BookLust

Random Readings 16

     Jane settled down on the bench and prepared herself for a long wait. She had brought along a box of tissues for her lingering sniffles plus two books. One was Magic by the Lake. She'd just gotten to the part where Katharine was stuck in the oil jar in Ali Baba's cave, and although this was the fourth time Jane had read the book, she was excited to read what came next. This is what made a book great, she thought, that you could read it over and over and never get tired of it.

– from The Penderwicks by Jeanne Birdsall

(A charming and delightful story, I might add. A real breath of fresh air amongst the glut of  YA 'issue' books out there)

Random Readings 15

If I remembered that morning of Clarissa's birthday so well – cards and torn envelopes scattered across the bed, intrusive sunlight burning through the curtained gap – it's because one of our little playful episodes brought me for the first time in my life to a full and complete experience in two places at once. Aroused by Clarissa, fully sentient and appreciative, and yet gripped by the tragedy behind the newspaper titbit, the two teams scattering midplay in the violent winds to die in their boots on the edge of the invisible pitch. All copulating creatures are vulnerable to attack, but selection over time must have proved that reproductive success was best served by undivided attention. Better to allow the occasional couple to be eaten mid-rapture than dilute by one jot a vigorous procreational urge. But for seconds on end I had wholesomely and simultaneously indulged two of life's central, antithetical pleasures, reading and fucking.

– from Enduring Love by Ian McEwan

Random Readings 14

"The end?" said Abilene indignantly.

"Yes," said Pellegrina, "the end."

"But it can't be."

"Why can't it be?"

"Because it came too quickly. Because no one is living happily ever after, that's why."

"Ah, and so." Pellegrina nodded. She was quiet for a moment. "But answer me this: how can a story end happily if there is no love? But. Well. It is late. And you must go to sleep."

Pellegrina took Edward from Abiline. She put him in his bed and pulled the sheet up to his whiskers. She leaned close to him. She whispered, "You disappoint me."

– from The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane
    by Kate DiCamillo
    Beautiful illustration by the extremely gifted Bagram Ibatoulline.

Random Readings 13

As a child, Der Nister had once heard a story that the head of the rabbinic academy in Volozhin used to tell his students. One night when he was still a young man, the headmaster dreamed that he had died, and had arrived in the next world. When it was the headmaster's turn to appear before the divine throne, the Holy One took him by the hand and brought him to a small door. The door opened, and the headmaster found himself in a luminous room filled with books: shelves and tables loaded with books, manuscripts in high stacks all over the floor. The headmaster looked around the secret library and smiled. He was sure this room was the place that had been reserved for him in paradise. But as he reached to take a volume off the shelf, the divine hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder and held him back. "These are all the books you were supposed to have written," the Holy One said. "Why didn't you write them?"

– from The World To Come by Dara Horn

I know I've quoted from this book in my previous Random Readings, but the story is just so lovely, so magical, that it cries out to be mentioned again.

I also know that I have not been writing much about books in any detail of late, which is rather odd, considering my blog is called BookLust. In my defence, my last big illustration job was very exhausting and time-consuming, and I really needed to not be in front of the computer for an extended period of time. Plus I also had been working on some creative writing, which took up a lot of my extra time. But I have read many books which are bubbling up inside of me, and need to get out on this blog, so please hang in there – my cup truly doth runneth over with biblio-love. It will all spill out very soon.

Random Readings 12

"Remember the story you learned as a child: When the hour arrives for us to proceed to the next world, there will be two bridges to it, one made of iron and one made of paper," Peretz intoned. His words were heavy, but his voice floated on rings of smoke, a breath of fire and ash waiting to descend and consume them. Der Nister swallowed, breathing in the master's air. "The wicked will run to the iron bridge, but it will collapse under their weight. The righteous will cross the paper bridge, and it will support them all. Paper is the only eternal bridge. Your purpose as a writer is to achieve one task, and one task only: to build a paper bridge to the world to come."

