1sibylline
Well, here I am once again. This year I will dial back to a modest goal of reading 16 books that have been mouldering away on my shelves, in twos in the following categories
FICTION:
- contemporary
---1. FINISHED My Struggle: Book 6 Karl Ove Knausgård
---2.
- classic works
---1&2. FINISHEDThe Adventures of Sherlock Holmes Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
- mysteries
---1. FINISHED Silent Voices Ann Cleeves
---2.
- sf classics
---1. FINISHED Forerunner Andre Norton
---2. FINISHED Roadside Picnic Arkady &
Boris Strugatsky
- fantasy or space opera
---1. Finished Ammonite Nicola Griffith
---2. finished The Faded Sun Trilogy C.J. Cherryh
TOTAL OF 10
NON FICTION
- biography
---1.FINISHED: Nora: The Real Life of Molly Bloom Brenda Maddox
---2.
history
---1. FINISHED The Book of English Magic Philip Carr-Gomm Richard Heygate
---2.
- open choice
---1. FINISHED A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again David Foster Wallace (essays)
---2.
TOTAL OF 6
=16!
I really hope to be able to reach this goal!
FICTION:
- contemporary
---1. FINISHED My Struggle: Book 6 Karl Ove Knausgård
---2.
- classic works
---1&2. FINISHEDThe Adventures of Sherlock Holmes Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
- mysteries
---1. FINISHED Silent Voices Ann Cleeves
---2.
- sf classics
---1. FINISHED Forerunner Andre Norton
---2. FINISHED Roadside Picnic Arkady &
Boris Strugatsky
- fantasy or space opera
---1. Finished Ammonite Nicola Griffith
---2. finished The Faded Sun Trilogy C.J. Cherryh
TOTAL OF 10
NON FICTION
- biography
---1.FINISHED: Nora: The Real Life of Molly Bloom Brenda Maddox
---2.
history
---1. FINISHED The Book of English Magic Philip Carr-Gomm Richard Heygate
---2.
- open choice
---1. FINISHED A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again David Foster Wallace (essays)
---2.
TOTAL OF 6
=16!
I really hope to be able to reach this goal!
3sibylline
>1 sibylline: Thank you! Good to be here.
6rabbitprincess
Welcome back and have a great reading year!
7MissWatson
Welcome back and happy ROOTing!
8sibylline
1.
literary bio ****
Nora: The Real Life of Molly Bloom Brenda Maddox
As I close the final page of any biography I usually feel a little melancholy, sometimes awe and gladness to have gotten to know a remarkable person. Sometimes too I wish I hadn't learned so much. In the case of the Joyces it was mostly the latter two, in an even mix of awe and dismay. I was glad to know Nora better, less glad to know Joyce (the person, not the writer). The two of them as a couple? Maddox builds a strong case that no one except Nora really had a clue about the man -- which he well knew and which, in some ways formed the bedrock basis of their marriage, that is, she knew he was a remarkable genius with language as well as who he was as a man. As well, he knew who Nora was and to him, she wasn't what other people saw (Nora was from Galway! Western Ireland was the back of beyond in a country that was already the back of beyond therefore she had to be rough and stupid.) Nor was Nora Molly Bloom. For one, she was utterly faithful to Joyce. She was intelligent albeit not well educated, a big difference. Joyce loved her voice, and loved the way she put words together, listened intently to her cadences but the most remarkable thing was that she was Herself. Grounded. Solid. Steady. After ten years on the continent, she spoke fluent Italian and German and later in life learned passable French, knew countless operas (which she adored) by heart. She dressed elegantly, could cook perfectly well --- a good deal of the time they lived in horrible rooms in mediocre hotels with no kitchen and so had to eat out -- others assumed they ate out because she couldn't cook. Not so. Joyce found her presence necessary to him to keep him from flying apart and Nora obliged because he never ceased to surprise her with his own wit and observations and she loved his singing voice and, as I said, agreed with him that he was something special. They loved each other. Ah well -- they were also spendthrifts and dreadful parents, really abominable, but clearly loved their children. Once the two reached young adulthood the Joyces couldn't accept it and made bad decision after bad decision to keep them both too close, tough reading. Through it all Joyce wrote and wrote. He died not long after finishing Finnegan's Wake as if once he had emptied himself, he had no further reason to live. Nora went on for another ten years or so, in part to care for her grandchild. I have to say that my vision of the Joyces is one of unrelieved chaos, disturbing and sad overall, but out of which, somehow, came the most remarkable literary work of the 20th century. ****
HOORAY!
