Mary Beard and SPQR

I'm still barely mid-way through Mary Beard's SPQR. It's definitely a door-stopper, and an absorbing read that does not compromise on its scholarship. Life however, made it difficult to sit down with a good door every day. Okay, I also have to admit that my habit of reading several books at a time makes it hard to focus on big books like SPQR.

Saw the feature on Mary Beard yesterday, on The Guardian. She seems to me the sort of professor that would intimidate me back in the university - outspoken and takes no bullshit. She's something of a celebrity academic now, although she didn't ease into the position. Rather, the story of how she came to be on TV is quite interesting:

“It was [then BBC executive] Janice Hadlow who convinced me, basically on a feminist ticket. I thought it would be a waste of time, and she said: ‘You’re one of the people who says that television documentaries are presented by craggy old men, and now I’m offering you a documentary and you don’t want to do it? Money where mouth is, dear.’”

I respect a woman who has enough self-awareness to realize she has to stand by her words. Also, a good reminder to all women who complain that media is dominated by the male voice - all the more reason we have to step up and speak up. Loudly. Mary Beard isn't your typical glamour queen in front of the TV, but this makes her all the more endearing to me. She's intelligent, and she knows her worth, and really, getting dressed up to impress people in front of the camera is just not something she's interested in. She gets her fair share of trolls - seems like the era of social media just means we get more nasty along the way. Yet, she stands up to them. Mary Beard is the kind of woman you dream your daughters grow up to be, if they are intelligent and hardworking enough.

I love that she calls out the bullshit. She's spent her life among the classics, and she knows the hypocrisy of it - that it's useful as a rhetoric for many, but the same people who decry the destruction of art and culture wouldn't pay two cents worth to preserve it:

“I think the other thing that has bothered me about Palmyra: in some ways, everybody’s got a right to speak, but there’s an awful lot of commentating about its importance and wonder by people who, until Isis took over, had no clue what it was and would probably, if asked to provide some government money to do archeological research, have said that it was a complete waste of money.”

Fan girl moment is over. Time to continue reading SPQR. The paperback is out, which makes me wonder if I should continue with my hardcover from the library, or just get a copy of the paperback to highlight and flag with Post Its.

Story about a Don Quixote of Literacy to Remind me of Good in the World

Sometimes the evil things people do in the world gets me down. I try not to be too affected by negativity, but it does get to me eventually. There was this quote I read once from Mister Rogers, about what his mother said to him when bad things happen. She told him to, "Look for the helpers. You'll always find someone helping."

This is partly why I try to collect tales of people just spreading goodness in the world, because they want to. Like this story I saw recently while I was sick: This man in Indonesia, Ridwan Sururi has been providing a modest library for children at a remote village called Serang in central Java. He brings them library books on horseback. A "Don Quixote of Literacy".

I like to imagine the smiles and laughters on the children 's faces when the horse library comes into the village, and as they pick out the book they get to borrow for three days. We who are more affluent have forgotten the simple joys of having just a book in hand, and is it any surprise when parents complain their children don't read anymore?

I would like to see more of this kind of goodness in the world.

The One Big Advantage of Kindle Today

I worked in a bookstore for a good nine years. As far as things go, I am still a supporter of the traditional brick and mortar bookstore, and of the physical book. It took me a while to try reading a book off the iPad, then the Kindle . For travels, the Kindle does offer some advantages.

But today I have to admit there's something very convincing about having ebooks - the speed of getting your favourite books. The library and bookstores over here have not acquired the latest titles in the Mary Russell series - The Murder of Mary Russell. I decided not to wait anymore. The suspense is too much. So I went the kindle-way for a copy.

Will be spending my weekend with a good ebook this weekend. Cheers to technology.

Releasing Books Into the Wild!

A friend posted this story about how a guy has been leaving stacks of books around New York City, with an email, and asking people to email him when they pick it up. In Bookcrossing term, it's apparently called a "wild release". This sets me wondering - I'm trying to declutter, and this seems like a great idea. Might be fun.

