Tag Archives: Places to Read

Mayday! (Booking Through Thursday)

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Quick! It’s an emergency! You just got an urgent call about a family emergency and had to rush to the airport with barely time to grab your wallet and your passport. But now, you’re stuck at the airport with nothing to read. What do you do??

And, no, you did NOT have time to grab your bookbag, or the book next to your bed. You were . . . grocery shopping when you got the call and have nothing with you but your wallet and your passport (which you fortuitously brought with you in case they asked for ID in the ethnic food aisle). This is hypothetical, remember?

This is a no-brainer. If I had to sell my plasma to do it, I would buy books. If I had to sell my passport, I would buy books. There is no way in all the universe that I would get on a plane with nothing to read but Skymall.

I would pick up a new hardcover that I’ve been wanting to read, a Stephen King or Ann Rule paperback I’ve read before, and probably a trade paperback I have not read. Plus a Vanity Fair and some trashy women’s magazine. That should get me through a six hour flight–not that I will read all of that, but I won’t be anxious about running out of things to read.

As Amazon is my witness, I’ll never go bookless again.

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The Internet is Eating My Brain

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I promise I used to have an attention span.

And then I had a baby.

I had all these high hopes of doing tons of reading while nursing. But I’m not, thanks to the internet. The day my daughter was born I set my laptop on the radiator cover right next to my nursing glider, where I have full access to the world wide web over WiFi. Thanks to the Boppy & a well placed ottoman, I can nurse and browse the web at the same time. I could also be nursing & reading but the internet keeps sucking me in. It is easy to read, and it glows.

So my Barbara Vine book sits forlorn on the end table, and my TBR stack fails to grow smaller. I do things like post on parenting message boards and trade cloth diapers and read about what other people are reading on Google Reader. I do the New York Times crossword puzzle and research green living and add books to my Amazon wish list and the one I created for my daughter.

And yet–all is not lost. My daughter is a very easy baby (for now, I keep telling myself, for now) and she goes to bed without a fuss at 7:30 and sleeps until at least 3 am. All on her own! She is a genius, I know. But this spate of evening freedom means I have been able to go back to work on a limited basis for my reading job. You know, the one you’re all jealous about. And no, I won’t tell you anything about it except that I get paid to read books. And I read one tonight.

Feels good to be back.

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Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri

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Synopsis:
A collection of short stories set mostly among Indian immigrants in the US.

Review:
Jhumpa Lahiri’s The Namesake was one of my favorite reads of last year, so I decided I needed to check out her much-buzzed about collection of short stories, Interpreter of Maladies. It will surprise no one who has read these tales that I found them both simple and spectacular.

I am not usually a fan of short stories, though now that I am short on time for reading I’m finding them to be the perfect reading experience. In the past, I have gotten frustrated with short stories because they are over just too quickly, and I can’t read more than two from the same collection at a sitting without feeling like they’re starting to run together. Short stories are best appreciated on their own, so they’re just not suited for long reading sessions. They are, however, ideal for subway trips while wearing a baby who’s not sure she wants to take a nap. A 45-minute commute yields maybe 15 minutes of reading time. And that’s the perfect span for appreciating a good short story.

My other usual beef with short stories is that most of them seem to be trying too hard. It’s rare–outside of genre fiction–for a story to capture my attention based on concept alone. I just don’t want to read a strictly realist short story, no matter how acute the insights. Ho hum, is what I say. I most admire those stories that take me somewhere I’ve never been before. That’s why I’ve devoured Shirley Jackson’s stories. Most of them are set in the “real” world, but things are always just a little bit tweaked, with humor or with gothic weirdness or with just plain horror.

Lahiri certainly delivers a larger-than-life experience in each story. She’s got unique characters who are spellbinding without falling into quirky cliche, and she gives each story a plot with a strong enough motor to keep me turning the pages. She just has a way of making me curious about her situations, and when the stories are over I’m sad to say goodbye to the people to whom she’s introduced me.

My favorite story is the last, “The Third and Final Continent.” It’s an achingly sweet musing on the nature of love and longevity. The prose of the ending is so plain and direct that it’s like opening the door to a familiar surprise. The quiet confidence of her writing is alluring and winsome, and her command of point-of-view conjured up my beloved Kazuo Ishiguro.

