Blog Neglect

The past week has been a series of tiring days and early nights . . . we're in the process of cleaning and moving to our new home!  There are still so many things to do (some tile work, a little painting, some carpet removal, etc) and then . . . the sorting of the library. I'm suffering through the former, but I'll certainly enjoy the library-sorting!!   

In the meantime, books are being read in breaks and listened to while cleaning takes place . . . how tedious it would be otherwise. I'm just reaching the end of Nicola Upson's Angel With Two Faces.  It may actually be as diverting as the first (which is surprising given that follow-ups, sequels, continuations, whathaveyou are often a bit of a let-down after a successful first go). It has definitely kept my attention.  Dark, rather disturbing, with lots of rather creepy moments and lots to think about . . . I'll have to post about it when I return from the land of Lysol and Mr. Clean.

Books and Book Habits (some of my favourite things)

A book meme remorselessly stolen from Thomas at My Porch:

1. Favourite childhood book?

Just one?  Probably Anne of Green Gables or The Chronicles of Narnia, but the Ramona Quimby books would have given both some heavy competition. Or the Fury books (Fury, Stallion of Broken Wheel Ranch, etc).

2. What are you reading right now?

Drood by Dan Simmons

The Black Robe by Wilkie Collins

Tigana by Guy Gavriel Kay

3. What books do you have on request at the library?

I don't have any requests at the library.  I haven't had any requests in years . . . I tend to raid the shelves in a rather random manner.

4. Bad book habit?

I have a bad habit of never leaving a bookstore without buying a book. This means I have to be careful about how often I visit bookstores.

5. What do you currently have checked out at the library?

Not a thing.  

6. Do you have an e-reader?

Like Thomas at My Porch, I love the look, smell, and feel of books. And if I love a book, I want the book not the e-reader edition.  Unlike Thomas, however, I do have an e-reader.  Why? 1. The plethora of copyright free 19th century tomes (rather thicker than not) that I can download for no cost whatsoever (and without worrying about when I have to get them back to a library or which muscles I'll strain carrying them around . . . yes, whimpy, whiny, etc) .  2.  For contemporary reads that I know I'm not likely to read more than once, but reads that I am unlikely to want to pay full hardcover price for or be willing to wait, wait, wait til the local library gets a copy in.


7. Do you prefer to read one book at a time, or several at once?

Definitely several.  I have breakfast books, bedtime books, take-a-break books, and listen-to-while-I-clean books.  A book for every occasion! 

8. Have your reading habits changed since starting a blog?

Without doubt.  I think I read more fiction than I did before, and I intentionally read more books of poetry because poetry deserves more attention (well, the good stuff).  I have a tendency to read more books per year as well (I keep trying to beat my previous year's total for some reason I've yet to figure out). 

9. Least favourite book you read this year (so far?)

 Isobel & Emile by Alan Reed

10. Favourite book you’ve read this year?

Hmm . . . this is a tough one because I've already read so many great books this year.  I'll exclude classic lit, as that's just too obvious.  Probably Iris Murdoch's The Sea, The Sea, or Laurie R. King's Touchstone, or George Fetherling's Walt Whitman's Secret which was just positively brilliant and I've been working up a post about  it, but am rather intimidated about how to express just how brilliant I thought it was.

11. How often do you read out of your comfort zone?

Books are my comfort zone . . . so I'm not sure I ever read outside my comfort zone. 

12. What is your reading comfort zone?

See #11. But, more specifically, 19th century lit or mystery novels set in England between the mid-19th century and the first four or five decades of the 20th.  Or, seemingly, any novel written by Laurie R. King. Literary fiction in general, too.

13. Can you read on the bus?

I don't make much use of public transport. I have often read in the car so I suppose I could on a bus.

14. Favourite place to read?

Anywhere I can get some quiet. 

15. What is your policy on book lending?

When I lend I assume I'm never going to see the book again. Because that is what has usually happened in the past. Which is okay because it gives me an excuse to buy another copy. :)

16. Do you ever dog-ear books?

Sadly, yes, but usually only cheap paperbacks that are probably going to quickly disintegrate in a cloud of acidic dust anyway. 

17. Do you ever write in the margins of your books?

Not as an adult. As a child I thought this was a very intelligent way of reading books because I saw my much older sister marking up her textbooks in this manner.

18. Not even with text books?

Textbooks are a different species of book and, therefore, all bets are off. 

19. What is your favourite language to read in?

English.

