out of the ordinary

Not that I have "ordinary" novels to read, but I picked my latest read on quite a whim. I spoiled myself with "The Gargoyle," and so I chose something exactly the opposite: "The Jane Austen Book Club." Light, easy, quick. All of those it is, although I wouldn't recommend it to my mother. There are a few details included that I'm afraid would make her blush.

This is a nice novel so far, and I'm half through with it. It's not fantastic, but it's not bad. It's actually about what I thought it would be, but I was secretly hoping to be pleasantly surprised. A few women I work with asked what I was reading, and seemed to share the same view: the book is just OK. The inclusion of random French phrases is usually fine in a book if they are translated or explained, but there have been several parts I have not been able to fully appreciate simply because I have no idea what the sentence said. Luckily these are fairly sporadic. Just as sporadic but much happier are the sentences the author, Karen Joy Fowler, surprises me with. Every now and then, she'll actually throw in a rather profound statement. Unfortunately, I haven't been marking these to post. You'll just have to take my word for it.

The book claims New York Times bestsellerdom, and I suppose the concept is deserved. Jane Austen is a much-beloved author, and I was forced to read one or two in high school. I've always been more attached to the Bronte sisters, but I might read an Austen again soon. I think I have "Emma" and "Mansfield Park" with me here. I did the other day rearrange my bookcase. Of the three shelves (oh, hush, I have many more than that, but most are in storage) the top shelf is books I plan to read soonest. Middle shelf is books I'm on the fence about, but one might jump at me if the mood strikes. The lowest shelf contains books I've already read, recently or not, and those I know I won't make it around to for a good while, like "The Stand."

I should be able to finish my current selection pretty quickly, and then maybe I can revisit the two I began recently. Then maybe I can move on to the ones I began a while back and never finished. But, the process will be delayed if my coworker brings me her copy of "Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs" as promised. I need to add some non-fiction to my list.

I will say at first I wasn't sure if I would even make it through "The Jane Austen Book Club," but I forced myself to continue, and it's been enjoyable enough. You really don't have to know the Austen novels to appreciate it, because the author has included synopses of them as an appendix. And, as one of the book's cover blurbs says, the book might make a good introduction to them. I also found out that they actually made a movie of this book, though I can't exactly see how it would go, considering the book is full of flashbacks of the club's members. I can't imagine reading it and thinking it would make a good movie. Maybe I'll change my mind by the end.

i hope it's in this lifetime

So after making it 14 pages into a 185-page book, and maybe 29 pages into a 246-page book, I halted to devour "The Sirens of Titan," at 319 pages, followed by the 465 breathtaking pages of "The Gargoyle," by Andrew Davidson. I like that I'm expanding my reading to include male authors, because I feel I've relied too heavily on females for my favorites in the past. I can safely say "The Gargoyle" is approaching favoritism. Although I usually say that after reading anything good. Sometimes they fall in favor, like "The Witch of Portobello," which I believe was basically just OK, although I enjoyed reading it.

"The Gargoyle" was given to me during SPI, so I've been carrying the ARC back and forth along the subway, which is where most of the reading of it was done. However, I did just finish it at home. I honestly couldn't put this book down. I literally wanted to have to wait for the train a long time, because it meant I could read more. I would be in the middle of a suspenseful scene when I reached my stop and be thoroughly irritated that I couldn't walk and read at the same time, though I've seen it done by others. I even read a good portion of this book standing up on the subway, which is funny for two reasons. This is a decent-size book and not nearly as easy to handle standing up as a mass-market. Also, I can remember conversing with my fellow SPIers that we would never be able to read on the subway, let alone in the standing position. Now I can't imagine being on the subway without something to read, even when it's way too crowded and I have to turn pages and hold the book with one hand as the train sways and jolts and disturbs my balance.

I intend to return to "How to Talk About Books You Haven't Read," but I can't say I agree that reading books isn't always necessary. I am so glad I read "The Gargoyle." And I'm impressed that it's a debut novel. I'm sort of intrigued by Dante's "Inferno" now, as it is discussed much within the novel. I never had to read more than a bit or piece of it in school, so I'm sure I didn't catch all the relevance, but the author did a fine job of explaining everything as far as I could tell.

