Okay, clearly this book is a winner. Although, for the record, I think the names are going downhill. I mean, Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants is a good name for a book. The Second Summer of the Sisterhood is kind of weak, but at least it has alliteration on its side. But Girls in Pants is just shorthand for Another One of those Books about Those Girls You Like to Read About. I'm sure it'll be a wonderful book, but still.
I don't think I've met anyone who hasn't liked that book--a random girl in the elevator at work spent a long ride and a walk to the sidewalk gushing (with hand gestures). E Ben, who is a MAN, liked it. Mike liked the parts he read over my shoulder. Sensational!
I think, in the first book, I liked Bridget best. I liked that she was such a together, confident person, but that she didn't fully grasp what was going on inside herself. I thought it was a very complete depiction of someone who's skimming along successfully on the surface of life, but who doesn't even know what to do with the depths. Carmen was most like me, though. All temper and no self-control. There were so many moments, in all the stories, that just hit you with their perfect description of exactly what you've felt at one time or another.
Thanks so much for writing, Rachel! Becky's told me that I should talk about books with you, since it's 90% of what I want to talk about. It's nice to find someone who's interested in this Quest to Read Everything.
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Ah-HAH!
After many laborious weeks, I have finished reading Guns, Germs and Steel by Jared Diamond. It was a long book. There was a lot of information in it. He assimilates it very thoroughly--despite its scholarly air, he simplifies his means of arguing by repeating connections he's made over and over again. This gets a little repetitious (yes, Mr. Diamond, I understand that the east-west axis of Eurasia made it easier to spread agricultural advancements quickly across the continent), but on the other hand, I would never have been able to read it if he'd gone with underkill instead of over.
I'm now full of cocktail party tidbits that I suspect I'm going to be boring people about for months to come. Almost all crops native to the Americas are actually native to South America. One of the reasons Europe and Asia developed so quickly compared to other continents was simply that they had a lot of good crops and animals to start with, when it came to farming. If you can't farm, you can't increase your population as fast, and you can't feed yourselves fast enough to have leisure times to develop things like microchips. For example, one factoid I liked was this: a nomadic hunter-gatherer can only have one baby ever 4 years--basically, you can't have a new baby till the old one can walk, otherwise you're not mobile enough. So even if you have enough food for everyone, you still can't increase your population as fast.
Anyway, it was a really interesting book. Well designed, too--because of the repetition I mentioned before, even if you put it down for a while, you can come back to it later and details or conclusions that slipped your mind will be reiterated. This is why I was able to take over a month to read it and yet still retain a lot.
Besides this, I've been reading a LOT of young adult material. I'm running low on steam for it, actually. Now that I've finished The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe in time for the movie that will be out in about six months, I can get back to other things. Oh, except that my turn with Girls in Pants: The Third Summer of the Sisterhood just came up at the library. I swear that's it, though--after that, I'm reading only serious adult tomes for at least a month.
Well, maybe not serious. I'm eyeing Ladies' No. 1 Detective Agency.
I'm now full of cocktail party tidbits that I suspect I'm going to be boring people about for months to come. Almost all crops native to the Americas are actually native to South America. One of the reasons Europe and Asia developed so quickly compared to other continents was simply that they had a lot of good crops and animals to start with, when it came to farming. If you can't farm, you can't increase your population as fast, and you can't feed yourselves fast enough to have leisure times to develop things like microchips. For example, one factoid I liked was this: a nomadic hunter-gatherer can only have one baby ever 4 years--basically, you can't have a new baby till the old one can walk, otherwise you're not mobile enough. So even if you have enough food for everyone, you still can't increase your population as fast.
Anyway, it was a really interesting book. Well designed, too--because of the repetition I mentioned before, even if you put it down for a while, you can come back to it later and details or conclusions that slipped your mind will be reiterated. This is why I was able to take over a month to read it and yet still retain a lot.
Besides this, I've been reading a LOT of young adult material. I'm running low on steam for it, actually. Now that I've finished The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe in time for the movie that will be out in about six months, I can get back to other things. Oh, except that my turn with Girls in Pants: The Third Summer of the Sisterhood just came up at the library. I swear that's it, though--after that, I'm reading only serious adult tomes for at least a month.
Well, maybe not serious. I'm eyeing Ladies' No. 1 Detective Agency.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
A Little Embarassing
I really feel like, between the Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants and rereading all my Susan Isaacs once a year, I've missed out on a lot of important things. See the following, for example.
And in case you don't scroll all the way down, commentary first.
1) I suspect that One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovitch was banned in communist Russia. A very different standard.
2) Speaking of standards, whatever nutjob banned Little House on the Prairie probably has hypersensitivity problems. How do you walk down the street if you're that easily offended?
3) I have already added a few of these to my list, and I'm proud to say that some were already on it.
4) At first I was embarassed by the number of titles that I not only haven't read, but haven't heard of. But now I'm a little skeptical about this list. I mean, I would expect that The Happy Hooker has been banned lots of times--possibly more often than James and the Giant Peach, because, while more libraries are trying to include the latter, astronomically more people would have complaints about the former.
And I think the advice to read more is not necessarily solid. Some of these are wonderful books, but there are plenty of good non-banned books out there.
So that's my two cents. I have to mark up the list, which may take a while.
Here's a list of the top 110 banned books. Bold the ones you've read. Italicize the ones you've read part of. Read more. Convince others to read some.