Carrie Brownstein at Wheeler Centre

I was in Melbourne early March for the Sleater-Kinney concerts at The Croxton, and for Madonna. I regret however that I did not learn of Carrie Brownstein's appearance at the Wheeler Centre when I was there. I would have loved to hear her speak. She is a good writer, very articulate, and definitely a writer with a powerful and distinctive voice. Thankfully, they made the talk available on youtube finally.

Hunger makes me a modern girl: Carrie Brownstein, All About Women 2016

Goodbye Harper Lee

2016 seems fraught with celebrity deaths. This was followed earlier with the news that Harper Lee had passed away at the age of 89. She lived to a good age, nevertheless, the news was sad.

Personally, To Kill a Mockingbird was one of the few books that I would claim truly helped defined my life. I read it was I was a teenager, when it was assigned to us - not part of the curriculum, but extra reading to help encourage and improve our reading habit. I was one of the few amongst my friends who finished the book, and loved it - and went on to tell everyone who had not read it the synopsis. The book resonated with my sense of what's important in life, back when I was just a teenager, and even now: kindness, courage, justice and most of all - doing the right thing even if everything and everyone seems to be against you. Who can forget this quote from Atticus Finch to his children:

"I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what

I did not pick up the supposed sequel - partly because of the controversy that it might not have been the author's wish to publish the book in the first place. There were also people who read it and claimed it was somewhat disappointing; I decided I wasn't going to ruin my memory of the original by reading the Go Set a Watchman. Sometimes, we need to know when to step back and walk away.

Someone once said to me that she wasn't a great writer because she only wrote one book in her entire life. I replied, "But most writers never managed to write one great book; she wrote only one, but it was so great."

Charles J. Shields, who wrote the biography on Harper Lee, Mockingbird, said this of Lee: "She just wanted to be comfortable in her own skin". As a tom-boy growing up, I understood this desire to just be left alone to be my own person, to be comfortable in my own skin. It was one of those revelations that warmed me to the author beyond the book.

Rest in Peace, Miss Lee, and thank you for that one great book.

BOOKS | Girl Waits with Gun

Some books, while good, have demands slow reading because they are so dense. Then there are the other types of books that are fun to read, and the writer knows how to pace the narrative so that there's a momentum that keeps you turning the pages - and before you know it, you're done and asking for more.

I was so glad to pick up Amy Stewart's Girl Waits with Gun. Amy Stewart took the characters of Constance Kopp and her sisters straight out of the newspapers from 1914-1915, and created this funny, historical pastiche of one of the early female Deputy Sheriff in the United States of America. All three Kopp sisters are funny caricatures, and their dynamics was the main part of the entertainment.

The story began when the Kopp sisters' trolley was knocked over by an automobile, owned by a rich man, Henry Kaufman, with shady connections. The Kopp sisters asked for compensation, and what followed was a series of events set out to intimidate them - bricks thrown through their windows, their house was also set on fire, and letters threatening to sell the youngest sister into white slavery. What I love about the story is how the sisters, while under considerable duress, never gave in to become the victims. We need more books abut women standing up for themselves, and looking out for each other.

This, and catching Deadpool at the cinema was a good conclusion to a Sunday.

I have my eyes out for Amy Stewart's other books. There's supposed to be a second Kopp Sisters titles out later this year in September. I hope it's as good, or even better than this one. Meanwhile, I am curious about The Drunken Botanist. How can I not be curious about a book about the plants behind our alcoholic beverages?

BOOKS | H is for Hawk

I've just finished reading Helen Macdonald's H is for Hawk. My reading journal tells me that I started the book May of last year, and I finished it in February of this year. It took me a while, through no fault of the book itself. Life, and my short attention span made it so.

The book isn't always an easy read - partly because it's a few narrative threads running through, and because it is essentially a book on grief, on memories. Helen Macdonald tells of her experience trying to raise a hunting goshawk, even as she narrates the story of author T.H. White's (the author of The Once and Future King, the re-telling of the young Arthur's training under Merlyn) own neurotic attempt to raise a goshawk. For T.H. White, the desire to raise a goshawk comes from some self-seated self-loathing and anxieties over his own repressed homosexuality, for Helen Macdonald, it came soon after the death of her beloved father.

