Lordy Lordy, Jim is boring.
Doesn't rhyme, don't care.
I tried so hard to make it through this book, like, really tried. I couldn't even get through the Spark Notes, to be honest. I don't know if it was the mood I was in, or the nautical/court room setting, or the small print.... For whatever reason, the novel didn't not incite me to keep reading.
Not wanting to be completely negative about this entry, I will say that while the book often times put me to sleep, it opened my eyes in other ways. Not wanting to give up reading and not wanting to move on to another book, I started reading outside my novel list for the first time in a long time. I joined a book club. We mainly drink wine and talk about men, but we also read really current and exciting books. In the past year I've read about 12 books, all outside the reading list and all able to keep me up at night and stay on my mind all day.
Lord Jim didn't help me move forward at a good pace with my reading goal but it did remind me of why I had made the goal in the first place. I LOVE reading! Such a dorky statement, but its so true. I started because I wanted to open my mind, learn, and enjoy myself. I stopped because I felt stupid for not understanding the book and I was too stubborn to leave it behind, unread.
Going forward, I am hopeful that this won't happen again, but if it does and I have tried my best, I will count that as a job well read.
Thursday, June 5, 2014
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Sophie's Choice by William Styron
Oh Sophie! What was your choice??
It was the reason I chose this book for my next read and was the reason I read this book around the clock until it was finally revealed at the near end of the novel.
So many times in conversations, in films, and in books, a Sophie's choice reference is made and the more I heard and didn't understand what was going on, the more I knew that this was a book I would have to read.
Although I always knew that it would be a decision between two terrible options, I couldn't help but hope that I had been wrong. I grew to love Sophie, all of her witty and zany and emotional ways.
I try to keep these book entries light and fun but even after having turned the last page many months ago, I still feel great sadness when I think of what she endured.
Her story was heart wrenching enough, but it also started be on a obsessive journey in to the world of the Holocaust. I read more books and watched all of the movies that I could on the subject. It was a dark time. A time that made me so thankful for how far we have come away from that hatred and terror. I understand that there is still wars and torture and evil in the world today, but I am happy that that chapter in history of what happened to the Jews is closed.
Now when I hear a reference to making a 'Sophie's choice' I cringe. No choice is a unbearable as the one she made and it pains me when people use the phrase lightly.
So that's it. It was well written and gut wrenching and definitely struck a chord with me. A chord that is still too sad to delve into any more than I just have.
It was the reason I chose this book for my next read and was the reason I read this book around the clock until it was finally revealed at the near end of the novel.
So many times in conversations, in films, and in books, a Sophie's choice reference is made and the more I heard and didn't understand what was going on, the more I knew that this was a book I would have to read.
Although I always knew that it would be a decision between two terrible options, I couldn't help but hope that I had been wrong. I grew to love Sophie, all of her witty and zany and emotional ways.
I try to keep these book entries light and fun but even after having turned the last page many months ago, I still feel great sadness when I think of what she endured.
Her story was heart wrenching enough, but it also started be on a obsessive journey in to the world of the Holocaust. I read more books and watched all of the movies that I could on the subject. It was a dark time. A time that made me so thankful for how far we have come away from that hatred and terror. I understand that there is still wars and torture and evil in the world today, but I am happy that that chapter in history of what happened to the Jews is closed.
Now when I hear a reference to making a 'Sophie's choice' I cringe. No choice is a unbearable as the one she made and it pains me when people use the phrase lightly.
So that's it. It was well written and gut wrenching and definitely struck a chord with me. A chord that is still too sad to delve into any more than I just have.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time by Mark Haddon
My motivation to read The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time came, curiously enough, at approximately 2 am on a Saturday night in a seedy bar while watching a highly intoxicated ex-lover that I was madly in love with, cry into his twelfth beer. A tragic Saturday indeed.
I was summoned there by a distraught man that I thought I had been dating, to be a open ear, a shoulder to cry on, and possibly a ride home. In my mind, I was there to be a saviour. In his words, I was there because I was being used.
It had been four rocky months since I had met him and I was still very much gunning for the position of girlfriend. I knew that it was likely that he was not looking for the same relationship that I was, but when he called asking for help, I was there, hoping for a turning point for the better.
I ran through the night (in a very dramatic fashion, naturally) only to find him alone, slumped on the table, in the middle of a melt down, spurred on by his perception of those around him to be highly superficial.