The beginning of the book is graphic and gruesome, describing the narrator's experience in a car accident in which he is burned nearly to death. He meets an intriguing stranger as he recovers in the hospital, and she reveals to him through fascinating stories how the two were lovers in a previous lifetime. She also incorporates other love stories that prove symbolic, and the chapters alternate between her bedside tales and the narrator's current-life burn recovery. Their love is rekindled, though he remains convinced that Marianne is just a schizophrenic sculptress. She claims to be doing penance by giving "hearts" to the gargoyles she sculpts, saving her last heart for her lover. The narrator is self-aware as the author of a memoir, so my only regret is that Marianne didn't show more appreciation for her lover's writing as her presented her with his written versions of her stories. She really couldn't spend her time on Earth in this particular life as much of a physical lover to the narrator, and we just have to accept that their love transcended one minuscule lifetime and is fully realized later, presumably in heaven.

I'm really overwhelmed by the number of books I want to read next. Perhaps I should suck it up and finish the two I've already started. There are a few that I'd like to buy ... but considering the small number that represents my bank balance and the sheer number of unread books on my shelf, I guess they can wait.

Pieces

I haven't finished "How to Talk About Books You Haven't Read," but I fully intend to, very soon. I didn't really think that was good subway reading, so I started a book my mom sent me called "An Episode of Sparrows," and I made it through the beginning, but I got distracted by Kurt Vonnegut. I'm not sure why, but I felt compelled to start "The Sirens of Titan" when I found a raggedy copy at The Strand, credited to Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. I guess he dropped the junior later, because this copy was printed in 1977. I suppose it qualifies as vintage, but I had to do a little repair work. The back cover of the mass-market paperback was gone, and the back page fell off. Considering it contained the last few paragraphs of the book, I figured I'd better tape it back on. Living in my purse, the back page wasn't exactly protected, so I have remedied the situation by putting a whole layer of clear mailing tape on the front and back covers. I basically ghetto-laminated it. It's pretty charming. On the new back cover is a little order form for KV boxed sets for about $8 each. I'm always tempted to mail those things in ... this one to Pinebrook, N.J. But how is it really that "handy" of a coupon if you have to send in the last paragraph of the book, too, which is on the back of it? Somebody didn't think that through very well.

Today, the anniversary of my second week at Barnes & Noble, I learned that mass-market paperbacks are so cheaply produced that the ones that don't sell aren't returned to the publisher. They're literally destroyed -- stripped of the cover and (hopefully/supposedly) recycled. Quite sad. However, the condition of my "Sirens" proves that they really aren't made to last, anyway. Also at work, though yesterday, I submitted a staff recommendation of "Love is a Mix Tape," even though I haven't read it. So, I better get on it. I do want to read it! I need to start a list of the books I want to read. Chuck Klosterman, David Sedaris, and a new one called "Daphne," which I knew before reading the subtitle was a mystery involving the author of "Rebecca." I know there are more -- I'll start keeping a good list. I also thought I might start keeping up with the books I see people reading on the subway, just out of curiosity. Today I saw a lady reading "The Bitch" by Deja King, and another reading a giant, red Catherine Coulter hardback.

Anyway, I am really digging "The Sirens of Titan." I don't usually read sci-fi, but somehow when it's Vonnegut, it's different. My roommate asked me what the book was about, and all I could do was mutter something about the future and space travel. Oh, well. At least there are no real aliens in it. The Martians are actually Earthlings who relocated to Mars. Then Mars gets blown up, of course, by Earth. It's fantastic. And there are some "aliens," I guess, but it's not alien invasion or creepy MIB monsters. I just finished reading the description of harmoniums, the life forms that live on Mercury, and it was beautiful. These thin, diamond-shaped organisms feed on the music their planet produces, and they use their bodies to create kaleidescope patterns. How awesome is that?

In other news, I have an informational interview at Random House next week, and I realized I'd have more room for music on my iPod if I gave in and converted everything to m4a. So I did, and I uploaded a crap-ton of Tori Amos tonight, along with REO Speedwagon, Korn and Jimmy Buffett.

between the sacred silence and sleep ...

My mind and my computer are both on overdrive today. I have been uploading more CDs to my iPod. It's nice to have a distraction from thinking about how I didn't get the job I really wanted this week. However, I did get hired at Barnes & Noble, which will be awesome even if it doesn't pay well.

