Lies. Truths. Passion. Miracles.
Sunday, 22 March 2009 04:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
freckles_and_doubtMy Evil Landlord put up new shelves for me a few weeks back, as a result of which my collection of kiddielit is now adequately housed, with room to grow. (This is necessary). I also moved a bunch of the kiddielit out of my study shelves, freeing up enough space that now my adult collection actually fits (just. This is going to become problematical very quickly). The process revealed two entire shelves of books comprising the following:
- books I have bought but haven't yet got around to reading (27 of them);
- books I have borrowed but haven't yet got around to reading (32 of them).
I should probably point out that in the last couple of months I have regressed to comfort-reading, which means I've re-read my entire Rex Stout collection once, my entire JD Robb collection once, and about two-thirds of my Diana Wynne Jones collection, this last in reverse chronological order for no adequately defined reason. There is clearly a Fatal Flaw in my reading practice. In a possibly futile attempt to mitigate this, I have spent most of the day reading from these shelves, in between rearranging books. The fruits of my labours:
Inkheart. Book club book. I've been avoiding this in the bookstore for a while, it didn't pass the Random Page test. In the event the writing style didn't annoy me enough to prevent me finishing it - it's translated from the German, giving it a slightly flat, colourless tone at times, but the story itself is compelling, if a little tense and nasty. The basic idea - being able to read storybook characters into existence, dragging them from their world into ours - is interesting and its implications, moral and psychological, are intelligently explored. I felt that the whole plot was a bit inward-turned, however, circling round and round the same point, with an ongoing intensification of lowering threat. Points, though, for excellent quotes from excellent children's lit, and really terrifying bad guys who are also complex and, at times, pitiable.
Bridge to Terebithia. One of those books I vaguely feel I should have read. Now I have. Entirely and utterly not what I was expecting, I'd randomly assumed it was a Narnia-style other-world fantasy, and in fact it's a beautifully-focused realist story about children's friendship, the imagination and, in an understated and rather heart-rending way, class differences. It's also a gut-punch, in the final few paragraphs if not in the climactic moment, and made me cry. Points for insight, empathy and a really lovely narrative restraint.
Weirdly enough both of these books have recently been made into films, neither of which I have seen, and both of which I rather suspect will dismally fail to do justice to the original. (Inkheart features Brendan Fraser. 'Nuff said.) Watch this space. Also, if you catch me talking about acquiring any more books at all until I've read the remaining 57, please stage an intervention.
- books I have bought but haven't yet got around to reading (27 of them);
- books I have borrowed but haven't yet got around to reading (32 of them).
I should probably point out that in the last couple of months I have regressed to comfort-reading, which means I've re-read my entire Rex Stout collection once, my entire JD Robb collection once, and about two-thirds of my Diana Wynne Jones collection, this last in reverse chronological order for no adequately defined reason. There is clearly a Fatal Flaw in my reading practice. In a possibly futile attempt to mitigate this, I have spent most of the day reading from these shelves, in between rearranging books. The fruits of my labours:
Inkheart. Book club book. I've been avoiding this in the bookstore for a while, it didn't pass the Random Page test. In the event the writing style didn't annoy me enough to prevent me finishing it - it's translated from the German, giving it a slightly flat, colourless tone at times, but the story itself is compelling, if a little tense and nasty. The basic idea - being able to read storybook characters into existence, dragging them from their world into ours - is interesting and its implications, moral and psychological, are intelligently explored. I felt that the whole plot was a bit inward-turned, however, circling round and round the same point, with an ongoing intensification of lowering threat. Points, though, for excellent quotes from excellent children's lit, and really terrifying bad guys who are also complex and, at times, pitiable.
Bridge to Terebithia. One of those books I vaguely feel I should have read. Now I have. Entirely and utterly not what I was expecting, I'd randomly assumed it was a Narnia-style other-world fantasy, and in fact it's a beautifully-focused realist story about children's friendship, the imagination and, in an understated and rather heart-rending way, class differences. It's also a gut-punch, in the final few paragraphs if not in the climactic moment, and made me cry. Points for insight, empathy and a really lovely narrative restraint.
Weirdly enough both of these books have recently been made into films, neither of which I have seen, and both of which I rather suspect will dismally fail to do justice to the original. (Inkheart features Brendan Fraser. 'Nuff said.) Watch this space. Also, if you catch me talking about acquiring any more books at all until I've read the remaining 57, please stage an intervention.
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Date: Sunday, 22 March 2009 08:30 pm (UTC)I may be a lightweight, but I tend to feel that, given the fact that I read very fast and continuously, there is no excuse for me. The unread pile has only really started accumulating in the last couple of years. If I wasn't rereading old favourites all the time the unread collection would be toast, I say, TOAST! (Also, full-time work doesn't help. Dammit.)