Armchair Audies Category Report: Solo Narration - Male

The Audies are this week! You know what that means, dear readers: much Armchair Audies posting about them now, but then I'll shush a bit for a year. (Ha. I will not.)

Here's the slate of nominees for Solo Narration - Male:

BEING THERE Jerzy Kosinski Read by Dustin Hoffman (Audible, Inc.) Read the review
THE ABSOLUTIST John Boyne Read by Michael Maloney (Tantor Media) Read the review
BEAUTIFUL RUINS Jess Walter Read by Edoardo Ballerini (Harper Audio) Read the review
THE END OF THE AFFAIR Graham Greene Read by Colin Firth (Audible, Inc.) Read the review
THE TAO OF POOH Benjamin Hoff Read by Simon Vance (Tantor Media) Read the review

Now, I've already commented on each of these separately (Being There, The Absolutist, Beautiful Ruins, The End of the Affair, The Tao of Pooh), so I won't go too much into it. But I'll say this: we're looking here for "distinction in audiobooks" here. And for me, one of those parameters is, do I think this is more compelling than the text alone would be? Another: does the narrator do so good a job that I start looking for more narration by him (or her, but that's n/a in this category) and pick up audiobooks I wouldn't necessarily have looked at otherwise?

Beautiful Ruins succeeds magnificently on both scores. I actually started this book on paper, and didn't

get very into it before the library due date, so I returned it. But it was part of The Rooster competition, so I went back to it in audio, and oh, baby. It's grand. Ballerini brings such life to Walter's text (which I should have given a fairer chance, as it's quite magnificent and you should read or listen to it if you haven't already.) So Ballerini is my pick for the win, and it will be a very well-deserved one. (It's also up for Audiobook of the Year, and I'm expecting it to take that, too.)

2nd place: Maloney reading The Absolutist. It's a great book, very well read.

Then Firth reading The End of the Affair, then Hoffman reading Being There, and finally - and I know this is a shocking thing, but the book: blah and Piglet: gah - Vance reading The Tao of Pooh.

(Sorry, Simon Vance! You're still my #1 audio crush! Read different things and I'm there.)

Armchair Audies Category Report: Literary Fiction

Time for me to get all judgemental for the Armchair Audies! Herein is my opinion about the Audies 2013, Literary Fiction category. The nominees are:
(note: if you click the "Read the review" links below, you'll get to a site with a sound sample of the book, too.)

REMEMBER BEN CLAYTON Stephen Harrigan Read by George Guidall (Recorded Books) Read the review
HEFT Liz Moore Read by Kirby Heyborne, Keith Szarabajka(Blackstone Audiobooks) Read the review
BRING UP THE BODIES Hilary Mantel Read by Simon Vance (Macmillan Audio) Read the review
THE REMAINS OF THE DAY Kazuo Ishiguro Read by Simon Prebble (Tantor Media) Read the review
THE END OF THE AFFAIR Graham Greene Read by Colin Firth (Audible, Inc.) Read the review

Last year when I participated in this fun venture for the Teens and Narration by Author categories, I set this as my criteria: The Audies site says only that the awards recognize "distinction in audiobooks and spoken word entertainment," which is a pretty broad basis for judging. Production values, narrative technique, ability to engage the listener, preferably in a way that makes listening to a title even better than reading it would be - it's all part of the package, in my opinion. Balancing that, is just that ephemeral thing: what I like. 

So it's easy for me to say: NOT Remember Ben Clayton. This is the first book in, oh, ages and ages that I haven't finished. I did give it 5 discs (out of 14) before I gave up, so I listened to about as much of Guidall's narration as I did of the shorter books in this category. I can say that I wouldn't have gotten further in the print book - it wasn't the narration that failed. The book is not interesting. It tries, and it fails, to sweep me into a grand historical setting with wars and travel and artists and lonesome cowboys with mysterious kidnapped-by-Comanches pasts. (See, so many elements! And yet they just didn't speak to each other, or to me.) Guidall handled it all just fine, but he never seemed any more enthusiastic about the material than I was, and it was neither distinctive nor entertaining, if I'm using the APA's criteria. 

4th place in this category, but leaps and bounds and tall buildings and maybe a couple of complete cityscapes above the Harrigan is Heft. I definitely enjoyed Moore's tale which gradually - delightfully gradually - pulls together two unlikely recluses. Kel and Arthur are both intriguing characters, and Heyborne and Szarabajka (in particular) bring a lot of life to them. There's something, though, and I'm annoyed with my inability to articulate it, that was just enough 'off' for me about the book that I opted against writing about it at the time I read it. And for months afterwards - even though it was highlighted in my spreadsheet as one that I intended to review. I think it's the fact that I heard so much buzz about Moore's novel, lots of positive noise, so I was expecting to be wowed. I wasn't wowed. I LIKE it. I'd encourage you to pick it up - I know Arthur will stick with you and alter your brainwaves a little - but I wasn't wowed. So as distinctive as Szarabajka was, and as proficient as Heyborne was, they didn't elevate the book beyond the text. I could read this in print and not always have their voices in my head, which I just can't do with the top 3 in this category.

