I Have Been... (Pt. 3)

I have been...  (wrapping up.  Read the first parts here and here.)

Anticipating

The continuation of several series that I have been reading.  First, Etiquette and Espionage by Gail Carriger, author of the Parasol Protectorate series.  This one came out in February.  It is the first Young Adult novel by the author, and while I was happy to see that she didn't push the envelope of sexual encounters as so many YA authors do, the story as a whole felt a bit flat. I felt that the author might have felt constrained by the prospect of writing for a  younger audience, and the level of character development, plot development, and wit that I expect from this novelist were not there.  It was the "set up" for a series, if you will, so perhaps the future novels will be better.  It was entertaining enough, and you can get the first 3 chapters free!

 I am anticipating Cassandra Clare's Clockwork Princess this month, and looking waaaay forward to Diana Gabaldon's next Outlander book, Written in My Own Heart's Blood.

I'm not generally a series reader, so this is new for me... 

Wishing

For a job that had more flexible hours and allowed me to practice creative acts of reading and writing as part of my job.  Right now, my job is 40 hours/week--8 to 5.  I teach 6-hour technology courses more or less weekly (less right now), and spend the rest of the time learning more about the software I teach, memorizing the course manuals and activities, correcting projects for our certificate programs (You really should have used tab stops here...), and listening to technology instructional videos.  Yum.

 I would, ideally, like to put in my teaching hours and then have time to spend on professional development activities that make sense to me, that engage me.  Ideally, this would be flexible, though I am getting more used to working at an office.  I would love to have the summers off and a longer break between semesters to spend time with my little ones.  Does any of this sound familiar?

Second on my list (and these two switch places) is a bigger apartment or a house to rent.  3 Bedrooms (right now we have 2 for 5 people) and TWO WHOLE BATHROOMS!  Right now we have 1.5.  Storage would be great, too. 

Loving

That I can read and write again.  My writing is bordering on scholarly/professional at times, and perhaps I'm working up to something.  I submitted an abstract to a real, academic conference on Friday! The benefit of not working as a scholar/teacher is that intellectual activity doesn't have pressure attached.  I can really do what I want to do right now, and I needed this.

And if you're here, check out today's post on Booknotes from Literacy-chic!

Summer Reading

I suppose I should post this to my "Booknotes" blog,* but I wanted to post it here to give a bit of an update on what I have been thinking about lately. I have actually been motivated to read more in the past few weeks/months, which has its good points and bad--good, because I have been feeling that I should read more (or at all), bad because when I read, other things are pushed aside. It started with the campus visit. On the trip, I brought as reading material the student essays and creative writing that the school had provided for me, and also Bernard Schlink's The Reader. The appeal should be obvious: as I tell my students (sometimes, when I feel like mentioning my scholarly interests will help the rapport), when a novel portrays someone reading or writing, that's when I become interested. And there were so many other interesting things going on. I became interested in the book when I saw a commercial on TV for the film--which I saw afterwards (watched it on DVD with my mom), and was vastly disappointed. The book, however, is brilliantly complex and suggests some interesting ideas about literacy that I plan to form into a new chapter of my (conceptually) evolving (finished) dissertation. I have yet to read the other contemporary work that I plan to pair it with but Oprah would be proud (unfortunately, I think both books are Oprah Book Club selections, though for the life of me, I can't understand why she liked The Reader, unless she misread it or someone else selected it).

After that, my reading didn't pick up the way I wanted it to for one reason or another. I think the primary reason may have been a lack of direction--I have been feeling it for a while. So much is out there that I'm just not sure where to turn next. One writer in particular has kept creeping into my peripheral vision, however. Many of you have read him, I'm sure--Graham Greene, England's premier twentieth century Catholic novelist (well, I guess G. K. Chesterton could contend for that position from the opposite end of the political spectrum!). I didn't quite know what to read by him, and had no particular motivation to seek him out, except that the position I desperately wanted (yes, there was ONE that I knew I wanted) that was cancelled (hopefully to be reopened) was a position to teach 20th Century Catholic writers, and Greene was one specifically named. But he kept coming up. So when I accidently found myself reading an article about his file with the Vatican, I made up my mind to read The Power and the Glory, and did so during a recent drive to New Orleans (we were there 2 nights and a day). It is nothing short of brilliant. It captures with poignancy the struggle of the believer who recognizes his/her sinfulness, but even more than that, it captures the coexistence of hope and despair, and the contrast between the office of the priesthood and the fallible humans who are ordained to that office. I find it hard to consider it a work of British literature, since it is set in Mexico and focuses on Mexicans rather than the foreigners who live there, but even in that there is a curious Englishness, and I may be inclined to investigate in the future the strange draw that English writers have to Mexico, or more interestingly (to me), to Catholic culture(s). I am eager to read more of Greene, but I do not find that any of his novels sound as compelling as The Power and the Glory. I checked out a couple, though--Monsignor Quixote and The Heart of the Matter--so they're on the "to read" list.