#1 The Bible
#2 Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
#3 Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes
#4 The Koran
#5 Arabian Nights
#6 Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
#7 Gulliver's Travels by Jonathan Swift
#8 Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer
#9 Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne
#10 Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman
#11 The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli
#12 Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe
#13 Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank
#14 Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert
#15 Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens
#16 Les Miserables by Victor Hugo
#17 Dracula by Bram Stoker
#18 Autobiography by Benjamin Franklin
#19 Tom Jones by Henry Fielding
#20 Essays by Michel de Montaigne
#21 Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck
#22 History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire by Edward Gibbon
#23 Tess of the D'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy
#24 Origin of Species by Charles Darwin
#25 Ulysses by James Joyce
#26 Decameron by Giovanni Boccaccio
#27 Animal Farm by George Orwell
#28 Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell
#29 Candide by Voltaire
#30 To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
#31 Analects by Confucius
#32 Dubliners by James Joyce
#33 Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
#34 Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway
#35 Red and the Black by Stendhal
#36 Das Kapital by Karl Marx
#37 Les Fleurs du Mal by Charles Baudelaire
#38 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
#39 Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence
#40 Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
#41 Sister Carrie by Theodore Dreiser
#42 Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
#43 Jungle by Upton Sinclair
#44 All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque
#45 Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx
#46 Lord of the Flies by William Golding
#47 Diary by Samuel Pepys
#48 Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway
#49 Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy
#50 Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
#51 Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak
#52 Critique of Pure Reason by Immanuel Kant
#53 One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest by Ken Kesey
#54 Praise of Folly by Desiderius Erasmus
#55 Catch-22 by Joseph Heller
#56 Autobiography of Malcolm X by Malcolm X
#57 Color Purple by Alice Walker
#58 Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger
#59 Essay Concerning Human Understanding by John Locke
#60 Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison
#61 Moll Flanders by Daniel Defoe
#62 One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
#63 East of Eden by John Steinbeck
#64 Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison
#65 I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
#66 Confessions by Jean Jacques Rousseau
#67 Gargantua and Pantagruel by Francois Rabelais
#68 Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes
#69 The Talmud
#70 Social Contract by Jean Jacques Rousseau
#71 Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
#72 Women in Love by D. H. Lawrence
#73 American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser
#74 Mein Kampf by Adolf Hitler
#75 Separate Peace by John Knowles
#76 Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
#77 Red Pony by John Steinbeck
#78 Popol Vuh
#79 Affluent Society by John Kenneth Galbraith
#80 Satyricon by Petronius
#81 James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl
#82 Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
#83 Black Boy by Richard Wright
#84 Spirit of the Laws by Charles de Secondat Baron de Montesquieu
#85 Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut
#86 Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George
#87 Metaphysics by Aristotle
#88 Little House on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder
#89 Institutes of the Christian Religion by Jean Calvin
#90 Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse
#91 Power and the Glory by Graham Greene
#92 Sanctuary by William Faulkner
#93 As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner
#94 Black Like Me by John Howard Griffin
#95 Sylvester and the Magic Pebble by William Steig
#96 Sorrows of Young Werther by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
#97 General Introduction to Psychoanalysis by Sigmund Freud
#98 Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
#99 Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee by Dee Alexander Brown
#100 Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess
#101 Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman by Ernest J. Gaines
#102 Emile Jean by Jacques Rousseau
#103 Nana by Emile Zola
#104 Chocolate War by Robert Cormier
#105 Go Tell It on the Mountain by James Baldwin
#106 Gulag Archipelago by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
#107 Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert A. Heinlein
#108 Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Peck
#109 Ox-Bow Incident by Walter Van Tilburg Clark
#110 Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes
And in case you don't scroll all the way down, commentary first.
1) I suspect that One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovitch was banned in communist Russia. A very different standard.
2) Speaking of standards, whatever nutjob banned Little House on the Prairie probably has hypersensitivity problems. How do you walk down the street if you're that easily offended?
3) I have already added a few of these to my list, and I'm proud to say that some were already on it.
4) At first I was embarassed by the number of titles that I not only haven't read, but haven't heard of. But now I'm a little skeptical about this list. I mean, I would expect that The Happy Hooker has been banned lots of times--possibly more often than James and the Giant Peach, because, while more libraries are trying to include the latter, astronomically more people would have complaints about the former.
And I think the advice to read more is not necessarily solid. Some of these are wonderful books, but there are plenty of good non-banned books out there.
So that's my two cents. I have to mark up the list, which may take a while.
Here's a list of the top 110 banned books. Bold the ones you've read. Italicize the ones you've read part of. Read more. Convince others to read some.
#1 The Bible
#2 Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
#3 Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes
#4 The Koran
#5 Arabian Nights
#6 Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
#7 Gulliver's Travels by Jonathan Swift
#8 Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer
#9 Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne
#10 Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman
#11 The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli
#12 Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe
#13 Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank
#14 Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert
#15 Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens
#16 Les Miserables by Victor Hugo
#17 Dracula by Bram Stoker
#18 Autobiography by Benjamin Franklin
#19 Tom Jones by Henry Fielding
#20 Essays by Michel de Montaigne
#21 Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck
#22 History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire by Edward Gibbon
#23 Tess of the D'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy
#24 Origin of Species by Charles Darwin
#25 Ulysses by James Joyce
#26 Decameron by Giovanni Boccaccio
#27 Animal Farm by George Orwell
#28 Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell
#29 Candide by Voltaire
#30 To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
#31 Analects by Confucius
#32 Dubliners by James Joyce
#33 Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
#34 Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway
#35 Red and the Black by Stendhal
#36 Das Kapital by Karl Marx
#37 Les Fleurs du Mal by Charles Baudelaire
#38 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
#39 Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence
#40 Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
#41 Sister Carrie by Theodore Dreiser
#42 Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
#43 Jungle by Upton Sinclair
#44 All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque
#45 Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx
#46 Lord of the Flies by William Golding
#47 Diary by Samuel Pepys
#48 Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway
#49 Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy
#50 Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
#51 Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak
#52 Critique of Pure Reason by Immanuel Kant
#53 One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest by Ken Kesey
#54 Praise of Folly by Desiderius Erasmus
#55 Catch-22 by Joseph Heller
#56 Autobiography of Malcolm X by Malcolm X
#57 Color Purple by Alice Walker
#58 Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger
#59 Essay Concerning Human Understanding by John Locke
#60 Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison
#61 Moll Flanders by Daniel Defoe
#62 One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
#63 East of Eden by John Steinbeck
#64 Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison
#65 I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
#66 Confessions by Jean Jacques Rousseau
#67 Gargantua and Pantagruel by Francois Rabelais
#68 Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes
#69 The Talmud
#70 Social Contract by Jean Jacques Rousseau
#71 Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
#72 Women in Love by D. H. Lawrence
#73 American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser
#74 Mein Kampf by Adolf Hitler
#75 Separate Peace by John Knowles
#76 Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
#77 Red Pony by John Steinbeck
#78 Popol Vuh
#79 Affluent Society by John Kenneth Galbraith
#80 Satyricon by Petronius
#81 James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl
#82 Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
#83 Black Boy by Richard Wright
#84 Spirit of the Laws by Charles de Secondat Baron de Montesquieu
#85 Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut
#86 Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George
#87 Metaphysics by Aristotle
#88 Little House on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder
#89 Institutes of the Christian Religion by Jean Calvin
#90 Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse
#91 Power and the Glory by Graham Greene
#92 Sanctuary by William Faulkner
#93 As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner
#94 Black Like Me by John Howard Griffin
#95 Sylvester and the Magic Pebble by William Steig
#96 Sorrows of Young Werther by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
#97 General Introduction to Psychoanalysis by Sigmund Freud
#98 Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
#99 Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee by Dee Alexander Brown
#100 Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess
#101 Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman by Ernest J. Gaines
#102 Emile Jean by Jacques Rousseau
#103 Nana by Emile Zola
#104 Chocolate War by Robert Cormier
#105 Go Tell It on the Mountain by James Baldwin
#106 Gulag Archipelago by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
#107 Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert A. Heinlein
#108 Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Peck
#109 Ox-Bow Incident by Walter Van Tilburg Clark
#110 Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Trade Off
So Melissa showers me with new things to read (The Innkeeper's Song, by Peter Beagle, which I was too young to appreciate last time). I need to move faster through what I'm reading now, though, to get to it.
