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A Return, and Book Loot: February 2011

This blog has been dormant for quite long enough now, don’t you think?

I am returning to the world of book blogging after months of inactivity and private frustration at the lack of an outlet. My reading is not quite as prolific as it was mid-2010, and this time around I’m going to be blogging to keep up with my reading, not reading to keep up with the impossibility of a self-imposed schedule of blogging.

A major thank you to anyone who commented, emailed, tweeted or (nicely!) confronted me personally during my sudden absence. Your words have been most encouraging and if it were possible I’d take you all out for coffee and a long browse through a bookstore.

New books acquired in February 2011

Not quite as much as I would have usually bought in the past as my bookbuying habits have been severely curtailed for a number of reasons. However, I like to think that this just means I’m more selective about what I purchase. Maybe, maybe not!

Book Loot: Week Ending October 17th, 2010

New Books:The Reader by Frank W. Benson (1910)

Kind of a ridiculously huge haul this week. If the mailbox isn’t empty, it is stuffed full. With the Australian dollar at a twenty-seven year high at the moment, this is likely to continue.

Reviews Posted on Start Narrative Here this week:

Links:

I spent much of the second half of the week blacked out by a migraine, so the only thing I could think of ranting about were the pharmaceutical industry and healthcare industry in general. But, then I googled my doctor and discovered that he is something of an avid Dungeons & Dragons player and so all is, until the next debilitating migraine at least, forgotten. “We’ve got a level 26 booknerd who has been attacked by a vicious migraine maelstrom. Roll die to determine next move.”

Anyway, links:

Image: The Reader by Frank W. Benson (1910)

Book Loot: Week Ending 28th March, 2010

Portrait Fille by Tamara de LempickaSincerest apologies for my unexpected week long absence from the world of book blogging, but sometimes music, friends and adventure are necessary diversions for maintaining sanity. Reviews will resume as usual from Wednesday. I went to Sydney during the week to see one of my favourite bands play live (and saw them again just a few days later in Melbourne.), hung out in the city for a few days, very maturely and joyously jumped on the hotel bed to pop music, hugged a superhero, got drunk with a British tourist, went book shopping:

A loot which did not interfere with my baggage limits, thank goodness. My favourite place in all of Sydney would have to be Kinokuniya, which had the most diverse range of books I have ever seen in a store. I said to my traveling companion Matt, “I hope you don’t get bored waiting around for me” but it turned out that he was just as enraptured by the store as I was. Later that evening, after our minds were blown by the experience of seeing Brand New live again, in a new city, new setlists, right up the front, sweaty, dancing and screaming; we agreed to get some food and end the night there. We were in bed before midnight, each of us reading our new books by lamplight like some oddball married couple, which was a little bit cute.

It was TOTALLY worth traveling all that way to see the band, such an intense live show and it strangely and inexplicably felt like closure and a new beginning at the same time. Not just garden variety closure, but boarding the windows, bolting the door shut, throwing away the keys to the locks, digging a moat around it, throwing a couple of nasty beasts into the moat, and blowing up the bridge to prevent anything from that part of the past returning. All that just from seeing a band! It feels like a pretty miraculous and exciting place to be.

[Image: Portrait Fille by Tamara de Lempicka]

Booking Through Thursday: Recent Best

Booking Through ThursdayWhat’s the best book you’ve read recently?

The Heart is a Lonely Hunter - Carson McCullersIn terms of fiction, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers has affected me profoundly, and in so many ways. It reminded me of the places a novel can take you. When I was reading it I was transported to two places at once: 1. to some distant nostalgic place in my childhood, of getting lost in books and tales of other people, of sitting curled up and reading for hours and hours. 2. to the place evoked in the story. McCullers’ use of language is so deceptively sparse, yet manages to contain and convey all elements of human experience within it. There were times when I was just totally knocked out by how wonderfully she expressed particular things, but most of all, loneliness. This woman just seemed to understand it and able to sum it up in such a succinct way that makes you feel, maybe, a little less alone. It is a book about how we see people as we want to, as we need to, we endlessly project our needs and desires onto them, however far removed from reality that may be. Everything is misunderstood, miscommunicated. Human frailty and strength. The hopelessness and necessity of hope. I know that this is a book that I will frequently return to.

Likewise, the best non-fiction book I’ve read recently would have to be The Lonely The Lonely Hunter: A Biography of Carson McCullers - Virginia Spencer CarrHunter: A Biography of Carson McCullers by Virginia Spencer Carr. I make no secret of the fact that I am slightly obsessed with Ms. McCullers. Discovering her work has been one of my highlights of this year. It is inspiring, sad, beautiful and strong. Evocative, poetic, humane. There aren’t enough words for how I feel about her work. Then there was the haunting dark-eyed woman that stared out at me from the Google Image Search. She looked so child-like and yet she wrote of these eternal human struggles in such a powerful way. I was hooked, I was intrigued and I had to know more. This biography was really, really thorough. All the scandalous aspects of her life are examined in details – of particular interest is her tumultuous relationship with Reeves McCullers. She married him quite young, divorced him a few years later, then after he’d gone to fight in the war and she was a hugely successful writer, remarried him. This marriage ended in Reeves’ suicide, intended to be a double suicide, which Carson narrowly escaped from. It has all the makings of salacious gossip, but it is treated with such careful respect for all involved, while not afraid to look at the really messy, horrible parts of their relationship. Her instant success at such a young age, her endless struggle with the creative process, her spiritual loneliness, her unrequited loves. I think she was a beautiful and sad individual, troubled and talented. Through all she went through, she seemed to maintain a really strong sense of self and spark. Her life story was terribly melancholic, but I also found it hugely inspiring.

One of my favourite parts was when McCullers and Tennessee Williams got their revenge on an interfering neighbour by pouring good scotch into their pig trough; they spent the evening sitting and laughing at the pigs getting drunk. Williams said of the event: “It was an expensive amusement – all that scotch – but we both felt better afterwards.”