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1eldashwood
Hello, all! I've just joined, but here are the books I've finished since January 1.
1. Emma - Jane Austen
2. Blandings Castle - P. G. Wodehouse
3. Her Fearful Symmetry - Audrey Niffenegger
4. The Constant Gardener - John Le Carre
I'll update again when I have something to say!
1. Emma - Jane Austen
2. Blandings Castle - P. G. Wodehouse
3. Her Fearful Symmetry - Audrey Niffenegger
4. The Constant Gardener - John Le Carre
I'll update again when I have something to say!
2tjblue
I read your profile and am sorry to hear about your misfortune!!!! May 2010 be a better year for you and good luck with your challenge.
3eldashwood
Thank you! I'm looking forward to keeping the books organized as they accumulate.
5eldashwood
7. Fingersmith - Sarah Waters
6eldashwood
8. Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason - Helen Fielding
7eldashwood
Today, I looked on the sidebar and realized the "touchstones" I've seen throughout this community are really, really easy to write in.
Getting to 50 books shouldn't be overly difficult for me... I don't watch much TV and spend a good deal of time reading during my lunch hour and on the train. What will be challenging is reviewing them, so I'm going to try to throw in my two cents as well.
Therefore:
9. Surfacing - Margaret Atwood
I liked this book, but in a weird, distant, "Why am I reading this?" kind of way. I infinitely preferred her other novels that I've read (namely Alias Grace and The Handmaid's Tale), partially because the plots are far more straightforward. It's fragmented and bizarre, but oddly compelling at the same time.
Surfacing is a novel about a woman attempting to piece back together her emotional tracking and find her missing father. Most of it takes place camping in backwoods Canada with another couple, where the unnamed narrator pits herself against humans (aligned instead with animals), notes schisms between men and women, and forces her past into sudden and harsh perspective.
Most of the beauty in Surfacing shows up in unexpected moments: repressed memories, for example, or glimpses of the narrator's wartime childhood with no concept of a holocaust. She comes across as emotionally castrated a lot of the time, cataloging her lover's expressions in order to replicate them later to blend in as a "feeling" being.
Atwood's images of violence against animals unsettle the narrator more than the casual cruelties inflicted by one of the friends who accompanied her (the running gag is that he jokes all the time, but he's not funny). They're sudden and startling, and many of them are commonplace -- fishing, hunting, powering a motorboat -- but just as many seem pointless and destructive rather than necessary for animalistic survival.
All in all, interesting, but I doubt I'm going to read it again.
Getting to 50 books shouldn't be overly difficult for me... I don't watch much TV and spend a good deal of time reading during my lunch hour and on the train. What will be challenging is reviewing them, so I'm going to try to throw in my two cents as well.
Therefore:
9. Surfacing - Margaret Atwood
I liked this book, but in a weird, distant, "Why am I reading this?" kind of way. I infinitely preferred her other novels that I've read (namely Alias Grace and The Handmaid's Tale), partially because the plots are far more straightforward. It's fragmented and bizarre, but oddly compelling at the same time.
Surfacing is a novel about a woman attempting to piece back together her emotional tracking and find her missing father. Most of it takes place camping in backwoods Canada with another couple, where the unnamed narrator pits herself against humans (aligned instead with animals), notes schisms between men and women, and forces her past into sudden and harsh perspective.
Most of the beauty in Surfacing shows up in unexpected moments: repressed memories, for example, or glimpses of the narrator's wartime childhood with no concept of a holocaust. She comes across as emotionally castrated a lot of the time, cataloging her lover's expressions in order to replicate them later to blend in as a "feeling" being.
Atwood's images of violence against animals unsettle the narrator more than the casual cruelties inflicted by one of the friends who accompanied her (the running gag is that he jokes all the time, but he's not funny). They're sudden and startling, and many of them are commonplace -- fishing, hunting, powering a motorboat -- but just as many seem pointless and destructive rather than necessary for animalistic survival.
All in all, interesting, but I doubt I'm going to read it again.
9eldashwood
tjblue, she's definitely worth a shot. Even if the book isn't something I fall in love with, everything I've read by her has been beautifully written and made me think.
I decided I'd been reading a lot of Western lit, so I took a break and moved East.
10. The Elephant Vanishes - Haruki Murakami
I'd never read Murakami before, and my decision to pick up this particular book actually had very little to do with its contents. I work in a college, and the library is three floors above me. I commute an hour to work, so I just don't feel like driving to the library by my house during the week. LibraryThing recommended Murakami, and The Elephant Vanishes just happened to be on the shelf. It turned out to be a selection of short stories from different perspectives.
I enjoyed this book immensely. Some stories were more fun than others, obviously, but Murakami's narrators come across as tongue in cheek. They range from people who don't take life seriously enough to those who take it far too seriously, from situations realistic to absurd. A lot of the writing was charming, and it's certainly the only book I've read to include stories about disappearing elephants, magical dancing dwarves, insomnia, and randomly generated decisions to rob fast food franchises.
Overall, amusing, engrossing, and light enough to read during my lunch hour.
I decided I'd been reading a lot of Western lit, so I took a break and moved East.
10. The Elephant Vanishes - Haruki Murakami
I'd never read Murakami before, and my decision to pick up this particular book actually had very little to do with its contents. I work in a college, and the library is three floors above me. I commute an hour to work, so I just don't feel like driving to the library by my house during the week. LibraryThing recommended Murakami, and The Elephant Vanishes just happened to be on the shelf. It turned out to be a selection of short stories from different perspectives.
I enjoyed this book immensely. Some stories were more fun than others, obviously, but Murakami's narrators come across as tongue in cheek. They range from people who don't take life seriously enough to those who take it far too seriously, from situations realistic to absurd. A lot of the writing was charming, and it's certainly the only book I've read to include stories about disappearing elephants, magical dancing dwarves, insomnia, and randomly generated decisions to rob fast food franchises.
Overall, amusing, engrossing, and light enough to read during my lunch hour.
10Feefy
Hi Eldashwood! What did you think of Fingersmith? I loved the way there were so many twists!
11tjblue
There will be a group read of one of Murakami's books going on over in the 75 group I think the end of April,beginning of May. The group is deciding on either Norwegian Wood or The Wind Up Bird Chronicles. Anyone is welcome to join. Right now we are finishing up World Without End by Ken Follett. In March we are reading Midnight's Children by Rushdie. This group is set up by msf59, but there are other groups set up by other individuals also. I'm also reading Moby Dick with another group. I hope you go over to the 75 page and check it out.
12eldashwood
Hi back, Bookbugg!
I loved it! I probably should go back and review it, but it's one of those books where I honestly am not sure what to say. I thought it was brilliantly conceived, the premise was fantastic, and there was definite character payoff. Also, I'm a big fan of symmetry. Luckily for me, so is Sarah Waters. And dear god, her language choice is just pretty.
See? I can't review Waters. I just end up raving about her brilliance. I have the same problem with A. S. Byatt.
I loved it! I probably should go back and review it, but it's one of those books where I honestly am not sure what to say. I thought it was brilliantly conceived, the premise was fantastic, and there was definite character payoff. Also, I'm a big fan of symmetry. Luckily for me, so is Sarah Waters. And dear god, her language choice is just pretty.
See? I can't review Waters. I just end up raving about her brilliance. I have the same problem with A. S. Byatt.
13eldashwood
I may have to head over there, tjblue. I've been meaning to read Midnight's Children, and I've no aversion to reading some more Murakami. Thanks for the heads up!
14Feefy
I must check out A.S. Byatt - am hearing so many good things! is there any one in particular you'd recommend?
Re Sarah Waters - I also have The Night Watch on my shelf but haven't got around to reading it yet. If you have read it is it as good as Fingersmith?
Re Sarah Waters - I also have The Night Watch on my shelf but haven't got around to reading it yet. If you have read it is it as good as Fingersmith?
15eldashwood
Bookbugg, definitely check out Possession: A Romance. It's utterly gorgeous. She describes some of her characters by explaining their interactions with the people around them rather than their physical appearance or mannerisms. The first time I saw anyone do such a thing was in Possession, and it really stuck with me. Also, I was a literature major in college, and I'm very much attracted to the idea of scholars uncovering a previously undocumented literary romance.
Byatt also wrote a four-book sequence (The Virgin in the Garden, Still Life, Babel Tower, and A Whistling Woman) that I thoroughly enjoyed. I had a hard time getting into the first, but the second was better, the third was so engrossing that I missed my stop on the train, and the fourth I couldn't set down. It was worth reading the first book to get a feel for the characters.
I have read The Night Watch, and it was lovely as well. It isn't as linear as Fingersmith, which is more or less told in sequence with a few flashbacks. The Night Watch is told backwards. The most recent events start off the novel, but the next segment occurs several years before. It's elegantly written and interesting. I may have to reread it, actually, because I think I missed things the first time through. Is it as good as Fingersmith? Yes, but it is different in tone, format, and period. Which is probably part of what makes it interesting, actually.
Byatt also wrote a four-book sequence (The Virgin in the Garden, Still Life, Babel Tower, and A Whistling Woman) that I thoroughly enjoyed. I had a hard time getting into the first, but the second was better, the third was so engrossing that I missed my stop on the train, and the fourth I couldn't set down. It was worth reading the first book to get a feel for the characters.
I have read The Night Watch, and it was lovely as well. It isn't as linear as Fingersmith, which is more or less told in sequence with a few flashbacks. The Night Watch is told backwards. The most recent events start off the novel, but the next segment occurs several years before. It's elegantly written and interesting. I may have to reread it, actually, because I think I missed things the first time through. Is it as good as Fingersmith? Yes, but it is different in tone, format, and period. Which is probably part of what makes it interesting, actually.
16eldashwood
I'm addicted to stories. Not just books specifically, but the narratives within. So, it's probably unsurprising that when I read a nonfiction book, it's usually a biography. Which brings me to:
11. Remembering Elizabeth Bishop: An Oral Biography by Gary Fountain
This biography was a collection of stories and interviews from people who had known Elizabeth Bishop throughout various stages of her life. I thought it was going to be irritating at first, but instead, I felt like I got a real peek into what the woman was actually like.
It's saddening how many people don't know about Elizabeth Bishop anymore. She attended college in Depression-era New England, traveled around the world, and wrote meticulous, careful poetry which attempted to capture the beauty and people around her. Her work is never fluffy or sing-song, but the rhyme and meter work together to produce an image as close to concrete as possible.
Bishop was, from all accounts, a fun, entertaining woman who loved pretty things. She was as likely to fall in love with a set of leather bound volumes as a painted oar from a Brazilian rowboat, then display both proudly on her shelves. She never liked to discuss the nature of her relationships with the women she loved, fearing a lashback or just her own feelings of overexposure, but she also joked about her affinity for closet space when decorating.
In essence, this biography attempts to capture the essence of Elizabeth Bishop in the same way that she labored to convey the imporance of a fish, illustrate insomnia, and detail visits to a lunatic. Through snapshots and interviews, often from different people on the same event, multiple perspectives unfold and offer the image of a quiet, literary, often irreverant poet who simply wanted to live, write, and travel.
Come to think of it, that may be exactly how she'd like to be remembered.
11. Remembering Elizabeth Bishop: An Oral Biography by Gary Fountain
This biography was a collection of stories and interviews from people who had known Elizabeth Bishop throughout various stages of her life. I thought it was going to be irritating at first, but instead, I felt like I got a real peek into what the woman was actually like.
It's saddening how many people don't know about Elizabeth Bishop anymore. She attended college in Depression-era New England, traveled around the world, and wrote meticulous, careful poetry which attempted to capture the beauty and people around her. Her work is never fluffy or sing-song, but the rhyme and meter work together to produce an image as close to concrete as possible.
Bishop was, from all accounts, a fun, entertaining woman who loved pretty things. She was as likely to fall in love with a set of leather bound volumes as a painted oar from a Brazilian rowboat, then display both proudly on her shelves. She never liked to discuss the nature of her relationships with the women she loved, fearing a lashback or just her own feelings of overexposure, but she also joked about her affinity for closet space when decorating.
In essence, this biography attempts to capture the essence of Elizabeth Bishop in the same way that she labored to convey the imporance of a fish, illustrate insomnia, and detail visits to a lunatic. Through snapshots and interviews, often from different people on the same event, multiple perspectives unfold and offer the image of a quiet, literary, often irreverant poet who simply wanted to live, write, and travel.
Come to think of it, that may be exactly how she'd like to be remembered.
17eldashwood
I took Porua's advice and looked into Agatha Christie. Again, based primarily upon what books we had at the library upstairs, I've discovered yet another charming Englishwoman.
So, without further ado:
12. The Mystery of the Blue Train - Agatha Christie
Basic premise: rich chick killed by unknown on moving train between Paris and Lyon, no witnesses, save a few peripheral ones. Shenanigans ensue.
This was my first Christie as well as my first Poirot. I can see why he got a little irritating to her toward the middle/end of her career: he's amusing and effusive, but if you've written nothing but Hercule Poirot for ten books or so, he probably begins to seem more know-it-all than knowledgeable.
As it is, though, I was taken enough with the other characters in the plot that the charming Belgian remained charming, and I was pleasantly surprised: although I guessed whodunnit, I didn't guess who helped the heavy to commit the dastardly deed. One Poirot down, time to move on to Miss Marple!
Which I did, in 13. 4.50 from Paddington, also by Agatha Christie.
Basic premise: old lady on one train witnesses a murder on a different train while waiting for signal clearance, no one believes her, no body is found. Miss Marple's to-do list includes: a) find a body, b) find a murderer, c) stop said murderer, and d) crochet a doily for the salon table.
