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I ought to be making phone calls, but the cat is lying on his back in my lap, with his front paws curled elegantly over his chest and his back paws up in the air, and he is making small snerking noises and falling asleep, and meanwhile my phone is over on the other side of the room, so clearly attacking the to-do list is not meant to be right now. How could I possibly dislodge such a fine catten? I will write about books instead -- or about my reading, which is rather a different thing.
I read three very early Joan Aiken at once, one collection of short stories for children (More Than You Bargained For), one children's novel (The Kingdom and the Cave), and one adult almost-but-not-quite neo-gothic (The Silence of Herondale). They all had their charms, especially the middle one as it features a talking cat and Aiken wrote it at 17, but I do not seem to fall in love with Aiken the way other people do. I regret not having found more of her in childhood, as I did have the Wolves then and adored it but it was the only one of hers I could find and when I tried rereading it I just could not with all the imperilled children, whereas as an imperilled child(ren) it was quite satisfying. I did not dislike any of these three, but I want more numinous in my children's fantasy and less topical humour about the NHS, and the neo-gothic was fine but the plot furniture got in the way of the book I wanted to read about the very sensible Canadian heroine making a home for herself in an English village. It is not something wrong with the books, it is a mismatch between what they do and what I want, so... will I try a few more? Likely, they are interesting even when they do not work for me.
I finished The Spinning Heart by Donal Ryan which was fantastic, easily one of the best books I have read this year -- modern Irish post-collapse of Celtic Tiger, focusing on one village, everyone speaks for themselves and about everyone else, it is well weighted, even the melodrama is not melodramatic.
I continued to read approximately 5 pages a night of A Succession of Bad Days because I do not want it to end; it keeps hitting so precisely into my experience and thinking that I am almost embarassed to talk about it, although I did manage to enthuse enough to a friend that he has bought and read the entire series thus far while I centimetre my way along.
Right now there is also a book called The Roof-Tree by James Kenward, from the 1930s, which pretends to be the history of "steep-roofed farm-houses in the Kentish Weald" but it is not actually history, it is fairy-tale, and reminds me very much of Eleanor Farjeon. The fairy-tale is quite accidental, I am sure Kenward really believes what he says about the universal builder who is the same man every generation but I am not worrying about that, I am enjoying his prose and his drawings and as much as I can ignoring his misogyny, which is of that particular irritating kind that cannot imagine a woman has ever been anything other than one particular stereotype, in this case the nagging house-proud woman whose sole work is in cleaning; even when he mentions anglo-saxon women spinning he seems to think of it as frippery rather than as necessity for survival. It is annoying but I am liking the parts I like so much that I am putting up with the annoyance for the good, which is so often the case.
And, lastly, Speaking of Jane Austen by Sheila Kaye-Smith and G. B. Stern, from 1943 -- they were both prolific 20thc women writers, but I have not read any of their novels yet. This book is just what it says, the two of them talking about Austen's novels both individually and together, quite fannish in their opinions and conjectures and imaginary letters Austen's minor characters might have written and arguments over whether or not Lady Catherine de Bourgh is a realistic character (Kaye-Smith) or impossibly rude, much ruder than any human being would ever actually be and thus caricature and a failure (Stern). It is marvelous fun, I cannot think why it is not in print, I would think any Austen fan would enjoy reading this earlier generation of fannishness. I am not finished yet but I am particularly loving the chapter in which they are focusing on little details, such as the change in the meanings of words over time (which of course has changed still more in the 70+ years since this was written) and would Mr. Knightley be able to put up with Mr. Woodhouse and why is Richard used for all the boring male characters when to Stern it is a name rich with romance? I may end up buying a copy of this.
I have a large stack of physical books on the Souls and the Coterie ready to read next, but they might have to be returned to the library and then requested again due to the current flurry of tasks and the forthcoming vacation in which I will probably only read ebooks.
I read three very early Joan Aiken at once, one collection of short stories for children (More Than You Bargained For), one children's novel (The Kingdom and the Cave), and one adult almost-but-not-quite neo-gothic (The Silence of Herondale). They all had their charms, especially the middle one as it features a talking cat and Aiken wrote it at 17, but I do not seem to fall in love with Aiken the way other people do. I regret not having found more of her in childhood, as I did have the Wolves then and adored it but it was the only one of hers I could find and when I tried rereading it I just could not with all the imperilled children, whereas as an imperilled child(ren) it was quite satisfying. I did not dislike any of these three, but I want more numinous in my children's fantasy and less topical humour about the NHS, and the neo-gothic was fine but the plot furniture got in the way of the book I wanted to read about the very sensible Canadian heroine making a home for herself in an English village. It is not something wrong with the books, it is a mismatch between what they do and what I want, so... will I try a few more? Likely, they are interesting even when they do not work for me.
I finished The Spinning Heart by Donal Ryan which was fantastic, easily one of the best books I have read this year -- modern Irish post-collapse of Celtic Tiger, focusing on one village, everyone speaks for themselves and about everyone else, it is well weighted, even the melodrama is not melodramatic.
I continued to read approximately 5 pages a night of A Succession of Bad Days because I do not want it to end; it keeps hitting so precisely into my experience and thinking that I am almost embarassed to talk about it, although I did manage to enthuse enough to a friend that he has bought and read the entire series thus far while I centimetre my way along.
Right now there is also a book called The Roof-Tree by James Kenward, from the 1930s, which pretends to be the history of "steep-roofed farm-houses in the Kentish Weald" but it is not actually history, it is fairy-tale, and reminds me very much of Eleanor Farjeon. The fairy-tale is quite accidental, I am sure Kenward really believes what he says about the universal builder who is the same man every generation but I am not worrying about that, I am enjoying his prose and his drawings and as much as I can ignoring his misogyny, which is of that particular irritating kind that cannot imagine a woman has ever been anything other than one particular stereotype, in this case the nagging house-proud woman whose sole work is in cleaning; even when he mentions anglo-saxon women spinning he seems to think of it as frippery rather than as necessity for survival. It is annoying but I am liking the parts I like so much that I am putting up with the annoyance for the good, which is so often the case.
And, lastly, Speaking of Jane Austen by Sheila Kaye-Smith and G. B. Stern, from 1943 -- they were both prolific 20thc women writers, but I have not read any of their novels yet. This book is just what it says, the two of them talking about Austen's novels both individually and together, quite fannish in their opinions and conjectures and imaginary letters Austen's minor characters might have written and arguments over whether or not Lady Catherine de Bourgh is a realistic character (Kaye-Smith) or impossibly rude, much ruder than any human being would ever actually be and thus caricature and a failure (Stern). It is marvelous fun, I cannot think why it is not in print, I would think any Austen fan would enjoy reading this earlier generation of fannishness. I am not finished yet but I am particularly loving the chapter in which they are focusing on little details, such as the change in the meanings of words over time (which of course has changed still more in the 70+ years since this was written) and would Mr. Knightley be able to put up with Mr. Woodhouse and why is Richard used for all the boring male characters when to Stern it is a name rich with romance? I may end up buying a copy of this.
I have a large stack of physical books on the Souls and the Coterie ready to read next, but they might have to be returned to the library and then requested again due to the current flurry of tasks and the forthcoming vacation in which I will probably only read ebooks.
