I updated my Books, Books, Books post with another list, which has some different titles... I clearly have to read faster and up the number of books I've read!
That said, I'm really enjoying Eat Fat by Richard Klein at the moment. Not your ordinary take on overweight people, that's for sure. I suspect I'll be re-reading it and making notes!
Showing posts with label Book Reviews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Book Reviews. Show all posts
Saturday, 15 August 2009
Tuesday, 27 January 2009
Postscript
I forgot to mention, I was out last week wandering round charity shops with Harriet and I bought a few books (like I don't have enough already). One of which was Nicholson Baker - A Box of Matches.
I really love Nicholson Baker, I adore his writing style and after finishing The Pillars Of The Earth I needed something easy to move on with. A rebound book if you like. Anyway, this was just wonderful. I love how easily he writes, describing the day to day thoughts that most of us have, it's a real skill to observe people so closely.
Even down to the way he describes trying to make a fart quieter is just so wonderful.
I read this in two days and loved every moment.
It does have to be said that some of his books are a little... err... adult in nature, but then he can slip so easily back into those observations in this or even in something like The Everlasting Story of Nory, where he writes as an 8 year old little girl. I loved that, remembering and imagining their view of the world.
And now Room Temperature pops into mind, another wonderful work of observations.
I'm rambling but I was so chuffed to find that book, as I didn't know it was even published, so now it's time for bed and time to choose a new book from the shelf...
I really love Nicholson Baker, I adore his writing style and after finishing The Pillars Of The Earth I needed something easy to move on with. A rebound book if you like. Anyway, this was just wonderful. I love how easily he writes, describing the day to day thoughts that most of us have, it's a real skill to observe people so closely.
Even down to the way he describes trying to make a fart quieter is just so wonderful.
I read this in two days and loved every moment.
It does have to be said that some of his books are a little... err... adult in nature, but then he can slip so easily back into those observations in this or even in something like The Everlasting Story of Nory, where he writes as an 8 year old little girl. I loved that, remembering and imagining their view of the world.
And now Room Temperature pops into mind, another wonderful work of observations.
I'm rambling but I was so chuffed to find that book, as I didn't know it was even published, so now it's time for bed and time to choose a new book from the shelf...
Sunday, 25 January 2009
Growing & Walking
I decided that it was finally time to address the chaos that is my garage yesterday and also the chaos that is my garden. I plainly woke up feeling industrious and it had nothing to do with finishing the book I so deeply love. (Well maybe I was avoiding finishing it just a little, I couldn't bear for it to be over.)
Anyway, as I flailed with a trowel on my hands and knees a neighbour sauntered past and asked if I was getting some early veg in.
No, some late bulbs.
He then asked if I'd heard about the allotments they were creating in my village.
No I bloody hadn't! Ten half plots!
Is it weird that I am unnaturally excited by this?
I'm ringing first thing in the morning to get my name down for one of those wee plots so please, pretty please all keep your fingers crossed!
Also, last week I became aware of this awesome website: landshare.
What a brilliant idea. If you own a good plot of land, let someone grow veg on it and the rental for which will be produce. If you don't have any land, put your name down to please borrow some of someone elses.
If I'm not able to get one of the plots in the village and my landlord is iffy about my digging up some of my lawn then this is the perfect solution!
Anyway, on another note, my friend Rachael and I went out for a walk today. We joined up with the Young Ramblers for what, Rachael assured me, was going to be an amble. After the first few hundred metres I knew I was in trouble. I simply couldn't keep up to their pace.
I'm only a scratch over 5 feet and have particularly stumpy legs.
It was also incredibly wet and muddy. By the end of the walk the mud was literally to my knees. Partly due to the sudden immersion of my left leg in a mud patch that was much deeper than it appeared. That mud patch also had ideas about my boot and tried desperately to wrench it from my foot. But it was foiled, not only had I laced my boots so tight that my toes felt a little numb, it was also impossible to remove - which by the way, was much less funny when I actually wanted to remove them when I got home.
And which meant I also had to drop my jeans in my conservatory.
Which is immediately next to the footpath. And road.
Quite how I managed not to indecently flash anyone is the product of pure luck. Their luck, not mine.
Anyway, I jump ahead.
I'm stumpy and squat as we've mentioned, I am not built for speed, I'm just not. The combination of big boobs and stumpy legs just doesn't equate to an aerodynamic shape.