A few days ago, I was in a local book/media store looking for more Graham Greene, and in the classics section I stumbled across a work by W. Somerset Maugham, The Painted Veil. The summary sounded intriguing, and it occurred to me that Maugham is in my time period, but another whose works I had never read. So when I went to the library to get the aforementioned Greene, I also grabbed The Painted Veil and another by Maugham, The Magician. On the way out, as I was thinking that I should look up some Walker Percy (another name on the list of Catholic authors desired by that coveted Assistant Professor position), I glanced to the side and found--the Walker Percy shelves! It was uncanny. So I have The Thanatos Syndrome and Love in the Ruins to read also.

I am currently reading The Magician by Maugham, and it is turning out to be your basic fin de siècle novel, and would pair nicely with The Picture of Dorian Grey, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Walter Pater and Baudelaire. I have yet to see that it does anything incredibly interesting, and some of its invocation of the occult is disturbing. There is a passage that evokes artworks and artists with which (and whom) I was previously unacquainted: this one by Juan Valdés de Leal, who seems rather generally extraordinary, Jusepe (or José) de Ribera, whose "dwarfs" don't seem to be well represented online (I only found this one), and a Pygmalion by Bronzino, which is the only one that seems to fit Maugham's description. Maugham's works and Greene's seem to suffer from a lack of footnotes that I attribute to a more general lack of critical attention--and yet, both names are well-known.

The Painted Veil is intriguing, and I may require it in the course I am teaching in the fall. It raises some interesting questions about depictions of women, includes some elements of the society novel that would not be out of place in Henry James or Edith Wharton, depicts the sexual act in a way that that would have seemed bold for Lawrence (who was generally more subtle), and contains lots & lots of colonialism. Of particular interest to me is Maugham's depiction of a convent of French missionary nuns in China, situated literally in the middle of a cholera epidemic. The nuns are easily the most noble characters in the novel, both in terms of bloodline and lineage (the Mother Superior is descended from nobility) and in terms of their bearing, serenity, closeness to the divine (though this is not quite how the characters in the novel or the narrator articulate it). It is interesting here to see the contrast between how the English speak of clergy of the Church of England, or how dismissive the characters are of the Anglican Church, and how the French nuns are portrayed. I'm not sure I have much to say about it beyond that, but I'm collecting data! ;)

So I am engaged in filling in a few less-than-apparent gaps in my reading of early- to mid-20th-century British fiction, asking along the way why I have not encountered these authors before, and whether it will matter at all, after I have read them, that I have read them--matter professionally, that is. I am already glad that I am reading them, and still believe in the inherent value of the act of reading--yes, I really do.

*Okay, I cross-posted it because my Booknotes blog is so very sad and neglected!

Books I Want (to Read)

In my spare time. . . ;)

Cross-posted at Booknotes from Literacy-Chic.

In Barnes and Noble the other day, I was looking in the nonfiction section to try to find a compelling book to replace the one we are currently using in our freshman composition course. I found one that I will be using in my own comp class next semester: Remix: Making Art and Commerce Thrive in the Hybrid Economy. It is a compelling topic that has impact on the life of universities--internet and copyright. Students have been trying to write about NAPSTER since I started teaching, and we are getting to the point where there is abundant scholarly material on the topic. In addition, the book stresses issues of writing and rhetoric and writing. The introduction refers to Lakoff and Johnson, gurus of metaphor and its implications. Another chapter begins with a discussion of use of sources in English papers--perfect! At any rate, I hope so. Of course, the best thing is that these are intellectual topics--subject to some emotional response, but not one that college freshmen (or non-freshmen) will be unable to control--and topics that I wouldn't mind discussing. This should prove to be an interesting book, but not one that I would necessarily read if not for teaching. . .