Miss Marple cracks me up. I can just see her sitting there, knitting by the fire and pretending to be a dotty old woman while she plays matchmaker and solves murders in her spare time. I am a big fan of the clever old lady trope, and she has a great sense of humor.
Also: I am noticing a cheering trend toward plucky young women who play by the rules, use their brains, and are rewarded in the end. Miss Grey in The Mystery of the Blue Train and Lucy in this one. You go, Agatha! Reward your reader proxies for just being so darn nice and efficient.
And wouldn't you know, the only other Christie novel we have lying around is another Poirot (or The Mousetrap and other plays. This is an academic library. We have a weird assortment). So, Poirot it is, in:
14. Death in the Air by Agatha Christie
Basic premise: a woman dies mid-flight by means of snake poison from an aboriginal blow dart. Poirot complains about his indigestion a lot. No one sees anything, naturally, so Hercule Poirot must avenge his honor by solving the case and dropping a lot of French into his conversations.
Way to slack, Poirot, sleeping through a murder because of son estomach. This is no time for indigestion, man!
Clever use of red herrings. Interesting setup. Again, we have a plucky young gal who may well have a happy ending. Her name is also Miss Grey.
I loved that Miss Grey, a hairdresser, profited from having been on a plane at the time of a murder. Apparently, gossipy housewives want to have their curls set by a real live murder witness who was Minutes Away From Death. Actually, I can see that.
Did not see this ending coming. With the previous two, I had sort of suspected the perpetrators, mainly due to my suspicious nature. A mystery with a twist that caught me unawares! Brilliant! I must read more Christie, though I think I'll take a break to clear my palate.
So, without further ado:
12. The Mystery of the Blue Train - Agatha Christie
Basic premise: rich chick killed by unknown on moving train between Paris and Lyon, no witnesses, save a few peripheral ones. Shenanigans ensue.
This was my first Christie as well as my first Poirot. I can see why he got a little irritating to her toward the middle/end of her career: he's amusing and effusive, but if you've written nothing but Hercule Poirot for ten books or so, he probably begins to seem more know-it-all than knowledgeable.
As it is, though, I was taken enough with the other characters in the plot that the charming Belgian remained charming, and I was pleasantly surprised: although I guessed whodunnit, I didn't guess who helped the heavy to commit the dastardly deed. One Poirot down, time to move on to Miss Marple!
Which I did, in 13. 4.50 from Paddington, also by Agatha Christie.
Basic premise: old lady on one train witnesses a murder on a different train while waiting for signal clearance, no one believes her, no body is found. Miss Marple's to-do list includes: a) find a body, b) find a murderer, c) stop said murderer, and d) crochet a doily for the salon table.
Miss Marple cracks me up. I can just see her sitting there, knitting by the fire and pretending to be a dotty old woman while she plays matchmaker and solves murders in her spare time. I am a big fan of the clever old lady trope, and she has a great sense of humor.
Also: I am noticing a cheering trend toward plucky young women who play by the rules, use their brains, and are rewarded in the end. Miss Grey in The Mystery of the Blue Train and Lucy in this one. You go, Agatha! Reward your reader proxies for just being so darn nice and efficient.
And wouldn't you know, the only other Christie novel we have lying around is another Poirot (or The Mousetrap and other plays. This is an academic library. We have a weird assortment). So, Poirot it is, in:
14. Death in the Air by Agatha Christie
Basic premise: a woman dies mid-flight by means of snake poison from an aboriginal blow dart. Poirot complains about his indigestion a lot. No one sees anything, naturally, so Hercule Poirot must avenge his honor by solving the case and dropping a lot of French into his conversations.
Way to slack, Poirot, sleeping through a murder because of son estomach. This is no time for indigestion, man!
Clever use of red herrings. Interesting setup. Again, we have a plucky young gal who may well have a happy ending. Her name is also Miss Grey.
I loved that Miss Grey, a hairdresser, profited from having been on a plane at the time of a murder. Apparently, gossipy housewives want to have their curls set by a real live murder witness who was Minutes Away From Death. Actually, I can see that.
Did not see this ending coming. With the previous two, I had sort of suspected the perpetrators, mainly due to my suspicious nature. A mystery with a twist that caught me unawares! Brilliant! I must read more Christie, though I think I'll take a break to clear my palate.
18eldashwood
I finished 15., Excellent Women by Barbara Pym, during my lunch hour (okay, at my desk when no one else was in the office, but I had five pages left and was not about to leave it).
I expected to be mildly annoyed at the narrator at first. The style was nice and all, but I just knew that she was going to be a fussy spinster who is whisked away by Mr. Darcy or equivalent. I was pleasantly surprised: this book is a few weeks in the life of a 1950's "excellent woman," or a thirtysomething spinster.
Our intrepid heroine, Mildred, is Fanny Price. Or, she's the kind of woman Fanny could have been, given a small income, a means of earning, and a Cranford-like support base of other excellent women. Mildred was raised a clergyman's daughter and spends her life attempting to be a virtuous woman, occasionally scolding herself for having uncharitable thoughts about other people.
The book is filled with ordinary trials and tribulations (the men aren't helping set up the church bazaar! The neighbor fights with her husband! She wore what to church?) as the town Excellent Women operate within their own social hierarchy. Our narrator could come off as neurotic or smug within the boundaries of her virtue, but she doesn't. She occasionally and offhandedly worries that others think her above herself or nosy.
Quite frankly, I want Mildred Lathbury to be my friend. She's the single nicest heroine I've encountered in a book without being snobbish, indecisive, or wimpy in any way. She comes across as a realistic, intelligent, and dependable woman who just wants to help everyone around her and occasionally gets burnt out by the effort. Also, she doesn't think that getting married would magically solve all of her problems. Instead, she likes living alone and cherishes her space.
In short: this book is delightful. The style is charming, the characters are genuine, and the storyline is natural. It's like spending a week with the churchgoers of rural 50s England, flowers, casseroles, and tea included. It's cozy and interesting while subtly subverting reader expectations where romantic cliches tend to flourish.
I'm taking this book home to my mom to read, then pouring a cup of tea. I have a sudden, strange craving for tea.
*edited to fix a comma splice.
I expected to be mildly annoyed at the narrator at first. The style was nice and all, but I just knew that she was going to be a fussy spinster who is whisked away by Mr. Darcy or equivalent. I was pleasantly surprised: this book is a few weeks in the life of a 1950's "excellent woman," or a thirtysomething spinster.
Our intrepid heroine, Mildred, is Fanny Price. Or, she's the kind of woman Fanny could have been, given a small income, a means of earning, and a Cranford-like support base of other excellent women. Mildred was raised a clergyman's daughter and spends her life attempting to be a virtuous woman, occasionally scolding herself for having uncharitable thoughts about other people.
The book is filled with ordinary trials and tribulations (the men aren't helping set up the church bazaar! The neighbor fights with her husband! She wore what to church?) as the town Excellent Women operate within their own social hierarchy. Our narrator could come off as neurotic or smug within the boundaries of her virtue, but she doesn't. She occasionally and offhandedly worries that others think her above herself or nosy.
Quite frankly, I want Mildred Lathbury to be my friend. She's the single nicest heroine I've encountered in a book without being snobbish, indecisive, or wimpy in any way. She comes across as a realistic, intelligent, and dependable woman who just wants to help everyone around her and occasionally gets burnt out by the effort. Also, she doesn't think that getting married would magically solve all of her problems. Instead, she likes living alone and cherishes her space.
In short: this book is delightful. The style is charming, the characters are genuine, and the storyline is natural. It's like spending a week with the churchgoers of rural 50s England, flowers, casseroles, and tea included. It's cozy and interesting while subtly subverting reader expectations where romantic cliches tend to flourish.
I'm taking this book home to my mom to read, then pouring a cup of tea. I have a sudden, strange craving for tea.
*edited to fix a comma splice.
19eldashwood
16. A Far Cry from Kensington - Muriel Spark
Spark is one of those authors I'd heard of (from somewhere, source unknown and repeated) but never actually read. I appear to be on a genre kick featuring women in WW2-era England.
A Far Cry from Kensington takes place mainly in 1950s London. The narrator, Mrs Agnes (Nancy) Hawkins, is a highly competent editor who begins the novel on the front lines of a failing publishing company. She's sort of an all-purpose secretary/editor who listens to the complaints and schemes of the executives and does her very best with the manuscripts provided.
Given the choice of promoting drek and offering an honest assessment, Mrs Hawkins always selects the latter. Then, she chooses literary integrity over politics when she decides against a horrid manuscript penned by a friend of a Name author. Between the subsequent fallout, her Polish housemate's blackmail problem, the violent and interchangeable married couples next door, weird religious pseudo-science, and Mrs Hawkins's image as a sturdy woman older than her age, the reader has plenty to keep him or her occupied.
Spark is one of those authors I'd heard of (from somewhere, source unknown and repeated) but never actually read. I appear to be on a genre kick featuring women in WW2-era England.
A Far Cry from Kensington takes place mainly in 1950s London. The narrator, Mrs Agnes (Nancy) Hawkins, is a highly competent editor who begins the novel on the front lines of a failing publishing company. She's sort of an all-purpose secretary/editor who listens to the complaints and schemes of the executives and does her very best with the manuscripts provided.
Given the choice of promoting drek and offering an honest assessment, Mrs Hawkins always selects the latter. Then, she chooses literary integrity over politics when she decides against a horrid manuscript penned by a friend of a Name author. Between the subsequent fallout, her Polish housemate's blackmail problem, the violent and interchangeable married couples next door, weird religious pseudo-science, and Mrs Hawkins's image as a sturdy woman older than her age, the reader has plenty to keep him or her occupied.
20dartmoor
Am so excited to read your posts re AS Byatt- I have been having a love affair with Possession for quite some time now, and The Virgin in the Garden quartet- what can I say? Beautiful, amazing, demanding but almost effortless too?! WE seem to have quite a few novels in common, and I'm new to this site so haven't woked out how to find people- so have you read Jonathon Strange and Mr Norrell? It isn't as literary as Byatt, but if you like magic realism you will love it. Maybe :)
21eldashwood
Ye gods, I've been MIA. It's been a crazy few weeks, and I've a backlog to post. This one's going to unnecessarily long, so I'm splitting it into two.
17. Something Fresh - P.G. Wodehouse
My aunt turned me onto Wodehouse at Christmas by handing me a copy of Blandings Castle. That was when I fell in love with Clarence, the Earl of Emsworth, for having absolutely no idea what's going on. He just wants to walk in his gardens, feed his pig, the Empress of Blandings, and win another medal at the county fair for his prized pumpkins. Unfortunately, life seems bent on thwarting him.
Something Fresh is about two writers who live in the same building. They end up purely by coincidence at Blandings Castle to try to steal a scarab accidentally lifted by the dotty old Clarence. Shenanigans ensue, and it is quite hysterical. You have the idle rich being idle and rich, the hierarchy of servants, a butler with Many Aches And Pains, self-created intrigue, multiple cases of false identity, and one neurotic secretary trying to make the place function.
I laughed throughout: the Blandings books are witty, fun, and subtly subversive in nature. Recommended if you'd like a laugh.
18. Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day - Winifred Watson
I loved this book! I loved it like candy and brightly-colored nail polish and kittens. I saw the movie with a friend when it came out in 2008, and it was fairly delightful. When I found out there was a book, and that it had been published in 1938 (continuing my streak of women writers from the era), I had to have it.
Miss Pettigrew made me laugh! She wants to do what was proper, but she's thrown into this whirlwind of circumstance by Delysia LaFosse, who has three boyfriends (and possibly a handful of illegitimate children) and a nose for trouble. Miss Pettigrew learns over the course of a spectacular day that she can think on her feet, act, mimic, and solve problems for others in the blink of an eye. I love it when women turn out to exceed their own expectations in practical matters (resourcefulness, intelligence, wittiness) rather than simply being handed a pot of gold at the end.
It's a Cinderella story, and it's so utterly delightful that I just want to give the heroine a hug. It's also not a whole lot like the movie, which was fun but somehow pales in comparison (and plot definition) to this excellent pick-me-up. Read this if you're having a gloomy day. No, seriously. It's brilliant.
19. Summer Lightning - P.G. Wodehouse
Another Blandings book. It takes place after Something Fresh and the short stories. The castle is in an uproar because Clarence, Seventh Earl of Emsworth, has not only misplaced the Empress of Blandings, but his brother is up to something again. The Hon. Galahad Threepwood, who was a bit of a bounder in his youth, has a very good memory of all of his escapades. He subsequently decides to pen his memoirs, which threaten to alienate all of his family's acquaintances (to be skewered on the society pages by inconvenient anecdotes about prawns! one's social standing could never recover). Add in a few more cases of mistaken identity, a hysterical Earl, a manipulative sister, and a few poor gals just trying to do what's right for love, and you have classic Wodehouse. Another to read if you're up for shenanigans, but not if you're fed up with people for being daft.
17. Something Fresh - P.G. Wodehouse
My aunt turned me onto Wodehouse at Christmas by handing me a copy of Blandings Castle. That was when I fell in love with Clarence, the Earl of Emsworth, for having absolutely no idea what's going on. He just wants to walk in his gardens, feed his pig, the Empress of Blandings, and win another medal at the county fair for his prized pumpkins. Unfortunately, life seems bent on thwarting him.
Something Fresh is about two writers who live in the same building. They end up purely by coincidence at Blandings Castle to try to steal a scarab accidentally lifted by the dotty old Clarence. Shenanigans ensue, and it is quite hysterical. You have the idle rich being idle and rich, the hierarchy of servants, a butler with Many Aches And Pains, self-created intrigue, multiple cases of false identity, and one neurotic secretary trying to make the place function.
I laughed throughout: the Blandings books are witty, fun, and subtly subversive in nature. Recommended if you'd like a laugh.
18. Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day - Winifred Watson
I loved this book! I loved it like candy and brightly-colored nail polish and kittens. I saw the movie with a friend when it came out in 2008, and it was fairly delightful. When I found out there was a book, and that it had been published in 1938 (continuing my streak of women writers from the era), I had to have it.
Miss Pettigrew made me laugh! She wants to do what was proper, but she's thrown into this whirlwind of circumstance by Delysia LaFosse, who has three boyfriends (and possibly a handful of illegitimate children) and a nose for trouble. Miss Pettigrew learns over the course of a spectacular day that she can think on her feet, act, mimic, and solve problems for others in the blink of an eye. I love it when women turn out to exceed their own expectations in practical matters (resourcefulness, intelligence, wittiness) rather than simply being handed a pot of gold at the end.
It's a Cinderella story, and it's so utterly delightful that I just want to give the heroine a hug. It's also not a whole lot like the movie, which was fun but somehow pales in comparison (and plot definition) to this excellent pick-me-up. Read this if you're having a gloomy day. No, seriously. It's brilliant.
19. Summer Lightning - P.G. Wodehouse
Another Blandings book. It takes place after Something Fresh and the short stories. The castle is in an uproar because Clarence, Seventh Earl of Emsworth, has not only misplaced the Empress of Blandings, but his brother is up to something again. The Hon. Galahad Threepwood, who was a bit of a bounder in his youth, has a very good memory of all of his escapades. He subsequently decides to pen his memoirs, which threaten to alienate all of his family's acquaintances (to be skewered on the society pages by inconvenient anecdotes about prawns! one's social standing could never recover). Add in a few more cases of mistaken identity, a hysterical Earl, a manipulative sister, and a few poor gals just trying to do what's right for love, and you have classic Wodehouse. Another to read if you're up for shenanigans, but not if you're fed up with people for being daft.
22eldashwood
Part Two of what would have otherwise been an unforgivably long post.
20. The Making of a Marchioness - Frances Hodgson Burnett
I loved A Little Princess when I was young. I reread my mother's old paperback copy so many times that the pages fell out and she had to buy me a new one with a secured binding (I didn't read it more than once... I just taped the pages back in the old copy). I didn't know the author had published books for adults as well.
Our heroine, Emily Fox-Seton, caught me unaware. I expected a protagonist more like Sara Crewe, or Mary from The Secret Garden. I expected her to be clever, well-read, maybe even pretty. What I liked about Emily is that she was none of the above.
Our intrepid heroine is a sensible, humble, self-effacing spinster (I think she was about thirty-six, thirty-seven) who has no expectations of life. She's a lady, but born into a family without money who died while she was young. Instead of acting like a "normal" lady of her class (spending beyond her means, actively seeking out men to marry, doing only "ladylike" work), Emily acts as sort of a Victorian personal assistant. She runs errands, acts as a companion, tracks down sale merchandise for her clients, and makes sure to pay her rent on time so as not to inconvenience her landlady. She's very good, very earnest, and very willing to go the extra mile solely because she can, and she's delighted when the ladies she assists (planning their parties and generally making their lives easier) give her gifts like theater tickets or a decent swath of velvet.
Emily ends up planning parties one summer for Lady Maria, whose cousin, a marquis, is searching for a wife. She never considers herself a candidate, picking instead a favorite of the suitors to attempt to promote to the Marquis should she speak with him. Of course he chooses her, though not for predictable reasons. The Marquis admires Emily's pragmatism and thinks that she would make his household run smoothly and his life easier, and as a man in his fifties, he doesn't see the point in chasing after a teenager, spending far too much effort trying to keep her happy and under control. He must marry if he wants a chance at an heir he doesn't loathe, so he might as well marry her.
I thought the story would end with the wedding, but the two were married less than halfway in. That's when the real story begins, as the Marchionesse moves in with her husband, charms his household, and adopts under her wing the Indian wife of her husband's loathed heir. I was startled to see a mildly insightful depiction of anyone of a different race from a Victorian white woman. However, her upper class protagonists are excessively (vocally) delicate about race, not wanting to come across as offensive or suspicious, while the Indian natives regard them with disdain, wondering what makes rich white ladies so entitled and irritating. There's still a certain degree of stereotyping, but for a novel written at the height of Orientalism, Burnett played it fairly well.
All in all, much more substance than anticipated, and I love a Cinderella being selected not for her pretty face or wit, but for her practicality and kindness.
21. Tam Lin - Pamela Dean
It took me a while to get into this one. Once I did, I was in, but not for the reasons I'd expected.
I love modern adaptations or rewrites of fairy tales. Love. I saw the title of this book and recognized it from the depths of my brain as a Scottish faerie myth. As a natural progression, I was kind of expecting faeries (or fairies, I'm not picky). When I got to page 300 and still, no fairies, I began to get concerned. Surely there would be fairies. The sci-fi/fantasy shelf of my local library (not to mention the inside flap of the book) wouldn't lie to me! Clearly, there were going to be fairies.
At page 400, I was frantically searching between the lines for any sci-fi/fantasy elements. Fairies? Ghosts? There might be a ghost? No? How about the reincarnated spirit of William Shakespeare? ... very literary vampires? Maybe?
I really liked the book, but I probably would have loved it if I'd gone in with different expectations. Since I know the bare bones of the tale of Tam Lin and the Faerie Queen, I saw the ending coming. What I did not expect was for it to happen so abruptly (by 420, we had fairies, but they weren't particularly satisfactory). Dean didn't do a great job integrating the myth into her story, and as a result, I was far more taken with the literary nature of the book than the fable. Her characters took on a life of their own, and they would have been far more interesting if she'd simply abandoned the supernatural ending, instead focusing on a bunch of emotionally-distant theater and Classics majors obsessed with their own world.
Worth a read if you like books about books, but it's not a great fairy tale.
20. The Making of a Marchioness - Frances Hodgson Burnett
I loved A Little Princess when I was young. I reread my mother's old paperback copy so many times that the pages fell out and she had to buy me a new one with a secured binding (I didn't read it more than once... I just taped the pages back in the old copy). I didn't know the author had published books for adults as well.
Our heroine, Emily Fox-Seton, caught me unaware. I expected a protagonist more like Sara Crewe, or Mary from The Secret Garden. I expected her to be clever, well-read, maybe even pretty. What I liked about Emily is that she was none of the above.
Our intrepid heroine is a sensible, humble, self-effacing spinster (I think she was about thirty-six, thirty-seven) who has no expectations of life. She's a lady, but born into a family without money who died while she was young. Instead of acting like a "normal" lady of her class (spending beyond her means, actively seeking out men to marry, doing only "ladylike" work), Emily acts as sort of a Victorian personal assistant. She runs errands, acts as a companion, tracks down sale merchandise for her clients, and makes sure to pay her rent on time so as not to inconvenience her landlady. She's very good, very earnest, and very willing to go the extra mile solely because she can, and she's delighted when the ladies she assists (planning their parties and generally making their lives easier) give her gifts like theater tickets or a decent swath of velvet.
Emily ends up planning parties one summer for Lady Maria, whose cousin, a marquis, is searching for a wife. She never considers herself a candidate, picking instead a favorite of the suitors to attempt to promote to the Marquis should she speak with him. Of course he chooses her, though not for predictable reasons. The Marquis admires Emily's pragmatism and thinks that she would make his household run smoothly and his life easier, and as a man in his fifties, he doesn't see the point in chasing after a teenager, spending far too much effort trying to keep her happy and under control. He must marry if he wants a chance at an heir he doesn't loathe, so he might as well marry her.
I thought the story would end with the wedding, but the two were married less than halfway in. That's when the real story begins, as the Marchionesse moves in with her husband, charms his household, and adopts under her wing the Indian wife of her husband's loathed heir. I was startled to see a mildly insightful depiction of anyone of a different race from a Victorian white woman. However, her upper class protagonists are excessively (vocally) delicate about race, not wanting to come across as offensive or suspicious, while the Indian natives regard them with disdain, wondering what makes rich white ladies so entitled and irritating. There's still a certain degree of stereotyping, but for a novel written at the height of Orientalism, Burnett played it fairly well.
All in all, much more substance than anticipated, and I love a Cinderella being selected not for her pretty face or wit, but for her practicality and kindness.
21. Tam Lin - Pamela Dean
It took me a while to get into this one. Once I did, I was in, but not for the reasons I'd expected.
I love modern adaptations or rewrites of fairy tales. Love. I saw the title of this book and recognized it from the depths of my brain as a Scottish faerie myth. As a natural progression, I was kind of expecting faeries (or fairies, I'm not picky). When I got to page 300 and still, no fairies, I began to get concerned. Surely there would be fairies. The sci-fi/fantasy shelf of my local library (not to mention the inside flap of the book) wouldn't lie to me! Clearly, there were going to be fairies.
At page 400, I was frantically searching between the lines for any sci-fi/fantasy elements. Fairies? Ghosts? There might be a ghost? No? How about the reincarnated spirit of William Shakespeare? ... very literary vampires? Maybe?
I really liked the book, but I probably would have loved it if I'd gone in with different expectations. Since I know the bare bones of the tale of Tam Lin and the Faerie Queen, I saw the ending coming. What I did not expect was for it to happen so abruptly (by 420, we had fairies, but they weren't particularly satisfactory). Dean didn't do a great job integrating the myth into her story, and as a result, I was far more taken with the literary nature of the book than the fable. Her characters took on a life of their own, and they would have been far more interesting if she'd simply abandoned the supernatural ending, instead focusing on a bunch of emotionally-distant theater and Classics majors obsessed with their own world.
Worth a read if you like books about books, but it's not a great fairy tale.
23eldashwood
Dartmoor, I haven't read Jonathon Strange yet, though it's on the (constantly expanding) list. And I have to say, I think you pretty much explained Byatt right there. It's quite unfair of her to make it sound so easy to write well!
24Feefy
Hi Eldashwood, just wanted to pop in to say i've been really enjoying your reviews! A few more books added to my 'to be read' list!
25eldashwood
Thanks, Bookbugg! I hope to be able to sell you on a few more.
I spent a week completely out of commission due to illness, so I read and did very little else. So, I am once again severely backlogged on my book reviews! I actually have eight to write out, but you're getting them a few at a time because I'm still catching up at work as well. And because I'm finishing another on my break and cannot be persuaded otherwise. So, here are the first two, six to come, but it's cool because both of these were lovely. Without further ado, I give you:
22. The Uncommon Reader – Alan Bennett
This novella was surprisingly deep. The setup was promising; the execution phenomenal. One day on a walk with her hyperactive corgis – loved by few, loathed by legions – the Queen of England stumbles across a mobile library she has never noticed before. Curious, she peeks inside and checks out a book for politeness’s sake. Her torrid affair with reading alters her perspective, routine, and relationships with her loved ones. Armed with Keats, Proust, and Nancy Mitford (and aided and abetted by Norman, the gay kitchen boy), the Queen begins to integrate her new-found passion into politics and state affairs, quoting Dickens over Christmas broadcasts and asking everyone she meets what they’re reading.
Reading doesn’t just cause her to know more or enjoy a little pastime: the Queen begins quests for literacy, cross-examines the French President about Jean Genet, and alters the way she views reality. Refusing to set down a book once she’s begun to read it, the Queen causes headaches to her courtiers, puts her Prime Minister’s position in peril, and challenges the royal court to take her seriously instead of patting her on the head and talking over her. She opens the cabinets in the Royal Library, which have not been used for reading since the 15th century, and forces the hand of the politicians who expect her to behave. The Queen proves herself a stubborn, intelligent, highly regal woman who, at age eighty-two, finally discovers her voice and her place in the universe, not realizing until she opens a slightly dusty tome that she had ever been forced into silence.
Instead of functioning as a cute little novella, Alan Bennett created a Queen I’d love to meet. Judi Dench should play her in a movie. I’ve recommended this book to about six people. If you like books about books and uppity women, pick this one up!
23. 84, Charing Cross Road – Helene Hanff
I thought that this was an epistolary novel before I looked it up in the card catalog at my local library. When I saw that it was classed with essays in the 814s, I realized that it was nonfiction. It’s a correspondence between writer Helene Hanff and the staff of the British bookstore located on 84, Charing Cross Road. Hanff learned of the bookstore by reputation and, loathing expensive and shoddy copies at Barnes and Noble, determined that it would be cheaper to buy good quality second-hand books from across the Atlantic than to purchase the same books in new print four blocks from her house. Thus began a twenty-year correspondence with the staff at the bookshop.
The book was fun. Hanff chews out the staff at the bookshop if they send her something she loathes, but will always end the letter on a piece of witticism or a kind inquiry after their coworkers and families. It’s a bit of a peek into postwar Britain, where wives swapped rationed tinned powdered eggs with their neighbors for nylons and meat. And, of course, the entire thing is tied up with the books recommended, searched for, and purchased with the enclosed dollars (as Hanff never did understand the exchange rate). I read this book on the train and finished it during my lunch hour, saddened as I got to the end of the book because I knew that the correspondence had to end.
The book was made into a movie, and I’ve heard that it’s a love story. However, the book is not. I like the people involved all the better for being the best of friends and never seeming to consider otherwise.
I spent a week completely out of commission due to illness, so I read and did very little else. So, I am once again severely backlogged on my book reviews! I actually have eight to write out, but you're getting them a few at a time because I'm still catching up at work as well. And because I'm finishing another on my break and cannot be persuaded otherwise. So, here are the first two, six to come, but it's cool because both of these were lovely. Without further ado, I give you:
22. The Uncommon Reader – Alan Bennett
This novella was surprisingly deep. The setup was promising; the execution phenomenal. One day on a walk with her hyperactive corgis – loved by few, loathed by legions – the Queen of England stumbles across a mobile library she has never noticed before. Curious, she peeks inside and checks out a book for politeness’s sake. Her torrid affair with reading alters her perspective, routine, and relationships with her loved ones. Armed with Keats, Proust, and Nancy Mitford (and aided and abetted by Norman, the gay kitchen boy), the Queen begins to integrate her new-found passion into politics and state affairs, quoting Dickens over Christmas broadcasts and asking everyone she meets what they’re reading.
