2 posts tagged “ass”
I wanted to make a Top 10 list of things I've read and loved this past year, but I instantly forget everything I've read (despite this blog; sometimes I actually leave books on the desk to say HEY, you should write something about this and then every time I see it I say OH YEAH, that was an awesome book ... oh, look a bird!). But, so, here's at least a top 5:
1. Disgrace, J.M. Coetzee (holy moly, where has he been my whole life?)
2. Tamar, Mal Peet
3. Unwind, Neal Shusterman
4. American Born Chinese, Gene Yang (COMIN' TO MY SCHOOL IN MAY, Y'ALL!!!)
5. The Yiddish Policeman's Union, Michael Chabon (Really, he can do no wrong. Plus he's friends with Lemony Snicket.)
Any other nominations from you vast hordes of readers?
I am interested in nominations for top ASS books of 2007 as well. I I can't decide whether to put Eat, Pray, Love on the list. Further rumination is required.
I have a real problem with one of Ainsley's favorite books. It is Zoo's Who, apparently by the literary equivalent of Alan Smithee, and it is simply riddled with what I consider irredeemable grammatical errors. I don't want to go all Eats, Shoots and Leaves on baby board books, but come on!
For instance, I give you the following (line breaks belong to Zoo's Who):
The toucan hops, it
rarely flies, it's hard you
see, with a beak this size!
Moving around between the
trees, picking fruits and
nuts with ease.
Or how about:
The elephant's trunk is her
nose, it stretches right
down to her toes.
Or even:
Zebra's stripes are black and
white, when he sees a lion he
gets a fright.
This book has 14 pages total. Do they not believe in semicolons over there at Priddy Books? In fairness, I suppose, even if a copy editor did manage to glance through this (while stroking the fuzzy panda and the scaly iguana), ee
wouldn't know where to begin. Maybe:
The toucan hops, it The toucan hops; it
rarely flies, it's hard you
see, with a beak this size!
Moving around between the
trees, picking fruits and
nuts with ease.
I know the point of this book is to have fuzzy tactile experiences and not to be a punctuation primer, but OH MY SWEET JESUS it's like nails on a chalkboard every night when I read this. I can't even get verbal punctuation up in that bitch.
That's my rant, and I don't even really feel better now. It's still out there. Worse, it's still in here. Also, that tactile toucan? FURRY. NOT EVEN FEATHERY. There is no experience this book offers that is not warped and wrong.
I just finished The Yiddish Policeman's Union, which was AWESOME. I bow before Michael Chabon. But more on that later.