I'll DEFINITELY need to undergo a Personal Library Renaissance this time. No more BPL books (except book club books and reserves that I've been waiting for, assuming they ever come in) until I've read a certain percentage of the books I own and have borrowed from others. Right now all my reading is borrowed--GG&S is from Elizabeth (because she beat me to it at the book fair), Alias Grace from Lynne (who hopefully is reading The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants and enjoying it) and The Ruby in the Smoke from Katie, who will have to read Philip Pullman's Golden Compass series soon.
I also need to read the Chronicles of Narnia. I've only ever read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, but I've become fond of C.S. Lewis in my dotage, and the movie's coming out. Once again, my reading comes in waves--before it was books about finding God and parenting, and now it's YA fiction (mostly fantasy). I also really want to read When We Were Orphans by Kazuo Ishiguro, which Becky was kind enough to say I could keep if I wanted. I'm too greedy, because I really really do want.
I'm looking forward to finishing GG&S and Alias Grace, because I'd like to be able to look at both of those rather vast books more objectively, and maybe write about them here. Instead of about trips to the library and, basically, biblioporn.
I'll DEFINITELY need to undergo a Personal Library Renaissance this time. No more BPL books (except book club books and reserves that I've been waiting for, assuming they ever come in) until I've read a certain percentage of the books I own and have borrowed from others. Right now all my reading is borrowed--GG&S is from Elizabeth (because she beat me to it at the book fair), Alias Grace from Lynne (who hopefully is reading The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants and enjoying it) and The Ruby in the Smoke from Katie, who will have to read Philip Pullman's Golden Compass series soon.
I also need to read the Chronicles of Narnia. I've only ever read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, but I've become fond of C.S. Lewis in my dotage, and the movie's coming out. Once again, my reading comes in waves--before it was books about finding God and parenting, and now it's YA fiction (mostly fantasy). I also really want to read When We Were Orphans by Kazuo Ishiguro, which Becky was kind enough to say I could keep if I wanted. I'm too greedy, because I really really do want.
I'm looking forward to finishing GG&S and Alias Grace, because I'd like to be able to look at both of those rather vast books more objectively, and maybe write about them here. Instead of about trips to the library and, basically, biblioporn.
Friday, June 10, 2005
Impressed with Myself
Wow, so I'm almost out of library books. I had seven items out so assumed I had a lot, but I'm returning three of them, one's an audiobook that I'm going to rip to MP3 and listen to at my leisure, and the other three are either minor or done. So I'm...purged. Clean. I can go where I want, do...whatever I want. Horrible, horrible freedom.
Well, Guns, Germs and Steel is going to take a while. Sara, Sara's father and I all seem to have the problem that that book takes forever to read. I'm on page 255 (which I remember because I creep along page by page), and I'm so proud! It's enjoyable, though. Then there are the Alice Munro books I borrowed from Brenda, and the one last book Melissa lent me. Yeah, and Katie just let me have the Philip Pullman--okay, it's a lot. A lot of it is Young Adult, though, so I suspect I'll breeze through some of it.
And then I'll come back and read a bunch of adolescent girl nonfiction, which seems to be my current thing (Stick Figure, Queen Bees and Wannabes, maybe reread Reviving Ophelia). I'll tell you, I'm going to be woefully underprepared for parenting a boy.
Well, Guns, Germs and Steel is going to take a while. Sara, Sara's father and I all seem to have the problem that that book takes forever to read. I'm on page 255 (which I remember because I creep along page by page), and I'm so proud! It's enjoyable, though. Then there are the Alice Munro books I borrowed from Brenda, and the one last book Melissa lent me. Yeah, and Katie just let me have the Philip Pullman--okay, it's a lot. A lot of it is Young Adult, though, so I suspect I'll breeze through some of it.
And then I'll come back and read a bunch of adolescent girl nonfiction, which seems to be my current thing (Stick Figure, Queen Bees and Wannabes, maybe reread Reviving Ophelia). I'll tell you, I'm going to be woefully underprepared for parenting a boy.
Thursday, June 09, 2005
Book House
http://www.liviodemarchi.com/casauk.htm
A crazy person after my own somewhat obsessed heart.
No...no, I have to admit--he's nuttier than I am.
A crazy person after my own somewhat obsessed heart.
No...no, I have to admit--he's nuttier than I am.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Countdown
If I keep my wits about me and my eyes shut in the bookstore, I'm going to have the list back down in the 30s. When it's there, I feel less like I'm trying to beat it back and get somewhere, and more like I have a menu to choose from when it's time to make a book selection. Of course, this depends on the fact that about eight of the 46 books on my list are currently either actively being read or on deck.
The Name on the White House Floor and Other Anxieties of Our Times. Judith Martin before Miss Manners. Collected essays--"our times" being the early 70s. This was a lot of fun--I recommend it.
Which, by the way--add to my top ten list: Miss Manners Guide to Excruciatingly Correct Behavior. I'm not kidding anyone--I'm going to get a copy of the new updated version very very soon.
The Name on the White House Floor and Other Anxieties of Our Times. Judith Martin before Miss Manners. Collected essays--"our times" being the early 70s. This was a lot of fun--I recommend it.
