Up until this point, I'd read only one of de Lint's books (Forests of the Heart), even though I've been collecting what titles I can find at used book stores. Now that I've finished, I'm not sure what to do first: kick myself for not reading this (and the rest) sooner, or vow a one-de Lint-per-month-read-until-I'm-out-of-material promise to the Universe (in a sacred circle, natch *wink*). So, the point... not only is the book good, it was good for me.
*takes hit off imaginary cigarette*
I was reading someone else's review (posted on Amazon.com), and they'd mentioned someone else's suggestion that de Lint's stories really don't belong in the fantasy genre because of the urban setting.
Quoi??
I must certainly disagree with this (unfortunately undocumented--by me) assertion. Was that person trying to say that the Fae, the Gods, etc. don't exist everywhere? That "man" is so strong (or so willfully clueless) that they've been corralled into our shrinking open spaces? I posit that this belief is wrong, IMHO.
The protagonists of this story are each (and separately) taking advantage of a "do-over" from the universe. Their projects meld as two subplots collide: Diety/Nature reaches out to the mundanes in order to live, and Greed/False Honor pursues and torments said mundanes in order to add a few notches to their Boom-Stick cases. This conflict reminded me of discussions I've had regarding "power within" versus "power over." Big difference in dynamic, big difference in outcome.
Another thread in the story (that I found to be inspirational)--equally important to the one described above--was that of Ali's developing views of the world in regards to spirituality. While Ali's mother and the neighbor/potential love interest struggle with those who would take their resources (and lives), Ali wrestles with two interpretations of Diety that would have her mind and soul.
Now isn't all this scads more interesting than stories about blowing things up (actually, this story has some of that), racking up debt with new purses and shoes, or vampire hunters? [wait, I like that last one] There's much, much more depth to the story than what I've written here; but it's the sort of tale that speaks so personally to the (listening) reader, I can't do it justice. Suffice to say, I'll be reading many more de Lint books.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Red Harvest, by Dashiell Hammett
Our Canon book group decided to tackle a classic in the mystery genre for this month; we went with the "American hardboiled" style this time. I'm hoping we can read and discuss a title of its overseas cousin (the English cozy). This particular story is a fix-up (of several previously-published shorts) that Hammett collected and changed to make a smooth and fast-paced narrative for his novel (it's less than 200 pages, far smaller than most of today's standard paperbacks), published in 1929. I split this read into 3 short sittings (more by necessity than design), and only had a little trouble keeping the characters and their connections straight in my head. [A factor of age? dunno]
Hammett drew on his experiences as a Pinkerton agent for the narrator/character Continental Op and for the setting Person/Poisonville. The author does a good job of portraying the end of an era while including the experiences of both the power brokers and of the more common folk. I also found it interesting to read about Prohibition-era America and its accompanying batch of "criminals" who made their money from dealing alcohol.
This book reminded me of a much older genre--the Greek tragedy--in the sense that nearly everyone winds up dead by the end. Continental Op manipulated people and events to the overall but secondary goal, even though it put him at risk of having to ditch his identity or perhaps die. It certainly begs the question of whether the reader can consider C.O. to be on the side of "good." It seems to me that he's just as corrupt as the people he takes down. My bet is on the possibility that this was Hammett's point exactly. It must have seemed (back then) that the world was truly falling apart, that individuals could only live and act for themselves, and that there was no longer any real good in the world. Hammett captured that mood splendidly.
Hammett drew on his experiences as a Pinkerton agent for the narrator/character Continental Op and for the setting Person/Poisonville. The author does a good job of portraying the end of an era while including the experiences of both the power brokers and of the more common folk. I also found it interesting to read about Prohibition-era America and its accompanying batch of "criminals" who made their money from dealing alcohol.
This book reminded me of a much older genre--the Greek tragedy--in the sense that nearly everyone winds up dead by the end. Continental Op manipulated people and events to the overall but secondary goal, even though it put him at risk of having to ditch his identity or perhaps die. It certainly begs the question of whether the reader can consider C.O. to be on the side of "good." It seems to me that he's just as corrupt as the people he takes down. My bet is on the possibility that this was Hammett's point exactly. It must have seemed (back then) that the world was truly falling apart, that individuals could only live and act for themselves, and that there was no longer any real good in the world. Hammett captured that mood splendidly.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
In Memoriam, Persephone 1994-2007
I suppose I’ve been off-planet long enough; here’s my attempt to make sense of the last few weeks...
