Just about Forgot

(Not on purpose…. really! Thanks, Dewey, for the reminder!)

The deadline to submit one of your posts for the Feburary Bookworms Carnival is this Friday, day after tomorrow. You can send submissions to Renay at thebookninja at gmail dot com.

The theme is The Geography of Make-Believe: a fantastic voyage through the magical, mythical, and mystical. If you click the theme link, you’ll be brought to an informative page prepared by Renay, this month’s host.

If you’ve never participated in a carnival before, this is a great time to do so, because Renay’s informative post is so very informative that you’ll feel as confident as a veteran carnival participant!

And looking forward to March. you might want to start thinking about next month’s carnival, hosted by The Armenian Odar Reads. Her theme is Women in Literature, and you can send posts to armenianodar at yahoo dot com.

Spreading the Love, Part 2

I have been reading. I really have. In fact, I finished two books and sent off reviews for The Edge of the Forest. I’m soooo excited. I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to write for it. So, when I just happened to have two ARCs that wouldn’t work for Estella’s Revenge (too young), I got up the courage and emailed Kelly. I’m all giggly with anticipation, now. Something about seeing what you’ve written some place new gets me all excited.

I just started Northanger Abby yesterday, and (surprise!) am enjoying it. Maybe starting with my least favorite Austen is a good idea.

Until I finish, that, though…

Nyssaneala and Andi have both said I make their day (yay!). I know I’m supposed to pass this along, but I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m not sure I want to. There are 97 feeds on my bloglines, and I love reading every single one of them for so many different reasons. I love the photographs, the recipes, the book reviews (though my TBR list is out of control). I love the mom-bloggers, too; they give me strength and ideas to make it through each day. I love reading the Mormon blogs; there are some interesting thoughts and insights about my religion out there. And I can’t forget my family (blame my husband; it’s his fault I blog!) and friends — both old and new, even the ones I haven’t met in-person yet. If you have come by, read my blog, whether or not you’ve commented (but especially if you have), you’ve made my day. (I live for comments, which is ironic, since I tend to be more of a lurker than a commenter.) I probably read your blog now because you came by here. I know I’m not the chattiest blogger — I’ve got a shtick and I stick to it pretty well — but I love blogging. I love the electronic community out there, I love the ideas I get from you all. And my days would be much less sunny without you.

(I also tend to apologize for getting sappy. I’ll try not to this time. Have a great day!)

Spreading the Love

Booklogged sent me a bit of blogging love today. I enjoyed meeting her last summer as I was popping through Utah… I like putting faces to names, and getting to know people outside of the blogging world. I’d love a chance to meet everyone whose blogs I read; it’s not possible, but I can dream, can’t I?

I don’t know where this originated, but I liked this quote that Booklogged used:

“So, the point (and I do have one) to this post is motivated by my desire to hand some of that love and kindness back around to those who have been so very, very, very good to me in this bloggy world. My hope is that those who receive this award will pass it on to those who have been very, very, very good to them as well. It’s a big kiss, of the chaste platonic kind, from me to you with the underlying ‘thanks’ message implied. I really do appreciate your support and your friendship and yes, your comments. … Mwah!”

So… spreading the love around a bit more:

Amira — she was my first reader and commenter, and even though she doesn’t say much around here, I know she’s still reading, which I really appreciate.

Becky — for giving me support, encouragement, and expanding my TBR list by a ton of books.

Corrine — she’s an awesome woman and, among other things, helps run the on-line bookgroup I belong to, which I totally love. (XOs to all of my Nook friends, too…)

Andi and Heather — for Estella’s Revenge, and giving me an opportunity to write for them.

Erin — for being a super-cool girl. She’s awesome. I hope my kids turn out to be as neat as her.

And for the rest of my readers: THANKS for your comments, your recommendations, and your ideas. You’re awesome!

I Heart My Library Meme

Becky came up with this meme to celebrate Library Lovers Month. I thought, since I love my local library, that I thought I’d participate.

How do you plan on celebrating Library Lovers month? This meme, and my weekly trips to the library. Maybe I’ll wish the librarians happy library lovers month.

How often do you accidentally spell library as ‘libary’ when you’re in a hurry? Probably 75% of the time. Then again, I misspell “the” nearly 90% of the time. My hands can’t keep up with my brain.

