Jill Reads, Rummages, and Sorts Through Things in 2024 - Part Three

Jill polishes her halo virtuously and resolves to read all the books she already owns.

One quick note. Did any of the rest of you notice that this is #JaneAustenJuly? I saw on YouTube that all kinds of people are posting what they'll be reading in accordance with this challenge. It involves reading one of Jane Austen's great six novels, one of her unfinished works or one of the Juvenilia, a non-fiction book about Jane Austen, a variant of one of her novels, a book by one of her contemporaries, and watching two screen adaptations having to do with Austen.

No worries. I don't think I will go quite that whole hog. I did dip into P&P recently.

>1 jillmwo: Happy new thread! I don't think it is possible to read all of the books you own, is it?

I had not noticed that, it probably will be a day or so until someone on Facebook mentions it.

>1 jillmwo: Happy New Thread. I think >2 Karlstar: is correct. It's not possible, unless you are one of those unusual people who won't buy new books until you've read the ones you already have.

Happy new thread! Jill polishes her halo virtuously and resolves to read all the books she already owns: yeah, right. Halo got a bit dusty when you went rogue? >3 clamairy: unless you are one of those unusual people who won't buy new books until you've read the ones you already have: how does this work if you're one of those unusual people who doesn't buy more copies of books you already own?

Happy New Thread!
I am preparing for a barrage of BBs in your new thread.

Happy New Thread! :)

So here are my 1000 words for the day. I spent some time on Friday with my copy of Owen Wister’s The Virginian. I wanted to make a decision about whether I was going to let it go or whether I would hold on to it and keep it on the shelf. But it’s about time we had the talk about THOSE FINE PRESS EDITIONS. Now my copy was not one for which I had spent more than $20-$25. I wasn’t that keen on owning it, But I had gotten a used copy – one put out by Easton Press.

Mine is part of their Masterpieces of American Literature series. (I could identify at least two and possibly three additional covers for other editions from Easton at other points in time.) Now, held in the hands or viewed on the shelf, it is eye-catching – even impressive. The physical copy is about 9-¼ inches by 7 inches with a spine thickness of about 1-½ inches. It’s a big leather-bound book, but more importantly, it’s heavy. Perhaps as much as a pound and a half in weight. It’s not easily held in hands the size of mine; both weight and size make it feel unwieldy.

Easton did add value by spending on the artwork. There is a lovely frontispiece with a portrait of Wister himself (1860-1938). There is a double page spread in watercolor that shows a man on a horse, alone on the land. Throughout there are pen and ink drawings, illustrations colored in watercolor washes. In terms of the cover, a detailed image of a saddle is shown on both the front and back covers. On the spine appear five panels – one box with the title, one box with the author name, and each of the other three panels showing a horse’s saddle. Cover images are in gold and the page edges are also gilded in gold (top, bottom and side).

Now why did I even buy this thing in the first place? I had a sentimental tie to the title because a dear friend had recommended it to me. All I knew of it came from a memory of the Classic Comic Illustrated version. What mostly I remembered was that it was cowboys behaving badly (the prank played on the various pioneer settler families where they swapped around all the sleeping babies). She’d persuaded me that really the book was more of a love story between the school teacher (Mollie) and the Virginian. I read one of those Signet Classic paperbacks and learned that she did have a point. There is a love story.

The other reason I had bought it was because I thought one of my two sons might want to read it. Thwarting a mother’s fond hopes, neither had any interest in it at all.

So at any rate, I have this chonker in my hand and flip through the pages to see if I’m at all apt to revisit the thing. Is this a classic of literature? Is it a fun read? Can it touch my heart the way things like Cranford and LOTR still do?

The book was a best seller back in 1902 when it was originally published. Wister had graduated from Harvard Law School and practiced for two years before launching a literary career through Harper’s Magazine. According to the intro in my copy, it was successful for three reasons:

(1) Wister wrote it as a reaction to the materialism in the U.S. post-Civil war culture;
(2) It centered around an American folk here – the cowboy – rather than copying from European tradition; and
(3) There was growing interest in learning more about life in the American West. (The Indian Wars were largely in the past and Easterners thought there was less danger in making any trip by rail or stagecoach.

There are elements of humor in the book. It’s not deadly serious. But it strikes me as a highly romanticized version of the American West. There is, of course, the famous line of “Smile when you call me that, Mister” happens very early on in Chapter Two, occurring in a conflict between Trampas and the Virginian. The Eastern school teacher Mollie (from Bennington, Vermont) introduces the Virginian to great literature (Shakespeare, Sir Walter Scott, and George Eliot, for starters) which one may find a bit dubious. But there’s not much here for me personally. Nothing really resonates.

So given the heaviness of the physical object and despite the lovely artwork, I think I may have to let this one go. The content doesn’t call to me. Over in the Folio Society group here on LT, there are lengthy threads talking about whether the name brand fine presses (Easton, Folio, etc.) have lost their way. They aren’t sticking to the great classics in some respects. Folio is reproducing Marvel Comics compendiums as well as George R.R. Martin rather than bringing back studious volumes of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. There are people who are perturbed that they can’t buy classic writings by the Stoics in Folio editions. Easton Press is increasingly reprinting heftly-priced science fiction and fantasy. (Neil Gaiman, for one, as well as loads of Tolkien.) However, their homepage is showing Carl Sandburg’s America as being back in stock so perhaps all is not lost.

If I have to pick between buying an Easton Press edition or a Folio edition, I will go for the Folio title almost every time. They just aren’t as heavy or as uncomfortable to hold. Smaller presses like Subterranean Press or Black Swan are (I believe) doing smaller trim sizes, but I doubt either goes for the heavy leather binding that Easton does. That binding is just too expensive.

My question to you all would be what your experience is with fine press editions (if you’ve everr bought them new or in a second-hand shop). Are they, after all, a wicked thing to spend money on? What is the value to you as a reader of an expensive binding and/or well-executed artwork? Should these things just go by the board (as has happened with what used to be the standard mass-market paperback editions)?

OOh, I forgot to add a sample quote from The Virginian. Wisteria doesn't go overboard with his descriptions but when they appear, they're not bad.

Medicine Bow was my first, and I took its dimensions, twenty-nine buildings in all,—one coal shute, one water tank, the station, one store, two eating-houses, one billiard hall, two tool-houses, one feed stable, and twelve others that for one reason and another I shall not name. Yet this wretched husk of squalor spent thought upon appearances; many houses in it wore a false front to seem as if they were two stories high. There they stood, rearing their pitiful masquerade amid a fringe of old tin cans, while at their very doors began a world of crystal light, a land without end, a space across which Noah and Adam might come straight from Genesis. Into that space went wandering a road, over a hill and down out of sight, and up again smaller in the distance, and down once more, and up once more, straining the eyes, and so away.

>7 jillmwo: I do not have a lot of experience with fine press editions. Searching through my books, I have two Easton press novels that I either bought at a book sale or used, which are both scifi/fantasy classics. The Poughkeepsie library used to have a small book sale every December and a sub-set of that sale was one room reserved for special editions, which is where I picked up To Your Scattered Bodies Go for $8. I haven't actually read it, since I've read it in other formats more than once.

I do have several Subterranean Press books and I really enjoy them, particularly the smaller ones. Mostly though, when a novel comes out by Subterranean or Grim Oak Press, the price drives me off. I'll have to look harder for used copies.

My favorite book, in terms of jacket, cover, construction, paper and interior art is Clockwork Angels The Novel. Such a great looking and feeling book.

>7 jillmwo: I remember loving The Virginian years ago when I read it. Perhaps because I grew up in the west where there were still cattle ranches, cowboys and a hint of times past in these new lands. My grandfather and dad told stories of times almost like those in The Virginian. I liked it so well that I bought a copy of Owen Wister Out West: His Journals and Letters. I believe that Wister was one of the first authors who wrote a story about the west who had actually traveled there, but I'm not sure.

My copy of The Virginian was published by Classic Press, Incorporated, in Santa Rosa, California. It was part of a series of classics published for young readers, but it is the complete and unabridged text. It also has interesting margin notes. The text on the pages is almost large print, lots of white space on the page. The book is about 9"x12", 1" thick. It is hardcover, but not quality at all. It has held up with only some edge wear. Illustrated by Don Irwin, not special, but nice. It has what they call a "Backward" at the end that gives a short bio of the author and some more details of history. I love this collection so much that I look out for them.

I am not one who purchases special press editions unless I find them used and they are a book I want. I bought a Folio edition of a collection of the writings of Dorothy Parker. It is lovely. I do wish I could afford all the lovely editions, but I can't. I do love a quality printing though.

>9 Karlstar: As a general rule, I pick up books from Easton only very rarely and only when I can get a decent price (my limit is usually 25-35 or whatever most hardcovers are going for at the moment). But the downside for me really is the weight of the bindings. I have to wonder upon occasion if Easton designs more for the male reader at times. (I haven't got anything from Subterranean Press, although I always read their promotional emails...Do you like the ones you already have?)

I haven't quite figured out why I fall prey to Folio Society editions so easily.

>10 MrsLee: Knowing that you value The Virginian so much is very near to making me go rescue my copy from the "outgoing" box. However, my spouse would groan and roll his eyes, were I to do so. That said, even knowing that it's available on Project Gutenberg, I'm really having to restrain myself.

Dench and Shakespeare: The Man Who Pays The Rent

On the one hand, this is a light read. The chapters are short. The format is that of an interview between two professional theater folk. It’s Judi Dench and I am a great fan of Dench. When I was growing up, I wanted to remind people of Katherine Hepburn (who was at least six inches taller than me and far more athletically inclined. So let’s just admit that was a pipe dream). In real life, I’m more like Judi Dench - a woman who has been married, raised children and maintained a career over decades. She is short (like me) a tad overweight (like me) and has gray-white hair (like me). The main way I fall short is due to my inability to spout off Shakespeare at the drop of a hat. But oh, if there is ever a national treasure in the forefront of England’s theater world, Dench is it. You Brits are entirely fortunate in that regard.

Her memoir is delightful and lively. Her co-author on this, Brendan O’Hea, interviewed her across a four-year span, encouraging her to comment on and analyze her roles in Shakespeare’s plays. The book opens with her discussion of MacBeth when she played Lady Macbeth against Ian MacKellan in the title role. That gets followed by her reminiscing over the various parts she played in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. She was the First Fairy as well as Titania. There are chapters devoted to 19 of Shakespeare’s plays, the obvious and easily accessible ones as well as those one has to dig a little to find on screen. I have never seen Coriolanus, but the discussion of female characters in that play sent me off to see what I might find on YouTube. I don’t need a discussion of Ophelia in Hamlet but I benefit enormously from Dench’s insights into Volumnia. (Honestly, I’ve never seen OR read this particular Shakespearean tragedy but I may well have been missing something extraordinary!) That’s one of the selling-points of this book; you find yourself learning from this actress’ insights gleaned from working with different companies on multiple stages. What do you know about performing on a lighthouse stage? (For those of us in the U.S., the phrase refers to theater in the round.)

The other impression one takes away from this is what a good-natured and fun woman this Dame of the British Empire has proven to be. (Who would have thought she could crack up Ian McKellan in the midst of a performance?)

Honestly recommended, regardless of any reader’s familiarity with the Bard!!!

>12 jillmwo: That is the second book to go on my wishlist this morning from this group. Sounds like one I would love.

>13 MrsLee: Well, that's what happens when you make me re-consider holding onto The Virginian. I am compelled to go find some title that will take up much needed space on YOUR bookshelf. Jill grins evilly.

Well now that sounds like a dandy on audio and there it is - with Dame Judi herself reciting and doing scenes and/or lines. Audible credit worthy!

>12 jillmwo: I dimly recall that we had Coriolanus as a school set work one year. Don't remember a single other thing about it.

>14 jillmwo: and >15 Bookmarque: I neglected to mention that the book includes black-and-white illustrations that Dench did herself. Done in charcoal (I think) but very nice and clearly Shakespearean characters.

>16 hfglen: And see, education in America being what it was, we didn't get Coriolanus at all. But Dench does a sufficient write-up so that you get a sense of what Shakespeare had in mind.

Yes, I heard that from the narrator in the sample and wish that the audio included them as some do have PDFs as well, but this one doesn't.

>12 jillmwo: I too love Judi Dench. Her performances are excellent and she comes across as a real person with a sound grasp on life, and an infallible memory for Shakespeare plays.

The book sounds interesting.

>11 jillmwo: I do like my Subterranean Press books, but the sample size is small, I only have two. One was a special signed edition that's still in a plastic bag that I rarely open, so it really is not a good example. I guess I need more that I'll actually read. You have me curious about the Folio Society editions now.

I should also point out, with apologies, but I really like the Everyman's Library editions too, but they aren't quite the same quality, I don't think.

>12 jillmwo: I took a hit here and have put it on hold. Sounds like great fun. I remember seeing Dench reciting a sonnet on Graham Norton and she was incredible. I enjoyed her And Furthermore... many years ago.

