Friday evening Ken and I watched a huge chunk of the fairly recent movie, Mary Queen of Scots. Both of us thrilled to the rugged, awe-inspiring landscapes of Scotland--they seemed other-worldly to us because our rugged landscape is so different.
We don't have much further to go with the movie, really, but I'm a bit disappointed that the viewer isn't offered more insight into many of the characters--most of the insights come from the characters' reactions to events, catastrophes, and the like. And I must say the only character of consequence, the only character that the camera really focuses on is Mary. And perhaps Elizabeth, though secondarily. Of course we're not meant to care about her.
I'm surprised that so few characters close to the queens are identified or easily identifiable. I would have appreciated a fuller picture of the cast and characters involved. But still, the film is entertaining, Scotland is such a huge presence, the costumes are grand, and Mary herself is something to see.
Tonight after finishing Mary, we will watch Vice, the film that skewers the former Vice-president Dick Cheney and others in the GW Bush administration. It's supposed to be funny. If only it weren't so horribly sad. But funny is great from where I sit. Have you seen it?
Today I settled back into The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins again, reviewing the 50 pages I had read, and then reading 50 more pages. I'm deeply sunk into it now. I'll enjoy resuming tomorrow. I'm enjoying this one for the Back to the Classics Challenge (in the "Very Long Classic" category), the TBR Challenge, and the Chunkster Challenge.
Saturday, March 16, 2019
Friday, March 15, 2019
Mucho Reading on the Ides of March! What Would Brutus Say?
Might Julius Ceasar have avoided his fate if he had stayed at home reading? Or if Brutus had?
Today, Friday, I read a great deal, as I have the other days of this week. I finished reading Tessa Hadley's The London Train, which I started on Tuesday, I believe. It's on my list for the 2019 TBR Challenge that Alex at Roof Beam Reader is hosting. (His blog is listed in the sidebar.) This weekend, I must write the review for it. I liked it, but there is much, much more to say about a book by Tessa Hadley than "I liked it" or "I didn't like it."
Daily this week I've been reading chapters of The Radetsky March by Joseph Roth, the 1932 Austrian novel, following members of the Von Trotta Family from the late 18th century to the end of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the empire of the Hapsburgs, in World War I.
I am finding this one to be powerful and extraordinarily well-handled. There is so much that I could say about it, but I will wait until the 3-part, 3-week-long roundup of the book takes place in April. I'm so grateful to have been made aware of this classic, thanks to Lizzy and Caroline of Beauty is a Sleeping Cat. (See sidebar).
Today I devoured a children's novel (ages 10-14) by one of my favorite children's authors, Ruth M. Arthur, entitled My Daughter, Nicola. Most of Arthur's books are set in remote locations of England and Wales, but this one is set in the Swiss Alps, probably sometime in the early 20th century. Arthur wrote most of her books from the early 1960s through the late 1970s. During her adult, married life she lived in Surrey, England, but evidently she once attended school in Scotland. A number of her books have somewhat supernatural elements in them, related to ancient times in Briton. It can be hard to find her books now, but I've been collecting them for the past 30 years or so, one by one, from used book sellers and rare book dealers. They captivate me in the way few books do. The young heroines almost never have a full set of normal parents. They live with a kind aunt, or an uncle, or a grandparent, leaving them a bit untethered and able to interact with the universe a bit more freely. I simply adore them because the questing of these heroines speak to me, as well as their vulnerabilities.
Today, Friday, I read a great deal, as I have the other days of this week. I finished reading Tessa Hadley's The London Train, which I started on Tuesday, I believe. It's on my list for the 2019 TBR Challenge that Alex at Roof Beam Reader is hosting. (His blog is listed in the sidebar.) This weekend, I must write the review for it. I liked it, but there is much, much more to say about a book by Tessa Hadley than "I liked it" or "I didn't like it."
Daily this week I've been reading chapters of The Radetsky March by Joseph Roth, the 1932 Austrian novel, following members of the Von Trotta Family from the late 18th century to the end of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the empire of the Hapsburgs, in World War I.
I am finding this one to be powerful and extraordinarily well-handled. There is so much that I could say about it, but I will wait until the 3-part, 3-week-long roundup of the book takes place in April. I'm so grateful to have been made aware of this classic, thanks to Lizzy and Caroline of Beauty is a Sleeping Cat. (See sidebar).
