August 3, 2007
Summer books
Will quite shortly be now-rereading The Summer Book by Tove Janssen, which I bought in 2003 when I lived in England, solely because the edition Sort Of Books brought out then was absolutely gorgeous. The bright blue of the photograph on the cover, the photos on the endpages, even the typeface was perfect. I do remember reading this novel in the manky bathtub of my ramshackle terrace house on Silverdale Road, but I regret that I’ve forgotten everything within it. Surely there is more to this book than its cover, and I am excited to rediscover just that. I also think it will make a fine companion to my recently-completed To the Lighthouse. And once that’s done, just to flip the solstice 180 degrees, I am going to read Vendela Vida’s Let the Northern Lights Erase Your Name.
I think it’s best to plan ahead.
July 26, 2007
Like life itself
In literary happenings, Booklust passes on word of the newDouglas Coupland Exhibit of Penguin Collages– I won’t miss it. And summer is truly here, because out comes The Atlantic Fiction Issue. Now just-finishing April in Paris— review up tomorrow. Also stay tuned for an Animal Vegetable Miracle update. And indeed, Laurie Colwin’s A Big Storm Knocked It Over cured everything what ailed me. “It was magical… that unexpected, magnificent, beautiful release, like the unexpected joy that swept you away, like life itself.”
July 11, 2007
Wholly visible and reliable
What is it when pathetic fallacy functions in reading? Because at the moment I feel like I’m reading Salt Rain in just the right climate: “the raindrops making an endless circuit from earth to clouds, the same water falling again and again for decades.” 80% humidity is probably as close to the Australian rain forest as Toronto ever gets. It’s a funny thing.
So far Salt Rain is a pretty good story, but then you’ve got to feel sorry for any book that has to follow Henry James. Such an unfair pitting, but the narrative voice feels so slight in comparison. Which came to mind last night when I was reading James Wood’s review of Edward P. Jones’ Aunt Hagar’s Children in The London Review of Books. Writes Wood:
These days, God-like authorial omniscience is permitted only if God is a sweet ghost, the kind with whom the residents can peaceably coexist. This is especially true in most contemporary short stories, where the narrator may be wildly unreliable (first person) or reliably invisible (third person), but not wholly visible and reliable. Few younger contemporary writers risk the kind of biblical interference that Muriel Spark hazards, or that V.S. Naipaul practices in A House for Mr. Biswas, in which the narrative eschatologically leaps ahead to inform us of how the characters will end their lives or casually blinks away years at a time: ‘In all, Mr. Biswas lived six years at The Chase, years so squashed by their own boredom and futility that they could be comprehended in one glance.’ Comprehended by whom?
And now, post-James, I am craving omniscience. And have set myself a little challenge: the next story I begin will have a narrator who is not a sweet ghost at all.
(Update: Oh, yes, I looked it up. “eschatology [esk‐ă‐tol‐ŏji], the theological study or artistic representation of the end of the world.”)
July 2, 2007
When the sun shines
We went down to the new HTO Park down at the bottom of Spadina today, and loved it. Sitting underneath one of the fabulous yellow umbrellas, feet in the sand, reading away (Stuart is now reading Before I Wake and is stuck to it as much as I was). Boats were going by, planes overhead, and the expressway out behind us, and so clearly were we in the world– but what a perfect little part of it.
Such has been the whole weekend, really.
June 29, 2007
I wish it were a rhododendron
I write you from the weekend, which for me starts today (Friday) and, for most of us, lasts until Monday eve. And this has been my first day off since I started work, and I’ve spent it reading, and finishing a story I’m really pleased with. Having the kind of day I learned to have last winter when I wrote from nine to five, and what a treasure. I still think that now, even if these days only come along once in a blue moon. And this weekend is positively bursting with friends, which is glorious. We’re booked up every day, and even doubled booked some, and forces have conspired to make me happier and more assured than I’ve been in absolutely ages. The good times indeed. I’ve got a cup of tea beside me now.
June 27, 2007
ReReading
Just days until the Second Great Summer Rereading Project begins, though the rules are slightly different this year. Last year I (almost) exclusively reread from June to August, and found the experience invaluable. If you read as quickly (and therefore sometimes as thoughtlessly) as I tend to, revisiting a book is essential to truly having grasped it. It’s also wonderful to judge your own progress by how a book has changed for you, and it’s fun to find lost objects in the pages (last year I found many cryptic phrases by my own hand, and also a two dollar bill). This year I felt like one month would do for rereading for me, as I had managed to get to so many books last year. But then I realized I’ve got too many new novels to be read, and if I stopped, I might never catch back up again. And so the project will go on for two months, alternating new reads and rereads. I look forward to books I’ve not read in ages, some of the ones which I reread every year, rediscovering forgotten things, and making all kinds of connections. First up is Portrait of a Lady. I am feeling brave.
June 10, 2007
Lettuce
Last night was a very exciting one in the land of Pickle, as our vegetable garden has yielded its first crop. The tomatoes aren’t ready yet, and so our salad was a scant one, only one of lettuce, but never, ever, has lettuce tasted so good.
May 19, 2007
It's all summers
My beloved Bronwyn is getting married two weeks from today, and I am so thrilled we’re going to be there. Since we met six years ago, Bronwyn’s and my lives have been much entwined: we moved to England at the same time, fell in love with Northern boys, she even came to stay with us in Japan for two weeks. And even now, when our lives are quite divergent (I moved back to Toronto, whereas she is living a sweet London fairy tale), we’ve remained so close. She was there on my wedding day, and I am honoured that I’ll be there for hers. That we’ll share in wifedom, which seemed a million miles away, or even impossible, back when we met. And we look forward to our parallels continuing; she emailed me a few weeks back and said, “When I think about it I think of sunshine, which can only be a good thing. Looking forward, it’s all summers!” I imagine the future the very same, and I am so excited for it.
I am going to be doing a reading at Bronwyn’s wedding, however, and I went a bit insane trying to locate something good. When thumbing through my own library turned up nothing, I turned to the internet. Who would have thought? The “Unique Wedding Readings” on Google turned up nothing spectac (unless Kahil Gabran is your bag). I wanted to find something lovely and fitting, and I eventually did (but it’s a secret for now). I really wanted something from Carol Shields, because really who knows more about love and marriage than she did? But nothing was quite right for a wedding ceremony. Still, however, some of what I did find needs to be shared nonetheless. Stay tuned then.
April 29, 2007
Summer by your side
So far, it’s been weekend most glorious.
Saturday Stuart and I went to afternoon tea at The Four Seasons, which was my treat for finishing school. We tried to savour everything for at least four bites, the scones were oishi, perfect jam, and we absolutely fell in love with pear tree green tea. Nothing short of delightful.
We were thrilled to accept an BBQ invitation last night by the Brown-Smiths, and we enjoyed our city rooftop summer night, until it got cold and we had to go in. It’s only April after all. But even indoors, the night continued in hilarity. Carolyn and Steve are wonderful company, and our glasses kept magically refilling themselves.
Today was fun in Trinity Bellwoods with Curtis. Tealish refills, Type Books birthday party (we had a piece of a cake shaped like a typewriter), fish and chips, and a fabulous game of frisbee.
Later I wandered lonely as a cloud.
And as if you needed any more proof…
All we need now are leaves on the trees– but then shade is overrated.
