Book Chase

Poor Sam Houston! Blogger has locked him out of his blog. As if that wasn't bad enough, they called him a spammer! To heap even more insult on top of injury, they said that Book Chase will be DELETED in 20 days! The turd on top of this less-than-appetizing banana split is that a software program, a damn robot is doing all of this!
>:<
Since I read and enjoy Sam's blog every day, this is an unfair hardship. If I were Sam, I wouldn't take this lying down; he should light out for the territory, i.e., Wordpress or some other place that knows how to treat a gentleman and a scholar. Please express any sympathy and/or advice in my comment section. Thanks.

Self-Consciousness - John Updike

Bibliolatry asked me a couple of weeks ago about my impressions of this memoir. I'm having a devil of a time getting a coherent review together, so below is an attempt to organize my thoughts. It's just notes, though. Sorry.

Although I'm an Updike fan, I can't help but laugh and shake my head at what Florence King once wrote about him: Reading John Updike reminds me of Herman Melville and Jane Austen; it's like trying to cut through whale blubber with a pair of embroidery scissors.

Who? John Updike
What? Self-Consciousness: A Memoir
Where? Various places. Mostly Pennsylvania, where he spent his childhood and Massachusetts, where he spent most of his 30s and 40s. But mostly John Updike is his own setting.
When? This book was written in the mid-1980s when Updike was about 55.
Why? Updike heard that someone wanted to interview him so they could begin writing his biography. He was appalled at the idea of someone else handling his life, so he took on the project himself.
How? Updike wrote a memoir in the form of 6 semi-connected essays.

The essays:
1. "A Spring Night In Shillington". Updike loses his luggage when travelling to his hometown. He dispatches his family to the movies and walks around the town while waiting for it to be brought to him. He has to wait almost the entire length of the movie (Being There) and describes every building, every streetlamp, every crack in the sidewalk -- not only as it is now but as he remembers it growing up during the 1930s and 40s. Too much detail. Zzzzz. I was almost as glad as he when the luggage person arrived.

2. "At War With My Skin". From childhood, Updike suffered from psoriasis, which he inherited from his mother. He details his embarrassment over its unwelcome presence in the wintertime, and his relief when he could battle it with the help of the sun during the summer months. As he became a literary success and began making money, he could go to the Caribbean during the winter months and sunbathe. (I wonder if he's heard of Dr. Fish?) He ruminates on how this chronic condition helped to shape him into a writer. This is far and away the best essay in the book.

3. "Getting The Words Out." Updike also has a slight stammer that appears when he's nervous or stressed. Of course he also discusses how this shaped him as a writer. Other than that, I don't remember much about this essay.

4. "On Not Being A Dove". Updike discusses his slightly hawkish stance during Vietnam AND his dreaded and extensive dental work. The Vietnam part goes on way too long, which makes the dental part a relief to read. Still, it's a jarring combination that seems to clunk along. With impish good humor he pulls it all together in the last paragraph, but it feels like too little, too late.

5. "A Letter To My Grandsons". This begins interestingly, because his grandsons have a white mother from the United States (Updike's daughter) and a black father from Africa, and Updike touches on some of the cultural differences between these boys' two families. Then he meanders into his own family genealogy and seems mired there. Zzzzzzz. The best part of the essay is when he discusses a 1909 photo of the extended Updike clan, which is included at the front of the book.

6. "On Being A Self Forever". Updike is back in Shillington, visiting his mother again. It's like a bookend essay for the first one, except much more introspective. He discusses ageing quite a bit, both his mother's and his own. Much rumination about religion. Updike was brought up as a Lutheran, and married a woman whose father was a Unitarian minister. He seems crazy about Emerson, but with a strangely grim and deterministic humor that I associate with Lutheranism (perhaps unfairly) threaded throughout. Updike seems to believe -- or determined to believe -- in God because he feels that God is for people with imagination, which of course he prizes highly. In his view, atheism lacks this quality. [Edited to add: I enjoyed the part of the essay in which Updike muses that we shouldn't be afraid of death because we're changing all the time and the people we were in the past are, in effect, dead. He also talks about having favorites and unfavorites among your past selves, which was fun and whimsical.]

Recommendation: For hardcore Updike fans and Updike scholars. For others, check out Self-Consciousness from the library and read "At War With My Skin".

