the growler

The Women, by T. C. Boyle

2009-07-12T12:12:00.000-07:00

The Women, by T.C. Boyle, is a novel that depicts the relationships the famous American architect Frank Lloyd Wright had with four women in his life. Boyle creates a narrator for this saga, one Sato Tadashi, a young man from Japan who reveres the famous architect and has come to Wisconsin to be one of Wright's apprentices at Taliesin.

Even though this is a novel, and Tadashi is an invented character, almost all the events depicted in this book are known to be true. I found Boyle's way of expanding on these facts to be fascinating, and I also really liked Tadashi. He is an excellent vehicle to speak for the apprentices, who paid tuition to Wright so that they could work their backsides off, spending more time at their farm chores than at their drawing boards. Tadashi also has the bad luck of being at Taliesin during the bombing of Pearl Harbor, and so spends WWII in an internment camp. I kept forgetting that Tadashi was a fictional man, Boyle's deft depiction of how these obscure apprentices sacrificed years of their lives to be near greatness, and also a reminder of the prejudices of the times.

Boyle chooses to introduce us to these women in reverse order, going back in time, since Tadashi arrives in the 1930s in time to meet Wrieto-San's last wife. However, I will mention them in chronological order, as is my wont:

Wright's first wife was Catherine "Kitty" Tobin, just seventeen years old when she married him in 1899. They had six children. Boyle does not fill in many details of this relationship for us, since Kitty must have had her hands full with children and housework, while Frank was out hustling commissions to support his large family. The one common thread stitched into all these stories is that Frank doesn't pay his bills. Kitty is the one who is left to feel uncomfortable everytime she gets groceries, being constantly reminded of their ever-growing debt. Frank is oblivious to these--little troubles, and always seems to have everything he wants.

Speaking of that, it is not long before Frank decides that he wants to be married to the wife of one of his clients. While designing a house for Edwin Cheney, he runs off to Europe with Edwin's wife, Mamah Borthwick Cheney. They both abandon their spouses and children in an act that is seen as immoral and selfish, and the scandal that follows almost ruins Frank's career. Kitty doesn't even know of this until the reporters come for her statement. This was Frank at his cruelest.

Frank and Mamah lived together without the benefit of marriage, and for this they were generally shunned, especially Mamah. (Frank's women always suffered.) It was somewhat ironic that Mamah was very much interested in the feminist movement and working on a translation of a feminist writer's work while living at Taliesin, the home Frank built for the two of them, when she was tragically murdered by a servant named Julian Carlton. ( Taliesin murders ) Seven people were murdered that day, including Mamah's visiting children, who were 12 and 9 years old. I found myself worrying about the fate of the murderer's young wife Gertrude, who was certainly not involved. The motive is still unknown, but Boyle imagines a very likely one.

Soon after Mamah's shocking death, while Frank is still mourning and vulnerable, a woman named Maude "Miriam" Noel insinuates her way into his life, and this is the start of a very bad time; Miriam is portrayed as the worst kind of opportunist, and she was definitely addicted to morphine. This marriage is over within a year, and while Frank is separated from Miriam, he meets Olga Lazovich Hinzenburg, or Olgivanna for--short, who will be his last wife.

His early days with Olgivanna are marred by Miriam. The way she torments, harasses, and actually stalks Frank and Olgivanna, even after being offered a very reasonable divorce settlement, would probably land Miriam in jail today, or at least rehab. Actually, my only real criticism of this novel is that there's too much Miriam in it, even though I realize that Frank's battle with her lasted a long time, possibly three times longer than their short marriage. In short, it was incredibly ugly and tedious.

Overall, I enjoyed this novel very much, and can see why Boyle decided to portray Wright's wives in reverse order, since it made for a more climatic ending than the other way around. How Frank Lloyd Wright managed to create such marvelous work with all this going on in the background is a mystery.

Into July

2009-07-06T07:41:00.000-07:00

There hasn't been much to write about lately, nothing that would seem at all interesting. Work--that j.o.b. I report to--is still a bit wacked out, things changing up constantly, plenty of unhappy coworkers, enough drama and paranoia going around to make things generally unpleasant, even if you're trying hard not to pay attention it. Breathe in, breathe out...

