Ibid: A Life -- Mark Dunn

Disastrous Reading - or, What caused my reading slump.

Quite a while back, I read and loved Mark Dunn's Ella Minnow Pea. Imagine my happiness when I discovered that the library had another book by him—Ibid: A Life. Imagine my dismay when I discovered, 76 pages in, that I just couldn't read another page.

I should have known better—any book that consists only of footnotes of another (fictitious) book is bound to be annoying. It did have some really, really funny moments—looking back through the book, I marked a lot of pages. But ultimately, even with all of the funny bits, I wanted to find Mark Dunn and shake him. Or throw the book across the room. (Neither of which I did, because a) I don't know Mark Dunn, and b) it was a library book). I settled for returning the book to the library.

It wasn't that it was badly written. I just usually can't stand books that seem to be aware of themselves. (This is also why I can't stand Denzel Washington—I always get the feeling that he is playing Denzel Washington playing someone else. Hmmmmm. I might not be explaining this very well). I don't like it when I can imagine the author sitting at his desk, looking at a finished page, and chuckling, "I am so bloody clever. This will slay my readers." (This is why I can only read Tom Robbins once in a very great while. And Kurt Vonnegut, for that matter. Although Vonnegut strikes me as extremely crotchety, and less pleased with himself, so I don't find him as annoying).

Maybe Welcome to Higby will be better.