Re: fancy editions, I've never cared about them. I generally like trade paperbacks better than hardcovers. These days I prefer whatever the library has, because I'm buying very few books.

>12 jillmwo: Oh, lovely! Thank you :))))) I'll be keeping this one in mind.

>15 Bookmarque: & >17 jillmwo: OH well that's just great. Now I want the audio and the print. Phbt! They will both have to wait though. Budgets are a killer. Perhaps I will see what my library can do.

>23 MrsLee: Budgets are a killer. They are indeed. And when one blows through the monthly allocation for spending on desirable titles, one must make it up over the two months following the single moment of "buy button" profligacy. Two months worth of spending is what my Thingaversary Folio set sucked up (what with shipping costs from Canada, U.S. and local taxes and all). I am trying to be very, very good. I am focusing on what is currently in the house; fortunately, Jane Austen works well in this context. As does Agatha Christie. And Mrs. Gaskell. I like my halo to be shiny and I will not bring anything new into this house until September.

Translation: This is your formal notification that things might get boring for some.

Although as I now scan the book piles nearby, I realize that I can still pull in some untouched titles from recent decades. Someone in one of the Zoom cocktail hours recommended A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness to me and I do have Emily Wilson's translation of The Odyssey that my son gave me for Christmas. And cheering myself up even more, I recall that I still have a Chaz Brenchley book on the Kindle as well as one or two unread Hugo nominees. I shall ration them out like really good chocolate.

>24 jillmwo:
Have got the latest Chaz Brenchly book?

>24 jillmwo: ... things might get boring for some ...: Jill, one thing we can be confident of: whether you're overspending on books or not, you're never boring.

Noting the love for Chaz Brenchley's Crater School books in the GD, I checked the supply situation here. The local libraries have some of Brenchley's horror fiction (not to my taste, probably) but nothing of the Crater School. Amazon has the paperbacks but at A$37 a copy, no, not this week. No kindle here. Oh well.

I will be interested in anything you might say about A Discovery of Witches. One offshoot of my flirtation with Proust is a list of "long books that are worth the time", and A Discovery ... is on it. All being well, there's a copy in a box here somewhere.

>24 jillmwo: All I remember from A Discovery of Witches was how frequently the main character changed her outfits from one monochrome, grey, casual wear to another. You can never be as boring as that, jillmwo.

Dull outfits aside, the reviews for it vary widely, I will be interested to see what you think. My reaction was in the "meh" range. Never pursued the other books in the series.

>24 jillmwo: Am I reading this correctly? You have read almost all the books in your house and on your Kindle already?! Respect.

>26 haydninvienna: I am befuddled by a paperback costing A$37. I mean, I know how it can happen in Australia, but golly...

>27 MrsLee: You have read almost all the books in your house and on your Kindle already?!

Oh, good grief, no. Forgive me for leaving you with that impression! I'm truly that person who buys more than any sensible person could expect to read in any reasonable time frame. I'm the one who worries about running out of something to read and I squirrel things away as a hedge against a bleak, bored old age in the poor house. (The financial planners haven't yet persuaded me that my various holdings will outpace inflation.)

There's the whole three-volume Shelby Foote history of the Civil War in one of those book piles. That could take three to six months all by itself. He writes beautiful prose but it's still military history in large part. I still have books by Barbara Tuchman sitting in the dining room along with some by Guy Gavriel Kay. Oh, and four hefty and somewhat intimidating volumes by Karen Armstrong sit upstairs. I also have diarmaid macculloch tucked away.

As to what's on my Kindle, that too is an embarrassment, simply because I tend to see a book for $2.99 and blithely think -- Oh, how bad could it possibly be? And I've had a Kindle since 2008. Think how much crap one can accumulate over some 16 years!

>28 jillmwo: I looked at Amazon UK as well. The same book there was £15.49 (about A$30). A randomly chosen, well-regarded book of about the same length (Katherine Addison's The Grief of Stones), is £8.05. I think Chaz Brenchley and his publisher have hit the jackpot. That's capitalism, folks: supply and demand.

>28 jillmwo: You know you want to get to the Kay and Tuchman books soon! I think you were going to start The Guns of August, but I don't recall if that actually happened.

Hearkening back to the Dench memoir and her work in MacBeth, this is a video that shows the various interpretations by 4 actresses of the Lady MacBeth "Out, Damned Spot* speech. High key tension in this particular portion of the Scottish play. Watch the whole thing. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VS_Z4zBDItw&list=WL&index=14

Crime Writers of America Awards Announced: https://mysteryreadersinc.blogspot.com/2024/07/cwa-dagger-award-winners-2024.htm...
I have not read any of the winners. Not sure any of them are quite my kind of thing.

Two Lightweight Reads, But Good Ones

The Mystery of the Cape Cod Players - Published in 1933 amidst the Great Depression, this mystery takes place back when Cape Cod was still very much a rural locale. It also asks the reader the following questions:
– Who bought the gun?
– Who sent the letter?
– And what’s in the blasted safety deposit box.

Laid back investigator Asey Mayo can’t answer any of those questions in as timely a fashion as he might like. Why would anyone murder a member of this cash-poor troupe of traveling entertainers? And how disturbing that it should occur so near a lovely older woman who has been sent to Cape Cod to recuperate from a bad bout of pneumonia. An enjoyable read with just enough humor supplied via human quirkiness!

Thornhedge There’s a reason this one is up for a Hugo. The story is compelling, the writing is evocative of a fairy tale world, and the narrator is one with whom readers can readily sympathize. It also has the virtue of being short — novella-length and readily completed over the course of just a day and a half. T. Kingfisher is very good at her job and never saccharine in re-framing a familiar tale.

Esquire's List of 75 Best Sci-Fi Books of All Time
https://www.esquire.com/entertainment/books/g39358054/best-sci-fi-books/

I didn't count how many I'd read but there were a fair number I knew. Things like Hyperion, Station Eleven, The Sparrow, Brave New World, Kindred and The Left Hand of Darkness.

>34 jillmwo: I didn't count either, but was startled to see how many there were that I'd never even heard of! It's an eclectic list, isn't it? Doris Lessing mixed up with Isaac Asimov and Clifford Simak. A couple that I wouldn't have expected to see on a list of 75 best of all time: This Is How You Lose the Time War and The City and the City, although I liked both. And Frankenstein the best of the lot (and not just the first)? I wonder how they arrived at the ranking ("Now, in ranked order, here are the best science fiction books of all time.").

>34 jillmwo: >35 haydninvienna: That is quite the list, did they just choose books randomly from other 'best of' lists?

>35 haydninvienna: and >36 Karlstar: Yes, it is a very eclectic list but what I said to folks on Facebook (and in an email from a friend looking for recommendations of titles included) is that I believe this list is more about reducing Amazon's warehouse inventory of print titles than it is about anything else. The buy buttons that are part of each entry go to either a hardcover product or to a paperback product -- none go directly to a Kindle edition insofar as I could tell. (I didn't check every single instance.) So Karlstar may be onto something when he says the list reads like items pulled from other best-of lists. Amazon Prime is coming up in just a few days and this may be a somewhat veiled part of the corporate strategy to draw buyers in.

>34 jillmwo:
I have read 23 of the books on this list. Your suggestion that it is a stock-clearance ploy is more than supported by the ranking and inclusion of more recent titles.

There are a number of books on the list that I should have read, and yes I probably have a copy of those somewhere in my stacks.

The ranking is rather random. Given the likely purpose of this list I would suggest the "ranking" is probably influenced more by the volume of books to be cleared than by any objectively arrived at ranking by quality criteria.

The books I have read are:
Snow Crash by Neil Stephenson
Way Station by Clifford D. Simak
Excession by Iain M. Banks
This is how you lose the time war by Max Gladstone
Solaris by Stanislaw Lem
The Time Machine by H. G. Wells
The Stars My Destination by Alfred Bester
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams
The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet by Becky Chamers
The Children of Men by P. D. James
The City and The City by China Miéville
The Stand by Stephen King
The Forever War by Joe Haldeman
1Q84 by Haruki Murakami
Hyperion by Dan Simmons
Roadside Picnic by Arkady and Boris Strugatsky
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
The Three-Body Problem by Cixin Liu
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep by Philip K. Dick
Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel
The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin
Dune by Frank Herbert
Frankenstein by Mary Shelly

>38 pgmcc:. IMHO, you need to add some Ray Bradbury to your TBR ASAP. (See what one can do with acronyms? And I'm neither a government agent nor a management consultant.)

That list is not showing The Martian Chronicles as being a title you've read and I am verklempt at such a gap.

OTOH, I haven't read any Stanislaw Lem. Nor have I ever been able to face Robert Heinlein's The Moon is a Harsh Mistress and heaven knows, my husband thinks that one is a classic. I will review the list a bit more closely for what I have and haven't read and then we can see where the overlap is.

On an entirely different note, for those of you who enjoy the Gothic literature, there's this: https://reactormag.com/the-cruel-optimism-of-the-gothic-wealth-class-and-villain...

The Gothic re-emerges in moments of economic upheaval, but more importantly, it re-emerges when we know the old world is rotten but the new one hasn’t appeared just yet. YA fantasy is a category in flux, and it’s certainly experiencing growing pains. But what remains constant is perhaps a counterintuitive truth: both Gothic and YA fantasy are genres characterized by hope.

Not sure I agree with that last bit, but it's interesting to consider.

>33 jillmwo: T. Kingfisher does pretty much everything well, in my experience. I am glad you loved Thornhedge too :)

>34 jillmwo: This is very very eclectic list. I am onboard with the stock-clearance theory.

But I was very curious about how many I had read ;) So...

The Calculating Stars
Snow Crash
Star Maker
Way Station
The Book of Phoenix
Excession
Lord of Light
This is How You Lose the Time War
Solaris
The Moon is a Harsh Mistress
The Time Machine
The Stars My Destination
The Sparrow
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Project Hail Mary
The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet
Radiance
A Memory Called Empire
Ancillary Justice
The Forever War
Annihilation
Hyperion
Shikasta
Roadside Picnic
The Complete Robot
How to Live Safely in a Science Fictional Universe
Brave New World
1984
The Three-Body Problem
Station Eleven
Exhalation
Never Let Me Go
The Left Hand of Darkness
The Fifth Season
The Martian Chronicles
Dune

This makes 36. Thank you for this bit of geeky fun :)))

>39 jillmwo: I recall reading some Stanislaw Lem while I was still in Pretoria. Not much more that that stuck, other than that I enjoyed his stories of Trurl and Klapaucius (who turn out to be more-or-less android robots with some very human failings), but less so some of his other books. Haven't seen any in years.

>42 Alexandra_book_life: Impressive! You are ahead of me by a few. I don't think it is a coincidence that, along with >pgmcc, there's a lot of commonality in our lists, the unread books are mostly ones I've never even seen, so it might be the stock clearance theory is a factor.

>39 jillmwo:
The Martian Chronicles is one I have and should have read before. I have read Fahrenheit 451, a clear omission from the list, and Something Wicked This Way Comes as well as some of his short stories from a big omnibus two volume set of same.

I found Heinlein’s earlier works more palatable. A Stranger in a Strange Land struck me as didactic, misogynistic and a drag.

>12 jillmwo: Yeah, like >13 MrsLee: this went on my Libby wishlist.

>24 jillmwo: If you don't own A Discovery of Witches you shouldn't purchase a copy. I enjoyed it, but I seem to be alone in that... when it comes to this group anyway. Borrow it from OverDrive so you can return it if you get fed up with the weird romance.

>45 pgmcc: I recently re-read The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress and it too has its fair share of misogyny - and free sex is built into the moonies culture too, of course! Heinlein was a weird dude but he was also very good to others. The story about him helping out PKD when he was down on his luck really strikes a chord for how people with completely opposing political views could still get along back in the day. I miss those times.

As to the list... I have read 50 of them. Some of the remaining 25 are books/authors I have not heard of and...

Project Hail Mary is currently on hold w/Overdrive.
Exhalation is on my TBR shelf but probably won't get to it this year.
Shikasta was a DNF for me so not counting it.

>44 Karlstar: Thank you :) No, it's probably not a coincidence :)

>47 ScoLgo: Very impressive! 50 is a nice number.

>49 Alexandra_book_life: Well, I'm old and have been reading SF/F for a long time, so there is that... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

>46 clamairy: I enjoyed A Discovery of Witches and have read it twice.

But I don't have time anymore to read misogynistic books, no matter how "classic".

>51 reconditereader: I have no memory of it being misogynistic. I just remember that the vampires thought they were superior to all.

