None But Eagles

Could Look Him In The Face

  • 31st
  • December
  • 2012

Some unimportant bullet points about my 2012:

Some things I’m looking forward to in 2013:
  • 22nd
  • December
  • 2012
(Look out, minor spoilers below!) I had a really fun time reading this book and pretty much raced through it. It reminds me a lot of a Scarlett Thomas novel, although it doesn’t embrace actual magical things or more difficult-to-grasp concepts like she often does, and it was written to be more accessible (e.g. than The End of Mr. Y) and less explain-y (e.g. than PopCo). But it had a similar upbeat, optimistic, friendly, fun, engaging tone — brightly coloured and clearly delineated, if you can say such a thing about a novel. It loves old things and it loves new things and wants you to love it all too. The book’s final message, or what I took to be its final message, was disappointing — have friends, make connections, and take advantage of them to help you solve mysteries and save the world. It’s a cute message but so much — I don’t know, smaller, less significant than it was building up to be? I mean, maybe it’s a revelation of truth for some people, and it worked with the quest structure of the story, but it didn’t work for me. It’s such a common thing in popular culture to find a family in your friends and whatever but I don’t know, I feel kind of weird in a world that suggests all your friends must be smart and talented and able to contribute toward your personal goals in life, like they’re some sort of curated collection of beings. Which is all I’m going to say about that because I know there are people who actually don’t have family and so friends truly are everything to them, and obviously you can pick your friends but not your family and there are some truly horrible people out there who are someone’s family, and seriously, bless them. So yeah. And it was really weird to read about a cute, quirky, smart woman named Kat who lives in San Francisco because that describes my sister-in-law perfectly! Very weird. (My Goodreads review of Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore by Robin Sloan)

(Look out, minor spoilers below!)

I had a really fun time reading this book and pretty much raced through it. It reminds me a lot of a Scarlett Thomas novel, although it doesn’t embrace actual magical things or more difficult-to-grasp concepts like she often does, and it was written to be more accessible (e.g. than The End of Mr. Y) and less explain-y (e.g. than PopCo). But it had a similar upbeat, optimistic, friendly, fun, engaging tone — brightly coloured and clearly delineated, if you can say such a thing about a novel. It loves old things and it loves new things and wants you to love it all too.

The book’s final message, or what I took to be its final message, was disappointing — have friends, make connections, and take advantage of them to help you solve mysteries and save the world. It’s a cute message but so much — I don’t know, smaller, less significant than it was building up to be? I mean, maybe it’s a revelation of truth for some people, and it worked with the quest structure of the story, but it didn’t work for me. It’s such a common thing in popular culture to find a family in your friends and whatever but I don’t know, I feel kind of weird in a world that suggests all your friends must be smart and talented and able to contribute toward your personal goals in life, like they’re some sort of curated collection of beings. Which is all I’m going to say about that because I know there are people who actually don’t have family and so friends truly are everything to them, and obviously you can pick your friends but not your family and there are some truly horrible people out there who are someone’s family, and seriously, bless them. So yeah.

And it was really weird to read about a cute, quirky, smart woman named Kat who lives in San Francisco because that describes my sister-in-law perfectly! Very weird.

(My Goodreads review of Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore by Robin Sloan)

  • 21st
  • December
  • 2012

erasingist:

Watch Laura, me, and a Kentucky flea-market ukulele perform a musical tribute to the amazing French name for eggnog: lait de poule. (Which means chicken milk.)

Music & lyrics by Scott! Click through to YouTube for the lyrics, so you can sing (and drink) along.

  • 10th
  • December
  • 2012

Two years ago, I would have died a slow painful death before agreeing to sing by myself on the internet (see also here, here, here, and here). I still hit the right notes as frequently as I ever did, which is not all the time, and my singing voice still sounds as good to my ears as my speaking voice does, which is not at all, but something has changed. I have no illusions but I also have much less fear than I used to. I’m more aware of how much I enjoy singing than I used to be, and I’m fed up with being shy and embarrassed about it. Some people have none of these inhibitions, some people never grow out of them, and I’m just starting to grow out of them.

