July 30, 2009
Bookish books in the post
I only just noticed that the two books I received in the post today both have books on their covers. On the left, we have The Incident Report by Martha Baillie, a library-set novel. I’d actually requested it from the library, which was fitting, I thought, but when I found I was 146 on the holds list, I decided to buy the book instead. I discovered this book via Melanie’s review— it’s structured as a collection of incident reports logged by employees at a public library. As a former library employee myself, I can vouch that these might be as bizarre as you like, and wonder if the fiction will be as wild as fact is. The other book is Shelf Discovery by Lizzie Skurnick, whose Fine Lines column I absolutely adore. As she does in the column, Skurnick rereads “teen classics” in this new book (with guests columnists including Meg Cabot, Laura Lippman and Jennifer Weiner). The reviews are hilarious, insightful and bring back long misplaced memories.
I think that both of these books are going to prove delightful in their own particular ways.
June 30, 2009
Update
So, I’m not going to say I’ve mastered nursing, I’ve certainly learned plenty in the past five weeks, and it’s getting better all the time. I will lay claim, however, to having mastered reading while nursing. Which I don’t do all the time for fear of child neglect or that she’ll grow up to think her mother is a hard cover, but I am pleased to say that I’ve got a lot of reading done lately. I read Catherine O’Flynn’s What Was Lost in a hurry, and enjoyed it very much. I’m now absolutely obsessed with Lisa Moore’s February, which I think will win the Giller Prize this year, if anyone’s betting. And this morning I bought The Ten Year Nap by Meg Wolitzer, who I’ve never read but have heard great things about (including from Jessica Westhead). So the moral is that reading is possible in this new life, as are banana pancakes, park bench afternoons, Midsomer Murders, laughter and ease. I have avoided daytime television thus far, which I’m quite proud of. New pleasures are late evening walks, respect for quiet, baby bathtime, board books and almost-smiles. And that’s starting to make everything else worthwhile.
June 12, 2009
A Novel Gift
Stuart and I both like the song “Daughter”, but the lyric “everything she owns, I bought her” doesn’t really apply to our situation. It’s more like, “That’s our daughter in the water, everything she owns was a gift from our extraordinarily generous friends and family.” She gets packages in the post near daily, always full of delightful things. We feel so lucky and appreciative of these gifts, and all the thoughts and good wishes we’ve received. Harriet lacks for nothing, no thanks to us really. Our freezer is also similarly stocked.
But one gift does stand out a bit. In addition to adorable summer outfits, Harriet’s Auntie Jennie also gave us a novel. Or, gave me a novel. It was Catherine O’Flynn’s novel What Was Lost, which I’ve wanted to read for ages. And this novel gift really was particularly novel, because nobody ever gives me books. Oh, as I’ve said, people give me lots of things, but I’ve read so many books already and my tastes are quite defined that friends are more inclined to give me other things. So that rarely do I ever receive a book as a surprise, let alone a book I’ve been dying to read anyway. I imagine I’m not the only bookish sort who suffers from this plight. Oh, the tortured problems of the middle class…
April 26, 2009
Road Trip to Don Mills
I am going to be totally honest– I arrived with heightened expectations and they weren’t entirely met. I’d heard so many good things about McNally Robinson Booksellers out west that I couldn’t miss checking out their first Ontario location, way out in the Don Mills countryside. So we drove out there this morning, me and two bookish ladies, and my husband who couldn’t remember why he’d signed up for the adventure. We arrived at the shopping mall, which was strange and confusing, with people on segways zipping about, and other people on stilts. The sun was bright and the sky was blue, and I was comfortable wearing a tank top– a gorgeous day. We found the bookstore quickly, and hurried our way inside.
The space was great, the shop was crowded, I loved the light, and the trees, and two whole floors of books. It would have been nice, however, if staff hadn’t responded to every question with a shrug and, “We’ve just opened,” or if they’d had a copy of the book I’d come to buy, or if Stuart hadn’t been convinced he was actually in a Chapters. I’m not really sure what I was expecting, but dancing elephants might have been involved, and they weren’t there.
They did have Rebecca’s book, however, right beside the dirty avocado book, much to our 
delight. Lots of other books from small presses too, and the children’s section was wonderful, and we explored food books with great enthusiasm. I ended up getting The Story of a Marriage by Andrew Sean Greer, and Wheels on the Go for a friend of ours who’s turning two. And afterwards we went out for a suburban type meal at a chain restaurant, which was tremendous fun in the land of parking lots and fountains.
April 14, 2009
On the new Drabble
Margaret Drabble’s new “semi-memoir” The Pattern in the Carpet: A Personal History With Jigsaws is out in Britain now. I’ve ordered a copy, as the North American edition isn’t out until the fall, and I’m not sure just how much time I’ll have for reading then. Right now, you can listen to her reading from it on The Guardian Podcast. In reference to the book, Drabble on occupation and overcoming depression: “We all tackle it in our own ways. I have long been a believer in the therapeutic powers of nature, and had faith that a good, long walk outdoors would always do me good. It might not cure me, but it would do me good.” She also claims to have quit writing fiction for fear of repeating herself, which is not so surprising if you examine her oeuvre, and how she has challenged the novel to be something different every time. Perhaps she thinks she’s exhausted the possibilities? But reviews of the new book have been favourable. I liked this from The Telegraph: “What a puzzle: Margaret Drabble’s memoir cum history of the jigsaw cum paean to her rather dull aunt shouldn’t really work. But somehow, in the end, it seduces.”