The two narratives run side by side in a somewhat lopsided fashion. T.H. White's narrative makes him seem like an odd, silly little man, throwing himself towards danger his entire life to prove his own masculinity to himself. That is sad, really, because he never could master the goshawk, and in the end lost it, by sheer negligence. Meanwhile, Helen Macdonald's grief was palpable through out the book, and her goshawk feels feral, alien and emotionally unavailable (I can't believe I am using this term for a bird of prey). The human trying to master the goshawk, and both learning that they would never quite tame the creature that is violence and murder, and both wondering if perhaps there is something within themselves that has been found wanting by their goshawk.

In the end, grief resolves itself. Nothing changed. Macdonald's hands are full of scars from the goshawk, and then there are the other scars, unseen. Yet time does heal, and she moved on, as she ends the book with her passing the goshawk to a friend for a few month; the goshawk would be moulting soon, and the next time she sees the goshawk, it shall be with a new set of feathers, and she will be different. Perhaps, that is Macdonald's own process of moulting, of shedding old grief, and growing new ones.

PS: Mid-way through the book last night, I came across a mention of Olivia Laing's The Trip to Echo Spring in H is for Hawk. It was an odd sort of synchronicity, because I had just picked up Olivia Laing's To the River earlier from the library. Soon after I finished H is for Hawk, I picked up and read To the River, and there in the page listing the Illustrations, was this credit: Map of the River Ouse, by Helen Macdonald.

Sometimes, it seems like my books are talking to one another, and they lead us to their friends by whispering to us through the pages.

BOOKS | "The bad news is that I haven't written anything"

I finished reading Paul Kalanithi's When Breath Becomes Air this afternoon. Before this, some of my ex-colleagues were talking about the book, and I was curious when they seem to think they would cry buckets reading it, even before they had even started on the book. Why do they assume that? I wondered.

The author was a neurosurgeon who discovered he had lung cancer when he was in the 30s. Faced with the prospect of death, he began writing this book. He passed away before he could finish the book, and his wife, Lucy, ended it with an afterword.

It was a contemplative read. Kalanithi was a man of the arts and the sciences. I admired his insights, his questions, and how he truly believed in making meaning of his life's work.

I was driven less by achievement than by trying to understand, in earnest: What makes human life meaningful? I still felt literature provided the best account of the life of the mind, while neuroscience laid down the most elegant rules of the brain. Meaning, while a slippery concept, seemed inextricable from human relationships and moral values. 

Paul Kalanithi was truly an amazing man. A brilliant neurosurgeon, a kind man, and someone who could recite the poems of T.S. Eliot from memory. It should not have to take a medical emergency to force us to examine the meaning of our lives, yet most of the time, that's what is necessary. While reading the book, it does in a way lead me to consider how I am using the time in my own life, and those important questions. It was beautifully summed up in Lucy's afterword:

When Paul emailed his best friend in May 2013 to inform him that he had terminal cancer, he wrote, "The good news is I've already outlived two Brontes, Keats, and Stephen Crane. The bad news is that I haven't written anything." 

It is not just about how long you have lived - but what have you done. Time to start writing.

Now.

Jan Morris, on her writing

Jan Morris, in an interview:

I believe you aren’t fond of the term “travel writer” - what do you prefer? Are you more of a historian of place in books like Venice?
Yes, I hate being called a travel writer. I have written only one book about travel, concerning a journey across the Oman desert. I have written many books about place, which are nothing to do with movement, but many more about people and about history. In fact, though, they are one and all about the effects of everything upon me – my books amount to one enormously self-centred autobiographical exposure! So I prefer to be described as simply – a writer …

The Story of the Sistine Chapel

I have to admit my experience at the Sistine Chapel so many years ago wasn't the most profound. I was there with a friend, in a crowded chapel, the buzz of speeches in various languages all around me. It was tight, uncomfortable, and the Vatican security with their barrel-chest and tight suits kept growling, "No photo!" every time a flash went off.

I found this talk by art historian Elizabeth Lev, and she tells a wonderful tale of the stories in the murals, something that I wished I had a chance to experience when I was there so many years ago. In the setting that I viewed the Sistine Chapel, the story was underwhelming, which was a shame. I did come back from Rome later that year and read Irving Stone's The Agony and the Ecstasy, which tells the story in novel form of Michelangelo's creative life.