As evidenced the last time I ran for a bus. Which is still mentioned. Despite the fact that my boyfriend at the time has been happily married to his wife for some years now - which happened after we broke up - just for clarification!
He still mentions my selfless act, as I lay, bleeding (not broken thankfully) and I looked up at him, knowing he would be late for work and said "Go, Leave me here."
Had he actually done that, I'm not entirely sure what I'd have done. He didn't though, he helped me limp my way back to his house as I sniffled.
Anyway, there were a lot of people on that bus that would be happy to testify I am not built for speed. Although I am built for a comfortable landing. Which is lucky really.
Goodness I'm in a world of digression today.
I told Rachael that was my first and last excursion with the young ramblers. I clearly need to be in the OAP group. Which is fine by me. I feel like I'm ageing too fast anyway.
Harriet has started drinking Apple Cider Vinegar as it's said to be good for you, possibly a little anti-ageing, maybe I need to try that too.
Yesterday evening I finally gave in and finished my book: The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett. I don't understand how the building of a cathedral can be so completely absorbing. It must be the way he built the characters, you come to care for them or hate them, at times I found myself willing some of them to be killed. When literature can inspire that kind of feeling I think you have a skilled author. I know this is outside his usual realm of writing and I'm pleased he went for it.
I first heard about the book on Oprah and she raved about it so much, she went on to interview Ken Follett and he talked about how he'd wanted to write the book for years but that his publishers weren't really interested.
I can't even begin to explain how awesome this book is. I wanted to do nothing but read it, whilst also wanting it to never end.
At one point in the book he skips a period of years and I felt like I wanted to hear about every mundane thing that happened to those characters in that time.
I found myself completely absorbed by this tale of the Middle Ages, how they behaved, how they ate and drank. It was absolutely fascinating.
I want everyone to read it, because having read it feels like one of the best gifts I ever had.
Anyway, as I flailed with a trowel on my hands and knees a neighbour sauntered past and asked if I was getting some early veg in.
No, some late bulbs.
He then asked if I'd heard about the allotments they were creating in my village.
No I bloody hadn't! Ten half plots!
Is it weird that I am unnaturally excited by this?
I'm ringing first thing in the morning to get my name down for one of those wee plots so please, pretty please all keep your fingers crossed!
Also, last week I became aware of this awesome website: landshare.
What a brilliant idea. If you own a good plot of land, let someone grow veg on it and the rental for which will be produce. If you don't have any land, put your name down to please borrow some of someone elses.
If I'm not able to get one of the plots in the village and my landlord is iffy about my digging up some of my lawn then this is the perfect solution!
Anyway, on another note, my friend Rachael and I went out for a walk today. We joined up with the Young Ramblers for what, Rachael assured me, was going to be an amble. After the first few hundred metres I knew I was in trouble. I simply couldn't keep up to their pace.
I'm only a scratch over 5 feet and have particularly stumpy legs.
It was also incredibly wet and muddy. By the end of the walk the mud was literally to my knees. Partly due to the sudden immersion of my left leg in a mud patch that was much deeper than it appeared. That mud patch also had ideas about my boot and tried desperately to wrench it from my foot. But it was foiled, not only had I laced my boots so tight that my toes felt a little numb, it was also impossible to remove - which by the way, was much less funny when I actually wanted to remove them when I got home.
And which meant I also had to drop my jeans in my conservatory.
Which is immediately next to the footpath. And road.
Quite how I managed not to indecently flash anyone is the product of pure luck. Their luck, not mine.
Anyway, I jump ahead.
I'm stumpy and squat as we've mentioned, I am not built for speed, I'm just not. The combination of big boobs and stumpy legs just doesn't equate to an aerodynamic shape.
As evidenced the last time I ran for a bus. Which is still mentioned. Despite the fact that my boyfriend at the time has been happily married to his wife for some years now - which happened after we broke up - just for clarification!
He still mentions my selfless act, as I lay, bleeding (not broken thankfully) and I looked up at him, knowing he would be late for work and said "Go, Leave me here."
Had he actually done that, I'm not entirely sure what I'd have done. He didn't though, he helped me limp my way back to his house as I sniffled.
Anyway, there were a lot of people on that bus that would be happy to testify I am not built for speed. Although I am built for a comfortable landing. Which is lucky really.
Goodness I'm in a world of digression today.
I told Rachael that was my first and last excursion with the young ramblers. I clearly need to be in the OAP group. Which is fine by me. I feel like I'm ageing too fast anyway.
