I am in Paris, France in 1720 watching the stock bubble created by John Law collapse. (The Ascent of Money by Niall Ferguson)
I am also in the offices of an ad agency, waiting for it all to end. (Then We Came To The End by Joshua Ferris)
Finally, I am at home, hanging out with my six year old son, who is out of school on winter break.
I was not overly impressed with Being Dead by Jim Crace. Winner of the National Book Critics Circle Award in 2000, this book, like my last, begins with a murder. Joseph and Celice, husband and wife, are murdered brutally on the beach at Baritone Bay. The narrative then moves back and forth between the decomposing bodies and, first the story of how the two victims fell in love and then later of how their daughter Syl deals with their deaths.
The prose in this book is quite good, but the story itself did not really grab me. I think I will try another of Crace's books, perhaps Quarantine, both a Booker finalist and a Whitbread winner. But, Being Dead really left me flat.
1.5/5
The Tenderness of Wolves begins with a murder. The scalped body of a trapper, Laurent Jammet, is discovered in his cabin in the backwoods of Dove River, in the Canadian Northern Territories. The woman that discovers the body, Mrs. Ross, soon finds that her son, Francis, is missing and that the authorities investigating suspect that Francis is the murderer. However, conflicting motives swirl around the case. The authorities are actually representatives of the Hudson Bay Company and Jammet was in the process of setting up a competing company. Soon, Mrs. Ross, Donald Moody, a Hudson Bay Company man, and Parker, a local guide and also a suspect in the murder, all set off across the snowy wilderness in pursuit of Francis and, Mrs. Ross hopes, the real killer.
The author, Stef Penney, beautifully evokes the blustery, snowy, frigid Canadian wilderness. This is an especially impressive feat given that Penney, an agoraphobe, has never visited Canada, and wrote to book on the strength of research done in the libraries of London. Well plotted and engaging, the only weakness is that several plot lines are left completely unresolved at the close of the book. However, if you can stand the lack of closure, I would highly recommend reading The Tenderness of Wolves for its evocation of the frigid Canadian winter alone.
4.75/5
I started reading Zadie Smith's On Beauty and I must say I was most disappointed. I did not like the prose, I was not interested in the story, it just plain left me flat. So, after starting it I am going to chuck it. I have removed it from my Book Awards II Challenge list. On Beauty has been replaced by Andrew Solomon's The Noonday Demon which won a National Book Award in 2001.
Some of you might ask, "Really, you are going to give up on a book, just like that?" And I have to say that it has taken some effort to stop finishing books that I started but did not like. Steve Leveen writes about the 50 Page Rule in his wonderful The Little Guide To Your Well-Read Life. I probably did not make it to the 50 page mark, but as all you other readers know, there are too many good books out their to waste your time on books you don't enjoy. As the third of Daniel Pennac's Readers Bill of Rights says, I have the right to not finish a book!
What I want to know today is … what are the most “wintery” books you can think of? The ones that almost embody Winter?
This year I read few books that were quite "wintery." First, The Tenderness of Wolves by Stef Penney. It takes place in the Canadian wilderness, full of snow and ice. I was reading it during several cold spells here in Texas and the book made it seem even chillier than it actually was. The second "wintery" book I read recently was A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. It is appropriate to the winter season for all the obvious reasons: christmas, ghosts, and snowy streets. Finally, earlier this year I read Cold Skin by Albert Sanchez Pinol, a very strange tale that takes place in an Antarctic island.
It has everything you could expect to find in a big old-fashioned novel or several of them -- characters, suspense, military action, romantic attachments, satire, with tenderness, philosophy.This is an apt summary. At times the story is hilariously funny, and at others it is heart achingly sad. I would highly recommend this book to anyone interested in a good read.
What is the best book you ever bought for yourself?
And, why? What made it the best? What made it so special?
I would have to say that the best book that I ever bought for myself was the Shorter Oxford English Dictionary. I had coveted a good OED for years. The full 20 volume OED would have been ideal, but a little too expensive. Not to mention the question of where in my crowded bookshelves I could put the 20 large volumes. I agonized between the Compact OED, which is all 20 volumes printed in one volume using really print, and the two volume Shorter OED. Many of the reviews on Amazon said the print in the Compact OED was too small to read, even with the included magnifying glass. That plus an extra $200 for the Compact OED convinced me to get the Shorter OED.
This purchase was special for several reasons. First, I had wanted to own an OED for so long that finally purchasing it for myself was reason enough for it to be special. Second, I had gone through a uncomfortable time in my life and felt that I was finally making some progress toward a better life. Purchasing a version of the OED was, silly enough, part of that progress. It was a symbol of the possibilities that were now open to me as I left the rough patch behind. Thirdly, it is special because it is the most expensive book I have purchased.