15 to go!
literary bio ****Nora: The Real Life of Molly Bloom Brenda Maddox
As I close the final page of any biography I usually feel a little melancholy, sometimes awe and gladness to have gotten to know a remarkable person. Sometimes too I wish I hadn't learned so much. In the case of the Joyces it was mostly the latter two, in an even mix of awe and dismay. I was glad to know Nora better, less glad to know Joyce (the person, not the writer). The two of them as a couple? Maddox builds a strong case that no one except Nora really had a clue about the man -- which he well knew and which, in some ways formed the bedrock basis of their marriage, that is, she knew he was a remarkable genius with language as well as who he was as a man. As well, he knew who Nora was and to him, she wasn't what other people saw (Nora was from Galway! Western Ireland was the back of beyond in a country that was already the back of beyond therefore she had to be rough and stupid.) Nor was Nora Molly Bloom. For one, she was utterly faithful to Joyce. She was intelligent albeit not well educated, a big difference. Joyce loved her voice, and loved the way she put words together, listened intently to her cadences but the most remarkable thing was that she was Herself. Grounded. Solid. Steady. After ten years on the continent, she spoke fluent Italian and German and later in life learned passable French, knew countless operas (which she adored) by heart. She dressed elegantly, could cook perfectly well --- a good deal of the time they lived in horrible rooms in mediocre hotels with no kitchen and so had to eat out -- others assumed they ate out because she couldn't cook. Not so. Joyce found her presence necessary to him to keep him from flying apart and Nora obliged because he never ceased to surprise her with his own wit and observations and she loved his singing voice and, as I said, agreed with him that he was something special. They loved each other. Ah well -- they were also spendthrifts and dreadful parents, really abominable, but clearly loved their children. Once the two reached young adulthood the Joyces couldn't accept it and made bad decision after bad decision to keep them both too close, tough reading. Through it all Joyce wrote and wrote. He died not long after finishing Finnegan's Wake as if once he had emptied himself, he had no further reason to live. Nora went on for another ten years or so, in part to care for her grandchild. I have to say that my vision of the Joyces is one of unrelieved chaos, disturbing and sad overall, but out of which, somehow, came the most remarkable literary work of the 20th century. ****
HOORAY!
15 to go!
9Caramellunacy
>8 sibylline: How interesting! I confess to never having read any Joyce, but have been intrigued by Nora since I listened to the Annotated podcast about Ulysses.
10sibylline
2.