Format (Booking Through Thursday)

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All other things (like price and storage space) being equal, given a choice in a perfect world, would you rather have paperbacks in your library? Or hardcovers? And why?

I prefer trade edition paperbacks, for the most part, because I do a lot of my reading on the subway, and hardcovers get really heavy and unwieldy. They’re also better for reading in bed, especially when they have to rest on a pregnant belly!

I also tend to prefer the way that trade paperbacks look, mainly because they seem to age more gracefully than the paper covers on most hardcovers. However, hardcovers survive rereadings better than paperback, and you kind of can’t beat the feeling of scoring a brand new book hot off the presses.

About a year ago, I was walking in Park Slop Brooklyn with a friend of mine, and we passed by a stack of books that someone had left out on the curb. Discarded books always call to me, and lo and behold this particular stack contained pristine hardcover copies of George RR Martin’s A Clash of Kings and A Storm of Swords. I quickly snatched them up and bookmooched away my paperback copies. I have A Feast for Crows in paperback, and I’m still hoping to find A Game of Thrones hardcover on bookmooch or elsewhere. I’d love to have a complete collection.

Now, I ought to add that the hardcover/paperback debate is one I think of constantly, because of my obsession with what James Kunstler calls The Long Emergency. Some people build bomb shelters, I’m building a library against the day when oil becomes too scarce to sustain our current way of life. (Of course, I do have faith in new energy sources and also have hopes that Kunstler is an alarmist.) But here’s my dilemma–hardcovers last longer, so ostensibly they’d be the wiser choice for a library to sustain me into my dotage. However, if the lights really do go off we might be forced into a more primitive way of living, in which case paperbacks will take up less space and be easier to carry in case we turn into nomads.

I’m totally insane, I know. At the very least, I’ll be the one clutching my copy of War and Peace as I wait to have stone soup poured into my tin cup at the peak oil refugee camp. Where I’m going to get a tin cup is another story, but it fits the picture, don’t you think?

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123 Meme

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The kind and well-read Walrus tagged me for the 123 meme. Thank you!

I’m currently reading Renegade’s Magic by Robin Hobb, which is sitting at the top of the stack next to my nursing glider. Also in the stack: The Axe by Sigrid Undset, the New King James Bible (not that I have bothered to read it lately), and Lose Your Mummy Tummy.

“Let me be forgotten by them. And what did I hope for myself? Hope. It seemed a bitter word now.”

Here are the rules:

1. Pick up the nearest book (of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.

I’m tagging:

Bybee
Dewey
Eva
Sensawunda
Sheila

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More Library Dreaming

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I posted this today to a community mailing list, in an exchange sparked by the observation that there are no bookstores within walking distance of our large, densely populated urban neighborhood. We don’t warrant favor from the powers-that-be at Barnes & Noble, and independent bookstores can’t thrive. Someone talked about the need for “third places” in our community, and proposed the library. I responded:

Libraries… now there’s a subject I’m passionate about. Libraries are not what they could be. They are designed like municipal spaces, where business is conducted as quickly as possible, not like places to enjoy. Many of our libraries are hideous on the inside. I support the Queens library foundation not because I have a hope that things will improve, but as a stopgap against the total disappearance of the library.

The trouble with the library as a third place (great concept, btw) is that libraries are meant to be quiet. Obviously that isn’t true of the Sunnyside branch, but the space itself does nothing to inspire reverence for literature and the written word. Who can fall in love in a place like that?

Imagine if the library were designed like B&N–large, inviting tables featuring curated selections, walls of new hardcovers, seating throughout, warm lighting, a cheerful kids section, and a cafe that’s attached but somewhat separate so that conversations won’t disturb browsers.

Of course, for this to happen would require a much greater commitment to civic life than can be found in society today. (Which could lead into a discussion about movie theaters, but I ought to see to my baby.)

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The Smartest Book Meme in Town

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As created by Eva, who will enter you in a drawing if you leave a comment on her post. Thanks for the, Sheila! I’m tagging Alissa, Terri, Megan, Rhinoa, and Ian–or Ian’s dad

Which book do you irrationally cringe away from reading, despite seeing only positive reviews?

Michael Chabon’s The Yiddish Policemen’s Union. I was in the midst of a horrific breakup while reading The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, and I put it down halfway through and have not Chabonned since.