David Bowie, The Man Who Loved Books

Bowie took 400 books with him to Mexico to the shoot of 1976 film The Man Who To Earth. He told Mr Showbiz in 1997: "I was dead scared of leaving them in New York, because I was knocking around with some dodgy people and I didn't want them nicking any of my books."

That set a pattern of taking a travelling library on tour and Bowie said: "I had these cabinets – it was a travelling library – and they were rather like the boxes that amplifiers get packed up in. . . because of that period, I have an extraordinarily good collection of books."

{full article}

Bowie as Swinton, Swinton as Bowie

Emma Watson's Our Shared Shelf Bookclub

Like I mentioned a while back - since I first started blogging, social media has expanded beyond blogs to so many other platforms. It's hard to keep track of who's posting what, where, out there. I'm usually on Facebook more than Instagram, and only occasionally on Twitter.

I was on Twitter last night when I heard about Emma Watston's new feminist book club. (You go, girl). Our Shared Shelf (I love how Watson crowdsourced the naming of her bookclub on Twitter) is happening right now  on Goodreads (yet another social media platform. Thankfully I am more active on Goodreads than Twitter)

I was curious about Gloria Steinem's My Life on the Road. I can't recall who recommended it - but it was from a list of recommended titles that I came across, which make me take notice, and make a mental note to check it out. One day. So it wasn't that difficult to bump it higher up on To Be Read list (I'm still between Laurie R. King's The Pirate King, and Mary Beard's SPQR - both compelling reads.) So, I will try to get Gloria Steinem as soon as I can, so that I might be able to participate in Watson's book club discussion. (I am such a geek)

 2016 looks like a good year for books!

2016 | Living this year with greater awareness and intention

First blog post for 2016. Yay, me. I've noticed the past year or so that I've been less inclined to blog. Not that this means my internet posting has ceased. Merely that I have switched platform - I am a daily Facebook poster, sometimes verging on Facebook spammer. I'm not sure how many of my Facebook friends actually care that I really, truly, deeply adore Sleater-Kinney. Thanks to Facebook though, they know.

It seems to me that it takes a lot more thought to actually have something sensible and intelligent - or readable to say on blogs. It used to be that blogs were the main channel for people to share. Then the last few years we have tumblr, Facebook, twitter, Instagram (fill in the blanks on all other social media platforms) With the different platforms available, it just seems easier to post a picture, say something witty (or not) in less than 150 characters, and feel like I've shared something with the world. Even if that's just a picture of my lunch.

Since this is the new year, I am supposed to set an intention to guide my way forward.

It is my intention to live more intentionally, and with greater awareness of how I spend my time. This means more meaningful interaction, even on Facebook or other social media. I would like to blog more this year, and spend more time and thought on what I post - be a true content creator, rather than just content curator.

I am also in the middle of cleaning out my wardrobe - spring cleaning if you want to call it that. It's an endeavour that makes me marvel how much money I spent buying things. How did I end up with so many CDs, clothes and books? Oh, the books. And how so many of them unfortunately, are not yet read.

I'm culling the collection gradually. It really reminds me of the proverbial bird that is trying to wear down a mountain by brushing the mountain with a piece of silk every year. But, one must start, and keep going.

So, to continue with the theme of greater intention and awareness, I have started a record of my daily expenditure. If anything, this record of daily expenditure makes me realise just how much I spend on food and grocery every day. This probably explains why it's so hard to save money these days.

Most of all, I am watching my expenditure. There will be less buying of stuff this year, if I can help it. Less clothes, less books - as I try to get rid of the clutter. I feel weighted down in life lately. Perhaps it would do me good to let go more.

Books afterall, are available through the library.

Ending the reading year

I started the reading year with Rebecca Solnit, and I ended the year with Rebecca Solnit. As patterns go, it's a nice bookend. I'm picking up where I left off on the Mary Russell series. Life is too short for bad books, and if we can find something that keeps us comfortable and happy, sometimes it is good to keep them around. The Mary Russell series has always been a source of comfort for me.

