The stuff going into my head via text
I think I need to write about what I read, because it tends to occupy most of my thoughts while I'm reading it. So first, what I most recently finished, and second, what I'm currently reading:
Everything's Eventual a collection of short stories by Stephen King:
I picked this up used, mostly because used books always appeal to me. I get great joy out of the idea of reading something already well-loved by someone else. Of course, I get great joy out of reading, but there's a certain part of me that goes "squee!" at the idea that someone before me broke the binding, and sometimes you find interesting (or banal) notes in the text. Why Everything's Eventual? Well, when I saw it I was in the mood for something scary. I don't read much horror, and I've certainly enjoyed the cheap thrills of Stephen King's prose. Occasionally, it's been good enough to leave me with a lingering unease for days after I've read the book. And I remember sitting in the cafe at the LB with Roland while he was in the process of reading it, and telling me he was enjoying it.
As a book of scary stories, this one failed to scare.
Now, I'm not saying there aren't stories in here that had me going for a page or three, but ultimately, the thing you can sort of count on with King is that everything will turn out ok in the end. And while in a novel this is a relief, by the time I finished this collection I was, frankly, bored. I'm not sure I would say I regret reading it, but it's not a book I would go back to. If I found myself needing to cull my library in anticipation of a move or something, this would be one of a handful of books I could part with without a pang of guilt.
Reading Lolita in Tehran
I've only read the first section of this one. It's been sitting on my bookshelf for ages; since it was given to me years ago by my aunt. The reasons it sat there for so long are two: At the time I was given it I was one of a few people I knew who actually cared about the oppressiveness of strict Islamic regimes on women, and I was told by my mother that I really shouldn't try to read it without first reading the books it references. The first meant that I didn't think I'd have anyone to talk to about it, and it's a book that (so far at least) makes me what to engage in what ultimately are feminist political discussions. The second meant that I needed to read a number of novels first, which is more planning than I generally put into my pleasure reading. Over the years however I've read most of the necessary Austen and Henry James through classes and an online book club I briefly participated in. Which only left The Great Gatsby and Lolita. How I somehow missed Gatsby in my high school classes is a bit of a longer story for another time.
Today, having finished the section on Lolita, I went to the library after work to rectify this. I found the Fitzgerald, and dutifully checked it out, despite suspecting that Jim owns it (he does), and went in search of the Nabokov.
Now, in Reading Lolita in Tehran, the author describes Nabokov as a "painterly writer." Being the curious person that I am, I sat down and (skipping over the lengthy introductions) read the first few pages of the novel. Most. Florid. Prose. Ever. Now, I'm a rambler myself. I read Tolkien for fun on a regular basis. I spent a good period of middle and high school rather obsessed with Anne Rice's vampire novels. And I knew, just a few pages into Lolita, that there was no way I was going to be able to read this book without someone forcing me to. It's that overwrought. There are only a few of you who would get this reference, but it's more flowery than Krys' first vampire novel. I did not check it out. And honestly, I don't feel like I'm missing anything. This is a novel that, if you are a literature geek, you don't have to read. Because it's referenced a million times over, in a hundred different places. Hell, there's a subset of goth fashion called "gothic lolita." I think I'll survive going through life without spending my time on this book. I'm sure someone out there will object, I don't care.
And all of that rambling makes me sort of want to find a book club here in Boston, so that I have people with whom I can discuss literature. It is possibly the thing I miss most about college.
Everything's Eventual a collection of short stories by Stephen King:
I picked this up used, mostly because used books always appeal to me. I get great joy out of the idea of reading something already well-loved by someone else. Of course, I get great joy out of reading, but there's a certain part of me that goes "squee!" at the idea that someone before me broke the binding, and sometimes you find interesting (or banal) notes in the text. Why Everything's Eventual? Well, when I saw it I was in the mood for something scary. I don't read much horror, and I've certainly enjoyed the cheap thrills of Stephen King's prose. Occasionally, it's been good enough to leave me with a lingering unease for days after I've read the book. And I remember sitting in the cafe at the LB with Roland while he was in the process of reading it, and telling me he was enjoying it.
As a book of scary stories, this one failed to scare.
Now, I'm not saying there aren't stories in here that had me going for a page or three, but ultimately, the thing you can sort of count on with King is that everything will turn out ok in the end. And while in a novel this is a relief, by the time I finished this collection I was, frankly, bored. I'm not sure I would say I regret reading it, but it's not a book I would go back to. If I found myself needing to cull my library in anticipation of a move or something, this would be one of a handful of books I could part with without a pang of guilt.
Reading Lolita in Tehran
I've only read the first section of this one. It's been sitting on my bookshelf for ages; since it was given to me years ago by my aunt. The reasons it sat there for so long are two: At the time I was given it I was one of a few people I knew who actually cared about the oppressiveness of strict Islamic regimes on women, and I was told by my mother that I really shouldn't try to read it without first reading the books it references. The first meant that I didn't think I'd have anyone to talk to about it, and it's a book that (so far at least) makes me what to engage in what ultimately are feminist political discussions. The second meant that I needed to read a number of novels first, which is more planning than I generally put into my pleasure reading. Over the years however I've read most of the necessary Austen and Henry James through classes and an online book club I briefly participated in. Which only left The Great Gatsby and Lolita. How I somehow missed Gatsby in my high school classes is a bit of a longer story for another time.
Today, having finished the section on Lolita, I went to the library after work to rectify this. I found the Fitzgerald, and dutifully checked it out, despite suspecting that Jim owns it (he does), and went in search of the Nabokov.
Now, in Reading Lolita in Tehran, the author describes Nabokov as a "painterly writer." Being the curious person that I am, I sat down and (skipping over the lengthy introductions) read the first few pages of the novel. Most. Florid. Prose. Ever. Now, I'm a rambler myself. I read Tolkien for fun on a regular basis. I spent a good period of middle and high school rather obsessed with Anne Rice's vampire novels. And I knew, just a few pages into Lolita, that there was no way I was going to be able to read this book without someone forcing me to. It's that overwrought. There are only a few of you who would get this reference, but it's more flowery than Krys' first vampire novel. I did not check it out. And honestly, I don't feel like I'm missing anything. This is a novel that, if you are a literature geek, you don't have to read. Because it's referenced a million times over, in a hundred different places. Hell, there's a subset of goth fashion called "gothic lolita." I think I'll survive going through life without spending my time on this book. I'm sure someone out there will object, I don't care.
And all of that rambling makes me sort of want to find a book club here in Boston, so that I have people with whom I can discuss literature. It is possibly the thing I miss most about college.