Which, by the way--add to my top ten list: Miss Manners Guide to Excruciatingly Correct Behavior. I'm not kidding anyone--I'm going to get a copy of the new updated version very very soon.
Friday, May 27, 2005
Top Ten?
A top ten list? I don't know if I can do that. I can only think of two books that I would come back to in the category of "favorite book," and even beyond that, these opinions change? Best book I read this year, even, would be hard.
We'd have to start with The Nun's Story by Kathryn Hulme. I've been squawked at, "It's not a true story, you know!!!" (By a librarian, no less--the one in Hudson who used to comment on all your books as you were checking them out.) Yeah, and I only read true stories. That's what all the dragons, spaceships, and true unending romance are about.
Then there's Shining Through, by Susan Isaacs. I don't think I could understand someone who didn't like that book, or at least find it funny. If Bridget Jones were smart and together and funnier, you'd come close to this book.
Um...I'll have to think about the rest of the top ten list. But I can tell you about the next ten.
I'm reading Guns, Germs and Steel by Jared Diamond, and How to Be Lost by Amanda Eyre Ward, both very enjoyable books. I'm listening to Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell on my MP3 player. And I've got George Takei (you know, Sulu)'s autobiography and an old and obscure book of Judith Martin essays from the library. Plus The Law of Similars (Chris Bohjalian), The Final Solution (Michael Chabon), The Thief Lord, two books of Alice Munro stories, the collected short works of Dorothy Parker, not to mention the MAMMOTH Autobiography of Henry VIII: A Novel. And that's just the borrowed stuff.
We'd have to start with The Nun's Story by Kathryn Hulme. I've been squawked at, "It's not a true story, you know!!!" (By a librarian, no less--the one in Hudson who used to comment on all your books as you were checking them out.) Yeah, and I only read true stories. That's what all the dragons, spaceships, and true unending romance are about.
Then there's Shining Through, by Susan Isaacs. I don't think I could understand someone who didn't like that book, or at least find it funny. If Bridget Jones were smart and together and funnier, you'd come close to this book.
Um...I'll have to think about the rest of the top ten list. But I can tell you about the next ten.
I'm reading Guns, Germs and Steel by Jared Diamond, and How to Be Lost by Amanda Eyre Ward, both very enjoyable books. I'm listening to Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell on my MP3 player. And I've got George Takei (you know, Sulu)'s autobiography and an old and obscure book of Judith Martin essays from the library. Plus The Law of Similars (Chris Bohjalian), The Final Solution (Michael Chabon), The Thief Lord, two books of Alice Munro stories, the collected short works of Dorothy Parker, not to mention the MAMMOTH Autobiography of Henry VIII: A Novel. And that's just the borrowed stuff.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Too...Many...Books....
Joy, rapture, the autobiography of George Takei has made it to the library in time for me to pick it up with an obscure and probably boring essay by Judith Martin that I've reserved. And the author of the book I just started, Amanda Eyre Ward (How to Be Lost is the book, and so far so good. She went to Williams, I'll point out for the tenth time) wrote a review a long time ago of a book I had changed my mind about wanting to read; the review changed it back. The book is Strip City, and it's a non-fiction account of a road trip that an ex-stripper took just before settling down to marry a fairly straight-laced military man. Basically, she strips her way across the country. I wasn't sure at first that I'd want to read about someone who thinks that flesh trade is a positive life experience, but it sounds from this review like there's a little more to it than that. (The review is here, by the way)
So my list is back up to 48, though I'm working my way through two of them, and my two library books are going to be another two. Then I really need to get to some books on my shelf, mostly borrowed, that are not on the list, though.
I'm so excited! So very!
So my list is back up to 48, though I'm working my way through two of them, and my two library books are going to be another two. Then I really need to get to some books on my shelf, mostly borrowed, that are not on the list, though.
I'm so excited! So very!
Sunday, May 22, 2005
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Misogynist or Misanthropist?
My newfound comprehension of Mormons makes me see pretty clearly how Orson Scott Card feels about women--or anyway, how he addresses them in his books. That is, they can be good people (chiefly by being good wives and mothers), but they are weak and ignorant, and need protecting. That's overstating the case, but if he wasn't understated, it wouldn't have taken me this long to figure it out. Rachel & Leah of his Women of Genesis series brought this one home.
And this has made me think about male writers who address women. It's not the kind of thing I usually notice; I suspect that's mostly because I'm less aware of the differences between men and women than some people. Everyone is "people," and then whether you're a man or woman will have an effect on what kind of person you are. That sounds kinda sickeningly simplistic, but the personal insights behind it are not the point here.
The point is some books in which I've disagreed with people on how men write women (I can't speak to how accurate women are when they write men). For example, She's Come Undone, by Wally Lamb. I might be the only person I know who thought that was NOT a very good depiction of a women. It was a very well-written person, especially for someone so troubled and messed up, which is hard a hard thing to do appealingly with your narrator and protagonist. I don't think I would have any complaints if everyone hadn't ranted about how well the male author wrote the female character. I don't think she was very specifically female at all--if anything, I felt a disjoint between the fact that her personality was formed by sexual abuse (in her early teen years, not as a young child) and the aggressive, active, self-sabotaging attitude of the character. Not that women aren't that way, sometimes, but for a book lauded as having a feminine sensibility, I wasn't convinced.
Let's see, then there's The Color of Light, by William Goldman. Possibly the only people who have read this book are the ones I've lent it to, but I've loved this for a long time. Mostly this is because William Goldman is a hilarious and brutal writer. When Jo borrowed it, though, her reaction was, "He doesn't really like women, does he?" which was the first time I realized that all the female characters in the book were pretty messed up in one way or another. I brooded on that for a while and then realized that ALL the characters were pretty messed up; the reason the women were notably unredeemed was mostly because Chub was the only redeemed one at all. So that's men 1, women 0--not a great score for either team.
(Two Brew wasn't redeemed--he was just rich and funny)
As a partially relevant side-note, I've always thought Stephen King wrote women in a style that I would call poor but likeable. He thinks women know something he doesn't--have some grasp of Truth or Humanity that any man (or at least King himself) lacks. But I find that kind of appealing, in a flattering way. Heck yeah, I have a deep grasp of the cosmos. I'll take that kind of credit wherever I can get it.
