Just came across an interesting little piece in the New York Times, "My Hero, the Outlaw of Amherst," by Holland Cotter. It's just a reflection on what Emily Dickinson meant to the author, and a little about how she had been perceived / written about over the years and in different books. It was nice timing because earlier today I checked out from Widener Emily Dickinson: A Biography, by Connie Ann Kirk (2004), as a start to a semi-planned Dickinson investigation. I decided a while ago that I really know much too little about her, given what an important (canonically, at least) poet she is, and given the Amherst connection. I don't do well with a lot of poetry, but she is an Amherstian, Carlin Barton likes her, and she is (I think) somewhat connected to "my" family (the Porter-Phelps-Huntington clan of my honors thesis), so I should be more familiar with her even if I never become a fan. And even if I never get really into the poetry, the whole life & times bit seems potentially fascinating. I actually avoided her for a while in part because it was a little overwhelming actually in Amherst (she's everywhere), but now that just benefits as far as the nostalgia factor. The whole sexuality deal was also sort of a burn-out kind of roadblock for me, since it, too, was just SO constantly front and center in every aspect of scholastic life in the Valley, but I think I can handle it now :)
So, I am going to start with the Kirk biography because it is recent (and so hopefully not totally bound up in crazy "no, really, she was the epitome of proper Victorian womanhood" thing in the older books, but also past the 1970s, '80s, and '90s "let make her a poster girl for X" enthusiasm), and super skinny & easily available. I'll start digging in more after that. If I get bored, a Secret Life of Emily Dickinson by Jerome Charyn was published recently, which looks and sounds (based on the cover and title, I mean, and a super brief reference in the Cotter essay) totally frothy and ridiculous, so that might be good to gear me back up if the lit crit stuff gets too much. A new biography, Lives Like Loaded Guns: Emily Dickinson and Her Family's Feuds, by Lyndall Gordon, is coming out next month, and according to Cotter it's something of a soap opera, so that should be fun. Title is awesome, anyways!
Not sure how this all is going to play out, but I am looking forward to it...
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Yay!
For once I practiced some restraint - I got one of my regular emails from Barnes & Noble the other day, and in it was a 40% off coupon for Fever Dream, the latest in the Agent Pedergast "series" by Lincoln Child and Douglas Preston. At first I was sooo excited - since a neighbor gave Dad one (Cabinet of Curiosities) after his surgery, we have passed them all around the family and enjoyed the ridiculous exploits. They've actually been steadily declining in quality, but I am still excited whenever I see a new one has come out, especially if I have a flight or something ahead of me (they're perfect travel reading). So to get a brick-sized, brand-new hardcover for $17? Great! But I HELD OFF. Because it's still $17 that could be spent on something that would last more than a couple hours, and will be available at a library soon enough, or in mass market paperback. So, for once I actually did the fiscally responsible thing, whoo-hoo! We'll see if I break down and buy it before my trip to New York next month (yay! so excited! taking two vacation days, going to see R, S, and - hopefully - C.S.!), but I don't think so. Given that I seem to be able to read about two regular-to-large size novels per bus ride, the last thing I want to do is drag along multiple, heavy hardcovers. I'm thinking paperbacks, maybe something one or more of the girls might like, at least for the ride out, so I can leave them behind & not drag back dead weight, so to speak. Ha. I'm planning out my trip reading for 3-4 weeks from now rather than doing the actual work I have to do tonight - so much for being responsible!
Friday, May 14, 2010
Update
Was just reading an article on Walloons & Huguenots in New Netherland (for work! sometimes I actually work at work!) and came across a reference to a Francois La Cheir / La Seuer, which reminded me of Sieur de La Salle (I don't know; I'm tired, I guess it's just good my mind didn't go straight to food [canned baby peas!]), which reminded me of that novel La Salle
, by John Vernon, I started a while ago. Started, and never finished. I just realized I put it down maybe a quarter or a third of the way in and never started it again...at least I don't think I finished it. Regardless, it doesn't say much for the book that I either didn't read to the end or the story had such little impact on me that I can't remember if I read it to the end. All I really remember is a super annoying authorial voice, which was expressed as two different characters' voice. Not recommended, obv.