What is the most amount of books you’ve ever had checked out at one time? I don’t know. 35? 40? More? (That includes the picture books for the girls.) Enough that people who know me humorously mock my library habits.

What is the longest you’ve ever gone without visiting the library? Um, two weeks? I went less often when we lived in Illinois, but only because the library was not a user-friendly place. For years, though, I’ve been going weekly.

What is the biggest fine you’ve ever had? Don’t remember. I try to avoid them.

When you go to the library, do you plan ahead and make a list? Or do you browse? I used to just browse. But, A and K are not the type of kids who really jive with browsing. They run all over the library, refusing to stick nearby and be quiet. So, I’ve taken to doing everything on-line. I have my TBR list on-line, I put holds on the ones that I want to read and just pick them up at the check out desk. I still browse for the girls picture books, though.

Have you ever been shushed or hushed by a librarian? My kids have. Lots.

What is the worst (against-the-rules) thing you’ve ever done in the library? Food. Definitely food.

What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done to a library book? Probably get water on it. I tend to read in the bathtub a lot.

Have you ever had a “favorite” librarian? I loved, and still miss, the children’s librarians (Anne, Karen, and Kay) in Jonesboro, Arkansas. They knew us personally and said hi whenever we came in, they had great story times, and they were always ready with recommendations and help. I knew they loved the books they were surrounded with. (IN fact, it was Anne who pointed me towards Mo Willems, with the statement: “This one should have won the Newbery.”) I think of them every so often.

I do like Mrs. Z at our library here, she does really good story times. And there’s a nice Indian woman (I don’t know her name; she doesn’t wear her name tag!) whom I chat with at checkout sometimes.

If you could change one thing about your library it would be… I don’t know. I love that I can get holds from all over the city ; someone in the system somewhere usually has the book I want. I love that I can check out the book for 4 weeks. After Illinois, this library is just about perfect.

It’s February!

And Andi’s on the ball! (Yay for a reduced class load!! 🙂 ) The February issue of Estella’s up, and it looks good. For the Gardella Vampire fans, there’s both an interview with Colleen Gleason and a review of her latest book. As for me, I actually broke down and wrote a philosophy on reading, as well as reviewing a book of funny Southern essays and a good YA Shakespeare adaptation (one of the three I read the past few months…). It’s a good issue. Go check it out!

Kira-Kira

I’m behind on my own challenge! I meant to read more in January, but it just didn’t happen. I have been enjoying reading the reviews of books others have been reading, and expanding my to-be-read list (among other things).

So… Kira-Kira, by Cynthia Kadohata, and 2005 Newbery winner.

I’m not sure what I think of this one. It’s one of those books that’s not really about anything. I’m not sure I could sum up the plot: it’s a young Japanese girl growing up in Georgia and her family surviving. It doesn’t sound terribly interesting. (I’m not sure how many kids would be taken in by the cover, either.)

And yet, it’s a lovely book, word-wise; very evocative of place and mood. You easily get a sense of Katie’s wonder at the world, at her love for her sister (and eventually her younger brother). And because of the language, it becomes a beautiful tribute to sisters and to growing up. Katie would do anything for Lynn, even when the going gets difficult. Lynn loves Katie, even when she’s being a teenager and thinks Katie’s too immature. It’s a testament to family and to how pulling together family can get someone through just about everything.

It’s heartbreaking at the end, when Lynn becomes ill and eventually dies. Katie not only helps nurse her through her illness, but has to help her family pick up the pieces and move on. It’s not easy; there are times when everyone loses it. But, they do move on, remembering Lynn yet not ending their lives for her.

It was a good book. Much better than I was expecting, and I’m glad I finally got around to reading it.

January Jacket Flap-a-thon

I’ve been blogging for over three years now, and I know I’ve never gone in for weekly or monthly features before. But, inspired by Erin’s favorite first lines, I have decided (at least for this year) to become a connoisseur of jacket flap copy, in a quest to find what makes an excellent jacket flap. At the end of the month, I’ll pick my top 5, and analyze (ha!) why they work for me. I’ve either copied them from the publisher’s websites or from the jacket flap of the edition I read, depending on how long it was and how much I felt like typing.

I guess I should set up some guidelines. The “perfect” (or at least really good) jacket flap will: be catchy, making me want to open up the book; reflect the tone and style of the book; be accurate — I hate it when blurbs make me believe that there’s more to the book than there really is; and be succinct, nothing overly wordy (the journalist in me comes out again). I’ll probably add to this as the year progresses, for for now that’s a good start.