Harriet has started drinking Apple Cider Vinegar as it's said to be good for you, possibly a little anti-ageing, maybe I need to try that too.
Yesterday evening I finally gave in and finished my book: The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett. I don't understand how the building of a cathedral can be so completely absorbing. It must be the way he built the characters, you come to care for them or hate them, at times I found myself willing some of them to be killed. When literature can inspire that kind of feeling I think you have a skilled author. I know this is outside his usual realm of writing and I'm pleased he went for it.
I first heard about the book on Oprah and she raved about it so much, she went on to interview Ken Follett and he talked about how he'd wanted to write the book for years but that his publishers weren't really interested.
I can't even begin to explain how awesome this book is. I wanted to do nothing but read it, whilst also wanting it to never end.
At one point in the book he skips a period of years and I felt like I wanted to hear about every mundane thing that happened to those characters in that time.
I found myself completely absorbed by this tale of the Middle Ages, how they behaved, how they ate and drank. It was absolutely fascinating.
I want everyone to read it, because having read it feels like one of the best gifts I ever had.
Monday, 19 January 2009
Books, Books, Books
A friend of mine was talking to me about the list of essential reads that's doing the rounds at the moment, I hadn't seen it so he sent it on to me and I thought I'd put it here as I do so love to read and I'm curious about everyone else's opinion of it.
The ones I've read are in bold and the ones in italics are on the shelf waiting to be read!
1. The Lord of the Rings, JRR Tolkien
2. Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen
3. His Dark Materials, Philip Pullman (the first part is on the shelf!)
4. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams
5. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, JK Rowling
6. To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee
7. Winnie the Pooh, AA Milne
8. Nineteen Eighty-Four, George Orwell
9. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, CS Lewis
10. Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë
11. Catch-22, Joseph Heller
12. Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë
13. Birdsong, Sebastian Faulks
14. Rebecca, Daphne du Maurier
15. The Catcher in the Rye, JD Salinger
16. The Wind in the Willows, Kenneth Grahame
17. Great Expectations, Charles Dickens
18. Little Women, Louisa May Alcott
19. Captain Corelli's Mandolin, Louis de Bernieres
20. War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy
21. Gone with the Wind, Margaret Mitchell
22. Harry Potter And The Philosopher's Stone, JK Rowling
23. Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets, JK Rowling
24. Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban, JK Rowling
25. The Hobbit, JRR Tolkien
26. Tess Of The D'Urbervilles, Thomas Hardy
27. Middlemarch, George Eliot
28. A Prayer For Owen Meany, John Irving
29. The Grapes Of Wrath, John Steinbeck
30. Alice's Adventures In Wonderland, Lewis Carroll
31. The Story Of Tracy Beaker, Jacqueline Wilson
32. One Hundred Years Of Solitude, Gabriel García Márquez
33. The Pillars Of The Earth, Ken Follett
34. David Copperfield, Charles Dickens
35. Charlie And The Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl
36. Treasure Island, Robert Louis Stevenson
37. A Town Like Alice, Nevil Shute
38. Persuasion, Jane Austen
39. Dune, Frank Herbert
40. Emma, Jane Austen
41. Anne Of Green Gables, LM Montgomery
42. Watership Down, Richard Adams
43. The Great Gatsby, F Scott Fitzgerald
44. The Count Of Monte Cristo, Alexandre Dumas
45. Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn Waugh
46. Animal Farm, George Orwell
47. A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens
48. Far From The Madding Crowd, Thomas Hardy
49. Goodnight Mister Tom, Michelle Magorian
50. The Shell Seekers, Rosamunde Pilcher
51. The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett
52. Of Mice And Men, John Steinbeck
53. The Stand, Stephen King
54. Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy
55. A Suitable Boy, Vikram Seth
56. The BFG, Roald Dahl
57. Swallows And Amazons, Arthur Ransome
58. Black Beauty, Anna Sewell
59. Artemis Fowl, Eoin Colfer
60. Crime And Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky
61. Noughts And Crosses, Malorie Blackman
62. Memoirs Of A Geisha, Arthur Golden
63. A Tale Of Two Cities, Charles Dickens
64. The Thorn Birds, Colleen McCollough
65. Mort, Terry Pratchett
66. The Magic Faraway Tree, Enid Blyton
67. The Magus, John Fowles
68. Good Omens, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman
69. Guards! Guards!, Terry Pratchett
70. Lord Of The Flies, William Golding
71. Perfume, Patrick Süskind
72. The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists, Robert Tressell
73. Night Watch, Terry Pratchett
74. Matilda, Roald Dahl
75. Bridget Jones's Diary, Helen Fielding
