o hand in hand

well, only a few shorts posts following the one on violence and the miike film, i'm again debating the merits of something violent. this time it's jerzy kosinski's the painted bird-- a book i was recommended while playing quizzo two weeks ago with my friend jen (quizzo is increasingly my favorite thing in the world). i'm really disliking the book, and it's lead me to do a little research into the various accounts of its falsehood as a memoir (most notably the one by norman finkelstein). not that "authenticity" is any gauge as to whether a book is good or bad. i guess i'm just inclined to try to rationalize my dislike for things that have a reputation for being "critically acclaimed" or whatever.

the book describes the gruesome life of a young child who has been separated from his family during WWII-- resulting in various sado-masochistic misadventures as he wanders through several eastern european villages. i'm 80 pages into it, and finding it unenlightening as a document of nazi occupation (or any such thing). instead, it reads a bit like sade minus the philosophy. but i'm judging a bit early on here-- i have little stamina for books i'm not enjoying/learning from. i'm a SLOW reader, and i have a million books i'd like to get around to. so, uh, when blogspeak gets the comments section back in order, if anyone wants to try to persuade me to stick with this one, i'd be glad to hear the reasoning.