Reading doesn’t just cause her to know more or enjoy a little pastime: the Queen begins quests for literacy, cross-examines the French President about Jean Genet, and alters the way she views reality. Refusing to set down a book once she’s begun to read it, the Queen causes headaches to her courtiers, puts her Prime Minister’s position in peril, and challenges the royal court to take her seriously instead of patting her on the head and talking over her. She opens the cabinets in the Royal Library, which have not been used for reading since the 15th century, and forces the hand of the politicians who expect her to behave. The Queen proves herself a stubborn, intelligent, highly regal woman who, at age eighty-two, finally discovers her voice and her place in the universe, not realizing until she opens a slightly dusty tome that she had ever been forced into silence.
Instead of functioning as a cute little novella, Alan Bennett created a Queen I’d love to meet. Judi Dench should play her in a movie. I’ve recommended this book to about six people. If you like books about books and uppity women, pick this one up!
23. 84, Charing Cross Road – Helene Hanff
I thought that this was an epistolary novel before I looked it up in the card catalog at my local library. When I saw that it was classed with essays in the 814s, I realized that it was nonfiction. It’s a correspondence between writer Helene Hanff and the staff of the British bookstore located on 84, Charing Cross Road. Hanff learned of the bookstore by reputation and, loathing expensive and shoddy copies at Barnes and Noble, determined that it would be cheaper to buy good quality second-hand books from across the Atlantic than to purchase the same books in new print four blocks from her house. Thus began a twenty-year correspondence with the staff at the bookshop.
The book was fun. Hanff chews out the staff at the bookshop if they send her something she loathes, but will always end the letter on a piece of witticism or a kind inquiry after their coworkers and families. It’s a bit of a peek into postwar Britain, where wives swapped rationed tinned powdered eggs with their neighbors for nylons and meat. And, of course, the entire thing is tied up with the books recommended, searched for, and purchased with the enclosed dollars (as Hanff never did understand the exchange rate). I read this book on the train and finished it during my lunch hour, saddened as I got to the end of the book because I knew that the correspondence had to end.
The book was made into a movie, and I’ve heard that it’s a love story. However, the book is not. I like the people involved all the better for being the best of friends and never seeming to consider otherwise.
26tjblue
I recently read 84, Charing Cross Road and liked it well enough. I'm going to watch the movie just to see what it's like.
27eldashwood
Let me know if it's any good, please! The premise is such that it could be really excellent.
28eldashwood
Hello, fellow readers. They’ve painted my office, so you get paint fume-enhanced reviews today!
(They’ve been painting all week. There’s nothing left to paint. If they try to varnish my desk tomorrow, I’m coming after them)
24. Beauty: A Retelling of the Story of Beauty and the Beast – Robin McKinley
I love Robin McKinley. I never read a word she’d written until this past fall, and I now suspect all booksellers and librarians I know of hiding her from me.
It’s probably the paint getting to me, but I’m not quite sure what to say about this one. It was great fun. I’m a sucker for a well-told fairy tale, which this is. It’s not drastically different from the original tale except that Beauty isn’t especially beautiful in the princess-like sense. She turns into a tomboy for a while, and she’s not a particularly social creature, more in love with her books and studies than she is interested in making small talk. The family’s ruin and transfer to the country is handled well, as is the mysticism inherent in the woods by their home. You feel sorry for the beast, who seems vaguely depressed and a bit shy for most of the book, and the majority of the characters are fairly likable. Beauty and The Beast’s relationship progresses fairly naturally, and though the ending is rushed a bit, you can see how she falls for him.
Recommended for anyone who loves a fairy tale.
25. Kissing the Witch: Old Tales in New Skins – Emma Donoghue
This book is a series of interconnected fairy tales from assorted female perspectives. Not everyone in the stories is nice, or useful, or good. However, all are interesting. Perspectives include (but are not limited to): the evil queen from Snow White, the witch in Hansel and Gretel, Cinderella, Cinderella’s fairy godmother, Rapunzel, and the witch who held Rapunzel captive. Most of the tales have a slightly eerie undertone as their heroines often do what they have to for survival’s sake or as a means to an end.
Good for: fans of fairy tale retellings, feminists, those who don’t mind the occasional bit of lesbian subtext.
26. Murder at the Vicarage – Agatha Christie
I continue my love affair with Miss Marple! Though, being a churchgoing spinster lady, she’d probably disapprove of the wording and blush a lot.
So, what does a dead body have to do with a little boy and his lost ice cream bar? The vicar of St. Mary Mead goes out on call for an allegedly dying patron, and, in his absence, one of the church elders is murdered. But by whom? Suddenly, there are multiple confessions, even more nosy old ladies, two detectives, and a town full of suspects minus only the vicar, Miss Marple, and the ever-abrasive Inspector Slack. Miss Marple, with her knowledge of what makes people tick, is on the case alongside a handful of amateur sleuths, any of whom may have actually offed the elder.
Recommended for mystery/Christie fans and anyone who thinks old ladies in the 1930s-40s are a hoot.
(They’ve been painting all week. There’s nothing left to paint. If they try to varnish my desk tomorrow, I’m coming after them)
24. Beauty: A Retelling of the Story of Beauty and the Beast – Robin McKinley
I love Robin McKinley. I never read a word she’d written until this past fall, and I now suspect all booksellers and librarians I know of hiding her from me.
It’s probably the paint getting to me, but I’m not quite sure what to say about this one. It was great fun. I’m a sucker for a well-told fairy tale, which this is. It’s not drastically different from the original tale except that Beauty isn’t especially beautiful in the princess-like sense. She turns into a tomboy for a while, and she’s not a particularly social creature, more in love with her books and studies than she is interested in making small talk. The family’s ruin and transfer to the country is handled well, as is the mysticism inherent in the woods by their home. You feel sorry for the beast, who seems vaguely depressed and a bit shy for most of the book, and the majority of the characters are fairly likable. Beauty and The Beast’s relationship progresses fairly naturally, and though the ending is rushed a bit, you can see how she falls for him.
Recommended for anyone who loves a fairy tale.
25. Kissing the Witch: Old Tales in New Skins – Emma Donoghue
This book is a series of interconnected fairy tales from assorted female perspectives. Not everyone in the stories is nice, or useful, or good. However, all are interesting. Perspectives include (but are not limited to): the evil queen from Snow White, the witch in Hansel and Gretel, Cinderella, Cinderella’s fairy godmother, Rapunzel, and the witch who held Rapunzel captive. Most of the tales have a slightly eerie undertone as their heroines often do what they have to for survival’s sake or as a means to an end.
Good for: fans of fairy tale retellings, feminists, those who don’t mind the occasional bit of lesbian subtext.
26. Murder at the Vicarage – Agatha Christie
I continue my love affair with Miss Marple! Though, being a churchgoing spinster lady, she’d probably disapprove of the wording and blush a lot.
So, what does a dead body have to do with a little boy and his lost ice cream bar? The vicar of St. Mary Mead goes out on call for an allegedly dying patron, and, in his absence, one of the church elders is murdered. But by whom? Suddenly, there are multiple confessions, even more nosy old ladies, two detectives, and a town full of suspects minus only the vicar, Miss Marple, and the ever-abrasive Inspector Slack. Miss Marple, with her knowledge of what makes people tick, is on the case alongside a handful of amateur sleuths, any of whom may have actually offed the elder.
Recommended for mystery/Christie fans and anyone who thinks old ladies in the 1930s-40s are a hoot.
29eldashwood
27. The Body in the Library - Agatha Christie
The setup: the lady of the manor, Mrs Bantry, is awakened one morning by her maid, who claims that there is (believe it or not) a body in the library. No one in the house knows who she is, how she died, or why she's wearing such a scandalous frock, but Mrs Bantry immediately puts a semi-hysterical call through to Miss Jane Marple, old friend and resident sleuth.
I didn't like this one as much as 4.50 from Paddington. My first guess about the whodunnit was right on the mark, and Christie dangled the red herrings from the ceiling instead of using the subtlety I've begun to expect from her. However, Miss Marple is clever, Inspector Slack again defies his name with thorough investigation, and there's a good deal of the British stiff upper lip alongside the taking of toast and tea. So, worth a read.
28. Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim - David Sedaris
This one was more serious and introspective than the other Sedaris collections I've read. I felt sorry for his family members throughout, even as the stories offered more perspective on why they do those crazy things they do. There were some wacky shenanigans, of course. However, my favorite story was The End of the Affair, about Sedaris's boyfriend, Hugh, watching the movie of the same name. I love the Hugh stories because they tend to be funny and are usually fairly touching. This one didn't disappoint, and the reader gets a sweet moment between the two of them.
The setup: the lady of the manor, Mrs Bantry, is awakened one morning by her maid, who claims that there is (believe it or not) a body in the library. No one in the house knows who she is, how she died, or why she's wearing such a scandalous frock, but Mrs Bantry immediately puts a semi-hysterical call through to Miss Jane Marple, old friend and resident sleuth.
I didn't like this one as much as 4.50 from Paddington. My first guess about the whodunnit was right on the mark, and Christie dangled the red herrings from the ceiling instead of using the subtlety I've begun to expect from her. However, Miss Marple is clever, Inspector Slack again defies his name with thorough investigation, and there's a good deal of the British stiff upper lip alongside the taking of toast and tea. So, worth a read.
28. Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim - David Sedaris
This one was more serious and introspective than the other Sedaris collections I've read. I felt sorry for his family members throughout, even as the stories offered more perspective on why they do those crazy things they do. There were some wacky shenanigans, of course. However, my favorite story was The End of the Affair, about Sedaris's boyfriend, Hugh, watching the movie of the same name. I love the Hugh stories because they tend to be funny and are usually fairly touching. This one didn't disappoint, and the reader gets a sweet moment between the two of them.
30tjblue
Just stopping by to say hi. I just finished watching the movie 84 Charing Cross Road. It was a nice movie, I enjoyed it. It was quite similar to the book. Coincidently, one of the trailers was for The Day That Remains. Porua recently posted a review for that book. I've put both the book and the movie on my list of things to pick up tomorrow.
31eldashwood
Back with (what appears to be) a bimonthly report. I had trouble explaining my feelings on Persuasion, so the reviewing halted for a bit.
Here's hoping that I can get back into the swing of reviewing now that I've worked this one out. Hope to have more to write in the next few days!
(mainly because I have several to catch up on at this point)
29. Persuasion - Jane Austen
I've been hard pressed the last few weeks to explain my undying love for this book. In all honesty, I don't know how well I can word it, because so much of the beauty of the story lies in what remains unsaid.
What caught my attention was Mary Musgrove, who is horrid. I know that woman, and she is vile. She makes me absolutely insane. She is every co-dependent, whiny woman who makes the rest of us look bad. Her suffering is greater than anyone else's suffering, and no one has ever been as ill as she becomes the second someone accuses her of hypochondria. Mary is funny because she is ridiculous; pitiable because she doesn't realize that her self-victimization is depressing. Austen nailed the characterization: by understanding Mary, I began to comprehend Anne.
Every family should be so lucky as to have an Anne. Especially a family with an attention-starved youngest sibling, a father unable to see past his own vanity, and an eldest daughter comfortable taking up her father's mantle as an attractive (and thereby superior) member of Society. Any family with an Elizabeth and a Mary must have an Anne or the entire house of cards goes caput, regardless of the caliber of advice offered by good friends. And any Anne -- who must make everyone else's lives function properly -- goes unnoticed as the cogs in a well-oiled machine. She is quiet, efficient, and practical, and she works with what resources are available.
This is a tale which encapsulates familial relations, constancy, and silence, bound together with duty, honor, and resilience. It contains one of the most obvious Austen discussions on bloom, and whether a woman can be expected to retrieve a bloom once lost. Persuasion ponders the boundaries of social class, dwelling upon the stratification between a wealthy naval officer and a broke baronet, urging the reader to choose the infinitely superior without setting aside the issue of bloodlines. For which is better: the company of clever, well-informed people with a good deal of conversation, or a blue-blooded court, fanning itself with peacock feathers and crocodile smiles?
Alongside all this is the titular issue of persuasion – not just the feebleness of character so despised by Frederick Wentworth, but the ability of language to impact its surroundings. A well-worded argument from a well-meaning friend causes Anne Elliot to end an engagement with a good, but poor, man with minimal prospects. Conversely, Mary's constant protestations of illness are counterproductive from the beginning, as no one ever believes that she is actually ill. Likewise, Louisa Musgrove's constant assertions of self-will and independence fall flat: they lack substance aside from youthful enthusiasm and flattery.
The double-sided nature of language reveals itself through simple, cheerful gossip. A handsome officer waltzes into town, and every man, woman, and child wonders aloud which of two women he will marry. An innocuous statement repeated only as a conversational standard, it still has the power to influence the behavior of the main characters. I loved the symmetry between Frederick and Louisa, Anne and Mr. Elliot. Anne is never fully convinced that her Captain intends to marry a pretty, flirtatious girl, but he hears a few reports of Anne’s presumed engagement and tears off in a huff. No communication occurs until both cease to listen to external voices, and, uncertain of how to properly converse, are rendered speechless. Every time I read the passage in which Captain Wentworth and Anne wait out the rain, I catch my breath because it is so natural, I can see it happening, both stumbling over their own tongues in an attempt to convey that which cannot easily be vocalized. I love the letters; I love the moments of stillness and silence.