On the other hand, I found another book in B & N that I would really like to read: Anne Rice's memoir of her return to Catholicism, Called Out of Darkness: A Spiritual Confession. I love conversion narrative--though not the early 17th century kind that you find in American Lit textbooks! I love the book Prodigal Daughters: Catholic Women Come Home to the Church, for example. Interesting thing--like the Anne Rice book, it is not really a conversion narrative, but a reversion--except that a conversion is a "turning toward," so indeed, it is a conversion, just not as "conversion" is usually meant. I have seen critiques of Rice's "brand" of Catholicism--that is, her failure to accept Church teaching on prominent social issues. This is hardly surprising, especially given her connection to New Orleans. On the other hand, it is perhaps important to recognize "conversion" as a process for anyone, including those who already see themselves as faithful Catholics. All of us have moments when we drift, even just a little, and come back, the important part is that we remind ourselves of the True Goal. So I am not looking to Anne Rice as a model of Catholicism, which I hope others do not do. I am well acquainted with Rice's novels, having read the first 4 vampire chronicles--repeatedly--in high school and early in my college career. Interestingly, it was Rice that first led me to investigate the meaning of the words "tabernacle" and "Transubstantiation." That alone is reason for me to read of her spiritual journey. I expect to find more than a touch of arrogance, even in her semblance of humility--but again, I'm not reading her as a spiritual guide, and it takes a bit of egotism to write such a book, though humility is a necessary part of the ethos of such an undertaking (a little rhetorical analysis). I am not particularly interested in her Road to Cana, etc. I picked it up once--in SAM'S club, I think--and was a little put off by the whole project. I'm not crazy about the idea of fictionalizing the life of Jesus. It just seems like treading on dangerous territory--theologically speaking. Remember that arrogance I mentioned? Yeah, that too. What I am primarily looking for in Called Out of Darkness is a feeling. And Rice is particularly good at evoking feeling. And seeing how rooted her feelings are in a particular place, and how we share that place as a common background, and share a common (or uncommon) religious experience, well, I think I could really enjoy reading the book. I told my son the other day that when I was a little girl, all little old ladies were Catholic, and their houses were all adorned with statues of saints and holy pictures. And that created a feeling--something that has become meaningful for me in recent years. I want to read about the influences of the beauty of Catholic culture on Rice, and how it influenced her conversion, since I know--on a level--what she is talking about. Perhaps one of these days I will have the opportunity to read it.

There are two others that catch my attention for cerebral reasons. From the New York Times "Notable Books of 2008":

The Ten-Cent Plague: The Great Comic Book Scare and How it Changed America by David Hajdu

and

A Great Idea at the Time: The Rise, Fall and Curious Afterlife of the Great Books Project by Alex Beam

Because I am sitting down for the 4th or 5th time to try to finish this post, and because interruption seems imminent, I will not give too many of my impressions. After all, I have not actually held these books, I have just seen them online. You can, after all, tell a great deal about a book just from perusing it for 15 minutes--enough to write a decent review! I will say that these are rather predictable choices--being about literacy. Books about books--my specialty!

If I did this Challenge. . .

. . . And I'm not saying I will. . .

Chris, bookworm extrordinaire, is always getting tangled in this web of book challenges over at his blog, Stuff As Dreams are Made On. It's a neat concept, much more attractive to me than the "community reading projects" you hear about from time to time--or the Oprah's Book Club kind of thing. For one thing, you don't get the impression that the people who start challenges have any hidden agenda other than to get other people to read what they want/like to read. In my discipline we get so caught up in balancing how much of what type of work and which kind of author and what social, political or intellectual currents, the whom-you-can't-leave-outs and the whom-you-should-really-includes according to this or that view go onto our various reading lists, from syllabi to prelim lists to works in papers and articles we write, etc., that I'm not sure we even know what it means to simply enjoy a work of literature anymore. Of course, this is a sweeping generalization, and so not entirely true, but you know what I mean. So I find this reading-blogging sub-culture is really cool. I want to get sucked into this level of enthusiasm. So Chris is currently doing one challenge (among many) that encourages people to read 10 books from a list of 1001 "must reads," thus making themselves 1% more well read. Certainly a noble cause. I could benefit from something like this, I think. So I perused the list. Many titles--er, most titles--are pretty unknown to me. And the ones I chose, I confess, are largely on my to read list anyway. And I'm not sure I can really do something like this--too many other things going on. But if I were to choose, and if cheating were permitted (that is, choosing with an eye to the "useful" or "things I planned to read anyway"), I would choose the following:

1) The Hours – Michael Cunningham
2) Memoirs of a Geisha – Arthur Golden
3) The Name of the Rose – Umberto Eco
4) If On a Winter’s Night a Traveler – Italo Calvino
5) A Passage to India – E.M. Forster
6) Jacob’s Room – Virginia Woolf
7) Ulysses – James Joyce
8) Tono-Bungay – H.G. Wells
9) Ficciones – Jorge Luis Borges
10) The Book of Laughter and Forgetting – Milan Kundera

Only the last one is a complete unknown to me. Sounds intriguing, though. I want to keep my eye on these book challenges--and get motivated & excited & stuff!--and I actually signed up for real for a different challenge that I'm behind on, so I'll talk more about that soon! I've got an idea for a Lenten book challenge for next year--Catholic must-reads of various types: choose one book of apologetics, one of fiction, one encyclical. . . you get the idea! If you have suggestions, let me know!

