Middlesex: A Novel

Available from Audible.com

Author: Jeffrey Eugenides
Reader: Kristoffer Tabori

Short Review: A novel I absolutely love, full of gorgeous language, beautifully-rendered characters, and entrancing history and myth. Tabori’s reading is downright fantastic, and Eugenides remains one of the most talented writers of his generation. This is one of the best books I’ve ever read or listened to.

Long Review: I read this book on paper several years ago and found it absolutely fascinating. Eugenides treats his subject matter with a great deal of tenderness and honesty, never turning towards the louche or sensational.

For those who’ve missed the hype: the protagonist of Middlesex is a hermaphrodite who is raised as a girl and then chooses to live as a man upon discovering the nature of his unusual condition. That’s not a spoiler–the book opens with this very information. The book is about genetics, the nature of love and family, the natures of human sexuality and gender (which are two different things), Smyrna, Greek-Americans, silk, the foundation of the Nation of Islam, Detroit, racial relations . . . it’s about many fascinating things. It is so engrossing because Caliope/Cal is a true work of art. Eugenides knows how to build a character. He richly deserved that Pulitzer.

Because I loved the paper book so much, I was a bit worried about picking up the audiobook. It drives me batty when someone reads a book I love in the wrong voice for my head. Thankfully, I could listen to Tabori read the phonebook. I wasn’t familiar with him prior to this book, but I look forward to hearing more of his work. Tabori switches comfortably between the voices of many characters, from the basement-deep Jimmy Zizmo to the quavering, fragile Desdemona-as-grandmother. He plays the characters well, but doesn’t push it too far. He’s clearly playing Cal playing the other characters, rather than trying to leave his roll as first-person narrator for those other characters.

In part, the book is so successful because Eugenides is such a careful researcher. Descriptions of Smyrna, silk production, the birth of the US car industry, prohibition, Turkey, genetics, gender reassignment, and many other topics all ring true. Without that underlying research, the book would fall apart. I finished the book with a list of things I wanted to research and a real sense of wonder about Smyrna in particular.

Overall, I think the most surprising thing about Middlesex is its humor. If you describe this book or The Virgin Suicides to someone who isn’t familiar with Eugenides’ work, they’ll assume both stories are weighty, heartbreaking tragedies. In fact, both stories are so engaging because they’re so drenched in wit and humor. Cal, in particular, is charmingly self-effacing and funny. He’s not self-pitying, he doesn’t chastise his relatives for his treatment or his condition. He recognizes the absurdity of humanity itself, as should we all.

Author: Carl Hiaasen

Reader: Stephen Hoye

Short Review: An engaging, funny, environmental crime novel set in the Florida Everglades. Hiaasen is a gem, and Hoye is good but doesn’t shine quite as brightly.

Long Review: As the book opens, Hiaasen has us witness an attempted murder at sea. The beautiful young Joey Perrone is thrown overboard by her husband Chaz. In the water, Joey reminisces over just how useless her murdering husband is as she struggles to stay alive. Retired cop Mick Stranahan rescues Joey the next morning, and hilarity ensues. Hiaasen draws a number of memorable likeable (or dislikeable) characters and sketches some extras to fill out the plot. Chaz is truly distasteful; Joey, Mick, and Karl Rolvaag are truly likable.

I won’t reveal any more about the plot. Hiaasen’s books are as enjoyable as they are because he plays with plot and language so effectively, and I’d hate to diminish any of that fun for a reader. Suffice it to say that Hiaasen keeps it fun and maintains quick pacing throughout the story.

I always hesitate to criticize audiobook narrators–it’s a hard job, and one I don’t have any direct experience with. But I do criticize, because I know that a reader whose work puts me off will put me off of an audiobook entirely. There are readers I cannot bear to listen to and readers I absolutely love, and the differences in their styles aren’t always noticeable to other listeners. In this instance, I found Hoye’s narration too affected at the beginning of the book. Thankfully, his reading grew on me as he relaxed into the role, and by the end, I was comfortable with his style. Skipping back to the beginning to work on this review reawoke my misgivings, though, so it seemed worth mentioning.

Author: Terry Pratchett

Reader: Stephen Briggs

Short Review: This follow-up to Going Postal follows Moist Von Lipwig as he embarks on a new venture: running the Mint at the all-too-pointed behest of Lord Vetinari. Briggs, as usual, reads well and beautifully. Pratchett, as usual, is funny and satirical. What’s not to love?