I know it’s some sort of review convention to explain why this book isn’t Pride and Prejudice, but I’ve no wish to get into that line of reasoning. I love Lizzie Bennett, and I see a lot of myself in her. But Lizzie is loud, and Anne is soft. One is considered a local beauty; the other has lost her bloom. Lizzie gets her fairy tale redemption, and Anne, an adult, engages a grown man who knows her through and through, enough that they can be quiet and still understand one another perfectly.
Forget Mr. Darcy. I want an Anne in my life.
Here's hoping that I can get back into the swing of reviewing now that I've worked this one out. Hope to have more to write in the next few days!
(mainly because I have several to catch up on at this point)
29. Persuasion - Jane Austen
I've been hard pressed the last few weeks to explain my undying love for this book. In all honesty, I don't know how well I can word it, because so much of the beauty of the story lies in what remains unsaid.
What caught my attention was Mary Musgrove, who is horrid. I know that woman, and she is vile. She makes me absolutely insane. She is every co-dependent, whiny woman who makes the rest of us look bad. Her suffering is greater than anyone else's suffering, and no one has ever been as ill as she becomes the second someone accuses her of hypochondria. Mary is funny because she is ridiculous; pitiable because she doesn't realize that her self-victimization is depressing. Austen nailed the characterization: by understanding Mary, I began to comprehend Anne.
Every family should be so lucky as to have an Anne. Especially a family with an attention-starved youngest sibling, a father unable to see past his own vanity, and an eldest daughter comfortable taking up her father's mantle as an attractive (and thereby superior) member of Society. Any family with an Elizabeth and a Mary must have an Anne or the entire house of cards goes caput, regardless of the caliber of advice offered by good friends. And any Anne -- who must make everyone else's lives function properly -- goes unnoticed as the cogs in a well-oiled machine. She is quiet, efficient, and practical, and she works with what resources are available.
This is a tale which encapsulates familial relations, constancy, and silence, bound together with duty, honor, and resilience. It contains one of the most obvious Austen discussions on bloom, and whether a woman can be expected to retrieve a bloom once lost. Persuasion ponders the boundaries of social class, dwelling upon the stratification between a wealthy naval officer and a broke baronet, urging the reader to choose the infinitely superior without setting aside the issue of bloodlines. For which is better: the company of clever, well-informed people with a good deal of conversation, or a blue-blooded court, fanning itself with peacock feathers and crocodile smiles?
Alongside all this is the titular issue of persuasion – not just the feebleness of character so despised by Frederick Wentworth, but the ability of language to impact its surroundings. A well-worded argument from a well-meaning friend causes Anne Elliot to end an engagement with a good, but poor, man with minimal prospects. Conversely, Mary's constant protestations of illness are counterproductive from the beginning, as no one ever believes that she is actually ill. Likewise, Louisa Musgrove's constant assertions of self-will and independence fall flat: they lack substance aside from youthful enthusiasm and flattery.
The double-sided nature of language reveals itself through simple, cheerful gossip. A handsome officer waltzes into town, and every man, woman, and child wonders aloud which of two women he will marry. An innocuous statement repeated only as a conversational standard, it still has the power to influence the behavior of the main characters. I loved the symmetry between Frederick and Louisa, Anne and Mr. Elliot. Anne is never fully convinced that her Captain intends to marry a pretty, flirtatious girl, but he hears a few reports of Anne’s presumed engagement and tears off in a huff. No communication occurs until both cease to listen to external voices, and, uncertain of how to properly converse, are rendered speechless. Every time I read the passage in which Captain Wentworth and Anne wait out the rain, I catch my breath because it is so natural, I can see it happening, both stumbling over their own tongues in an attempt to convey that which cannot easily be vocalized. I love the letters; I love the moments of stillness and silence.
I know it’s some sort of review convention to explain why this book isn’t Pride and Prejudice, but I’ve no wish to get into that line of reasoning. I love Lizzie Bennett, and I see a lot of myself in her. But Lizzie is loud, and Anne is soft. One is considered a local beauty; the other has lost her bloom. Lizzie gets her fairy tale redemption, and Anne, an adult, engages a grown man who knows her through and through, enough that they can be quiet and still understand one another perfectly.
Forget Mr. Darcy. I want an Anne in my life.
32eldashwood
Hi, tjblue! Thank you for the update! I'll have to check it out.
*saunters over to Porua's thread to check out this review*
*saunters over to Porua's thread to check out this review*
33eldashwood
You know what's awesome? Work. You know what's even more awesome than actually doing work? Why, taking a break to write book reviews, of course.
I'd never actually read book 30, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, although my mother read it to me when I was a kid. I vaguely recalled it being amusing, but not entirely gripping, yet my sister fell in love with it. In my twenties, I realized that I've forgotten the basic premise to the Narnia books (I'd slogged through 2-5 moderately successfully but remember being quickly bored).
So it's a new semi-social experiment. I'm rereading books I either loved or feel like I should have loved as a child, and I want to see how different they look from my perspective now.
That said, I infinitely prefer the Narnia books now because I now have something resembling an attention span. I don't appear to have had one as a kid. I also notice way more. Example: the White Witch, though portrayed as humanoid, is not a Daughter of Eve. That didn't make sense to me as a kid, so I ignored it and moved on. This time around, I caught her origins. She was a daughter of Lilith (Oh, I see what you did there) and therefore, not human.
Anyway, basic premise: kids play hide and seek in a wardrobe and end up in a magic kingdom where it's always snowing and a Christian allegory involving Jesus-lion, Judas-brother-brat, and a healthy dose of monarchism. It was cute, and I enjoyed reading it even if the allegory got a little heavy handed at times. Also, Mr. and Mrs. Beaver were hilarious.
My healthy skepticism had to be reminded to stop questioning the work and just deal because it's a story for children. So, when I wanted to ask, how can these kids who have never lifted a fencing foil suddenly fight off armies with their swords? the answer is clearly: magic. Or, under some interpretations, Jesus. Maybe a little of both.
A book that did stand the test of time was 31, The Ordinary Princess by M. M. Kaye. I think its awesomeness can best be conveyed in dramatic form.
A Conversation with My Subconscious Mind
(a play in one act)
ACT ONE
(The scene begins at an OFFICE, where Our Intrepid Heroine (OIH) sits, dutifully clacking away at a KEYBOARD. She sips from a MUG OF COFFEE and stops typing to grab a file. She stares tiredly at the COMPUTER SCREEN and jumps as a VOICE chimes in from out of nowhere.)
Book: Hey. Hey. Stop being productive and start thinking about princesses.
OIH: ...
Book: Remember me? I was awesome.
OIH: Didn't I read you like twelve times when I was in grade school?
Book: Yes. And I mean, that's cool and all, but I have standards. And needs. As a timeless classic too many people have never heard of, I demand that you reread me.
OIH: But my library doesn't have a copy?
Book: Is that the best you can do? Interlibrary loan, dude. It's the coolest thing since peanut butter.
OIH: Don't you mean sliced bread?
Book: Peanut butter is the best thing since sliced bread, and I'm better than peanut butter.
OIH: I don't know if I'd go that far.
Book: I poke fun at fairy tale convention in an amusing and heartfelt manner! I offer an ordinary heroine who has gorgeous sisters and overbearing parents and isn't completely messed up!
OIH: (contemplatively) This is true...
Book: Also, I provide an excellent role model in that the princess listens to her own heart and instincts, but also admits when she's wrong and never loses faith in herself. And she doesn't magically become beautiful, but that's just fine with everyone involved.
OIH: Well, yes, but --
Book: Just shut up and reread me already.
END SCENE
EPILOGUE
OIH: So I read it, and it was still awesome. For different reasons, though. It was still cute and fun, and I loved the spunky heroine and the sheer lack of malice throughout all of the characters. Plus, the names of places were fantastic. Like, Phantasmogoria. Brilliant. I mean, I might not have loved it so much if I read it for the first time as an adult, but the reread left me smiling and reaffirmed in the beauty of the world. Really, you have to give a book credit that can do that. Am I right, book?
Book: You betcha.
THE END
I'd never actually read book 30, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, although my mother read it to me when I was a kid. I vaguely recalled it being amusing, but not entirely gripping, yet my sister fell in love with it. In my twenties, I realized that I've forgotten the basic premise to the Narnia books (I'd slogged through 2-5 moderately successfully but remember being quickly bored).
So it's a new semi-social experiment. I'm rereading books I either loved or feel like I should have loved as a child, and I want to see how different they look from my perspective now.
That said, I infinitely prefer the Narnia books now because I now have something resembling an attention span. I don't appear to have had one as a kid. I also notice way more. Example: the White Witch, though portrayed as humanoid, is not a Daughter of Eve. That didn't make sense to me as a kid, so I ignored it and moved on. This time around, I caught her origins. She was a daughter of Lilith (Oh, I see what you did there) and therefore, not human.
Anyway, basic premise: kids play hide and seek in a wardrobe and end up in a magic kingdom where it's always snowing and a Christian allegory involving Jesus-lion, Judas-brother-brat, and a healthy dose of monarchism. It was cute, and I enjoyed reading it even if the allegory got a little heavy handed at times. Also, Mr. and Mrs. Beaver were hilarious.
My healthy skepticism had to be reminded to stop questioning the work and just deal because it's a story for children. So, when I wanted to ask, how can these kids who have never lifted a fencing foil suddenly fight off armies with their swords? the answer is clearly: magic. Or, under some interpretations, Jesus. Maybe a little of both.
A book that did stand the test of time was 31, The Ordinary Princess by M. M. Kaye. I think its awesomeness can best be conveyed in dramatic form.
A Conversation with My Subconscious Mind
(a play in one act)
ACT ONE
(The scene begins at an OFFICE, where Our Intrepid Heroine (OIH) sits, dutifully clacking away at a KEYBOARD. She sips from a MUG OF COFFEE and stops typing to grab a file. She stares tiredly at the COMPUTER SCREEN and jumps as a VOICE chimes in from out of nowhere.)
Book: Hey. Hey. Stop being productive and start thinking about princesses.
OIH: ...
Book: Remember me? I was awesome.
OIH: Didn't I read you like twelve times when I was in grade school?
Book: Yes. And I mean, that's cool and all, but I have standards. And needs. As a timeless classic too many people have never heard of, I demand that you reread me.
OIH: But my library doesn't have a copy?
Book: Is that the best you can do? Interlibrary loan, dude. It's the coolest thing since peanut butter.
OIH: Don't you mean sliced bread?
Book: Peanut butter is the best thing since sliced bread, and I'm better than peanut butter.
OIH: I don't know if I'd go that far.
Book: I poke fun at fairy tale convention in an amusing and heartfelt manner! I offer an ordinary heroine who has gorgeous sisters and overbearing parents and isn't completely messed up!
OIH: (contemplatively) This is true...
Book: Also, I provide an excellent role model in that the princess listens to her own heart and instincts, but also admits when she's wrong and never loses faith in herself. And she doesn't magically become beautiful, but that's just fine with everyone involved.
OIH: Well, yes, but --
Book: Just shut up and reread me already.
END SCENE
EPILOGUE
OIH: So I read it, and it was still awesome. For different reasons, though. It was still cute and fun, and I loved the spunky heroine and the sheer lack of malice throughout all of the characters. Plus, the names of places were fantastic. Like, Phantasmogoria. Brilliant. I mean, I might not have loved it so much if I read it for the first time as an adult, but the reread left me smiling and reaffirmed in the beauty of the world. Really, you have to give a book credit that can do that. Am I right, book?
Book: You betcha.
THE END
34eldashwood
Ok. I'm sick of the backlog. Sorry in advance for the uberlong post!
32. Eleanor Roosevelt Vol. 1: 1884-1933 - Blanche Wiesen Cook
This biography was gripping. I feel like I haven't finished it yet because it's Vol. 1, and it ended when FDR was elected.
Basically, I read this and felt very lazy. ER was a formidable woman whose accomplishments have been lauded for decades. What I didn't know was that J. Edgar Hoover kept an FBI dossier on her roughly the size of the Oxford English Dictionary.
I loved it. I can't wait to read Vol. 2.
33. The Moving Finger - Agatha Christie
Narrated from the perspective of a previously athletic man who, under strict instructions from his physician not to exert himself, moves with his sister to a country village he expects to be quiet, calm, and lacking in bizarre murders. Not so much. The town has been besieged by poison pen letters, and startlingly inaccurate ones at that. Then a woman kills herself. Then there's a murder. Then the vicar's loopy wife calls in reinforcements in a little old lady who is as interested in town gossip as the white wool sweaters she knits.
I really would have liked to see more of Miss Marple in a Miss Marple mystery, but it's very interesting to observe Christie's style. Maybe Poirot ticked her off by being too present; regardless, it's fascinating to see a sleuth who convinces other people to do the legwork she's predicted because her old knees aren't what they used to be.
34. Prince Caspian - C. S. Lewis
Cute. Short. Narnian. Not as good as The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, but a fun read about the boy who would be prince and the Kings and Queens of Narnia he rips out of reality by blowing a magic horn. I feel my faith in Aslan greatly strengthened by the reading of this tome.
35. Babel Tower - A. S. Byatt
This is the only book to cause me to miss my stop on the train. I was so engrossed that I blew right past my station and had to call my mother to come pick me up.
Possession will always be my favorite of Byatt's - partly because it was the novel to introduce me to the author, partly because it's a masterpiece - but this is one that really spoke to me the second time around. I somehow missed the unifying dissertation on language last time, only vaguely connecting spoken thought (or the lack of thereof, silence, etc.) to the title, a legend on the birth of language.