My Dearest Beloved Grrl
died in my arms on 5/15, 13 days shy of her 13th birthday. The story of how I found her, and her last hours, aren’t pretty. I’ve told a few people, but I don’t think there’s anyone who wants to see it in “print.”
Deep down, I’d known that she’d been making the transition, but her journey to the Summerlands (where there are no fleas, fireworks, or thunderstorms, yet chaseable bunnies and fresh deer legs are plentiful) still hit me hard. I also know that I could have easily lost her to breast cancer in 2001, so these past 6 years have, technically, been bonus time. I wish they’d been better for her. Let me explain...
When I first took Persephone home, we (the ex-sociopath and I) had no fencing at our rental. At first, our restraint system was chains. We tried an electric fence (with the zap collars), but she broke “through” it more times than my sanity could handle. So, we contrived an overhead run which gave her some room to, well, run. The relationship fell through, and I made my way out here, with herself riding shotgun (I’d made a nest on the floor, but she insisted on watching the road). Our first week here, I boarded her at a vet’s; when I’d found an affordable apartment, the best yard I could offer her was a 12’x6’ patio. At least she was off the tether, and we walked the neighborhood every weekday, and one park or another on the weekends. We saw our first fireflies together on the Town Lake trails.
The next few residences had adequate backyards--one with grass and another dog to play with, another with wild onions in lieu of a lawn, another that was rocky, but on a hill (excellent for surveillance, or so she told me), and the one before our current residence (Browncoat Acres), which had grass and a concrete slab to dig under--in theory, anyway. Hopefully, I have made the point that I was almost never happy with her living arrangements. I wanted her to be unfettered, to have shade and sun and grass at will, and to have space in which to gallop, like she used to do on the beach in her puppyhood. Can’t go back again, indeed.
We moved into this house over the 4th of July weekend in 2003. I remember being adamant that she be out of Austin and away from Nemesis#2. Finally, I’d found her a home where she was free to explore off-leash, switch locations at will, and make her own favorite spots. Within a few years, however, she became incontinent, and we weren’t able to treat it adequately. Her favorite spot was on the front porch, in front of the door ("take a hint, Mom"), so she was eventually confined to a run (cobbled together from cattle panels) in the backyard, which essentially put her back to where we’d started. The difference this time was in my ability to exercise her--I was pregnant with my son. At one point, I was nearly put on bed rest, and soon after that I was big enough to be uncomfortable exerting myself in the summer heat--two of our chickens exist purely because I didn’t set foot in the backyard to collect eggs for the 3 weeks prior to giving birth.
Could I make this story longer? I know I can’t justify or excuse the attentional neglect. I feel horrible for allowing myself to be coerced into banishing her from our home--I wanted her inside more often, I wanted her to be more comfortable in her later years, and I didn’t make it happen. I know (in my head) that I should focus on all the wonderful times we’ve had over the years and quit wasting energy on guilt-tripping.
Persephone had a wonderful smile.
She was beautiful.
She’d throw herself *wham* onto her back for a belly rub.
She’d also stick her butt up in the air to have it spanked--I swear she did not learn that from me.
I could feed her biscuits from my mouth.
She loved children, especially those with special needs.
She was so hurt when DH took her baby rabbit away.
Watching her take off down the beach, ears back, paws churning, made my heart sing.
She hated to swim, but did it for me anyway (what trust! what love!).
She was my best friend for nearly 13 years--that is the longest non-blood-family relationship I’ve had.
She loved to go camping; if it rained, I’d bring her into the tent with me.
She bore our rings at our handfasting.
She tolerated Anthony’s attempts at petting with grace.
She held her own when Boudreaux was in the mood to wrestle.
She behaved well in Circle.
She was the first of our animals to greet Anthony when we brought him home.
She’d howl at fire engine sirens, and at me if I sang “Blue” to her.
Of course she had a middle name: Ann.
She was always, always happy, nay, thrilled to see me.
