I was going to post some of my thoughts while reading Barbara Pym's A Glass of Blessings (which is such a good read), but I just finished reading this post at My Porch and can't think of anything more important than sharing a link to it. 

Even though it was a slightly frustrating beginning to the week (computer decided to stop working whenever it got bored . . . which, it seems, was quite often), complete with rain-soaked days and an irritable cat (she's still adjusting to the move and not liking the three levels much . . . she's always lived on just one level at a time), it's also been a week filled with interesting reading and fascinating watching.

Firstly, the interesting reading:  You comma Idiot by Doug Harris.  A testosterone-centred novel, I must say, but one with such a well-drawn protagonist that it pulls one in despite it all.  The ending disappointed a tad (felt a bit like a beer commercial, I thought), but its tone was in keeping with the comedic approach of the narrative as a whole (which, in other, less skilled, hands may have come across as some seedy melodrama) so I suppose one could argue that it was a fitting ending after all.  

The novel --  told in second person, which is both unusual and very risky, but Harris pulls it off -- follows twenty-eight year old Lee Goodstone as he goes about his life of dealing and loafing. During the course of a very trying period in his life, when he is, paradoxically, the happiest he has ever been (or so he thinks), he loses just about everything in one long, inevitable slide.  But the novel is funny, satirical, and savvy, never feels heavy-handed and, with the possible exception of the very end, never felt inauthentic. 

This isn't my normal reading, but I'm so glad I gave it a try *  because it ended up being highly engrossing and fun to read.  

Secondly, the watching:  Mr. Inkslinger and I caught Masterpiece Mystery on Sunday night and we were both favourably surprised by how good the new Sherlock Holmes series is.  I was reluctant to watch it as I thought it held little appeal for me. A contemporary Sherlock? With cell phones and computers? Please!  But how wrong I was. Benedict Cumberbatch was absolutely terrific as Sherlock and Martin Freeman (who plays Watson) was, well, Martin Freeman (which means, of course, consistent brilliance).  Funny, smart, fast- but evenly paced. Loved it!!

* Much thanks to Goose Lane for sending along a review copy!

Top Ten Fictional Crushes? I'm All Over This!

It's not Tuesday anymore, and I don't normally participate in weekly meme postings, but this one caught my attention (via Bibliophiliac):  Top Ten Fictional Crushes.  It's just so enjoyable spending some time thinking about this topic . . .

Here's my list (which is, inevitably, a list-in-flux):

1.  Shakespeare's Hamlet.  Sure he's a little angsty and it's true . . . he does have some mother issues. But he's got intellectual and poetic appeal to spare.

2.  Roland Michell from Byatt's Possession.  Such a bad boy, stealing a primary document from the London Library. And it's kind of endearing how emotionally clumsy he is. 

3.  John, that sexy moor-edger from Urquhart's Changing Heaven.  He sure can tell a story, and he knows how to pick up the pieces of a shattered inner puzzle. Can't beat that.

4. Lord Randolph from Pamela Dean's Secret Country trilogy.  Like Hamlet, he's intense and brilliant and harshly self-deprecating.  All of which I seem to find attractive.

5.  Mr. Rochester from Jane Eyre.  Vulcan-like? Check. Byronic hero without the predilection for incest? Check. Desperately in love with the woman of his choice and willing to defy just about anyone to be with her? Check.  What's not to like? (Though living with him would take some fortitude. Good thing he's mostly an invalid by the time Jane has to housebreak him.)

6.  Gilbert Blythe from L.M. Montgomery's Anne series.  This is definitely a nostalgic crush.  When I was a youngster, I wanted nothing more than to grow up to be exactly like Anne and marry someone exactly like Gilbert.

7.  Konstantin Levin from Anna Karenina.  He's just so . . . everything! *sigh*

8.  Sherlock Holmes.  Particularly Laurie King's version.  There's just something intriguing about a benign genius.

9.  Ethan Frome from Edith Wharton's novella of the same name.  Another tragic dreamer type . . . there may be an unsettling pattern developing with this list. :)

10.  Just about every Jane Austen hero.  Particularly Mr. Darcy (I know, how typical) from Pride and Prejudice and Captain Wentworth from Persuasion..

Poetry Shore

Just the stormy kind of view that inspires poetry (either for reading or writing) . . . 

The Sea and the Skylark by Gerard Manley Hopkins

On ear and ear two noises too old to end
Trench—right, the tide that ramps against the shore;
With a flood or a fall, low lull-off or all roar,
Frequenting there while moon shall wear and wend.

Left hand, off land, I hear the lark ascend,
His rash-fresh re-winded new-skeinèd score
In crisps of curl off wild winch whirl, and pour
And pelt music, till none ’s to spill nor spend.