Long Review Considering when this book was released and when Pratchett must have started work on it, I’m beginning to believe the man is downright prescient. Making Money opens in the midst of a financial crisis in Ankh-Morpork. Lord Vetinari encourages Lipwig to take over Ankh-Morpork’s banks and mint and reverse the longstanding gross mismanagement and corruption. Lipwig tries to refuse, finds he can’t, and digs right in.

The familiar Vetinari, Lipwig, and Dearheart all return, and are joined by a number of other interesting characters like Malvolio Bent, chief cashier and Harry King, garbage kingpin. We learn more about Dearheart’s work in the Golem’s rights movement, Lipwig’s past, and business happenings in Ankh-Morpork.

The plot isn’t quite as organized or fast-paced as Going Postal, which makes me wonder if it was rushed to press, or if Pratchett fell out of love with the story towards the end. Whatever the reason, I’m not all that disappointed. This isn’t Pratchett’s best work, but it’s much more entertaining than most of the jolly satire laying about. I’ll keep listening to his audiobooks and reading his paper books as long as he produces them, and I’d encourage you all to do the same.

Author: Terry Pratchett
Reader: Richard Mitchley

Short Review: A standout story from Pratchett’s Johnny Maxwell trilogy, read with great personality and skill by Richard Mitchley. Our hero Johnny learns that he can see and speak to the Dead in his local cemetery, and winds up facing down corrupt, frightening enemies.

Long Review: The second book in the Johnny Maxwell series follows Johnny as he discovers his ability to see and talk to the dead, and then intercedes on the behalf of the ghosts living in his local cemetery. Johnny stands up to crooked local politicians and thugs, hangs out with his friends, and learns a great deal about local and British history and politics along the way. As I’ve come to expect, Pratchett’s story is funny, sharp, and thoroughly enjoyable. The story is slightly scary in a few parts, but it’s never the Dead who are frightening–Johnny is threatened by normal, flesh and blood evil.

Mitchley is a fantastic reader. He developed many distinct voices for the different characters in the novel, and he maintains clear separation between the characters as he narrates. His pitches, accents, and pacing are enchanting. Mitchley’s work is an absolute treat to hear, and I plan to seek out other audiobooks he has narrated.

Author: Roald Dahl

Reader: Jeremy Irons

Short Review: One of my favorite Dahl books, read enchantingly by the inimitable Jeremy Irons.

Long Review: I love Dahl in general and this story in particular. It’s a wonderful book that manages to reward the main character’s kindness, and bravery, punish his evil aunts, exemplify great comic poetry, and lionize bugs. It’s funny, it’s sweet, it’s filled with black humor . . . it has so many things to recommend it as a book read on paper. Irons’ narration makes it even better. He throws himself so completely into the reading, building excitement, savoring the poetry, playing with accent and pronunciation, and just generally having such a great time that I couldn’t help but have a great time listening to him.

I know the book itself has been challenged a number of times as inappropriate for children, but I think the claims against it are ridiculous. Yes, the two villains are criticized for their body types, but no more so than would a woman in any fashion magazine. Yes, there is profanity in it, as well as smoking and drinking–big deal. The world is full of all three, and kids know it. The book has also been attacked because it encourages children to rebel against adults. I think that is perhaps the truly telling attack: many people are so busily wishing kids would just do what they’re told and forget there are times when children absolutely need to rebel against adults who are wronging them. My heart soars each time I think of James breaking the yoke thrown on him by his evil aunts and finding friends who appreciate his cleverness and bravery.

I love the book. I’ll listen to it again, and I’ll share it with my nieces and nephew. If their parents complain about anything in the book, I’ll have a hard time working up an apology.

Sample audio available.

Author: David Sedaris

Reader: David Sedaris

Short review: One of Sedaris’ best books of essays and stories, read tenderly and hilariously and scathingly by the author. Several pieces are live performances, and many of them are downright great.