Another Book Meme!!

Courtesy of Chris, who didn't know if I'd be able to finish this one before Lent. Clearly he underestimates my procrastination! ;) This one's easier than it looks. But I have to ask those people I tag to pleeease answer it before Lent so I can read it!!! ;) Either that, or email the answers! So this is Eva's Reading Meme:

Which book do you irrationally cringe away from reading, despite seeing only positive reviews?

Ulysses? No, that's not irrational. . . I know there's one that I'm not thinking of, but I can't put my finger on it.

Perhaps House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros. . .

There are more, I'm sure of it!

If you could bring three characters to life for a social event (afternoon tea, a night of clubbing, perhaps a world cruise), who would they be and what would the event be?

The vengeful answer: I would bring Stephen Daedalus, Leonard Bast, and Septimus Smith for a class in literary theory taught by a professor who deserves the "challenge." (suppresses wicked laughter)

I was trying to think of some wise, long-lived characters. . . Treebeard, Oisin (Celtic, from Yeats' poetry), but I get stuck on #3. . .

I know! Orlando, Dorian Grey and Lazarus Long at a Revival meeting or on Boubon Street for Mardi Gras. . .

Clearly, my mind is a bit warped right now!

(Borrowing shamelessly from the Thursday Next series by Jasper Fforde): you are told you can’t die until you read the most boring novel on the planet. While this immortality is great for awhile, eventually you realize it’s past time to die. Which book would you expect to get you a nice grave?

Moby Dick.

Come on, we’ve all been there. Which book have you pretended, or at least hinted, that you’ve read, when in fact you’ve been nowhere near it?

Toni Morrison's Beloved. Even tried to read it while teaching it one semester. Didn't happen. And oh so many things that have been assigned over the years, from Death of a Salesman in high school on down to the Ph.D. reading list. Usually I admit to not reading them, but not always--especially when grades are involved. There. Now you know what a slacker I am!!!

As an addition to the last question, has there been a book that you really thought you had read, only to realize when you read a review about it/go to ‘reread’ it that you haven’t?

I always get Love in the Time of Cholera confused with Of Love and Other Demons. Specifically, I told Chris I had read the former, thinking that it was the latter. Oops!!

You’re interviewing for the post of Official Book Advisor to some VIP (who’s not a big reader). What’s the first book you’d recommend and why? (if you feel like you’d have to know the person, go ahead and personalize the VIP)

Lord of the Rings. I know, probably not fair using the same one twice (see below). Not because it's practically useful. Then I might choose The Republic or The Prince, or even Mill's On Liberty. But there's a sense of heroism, amid almost certain defeat, or victory that contains elements of defeat, that is simply unfathomable to so many people today. I was actually thinking about this as a Disney preschool show was coming on this morning (before I could get to the remote control): "Higgleytown Heroes." The premise is that everyone--even those who do the most mundane jobs--are heroes because they provide a service to other people. Ummmm. . . in a word, No. Just no.

A good fairy comes and grants you one wish: you will have perfect reading comprehension in the foreign language of your choice. Which language do you go with?

I would have to go with Spanish. I sneered at Spanish and was a French snob in high school and college, before meeting my husband, who is fluent and has an M.A. in Spanish. When we were dating, he introduced me to Spanish literature, poetry in particular. So many times when he was in his Master's program, I wished that I could have taken the classes he was taking--again, mostly poetry, but also nineteenth and twentieth century Peninsular literature (as in, from the Peninsula--Spain--in case you didn't think I was still a European language snob!) and Octavio Paz. I would also like to do some comparisons between Spanish and English literature within my time period.

A mischievous fairy comes and says that you must choose one book that you will reread once a year for the rest of your life (you can read other books as well). Which book would you pick?

Ahem. Lord of the Rings. I practically do this anyway (though I'm not teaching myself to speak elvish or anything. . .) I find it an inspirational book in many ways. I first read it as an adult--rather recently, actually--so my attachment to it is different from the books I read/reread as a child/adolescent (The Chronicles of Narnia and The Mists of Avalon, in case you were wondering--all fantasy; hmmm. . .) Should I expound? Naaah. There's just so much there. Besides, I would get to pick out the misprints in different editions.

I know that the book blogging community, and its various challenges, have pushed my reading borders. What’s one bookish thing you ‘discovered’ from book blogging (maybe a new genre, or author, or new appreciation for cover art-anything)?