magic history ****1/2
The Book of English Magic Philip Carr-Gomm Richard Heygate
The Book of English Magic has languished for several years on my shelves, I picked it up once and began and put it down, who knows why. This time I persevered and I'm glad I did. Nowhere does this book plumb the depths, but that is not their purpose. The authors visit every kind of magic ever practiced in England (this is exclusively England, not Wales, not Scotland). Gradually one begins to see a country that has only ever uneasily accepted either pure religion or science (and the never the twain shall meet mentality). (Neighboring Wales and Scotland and Ireland too are similar, but they have their own traditions and histories re magic.) From pre-history to the Middle Ages the authors lay out the progression, from the scant leavings of the first residents, then Druids, Anglo-Saxons, the Arthur legends (which begin as a slender shoot, hardly more than a suggestion and grow and grow and grow until you have an immense many-limbed tree of myth and story). Around then practices of magic begin to take shape, black and white, herbal, alchemy, the quest for power, scrying, dowsing and on until you get to the late nineteenth century which blossomed with societies and factions and dramatic characters like Madame Blavatsky and Aleister Crowley and ending with mention of some of the modern societies and some of their own words from practitioners, living or long gone. After each chapter the authors offer further reading, often fiction, and also places you can visit, things you can do, a way to make a charm, or the first steps of tarot reading . . . tastes. They make the point that magic as it is practiced today, attempts to (or seems to) fill the void (chasm?) between the bloody-mindedness of the pure scientific method and the rigidity that plagues (most) religions (I'm the right one, all you others have it wrong). Magic, too, offers so many choices to the person who is looking for a route to transformation -- there is no one right way, indeed, some are gifted in one area, not another, and for some of us there is choosing to be an armchair magician -- that is the person (like me!) who, while interested, is not drawn to any practice or any one mode but fascinated nonetheless, particularly by magic as a spiritual practice and route to transformation and to explore the dimensions of the human mind. For us, there is a huge bibliography. So this will be a reference work for me. Anyone interested in writing fantasy should avail themselves of the book and get busy reading the book and then the books in the bibliography. You can bet your booties that J.K. Rowling and Susannah Clarke did their homework.
I'll be back to tidy up, but for now, here you go!
magic history ****1/2The Book of English Magic Philip Carr-Gomm Richard Heygate
The Book of English Magic has languished for several years on my shelves, I picked it up once and began and put it down, who knows why. This time I persevered and I'm glad I did. Nowhere does this book plumb the depths, but that is not their purpose. The authors visit every kind of magic ever practiced in England (this is exclusively England, not Wales, not Scotland). Gradually one begins to see a country that has only ever uneasily accepted either pure religion or science (and the never the twain shall meet mentality). (Neighboring Wales and Scotland and Ireland too are similar, but they have their own traditions and histories re magic.) From pre-history to the Middle Ages the authors lay out the progression, from the scant leavings of the first residents, then Druids, Anglo-Saxons, the Arthur legends (which begin as a slender shoot, hardly more than a suggestion and grow and grow and grow until you have an immense many-limbed tree of myth and story). Around then practices of magic begin to take shape, black and white, herbal, alchemy, the quest for power, scrying, dowsing and on until you get to the late nineteenth century which blossomed with societies and factions and dramatic characters like Madame Blavatsky and Aleister Crowley and ending with mention of some of the modern societies and some of their own words from practitioners, living or long gone. After each chapter the authors offer further reading, often fiction, and also places you can visit, things you can do, a way to make a charm, or the first steps of tarot reading . . . tastes. They make the point that magic as it is practiced today, attempts to (or seems to) fill the void (chasm?) between the bloody-mindedness of the pure scientific method and the rigidity that plagues (most) religions (I'm the right one, all you others have it wrong). Magic, too, offers so many choices to the person who is looking for a route to transformation -- there is no one right way, indeed, some are gifted in one area, not another, and for some of us there is choosing to be an armchair magician -- that is the person (like me!) who, while interested, is not drawn to any practice or any one mode but fascinated nonetheless, particularly by magic as a spiritual practice and route to transformation and to explore the dimensions of the human mind. For us, there is a huge bibliography. So this will be a reference work for me. Anyone interested in writing fantasy should avail themselves of the book and get busy reading the book and then the books in the bibliography. You can bet your booties that J.K. Rowling and Susannah Clarke did their homework.
I'll be back to tidy up, but for now, here you go!
11connie53
>10 sibylline: Nice review, Lucy. I don't think you have to tidy up anything!.
12sibylline
>11 connie53: Thank you, Connie. Really helps me to write these more detailed comments when I want to remember the book!