And then there's Orson Scott Card. I retain my fondness for Ender's Game, and I'll say that I enjoyed Enchantment, Homebody, and Speaker for the Dead. But these Women of Genesis books, besides tricking me into thinking I knew Bible stories when I really learned Book of Mormon stories, are full of men who, even when they're CLEARLY WRONG--within the context of the story--are treated as right for being men. And when women are right, they're still just women. It makes for a weird imbalance of character.
I was quite old before I thought of myself as a girl. I mean, I was never a tomboy (though I wanted to be), but I think there are a lot of moments that make people identify with their gender that I'm missing, either because of how I grew up or because I've always been a little dim that way. But I've often felt like I was watching these interactions involving gender with a certain objectivity. I wonder if that's at all valid, or if everyone feels that way.
And this has made me think about male writers who address women. It's not the kind of thing I usually notice; I suspect that's mostly because I'm less aware of the differences between men and women than some people. Everyone is "people," and then whether you're a man or woman will have an effect on what kind of person you are. That sounds kinda sickeningly simplistic, but the personal insights behind it are not the point here.
The point is some books in which I've disagreed with people on how men write women (I can't speak to how accurate women are when they write men). For example, She's Come Undone, by Wally Lamb. I might be the only person I know who thought that was NOT a very good depiction of a women. It was a very well-written person, especially for someone so troubled and messed up, which is hard a hard thing to do appealingly with your narrator and protagonist. I don't think I would have any complaints if everyone hadn't ranted about how well the male author wrote the female character. I don't think she was very specifically female at all--if anything, I felt a disjoint between the fact that her personality was formed by sexual abuse (in her early teen years, not as a young child) and the aggressive, active, self-sabotaging attitude of the character. Not that women aren't that way, sometimes, but for a book lauded as having a feminine sensibility, I wasn't convinced.
Let's see, then there's The Color of Light, by William Goldman. Possibly the only people who have read this book are the ones I've lent it to, but I've loved this for a long time. Mostly this is because William Goldman is a hilarious and brutal writer. When Jo borrowed it, though, her reaction was, "He doesn't really like women, does he?" which was the first time I realized that all the female characters in the book were pretty messed up in one way or another. I brooded on that for a while and then realized that ALL the characters were pretty messed up; the reason the women were notably unredeemed was mostly because Chub was the only redeemed one at all. So that's men 1, women 0--not a great score for either team.
(Two Brew wasn't redeemed--he was just rich and funny)
As a partially relevant side-note, I've always thought Stephen King wrote women in a style that I would call poor but likeable. He thinks women know something he doesn't--have some grasp of Truth or Humanity that any man (or at least King himself) lacks. But I find that kind of appealing, in a flattering way. Heck yeah, I have a deep grasp of the cosmos. I'll take that kind of credit wherever I can get it.
And then there's Orson Scott Card. I retain my fondness for Ender's Game, and I'll say that I enjoyed Enchantment, Homebody, and Speaker for the Dead. But these Women of Genesis books, besides tricking me into thinking I knew Bible stories when I really learned Book of Mormon stories, are full of men who, even when they're CLEARLY WRONG--within the context of the story--are treated as right for being men. And when women are right, they're still just women. It makes for a weird imbalance of character.
I was quite old before I thought of myself as a girl. I mean, I was never a tomboy (though I wanted to be), but I think there are a lot of moments that make people identify with their gender that I'm missing, either because of how I grew up or because I've always been a little dim that way. But I've often felt like I was watching these interactions involving gender with a certain objectivity. I wonder if that's at all valid, or if everyone feels that way.
Monday, May 16, 2005
Roseanne Barr
So I read a book that was later made into a Roseanne Barr movie. (Was there more than one Roseanne Barr movie?) The movie was She-Devil, and the book was called The Life and Loves of a She-Devil. By Fay Weldon.
I try not to be too much of a Polyanna, and I have appreciated some pretty grim books in my time. But I didn't like The Epicure's Lament, our last book club selection. That was because you couldn't like the main character, and you couldn't see the world without him. He was an unreliable narrator, but not as funny or smart as he thought he was, and the author didn't let us work around him at all.
Anyway, there is no one in She-Devil whom you care about. There's a clear protagonist--the wronged wife out for revenge. Normally, I'd love to be on her side. But she is not a very nice person, does not learn anything, is not redeemed by any positive traits. Being put-upon is not a positive trait.
And no one else she encounters in her long journey has any kind of wisdom, or dignity, or integrity. All the men want to have sex with her--most do. All the women are dim, pointless, reproduction and/or sex machines.
She-Devil and Epicure share this: both are trying to make me feel that the human race is pretty worthless. I've felt this way before: I used to have a list of things that make me ashamed to be a part of the human race (#1 on that list was that commercial for I Can't Belive It's Not Butter, the spray that starred Fabio. That convergence of elements was too much for me). I wouldn't put these books on that list, but I can say that they don't make me happier about humanity.
Not like French Martinis.
I try not to be too much of a Polyanna, and I have appreciated some pretty grim books in my time. But I didn't like The Epicure's Lament, our last book club selection. That was because you couldn't like the main character, and you couldn't see the world without him. He was an unreliable narrator, but not as funny or smart as he thought he was, and the author didn't let us work around him at all.
Anyway, there is no one in She-Devil whom you care about. There's a clear protagonist--the wronged wife out for revenge. Normally, I'd love to be on her side. But she is not a very nice person, does not learn anything, is not redeemed by any positive traits. Being put-upon is not a positive trait.
And no one else she encounters in her long journey has any kind of wisdom, or dignity, or integrity. All the men want to have sex with her--most do. All the women are dim, pointless, reproduction and/or sex machines.
She-Devil and Epicure share this: both are trying to make me feel that the human race is pretty worthless. I've felt this way before: I used to have a list of things that make me ashamed to be a part of the human race (#1 on that list was that commercial for I Can't Belive It's Not Butter, the spray that starred Fabio. That convergence of elements was too much for me). I wouldn't put these books on that list, but I can say that they don't make me happier about humanity.
Not like French Martinis.
Monday, May 09, 2005
Fast, Cheap, Out of Control
Miss Manners is coming! Miss Manners is coming! Oh, I am beside myself! She will speak at the Boston Public Library, and I hope I can go. Linden, I'm sorry if it means a short dinner on Wednesday, but it's Miss Manners. I hope you understand.
