I have not read with in quite a while. It wasn't the ferocity of "I've got to know what happens", but more "I can't believe what I am reading." The vignettes Dosoevsky creates are funny at times, sad at others, but altogether they are necessary, and that's what I love about his book. Multi-layered, full of meaning and ambiguity, and rich in all the right ways, Crime and Punishment made quite an impression on me, one that I hope I will not soon forget (and one I must come back to whenever I write something of my own one day).

Pretty Gritty Things "All The Pretty Horses" by Cormac McCarthy

Two or three years ago, I walked into Dutton's, a bookstore on Magnolia in Burbank, CA, and was informed that all the books in the store, including used copies, were 50% off the marked price. They were closing and consolidating to a main shop a few miles away. Though I was sad to see such a great bookstore close, I went hog wild. I left with more books than I needed, and I found myself making lists of books I wanted and returning repeatedly over the next few weeks to check their library and satisfy my literary hunger for a lot cheaper than I was accustomed to.

Chief on my list were the novels of Ernest Hemingway, any classics, and books I'd always wanted to read but never had a chance. I picked up All The Pretty Horses on a whim. Maybe I liked the cover... I can't remember. But reading it these past couple of weeks has completely validated my $3.50 purchase. In hindsight, I'd pay full price.

Cormac McCarthy is a brilliant writer. He nails his characters down to a T, and creates such stunning and rich portraits that you can feel the dust clog your nostrils as the riders in his stories cross the plains of Texas into the dry country of Mexico and beyond. You taste the dried blood. You feel their pain, their hunger, their longing, their out of placeness. With a Cormac McCarthy novel, you feel everything.

This novel follows a young Texas rancher named John Grady Cole. Cole's grandfather passed away and his ranch the only thing left of his possesions. His mother, heir to the ranch, is set on selling it. So he runs away to Mexico with his friend Rawlins. They happen upon an oasis, a sprawling ranch amid the arid landscape, and become ranch hands. Cole meets and falls in love with the ranch owner's daughter, Alejandra, and he and Rawlins begin to "break" wild horses. The scenes Cole speaks to horses are some of the most tender and amazing in the novel.

Cole and Rawlins end up in a dangerous Mexican jail for helping a kid named Jimmy Blevins get his horse back after a lightning storm, and both nearly die in knife fights. They are released from prison, and Cole tries to win back Alejandra but finds out that she made a promise to her grandmother that she would never see him again if she paid the jail to release Cole and his friend.

Heartbroken, alone, and desperate, Cole goes back to Texas, where nothing is left for him. He rounds up the horses he lost and takes them with him, leaving everywhere for nowhere, not sure where to call home, not sure if his heart is in anything at all.

Amid so many striking, poignant scenes in the novel is the setting. It's not the old west, it's the 1950's. Cole is the last in a long line of Texas ranchers, he's a dying breed, and when he and Rawlins run away, they do so on their horses, riding along roads and cars going much faster than them. These two worlds coexist subtextually, but the subtleness comes through, and adds a haunting dimension to the novel.

One last note, John Grady Cole is only 16, yet he's a strong character. He's a man. He knows right from wrong and he won't budge from his morals for anything or anyone, not even if he's facing death. I'd be friends with him. I admire him. I guess that's part of the power of this story. It's a time gone past and yet here still today. Today it's tough to meet a twenty-something that's an adult, much less a man. So I like John Grady Cole.

I highly recommend this novel, but beware, the prose is hypnotic and engrossing. The tale is as captivating as anything you'll read, but it might haunt you, just a little bit. The subtext of this novel lasts far longer, far more subconsciously, than should be rightly admitted.

Miracle-Gro "Where the Red Fern Grows" by Wilson Rawls

I've been on a kick lately of reading books I never got the chance to read. When I told Aubrey I'd never read Where the Red Fern Grows she told me I had to read it, that it was the first book she read and reread zealously as a child. I was intrigued.

But I tread lightly. Aubrey likes books that are sad, her recommendations are books that make one want to cry their weeks away, to wallow in the sadness, to feel the deepest, saddest emotions the earth has afforded us.

And still, I had to read it. I'm glad I did.


Billy saves up money for two years to buy some hunting dogs so he can hunt coons in the foggy river bottoms of Ozark Country, which is quite a feat for any young boy. He finally gets his dogs and trains them with patience and care matching that of the most committed trainers, and breeds two of the best hunting dogs. Billy and his dogs go out night after night, and they form one of the strongest bonds ever illustrated in a book.

This book started slow, and though I was into the ideas of it, I had a hard time getting into it. I stayed patient, and it payed off. About halfway through I was hooked, and at the end I was so devastated yet hopeful that I could see why Aubrey loved this book, why she had read it again and again. This story not only evoked feelings within me I had long since forgotten, it transported me to a time and place I love to go. The south, the Ozarks, the woods, hunting with two loyal dogs in the woods, skirting disaster at every turn with the imagination and invincibility we all feel we have at such a young age.

Where the Red Fern Grows is a timeless classic, worth every page, worth the slow beginning, and definitely worth the miraculous end. I wish I had read this book when I was younger, but then again, I'm kindof glad I didn't. I'm kindof glad Aubrey recommended this book to me, glad she had me pinned that I would love this book. And I'm glad I listened.