I miss:
our walks down to the gate to get the mail
sleeping back-to-back with her
her kisses
the wag of her tail
her prance and bounce as I’d come near
her howl, and her “roo-roo-roo”
her sweet face
her deep brown eyes
playing tag, spins and play-bows included
the churn of her leg (sometimes two) as I scratched her belly
her, just her.
As far as the practical aftermath goes, her body is currently in our upright freezer (yes, it is almost impossible for me to go in there ). Neighbors run a business for which they own a backhoe; they will be coming over in the next few weeks to dig her grave (next to Kimmy’s), and I think DH will be building her coffin (if not, I have some phone calls to make). I’m considering a simple funeral, but I’m not sure what form it would take. I can’t find my copy of “I’ll Always Love You,” and it’s bothering me.
So, while I haven’t been dwelling specifically on losing Persephone, I’ve been in a self-absorbed funk. I’ve been reading, but not writing; the writing has got to get underway soon, or I will lose the best parts of my reviews to brainfade.
That said, I owe reviews for:
Greenmantle (for OUAT Challenge)
Good Kids, Bad Habits, and Dangerous Book for Boys (for BlogHer Virtual Book Tour)
Just a Geek (for NonFiction Challenge)
Irene at Large, Happiest Toddler on the Block, and A Life's Work (for Recorded Books)
My Dearest Beloved Grrl
died in my arms on 5/15, 13 days shy of her 13th birthday. The story of how I found her, and her last hours, aren’t pretty. I’ve told a few people, but I don’t think there’s anyone who wants to see it in “print.”
Deep down, I’d known that she’d been making the transition, but her journey to the Summerlands (where there are no fleas, fireworks, or thunderstorms, yet chaseable bunnies and fresh deer legs are plentiful) still hit me hard. I also know that I could have easily lost her to breast cancer in 2001, so these past 6 years have, technically, been bonus time. I wish they’d been better for her. Let me explain...
When I first took Persephone home, we (the ex-sociopath and I) had no fencing at our rental. At first, our restraint system was chains. We tried an electric fence (with the zap collars), but she broke “through” it more times than my sanity could handle. So, we contrived an overhead run which gave her some room to, well, run. The relationship fell through, and I made my way out here, with herself riding shotgun (I’d made a nest on the floor, but she insisted on watching the road). Our first week here, I boarded her at a vet’s; when I’d found an affordable apartment, the best yard I could offer her was a 12’x6’ patio. At least she was off the tether, and we walked the neighborhood every weekday, and one park or another on the weekends. We saw our first fireflies together on the Town Lake trails.
The next few residences had adequate backyards--one with grass and another dog to play with, another with wild onions in lieu of a lawn, another that was rocky, but on a hill (excellent for surveillance, or so she told me), and the one before our current residence (Browncoat Acres), which had grass and a concrete slab to dig under--in theory, anyway. Hopefully, I have made the point that I was almost never happy with her living arrangements. I wanted her to be unfettered, to have shade and sun and grass at will, and to have space in which to gallop, like she used to do on the beach in her puppyhood. Can’t go back again, indeed.
We moved into this house over the 4th of July weekend in 2003. I remember being adamant that she be out of Austin and away from Nemesis#2. Finally, I’d found her a home where she was free to explore off-leash, switch locations at will, and make her own favorite spots. Within a few years, however, she became incontinent, and we weren’t able to treat it adequately. Her favorite spot was on the front porch, in front of the door ("take a hint, Mom"), so she was eventually confined to a run (cobbled together from cattle panels) in the backyard, which essentially put her back to where we’d started. The difference this time was in my ability to exercise her--I was pregnant with my son. At one point, I was nearly put on bed rest, and soon after that I was big enough to be uncomfortable exerting myself in the summer heat--two of our chickens exist purely because I didn’t set foot in the backyard to collect eggs for the 3 weeks prior to giving birth.
Could I make this story longer? I know I can’t justify or excuse the attentional neglect. I feel horrible for allowing myself to be coerced into banishing her from our home--I wanted her inside more often, I wanted her to be more comfortable in her later years, and I didn’t make it happen. I know (in my head) that I should focus on all the wonderful times we’ve had over the years and quit wasting energy on guilt-tripping.
Persephone had a wonderful smile.
She was beautiful.
She’d throw herself *wham* onto her back for a belly rub.