Incidentally, Drabble’s feud with sister A.S. Byatt is reported to have stemmed from a dispute surrounding– what else?– a tea set.
March 30, 2009
New life!
This weekend was marvelous, and yes, mostly because this little picture was taken yesterday across the road from my house. Spring has seen fit to descend upon us early, and I am so grateful. This weekend’s other delights just as splendid as the sunshine– ice cream eaten outside, dinner at Dessert Trends Bistro, lots of time for knitting, getting chores done, Midsomer Murders on DVD, rainy Sundays, rainy Sunday scrabble (with the power out!), brunch with friends, an afternoon tea party (with jammy scones), lots of reading. Lots of book buying too– we got the Free to Be… You and Me 35th Anniversary Edition (which came with a CD!) from Book City yesterday, ostensibly for the baby, but probably more for nostalgia (although the book is beautiful and looks totally up to date). Today’s brunch was located conveniently across the street from This Ain’t The Rosedale Library, and it just so happened I was in the market for The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery (upon the recommendation of Patricia Storms). Now I must go for a bubble bath, and read Lauren Groff’s new collection of short stories, Delicate Edible Birds. I am hoping to stay up past 9pm most nights this week, so I do foresee a bit more posting. But then again, you never can tell.
March 16, 2009
Catalogues
Like most people who’ve spent time working in libraries, I’ve got a thing about cataloguing. And it’s alpha-order for me as a rule, which you’d know if you’ve ever seen my own library, or my CD collection. I get a bit horrified when I hear about libraries ordered by size or colour, for example, which might be gorgeous to see, but how do you ever find anything? It also makes the books less books than decor, which is gross. The colour chaos of my own alphabetized spines are pretty mesmerizing anyway.
But today I had two overlapping experiences of cataloguing/classification that were quite remarkable. First, we went back to Good Egg in Kensington Market (because the weather was sunny and warm, and evidently most of the city thought the Market was a good destination.) My husband has grown very tired of having to venture in there over and over again to visit “my book”, Apples for Jam by Tessa Kiros. (It was actually her other book Falling Cloudberries that I originally coveted, but I decided Apples for Jam would be more practical, and it was almost just as beautiful.) I wasn’t about to just buy it, as it’s quite expensive, but having had enough of lingering in bookstores (he enjoys it less than I do, and it was the second one today), Stuart yanked the copy out of loving arms, and proceeded to the till. So now I own the book of dreams (this week), and can die now.
I’ve written about Good Egg before, how it’s a treasure trove. The books obviously selected with care, but the method of selection not always immediately obvious. That the children’s section contains Alligator Pie, The Carrot Seed, No I Will Not Ever Never Eat a Tomato, and sushi yuppie baby board books. In the window, Omnivore’s Dilemma (obvious) was on display beside Wetlands (for the avocado photo on the cover, I presume). Just the widest interpretation of “food books” imaginable, and I love it.
I love also Apples for Jam, just as much as I thought I would. And how brilliant that the whole book is organized, not by ingredients, or courses, or kinds of dishes, but by colour. Each chapter a colour, except the last two which are “multi-coloured” and”stripes”. So that strawberry sorbet is featured alongside tomato lasagne, beetroot gnocchi with baked ham and cheese bread pudding, white risotto in spinach broth and lemon rice pudding with roasted peaches. The whole book is a rainbow, and the order makes sense. I look forward to trying these recipes, and then the eating. Yum.
February 27, 2009
Gluttony
I am being inundated with marvelous books: what do I see but Lauren Groff with a new one out. And I picked up Swim at the post office tonight– it’s gorgeous. Then a stop at the library, where waiting for me were My Misspent Youth: Essays by Meghan Daum, Coraline (the graphic novel), and Pool-Hopping should be in any day now. Have also just eaten a whole bag of cheese curds but shhhh.
February 8, 2009
Reading in Pickle Colour
Today I finally picked up a copy of the marvelous I Can Read With My Eyes Shut, which might be the closest thing to a holy book those in my religion have– in rhyme no less. (“The more that you read,/ the more you will know./ The more that you learn,/ the more places you’ll go.”) And I like to think the first page (shown here) was a reference to Pickle Me This. I got the book at Circus Books and Music, which is a wonderful store with exceptional children’s books. We were out on the Danforth after a spectacular brunch at The Only Cafe, and then walked westward. At the Danforth Type Books, I bought I Kissed the Baby, but not for me, that one. (Oh no, it’s for the baby’s library.) Outside, we’re enjoying this crazy February Sunday Sun again and it’s wonderful.