13sibylline
3. 
essays - the good ones are *****'s
A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again David Foster Wallace
I suspect that if all the topics DFW takes up in these essays interest you: tennis, academic literary philosophy of the last forty years, state fairs in the midwest (Illinois in this case), more tennis, and spending a week on a luxury megacruiser . . . then you would be in a state of ecstasy and wonderment. I wasn't sure I was interested in any of these topics, and that proved to be true for tennis and also for the deconstructionists etcetera, which has always struck me as the kind of foolishness that (appropriately) gives academia a bad name. However the two on 'human folly' are brilliant, beyond brilliant. In both cases Harper magazine paid DFW to investigate these phenomena in person, to give his unvarnished unblinking take. In the state fair piece, he wanders the fairgrounds in 90 plus degree heat for six or seven days, watching people, among other things, eat, show off farm animals, dance, throw batons, and take rides guaranteed to make them throw up. Throughout, both the fair and the luxury cruise, he exists mostly in a state of uncomfortable bafflement and shame that he can't understand not even one tiny bit why anyone would want to go the a huge fair or on a cruise, to the degree that no doubt he couldn't help wondering if he wasn't some kind of alien being. The operant word in the cruise was 'pamper' -- and I expect that overlap of diaper and being taken care of like a baby -- got fixed in his mind then and used later to such effect in IJ. The writing is sublime and there is humour, pathos, startling insight, brutally clear description and always the kindness to the foibles of humanity that DFW is known for .. all the qualities that made him so amazing. I found myself missing his presence among us terribly. We could use his insights now. ****1/2 (five stars for the Fair and the Cruise)
essays - the good ones are *****'sA Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again David Foster Wallace
I suspect that if all the topics DFW takes up in these essays interest you: tennis, academic literary philosophy of the last forty years, state fairs in the midwest (Illinois in this case), more tennis, and spending a week on a luxury megacruiser . . . then you would be in a state of ecstasy and wonderment. I wasn't sure I was interested in any of these topics, and that proved to be true for tennis and also for the deconstructionists etcetera, which has always struck me as the kind of foolishness that (appropriately) gives academia a bad name. However the two on 'human folly' are brilliant, beyond brilliant. In both cases Harper magazine paid DFW to investigate these phenomena in person, to give his unvarnished unblinking take. In the state fair piece, he wanders the fairgrounds in 90 plus degree heat for six or seven days, watching people, among other things, eat, show off farm animals, dance, throw batons, and take rides guaranteed to make them throw up. Throughout, both the fair and the luxury cruise, he exists mostly in a state of uncomfortable bafflement and shame that he can't understand not even one tiny bit why anyone would want to go the a huge fair or on a cruise, to the degree that no doubt he couldn't help wondering if he wasn't some kind of alien being. The operant word in the cruise was 'pamper' -- and I expect that overlap of diaper and being taken care of like a baby -- got fixed in his mind then and used later to such effect in IJ. The writing is sublime and there is humour, pathos, startling insight, brutally clear description and always the kindness to the foibles of humanity that DFW is known for .. all the qualities that made him so amazing. I found myself missing his presence among us terribly. We could use his insights now. ****1/2 (five stars for the Fair and the Cruise)
15sibylline
>14 connie53: Thank you so much for stopping by and the same to you!
16sibylline
4. 