As far as the fiction goes, read the "Rabbit Quartet" for a neat time-capsule look at life in America in 1959, 1969, 1979 and 1989, and also for a compelling but often unsparing look at Harry "Rabbit" Angstrom, a man who hit his zenith as a high school basketball star and grew older and older but never really grew up.

The Tale Of Despereaux

Book Zombie and Care want to know: What made you choose this book now?

The Tale Of Despereaux is the book we're reading for the August 10th BOOKLEAVES meeting. (If you just happen to be in Seoul, you can go with me! Leave a comment.) TOD was suggested by a new member who said it was "the book" when he subbed at a middle school in the United States a couple of years ago.

Book Zombie wants the 6 word review: Plucky little mouse saves the day.

Jennie and Book Chronicle both want to know: Does this book live up to the hype?

It's obvious why teachers, children's librarians and parents have embraced this book. It's a wholesome tale of adventure with a misunderstood, yet noble animal protagonist. There is some darkness, but it's served up in a benign enough fashion along with a few new vocabulary words. Also attractive to these educator types is a narrator who is constantly engaging readers and encouraging them to use those higher level thinking skills to ponder the action. The ending is wrapped up neatly, sweetly and inoffensively with a whiff of a moral. Sometimes I think DiCamillo is guilty of trying too hard to please this adult set.

Melissa and Tiny Little Librarian want to know if I found the book compelling or annoying. And what about that narration?

I'd really love to test-drive The Tale Of Despereaux with someone between the ages of 7 and 12, so I could get some badly needed input. The storyline is charming, if a little awkwardly told, but the narrator constantly talking to the reader gives the book a claustrophobic feel -- it's like someone is right in your face chattering while you're trying to build images in your mind. Also perhaps there was a little too much telling rather than showing. What really annoyed me was that DiCamillo makes such a big production of trotting out a new vocabulary word, then discussing it. She even tells the reader to go look up a word in the dictionary. At that point, the reek of teacher breath was overpowering; I muttered a two-word imperative that you'll never see in a children's book and would have me missing recess for a month. E.B. White knew that you didn't have to attach a bunch of bells and whistles to new vocabulary. Just serve it up like a tennis ball and most of the time, kids will deftly smash it right back over the net at top speed.

Book Chronicle wants to know: Where do you think this fits with the history of children's literature?

Since The Tale Of Despereaux won the Newbery, it has been assured a place in children's lit history, and if the movie is well-made and commercially successful, it will solidify the book's good reputation and help it to stay popular for many years.

Tasses asks: Have you seen or read Because Of Winn-Dixie [also by Kate DiCamillo]?

No, but I'm curious about it now. The book, that is. My son told me that the movie blows chunks. (Or some sort of lofty film criticism to that effect.)

Karin asks: With the movie coming out soon, do you think The Tale Of Despereaux will transfer to the big screen while keeping the quality of the story?

Unless the people in charge of the movie version are total morons, there's no reason why this couldn't be a warm and enjoyable family movie. They've actually got an excellent opportunity to improve on the book by trimming down the narration.

Tete-A-Tete

Way back in 1929, two young philosophy students named Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir became attracted to one another. Sartre explained that personal freedom was really important for him, but so were relationships. He and Beauvoir made a pact at the ripe old ages of 21 and 24 to never marry and to always have an open relationship. Amazingly, they kept this pact all their lives, until Sartre's death in 1980. Tete A Tete is the complete history of that relationship, complications and all.

Maree: I'm intrigued by Tete A Tete despite not knowing much about Sartre or Beauvoir. Is this book a good introduction?

You would not be intellectually intimidated by reading this portrait of the two, so maybe it is a good introduction. Their work and philosophies are discussed in varying degrees throughout the book. Some years, biographer Hazel Rowley neatly summarizes what they're working on, and in other years, especially in the 1960s when Sartre was having a change of heart about communism, it becomes more front-burner material. The bulk of the book is about their love relationships with each other and other people. Personally, I would've liked a little more balance.

Book Zombie: What one thing made you read this book? What six words come to your mind?

I found this biography last summer when I was in the US, and it sat on my TBR for a few months until I decided to include it as one of my reads for the In Their Shoes challenge.

Six word review? Philosophers in love -- so typically French.