She’d also stick her butt up in the air to have it spanked--I swear she did not learn that from me.
I could feed her biscuits from my mouth.
She loved children, especially those with special needs.
She was so hurt when DH took her baby rabbit away.
Watching her take off down the beach, ears back, paws churning, made my heart sing.
She hated to swim, but did it for me anyway (what trust! what love!).
She was my best friend for nearly 13 years--that is the longest non-blood-family relationship I’ve had.
She loved to go camping; if it rained, I’d bring her into the tent with me.
She bore our rings at our handfasting.
She tolerated Anthony’s attempts at petting with grace.
She held her own when Boudreaux was in the mood to wrestle.
She behaved well in Circle.
She was the first of our animals to greet Anthony when we brought him home.
She’d howl at fire engine sirens, and at me if I sang “Blue” to her.
Of course she had a middle name: Ann.
She was always, always happy, nay, thrilled to see me.
I miss:
our walks down to the gate to get the mail
sleeping back-to-back with her
her kisses
the wag of her tail
her prance and bounce as I’d come near
her howl, and her “roo-roo-roo”
her sweet face
her deep brown eyes
playing tag, spins and play-bows included
the churn of her leg (sometimes two) as I scratched her belly
her, just her.
As far as the practical aftermath goes, her body is currently in our upright freezer (yes, it is almost impossible for me to go in there ). Neighbors run a business for which they own a backhoe; they will be coming over in the next few weeks to dig her grave (next to Kimmy’s), and I think DH will be building her coffin (if not, I have some phone calls to make). I’m considering a simple funeral, but I’m not sure what form it would take. I can’t find my copy of “I’ll Always Love You,” and it’s bothering me.
So, while I haven’t been dwelling specifically on losing Persephone, I’ve been in a self-absorbed funk. I’ve been reading, but not writing; the writing has got to get underway soon, or I will lose the best parts of my reviews to brainfade.
That said, I owe reviews for:
Greenmantle (for OUAT Challenge)
Good Kids, Bad Habits, and Dangerous Book for Boys (for BlogHer Virtual Book Tour)
Just a Geek (for NonFiction Challenge)
Irene at Large, Happiest Toddler on the Block, and A Life's Work (for Recorded Books)
Sunday, May 13, 2007
A picture of the boy who calls me "Momma"
And a few "momma" books from my bookshelf:
[I've read these, and really need to review them]
An Innocent, A Broad (Ann Leary)
Mothers: A Celebration (Alexandra Stoddard)
My Mother Worked and I Turned Out Okay (Katherine Wyse Goldman)
All Mothers Work (Cindy Ramming)
Life Laughs (Jenny McCarthy)
[I need to read these]
The Mother Load (Caryl Christensen, Marilyn Kentz)
Domestic Affairs (Joyce Maynard)
Life's Work (Lisa Belkin)
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Back Roads, by Tawni O'Dell
It took me a while to get through this one, but only because of the format; I have only one spot in the house to listen to the selections I receive on cassette. My old boombox (purchased after my divorce in '92, since my husband wouldn't give up "his" stereo system) lives on my coffee/end table, and it just isn't conducive to curling up with a good listen. The next time I make a run to town, I'm hoping to find something a little newer (but are they made with cassette-playing capability anymore?) so that my son can have my old one--he loves music, and he could use a source aside from his "mobile" player.
Nice tangent, huh?
O'Dell is a good storyteller, but the story itself packs a heckuva wallop; it isn't for the ultra-sensitive. The people in the protagonist's immediate circle who have questionable morality issues will probably be challenging to the straight-laced reader. I haven't researched the author's background, so I can say only that her research into the dynamic of a family torn apart by abuse so awful that it warrants intervention by the authorities was well done.
This book touched a nerve with me; the scenes at the prison, the reason Harley's mother was in jail, and all the fallout directly related to the fact of a missing parent brought up a part of my past for which I'll get no resolution. I've even recently made an attempt to find out who was behind all the drama of my 8th year, but my dad stonewalled me, and made it all about himself. Anyway, I think that Harley's truth-seeking was quite true to life; a sane response to an insane situation.
Nice tangent, huh?