I read this because Scott loved it when he read it many years ago and because Hitchens mentioned it in Mortality and because it was short and light enough to start and finish on a Sunday afternoon after finishing Tristram Shandy. Lovely and thought-provoking, but somehow a little slight, I thought. Which isn’t necessarily bad. I kept waiting for something that went over my head, that would push it into deeper territory, but it stayed accessible, which isn’t usually disappointing but kind of was here. It kept reminding me of D. M. Thomas’s The White Hotel, although I can’t put my finger on why. More obviously, it reminded me of Italo Calvino, which in turn reminded me that I should read more of his books. And that it would be lovely to understand more about science, but novels are so much more interesting. (My Goodreads review of Einstein’s Dreams by Alan Lightman)

I read this because Scott loved it when he read it many years ago and because Hitchens mentioned it in Mortality and because it was short and light enough to start and finish on a Sunday afternoon after finishing Tristram Shandy. Lovely and thought-provoking, but somehow a little slight, I thought. Which isn’t necessarily bad. I kept waiting for something that went over my head, that would push it into deeper territory, but it stayed accessible, which isn’t usually disappointing but kind of was here. It kept reminding me of D. M. Thomas’s The White Hotel, although I can’t put my finger on why. More obviously, it reminded me of Italo Calvino, which in turn reminded me that I should read more of his books. And that it would be lovely to understand more about science, but novels are so much more interesting.

(My Goodreads review of Einstein’s Dreams by Alan Lightman)

  • 6th
  • December
  • 2012
I felt like I was reading this book for a really long time, but actually it took me two months, only because I interrupted this book with a lot of shorter, easier books. That makes me sound like a smug fast-reading jerk, which I might be. It took me longer than usual because I don’t find Sterne easy to read, I think because of all the dashes, although usually I love dashes all over the place and use them frequently myself. Usually I am all over this kind of thing, you know — Richardson, Fielding, all those bros, but Sterne’s prose kind of resists my brain sometimes, or vice versa. It’s the kind of thing I fully expect to fall head over heels for but I don’t. I felt the same way with A Sentimental Journey. I think Sterne had a lot of great things to say, was super funny and sharp but super sincere and sweet at the same time, but damn I just don’t find him readable! Maybe when I am older. I finally pushed myself to finish it because I was eager to watch Michael Winterbottom’s film Tristram Shandy: A Cock & Bull Story. We recently finished watching his series The Trip, also with Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon. I really enjoyed that series and am excited to see their treatment of this book. I started off reading the paper book but moved to ebook because it was lighter to take in my bag (especially when I was reading something else at the same time but felt guilty leaving Tristram at home) but also because the dashes weren’t so huge in the ebook (—— vs —) which actually made a difference. Longer dashes = more stuttery reading, I guess? I guess. There are so many hilarious bits in this book, but they aren’t pithy one-liners — most of the jokes stretch over a number of paragraphs, so that I ended up highlighting these swathes of pages for one joke or impressive insight. Which makes it a rewarding book to read but difficult to quote. I confess to speed-reading through parts of it (especially near the end) and I probably missed a lot, mainly because I didn’t have the patience to understand it fully. Tristram went over my head a lot of the time and although there were parts where I did take the extra time to re-read and consult the footnotes and look up a word, and all that extra work actually paid off, I’m not used to reading that way unless I’m writing an essay so screw that noise. And there were so many threads that just fell away never to be found again. I would love to be an expert on Tristram but he’s joining a big group of books I would love to be an expert on, so get in line, Tristram. One day, when I am older, there will be no books left and I’ll come back to this one and learn it inside out. (My Goodreads review of Tristram Shandy by Laurence Sterne)

I felt like I was reading this book for a really long time, but actually it took me two months, only because I interrupted this book with a lot of shorter, easier books. That makes me sound like a smug fast-reading jerk, which I might be. It took me longer than usual because I don’t find Sterne easy to read, I think because of all the dashes, although usually I love dashes all over the place and use them frequently myself. Usually I am all over this kind of thing, you know — Richardson, Fielding, all those bros, but Sterne’s prose kind of resists my brain sometimes, or vice versa. It’s the kind of thing I fully expect to fall head over heels for but I don’t. I felt the same way with A Sentimental Journey. I think Sterne had a lot of great things to say, was super funny and sharp but super sincere and sweet at the same time, but damn I just don’t find him readable! Maybe when I am older.