How these two shame this shallow and frail town!
How ring right out our sordid turbid time,
Being pure! We, life’s pride and cared-for crown,

Have lost that cheer and charm of earth’s past prime:
Our make and making break, are breaking, down
To man’s last dust, drain fast towards man’s first slime.

It's not as if I needed any more books to read right now.  I'm in the midst of making my way through some good reads from the TBR shelf, but Mr. Inkslinger decided on a trip to the library . . . and how could I not go with him? And, once there, how could I not bring home a book?  

I chose to go with a Barbara Pym.  I haven't read any Pym and though this isn't the one I'd intended on reading first  (i.e. any of the ones recommended as good to try first), I thought I'd give it a go as it was the one there:

A Glass of Blessings is, evidently,  about a married woman whose eye takes to wandering.  And it's interesting so far.  Told in the first person (which can go either way), the narrative voice is, fortunately, more engaging than not (and how can you go wrong with a title taken from a Herbert poem?!).

And regarding the ongoing read through my TBR shelves . . .

~~ I've recently completed the beautifully written Curiosity: A Love Story by Joan Thomas (longer, more detailed post in the works).  Even better than her first novel Reading by Lightning!

~~ I made my way through another children's book, The Bobsey Twins in the Country.  I decided to try a Bobsey book as I remembered those I read in my childhood with such fondness.  I'd not read this particular instalment before, though, and I can't help but wonder if all of the stories contained this number of ethnic and gender stereotypes (some of the authorial asides are really rather appalling) and, if so, how did I miss them? . . . I certainly hadn't remembered anything like that from my childhood reading.  I recalled the Bobseys as representing a very generous, good-hearted approach to life (and that was still evident in everything but the rigid gender roles and deluded ethnic assumptions/depictions). Perhaps the reissues have cleared out all of the objectionable bits?

~~ And I've just finished the last instalment in Catherine Graham's trilogy, Winterkill.  Some good lines, interesting imagery employed.  Overall, though, I'm not sure I liked it as well as the second in the trilogy, The Red Element.  I'm still musing on it and will probably post a longer review later.

I'm still in the midst of organizing our own library here at the new house, too.  I'm going with country (of author) and chronology as loose organizing categories again, but it's always a bit tricky as Mr. Inkslinger has more than a few category-defying tomes (just as he should! :).  And every time I'm organizing or reorganizing our library I keep coming across books that I either want to read again or realize I've not read yet and I stop and take a long look.  So it's a time-consuming, thoroughly enjoyable enterprise. 

 

I love Lisbeth Salander.  I really do. I wouldn't personally do much of what she does and I may not agree with her opinions at times, but that doesn't stop me from just loving this character. How did Larsson do that? Create a character who is totally antisocial, rather disturbing in many ways (her tendency towards violence and revenge, for example), and make her completely engaging? Whatever else one can say about his novels, he certainly knew how to create fascinating characters. Especially Salander.  (And one can probably count on one hand the number of male writers who have created truly authentic female characters.)  

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is, by and large, a captivating read.  I'm not going to find much fault with a novel that, on the one hand, vilifies crimes against women while, on the other hand, avoids depicting that terrible stereotype: woman-as-victim.  Kudos for that, in my opinion.  But it's also a suspenseful, involved tale that works several threads at the same time. Are all equally captivating? Um, nope.  But each is captivating enough. (And that's my main criticism, ultimately. It felt like the novel was tackling a bit too much all at once, at times, but it wasn't enough of a distraction to warrant much grumbling on my part. )

The novel (if you haven't already read it) revolves around Mikael Blomkvist, professionally embarrassed journalist, and Lisbeth Salander, investigator extraordinaire.  They come together haphazardly when both find themselves working for Henrik Vanger, a wealthy, retired  businessman who has become obsessed with the disappearance of Harriet Vanger.  Vanger wants Blomkvist to find out what happened to Harriet, what caused her disappearance in the 60s. Seems straightforward enough.  But it isn't.  This is a morally complex story that has me pondering days later.  


Choice is certainly an important factor behind all the action that takes place in this narrative.  What the characters choose to do and why.  Choice is everything.  But it can't keep the unforeseen from overtaking the them. And I like that Larsson points out the responsibilities of journalists, highlights the ethics needed, takes a stab or two at some of the more dangerous (yet widely accepted) aspects of contemporary society.  All in all, this book grabbed me.  I'm hoping the other two in the series are just as good.


Last night, in fact, I was suffering from Larsson withdrawal (having finished the novel the evening before) and was slightly mollified by unexpectedly catching Wallander on PBS (though, after realizing I'd caught the end of Series II and had missed the first two of this series, the mollification was slight indeed).  I haven't read any of the novels the series is based upon . . . I'm kind of curious about them now.  More Swedish detective fiction lies in my future, I believe.

"The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater."  J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring.