I've read some reviews calling Babel Tower a mess in twelve parts, and it's true that there are multiple parallel plot lines. However, the plots are balanced and overlapping, even if it is a little difficult to say exactly what the novel is about in a sentence.
It's about Frederica, an Englishwoman attempting to divorce her husband and retain custody of her son. It's also about education, as it traces civil servants on a committee to analyze primary-level schools and determine which was the "right" way to teach. In examining teaching, the book begins to discuss grammar, words, and theories suggesting that a lack of formal language instruction diminishes a person's capacity to think. It's also about a clergyman who works for the Listeners, a suicide hotline, and his relationship with his estranged children. It's about a book, written ostensibly by one of the characters, which may or may not be obscene, and is used as a frame narrative to offer alternative context to the rest of the story. Its trial mirrors the Lady Chatterly affair even as it is set alongside Frederica's divorce and custody hearings.
The book is brilliant. It's the third in a quartet. I liked the first two, but to this one, I have sworn undying love.
32. Eleanor Roosevelt Vol. 1: 1884-1933 - Blanche Wiesen Cook
This biography was gripping. I feel like I haven't finished it yet because it's Vol. 1, and it ended when FDR was elected.
Basically, I read this and felt very lazy. ER was a formidable woman whose accomplishments have been lauded for decades. What I didn't know was that J. Edgar Hoover kept an FBI dossier on her roughly the size of the Oxford English Dictionary.
I loved it. I can't wait to read Vol. 2.
33. The Moving Finger - Agatha Christie
Narrated from the perspective of a previously athletic man who, under strict instructions from his physician not to exert himself, moves with his sister to a country village he expects to be quiet, calm, and lacking in bizarre murders. Not so much. The town has been besieged by poison pen letters, and startlingly inaccurate ones at that. Then a woman kills herself. Then there's a murder. Then the vicar's loopy wife calls in reinforcements in a little old lady who is as interested in town gossip as the white wool sweaters she knits.
I really would have liked to see more of Miss Marple in a Miss Marple mystery, but it's very interesting to observe Christie's style. Maybe Poirot ticked her off by being too present; regardless, it's fascinating to see a sleuth who convinces other people to do the legwork she's predicted because her old knees aren't what they used to be.
34. Prince Caspian - C. S. Lewis
Cute. Short. Narnian. Not as good as The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, but a fun read about the boy who would be prince and the Kings and Queens of Narnia he rips out of reality by blowing a magic horn. I feel my faith in Aslan greatly strengthened by the reading of this tome.
35. Babel Tower - A. S. Byatt
This is the only book to cause me to miss my stop on the train. I was so engrossed that I blew right past my station and had to call my mother to come pick me up.
Possession will always be my favorite of Byatt's - partly because it was the novel to introduce me to the author, partly because it's a masterpiece - but this is one that really spoke to me the second time around. I somehow missed the unifying dissertation on language last time, only vaguely connecting spoken thought (or the lack of thereof, silence, etc.) to the title, a legend on the birth of language.
I've read some reviews calling Babel Tower a mess in twelve parts, and it's true that there are multiple parallel plot lines. However, the plots are balanced and overlapping, even if it is a little difficult to say exactly what the novel is about in a sentence.
It's about Frederica, an Englishwoman attempting to divorce her husband and retain custody of her son. It's also about education, as it traces civil servants on a committee to analyze primary-level schools and determine which was the "right" way to teach. In examining teaching, the book begins to discuss grammar, words, and theories suggesting that a lack of formal language instruction diminishes a person's capacity to think. It's also about a clergyman who works for the Listeners, a suicide hotline, and his relationship with his estranged children. It's about a book, written ostensibly by one of the characters, which may or may not be obscene, and is used as a frame narrative to offer alternative context to the rest of the story. Its trial mirrors the Lady Chatterly affair even as it is set alongside Frederica's divorce and custody hearings.
The book is brilliant. It's the third in a quartet. I liked the first two, but to this one, I have sworn undying love.
35eldashwood
36/37. Everworld: Books I and II (Search for Senna and Land of Loss) - K. A. Applegate
I read this series when I was in junior high, and I remember not really getting it in places. I've also completely forgotten what happened, except for the following:
1. Athena shows up at some point, and she's kind of ambivalent about humanity. She seemed very cold, and my 12-13 year-old self was saddened.
2. I'm pretty sure they meet King Arthur at some point.
Neither of which happened in the first two books, but that's okay. I'm going to end up rereading the series. It's about a bunch of kids who accidentally travel to a parallel dimension in which all the mythological dieties of the past reign.
I recall Applegate as a cool lady because my sister and I were absolutely addicted to the Animorphs books. They were topical, well-researched, and didn't ever talk down to kids. They also didn't ignore the problems with being secret kid superheroes (grades plummeting, anxiety, insomnia, parents wondering why you're acting like a lunatic, etc.) and with saving the world in general (moral quandaries, animal rights questions, seemingly unbeatable odds).
So I wondered how Everworld would translate once I was older, having actually learned about mythology and legend. The first two books went fast - about an hour and a half apiece. Also, there are some implications that went way over my head when I was 12, like the self-appointed "leader" having a macho complex. I got that he was a tough guy; I totally missed a suggestion that he'd been abused as a child. As an adult, I read the same passage and went, wait, what?
Again, Applegate's researched her mythology and created a bunch of interesting characters. I love that they hate each other half the time (for various reasons). It would be too easy to make them bond... much more room for internal plot developments if they spend a portion of the books at each others' throats or doubting one another.
38. The Voyage of the Dawn Treader - C. S. Lewis
I need a Narnia break after this, I think. The story was amusing, and it was a fun adventure story. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is still the best book in the series so far. This one got a bit preachy in places. Also, Aslan spent a majority of the book being the deus ex machina (a decent technique when employed once. After Lewis pulled the god machine out of the forest for the third time, it began to be boring). It lagged at times. However, it was amusing, and I have sworn to read the Narnia books this year.
Still, maybe I'll read something with some substance to it next. No one said I had to read them all in a row.
I read this series when I was in junior high, and I remember not really getting it in places. I've also completely forgotten what happened, except for the following:
1. Athena shows up at some point, and she's kind of ambivalent about humanity. She seemed very cold, and my 12-13 year-old self was saddened.
2. I'm pretty sure they meet King Arthur at some point.
Neither of which happened in the first two books, but that's okay. I'm going to end up rereading the series. It's about a bunch of kids who accidentally travel to a parallel dimension in which all the mythological dieties of the past reign.
I recall Applegate as a cool lady because my sister and I were absolutely addicted to the Animorphs books. They were topical, well-researched, and didn't ever talk down to kids. They also didn't ignore the problems with being secret kid superheroes (grades plummeting, anxiety, insomnia, parents wondering why you're acting like a lunatic, etc.) and with saving the world in general (moral quandaries, animal rights questions, seemingly unbeatable odds).
So I wondered how Everworld would translate once I was older, having actually learned about mythology and legend. The first two books went fast - about an hour and a half apiece. Also, there are some implications that went way over my head when I was 12, like the self-appointed "leader" having a macho complex. I got that he was a tough guy; I totally missed a suggestion that he'd been abused as a child. As an adult, I read the same passage and went, wait, what?
Again, Applegate's researched her mythology and created a bunch of interesting characters. I love that they hate each other half the time (for various reasons). It would be too easy to make them bond... much more room for internal plot developments if they spend a portion of the books at each others' throats or doubting one another.
38. The Voyage of the Dawn Treader - C. S. Lewis
I need a Narnia break after this, I think. The story was amusing, and it was a fun adventure story. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is still the best book in the series so far. This one got a bit preachy in places. Also, Aslan spent a majority of the book being the deus ex machina (a decent technique when employed once. After Lewis pulled the god machine out of the forest for the third time, it began to be boring). It lagged at times. However, it was amusing, and I have sworn to read the Narnia books this year.
Still, maybe I'll read something with some substance to it next. No one said I had to read them all in a row.
36eldashwood
Ug. May has been a kind of "shoot-me-in-the-head" kind of month, so I've been scarce again. However, I bring with me good tidings of great joy and lots of books. Did I mention the books? I get verbose here, so... sorry!
39. A Whistling Woman - A. S. Byatt
This was a reread, but a first reread because I picked it up for the first time last year (about this time, actually). It really makes me want to go to grad school for literature. Byatt has this unique talent of making me wish that I were employed in academia... while conveniently forgetting that I am employed in academia, just not as an academic. I'm a secretary, which means that I have plenty of time to read, as I've no outside duties, but also that I'm reading for my own amusement rather than expecting to create major breakthrough theses from the work.
A Whistling Woman is a woman who does not act in an altogether ladylike fashion -- someone who does something as uncouth as whistle or wear trousers in public. I don't know that Frederica ever actually does either, but she is independent-minded to the point of irritation most of the time. In this novel, she becomes a television personality almost by accident because she thinks that maybe it will enable her to teach someone something. This book, as I forgot from the last time I read it, is largely about the behavior of groups. It converges upon a therapeutic community/cult, the anti-academia movement of the late 60s, and the impact that television has on group perception. All overlap with one another in different ways, but there are multiple distinct storylines which, for the most part, remain separate over the course of the novel.
My favorite thing about this book is that Frederica's son has problems reading. He's not dyslexic, but he is one of those students who learns best through phonics and deconstruction, a structure not provided at his school, which prefers the "feel your way/discovery" method. Possibly the most beautiful scene in the book features Frederica cooking dinner while her son sits at the kitchen table, pouring over his reading lesson sent by his grandfather and his cousins' grade school teacher. Having just learned the "ph" sound, he begins spelling everything with a ph-- phish, phollow, lauph. The passage shows him laughing in delight at the discovery of wordplay, and I can't even explain why it's so beautiful. I just love it.
Anyway, read this quartet. It's lovely.
40. Jane Austen in Scarsdale: Or Love, Death, and the SATs - Paula Marantz Cohen
I expected to dislike this book, even though my mother told me it would be fun. I'm not actually big on chick lit, and though I love Ms. Austen, I'm not always a big fan of her adaptations.
However, this was cute. The setup felt a little heavy-handed in the first 30 pages or so, but that may just be because I've read Persuasion about twelve times and was thinking, "Okay, I got it."
Cohen deviated from Persuasion's storyline enough that I didn't spend the entire story knowing exactly what was going to happen next. It's an adaptation, so it was apparent sometimes, but not always. So basically, I give her props for telling a completely separate story while harkening back to the basis for the tale.
Funniest moment in the book: Anne's grandmother lambasting women for trying to live Jane Austen novels, complaining that Persuasion's Anne Elliot was way too long-suffering to be allowed to be happy in real life. Hee.
41. Enter the Enchanted - K. A. Applegate
Continuing the adventures of the Chicago suburbanites whisked away into another universe. I don't know that I actually noticed anything new with this book, like I had with 1 and 2, but we met Galahad (not King Arthur) and got into loads of trouble again.
42 and 43. Swordspoint and The Privilege of the Sword by Ellen Kushner
Basically, Swordpoint + The Privilege of the Sword = one big novel. I got my resolution from Swordpoint in its sequel, and then some.
Basic setup: a town with no name (though two districts: The Hill for rich people and Riverside for the rest) that's basically a hybrid between medieval Venice, France, and England. Squabbles are settled by duel, but the nobles hire swordsmen to fight as proxies. The book focused partly on the best swordsman in town and partly on the noble political circle. I liked it, but it felt unfinished.
Then I read The Privilege of the Sword, which continued the adventures of a good number of the characters from Swordspoint. They took something like a fifteen-year break. This book had me howling because the women act like women. Not all women all the time, obviously, but that gossipy overanalysis we all do that we totally pretend doesn't happen when there are men in the room? Yeah. Yeah, Kushner nailed it (You know you wonder what he meant when he sent you flowers. Because they're roses. Yellow roses. Why would someone in the throes of heated passion send you yellow roses? Seriously, now). Truth be told, I was actually a little annoyed at the insipid women in the beginning (though amused when our intrepid heroine pictured herself sweeping elegantly down well-structured staircases like a Gothic heroine). Then they introduced the book within the book, and y'all know I'm mad about that trope.
The Swordsman Whose Name Was Not Death, written by A Lady of Quality, is a trashy romance novel. And not just any trashy romance novel: it's Twilight, only with better writing (also: swordfights!). All the girls in the book are utterly mad for the tale, and it's used as a frame narrative in highly amusing ways. This ridiculous book, scorned by men and older married women, influences our heroines to act the way they do depending on who in the story they decide to emulate. Do they see themselves as the daring romantic lead? The intrepid heroine? The best friend who totally should be the love interest but isn't for some reason because he's way cooler? It was funny the first time Kushner brought it up. It was funnier the second time. But this lady doesn't even need to obey the rule of three: every time she brings up The Swordsman Whose Name Was Not Death, it becomes sillier (and occasionally very pertinent).
Oh, frame narratives. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
The other thing I absolutely adored about this book: the characters grew. Every major character introduced in the beginning of the book had metamorphosed by the end, and I love it. I hate the books with stagnant characters who are perfect at the start and never ever change because that would remove the sparkle for the reader proxy. I want my heroes to change and grow throughout the story, because that's what people do. Even if it's in a very small way -- speaking up easier around a group of people, gaining or losing confidence, a slight attitudinal shift -- people adapt or fall behind.
Also: chick with a sword. That will never stop being cool.
44. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? - Philip K. Dick
I read this book because Blade Runner went completely over my head. I now have to watch it over again, because reading this book did absolutely nothing to enlighten me.
