A Modest Construct

Posts tagged `satire`

¶ More Information Than You Require

More Information Than You Require by John Hodgman: Publisher: Dutton; Year: 2008; Pages: 368

You may recall that I was less than impressed with John Hodgman’s previous book, The Areas of My Expertise. At the time, at least in comparison to his appearances on The Daily Show, which were concise and humorous, I found his writing to be a little too unfocused, despite its stated aim as a compendium of entirely fictional (and apparently random) knowledge. This opinion got me flak from what appeared to be a vocal supporter, but I persist in my assertion that the book was subpar.

Unfortunately, I must issue a substantially similar opinion this time around. More Information Than You Require is in every sense of the word a continuation of The Areas of My Expertise—even going so far as to number its pages starting with the last page of its successor.

Here, I think, is my issue with Hodgman’s books: almost always, when I laugh, it’s because of the sheer randomness of the text. Otherwise, I don’t see what Hodgman’s trying to accomplish: I don’t feel as though the book is satire, because he’s not really pointing out any kind of absurdity in the things he talks about. Neither is it parody, except in a very general sense as it pertains to reference books. So what is Hodgman doing? The most impressive and clever thing he accomplish is constant self-reference, including reference to his previous book. If ever someone cultivated a thriving ecosystem of in-jokes and footnotes, it’s Hodgman, but the end result is ultimately fulsome: the jokes of pomposity and grandiloquence is only funny for a limited time and in a limited scope, after which it becomes a rather tedious exercise in the occasional droll witticism. This sequel lacks even the novelty of Hodgman’s first compendium, since it’s really nothing more than another comparable slice of the same shtick.

If you liked Areas of My Expertise, you will almost assuredly enjoy More Information Than You Require; if you didn’t, the opposite holds true. If you are new to John Hodgman, I can’t personally recommend his books, but there’s certaintly no accounting for taste. If the two, I think Areas of My Expertise is the more novel, so you may want to start with that one.

§2987 · November 7, 2008 · 3 comments · Tags: Book Reviews, books, humor, memes, reviews, satire

¶ Hocus Pocus

Hocus Pocus by Kurt Vonnegut: Publisher: Berkley Trade; Year: 1997; Pages: 336

Written in 1990, Hocus Pocus may be considered one of Vonnegut’s “later” works, his most famous stuff having been written in the 1960s and 1970s. But the book still has a particular staying power, even if reading it in 2008 makes it seem somewhat antiquated, as though Vonnegut was still writing a 1960s novel in 1997.

The story of Hocus Pocus revolves around the character of Eugene Debs Hartke, Vonnegut’s portmanteau of a famous socialist and a famous anti-war Senator. To describe the basic plot of Hocus Pocus in the crudest and simplest of terms, Eugene is a man to whom shit happens. More importantly, this shit happens entirely because of Time and Luck, two capital-letter forces whose influence is both pervasive and undeniable.

¶ Mostly Harmless

Mostly Harmless by Douglas Adams: Publisher: Del Ray; Year: 2000; Pages: 240

It may to behoove you to read my review of the previous book in this series, So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish

The fact that five books does not a trilogy make is not lost on either the publishers or author of Mostly Harmless. Some printings of the book label it as the fifth installment of the “increasingly inaccurately named Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy trilogy.” For my own part, I happen to think that series more or less tanked after the third book, and from what I read, the author’s opinion doesn’t stray too far from my own.

Mostly Harmless is a bleak book; it ends poorly, and not at all in the way that such things should. It is also extraordinarily random, harking back past the unintelligible Bridget-Jones-on-acid nonsense that was So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish. In true Adams style, it finds several quantum versions of Trillian (Fenchurch having extraordinarily disappeared for good), Ford Prefect, and Arthur Dent crisscrossing both the galaxy (spatial), time (temporal), and extra-sensory dimension (?) in an odd quest with little explanation, less purpose, and no sort of half-decent ending whatsoever.

Really, it’s rubbish. Even Adams, apparently, despaired at the bleak note with which he ended it. I’m less concerned with the bleak note and more with the relative paucity of humour in the damn thing. A sixth was in nebulous form in Adams notes when he died in 1991, but we’ll never know what it would have been, beyond a few sketchy chapters.

Mostly Harmless, like its immediate predecessor, felt like nothing more than a tribute to running gags: a lot of references to the popular first three books, with a tenuous connecting thread from which Adams attempted to prise a coherent plot. He failed. Sorry, but the book was rubbish. It left me cold on any one of a number of levels, slightly cheated, and wanting to go read something funny or substantial to wash the taste of failed satire out of my mouth.