Re: The Esquire "Best of" List

I have not read specific titles listed by the following authors (but I have read other works by:

N.K. Jemison
Madeleine L’Engle
Robert Heinlein
Mary Robinette Kowal
Nnedi Okafore
Catherine Valente
Nicola Griffith
Margaret Atwood
Kurt Vonnegut
Isaac Asimov
Octavia Butler

Have Read From That List:

Redshirts - Scalzi
The Time Machine - Wells
The Mountain in the Sea - Nayler
The Stars My Destination - Bester
The Sparrow - Mary Doria Russell
Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Universe - Douglas Adams
A Canticle for Leibowitz - Miller
The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet - Becky Chambers
The Children of Men - P.D. James
A Memory Called Empire - Arkady Martine
Ancillary Justice - Ann Leckie
Hyperion - Dan Simmons
Red Mars - Kim Stanley Robinson
Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
1984 - George Orwell
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep - Philip K. Dick
Station Eleven - Emily St. John Mandel
The Left Hand of Darkness - Ursula K. Le Guin
The Martian Chronicles - Ray Bradbury
Dune - Frank Herbert
Frankenstein - Mary Shelley

And Tried but Abandoned (DNF)

Shikasta - Doris Lessing
Dhalgren - Samuel R. Delaney

Now I have to go look at this Bookriot list that haydninvienna referenced over in his thread: https://bookriot.com/must-read-big-books/

>52 clamairy: Oh sorry, the misogyny was Heinlein, not Harkness. I did a non sequitur.

>54 reconditereader: Phew! I thought I'd missed something. :D

>54 reconditereader: and >55 clamairy: Well, now, I almost have to read Harkness' book.

And as a quick follow-up, like you reconditereader, I do find Heinlein to be more than a bit sexist, but the man was a product of his time.

I have thoughts to share about Pride and Prejudice with regard to marital arrangements having read Rory Muir's Love and Marriage in the Age of Jane Austen. Those will be coming to this thread sometime soon.

>56 jillmwo: I always look forward to your thoughts on the books I've read. I have thoughts, really, but I don't know how to express them and they are never as coherent as yours.

>57 MrsLee: Ditto. I have the thoughts while I'm reading, and then when I go to write them down a week later there's nothing left but fragmentia...

>58 clamairy: Are you me?!?

>59 ScoLgo: :o) I suspect at least part of the problem is that in the interim I have already immersed myself in another book or three...

>58 clamairy: Well, I keep notes as I go and that helps some, but when I'm really immersed in the read, I don't want to stop and make a note, then I forget because the story has moved on.

This is making the rounds on a variety of social networks. The Best Obscure Book You've Ever Read: https://ask.metafilter.com/381046/Best-obscure-book-youve-read

The participants have indeed named some obscure titles that are new to me. Other suggestions strike me as being far from obscure (among them titles by Rumer Godden and Ursula K. Le Guin).

>62 jillmwo: I've only looked at the first part of that list but there are some of my favourite titles on it. Also, as you say, quite a few that I don't think are obscure at all. Maybe it depends where you live.

>62 jillmwo: & >63 Sakerfalcon: I hadn't heard of most of them, but there are some recent New York Times bestsellers on that list.

Numbers (as of May 2024) from the Association of American Publishers (released Jul 18 2024)

Year-to-date Trade revenues were up 5.1%, at $3.6 billion for the first five months of the year. Hardback revenues were up 3.9%, coming in at $1.3 billion; Paperbacks were up 4.6%, with $1.3 billion in revenue; Mass Market was down 15.1% to $50.5 million; and Special Bindings were up 0.8%, with $76.5 million in revenue.

eBook revenues were up 2.3% as compared to the first five months of 2023 for a total of $422.5 million. The Digital Audio format was up 22.6%, coming in at $423.7 million in revenue. Physical Audio was down 21.6% coming in at $3.7 million.

>65 jillmwo: That's encouraging. Is 'mass market' still the smaller paperback size?

>66 Karlstar:. Yes. Not nearly as ubiquitous now as it was back before the Kindle emerged.

P&P, Charlotte, and Marriage.

Where's MrsLee? I told her I had thoughts.

Some while back, I was in a group discussion about Pride and Prejudice and this lovely woman spoke of how she was always upset with Charlotte Lucas for marrying Mr. Collins. Now, if you check out the basic statistics provided in Austen’s text, we’re told that Charlotte is 27 years of age – a spinster-ish kind of age and certainly one where she’d want to be out from under parental control. Mr. Collins is 25 years of age, university-educated but totally without the kind of social skills and social contacts that would be needed to move up in his clerical profession. (How many clerical livings could such a man of the Church possibly hope for?)

From a purely pragmatic standpoint, the arrangement between these two is sensible. Between Lady Catherine De Bourgh and Sir William Lucas, Mr Collins’ standing in the existing social hierarchy is further solidified. (Sir William notes that ultimately both his daughter and her husband should make an appearance at St. James.) Charlotte is now certain of an establishment of her own, a motivation about which Austen is very clear. Charlotte accepted him “solely from the pure and disinterested desire of an establishment.” Certainly, over the first 100 -120 pages of the novel, Austen has been clear that Charlotte recognized the economic necessity of her own marriage. Another quick quote: “Her reflections were in general satisfactory. Mr. Collins to be sure was neither sensible nor agreeable; his society was irksome and his attachment to her must be imaginary…marriage was the only honorable provision for well-educated women of small fortune, and however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative from want.”

Now Elizabeth Bennett is definitely perturbed by her friend’s acceptance of Mr. Collins’ proposal, but in the context of the historical period, the engagement would have (again) been seen as sensible. The grounds of Longbourne and Lucas Lodge (if actually adjacent) might be joined as one under the combined family connections. (Yes, there are caveats to that, but the economic security of holding that much land together as an indicator of wealth and standing would have carried weight.)

At Elizabeth’s departure from the Collins’ residence some months later, Lizzie is saddened at leaving her friend to such company as Mr. Collins offers, but notes that Charlotte “did not seem to ask for compassion. Her home and her housekeeping, her parish and her poultry and all their dependent concerns had not yet lost their charms.” The use of the word yet speaks volumes.

What I saw with fresh eyes as I reread P&P these past few days was Austen’s commentary on unfortunate marriages. Mr Bennet married Mrs. Bennet on the basis of her youth and beauty without really considering whether their minds or personalities were fully suited. Wickham seeks to marry Miss King for purely mercenary reasons, specifically a fortune of 10,000 pounds. That she escapes his clutches is due to subsequent parental inquiries. But then, of course, poor Lydia ends up married to him, primarily due to lack of parental oversight and her individual idiocy. These all underscore the pleasure a reader experiences when Lizzy and Darcy manage to come together. We don’t want to see either of them in unhappy states. Our heroine and hero end up as well-matched as the Gardiners – one of the few happy marriages we see in the novel.

With P&P beside me on the one hand, I had been reading Rory Muir’s Love and Marriage in the Age of Jane Austen on the other. The book is a well-handled social history. The author’s preface notes that his aim was “to give a richly textured account of what courtship and marriage felt like for people of this class and time in all its variety and with an emphasis on the ordinary rather than the extraordinary”. Muir draws heavily on primary sources (letters, diaries, etc.) but he periodically brings forward Austen’s characters as examples.

Reading his third chapter (Courtship) as he notes how individuals might signal any attraction felt, he notes how readily Charlotte diverts Mr Collins’ attention from Lizzie, thereby allowing her friend to avoid an uncomfortable presence. Charlotte wasn’t “attracted” to William Collins in any popular sense of the word, but she wasn’t going to let a viable marriage prospect slip by. At the same time, Muir notes that even at this point in history, live (as opposed to fictional) human beings were aware of the saying about marrying in haste and repenting at leisure. He quotes from an actual letter offering a family member the advice of looking for a “steady, sober religious man” and recalls to the reader Mr. Bennet’s own advice to Lizzie regarding what to look for in a partner. Muir also notes that Austen cautioned her own niece Fanny, “If his deficiencies of Manner…strike you more than all his good qualities,...give him up at once”.

Muir’s book follows the course of real marriages, noting that not all of the arrangements and accommodations between partners were unhappy. Yes, there were abusive marriages and Muir doesn’t gloss over those occurrences, but he spends significant time in showing that two people in partnership could build successfully and develop real affection for one another, despite the lack of what we might characterize as romantic attachments. He even includes a chapter on the spinsters and bachelors who might be living on the fringes of a society built around heterosexual marriages.

Being just shy of 1000 words here, I’m going to leave off. But I do think Muir’s book in conjunction with Austen’s most well-known novel makes a good pairing. Love and Marriage in the Age of Jane Austen will sit right next to Muir’s earlier book, Gentlemen of Uncertain Fortune on my shelves. They’re quite worthwhile as either leisure entertainment or as reference works. Of course, I have yet to clear any of the many sets of Austen’s works that also sit on my shelves.

>68 jillmwo: Fascinating stuff. Thank you, Jill. I'm sure when I read P&P the first time I was amazed by Charlotte's actions, but now they make perfect sense. Yes Collins is a bore, but I think he was still moldable in at least some areas.

I was much sadder at the state of Elizabeth's parents' marriage this time around though.

>68 jillmwo: This is interesting, and it makes sense. Thank you for letting me know about this book! Austen-themed non-fiction is always welcome :)

>68 jillmwo: *waves* I'm right here! I'm only as far as Elizabeth (I hate the name Lizzie, hoping not to offend anyone here actually named that) rejecting Collins, but even at this point I can see Charlotte coming into the picture. Not in a pushing way, but in a consider me kind of way. At this point not much of her personality has been discovered, she is only that friend who gives Elizabeth relief by standing with her in awkward situations. Have made a few comments in my reading thread.

I had an aunt very like Mrs. Bennett. She was not a harmful woman, but 5 minutes was more than enough time in her company. My uncle was a quiet, intelligent man with a sly sense of humor, very like Mr. Bennett. He left his first wife for this woman in a time when that was "not done." I never could figure out why, but he seemed happy with her.

>68 jillmwo: I hadn't remembered that Mr Collins was as young as 25. There's definitely hope for improvement under the influence of Charlotte!

For pgmcc and anyone else who has been paying attention to the work of literary translations. https://www.ilzeduarteliterarytranslator.com/post/tips-for-emerging-literary-tra...

>73 jillmwo: Thank you, Jill.

I am settling down to read it. The title of the book pictured took me back a bit and I am wondering if it is a grammatical error or an error of translation. Trying to explain it as being correct is making my brain hurt.

>74 pgmcc: There is a surprising degree of confusion about affect and effect. I am not sure what the problem is and do not understand why the current population is moving in this direction.

Meanwhile, in other news, I am chucking out the surprisingly tedious bio on Jane Austen by Jane Aiken Hodge. I've taken away only one point about Jane Austen's work from this woman. (She thinks that Austen learned how to do bad guys earlier on in her career than she learned how to write good guys. Her specific examples were Wickham and Willoughby.) At any rate, dear friends, I don't think I can recommend Only A Novel: The Double Life of Jane Austen. Even if you see it in a second-hand shop on the fifty-cent table.

Gifted article from the Washington Post re libraries and the culture wars here in the US: https://wapo.st/4cVGmhO

>76 jillmwo: I thought that article was a good one.

They are just overflowing with book related articles lately. Poison books!

The free gift link: https://wapo.st/3LFmT9j

>76 jillmwo: Thank you for this. Somehow I missed it.

>77 Karlstar: This one I spotted, but only skimmed. Looked a little more closely this time. Yikes!!!

>77 Karlstar: and >78 clamairy: You may recall pgmcc and I talking about the book Portable Magic? I have a vague memory that the poison books were mentioned in Smith's book. Failing that, they may also have come up in Leah Price's What We Talk About When We Talk About Books.

>79 jillmwo:
Yes they were. Green was the killer.

And from Atlas Obscura:
Found: 3 Poisonous Books in a University Library
How a Library Handles a Rare and Deadly Book of Wallpaper Samples

>79 jillmwo: >80 pgmcc: You folks are always ahead of the trend. I think you were also discussing one or more of the books on the 'new' classics list.

>76 jillmwo: I love this quote from the article "In a library, people with questions can ask a librarian for help finding answers. Instead of telling a curious patron what to think, the librarian will point out titles that might help them learn enough to figure it out for themselves. Library materials are organized systematically, so it’s easy to locate what the person seeks; there’s no need to fight through a curtain of chaotic advertisements or AI-generated misinformation. Once our patron has found their materials, they can absorb them quietly, with no distractions. There are no signs popping up every few minutes to redirect their attention, encouraging them to look at things they never asked for. The patron’s journey through the library is guided by their own quest for knowledge."

>83 Sakerfalcon: Good point, let's hope it stays that way. One big advantage of print books.

>83 Sakerfalcon: I loved that bit, too. Unfortunately there is a segment of the population in the US that frowns on people thinking for themselves. I was horrified to learn that so many libraries are under attack, but then I read somewhere (Washington Post, I think) that a vast majority of these attacks were lead but just a handful of groups.

This past weekend, one of my book groups met to discuss A Wizard’s Guide to Defensive Baking. This relatively short book by T. Kingfisher was something of an award-winner the year it came out. It won a Nebula, a Locus award, and a Mythopoeic Award in categories recognizing books aimed at the young adult reading audience. In prepping for the discussion, I happened across a review (or perhaps it was a post on Reddit) that talked about the book as being a “disturbing allegory of the Holocaust”. Now granted that I went skipping through the novel but I didn’t really see it as being that at all. I saw it as having an anti-war message and a message that it was okay to feel disappointed in adults for failing to avoid war, but otherwise, the book was too lightweight in tone to carry much more than that.