Bookfool: How is it?

Bookfool, I really don't think it would be your cup of bouillabaisse because of the extreme emphasis on who's doing it with who. Not only Sartre and Beauvoir, but there were also many lengthy discussions of who their lovers and mistresses would hook up with when they decided to stray.

Dewey: Is it worth the wait? For whom do you feel more sympathy, Sartre or Beauvoir? Are there letters in the book, or is it all narrative?

I felt a little let down, although I'm a sucker for literary gossip. My interest was piqued when Beauvoir went to America and began a love affair with novelist Nelson Algren, whose impatience with Sartre and Beauvoir's set-up was a breath of fresh air in this often claustrophobic study of their lives. For whom did I feel more sympathy? Most of the time I was irritated with both of them, but in the earlier years, I felt sorry for Beauvoir because she seemed so alone while Sartre was either off at war or knee-deep in mistresses. Later on, I felt sorry for Sartre because he comes off as such an absurd figure. His blueprint for the relationship created a backlash for him -- to the end of his life, he supported a huge cast of past and present mistresses who were all jealous as hell of each other. He spent a lot of energy lying to them all. (I kept thinking of No Exit: "Hell is other people.") Beauvoir's style was to have one lover at a time for several years, although she would drop everything for Sartre, no matter who she was involved with. She comes across more serious-minded, more dedicated to the relationship. The narrative is strong, but there are many letters in the book, most of them from Beauvoir. Sartre's literary executor, (a young woman he bonked and then later "adopted) is not being extremely cooperative with biographers, whereas the young woman Beauvoir adopted (and maybe bonked) was the soul of generosity to Rowley.

Jennie: Is this a serious scholarly work? Or just gossip?

I would never call Tete A Tete a scholarly work, but it's not exactly low tabloid fodder, either, although most of the terrific photos are of Sartre and Beauvoir and their lovers. There's a great shot of Beauvoir standing naked in a bathroom at the sink. She was gorgeous. No pics of Sartre naked, though. Rowley describes him as short, pudgy and wall-eyed. Perhaps it's just as well.

Weekly Geeks #12: Ask Me About My Books

Hooray! I won Free Food For Millionaires by Min Jin Lee in last week's Weekly Geeks giveaway! Thanks, Dewey! I feel a little embarrassed that my desire for the book and my wish to win was so nakedly obvious, but that embarrassment will probably fade without a trace as soon as the book lands in my mailbox.

This week's geekish task is to get some buzz going about each other's books:

1. In your blog, list any books you've read but haven't reviewed yet. If you're all caught up on reviews, maybe you could try this with whatever books you finish this week.

2. As your readers to ask you questions about any of the books in your comments. Most likely, people who will ask questions will be people who have read one of the books or know something about it because they want to read it.

3. Later, take whichever questions you want from these comments and use them in a post about each book. (Dewey suggested an "interview-review"). Link to each blogger whose question you used.

4. Visit other Weekly Geeks and ask them questions.

As usual, I'm behind on reviews, and always have a little trouble getting started with them, so this will help me with procrastination and self-discipline issues. At the same time, as I visit other bookish blogs, the Biblio-Barbarian inside me can run wild, licking her lips wolfishly at lists and lists and LISTS AND LISTS of books and asking questions about everything that catches her tawny eye! Whoooo-hooo!

Okay, here's a list of books I haven't reviewed yet. (Actually, I sort of reviewed The Executioner's Song, but I was much more interested in seeing how clever I could be with a 6-word review. Mailer's novel deserves better than that, so fire away, if you'd like.)

The Executioner's Song - Norman Mailer

The Bone People - Keri Hulme

The Tale Of Despereux - Kate DiCamillo

Self-Consciousness - John Updike

Tete A Tete: The Tumultuous Lives & Loves Of Jean-Paul Sartre & Simone de Beauvoir - Hazel Rowley.

Fifth Business - Robertson Davies

Yo, Geeks! I'll be over to visit your blogs soon! If, in my eagerness, I blunder through the front gate without unlatching it, trample your petunias, rumple the cushions on the chaise-lounge, spill your iced tea or forget to wipe my feet -- it's not me. Blame my Biblio-Barbarian.

Unless - Carol Shields

This is my second book for The 2nd Canadian Book Challenge, Eh?