, by John Vernon, I started a while ago. Started, and never finished. I just realized I put it down maybe a quarter or a third of the way in and never started it again...at least I don't think I finished it. Regardless, it doesn't say much for the book that I either didn't read to the end or the story had such little impact on me that I can't remember if I read it to the end. All I really remember is a super annoying authorial voice, which was expressed as two different characters' voice. Not recommended, obv.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Best Women's Travel Writing of 2010
Went to a book reading at the Harvard Bookstore last night. Didn't really want to because I had gotten another one of the d*** headaches that have been plaguing me recently (part of the reason I posted Monday night, even though I didn't really have anything to say - not that I normally do! - was to try and distract myself from the nausea-inducing pain), around lunch time, and at 5:00 going home seemed a lot more appealing than killing two hours before the reading started at 7. But one of the speakers was a classmate (one I actually liked/respected) so I wanted to go & support - and I am wicked glad I did. C., if you are still reading this, you would have enjoyed it.
The classmate has a piece in the recently released Best Women's Travel Writing of 2010, and was reading from it along with another local author, and a local author who was reading someone else's piece (I wish they had explained that better; I was left wondering if she is friends with the author, and the author couldn't make it, or they just wanted three readers ands she was local? In any case, I guess she was in a previous edition of the anthology, but she stumbled horribly over the Italian phrases peppered throughout the story). I had initially been torn over whether it was bad ton to go to a reading but not buy the book, since I wanted to support my classmate, but I wasn't sure I wanted to drop $19 (the Harvard Bookstore price) on a book of essays I had never read. T., E., and R. all said it was perfectly acceptable not to buy the book, but now I kind of wish I had, because I enjoyed all three essays - but my classmate's most of all!
Again, C., you would have appreciated her's: it sounded just like her, funny, observant. "Classmate" wrote about her trip to Israel as a young woman with a group of New Age-rs (is that a phrase?), and the audience laughed throughout. As we saw in the essays workshopped in class, she has a nice way of observing other people keenly but also kindly, poking fun at their little foibles and tics, but in an affectionate way. And I think it helps maintain the tone of the work that she pokes just as much, if not more, fun at herself.
One thing that was interesting about the piece, and in fact all of them, was that the were mostly about the characters, and really weren't all that place-specific, given that these were stories from a travel-writing anthology. There was some concern with the whole experiencing-another-place, feeling-out-of-place thing, I guess, but it wasn't the focus, or at least it didn't seem to be (but it does seem like some of the readers didn't read the entire pieces, and jumped around, so I don't know. Someone actually commented during the question section, that the essays weren't really "about" the settings, which could have led to some interesting discussion, except then she (question-asker) turned it into asking if the authors felt like they were voyeurs, commenting on other cultures/people. Which in at least one case ("classmates") they were not (not Israelis, in that case, any ways), and not really in the others. The non-author reader correctly pointed out that to some extent any writer worth his or her salt (I'm wildly paraphrasing and elaborating here) has to be a voyeur, but I still think the opportunity was lost to comment that the strengths of the pieces were that they were not just travel guides. That said, maybe question-asker was expecting more "here are the glories of Jerusalem and Rome" and was disappointed.
AND, speaking of disappointed, fun audience-drama: a girl came in late and sat in the only seat left open, next to me, towards the back. She was taking notes on her laptop while people read. After the second reader, the middle-aged woman in front of her turned around and was like "it's really rude to do that [type] while people are trying to listen." Now. the girl was not being loud at all. She actually had a very quiet keypad. And the speakers had microphones in a small room. The other bookstore employees going about their jobs were much, much louder / more distracting (something I have noticed before, and would love to comment on). Anyhow, the third speaker starts, and the girl continues taking notes - I don't even think she was typing constantly, but I don't know, because I was sitting right next to her and yet had no problem listening to the reader. After it's over, the woman turns around in her seat - which is a folding chair set inches in front of the girl's - and goes "It is really RUDE of you to type like that. UNBELIEVABLY rude, when people are trying to listen" and then gets up and storms out - and, mind you, everyone else is still sitting -quietly, politely - in their seats, because we've just barely finished clapping, and there are going to be questions.
The classmate has a piece in the recently released Best Women's Travel Writing of 2010, and was reading from it along with another local author, and a local author who was reading someone else's piece (I wish they had explained that better; I was left wondering if she is friends with the author, and the author couldn't make it, or they just wanted three readers ands she was local? In any case, I guess she was in a previous edition of the anthology, but she stumbled horribly over the Italian phrases peppered throughout the story). I had initially been torn over whether it was bad ton to go to a reading but not buy the book, since I wanted to support my classmate, but I wasn't sure I wanted to drop $19 (the Harvard Bookstore price) on a book of essays I had never read. T., E., and R. all said it was perfectly acceptable not to buy the book, but now I kind of wish I had, because I enjoyed all three essays - but my classmate's most of all!
