Battles with the Spree: Nick Hornby's "Housekeeping vs. The Dirt"

Book: Housekeeping vs. The Dirt

Author: Nick Hornby

Pages:153

Copy: Sonoma County Library paperback

Read: first week of October

Spoilers: essays--so what's there to spoil?

This is the first book by Nick Hornby that I've read, and it isn't a bad introduction. While Hornby is perhaps better known for his fiction, he is a truly delightful essayist. He has an engaging voice and he isn't afraid to give his opinion (though The Believer requires all book reviews published in its pages to be positive--forcing Hornby to engage in some amusing acrobatics when he reads something he doesn't like), two important characteristics of an essayist. That his subject is rather narrow (he focuses on his opinions of books and rarely ventures further into social commentary as, say, George Orwell might) is his only limiting factor. However, Hornby is a surprisingly fascinating character, so his essays don't suffer dramatically; nevertheless, I must admit that I've forgotten most of his opinions, and it's been less than two weeks. He's amusing, but fleeting.

Perhaps the best aspect of his essays is his honesty about magazine-writing. He describes the many battles he has with his editors: the differences of opinion, the attempts at control and manipulation, and so on. To what extent he is exaggerating is difficult to ascertain, but even his exaggeration is amusing. (For instance, the number of editors fluctuates sensationally from, for example, 55 to 15 to 430. To this moment I have no idea how many editors he has, though in one quasi-honest passage he says there are 64. But I still don't believe him completely.) He seems like a particularly difficult person to deal with (at the very least, that is the personality he develops throughout the pages of his reviews), but he's always amusing in his crankiness.

Hornby reviews a variety of books, but each review is so short it's hard to decide whether or not you want to read the book yourself (though I'm not entirely sure getting you to read any of these books is the point--I think Hornby uses his essays to explore what is interesting to him by way of what he reads each month, which isn't a bad alternative). To be honest (since this isn't The Believer), Hornby's essays are incredibly scattered, occasionally making them difficult to follow. At times this collection felt like a very small piece of something much larger, with references that didn't make sense to someone jumping in to the middle (this is the second collection of articles from his column--perhaps his first, The Polysyllabic Spree, would clear up some of the things I missed).

At any rate, Hornby is a good writer and he has an excellent voice. His articles might be best for those who read omnivorously and who read a lot. His essays aren't aimed at the average American reader, which isn't to say they're written academically. But there is an obvious strain of elitism and snobbery that runs through them, a strain that might put off some readers. Then again, almost all essayists have those that love them and those that loath them.

--Benvolia

Flying Home: Katherine Catmull’s “Summer and Bird”

Book: Summer and Bird

Author: Katherine Catmull

Pages: 344

Copy: advanced reader

Read: finished August 27

Spoilers: there isn’t a traditional happy ending: biggest spoiler

Katherine Catmull’s book is wonderful, from its fairy tale atmosphere to its snappy authorial asides.  While Summer and Bird is aimed at readers 10 and up, I think almost anyone could read this book happily (which means grown-ups can buy a hardcover that isn’t overpriced: yay!).  The sisters are realistic and complex, the book weaves between points of view delightfully, and the writing is beautiful.

I love this book enough that it is difficult to know where to begin.  I think one of the finest points about this book is its use of fairy tales and mythology.  Catmull borrows from multiple stories (I think—this may be a more straight-forward retelling of a story I just haven’t read—correct me if you know better), but most of all she captures the atmosphere.  It’s impossible to describe the proper fairy tale atmosphere exactly, but Catmull nails it.  She obviously knows her stuff.

Another important facet of this book is its accurate depiction of sisters.  Summer and Bird are not simple characters and their relationship is as complex as any real relationship.  There is jealousy, but there’s also real love and tenderness.  The two girls will always have to struggle to remain on good terms, but it’s obvious they will always try because they love each other.

The more I think about this book, the better it seems.  The ending is not the “Happily ever after” of Disney movies, but the more difficult salvaging of the pieces.  This book displays a deeply disrupted family that will never completely heal, and that impossibility makes the book all the better.  I think in some ways this book may help any child with a spilt family, if only because Catmull refuses to sugarcoat the difficulties of accepting a parent that has (hopefully inadvertently) caused pain.

Catmull’s use of birds is astounding.  She has an eye for details, carefully differentiating all the different types of birds and their different habits.  (Perhaps this book is a good way to encourage future birders!)  While few of the birds inhabit their real habitat, that Catmull even bothers to describe such diversity is refreshing.  (Some kind of environmental reading of this book would be very interesting to read, if incredibly difficult to undertake.)

This book is fantastic.  Go read it, immediately, while I try to come up with a review that is more articulate.  Maybe my second reading will let me describe it in a less dazed fashion.

--Benvolia