sf ****
Forerunner Andre Norton
What fun! Simsa has grown up in the Burrows under the care of "the Old One" a wise old woman -- who has advised her to hide her white hair, brows and lashes and to dress to look like a boy. But her caretaker has died. Simsa knows she will soon be attacked (well, raped) and taken to a Guild Lord as a toy and gathers up all the Old One's treasures and goes to meet the next incoming trader vessel from space. One of these spacers, Thom, and she connect and soon Simsa finds herself embarked on more adventure than she bargained for as Thom heads out into the desertlands to find out what happened to his brother. They don't find him but Simsa finds enlightenment about her heritage. Simsa is accompanied by a crippled flying creature, Zass, kind of bat/cat/moth -- a fearful predator at all events -- and her two 'sons'. The story is great. As ever, I get a little weary of Norton's arch and formal prose style, but whatever. This is a true classic. ****
sf ****Forerunner Andre Norton
What fun! Simsa has grown up in the Burrows under the care of "the Old One" a wise old woman -- who has advised her to hide her white hair, brows and lashes and to dress to look like a boy. But her caretaker has died. Simsa knows she will soon be attacked (well, raped) and taken to a Guild Lord as a toy and gathers up all the Old One's treasures and goes to meet the next incoming trader vessel from space. One of these spacers, Thom, and she connect and soon Simsa finds herself embarked on more adventure than she bargained for as Thom heads out into the desertlands to find out what happened to his brother. They don't find him but Simsa finds enlightenment about her heritage. Simsa is accompanied by a crippled flying creature, Zass, kind of bat/cat/moth -- a fearful predator at all events -- and her two 'sons'. The story is great. As ever, I get a little weary of Norton's arch and formal prose style, but whatever. This is a true classic. ****
17sibylline
5. 
classic SF *****
Roadside Picnic Arkady & Boris Strugatsky
An (unspecified) time ago spaceships landed in several places along the same latitude. They stayed a very short while and then left, but in their wake they left . . . depending on your point of view, potentially miraculous technology or fatally dangerous trash. Not normal trash, but objects and slime that burns, and and spatial anomalies that can tear a person apart and . . . the list goes on and on. But some of the stuff is unbelievably useful even if people have no idea how any of these objects (say, batteries) that never run out of power and, if encouraged even multiply!. In this (unspecified) country, not the Soviet Union, and western culturally, a black market thrives alongside the governmental research agencies despite all efforts to curb them. Stalkers, if they aren't immediately killed, gradually learn their way around and to recognize potentially useful things. The aliens made no attempt to communicate with the humans and Why Not? is a burning issue. Is this a test? Was this just a casual stop, a look around, or even, as is suggested, no more than what humans used to sometimes do in a rest area, eat a picnic and dump all the trash cluttering up their car or camper and take off. Maybe they never even noticed there was anything remotely like a civilization. Maybe we aren't even close yet (if ever). I loved everything in the novel: Redrick Schuhart is a fully rounded person (somewhat unusual in SF until more recently, it must be admitted--and this came out in 1972) and many minor characters are developed exactly as necessary, the dialogue is excellent (in all good translations, Russian dialogue tends to be good), the plot is perfect and intertwines with the thematic/philosophical content. Also -- the novel barely feels dated perhaps because the emphasis on people as they are is so true and ever-unchanging. I've often wondered if we aren't insane thinking that some alien culture might be delighted with us. In this one, it's clear to me, anyway, that we are beneath notice. Just. Wow. *****
classic SF *****Roadside Picnic Arkady & Boris Strugatsky
An (unspecified) time ago spaceships landed in several places along the same latitude. They stayed a very short while and then left, but in their wake they left . . . depending on your point of view, potentially miraculous technology or fatally dangerous trash. Not normal trash, but objects and slime that burns, and and spatial anomalies that can tear a person apart and . . . the list goes on and on. But some of the stuff is unbelievably useful even if people have no idea how any of these objects (say, batteries) that never run out of power and, if encouraged even multiply!. In this (unspecified) country, not the Soviet Union, and western culturally, a black market thrives alongside the governmental research agencies despite all efforts to curb them. Stalkers, if they aren't immediately killed, gradually learn their way around and to recognize potentially useful things. The aliens made no attempt to communicate with the humans and Why Not? is a burning issue. Is this a test? Was this just a casual stop, a look around, or even, as is suggested, no more than what humans used to sometimes do in a rest area, eat a picnic and dump all the trash cluttering up their car or camper and take off. Maybe they never even noticed there was anything remotely like a civilization. Maybe we aren't even close yet (if ever). I loved everything in the novel: Redrick Schuhart is a fully rounded person (somewhat unusual in SF until more recently, it must be admitted--and this came out in 1972) and many minor characters are developed exactly as necessary, the dialogue is excellent (in all good translations, Russian dialogue tends to be good), the plot is perfect and intertwines with the thematic/philosophical content. Also -- the novel barely feels dated perhaps because the emphasis on people as they are is so true and ever-unchanging. I've often wondered if we aren't insane thinking that some alien culture might be delighted with us. In this one, it's clear to me, anyway, that we are beneath notice. Just. Wow. *****
18MissWatson
>17 sibylline: That is a great review. I have this on the TBR somewhere, must unearth it now...