So my iPod is almost perfect. It's only 8G, so I can't fit exactly everything I want, but I feel like the mix is quite representative of me. Following, a list of artists included:

ABBA
Alice in Chains
Amy Winehouse (2)
Audioslave
Beastie Boys
Beck (7)
Cake (4)
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
Dave Matthews Band (2)
David Bowie
David Cook
Deerhunter
DMX
The Dresden Dolls (3)
Duffy
The Eagles of Death Metal (2)
Elton John
Eminem (4)
En Vogue
Faith No More (2)
Fatboy Slim
Feist
Fiona Apple (3)
George Michael
Girl Talk (3)
The Glass Ocean
Jem
Journey
The Killers
KT Tunstall
Limp Bizkit
Live (2)
Madonna
Natalie Imbruglia
Outkast (2)
Peaches (3)
Pearl Jam
Pink Floyd
Q-Tip
Queens of the Stone Age
The Raconteurs
Red Hot Chili Peppers (2)
Sean Paul
She Wants Revenge
Stevie Wonder
Stone Temple Pilots
Sublime
System of a Down (5)
Tenacious D
The Toadies (2)
Tori Amos (3)
Violent Femmes
The White Stripes (2)

So there isn't nearly enough Tori Amos, White Stripes, Violent Femmes or STP, and Weezer and Jimmy Buffet got the shaft. But once the thing finishes syncing, I'll see how much room is left.

I did manage to finish "Eat, Pray, Love" the other day. Finally! And I got a bit of a start on "How to Talk About Books You Haven't Read." I realized Elizabeth Gilbert didn't stump me in the vocab department, really. She included a lot of foreign words but always provided an explanation. I realized this when I ran across the word "mendacity" [tendency to lie] in the new book. But I will make a note of the last sentence I starred: "[S]ome vital transformation is happening in my life, and this transformation needs time and room in order to finish its process undisturbed. ... I'm the cake that just came out of the oven, and it still needs some time to cool before it can be frosted. I don't want to cheat myself out of this precious time. I don't want to lose control of my life again."

There are quite a few intriguing passages in "How to Talk." Basically the book posits that you don't have to read books to know books. I believe that, because there are many books I know but haven't read. It's good to have some validation. The author, Pierre Bayard, is a professor who deals frequently with people who claim to have read Proust-type greats, but who are really only faking it. But they sort of have to, because any one person can consume only a tiny ("infinitesimal") fraction of all the books on earth.

"Our relation to books is a shadowy space haunted by the ghosts of memory, and the real value of books lies in their ability to conjure these specters."

" ... it is his love of books--of all books--that incites him to remain prudently on their periphery, for fear that too pronounced an interest in one of them might cause him to neglect the others."

While that sounds a bit ridiculous, it's actually true. As he explains, knowing a book is not about knowing the pages inside, it's about being able to place that book in its "location" among other books. You have to know the book culture, the relevance.

"To a cultivated or curious person, even the slightest glance at a book's title or cover calls up a series of images and impressions quick to coalesce into an initial opinion, facilitated by the whole set of books represented in the culture at large."

I love this book. The writer of the foreword admits he didn't really even need to read this book in order to talk about it, but of course, he's glad he did. And I think it will be helpful for me in a lot of ways, confirming how I already thought about books, but putting an explanation to it. It will be good for working in publishing, and at the bookstore, where I'll be starting soon. I have missed touching all the books. I know, I'm a freak.

multimedia

Today I'm playing with music. I'm putting CDs, those ancient relics, onto my iPod. I have an iPod? For shame! Thanks, Sam. But I was thinking about my favorite music, and got into a list-making mood. So two top-10 lists here, just for the hell of it, and in no particular order.