20. What makes you love a book?

A variety of ingredients must come together to make me love a book.  Good writing, strong characterization, a story that draws me in. And there needs to be a point. I don't want to waste my time with a book that substitutes literary-wannabe-pyrotechnics  and tricks for meaning.    (that said, I do appreciate successful experimentation with form and language, but never for its own sake).

21. What will inspire you to recommend a book?

If I love a book I tend to go on about it enthusiastically . . . which may or may not recommend it. 

22. Favourite genre?

I'm not sure I have a favourite genre.  And I kind of like books that defy genre . . .  

23. Genre you rarely read (but wish you did?)

Travel memoir, perhaps . . . but only if well-written would I wish to read them more often.

24. Favourite biography?

I've enjoyed a number of biographies, but I'm not sure I have a favourite. One that stands out is Great Catherine by Carolly Erickson. Or Paul Murray Kendall's Richard the Third. Probably the latter.

25. Have you ever read a self-help book?

I've never really understood the category. 

26. Favourite cookbook?

Since I read cookbooks less for the recipes than for the inspiration, I guess my favourite cookbook would be Nigella Bites . . . which I've just recently read and which I enjoyed for the conversational rambliness of the prose. But I've yet to try any recipes from it.

27. Most inspirational book you’ve read this year (fiction or non-fiction), so far?

This is a tough one because great books are inspiring .  . . and it's hard to quantify inspiration.  Perhaps Journal of a Solitude by May Sarton or Fetherling's  Walt Whitman's Secret which is not at all like Sarton's journal, but it is inspirational for its mastery of voice and form.

28. Favourite reading snack?

Chocolate!!

29. Name a case in which hype ruined your reading experience.

The Cellist of Sarajevo by Steven Galloway. I expected a lot. It delivered a little.

30. How often do you agree with critics about a book?

Not often.  I rarely read critics before I read a book (when I do it usually leads to disappoinment. See #29). Sometimes I'll check afterward . . . to see what others have thought. But that's rare, too.  No, I tend to stick with certain bloggers.  Or a few readerly friends whose opinions I respect.

31. How do you feel about giving bad/negative reviews?

I prefer not writing about a book I haven't enjoyed.  It's tiresome to send more negativity after bad.  Plus, my dad used to say that only by concentrating on the good can we hope to achieve it.

32. If you could read in a foreign language, which language would you chose?

Well, I'd like to read better in French than I do now.  But I've long wanted to read Russian. 

33. Most intimidating book you’ve ever read?

I can't think of an intimidating book offhand.  Anything by Tolstoy can be daunting because of the necessary attention he deserves from one's sometimes weary cerebrum. And Joyce is intimidating in a way because I keep feeling guilty for disliking his novels so much. But I'm always ready to enjoy a book. 

34. Most intimidating book you’re too nervous to begin?

See #33

35. Favourite Poet?

Now this IS a difficult question. I can't just pick one . . . it's hard enough narrowing it to two: Emily Dickinson and William Shakespeare.

36. How many books do you usually have checked out of the library at any given time?

I usually find three at a time a reasonable number.  I don't overindulge in library-book-lugging as a general rule. Overindulging in book-buying, well, that's another (rather sad) story.

37. How often have you returned a book to the library unread?

Maybe a third of the time? Or somewhere between a third and half.  For some reason, I have no problem with not finishing a library book. Whereas not finishing a book purchased or given feels like a waste.  I'm not sure why that is . . . 

38. Favourite fictional character?

Well now. This is probably the hardest question to answer.  Horatio, perhaps, from Shakespeare's Hamlet. Or Hamlet himself. Oh, there are so many . . . Konstantin Levin from Anna Karenina, Atticus Finch from To Kill A Mockingbird, Anne Elliot from Persuasion, P.G. Wodehouse's Psmith, Mary Russell from Laurie R. King's Russell and Holmes series, Dr. Aziz from A Passage To India, Phineas G. Nanson from Byatt's A Biographer's Tale . . . I could go on . . .

39. Favorite fictional villain?

Richard III.

40. Books I’m most likely to bring on vacation?

It depends on where I'm going.  To St. Andrews I take beautiful reads to match the landscape and to further encourage an atmosphere of away-from-it-all, to England a few English classics aid and abet the mood, etc. 

41. The longest I’ve gone without reading.

Have I ever gone without reading? I can't really remember . . . presumably between the ages of 0 to 2 or 3? 

42. Name a book that you could/would not finish.

Easiest question here . . . the answer is Joyce's Ulysses. At least, I don't think I managed to finish it . . . I've tried to wipe away all memory of the experience.