During the discussion, I mentioned the reference I’d seen and one of the participants said that she had the same concern as the Reddit poster. She had found the “rounding up” of those with magical talents to be off-putting. Had I not recognized the parallel when Kingfisher made reference to posters placed around town urging townsfolk to turn in their neighbors for shielding those with even small abilities with magic? I’d recognized the parallel, of course, but I hadn’t taken it nearly as seriously as she had. From her perspective, the author ran the risk of cheapening or normalizing horrific behavior by using it in the story this way. She felt that a better writer would have managed to avoid such usage. Her concern was so very genuinely felt that I have been thinking about it ever since.

From my perspective, this book was purely entertainment reading. I hadn’t been looking for any allegorical intent, although I could readily see some elements of political commentary. Still, there was no moral hammer “thwack” coming down. I thought Kingfisher picked up and made use of historical references in a way that a young reader would readily pick up on.

At any rate, now I am wondering if I’ve become an insensitive clod, not realizing the heft of such cultural references when they appear. Looking to be entertained by the book, I was having a good time with the sourdough starter named Bob living in a bucket down in the bakery basement and with the animated Gingerbread Man, both of whom aid our fourteen-year-old protagonist, Mona, throughout the story as she learns about herself, the nature of war and the nature of heroism.

Because the other book I’ve been reading in recent days is Waltzing into Darkness by Cornell Woolrich. More on that tomorrow.

>86 jillmwo: I am a confirmed insensitive clod. I am rarely bothered by the nuances of meaning that may or may not be in an author's work. People will squeeze the meanings to suit them, which I have noticed frequently with J.R.R. Tolkien's LotR tales. If someone wants to work themselves up over what an author may or may not have intended, I view that as their problem and I go on enjoying the work.

"the sourdough starter named Bob"
I haven't read this book, but I do have a sourdough starter named Bob. I named him after the Bobiverse novels because of yeast and Bob's propensity to multiply.

>86 jillmwo: I guess I'm an insensitive clod as well. There are things that hit me hard in books - but if a book is supposed to be entertaining, then I read it as such. Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking was very nice, btw.

>87 MrsLee: This is wonderful!

Now I am thinking that all my hugely unsuccessful sourdough starters (three attempts) might have fared better if I had named them :)

>86 jillmwo: I haven't read this, but I doubt all of you are insensitive clods. Some people just look for darkness.

Yeast names are the best. I saw a list of favorites once, but the only one that stuck in my head was William Butler Yeast. (I just did some Googling and I have another great one for my potential list... Frodough Baggins.)

Waltz Into Darkness

A successful widower in 1880's New Orleans seeks a bride. A woman arrives by steamboat, a mail-order fiancee. Within a few days, the two marry. Within weeks, the cossetted husband has been fleeced of all his funds. The wife has disappeared, leaving no trail. Coffee merchant Louis Durand is both alarmed and enraged as it emerges the woman he married was not who she claimed to be. An investigator is called in.

From there, Cornell Woolrich develops a path of events and results that are equally suspenseful and sadly inevitable. The reader wonders how for how long Durand will tolerate his circumstances. He's paralyzed by this femme fatale. (Sometimes clear thinking is not the priority in one's relationships with the opposite sex.)

Wooldrich was a highly successful writer of noir crime novels. Critics however give him mixed reviews. In Bloody Murder. Julian Symons dismisses his work as too frequently "melodramatic silliness". Martin Edwards notes that Woolrich's "fear-jerkers" may rely too heavily on coincidence. His view is that Woolrich wasn't very good at endings. That said, despite the downward spiral of events in Waltz into Darkness, I found the romantic, suspenseful noir to be compelling.

The prose is more lyrical than most, but Woolrich doesn't get bogged down in too much descriptive detail. That's an asset. There are only about half a dozen characters that the reader needs to track. Your attention is fixed on the tragic couple. Which of them is likely to survive?

I don't think I'm apt to re-read this. But it was a surprisingly satisfactory first-time read!

Too much reading leaves one’s brain feeling like the metal sphere in a pinball machine.

First a short item. I discovered today that Chaz Brenchley has been writing for quite some time. A sufficiently lengthy period of time for there to be a volume from Subterranean Press entitled The Best of Chaz Brenchley. I had only known him from the Mars school stories so now I must catch up in other ways. BTW, I have really rather enjoyed Mary Ellen, Craterean. Sometimes a woman needs to be reminded of what stuff she is made, and of what she may be capable. The book has a bracing tone to it. Oh, and a shout-out to the author for his brilliant weaving in of a Shakespearean reference in Chapter Sixteen. Well done.

Now a longer item – I have been reading over the past few weeks, Mary Gordon’s Reading Jesus. This has been sitting on my shelves for nigh on fourteen years, surviving weeding efforts despite me picking it up several times and putting it back down again because I just couldn’t get into it. This is the only book of hers that I’ve ever read, although – now that I think of it – she’s been around quite as long as the aforementioned Chaz Brenchley. I feel I need to catch up with her work as well. She apparently did a brief biography of Joan of Arc for the Penguin Lives series. Also there was a novel entitled The Company of Women that looked interesting.

By the way, have you seen the outrageous sums of money some of these book series expect you to pay for the full set of titles, even in just Kindle editions? Wicked.

Getting back to her book on the Gospels, one of the things that made a positive impression on me was the fact that she admits early on in the book that she would refer throughout to multiple translations of the Gospels (RSV, KJV, etc.). She wouldn’t restrict herself by keeping to a single version because she reads with a novelist’s eye as to word usage. Lovely prose, interesting views of well-known stories as considered by a 21st century mind, and without sentimentality. At any rate, another author whose body of work I am tempted to round up.

The whole thing about translations further struck me when I encountered a rude comment by Alberto Manguel in A Reading Diary: A Passionate Reader’s Reflections on a Year of Books. He commented on how he pitied those readers incapable of fluency in reading works from multiple languages. Literally, my first reaction was to mentally classify him as a bit of an “arrogant sod”. Elsewhere in the book, he recalls how his governess (with whom he always spoke in either English or German) would remind him as she shoved him through the door to spend time with his parents that he was always supposed to speak with them in Spanish. Manguel notes that his vocabulary in that language wasn’t really up to the challenge. (To which my reaction was that this man really did have an entirely different kind of education and upbringing than I.)

Now the first book that Manguel discusses in A Reading Diary is a novel entitled The Invention of Morel by Adolfo Bioy Casares. Written in 1941, the book – as described by Manguel – seems to be an odd kind of fantasy, akin to magical realism.

It’s currently available from New York Review of Books, a publisher with an extensive line of works in translation. The Invention of Morel strikes me as being a bit on the highbrow side of things, but to bring it to a wider audience, NYRB thoughtfully provides a Reading Group Discussion Guide. Just to give due recognition, the translation from the Spanish has been done by Ruth L. C. Simons.

Which again made me think about translations and about how readers like me are reliant on publishers to identify translators who are capable of careful work and robust prose style. I was thinking of Emily Wilson and her translation of The Odyssey which I really am rather taken with, whereas the translation by Robert Fagles was less engaging to me. I had commented at some point to pgmcc about how well done William Weaver’s translation of Calvino seemed to be and how difficult it must be to do justice to literary style as composed in a foreign language. It’s hard work. (As a passing digression, I am reminded of an incident in Rumer Godden’s In This House of Brede where a nun is tasked with a task of translation. “But Rufinus is a stylist!” she says, “It would be appallingly difficult to do him justice.” Mother Abbess agrees, but refers the nun to another sister for assistance. Sister Veronica – a sappy poet – had been cruel to this other more learned nun out of jealousy. The referral is something of a well-deserved penance to be gone through.)

Thinking about translations though, I do realize that there's been an expansion of my reading in that regard. I’ve read recent translations of Bambi and The Rule of Saint Benedict. I’ve read fiction by Fred Vargas and Umberto Eco. Of course, I can’t speak to the actual quality of the work of translation, but I can recognize the elegance of language and style when the works are in English.

In Manguel’s world, I might still be counted as one of the great “unwashed”, but at least I might be allowed to lurk in the room where great minds gather. (Yes, there’s a certain amount of snark in that last sentence. I’m less in awe of Manguel in 2024 than I was a year or two back. Hmph.)

Beyond these various thoughts, I continue to rummage about on the shelves, dipping in here and there according to mood. I’d originally acquired A Reading Diary because I had been under the impression that Manguel had devoted himself to reading and thinking about just one single book each month and I’d been curious about how he would have written each chapter. Would it be in-depth consideration of The Wind in the Willows? No, this has been more the results of his own moods accompanied by thoughts on each of the various books he was re-reading over time. Interesting, but not the kind of in-depth researched stuff I’d anticipated.

Oh, and for fun, I've been reading The Law and The Lady by Wilkie Collins in one of those regular old Penguin Classic paperbacks. Serialized fiction from the Victorians can be SO melodramatic.

Edited to fix multiple touchstones.

>92 jillmwo:

I like your comments on translation, and the fact that you are reading more works in translation.

Your reaction to Manguel’s comment was mine too. However, when I reread the comment as you reported it I saw a more sympathetic element in what he wrote. Like yourself I am limited in my reading with only being able to read English with any fluency. I often regret not being able to readily read original works in French or German. I think it is a pity I do not have these skills. Manguel’s comment could be interpreted as his feeling sorry for those of us who cannot read in multiple languages. So, rather than his being an arrogant sod he could be an empathetic soul taking pity on us mere monolinguistic mortals.

Of course, perhaps there is more commentary in Manguel’s book than the quote you have provided and that might demonstrates conclusively that he is an arrogant sod.

Chaz will be delighted you are seeking out his other works.

>92 jillmwo: I wonder if it's we monoglots who are the exception, at least among people interested in literature? I remember that F L Lucas's Style has quotations in (at least) French, German, Italian, Latin and Classical Greek, and the first edition didn't translate any of them, because the "target audience" would be expected to be able to read those languages.

>93 pgmcc: As a retired secret agent civil servant, you now have the time to study languages! Try the popular method of reading novels in your target language. I tried this method with French, and can at least read Le Petit Prince in French. (I also have a copy of Der Kleine Prinzip, but of course it's in a box somewhere.) The method needs determination but it works. Learning to speak is of course a different game.

The problem I find with this method is that starting is fairly easy: you start with The Little Prince in the target language — it's available in most of the likely target languages* and is easy to read — but what next? The leap from Der Kleine Prinzip to Goethe is pretty large. Need something clear and straightforward like YA fiction, I suppose.

After my last visit to my doctor, during which he was arguing strongly for keeping one's mind active, i wondered about slightly more formal study. The University of Queensland offers language study to all comers, for relatively reasonable money, in about 30 languages. This is outside any degree program. Libraries here have decent selections of books in "community" languages (for example, my local has Arabic, Chinese and Korean) but that tends not to include languages like French or German that were the literary languages when I was a child.

*Wikipedia:

Le Petit Prince is often used as a beginner's book for French-language students, and several bilingual and trilingual translations have been published. As of 2017, it has been translated into more than 300 languages and dialects, including Sardinian, the constructed international languages of Esperanto and Klingon**, and the Congolese language Alur, as well as being printed in Braille for blind readers. It is also often used as an introduction into endangered varieties with very few speakers like Maya (2001), Aromanian (2006), or Banat Bulgarian (2017). It is one of the few modern books to have been translated into Latin, as Regulus, vel Pueri soli sapiunt in 1961 by Auguste Haury (1910–2002) and as Regulus in 2010 by Alexander Winkler. A translation of the book was published as U'cc priinsâž in Skolt Sámi translated by Skolt Sámi author Kati-Claudia Fofonoff in 2000, a language spoken in Sápmi. Which, at the time, was spoken by less than 500 people making it the smallest language with a translation of Le Petit Prince. In 2005, the book was also translated into Toba Qom, an indigenous language of northern Argentina, as So Shiyaxauolec Nta'a. It was the first book translated into that language since the New Testament. It was also translated to a northern Italian dialect, Vogherese. Anthropologist Florence Tola, commenting on the suitability of the work for Toban translation, said there is "nothing strange when the Little Prince speaks with a snake or a fox and travels among the stars, it fits perfectly into the Toba mythology".

*!!

>94 haydninvienna:
I acquired a copy of Moby Dick in German many moons ago in an effort to learn German. I did not get very far.

This year I bought Fred Vargas’s new novel with the intention of improving my French. The book is not yet available in English.

In relation to your quote from Wikipedia:
I read that during the 1980s US invasion of Grenada that the US forces used Klingon for communications as a code to prevent leaking information. A review after the invasion led to the abandonment of Klingon as as secret means of communications as more people in the world can speak Klingon than can speak Esperanto.