76. The Secret History, Donna Tartt
77. The Woman In White, Wilkie Collins
78. Ulysses, James Joyce
79. Bleak House, Charles Dickens
80. Double Act, Jacqueline Wilson
81. The Twits, Roald Dahl
82. I Capture The Castle, Dodie Smith
83. Holes, Louis Sachar
84. Gormenghast, Mervyn Peake
85. The God Of Small Things, Arundhati Roy
86. Vicky Angel, Jacqueline Wilson
87. Brave New World, Aldous Huxley
88. Cold Comfort Farm, Stella Gibbons
89. Magician, Raymond E Feist
90. On The Road, Jack Kerouac
91. The Godfather, Mario Puzo
92. The Clan Of The Cave Bear, Jean M Auel
93. The Colour Of Magic, Terry Pratchett
94. The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho
95. Katherine, Anya Seton
96. Kane And Abel, Jeffrey Archer
97. Love In The Time Of Cholera, Gabriel García Márquez
98. Girls In Love, Jacqueline Wilson
99. The Princess Diaries, Meg Cabot
100. Midnight's Children, Salman Rushdie
So here's my questions; there are a lot of duplications on there to my mind, in fact I counted and if we were to just select a single novel by each author, there'd be 25 spaces in that list. I realise it's almost impossible to choose which one to keep, but my question here is, if there were 25 empty spaces, what would fill them?
I really think that The Reader by Bernhard Schlink should be there. I love that book and will be avoiding the movie as I'm not sure that it can live up to my imagination, no matter how great the actors involved.
I also wish that Iain Banks, Jeanette Winterson and Margaret Atwood were featured somewhere in the list.
Who else is missing? Which books did you look for and were surprised not to see in the list?
Another question; of the books that I haven't changed to bold or italics, which should I absolutely be placing on my nightstand and preparing to read?
And another question, are there any in the list that you've read and hated? Are there any that you feel really don't deserve a place?
I do have to say that I am absolutely loving reading The Pillars of the Earth, it's just brilliant, excellent, wonderful. I'm on the edge of my seat at times and was almost in tears earlier whilst completely engaged in the story.
If you get chance, pick it up and read it, you can thank me later!
UPDATE: 24.01.09 Finished The Pillars Of The Earth. Awesome. That's all I have. I want to read it again and I am deeply envious of everyone that hasn't read it. I even went to the Oprah site to do the quizzes on the book. Shut up. I'm addicted.
UPDATE: 22.05.09 Finished (11) Catch 22 by Joseph Heller, (13) Birdsong by Sebastian Faulks, (37) A Town Like Alice by Nevil Shute and have started Anna Karenina!
UPDATE: 15.08.09
I got a new list of books after the lovely Sleepydumpling mentioned it on Twitter.
So here goes:
01 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
02 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
03 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
04 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
05 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
06 The Bible
07 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
08 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
09 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Inferno – Dante
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web - EB White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo
I had a count up. In the first list I've read 37 and in the second I've read 38 of the books. I also counted that the two lists share 62 of the same titles.
I have similar niggles to the first list that some authors make repeat showings, well Dickens does but hey ho and also that both The complete works of Shakespeare and Hamlet feature. Surely the first encompasses the second?
I do love that the second list has The Wasp Factory, The Time Traveller's Wife, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime and Notes From a Small Island as I do so love those books!
Saturday, 27 December 2008
Christmas And All That Went Before
It has been a while!
I have been both poorly and busy. Which is not an ideal combination.
Christmas came at a very inconvenient time to be fair.
I managed to pick up a mean cold/cough type of bug and was laid out for a whole weekend. On the upside I got through lots of lovely television that I had recorded on the hard drive so it was a good use of time really.
When's all said and done though, I'd rather the snot monster went next door in future.
Anyway! It is a testament to what a good girl I am that I was very lucky at Christmas, Santa looked fondly on me.
In fact our whole house appeared to have been good all year judging by Santa's kindness.
All manner of lovely gifts had my name on them, I've been able to reduce the size of my wishlist somewhat and am very grateful!
I'm also planning to finally get some new tattoos done, which is quite exciting, although it'll take time as the tattooist is renowned for being booked up for ages and ages.
What am I saying? I'm really bloody excited about getting them done and talking to the tattooist about some designs I have in mind that I haven't been able to draw up myself.