This weekend I read (very quickly) My Posse Don't Do Homework, which was amusing and heartwarming, as it was intended to be, and bore little or no relationship to the movie they made from it, Dangerous Minds. I liked the movie, liked the book better, though it was schmaltzier. Best, though, I liked the segement of This American Life where the author of the book--the teacher who was played by Michelle Pfeiffer in the movie and Annie Potts in the short-lived TV series, rips into Hollywood for turning these mostly good, hard-working kids into violent gang members who aren't motivated or interested. It's more complex than that, and in spite of the schmaltz (did I mention the schmaltz?), the book did a better job of portraying kids who want to succeed but are afraid to try, full of anger, or just have other priorities.
There will be plane trips coming up soon, which are good for reading. But also weddings and busy weekends, which are not. But I'm going to start obsessing about the weather now, because I have a goregous new dress, but am apparently attending an outdoor wedding in what promises to be the rain and mud this weekend.
Wish me luck.
This weekend I read (very quickly) My Posse Don't Do Homework, which was amusing and heartwarming, as it was intended to be, and bore little or no relationship to the movie they made from it, Dangerous Minds. I liked the movie, liked the book better, though it was schmaltzier. Best, though, I liked the segement of This American Life where the author of the book--the teacher who was played by Michelle Pfeiffer in the movie and Annie Potts in the short-lived TV series, rips into Hollywood for turning these mostly good, hard-working kids into violent gang members who aren't motivated or interested. It's more complex than that, and in spite of the schmaltz (did I mention the schmaltz?), the book did a better job of portraying kids who want to succeed but are afraid to try, full of anger, or just have other priorities.
There will be plane trips coming up soon, which are good for reading. But also weddings and busy weekends, which are not. But I'm going to start obsessing about the weather now, because I have a goregous new dress, but am apparently attending an outdoor wedding in what promises to be the rain and mud this weekend.
Wish me luck.
Friday, May 06, 2005
Mormon Fever
Regarding books that come in spells. It seems like parenthood and religion are the thing now on my list. I tried to avoid it, somewhat, but I've got Bible story retellings (Rachel and Leah), religious autobiography (Son of a Preacher Man), and a teacher memoir (Dangerous Minds) from the library.
Leaving the Saints was just as good as I had hoped. Martha Beck is witty and perceptive, and does not suffer from cynicism in spite of a life that really should have engendered it. Funny without being ironically distant. Also, Mormons are wacky. Also, if you don't like your therapist, fire your therapist. That's what I say.
I also learned that a number of Bible stories I thought I knew are NOT actually Bible stories but Book of Mormon versions of them (thank you so very much, Orson Scott Card). My whole world is turned upside down.
Now I want to get a little bit away from the religious thing, mostly because I've gotten too deep into it. I read Travelling Mercies by Anne Lamott, and found it a little too preachy for me. I thought Son of a Preacher Man would be a somewhat skeptical indictment of mainstream Christianity and/or televangelism from Jay Bakker, son of the famous Bakkers. But it looks like he's a pretty mainstream (albeit tattooed) Christian, and the story itself looks a little haphazard and apologetic. So I might not even read it right now.
The parenthood/children thing I might be able to maintain, though. It's not so much a reading theme yet as on my mind, since I've been reading Rebecca's blog about Anna, and since I've been reading Dooce for a while now. I guess it's my online reading that's parenthood oriented. But there's a book called Raising America about the history of parenthood theory in the US--Dr. Spock to Dr. Phil--that I'm curious about.
And book club went well yesterday. After the renegade meeting, we might just see how the real thing pans out. I have hope again; this is a valuable thing.
Leaving the Saints was just as good as I had hoped. Martha Beck is witty and perceptive, and does not suffer from cynicism in spite of a life that really should have engendered it. Funny without being ironically distant. Also, Mormons are wacky. Also, if you don't like your therapist, fire your therapist. That's what I say.
I also learned that a number of Bible stories I thought I knew are NOT actually Bible stories but Book of Mormon versions of them (thank you so very much, Orson Scott Card). My whole world is turned upside down.
Now I want to get a little bit away from the religious thing, mostly because I've gotten too deep into it. I read Travelling Mercies by Anne Lamott, and found it a little too preachy for me. I thought Son of a Preacher Man would be a somewhat skeptical indictment of mainstream Christianity and/or televangelism from Jay Bakker, son of the famous Bakkers. But it looks like he's a pretty mainstream (albeit tattooed) Christian, and the story itself looks a little haphazard and apologetic. So I might not even read it right now.
The parenthood/children thing I might be able to maintain, though. It's not so much a reading theme yet as on my mind, since I've been reading Rebecca's blog about Anna, and since I've been reading Dooce for a while now. I guess it's my online reading that's parenthood oriented. But there's a book called Raising America about the history of parenthood theory in the US--Dr. Spock to Dr. Phil--that I'm curious about.
And book club went well yesterday. After the renegade meeting, we might just see how the real thing pans out. I have hope again; this is a valuable thing.
Monday, April 25, 2005
Another Book Club Thing
Katie and I have reached a compromise about this month's horrible Mainstream Book Club selection, The Epicure's Lament. I'm about 1/3 of the way through, and I hate it. Katie read a few pages and then skimmed the rest, and hates it. So she's going to use this amazing power of skimming that she has to get the whole plot down, and I'm going to find passages and details from the language in the 1/3 I've read, and we're going to pool our resources in our own little set of Cliff's Notes to avoid reading the rest.
Huzzah; it is an awful book.
Huzzah; it is an awful book.
Saturday, April 23, 2005
Fellow Alumni
Linden says she doesn't feel like there are a lot of good books out there to read, and she doesn't know where to find them, except through recommendations. This is how I do it:
I'm on the Boston area Williams alumni listserver. Amanda Eyre Ward, a Williams alum, was going to be reading from her new book. I couldn't make the reading (I really try not to do things that require me to trek too far out on the Green Line), but I looked her up at the library and idly checked out her first book, Sleep Toward Heaven. It was really quite a good book--simple, but true, and personal. She did a great job of creating three characters, and also of tying them together without (mostly) being heavy-handed about it.