We've caught two movies on Netflicks recently, both very good and very depressing: Rachel Getting Married and Elegy. Movies that revolve around weddings usually contain a good dose of humor, but the former movie had none of that, while the theme of the latter was death. It's just a happy carefree life, over here at Acton & Ekim's!

It's been an unusually cool, rainy season, so far. Corn that's supposed to be "knee high by the Fourth of July" looks to be hip high, to me. I love corn. We passed by Hershey Park yesterday, and the area was unusually quiet, as were those roadside stands selling fireworks. It was a lovely day, as it is today--but cooler and less humid that usual. I should go catch some of this sunshine.

It's taking me forever to get through my latest read, but not because it's no good. I'm in one of my bluish periods that will pass, and having a little trouble staying focused, and guess what? This book is rather--depressing. Perhaps it's a mid-life crisis. I should just go for a run, but.

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So, I'm sittin' here doin' nuthin' and so my mom calls and it turns out she's doin' the same thing, so we decide to go do it together. Nuthin's always better with company. So, we went to see the riverfront music fest, and watched a belly dancer and drank a beer and ate sweet potato fries. It really was a perfect day. Reminded me of a song...Saturday, in the park, in think it was the fourth of July...except this was Sunday in the park, and it was definitely the fifth of July. Only happens every seven years, I suppose. So anyway, I had my nap and my sunshine, too.

Things are looking so much better.

Rabbit, rabbit!

2009-06-30T19:03:00.000-07:00

How much rabbit's in the Speed Rabbit Pizza? I'm trying to keep my calories down. Evidently, this is a French establishment, perhaps a gourmet option I've never heard of before.

Anyway, good luck in July!

The Ultimate Day of June

2009-06-30T04:51:00.000-07:00

This is the last day of June, People. Do. Not. Forget to rabbit, rabbit tomorrow morning!

In June
I saw a charming group
of roses all begin
to droop.
I peeped them up
with chicken soup!
Sprinkle once
sprinkle twice
sprinkle chicken soup
with rice.
(Maurice Sendak)

Bye, bye, June of 2009. Hard to believe that in just four short days, we will hit the middle of the year.

Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon

2009-06-28T16:16:00.000-07:00

Oh, it's been a Nap Fest, I'll admit it. It's a rather gray day, too, not too hot. Comfy.

We watched Rachel Getting Married last night, and give it two thumbs up. I would expect a movie that revolves around a wedding to be funny, but this movie is an exception. Very good, but very sad, but sad in a very real way, not maudlin or tear-jerky. Everyone was good, and it was as thought-provoking as a densely written novel.

During my lazy Sunday, I've been trying to read (between nodding off) and browsing pictures. I think I have a need to waste time. Down time. Some of us need more of it than others do. I've also been sort-of reading the paper, and skimming magazines, too. I absolutely love the VISA debit card advertisements.

Have you ever overdosed on wasabi? Yes. Yes, I have, and when I do, I feel the sensation in the back of my head, near my occipital ridge. Not good, but I've learned to be very careful.

I'm slowly making my way through a book about Frank Floyd Wright, and I'm learning about all kinds of stuff, including the Mann Act of 1913:

The Mann Act made it a felony to transport or aid in the transportation of a woman in interstate or foreign commerce “for the purpose of prostitution or debauchery, or for any other immoral purpose, or with the intent and purpose to induce, entice, or compel such woman or girl” to immoral acts.

So--a man who crossed a state line with a woman not his wife could be jailed. Interesting.

Happy Monday, everyone!

Friday!

2009-06-26T04:21:00.001-07:00

And the first Friday of summer, too. It's hot, it feels like summer, and I plan on vegging at the pool and actually getting some reading done.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Just a few words...