Do you give books as gifts?
To everyone? Or only to select people?
How do you feel about receiving books as gifts?
I do like to give books as gifts. I value reading so much myself that I give books as gifts in order to encourage others to do so too.
I am selective about the people to whom I give books though. First, I always want to make sure that the book is one that is appropriate, one that the other person will enjoy. This means I have to know that person pretty well before I can purchase the right book, and as a rather introverted person, I don't get to know many people that well. Second, in my family my wife handles most of the gift giving. So, I actually choose gifts only for close family members.
As far as receiving books as gifts, is there any other kind of gift? Anyone that knows me well enough to give me a gift knows that I am an avid reader. So, books are pretty much the extent of the gifts that I receive. Years ago I wasn't as keen on receiving books as gifts because often the books I received weren't to my liking. Now an Amazon Wish List means that I mostly receive books that I want to read.
Just One More Page asks:
I always like to have a book with me at all times – call it a nerdy grown-up security blanket – and rarely do I leave the house without slipping one into my bag (even if I KNOW I’m not going to have a chance to read it). Do you take a book with you? Do you take whatever book you’re currently reading, or do you have a special on-the-go book? And do you have a preference for a these types of book (paperback, hardback; short stories; poetry etc)?
I almost always take a book with me when I leave the house, a "just in case" book. You never know if you will get stuck in traffic, have to wait in line, etc. There are so many opportunities to read if you are ready take them when they come. Typically, I will take the book I am currently reading, unless it is a rather large sized book. As a man, I don't have a purse in which to throw a book, so I prefer to take smaller books, like paperbacks, for my "just in case" book.
A couple of days ago I put the finishing touches on my novel and went over the 50,000 word mark. This is my second year as a winner and I have to say, as hard as it is, it is a blast to write these things! Now, to catch up on my reading ...
So, it’s my birthday today. (Please, no applause.) But it’s inspiring today’s question–
What, if any, memorable or special book have you ever gotten as a present? Birthday or otherwise. What made it so notable? The person who gave it? The book itself? The “gift aura?”
Mariel suggested this week’s question.
Are you a spine breaker? Or a dog-earer? Do you expect to keep your books in pristine condition even after you have read them? Does watching other readers bend the cover all the way round make you flinch or squeal in pain?
To get real value from this, and from social science in general, it is important that you, the reader spend some time thinking about how the principles of human behavior identified in the experiments apply to your life. My suggestion to you is to pause at the end of each chapter and consider whether the principles revealed in the experiments might make your life better or worse, and more importantly what you could do differently, given your new understanding of human nature. This is where the real adventure lies.
What I knew was that the haka is a sort of grotesque dance that the New Zealand team performs before the match. Sort of intimidation in the manner of the great apes. And I also knew that rugby is a heavy sort of game, with guys falling all over each other on the grass all the time only to stand up and fall down and get all tangled up a few feet further along.
... the terrible, the incomprehensible way one's most banal, incidental, even comical choices achieve the most disproportionate result.
Wow ... my book "bender" continues. And while certainly not as harmless as a real bender, I told my wife that I want to go to a "one to one" on reading to purchasing. That is, I can purchase a book for every book I own that I read in that week. That way, I will stop stockpiling books that I haven't read yet.
[Y]ou should never lend a book or a woman. There's no obligation to return either. (p. 163)
Advesperate (v.) To approach evening.
Balter (v.) To dance clumsily..
It's nice to find a word I can use to explain why I've always hated to dance. I am a balterer. [Me too!]
Fard (v.) To paint the face with cosmetics, so as to hide blemishes.
I suspect there is a reason no one ever gets up from the table and says, "Excuse me while I go to the ladies' room and fard." It seems to be very difficult to make a four-letter word that begins with f sound like an activity that is polite to discuss at the dinner table.
Unbepissed (adj.) Not having been urinated on; unwet with urine.
Who ever thought there was an actual need for such a word? Is it possible that at some time there was such a profusion of things that had been urinated on that there was a pressing need to distinguish those that had not?
When I get back to the library and resume reading I immediately realize why people wear these silly little things -- they make your vision better. I no longer have to move my face closer or farther from the page depending on whether I am reading the definition or the etymology. The headaches do not go away, but they become less severe, And at the end of the day I do not have large patches of gray imposing themselves on my peripheral vision. I am considerably cheered by this improvement, and wish that I could get glasses for all the other parts of my body that don't work as well.
...but I think it's a mistake to lose one's sense of death, even one's fear of death. Isn't death the boundary we need? Doesn't it give a precious texture to life, a sense of direction? You would have to ask yourself whether anything you do in this life would have beauty and meaning without the knowledge you carry of a final line, a border or limit.
Love is not honorable, unless it is based on equality.