>95 pgmcc: Um, Moby Dick might not have been an ideal choice …

>86 jillmwo: Interesting thoughts. I haven't read the book so I can't comment directly. I don't think you are an insensitive clod, it is possible to take a writer's allegory for nothing more than what was written. Seems more likely that the folks who took it that way suffer from the internet affliction of being offended by everything, to excess.

>96 haydninvienna:
The first sentence was ok:
"Ich bin Ishmael".

I was a bit disappointed at its plainness. I was used to, and preferred, the more poetic, "Call me Ishmael".

:-)

Just a quick post of an opinion piece from the Washington Post re the dismantling of a Frank Lloyd Wright building. (Gifted article; no paywall) https://wapo.st/3yp1GgS Quite a story.

Looked like a cool article, but they make you create an account to read it.

>99 jillmwo: Hopefully they've picked a good location! A historic church near where I used to live had to be moved to a state park after the FAA ruled it was a danger to incoming planes at the airport, which it probably was, a bit too tall and a bit too near the landing/takeoff path.

>100 Bookmarque: The lead paragraph of that article is as follows:

In December, the Wayfarers Chapel, designed by modernist architect Lloyd Wright, the son of Frank Lloyd Wright, was designated a National Historic Landmark. Two months later, a landslide closed it down.

Going back a bit in the archive, it becomes clear that the original landslide occurred some decades back, but the land is currently unstable and still shifting. The building was built in California, at a cost of $25,000 but it will cost many millions to re-locate and re-build it. No one wants to lose the building because after all it was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, but finding the "right" place to reconstruct it is still up in the air (because as with all FLW architecture, the building was inherently tied to the original location.)

>101 Karlstar: No site has yet been identified.

It just struck me as a truly poignant story. Sometimes it seems we can't protect anything.

>102 jillmwo: I think I read that the Wayfarer's Chapel was designed by his son, not by Frank Lloyd Wright, but the influence is there, certainly. Wherever I read that, possibly an AAA magazine? There were photos, and it is lovely. The elves of Rivendell could hardly have done better.

>103 MrsLee: You're absolutely right, Lee! I just re-read the lead paragraph from the news story I mentioned and, as I had skimmed too quickly, it seems I overlooked that highly relevant tidbit. (Sometimes I'm an idiot. Thank you for not saying that out loud.)

The Law and The Lady

I have had a copy of The Law and the Lady on my shelves since at least 2015. It had gone unread, at least in part, because –in my view– one has to be in the right mood to properly enjoy Victorian sensation novels. Sentence structures are more formal than we’re used to these days and the attitudes as to proper behavior (particularly for women) are unabashedly out of sync with modern ideas. You have to be in the right frame of mind, willing to accept the mindset of the original author.

My Penguin Classics paperback maintained the three-volume set up of the edition sold in 1875. In the initial segment, you learn that Valeria Brinton has willingly married Eustace Woodville, despite the match not receiving whole-hearted approval from either her family or his. Within the space of a week or two of marriage, it becomes quite evident to Valeria that her husband has kept something significant from his past from her. There is an unacceptable lack of transparency in what he has shared with her and she’s determined to break down his secrecy. He begs her not to do so. In Volume Two, we learn the charge against him and some of those involved in the secret and in Volume Three we follow intricacies of the investigation that will ultimately reveal the truth of the matter. In fact, the first volume might easily be recognized as a basic formula for writers developing a run-of-the-mill mystery novel. However, Collins gets increasingly creative in presenting his theme as the book goes along. This was a great read; for me, there was real immersion in the story. I had no expectations when I started in and thus enjoyed the roller coaster ride. Who expects to encounter CSI-style forensic investigation in a novel from 150 years back?

This isn’t really a love story or romance novel, despite any marketing blurbs. Eustace is a bit of a macguffin as he’s offstage for roughly three-quarters of the book. Valeria is the driving force in working out why Eustace has married her (under a false name) and why her mother-in-law expresses pity for her in having married him at all. There’s a hefty bit of the Gothic and of murder, but Collins is caught up in working out society’s overarching failures in the context of gender expectations and imperfect bodies. There are some striking characters, including the highly imperfect Miserrimus Dexter and the reprobate Major Fitz-David. Still, Collins manages to make one feel the misery of human beings who need and want to be loved but who fall outside existing standards of attractive looks and good mental health. Class and wealth aren’t as important in a marriage as are transparency and trust when building a solid foundation. Such a story may seem to be a cliche, but The Law and the Lady, whether read as a novel or as a murder mystery, is not. I found it to be immersive.

If you’ve never read Wilkie Collins, don’t start with this one. But if you have ever enjoyed The Moonstone or The Woman in White, this is a great follow-up. (And I can't think why it's not better known. It's at least the equal of No-Name or the frankly confusing Armadale, both of which made it into a set of Folio Society editions in the '80's or '90's.)

I must admit I was thinking about the Pub’s departed member pilgrim as I read, because there’d been a brief period when the two of us had exchanged thoughts about Collins’ “offbeat” kind of lifestyle. The man supported two households, neither of which were sanctioned in the eyes of the Church of England or the greater Victorian society.

Edited to correct a historical error.

>105 jillmwo:
Notch up another BB hit on me. I have loved any Wilkie Collins I have read and I have read both The Woman in White and The Moonstone. Haunted Hotel is another story I enjoyed.

>106 pgmcc: I forgot to mention the very important theme of unrequited love. There's quite a bit to unpack in this book. Collins had a subversive streak to him.

>107 jillmwo:
One thing I learned in Sales training; once you make a sale, stop talking. You cannot do any better than having madd the sale, but you might say something that makes the customer change their mind.

In this case no damage was done. I will read The Law and the Lady.
:-)

>105 jillmwo: It does sound intriguing. Perhaps I'll try it as an audiobook.

>109 clamairy: Given that Victorian authors expected that their works would frequently be read out loud in the home, I would be interested in hearing your experience of the audio. I want to know if Collins' prose works that way. (Frankly, I was afraid I'd have to read it out loud at some point when Patrick was out of the house so that I wouldn't be heard talking to myself and characterized as somewhat deranged.)

>108 pgmcc: My dear man, I didn't write that bit to solidify a BB aimed in your direction. (You're at Worldcon and I naturally assumed you'd be down in the bar carousing and schmoozing with authors.) I posted the point here so that I'd remember at some later date that this was what I saw as a significant pattern in this particular text. You or clamairy might read the same Penguin paperback and view The Law and The Lady as having to do with something else entirely -- the weirdnesses of Scottish criminal law or something.

>105 jillmwo: I should probably reread both The Moonstone and The Woman in White, it's been a long time. This book sounds interesting as well! Thank you for talking about Wilkie Collins :)

>105 jillmwo: According to LT I have read this one. I don't really remember anything about it though. I should read it again, as the big reveal will be a surprise all over again!

>105 jillmwo: Great review, thank you. I'm still on the fence on Collins.

>111 Alexandra_book_life: >112 Sakerfalcon: >113 Karlstar: I have a very real fondness for The Moonstone but The Law and The Lady comes right behind it. There is much that Collins has poured into this that resonates with modern concerns and I am still mulling over the whole book. The fact is that I really prefer Collins to Dickens; the other consideration for me is that Collins' sensation novels talk about all the subsets of Victorian life that Trollope avoided in his more realistic novels. (I still have at least three of Collins' novels that remain untouched. But his are too rich to read back-to-back.)

>114 jillmwo: I wholeheartedly agree with this: The fact is that I really prefer Collins to Dickens

Yesterday turned into an unplanned DNBR day. For two or three nights prior, I had been reading a mystery by E.C.R. Lorac, specifically Fell Murder. I was reading it primarily to see if it was worth keeping or if this was one of the dud titles that might safely be passed on to others. I had sampled it occasionally but had never gotten into the book properly.

That changed this past week and yesterday, I really, really wanted to find out how the mystery might be ultimately resolved. Fell Murder is set in 1943-44 wartime Britain. Those working in agricultural settings in Lancashire are hemmed about by a lack of manpower, government regulations, rationing, and bureaucratic oversight of how all resources are being used. The work is both essential and hard, but those used to it understand the cyclical nature of weather and livestock. They understand the need for neighbors to work cooperatively and not just as part of the war effort. Lorac saw both the beauty of the Lancashire landscape as well as the quality of the people living there. Her respect and affection come across in her prose.

We begin in a physical setting that is “half great house, half farmhouse”, owned by an unpleasantly obdurate man of 80 who is still in command of his senses and who runs his land and tenants as he’s always done. He battles with his 45 year old daughter, Marian, who is eager to try new methods; they’re both devoted to the country life. Also in the house is one son who was driven out of his Asian business by the war in the Pacific and a much younger son – an underweight teenage boy who writes poetry. Both sons appear to be under-valued by the father. Also in the house is a Land Girl, Elizabeth, working hard on the farm. She’s as practical and as intelligent as Marian. Elsewhere is the eldest son, Richard, heir to it all. In the immediate vicinity of the house, Garthmere, are villagers and tenants, each of whom carry long memories of individual grievances.

One of these individuals is murdered. The local constabulary is buried under wartime concerns and, for a variety of reasons, the case requires a diplomatic skill lacking in the current force. Scotland Yard is encouraged to become involved, hence the arrival of Chief Inspector Robert Macdonald. Once he arrives, the action picks up as Macdonald studies who of the available suspects would be most likely to kill.

What makes this Golden Age mystery most enjoyable in my view are the descriptions Lorac includes of the landscape, the daily chores and of the family hearth. She clearly watched those working the land during wartime and sympathized with the effort needed in keeping livestock and harvesting crops amidst the vagaries of the weather and war. A reader will pick up on the loyalty of the local populace and how that populace appears when seen through the eyes of those who deemed as outsiders.

I know Peter said in one of his 2023 threads that this was a title he was bringing to France because he thought his wife might enjoy it, but we never heard back on whether she did.

And just to polish the halo a bit, I checked my back emails to see how long I’d been holding on to this particular one. In 2019, the Book Depository was still up and running and the edition in my hand is a real British Library edition (as opposed to an American edition from Poisoned Pen Press). It’s been on the shelf for five years and there are other Loracs in the same situation. As to any weeding decision, I’ve decided to keep this particular title of hers.

>116 jillmwo: That sounds good. What is DNBR?

>117 Karlstar:
Do Nothing But Read.

The type of day most of us dream of.

>117 Karlstar: Trust pgmcc to get the acronym right! Theoretically at least, when having a Do-Nothing-But-Read day, one parks one's self down in the comfiest of reading environments with a stack of books, a beverage, and whatever snacks one likes (little cakes, pretzels, cheese, fruit, etc.) and you spend the day that way. Here on LT, people might periodically report in on the progress being made with a particular book.

In my instance, I was not nearly as well-organized. I was just stubborn. I wasn't going to do anything useful or productive until I'd finished the book and knew how it came out.

>118 pgmcc: >119 jillmwo: Thank you both. Seems like that's all I've been doing lately.

Publishers Weekly covers Worldcon: https://www.publishersweekly.com/pw/by-topic/international/international-book-ne...

They say that on-site attendance was in the 7200 range. They praise Glasgow as a venue, being both inclusive as well as laid-back. But this was the bit I liked the best:

Though its timing clashed with the imminent Hugo Awards, a panel led by author R.W.W. Greene still drew a great crowd, and gamely led a wonderful back and forth between panelists and the audience in the pursuit of the perfect SFF verse. It was collaborative, convivial, and showed the strong communal spirit at this year’s event.

They said that the panel was indicative of the entire spirit of Worldcon. The article has a bunch of positive quotes from an assortment of SF&F publishers.

Of the Hugo winners, it seems that I've only read Thornhedge which won for Best Novella.

>121 jillmwo:
I read that review and go along with what is says.

So up there in Msg 7, I wrote about a decision needing to be made as to whether we kept a copy of The Virginian in the house or released it to the local Friends of the Library Book sale. I steeled myself and decisively put the book into a bag kept for that type of recycling. My husband had constructed a box for transport. The book in the bag (along with others) even made it out so far as the trunk of the car. However, my husband, while unloading the bag into the box, caught sight of the title on the spine and returned inside. He then firmly announced that we were keeping it because he liked the book and wanted a copy. I noted with a certain amount of acerbity in my tone that the book had been sitting untouched on a bedroom shelf for quite some time and all he'd needed to do, had he missed it, was ask me where it was. I knew precisely which shelf it was on and even how many volumes in from the lefthand side of the bookcase.

*sigh* And then he wonders why we've got books crawling up the baseboards.

>123 jillmwo: Your story is very huggable :)

Books crawling everywhere also means that there is little space for new books? Can this be a good argument? ;)))

Perhaps you need to get rid of books when he's not home....

I am chortling through the first chapter of The Hymn Tune Mystery because -- as Peter promised -- there's a certain Trollope aspect to it thus far.

>123 jillmwo: You know I'm on your husband's side. ;)

Death of an Author by E.C.R. Lorac

I have been caught up in books by this author and am trying to decide if she’s the equal to the likes of Agatha Christie, Ngaio Marsh and Marjorie Allingham.

