Or, clearly SL has been watching too much t.v.
I've been a bit stressed as of late, and consequently have spent most of my free time vegging in front of the television. I realize that there are message boards expressly for this purpose, but frankly I don't care. Here goes.
Typically, I enjoy Project Runway, but I must protest the way the series ended this season. In the first place, Chris deserved to remain in the competition instead of Rami. Don't get me wrong, Rami is very talented and likable, but I find it disheartening that he was given so many chances to demonstrate another skill and style besides his beloved draping technique when others were eliminated for far smaller transgressions. Rami did a draped piece on almost every challenge, the candy and men's apparel challenges being the two examples that come to mind when he didn't do drape. He even did draping during the WWE challenge for pity's sake! But more important than this bias on the part of the judges, the final winner was wrong as well. Again, don't get me wrong, Christian is very talented, but Jillian should have won. Chris was eliminated for his work being too costumey and yet Christian wins with a collection that contains a dress made entirely out of feathers? What? Consistency please!!! Every single piece was an avant garde item. That was not the challenge!
We are all geared up in my family for the annual March madness of NCAA basketball, as are many others. Does it bother anyone else that despite the fact that it is called March madness that the tournament doesn't end until April? What with the pre-season tournaments and the post season these students have been playing since November. Is it any wonder that so many athletes bolt from college to the NBA before finishing their degrees?
The Real Housewives of New York City is hopeless addictive and not nearly as repulsive as the Real Housewives of Orange County. Yes, they both feature hopelessly rich women and their ridiculously opulent lives, but at least in the NYC series they are aware of the fact that they live a rarefied existence. And they all have jobs so they are at least earning some of the money they spend. You wouldn't catch one of these socialites doing a keg stand. That being said, Ramona really should listen to her daughter's fashion advice. That way she would go out looking sexy and classy, as opposed to looking cheap. I don't care if the top is Dolce & Gabbana, it looked like hooker wear.
Apparently, critics have taken Diablo Cody, the woman who penned Juno, to task over the dialogue, claiming that teenagers don't speak like that. Now, I haven't seen the movie, but I have seen enough clips of it to get the idea of how Juno speaks in the film, and I have one thing to say to all of those critics out there. Screw you. Just because the average teenager doesn't talk like that doesn't mean that no teenagers do. And furthermore, no one is ever as witty, or concise, or clever, or articulate as the characters in a movie (with the exception of Dorothy Parker). You flub your line in a film and they cry "cut!" and you do it over. In real life if you muff the delivery that's it. Dialogue in films and t.v. shows has to be better than what you hear at your local coffee shop or grocery store. That's why it is called entertainment. Newsflash here all you critics out there, no one looks like the people in movies either, not even the actors who were in the movie! They have makeup and lighting, and fantastic costuming, and editing to make them look fabulous. And we want them to look fabulous (unless the part calls for something else). So get over yourselves. I think what really bothers them is that someone who worked as a stripper was able to come up with such a great script.
Finally, I came to the realization that if I were a car I would most likely be a Volvo. This thought depresses me. Safe, reliable, dependable. Wonderful things for a car to be, and overall, not bad for a person. But I always thought I had more personality and dash than a Volvo. Not that I think I am a Bugatti or anything, but I had hoped I would be something with more swish in it than a Volvo. This isn't a slam against Volvos or Volvo owners, but in life, when people see you almost solely as being reliable and dependable, they take you for granted. And that really sucks. But perhaps I have just been watching too much Top Gear. Richard Hammond rocks!!!
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
a surfeit of emotions
I have too many emotions. It's not that I think I have more than other people, or that mine are stronger, although in a lot of cases this is true. Truth be told, I really don't know what anyone else feels, nor do I particularly care if the emotional bouillabaisse I routinely find myself in is commonplace. I only know that I dislike it. It wearies me, and more and more I find myself wishing that I could turn a switch and stop the incessant flow of emotions that churn within, so that i may pass through life as indifferent and dispassionate as so many others.