19sibylline
>18 MissWatson: Thank you. I noticed all kinds of little errors and fixed the comments -- I get very excited when I love a book and all the punctuation, typos etc. get by me.
Do you know there is a movie that Tarkovsky made in the 90's (I think)? I am not sure I want to see it as it is 'based' on the book . . . I maybe loved the book too much for anything that is not faithful to the core ideas. This english translation has all the text restored (removed by Soviet censorship) and so well done.
Do you know there is a movie that Tarkovsky made in the 90's (I think)? I am not sure I want to see it as it is 'based' on the book . . . I maybe loved the book too much for anything that is not faithful to the core ideas. This english translation has all the text restored (removed by Soviet censorship) and so well done.
20MissWatson
>19 sibylline: That's Stalker, isn't it? I don't think it has much in common with the book, as I remember the film.
21sibylline
Yes, it is -- and although it looks like a very interesting film indeed, how could anything Tarkovsky not be, I did read a bit about it - he focusses on Shuhart's final quest, to find this rumored golden ball thingie - - totally leaves out the whole point, as far as I'm concerned. Even Shuhart isn't thinking about any of that at the end. He's thinking about the aliens, duh and our place in the universe. (not really a spoiler, i don't think?)
22MissWatson
No, not a spoiler :-). But I think I'll save this for a quiet weekend, it needs full attention.
23connie53
>17 sibylline: That sounds good! I asked my brother to find me the Dutch translation. Thanks for the BB, Lucy.
24sibylline
6. 
*** mystery
Silent Voices Ann Cleeves
This likely will be my only Vera. My spouse loves Cleeves, but I don't know. There's a moment where she talks with her mouth full of cake, spewing crumbs all about, and I thought, OK, that's a little over the top. I get that Vera is socially inept, easily angered, has an appetite etcetera, but I don't need it ground into me. The actress who plays Vera in the tv version conveys a character a bit more subtle, but I've stopped watching those too, the sadness, gore quotient etc too much. But back to the book. Not a gory one but the plot also was a bit too much of a stretch into improbability for me too. A woman, senior social worker, is murdered at a health club, Vera who has been told by her doctor to exercise swims there herself and discovers the body in the steam room after her swim. I could have stopped right there I guess. I also figured out who the murderer had to be early on. Sorry to any Cleeves fans! ***
*** mysterySilent Voices Ann Cleeves
This likely will be my only Vera. My spouse loves Cleeves, but I don't know. There's a moment where she talks with her mouth full of cake, spewing crumbs all about, and I thought, OK, that's a little over the top. I get that Vera is socially inept, easily angered, has an appetite etcetera, but I don't need it ground into me. The actress who plays Vera in the tv version conveys a character a bit more subtle, but I've stopped watching those too, the sadness, gore quotient etc too much. But back to the book. Not a gory one but the plot also was a bit too much of a stretch into improbability for me too. A woman, senior social worker, is murdered at a health club, Vera who has been told by her doctor to exercise swims there herself and discovers the body in the steam room after her swim. I could have stopped right there I guess. I also figured out who the murderer had to be early on. Sorry to any Cleeves fans! ***
