欧宝娱乐

I can't believe how little Malamud apparently knew baseball. I tried to understand this book three different ways - first, as a remarkable story set in the real world. NFW. Second, as a surreal fairy-tale/morality play, a la Coelho's The Alchemist. No, Malamud simply seems to believe what he wrote too much. I mean, there are obviously surreal elements, but Malamud didn't make the full commitment. It's just not that. Third, as a kid's book. Almost, until you get to the end. He really thought he had something powerful for adults.

The book's just a mess. Malamud just doesn't understand baseball. Most of the book, at-bats go three pitches. Exactly three pitches (leading me to think hey-maybe-it's-surreal. If I were to rewrite the book that's the direction I'd take. But I'd stick with it. Which convinces me he didn't get how baseball is.) The titular Roy Hobbs also has way too much control - fouling pitches where he wants them to go, consecutively. But you know, only for two pitches, because the third pitch has to end the at-bat.

The plot emerges as organized as sputum, with plenty of metaphorical guns-hung-over-the-mantel* that get forgotten, and places where Roy does the right thing only to undo it. To his fault, Malamud used one historical incident where a player got shot by a crazy woman in a hotel room, but he uses it randomly, seemingly tacked onto the front of a story about something else. To his credit, Robert Redford took a novel called The Natural and used it randomly, making a good movie out of a couple of random pieces therein.

People who like Jerry B. Jenkins' overt, confused moralizing might like this book. People who like those glurgy e-mails that seem to say something uplifting until you really think about it, might like this book. I don't.

*can be spelled either mantel or mantle. I didn't know.