Since I can't decide, and it's my blog and I'll do what I want, I'm declaring a 2nd place tie between The End of the Affair and The Remains of the Day. I reviewed both of these here in March, so I won't rehash too much, but I'll tell you this: YUM! Both of these older books are so well-written, and you should all read them right now. Or better yet, listen to them, because Firth and Prebble both bring such life to their narrations. Distinctive? Check! (I definitely can't read either of these without hearing the narrators' voices in my head.) Entertaining? Double check! (Firth is sneakily calm about the emotions in Greene's novel, and Prebble just revels in the reserve and fish-out-of-waterness of Ishiguro's butler.) These are both real treats to listen to, and I wouldn't have without the Armchair Audies project, so I'm very glad to be able to tell you how great they are.

And that means the winner, by another little hop over a skyscraper, is Bring Up the Bodies. (And I do NOT know what is wrong with me, not to have blathered on and on about Mantel's novels here. I blather on about them elsewhere - both of her Cromwell novels won the Booker, and I was very into them for the past couple Tournament of Books. Somehow I never mentioned them here. So, first of all, such gorgeous language, such complex but fascinating characters with tricks and twists and an amazing grasp of Cromwell's times. Mantel writes the HELL out of her subject, and I will devour the third as eagerly as I did the first two, I'm sure. And as long as Vance is the narrator, I'll devour it via audio, too. He is a magician with this material - and no, I'm not just saying that because of my long-standing devotion to the guy's voice! This narration just proves how right I am to follow Vance from genre to genre - he has that quality that makes the listener eager to hear what else he's done. The voice differentiations here were particularly well-done, each person not only distinct, but perfectly suited to the character. I was distinctively entertained, and 24 hours of listening flew by. This is the clear winner, and I do hope that the APA agrees come awards night.

Affairs! Colin Firth! (Sorry, Got Carried Away There)

The End of the Affair by Graham Greene
(Originally published 1951, this version published 2012, Audible, Inc.)
Format: Audible download (narrated by Colin Firth)

From Goodreads: Graham Greene’s evocative analysis of the love of self, the love of another, and the love of God is an English classic that has been translated for the stage, the screen, and even the opera house. Academy Award-winning actor Colin Firth turns in an authentic and stirring performance for this distinguished audio release.

The End of the Affair, set in London during and just after World War II, is the story of a flourishing love affair between Maurice Bendrix and Sarah Miles. After a violent episode at Maurice’s apartment, Sarah suddenly and without explanation breaks off the affair. This very intimate story about what actually constitutes love is enhanced by Firth’s narration, who said 'this book struck me very, very particularly at the time when I read it and I thought my familiarity with it would give the journey a personal slant.'

Mmmm, Colin Firth. 

Okay, fine, I'll make the review more substantive than that. This is up for the Solo Narration - Male category of the Audies awards, and it's my sacred duty as an #ArmchairAudies reviewer to give you the skinny on why I kept forgetting to do my job so I could listen to this book. (Good thing it was only 6.5 hours long.)

My husband (follow him on Twitter!) is a big Greene fan, so I've picked up on the guy through marital osmosis, but I can't say that I've set out to read him independently before. Mistake on my part, as it turns out. Smart, subtle writing, and such deceptively complex characters. You think they're one easily-graspable thing, but the deeper Greene goes (and deep he does go), the more each layer unfurls. And breadth as well as depth! Don't dismiss the rationalist as just a plot obstacle for Bendrix, he'll come straight at you from left field. And did you see what happened there, with Sarah and her mother and God? You had no clue, did you? 

And I could sense Firth's enjoyment, especially of Bendrix. He approached the narration with a calm, almost under-stated attitude that really suited the overly-introspective Bendrix. But the passion for Sarah, the agony of their separation and uncertainty when they met again - it was all there. Obviously (you may not know me well, Dear Reader, but you can believe that at any given moment I'm as likely to be watching the BBC adaptation of Pride & Prejudice as I am to be doing anything else, bar reading. Or, like, my job, sleeping, that stuff) I am a Firth fan. I think he can do with his voice what Maggie Smith can do with her face - barely alter it but load each micro-change with macro-importance. He can play broad, too, a sweeping comic or dramatic turn, but this book was narrow, quiet, intense, passionate, and gorgeous.

Yep. I liked it, very much.

