February 24, 2007
Injurious Reads
Everyone is right. Disgrace is wonderful. And Decca: The Letters of Jessica Mitford is impossible to take in morsels– I keep binging. Now reading Family Happiness by Laurie Colwin. Upcoming: The Library at Night.
I had a reading-related injury today when I read whilst brushing my teeth, paid too little attention to the latter activity, brushed too hard and and now my poor sweet gums are ailing. Reading is a dangerous business really. Sometimes holding the book makes my elbow ache.
I just came back from a splendid dinner at the beautiful new home of Natalie Bay whose fine company made the evening fly by. We’ve lived in all the same countries and so we spend most of our time talking about things no one else can stand to hear about. Which suits us well. And we’re off to Peterborough for the weekend, and the temperature calls for brass monkeys.
Further, Tide Simple Pleasures has rendered our apartment redolent with something slightly synthetic, but we like it. It smells better than we do. And, all real pleasure this week has been brought to us by crumpets.
February 13, 2007
Self Portrait
We’re tired at our house, which is what happens when we both spend the night having dreams in which we are struggling to sleep. And so for today, in lieu of coherence, Pickle Me This brings you me waiting for the tub to fill. Turban-headed because if my Japanese life taught me anything, it was that a bath sans shower is foul. And I like this image because it incorporates four of my favourite things: books, baths, big mugs of tea and Stuart (for it is his robe after all). Happy All The Time was a splish-splash delight.
Today in the post was a letter from Bronwyn, with whom I’ve defied Laurie Colwin’s quote from Happy All The Time: “Friendship is not possible between two women one of whom is very well dressed”. (That said woman is Bronwyn and not me should be revelatory to nobody). And her note contained the news that she has subscribed me to the London Review of Books, which is sort of like having pennies rain from the sky. I’d say life must be mostly good, with friends like that.
And I think Lucky Beans is one of the prettiest blogs I’ve ever seen.
February 11, 2007
Project
Whenever someone came to visit us in Nottingham, we took their picture in front of the Robin Hood Statue. This was not only because there wasn’t much to do in Nottingham, but it was quickly an important ritual. Some shots are quite posed: me and my guests standing at attention (hello Erin, Claz, Mike, and all of ye who attended my 24th birthday celebration). We’ve got Stuart’s and my sisters in town, and even a shot of my Mom (though she’s standing a bit east of the statue; her visit occurred before tradition was cemented). Some great dramatic shots: Bardley launching his bow alongside, Rebecca swooning at RH’s skirts, and Britt being nailed in the skull. All in all, an excellent photographic exhibition (in which, it must be noted, the sun is never shining) and I’ve decided to arrange and frame some sort of a display that will deck our walls forever more. At the time I was unaware that I was creating an historic record, but then I suppose one never is.
February 7, 2007
Voluble
“A literary portrait of marriage”, so says this profile of Calvin Trillin of About Alice (which I read in December). A different perspective on those streamlined classics. Margaret Atwood once again on arts funding cuts.
Just finishing No Longer at Ease.
My friend Sk8 proposed to her lovely boyfriend in the company of bison on Sunday, and he said yes. Hooray!
And finally, Sunday night I saw a penguin being eaten by a seal on David Attenborough, and I’ve been traumatized ever since.
February 4, 2007
Welcome back to Capeside
We’ve been a regular Angst Central over here at Pickle Me This during the past week. Existential, creative, ancestral, you name it. Every day an early episode of Dawson’s Creek, or a page from a Norma Klein book. And now it’s -28 degrees outside, and just as cold in our uninsulated bedroom and so we’re confined to the kitchen with no intention to go out of doors. Luckily I am reading a Kate Atkinson book, Emotionally Weird and so the world is a good place no matter what else. And Adventures of Huckleberry Finn was legend. I didn’t even see it coming. And we’ve had a nice weekend anyway, with dinner at Erin’s on Thursday, the lovely Erica G for supper Friday (and the spicy squash risotto was a success), and then brunch in Kensington occasioned by the marvelous luck of Kate in town, but all the company was wonderful and we both had an excellent time.
