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by Yan Martel
In a word (or two or three): skeptical? so am i.
From Mr. Hipster:
My initial feeling before reading this
book was that if it was handled incorrectly, it could be a disaster.
Worse than being a disaster, it could be deadly boring. Boy, was I
right. I guess I'm not sure what wins you the Man Booker Prize, but
in this case it must have been a seriously aggressive public relations
campaign, cuz this was not a very good book. It promised to "make
you believe in God." I must say, I was certainly praying to him
to make this thing go somewhere interesting. Endless pages about this
kid avoiding a tiger in a lifeboat got old real quick. While I imagined
the book would take a cerebral turn at some point and make some great
points about faith and spirit (and anything remotely ethereal), it
gets repeatedly bogged down in the mundane details of collecting rainwater,
defecation and sleeping conditions. No matter how hard I tried, I
could not picture what the hell the author was talking about when
describing the boat and how everything on it related to each other
(there were oar locks and tarps, boxes, benches, etc.--and none of
it made much sense in his description.) Martel so much as admits he's
a "hack" in his introduction, and I think he has somehow
elevated himself to "talented charlatan hack" status with
this one. I guess I do believe in God after reading this book. I believe
he works in mysterious ways by making this bore of a book an award-winning
bestseller. Either that or Martel sold his soul to the other guy for
fifteen minutes of fame. Trust me, his follow-up will get trashed.
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