Long review: I’m a fan of David Sedaris, and this book has a lot to do with that. This time around, he includes more stories about his family and growing up in North Carolina, including some really poignant pieces about his own weaknesses. “Repeat After Me” is particularly important to me, because Sedaris deals with his guilt and his family’s anguish over being used as fodder for his work. Sedaris is generally funny, but he’s also clearly a man who loves his family and isn’t particularly comfortable with the way he exposes them to scrutiny by writing about them. I love that about him, in part because I’m always terrified that I’ll hurt my family and friends in my own (nowhere near as successful) writing.

“Six to Eight Black Men” is a side-splittingly funny story about Dutch Christmas traditions. Sedaris’ pieces about travel and other cultures always get me, but this one succeeds because of both how very ridiculous the traditions seem to Americans and the reaction of the live audience.

Sedaris’ significantly-younger brother Paul is perhaps the star of this book. He features in two great stories: “Rooster at the Hitchin’ Post,” about Paul’s wedding, and “Baby Einstein,” about Paul’s daughter’s birth. The first is read in front of a live audience, which I particularly appreciate. Within the confines of the stories, the contrasting sexuality and temperaments of the two Sedaris brothers make for a wonderful dichotomy. Paul pokes at David’s homosexuality (referring to him as “Big gay hoss”) and David explains that his would-be macho brother is short and sloppy, with a higher voice than David’s nasal high tenor. The portrayal could seem cruel in another writer’s voice, but David Sedaris skewers himself right along with his little brother to keep things fair. But it all seems loving. Sedaris’ constant turns from the sweetness of love and birth to the family’s odd jokes about kids’ names, sexuality, in-laws, and the like keep the pace moving quickly and allow the shock of his humor to build over and over again.

 Author: David Sedaris

 Reader: David Sedaris

 Short Review: Sedaris’ funny, self-deprecating, heart-breaking stories about moving to France with his partner Hugh, learning French, his family, and his own flaws and experiences. The author reads his own work in his distinctive voice, never flinching as he excoriates himself either in front of a live audience or alone in a studio. Sedaris is an amazing, brave writer and reader. I’ve listened to this particular book three or four times, and I know I’ll keep returning to it.

Long Review: I adore Sedaris’ stories. I learned of his work listening to his pieces on NPR’s This American Life. I’ve read several of his books on paper, but because I fell for this writer reading his own work, I truly prefer his audiobooks to their paper siblings.

There are a few real standouts in the book. My favorites are “Me Talk Pretty One Day,” a description of his traumatic time in a French class taught by a heartless misanthrope; “Jesus Shaves,” a recounting of his French class’ strange discussion about how holidays are celebrated in their home countries; “A Shiner Like a Diamond,” about his sister Amy’s habit of transforming herself into strange characters and how it tortures their father; “The Youth in Asia,” about the Sedaris family’s relationship to their pets; and “I’ll Eat What He’s Wearing,” about his father’s strange views on food and frugality.

Some listeners may be put off by some of Sedaris’ topics. He openly discusses some medical and dental issues that may gross out the delicate. He’s gay and out, and there are some people who still take offense at that for whatever reason, though I doubt they’d settle on Sedaris’ work for entertainment in the first place. And he openly discusses some very self-destructive drug use when he was a student. None of those things throw me, though. It’s his honesty that makes me love Sedaris’ work so much, and I have a deep-seated appreciation for people who describe their faults without hesitation.

Author: Roald Dahl

Reader: Eric Idle

Short Review: Dahl’s award-winning children’s book read wonderfully by Eric Idle.

Long Review: Eric Idle does a fantastic job with the book. Fantastic. He’s a man who understands humor, kids, storytelling, and his own vocal and acting abilities. I picked this up at the library expecting a nice nostalgic trip back to Dahl’s universe. I knew Idle would do a good job, but I also knew I’d read this book many times, and had it read to me, and seen a couple of film adaptations of the story. I didn’t expect to be blown away by a book that blew me away when I was 6.

I should have known that Eric Idle would knock it out of the park. His diction is great, his accents are great, and he developed distinctive voices for each character. He doesn’t hold back at all–his reading is energetic and funny and passionate in all the best ways. I laughed out loud at several points while listening (which can be problematic when you commute via public transit like I do), so I can imagine that an engaged kid would be rolling around on the floor laughing at choice moments.