I'm just taking a moment to jump up on my soapbox.
This morning I popped downstairs, remembering the men were coming to empty the bins and that I had several sacks of recycling in the boot that needed to go into my bins.
I ran downstairs and upon going outside realised that someone had moved my bins which I though was odd. Thinking little more of it, I opened the boot and took out the sacks. I hauled them to my bins. Opened my bins, which I knew to be virtually empty and discovered them to be full to the brim. It's just bloody rude. Everyone has their own bin, so why the hell do they think they have the right to fill mine up too? I hope they get nits. And other itchy ailments, preferably ones I won't catch. They're going on the list.
But seriously, how hard is it to knock on my door and ask if I mind them shoving all their crap in my bins. Maybe I should give them a key so they can use my fridge if they run out of room in theirs?
And breathe.
I've just finished reading The Llama Parlour by Kathy Lette.
What I most regret is that I'll never get back the time I wasted on that book.
What I also regret is that I am also hating the current book I'm reading, but after 300 pages I still feel an obligation to finish it, despite the fact the central characters are two of the most shallow women I've ever read about. There were a few funny lines at the beginning, but now I just hope it bucks a trend and there's a terribly unhappy ending. I can but hope.
I need some fire bricks so that I can put a grate in my fireplace, so that I can make kindling from these 'novels'.
As a belated Christmas gift to the world I am giving you these:
I admit I have a celebrity crush on Adam Savage. I can't help it. He makes me laugh!
And that has to be my favourite explosion.
I have been both poorly and busy. Which is not an ideal combination.
Christmas came at a very inconvenient time to be fair.
I managed to pick up a mean cold/cough type of bug and was laid out for a whole weekend. On the upside I got through lots of lovely television that I had recorded on the hard drive so it was a good use of time really.
When's all said and done though, I'd rather the snot monster went next door in future.
Anyway! It is a testament to what a good girl I am that I was very lucky at Christmas, Santa looked fondly on me.
In fact our whole house appeared to have been good all year judging by Santa's kindness.
All manner of lovely gifts had my name on them, I've been able to reduce the size of my wishlist somewhat and am very grateful!
I'm also planning to finally get some new tattoos done, which is quite exciting, although it'll take time as the tattooist is renowned for being booked up for ages and ages.
What am I saying? I'm really bloody excited about getting them done and talking to the tattooist about some designs I have in mind that I haven't been able to draw up myself.
I'm just taking a moment to jump up on my soapbox.
This morning I popped downstairs, remembering the men were coming to empty the bins and that I had several sacks of recycling in the boot that needed to go into my bins.
I ran downstairs and upon going outside realised that someone had moved my bins which I though was odd. Thinking little more of it, I opened the boot and took out the sacks. I hauled them to my bins. Opened my bins, which I knew to be virtually empty and discovered them to be full to the brim. It's just bloody rude. Everyone has their own bin, so why the hell do they think they have the right to fill mine up too? I hope they get nits. And other itchy ailments, preferably ones I won't catch. They're going on the list.
But seriously, how hard is it to knock on my door and ask if I mind them shoving all their crap in my bins. Maybe I should give them a key so they can use my fridge if they run out of room in theirs?
And breathe.
I've just finished reading The Llama Parlour by Kathy Lette.
What I most regret is that I'll never get back the time I wasted on that book.
What I also regret is that I am also hating the current book I'm reading, but after 300 pages I still feel an obligation to finish it, despite the fact the central characters are two of the most shallow women I've ever read about. There were a few funny lines at the beginning, but now I just hope it bucks a trend and there's a terribly unhappy ending. I can but hope.
I need some fire bricks so that I can put a grate in my fireplace, so that I can make kindling from these 'novels'.
As a belated Christmas gift to the world I am giving you these:
I admit I have a celebrity crush on Adam Savage. I can't help it. He makes me laugh!
And that has to be my favourite explosion.
Now I have to think about New Years Resolutions......
Tuesday, 23 September 2008
Unhappy Ending
I was just updating my Recently Read & Reading section.
I'm not sure I should have counted 'It should be you' by Josie Lloyd though. I didn't finish it. When I got to the point that I was hoping that the central character, Charlie, was either going to get shot in the head or have a deeply unhappy ending in some other way, I realised I probably wasn't really drawn into the book.
I hated her. And I hated her friends. But something told me that, with it being chick-lit, they weren't all going to be maimed in the way I was fantasising about.
