Introduction:
I am probably not the best person to be reviewing fiction. I hope that changes. Generally, I prefer rigorous non-fiction
books. Usually fiction and stories do
not have the ability to hold my attention.
Maybe that means I shouldn’t be reviewing this. However, I have found at least a few books
about dogs captivating, such as Call of the Wild, White Fang, and Where the Red
Fern Grows. I understand that these
intellectual traits probably make me in the minority of people. However, I desire to get into pop
fiction. To me pop fiction probably
presents a way for me to get into something I like.
Usually, people start with what is normal and popular, and
then sometimes move onto something more obscure. For example, few people ever start out
listening to jazz. Most of the time
people start out with popular music, especially if they come from a family that
does not regularly listen to something more sophisticated like jazz. For me, music has been a journey, going back
to when I didn’t have a clue. There once
was a time when I listened to Naughty By Nature, but then I moved on to Aerosmith
and the Steven Miller Band, only to move onto Megadeth and Metallica. To be sure, some people’s tastes never evolve
past being childlike. By my senior year
of high school, I was playing jazz, but I had yet to find what I really liked
in the music. So, for me there was
gradual progression toward more sophisticated music, because at the heart of my
soul, I am an intellectual. Most people
aren’t. In fact, most people don’t like
intellectuals, just look at where I stand on my review account at www.amazon
.com. Sometimes I wonder if I am ranked
dead last at www.amazon.com.
As a general rule, I am not a dog person. I have read that women are generally
attracted to men that like dogs, especially the kind that they might meet
taking a dog for a walk. I love
cats. I haven’t had a dog since I was a
child, and at that it wasn’t my dog. So
my experience with a dog that I can relate is with a blackish grey animal that
my parents had named, “Pooh.” I have
always been uncertain if it was my mom that named the dog that because the
color of his fur reminded her of feces.
Mom would never admit to doing something like that. It is just that I have suspicions of her that
she likes to do things like that.
So, a cat is to me, what a dog is to the narrator. Cats love me.
Cats visit me. Sometimes cats
groom me. Cats sometimes wag their tail
when I pet them. Cats are known to sleep
next to me. Often, cats come when I call
them. Cats talk with me. It is as if I am able to have a conversation
with a cat, exchanging meows of endearment.
I even had a cat that seemed to want to protect me. Shiloh, my cat, was very friendly with me,
but with my wife, he would take a swing at her seemingly attempting to protect
me. If I met a feral cat that lived off
the local land, I wouldn’t be surprised if that cat would let me pet him. Once, I got a pet a lion. It has long been my desire to have a pet
lion, but I know that it can never be.
Lions by nature groom people that they like. It is as a habit for a cat to groom another
cat, or a person they like, and well if a cat as big as a lion ever licked me,
it would probably take my skin right off because of the way cats’ tongues are
constructed. As some people would have
it, the goal of man is to do things like reconstruct the cat through breeding,
such that it is optimized. I don’t like
that. I like cats as they are. And, it is thus such that I will almost
certainly never be able to have a full size lion because lion’s don’t make good
pets. However, I have my cats, and I
love to encourage them to be as wild as possible. I would never have a male cat castrated.
As far as non-fiction is concerned, I would say that I am
far from a rookie, but when it comes to literature stories, I don’t really have
much experience. I hardly ever watch television. The truth is, I haven’t watched television
regularly since 9th grade of high school, and by the time I got to
my Freshman year of college, I was hardly ever at the movie theater. Now I am in my mid-thirties and there is a part of me that calls, saying,
“You really can’t be a holistic person with a comprehensive approach to life
unless you have some knowledge of the popular fiction stories of the day.” I have tried to get into several fiction
books. My wife reads them regularly, but
I seem to always read a few pages only to get more bored with each successive
page. In fact, she has read Marley and Me.
Having read a few other dog books and seen a few other dog
movies, it occurred to me that maybe I could find a window back into the world
of stories other than those in the Bible.