Ordinarily I would find a statement such as this alarming. After all, a hallmark of sociopaths is that they are devoid of emotion. But the vast and relentless current of feelings I am subjected to day in and day out is slowly eroding me, and it hurts. It isn't that I wish to stop feeling altogether, but to be able to stop some would be heavenly. I feel as if there are tiny fissures all about me, leeching emotional ooze at every turn like radioactive waste, polluting everything. I simply cannot contain them all, and there seems to be nothing that I can do to stop it. I want so much to not care, to blithely ignore, to forget, to sail through life unruffled and undisturbed by the human condition. Placid. Serene. Not bouncing back and forth between vexed, bored, lonely, irate, sad, chagrined, and concerned, all within the same hour. (And that is just one example).
How glorious it would be to just not care-about a job well done (which produces stress, vexation, resentment, although occasionally it does produce satisfaction), the past (which produces regret, sorrow, longing and a dash of shame), the future (worry, worry and more worry), in short, any myriad number of things and people. How delightful it would be to never again experience the hand-clenching, gut wrenching, blood pounding jealousy that lurks like a tightly coiled viper deep within the recesses of my heart that strikes unexpectedly and as viciously as it ever did. I should not care, I hate that I care, when clearly so many people don't. It is an exercise in futility. But that seems to be my lot in life, to care about people and things disproportionately to their significance and/or worth.
And it would be nice, if just once, I could cry prettily, instead of with great heaving sobs that comically cause my dog to raise his head in alarm, and which leave me looking like a trainee clown who has failed her final in make-up application.
Ordinarily I would find a statement such as this alarming. After all, a hallmark of sociopaths is that they are devoid of emotion. But the vast and relentless current of feelings I am subjected to day in and day out is slowly eroding me, and it hurts. It isn't that I wish to stop feeling altogether, but to be able to stop some would be heavenly. I feel as if there are tiny fissures all about me, leeching emotional ooze at every turn like radioactive waste, polluting everything. I simply cannot contain them all, and there seems to be nothing that I can do to stop it. I want so much to not care, to blithely ignore, to forget, to sail through life unruffled and undisturbed by the human condition. Placid. Serene. Not bouncing back and forth between vexed, bored, lonely, irate, sad, chagrined, and concerned, all within the same hour. (And that is just one example).
How glorious it would be to just not care-about a job well done (which produces stress, vexation, resentment, although occasionally it does produce satisfaction), the past (which produces regret, sorrow, longing and a dash of shame), the future (worry, worry and more worry), in short, any myriad number of things and people. How delightful it would be to never again experience the hand-clenching, gut wrenching, blood pounding jealousy that lurks like a tightly coiled viper deep within the recesses of my heart that strikes unexpectedly and as viciously as it ever did. I should not care, I hate that I care, when clearly so many people don't. It is an exercise in futility. But that seems to be my lot in life, to care about people and things disproportionately to their significance and/or worth.
And it would be nice, if just once, I could cry prettily, instead of with great heaving sobs that comically cause my dog to raise his head in alarm, and which leave me looking like a trainee clown who has failed her final in make-up application.
Monday, February 11, 2008
From the Shelves 8
I've had a hard time picking a book for this month. Should I go with a classic of African-American literature like Their Eyes Were Watching God? Or should I go with a tragic romance, like Possession? Nothing seemed right. And then it hit me. Since February is the "love" month (more on my disdain for that later) why not make it a mini list of the books I loved as a child? So here they are, in no particular order.
1. The Ramona Books by Beverly Cleary (some more than others of course, but no series is equally strong for every book).
2. Ballet Shoes by Noel Streatfeild (I read this so many times the pages of my copy are falling out).
3. Dancing Shoes, also by Streatfeild. (This one also has the pages falling out).
4. Sarah, Plain and Tall by Patricia MacLachlan. (My copy of this, that was inscribed by my mother, got ruined in our move to North Carolina. That year for my birthday she replaced it, complete with identical inscription. I burst into tears).