This method is often hit-or-miss. It includes things like books that are reviewed on Slate, books that are mentioned in the reviews of other books, books that we read for book club, or that were considered for book club but discarded, or books I see on my friends' shelves, or on display at the bookstore. There are a lot of duds in this pile, though I think I'm a pretty good judge of what I'm going to enjoy at this point.
I've also gotten comfortable with stopping after 50 pages if I really don't like it. I'm getting older, my time is too valuable to waste. That's been a very liberating thing--I rarely have to regret picking a book up, because it never wastes more of my time than it's worth. Fifty pages of wasted time is worth experiencing a cautionary example.
For example, I'd stop reading The Epicure's Lament, if I didn't feel this dragging obligation of Book Club. Urg--another story.
I'm on the Boston area Williams alumni listserver. Amanda Eyre Ward, a Williams alum, was going to be reading from her new book. I couldn't make the reading (I really try not to do things that require me to trek too far out on the Green Line), but I looked her up at the library and idly checked out her first book, Sleep Toward Heaven. It was really quite a good book--simple, but true, and personal. She did a great job of creating three characters, and also of tying them together without (mostly) being heavy-handed about it.
This method is often hit-or-miss. It includes things like books that are reviewed on Slate, books that are mentioned in the reviews of other books, books that we read for book club, or that were considered for book club but discarded, or books I see on my friends' shelves, or on display at the bookstore. There are a lot of duds in this pile, though I think I'm a pretty good judge of what I'm going to enjoy at this point.
I've also gotten comfortable with stopping after 50 pages if I really don't like it. I'm getting older, my time is too valuable to waste. That's been a very liberating thing--I rarely have to regret picking a book up, because it never wastes more of my time than it's worth. Fifty pages of wasted time is worth experiencing a cautionary example.
For example, I'd stop reading The Epicure's Lament, if I didn't feel this dragging obligation of Book Club. Urg--another story.
Friday, April 15, 2005
Rhapsody
Kazuo Ishiguro wrote The Remains of the Day, which was a good movie, and which now I have to read, along with When We Were Orphans. And all this because I just finished his new book, Never Let Me Go, which was so good I had a really hard time returning it to the library. Which is not to say that I need to own it, but that when I finished it and sat back, I felt strongly like it wasn't really done with me.
It's deceptively simple--the voice of the main character is not of someone speaking poetry, or even trying. It's the voice of a friend of yours, a 30-year-old woman recounting stories from her private-school childhood. She tells them in the meandering way that one recounts one's own life, because in reality, a lifetime of moments do not all point to some cataclysmic ending. Rather, she tells stories she remembers, about her relationships with her best friends, about their growing up. Kathy will begin with a story that sticks out in her memory, then backtrack to an earlier incident that gives more meaning to the later incident, and hint at how it's affected who she is now.
But I think what makes this book wonderful is that it's about an alternate world. The England in the story is one with an alternate history, but only slightly. And the characters in the story inhabit an alternate society that lives side-by-side with the rest of us in their England, but it's not about us. Kathy is familiar, moreso than most characters in books, I think, because she is the same distance from you as people you meet--you're listening to her talk to you, rather than living inside her head with her. And that makes the separation of her world more poignant.
Also, the book is about injustice without being about change. I think this is very powerful. Almost every social injustice that has been or is being fought against was once and for a long time accepted as fact, without fanfare. I feel like there aren't a lot of those left--plenty of injustices, but few that aren't recognized. But these people live lives that make you at first want them to rise up and change things. Gradually, though, you realize this book isn't about change. It's about realization, and the meaning of life. It doesn't give answers, but yes, I'd say this book is about the meaning of life.
It's deceptively simple--the voice of the main character is not of someone speaking poetry, or even trying. It's the voice of a friend of yours, a 30-year-old woman recounting stories from her private-school childhood. She tells them in the meandering way that one recounts one's own life, because in reality, a lifetime of moments do not all point to some cataclysmic ending. Rather, she tells stories she remembers, about her relationships with her best friends, about their growing up. Kathy will begin with a story that sticks out in her memory, then backtrack to an earlier incident that gives more meaning to the later incident, and hint at how it's affected who she is now.
But I think what makes this book wonderful is that it's about an alternate world. The England in the story is one with an alternate history, but only slightly. And the characters in the story inhabit an alternate society that lives side-by-side with the rest of us in their England, but it's not about us. Kathy is familiar, moreso than most characters in books, I think, because she is the same distance from you as people you meet--you're listening to her talk to you, rather than living inside her head with her. And that makes the separation of her world more poignant.
Also, the book is about injustice without being about change. I think this is very powerful. Almost every social injustice that has been or is being fought against was once and for a long time accepted as fact, without fanfare. I feel like there aren't a lot of those left--plenty of injustices, but few that aren't recognized. But these people live lives that make you at first want them to rise up and change things. Gradually, though, you realize this book isn't about change. It's about realization, and the meaning of life. It doesn't give answers, but yes, I'd say this book is about the meaning of life.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
On a Promised Topic
The good news is that I can release a little of my library list guilt. I just realized that at least 17 of the titles on that list are not so much things that I want to read as things that I want to remember the existence of so that I might someday go back to read them. This means that there are not 50 books I'm trying to cram into my brain at the same time--only 33.
As advertised: Why I Didn't Finish Up the Down Staircase. I expected a book about teaching, and this is a book about having a job. This young woman, just out of graduate school, who has studied English with passion and has been excited to share it with students arrives at her first teaching job to discover that it's not what she expected. This is exactly what I signed on for--excellent!
But what she found had nothing at all to do with students or connecting to people. It was about bureaucracy, bosses who micromanage trivial things, other bosses who are oblivious to reality, janitors who don't show up. There has been one scene that even involved students, and that was based entirely arounder there being too many directives from the office and a broken window that nobody would clean up. It was in no way about students.
The structure of the novel makes this feel inevitable. It's an assemblage of memos from the office, clippings from the school paper, notes written back and forth between teachers, and letters to the main character's friends. This leaves a lot of room for her to talk about the nitty gritty of her day-to-day, but not a lot for actual interaction with people.
It's too bad--I saw the play based on this book once, and it was quite good. Probably there's a story in here somewhere, but it's a long book, I'm not enjoying it, and I've got other things to do. I'm going to read Dangerous Minds, though, because I suspect that book will fulfill my need for a story about teachers reaching out to kids who aren't eager to learn.