Really, avoid it. Even for the mere couple of hours it’ll take to get through it, it will only aggravate you and leave you questioning the literary legacy of a dead man. Let it go.

§1988 · February 23, 2008 · 1 comment · Tags: Book Reviews, books, fiction, humor, reviews, satire, science fiction

¶ So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish

So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish by Douglas Adams: Publisher: Del Ray; Year: 1999; Pages: 224

It may behoove you to first read my review of the previous book Life, the Universe, and Everything.

There are trilogy purists—my high school biology teacher is one of them, as I recall—who ardently insist that the Hitchhiker trilogy should never have gone past three books; that the final two are utter rubbish, unsuited to the title. I don’t remember much about books 4 and 5 from when I first read them, many moons ago, but after rereading So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish, I’m inclined to agree with.

You might recall that even the third book, Life, the Universe, and Everything, began to approach a critical mass of incomprehensibility. But it, at least, was a genuine space opera, and one could easily find Adams’ jokes. So Long…, by contrast, is 90% set on a reconstituted earth, where Arthur Dent falls head over heels in love with an English lass named Fenchurch, and we are completely unsurprised when she reciprocates. What about Trillian? Adams later dismissed her—and by proxy, the previous three books—with a sentence or two. Thanks, Doug.

I would even be OK with the poncey love story if it were merely one facet of the book, but that’s all the book is. There are little snatches of Ford Prefect in some random galaxy, and again at the end, and dent finally goes back into space in the last chapter, but really, Adams could well have just called this book Arthur Dent Gets Laid (and other running gags). The book is a vehicle for running jokes from the previous books, without introducing new content; it’s the Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back of the Adams canon.

Dolphins are an intelligent species that left prior to the earth’s destruction? Been there. Fenchurch is the minor character mentioned in the paragraph at the very beginning of the trilogy and promptly forgotten? Check. A lot more of the whole “flying is forgetting to hit the ground” joke? Check. Token Ford Prefect one-liners? Check. Conclude the book with a minor joke/plot point from the previous novel for some weak sense of continuity? Check.

Really, what a load of rubbish. Why did Douglas Adams ruin a perfectly good trilogy with this? It’s like the straight-to-video sequels to famous movies that have none of the same actors and 1/100th of the budget. I’m reading them because I’m a completist, and maybe you’ll feel the some way, but if you’re a casual Adams fan, I’d stick to the first three and not bother.

§1984 · February 17, 2008 · 1 comment · Tags: Book Reviews, books, fiction, humor, reviews, satire, science fiction

¶ Our Dumb World

Our Dumb World by The Onion: Publisher: Little, Brown and Company; Year: 2007; Pages: 256

The Onion has long been known as one of the snarkiest satirical rags around, first in its print form, and later as a website. They also put out damn books damn near yearly, either archives or original compilations of new material. Their latest, Our Dumb World is a fictional atlas.

After the success of Jon Stewart’s America: The Book, there is something to be said for humour books which explicitly take the form of education texts. In Stewart’s case, the form was a high school social studies textbook; in The Onion’s case, it’s an atlas, though lighter on maps and heavier on sidebars than a traditional atlas.

Grouped into sections like “North America,” “The Middle East,” and “Asia,” these regions are further divided into countries, and in the cases of America, even further into states. Each entry has a map with a meaningless legend, as well as meaningless text pointing to equally meaningless spots on the map. There is an introductory blurb of text, “Facts” at a glance, and a panel for the nation’s history, as well. In the top of the page are thumbnail images, sometimes accompanied by (humourous) explanatory text.

The Good: I’m blown away by the amount of effort it must have taken to compile this book; the image selection, the minutiae, the word choice. Since basically each single instance of text comprises a joke, it’s impressive that I don’t recall the writers ever specifically repeating a joke. This, in a book with what amounts to thousands of jokes.

Also, it’s funny. The Onion‘s writers have a mastery of satire and a keen grasp of the quirks of humanity.

The Bad: Some items got repetitive. Every entry in Africa, for instance, gave basically the same impression. The jokes were different, but the point the same. It is, in all likelihood, a valid point (i.e. many/most African nations are plagued by corruption, civil war, and poor infrastructure), but broad criticism delivered many times for individual constituents can get old. So can the tiny, tiny type, which began to give me headaches if I read too long.

The jokes could get pretty extreme. I realize they were always making a point (No “How can you fit 100 Jews into an ashtray” kind of jokes), and I was never offended, you might want to stay away if you’re got more delicate sensibilities. Actually, if you’ve got delicate sensibilities, you probably shouldn’t be reading anything by The Onion anyway, so perhaps the point is moot.

§1974 · February 9, 2008 · 2 comments · Tags: Book Reviews, books, economics, memes, politics, reviews, satire