5. The Four-Story Mistake by Elizabeth Enright. (This is the second book in a series of four and I just love it, and will re-read it now when I need a pick me up. I always wanted to be Miranda.)
I was a very girly girl when it came to reading material, but I loved playing with Legos, and the G.I. Joes and/or He-Man action figures that my friends (or their brothers owned). Odd child, that was me.
1. The Ramona Books by Beverly Cleary (some more than others of course, but no series is equally strong for every book).
2. Ballet Shoes by Noel Streatfeild (I read this so many times the pages of my copy are falling out).
3. Dancing Shoes, also by Streatfeild. (This one also has the pages falling out).
4. Sarah, Plain and Tall by Patricia MacLachlan. (My copy of this, that was inscribed by my mother, got ruined in our move to North Carolina. That year for my birthday she replaced it, complete with identical inscription. I burst into tears).
5. The Four-Story Mistake by Elizabeth Enright. (This is the second book in a series of four and I just love it, and will re-read it now when I need a pick me up. I always wanted to be Miranda.)
I was a very girly girl when it came to reading material, but I loved playing with Legos, and the G.I. Joes and/or He-Man action figures that my friends (or their brothers owned). Odd child, that was me.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
a snapshot of time
The sun is shining today, though it is diffused by clouds that make the sky appear to be gray and white, as if suddenly we were living in a black and white movie. Or at least such is the case at this moment as I view the world outside through the picture window of my living room.
From here, wrapped up in an afghan to ward off the perpetual chill that afflicts this room of the house, I can almost delude myself into thinking that spring has arrived. Squirrels scamper about in the yard, song birds twitter, their happy tunes reaching me despite the absence of an open window, and daffodils have sprouted in a long neglected planter.
And yet, I know it is not spring. It is still winter. This thought saddens me, although the sun is brighter now. The warm white light makes me long for prisms to hang in the window so that rainbows can dance all over the room and tease my dog. And once again clouds obscure the sun, washing out the landscape.
Time has slipped away from me, and I must leave for work. The view from the window has already changed, as a patch of blue appears above the tree line. But my melancholy lingers, as it does every January. I wonder how long it will last.
From here, wrapped up in an afghan to ward off the perpetual chill that afflicts this room of the house, I can almost delude myself into thinking that spring has arrived. Squirrels scamper about in the yard, song birds twitter, their happy tunes reaching me despite the absence of an open window, and daffodils have sprouted in a long neglected planter.
And yet, I know it is not spring. It is still winter. This thought saddens me, although the sun is brighter now. The warm white light makes me long for prisms to hang in the window so that rainbows can dance all over the room and tease my dog. And once again clouds obscure the sun, washing out the landscape.
Time has slipped away from me, and I must leave for work. The view from the window has already changed, as a patch of blue appears above the tree line. But my melancholy lingers, as it does every January. I wonder how long it will last.
Friday, January 18, 2008
A new year on the shelves
I'm cheating a bit today. Ordinarily I would have blogged much sooner about the new year and left my book recommendation for the month to a separate post but as my free time has been consumed by stage managing duties and household chores and work has been hectic with the start of a new semester this will be a two-fer. (And my god but that was a run on sentence! Eh.....cringe away English professors!)
The one saving grace of the month of January is the potential for snow days, and joys of joys we had one yesterday. I spent the day doing what you should do on a snow day: curling up with a good book and a cuddly dog under a blanket and only paying attention to the clock when I was looking for a specific television program. But snow days are a rare thing here and everything is virtually melted now. There are rumors that more winter precipitation will materialize tomorrow but I'm not holding my breath, although I will swing by the store and pick up a few needed items. I don't need to stock up on books as I have an ever growing stack waiting for me as it is.
