Saturday, April 23, 2011
Treading
Since I'm done with things that are important (taxes, Passover cleaning, failing to get a lease for my Urban Dream House) and I can't/won't do other things that are important (packing what appears to be an infinite amount of stuff, getting a lease for my Urban That'll-Do House, laying eyes on my Urban That'll-Do House), I'm focusing pretty heavily on the unimportant (Facebook, Bones, lackadaisically "organizing" my email inbox). Strangely, this has included less reading that one might think. I am not, for example, reading right now, although I could be learning more about Filipina nannies and narratorial voice from Mona Simpson. I'm not avoiding this, exactly. I just like to picture a life in my head and nestle into the picture (which is probably one reason I like reading so much, so intensely, so fetishistically); failing that, I'm having a hard time living in my own. I read the Cordelia Gray (see previous post), but I didn't really sink into it; for that matter, I struggled some with Call Me Irresistible, which serves no other purpose than the sinking. It's possible, I guess, that James' women, unleavened, are just too much; possible that Susan Elizabeth Phillips' characters are just buried under backstory now; but I think my brain just wants to have moved already, is in Chicago in spirit. Maybe it's getting some reading done.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Decisions, Decisions
Okay. Whew. I got into grad school, have a whole different cold, and am looking to self-medicate as I juggle the following:
*Moving to Chicago, including finding a house and a daycare (possibly harder than finding a house)
*Scheduling flights for my husband (whose #1-ranked doctoral program is 700 miles away)
*Cleaning the house for Passover (this is both a spiritual and a physical cleaning, involving the digging-through of closets and vast quantities of boiling water and wax paper)
*Finishing the frog-swallerin' taxes (which are due the day Passover starts, and I ask you, which of us is man enough to properly file medical bills? Including NyQuil receipts?)
*Trying to still be creative and energetic about teaching even though I'm leaving and the kids palpably don't care (IS IT SPRING BREAK YET FOR GOSHSAKES)
So, clearly I need a book over troubled waters. Here are the choices:
*Call Me Irresistible, by Susan Elizabeth Phillips. SEP is the sine qua non of romance writers. She has a whole romance-verse populated by strong and sensitive men, many professional football players, which is inexplicably soothing while also being erotic and funny. Now, people, including me, might mock me for this secret weakness, but I would suggest that if a PERSON were soothing, erotic, and funny, you'd snatch 'em up! Am I right? My concern: I've been out of the SEP loop for a while and I'm not sure I can tolerate references to other characters/situations in the oeuvre, as that will make me feel both silly for having known/loved them in the first place and elitist for having left them behind. Elitist is not the word I'm looking for, but perhaps said word is in the Passover closet, in which case, fuck it.
*My Hollywood, by Mona Simpson. This is, apparently, The Help with Filipina nannies. I liked The Help, despite some political issues therewith, and I like stories about nannies. I have no objection to learning more about Filipinas.
*An Unsuitable Job for a Woman, by P.D. James. I've recently finished the last of James' Adam Dalgliesh novels, about which I'm really pretty torn up, so it seems like rounding out her British mystery list is worthwhile. But I'm dragging my heels: what if Cordelia Gray's not as GOOD? (James' female characters are not particularly sympathetic, and they're a bit uncannily self-aware). What will I do when there's no more new P.D. James LEFT? (The woman's in her eighties. Let's be real.)
*Captive Queen, by Alison Weir. I like Alison Weir all right, I don't know anything much about Eleanor of Aquitaine, and there's a nervous-looking woman in a fancy dress on the cover. What more could I need.
Please note: the choice will be paired with Elizabeth Gaskell's Wives and Daughters. I'm actively trying to fill in gaps, and I'm avoiding Ivanhoe and Ethan Frome with a nice Victorian fattie (although Gaskell doesn't make me swoon, and it's recently turned out that Wharton kind of does. A little bit. Mostly The House of Mirth.)
*Moving to Chicago, including finding a house and a daycare (possibly harder than finding a house)
*Scheduling flights for my husband (whose #1-ranked doctoral program is 700 miles away)
*Cleaning the house for Passover (this is both a spiritual and a physical cleaning, involving the digging-through of closets and vast quantities of boiling water and wax paper)
*Finishing the frog-swallerin' taxes (which are due the day Passover starts, and I ask you, which of us is man enough to properly file medical bills? Including NyQuil receipts?)
*Trying to still be creative and energetic about teaching even though I'm leaving and the kids palpably don't care (IS IT SPRING BREAK YET FOR GOSHSAKES)
So, clearly I need a book over troubled waters. Here are the choices:
*Call Me Irresistible, by Susan Elizabeth Phillips. SEP is the sine qua non of romance writers. She has a whole romance-verse populated by strong and sensitive men, many professional football players, which is inexplicably soothing while also being erotic and funny. Now, people, including me, might mock me for this secret weakness, but I would suggest that if a PERSON were soothing, erotic, and funny, you'd snatch 'em up! Am I right? My concern: I've been out of the SEP loop for a while and I'm not sure I can tolerate references to other characters/situations in the oeuvre, as that will make me feel both silly for having known/loved them in the first place and elitist for having left them behind. Elitist is not the word I'm looking for, but perhaps said word is in the Passover closet, in which case, fuck it.
*My Hollywood, by Mona Simpson. This is, apparently, The Help with Filipina nannies. I liked The Help, despite some political issues therewith, and I like stories about nannies. I have no objection to learning more about Filipinas.
*An Unsuitable Job for a Woman, by P.D. James. I've recently finished the last of James' Adam Dalgliesh novels, about which I'm really pretty torn up, so it seems like rounding out her British mystery list is worthwhile. But I'm dragging my heels: what if Cordelia Gray's not as GOOD? (James' female characters are not particularly sympathetic, and they're a bit uncannily self-aware). What will I do when there's no more new P.D. James LEFT? (The woman's in her eighties. Let's be real.)
*Captive Queen, by Alison Weir. I like Alison Weir all right, I don't know anything much about Eleanor of Aquitaine, and there's a nervous-looking woman in a fancy dress on the cover. What more could I need.
Please note: the choice will be paired with Elizabeth Gaskell's Wives and Daughters. I'm actively trying to fill in gaps, and I'm avoiding Ivanhoe and Ethan Frome with a nice Victorian fattie (although Gaskell doesn't make me swoon, and it's recently turned out that Wharton kind of does. A little bit. Mostly The House of Mirth.)
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