2009-06-25T17:04:00.000-07:00

The news that's overshadowing everything at this moment is Michael Jackson's untimely death. I felt sorry for Michael Jackson. As a child of the 70s, I enjoyed his music when he was a boy performing with his brothers and watched him as a very shy, uncomfortable young man in the 80's, while his fame was at its peak. I will always wonder what happened, what drove someone so talented and loved to become so bizarre. Why all the plastic surgery? At least one surgeon should be in jail. He was a cute boy and nice-looking young man. Why so uncomfortable in his own skin? Had Michael himself been molested as a boy? It's a question that's always crossed my mind, because it could explain the not wanting to be--Michael Jackson.

An entire life of unprecedented fame was also to blame. If fame is bad for a person's overall well-being, Michael Jackson was a dead man walking. So cloistered, so introverted, so out-of-touch with real life, it's hard to believe anyone really knew him.

Perhaps Michael Jackson has found his never-never land.

Beautiful birds

2009-06-24T16:28:00.000-07:00

I didn't know about Duck Stamps. This is an example of a Federal Duck Stamp:

Fifteen dollars??? That's right--they are not for postal use. The money goes towards conservation, and they also double as a duck-hunting license for hunters over the age of 16 and an entrance fee into wildlife preserves for birders. Conservationists and collectors buy both Federal and Junior Duck Stamps--just cuz. There is an art contest every year for the glory of being the creator of a Duck Stamp image. (The beautiful rendition of snow geese was Ron Louque's creation)
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The Junior Duck Stamps are examples of artwork done by artists under the age of 18, and this particular one was created by Bonnie Latham, who was 16 years old at the time when she won this art contest.

This year's junior contest winner was another 16-year-old, Lily Spang. A competition is held at the state level, then the winners from each state go on to compete nationally. This final contest is held on Earth Day--what a neat idea. It's a great way for young people to get involved and raise money to support their environment. I wonder how I missed hearing about this.

I need to get out more, obviously.

Progressing

2009-06-23T18:21:00.001-07:00

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Wish it were always true...
Just a month ago, I was describing how dull, smooth, and tranquil work had become. Well, we hit a storm, and are slooooooooowly sailing through it. One day at a time. The experience has been a shaker, and it's hard to describe why. Even though it's just a job, it's shocking when things change so much overnight. And it was overnight. In many ways, we've all started new jobs, and everyone is feeling either unhappy or stressed or both.

But, it's getting quieter. The phones aren't ringing all day anymore. People aren't complaining to us as often. We haven't been in the local paper for days now. That'll change, because we're about to be sued by another institution, but this is a nice lull.

I must find time to get to the pool this weekend! It's summer. Are we having fun, yet?

What's for dessert?

2009-06-22T12:31:00.000-07:00

Oh, hi. Just borrowin' your seat as soon as you're not using it.

I'm thankful that my pet is small enough to pick up and move, when she gets pesty.

Cloudy with a chance of rest, and Father's Day

2009-06-21T00:01:00.000-07:00

Yippee! It's the weekend, and I don't have to work at all for the first time in nine days. The bad news is that I'm insane, grouchy, easily annoyed, confused, permanently sleepy, and totally nonfunctional. More than usual, I mean.

And...Happy Father's Day to all you dads!
I'm feeling very thankful to be able to spend time with my father today, and hope it's a great day for everyone.

And if you're not a dad and can't spend time with your dad, I hope you enjoy the first day of summer.

Ups and Downs

2009-06-16T06:25:00.000-07:00

This week, starting with the previous weekend, is Hell Week at work. I'm really hoping that it doesn't turn into Hell Week Part II next week. In fact, I bet we'll make the local news. People will probably shy away from applying to work with us.

Oh, let's see--the short story is, the bank I'm working for split, part of it being bought out by another bank. Then, the remaining part of the bank, where I work, bought out another bank, so now we are changing our name (which is legally necessary), and getting a whole new computer system. It's. been. hell. Absolutely everything's buggy, people can't see their accounts online, some people's debit/check cards are being denied for no good reason, we can't even print out statements. The phones are ringing ALL DAY. At one point, all our computers were frozen, in all branches. Synchronicity. The IT department has been taking hours to get back to us with any answers. Many of us tellers have been giving customers make-shift receipts for their transactions, since the printers aren't even functioning properly.