Again, C., you would have appreciated her's: it sounded just like her, funny, observant. "Classmate" wrote about her trip to Israel as a young woman with a group of New Age-rs (is that a phrase?), and the audience laughed throughout. As we saw in the essays workshopped in class, she has a nice way of observing other people keenly but also kindly, poking fun at their little foibles and tics, but in an affectionate way. And I think it helps maintain the tone of the work that she pokes just as much, if not more, fun at herself.
One thing that was interesting about the piece, and in fact all of them, was that the were mostly about the characters, and really weren't all that place-specific, given that these were stories from a travel-writing anthology. There was some concern with the whole experiencing-another-place, feeling-out-of-place thing, I guess, but it wasn't the focus, or at least it didn't seem to be (but it does seem like some of the readers didn't read the entire pieces, and jumped around, so I don't know. Someone actually commented during the question section, that the essays weren't really "about" the settings, which could have led to some interesting discussion, except then she (question-asker) turned it into asking if the authors felt like they were voyeurs, commenting on other cultures/people. Which in at least one case ("classmates") they were not (not Israelis, in that case, any ways), and not really in the others. The non-author reader correctly pointed out that to some extent any writer worth his or her salt (I'm wildly paraphrasing and elaborating here) has to be a voyeur, but I still think the opportunity was lost to comment that the strengths of the pieces were that they were not just travel guides. That said, maybe question-asker was expecting more "here are the glories of Jerusalem and Rome" and was disappointed.
AND, speaking of disappointed, fun audience-drama: a girl came in late and sat in the only seat left open, next to me, towards the back. She was taking notes on her laptop while people read. After the second reader, the middle-aged woman in front of her turned around and was like "it's really rude to do that [type] while people are trying to listen." Now. the girl was not being loud at all. She actually had a very quiet keypad. And the speakers had microphones in a small room. The other bookstore employees going about their jobs were much, much louder / more distracting (something I have noticed before, and would love to comment on). Anyhow, the third speaker starts, and the girl continues taking notes - I don't even think she was typing constantly, but I don't know, because I was sitting right next to her and yet had no problem listening to the reader. After it's over, the woman turns around in her seat - which is a folding chair set inches in front of the girl's - and goes "It is really RUDE of you to type like that. UNBELIEVABLY rude, when people are trying to listen" and then gets up and storms out - and, mind you, everyone else is still sitting -quietly, politely - in their seats, because we've just barely finished clapping, and there are going to be questions.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Knockin' a couple off the list
Friday was a decent day for the library and whittling down the "read at some point" list. Picked up Mr. Darcy's Daughters by Elizabeth Aston (recommended by Jen T.) And then, right by it on the shelf, was Haunting Bombay, by Shilpa Agarwal, which I had seen at some point (Barnes & Noble, maybe? The day I was wandering around Back Bay with T.?) and made a note of. Read Mr. Darcy's Daughters on the train and then at home (Mother's Day visit) Friday evening/night. I was prepared to like it, I wanted to like it, but...just didn't. It was totally predictable, pretty boring, and the characters, who were maybe supposed to be familiar, were simply dull. And it was too happy-ending-y. One of the things I love about Pride and Prejudice is that even though it has a VERY happy ending, it doesn't feel forced or unrealistic (not beyond the limits of suspended disbelief, anyhow).
Just read the first chapter and a half of Haunting Bombay a couple of hours ago, when I got home from work. Don't know about the story yet; it's one of those situations where there's a prologue and then the next chapter is 13 years later and I have no idea how it relates, so we'll see if the stories pull me in. But I already love the writing. It's lovely - confident and assured, but easy and unforced, nice use of metaphors and visual descriptions. I might even call it lyrical, if things keep going the way they start off, as pretentious-sounding as that is!
