Two years?! Really?! Have I been lazy that long? Sometimes, it seems to me time has no relevance at all. It rushes by and all you can do is hold on tight so that you aren't left behind. I guess the same has happened to me. In the intervening years, I have gone and gotten myself married and am now a mother of a surprisingly pretty boy (no point being modest about, no?)
On the career front, I have been teaching and discovered my true calling, as it were. After unsuccessfully trying my hand at research, I am back to safer shores, obtaining plain old degrees. So I attempted the State exam for Education and got through. Now all I am doing is waiting for college to start so I can be back amid the familiar and comforting surroundings of academia. In the meanwhile, I am setting up home for my messy, messy hubby..after months of derelict living alone and also for my bundle of energetic joy :)
I still have my heart set on creating a colossal library and have added much since the last time I blogged. I had an Excel sheet with a list of my entire collection, which sadly seems to have been deleted along with some crazy virus that keeps attacking my venerable PC.
However, when not buying, I trip off to the local British Library to get my fill of printed madness. This time I picked up Joanne Harris' 'Gentlemen and Players,' Salman Rushdie's 'Enchantress of Florence,' and David Lodge's 'The Campus Trilogy.'
Joanne Harris is the writer of the famous-made-by-Johnny Depp-movie, 'Chocolat.' Enchanted by windy, chilly France and of course by chocolate, I gave this one a shot. The book's not so bad if you have Juliette Binoche and Depp constantly running through your head. Harris' narrative tends to lag a bit until you really don't know where it is going anymore. Another example of this is her 'Blackberry Wine.' It is a story told mostly in flashback wherein a fading writer looks back on his childhood and its most altering experiences. While this may sound very golden and nostalgia-inducing-goodness, it does not quite reach that goldenness until much later in the novel and by then you are just plain frustrated. more so for me, as I was just out of the hospital after my delivery and was trying to cope with being stuck to bed rest.Another I read by her was
'Lollipop Shoes.' Now this was a sequel of sorts to the veritable 'Chocolat' and was by reflection a better book. Her editors could well ask her to skim her stories by a couple of chapters, and she'd be better to read.
'Gentlemen and Players' also suffers from a similar preponderance with incidents and details. The story (insofar that I have read) is about revenge of the middle class public-schooler upon an exclusive and by default snooty private school. The protagonist (or is he the antogonist?) as a child plays immense pretend games, imagining himself as a student of St. Oswald's Grammar School, which he infiltrates via his father, the handyman's devices. Later, as an adult, he manages to enter the school on false pretexts and wrecks havoc within it, plotting and planning.
I had almost given up on this one, seeing as there were needless and winding insights into the Latin Teacher's mind and life. The only books where I have seen details to be charming are 'A Suitable Boy' by Vikram Seth (a total, total favorite) and Tarun Tejpal's 'Alchemy of Desire.' The rest, as they say, is superfluous.
I hope to see Harris' to the end, especially since this is the last one that Brit Lib stocks of her. After this, lined up for perusal is 'Enchantress of Florence.' Much flowery language is promised, I believe.
Until next time..happy reading!
On the career front, I have been teaching and discovered my true calling, as it were. After unsuccessfully trying my hand at research, I am back to safer shores, obtaining plain old degrees. So I attempted the State exam for Education and got through. Now all I am doing is waiting for college to start so I can be back amid the familiar and comforting surroundings of academia. In the meanwhile, I am setting up home for my messy, messy hubby..after months of derelict living alone and also for my bundle of energetic joy :)
I still have my heart set on creating a colossal library and have added much since the last time I blogged. I had an Excel sheet with a list of my entire collection, which sadly seems to have been deleted along with some crazy virus that keeps attacking my venerable PC.
However, when not buying, I trip off to the local British Library to get my fill of printed madness. This time I picked up Joanne Harris' 'Gentlemen and Players,' Salman Rushdie's 'Enchantress of Florence,' and David Lodge's 'The Campus Trilogy.'
Joanne Harris is the writer of the famous-made-by-Johnny Depp-movie, 'Chocolat.' Enchanted by windy, chilly France and of course by chocolate, I gave this one a shot. The book's not so bad if you have Juliette Binoche and Depp constantly running through your head. Harris' narrative tends to lag a bit until you really don't know where it is going anymore. Another example of this is her 'Blackberry Wine.' It is a story told mostly in flashback wherein a fading writer looks back on his childhood and its most altering experiences. While this may sound very golden and nostalgia-inducing-goodness, it does not quite reach that goldenness until much later in the novel and by then you are just plain frustrated. more so for me, as I was just out of the hospital after my delivery and was trying to cope with being stuck to bed rest.Another I read by her was 'Lollipop Shoes.' Now this was a sequel of sorts to the veritable 'Chocolat' and was by reflection a better book. Her editors could well ask her to skim her stories by a couple of chapters, and she'd be better to read.
'Gentlemen and Players' also suffers from a similar preponderance with incidents and details. The story (insofar that I have read) is about revenge of the middle class public-schooler upon an exclusive and by default snooty private school. The protagonist (or is he the antogonist?) as a child plays immense pretend games, imagining himself as a student of St. Oswald's Grammar School, which he infiltrates via his father, the handyman's devices. Later, as an adult, he manages to enter the school on false pretexts and wrecks havoc within it, plotting and planning.
I had almost given up on this one, seeing as there were needless and winding insights into the Latin Teacher's mind and life. The only books where I have seen details to be charming are 'A Suitable Boy' by Vikram Seth (a total, total favorite) and Tarun Tejpal's 'Alchemy of Desire.' The rest, as they say, is superfluous.
I hope to see Harris' to the end, especially since this is the last one that Brit Lib stocks of her. After this, lined up for perusal is 'Enchantress of Florence.' Much flowery language is promised, I believe.
Until next time..happy reading!
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