I was reading Pirate King at a local coffee shop yesterday, and I smiled when I came across this passage, where Mary Russell had ran out of reading materials, and was suddenly offered a licentious novel, The Sheikh, favoured by many of the ladies on the ship. The way she described it reminded me of how I felt about 50 Shades of Grey:

The novel, made into a moving picture that put Valentino onto the world's lips (in more ways than one), had been written during the War by a woman whose husband was at the Front. Whose husband had clearly been at the Front for a long, long time.

It was appalling. Not so much the writing itself (which can was merely the lower end of mediocrity) nor the raw pornography (which it was), but its blatant message that an independent and high-spirited young woman would be far happier if she were just slapped around a bit by a caring sadist. I read every word about fiery young Diana Mayo and her encounter with, abduction by, and ultimate submission to Sheik Ahmed ben Hassen. Then I went to wash my hands, and took the novel back to Mrs Hatley, with a fervent plea that she not let any of the girls read it. She turned pink and said of course not. But had I enjoyed it?

Remembering Terry Pratchett

We lost Sir Terry Pratchett earlier this year. It's a sad, sad thing, but we will always have his books - and that is his most lasting legacy. Meanwhile, here's Sir Terry Pratchett remembered by his daughter, Rhianna Pratchett, in The Observer:

"He always said that he was most like the brusque Commander Vimes, raging against injustice. But he was a little like Death too; always loved a good curry and Pratchetts have cats like other people have bathrooms."

Sleater-Kinney - Market Hotel, New York 2015

Oh my. I think somebody uploaded the entire Sleater-Kinney show at Market Hotel. I gasp, and share. Well, I think I'm only putting it on the blog so I can find it again in future. Still - totally adore the "Whorin' for Corin" shirt that Carrie was wearing. Like she said, her guitar was covering part of it, so it just says "Whorin'". It's the thought that counts, hun.

Hmm. Apparently Carrie kept one guitar throughout the show. Usually she change guitars intermittently.

Records for 2015

Books Read for 2015

1. Encyclopedia of Trouble and Spaciousness • Rebecca Solnit
2. The Outsider • Albert Camus
   Translated from the French by Sandra Smith
3. The Art of Stillness: Adventures in Going Nowhere • Pico Iyer
4. Station Eleven: A Novel • Emily St. John Mandel
5. Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith • Anne Lamott
6. Travels with Herodotus • Ryszard Kapuscinski
   translated from the Polish by Klara Glowczewska
7. Wild: A Journey from Lost to Found • Cheryl Strayed
8. A Dance with Dragons • George R. R. Martin
9. Lazarus: Family - Volume 1 • Greg Rucka, Michael Lark & Santiago Arcas
10. Lazarus: Lift - Volume 2 • Greg Rucka, Michael Lark, & Santiago Arcas
11. Lazarus: Conclave - Volume 3 • Greg Rucka, Michael Lark, & Santiago Arcas
12. Bluets • Maggie Nelson
13. Adaptation • Malinda Lo
14. Inheritance • Malinda Lo
15. Daughter of Smoke & Bone • Laini Taylor
16. Days of Blood & Starlight • Laini Taylor
17. Dreams of Gods & Monsters • Laini Taylor
18. My Fight/Your Fight • Ronda Rousey
19. The Shepherd's Crown • Terry Pratchett
20. Annihilation • Jeff VanderMeer
21. Equal Rites • Terry Pratchett
22. Wind/Pinball: Two Novels • Haruki Murakami
23. Browsings: A Year of Reading, Collecting, and Living with Books • Michael Dirda
24. The Inheritance Trilogy • N. K. Jemisin
25. The Killing Moon: Book One of the Dreamblood • N. K. Jemisin
26. Fail Fail Again Fail Better • Pema Chodron
27. The Shadowed Sun: Book Two of the Dreamblood • N. K. Jemisin
28. M Train • Patti Smith
29. Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl • Carrie Brownstein
30. Slouching Towards Bethlehem: Essays • Joan Didion
31. Men Explain Things to Me • Rebecca Solnit

100 Books To Read 2015