Today I devoured a children's novel (ages 10-14) by one of my favorite children's authors, Ruth M. Arthur, entitled My Daughter, Nicola. Most of Arthur's books are set in remote locations of England and Wales, but this one is set in the Swiss Alps, probably sometime in the early 20th century. Arthur wrote most of her books from the early 1960s through the late 1970s. During her adult, married life she lived in Surrey, England, but evidently she once attended school in Scotland. A number of her books have somewhat supernatural elements in them, related to ancient times in Briton. It can be hard to find her books now, but I've been collecting them for the past 30 years or so, one by one, from used book sellers and rare book dealers. They captivate me in the way few books do. The young heroines almost never have a full set of normal parents. They live with a kind aunt, or an uncle, or a grandparent, leaving them a bit untethered and able to interact with the universe a bit more freely. I simply adore them because the questing of these heroines speak to me, as well as their vulnerabilities.
Tuesday, March 12, 2019
The Wolves of Winter by Tyrell Johnson
I started reading The Wolves of Winter yesterday afternoon and finished it today at around 3 pm. Perfecto!! It was the parfait book for the state my brain is in (think Montana or Idaho!). Gosh--no disparagement intended to those two beautiful states. What I tried to convey in my dithered state is that, because I live in northern New York, my brain is somewhere far away.
I purchased this book very early in 2019 or late in 2018 after reading an article about "the stellar suspense/thriller/adventure debut novels of 2018." I do remember it was the only one in the list that intrigued me.
The Wolves of Winter is set in the Yukon wilderness (I do have a fondness for novels set in true wilderness), it's a post-apocalyptic novel (I occasionally succumb to that genre), and was critiqued as having compelling characters, not to mention a great dog.
The suspense of this family trying to survive a nuclear winter in one of the coldest places on Earth was mind-blowingly fascinating, and then the complications arise: Strange people arrive on the scene. What do they want? Who are they? Where did they come from? How do they fit in with the end-of-the-world scenario? Important questions for their survival.
I could not stop reading today, partly because I would have to take leave of the book's spell and suffer mentally the full consequences of my litany of "this is the most horrendous cold I've had in years" symptoms. Just don't go there. (Ken informed me this afternoon that the grocery stores are totally out of boxes of tissues, the shelves are EMPTY except for a few boxes of the terrible brands that are no good.)
I'd love a good night's sleep, but if that fails, I have some good books on hand, of the uncomplicated, suspenseful sort.
I purchased this book very early in 2019 or late in 2018 after reading an article about "the stellar suspense/thriller/adventure debut novels of 2018." I do remember it was the only one in the list that intrigued me.
The Wolves of Winter is set in the Yukon wilderness (I do have a fondness for novels set in true wilderness), it's a post-apocalyptic novel (I occasionally succumb to that genre), and was critiqued as having compelling characters, not to mention a great dog.
The suspense of this family trying to survive a nuclear winter in one of the coldest places on Earth was mind-blowingly fascinating, and then the complications arise: Strange people arrive on the scene. What do they want? Who are they? Where did they come from? How do they fit in with the end-of-the-world scenario? Important questions for their survival.
I could not stop reading today, partly because I would have to take leave of the book's spell and suffer mentally the full consequences of my litany of "this is the most horrendous cold I've had in years" symptoms. Just don't go there. (Ken informed me this afternoon that the grocery stores are totally out of boxes of tissues, the shelves are EMPTY except for a few boxes of the terrible brands that are no good.)
I'd love a good night's sleep, but if that fails, I have some good books on hand, of the uncomplicated, suspenseful sort.
Sunday, March 10, 2019
Succumbing to Columbella by Phyllis Whitney
This is the second of two posts for today--Sunday, March 10th. I've been a bit behind--hence the two entries.
Columbella was published in 1966, at a time when Phyllis Whitney was at the height of her best writing of mysteries/ romantic suspense novels. I purchased it for $1.99 from Early Bird Books for my Nook, and today, in the grips of languishing from a vicious cold, I managed to enjoy finishing it.
Like many of Whitney's novels, Columbella is set in a somewhat exotic locale--in St. Thomas, in the U.S. Virgin Islands. No, this is most assuredly not Elin Hilderbrand's USVI of the 21st century, St. John.
Whew--what a time warp! Columbella is set at a time at least 50 years before Hilderbrand's Winter Paradise. Yet, like Hilderbrand's novel, most of the action in Columbella takes place in a grand household on a great hill overlooking St. Thomas, just as Hilderbrand's novel is set in a resplendent mansion overlooking St. John. I much appreciated Whitney's attention to the details of St. Thomas's capital city Charlotte Amalie and even more by the plants and the vividly depicted scenery which made the settings in Columbella so intensely vibrant. Whitney had a genuine strength in the depiction of setting--she visited the locales she wrote about, did loads of research in the libraries of the places that were her settings. I enjoyed this one, and as I was feeling quite out of sorts physically, it soothed and distracted me, as I hoped it would.
