Truly we live in an age of wonders: Twitter has saved me from hating a book.
Lottery recounts the story of 32-year-old Perry L. Crandall, a slow adult who happens to win the lottery. With an IQ of 76 (one point higher than those deemed mentally retarded), Perry is nevertheless in danger of getting taken advantage of, and false friends (and family) appear on all sides immediately after his big win. Thankfully, Perry keeps in mind the sage advice of his late grandmother and experiences both ups and downs as he learns to deal with his newfound fame and fortune.
Despite its readability, it was taking me forever to get through
Lottery. I found it cloying, too perfect, too predictable. The narrator was just oh-so wonderful, the antagonists too facile. Add to these the fact that
Lottery was deemed one of the
Washington Post Book World's Best Books of the Year, and my indignation was nearly complete.
I was about to throw the book across the room after nearly suffocating from the sickeningly sweet nature of Mr. Perry L. -- by the way, the L. stands for Lucky (gag me) -- Crandall, when I happened across a tweet by one Mr. Nigel Beale (
@nigelbeale). Beale, whose litblog
Nota Bene Books is well worth your time if you aren't already familiar with it, tweeted that "a book should be evaluated in terms of its capacity to elicit 'real' feelings rather than upon how 'realistic' it might be."
Right: Patricia Wood, not Nigel Beale (obviously)Beale's tweet couldn't have arrived at a more fortuitous moment. Upon reading these words, I was immediately chagrined. I was condemning
Lottery because I believed Perry much too insightful for a man with an IQ of 76. I was criticizing the unrealistic superficiality and one-sidedness of the antagonists and hating the unrealistic "good" characters, who were equally superficial.
The whole thing's totally unrealistic! I crowed.
And then, I encountered a scene in the final third of the book. Despite my previous feelings about the novel, this scene -- a wholly unexpected one, I might add -- elicited real tears. (Nevermind that I cry at the drop of a hat.) What had happened? The unbelievable had occurred:
Lottery had moved me.
And so, what had been a mediocre, predictable read was transformed into . . . well, if not a outstanding read, at least a moving experience. I came to care for Perry and had his best interests at heart. The rest of the book flew by in a blur of pages, and I finished
Lottery feeling as though I had spent my time well.
Lesson learned. Many thanks, Mr. Beale.
In a nutshell: A fast, easy, enjoyable read with a lovable main character,
Lottery elicits real feelings, even if it may not always seem realistic.
Bibliolatry Scale: 4 out of 6 stars