In addition, he just can’t shake the stink of pretension in my eyes. He’s in the same company as Jonathan Lethem.

If you could bring three characters to life for a social event (afternoon tea, a night of clubbing, perhaps a world cruise), who would they be and what would the event be?

Now that I’m a mom, I’m flooded with insecurity and questions about child-rearing. So I’d like to spend a day at the park with Marmee from Little Women, Meg Murry’s mom from A Wrinkle in Time, and Kristin Lavransdatter from The Cross. I’d just sit and listen to them tell me everything they’ve learned from raising such fantastic children.

(Borrowing shamelessly from the Thursday Next series by Jasper Fforde): you are told you can’t die until you read the most boring novel on the planet. While this immortality is great for awhile, eventually you realise it’s past time to die. Which book would you expect to get you a nice grave?

Christian Metz’s The Imaginary Signifier. I hope I don’t have my master’s revoked for admitting that I could never get past page one.

Come on, we’ve all been there. Which book have you pretended, or at least hinted, that you’ve read, when in fact you’ve been nowhere near it?

Um… see previous?

As an addition to the last question, has there been a book that you really thought you had read, only to realise when you read a review about it/go to ‘reread’ it that you haven’t? Which book?

That has never happened to me. I can’t imagine what that would be like.

You’re interviewing for the post of Official Book Advisor to some VIP (who’s not a big reader). What’s the first book you’d recommend and why? (if you feel like you’d have to know the person, go ahead of personalise the VIP)

The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri, because it was an intoxicatingly pleasurable reading experience.

A good fairy comes and grants you one wish: you will have perfect reading comprehension in the foreign language of your choice. Which language do you go with?

Like Sheila, I’m going to go with Russian. My second choice would have to be French (and dammit, at one point I was so close).

A mischievious fairy comes and says that you must choose one book that you will reread one a year for the rest of your life (you can read other books as well). Which book would you pick?

War and Peace… having finally read it, I feel like it’s an imperative to read this book as regularly as possible.

I know that the book blogging community, and its various challenges, have pushed my reading borders. What’s one bookish thing you ‘discovered’ from book blogging (maybe a new genre, or author, or new appreciation for cover art-anything)?

Booking Through Thursday has been fun. Author-wise, I don’t think I would have read Henry Green or Robertson Davies if it hadn’t been for blogging.

That good fairy is back for one final visit. Now, she’s granting you your dream library! Describe it. Is everything leatherbound? Is it full of first edition hardcovers? Pristine trade paperbacks? Perhaps a few favourite authors have inscribed their works? Go ahead-let your imagination run free.

Well, Sheila basically described what would be my dream space, I’m going to also add a touch of magic. Bookshelves that never run out of room. Books that never go missing. Books that are always available to lend out–even if they never come back, there’s always a copy available. And a magic clock, so I can stop the hands of time and steal an hour to read.

How I Feel About the Library

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Ian from Upper Fort Stewart has a good post about how he doesn’t love the library, and asks how others feel about this venerable institution.

I love the library. It might be my favorite place in the world, in theory if not always in practice. I always feel immediately at home in a library, no matter where I am. I’ve never felt that comfortable in a bookstore.

I have always been a library lover, going back to my earliest days. I lived for those all-too infrequent visits to the Cockeysville Public Library, which used to be below Skateland, then moved to a super-modern, neon bedecked building when I was around 9 or so. I just loved standing in front of the stacks, looking at each book, spine by spine, pulling out those that intrigued me and filling my Montessori tote bag with enough reading excitement to last me for the next few weeks. Back in the olden days, the books had adhesive strips stuck to the back where the librarian stamped the due date. The strips would get built up, then peel off. I could never resist picking the strips off as soon as even one corner got loose. Continue reading →

Carsickness

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I finished a book on the subway this morning for my reading job. The only place in the world I can’t read is in the car. Train–fine. Subway–fine. Plane, bus, boat–no problem. But if I’m in the car and I spend more than 10 minutes looking at any kind of words, even on a map, I’m down for the count. When I was a kid, I figured out that I wouldn’t get sick as long as I couldn’t see out the window, so I would lay on my back in the backseat or on the floor of the car and hold the book above me. I think that might be a felony offense these days. Continue reading →

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