Ahem.

In some ways, not as dark as OOTP, but in others, darker still. I think I'm going to need to sit down and read the series from cover to cover again, just to watch how things progress. As always, Rowling does an excellent job with the character's development, especially the kids. She writes them believably at whatever age they are. I'm glad Harry seems to have gotten over his angry-yelly phase.

Still a fan, and definitely eager to see what happens in the last book.

Flocker takes a tongue in cheek look at various ways and reasons people have resorted to different vices, from sex to drugs to spending money to eating... and so on. Furthermore, he provides some excellent justifications for indulging in any or all of the above, depending on your preferences. Interestingly, he also suggests that moderation can be and is a vital part of a hedonist's lifestyle.

Definitely a cheerful little book, and anyone's bound to come away with a few more ideas of ways to have fun.

He also takes an interesting look at the cultural history of depression as a sort of replacement for TB as a disease that only "refined" people suffer from. And of course, he deals with the old saw about "What if Van Gogh had been prescribed Prozac?", i.e., Artists Must Suffer For Their Art. That question, in fact, is what drove Kramer to write and book, and he dismantles that argument in favor of untreated depression pretty handily.

Like all good swashbucklers, there's a lot of humor in Zorro, but there's a lot of pathos and adventure and excitement and romance too. Allende managed to work the formula without being formulaic. The identity of the initially unnamed narrator won't surprise anyone who's been paying attention, but by the time you get there, the narrator's identity doesn't matter nearly as much as the hero's. Definitely have to read this one again.

I have almost nothing in common with Lamott, who is a single mother and recovering addict and alcoholic. What we do have in common is a belief in a God of love and social justice, and that all of the dogmatic crap people tend to get so bogged down in is a gigantic waste of time. She reminds me that Christianity can (and should) have room for everybody, regardless of our personal differences.

The biggest trouble with the book, though, is that absolutely none of the characters are the least bit likeable, not even the narrator. One of the reviewers on Amazon commented that after he or she had finished the book they felt like they needed a shower--and that's completely accurate. Everybody in this memoir is greasy or slimy in some way or another, it's hard not to come away from it feeling a little soiled. Still, if you're a bundle of naivete (like me), it's an intriguing look at the other side of the world.

The characters were largely likeable, if a little two-dimensional. I was a little bothered by the constant references to a character's body size and the character traits associated with it--but that's a quirk of mine, and for some weird reason, every single book I read this weekend did something similar.

Anyway, I may pick up one or two of the other books in the series, out of curiosity.

The class system in the US is so fucked up. We try to ignore it, and everybody thinks they're middle-class, no matter where they are or how much money they actually make, so as a result, nobody ever tries to address the actual differences in terms of expectations and upbringing and communication skills and values. Class does matter, even here, and it's time we start dealing with it.