Carol Shields' final novel, Unless is about a 44-year-old writer and translator, Reta Winters, whose oldest daughter suddenly and inexplicably drops out of college and life in general to panhandle on a street corner in Toronto with a cardboard sign around her neck that reads "Goodness".

As Reta tries to carry on as normally as possible during this crisis, (taking care of her family, writing a second novel, and helping her mentor, a famous French writer who seems to be a cross between Simone de Beauvoir and Germaine Greer translate her memoirs) she is constantly trying to figure out what brought Norah to this point. Norah's father thinks it was one traumatic event. Reta is more of the "last straw" school of thought. What happened?

Unless reminds me a lot of a novel I read earlier this year, How To Be Good. It would be interesting to read and compare these two novels side-by-side. Nick Hornby's novel bristles with wit and intelligence, as his characters grapple with how far you can take "goodness" in your everyday life and still live reasonably.

.

The subject of goodness has a more serious tone than in Hornby's novel, but there's also humor in Shield's novel of a wryer sort, especially when her beloved editor dies and she has to deal with his replacement. The new editor betrays himself as a complete ass as he attempts to steamroll Reta with his own ideas about fiction writing and turn her into merely a mouthpiece. (A male author would have decked him, and I was rooting for Reta to do just that.) He's both absurd and pathetic because Reta has been giving an elegant and thoughtful commentary about the nature and craft of writing throughout the novel.

Unless was a satisfying read on many different levels. I highly recommend it, and I'm looking forward to reading two other Shields books that I've chosen for this challenge, Dressing Up For The Carnival and Larry's Party.

Weekly Geeks #11: Book Questions

Dewey's moving! I envy her. Every 3-4 years, I feel that I MUST move. I'm still hearing the rhythms of my childhood as a military brat. Anyway, Dewey needs help getting her books read, so she would like for her beloved geekish community to choose a book from her teetering pile and ask her three questions about it. If she chooses your questions, you could end up with that book, if it's hers to give away.

All of this makes me wild with antici...pation, because Dewey has a novel that I'm coveting to beat the band -- Free Food For Millionaires by Min Jin Lee. Love that title. Love the Korean connection. Now I've got to come up with dazzling questions. Ow. My brain hurts.

ㅅ

1. The protagonist of Free Food For Millionaires is a Korean-American. Is she part of the "one point five" generation, born in Korea then immigrated with her family at a young age, or is she a first generation American?

ㅊ

2. Have the protagonist's parents assimilated into American culture, or are they part of a strong Korean community that strives to hold onto their culture?

ㅔ

3. Does the whole novel take place in the United States, or is some of it set in Korea?

ㅎ

Wish me luck! Meanwhile, I'll continue to do my part by brainwashing myself into having a dream about a pig tonight, or sometime this week. (Pig dreams are really lucky -- unless a dog appears in the dream as well. A dog in your pig dream cancels your good luck.)

Fluff-O-Rama

I promised Susan I would do this meme, but it's harder than I thought. Hard to be fluffy...hmmm. She also has a movie list that looks yummy. It's really cool and a little scary how much we overlap regarding tastes in literature and cinema. She even has a snobbish inner bookworm who tortures her on a regular basis, and of course there's that lovely, lovely given name.

Okay -- I finally pulled 5 fluffy things out of my brain. Better that than the belly button, right?

1. I like really high-thread-count sheets. The Koreans don't know what they're missing. Their sheets feel like 50 thread count -- I was nearly scraped raw after a single night on them. I'm not joking; even my son complained about how rough they are. I have 3 sets of 400 thread count sheets over here. Speaking of the bed, I have 6 pillows of all shapes and sizes.

2. In years past, I didn't give a damn if my toenails were painted or not, but since coming to Korea, I really like it now. Mitzi gets the credit for this change of heart. Going way above and beyond the call of friendship duties, she's been instrumental in finding polish that matches my skin tone, and she's even applied it to my toes TWICE this year! Not only that, she attaches nail art that is simultaneously tasteful and bling. I haven't yet confessed to her that I once used Wite-Out with fairly good results. (Mitzi, I'm not a complete philistine; I was just trying to be cheap and innovative! Honest!)