O'Dell is a good storyteller, but the story itself packs a heckuva wallop; it isn't for the ultra-sensitive. The people in the protagonist's immediate circle who have questionable morality issues will probably be challenging to the straight-laced reader. I haven't researched the author's background, so I can say only that her research into the dynamic of a family torn apart by abuse so awful that it warrants intervention by the authorities was well done.
This book touched a nerve with me; the scenes at the prison, the reason Harley's mother was in jail, and all the fallout directly related to the fact of a missing parent brought up a part of my past for which I'll get no resolution. I've even recently made an attempt to find out who was behind all the drama of my 8th year, but my dad stonewalled me, and made it all about himself. Anyway, I think that Harley's truth-seeking was quite true to life; a sane response to an insane situation.
Monday, May 7, 2007
Books finished, books acquired
I'm finally done with Good Kids, Bad Habits and Happiest Toddler on the Block (reviews to follow) so I can start reading something for the non-fiction challenge. Once I finish listening to Back Roads (1 1/2 tapes to go), I'll start another for the Once Upon a Time Challenge. I also need to start reading another for the BlogHer Virtual Book Tour. I'm way behind on those.
I received the following when I held my Spring Swap this weekend:
The Deep End (Joy Fielding)
Wilderness (Dennis Danvers)
Night Thunder (Ruby Jean Jensen)
Shaitan (Max Ehrlich)
Wilding (Melanie Tem)
Dream Makers, v.2 (Charles Platt)
Berserker Base (various)
Neena Gathering (Valerie Nieman Colander)
Castle Perilous, Castle for Rent, Castle Kidnapped (John DeChancie)
Caught in Crystal (Patricia C. Wrede)
Sunwaifs (Sydney J. van Scyoc)
Sorceress of Darshiva (David Eddings)
The Citadel of Chaos (Steve Jackson)
Men in Black (Steve Perry)
plus others listed elsewhere...these were the best of the sci-fi/fantasy/horror mix.
One of these days, I will write some long-overdue reviews and send some more books out of the house. I can't get back into trading on the BookCrossing forums until I make good on books I owe people. If I could have 4 good (interrupted) days of writing/typing and package prep, I could get all that out of the way and clear off some shelves.
I received the following when I held my Spring Swap this weekend:
The Deep End (Joy Fielding)
Wilderness (Dennis Danvers)
Night Thunder (Ruby Jean Jensen)
Shaitan (Max Ehrlich)
Wilding (Melanie Tem)
Dream Makers, v.2 (Charles Platt)
Berserker Base (various)
Neena Gathering (Valerie Nieman Colander)
Castle Perilous, Castle for Rent, Castle Kidnapped (John DeChancie)
Caught in Crystal (Patricia C. Wrede)
Sunwaifs (Sydney J. van Scyoc)
Sorceress of Darshiva (David Eddings)
The Citadel of Chaos (Steve Jackson)
Men in Black (Steve Perry)
plus others listed elsewhere...these were the best of the sci-fi/fantasy/horror mix.
One of these days, I will write some long-overdue reviews and send some more books out of the house. I can't get back into trading on the BookCrossing forums until I make good on books I owe people. If I could have 4 good (interrupted) days of writing/typing and package prep, I could get all that out of the way and clear off some shelves.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
A non-literary challenge
Carl over at Stainless Steel Droppings has offered his readers a healthy challenge (under the guise of sticking around longer=reading more books--who can argue with that?). Personally, I've been wanting my baby weight off ever since it came back on (yes, I lost it all within the first month after giving birth in August 2005, plus 10 pounds, and it ALL CAME BACK). Maybe I can get a little more encouragement than I do from the 43Things crowd. Cheering is nice, but I don't get enough real commentary for it to be motivating.