I finally pushed myself to finish it because I was eager to watch Michael Winterbottom’s film Tristram Shandy: A Cock & Bull Story. We recently finished watching his series The Trip, also with Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon. I really enjoyed that series and am excited to see their treatment of this book.

I started off reading the paper book but moved to ebook because it was lighter to take in my bag (especially when I was reading something else at the same time but felt guilty leaving Tristram at home) but also because the dashes weren’t so huge in the ebook (—— vs —) which actually made a difference. Longer dashes = more stuttery reading, I guess? I guess.

There are so many hilarious bits in this book, but they aren’t pithy one-liners — most of the jokes stretch over a number of paragraphs, so that I ended up highlighting these swathes of pages for one joke or impressive insight. Which makes it a rewarding book to read but difficult to quote.

I confess to speed-reading through parts of it (especially near the end) and I probably missed a lot, mainly because I didn’t have the patience to understand it fully. Tristram went over my head a lot of the time and although there were parts where I did take the extra time to re-read and consult the footnotes and look up a word, and all that extra work actually paid off, I’m not used to reading that way unless I’m writing an essay so screw that noise. And there were so many threads that just fell away never to be found again. I would love to be an expert on Tristram but he’s joining a big group of books I would love to be an expert on, so get in line, Tristram. One day, when I am older, there will be no books left and I’ll come back to this one and learn it inside out.

(My Goodreads review of Tristram Shandy by Laurence Sterne)

Some notes, in no particular order, from our trip to and from Florida for American Thanksgiving with Scott’s side of the family:

  • 4th
  • December
  • 2012
Fun stuff! I picked this up because of the movie forthcoming next year, and of course because of Levi Stahl’s infectious enjoyment of the author’s work. Enjoyed this more than the earlier Parker book I read, and made me want to read more of these. The pseudo love triangle that never happened stuck with me afterward for some reason. When we actually were in the vicinity of Palm Beach visiting Scott’s grandparents before American Thanksgiving, I kept thinking back to this book. That’s the best kind of book, I think, the one that keeps coming back to you after you finish it.(My Goodreads review of Flashfire by Richard Stark)

Fun stuff! I picked this up because of the movie forthcoming next year, and of course because of Levi Stahl’s infectious enjoyment of the author’s work. Enjoyed this more than the earlier Parker book I read, and made me want to read more of these. The pseudo love triangle that never happened stuck with me afterward for some reason. When we actually were in the vicinity of Palm Beach visiting Scott’s grandparents before American Thanksgiving, I kept thinking back to this book. That’s the best kind of book, I think, the one that keeps coming back to you after you finish it.

(My Goodreads review of Flashfire by Richard Stark)

An enjoyable read but I kept waiting for it to go somewhere it never did. It started and continued and then it ended. Would have enjoyed more elaboration on Laura’s relationship with her second husband Irving, because it looked empty but sounded full. Most of the book seemed to have Vaseline on the lens — although of course writing it that way, it sounds intentional. And now I’m done trying to tell someone else how to write a book.I am grateful to this book for putting me into the right mindset for watching “The Rise of Minna Nordstrom” and “The Nodder” episodes from Wodehouse Playhouse, which I discovered shortly after reading this. It is dated but hilarious. I keep trying to imitate Pauline Collins’s voice, British and American.(My Goodreads review of Laura Lamont’s Life in Pictures by Emma Straub)

An enjoyable read but I kept waiting for it to go somewhere it never did. It started and continued and then it ended. Would have enjoyed more elaboration on Laura’s relationship with her second husband Irving, because it looked empty but sounded full. Most of the book seemed to have Vaseline on the lens — although of course writing it that way, it sounds intentional. And now I’m done trying to tell someone else how to write a book.