Do I feel sorry for IT? Yes. Yes, I do. And yet. We're the ones who have to use this....system. Oi

The Falls by Joyce Carol Oates

2009-06-12T15:48:00.000-07:00

I've been meaning to rhapsodize about my latest read for several days, but I've been too exhausted to do it. That's another story, though.

Joyce Carol Oates expertly takes cultural icons and important events and builds novels around them that seem vividly real--as they could very well be.

The Falls is actually several stories all wrapped into one novel. First, we meet Ariah Erksine, a newlywed whose husband commits suicide the morning after their wedding night by getting up early, racing to the falls, and plunging in. This is the strange event that gets the novel going. JCO is very good at this; many of her novels begin with events that are very strange and very tragic, but they are always believable when they roll off her pen.

The second strange event is that Dirk Burnaby, a lawyer friend of the local entrepreneur who happens to own the hotel at which Ariah is staying, and a rich, highly eligible bachelor, falls in love with Ariah while she keeps her eccentric, week-long vigil by the falls, until rescue crews find her husband's corpse. She becomes known as The Widow Bride of the Falls, and winds up marrying Burnaby a short time later, a man she barely knows. He's persuasive.

The two of them have a very passionate relationship and three children, before Dirk Burnaby becomes engrossed in the first Love Canal Case--this is 1962. Here, JCO provides a short history of the Love Canal tragedy that is both succinct and riveting, though she does change the names. I've googled enough to know that the basic facts are correct. This case was never resolved until 1978, and Burnably did not live to see it. On the contrary, his life was ruined because he took this case.

The latter part of the book follows his children, their relationship with their strange, damaged mother, and how each of them play a part in discovering a part of their father's past, despite their mother's determined silence. This is a family history that takes place in the wake of the famous Niagara Falls, and I found it quite poignant.

I became quite involved with this novel, and liked most of the principal characters. Though long, at 481 pages, it went by rather quickly, and I would gladly recommend it to most people.

Of Jerkiness and Luckiness

2009-06-10T07:17:00.000-07:00

This past weekend was a very busy one which started early Saturday morning, and became all the busier because I put my stupidest foot forward. Actually, I put my heaviest foot on the gas pedal on a curvy spot in a road where the road was still very wet from all the rain we'd had the previous evening. And previous day, and the day before that...anyway, I learned that one could hydroplane in one second flat. Shhh, I haven't admitted this mistake to most other people who didn't see the front right wheel of my poor, adorable little '95 Geo after I skidded and slammed into the curb.

I got to my destination, but it was obvious that not only was the wheel damaged, but the car was seriously out of alignment. To drive in a straight line, I had to keep the steering wheel cocked to the left. Already frazzled and upset, I became absolutely annoyed and vexed with the way everyone who saw that wheel knew exactly what I'd just done. You hit a curb. Of course, these are people who get up early in order to annoy me, but this time, I'd driven in with a KICK ME sign on my forehead. Nothin' I could do about it.

Ekim came to the rescue, of course, putting on my spare and driving ahead of me home, in case I had problems. Then, it was off to the nieces' graduation! It was a lovely, festive day in the park, exciting and happy! What a morning. It looked like the whole community was there. Ekim and I got to congratulate the girls and their proud parents, and then had a very nice lunchtime with my parents (TLP and Niks).

And then--Ekim raised the question should we repair this car? He thought not, and--facing what I'd done to it, I had to agree. Wheel, tire, alignment, and something under there looked bent. This looked hideously expensive for a car that's been around for fourteen years.

We went from lunch to used car shopping. It was a most productive day. We searched several lots, got a couple prices, and then settled on a 2006 Saturn Ion, the nicest car I've ever owned.

I don't deserve this car, and I feel guilty about wrecking and leaving my little red friend behind, but--I do love this Ion. I can't help it. I was lucky that I wasn't hurt, lucky I didn't hurt anyone or anything else, lucky that I didn't even miss an event, and lucky that we were able to buy me another car, and so quickly. No one was even inconvenienced.

AND, they're inspecting it for me, on my day off.
Wow. This is how I feel.

I've been telling people that it was just time to replace the Geo. I don't feel the need to advertise the fact that I do stupid things--that's obvious enough.