3. I'm a slave to my roots! I would like to grow my hair out to its natural color, but I'm not exactly sure what percentage of that will be gray, since I haven't seen my real hair color since the early oh-ohs! Koreans are even more obsessed that we are about appearance, and I feel like I'll get an incredible amount of shit and get called Halmoni (Grandmother) at every turn.

4. I try to keep some form of chocolate in Dorm Sweet Dorm at all times. Right now, things are a little desperate; I'm down to a quarter-can of Swiss Miss.

5. I never met a cheese I didn't like. I'm thinking Wisconsin when I decide to repatriate.

Book Meme Bonanza!

I've been tagged for a lot of memes this week. I feel popular! I feel like Carrie at the prom! Trusting that there's no bucket suspended over my head, I'll begin:

Bibliolatrist tagged me for a six-word story. This was more difficult than I thought.

While packing, she fantasized about agoraphobia.

Ella at Box Of Books wants to know about readers' comfort zones.

What kind of a book are you most comfortable reading? Biographies. Especially ones about authors. Serve 'em up with a snack of jalapenos and popcorn and a large Coca-Cola with lots of ice and I'm a happy bookworm.

What kind of book do you love to hate? Something that is kind of touchy-feely and has a "deep" message and if I don't "get it", I'm either stupid, shallow or heartless.

What was the last book you surprised yourself by liking? The Oxford Murders. I don't like math or mysteries, but I found this novel enjoyable.

What was the last book you surprised yourself by disliking? The Book Of Proper Names. I thought that since it was a modern French novel, it would be cool, edgy and entertaining. Zero-for-three on that one!

What would be the worst book to be marooned on a desert island with? Maybe a biography of Dakota Fanning or Miley Cyrus?

What would you take if you suspected you might be marooned in the near future? I need to take Middlemarch since I'm due to read it again in 2009. I also might take a blank book.

What forces you to read outside your comfort zone? Guilt. Shame. Peer pressure. My Tough & Cool Inner Bookworm. The usual.

Just A Reading Fool has tagged me for a Best/Worst Classics Meme.

What is the best classic you were forced to read in school, and why? To Kill A Mockingbird. I read it during the 1975-1976 school year. This was during the time that we were celebrating (and celebrating and celebrating!) the bicentennial, and the nation was continuously congratulating itself for being so wonderful. TKAM made me realize how far we'd come in such a short time and also recognize how far we still had to go.

What is the worst classic you were forced to endure in school, and why? I'm not sure that I can answer this question fairly. I really hated Julius Caesar in 10th grade. This was my introduction to Shakespeare, and it almost put me off of him for good. Actually, I hated almost everything we read in 10th grade, but that could have been the teacher. Never before or since have I had an English teacher that could make books so unappetizing, even to me.

Which classic should every student be required to read, and why? Fahrenheit 451, Of Mice And Men and To Kill A Mockingbird. They're good stories, the language is easily accessible and have the potential for great class discussions.

Which classic should be put to rest immediately, and why? I'm hoping that teachers are no longer ga-ga over Portrait Of Jennie. A ghost story that's muddled nonsense that was probably written for a quick buck.

Why do you think certain books become classics? They become classics because they have characters, themes and ideas that readers of all ages can identify with, often on a visceral level.

Falling In Lit Love Again

Dearest Nick,

I still love you & when I see your rakish grin and your gorgeous bald head staring up at me from the book jacket or at some website, I still feel that literary thrill. My hands sweat, and the cover of whatever book of yours I'm holding gets all damp and puckery. Some of my most cherished memories include tearing through The Polysyllabic Spree and hunting like crazy for that magnifying glass as I vroomed through Housekeeping Vs. The Dirt. I even changed my soccer -- I mean football team for you! Furthermore, if/when you do a book tour of South Korea -- well, everyone is just damn well gonna have to understand as I chase you from Seoul to Busan and back again, knocking Koreans and foreigners alike out of my way.

What you should know is that I'm a woman who reads too much. My bookish needs are so many and varied that it's kind of embarrassing. I must have my fiction, my nonfiction and my reading challenges! The last one is what has landed me in trouble: Nick, I've fallen in love again. He's Canadian and he's dead, which means he'll never do a book tour here. If he were alive, I'd be so tempted to tear up my American passport at the border and happily live out the rest of my life in Ontario, freezing to death and waiting for that white-bearded visage to show up in public appearances and on the CBC.