Friday the 13th

I'm not normally scared of Jason showing up in his hockey mask or anything, but I'm not above attributing bad stuff to the random coinciding of a number and a day of the week. Still, my Friday the 13th started off just fine, not like that one a couple of months ago when I spent 4 hours being audited by the Department of Public Safety. I'm enough over the jet lag (just back from visiting my mother-in-law) that I finally felt like I'd had a good night's sleep. It wasn't, for once, storming like - well, like Houston in July - so I was able to make my commute using actual visibility instead of sense-memory to guide me down I-10. I started a new paperback while on the treadmill, and almost, but didn't quite, lose my awesome Butterfly Creations bookmark when it fell onto the machine and rolled inexorably along the gap between belt and side rail before safely hurtling itself onto the floor behind me.

So after I finished treading and marked my place in Sherry Thomas's Beguiling the Beauty (which I'm happy to say I had fun with - I'd read good things at SBTB, but am on-again-off-again with her work), I headed to the gym showers. (Oh, gym showers. Nothing against the showers themselves - my hair has a very peculiar affinity for their foamy wash and conditioner - but even after 2 months of regular attendance, I'm just no closer to comfort with the whole blase nudity thing. There is just no reconciling my writing and reading matter with my prudish nature.)

So I retreated to a corner, attempting to dry myself while remaining somewhat covered with towels, and in the process managed to totally forget that I had dropped the drawer of my desk on my toe the night before when I was rearranging my study. Oops. Ouch. Ouch, ouch, quadruple ouch. Drying my toes has never been more painful. The middle one, in particular, was nothing but a mess of purple and black bruises. But I am, as you may not know, a very stalwart individual, and I limped off to work with barely a wince or a moan or a 'take pity on me, strangers, can't you see my pain?' histrionic.

And then at work, I was doing my most audio-friendly tasks (entering numbers from pieces of paper onto the computer. It's a lot of what I do, hence a lot of audiobooks at work for me) and was, despite my pain, very excited to start Deborah Harkness's Shadow of Night, her follow-up to A Discovery of Witches. It captivated me from the get-go, and I fleetingly thought that by taping and icing my toes, and enjoying this narration, my day would turn out just fine. No lurking chainsaws anywhere. But then... my MP3 player died. Well, as it turns out, it was just in a coma, but still, I had to go so very long, through so many papers, before it revived.

May as well have been in a cabin in the woods with no power and a psycho killer lurking outside.

I was still limping, wincing, moaning, and bruised on the way home, so I had it checked out - a sprain (I do have super-strong bones as well as a vast store of forbearance against pain. Or at least one of those things.) More tape, more ice, plenty of time to read while I waited for the x-rays to be analyzed. I staunchly persevered. At home, I couldn't walk the dogs like they wanted, but I curled up on the sofa and finished the Thomas book, sort of went to bed on time, and got up on Saturday expecting a nice, lazy, Jason-free day. Ha.

I mentioned the storms, right? Well, before the storms moved in for the day, the doorbell rang. It was a clear morning and no longer Friday the 13th, so answering to the stranger outside was okay. It was just the power company's tree trimmers. They come by frequently, since the neighbor I share a back fence with has masses of fast-growing bamboo under the power lines. (In case you're planning to landscape your yard, let me advise against this. It may do a good job of hiding an unsightly fence or wire, but it also tends to result in lots of disconcerting explosive popping and brownouts.) I let them into the back yard and went about my day. Just as the rain was starting, my internet went out. So did my tv reception. So did my phone line.

And then the thunder, and the pounding rain.

And let's not forget the people in my back yard with chain saws.

(To be fair, although they did idiotically cut the line to my phone box - which also holds those other services - they did pack up the chainsaws and go home when the thunder started.)

And then the power went out.

So I'm alone in the house, in the dark (-ish, it was noon) with no power (thank goodness my Kindle was charged up), no landline (my mobile was charged, too), no protection (okay, the dogs are giant and bark plenty, but would they really rip through a hockey mask for me? I've seen no proof of that to date.) And I'm limping.

(This was not a good time to start reading a book about being stalked by a mass murderer. Just a friendly tip from me to you.)

The power did come back on quickly, which is a good thing, because I've been eating a lot of frozen meals to avoid cooking for one and doing dishes while I await my family's return (tomorrow. Yay!) (Did I mention that our dishwasher is broken? Yes, my life, it is truly difficult.)


This sorry state of affairs continued through today, when the phone guy made it out (doorbell, stranger, back yard, repeat) to replace the line, which took the poor guy hours. At least he arrived after the daily rain storm. And although I discovered that I can't access any recorded tv content without a working phone/net line, I also discovered that Clark Gable and Colin Firth DVDs are very delightful company for lonely, limping me.

Better than Jason, anyway.