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A review by p_t_b
H is for Hawk by Helen Macdonald
2.0
two stars feels kind of mean BUT i am not allowed to give it 2.75 stars. i am an easy grader and secretly every book is on a scale of 1-100 and you get 95 stars just for writing a book so this is really a 97 out of a 100 (i feel guilty being mean to books, especially ones with amazing moments that don't work overall)
points to tackle in this review:
1) i do not understand or especially appreciate the emotional metabolism of ultra-english people. warning signs you are dealing with ultra-english person: the adjective "exquisite," being the kind of person who writes a weirdly spastic memoir about being a falconer. obviously this point has as much to do with my class animosity as it does with english people but you know what i mean. i just don't get a charge out of heavy english manners
2) some parts of this book are really good
3) the breathless descriptions of A Time the Hawk Ate Some Meat get super old super fast
4) on a serious criticism note, the reason i threw this book out the window (by which i mean stopped listening to the audiobook 2/3rds of the way threw) was that the author hadn't earned the stakes she was trying to play at -- I didn't understand at all why she was so devastated by her father's death. that sounds harsh, but she reaaaaallly takes it hard. also, TH white didn't seem to be an especially interesting person, or even a writer who stands up well to modern ears/eyes; he's definitely not heavy enough to hold down his side of the book.
5) i think i am mad at this book because it was the only audiobook i had to listen to during a 1,500 mile road trip and i really wanted to like it but instead just kept trying to get myself to dig it, when after a couple hours/hundred pages I could tell that it is a thoughtful, at moments brilliant book that is not to my taste
6) i still feel guilty abotu the two stars
7) may have had too much coffee on the last leg of road trip
points to tackle in this review:
1) i do not understand or especially appreciate the emotional metabolism of ultra-english people. warning signs you are dealing with ultra-english person: the adjective "exquisite," being the kind of person who writes a weirdly spastic memoir about being a falconer. obviously this point has as much to do with my class animosity as it does with english people but you know what i mean. i just don't get a charge out of heavy english manners
2) some parts of this book are really good
3) the breathless descriptions of A Time the Hawk Ate Some Meat get super old super fast
4) on a serious criticism note, the reason i threw this book out the window (by which i mean stopped listening to the audiobook 2/3rds of the way threw) was that the author hadn't earned the stakes she was trying to play at -- I didn't understand at all why she was so devastated by her father's death. that sounds harsh, but she reaaaaallly takes it hard. also, TH white didn't seem to be an especially interesting person, or even a writer who stands up well to modern ears/eyes; he's definitely not heavy enough to hold down his side of the book.
5) i think i am mad at this book because it was the only audiobook i had to listen to during a 1,500 mile road trip and i really wanted to like it but instead just kept trying to get myself to dig it, when after a couple hours/hundred pages I could tell that it is a thoughtful, at moments brilliant book that is not to my taste
6) i still feel guilty abotu the two stars
7) may have had too much coffee on the last leg of road trip