Yes, Nick. I love Robertson Davies! We're both bookworms and adults, aren't we? If you've ever read Fifth Business, you'll know exactly what I'm talking about. I'm talking masterful storyteller. I'm talking dry wit, enjoyably dry, like the finest sherry. I'm talking a writing style that is so smooth, your eyes feel as if they are coasting on Optical Cruise Control all the way to Nirvana. I'm so glad he wrote so many books because I'm enraptured enough to ride the golden waves of his prose all the way through The Second Canadian Book Challenge and into eternity...or at least into my fifties.

One of the reasons I love you so much is that you're both a writer and a reader. I embrace both parts of you. Most of your fans would tell you to get your ass to the PC and hurry up with another book, but they don't understand you like I do, Nick -- after a good day of writing, I want you to get your ass to the bookstore (or bookshop, as you'd put it in the UK) and buy up all the Robertson Davies you can find. Read it, read him. I promise, he's to modern literature what Marah is to modern music. Although we're on totally separate continents, can't we read Robertson Davies together, darling?

And Nick -- I must be stern with you for a moment -- don't just buy Robertson's books and let them just sit forever-and-ever in your "Books Bought This Month" pile. I have friends that read your column faithfully and they'll tell me. I won't be happy. A disappointed Bybee is a grim sight. How grim? By comparison, Mrs. Danvers would look like Rebecca Of Sunnybrook Farm.

Don't worry; I will NOT forget you. Fever Pitch and Slam still have a prominent spot on my TBR, and you'll always have a special spot in the book stacks of my heart. Meanwhile, my Tough & Cool Inner Bookworm hears another's voice, and he's got a fine Canadian accent.

Love, Kisses and Happy Reading, eh?

Bybee

Weekly Geeks #10: Magazines

I buy a magazine every month, but it's not for me, it's for CanadaBoy. He's addicted to Men's Health. He had a subscription when he first came here, but when it expired, they gave him fits about renewing because his billing address (Canada) and mailing address (South Korea) were different. Luckily, it can be easily found at What The Book? Since I'm in there all the time, CB has delegated the task to me. It's damn expensive -- the equivalent of $7.00, but I have seen it as high as $19.00 at Kyobo.

Every now and then I'll succumb and buy a magazine. In 2006, I bought a copy of People that had coverage of the Katrina disaster. Last year, I bought a copy of Bitch, because that issue had an interview with Lisa Edelstein and an article about hoarding. Earlier this year, I bought an issue of The New Yorker, because it had a big feature about Michelle Obama. Lately, I've been circling the latest copy of Mental Floss. It's difficult for me to spend money on magazines because (irrationally, yes, I know!) I consider them "not really reading". (It's not just my Tough & Cool Inner Bookworm talking -- I never count magazines in any kind of reading total. Just doesn't occur to me.) Even though I enjoy magazines, they're read too quickly to justify the purchase on a regular basis. I was like this back in the US as well; I encouraged people to give me magazine subscriptions for gifts.

At work, the Language Center subscribes to Time and Newsweek (editions for Asia), so I fall on them when I see them in the professor's lounge. Often I scan, but I give the Arts & Culture sections a good going-over. If there's a book review, I'm off to the photocopier. I'm a little weary of reading business news that's geared toward Asia, but as a result, I have learned a lot about this part of the world.

My mom often sends care packages -- there are some things that are im-frickin'-possible to get over here; (I don't want to go into detail about that. Trust me. TMI.) Anyway, she always slips in some of her back issues: People, Country Weekly, TV Guide (it's changed size!) and Soap Opera Digest. When it's People or TV Guide, I go into a reading coma until the last page is done. Often, I'll take People to class as yet another example of American culture. They really zone in on the advertisements. If it's Soap Opera Digest I try to bring myself up to date and figure out who the hell all these new characters are on The Young And The Restless. Country Weekly is boring fluff. I don't know who all these new singers are and I don't give a damn, but I mine each issue carefully for the token story about an older star. One time there was a cover story written by John Carter Cash about his famous father; I still have that one.

I didn't know I missed them, but when I was home during the summers of 2006 and 2007, I fell on copies of Woman's Day and Good Housekeeping with a hunger and thoroughness that was surprising.

I pined for Entertainment Weekly for a while, then realized that I could read it online.

