Once upon a time I had a blog?!

Well, suffice it to say I'm not very good at blogging. Nearly a year since my last post I'm getting back on the wagon, but only because I've got the writing bug again... I'll try for some more consistency this time around but if I'm being realistic you may not hear from me again until 2011. (I don't know why I'm writing as if people actually read this... I'm pretty sure they don't).

Anyway, I have two things to discuss, but I'll break them into separate posts so I seem more productive. The first is a book review (fun!). I read The Alchemist during my Christmas holiday (in Malta! 20 degrees Celsius on Christmas day? Yes please!). After hearing rave reviews from lots of people and then finding it for a couple of quid in a charity shop I figured it would make a good holiday read. I was wrong

I have never hated a book so much in my life.

One reviewer on amazon said:
I wish I could kiss that person.

[in the introduction] the author discusses his amazement at the popularity this book has gained. It is equally astonishing for any reader who is able to endure more than five pages of: "The Soul of the World spoke to the Heart of the Boy as he prayed to the God of the Dessert who commanded the Spirit of the Wind..." I found myself praying to the God of Literature that the boy's beloved sheep would stamped and trample him to death, sparing me from the Demons of Boredom.

Anyway, my top 4 reasons why The Alchemist sucks big time:

1. In the version of the book I have, Paul Coelho wrote a prologue in which HE claims to have studied alchemy for 11 years...
What?!
Interesting fact: do you know who else was an alchemist? Albus Dumbledore.


2. "It's true; life really is generous to those who pursue their destiny"

Yes, that's really a quote from the book. What utter rubbish. I can see why this book may appeal to people who have the means to 'pursue their destiny' and that when their life turns out to be relatively successful and they achieve some goals they may see this as affirmation of the original point.
However, in this situation one should refer to the saying 'Post hoc, ergo proptor hoc,' which, for the non West Wing watching Latin speaking readers, means 'After, therefore because of it.' Just because you achieved some goals or traveled to some far away place doesn't mean you fulfilled a destiny. If this were the case, we would have to assume that poor people (and by poor I don't mean 'I-can't-afford-an-ipod-poor', I mean 'I-live-on-less-than-a-dollar-a-day-poor') are either not trying hard enough to fulfill their destinies or were just given really shitty ones.

Not only does The Alchemist insinuate that alchemy is actually real (honestly, I'm still not over this), it mocks people who are really struggling in life. Not everyone has the privileged position to leave their life (and all of the responsibilities that go with it) to go frolicking through Arabia in search of their mystical destiny. The insinuation that if you aren't happy with your life it's because you either haven't worked hard enough or don't deserve it is supremely insulting.

3. This book is chock-a-block full of latent Christianity. Coehlo tries to pass it off as new age-ish mysticism, but he's not fooling anyone (or at least not me). I don't have a problem with religious books - had I known this was one I wouldn't have chosen to read it - but if people want to write religious books then go right ahead. Just don't try to disguise it by talking about the 'Soul of the World' because it's a) annoying (Soul of the World - really?), b) disingenuous and c) amateur.

4. My last (major) reason for hating this book: Coehlo's placement of women. The basic message of this book is: 'your purpose in life is to pursue your destiny. If you do this, the world will 'conspire' to help you and you will be blessed.'** So, as a woman I give it a big fat middle finger!

An actual quote is: "The desert was full of men who earned their living based on the ease with which they could penetrate to the Soul of the World. They were known as seers, and they were held in fear by women and the elderly."

WTH, Coehlo?! As if the first 3 points weren't enough to start making me want to kick every person who recommended this book in the shin, this last makes me want to kick them in the shin AND pinch that tender piece of skin on the under side of their arm really hard. Blech.

Well, that's all for my review - I hope you're convinced to either never read this book or do so with the expressed purpose of masochistically enjoying its many failures (I would like to note, that even with my myriad criticisms I didn't touch one bit on the lack of literary merit of the book, which could have filled an additional blog post).

In any case, you've been warned!



**Applies to men only