Somewhere in his slurred rambling about why should not be together, he mentioned that he saw similarities between the main character of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time and himself. Similarities in not having the ability to connect with other people. Not wanting to appear like I hadn't read every book that he had, I said that I understood where he was coming from.
In actual fact, I had not a clue. I text mailed the name of the book to myself, strapped him to my back, and brought him home to my couch to sleep it off.
After a very sad and final breakfast, I dropped him off and headed straight to the liquor store and the used book store. Armed with a bottle of Chardonnay and with what I thought was a text book on the inner workings of my ex-lover, I hit the sheets.
Much to my suprise/chagrin, I learned that the main character of the book, Christopher Boone, was a ten year old boy with Autism from a broken home. The opposite to the older, highly intelligent man who had just broken my heart.
I read the book with enthusiasm and a detective-like eye, looking for any clues that could either help me to realize that I had dodged a bullet or have insight that could help me to bring him back into my life.
The story follows young Christopher Boone as he attempts to solve the murder of his next door neighbour's dog and incidently unravels the lives and lies of his parents.
Needless to say, I was more confused than ever as I turned the last page. If anything, at the time I saw more similarities between Christopher and myself as we were both searching for clues and getting no answers to the questions we were asking ourselves and others.
It was certainly a lovely book, one that I enjoyed more upon reading it a second time, without looking for answers that pertained to my own life. On the second go around I was struck by one sentence that seemed to answer all of my questions.
"And this shows that sometimes people want to be stupid and they do not want to know the truth"
How this ten year old Autistic child taught me something so profound, I will never figure out. His matter of fact approach to life was one that I would have to adopt in order to move on and be happy. It seems as though the root of my heart ache had been in taking a simple fact and not believing in it. The situation was quite clear by most accounts, that the one I wanted to be with said that he did not want to be with me.
No amount of books or analysis or wine or gossipping would change that. There was no hidden gem in the book, or anywhere for that matter, that would turn up and change what was already decided. So many times we look so hard at a cut and dry scenario, looking for what we want when it is clear that what we want is just not there.
There are no complex situations, just complex ways of looking at them.
In a round about way, I had my answer. He was nothing like Christopher Boone, but the reference was what ended up giving me peace in the situation. Funny how I read this book in order to learn about an old flame and ended up learning about myself. I think that is proof that the universe is looking out for me.
So thank you Christopher, or rather Mark Haddon, for opening my eyes. For teaching me that my optimism should not be wasted on another indiviual or situation, but on my own growth.
Turns out that the only mystery worth solving in my own life is me, and I am surely the best detective for the job.
I was summoned there by a distraught man that I thought I had been dating, to be a open ear, a shoulder to cry on, and possibly a ride home. In my mind, I was there to be a saviour. In his words, I was there because I was being used.
It had been four rocky months since I had met him and I was still very much gunning for the position of girlfriend. I knew that it was likely that he was not looking for the same relationship that I was, but when he called asking for help, I was there, hoping for a turning point for the better.
I ran through the night (in a very dramatic fashion, naturally) only to find him alone, slumped on the table, in the middle of a melt down, spurred on by his perception of those around him to be highly superficial.
Somewhere in his slurred rambling about why should not be together, he mentioned that he saw similarities between the main character of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time and himself. Similarities in not having the ability to connect with other people. Not wanting to appear like I hadn't read every book that he had, I said that I understood where he was coming from.
In actual fact, I had not a clue. I text mailed the name of the book to myself, strapped him to my back, and brought him home to my couch to sleep it off.
After a very sad and final breakfast, I dropped him off and headed straight to the liquor store and the used book store. Armed with a bottle of Chardonnay and with what I thought was a text book on the inner workings of my ex-lover, I hit the sheets.
Much to my suprise/chagrin, I learned that the main character of the book, Christopher Boone, was a ten year old boy with Autism from a broken home. The opposite to the older, highly intelligent man who had just broken my heart.
I read the book with enthusiasm and a detective-like eye, looking for any clues that could either help me to realize that I had dodged a bullet or have insight that could help me to bring him back into my life.
The story follows young Christopher Boone as he attempts to solve the murder of his next door neighbour's dog and incidently unravels the lives and lies of his parents.
Needless to say, I was more confused than ever as I turned the last page. If anything, at the time I saw more similarities between Christopher and myself as we were both searching for clues and getting no answers to the questions we were asking ourselves and others.