I am grateful to this book for putting me into the right mindset for watching “The Rise of Minna Nordstrom” and “The Nodder” episodes from Wodehouse Playhouse, which I discovered shortly after reading this. It is dated but hilarious. I keep trying to imitate Pauline Collins’s voice, British and American.

(My Goodreads review of Laura Lamont’s Life in Pictures by Emma Straub)

One of those Canadian classics I was expecting to dislike, but it was actually a bit more subtle than I was expecting (not by much though) and I enjoyed it. The story kept heading in the direction of sustaining too much tension while being too boring, but somehow it kept taut enough that although I couldn’t wait for that tension to release, I stayed interested. Not something I would recommend to anyone unless they were really into Thomas Hardy. It’s that kind of book. And I used to love me some Thomas Hardy.(My Goodreads review of Wild Geese by Martha Ostenso)

One of those Canadian classics I was expecting to dislike, but it was actually a bit more subtle than I was expecting (not by much though) and I enjoyed it. The story kept heading in the direction of sustaining too much tension while being too boring, but somehow it kept taut enough that although I couldn’t wait for that tension to release, I stayed interested. Not something I would recommend to anyone unless they were really into Thomas Hardy. It’s that kind of book. And I used to love me some Thomas Hardy.

(My Goodreads review of Wild Geese by Martha Ostenso)

In my usual stupid way, I thought this book actually had to do with autumn, as in the season — hence my reading it in October (in fear that autumn will soon be over and winter will arrive at any moment), although I had two other books on the go. In fact the autumn in the title is a metaphor for a time of life. Obviously. The book actually takes place pretty much over all the seasons. I could have read this at any time in the year, but I had been saving it particularly for autumn. The front cover deceived me; I thought I was in for library-based conversations about anthropology; but in fact the scene on the front cover never actually takes place. It was fascinating how cold the characters were to each other, and yet so involved in each other.This book seemed a little less sharp than Pym’s others. It’s a later book and written during a particularly low point in her career but published after she started getting more attention again. In some ways it reminded me of Muriel Spark’s Memento Mori, I guess just in that they deal with similar themes and characters at a similar time of life (Spark’s characters were rather older though). I haven’t read many novels about people in the later stages of life, and I guess this is pretty laughable but I’m getting close to 30 so maybe I should be more interested in them?(My Goodreads review of Quartet In Autumn by Barbara Pym)

In my usual stupid way, I thought this book actually had to do with autumn, as in the season — hence my reading it in October (in fear that autumn will soon be over and winter will arrive at any moment), although I had two other books on the go. In fact the autumn in the title is a metaphor for a time of life. Obviously. The book actually takes place pretty much over all the seasons. I could have read this at any time in the year, but I had been saving it particularly for autumn. The front cover deceived me; I thought I was in for library-based conversations about anthropology; but in fact the scene on the front cover never actually takes place. It was fascinating how cold the characters were to each other, and yet so involved in each other.

This book seemed a little less sharp than Pym’s others. It’s a later book and written during a particularly low point in her career but published after she started getting more attention again. In some ways it reminded me of Muriel Spark’s Memento Mori, I guess just in that they deal with similar themes and characters at a similar time of life (Spark’s characters were rather older though). I haven’t read many novels about people in the later stages of life, and I guess this is pretty laughable but I’m getting close to 30 so maybe I should be more interested in them?

(My Goodreads review of Quartet In Autumn by Barbara Pym)

  • 3rd
  • December
  • 2012

erasingist:

Department of Interstate Ukulele: Laura’s rendition of Jason Segel’s “Dracula’s Lament” from Forgetting Sarah Marshall. Performed in the car on I-90 E somewhere in Ohio.

(Source: erasing.org)

erasingist:

Department of Interstate Ukulele: Our preferred version of “The Sheik of Araby (With No Pants On)”. Performed in the car on I-90 E somewhere in Ohio.