October 29, 2008
Links for Today
Sandra Martin’s full-length obituary of Constance Rooke was beautiful, and told the story of an extraordinary person who was an extraordinary reader. GG Nominee Rivka Galchen profiled in The Globe. I loved Lisa Moore’s review of Anne Enright’s Yesterday’s Weather. An interview with John Updike in The Guardian. Where are the woman with big ideas? Claire Cameron thinks they moved to Canada. And “Cut, Kill, Dig, Drill” –on Sarah Palin in the London Review of Books— is terrifying.
October 29, 2008
Upcoming
Well, though I was a little bit concerned, I’ve enjoyed John Updike’s Too Far to Go, though it served to underline my prejudice towards 1970s marriage as Ice Stormy as you like– how boring the suburbs really must have been, that so many unattractive people kept having sx with one another. Did that end with the ‘eighties? As I assume everyone settled down a bit with the advent of interlocking brick driveways and The Twenty Minute Workout. Plus the widespread use of microwaves.
So I’ll soon start reading Lucy Maud Montgomery: The Gift of Wings by Mary Henley Rubio. I can’t remember the last biography I read (and so it is fortunate that I keep track of all the books I read– note, I’ve not read a strict biography in the three years I’ve been keeping track, though I’ve read plenty of non-fiction, memoirs, biographical memoirs, but…) and so this will be a change of pace. Not so much thematically, however, as this has been a very Montgomery filled year– Anne Shirley turned 100 this year with all kinds of fanfare, and this very summer I reread both Anne of Green Gables and Emily of New Moon. But I continue to know very little about Montgomery’s life, particular her later life (except what I picked up from As Ever, Booky). So there is a lot to get to know.
October 27, 2008
Last Night
Last night, after a good ten years of meaning to get around to it, I finally had dinner at Country Style Hungarian Restaurant on Bloor Street. Partly to commemorate the 52nd anniversary of the Hungarian Revolution, of course, but also because I was hankering after an enormous plate of chicken paprikash and dumplings. Delicious. They serve schnitzel at that place that is bigger than your head. Also surprising: that we had to wait a good twenty minutes before we got a table. And we were the youngest people there, which is unusual for a downtown restaurant. It was full of the most normal middle-aged people I’d ever seen in my life– not a hipster in sight! I hope the decor continues to be never ever updated, because it was so perfect. The food was amazing, and since I want to try everything on the menu, we’ll be going back again.
October 26, 2008
Pickle Me This reads about werewolves
I would never have read Living With the Dead had I not heard Kelley Armstrong read as part of the Kama Reading Series last year. “New York Times Bestselling Author” though she is, Armstrong did stick out in this group of literary writers. The first story she read that night had been published in an anthology about Vampire birthdays– “Really,” she had to say, because no one in the audience would have believed in such a thing (in vampires or anthologies about vampire birthdays). We weren’t exactly her kind of crowd, but Kelly Armstrong wooed us. Self-deprecating, hysterically funny, and a wonderfully engaging reader, she was a star of the show that night, which was something for a woman who’d had a problem with her GPS and ended up in Mississauga instead of at the ROM. I was very glad she made it to the right place eventually.
So I wanted to read her latest book, from her “Women of the Otherworld” series, because Armstrong herself seemed terrific. But also because I never would have read it otherwise, and I am eternally curious about my own tastes and prejudices. I have an appreciation for popular fiction, but I avoid “genre” like the plague, which isn’t entirely fair, because I’ve never even been exposed to it.
It’s not strictly bookish, though, my aversion to genre and fantasy. I don’t even like The Princess Bride, which frustrates some people to no end. I think it all stems from when they made us watch The Neverending Story one rainy day in grade one, and after being traumatized by the horse sinking into the quicksand, I wanted nothing imaginary ever again. Which is strange considering how much I love fiction. The truest literary form I know, but I like fiction to recreate the world I live in and not make itself another one.
I never got into watching Buffy or Angel, until we moved to Japan. There was only one English channel on TV, so you could take it or leave it, but even when I left it, my husband didn’t and as our apartment was only one room, I couldn’t help overhearing. I couldn’t stop paying attention either, because Buffy and Angel were really good shows. Well, except for the vampire/fantasy stuff, which I tuned out to. Without those elements, these would have been perfect shows for me.