So, without further adieu, I give you January’s Jacket Flap-a-thon.

My top 5:
5. Ptolemy’s Gate (Hyperion Books for Children): Three years have passed since the magician Nathaniel helped prevent a cataclysmic attack on London. Now an established member of the British Government, he faces unprecedented problems: foreign wars are going badly, Britain’s enemies are mounting attacks close to London, and rebellion is fermenting among the commoners. Increasingly imperious and distracted, Nathaniel is treating Bartimaeus worse than ever. The long-suffering djinni is growing weak and vulnerable from too much time in this world, and his patience is nearing its end. Meanwhile, undercover in London, Kitty has been stealthily completing her research on magic, demons, and Bartimaeus’s past. She has a plan that she hopes will break the endless cycle of conflict between djinn and humans. But will anyone listen to what she has to say? In this thrilling conclusion of the Bartimaeus trilogy, the destinies of Bartimaeus, Nathaniel, and Kitty are thrown together once more. For the first time, we will learn the secrets of Bartimaeus’s past, and get a glimpse into the Other Place — the world of demons — as together, the threesome must face treacherous magicians, unravel a masterfully complex conspiracy, and defeat a formidable faction of demons. And worst of all, they must somehow cope with one another….”

I thought this one captured the essence of the book quite well. You’ve got Bartimaeus as a weakening djinni, you’ve got a reference to Ptolemy, and to Kitty’s adventures with Bartimaeus. It’s not as catchy as I’d like, but I think it does a fairly good job drawing you in. I’d want to read this one. (Though, I have to admit, that if I hadn’t read the other two, I don’t know if I’d be as eager.)

4. Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow (Bloomsbury): “Blessed—or cursed—with an ability to understand animals, the Lass has always felt estranged from her family, who struggle to make a living in the windswept north. So when an isbjorn (polar bear) seeks her out and promises that her family will be provided for if she accompanies him to his castle, she doesn’t hesitate. But the great white bear is not what he seems, nor is his castle. Slowly the Lass unravels the mystery of the bear’s enchantment and the spell connecting him with the strange symbols carved in the castle’s icy walls. But on a journey to a place where the four winds fear to travel, the true horror of the bear’s spell is revealed, and the Lass’s courage—and love—will be tested.”

I was torn about this one — it’s an excellent blurb for a book I wasn’t overly thrilled with. But, in the end, I chose it because it made me really want to read the book. And so it did it’s job well, even if the book was less than I wanted.

3. Moxy Maxwell Does Not Love Stuart Little (Schwartz & Wade Books): “It isn’t as if Moxy hasn’t tried to read Stuart Little. She has. They’ve been practically inseparable all summer, like best friends. If the book isn’t in her backpack, it’s in her lap. If it isn’t holding up the coffee table on the front porch, it’s following Moxy into the pool. So you see, it isn’t as if they haven’t spent quality time together. But now it’s the end of August. The last day before fourth grade starts. The last possible second to finish summer reading. And if Moxy does not stay in her room and read ALL of Stuart Little, there will be “consequences.” (Which means she won’t get to play the eighth daisy petal in the “Goodbye to Summer Splash!” water ballet. Which will be tragic.)”

I liked that this one picked up the tone of the book. It’s a cute blurb for a cute book. (And it makes me smile.)

2. Omnivore’s Dilemma (Penguin Books): “Today, buffeted by one food fad after another, America is suffering from what can only be described as a national eating disorder. Will it be fast food tonight, or something organic? Or perhaps something we grew ourselves? The question of what to have for dinner has confronted us since man discovered fire. But as Michael Pollan explains in this revolutionary book, how we answer it now, at the dawn of the twenty-first century, may determine our survival as a species. Packed with profound surprises, The Omnivore’s Dilemma is changing the way Americans think about the politics, perils and pleasures of eating.”

This was on the back of the paperback version, but I liked it mostly because it was short. Jacket flaps for adult books tend to go on and on and on…. but this one is quick and succinct, and gets across the importance of Pollan’s argument.

