Though the beginning of the semester marks the return of assigned reading promising little more pleasure than the knowledge they contain, books can actually be a viable source of entertainment and mirth. For those who find themselves with the leisure time to crack open a book or two, The Eagle offers up the following reviews of books for potential perusal. Or, maybe it's better to stick to those econ assignments.
Although this book's jacket promises it will be "a riveting and provocative page-turner," it disappoints from the very beginning and only gets sloppier with each page. The book almost completely avoids any mention or debate of abortion, as the title would suggest, and instead focuses on other less controversial issues. Hyde also throws in a completely unnecessary and somewhat inappropriate relationship between a college freshman and a cop, as though she couldn't decide whether to write a mystery or a trashy romance novel.
The story is told both chronologically and through flashback. The characters, not even the victim, are developed enough to become three-dimensional and their flatness makes it difficult to care about what happens to them or the motives behind their actions. The ending of the book is actually difficult to stomach because it is so ridiculous.
Not even the mystery part of this book is very well-written. The murderer can easily be identified in the first 50 pages, and despite Hyde's weak attempts at distraction and misdirection, it is surprisingly easy to separate the red herrings from the real clues. Many of the loose ends are never tied up, namely the initial forensic evidence that shows that the victim had sex before she died, only to completely disregard that glaring fact. The writing is just messy.
Save the $15 on this book and instead pick up something by Dean Koontz. Even his worst books are far more engaging than this one.
Claire Messud is a beautiful writer. There is no denying that. However, she is so perfectly eloquent that sometimes it almost seems as though she took her original text and went through and hit "thesaurus" for every third word. Still, her prose is gorgeous and one is quickly sucked into the world she has created in her fourth book, "The Emperor's Children." It is a shame, however, that world is so empty.
Unfortunately, unlike her earlier writing-which really spoke to readers about something-this novel is merely an exercise in frivolity. The first 350 pages have no plot, and there is no resolution. The characters are absolutely unlikable, and become increasingly more so as the book progresses. The only one to be even remotely sympathetic is television producer Danielle, who is sleeping with her best friend's married father. Intellectually and socially inept Frederick "Bootie" Tubb is just plain weird. But none of them do anything; nothing, at all, for nearly 400 pages.
However, this lack of consequence is the point of the book, or at least Messud claims it is. Sept. 11 wraps up all the loose ends by fraying them until they are unrecognizable. It shows that all the things these characters thought mattered are really trivial in the new post-terror attack world.
Thus, the only serious problem with the novel is its book-within-a-book format. The reader gets the idea that the author most identifies with spoiled "It girl" Marina, who is desperate to finish her long overdue novel. But it is somewhat unclear where Marina's book ends and Messud's book begins, and therefore it is hard to tell whether the ending was really the intended resolution to the book or just a frantic attempt to finish an unbearable project that was not turning out how she hoped before deadline.
This book is great for those trying to build their vocabulary. Otherwise, pick up one of Messud's earlier novels instead.
