I have never read a John Grisham book. Gasp! Sigh! There...I said it. I even have a paperback copy of Grisham's novel, "A Time to Kill", that was given to me by a former student that has been sitting in my attic waiting to be read since 2006. I don't know what it is. I find myself looking at the book sometimes telling it that, "Its me, not you." Its not that I'm afraid of Grisham or that he writes about things I'm not interested in. I guess it was the ever-present "New York Times Best-Selling Author" title that accompanies his name that makes me so nervous or self-conscious. I just had this vision of me picking up a book of his and Flannery O'Connor watching me do so from a chair in the corner and then shaking her head at me. However, several weeks ago, my mom mailed us a package of goody's and in the package was this book with a note that said, "I know you don't have time to read, but when you do, read this."And I decided to flub my nose at Miss O'Connor and my pride and settle down each evening to the words of Mr. Grisham, a "New York Times Best-Selling Author". My mother after all is the one who retaught me to read and then introduced me to the difference between just reading and reading good books. And there is a difference. It is akin to the difference of watching someone kiss in a movie and actually kissing or looking at a picture of a sunset and seeing one from the top of a lone mountain ridge and feeling as if you are the last human among a planet older and larger than life itself.
It is odd how subjects move in cycles for me. Several years ago, it seemed like everything that made its way to me had something to do with cycling. Last year, it seemed like everything was about gardening and composting. But this year, it has been baseball. We have been to some games, we took Ford to his first game, the Braves made it to the post season, Ford and I have been making our way slowly through the Ken Burns documentary about baseball, and then my mom mailed me the book, Calico Joe, which was and is about baseball. So, 2012 may be an election year, but for me, it has been the year of baseball.
I will make two good observations and one bad observation about the book. We will start with the good. Calico Joe, is a very easy read and this was a nice change of pace for me since the only time I really get to read is right before I fall asleep and if you ask Mel, I am getting better and better at that. (This may NOT be a good thing.) Several years ago, I used to think that books that were "easy" to read were easy to write and thus made the author either lazy or not very-talented, but I think very differently about this now. I have seen many authors ranging from Steinbeck to Twain and many others who say that if it reads easy, it was very hard to write. And I guess that is true in most anything else. When you watch a professional anyone or anything, they make whatever they are doing look easy. If you took any time to watch the Olympic Games, you know what I'm talking about. If you didn't catch them, go to the Food Network, watch one episode of the Barefoot Contessa, then find that same recipe and try it at home. You will then understand. Or go find a poem written by John Keats or Emily Dickinson, read it several times, then go try to write a poem about the same subject and try to fit all that he or she does into the same amount of lines. I'd suggest starting with Keat's, Ode to a Nightingale. Calico Joe, is both an easy read and it is also an enjoyable read. There are times when you feel the book and the characters in the book are real because Grisham does such a fine job weaving real events that occurred in baseball's long and storied history with events that he made up. I enjoyed this facet of the book very much and am so glad I got to read this book. And if you like baseball, I would suggest this book. It makes you want to visit a ballpark or at least go pick up your glove and get in some throws before you go eat some Stove Top from Johnny's house.
Now for the bad...I really didn't care for most of the dialogue that was in this book. Each time it surfaced, for the most part, it felt contrived and forced. And please know I do not in any way think I know much of anything about writing in general or about writing dialogue. I do know that writing dialogue is exhausting and when you read it back to yourself, it all feels contrived, silly, and very forced. Many times, I would catch myself reading through the dialogue and asking myself if someone would really say that and I was left saying, "no". I wish that this wouldn't have been so because the dialogue really took away from the story rather than adding to it. All the people in the book spoke as you expected them to speak or spoke like characters in movies speak, not like people who breathe real air and interact with real, non-virtual people speak.
After reading this, I would say that I enjoyed the book. I would suggest the book. I would even go as far as to say that I might climb into my attic now that its not 150 degrees in the shade in middle Georgia now and get the Grisham book that I've kept locked away and place my beloved Indigo Bunting bookmark that I bought for $1 from the Birmingham Audubon Society seven years ago within its worn pages. Something I would suggest is reading Bernard Malamud's novel, The Natural, before or after this book and then comparing and contrasting the two. And I believe the teacher in me just came out, so I'd better finish off this post.
It is odd how subjects move in cycles for me. Several years ago, it seemed like everything that made its way to me had something to do with cycling. Last year, it seemed like everything was about gardening and composting. But this year, it has been baseball. We have been to some games, we took Ford to his first game, the Braves made it to the post season, Ford and I have been making our way slowly through the Ken Burns documentary about baseball, and then my mom mailed me the book, Calico Joe, which was and is about baseball. So, 2012 may be an election year, but for me, it has been the year of baseball.
I will make two good observations and one bad observation about the book. We will start with the good. Calico Joe, is a very easy read and this was a nice change of pace for me since the only time I really get to read is right before I fall asleep and if you ask Mel, I am getting better and better at that. (This may NOT be a good thing.) Several years ago, I used to think that books that were "easy" to read were easy to write and thus made the author either lazy or not very-talented, but I think very differently about this now. I have seen many authors ranging from Steinbeck to Twain and many others who say that if it reads easy, it was very hard to write. And I guess that is true in most anything else. When you watch a professional anyone or anything, they make whatever they are doing look easy. If you took any time to watch the Olympic Games, you know what I'm talking about. If you didn't catch them, go to the Food Network, watch one episode of the Barefoot Contessa, then find that same recipe and try it at home. You will then understand. Or go find a poem written by John Keats or Emily Dickinson, read it several times, then go try to write a poem about the same subject and try to fit all that he or she does into the same amount of lines. I'd suggest starting with Keat's, Ode to a Nightingale. Calico Joe, is both an easy read and it is also an enjoyable read. There are times when you feel the book and the characters in the book are real because Grisham does such a fine job weaving real events that occurred in baseball's long and storied history with events that he made up. I enjoyed this facet of the book very much and am so glad I got to read this book. And if you like baseball, I would suggest this book. It makes you want to visit a ballpark or at least go pick up your glove and get in some throws before you go eat some Stove Top from Johnny's house.
Now for the bad...I really didn't care for most of the dialogue that was in this book. Each time it surfaced, for the most part, it felt contrived and forced. And please know I do not in any way think I know much of anything about writing in general or about writing dialogue. I do know that writing dialogue is exhausting and when you read it back to yourself, it all feels contrived, silly, and very forced. Many times, I would catch myself reading through the dialogue and asking myself if someone would really say that and I was left saying, "no". I wish that this wouldn't have been so because the dialogue really took away from the story rather than adding to it. All the people in the book spoke as you expected them to speak or spoke like characters in movies speak, not like people who breathe real air and interact with real, non-virtual people speak.
After reading this, I would say that I enjoyed the book. I would suggest the book. I would even go as far as to say that I might climb into my attic now that its not 150 degrees in the shade in middle Georgia now and get the Grisham book that I've kept locked away and place my beloved Indigo Bunting bookmark that I bought for $1 from the Birmingham Audubon Society seven years ago within its worn pages. Something I would suggest is reading Bernard Malamud's novel, The Natural, before or after this book and then comparing and contrasting the two. And I believe the teacher in me just came out, so I'd better finish off this post.
Happy Reading,
David
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