I don’t have kids, but I wouldn’t hesitate to play this for my nieces or nephew, who range in age from 5 though 12. There are a couple of words in the book that some parents may not want their children to hear–”ass” is used to refer to human anatomy at one point, and I’m sure some other words passed my notice. The book has received some sharp criticism over the years both for long sections describing the Bucket family’s poverty and for the depiction of bratty kids who receive strange punishments. I happen to think such criticisms are silly and give children too little credit for their strength, sensitivity, and abilities to reason and think in the abstract. You may want to take my opinion with a grain of salt, however, since I’m the type of liberal Auntie who almost always comes down in favor of a child’s autonomy and freedom. I am an Auntie who grew up with a bookshelf full of Dahl, Seuss, Tolkein, Sendak, L’Engle, and the like, afterall, so I guess it’s to be expected.

Author: Terry Pratchett
Reader: Stephen Briggs

Short Review: Another very entertaining Discworld novel read wonderfully by Stephen Briggs. This story follows forcible-reformed former con-artist Moist von Lipwig (a.k.a. Albert Spangler) as he attempts to reform the Ankh-Morpork post office at the behest of Lord Vetinari. The story teems with great characters, intrigue, technomancy, bureaucracy, golems, ponzi schemes, small gods, mail, stamps, secret societies, and a pirate.

Long Review: As I mentioned in my review for Thud!, I love Briggs’ narration. Love it. Again, he does a wonderful job voicing a variety of different characters, keeping the story moving at a good clip but maintaining clear diction, and generally just being a damn good reader.

Pratchett plays with a lot of current events in this book, as he does in several discworld books. In this instance, we’re looking at amoral business practices, monetizing of information transfer, competition between old and new methods of moving information, and labor law and ethics. Pratchett elevates the importance of the written world within the discworld universe in general and this novel in particular, which is a downright common trope among writers and one whose absence would make me wonder. He also comes down firmly in favor of workers’ rights. As usual, the ideology Pratchett serves up goes down easily because it’s sweet and easy to chew. I guess some people would take umbrage with Pratchett’s political content, but I tend to agree with the man so I don’t quibble.

Moist von Lipwig and Adora Belle Dearheart make a great pair of central characters, and I look forward to reading more about them in future books. I also prefer layered characters to flat ones, and Lipwig and Dearheart are both craggy enough to hold a lot of interest. I also loved getting a closer look at Lord Vetinari and learning more about the Golems of discworld.

Short Review: This fun, funny, and often thoughtful story follows Sam Vimes as he investigates the murder of dwarven leader Grag Hamcrusher. Vimes is a father and husband, an unwilling member of the nobility, Commander of the watch, and a good old copper. He is pressured into hiring the first Vampire on the watch and has to manage religious and racial tensions between humans, vampires, werewolves, igors, dwarfs, and trolls while simultaneously solving a murder and preventing the outbreak of a troll v. dwarf war. The book is read by the wonderful Stephen Briggs, a regular reader for Pratchett’s books and one of my absolute favorite audiobook narrators.

Long Review: Briggs is a wonderful reader. Let’s start with that. I’ve listened to a number of Pratchett books, all read by Briggs, and the man is a wonder. He is comfortable working in many different accents, differentiates the characters clearly without losing rhythm or overdoing it, and reads with a lot of humor but also real tenderness when necessary. He’s a wonderful reader. The concept of anyone else reading Pratchett’s work makes me itch.

Thud! parodies The Da Vinci Code, a book I can’t stomach. I tried to read it, gave up within a few pages of the front cover, and seethe when I’m reminded of its mere existence. So, I love things that make fun of it. Love them. Pratchett, of course, is funny and smart and kind, so his parody is sweet and sharp without being overly cruel to Dan Brown. The book also satirizes ongoing religious and racial tensions in the Middle East and the West, maintaining a light tone while also pointing out the ridiculous amount of stupidity that abounds in our modern world.

Pratchett’s kindness is one of the best things about his humor. Throughout this and his other discworld novels, he creates deeply flawed and often stupid characters–Nobby Nobbs comes to mind–and then he deals with them kindly. We’re not to hate or even pity Nobbs and his stupidity and kleptomania, but to see him as some sort of object lesson.

All in all, I think this is one of Pratchett’s best. I love that he entertains us while encouraging us to be open minded and kind. I love that he encourages the reader to play board games, read to children, and treat people with respect, but wraps that encouragement up in slap-stick, puns, word-play, and general silliness. Thud! is funny and smart and well worth a listen.