One of the things I had been looking forward to in January was the publication of the second book in a delightful new series I discovered, but in a cruel and yet delightful twist of fate the book was published in December and I promptly devoured it. I now will have to wait until the end of the year for the third installment (crosses fingers that it will arrive by then). I only hope to find others books on my list to serve as appropriate diversions. What series is this that has inspired such anticipation? The Lady Julie Gray mysteries by Deanna Raybourn.
The first book in the series is Silent in the Grave and it contains what is probably the best opening lines of a book ever. "To say I met Nicholas Brisbane over my husband's dead body is not entirely accurate. Edward, it should be noted, was still twitching upon the floor." After reading the book I had to share that line with just about everyone and have thus committed it to memory. The second book in the series, Silent in the Sanctuary was every bit as good as the first, if not better. Set during the 1880's in London the star of the novels is the aforementioned Lady Julia Gray. She is not a professional investigator, nor a super-genius, although she is smart and inquisitive. This allows her to retain an air of believability and makes her much easy to relate to. The mistakes she makes when she is thrust into the world of murder investigation are the mistakes a real person would make, and the frustrations she faces while dealing with the stubborn and dashing Nicholas Brisbane are all too real as well. Both books are filled with witty dialogue, vibrant and interesting characters (both primary and secondary) with nary a whiff of a cipher, well paced plots that never override character development, oodles of details peppered throughout, and final reveals that make you say "oh my god of course!!! How did I not see that?!" I highly recommend both, but you must read them in order or else the mysteries in the first will be spoiled.
It is rare for me to find books for adults that are filled with characters that I would not only like to meet, but also who I would like to be friends with. I dearly wish that I could be friends with Lady Julia and her wonderfully eccentric family, The Marches. Granted, I might encounter some unpleasantness if I was friends with them, but I would never ever be bored.
The one saving grace of the month of January is the potential for snow days, and joys of joys we had one yesterday. I spent the day doing what you should do on a snow day: curling up with a good book and a cuddly dog under a blanket and only paying attention to the clock when I was looking for a specific television program. But snow days are a rare thing here and everything is virtually melted now. There are rumors that more winter precipitation will materialize tomorrow but I'm not holding my breath, although I will swing by the store and pick up a few needed items. I don't need to stock up on books as I have an ever growing stack waiting for me as it is.
One of the things I had been looking forward to in January was the publication of the second book in a delightful new series I discovered, but in a cruel and yet delightful twist of fate the book was published in December and I promptly devoured it. I now will have to wait until the end of the year for the third installment (crosses fingers that it will arrive by then). I only hope to find others books on my list to serve as appropriate diversions. What series is this that has inspired such anticipation? The Lady Julie Gray mysteries by Deanna Raybourn.
The first book in the series is Silent in the Grave and it contains what is probably the best opening lines of a book ever. "To say I met Nicholas Brisbane over my husband's dead body is not entirely accurate. Edward, it should be noted, was still twitching upon the floor." After reading the book I had to share that line with just about everyone and have thus committed it to memory. The second book in the series, Silent in the Sanctuary was every bit as good as the first, if not better. Set during the 1880's in London the star of the novels is the aforementioned Lady Julia Gray. She is not a professional investigator, nor a super-genius, although she is smart and inquisitive. This allows her to retain an air of believability and makes her much easy to relate to. The mistakes she makes when she is thrust into the world of murder investigation are the mistakes a real person would make, and the frustrations she faces while dealing with the stubborn and dashing Nicholas Brisbane are all too real as well. Both books are filled with witty dialogue, vibrant and interesting characters (both primary and secondary) with nary a whiff of a cipher, well paced plots that never override character development, oodles of details peppered throughout, and final reveals that make you say "oh my god of course!!! How did I not see that?!" I highly recommend both, but you must read them in order or else the mysteries in the first will be spoiled.
It is rare for me to find books for adults that are filled with characters that I would not only like to meet, but also who I would like to be friends with. I dearly wish that I could be friends with Lady Julia and her wonderfully eccentric family, The Marches. Granted, I might encounter some unpleasantness if I was friends with them, but I would never ever be bored.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
A year on the nightstand
Here is a list of all of the new books I've read over this year, with a short reaction for each.