I just finished Death of an Author which begins with a male publisher sitting in his comfortable office, schmoozing up a male author. They fall into a conversation about a particularly successful writer, whose most recent work - The Charterhouse Case – is selling well. The thing is that no one has ever met the writer. Ashe, who may be just a tad jealous of this competing author, asks his publisher if the name on the cover is a pseudonym for some other well-known writer. The publisher laughs and we’re off to the races. A chapter or two later, a young woman appears at a police station and reports that her obsessively reclusive employer of three years has suddenly disappeared. As has his housekeeper. Oughtn’t the police to do something about it?

Lorac explores the world of pseudonyms with an eye to the rumors (or even blatant untruths) that are made-up about the person with the hidden identity. “We take a great deal for granted as long as our credibility isn’t outraged,” comments Ashe.

Overall, this 1935 mystery is written as a problem in logic. How can two Scotland Yard detectives track down a missing celebrity whom no one has ever met in person? There are minimal external witnesses for purposes of interrogation; the detectives spend a good percentage of their time interviewing each other to gather what’s been extracted from bank and tax records and other resources. (It’s one of her earlier books, so I think Lorac was still finding her way around the problem of avoiding info dumps. But I was intrigued by her set-up and so kept reading.) One of her team has a nose-to-the-ground focus on isolating the facts when solving crime while the other approaches the challenge of piecing together the solution by imaginative placement of facts within a narrative jigsaw. (This is one of those classic examples where the detective and the reader are in essentially parallel positions.)

Personally, I enjoyed this one because Lorac had a point to make about environmental assumptions regarding female capabilities. The secretary who reports the initial disappearance of the author is both intelligent and competent. As a result, she is scrutinized closely throughout. Her dialogue with one of the detectives underscores the theme Lorac is pursuing, “Neither conceit nor ability is a purely masculine monopoly…We’re a mixed lot, all of us.”

There isn’t anywhere near as much description in this book as one encounters in later Lorac mysteries – such as Fell Murder (see above) or Post After Post-Mortem, both of which I have read and both of which have vivid settings and memorable characters. This one is much more about working through a philosophical mind-set. How much of what we know about someone should be taken on faith? How valid are broad-based assumptions in forming our idea of a relatively shallow acquaintance?

I complained while commenting on Waltz Into Darkness earlier this summer that Julian Symons wrote slightingly of Cornell Woolrich in his history of crime fiction. Lorac doesn’t get much notice in Bloody Murder either. I don't recall that she got even a paragraph and I am irritated by that oversight. The woman has much to recommend her. She's more than a vehicle for social history in a murder mystery. There's a keen mind behind her pseudonyms (of which Wikipedia tells me she has half a dozen).

My thing on the Scholarly Kitchen blog: https://scholarlykitchen.sspnet.org/2024/08/20/ensuring-the-sustainability-of-pr...

I wrote it, but doing so required much editing and thinking and striking out of random bits of crankiness.

>129 jillmwo: Really great, thank you!

>129 jillmwo: Extremely interesting, thank you!

>129 jillmwo:
Great article Jill.

Per a poke from pgmcc, I have both read and given thought to The Hymn Tune Mystery. As a light read, it's fun. Not as farcical in tone as Holy Disorders but not as solemn as some other Cathedral mysteries. You enter a Church of England very like that of Trollope's The Warden in terms of personalities and humor. The Cathedral community is having to deal with the awkwardness of having an organist who tends to drink to excess, leaving empty whiskey bottles about in the organ loft. The Dean doesn't like to have to deal with this problem, but he's being held accountable by his daughter Sybil (an intimidating product of four years at Somerville and the type of woman who "runs" things) and by the archdeacon. Birmingham's archdeacon is very much a carbon copy of the archdeacon in The Warden, very concerned about anything that might besmirch the Church's and the Cathedral's public reputation and power. Sybil shares the attitude; she wants her father to be seen as a formidable intellectual, wielding influence in Parliament and shifting public sentiment on sensitive issues. The Dean is a very likeable but meek sort and these two tend to gang up on him. When the organist is found dead in the organ loft, it's all very awkward but primarily on the grounds of how the Cathedral itself might lose prestige in the public view.

The precentor (shades of Mr. Harding in The Warden) is a sensible member of the clergy in his thirties. Mr. Dennis is entirely up to the challenges of a drunken organist and the cohort of choir boys for which he's responsible in the Cathedral school. He sets out to work out a solution to the murder. Working with Inspector Smallways, he's eventually successful in that act of virtue. Unfortunately, like Mr. Harding, by book's end, his position in the Church will have diminished. He will have no reward or recognition for his virtue.

I had said to Peter that I thought this was more about the author commenting on the challenges facing the Church in 1930. There was pressure on the Church to reform itself in the aftermath of the first World War. Birmingham must have felt that they weren't being terribly realistic in the overall effort. The Church may have thought they were still operating in Trollope's world when really they needed to wake up to an entirely different social context. Birmingham uses a flapper by the name of Elsie Hart to represent the depth of difference. Elsie wears make-up and a sheath dress that clings to her. (The Dean finds it "difficult to suppose she had on any garments underneath those which were visible".) She knowingly manipulates the men she meets (the Dean, Mr. Dennis, etc.) by playing on traditional expectations that men of that era would have had. Mr. Dennis doesn't fall into her trap, but others do. Of the few female characters included in the story, Elsie receives the lengthiest descriptions of make-up, clothing, and manner. Honestly, we haven't a clue what Sybil looks like, but we know a variety of unflattering details regarding Elsie's appearance.

Working through the resolution to the mystery, Mr. Dennis behaves honorably in his dealings with Elsie, but in the end, we know that she's a bad 'un. Appearances are more important than to the Church than the fact that a murderer is called to account through the efforts of Mr. Dennis (an act of goodness and devotion to virtue). The novel's narrative arc parallels that of The Warden.

If read purely as an entertainment, The Hymn Tune Mystery is fun. Various characters (such as the chaplain working with prison inmates) get properly skewered, just as they might have been in Trollope. However, a reader might also pick up on the idea that Canon James Hannay (George A. Birmingham) felt that the Church of England of 1930 needed something of a reality check as to what the clergy were having to deal with in terms of social change.

As a side note with regard to the initial set-up, Lord Carminster seems to have gotten his title by buying honours from the Crown which is exactly how Lloyd George was brought down as Prime Minister. That's important to some of the action in the story (some emeralds have been burgled) and the author was recalling some contemporary scandal to the memory of his readers.

One other late thought: This book came out the same year as Agatha Christie's Murder at the Vicarage. Christie shows her female characters (Griselda, Lettice, etc.) in far more realistic fashion, but her vicar is characterized as being far too unworldly by Miss Marple to recognize human frailties and he thus is ill-equipped to deal with the sin of murder.

Yet another late thought: Birmingham's novel is sending the message that the Church in 1930 is prioritizing the wrong concerns. (The Lambeth Conferences of 1920 and 1930 did show concern over male and female work roles in the Church, including a lack of adequate training outside of academic scholarship.)

>133 jillmwo:
A very nice commentary on The Hymn Tune Mystery.

>134 pgmcc: Thank you. As I reread that post, I see I may need to work on being a bit more succinct in my postings. Rein things in a bit. A thousand words runs the risk of scaring friends away. (I can hear the internal cautions in people's brains: I don't have time to go in there! That woman just goes on for paragraphs and paragraphs. Then they tiptoe away to wash their hair or boil eggs on the stove.)

>135 jillmwo:
You are too hard on yourself. Let yourself go. Your erudite prose wax lyrical to the ears.

>135 jillmwo: I feel seen. (I am planning to come back with a clearer mind, and face that wall of text.)

>133 jillmwo: "an organist who tends to drink to excess"

Sounds like a character in the Herman Charles Bosman story 'A Bekkersdal Marathon', which IIRC you will find in the collection Bosman at his Best, which is worth searching out. If you find it, please be sure to read it in the stronges Afrikaans accent you can. There used to be a reading on vinyl by Patrick Mynhardt, which was excellent. I have told our church that I wait in horror for the day someone announces in lugubrious tones "We will now sing ... Psalm number 119".

Gifted Op-Ed from the New York Times (https://www.nytimes.com/2024/08/26/opinion/in-praise-of-overstuffed-bookshelves.html?unlocked_article_code=1.F04.EOar.I7B-vpbg1Ebm&smid=url-share). See quote below.

Whether a story or a poem or an essay or an argument comes in through your ears or your eyes or your fingertips doesn’t change the alchemy that happens in reading: the melding of writer and reader, one human heart in communion with another, and with all the others, past, present, and future, who have read the same book. That magic is unrelated to the delivery system of a text.

I will always prefer a book I can hold in my hand, the kind that smells of paper and glue, the kind whose unfolding I control, no button or touchscreen involved, by flipping backward and forward with pages ruffling between my fingers. The physicality of it pleases me. I listen to audiobooks on solo road trips, but I always switch back to the physical book as soon as I unpack. Reading a book on paper feels slower — calmer, stiller — than encountering any digital text.

>139 jillmwo: Good quote.

>139 jillmwo: I did read that one this morning. She is one of my favorite NY Times columnists. I have mixed feelings about her comments on e-readers though. My house is overflowing with paper books, but I rarely read them any more. It's due partially my eyeballs (I wear contacts) and partially the arthritis in my right wrist and tendonitis in my left thumb. Physical books have gotten unwieldy, especially the gigantic ones I prefer to read. But I still love having them all around me.

>141 clamairy: I hate to admit it, but that's a factor for me too. I still read physical books, but it is just easier to read on an e-reader now, even if the experience is not as satisfying.

>142 Karlstar: One of the things I resent the most about not reading physical books is that I can't recall titles or cover art anymore. I don't miss toting around 900+ page hardcovers, though.

Interesting to hear >141 clamairy: and >142 Karlstar: because I find the opposite to be true. I much prefer to be reading from a printed volume these days. I use my Kindle upon occasion, but more for looking up references than anything else. Hand me the Penguin Classic paperback or a normal Random House hardcover. I don't know what the real issue is; at the moment, however, I just navigate print more successfully than anything else.

>139 jillmwo:
Great article. Thank you for sharing.

>143 clamairy:
What gets me is knowing how much book is left to read. Many of my e-books do not have page numbers and all I get is percentage through the book; however, is that X% of a 200 page book or a 1,200 page book?

I do not know how college kids use e-books for reference. I remember during my college years, and indeed in my work career also, I knew where certain items of interest were located in my reference books. I could get them in a jiffy by grabbing the book and opening it roughly where I knew the item I was seeking would be; it was almost a reflex action to find a given passage or section. Searching on an electronic device must require a more conscious and informed search process. An e-book does not have worn pages or spines that support an automatic falling open at the desired page.

>144 jillmwo:
I am right there with you, Jill.

The reading ottoman has been cleared of books so that the left foot which received a bit of out-patient surgery today can remain elevated. No pain (because the local anesthetic hasn't yet worn off) but this is feeling weird. The alternative was to retire to my bed for the rest of the day and my spouse seemed a tad skeptical that I would be cooperative with that.

>144 jillmwo: I prefer to read physical books, still, and probably 75% of my reading is physical books, but with my eyesight it is just easier to read ebooks.

I didn’t finish reading any single title this past week, because I went down a rabbit hole – perhaps exploring an entire warren – after completing The Hymn Tune Mystery. So we can blame pgmcc for this “wall ol text” as clamairy characterized it. (Sorry, Clam!)

Peter had recommended The Hymn Tune Mystery and in writing my response to the book, I had googled one or two things to check my thinking about the Church of England in 1930. This included looking at the Lambeth Conference Archives for the resolutions of 1920 and 1930. As it happens, some of what was discussed had to do with the status and role of deaconesses in the Church at the time. (Deaconess is dated vocabulary in light of current terminology, but essentially, these were women working for the church under a form of ordination.) During both Conferences, the bishops passed an extended set of resolutions pertaining to the role of women in the Church's workforce.

In passing, because it had relevance to the time frame in which The Hymn Tune Mystery had been written, I looked at Shellshocked Prophets: Former Anglican Army Chaplains in Inter-War Britain. It helped in reminding me of what would have been in the forefront of the Church's thinkin. There was a great deal of energy poured into ideas of reformation to better deal with the real experiences of soldiers in trench warfare.

Then, while sorting through a book pile earlier this week, I put my hands on an academic monograph by Martha Vicinus, Independent Women: Work and Community for Single Women. The book covers women in Britain during the period of 1850 - 1920 and there’s an entire chapter in the book devoted to the expansion of the role of deaconesses in the Church of England before and after the First World War. From a historical perspective, these women were reformers and social workers – establishing orphanages, opening schools, aiding those living in poverty, illness, etc.

Somewhere in that chapter, Vicinus described a work of uplifting fiction – Agnes Grahame, Deaconess. (There are no copies listed on LT. With good reason.) A digital version of the book is available via the collections of HathiTrust so I flipped through a few pages online to get a sense of it. The novel was published in 1879 and carries more than a whiff of Victorian propriety and womanly virtue.

