October 2014

I read:

Thoughts:

  • Africa39 edited by Ellah Wakatama Allfrey: Reviewed earlier.
  • I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou: Talked about here.
  • Sideways Stories from Wayside School: As funny as I remembered it being, although I wish that there was less calling of things stupid and ugly. I don’t like either of those as pejoratives in children’s books, especially tied together (i.e. being stupid implies ugly, and ugly implies stupid, and being both somehow makes one less meritorious of respect and love).
  • 10:04 by Ben Lerner: Reviewed earlier (although I initially typed Reviewered earlier and I kind of like Reviewered better than Reveiwed).
  • Message from an Unknown Chinese Mother: Stories of Loss and Love by Xinran: I didn’t find it as affecting as The Good Women of China.
  • And Home was Kariakoo by M.G. Vassanji: Reviewed earlier.
  • The Son by Jo Nesbø: So, here’s a quote from this book: “The male brain’s innate understanding of three dimensions.” Yep, just going along swimmingly and then BAM unnecessary gender essentialism. But then, so close to that, he quotes Leonard Cohen – Oh I am torn. Otherwise, typical übermensch thriller, each shot our hero takes is on target and bullets seem to deflect from him like he’s doing that whoosh whoosh whoosh that Neo does in The Matrix. I felt smart because I figured out (some of) the plot before the big reveal. Yay me!

    Bonus: Writing this mini-review has given me a good mental review of the alt-codes for accents.

  • Expo 58 by Jonathan Coe: Reviewed earlier.
  • Battle for WondLa by Tony DeTerlizzi: Last book in a trilogy. I wasn’t sold on the first book, was happier with the second, and back to being displeased with the third. But I’m not the target audience, not being a YA science-fiction fan.
  • Scatter is Too Great by Bilal Tanweer: Reviewed earlier.
  • A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness: I’m pretty sure I heard about this series from the author of Every Other Moment. And I tried. I tried so hard. And I hate it. I just have such a brain that cannot stomach 99% of the fantasy books out there. Why does no one in this book act rationally? It isn’t even endearingly irrational, like that Vorksagian Saga book I read that made no sense, but was somehow amusing in the nonsense.

    Plus, I was looking forward to reading it, and then it became a slog, so I got angrier. At least I had the sense to read synopses for the next too books in the series, rather than forcing myself to read them via some obsessive need for completeness.

  • The Sorrows of An American by Siri Husdvedt: And then more ugggghhhk. Read for book-club. Typical, naval-gazing American novel that likely appeals to Americans (see 10:04). Parts seemed to be farcical (the cross-dressing stalker) without any amusement. Everything doubled like each character had a mirror for whatever aspect was happening at that point (two widows, two single people, two stalkers, two psychiatrists, two fatherless children, etc.). The lone bit that interested me was the movie that gets talked about – it was like a James Incadenza sort of film. They should have just made a movie of that and put this book far away from me.

    Although, like A Discovery of Witches, someone I know loves this book, completely adores it, can’t get enough of it. I do think if you are working through loss, especially that of a parent or spouse, then this book might be more appealing to you.



Favourite book of the month: This was a strange month. Of all the new books I read, none got five out of five stars. In fact, I feel really angry at books this month. Most got around three stars. Some got put down to one, one and a half. I read a book I didn’t like, followed by another one I didn’t like, and it made me grumpy (well, grumpier). So I don’t know. I guess Wayside School. It reminded me of being a kid.

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Most promising book I put on my wishlist:

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I don’t even remember how I found out about this, probably CBC or The Globe and Mail. I read, right after we moved here, When Alice Lay Down With Peter, just picking it randomly off the shelf of the library, and wondered why I’d never heard of it before. When Tesfa and I go to the library, she often “chooses” a book for me, and always chooses When Alice Lay Down With Peter, something about the spine of green mixed with purple I suppose.

So I will read Margaret Sweatman’s new novel whenever I find myself a copy.



I watched:

  • Parks and Recreation: Reruns. On Netflix.
  • Happy Endings: I’m not seeing the reason for the love, but I’m also not not seeing the reason for the love either. It’s fine; that’s about all the enthusiasm I can muster up. I haven’t got to the last episode. Maybe it’s a cliffhanger and everyone is upset there’s no closure? I don’t know. I like Adam Pally best, but am much happier he’s on The Mindy Project now.
  • Thomas the Tank Engine: We watched a bunch of PBS in a hotel room before we trashed the place. Maybe not the trashing part. But the PBS part is true. And is there anything that says American Cultural Imperialism more than the fact that in the American versions of Thomas the Tank Engine, they overdub all the voices so that they are American accents. They even change the song at the end so that it has a country and western twist. I want my Ringo Starr reading me the story and all the accents from all over the UK for the trains!

    Next time we are in a hotel and Thomas the Tank Engine is on PBS, we will watch something else. I’ll have Tesfa watch the ones with British voices on youtube here at home.



I wrote: I had a story published. I typed an end to the faerie story. I did some thising and thating of typing up other pieces from the summer. But overall, nothing. I don’t even have stories I work on in my head as I go to sleep lately.