It occurred to me that I would be unable to get through a fiction book
even though we had this one. Yet, when I
was browsing through books at the local library I saw this one. I picked it up, and thought, “Maybe there
hope for me to become interested in stories again.”
Review:
The more realistic the story, generally the better I like
it. Okay! I admit that there are exceptions, such as
Star Wars. There is nothing fantastic
about this work, and that is one probably the greatest reasons why I have been
able to sit through the whole thing. The
other reason is that it is an audio book.
After finishing the first cd, I decided that I would have put this one
down if I was to read it as a book. However,
the narrator assisted me, not slowing down and tiring out, such that I could
put it down, but I didn’t. Even if at
times, I was getting bored, the narrator would read on where I would have put
down the book.
I am a man on a mission.
I would like to enjoy fiction again.
I enjoyed fiction when I was a child, before the age of 18 that is, but
then it became boring to me. The
narrator assisted me. When it got
boring, I all I had to do was let the cd continue to run, and hope for more interesting
sections.
The book was written in the first person. It is from the point of the dog’s owner, who
is in fact very different from me, at first.
In judgment of him, I thought his character was pathetic. What kind of man castrates? So, in my opinion, I saw it as sweet justice
when he was no longer able to get an erection.
It is no wonder that Gd brought him a miscarriage instead of a
baby. His thoughts were rather small,
and his language simple and trite.
However, I was able to like this book because I could imagine many
people relating to this man.
In short, he was an average Joe. He didn’t speak above anyone. This is a book I imagine most literate
children would be able to read. In my
case, that is a plus, as when it comes to enjoying fiction, I am out of
practice. Comparing the narrator to
myself, this book provided what I thought a good fiction book should provide, a
believable reality escape, possessing the qualities of reality, especially a
different reality than that which I am familiar with.
By disc 2, I was starting to enjoying the story. I appreciated the story of the failed
pregnancy. These were sections of
stories that I related to. However, I
felt like I had a steak pulled out from my teeth when I found out how short
this section was. Clearly, this wasn’t a
man that deserved to have a baby, such that when Gd brought him a miscarriage
it was much to my enjoyment, and it furthered the view I was gaining of him as
a common and despicable man that this miscarriage seemed to be practically
inconsequential. He was but a half a
man, and the bitter facts of his reality, such that his dog was less than
desirable, seem to all be according to the way I would expect that Gd would have
a relationship with someone like him, a life full of mishaps that seemingly
come from a chaotic rather than an ordered reality. By the end of disc 2, I was getting bored
again.
So if you have gotten this far in the reading of my review,
and have been able to hold your desire to smite me, the most common way people
relate to me, you might wonder what my criteria are for even giving a book a
starred review. In this case, I deemed
prior to listening that if I actually got through the book, I would give it 3
stars. That being said, this one made
it, although I do admit, just when it seems to be getting good, it gets boring,
and just when it seems to be really boring, something catches my ear that seems
interesting, gaining my attention.
Sometimes it seems like I detect a hint of annoyance in the readers
voice, which seemingly comes from nowhere, but is quite humorous. It is as if he is saying through his teeth,
“I am reading this because I have to, and I am full of hate, and wish I could
be doing something better.” Sometimes,
he seems like he is gaining in enthusiasm with the rhythms of his
delivery. It is hard to speculate about
the unpredictable nature of the author’s delivery. Sometimes it seems as if he is a saint. Sometimes it seems as if he is half a man. Sometimes it seems as if he is hell bent on
creating another smutty book, full of the vulgarity that would entertain a
naughty child in the same way that morons try to gain attention through shocking
words like, “Vagina, blood, and young girl, dying, and innuendos like potluck (conjuring
images of people smoking marijuana),” and phrases like, “A teenage girl in a
blood soaked blouse.” 3 stars!