1. The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield (fun gothic mystery)
2. She Walks These Hills by Sharyn McCrumb (eh)
3. A Fool's Gold by Bill Merritt (hard to believe it is non-ficiton)
4. The Stupidest Angel by Christopher Moore (hysterical)
5. You Suck by Christopher Moore (my favorite of all the Moore books so far)
6. Bloodsucking Fiends by Christopher Moore (funny, but not as good as it's sequel)
7. Island of the Sequined Love Nun by Christopher Moore (the author is demented)
8. A Bell for Adano by John Hersey (touching and maddening)
9. A Dirty Job by Christopher Moore (I laughed, I cried, it was better than Cats)
10. The Gun Seller by Hugh Laurie (great little action/suspense novel)
11. Who's Afraid of Beowulf? by Tom Holt (a Christopher Moore recommendation)
12. Puss 'n Cahoots by Rita Mae Brown (murder mystery where you can't tell the villain)
13. American Born Chinese by Gene Luen Yang (great graphic novel on a complex issue)
14. Monkey Wrench Gang by Edward Abbey (good but not great)
15. The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty (absurd and badly written)
16. Plum Lovin by Janet Evanovich (fun bit of fluff)
17. Memory Keeper's Daughter by Kim Edwards (one of those melodrama novels about dysfunctional people that women seem to eat up)
18. The Higher Power of Lucky by Susan Patron (cute children's book)
19. There's a (slight) chance I might be going to hell by Laurie Notaro (okay)
20. A murder for her majesty by Beth Hilgartner (great historical mystery)
21. Pleasing the Ghost by Sharon Creech. (children's fluff)
22. The Big Over Easy by Jasper Fforde (nobody twists fiction like Fforde)
23. Nicky Deuce: Welcome to the Family by Steve Schirripa and Charles Fleming (entertaining diversion)
24. Grayson by Lynne Cox (would have made a nice magazine article)
25. Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card (great read, slightly disturbing)
26. Lean Mean Thirteen by Janet Evanovich. (a series that stays strong)
27. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows by J.K. Rowling (the middle lagged and the epilogue left me most unsatisfied but overall a strong finish)
28. The Silver Pigs by Lindsey Davis (interesting but not captivating)
29. Homesick: My Own Story by Jean Fritz (loved it!)
30. Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris (love finding a new series!)
31. We're Just Like You, Only Prettier by Celia Rivenbark (not quite what I was expecting)
32. The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova (would have benefited from an tighter edit, it was like she wanted to show off all she knew)
33. The Color of Water by James McBride (fascinating)
34. Sex with Kings by Eleanor Herman (a bit repetitive, but interesting)
35. Sex With the Queen by Eleanor Herman (makes me relieved to live in the present)
36. Bones to Pick by Carolyn Haines (another strong showing in a fun series)
37. Living Dead in Dallas by Charlaine Harris (I'm beginning to develop a thing for one of the characters)
38. First Among Sequels by Jaspar Fforde (don't read without reading the first four books!)
39. Permanent Rose by Hilary McKay (I want to be friends with the characters in this series)
40. The Lady and the Panda by Vicki Croke (mind boggling-the story itself, not the book)
41. Marvel 1602 by Neil Gaiman (great example of an author re-imagining established characters)
42. Club Dead by Charlaine Harris (yes, I do have a thing for Eric)
43. I am the Messenger by Markus Zasuk (I really liked, until the end)
44. Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris (it is a brave man who skewers himself as completely as Sedaris)
45. Marley and Me by John Grogan (read with a box of tissues nearby)
46. West with the Night by Beryl Markham. (Highly recommended)
47. Villain's Guide to Better Living by Neil Zawacki (a satire that actually has good advice)
48. Silent in the Grave by Deanna Raybourn (read a borrowed hardback and want to purchase it)
49. Dead to the World by Charlaine Harris (can you tell I enjoyed this series?)
50. Dead as a Doornail by Charlaine Harris (the author does a great job of interpreting the vampire myths to her own world)
51. Definitely Dead by Charlaine Harris (I just love Eric)
52. Silent in the Sanctuary by Deanna Raybourn (you know how when a book ends and you are sad to leave the characters behind? Well the Lady Julia Grey mysteries are like that. The next one isn't due out until December 08 or January 09. God's teeth! I can't wait that long!)
