First of all, it seems that as time goes by, current priorities will be taken over by future or upcoming priorities. Promises made on grammatical reviews were de-prioritised/cast aside/forgotten/rejected/thrown into junk/trashed.. "Note to self: select whichever applicable".
Whatever it is, I’ve taken such a long hiatus from blogging about books that my wittiness has lost its edge. Or perhaps I lost it due to other reasons but then I shall save that for another round of blog entry, can’t compress too much info into one entry lest I lose the attention and the context of what I’m supposed to write in the first place. :-P
Anyway, without further ado… I present to you a book called “Tinkers by Paul Harding”.
What can I say about the book? The cover and the synopsis at the back said pretty much everything but nothing at all at the same time. It’s a winner of Pulitzer Prize for fiction.. it won rave reviews… it was the book meant to reignite my passion in reading and blogging. It was a book that caused emptiness within my being and brought tears to my eyes. Actually the last sentence is something I added on and DOES NOT describe the book at all; so don’t be deceived :-P
To tell the truth, the book is a major let-down; at least for me. I will tell you why.. I love to talk with reasons/excuses; or facts if I fancy with people who relish in facts and not fiction J
Let’s just think for a moment, when you’re lying on the bed, dying or in the midst of walking towards the bright white light, what would cross your mind? I’m sure you’ll be thinking about your life. Things that happened from the day your brain started storing all the precious memories (however limited that space can be) which you’ll remember till the day you die and even beyond that (though still not proven by science).
So what’s wrong with this book then? This book is wrong on so many levels that I can’t comprehend how it won Pulitzer Prize in the first place (in my humble opinion). Here are the list of reasons:
1. The dying old man did not only reflect on his own life but his father’s life and his grandpa’s life! I mean, come on… you’ll know SLIGHTLY about your own father’s life but you would NEVER know anything more than what he told you.. you wouldn’t know a hoot about your grandpa’s life so this is a big BS to me (pardon my language).
2. I have this aversion towards repeated reference(s). Just like the book entitled “OneHundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez” which is basically as repetitive as an old senile grandma. This book? Let me quote oft used reference; “The reasonable horologist. By the Rev. Kenner Davenport, 1783”. It was used so many times that I even dreamed about it.. just joking… :-P
3. Usage of bombastic words. Literally peppered with so many words that I don’t see much use except in a pretentiously pretentious book written about pretentious dying old man; pun intended.
4. Finally, I don’t know what this book’s ultimate “direction”. Is it about the dying old man? His dad? His grandpa? His dad’s first wife? His dad’s second wife? His mother? The hunting party? It is so confusing to me because the storyline coagulated together like wet lumpy flour instead of a well beaten egg white for the mouth-watering orange chiffon cake. Heck, even the multi-layered, multi-faceted book entitled “The Death of Vishnu by Manil Suri” is a MUCH MUCH better read than this one. Nuff said!
Personal rating: 1 out of 10 (I wish I can give it a 0 though)
1) Too many cons that I had to eat corn to coax myself out of the never-ending dystopia.
1) Engagement on personal level related to this book? No affinity towards the book or the story line.