Perhaps, the greatest aspect of this book and its subtle use
of smut is that it will interest junior high school boys in girls in reading,
such that they skip over the boring parts and head straight for the junk. By disc 4 the content is really cookin’ up a
crime, and is hardly anymore a story about a man and his dog, but a story about
the author’s affinity for young women. I
have said before that in my opinion most young adults from the ages of 14yrs to
21yrs just want to be bad. Sometimes
this is referred to as teen angst. This
is only natural. My own personal opinion
is that it is okay to share some smut with youngsters, especially if it interests
them in something positive like learning to read, or the arts, but I had to
wonder if he considered his target audience to be that of 12yr old girls with
the hope that they would fall in love with him.
That is I believe in the same way that there is practically no such
thing as music that is totally bad, there is hardly an example of a book that
causes people to read that has no redeeming qualities. Then, after he exhausts the id of the
teeny-boppers, he returns more adult material on disc 5.
Marley and Me is not a book for people that love dogs in the
truest sense in my opinion. This is a
book for people that love domestic dogs.
It is not until chapter 20 that I hear the true call of the wild in
Marley and Me.
When I see the dogs that are for commonly for sale, even at
discount prices, I see these dogs as perversely morphed freak animals. They aren’t right though I do believe we
should love them just the same. Through
strange breeding methods they have been morphed into freakish looking animals
that would almost certainly die if forced to live in the wild. Marley is not a wild dog. Marley is but a misbehaved dog, but he is an
animal nonetheless and worthy of love. I
guess that is the point.
When I see a dog that catches my soul, it is usually at the
zoo, an animal deemed not fit to be a pet.
I have seen wild dogs not at the zoo, ones that could have possibly
attacked me and killed me, and that is the way a dog should be. Dogs eat meat, and they don’t just eat it,
they guzzle it. A dog is the type of
animal domesticated people feel a certain amount fear of. The type of dog that I personally espouse
would probably eat a child, or even me if a pack of them were given a
chance. Thus, Marley and Me is no Dances
with Wolves, referring to the movie with Kevin Costner.
When I think of a dog, it is bittersweet to think of the
domesticated dog. When I see a
domesticated dog, what comes to my mind is the pimp and hooker relationship, as
the dog is merely a device for men and women to meet each other buy. Thus, in this case, the John, defined as a
person who buys a hooker, is really intended to be a woman. These are young men, and as John Grogan
starts out as a hooker of a man, through his relationship with Marley, it seems
as the pages go by Marley brings out the best in him. I like wolves, and for that reason, and I
have to admit, Marley and Me never really stood a chance to win my highest
praise for that reason. Marley was not a
wolf, and he just couldn’t be one.
Men are not naturally tamers. It is women that seem to be the man tamers,
well maybe. It is around women and
babies that most men’s testosterone levels fall. I can’t claim to understand the psychology of
women. Is it that they like it this way. Women do not seem to gravitate toward tame
men, if they have the ability to choose.
So, is the purpose of woman to tame a man, as it seems to happen always? I think it is not. Why?
Because I believe in the words of the Bible, where Gd says to Adam when
He creates Eve, “I will make a helper suitable for you.” Thus, in my view, a wife is a helper. In Hebrew, Eve and woman are synonyms. If you aren’t honest with yourself, as a man,
you will end up domesticated, but if you love your wife and are honest with
her, then she will help you find within your soul the man that you can be,
wild, and yet possessing attributes such as loving-kindness. It is thus such that women either grow a man
into a beast, or they turn them into children.
Thus, I believe women are designed for men to assist them become who
they really are, bringing men to philosophical agreement through ideas such as,
“Do unto others as you will have them do unto you.” In this case, for the author, his dog is his
helper.
Lastly, the ending of this book is too long, and too drawn
out. If I could tell the author anything
it would be, “Get to the point and finish it,” but instead he tries to use
every possible trite emotional hook in the book. He should just come out and say, “I want you
to cry for me, and I’m going to do my damnedest to do make you do it.” If I were a youngster, I would have fallen
for these hooks, and they would have tugged at my heart. However, my end feeling was that the author
got annoying in his attempt to pull a tear jerker using all the tricks of stories
already written.
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