53. The Penderwicks by Jeanne Birdsall (I hope she writes a sequel)
54. Looking Glass Wars by Frank Beddor (first in a trilogy. I enjoyed it, but I think it will be a bit of a stretch to flush it out into three books)
55. Vesuvius Club by Mark Gatiss (disappointing)
56. Caddy Ever After by Hilary McKay (please don't stop with the Casson family stories!)
For those who have paid attention some of the books that appeared in the "on my nightstand" section (including the one on there now) are not on this list. It is because I haven't finished them. Some I will go back to, others not.
1. The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield (fun gothic mystery)
2. She Walks These Hills by Sharyn McCrumb (eh)
3. A Fool's Gold by Bill Merritt (hard to believe it is non-ficiton)
4. The Stupidest Angel by Christopher Moore (hysterical)
5. You Suck by Christopher Moore (my favorite of all the Moore books so far)
6. Bloodsucking Fiends by Christopher Moore (funny, but not as good as it's sequel)
7. Island of the Sequined Love Nun by Christopher Moore (the author is demented)
8. A Bell for Adano by John Hersey (touching and maddening)
9. A Dirty Job by Christopher Moore (I laughed, I cried, it was better than Cats)
10. The Gun Seller by Hugh Laurie (great little action/suspense novel)
11. Who's Afraid of Beowulf? by Tom Holt (a Christopher Moore recommendation)
12. Puss 'n Cahoots by Rita Mae Brown (murder mystery where you can't tell the villain)
13. American Born Chinese by Gene Luen Yang (great graphic novel on a complex issue)
14. Monkey Wrench Gang by Edward Abbey (good but not great)
15. The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty (absurd and badly written)
16. Plum Lovin by Janet Evanovich (fun bit of fluff)
17. Memory Keeper's Daughter by Kim Edwards (one of those melodrama novels about dysfunctional people that women seem to eat up)
18. The Higher Power of Lucky by Susan Patron (cute children's book)
19. There's a (slight) chance I might be going to hell by Laurie Notaro (okay)
20. A murder for her majesty by Beth Hilgartner (great historical mystery)
21. Pleasing the Ghost by Sharon Creech. (children's fluff)
22. The Big Over Easy by Jasper Fforde (nobody twists fiction like Fforde)
23. Nicky Deuce: Welcome to the Family by Steve Schirripa and Charles Fleming (entertaining diversion)
24. Grayson by Lynne Cox (would have made a nice magazine article)
25. Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card (great read, slightly disturbing)
26. Lean Mean Thirteen by Janet Evanovich. (a series that stays strong)
27. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows by J.K. Rowling (the middle lagged and the epilogue left me most unsatisfied but overall a strong finish)
28. The Silver Pigs by Lindsey Davis (interesting but not captivating)
29. Homesick: My Own Story by Jean Fritz (loved it!)
30. Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris (love finding a new series!)