Looking at this list, it seems like there's a lot here for something that's "not really reading." LOL. Okay, maybe it is reading, but I've got to stick to my guns about one point: Magazines aren't books. When I worked at Wal-Mart during graduate school, it hurt my ears to hear customers repeatedly refer to The National Enquirer or Family Circle as..."Could you leave that book out of the sack, hon? I'm gonna sit over here and look at it while I'm waiting on my prescription."

...

Aaaaaggghhh. Maybe my T&CIB has succeeded in totally taking over a tiny part of me.

June Reading: One Dozen!

Middlesex -Jeffrey Eugenides. Go over and read Sam's review of this book. I echo his opinion. I will add that I liked it much MUCH better than The Virgin Suicides.

My Life And Hard Times - James Thurber. I remember reading a couple of these humorous incidents when they were assigned in school. Thurber is a master with the English language, and has superb control with his comic pacing. I can see how David Sedaris was influenced by Thurber. The cleaning ladies speaking in dialect made me squirm a little, but this device was commonplace back in 1933, when the book was published. If you can get past that, it's a highly entertaining read.

High Sierra - W.R. Burnett. I've *got* to read more of Burnett's novels. He's as good as James M. Cain. He's my exciting discovery for June!

The Little Prince - Antoine de Saint Exupery. You probably won't believe this, but I have given my students the Korean translation of this story and next week, we'll read the English version together in class! Whoo!

Caught By The Sea - Gary Paulsen. Paulsen discusses his love of sailing and how he worked his way through the learning curve, sometimes in life-threatening circumstances. I love his almost -Hemingway-esque prose.

The Executioner's Song - Norman Mailer. Imagine In Cold Blood on steroids.
Heart-Shaped Box -Joe Hill. It's too soon to tell, but Cousin Joe might be even better than Uncle Steve. I liked two things in particular: the combination of wit and horror and that he knows when to end his story.

Fat Girl - Judith Moore. I think Moore intended to keep the reader at a cool remove during this memoir of growing up in the 1940s and early 50s, unloved by most of the adults around her. Her petite mother was especially furious with Judith over her size, and would put her on crash diets and abuse her verbally and physically when the number on the scale went up or stayed the same. The father, who Judith resembled, was absent in her life and went on to a new wife and child when Judith's mother threw him out. Moore also writes about her life as an overweight adult and shows the reader that her bitterness and self-loathing knows no bounds. She died of cancer soon after this book was published, and it's obvious that it was written while she was feeling the full effects of her illness and the grueling treatments that would eventually fail her. I think if she'd been healthy, she would've framed this book differently. Fat Girl book reminds me of someone in my family who also grew up fat with a svelte mother who was determined that she should be thin, and, like Moore's mother, wasn't very subtle or supportive and even to this day still comes out with unfeeling comments. This relative and Moore even have similar names. Reading Moore's memoir left me incredibly sad.

Grizzly! Real-Life Animal Attacks - Allan B. Ury. Life is a banquet, and sometimes humans are the main course. It's nothing personal, though.

Persepolis - Marjane Satrapi. Marjane Satrapi's story of growing up in 1970s and 1980s Iran as the Islamic government tightened their fanatical grasp on the people and the war with Iraq began was painful to read at times -- it was difficult to see if the worse enemy was within or without. The stark black-and-white art is incredible. If you haven't read this, please go find a copy! I read the first part, and now I want to read part two.

The Witch Of Blackbird Pond -Elizabeth George Speare. Making Kit from Barbados was a neat trick because Speare got to work in all that research about Puritan and colonial America very smoothly. I didn't realize that Quakers had such a reputation for troublemaking among the Puritans. The courting stuff reminded me pleasantly of Jane Austen -- in spite of myself, I got interested, hoping that each girl would end up with the suitor who suited her best. Although Goodwife Cruffe was harsh, judgmental and just a terribly unpleasant character right from the beginning, I hated the bit about the henpecked husband rising up suddenly and putting her in her place in front of the whole village -- it seemed like a moldy old device often used in 1950s movies or TV shows.

Monday Mourning -Kathy Reichs. The choppy sentence structure hurts my eyes, and I'm really bored when Tempe Brennan is talking about her personal life, but when she's at work, she's brilliant; I was riveted to the page.