So, I pulled out the bookmark and the book is going to be given away.
It ought to be a candidate for Book Crossing but I'm not sure it would be fair to inflict it on some unknowing stranger.
I've moved on to The Neon Bible and it's a vast improvement.
I'm not sure I should have counted 'It should be you' by Josie Lloyd though. I didn't finish it. When I got to the point that I was hoping that the central character, Charlie, was either going to get shot in the head or have a deeply unhappy ending in some other way, I realised I probably wasn't really drawn into the book.
I hated her. And I hated her friends. But something told me that, with it being chick-lit, they weren't all going to be maimed in the way I was fantasising about.
So, I pulled out the bookmark and the book is going to be given away.
It ought to be a candidate for Book Crossing but I'm not sure it would be fair to inflict it on some unknowing stranger.
I've moved on to The Neon Bible and it's a vast improvement.
Wednesday, 28 November 2007
Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
I don't know how I got to be 32 and have no idea of the general storyline of Wuthering Heights.
I knew Heathcliff was a dark brooding character and I knew Cathy was cold and wanted to be let in at the window (thanks to Kate Bush obviously).
So, when I came to read the book I was shocked to find Heathcliff wasn't the hero I expected. I thought that he would follow in the footsteps of Mr Darcy and Mr Rochester. I'm stunned at how wrong I was. I don't know that I've ever read a book where the hero is such a villain and I'm not sure how we ever romanticised him.
On the flip side it was really refreshing that I didn't know what to expect, that the whole story was such a surprise to me. I've since read an essay about whether Heathcliff was actually meant to be interpreted as a murderer too. It's clear he's violent, malicious and cruel but whether he's directly responsible for the death of Hindley is subjective, although I feel sure he was indirectly responsible.
After going to a lecture about Jane Eyre and hearing a little about Emily Bronte as well, I was even keener to read Wuthering Heights and I'm pleased I have done. I like the way that she develops her characters and I loved Joseph, even though I had to read his speech over and over to understand what he was saying.
I'm really enjoying catching up with some of the classics, interspersing them with contemporary fiction, it feels like opening more and more doors to more and more worlds.
I knew Heathcliff was a dark brooding character and I knew Cathy was cold and wanted to be let in at the window (thanks to Kate Bush obviously).
So, when I came to read the book I was shocked to find Heathcliff wasn't the hero I expected. I thought that he would follow in the footsteps of Mr Darcy and Mr Rochester. I'm stunned at how wrong I was. I don't know that I've ever read a book where the hero is such a villain and I'm not sure how we ever romanticised him.
On the flip side it was really refreshing that I didn't know what to expect, that the whole story was such a surprise to me. I've since read an essay about whether Heathcliff was actually meant to be interpreted as a murderer too. It's clear he's violent, malicious and cruel but whether he's directly responsible for the death of Hindley is subjective, although I feel sure he was indirectly responsible.
After going to a lecture about Jane Eyre and hearing a little about Emily Bronte as well, I was even keener to read Wuthering Heights and I'm pleased I have done. I like the way that she develops her characters and I loved Joseph, even though I had to read his speech over and over to understand what he was saying.
I'm really enjoying catching up with some of the classics, interspersing them with contemporary fiction, it feels like opening more and more doors to more and more worlds.
Saturday, 3 November 2007
A Friend Of The Family - Lisa Jewell
Ok, so it's not going to win the Booker prize or anything, nor any other prestigious literature awards, but I really enjoyed it. But then, I've enjoyed everything of hers that I've read. She has a way of describing the characters that make you feel you've met them somewhere before, throughout the course of the book you feel like you wish you were friends with all the characters.
She creates an empathy in you and I always fly through her books.
She took what seemed like a perfect family, exposed their flaws, all flaws you felt you could have in yourself or recognised in others and made you realise that people change. Who you were is not who you are, nor who you are going to be.
Yeah, so it might have a hint of the old Mills & Boon, you know you're likely to get a happy ending and you know what? I love that once in a while. I'm a woman, I like my fairy-tale endings. I love Pretty Woman, Dirty Dancing and Amelie just as much as I love Battle Royale, Leon or Like Water For Chocolate.
So, as I haven't even mentioned it really, A Friend Of The Family tells the story of Bernie & Gerry, happily married for 40 years and their three sons; Tony, Sean and Ned.
Tony's in a relationship with Ness and unsure, running his own business which he's made successful but isn't happy.