– from The World To Come by Dara Horn

Lately I've been trying to only read one book at a time – I used to do this more often when I was younger, and seemed to have a never-ending supply of time at my disposal. But as an adult I find it very hard to ignore this sense of urgency as one ages – the realization that it's over so fast, and that this isn't a dress rehearsal for anything else (in spite of that appealing title). I prefer to read one book at a time, but it's that nagging urgency that compels me sometimes to pile on the stories. Problem is, if you eat too much at once, you can't taste anything. For reasons beyond my understanding, Kalooki Nights and The World To Come are pulling at me from different directions. What is so fascinating to me is that the subject matter in both books are so similar – neurotic, troubled Russian Jewish male protagonists, a friend/enemy who has a dramatic effect on his past and present, the authors' interest in the history of Jews in Russia, the significance of artists in the novels (in one a cartoonist, and in the other, an author and illustrator of children's books). What does it all signify? I can't wait to find out.

Random Readings 11

Once when no one was buying my cartoons I took a job ripping off the Tom of Finland books for an unscrupulous pirate publisher of gay eroticism. Deltoidal, no-necked, peach-bottomed sadists and cock-suckers wearing leather caps and curiously benign expressions, romping in a spunky never-never sodomitic kindergarten unimpeded by the needs or interdictions of wives and mothers. For a straight man who couldn't see what Tom of Finland had to offer, other than the clean lines of the illustrations and the absence, beyond twenty-four-hour on-tap buggery and fellatio, of any supererogatory fantasy or fuss, I reckon I made a reasonable fist of copying his creations.

– from Kalooki Nights by Howard Jacobson

That's what I read as I was sitting on the bus coming home after purchasing this book. Damn, I cannot wait to get to this. Yes, I've been reading some really lovely writing lately (and yes, I must start talking about some of these books here), but I must confess that I've really been craving something funny, I mean, goddam funny to read. And I don't just mean one inane joke after another kind of book – I mean something with substance, something about the human spirit, but written with an irreverent but sympathetic wit. At a party I attended recently I met a columnist for one of our national newspapers who just happens to be writing a novel. Knowing the kind of writing he does, I replied that I assumed the novel would be funny, and I was right. We talked a bit about roman á clef novels, the dearth of funny in Canadian Lit, and how much we miss Richler. And then over the weekend I discovered this book. How could I not buy it? Geez – the main character is a cartoonist.

Random Readings 10

20. Keep related words together.
The position of the words in a sentence is the principal means of showing their relationship. Confusion and ambiguity result when words are badly placed. The writer must, therefore, bring together the words and groups of words that are related in thought and keep apart those that are not so related.

He noticed a large stain in the rug that was right in the center.

He noticed a large stain right in the center of the rug.

– from The Elements of Style by William Strunk Jr. and E.B. White; illustrated by Maira Kalman

Random Readings 9

I have been a writer my entire life. As a writer, even as a child, long before what I wrote began to be published, I developed a sense that meaning itself was resident in the rhythms of words and sentences and paragraphs, a technique for withholding whatever it was I thought or believed behind an increasingly impenitrable polish.

– from The Year Of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion

Random Readings 8

This is a print I purchased from The Aliquando Press, at a book show in Toronto two years ago. I wrapped it up very nicely and put it away for safe keeping and would you believe, forgot all about it until today while cleaning out my old portfolio cases. Now I must search for the perfect frame so it can grace my precious library. I do love these kind of surprises – it's like finding five dollors in your coat pocket, only better.

Random Readings 7

"...I have a hard time seeing a library as a centre of community. The library, for me, was a place of solitude and quiet. It still is ... These were the places I could get to in my reading which I wanted to visit, which I thought I would never visit. There were people, in my reading, more sophisticated than those around me. The library, to me, was an escape from my community."

– from Muriella Pent by Russell Smith