31. We're Just Like You, Only Prettier by Celia Rivenbark (not quite what I was expecting)
32. The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova (would have benefited from an tighter edit, it was like she wanted to show off all she knew)
33. The Color of Water by James McBride (fascinating)
34. Sex with Kings by Eleanor Herman (a bit repetitive, but interesting)
35. Sex With the Queen by Eleanor Herman (makes me relieved to live in the present)
36. Bones to Pick by Carolyn Haines (another strong showing in a fun series)
37. Living Dead in Dallas by Charlaine Harris (I'm beginning to develop a thing for one of the characters)
38. First Among Sequels by Jaspar Fforde (don't read without reading the first four books!)
39. Permanent Rose by Hilary McKay (I want to be friends with the characters in this series)
40. The Lady and the Panda by Vicki Croke (mind boggling-the story itself, not the book)
41. Marvel 1602 by Neil Gaiman (great example of an author re-imagining established characters)
42. Club Dead by Charlaine Harris (yes, I do have a thing for Eric)
43. I am the Messenger by Markus Zasuk (I really liked, until the end)
44. Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris (it is a brave man who skewers himself as completely as Sedaris)
45. Marley and Me by John Grogan (read with a box of tissues nearby)
46. West with the Night by Beryl Markham. (Highly recommended)
47. Villain's Guide to Better Living by Neil Zawacki (a satire that actually has good advice)
48. Silent in the Grave by Deanna Raybourn (read a borrowed hardback and want to purchase it)
49. Dead to the World by Charlaine Harris (can you tell I enjoyed this series?)
50. Dead as a Doornail by Charlaine Harris (the author does a great job of interpreting the vampire myths to her own world)
51. Definitely Dead by Charlaine Harris (I just love Eric)
52. Silent in the Sanctuary by Deanna Raybourn (you know how when a book ends and you are sad to leave the characters behind? Well the Lady Julia Grey mysteries are like that. The next one isn't due out until December 08 or January 09. God's teeth! I can't wait that long!)
53. The Penderwicks by Jeanne Birdsall (I hope she writes a sequel)
54. Looking Glass Wars by Frank Beddor (first in a trilogy. I enjoyed it, but I think it will be a bit of a stretch to flush it out into three books)
55. Vesuvius Club by Mark Gatiss (disappointing)
56. Caddy Ever After by Hilary McKay (please don't stop with the Casson family stories!)
For those who have paid attention some of the books that appeared in the "on my nightstand" section (including the one on there now) are not on this list. It is because I haven't finished them. Some I will go back to, others not.
Monday, December 10, 2007
From the Shelves 7
It is well into the month of December and soon we will be overloaded with saccharine sentimentality and the cloying treacle that is most holiday entertainment. That is why I offer up this antidote, The Stupidest Angel by Christopher Moore. Read it now as a preemptive strike or read later as a palate cleanser, but above all read it. It is a hysterically irreverent novel, complete with a twisted yet touching version of The Gift of the Magi, lessons about love and community unity, granting wishes for children, and oh yes, zombies. It sounds absurd, and in some ways it is, but it is wildly entertaining and funny.
A few caveats though. Do not read this in public. You will laugh out loud starting with the author's note and keep right on laughing throughout the book. For some reason other people find the sight of someone reading and laughing hysterically to be disturbing. Moore's books are filled with quotable dialogue. If your friends will look askance on you for saying things like "he no likea the light," then perhaps you should give it a pass. The Stupidest Angel features many of the characters from previous Moore books so in one way it spoils some of the suspense of some of his other novels, but that is a trifling concern.
But if you are already sick of the maudlin pap that is heaped upon us during the Christmas season, and/or A Christmas Story is one of your favorite movies then you will thoroughly enjoy The Stupidest Angel. Read up!
A few caveats though. Do not read this in public. You will laugh out loud starting with the author's note and keep right on laughing throughout the book. For some reason other people find the sight of someone reading and laughing hysterically to be disturbing. Moore's books are filled with quotable dialogue. If your friends will look askance on you for saying things like "he no likea the light," then perhaps you should give it a pass. The Stupidest Angel features many of the characters from previous Moore books so in one way it spoils some of the suspense of some of his other novels, but that is a trifling concern.
But if you are already sick of the maudlin pap that is heaped upon us during the Christmas season, and/or A Christmas Story is one of your favorite movies then you will thoroughly enjoy The Stupidest Angel. Read up!
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