My friend Laura insisted that I had to see the 1998 Harrison Ford/Ridley Scott hyperdepressing cult classic, and I didn't get it. Granted, this may be largely because I watched it with a bunch of friends at 11 PM while the guy next to me tried not to pass out from post-finals crazy, and we demolished at least one bottle of good red wine in the process. Also, Laura kept making text-referential jokes about the movie, which means I missed a lot of the dialog in addition to having no idea what she was talking about.
Basically, I was bored. I couldn't follow what was happening, didn't like the characters, and was disinterested to the point that I do not remember the plot. I remember Space. I remember Harrison Ford Angst. I remember something with friggin silver metal unicorns. I remember thinking just how much I disliked Philip K. Dick adaptations, having been subjected to two in four days by the same bloody woman.
You know what I don't remember from the movie? Sheep. I definitely would have remembered the sheep.
The electric animals are heart-wrenching. Surrogate animals, despised at first, used as a facsimile of life as the future's tech wars/space race. Instead of coveting the latest technology, the people of the post-apocalyptic world revere all living organisms and dub spiders sacrosanct. I can get behind that world, in all honesty. Not to the extent that I want to mortgage my property to put a goat on the roof, but okay.
With the introduction of electric sheep, this transformed from something I was reading because I was, for no apparent reason, in a mood to read Philip K. Dick, to a book I couldn't put down. I read this almost straight through. It's a book about civil rights, but more interestingly, about what it means to be alive. At one point, Rick Deckard -- an infinitely more interesting human being in the text contrasted with the movie, I might add, where he was Indiana Jones with some serious manic depressive issues -- starts thinking about his electric sheep and wonders why he is compelled to care for it. The tyranny of an object.
At the same time, you have parallel images of Deckard hunting down androids and a delivery boy who picks up the electric animals to take them to be repaired. Some people, it seems, become attached to their electric animals despite the stigma against owning a mechanical bird.
Then there's a lot of stuff about God and some clever roundabout references to a God Machine. Heh.
It's... I don't know. I was less interested in the androids than I was in the electric animals. Even though they were clearly supposed to be two sides of the same coin, I felt more empathy for the circuit board livestock than the non-empathic (but sentient) humanoid robots. Maybe it's just what the animals represented that got to me.
And that's why I didn't like Blade Runner. It didn't have electric sheep.
45. The Stone Gods - Jeanette Winterson
This was a three-part book. The first section is about finding a new planet, social commentary on our obsession with youth, and the plasticity of our bodies. Winterson juxtaposed a non-limbic android who felt and read poetry alongside an age-fixed hyperactive woman obsessed with celebrity and youth. The main characters, Billie and Spike, go as part of a mission to find the new world.
The second part is about a steward on Captain Cook's ship, Billy, who ends up stranded on Easter Island. He's rescued by a European man raised with the natives who barely speaks English (Spikker), protects him from the island's other occupants, and plans to take part in the religious war occurring on the island. Symbolism ensues.
The third part is about a computer programmer named Billie, who works on a robot called Spike in the vein of the first segment, only they're slightly different people. Sort of. I stopped buying it during this part because it got very thin, logic-wise, and Winterson couldn't make up her mind whether the first segment was true or a story.
The book was diverting, but it didn't leave me craving more.
39. A Whistling Woman - A. S. Byatt
This was a reread, but a first reread because I picked it up for the first time last year (about this time, actually). It really makes me want to go to grad school for literature. Byatt has this unique talent of making me wish that I were employed in academia... while conveniently forgetting that I am employed in academia, just not as an academic. I'm a secretary, which means that I have plenty of time to read, as I've no outside duties, but also that I'm reading for my own amusement rather than expecting to create major breakthrough theses from the work.
A Whistling Woman is a woman who does not act in an altogether ladylike fashion -- someone who does something as uncouth as whistle or wear trousers in public. I don't know that Frederica ever actually does either, but she is independent-minded to the point of irritation most of the time. In this novel, she becomes a television personality almost by accident because she thinks that maybe it will enable her to teach someone something. This book, as I forgot from the last time I read it, is largely about the behavior of groups. It converges upon a therapeutic community/cult, the anti-academia movement of the late 60s, and the impact that television has on group perception. All overlap with one another in different ways, but there are multiple distinct storylines which, for the most part, remain separate over the course of the novel.
My favorite thing about this book is that Frederica's son has problems reading. He's not dyslexic, but he is one of those students who learns best through phonics and deconstruction, a structure not provided at his school, which prefers the "feel your way/discovery" method. Possibly the most beautiful scene in the book features Frederica cooking dinner while her son sits at the kitchen table, pouring over his reading lesson sent by his grandfather and his cousins' grade school teacher. Having just learned the "ph" sound, he begins spelling everything with a ph-- phish, phollow, lauph. The passage shows him laughing in delight at the discovery of wordplay, and I can't even explain why it's so beautiful. I just love it.
Anyway, read this quartet. It's lovely.
40. Jane Austen in Scarsdale: Or Love, Death, and the SATs - Paula Marantz Cohen
I expected to dislike this book, even though my mother told me it would be fun. I'm not actually big on chick lit, and though I love Ms. Austen, I'm not always a big fan of her adaptations.
However, this was cute. The setup felt a little heavy-handed in the first 30 pages or so, but that may just be because I've read Persuasion about twelve times and was thinking, "Okay, I got it."
Cohen deviated from Persuasion's storyline enough that I didn't spend the entire story knowing exactly what was going to happen next. It's an adaptation, so it was apparent sometimes, but not always. So basically, I give her props for telling a completely separate story while harkening back to the basis for the tale.
Funniest moment in the book: Anne's grandmother lambasting women for trying to live Jane Austen novels, complaining that Persuasion's Anne Elliot was way too long-suffering to be allowed to be happy in real life. Hee.
41. Enter the Enchanted - K. A. Applegate
Continuing the adventures of the Chicago suburbanites whisked away into another universe. I don't know that I actually noticed anything new with this book, like I had with 1 and 2, but we met Galahad (not King Arthur) and got into loads of trouble again.
42 and 43. Swordspoint and The Privilege of the Sword by Ellen Kushner
Basically, Swordpoint + The Privilege of the Sword = one big novel. I got my resolution from Swordpoint in its sequel, and then some.
Basic setup: a town with no name (though two districts: The Hill for rich people and Riverside for the rest) that's basically a hybrid between medieval Venice, France, and England. Squabbles are settled by duel, but the nobles hire swordsmen to fight as proxies. The book focused partly on the best swordsman in town and partly on the noble political circle. I liked it, but it felt unfinished.
Then I read The Privilege of the Sword, which continued the adventures of a good number of the characters from Swordspoint. They took something like a fifteen-year break. This book had me howling because the women act like women. Not all women all the time, obviously, but that gossipy overanalysis we all do that we totally pretend doesn't happen when there are men in the room? Yeah. Yeah, Kushner nailed it (You know you wonder what he meant when he sent you flowers. Because they're roses. Yellow roses. Why would someone in the throes of heated passion send you yellow roses? Seriously, now). Truth be told, I was actually a little annoyed at the insipid women in the beginning (though amused when our intrepid heroine pictured herself sweeping elegantly down well-structured staircases like a Gothic heroine). Then they introduced the book within the book, and y'all know I'm mad about that trope.
The Swordsman Whose Name Was Not Death, written by A Lady of Quality, is a trashy romance novel. And not just any trashy romance novel: it's Twilight, only with better writing (also: swordfights!). All the girls in the book are utterly mad for the tale, and it's used as a frame narrative in highly amusing ways. This ridiculous book, scorned by men and older married women, influences our heroines to act the way they do depending on who in the story they decide to emulate. Do they see themselves as the daring romantic lead? The intrepid heroine? The best friend who totally should be the love interest but isn't for some reason because he's way cooler? It was funny the first time Kushner brought it up. It was funnier the second time. But this lady doesn't even need to obey the rule of three: every time she brings up The Swordsman Whose Name Was Not Death, it becomes sillier (and occasionally very pertinent).
Oh, frame narratives. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
The other thing I absolutely adored about this book: the characters grew. Every major character introduced in the beginning of the book had metamorphosed by the end, and I love it. I hate the books with stagnant characters who are perfect at the start and never ever change because that would remove the sparkle for the reader proxy. I want my heroes to change and grow throughout the story, because that's what people do. Even if it's in a very small way -- speaking up easier around a group of people, gaining or losing confidence, a slight attitudinal shift -- people adapt or fall behind.
Also: chick with a sword. That will never stop being cool.
44. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? - Philip K. Dick
I read this book because Blade Runner went completely over my head. I now have to watch it over again, because reading this book did absolutely nothing to enlighten me.
My friend Laura insisted that I had to see the 1998 Harrison Ford/Ridley Scott hyperdepressing cult classic, and I didn't get it. Granted, this may be largely because I watched it with a bunch of friends at 11 PM while the guy next to me tried not to pass out from post-finals crazy, and we demolished at least one bottle of good red wine in the process. Also, Laura kept making text-referential jokes about the movie, which means I missed a lot of the dialog in addition to having no idea what she was talking about.
Basically, I was bored. I couldn't follow what was happening, didn't like the characters, and was disinterested to the point that I do not remember the plot. I remember Space. I remember Harrison Ford Angst. I remember something with friggin silver metal unicorns. I remember thinking just how much I disliked Philip K. Dick adaptations, having been subjected to two in four days by the same bloody woman.
You know what I don't remember from the movie? Sheep. I definitely would have remembered the sheep.
The electric animals are heart-wrenching. Surrogate animals, despised at first, used as a facsimile of life as the future's tech wars/space race. Instead of coveting the latest technology, the people of the post-apocalyptic world revere all living organisms and dub spiders sacrosanct. I can get behind that world, in all honesty. Not to the extent that I want to mortgage my property to put a goat on the roof, but okay.
With the introduction of electric sheep, this transformed from something I was reading because I was, for no apparent reason, in a mood to read Philip K. Dick, to a book I couldn't put down. I read this almost straight through. It's a book about civil rights, but more interestingly, about what it means to be alive. At one point, Rick Deckard -- an infinitely more interesting human being in the text contrasted with the movie, I might add, where he was Indiana Jones with some serious manic depressive issues -- starts thinking about his electric sheep and wonders why he is compelled to care for it. The tyranny of an object.
At the same time, you have parallel images of Deckard hunting down androids and a delivery boy who picks up the electric animals to take them to be repaired. Some people, it seems, become attached to their electric animals despite the stigma against owning a mechanical bird.
Then there's a lot of stuff about God and some clever roundabout references to a God Machine. Heh.
It's... I don't know. I was less interested in the androids than I was in the electric animals. Even though they were clearly supposed to be two sides of the same coin, I felt more empathy for the circuit board livestock than the non-empathic (but sentient) humanoid robots. Maybe it's just what the animals represented that got to me.
And that's why I didn't like Blade Runner. It didn't have electric sheep.
45. The Stone Gods - Jeanette Winterson
This was a three-part book. The first section is about finding a new planet, social commentary on our obsession with youth, and the plasticity of our bodies. Winterson juxtaposed a non-limbic android who felt and read poetry alongside an age-fixed hyperactive woman obsessed with celebrity and youth. The main characters, Billie and Spike, go as part of a mission to find the new world.
The second part is about a steward on Captain Cook's ship, Billy, who ends up stranded on Easter Island. He's rescued by a European man raised with the natives who barely speaks English (Spikker), protects him from the island's other occupants, and plans to take part in the religious war occurring on the island. Symbolism ensues.
The third part is about a computer programmer named Billie, who works on a robot called Spike in the vein of the first segment, only they're slightly different people. Sort of. I stopped buying it during this part because it got very thin, logic-wise, and Winterson couldn't make up her mind whether the first segment was true or a story.
The book was diverting, but it didn't leave me craving more.
38eldashwood
Oh man. I didn't get backlogged so much as completely fall off the face of the earth. I changed jobs in late August, moved, and spent the entirety of July glued to the Dresden Files. And then life got really crazy. As a result, I was reading and forgetting to write it down.
So, here's what I've been up to since last we met:
46. Neuromancer - William Gibson
47. Ender's Game - Orson Scott Card
48. To Say Nothing of the Dog - Connie Willis (this was fantastic, go read it now)
49. Bitter Seeds - Ian Tregillis
50-62 I read almost without taking a breath, mainly because they were funny and well-written. This is the Dresden Files, which includes:
Storm Front
Fool Moon
Grave Peril
Summer Knight
Death Masks
Blood Rites
Grave Peril
White Night
Small Favor
Turn Coat
Changes
There's a new one out. I haven't read it yet. Grr.
63. At Bertram's Hotel - Agatha Christie
64. Howl's Moving Castle - Diana Wynne Jones
65. Castle in the Air - Diana Wynne Jones
66. House of Many Ways - Diana Wynne Jones
67. Murder on the Orient Express - Agatha Christie
68. His Magesty's Dragon - Naomi Novik
69. A Little Princess - Frances Hogston Burnett
70. The Cinderella Deal - Jennifer Crusie
71. Asleep - Banana Yoshimoto
72. Lizard - Banana Yoshimoto
73. Bloodhound - Tamora Pierce
74. Welcome To Temptation - Jennifer Crusie
75. Bet Me - Jennifer Crusie
76. Mansfield Park - Jane Austen
77. Uncle Fred in the Springtime - P. G. Wodehouse
I'm about to start Full Moon by P. G. Wodehouse, but I'm also contemplating a Barbara Pym (An Unsuitable Attachment) and A. S. Byatt (The Children's Book). In all actuality, the Wodehouse will probably win out because it's an interlibrary loan. But I also have the Byatt in my car, so who knows?
So... I hit 50 a while ago. I'll add in thoughts and/or a review for any of the books anyone wonders about.