Wow

2009-06-03T03:58:00.001-07:00

Just imagine, I've lived this long without ever hearing of Cappodocia, and without giving too much thought about why people would spend their precious vacation time traveling so far away.

Cappadocia, Turkey, is known for its underground cities, "fairy chimneys," and balloon tours during which people can ooo and aaaaaaaaaah over this region's landscape.

Doesn't this look cozy?

The history of this region is as rich as its color. The Silk Road traversed this area.

So, now I understand.

Rabbit, rabbit

2009-06-01T00:01:00.000-07:00

Rabbit, rabbit!! Good luck in June! JUNE???? This year is whizzing by, bye bye.

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Despite the fact that I had to work on Saturday, it was a great weekend. It wasn't until late afternoon on Sunday when I heard (on NPR) that Dr. George Tiller had been slain at The Reformation Lutheran Church in Wichita, Kansas. How horrible, shocking, scary, and sad for his family and friends and everyone who attends his church, and how ironic that a self-righteous criminal should shoot and kill Tiller in a "house of god." It will be most interesting to find out what kind of Christian the slayer is supposed to be.

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Concerning that little problem I mentioned in my last post: evidently, PennDot's records simply showed a typo/error, making the first digit in my social security number a 9, which would indicate a TIN number for tax purposes used by a non-U.S. citizen. These letters were supposed to capture illegal aliens using other people's SSN's. I suppose it would be overly dramatic to call myself a dolphin caught in a tuna net, but--it was alarming and damned inconvenient.

Have a great first week of June--it always feels like the beginning of summer.

Happy Weekend!

2009-05-29T14:17:00.000-07:00

This was too good, so I stole it...the shadow reminded me of some of Ariel's work.

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This just in: I got an urgent letter in the mail from PENNDOT today informing me that my driving privilege is being cancelled effective June 19, 2009 at 12:01am as authorized by....of the Vehicle Code. In order to obtain reconsideration of this cancellation, I must take my social security card (and one of the following forms of ID) into the license center--soon.

Ugh. Out of the blue, like that, and I have a recent license! It seems that they need to verify that the SS card I used way back when I first got my license is the same. Happy weekend to you guys, too, Penndot.

Floating, elms, books, and such.

2009-05-28T13:54:00.000-07:00

I slept in, luxuriously long, dreaming of random things. Faces, dogs, warmth, books, floating, wind, and elms. There were lots of elms. Probably this was remembrance of elms passed this past weekend.

And in the back of my mind, while I was floating around, I was aware of something sometimes moving, sometimes still, leaning up against me. Everytime I moved, there was movement. Back and forth across me, against me, beside me. Slowly, I awoke.

Serena gave me her distinctive "not amused" look. Yes, yes, it's getting to be midmorning, and there are important things to be done. For her.

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But wait: I did mention a book, and there is one: Gentlemen of the Road, by Michael Chabon. This is a short adventure novel set at the time of the Khazar Empire, and the two main characters are Zelikman, a Jew who is described as skinny, pale, blonde, and dressed all in black, and Amram, an African of opposite stature. The two men have a strong bond and make their living by their wits. They are intriguing characters, but they are never fully developed. I would have enjoyed knowing more about the history of this friendship. Anyway, the two of them wind up getting involved in an adventure in which the stakes are much higher than usual, a very serious affair in which they guard and protect an endangered prince.

This novel may be short, but it's not a quick read; I found it to be slow-moving and bogged down with historical references that made the plot seem unnecessarily complicated. There is some fun humor, though I'm not sure I got all of it, and Chabon always works his magic with great phrases, but I think his longer novels may be more to my liking. Chabon has invented some wonderful personalities in his books, but Zelikman and Amram are pretty much stock characters, and this adventure lacks intensity.

Oh, well. Can't love them all, I guess, but I do give this one an A for being unique.

Sunday funnies and such

2009-05-24T10:14:00.000-07:00

Ekim (the hubby) has that dreaded sudoku addiction, and has come to look forward to doing the one in the Sunday paper because it is especially challenging. This week's Sunday sudoku has an added challenge: size. This might be the funniest misprint I've seen in a long time.