1. Good Masters! Sweet Ladies! (Candlewick): “Varlets, Vermin, Simpletons, Saints — in these pages, readers will meet them all. There’s Hugo, the lord’s nephew, forced to prove his manhood by hunting a wild boar, a beast whose tusks can “slice a man, groin to gorge.” There’s sharp-tongued Nelly, who supports her family by catching and selling live eels, and the peasant’s daughter, Mogg, whose downtrodden mother teachers her how to save a cow from a greedy landlord. There’s also mud-slinging Barbary and her noble victim, Isobel; Giles, the talented beggar; Alice, the singing shepherdess; and more. With a deep appreciation for the period and a grand affection for both characters and audience, Laura Amy Schlitz has created a series of riveting portraits. Read silently or performed before an audience, the collective voices tell an unforgettable human story about what it took to survive in the Middle Ages. Robert Byrd’s insightful pen-and-ink drawings take inspiration from an illuminated thirteenth-century manuscript. Together, illustrator and author have constructed an exquisite bridge to the people and places of medieval England.”

This one is excellent. It captures the feel of the book — medieval England — and points out that they are a series of short plays. And it mentions the absolutely beautiful illustrations. Perfect.

The worst one (you didn’t want to read 5, anyway):
Matilda (Puffin Books): “‘The Trunchbull’ is no match for Matilda! Who put superglue in Dad’s hat? Was it really a ghost that made Mom tear out of the house? Matilda is a genius with idiot parents – and she’s having a great time driving them crazy. But at school things are different. At school there’s Miss Trunchbull, two hundred menacing pounds of kid-hating headmistress. Get rid of the Trunchbull and Matilda would be a hero. But that would take a superhuman genius, wouldn’t it?”

AAAHHH! I don’t know what I would have done with Matilda, but this isn’t it. It’s horrid. It’s banal. It’s stupid. Yeah, it’s the basic plot, but it doesn’t make me want to read the book. (It sounds stupid.) And the book is wonderful.

Enter Three Witches

Novelizing Shakespearean plays. Novel idea, right? I have this feeling that the recent “trend” (I’ve read three different takes on three different plays in the last four months) isn’t really new; that somewhere out there other authors have taken on Shakespeare and tried to make him more accessible.

If not, then why not? He’s just loaded with story ideas…

This one, by Caroline B. Cooney takes on Macbeth. It’s not exactly a happy play; but as far as tragedies go, I like this one best. Granted, it’s been years since I’ve read or seen it (and since I couldn’t remember it well, I kept wondering how the book measured up; but it isn’t necessary to understand the book), but I remember thinking that it was not only a good, cohesive play (it makes more sense than Hamlet!), but it’s got enough of the supernatural in there to scare you silly.

I think that Cooney did a marvelous job re-creating the mood of the play. The narration flips back and forth between characters, some of whom are Shakespearean. We follow Lady Mary (who isn’t in the play), daughter of the Thane of Cawdor (who is), and ward of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth. We learn about Swin, the cook; Ildred, Lady Macbeth’s lady-in-waiting, as well as Seyton and Fleance (who are mentioned in the play, but has an expanded role). It’s a complicated thing, flitting between narrators, and generally I find it distracting. But I think it helps with the mood in this case; we are supposed to feel a measure of confusion and uncertainty, and having different people tell us different aspects of the story helps with that. I also like that the book feels spooky. The undercurrent of the witches are there… and Macbeth’s (and others) descent from the noble to the cursed is visible and affecting.

I did have a few issues with the book — Lady Mary as a main character was fairly weak; she spent much of the book lurking around wondering what she should do. It’s understandable; being the 14-year-old daughter of a traitor leaves her in a precarious situation. Still, it wasn’t until the last third of the book that I actually began to like her as a character. I liked the other narrators, though, so they kept me going when Lady Mary was uninteresting. And the plot point where Ildred became pregnant and had a baby which was killed in the course of the book, I felt like it came from nowhere. I did go back and read some sections after finishing and realized that the hints were there, but they were sufficiently subtle that I completely missed them. So, it may just be me.

Overall, though, I liked the book and think it’d be a good companion read with the play. (Maybe I’ll even get around to reading/seeing it again someday.)

Matilda

I debated for a while if I should write this one up, since it was another read-aloud to C. But I remembered that I wrote about The Secret Garden, and I decided if I haven’t written anything about the books I’ve read aloud to her (we read Ella Enchanted, but I’ve already got that one floating around here somewhere), then I’ll write about it.