It was certainly a lovely book, one that I enjoyed more upon reading it a second time, without looking for answers that pertained to my own life. On the second go around I was struck by one sentence that seemed to answer all of my questions.
"And this shows that sometimes people want to be stupid and they do not want to know the truth"
How this ten year old Autistic child taught me something so profound, I will never figure out. His matter of fact approach to life was one that I would have to adopt in order to move on and be happy. It seems as though the root of my heart ache had been in taking a simple fact and not believing in it. The situation was quite clear by most accounts, that the one I wanted to be with said that he did not want to be with me.
No amount of books or analysis or wine or gossipping would change that. There was no hidden gem in the book, or anywhere for that matter, that would turn up and change what was already decided. So many times we look so hard at a cut and dry scenario, looking for what we want when it is clear that what we want is just not there.
There are no complex situations, just complex ways of looking at them.
In a round about way, I had my answer. He was nothing like Christopher Boone, but the reference was what ended up giving me peace in the situation. Funny how I read this book in order to learn about an old flame and ended up learning about myself. I think that is proof that the universe is looking out for me.
So thank you Christopher, or rather Mark Haddon, for opening my eyes. For teaching me that my optimism should not be wasted on another indiviual or situation, but on my own growth.
Turns out that the only mystery worth solving in my own life is me, and I am surely the best detective for the job.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne
The first thing that I always thought of when I heard the words Scarlet Letter was SCANDAL. I don't know where I got this from since I had never known the plot of the Scarlet Letter, it was just one of those cliches that was ingrained in me. So I settled in for this scandalous read with an outdated plot and very current themes.
Ohhhh Hester, you dirty slut. Finding yourself in the arms of a loving man long after your husband has been presumed lost at sea.
Ummm, not so much.
If anything, I give her props for waiting as long as she did. Boston nights can be very cold and lonely.
This book really made me realize how far we have come in society in terms of what is acceptable behavior and punishment. I'm not saying that I agree with adultery, in fact I think that it's gross and hurtful, but in the case of Hester, not everything is black and white. Or scarlet.
A major theme of this book is reputation.
Years have passed, and one thing remains the same. The outcome of a slutty affair will always damage the woman involved, more than it will the man. It's disheartening and unfair but unfortunately no amount of feminist protests, bras being burned, or donations to the Hilary Clinton campaign will change that. The option for the modern woman is to take this double standard with the same grace and strength that Hester did.
Another strong theme is consequence.
Everyday we are faced with choices. Some are easy, some are hard. Some challenge you to look inside and stand up for what means the most to you. Some you don't even have to think about. Some are as simple as whether or not to give a cheating ex-boyfriend a second chance. That's an easy one, right? Riiight.
The fact is, every choice that we make, good or bad, is going to produce a consequence. In Hester's case, the consequence was harsh. To have a humiliating visual symbol of one choice attached to here person forever.
It made me think though. Just because we're not wearing the consequence of our bad decisions on the outside, doesn't mean that they are not burned into who we are.
Hester's disgrace took tangible form that everyone could see with their eyes and yet she was completely at peace. Today, shame can be hidden from those we pass on the street and those we love, but inside we are dying of guilt.
I can't tell which is worse.
I guess that's the real scandal.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
As I Lay Dying - William Faulkner
Sounds uplifting... right?!
Wrong.
Dead wrong.
Dead as Addie Bundren in a homemade coffin for eleven full days being dragged around by her unloving and toothless family through raging rivers and burning barns.
The Bundren family honours the wish of their matriarch to be buried in Jefferson county, however their reasons seem to me, to be all quite selfish. I kept thinking that at any moment one of the family members would choose to be the hero and save this family from themselves but, alas, that moment never came.
Once I realized that the actual story of these idiots (sorry Faulkner, but seriously) was never going to capture my interest, I started to just focus on the enjoyment of Faulkner's writing. He has a way with words which can make an entire novel seem like a poem.
Example #1
'And before you are emptied for sleep, what are you. And when you are emptied for sleep, you are not. And when you are filled with sleep, you never were.'
Makes sense... right?!
Wrong.
Dead wrong.
I'm sure that if I took my sweet time and a handful of ginko biloba I might be able to figure this riddle out, or at least have an opinion of what it means to me, but thats not what is going to happen here.
There are times in life when comprehension is critical, and times, like now, when you just have to sit back and enjoy the read.
Maybe Addie Bundren was on crack? Maybe she didn't know what the word empty meant? Maybe I don't know what the word empty means?