43. What distracts you easily when you’re reading?

Noise. The sound of Mr. Inkslinger chewing, or talking, is a frequent distraction in the mornings.

44. Favourite film adaptation of a novel?

Either  A Room With A View (the Merchant/Ivory production) or A Passage To India (the David Lean film).  What makes Forster novels so amenable to adaptation? 

45. Most disappointing film adaptation?

I'm not sure. Most film adaptations are disappointing in one way or another. I guess the film adaptation of Possession . . . it just felt too hasty.  And the choice of actors was puzzling. Though I do enjoy the film when I remember to divorce it from the brilliant novel.

46. The most money I’ve ever spent in the bookstore at one time?

I don't remember.  I don't usually keep track (which may be a problem, now that I think of it). 

47. How often do you skim a book before reading it?


I don't like to skim before I start in.  I just start at the beginning and keep going until I get to the end. :)

48. What would cause you to stop reading a book half-way through?

The conviction that my time was being wasted.

49. Do you like to keep your books organized?

Yes, and I have been known to get just a tad irritated when someone comes in and haphazardly rearranges them.  I have a complex system based on period and country of origin (the author's).  Now that I'm sorting and packing for the move, however, I'll indulge in some library reorganization. 

50. Do you prefer to keep books or give them away once you’ve read them?

It depends on whether I liked the book in question. Usually keep.

51. Are there any books you’ve been avoiding?

Avoiding books? What does this mean? I avoid books I don't want to read, I suppose. 

52. Name a book that made you angry.

Any book that privileges literary trends/experimentation over substance will make me angry. Especially if it has received grants in order to exist.

53. A book you didn’t expect to like but did?

Kim by Rudyard Kipling.

54. A book that you expected to like but didn’t?

The Cellist of Sarajevo by Steven Galloway.  

55. Favourite guilt-free, pleasure reading?

How can reading have anything to do with guilt?(well, I suppose I can think of a few examples .  .). And reading itself is kind of a pleasure.

I've been waiting to post about The Cellist of Sarajevo . . . I wanted to first finish the other book I'm reading for Canadian Book Challenge 4, McCartney's For and Against,* because they both go in the 'I don't think I would have kept reading this if it wasn't for a book challenge' category.  The latter wasn't bad . . . it was much better than her previous collection, The Love Song of Laura Ingalls Wilder, but it was a tad too confessional for my taste.  Some interesting lines and provocative metaphors centring on endings (relationships/lives) and using the pedestrian details of the daily grind as grist for the metaphor mill. She is rather deft at juxtaposing the vulgar with the elegiac and mixing the erotic with the domestic. I was, as usual, impressed with McCartney's ability to deliver emotion, but less drawn into the collection as a whole than I would have liked.

As for The Cellist of Sarajevo . . . well, you already know I wasn't an enthused reader of this novel.  And I don't like giving negative reviews  . . . so, I'll just say that, for me, it failed to live up to the hype.  I was disappointed by the story that circled around the three primary characters (this kind of story has been oft tried -- isolated strugglers in a life-threatening, war-torn environment-- and it's been better told), the characters failed to come to life, and, ultimately, I was disappointed by what felt like a tacked on (and familiar) moral about courage and humanity in the midst of the unthinkable realities of senseless fighting.  I thought the most interesting aspect, the adagio-playing cellist, should have been more than just a symbol of the importance of art in chaos.  It felt hasty, somehow, like a short story arbitrarily extended.

But onward to the next reads. I'm going to give another Guy Gavriel Kay novel a try for next month's Canadian Book read. I'm looking forward to sinking my imagination into Tigana.  I'm also planning on giving Tonja Gunvaldsen-Klaassen's Lean-To a go as well.  Hopefully more satisfying reading ahead . . . 

*Note: Thanks to Goose Lane for the review copy!

And Then He Wrote Something Incredibly Stupid . . . .

I came across this link to an article about the most overrated American writers via Stefanie at So Many Books and I was pleasantly surprised by the somewhat overgeneralized but not altogether inaccurate assessment in the second and third paragraphs of the article:

It's difficult to know today because we no longer have major critics with wide reach . . . to separate the gold from the sand. Since the onset of poststructuralist theory, humanist critics have been put to pasture. The academy is ruled by "theorists" who consider their work superior to the literature they deconstruct, and moreover they have no interest in contemporary literature. As for the reviewing establishment, it is no more than the blurbing arm for conglomerate publishing, offering unanalytical "reviews" announcing that the emperor is wearing clothes.