Well, while book blogs tend to remind me, sadly, of when I was young and not in graduate school and liked to read and read profusely, making me painfully aware that I don't read nearly enough, especially for someone in my discipline (though many people in my discipline arguably read more criticism than primary works) there are two books I learned of recently from bloggers that I would like to read:

The History of Our World Beyond the Wave by R. E. Klein (sadly out-of-print) reviewed here by Darwin

Kristin Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset, discussed recently by Melanie.

That good fairy is back for one final visit. Now, she’s granting you your dream library! Describe it. Is everything leatherbound? Is it full of first edition hardcovers? Pristine trade paperbacks? Perhaps a few favourite authors have inscribed their works? Go ahead-let your imagination run free.

Without a doubt, a first edition of The Hobbit before Tolkien revised the "Riddles in the Dark" chapter. In fact, first editions of Lord of the Rings, too. I'm well on my way to having all interesting illustrated editions, so that's a given. I would like a collection of really extravagant art books--specific eras, artists, and overviews, all with extensive color plates. And some small press books with woodcuts, from Kelmscott Press, for example.


As for nominations--Darwin, Mrs. Darwin, Melanie, and whoever else would like to join in! (I would tag some others--you know who you are--but isn't there some kind of rule about waiting a reasonable time before tagging the same person?)

Overdue Meme

I was tagged by Darwin! This may have been my first meme, but it bears repeating every 6 months or so, I think. So here goes:

Book Meme Rules

1. Pick up the nearest book ( of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.

Aldous Huxley's Proper Studies is the nearest book. My husband checked it out of the library for me (handy that he works there) after it was mentioned in an article I was reading. Page 123 is in the middle of an essay titled "Education":

"A child may grow into a mental cripple or paralytic without suffering anything worse than boredom and fatigue. The fact is unfortunate. If children suffered agonies from the process of mental distortion at the hands of their pastors, if the stupid and mechanical teaching of German grammar or arithmetic actually made them scream with pain, we should by this time have learned something about right education. Finding themselves liable to prosecution by the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children, bad teachers would soon mend their ways."

[Okay, I cheated and copied 4 sentences! But really, that last one was hard to resist.]

So because the dissertation deals with literacy, which wasn't always talked about as such, "education" is a relevant topic for me, though often discussed more generally than is useful.

So I tag: Entropy at Sphere of Influence, Sarah at just another day of Catholic pondering, Jen at Et-tu? (oops, Darwin tagged her, too!), Anastasia, and Chris at Stuff as Dreams are Made On!

Book Recommendations?

I don't read parenting books. Having said this, can anyone recommend any sensible ones (Catholic or generic) on parenting toddlers?? Or if not, could fellow-bloggers ask for recommendations from their readers? Thanks! This is blogging-as-support group, I think. . .

Books!! & other ways of passing the time. . .

On Saturday we took a small road trip to one of our favorite places to spend a lot of money: Borders!!! Now, not all Borders were created equal. In fact, when Borders came to New Orleans, there was disappointment all around, I think. And we have seen Borders ranging from the awesome (Ann Arbor) to pathetic (Houston) and everything (but not everywhere) in between. This particular Borders is about 1 1/2 hours away, and worth the trip. I was the one who wanted to go. This has been fairly rare, I must admit--part of my overall "crisis of literacy" (and not the one that I'm writing about in the dissertation). You see, for someone who wholeheartedly believes in the importance and value of reading to the human person, I have done painfully little of it for the past few years. I have had little motivation to pick up a book, especially a book I had never read before. Especially fiction. I did find time for some religious works, and have particularly enjoyed reading conversion stories. I would quip, "Graduate school will do that," and I believe that's true to a degree. I couldn't even really browse in a bookstore--I had no idea what to look for!! And on a level, it pained me. On another level, I was consumed by deep frustration and even a little apathy.

The good news is, this is passing, or has passed. I have read more books this year than in many recent years. Some have been children's books--okay, MANY have been children's books!! Most have been fantasy. It is possible that all have been fantasy (except the dissertation books, and I'm not sure how rereading Sons and Lovers for a chapter counts. . .) But at any rate, I have been reading, and I went to a bookstore, and with real enjoyment, picked out books that I actually want to read--some for me and some for my son. And as an extra bonus, I got a 25% educator discount!!!

So these were our purchases:

• for the toddler: Learn Shapes with Frog (shaped like a frog, and she recently learned to say "frog" even though daddy & mommy insist on saying "froggy") and The Crayola Rainbow Colors Book. (She also got a "duck"--as she says instead of "ducky"--which is actually a TY goose from the Charlotte's Web movie. Cute!)