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We're having a beautiful weekend here, though I've wasted lots of it! The heat is here, which means that if I'm serious about running more than I have been, then I will need to get my lazy bones up early. EARLY. I ran on Friday afternoon and had to will myself to finish, but this morning (midmorning, already 82 degrees), I found myself walking the last quarter of a mile. My usual route finishes uphill, and I can't do it in the heat anymore.

This is a strangely-configured weekend for me, since I have job-related training late on Memorial Day, 3pm-9pm, and the day after. Graciously, I get Wednesday off, so that's a long break from the same old-same old.

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Today is Michael Chabon's 46th birthday. Coincidentally, I just happen to be reading one of his stories now. (The link provides the scoop on what we missed when he visited Ekim's alma mater recently).

Have a great rest of the weekend!

Some Days Have Themes

2009-05-19T18:50:00.000-07:00

Today's theme: You don't have as much time as you think. I thought I had more time this morning to sleep. I thought I had more time between work and a meeting. I thought I had more time on upcoming weekends. Wrong, wrong, wrong, and wrong again.

Ack. During the winter, I get cabin-fever-doldrums, and didn't like that at all, but now that I have just a few things on the calendar, I'm all confused, messing up stuff, creating conflicts for myself.

And now, I must stop scribbling, writing, or whinging, whatever it is I'm doing, and get to bed. I'm out of time.

The Stone Diaries by Carol Shields

2009-05-16T12:48:00.000-07:00

The Stone Diaries, by Carol Shields, is another one of those beautiful roses that I would not have appreciated at an earlier age. (According to Amazon, this book is frequently purchased with my last read. That's almost scary.)

This is the fictional autobiography of Daisy Goodwill Flett, a woman whose life spanned almost a century. Daisy knew absolutely nothing about Mercy Goodwill, her mother, who died giving birth to her in 1905, and never really bonded with her father, who did not raise her during her early childhood. She was born in Tyndall, Manitoba, but raised in Winnipeg by Clarentine, a middle-aged woman who had befriended her mother. Unfortunately, Clarentine met an untimely death when Daisy is eleven, and that is when she joined her father, Cuyler Goodwill, in Indiana. Got that? Daisy was repotted many times in her life. She was widowed twice, became enthralled with a career as a columnist at a local newspaper, where she was known as Mrs. Greenthumb, suffered a nervous breakdown when this career ended, but eventually recovered and then struggled to make sense of who she was and what her life was about.

Daisy Goodwill Flett's life was certainly not unusual or interesting, but Carol Shields allows us to see her from all sides, from different points of view, and explores what a life story is, exactly--is it what others remember about Daisy, what Daisy herself remembered and believed, or is her story the sum of the documented facts about her? I found this book tragic because she is so all alone most of her life, especially at the end, when she cannot make herself understood and is left with her memories. Her children are puzzled as to why she would leave this possession or that to them, and when they encountered facts they did not know about, they misinterpreted them. Surely, Daisy's last life, in a retirement home in Florida, must have been unrecognizable to her. At this point, her children and grandchildren were geographically spread far and wide, and Grandma Flett became an idea, an abstraction. In the end, her children even chose the wrong flower for her funeral.

When I read obituaries of women who were born eighty or more years ago, I'll wonder all the more what exactly happened between bridge club, gardening, and cooking. Is that all there was? The Stone Diaries is a fascinating novel that will stay in my mind for awhile.

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And I can't resist a great picture--

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I'd mentioned, at some earlier time, that I have dueling default browers. Today's livesearch informs me that when a group of peacocks and peahens roust together in a tree, it's called a party. Party!

Welcome to the middle of May

2009-05-15T00:00:00.000-07:00

Today may be called the Ides of May, the middle of May, or just plain Friday. Friday! It's the beginning of the weekend, when all those things I keep thinking about doing still seem possible. A day looking forward to the next two days, full of possibilities.

