The Nix by Nathan Hill

What a disappointment. It shouldn't have been, but it was. The Nix by Nathan Hill was bad, and I should have seen it coming.

I promise I began the novel with an open mind and open heart. I got caught up in the publisher's marketing scheme. I looked longingly at the novel's cover on my computer screen before it even came out. I read the lengthy list of promises authors and reviewers made, saying that this would be the book to read this year. My beloved John Irving shared a positive review. My heart fluttered.

Like most heavily praised, widely read popular fiction that sparks my curiosity because of its following, it left me confused. Confused at how in the world people could stand this novel, let alone call it great.

The Nix is an attempt to strike the heart of the average middle-class American. Hill draws our attention to little quirks of our time and place, like the potentially faux-faded t-shirt of the college-aged girl and her skewed logic at what society owes her, an obsession with video games, and this in the very beginning. Rather than artfully craft these time-markers into the story, the story becomes the time-markers. The novel reflects what many see and feel on an average day, framing it in such a way that is supposed to be endearing. We are supposed to be endeared to this character and this author because they notice the things we do, and write them down. It wants people to feel in on the joke of life, but it fails to artfully craft this joke of life into anything interesting.Nothing new is shared, no interesting perspective, no wisdom. One key to great literature is some form of newness, which can take many forms. This novel takes none of them.

Beyond being simply blah, it reads like a first draft NANOWRIMO (National Novel Writing Month) Challenge. It is all over the place and oozes with self-aware irony in the worst way. The way that the guy looking through records at Urban Outfitters would. The novel tries hard to be funny, but it fails. It tries to tell a story, but meanders down many a winding road leading nowhere. On top of all that, we are offered low-key sexism and a severe lack of character development.

It is a hodgepodge reflection of other books that have already been written, and it goes on and on and on. It isn't good, but with all this press it will inevitably be well-received.

Book Review: The Vegetarian

I received a free copy of this book for an honest review from Blogging for Books. Except that now that I have rated this book low, they have decided to "help" me select my next free book. Meaning they will not allow me to choose certain books for fear I will also rank them low.

I had mixed feelings going into this book, primarily because of the title and cover design, both of which looked overplayed and unoriginal. Beginning the book, something felt off. I cannot read Korean, so I have no idea how the text flows in its original language, but I have a feeling that this translation is poor. Certain sentences and words feel out of place, a little off, which allows the translation to show through, something that truly great translators know how to conceal.

At this point, I am halfway through the book. I plan on chugging along, but it is a slow chug. The book is easy to read, and it really should quick except that I can't settle into it long enough to zip through it. In fact, I find the book boring.

Part of my boredom stems from the characters, who are less full-fledged characters and more symbols for people, societal pressures, and points of view. This works in some instances, but this book doesn't offer enough philosophical meat (budumdum) for me to buy it. It either needs to give me more ideas or give me more characters, but instead it lacks a great deal of either.

There is a whole lot of telling and very little showing going on. The ideas of feminine oppression paired with meat-eating is not a new one, though I admit to having little knowledge of this idea in contexts beyond my own cultural boundaries. I'm usually not a fan of this comparison anyway, except for Maragart Atwood's The Edible Woman, which I think gets at the message subtly and with a weird, interesting spin. This one doesn't do it for me. 

Note that I did end up finishing the book, and it did end up being bad.