So, here's what I've been up to since last we met:
46. Neuromancer - William Gibson
47. Ender's Game - Orson Scott Card
48. To Say Nothing of the Dog - Connie Willis (this was fantastic, go read it now)
49. Bitter Seeds - Ian Tregillis
50-62 I read almost without taking a breath, mainly because they were funny and well-written. This is the Dresden Files, which includes:
Storm Front
Fool Moon
Grave Peril
Summer Knight
Death Masks
Blood Rites
Grave Peril
White Night
Small Favor
Turn Coat
Changes
There's a new one out. I haven't read it yet. Grr.
63. At Bertram's Hotel - Agatha Christie
64. Howl's Moving Castle - Diana Wynne Jones
65. Castle in the Air - Diana Wynne Jones
66. House of Many Ways - Diana Wynne Jones
67. Murder on the Orient Express - Agatha Christie
68. His Magesty's Dragon - Naomi Novik
69. A Little Princess - Frances Hogston Burnett
70. The Cinderella Deal - Jennifer Crusie
71. Asleep - Banana Yoshimoto
72. Lizard - Banana Yoshimoto
73. Bloodhound - Tamora Pierce
74. Welcome To Temptation - Jennifer Crusie
75. Bet Me - Jennifer Crusie
76. Mansfield Park - Jane Austen
77. Uncle Fred in the Springtime - P. G. Wodehouse
I'm about to start Full Moon by P. G. Wodehouse, but I'm also contemplating a Barbara Pym (An Unsuitable Attachment) and A. S. Byatt (The Children's Book). In all actuality, the Wodehouse will probably win out because it's an interlibrary loan. But I also have the Byatt in my car, so who knows?
So... I hit 50 a while ago. I'll add in thoughts and/or a review for any of the books anyone wonders about.
39tjblue
Yay!! You're back! That's quite an impressive list! Congrats on making it to 77!!! I haven't read any on your list yet, but I just finished The Secret Garden by Burnett.
I passed 50 back in August, so I upped the ante to 75, but now for some reason I'm just trudging along and have only made it to 64. I moved over to the 75 challenge group, because there is more conversation over there, but there is almost to much going on and at first it was a bit intimidating.
Well I've got to get back to the household drudgery. I was happy to see a message from you and hope there will be more!! :-} Tammy
I passed 50 back in August, so I upped the ante to 75, but now for some reason I'm just trudging along and have only made it to 64. I moved over to the 75 challenge group, because there is more conversation over there, but there is almost to much going on and at first it was a bit intimidating.
Well I've got to get back to the household drudgery. I was happy to see a message from you and hope there will be more!! :-} Tammy
40eldashwood
Hi Tammy! I hear you: I had a serious bibliophilia thing going for a while, then a few months where I could barely read at all for assorted reasons.
I've been splitting my lunch hour between trying to find a new job and reading, so I've managed a few in the last two weeks.
78. Full Moon - P. G. Wodehouse
In this one, I got Clarence, the Earl of Emsworth (my favorite long-suffering aristocrat), faced with the saddening realization that his youngest son plans to visit for an unknown period of time. This misfortune overlaps with yet another niece whisked off to Blandings Castle's walls for falling in love with an unsuitable man. Lord Emsworth's nieces and nephews have a frightfully bad habit of doing just this, so Blandings has become an automatic seclusion for the broken-hearted, rendering Lord Emsworth helpless to prevent Suffering Girls Who Do Good Works from constantly tidying his study.
Also, Galahad, Clarence's younger brother and an eternal rabble-rouser, makes another appearance to right the wrongs inflicted by hordes of meddlesome aunts, a well-meaning dog biscuit-salesman of a younger son, a thwarted godson with no use for disguises, and a dim but pretty niece swooning over a wealthy American.
Full Moon is typical Wodehouse: light, absurd, filled with (usually) clever women with a tendency toward jealous men. Throw in a few bumbling idiots, usually with good intentions, some rather controlling aunts, at least one case of mistaken identity, and an older gentleman who acts as a confidence man, and you have utter absurdity. It's a great time.
79. Side Jobs - Jim Butcher
This is a collection of short stories from the Dresden Files universe. As you might have noticed from my list, I read them all. In less than a month.
(someone help: I'm obsessed)
There are some authors - P. G. Wodehouse is one of them, as is Banana Yoshimoto - whose work I prefer in short story format. A short story is just right for a Blandings tale, as some of the novels just tend to get overly crazy and then I have to go read something else. Likewise, I enjoy my Japanese magical realism in small doses.
Jim Butcher is not one of those authors. He does better when given a whole book to overlap multiple plot lines, add character development, and beat the big bad. I would have liked some of these stories better if they had been integrated into a book -- such as Heorot, which explained that an Amazonian woman is actually a Valkyrie. This is never stated in the series, though it is implied. I want to learn more about that woman, and the story, while fun, didn't do it.
But I really read this book because the last story (actually, novella), Aftermath, takes place two hours after the events of Changes, the most recent book with the most evil cliffhanger ending since The Empire Strikes Back.
I liked it. It didn't answer anything. I'm still claiming that Jim Butcher is a very, very bad man and I'm just going to ignore him until his next book comes out.
/turns up nose and walks away huffily
I've been splitting my lunch hour between trying to find a new job and reading, so I've managed a few in the last two weeks.
78. Full Moon - P. G. Wodehouse
In this one, I got Clarence, the Earl of Emsworth (my favorite long-suffering aristocrat), faced with the saddening realization that his youngest son plans to visit for an unknown period of time. This misfortune overlaps with yet another niece whisked off to Blandings Castle's walls for falling in love with an unsuitable man. Lord Emsworth's nieces and nephews have a frightfully bad habit of doing just this, so Blandings has become an automatic seclusion for the broken-hearted, rendering Lord Emsworth helpless to prevent Suffering Girls Who Do Good Works from constantly tidying his study.
Also, Galahad, Clarence's younger brother and an eternal rabble-rouser, makes another appearance to right the wrongs inflicted by hordes of meddlesome aunts, a well-meaning dog biscuit-salesman of a younger son, a thwarted godson with no use for disguises, and a dim but pretty niece swooning over a wealthy American.
Full Moon is typical Wodehouse: light, absurd, filled with (usually) clever women with a tendency toward jealous men. Throw in a few bumbling idiots, usually with good intentions, some rather controlling aunts, at least one case of mistaken identity, and an older gentleman who acts as a confidence man, and you have utter absurdity. It's a great time.
79. Side Jobs - Jim Butcher
This is a collection of short stories from the Dresden Files universe. As you might have noticed from my list, I read them all. In less than a month.
(someone help: I'm obsessed)
There are some authors - P. G. Wodehouse is one of them, as is Banana Yoshimoto - whose work I prefer in short story format. A short story is just right for a Blandings tale, as some of the novels just tend to get overly crazy and then I have to go read something else. Likewise, I enjoy my Japanese magical realism in small doses.
Jim Butcher is not one of those authors. He does better when given a whole book to overlap multiple plot lines, add character development, and beat the big bad. I would have liked some of these stories better if they had been integrated into a book -- such as Heorot, which explained that an Amazonian woman is actually a Valkyrie. This is never stated in the series, though it is implied. I want to learn more about that woman, and the story, while fun, didn't do it.
But I really read this book because the last story (actually, novella), Aftermath, takes place two hours after the events of Changes, the most recent book with the most evil cliffhanger ending since The Empire Strikes Back.
I liked it. It didn't answer anything. I'm still claiming that Jim Butcher is a very, very bad man and I'm just going to ignore him until his next book comes out.
/turns up nose and walks away huffily
41eldashwood
80. I Am What I Am - John Barrowman
I read Barrowman's first book, Anything Goes, last year before Christmas. I loved it. It was light and breezy, a titch gossipy, and it told a story. I picked up the second book from my library about a week after I found out it was on the shelf. It took me three weeks to finish it, which, as y'all may have guessed, is not usually the way I read books.
The internal organization was a little scattered, and it was less like reading a story than having a conversation with someone who really wants to tell you about that time he played polo, which by the way reminds him of the polo shirts he wore on a Ralph Lauren shoot, and how he's totally against shooting animals, especially horses, which brings him back to polo.
The content was okay, but every chapter scanned like the last paragraph. It got kind of old.
81. The Silver Chair - C. S. Lewis
Not my favorite Narnia. I miss Susan Pevensie, who was practical and smart, but she doesn't get to hang in Narnia anymore because she's a) too old, and b) not based on C. S. Lewis's niece.
I like the notion of a quest gone completely awry because the kids didn't really follow instructions. This one seemed less charm and more kids being dumb.
What do I have, two more books in the series?
82. The True Meaning of Smekday - Adam Rex
This book was brilliant.
Let me repeat: this book was brilliant. I woke up yesterday morning at 3 AM and couldn't get back to sleep. First, I finished The Silver Chair. Then I tossed and turned for half an hour. Then I picked up The True Meaning of Smekday, and the time before work melted away.
This book is about 11-year old Gratuity "Tip" Tucci and her book report on the true meaning of Smekday, which is what the Boov renamed Christmas (after Glorious General Smek) once they took over Earth. Accordingly, "Earthland" became "Smekland," cats (who love Boov) deserted their owners to snuggle the invaders, and every American was relocated to Florida, then Arizona, as a reservation promised to them forever. Tip, with the help of a renegade handyman Boov named J.Lo, a cat named Pig, and a flying car called Slushious, goes off in search of her mom.
The first half of the book is the first and second draft of Tip's essay for the Time Capsule Contest (five pages minimum required) and her teacher's subsequent grades and commentary. The second half is what happened after her essay ended, the part she doesn't really want anyone reading about until after she's dead. That part is about the Gorg invasion, and how she begins to tell the difference between the two invading alien races.
The allegorical ties between the Boov and the Spanish and English "discovering" America are nice. The Boov invaded because they wanted to save the "Earth Savages" from themselves, which could only be done through as nice a hostile takeover as possible. Because the Humans should be Grateful for the Respect Offered By The Boov. Whereas the Gorg just want to turn the humans into furniture.
The dialogue is hilarious. Tip acts like a kid, and her interactions with J.Lo are priceless. The human race doesn't band together and eliminate all internal differences in the face of alien invasion: instead, they act like people, maintaining their petty grievances out of habit and in the name of normalcy.
I read the book in less than a day because I couldn't put it down. It's the best new book I've read since To Say Nothing of the Dog. So go read it.
83. A Pocket Full of Rye - Agatha Christie
I read this one while I was knitting my cousin's afghan, so it was appropriate that it turned out to be a Miss Marple (who is often depicted knitting, crocheting, or gardening). I was annoyed that I figured out whodunnit so easily, but the setup was interesting. Perhaps I'm just suspicious by nature.
I read Barrowman's first book, Anything Goes, last year before Christmas. I loved it. It was light and breezy, a titch gossipy, and it told a story. I picked up the second book from my library about a week after I found out it was on the shelf. It took me three weeks to finish it, which, as y'all may have guessed, is not usually the way I read books.
The internal organization was a little scattered, and it was less like reading a story than having a conversation with someone who really wants to tell you about that time he played polo, which by the way reminds him of the polo shirts he wore on a Ralph Lauren shoot, and how he's totally against shooting animals, especially horses, which brings him back to polo.
The content was okay, but every chapter scanned like the last paragraph. It got kind of old.
81. The Silver Chair - C. S. Lewis
Not my favorite Narnia. I miss Susan Pevensie, who was practical and smart, but she doesn't get to hang in Narnia anymore because she's a) too old, and b) not based on C. S. Lewis's niece.
I like the notion of a quest gone completely awry because the kids didn't really follow instructions. This one seemed less charm and more kids being dumb.
What do I have, two more books in the series?
82. The True Meaning of Smekday - Adam Rex
This book was brilliant.
Let me repeat: this book was brilliant. I woke up yesterday morning at 3 AM and couldn't get back to sleep. First, I finished The Silver Chair. Then I tossed and turned for half an hour. Then I picked up The True Meaning of Smekday, and the time before work melted away.
This book is about 11-year old Gratuity "Tip" Tucci and her book report on the true meaning of Smekday, which is what the Boov renamed Christmas (after Glorious General Smek) once they took over Earth. Accordingly, "Earthland" became "Smekland," cats (who love Boov) deserted their owners to snuggle the invaders, and every American was relocated to Florida, then Arizona, as a reservation promised to them forever. Tip, with the help of a renegade handyman Boov named J.Lo, a cat named Pig, and a flying car called Slushious, goes off in search of her mom.
The first half of the book is the first and second draft of Tip's essay for the Time Capsule Contest (five pages minimum required) and her teacher's subsequent grades and commentary. The second half is what happened after her essay ended, the part she doesn't really want anyone reading about until after she's dead. That part is about the Gorg invasion, and how she begins to tell the difference between the two invading alien races.
The allegorical ties between the Boov and the Spanish and English "discovering" America are nice. The Boov invaded because they wanted to save the "Earth Savages" from themselves, which could only be done through as nice a hostile takeover as possible. Because the Humans should be Grateful for the Respect Offered By The Boov. Whereas the Gorg just want to turn the humans into furniture.
The dialogue is hilarious. Tip acts like a kid, and her interactions with J.Lo are priceless. The human race doesn't band together and eliminate all internal differences in the face of alien invasion: instead, they act like people, maintaining their petty grievances out of habit and in the name of normalcy.
I read the book in less than a day because I couldn't put it down. It's the best new book I've read since To Say Nothing of the Dog. So go read it.
83. A Pocket Full of Rye - Agatha Christie
I read this one while I was knitting my cousin's afghan, so it was appropriate that it turned out to be a Miss Marple (who is often depicted knitting, crocheting, or gardening). I was annoyed that I figured out whodunnit so easily, but the setup was interesting. Perhaps I'm just suspicious by nature.