Yes, my eyes were rolling as I read random portions, but it was interesting to see the nature of the work and then to see that work evaluated in years following the First World War. Birmingham in writing about emerging flappers during the ‘20’s saw clearly enough that the Church was going to be facing a massive shift in social mindset and behaviors.

I briefly dipped into a book I read 20 years ago – The Detective Novel of Manners which was another scholarly “thing”. The tie-in was that author’s view of detective novels being not too far removed from Trollope’s style of fiction. That’s a starting point, but she doesn’t actually spend time on him as she finds P.D. James and Ruth Rendel to be more interesting. I briefly riffled through Peter Ackroyd's book, The English Soul, but there was less there than I'd hoped.

And I can’t quite recall how it came about, but there was also a quick visit to Gentlemen Prefer Blondes by Anita Loos. Initially published in 1925 as a series of short stories in Harper’s Bazaar, the book took off. I had to wonder if Birmingham had read it. Lorelei is a bit more the "wide-eyed innocent" than George Birmingham’s Elsie in The Hymn Tune Mystery, but we’re definitely talking about young women breaking free of corsets and constraints.

This is Sunday and I’m returning to E.C.R. Lorac. I thoroughly enjoyed Fell Murder and now I’m on to the sequel, The Theft of the Iron Dogs.

>150 jillmwo: Not too high of a wall! It was fascinating to see where your thoughts took you.

>150 jillmwo:
A Padre in France is Birmingham (Rev. James Owen Hannay) recounting his experiences in France as an army chaplain in the years 1915-18.

Passing thought:

Woke up this morning with the idea in my brain that I was thinking about the compartmentalization of time incorrectly. Was this because I was thinking about the Lama and his River in Kim before I fell asleep last night? Or does it have to do with working as part of an information community driven by the academic semester? (That is, thinking about reading lists on a syllabus -- the selections need to be feasible for the available study time. But why should I feel confined to the three months of a regular semester?)

>151 Karlstar: Thank you! I do sometimes wander all over the place (mentally speaking).

>152 pgmcc:. And that one I see is available via Project Gutenberg. Hmm, seems as if it's worth a look. How did you discover this man in your reading? And how much of his stuff have you gotten through?

>153 jillmwo:
How did you discover this man in your reading? And how much of his stuff have you gotten through?

Prepare yourself for a long story, and do not criticise yourself for rambling thoughts. I really enjoy your pensive wanderings. It is like going for a mental stroll with a friend through new landscapes.

Firstly, how did I discover George A. Birmingham?

My wife's family had a lot of old books and my wife had a particular favourite, The Simpkins Plot. After her parents died she tried to track down the copy amongst the books that were now resident with her sister. Unfortunately she could not find the book and was most disappointed.

Being the sucker loving and considerate husband that I am I determined to find a copy for her. At the time the Internet was very rudimentary and searching was very hit and miss. Eventually I tracked down a copy in a famous old bookshop in Galway called Kenny's Bookshop. The original shop is now closed, but it still has a warehouse and shop in a business park on the Galway ring road where it will sell books directly and on-line.

A quick aside; my wife has just given me a bowl of strawberries. They are delicious.

Kennys also had an art gallery and it remained open and expanded into the old bookshop.

Kennys was very progressive and was the first bookshop in Ireland to start selling books on-line. This was in the 1980s.

Back to the main story.

The copy they had, and as far as I could tell at the time, was the only copy in existence, and was a rebound (i.e. it had new covers; not that it had been bounced off a wall or two) first edition on sale for the enormous price of £30. I did not hesitate and bought it for my wife. She was delighted and reread it as soon as it arrived.

She was so excited about reading it, and was obviously enjoying it a lot (loud outbursts of laughter led me to this deduction), I decided I would read it too.

The Simpkins Plot, published in 1911, was very funny, but the main thing that struck me was that in telling its story it described the socio-economic and political reality of the time. Having liked the book and discovered that Birmingham recorded the way of life of the time, I decided to see if he had written any other novels. That is when I had my eyes opened and I learned that The Reverend James Owen Hannay, a Church of Ireland minister later to become a Church of England minister, was the real name of George A. Birmingham, and that he had written over sixty novels between 1905 and 1950 when he died.

I had taken the bait and at this stage I have acquired copies of most if not all of his novels.

My researches extended to the life of the man himself, and I have gathered several books and articles, both physical and electronic, written by him in non-novel form, and about him, his writings and other activities. It turns out he was very active politically and in a good way. He was a force for reconciliation on the Island and was Douglas Hyde’s (the first President of Ireland) right-hand-man in The Gaelic League, something that was not appreciated by many of his co-religionists.

One book I bought and read is The Life and Writings of James Owen Hannay (George A. Birmingham), 1865-1950 (Studies in British Literature) by Brian Taylor. This gave me a lot of information about the man, his clerical work, and his novels. It turned out that he was a renowned writer of theological works and was held in very high regard in this area.

His life has shadows of Johnathan Swift in that he was also born in Belfast (all the best people are) and became a Church of Ireland minister working in Southern Ireland. Like Swift, Hannay also became the Canon of St. Patrick’s Church of Ireland cathedral in Dublin. Hannay’s interest in the Gaelic rejuvenation led him to organising the first Irish language communion service in St. Patrick’s cathedral.

Before I write another ten pages on the life of Rev. Canon James Owen Hannay, let me address the second part of your question. And how much of his stuff have you gotten through?

I have been remiss in many respect and have only read five of his novels. I have, however consumed massive amounts of material about the man himself. The book on his life and writings is the result of a significant amount of academic research and is quite lengthy, but also fascinating.

I have read Birmingham’s first two novels, The Seething Pot and Hyacinth, which were very political, as were his next three. The other books I have read are Two Scamps, The Simpkins Plot and, as you know, The Hymn Tune Mystery.

I had a notion of reading his novels in sequence and mapping them to the prevailing socio-political situation of their time. It appears he wrote his novels very quickly and they were published straight away. Apparently he was very popular both on this side of the Atlantic and in the USA. He had publishers in both London and New York. While some of the books I have are first editions, some of them are the fifteenth or sixteenth printing showing how popular he was.

There are some of his novels published under two titles. Apparently he was not averse to sending his works off to multiple publishers under different titles and on more than one occasion his works were accepted by more than one publisher and produced under the different titles.

This only scratches the surface about the man’s life and works, but I think I have addressed your two questions.

I hope you do not mind this wall of words. 😊

>154 pgmcc: I could never mind such an intriguing account of how you found yourself enmeshed with a particular author. I think it's charming that you wooed the woman in your life with a book she coveted. (More men should woo their wives with such gifts.)

I read the first chapter of The Simpkins Plot over on Project Gutenberg and I can see what you mean about his presenting a sense of the life of the time. I have no idea of where the story will head next but I'm certainly intrigued.

More to come, but it will be tomorrow (that would be Wed, Sept 4).

>150 jillmwo: Ha! This wall was scalable! I'm not so sure about >154 pgmcc:'s though. I'll have to come back for that later.

Today's general question is what type of victim do you prefer in a mystery? Do you want the victim to be a horrible person (perhaps somewhat deserving of the foul act of murder) OR do you prefer to read a story where the detective's driving need of resolution is based on the unfairness of the victim being likeable and therefore not deserving to end up as the corpse on the floor of the darkened library?

I had thought the general convention in murder mysteries (useful in terms of establishing motive) was to kill off a nasty character. The miser, the tyrant, the black-mailer, etc. Sometimes authors kill off the nice person (and then you get mad at them for doing so). Don't you?

>157 jillmwo: I have no preference! I suppose that I mostly think about other aspects of a mystery novel. It could be the writing, the setting, the characters, the process of solving the mystery, etc.

Who the victim was would effect your emotions while reading, naturally.

Two quick write-ups of mysteries by E.C.R. Lorac and both published in 1946. (Yes, I liked these and this woman really deserves to be brought back into print!)

The Theft of the Iron Dogs - This is one portion of what might be viewed as a trilogy. We are introduced to the basic setting in Fell Murder. The Garthmere estate agent, John Staples is a nice, capable sort. In The Theft of the Iron Dogs, John Staples introduces our amiable Scotland Yard detective to Giles Hoggett who draws Macdonald (and the reader) even further into the community. Finally there is Crook o’ Lune which is where Macdonald consults with Hoggett over land to buy for his retirement. Yes, there are murders in these three books by Lorac, but really I find the novels most enjoyable for the sake of the characters and the descriptions of English agricultural life, both during and just after World War II.

In The Theft of the Iron Dogs, Hoggett is unsettled by the notion that someone’s been hiding out in one of the more remote cottages without proper permission. Things are left just a bit wrong and just a bit out of place. As it happens, Inspector Macdonald is visiting the region, following up on a member of what appears to be a crime syndicate out of London. The agricultural community is disgruntled in part by the disruptions of wartime regulations, but more by those who might be “just travelin through”. It’s a slow start – no dead body appears until about 100 pages in – but the descriptions and the characterizations make that slow pace thoroughly enjoyable. The reader is just as annoyed as the unhappy farmers over the disruption that suddenly draws attention away from their daily occupations. It’s fun seeing Macdonald’s London-bred cockney assistant arrive in the area and find his own way of connecting with the locals. Underneath everything, the people who live here are good. That outlook on humanity is what makes Lorac’s crime novels so appealing and enjoyable.

The Fire in the Thatch - 1946, so towards the end of World War Two. People are beginning to think about what has changed and what new arrangements will be wanted in post-war England. Developers are nosing around and trying to pick up land on the cheap. Such businessmen have no interest in blending in with the ways of the existing community. Why preserve a lifestyle so stuffy and dull? At the same time, there are a few returning men with injuries who are eager to fit in – lease a small cottage, bring the place up to snuff, and toil in a small garden. Why would anyone want to murder someone who has survived combat and who just wants to abide quietly? It’s not immediately clear what the motive might be nor is it clear why anyone would set a partly-renovated thatched cottage on fire. The locals are more outraged by this type of destruction in their small world than they are by the bombing of cities. Macdonald restores order with the aid of the remarkably sensible Alf, a billeted orphan from London. Alf may eat everything in sight, but he also sees much that represents useful information.

Of the two, I much preferred Iron Dogs, but that may be because I am fond of the recurring characters. Honestly, Lorac presents such wholesome attitudes and communities that it is a joy to visit them. I understand why Christie might eclipse her in some ways, but E.C.R. Lorac belongs in any Golden Age collection right alongside the Grand Dame. (I haven’t yet read some of her other titles on my shelf, but thus far, I’ve not encountered any duds.)

Meanwhile I’m snickering over The Simpkins Plot. Wickedly funny.

>160 jillmwo:
I have The Fire in the Thatch awaiting attention.

It pleases me no end that you are enjoying The Simpkins Plot. My with will be delighted that people here are enjoying this book in particular and Birmingham's work in general.

I feel I have done good work here. :-)

>160 jillmwo: "I’m snickering over The Simpkins Plot. Wickedly funny."

Me too.

>157 jillmwo: I am not to particular about the victim, but I think I prefer them to seem a lovely person whom no one would want to kill until the author reveals little by little that they were a horrible person that everyone wants to kill. That being said, variety is the spice of life, especially in murder mysteries.

I learned early on not to trust Margaret Frazer to only kill the bad people, nor does she only have bad people for her killers. I don't trust her, but I can't put down her books, either.

>157 jillmwo: I was going to say I had no preference, but then I read what MrsLee wrote. So it would seem I definitely prefer them to have been despicable people, but I agree it is sometimes more enjoyable not to realize how awful they were right out of the gate.

I am so excited!! A Book Came Today! (The one ordered back in late July and for a variety of reasons, I had given up all hope of receipt. I am just so tickled pink because it's a very serious book about cathedrals.) Happy dance!!

Also a happy dance because I got SHOES that I can wear today. (Still working out the part where I walk around in them, but hey, one day at a time...)

>165 jillmwo:
Careful with that dancing. You need to get used to those shoes before doing jig.

Enjoy the book…and your new shoes.

>166 pgmcc: No worries -- it was kind of a "virtual reality" sort of dance. The book and the shoes within the same 24 hours set up quite the emotional surge of happiness. Honestly, I'd given up on the book! To have it actually show up restores my faith in humanity to some extent.

On another topic, Kipling returns to the forefront: https://pa.media/blogs/pa-uplifting/cambridge-university-library-is-allocated-ki...

I hadn't been aware that Kipling was the first recipient of the Nobel Prize for Literature (back in 1907).

>165 jillmwo: Enjoy the book and the shoes and the walking.

>168 Karlstar: All the things. Today it's raining so I can't go out, but yes, I'm doing all the things. (and shoes do make a difference...)

Today's fly in the ointment is that I scribbled down a reference encountered in a book, waited too long (a few days) before actually looking it up, and now I can't remember for the life of me what I might have been reading that referenced four chapters out of the Bible. (3 from Isaiah and 1 from Matthew). I am absolutely flummoxed.