Here's the basic outline of my plan to lose 10 pounds by September 1st:
water intake--according to this calculator, I should be consuming 14 8-ounce glasses of water a day. That seems a bit much, but I'll work up to it (I don't need kidney poisoning, TYVM). According to various sources, that doesn't mean, literally, straight water over and above already consumed liquids (which I get via juice, milk, fruits/veggies, and pasta). In short, boost the liquids, and be regular about it.
exercise--I bought a treadmill via craigslist 3 weeks ago, and I've been on it 4 times, long enough to burn 80-90 calories each time. Not impressive. I should be on there daily, and I should be increasing my time/distance. I need to put my pedometer back on and start tracking my non-treadmill steps (10,000 is an ideal, but it's really hard to make that happen--I could probably reach that goal once a week if I went on a snarf fest, attended a street faire, or just went to the mall). To that end, I need to get off my butt more during the daytime and get the housework done, get the garden going, and work with the animals (especially Serenity, Persephone, and Boudreaux). I also want to find my hand-weights and do some upper-body work. My son's getting heavier, and I need to be able to pick him up without hurting myself. After a few months, I want to get a yoga routine going so I can add flexibility.
eating--I'm not balanced in content or regularity. I need more vegetables and fruits in my diet. I need to not skip meals. I need to not quadruple my chocolate intake during *ahem* certain critical weeks. I need more whole grains and less fats. I need to find healthy snacks and get my portions back down to "normal."
For other ideas, and other research, I'll be reading and dipping into:
You: On a Diet
The Athlete Within
Feel Good Naked
Diva
Well Being
Body For Life
8 Minutes in the Morning
In the Kitchen with Rosie
Healthy Cooking for Two
1000 Vegetarian Recipes
AMA Family Cookbook
Weight Watchers Quick and Easy Menu Cookbook
Weight Watchers Meals in Minutes Cookbook
Susanne Somers’ Eat, Cheat, and Melt the Fat Away
Mediterranean Diet Cookbook
I may or may not try to track my progress on FitDay; if I can keep up with it, I'll post weekly reports here.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Non-Fiction Five Challenge
Because I can't resist...
Here's my preliminary list of 5:
Gifts of the Wild: A Woman's Book of Adventure
How the Irish Saved Civilization (Thomas Cahill)
Just a Geek (Wil Wheaton)
Wolves at Our Door (Jim and Jamie Dutcher)
The Devil in the White City (Erik Larson)
If I have time, I'll read selections from this list, as my mood dictates:
Seeking Enlightenment hat by Hat (Nevada Barr)
The Land Remembers (Ben Logan)
The Way of Zen (Alan W. Watts)
Molly Ivins Can't Say That, Can She?
I Sleep at Red Lights (Bruce Stockler)
Here's my preliminary list of 5:
Gifts of the Wild: A Woman's Book of Adventure
How the Irish Saved Civilization (Thomas Cahill)
Just a Geek (Wil Wheaton)
Wolves at Our Door (Jim and Jamie Dutcher)
The Devil in the White City (Erik Larson)
If I have time, I'll read selections from this list, as my mood dictates:
Seeking Enlightenment hat by Hat (Nevada Barr)
The Land Remembers (Ben Logan)
The Way of Zen (Alan W. Watts)
Molly Ivins Can't Say That, Can She?
I Sleep at Red Lights (Bruce Stockler)
Monday, April 23, 2007
God of the Golden Fleece, by Fred Saberhagen
Fantasy fandom knows Fred Saberhagen through his more prolific series (Berserker and Swords) and perhaps to a lesser extent his Vampire books. In the late ‘90’s, he started writing about the gods of old; he focused on, but didn’t limit himself to, the Greek pantheon. In this installment [the fourth of five], Saberhagen chronicles the development of the newly-transferred Triton while telling Jason and Medea’s story, sort of.
Saberhagen definitely has no compunction in reworking the classic myths to perhaps tell a better story. I didn’t read the original original, and my memory of the general story is admittedly fuzzy, but I was surprised at who (and even more so, how) was brought down by the end. Saberhagen’s gods have their physical and territorial limitations, and their “powers” sometimes go completely out the window when when it comes to dealing with Giants; such is the hazard of being housed in a human host.
There’s only one left in the series, the reason for which I’ve read two explanations: 1) the publisher isn’t interested in more, and 2) the author was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer during or soon after the publication of the last book and hasn’t been up to writing more (for this series, anyway—I didn’t dig deep enough to see if anything’s been forthcoming). I do have to say that I enjoyed the first two (Mask of Apollo, Ariadne’s Web) over the last two I’ve read, but I think that the next one, set with the Norse pantheon, will redeem the series as a whole. I’m curious to see if Saberhagen actually wraps the “big picture,” or if he left it open for either his return or another’s efforts to continue.
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