This is a mystery by Elizabeth Peters, written in 1969. It's an amusing, light, quick read.
I needed one last quick read before starting War and Peace! I'm on page 47 out of 1,405.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Book 5: My Life in France
My Life in France is a memoir by the chef Julia Child (written with her great-nephew). It's a very readable collection of stories from France in the '40s, '50s, and '60s. She also talks about visiting and living in the U.S., Germany, and Norway.
Unsurprisingly, there is a lot of talk about food and about writing her books, Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volumes 1 and 2. It is especially interesting to read about her experiences with making the first successful cooking TV show (when she and her husband had hardly ever watched TV).
Julia is so likeable in this book. She is a hard-working perfectionist. She forgives her co-authors even while still irritated by their quirks and failings. She seems like someone who just dives right in and goes for it, whatever IT is. I could use a little more of that right now.
Great light reading, especially if you like food or traveling.
Unsurprisingly, there is a lot of talk about food and about writing her books, Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volumes 1 and 2. It is especially interesting to read about her experiences with making the first successful cooking TV show (when she and her husband had hardly ever watched TV).
Julia is so likeable in this book. She is a hard-working perfectionist. She forgives her co-authors even while still irritated by their quirks and failings. She seems like someone who just dives right in and goes for it, whatever IT is. I could use a little more of that right now.
Great light reading, especially if you like food or traveling.
Book 4: Stranger in a Strange Land
This 1961 sci-fi novel by Robert A. Heinlein is pretty fun. Picture it: one day in the future, a team of astronauts successfully lands on Mars. A baby is born and due to all sorts of complicated circumstances, the adults all die. The human baby is raised by Martians. 25 years later (or so) another human expedition lands on Mars with much-improved technology. They meet the Martians and take the human Martian back to Earth.
Valentine Michael Smith, the human Martian, knows how to use his mind to communicate telepathically, move things with telekinesis, and control his own heartbeat and body temperature. He can teach these things to the rest of the humans, if they're willing to learn.
He thinks that our ideas about nudity and monogamy are ridiculous (what? this was written by a man as the buttoned-down 1950s concluded? and there's a huge -- though not explicit -- focus on sex, sex, sex?)
This is pretty good for a sci-fi book. It's always fun for me to see what people thought life would be like NOW. Heinlein foresaw traveling to Mars, self-driven flying cars, indoor grass as a very luxurious carpet, synthetic foods, world government, and all the same legal complications and social mores as in the '60s.
Valentine Michael Smith, the human Martian, knows how to use his mind to communicate telepathically, move things with telekinesis, and control his own heartbeat and body temperature. He can teach these things to the rest of the humans, if they're willing to learn.
He thinks that our ideas about nudity and monogamy are ridiculous (what? this was written by a man as the buttoned-down 1950s concluded? and there's a huge -- though not explicit -- focus on sex, sex, sex?)
This is pretty good for a sci-fi book. It's always fun for me to see what people thought life would be like NOW. Heinlein foresaw traveling to Mars, self-driven flying cars, indoor grass as a very luxurious carpet, synthetic foods, world government, and all the same legal complications and social mores as in the '60s.
Monday, February 1, 2010
The no reading experiment was a failure!
I read 100 pages.
They were very short pages, from Julia Child's My Life in France. My copy is a paperback, and there are a lot of empty spaces on the pages. I barely read at all!
But it was still a literal failure.
BUT, in another sense, a bigger-picture sense, the gist of it was a success. I noticed how many times I wished that I could just "take a break" from whatever pressure I was putting on myself and read for a while instead. If I'd been cleaning for a couple hours and was tired of it, I'd want to go sit down and read for a while. If I was trying to write and felt stuck, I'd want to go grab a book.
Escaping into some kind of made-up world is definitely a crutch for me. But I am not convinced that it's generally a bad one. Yes, sometimes I have read TOO much instead of doing things. I am now very aware of the way I feel when that urge to escape responsibility rears up, and I think I can deal with it a little bit better after this week.
Last week, I also did the same experiment with Ms. Internet and TV-as-background-noise. I also literally failed at cutting both of those out of my life, but I did cut way down AND notice what was going on with me when I retreated into either habit rather than face whatever horrible task I was "supposed" to be doing.
Here are some things that are horrible:
* figuring out what to do with my life
* finding the job that goes with "what to do with my life"
* vacuuming, especially the stairs
In summary, I'm labeling this failure "Pretty Much Good Enough."
--
In other news, tonight I am going to have *A Beer*
It has been a whole month without alcohol, and I am looking forward to having *A Beer*
It might be a 90 Schilling.
They were very short pages, from Julia Child's My Life in France. My copy is a paperback, and there are a lot of empty spaces on the pages. I barely read at all!
But it was still a literal failure.
BUT, in another sense, a bigger-picture sense, the gist of it was a success. I noticed how many times I wished that I could just "take a break" from whatever pressure I was putting on myself and read for a while instead. If I'd been cleaning for a couple hours and was tired of it, I'd want to go sit down and read for a while. If I was trying to write and felt stuck, I'd want to go grab a book.
Escaping into some kind of made-up world is definitely a crutch for me. But I am not convinced that it's generally a bad one. Yes, sometimes I have read TOO much instead of doing things. I am now very aware of the way I feel when that urge to escape responsibility rears up, and I think I can deal with it a little bit better after this week.
Last week, I also did the same experiment with Ms. Internet and TV-as-background-noise. I also literally failed at cutting both of those out of my life, but I did cut way down AND notice what was going on with me when I retreated into either habit rather than face whatever horrible task I was "supposed" to be doing.
Here are some things that are horrible:
* figuring out what to do with my life
* finding the job that goes with "what to do with my life"
* vacuuming, especially the stairs
In summary, I'm labeling this failure "Pretty Much Good Enough."
--
In other news, tonight I am going to have *A Beer*
It has been a whole month without alcohol, and I am looking forward to having *A Beer*
It might be a 90 Schilling.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)