Sean, a published author who is in love with Millie until she throws him a curve ball and he questions everything.
Ned, home from a three year stay in Australia - where he's left his girlfriend, Monica who loses it when he leaves her and takes to sending him her hair and eyelashes amongst other things.
Then there's Gervase, the lodger who knows things...
I really liked it, easy reading and I was almost tempted to pick up another of hers that I haven't read from my shelf. But am moving on to Wuthering Heights instead, which I can't believe I've never read.
She creates an empathy in you and I always fly through her books.
She took what seemed like a perfect family, exposed their flaws, all flaws you felt you could have in yourself or recognised in others and made you realise that people change. Who you were is not who you are, nor who you are going to be.
Yeah, so it might have a hint of the old Mills & Boon, you know you're likely to get a happy ending and you know what? I love that once in a while. I'm a woman, I like my fairy-tale endings. I love Pretty Woman, Dirty Dancing and Amelie just as much as I love Battle Royale, Leon or Like Water For Chocolate.
So, as I haven't even mentioned it really, A Friend Of The Family tells the story of Bernie & Gerry, happily married for 40 years and their three sons; Tony, Sean and Ned.
Tony's in a relationship with Ness and unsure, running his own business which he's made successful but isn't happy.
Sean, a published author who is in love with Millie until she throws him a curve ball and he questions everything.
Ned, home from a three year stay in Australia - where he's left his girlfriend, Monica who loses it when he leaves her and takes to sending him her hair and eyelashes amongst other things.
Then there's Gervase, the lodger who knows things...
I really liked it, easy reading and I was almost tempted to pick up another of hers that I haven't read from my shelf. But am moving on to Wuthering Heights instead, which I can't believe I've never read.
Tuesday, 30 October 2007
Here On Earth - Alice Hoffman
I laid in the bath this evening, bubbles seeming to continue to multiply whilst simultaneously popping near my ears and decided to read a couple of chapters of my book.
I'm not entirely sure what time I got into the bath but I think it was about two hours before I finally realised the water was cool and the bubbles had all but gone.
Turned out that a couple of chapters wasn't enough, I finished the book. And loved it.
It went in a direction that I felt I should have anticipated but hadn't and was hanging on every word. I occasionally find myself jumping to the last sentence of the page I'm on, in a rush to have an answer to what's happening within the paragraph I'm reading.
I remember my grandmother read a lot of crime books, she told me that she always read the end of the book first so that she wouldn't grow to like the character of the murderer and end up being disappointed in them.
I can understand that to an extent. The characters in this didn't develop as I thought they would, the relationships changed in ways I didn't expect. What I was sure would be the end didn't even feature.
There were lines I wanted to memorise for their beauty whilst carrying envy I didn't put those sentences together myself.
All this from a tale of a mother and daughter, March and Gwen, gone to a funeral in March's home town and the story of the strength of her passion for her first love.
I loved how the storytelling swapped from mother to daughter to friend to person to person in the blink of an eye. Seeing everything from all angles and so very accurate in showing that so many situations are not the way you imagine because your vision is coloured by your assumptions.
It was beautiful and sad, touching and heart wrenching.
I'm not entirely sure what time I got into the bath but I think it was about two hours before I finally realised the water was cool and the bubbles had all but gone.
Turned out that a couple of chapters wasn't enough, I finished the book. And loved it.
It went in a direction that I felt I should have anticipated but hadn't and was hanging on every word. I occasionally find myself jumping to the last sentence of the page I'm on, in a rush to have an answer to what's happening within the paragraph I'm reading.
I remember my grandmother read a lot of crime books, she told me that she always read the end of the book first so that she wouldn't grow to like the character of the murderer and end up being disappointed in them.
I can understand that to an extent. The characters in this didn't develop as I thought they would, the relationships changed in ways I didn't expect. What I was sure would be the end didn't even feature.
There were lines I wanted to memorise for their beauty whilst carrying envy I didn't put those sentences together myself.
All this from a tale of a mother and daughter, March and Gwen, gone to a funeral in March's home town and the story of the strength of her passion for her first love.
I loved how the storytelling swapped from mother to daughter to friend to person to person in the blink of an eye. Seeing everything from all angles and so very accurate in showing that so many situations are not the way you imagine because your vision is coloured by your assumptions.
It was beautiful and sad, touching and heart wrenching.
Monday, 29 October 2007
Patterns
Literature is a luxury; fiction is a necessity.