• for the 10-year-old: Time Cat by Lloyd Alexander, Bed-Knob and Broomstick by Mary Norton (of Borrowers fame), and Here Be Monsters! by Alan Snow, which seems to be written in the Roald Dahl tradition. Two we put back are Stowaway by Karen Hesse and Robert Andrew Parker (because we couldn't get everything) and The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick, which I've been looking at for months because it looks so compelling and postmodern (in a good way).

• for the husband: (and for the Tolkien collection) The Return of the Shadow by J. R. R. Tolkien, because we (though not me so much) are actively building up our collection of the back histories. I find them interesting in a scholarly way, but difficult to read cover-to-cover. I'm all for collecting them, though!

• for me: A Penguin Deluxe edition of Lady Chatterly's Lover, which really wouldn't be anything interesting, except that it has very amusing (and kind of pathetic) cartoons about D. H. Lawrence's life all over the cover. So really, I bought it more for the cover than for the text, but it really was worth it!! And I also bought a fantasy novel called City of Saints and Madmen by Jeff Vandermeer. I've never heard of Vandermeer, but the back blurb claims that he "has reinvented the literature of the fantastic." What was really interesting to me, though, was not the novelty, though that's what initially caught my attention; rather, the book has a "feel" of Italo Calvino's Invisible Cities. It definitely seems postmodern, perhaps less well-organized than Calvino's (Calvino was, after all, a genius), and involves intertwining stories. It is a city of "elegance and squalor. Of religious fervor and wanton lusts. And everywhere, on the walls of courtyards and churches, and incandescent fungus of mysterious and ominous origins." And that's not even mentioning characters! I hope it lives up to its blurb without being confusing and pointless (a definite danger with postmodernism!).

All in all, a happy book-buying excursion! ;) Now I have to find time to read! I'm supposed to be polishing off chapter 4 of the dissertation this week, after I prep for my class for the next few weeks. I have a doctor's appointment Monday (and here begin the weekly visits), and I will see if my doctor thinks I can safely go to the Renaissance Festival next Saturday!! I hadn't been thinking of going, but then it occurred to me--if I can go on a shopping trip this weekend, why not a festival next? I only feel pregnant when I'm trying to sleep and have to sit up to change positions, and when I have periodic fits of exhaustion during the day. Other than that, I just feel like. . . me! ;)

Crazy, Weird Book Quiz

Courtesy of Entropy, who tagged me, and without whom I would have no posts this week! ;) This quiz IS very much like a Choose Your Own Adventure book, and is an interesting way to keep yourself busy on the internet! So if you're bored, or procrastinating (have I mentioned that I start teaching again on Tuesday??), feel free to play along! I would particularly like Chris to try this one 6 or 7 times! ;)

Some various results:

Never read this one, actually. Animal allegories aren't really my thing. Or books that masquerade as children's books but are really something else. Or maybe I'm just closed minded. A lot of people I know liked this book, but a lot hated it, too. . .

You're Watership Down!

by Richard Adams

Though many think of you as a bit young, even childish, you're
actually incredibly deep and complex. You show people the need to rethink their
assumptions, and confront them on everything from how they think to where they
build their houses. You might be one of the greatest people of all time. You'd
be recognized as such if you weren't always talking about talking rabbits.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

This one I read. I believe I read it when I was an undergrad and it was a Book-of-the-Month club selection. Back then, I was eager to read anything and everything. Wonder what happened? Oh yeah, grad school. . .

You're Love in the Time of Cholera!

by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Like Odysseus in a work of Homer, you demonstrate undying loyalty by
sleeping with as many people as you possibly can. But in your heart you never give
consent! This creates a strange quandary of what love really means to you. On the
one hand, you've loved the same person your whole life, but on the other, your actions
barely speak to this fact. Whatever you do, stick to bottled water. The other stuff
could get you killed.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

I read this one in high school. I really, really enjoyed it. I guess this may have been my first introduction to postcolonial theory, as we read this one alongside Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe and briefly mentioned the difference between a white South African and a black South African writing about the native experience. I preferred Paton. The book is haunting & poetic.

You're Cry, the Beloved Country!

by Alan Paton

Life is exceedingly difficult right now, especially when you put more
miles between yourself and your hometown. But with all sorts of personal and profound
convictions, you are able to keep a level head and still try to help folks, no matter
how much they harm you. You walk through a land of natural beauty and daily horror. In
the end, far too much is a matter of black and white.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Ugh! Blech! American lit! Okay, no one can deny that Twain is bright & influential, but I really found it a chore to get through this book. And our American lit class in high school conspired to distract our teacher from talking about the book so that our discussion of Huck Finn carried on for the entire nine-week period. We didn't do ourselves any favors.