List #1 = Best CDs of All Time (Or, ones that I have had a continuous love affair with for many, many years)

1. Beastie Boys "Hello Nasty"
2. Faith No More "Angel Dust"
3. Dave Matthews Band "Crash"
4. Violent Femmes "Add It Up"
5. Fiona Apple "Tidal"
6. Live "The Distance to Here"
7. Toadies "Rubberneck"
8. Beck "Odelay"
9. FatBoy Slim "You've Come a Long Way, Baby"
10. System of a Down "System of a Down"

List #2 = Best CDs -- Runners Up (Or, ones that I hope to still be in love with for many, many years)

1. Girl Talk "Night Ripper"
2. The Killers "Hot Fuss"
3. Dresden Dolls "Yes, Virginia"
4. Duffy "Rockferry"
5. Amy Winehouse "Back to Black"
6. Queens of the Stone Age "Songs for the Deaf"
7. Eagles of Death Metal "Peace Love Death Metal"
8. The White Stripes "Elephant"
9. Outkast "Stankonia"
10. Jem "Finally Woken"

I admit to leaving out a lot of awesomeness, but when I limit myself to 10, I have to let Pearl Jam, Cake and Stone Temple Pilots step aside. Yes, even Tori, but she's a special case. I also admit the last few on the latter list were difficult to type there. Basically that means I haven't fallen in love with enough new music lately. Individual songs, sure -- but entire albums? That's much more difficult. I'm close to adding Gogol Bordello. Now that I have my iPod, perhaps it will be time to expand my horizons some more. More Raconteurs, more Justice, more Feist ... I'm sure someone super-important (and I don't mean The Beatles) is missing from these lists. It's time to spend some quality time in New Music Land.

nourishment

So it seems that my semi-daily blog has become a monthly. I aim to remedy that. The transition occurred because I came to New York and took on a chaotic lifestyle that has forced me to be "currently reading" "Eat, Pray, Love" for more than two months. Pathetic? Probably. Fixable? Definitely. I swear I am almost done with the book now, with a mere 60 pages to go. The long subway rides are helping a lot, though! But I am totally in love with the book. I can think of two people I will be buying copies for. Somebody told me the first third of this book (eat = Italy) was the best, but I'm loving the more philosophical portions, too. I've been inspired to make meditation a part of my life, especially because I feel like I need some time every day to really clear my head.

I like the way Ms. Gilbert thinks. I like the way she takes what could be an over-your-head philosophical memoir and spreads it out like she's icing a cake everybody wants a piece of. Here's a big lesson she's revealed on page 260:

Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings. And once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it, you must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into that happiness forever, to stay afloat on top of it. If you don't, you will leak away your innate contentment. It's easy enough to pray when you're in distress but continuing to pray even when your crisis has passed is like a sealing process, helping your soul hold tight to its good attainments.

I also like how the book is winding up. The author has come full circle, from self-indulgence to self-discovery and finally reaching a point of balance. Balance is what she is seeking in Bali, and yes, she makes me want to go see that place just as much as she made me want to see Italy. Every person I tell about this book wants to know how she managed to take a year off of life and travel the world. She says right in the beginning that she used the advance for the book to take the trip that inspired it. What an amazing thing. I know Liz had her troubles in life, but how fantastic to be able to reach "enlightenment" and share the story with those of us who can only dream of spending four months in culinary heaven followed by four months in deep meditation with no responsibilities ... and then four months to figure out how to apply it all to real life.

It has been nice to stretch out this book, though, because the author does manage to transport me to wherever she is at the time, even if that place is the inside of her mind. I'd like to find the inside of my head one of these days ... I'll be working on it.

laziness

Now that the Summer Publishing Institute is over, perhaps I can reflect here some on what I learned during the book portion of the program. I have to start by pointing out three phrases that kept popping up in lectures.

1. Balancing act
2. Sea change
3. Soup to nuts

Can the whole of book publishing be summed up in that triad of linguistics?

Unfortunately, the book-publishing lecturers didn't provide quite such quotable fodder as did the magazine lecturers. However, here are a few choice words.

"Don't listen to people who say what you want to do won't work."

"An editor is like a midwife."

"Do not put your cleverness in front of the communication."

"'Google' is at risk of becoming generic."

"Publishing is like a lifelong private university."

"Above the fold" can refer to content at the top of a Web site, too.

"[That one] is a slut of a publishing house."


Update: I've had this post (well, the beginning of a post) sitting on my computer for too long just being neglected. Is it laziness? Perhaps just distractions. Certainly the latter, plus the fact that my notes are now more than a thousand miles away, and I won't have them again until next week. I promise that before the end of this week, though, I'll post something good for "Eat, Pray, Love." Then maybe I can get back into my blogging routine. Something about a summer in New York really has had my mind in too many places to concentrate on inward reflection.