- G. K. Chesterton
I like to see patterns in things. Most of the time I imagine them, but I like the world of coincidences.
When I collect my parcels together and complete the certificates of posting I like it when all the people have the same initial, or all live in houses with names not numbers. Just feels like something in the world lined up neatly.
I've rediscovered my love of reading and am to be found, nose deep in a book at some point every day. I've always had a love of books, but once out of the habit of reading it was far easier to sit and watch tv instead. Now that my love of fiction has been reawakened I'm flying through book after book.
I'm currently reading Here On Earth by Alice Hoffman which I can't get enough of. It sat on the shelf for a long time and now I feel sorry that I didn't get to the story before. But I like the pattern that I'm imagining exists that links book to book to book. The main female character is called March, in my previous book (The Secret Life Of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd) had characters called August, May & June. See? There's a link, they're all named after months of the year.
I know I'm imagining it but still...
And the link from The Secret Life Of Bees to the book prior to that (To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee) laid in the racial tensions evident in both.
Is everything linked in the world in some way? In this small world of ours? Is it all subject to those six degrees of separation?
I must say though that I really liked The Secret Life Of Bees, every now and then you watch or read something and wonder if maybe you don't want to be a beekeeper? Or a jet pilot (Top Gun)? Or able to talk to the animals (Dr Dolittle)!
Those stories set in a time of such change, like The Secret Life Of Bees and To Kill a Mockingbird really change your view of the world and they make me wonder how I would have felt and behaved all those decades ago. Would I still hold the same views that I have now? After all, Atticus Finch speaks about how women weren't allowed to be on juries - he joked that we'd talk too much and ask too many questions. Uttering such a thing today would result in uproar from the sexual equality groups. Although I am all for equality, it has to be said, I'd quite like to have been spared from the mind-numbing boredom that was jury service.
Anyway, I am loving all the books I'm reading. I've either been very lucky or am too easily pleased but I haven't, thus far, found many books I haven't enjoyed. I found D.H. Lawrence's The Rainbow quite hard work but enjoyed it all the same somehow.
The only book in my life I can ever remember hating was Sophie's World by Jostein Gaarder. I know it won awards but I couldn't even bring myself to finish it. Nor could I bring myself to allow it shelf space.
- G. K. Chesterton
I like to see patterns in things. Most of the time I imagine them, but I like the world of coincidences.
When I collect my parcels together and complete the certificates of posting I like it when all the people have the same initial, or all live in houses with names not numbers. Just feels like something in the world lined up neatly.
I've rediscovered my love of reading and am to be found, nose deep in a book at some point every day. I've always had a love of books, but once out of the habit of reading it was far easier to sit and watch tv instead. Now that my love of fiction has been reawakened I'm flying through book after book.
I'm currently reading Here On Earth by Alice Hoffman which I can't get enough of. It sat on the shelf for a long time and now I feel sorry that I didn't get to the story before. But I like the pattern that I'm imagining exists that links book to book to book. The main female character is called March, in my previous book (The Secret Life Of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd) had characters called August, May & June. See? There's a link, they're all named after months of the year.
I know I'm imagining it but still...
And the link from The Secret Life Of Bees to the book prior to that (To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee) laid in the racial tensions evident in both.
Is everything linked in the world in some way? In this small world of ours? Is it all subject to those six degrees of separation?
I must say though that I really liked The Secret Life Of Bees, every now and then you watch or read something and wonder if maybe you don't want to be a beekeeper? Or a jet pilot (Top Gun)? Or able to talk to the animals (Dr Dolittle)!
Those stories set in a time of such change, like The Secret Life Of Bees and To Kill a Mockingbird really change your view of the world and they make me wonder how I would have felt and behaved all those decades ago. Would I still hold the same views that I have now? After all, Atticus Finch speaks about how women weren't allowed to be on juries - he joked that we'd talk too much and ask too many questions. Uttering such a thing today would result in uproar from the sexual equality groups. Although I am all for equality, it has to be said, I'd quite like to have been spared from the mind-numbing boredom that was jury service.
Anyway, I am loving all the books I'm reading. I've either been very lucky or am too easily pleased but I haven't, thus far, found many books I haven't enjoyed. I found D.H. Lawrence's The Rainbow quite hard work but enjoyed it all the same somehow.
The only book in my life I can ever remember hating was Sophie's World by Jostein Gaarder. I know it won awards but I couldn't even bring myself to finish it. Nor could I bring myself to allow it shelf space.
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