Angels and Tattoos

I was hooked from the first paragraph of Nicola Upson's Angel With Two Faces.  The opening line: "The horse hit the water at a gallop, fracturing the early morning peace which hung about the lake."  Now, really, isn't that just a great way to begin a mystery?  I thought so too.  And it just gets better, more complex, more disturbing (and even moving) from there.

The story begins with the death of Harry Pinching from a riding accident.  Archie Penrose (Scotland Yard inspector), whose family estate is at the centre of things, is meant to be taking it easy in Cornwall with Josephine Tey (fictional version of the writer extraordinaire), but they are both drawn into the mysteries surrounding the accident.  All is not what it seems. At all.  Secrets, scandals, sexual taboos and sexual confusion . . . the novel is crammed with revelations, moral quandaries, and tragedy.  It's a nail biter.

Harry Pinching's sisters, Morwenna and Loveday are intriguing, and the curate is an interesting puzzle.  The relationship between Archie and Josephine develops . . . it's a fascinating novel about love, in the end.  The boundaries and transgressions of love, the misunderstandings and forgiveness.

The setting is probably the best aspect of the novel, when all is said and done.  I enjoyed the mystery, but I absolutely loved the Cornish setting.  And Upson knows how to bring the landscape to life, simply and effectively.

There.  Catch-up post number two accomplished. :)

I'm in the midst of another mystery read at the moment:  The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson.  As usual, I didn't immediately get on the Larsson bandwagon (too much hype), but I eventually downloaded a copy of the first in the series to my Kindle reader.  I have to say I'm liking this novel quite a bit.   I've not read too far into the mystery itself yet, but the characters of Blomkvist and Salander are definitely holding my attention.

I finished reading it a couple of months ago and have been stymied as to how to describe it other than, well, as one of the best works of literary fiction to come out of Canada in years. I know that's a big claim, but there it is.




George Fetherling's recent novel Walt Whitman's Secret is a surprise of a book. Written in an authentic-sounding 19th century voice for much of the time, the narrative is uniquely paced for a contemporary effort. The work is subtle, complex, and sometimes deceptively passive.  It builds slow, and it breaks, when it breaks, with an avalanche-like effect.

Walt Whitman's last days are not the centre of this novel, but they are the reader's inroad to the narrative, his past, his loves and obsessions, as well as the characters who inhabit his last days and those who inhabit his memory. Whitman is befriended and aided by a young couple, Horace Traubel and his wife Anne. Horace acts as a kind of informal secretary, organizing and promoting Whitman's poetry as his life winds down. Anne is something else.  

Historically, the Traubels did live and know Whitman, and Fetherling makes use of the exhaustive works by Traubel on the subject, but he chooses not to be hampered by them. This is fiction, not biography. Fetherling's narrative is organized around a fictional letter/memoir from Horace to the Canadian Flora MacDonald (spiritualist and Whitman devotee) and is punctuated by more immediate, omniscient asides that take us out of Traubel's often claustrophobic first person reminiscences.

What Traubel lacks in charisma, however, Fetherling more than makes up for in the subtlety of his prose.  This is a novel that manipulates tone and mood to perfection.  And Traubel ends up telling us more than he intends.   



Subversive, brilliant, this is a novel that should top the award lists. At any rate, it's an engrossing read!

A Happy Thanksgiving To All (Canadian Or Not)

Having spent so many of my formative years in the U.S., it was a little strange to return to Canada and start celebrating Thanksgiving a month and a half early (or so it felt at the time), but I've since become accustomed to it and now revel in the warm, family traditions accompanied by those flame-like autumn colours.  

This year we welcomed family to our new home for Thanksgiving dinner! . . . There may have been fewer home-cooked dishes than in years past, but the laughter and love made up for it. 

And we capped off the celebrations with a walk in a nearby park

(there was an especially bright and friendly female mallard who looked like she was about to say something quite brilliant for a few crumbs).

 As for the catch-up posting . . . well, I've made a list (does that count?):

1.  A gushy kind of post in which Darkmans is oohed and awed over (and Juxtabook is praised for her recommendation of same).

2.  Quasi-intelligent attempts to point out the attributes of Triny Finlay's Histories Haunt Us, Nicola Upson's Angel With Two Faces, and the oft-lauded-at-Overdecorated-Bookcase-yet-still-not-reviewed Walt Whitman's Secret.

3. Rambling posts about how much I am enjoying my current reads. For example,I must go on and on about Joan Thomas's Curiosity: A Novel . . .

But all of that will have to wait because Mr. Inkslinger and I are off to catch a movie and enjoy some Thanksgiving ice cream! 

Internet At Last! And A Porcupine

Now that the office and library are shaping up in our new house it's beginning to feel like home.  And having Internet access at last doesn't hurt either . . . I've been in book blog withdrawal.

Before I organize my thoughts for some catch-up posting, I had to share this cute little creature . . . a recent hike with my sister occasioned an encounter with a fox, a couple of porcupines (including this one), and a very friendly, terribly perky chickadee.