books, renovations and life
Renovations still underway at home - we now own two more large wardrobes with mirror doors (♥) and some additional bookshelves, which I am already planning to appropriate. Floor in the hall has been re-done, and I have personally torn down one hell of a lot of wallpaper. I'm growing rather resentful towards wallpaper, to be honest. It seems to have a grudge against me, and there's always some more of it.
I would have posted pictures, but my sister has hidden her camera.
I am also starting to understand the spitefulness people who wake up early feel to those who sleep until 11. I am fighting it, though, and plan to be sleeping until 11 as soon as I can. 5 hours of sleep per night is not my quota.
Nonetheless, it is beginning to look almost habitable - except for the bathroom, which by now has turned into a scary place of naked walls and lack of a shower cabin. We shall have a small bathtub instead, but the date of installing that grows more and more remote. My joy, let me show you it.
1. Toby Litt Beatniks was a great read. The story was quite simple, but the narration was oh so perfect. I cringed and I was disturbed and I couldn't help but be fascinated with the pettiness. It also had the unexpected benefit of threesome sex written quite well, if somewhat naturalistically. I liked this one just as much as I liked deadkidsongs, definitely.
2. Art Spiegelman's Maus is something I have mixed feelings about. I have heard about the controvery surrounding the book in Poland due to somewhat unplesant portrayal of the Poles, and honestly I expected to be completely immune to that; yet somehow it did seem a tiny bit unfair. Not because a lot of evil Poles were shown; more so because in the novel it seems that there's no one in Poland fighting the Nazis - some people get paid big money for hiding the Jews and others collaborate with the enemy, but apparently Poles are not really persecuted or oppressed on their own at all, and that kind of hits me. I know that this is a subjective account, of course, but I would have liked to have more balance, I guess.
Nevertheless, the story is fascinating and cruel. No one seems to be completely good, the occupation is shown with detail and care, and the contemporary storyline serves as perfect framing for the other story. I'm loving it.
3. Zoe Heller's Notes on a Scandal was a perfectly disturbing and fascinating read. I am quite sure I wasn't supposed to identify with Barbara so much - and sympathise with her so strongly - yet I couldn't help but do it. The subjective narration worked to a surprising degree, it was so unreliable and perverse. The choice of words especially. I disliked Sheba instantly, of course. A butterfly indeed.
I have also started to watch both Mad Men and Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. The first has great storytelling, acting and dialogue, is perfectly twisted and full of nastiness. I love these nasty housewives and mysogynist men, and how they navigate in the changing times which actually do not seem all that similar to ours.
Terminator, on the other hand, has pretty faces, a little girl who kicks ass and takes names [Summer Glau does a great job of pretending to be a teenager, but my disbelief is actually a bit unsuspended here - even if she has one of those timeless faces, like Bjork) and explosions.
Why yes, I am deep.
I would have posted pictures, but my sister has hidden her camera.
I am also starting to understand the spitefulness people who wake up early feel to those who sleep until 11. I am fighting it, though, and plan to be sleeping until 11 as soon as I can. 5 hours of sleep per night is not my quota.
Nonetheless, it is beginning to look almost habitable - except for the bathroom, which by now has turned into a scary place of naked walls and lack of a shower cabin. We shall have a small bathtub instead, but the date of installing that grows more and more remote. My joy, let me show you it.
1. Toby Litt Beatniks was a great read. The story was quite simple, but the narration was oh so perfect. I cringed and I was disturbed and I couldn't help but be fascinated with the pettiness. It also had the unexpected benefit of threesome sex written quite well, if somewhat naturalistically. I liked this one just as much as I liked deadkidsongs, definitely.
2. Art Spiegelman's Maus is something I have mixed feelings about. I have heard about the controvery surrounding the book in Poland due to somewhat unplesant portrayal of the Poles, and honestly I expected to be completely immune to that; yet somehow it did seem a tiny bit unfair. Not because a lot of evil Poles were shown; more so because in the novel it seems that there's no one in Poland fighting the Nazis - some people get paid big money for hiding the Jews and others collaborate with the enemy, but apparently Poles are not really persecuted or oppressed on their own at all, and that kind of hits me. I know that this is a subjective account, of course, but I would have liked to have more balance, I guess.
Nevertheless, the story is fascinating and cruel. No one seems to be completely good, the occupation is shown with detail and care, and the contemporary storyline serves as perfect framing for the other story. I'm loving it.
3. Zoe Heller's Notes on a Scandal was a perfectly disturbing and fascinating read. I am quite sure I wasn't supposed to identify with Barbara so much - and sympathise with her so strongly - yet I couldn't help but do it. The subjective narration worked to a surprising degree, it was so unreliable and perverse. The choice of words especially. I disliked Sheba instantly, of course. A butterfly indeed.
I have also started to watch both Mad Men and Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. The first has great storytelling, acting and dialogue, is perfectly twisted and full of nastiness. I love these nasty housewives and mysogynist men, and how they navigate in the changing times which actually do not seem all that similar to ours.
Terminator, on the other hand, has pretty faces, a little girl who kicks ass and takes names [Summer Glau does a great job of pretending to be a teenager, but my disbelief is actually a bit unsuspended here - even if she has one of those timeless faces, like Bjork) and explosions.
Why yes, I am deep.