There haven't been many inches here dedicated to my current job recently, and I suppose that's because things are rather smooth and dull for me. That does not mean that there is no high drama taking place, it just means that I am blissfully not involved. A couple of my coworkers have ranted and filled my ears with various outrages, and I do sympathize, I really do--but after all the jagged stress and even hated I felt every single day in The Warehouse from Hell, I'm not willing to own another problem. Ever.

Ennui has made more gamblers than avarice, more drunkards than thirst, and perhaps as many suicides as despair. Buddha

I am doing a pretty good job at staying in my tranquil place, thankyouverymuch. No outstanding worries at this time.

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For those Beatles fans, May 15, 1970, was the day that their last LP, Let it Be, was released in the US.

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Hey, whatever gets you through the night...it's alright, alright. But I'd love to know what this stuff is.

Meme

2009-05-08T18:31:00.000-07:00

Siobhán taged me for a meme! I'm really late with this because I'm lame and slow, but--here it goes. I'm supposed to be succinct.

Current obsession? My new bicycle

Favorite clothing? jeans

Dinner today? frozen seafood enchiladas

Listening? Cole Porter (soundtrack to DeLovely and also Ella Fitzgerald's recordings)

Message to tagger? You're so lucky to be from the land of Guinness

Favorite vacation? Maya Riviera region of Mexico

Reading? The Stone Diaries by Carol Shields

Me in 4 words? Quiet, introverted, lush, eater

Guilty pleasure? McDonald's

Spring? warmer weather, sunshine!!!

Looking forward to... spending time with my mother on Sunday!

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Caption: Cat spit was good enough for my mother, and it's good enough for me.

If you're reading this, I hope you do this meme. It's easy and fun! Thank you for tagging me, Siobhan.
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On my way home from work today (Friday), my itty bitty car started to sound like a pickup truck. Loud. Since Ekim beat me home, I kept it running in the driveway, and had him come and take a look. The exhaust pipe is rusted clear through. Wonderful, wonderful. Saturday will be Nocartoday. I suppose it's a lucky thing it happened over a weekend.

Have a great Saturday!

The World Jane Built

2009-05-07T12:00:00.000-07:00

I reckon I enjoy a good laugh as much as anyone, and according to the reviews I've read of the above book, some Austen fans think this is really funny, while others are not amused one bit. Maybe even a little huffy.

Jane Austen has had a definite influence on fiction, and the number of modern day novels she's inspired is impressive. I've already mentioned Stephanie Barron's
Jane and the Unpleasantness at Scargrave Manor: Being the First Jane Austen Mystery, and I believe I wrote a review of Karen Joy Fowler's The Jane Austen Book Club, and perhaps one on Bridget Jones's Diary, by Helen Fielding, but these examples are just lone cobs in an immense silo, stored up and ready to be devoured. The latest kernel is Mr. Darcy's Diary, by Amanda Grange.

Of course, not all of these Austen-inspired tomes are about Pride and Prejudice--Joan Aiken has written a sequel to Sense and Sensibility, called Eliza's Daughter, and also The Youngest Miss Ward, which takes off from Mansfield Park, one of Austen's lesser-known stories.

I was pondering this subject after coming across, in that old used bookstore in Chicago, an old collection of Jane Austen's juvenilia, or the stuff she wrote as a kid. They were asking way too much for it and it wasn't in good condition, so I left it behind. But just think: she's so famous, popular, and speculated-about, that her childhood and teen aged experiments have been published and studied.

Jane Austen died early, at 41, and rather poor. So much talent, so little attention, in her time. During her lifetime, all of her novels were written "by a lady," not Jane Austen (Persuasion and Northanger Abbey were published posthumously).

When I'm feeling that life is dull and a little depressing, it helps to think about how I define dull and depressing. I am certainly living better on less work than my counterparts in the early 1800s, and I can't complain that I've been sitting around a parsonage all day with very little to read. Good thing Jane had her imagination.

So. Happy Friday, everyone! Have a glorious weekend.

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And just one more thing: What is with all the zombie books? Do they plan to take over the fantasy genre?

And, I can't resist:

Nothing to say Wednesday

2009-05-06T00:00:00.000-07:00

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Ed Alonzo is SO funny, one of my favorite magicians.

Have a happy Wednesday, enjoy a laugh or two!