You're Adventures of Huckleberry Finn!

by Mark Twain

With an affinity for floating down the river, you see things in black
and white. The world is strange and new to you and the more you learn about it, the less
it makes sense. You probably speak with an accent and others have a hard time
understanding you and an even harder time taking you seriously. Nevertheless, your
adventurous spirit is admirable. You really like straw hats.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

I am a bit embarrassed by this one. I believe I have long since discarded my copy with the very personal marks in the margins. Another that I read in high school. And reread. And reread again. And dressed like the main character for Halloween. And identified with this book. And finally realized that I had gotten everything out of it that I possibly could, and let it go. Though I never believed in the whole "goddess worship" thing, I was absorbed enough to wish that the alternate religion were real. The book fed into my disgust with Christianity and perpetuated it. Besides that there were a lot of juicy sex scenes. *sigh* My depraved youth. . .

You're The Mists of Avalon!

by Marion Zimmer Bradley

You're obsessed with Camelot in all its forms, from Arthurian legend
to the Kennedy administration. Your favorite movie from childhood was "The Sword in
the Stone". But more than tales of wizardry and Cuban missiles, you've focused on
women. You know that they truly hold all the power. You always wished you could meet
Jackie Kennedy.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Sad that there's only one question's difference between The Mists of Avalon and Ulysses. But when you consider that the focus of each is really ego... I knew the last one was heading to Joyce, so I backed up & changed my answer on "stream of consciousness." Way to cheat!!! And no, I have not read Ulysses. I plan to avoid reading Ulysses as long as possible. I did try once, a long, long time ago. . . Dubliners is more my speed, really.

You're Ulysses!

by James Joyce

Most people are convinced that you don't make any sense, but compared
to what else you could say, what you're saying now makes tons of sense. What people do
understand about you is your vulgarity, which has convinced people that you are at once
brilliant and repugnant. Meanwhile you are content to wander around aimlessly, taking in
the sights and sounds of the city. What you see is vast, almost limitless, and brings you
additional fame. When no one is looking, you dream of being a Greek folk hero.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

And, taking the test one more time:

You're Prufrock and Other Observations!

by T.S. Eliot

Though you are very short and often overshadowed, your voice is poetic
and lyrical. Dark and brooding, you see the world as a hopeless effort of people trying
to impress other people. Though you make reference to almost everything, you've really
heard enough about Michelangelo. You measure out your life with coffee spoons.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

I do love Eliot. Anyone else remember the Crash Test Dummies song, "Afternoons and Coffee Spoons"? When I worked at a coffee shop as an undergrad, I had a shirt advertising the coffee shop (and probably commemorating an anniversary) with the quote "I heave measured out my life with coffee spoons." Only they misquoted it as, "measured out my life in coffee spoons." So I corrected it. On the shirt. And wore it that way. (Geek!)

What I find interesting here is that my results seem fairly firmly 20th century. Perhaps all of the results are. . . Well, at least there are 2 Modernists, here! And no Virginia Woolf!

Thanks, Entropy, for the fun! ;)

Tagged again!

Entropy tagged me with this meme:

Grab the nearest book.

Open it to page 161.
Find the fifth full sentence.
Post the text of the sentence along with these instructions.
Don't search around looking for the coolest book you can find. Do what's actually next to you.

Interestingly, the first book next to me doesn't go up to p. 161. It's Hugh Kenner's The Mechanic Muse, about the influence of the typewriter on Modernism. It's one of the only books in the living room that isn't packed at the moment, and this meme has reminded me that I need to cite it in the dissertation so I can get it back to the graduate student who has it checked out and graciously lent it to me! (It has 131 pages.)

So, to compensate, I will refer to the next 2 closest books:

"Not only are today's maternity clothes a lot more interesting and practical to wear, but pregnant women can supplement and mix-and-match these specialized purchases with a variety of other items that they can continue to wear even after they get their shape back."
(I suppose that's their collective shape? Don't multiple pregnant women have more than one shape?)

and

"He led the sheep up the stairs, and then step by step he tugged and boosted her upward."
(No, really, it's a children's book--Farmer Boy, actually!)

Pretty funny stuff!

I tag both Darwins, who, I assume, sit in different places when they blog, and Chris, who had better post the answer before he leaves for Mexico! Also, Academama, who should have something interesting to add to this meme! I would have tagged "C," who posts under the tag "john," but she does not have a blog!! (dare I add, yet?)

Thanks, Entropy!

Tagged for the First Time!

(Sounds naughty, doesn't it?) But here it is, and Mrs. Darwin tagged me:

Booked by 3 Meme

Name up to three characters . . .

1) . . . you wish were real so you could meet them.

1. Treebeard (Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien)
2. the Jesuit priest from "The Star" by Arthur C. Clarke
3. Mustapha Mond (Huxley's Brave New World)

2) . . . you would like to be. The hardest part about this is choosing women.

