Searching for Mr. Right

I have been working my way through Catch-22 and The God of Small Things but it is kind of a struggle. Neither book is calling to me in my non-reading hours. I keep wandering around my apartment looking at bookshelves for something new to read. Something that is going to sweep me off my feet; ask me to sacrifice work and sleep time. I want to fall in love.

I am wondering whether that special connection is going to come from Russia. That's right, I'm looking for an older Russian, one that is smart, complex, has an international reputation. I have flirted with Russians before, and I think it's time to make the big leap in this relationship. Its time for War and Peace.

The edition of War and Peace that I have is kind of old and has Bible pages. I am not interested in straining my eyes for the next several weeks, so today after we visit Noyes Library for the kids, we will head to Kensington Park branch where I am going to borrow this edition.

It's a new translation by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky, who b.t.w. sounds like she is an actual character in a Tolstoy novel. Ooooh I hope it's not checked out before I get there! I read Pevear and Volokhonsky's translation of Anna Karenina and the cover told me that they were terrific translators who preserve Tolstoy's language skills.

Because the cover told me to, I attribute my exteme affinity for Anna Karenina to the translators and I hope they will also help me through War and Peace. I am viewing them as relationship counselors of a sort. Years ago when I attempted W&P, I pooped out at around page 700. I have never forgiven myself.

Hopefully, self-flagellation, this announcement of intent, excellent translators and the extreme excellence of Mr. Tolstoy himself will all combine to springboard me to new heights of reading fulfillment.

I Heart Masterpiece (Theatre)

Hooray! It's Little Dorrit Day! As a giant fan of both Charles Dickens and Masterpiece (Theatre)* I LOVE Sunday nights in the spring.

Two years ago I watched Bleak House; last year it was all Jane Austen. Heaven. This year they are doing mostly Dickens. Oliver Twist was good, and I LOVED Tom Hardy in something...hmm...Ooooh. Wuthering Heights. That was sooo great. Totally not Dickens though.

Because of Tom Hardy and his gorgeous co-star Charlotte Riley, I read Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. It was kind of a weird book. I can't even really recommend that anyone read it. Like The Scarlet Letter, it is a really great plot, not such a great read. Frankly, I like the screen versions of it better, both the one with Merle Oberon and Laurence Olivier, as well as this year's new version, which is more faithful to the original novel.

To sum up, I am an uber-nerd, by which I mean super awesome literary woman, and I can't wait to see if adorable Amy Dorrit gets to marry Mr. Clenham.


*I have no idea why they dropped the "Theatre" part It's not like it's any cooler of a show now, plus every one I know who watches it (me and my mother) still call it Masterpiece Theatre.

Changes Afoot

So, I hate this blog. It is so damn boring. Who wants to read a boring-ass book blog. I sure as hell don't. I like blogs that have curse words, and drinking and funny stories. Why then would I write a serious blog? Duh.

In honor of the ridiculously hot April day we are having, I am going to try to finish the God of Small Things. and think about India.

Also, I am going to Marshalls to look for a grill pan.

I read both The Song is You by Arthur Phillips and American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld. I kind of had to stew on them before I had anything to say, and now that I am writing about them, my opinions are becoming even more clear to me. Both were good books, and I would lend them to a friend, but neither was a favorite.

On one hand, The Song is You was a page turner, but because it was so intense and obsessive, I kept being forced to take embarrassment breaks. Arthur Phillips seems really talented; but I think I might like other books he has written better than this one. I was hoping this book would be great, but it was not an exact fit for me. It was a little dark, and I didn't like a single character. Also, the title of this book grates on me. I hate saying it aloud, and can't make the syntax of it work in my head. Now that I think about it, I have kind of an unpleasant taste in my mouth from this book, but I still feel like it was good. Maybe you will like it better than I did.

American Wife was very well written. Compared to The Song is You, it was like a sunny vacation, much lighter and much less troubling. I really liked reading Curtis Sittenfeld's prose, especially in the first half of the book. However, once the main character grew into an adult and began to resemble Laura Bush, my interest waned. I may have imagined it, but I think the writing suffered in the later parts of the novel as well. I vaguely knew this book was based on a few facts of Laura Bush's life, but didn't pay much attention. It wouldn't have kept me from wanting to read this book, but I would have read the first half with different eyes. After this, I do want to read more of Sittenfeld's work.

Right now, I am laboring through Catch- 22 by Joseph Heller, and eyeing The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy which is on my bookshelf.

I stated that I read a Tree Grows in Brooklyn because I thought I should. I read a lot of books because I think I should, but I don't want you to think less of me. I have found generally that "classics" are pretty good. Knowing this, I try not to limit myself to historical fiction although it really is my first love.

To combat my classic literature issue, I have an excellent friend, Stimey who has oodles of books in her basement (I know, not the smartest place to store your best paper treasures). I often leave her house with a stack of books that are totally outside my normal range. I have even enjoyed a zombie book. I still haven't admitted to her how very much I enjoyed reading the very silly World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War by Max Brooks. Now though, I totally know all about zombies. They are not aliens.

I am also not normally a Michael Crichton reader but I liked The Andromeda Strain. She said I would, and she was right. On the flip side, she also loves Kurt Vonnegut. Passionately. Not me. I read Slaughterhouse Five because she said to, and it was really not my favorite. Right now Catch 22 and 1984 are in my Stimey stack, I'll let you know how they go.

Here's the point. It's sometimes a challenge for people to know where to begin when selecting books, and I go by the advice of others as well as working my way through a lengthy list of accepted classics. My friend Stimey has greatly expanded my range over the past five years and I got her to at least begin Anne of Green Gables. Quitter. Well written books make for pretty good reading, no matter the genre. Good science fiction can be good reading whether it is your preferred subject matter or not. Just the same, I abhor badly researched historical fiction. Yuck. Get your period fashion and manners correct people.

Of course, I cannot claim to like all "great books" Despite the title of this blog and all the excellent Scarlet Letter implications, I am not a fan. I love adultery, and fornication, and public humiliation, and self imposed punishments, but woof. Hester Prynne was drowned for me by too many words. I had to slog through tons of poetic prose to find the point. Same goes for Moby Dick. My mother claims it is one of her favorites and I generally trust her but again, woof. You don't get to meet Ahab for several hundred pages. With my apologies to Mr. Hawthorne and Mr. Melville, get to the damn point gentlemen. Ridiculous verbosity is ridiculous verbosity whether you have a compelling tale to tell or no. And with that, I bid you a good day.

I sacrificed half a night of sleep this week for A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. It was worth it. I picked it up at my Dad's house because I steal all their books and I figured I should read this very important American book. It turns out I had already read it. Duh. It hit me hard this time though, it is so beautifully written, not heavy handed, not too dark, not too bright. It is perfectly balanced and you are so immersed in Brooklyn and in the beginning of the twentieth century. It was sort of sad to finish, and I had to sit, hold the book and take a few moments out for Francie. I loved it. You should read it.

I just bought two brand new books. Exciting, since I usually hit the library or used book store. I bought An American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld and The Song is You by Arthur Phillips. I read a review of the Phillips book in the Washington Post and it sounded just up my alley, full of longing and angst. I chose the Sittenfeld book because although I didn't read Prep, I think she's a solid writer. I read a few pages in the bookstore and it is going to be good.


More on my two new books soon.