Okay, first period intermission is wrapping up - back to Game 5 of the Bruins-Flyers series. Flyers are kinda on fire tonight, but we're holding our own. The last few weeks of Boston hockey have just been f***ing phenomenal. Seriously cutting into my reading/blogging time, ha. I feel kinda bad about the fact that I want to bone (gonna miss you, L!) Milan Lucic, seeing as how he's a baby and all (I am assuming that's legal...not so sure if I could buy him a drink beforehand, though). But then I don't. So cute. In a gigantic way. And Recchi's married, so that's a no; I think he is, anyways, but he has been great these playoffs, I hope he's getting something from someone.
Just read the first chapter and a half of Haunting Bombay a couple of hours ago, when I got home from work. Don't know about the story yet; it's one of those situations where there's a prologue and then the next chapter is 13 years later and I have no idea how it relates, so we'll see if the stories pull me in. But I already love the writing. It's lovely - confident and assured, but easy and unforced, nice use of metaphors and visual descriptions. I might even call it lyrical, if things keep going the way they start off, as pretentious-sounding as that is!
Okay, first period intermission is wrapping up - back to Game 5 of the Bruins-Flyers series. Flyers are kinda on fire tonight, but we're holding our own. The last few weeks of Boston hockey have just been f***ing phenomenal. Seriously cutting into my reading/blogging time, ha. I feel kinda bad about the fact that I want to bone (gonna miss you, L!) Milan Lucic, seeing as how he's a baby and all (I am assuming that's legal...not so sure if I could buy him a drink beforehand, though). But then I don't. So cute. In a gigantic way. And Recchi's married, so that's a no; I think he is, anyways, but he has been great these playoffs, I hope he's getting something from someone.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Yay, Marla!
Firstly - finished the latest Inspector Lynley novel last night, will talk about it later (and then give it to Mom as a Mother's Day "gift" because I not the awesomest daughter ever - but I am going home a day early to keep her company, and running to the train after work, with just the briefest stop to pack, so I don't have time to buy something new, as planned!).
More importantly, there's a review by Laurel Thatcher Ulrich in the New York Times Sunday book review of Marla Miller's new book, Betsy Ross and the Making of America! I'm so excited; I've been waiting for her to get that project into print since I was in grad school. She was such a great teacher, and I loved The Needles Eye, so I'm as excited for her as I am excited to read it. Not sure how I feel about the review, though. On one hand, I think it's mostly positive, but Ulrich gets a little snippy towards the latter half, and suggests that Marla got carried away with the whole mystique of the thing. I will need to read the book for myself of course, and certainly I have no doubt that Marla was mad enthusiastic about (and maybe even somewhat affectionate towards) Ross, but I suspect she didn't go overboard. And some of it may be Ulrich, too. She totally has her own slant towards women's history / material culture, etc., and it's not always quite in synch with Marla's, so I wonder if this is just a case of the classic academic "it's not what *I* would have written, so I think you're wrong / I'm going to criticize you" situation. That said, I am super happy for Marla that the Times chose Ulrich to do the review, because just the name alone lends a certain gravitas to the review and, by extension, Betsy Ross. Hmm. Okay, just re-read the review. And there are some nice bits. But it's def a little snarky, and I am getting defensive, so before *I* start letting my own ax-grinding needs take over my assessment, I will stop :)
More importantly, there's a review by Laurel Thatcher Ulrich in the New York Times Sunday book review of Marla Miller's new book, Betsy Ross and the Making of America! I'm so excited; I've been waiting for her to get that project into print since I was in grad school. She was such a great teacher, and I loved The Needles Eye, so I'm as excited for her as I am excited to read it. Not sure how I feel about the review, though. On one hand, I think it's mostly positive, but Ulrich gets a little snippy towards the latter half, and suggests that Marla got carried away with the whole mystique of the thing. I will need to read the book for myself of course, and certainly I have no doubt that Marla was mad enthusiastic about (and maybe even somewhat affectionate towards) Ross, but I suspect she didn't go overboard. And some of it may be Ulrich, too. She totally has her own slant towards women's history / material culture, etc., and it's not always quite in synch with Marla's, so I wonder if this is just a case of the classic academic "it's not what *I* would have written, so I think you're wrong / I'm going to criticize you" situation. That said, I am super happy for Marla that the Times chose Ulrich to do the review, because just the name alone lends a certain gravitas to the review and, by extension, Betsy Ross. Hmm. Okay, just re-read the review. And there are some nice bits. But it's def a little snarky, and I am getting defensive, so before *I* start letting my own ax-grinding needs take over my assessment, I will stop :)
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