Publisher: Knopf; 1St Edition edition (July 27, 2010)
Did Not Finish
I enjoy Carl Hiaasen; have been reading his novels for years. Back in August, when I saw he had a new one published, I added myself to the library waiting list. Number 102 of 102 waiting. And I waited. And waited. And waited.
Last week, my turn finally came. I opened it eagerly and began to read. About two chapters in, I thought, "I'm really not into this!"
The story, as far as I got, is about a young pop star starting to spin out of control, her undercover double, and an icky paparazzi stalker. Skink, my favorite returning character is in it as well.
I read for an evening, dutifully, and made it 113 pages. As I turned out the light my thoughts were on how I dreaded picking it back up the next night. I'd waited so long for it. . .
Then it hit me. D'oh! Just because I've waited five months to read it doesn't mean I have to read it! I can admit defeat and go on; I've done it before, I can do it now!
I don't know that the book is really all that terrible, maybe it just isn't the season for me to be reading it. I don't remember Hiassen being so vulgar, crass and tawdry, though, so I'm thinking it's the subject matter that is my problem, and the reason for Hiaasen's more brash and unappealing writing style this go 'round.
Then, it could be that his novels have always been like that and my utter absorption of late into the world of gentler Victorian novels has made my tolerance for such way lower.
Either reason, or both, is good enough. The fact is, while I have enjoyed Hiassen in the past, I could not work up one grain of sympathy for any of the characters this time (including Skink). This one will go back to the library and the other fifty or so in line after me can have their chance at it.
(Hmmm. . . I just looked at Amazon. Out of 173 reviews, this book has a 3.5 star rating. Could be I'm not far off the mark in saying it isn't up to his standard.)