Which was the way I felt about reading Living With the Dead. That it was a fun, plot-driven novel, and I could even overlook the werewolves and half-demons when they weren’t integral to the story. The story of Robyn Peltier, PR rep. for an obnoxious celebutante for whose death she has just been framed. She enlists her friends– said werewolf and demon (though Robyn doesn’t know this about them)– for support as she tries to prove her innocence, and also tries to avoid a strange violent woman who is determined to stay on her trail. The woman wants something from her, but Robyn does not know what. For there is so much she has to discover– including the true identities of her friends, who she can trust, and who she can’t.
That I wasn’t in love with Living With the Dead isn’t the book’s fault, for I don’t suppose I was ever meant to be its ideal reader. For some people, I think, the demons and werewolves would be main attraction, but I still don’t get that. That I read the book all the way through and enjoyed it, however, is a credit to Armstrong’s excellent plot. So it’s not the book, it’s the genre. Could be that such books require significant investment? Living With the Dead— a pretty long novel at 372 pages, containing a folklore and vocabulary all of its own– demands more effort than I would typically allot to my pop-fic. You really have to want to get this stuff, the werewolf nitty-gritty, but unfortunately I just wasn’t that determined in the end.
October 26, 2008
Sneak Peeks
My short story “On a Picnic” will be appearing in The New Quarterly 108, which should be in stores in a week or two. In the meantime, check out the sneak peeks, featuring my story, as well as pieces by Cathy Stonehouse and Russell Smith.
October 26, 2008
Recommended
At the Descant blog, I’ve written about the perilous nature of book recommendations.
October 24, 2008
Killing the Keyboard
“Had the instant message come first, and the telephone conversation second, what a triumphant technological breakthrough the phone call would now seem! How proudly the papers would unveil it, how breathlessly the business pages and Wired magazine would celebrate the innovation. Real-time conversation! Actual voices! Effortless dial-up-and-speak communication! No need to wear your fingers out just to say hello, how are you! At least, the realm of the real voice; hear your sweetheart’s breathing! Listen to your best friend’s cough. Enjoy! You are there, really there, at last. Steve Jobs would hold a press conference, holding the phone up high, with amazement. And the next day the back page of the business pages would have one of those defiant, declarative full-page ads: “Real speech! Real Time! The Real You.” It would be on the cover of all the newsmagazines the following week. (And there would be contrarian op-ed pieces in the Times:”Why I Will Never Make a ‘Phone’ Call”; “The ‘Phone Call’– Is It Killing the Keyboard?”)” — Adam Gopnik, “Last Thanksgiving: Immensities” from Through the Children’s Gate: A Home in New York
October 23, 2008
Linky Places
The best thing lately is FontPark, in which you can create pictures out of kanji. With sound effects! So fun. And then Rebecca Rosenblum reading Weetzie Bat to the world. Sarah Liss on Sarah McLachlan, and how she got her heart broke. (People who read this article also read “Man accidentally shoots himself in head with crossbow”, incidentally.) Ivor Tossell’s bits on the internet that just won’t die. Ringing so true: “An Invective against birthday dinners”. Pickle Me This faves Atmospheric Disturbances, Skim and Nikolski are up for Governor General’s Literary Awards (for fiction, children’s literature, and translation, respectively). And finally, I am about a begin reading a paranormal suspense novel. So stayed tuned for details of that…
October 21, 2008
Slacks for Ella Funt
I am very excited, as this weekend I get to discover if my new sewing machine works. I picked it up at a yard sale about a month ago for $10, but have no clue how to use it, so am not sure if I wasted my money or not (credit crunch). However, a sewing savvy friend is going to give me lessons Saturday, and then after we’re going out to our local Hungarian to commemorate the 52nd anniversary of the Hungarian Revolution. An exciting Saturday is destined then, though I am still not sure what kind of useless cloth item it is I am going to (dare I dream?) create.
What I really want to do make is slacks for Ella Funt:
Ramona tugged and tugged at Ella Funt’s slacks, but no matter how hard she tugged she could not make them come up to the elephant’s waist, or to what she guessed was the elephant’s waist. Ella Funt’s bottom was too big, or the slacks were too small. At the same time, the front of the slacks seemed way too big. They bunched under Ella Funt’s paunch. Ramona scowled.
Mrs. Quimby considered Ella Funt and her slacks. “Well,” she said after a moment. Slacks for an elephant are very hard to make. I’m sure I couldn’t do it.”
Ramona could not scowl any harder. “I like to do hard things.”