February 4, 2007
Art
Look up there on the shelf, on either side of Hello Kitty in a Kimono (an essential household item). The framed photos, of Blythe and the TTC by Erin Smith and the floating Harajuko girls by Natalie Bay.
I could paper my house with brilliant friends, and actually I intend to– all in good time. This is just the wonderful start.
January 14, 2007
Stu is fine
Zadie Smith’s article on writing fiction is gorgeous, but gut-wrenching (or at least I thought so). “To become better readers and writers we have to ask of each other a little bit more.” Here for what happens to a poem when it rhymes. Harper Lee attends a student performance of To Kill a Mockingbird. They like My Wedding Dress in this review.
We’ve had a wonderful weekend. Out to Thai Basil Friday night, and the food was delicious. Andrea and Chris (of that valuable internet resource www.chrislev.com) came for dinner last night, and we partook in Apples to Apples with great joy. We’ve done a lot of relaxing too, which is fine as Stuart has to get up early tomorrow morning to fly to Montreal for a meeting. (How exciting!)
Speaking of Stuart, his family has reported that they don’t get enough Stuart updates here at Pickle Me This. You see, they live faraway across the sea, and six days out of seven, this site is their only portal into their dear son’s world. (And on the seventh day, there is the telephone). Perhaps I should start a blog devoted to Stuart, like Mama Bloggers do with their wee ones. With photos of Stu’s latest antics, and anecdotes about the cute things he says, and photos of him in bathtubs or sandboxes with other kids his age. Not that he gets up to much of that so often. And I’m not sure that Stuart would be too impressed with so much attention. We may just have to stick with our periodic updates, but rest assured that he’s doing just fine.
January 9, 2007
Joy
Joy was our dinner tonight with Natalie Bay at Okonomi House, where we partook in okonomiyaki– a wonderful Nippon treat. Oishi desu! And now home, and since I worked all afternoon, now I get to have a bath and read Human Croquet— which is brilliant. And then tune in to CSI Miami, where somebody gets killed by a bookshelf! How exciting.
December 29, 2006
Happy
Congratulations to my dear friend Bronwyn and her much deserving Alex whose engagement we celebrated tonight. You are so lucky to have found each other and may your lives be so happy.
December 22, 2006
Special Topics etc.
I will be brief about Special Topics in Calamity Physics as so many reviews have said so much already (I’d link to more reviews, but my internet is dial-upily slow today, who knows why). As always, I would dismiss the opinion of all those who couldn’t get through it because this book’s ending was my favourite thing about it. I also would not accuse the novel of pretentiousness, but rather it is meant to be a critique of pretentiousness– not an entirely successful one, however. Similarly, the novels gestures toward an extreme bookishness, which a reader can’t quite buy as many of the books discussed within this one aren’t even actual books. Comparisons to Donna Tartt are made easily, but Pessl’s characters are not as interesting (in fact, Blue van Meer’s teenage peers are incredibly boring). Comparing anyone to Nabokov is a bit unfair. In typical American styly, the book is big as a brick and I’m not sure it has to be (though I’m hardly one to talk– my attempt at brevity is already failing). The inevitable however. The first third of this book is hardly a slog, but it’s annoying in parts. I think that fake bookishness might be worse than pretentious bookishness. The second third of the book is better, but far too focussed on the secret life of teenagers, which of course is boring. The third part of the book, however, is golden. It’s what I imagine that DaVinci book might be like for people who liked it. Murder mystery/thriller/race to the end/gutting twist etc. Marisha Pessl is trying to do far too much with her debut novel, but the upside of that is that I think most people could find something to like in this book.
Now rereading Jane Eyre, which I read last eleven years ago when I was in grade eleven English. “I hate English!” is written on the title page in my handwriting, but I do remember liking this book and I’m loving it now. Continuing with uTOpia, which actually has many more good essays than bad ones, and I’m learning a lot. I particularly like the way essays unconsciously counter and disagree with one another, which fits the complexity of the issues this book is addressing. Oh, and Curtis bought me a subscription to Vanity Fair, which I’ve been dreaming of for my whole life. He and Erin came over for dinner last night, and my risotto debut was a giant success. We all drank too much wine, and had inordinate amounts of good conversation.