Maybe if I read the words, out loud, under my breath, it will sound like the a beautiful poem.
There's no denying that Faulkner has a way with the words that would make even Ernest, Ayn, and Aldous jealous. A few stuck out to me as favorites.
'If her eyes had been pistols, I wouldn't be talking now'.
I've been working on this look since 1996 and have yet to stop a man in his tracks. Expect for the ignorant few that stopped to ask if I was having a stroke.
'I wish I had time to let her die. I wish I had time to wish I had'.
The regret in this sentence is so crisp and so real that it blew me away. To wish you had done something differently or even at all is one thing. To wish you had even thought to wish it is a whole other monster. The sneak attack kind.
'It is as though the space between us were time; an irrevocable quality'.
This one made the wall of favorites. I'm not even quite sure what it mean but I do know that I love each word and I am quite contented staring at these words, trying to translate them into something I can hold.
I just hope that the next book of William Faulkner will still have his beautiful style of writing but a brighter and more interesting storyline to keep me rivited. A good love story would do the trick. Apparently Faulkner wrote this depressing novel in six weeks and didn't change a word of it.
Good decision...right?!
Wrong.
Dead wrong.
Wrong.
Dead wrong.
Dead as Addie Bundren in a homemade coffin for eleven full days being dragged around by her unloving and toothless family through raging rivers and burning barns.
The Bundren family honours the wish of their matriarch to be buried in Jefferson county, however their reasons seem to me, to be all quite selfish. I kept thinking that at any moment one of the family members would choose to be the hero and save this family from themselves but, alas, that moment never came.
Once I realized that the actual story of these idiots (sorry Faulkner, but seriously) was never going to capture my interest, I started to just focus on the enjoyment of Faulkner's writing. He has a way with words which can make an entire novel seem like a poem.
Example #1
'And before you are emptied for sleep, what are you. And when you are emptied for sleep, you are not. And when you are filled with sleep, you never were.'
Makes sense... right?!
Wrong.
Dead wrong.
I'm sure that if I took my sweet time and a handful of ginko biloba I might be able to figure this riddle out, or at least have an opinion of what it means to me, but thats not what is going to happen here.
There are times in life when comprehension is critical, and times, like now, when you just have to sit back and enjoy the read.
Maybe Addie Bundren was on crack? Maybe she didn't know what the word empty meant? Maybe I don't know what the word empty means?
Maybe if I read the words, out loud, under my breath, it will sound like the a beautiful poem.
There's no denying that Faulkner has a way with the words that would make even Ernest, Ayn, and Aldous jealous. A few stuck out to me as favorites.
'If her eyes had been pistols, I wouldn't be talking now'.
I've been working on this look since 1996 and have yet to stop a man in his tracks. Expect for the ignorant few that stopped to ask if I was having a stroke.
'I wish I had time to let her die. I wish I had time to wish I had'.
The regret in this sentence is so crisp and so real that it blew me away. To wish you had done something differently or even at all is one thing. To wish you had even thought to wish it is a whole other monster. The sneak attack kind.
'It is as though the space between us were time; an irrevocable quality'.
This one made the wall of favorites. I'm not even quite sure what it mean but I do know that I love each word and I am quite contented staring at these words, trying to translate them into something I can hold.
I just hope that the next book of William Faulkner will still have his beautiful style of writing but a brighter and more interesting storyline to keep me rivited. A good love story would do the trick. Apparently Faulkner wrote this depressing novel in six weeks and didn't change a word of it.
Good decision...right?!
Wrong.
Dead wrong.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
So when Christmas rolled around this year and the dreaded 4 hour solo road trip home was ahead of me, I felt the panic creeping into my brain. 4 HOURS OF WASTED TIME. Shoot me now.
No co-pilot (Sorry Sofi, you're not a human), no writing lists of things to do, no googling new recipes, or tweezing of the brows. And no reading. Therefore, no self-improvement and no entertainment (save one new Pearl Jam CD).
Let's just say I didn't have the greatest of expectations for this trip (wink, wink).
So in a last ditch effort to expand my mind I made a pit stop to Chapters and sifted through their entire selection of books on CD trying to find a book from my list. Shocking to me, Great Expectations was the only classic that they had and it was one that I had been looking forward to actually reading with my eyes not my ears. However, when your choices are Great Expectations or Hard and Fast and there are several prim and proper judgers standing behind you, you go for the former.