1. Yavanna, wife of Aulë, creator of the trees Telperion and Laurelin (The Silmarillion by J. R. R. Tolkien)
2. Elizabeth Dalloway, daughter of Clarissa Dalloway (Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway), but only temporarily. I mean, where was she that day? Besides riding on the top of an omnibus?
   
3. the boy (from Forster's "Celestial Omnibus")

At one point I would have written, without hesitation:

1. Morgaine (from The Mists of Avalon by Marian Zimmer Bradley)
2. Nicholas or Armand (from The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice)
3. Dorian Grey (from Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Grey)

My, how people do change!!

3) . . . who scare you.

1. Duke Ferrara (from "My Last Duchess" by Robert Browning, though he might just be historical...)
2. Lazarus Long (whom I'd like to meet, but only for conversation!)
   
3. Stephen Daedalus (from Joyce's A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man)
   

These were really, really hard, btw.

I tag:

1. Chris from Stuff as Dreams are Made On
   
2. Entropy from Sphere of Influence
3. Sarah of Mommy, Ph.D. (whenever she gets a chance!)
   

Audiobooks, Books & Literacy

My thoughts have dried up somewhat over the past few days--perhaps in contrast to the wet weather. I have started a few thoughts, but did not finish. This at least may prevent me from being too hard on my composition students this semester, who will be writing blogs as part of their daily/homework grades. To fill in the gaps, a few collections of words. . .

Today, to test out our new DSL connection (yay! no more dialup!), my husband was looking through the iTunes Latino audiobooks store. I found several of the top 10 downloads rather inspiring:

2) Don Quijote
4) Pablo Neruda reading his own work
5) The Little Prince by Antoine De Saint-Exupery
6) The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros
8) The Illiad
9) 1001 Arabian Nights

The English language top 10 in the U.S. iTunes store are not so inspiring:

1) Stephen Colbert at the White House Correspondents' Dinner
2) How to Make People Like You by Nicholas Boothman
3) The Art of Happiness by the Dalai Lama
4) The Audacity of Hope by Barak Obama
5) Plum Lovin' by Janet Evanovich
6) The Funny Thing is by Ellen Degeneres
7) The Secret by Rhonda Byrne
8) Rich Dad, Poor Dad:What the Rich Teach their Kids about Money - That the Poor and Middle Class Do Not!
9) How to Not Suck at Sales
10) This American Life: A Very Special David Sedaris Christmas

I suppose both lists may have one element in common: they may demonstrate that those who are downloading them have some kind of impulse toward self-improvement, though I would venture that the term would be defined differently in each case. However, in the case of one of the lists, pure aesthetic enjoyment could as easily be a motive for listening. How few on the second list are fiction! I am struck in particular by number 8. I would like to see the book titled, What Those Who Have Had to Live Without Money Can Teach Those Who Have Had Too Much of It. When it is published, I hope to be notified.

It strikes me that audiobook downloads are a marker of something that is not quite literacy, but is related. Listening to an audiobook requires a different level of time commitment than reading. It may be accomplished during a commute, a road-trip, a cross-country drive. . . My family has developed a ritual for road-trips. Listening to Tolkien. With weeks in between, we listen more or less sequentially to all of the books of The Lord of the Rings, which my husband and I have read multiple times each. At times, I may select a "moment" of Middle Earth and start from there.

Having read the book, I am able to listen to the book; I can not listen to a book I have not read. My first experience of audiobooks was disorienting, at best. Traveling to a conference with a friend and her husband, I listened with them to mysteries--something set in the South and involving lawyers, Grisham perhaps. I admit that this is not my taste in books, but I was literally spatially disoriented. I could not imagine being able to locate a sentence--even a scene!--in a book that was only heard and not read. I believe that the experience is one of "secondary orality," as I understand Walter Ong's term--scripted orality, speech that can be replayed. I confess to be utterly dependent on language made visible.

My other thoughts are also book-related--one disturbing, one pleasing. The first is a Christian teen book titled something like One God, Many Churches. In the future, I will try to avoid titles which, in 'hip' language, try to explain denominational differences. For me, for now, the offending phrase is the equation of "Sacraments" with "rituals."

I have been reading a book I discovered while looking for reading material for my 4th grade son. It is perhaps a bit dark for him, but I am enjoying it--The City of Ember by Jeanne DuPrau, an odd science fiction that reminds me, vaguely, of the "feel" of Italo Calvino's Invisible Cities. The city in the book--a city in darkness whose lights are failing--reminds me of one Calvino may have written. It feels real, somehow surreal. I look forward to reading more, which is unusual of late! (at any rate, for fiction)