Also, a note on my observation that books I read come in waves I can't necessarily predict: I'm currently reading three books about people with genetic abnormalities. Expecting Adam, about a woman who finds out her unborn son has Down's Syndrome, Middlesex, about a child who is born with ambiguous genetalia and is raised a girl, only to grow up and find out himself a man, and Fearless, a really TERRIBLE young adult book (by the Sweet Valley High author, if that tells you anything) about a girl "born without the fear gene." Ugh.
As advertised: Why I Didn't Finish Up the Down Staircase. I expected a book about teaching, and this is a book about having a job. This young woman, just out of graduate school, who has studied English with passion and has been excited to share it with students arrives at her first teaching job to discover that it's not what she expected. This is exactly what I signed on for--excellent!
But what she found had nothing at all to do with students or connecting to people. It was about bureaucracy, bosses who micromanage trivial things, other bosses who are oblivious to reality, janitors who don't show up. There has been one scene that even involved students, and that was based entirely arounder there being too many directives from the office and a broken window that nobody would clean up. It was in no way about students.
The structure of the novel makes this feel inevitable. It's an assemblage of memos from the office, clippings from the school paper, notes written back and forth between teachers, and letters to the main character's friends. This leaves a lot of room for her to talk about the nitty gritty of her day-to-day, but not a lot for actual interaction with people.
It's too bad--I saw the play based on this book once, and it was quite good. Probably there's a story in here somewhere, but it's a long book, I'm not enjoying it, and I've got other things to do. I'm going to read Dangerous Minds, though, because I suspect that book will fulfill my need for a story about teachers reaching out to kids who aren't eager to learn.
Also, a note on my observation that books I read come in waves I can't necessarily predict: I'm currently reading three books about people with genetic abnormalities. Expecting Adam, about a woman who finds out her unborn son has Down's Syndrome, Middlesex, about a child who is born with ambiguous genetalia and is raised a girl, only to grow up and find out himself a man, and Fearless, a really TERRIBLE young adult book (by the Sweet Valley High author, if that tells you anything) about a girl "born without the fear gene." Ugh.
Monday, April 04, 2005
Slacker
March has been a wonderful and horrible month. Work has been draining and hideous, I've felt overcommitted and have not had enough rest or kept my personal life in the state I prefer it. On the wonderful side, Mike and I both got promoted and engaged. So I guess this month goes down in history, huh?
I hold out hope for April, in part by refreshing here. March doesn't actually end for me, work-wise, till next week (courses pub this Friday, next week devoted to troubleshooting, and then we're back in the land of the normals). So I will stop here long enough to say: more soon.
And also to make the point--where does the BPL order their books? The two books I want to read have been "On Order" for weeks now. If they would just use Amazon, they'd have them by now. I really wish I could work there part time, processing new books or something tedious and refreshing like that. But they won't hire you unless you live in the city of Boston. What kind of a deal is that?
Updates I owe: Why I didn't finish Up the Down Staircase. How Mr. Wilson's Cabinet of Wonders reminded me of college. And, long overdue, What I thought of my first Joyce Carol Oates novel.
I hold out hope for April, in part by refreshing here. March doesn't actually end for me, work-wise, till next week (courses pub this Friday, next week devoted to troubleshooting, and then we're back in the land of the normals). So I will stop here long enough to say: more soon.
And also to make the point--where does the BPL order their books? The two books I want to read have been "On Order" for weeks now. If they would just use Amazon, they'd have them by now. I really wish I could work there part time, processing new books or something tedious and refreshing like that. But they won't hire you unless you live in the city of Boston. What kind of a deal is that?
Updates I owe: Why I didn't finish Up the Down Staircase. How Mr. Wilson's Cabinet of Wonders reminded me of college. And, long overdue, What I thought of my first Joyce Carol Oates novel.
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Not a Busy Weekend
Tomorrow is Pi Day (3/14), and being a math-based business, we celebrate. There are actually very few math geeks in my office--many more grammar geeks--but there's no dessert-based quasi-holiday centering around grammar, so we get behind Pi. I made strawberry pie.
I finished two books this weekend--my first Ursula LeGuin, Gifts. I've read a novella of hers, called Solitude, which was excellent, and I liked Gifts as well. She has a deft touch at worldbuilding--she captures the depth of reality without giving you more than you need to know; she creates a place where you know and believe that people live these lives even after you, the reader, stop paying attention. The story itself is fairly standard and low-key, and it's much more about the experience of a certain life and its implications.
And Baggage, which was somewhere between drama and chick lit. It doesn't quite come together the way you'd expect it to. She's on the run, she's about to get found out...mostly it's about dealing with a media hubbub, but the first half is so much lead-up that you expect the end to be a little more pointed. It was definitely a fun read, though, with a lot of funny moments, especially about pregnancy and in-laws, and a lot of interesting characterization. A woman who changed herself to someone else, personality-wise, to escape, but who finds weird bits of the old person lying around. But she's not crazy, or evil, or anything. She just does thing in the most complicated way possible.
Anyway, I'm diving into the tough stuff now--Gilead and Black Water. The latter is short but, being Joyce Carol Oates, requires brain-power. Wish me luck.
I finished two books this weekend--my first Ursula LeGuin, Gifts. I've read a novella of hers, called Solitude, which was excellent, and I liked Gifts as well. She has a deft touch at worldbuilding--she captures the depth of reality without giving you more than you need to know; she creates a place where you know and believe that people live these lives even after you, the reader, stop paying attention. The story itself is fairly standard and low-key, and it's much more about the experience of a certain life and its implications.
And Baggage, which was somewhere between drama and chick lit. It doesn't quite come together the way you'd expect it to. She's on the run, she's about to get found out...mostly it's about dealing with a media hubbub, but the first half is so much lead-up that you expect the end to be a little more pointed. It was definitely a fun read, though, with a lot of funny moments, especially about pregnancy and in-laws, and a lot of interesting characterization. A woman who changed herself to someone else, personality-wise, to escape, but who finds weird bits of the old person lying around. But she's not crazy, or evil, or anything. She just does thing in the most complicated way possible.
Anyway, I'm diving into the tough stuff now--Gilead and Black Water. The latter is short but, being Joyce Carol Oates, requires brain-power. Wish me luck.
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