The ascent of creative writing programs means that few with critical ability have any incentive to rock the boat--awards and jobs may be held back in retaliation. The writing programs embody a philosophy of neutered multiculturalism/political correctness; as long as writers play by the rules (no threatening history or politics), there's no incentive to call them out. (A politically fecund multiculturalism--very desirable in this time of xenophobia--is the farthest thing from the minds of the official arbiters: such writing would be deemed "dangerous," and never have a chance against the mediocrities.)

Hmm, I said to myself . . . and then I read on. "Others hide behind a smokescreen of unreadable inimitability--Marilynne Robinson, for example--to maintain a necessary barrier between the masses and the overlords."  "Unreadable inimitability"?!?!? "hide behind"?!?!? In the words of the oft-apt Charlie Brown, good grief!


And his arbitrary designations for good and bad writing gave me pause. "If we don't understand bad writing, we can't understand good writing." I tend to disagree. Good writing is. Bad writing is obviously not. And, as Mr. Inkslinger is wont to point out, isn't showboating narcissism the (unintentional) legacy of modernism and postmodernism?


Then the list itself.  Well (to paraphrase Elizabeth Bennet), one can't be always badmouthing without coming across something just . . .  and he hits upon some sad truths. But he also misses. Billy Collins?? Really? It makes me wonder whether it's a matter of critic heal thyself.


I'm interested in reading his upcoming lists, though.  And thinking of my own lists of underrateds and overrateds. We all have them . . .

Taking Stock

There's nothing like a prospective move to create an overwhelming conviction that one has too much stuff.  Even, dare I say it, too many books?  Sorting through leaning towers of TBR books, sifting shelves of embarrassingly dusty tomes that have not been touched since last move (though, I hasten to add, they have actually been dusted since then . . . just not recently enough), staring blankly at books that I don't remember buying (or reading).  All signs that the library needs updating (again). . . and is, possibly, just too large (again).  So, no time like the present to solve a surfeit.  Which books are essential? Which books can one not leave home for home without? And which books really need to be donated to another library? 

That is my mission for the next couple of weeks . . . sorting, taking stock, drawing a firm line* . . . but I can already tell my book-addict self is going to be a tough sell for the 'do we REALLY need it' approach . . .

Responsible self: "Yes, I know it's a book and a book is a book, but if you haven't read it in ten years what are the chances you're going to do so now?" 

Book-addict self: "Sacrilege! Can there be a time limit on the potential reading of a book? No, I didn't think so!"

Of course, the end result might be profitable. Mr. Inkslinger suspects we have enough stock to open a small used bookstore. :)

* Note: that said, I do have an armful of titles I need to order . . . really I do! There's the next Mary Russell instalment, the new Jane Urquhart, Absence of Mind by Marilynne Robinson, The Red and the Green by Iris Murdoch, Excellent Women by Barbara Pym (I've still to read some Pym!!) . . . I think the book-addict side may be winning the day.

Concentrating has been a challenge this past week.  The ever present undercurrent of 'when will we know'? and 'how soon is too soon to start lamenting or celebrating?' dogs our days (I'm a very, very impatient person and this just feels like torture :).  Having found a modest little home we can love, waiting to find out if we are, indeed, going to own it has been stressful. . . and we still don't know for sure.  The process seems unbelievably sluggish.

So I attempt to divert my anxious thoughts.  Usually unsuccessfully.  But there have been a handful of exciting reads to take my mind off things and put it where it should be anyway . . . in the world of ideas and the imagination (both being, as you already know, the stuff of which reality is made).

Firstly, I should ramble a bit about why I loved The Sea, The Sea so much.  The setting is both lovely and spooky, for a start, with emotionally-laden vistas (thanks to our narrator) and odd sightings (again, our narrator, and his penchant for seeing sea serpents), the characters quirky and fully realized, the writing  absorbing . . . all ingredients for a fascinating time between the covers.  Sex, sexuality, and relationships are at the centre of this tale, but, ultimately, it is the soul of our narrator (if one may use the word in this context) that is at risk.  And not for the reasons one might expect. The morality operating in the story is complex (and, thereby, feels authentic) and I found my reason as engaged as my imagination. 

While Charles Arrowby, our narrator, isn't particularly endearing, one does get rather tense for and about him.  Such is the skill of the writer, I suppose.  The story itself is a meandering aside from his original intention, which was a memoir about his time with a famous, older actress.  A memoir from a self-centred theatre director evolves into, initially, daily doings at his new home beside the sea and then quickly morphs into an account of what happens when he runs into his one and only love who happens to be married and living nearby.  By times frightening, vexing, intriguing, moving, and suspenseful, it's one of those highly acclaimed books that definitely, for me, lives up to the acclaim.