If you have a free moment, go read the essay "Against Rereading" found at: https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2024/09/04/against-rereading/

It's really quite something. (And not in a good way...) I have thoughts, but am trying frame them in such a way as to be polite while calling the man an idiot.

>170 jillmwo: It's a storm in a teakettle. Trying to rile those who reread books by giving short-sighted and elementary reasons why anyone would reread a book.

So he doesn't like to reread a book? Bully for him! Have fun in your reading adventures and peace to you. Meanwhile, there are those of us who do seek comfort in reading favorite books. So what? There are also those of us who have read so many books we can't possibly remember them all and need to revisit them to fill in the missing bits. Then there are those who are not necessarily reading for the initial thrill of the one through. We go back to luxuriate in deep or wonderfully phrased passages, or to probe the depths of the author's intent, or indeed, to see the effect a work has on us now as compared to when we were younger.

It's not a competition.

"The most obvious argument against rereading is, of course, that there just isn’t enough time. It makes no sense to luxuriate in Flaubert’s physiognomic details over and over again, unless you think you’re going to live forever."

As a person who knows they are living on borrowed time, I can say that this argument lived in my head for a short time, until I politely pushed it aside because spending time with old and dear friends is even more precious now.

>170 jillmwo: I have thoughts too, now. I'll be waiting for your polite refutal, and read it with pleasure.

This was... strange.

>171 MrsLee: giving short-sighted and elementary reasons why anyone would reread a book

Very true!

Also, hugs.

>171 MrsLee: I was not in the habit of rereading things (with the exception of The Lord of the Rings) until I hit a certain age. Much of my reading is for pleasure, and some is for enlightenment. I realized that there was zero chance that I was ever going to get to read everything that I wanted to, so I might as well read what I enjoy. That's one of the reasons why I have started to listen to some of my favorites. Audio books seem to tickle a slightly different part of my brain, and I will notice things I didn't notice when I was reading the same book with my eyes.

>170 jillmwo: That article sounds like he's trying to convince himself that rereading is a mostly a waste of time, but that he doesn't really believe it.

click-bait.

>175 reconditereader:. I know. But who'd have thought The Paris Review would sink to such a thing? Just because they're no longer serving as a cover for a CIA agent...

>171 MrsLee: and >174 clamairy: You are not the only persons who have suggested that the author just seems mostly to desire attention.

>172 Alexandra_book_life:. When the post goes up, I'll holler. I've entitled the piece Sex and the Serious Reader.

Well, Sex and the Serious Reader won't go up until next week, Alexandra_book_life, but here's a bit of thinking extracted from the longer post.

"Schwartz writes that one should never read the same book twice. The ideal experience in reading is one he likens to that of experiencing sexual orgasm. There should be such an “immediacy, intensity, and complete surrender involved in the initial experience” that any second experience of the text would be a disservice.

His essay explains that multiple readings of a single book represent too cautious an approach to life, one too conservative because it insists on holding onto the past, only enjoyable by those craving dull stability. The educational practice of rereading classic novels only solidifies the base of a pre-existing literary canon. Rereading is appropriate when training graduate students, nothing more. One runs the risk of becoming bored. Life is too short. Again, to quote him, “the same end awaits us all”.

To which my response is to snort rudely and refer Schwartz to Oscar Wilde comment that "If one cannot enjoy reading a book over and over again, there is no use in reading it at all."

Just because one can’t perfectly replicate a break-through experience of formative sensation is no reason to forego ever again engaging in a particular behavior. To use his logic and his own metaphor, that would suggest that a single satisfying act of coitus should only be experienced once in a lifetime, Because you can’t ensure that you will experience the identical moment of climax – the immediacy, intensity and complete surrender. You should really only enjoy it just the one time.

He isn’t arguing for a more authentic or fuller interpretation of reading material. He seeks to avoid any new insight that might emerge. He doesn’t want to have an expanded understanding of what the Other has experienced nor a better grasp of the expression of a response to a life lived. In his view, regardless of whether the reader is attuned to the author’s subject, writing style, etc., it is the first impression of a work that is central.

There has been no connection, no absorption, no shared meaning. It may have opened up a new possibility in his head, but he didn’t authentically connect with an author. He “felt” something that night under the covers, but he doesn’t (even now) recognize what it was that he may have been missing. (Shades of When Harry met Sally.)

One should be careful about setting a bar of expectations, but let me say this. Reading (just like sexual intercourse) should be a mind-blowing experience. Schwarz had a memorable experience at the age of ten; I do not deny that. But his essay, his philosophy, overlooks the critical point that there is something greater, something deeper and more complex that ought to be involved. Properly enacted, both activities demand attentiveness to the experience of another human in order to form that soul-bending connection."

>177 jillmwo: For the most part I agree with you wholeheartedly. But in his defense I will say that I have revisited books that I loved as a youth only to have the Suck Fairy pay an unwanted visit. So my advice would be to always be somewhat judicious in one's choice of rereads.

>178 clamairy:. Not disagreeing with you in the least. It is actually a quite personal decision. If he had actually made that an explicit point rather than suggesting that conventional use of rereading is a problem, I might have left him alone. But the logic of his argument did leave something to be desired. (You have no idea how much editing I did and how much external review I sought before deciding to go ahead and submit for publication. Didn't want it to look as if I wad only talking to hear myself talk in a similar bid for attention. There were one or two points where I did sidestep a legitimate aspect of his case and I think public writers have to be careful when they do that. Just like those who debate on tv while running for office. :>)

For pgmcc, a discussion of royalty statements, specifically for works in translation. https://www.bisg.org/news/unlocking-efficiency-bisgs-proposed-standards-for-tran...

>180 jillmwo:
It is interesting that these standards do not exist yet. I presume this is due to the myriad ways, both formal and informal, that translations agreements and processes have been carried out to date, and the lack of an overseeing controlling entity to enforce any standards or code of practice. It is good that the effort is now being made and that the working group is seeking output and, consequently, commitment to the new codes of practice.

It will be a slow burn, but hopefully it will catch on and people will see the benefits of having standard ways of doing things and exchanging information. If it makes big inroads into reducing the time devoted to preparing and reviewing statements then organisations will see financial and efficiency benefit that will help build commitment and acceptance.

>177 jillmwo:
I have remained silent on the rereading debate. My attempt to read the article against rereading linked to in >170 jillmwo: led me to wonder why I was wasting time reading the words of either a narrow-minded commentator or someone who was eager to put forward a position they do not really believe in to cause a reaction, i.e. he was writing click-bait and hoping to sit back and be amused by the reactions and replies.

His arguments about limited time to read all the things that could be read and therefore not giving any of that scarce resource to rereading is a reason I have never done a lot of rereading, but I would never be arrogant enough to say rereading is a bad idea. I regret not having the time to reread and wish I would do more.

In line with >178 clamairy:'s comment, I have been fairly careful with what I have reread and the great majority of my rereads have revealed aspects of stories that I missed during my first read. I always take away more from a reread than I retained from a first read.

I got quite angry with the author of that article and part of the reason I have been silent is that I resent spending any of my precious time responding to his stupidity, and therefore realising his dream of creating controversy and agitation. His success in having me spend time writing this post adds fuel to the fury I feel against the man. (Breathe Peter. Breathe.)

In relation to his analogy, I think I would want to repeat the experience as often as possible. "One-touch and done" might be the motto of call-centres handling customer service calls, but in the context of sexual activity I would consider "one-touch and done" to be rather anticlimactic.

>177 jillmwo: Hahaha, obviously the author lost me towards the end of his article because I missed the "orgasm" statement completely. Orgasm's are nice, but even nicer with someone you know well, understand and enjoy being with even when the moments aren't "climactic."

Having just reread Witches Abroad by Terry Pratchett, I can honestly say that I enjoyed it more on this second reading because aside from the joy of his humor, I could watch his method as he led up to the climax of the joke, and I enjoyed the joke even more seeing how he accomplished it.

Thank you for your thoughtful comments on the subject. I agree with Peter, and wouldn't have given the article anymore headspace, but you had to bring in the sex, and you know I can't stay away from that! ;)

>181 pgmcc:. Yes to this: It is good that the effort is now being made and that the working group is seeking output and, consequently, commitment to the new codes of practice.

The thing about the rereading column is that (at least in part as a creator) one can sympathize with him that he wants to preserve his recollection of a formative moment for him so that he can delve into those emotions at a later point in time. And he does say in the column that his rule primarily applies to those works that serve as some kind of transformational "hinge" for him. (That's one of the things that I passed over in my full piece. Which isn't really fair of me. It may weaken my case with more exacting readers.)

On one level, given his background as a writer of poetry, I can see where he's coming from. To be a good poet, you have to remember the fleeting emotion, the way something made you feel, and replicate that for the reader in a concise manner. Poetry is too compact as a form to do otherwise.

At the same time, the problem with his piece (in my mind) is that his position elevates reader response over the actual intent and output of the source material. Over the past thirty or forty years, that has become an accepted aspect of the reading experience according to educators, literary experts, and critics. Personally, I only value reader response when the response shows a full understanding of the context in which the author was expressing their meaning.

I see his work as something of a puff piece. (I edited out the part where I said it sounded as if he was simply fulfilling a contractual obligation to provide 2500 words. I also removed the bit where i said I might find him to be a disappointing partner in bed. Honestly, this is why some of my published pieces take me a week or more to craft. The little voice in the back of my head reminds me that one should not always express a negative opinion at full voice on a public street corner during the height of rush hour. If it goes out on social media in any way, No, Jill, you may not say that. Find a more gracious, a more diplomatic wording to get the point across. Are there other words you might use besides idiot?)

I didn't mean for that link in post #170 to rile you, pgmcc, or raise your blood pressure and it sounds as if it might have done. It took me a few days to think through my own response so I do understand the ire. Please, please go have a glass of wine and a bit of brie. Find a nice purring cat that you can stroke. Read something lovely. Look for an elephant. There is always an elephant.

>177 jillmwo: Still looking forward to it, then :)

Your sex analogy was fun!

Rereading is a precious thing. I don't do it as much as I used to. (For this, I blame the sheer availability of books for my kindle.) But every time I discover that I am not the same reader I was two, five, ten... years ago. Ha, one might argue that we should not call it rereading - instead, we are reading a different book, it just happens to have the same title and author as the book read x years ago :D

>177 jillmwo: Well said. I've always found that a re-read of a book uncovers a different perspective, whether it is appreciating a bit of prose I missed or forgot, or as >182 MrsLee: said, you see what's coming and appreciate it more.

Like >181 pgmcc: I found myself thinking that article was a waste of my time, I got halfway through, skimmed to the end and I'll certainly not bother to re-read it. I guess he made his point?

>183 jillmwo:
Your post did not rile me; it was the article.

As it happens, I did have some wine and some Carrigaline Garlic & Herb cheese, which is delicious and strongly recommended.

>184 Alexandra_book_life:
There is also the aspect that we are not reading it as the same person who read it before. We will all have changed in some way.

>187 pgmcc: Yes, exactly!

It's a little thing, but at bedtime I've been reading Rudyard Kipling's Kim and I think Alberto Manguel was right about one thing in his essay in A Reading Diary. This is a book that for whatever reason becomes friendlier across time with multiple readings. Another book I own Something of Themselves calls this novel a joyful masterpiece and I do in fact see what that comment by Sarah LeFanu means. It is a fun and joyful tale and it is not your ordinary coming-of-age story. Kim is surprisingly confident as well as competent as a twelve year-old boy; three years in the English school provides him with practical skills but those skills are not what brings on his becoming a man. It is his consciousness of what goes on around him and his care for the old Lama that is the foundation of that maturity.

It's certainly a very male-oriented story and there are a variety of cultural barriers to overcome as one is reading, but it is definitely a worthwhile title.

Woke up this morning and enjoyed that absolutely delicious sensory experience of there being no physcial discomfort in any portion of the body. Everything was relaxed and adequately supported by the mattress and nothing in its current position felt strained. I lay there and enjoyed it so thoroughly that I fell back asleep for fifteen minutes. My elbow wasn't complaining. The tendon in my buttocks wasn't sensitive. The whole architecture of bone and muscles across my shoulders had no problem. It was so pleasant a sensation. Why can't I wake up like that every morning?

Of course, it's now 9am and the elbow is annoyed. All across my shoulders I feel a pull. And if I don't stand up from the desk at some point in the next fifteen minutes, my rear end and my hips will protest.

*murfle*

>190 jillmwo: I hear ya, only, I haven't woken up without some body part complaining for a long time. Wish I had appreciated my body when it was all working properly.

>190 jillmwo: Lots of hugs!

>190 jillmwo:
Big hug. I am glad you had some time in the good place.

>191 MrsLee:
The young never appreciate what they have.
Big hug to you too.

>190 jillmwo: >191 MrsLee: I'm fairly sure I'm older than either of you, and yes, these mornings tend to get rarer. Old age is not for sissies. Also, what Peter said.

>190 jillmwo: Congrats, at least you had a few moments! Wishing you have many more.

196 is a lot, isn't it?

You're right, Karlstar. Moving to create the new thread.