Hard and Fast will be much cheaper on Amazon.
Hard and Fast will be much cheaper on Amazon.
So off I ventured, with my soy venti latte, my trusty sidekick Sofi, Charles Dickens, and the open road.
Great Expecations has been my all time favorite movie since I was 13 years old. The version with Ethan Hawke and Gwenyth Paltrow shaped most of my tragic teenage romances and many of the disillusions that I hold dear to my heart still. Come on, the talented artist fighting for the love of a stone cold fox?? Sign me up!
But just because we love a movie, doesn't mean we will love the book. And just because your 14 year old boyfriend doodled Sonic the Hedgehog on your notebook, doesn't mean he will become a famous artist and paint pictures of you in the nude in New York City.
For once in my life, the movie has trumped the book. Ding ding ding! This round goes to Alliance Films! I think it was the way that I've felt about the movie for so long, and the colors of green that surround every emotion in the film that captured my heart.
The story is fascinating and definitely deeper and more complex in the book but my dislike for the old lady remains the same. I loved this part:
"And could I look upon her without compassion, seeing her punishment in the ruin she was, in her profound unfitness for this earth on which she was placed, in the vanity of sorrow which had become a master mania, like the vanity of penitence, the vanity of remorse, the vanity of unworthiness, and other monstrous vanities that have been curses in this world?"
So there it is. I 'technically' didn't read this one.
Call me a liar. Call me a cheat.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Gone With the Wind - Finished
Well, that was a loooong novel! Exciting and enthralling as well, thank you universe.
Gone With the Wind is one of those rare gems that actually made me cry at the end. I just knew that sick feeling in Scarlett's frenzied heart when she realized that she had been a fool pining over Ashley for all those years and that she truly loved Rhett. And the shock of Rhett's rejection just cut me to the core. I am the same as Scarlett in thinking that he just has to change his mind. He cannot just stop loving her after admiring and protecting her for so many years.
Scarlett and I could definitely go wine for wine on a girls night discussing this. And then out for breakfast the next morning to talk some more. And then some casual drivebys in the afternoon. Whilst talking.
It was so interesting to me when Scarlett made the realization that Ashley was not someone that she was in love with, but rather an idea that she had created and stubbornly held on to. She had loved him like a set of clothing, that anyone could have worn. And she knew, finally, that if he had given into her at anytime, she would have washed her hands of him and found a new object to fixate on.
Even after one thousand pages, I wish that I could read on and find out what happens to Scarlett. It is the saddest thing in the world to have regrets in matters of the heart and she has many.
The line where Scarlett says that she will make Rhett love her and make him come back to her is a little bit creepy (although I totally have her back on that one). It kind of seems that its not the love that she wants, its getting what she can't have. Being able to control the situation and control a man. I wonder if Rhett gave into her, if she would lose that love.
I'm watching the movie tonight and I'm curious to see if it ends the same as the book. I would like the film to be true to the book, however a fabulous, romantic ending never hurt anyone!
Gone With the Wind is one of those rare gems that actually made me cry at the end. I just knew that sick feeling in Scarlett's frenzied heart when she realized that she had been a fool pining over Ashley for all those years and that she truly loved Rhett. And the shock of Rhett's rejection just cut me to the core. I am the same as Scarlett in thinking that he just has to change his mind. He cannot just stop loving her after admiring and protecting her for so many years.
Scarlett and I could definitely go wine for wine on a girls night discussing this. And then out for breakfast the next morning to talk some more. And then some casual drivebys in the afternoon. Whilst talking.
It was so interesting to me when Scarlett made the realization that Ashley was not someone that she was in love with, but rather an idea that she had created and stubbornly held on to. She had loved him like a set of clothing, that anyone could have worn. And she knew, finally, that if he had given into her at anytime, she would have washed her hands of him and found a new object to fixate on.
Even after one thousand pages, I wish that I could read on and find out what happens to Scarlett. It is the saddest thing in the world to have regrets in matters of the heart and she has many.
The line where Scarlett says that she will make Rhett love her and make him come back to her is a little bit creepy (although I totally have her back on that one). It kind of seems that its not the love that she wants, its getting what she can't have. Being able to control the situation and control a man. I wonder if Rhett gave into her, if she would lose that love.
I'm watching the movie tonight and I'm curious to see if it ends the same as the book. I would like the film to be true to the book, however a fabulous, romantic ending never hurt anyone!
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