Secondly, reading Kipling's Kim while reading Laurie R. King's The Game was so much fun.  The character, Kimball O'Hara, whose disappearance is the impetus for the Holmes/Russell trip to India, is fascinating in both . . . and it was such fun to have the whole canvas spread out in my imagination.  King can certainly hold her own with the classics she invokes.

  

The Game ended up being my favourite Russell novel so far (always excepting the first in the series).  Just a great story wrapped around consistently great characters.   We follow Holmes and Russell as they become travelling magicians in northern India, searching for the missing O'Hara and running into a mesmerizing maharajah, a stoic communist, a flighty socialite, and a whole bevvy of equally disparate and interesting people.  Outshining them all, though, are Holmes and Russell themselves.  Their ability to fascinate never seems to waver. It's not so much that one watches them develop as one feels like one is watching them slowly unveil more aspects of who they've been all along.  Solid not static characters.  

Interesting, too, is Mary Russell's ongoing ability to disguise herself as either a male or a female.  This affords her some rare insights, and it's also a timely talent . . . what with all the talk about the androgyny of the mind going on during that period between the two wars (I'm thinking, especially, of Woolf here).  Some interesting questions come up about what a woman is or isn't capable of, and many of them are answered by Russell being more than capable of just about anything.

I wonder what will happen next?  I can't wait to begin Locked Rooms, but wait I must because I don't have a copy of it yet.

In the meantime, I'm still working my way through Dan Simmons' Drood (which isn't holding my attention much at the moment), George Eliot's Romola (which took a back seat while I indulged in some Murdoch, Kipling, and King), and I've just reached the middle of Steven Galloway's The Cellist of Sarajevo (which, alas, is also not really holding my attention at the moment). I'm reading the latter for the Canadian Book Challenge . . . and I'm hoping my opinion of the novel will improve as I read on.

Update:  Unfortunately, my opinion of The Cellist of Sarajevo did not improve as I read on.  I finished it last night in a bout of sleeplessness and was generally underwhelmed.  I thought it had its moments, but . . . *sigh*  

Update, Part Two:  Looks like the house-buying adventure is inching towards a successful conclusion.  We've been told to start packing . . . in a good way.  Here's hoping! 

If I had time I would ramble on about how much I loved The Sea, The Sea by Iris Murdoch (despite the creepy and/or annoying and/or possibly mad, but strangely human narrator.  Really great read! . . . Murdoch's going on my must-read-everything-by-this-author list.  And, of course, as if oft-noted, one can definitely see bits of Murdoch in Byatt's writing . . . which is another reason to like both).  But, alas, non-blogging life is encroaching (a bit of house business) and I must wait for another day to revel in the ramble.  

Until then,  one of the few quotes that I can wholeheartedly get behind from the untrustworthy but nonetheless intriguing narrator of the aforementioned:

One of the secrets of a happy life is continuous small treats, and if some of these can be inexpensive and quickly procured so much the better.

I know he's not referring to either a library or a bookstore, but if the shoe fits . . .

Currently and Recently Again . . .

 . . . Waiting To Find Out: Mr. Inkslinger and I are in a state of anxious anticipation while we wait to find out whether or not we will be acquiring a house the end of this month (we've been looking for a year . . . it's not always easy to find something pleasant and affordable).*

 . . . Watched: what Mr. Inkslinger deemed a good premise wasted on a lot of unnecessary twists and turns . . . i.e. Shutter Island.  

. . .  Read:  The Return of Sherlock Holmes.  What fun this read-through of Holmes!  And we even managed to get in a couple of Holmes films starring Basil Rathbone (who consistently reminds me of Mark Strong, for some reason . . . or should that be the other way around?).

. . . Reading:  I'm still reading The Game by Laurie R King, but paused a little to take in Kim by Rudyard Kipling.  Kim is part of the King novel and, not having read the Kipling novel before, I decided to pause and read the latter before getting back into the former.  I love it when novels lead you to other novels!


And I'm still reading The Sea, The Sea by Iris Murdoch and, not surprisingly, finding the narrator rather creepy. Such great writing though!

 . . . Anticipating:  fresh raspberry coulis over dark chocolate and ice cream. 

And here's a bit from that Rathbone film (hilarious Holmes moment): 




*Side note: Posting might be rather sporadic for the next little while.