This is one of those books that I’ve known the story of forever, but I’m not actually sure I’ve ever read the book before. Maybe I have; elements of it seemed familiar, but perhaps that’s from other Roald Dahl books I’ve read. He does have a very distinct writing style. And one that’s completely over-the-top and captivating at the same time.

The book had both me and C completely captivated, the entire time. She was sitting on the floor, or the ottoman, inching, leaning closer to me as if that would help her absorb the words better. She loved the story; the idea of this uber-mean woman who had power over all dominion, and the little girl who defeated her. She loved Matilda’s pranks, though she said, “She probably shouldn’t have done them. Just because her parents were mean, doesn’t really make them right.” (Ah, conscience.) She loved the words, asking me to re-read things.

And I loved reading it out loud. It’s one of those books that while it reads fine on the page, reading it out loud really brings out the brilliance of it all. I loved reading Trunchbull’s name-calling: “vile, repulsive, repellent, malicious little brute” or “You ignorant little slug! You witless weed! You empty-headed hamster! You stupid glob of glue!” I even found myself doing voices; there’s something about the Wormwoods and Trunchbull that begs to be read in a certain way.

In short, it was a lot of fun. That leaves us with a problem, though: What to read next?

1984

Hear that?

It’s the sound of me surfacing, exhaling, sighing with relief now that I’m finished with George Orwell’s classic distopian novel (the word on the back of our copy is “negative utopia”, but then it was also published — and bought by Hubby — in 1984). It went down like bad medicine; combined with my usual January blues, I was thrust into a funk that was only abated by liberal dosages of 30 Rock.

Now that it’s done, I can look at it at least partially objectively. It is a classic, but a very dated one. It’s very blatantly, obviously a product of World War II.

Let me sum up for those who haven’t read it (so you don’t have to): Winston Smith, 39 years old, is a Party member in Oceania. He works in the Ministry of Truth (the “propaganda” ministry — the ministry names were funny, in a morbid way: Truth is propaganda; Peace is war; Love is the police; Plenty is economic affairs), as a recorder of some sort. He spends his days altering history, making minor corrections in the records of the past whenever someone disappears, or the economic realities come out differently than predicted, or they change with whom they are at war. He is unhappy; partially because he leads an unhappy life, but partially, also, because he questions this history-making. He remembers that things used to be different; he remembers his childhood. And so, he begins rebelling in small ways. He gets a diary, and writes in it. He takes a lover, Julia (Party members aren’t supposed to have sex). And, after what could be weeks or months, they get caught. Winston is tortured, beaten down, electrocuted, re-programmed and sent back into the world.

There’s this one point where O’Brien, the Party member responsible for Winston’s re-programming, goes on about the faults of previous totalitarian regimes: they created martyrs. They killed their enemies, sure after torturing them or humiliating them, but they killed them nonetheless. “Above all,” he tells Winston, “we do not allow the dead to rise up against us. You must stop imagining that posterity will vindicate you, Winston. Posterity will never hear of you. You will be lifted clean out of the stream of history.”

Chilling, isn’t it. It’s a dated book, as a mentioned before, and not just because the technology is dated. It’s more than that: we’ve moved past the ideas in the book as a society. I really don’t think this book works as a “warning” any more.

It’s not that there isn’t totalitarian regimes anymore. There is. (I was shocked at how well Orwell depicted Mao and the Cultural Revolution, before it happened. Eerie.) But we’re in a much more global society, a much more capitalistic one (for good or bad). There’s authoritarian countries — China, still, Cuba and Russia under Putin — but they’re not the super-scary places that Orwell was writing about. Saddam Hussein is gone. The only one left, that would fit this book’s description is North Korea. It’s scary, it’s depressing, it’s evil… and yet it’s not the way the world is going. There’s too much information flowing — take the internet — too much capital, there will never be a world like the one Orwell imagined.

But as a political novel, a look at what could-have-been, it it could have been compelling (though depressing) book. Yet, I wasn’t compelled. I was repulsed. Physically sickened. Depressed. It took some talking to Hubby, but I finally hit upon it: Orwell has no hope. There is no way out in this book. There is no hope for a brighter future. This is the way things will be. Accept it, love it, or become run over by it. And I couldn’t. I couldn’t take it.

And so, I suffered through (I should have given up, but I did so want to be part of the discussion, and I can’t do that if I go in and say “I didn’t finish the book.” There’s also the very large chance that most of the other women who come will have not read the book, so somebody had to.), very very grateful for the world we live in today.