Book Reviews For The People...Specifically, The Stupid People.

Publishing companies spend an enormous amount of money each year promoting books by brand name authors, which is odd since many of these books are already destined to become best sellers. What would happen if the same amount of effort were put into hyping books based on their quality instead of their popularity? Would people respond to a multi-million dollar ad campaign designed to sell Tolstoy? The answer, obviously, is no, and here’s why: no matter how you frame it, classic literature sucks ass. It’s dull, confusing and clearly derivative of American pop-culture. English professors will tell you that literature is a vitally important art form, but don't let that fool you. Mainstream culture is actually the shining beacon of intellect from which all knowledge flows. It plays the role of host to the parasite of literature, as the following reviews demonstrate.

The Cliffs Notes Macbeth by Cliff

Cliff (writing under the pseudonym “Shakespeare”) brings us this exquisite sample of high-grade, literary crack. The story follows a nagging wife and three scheming witches as they attempt to bring down the tragically co-dependent Macbeth. This anti-feminist manifesto is Cliff’s most thought-provoking work to date. The story is so sharp and concise that it almost reads like a synopsis. Almost. As an added bonus, Cliff breaks down and explains every single aspect of the story, leaving the reader free to think about more important things, like puppies and shiny objects. This wonderfully accessible approach makes Macbeth a perfect beach read and slightly more educational than, say, staring at a wall.

Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes

A simpleton from the country loses his mind and sets off to do battle with an endless stream of imagined enemies. If these exploits sound familiar, it’s because they are identical to those of the Bush administration. Maybe the author thought he could fool us by changing up the names and settings, but Cervantes...dude. I am on to you. (Though I have to admit, I did not actually read the book. It's fucking long.)

Lost Illusions by Honore de Balzac

In an effort to make a name for himself, an idealistic young poet heads for the big city. However, as he climbs through the vicious ranks of Parisian society, he is increasingly distracted by the lure of superficial fame and fortune. Much partying and gambling ensues, and this descent into materialism ultimately brings about the poet's spiritual and artistic downfall. You may have enjoyed this story the first time around, when it was called every single episode of VH1’s Behind the Music. My guess is that, after writing more than 90 novels, the author has finally run out of ideas. Two pieces of advice for Balzac: 1. get your fat ass off of the couch and 2. come up with a new storyline. Thanks.

The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas

Now here’s an author who knows how to make use of his television viewing habits. Crime-fighting ex-soldiers are on the run from corrupt forces within their own government, in this playful reworking of the A-team. Seasoned veteran Athos plays the part of Hannibal. Porthos, with his hilarious catchphrase “I pity the fop” is obviously the Mr. T of the musketeers. D’Artagnan, the likeable outcast, is Murdock, and the suave ladies man Aramis is Face. Dumas, by hopping on the 80’s retro bandwagon, is sticking his literate tongue in the televised ear of popular culture...and it feels so good.

The Aeneid (plagiarized) by Virgil

This Roman epic features buff, manly Trojans behaving like petulant children and interacting with ancient gods who behave...well, like petulant children. You may have enjoyed Roman mythology the first time around, when it was called Greek mythology. The stories are similar, the personalities the same. It makes you wonder who Virgil had to sleep with in order to get this crap published (probably his editor).

The Davinci Code by Dan Brown.

Ahhh...this is what it’s all about. Books like The Davinci Code are the reason that God created language. Behold, I bring you the plot: two people solve clues which- get this- direct them to other clues. Stunning, I know. There’s a minor subplot (something about Catholics being insane and Jesus getting laid), but this pales in comparison to the book’s innovative centerpiece: clue-solving! How did Dan Brown come up with such a groundbreaking premise? I suppose he could have watched Scooby Doo or The Goonies, but his book definitely goes to the next level. A divine wordsmith has descended from the heavens and, verily, his name is Dan.