If today is any measure of how I'm faring with this idiotic cold, I'll be able to enjoy at least another day or two of intensive reading.
I have started reading The Radetsky March by Joseph Roth, the novel that encapsulates the downfall of the Austro-Hungarian Empire through WWI. A riveting and completely unexpected first chapter has me poised to venture forward quickly into the reading of this novel.
Columbella was published in 1966, at a time when Phyllis Whitney was at the height of her best writing of mysteries/ romantic suspense novels. I purchased it for $1.99 from Early Bird Books for my Nook, and today, in the grips of languishing from a vicious cold, I managed to enjoy finishing it.
Like many of Whitney's novels, Columbella is set in a somewhat exotic locale--in St. Thomas, in the U.S. Virgin Islands. No, this is most assuredly not Elin Hilderbrand's USVI of the 21st century, St. John.
Whew--what a time warp! Columbella is set at a time at least 50 years before Hilderbrand's Winter Paradise. Yet, like Hilderbrand's novel, most of the action in Columbella takes place in a grand household on a great hill overlooking St. Thomas, just as Hilderbrand's novel is set in a resplendent mansion overlooking St. John. I much appreciated Whitney's attention to the details of St. Thomas's capital city Charlotte Amalie and even more by the plants and the vividly depicted scenery which made the settings in Columbella so intensely vibrant. Whitney had a genuine strength in the depiction of setting--she visited the locales she wrote about, did loads of research in the libraries of the places that were her settings. I enjoyed this one, and as I was feeling quite out of sorts physically, it soothed and distracted me, as I hoped it would.
If today is any measure of how I'm faring with this idiotic cold, I'll be able to enjoy at least another day or two of intensive reading.
I have started reading The Radetsky March by Joseph Roth, the novel that encapsulates the downfall of the Austro-Hungarian Empire through WWI. A riveting and completely unexpected first chapter has me poised to venture forward quickly into the reading of this novel.
Thoughts after Reading Ruth Bader Ginsburg: A Life
Here it is the tenth of March, and it's my first post of the month. Time has been swallowed up by household disasters, which are now (finally!) resolved, at least for the time being. So very grateful.
Due to a vicious cold, I'm more or less grounded at home right now, which has given me the chance to catch up with reading.
I've finished the audio of Ruth Bader Ginsburg: A Life by Jane Sherron De Hart (2018), which in book form is about 732 pages. It's an academic work, but it really answered many of my questions and expanded my view, especially of cases in the mid-20th century.
What I liked best is that I learned a tremendous amount about the prominent progressive legal cases of the mid-late 20th century, the ultra-conservative backlash from the late 20th century, and its solidifying presence in the 21st century (think lard or concrete). I never thought I'd live to see Supreme Court justices so conservative (so reactionary, as progressives labeled ultra-conservatives in the late 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s) that they would regard and interpret the Constitution literally, analyzing the text, word by word, according to what each word literally meant in the late 18th century. That's Clarence Thomas. Neil Gorsuch. Samuel Alito. Chief Justice Roberts.
Think of that. That our Constitution should be used as a tool to reframe issues of the 21st century according to the values of the late 18th century. Really. When the term man or men meant only white men of property.
No wonder we are in such a mess right now, and I would have liked to have used harsher terms. The Supreme Court, in 2019, is no longer an institution to redress grievances for beleaguered citizens fighting oppression, but serves only corporations, powerful white men, and powerful religious leaders and groups. Analyze the cases they are hearing, the oral arguments, the decisions, and the dissents.
As a result of the current situation, dozens of recent and current cases that might have been appealed to the Supreme Court in the past, will no longer seek redress there. Because they know now they will lose.
So we now have all three branches of the federal government in disarray--executive, judicial, and legislative. What concerns me most is how the Supreme Court will respond to cases in which the rights of voters have been nullified due to conservatives' efforts to eliminate their votes. (Sorry about that last sentence. I couldn't get the wording just right.)
Due to a vicious cold, I'm more or less grounded at home right now, which has given me the chance to catch up with reading.
I've finished the audio of Ruth Bader Ginsburg: A Life by Jane Sherron De Hart (2018), which in book form is about 732 pages. It's an academic work, but it really answered many of my questions and expanded my view, especially of cases in the mid-20th century.
What I liked best is that I learned a tremendous amount about the prominent progressive legal cases of the mid-late 20th century, the ultra-conservative backlash from the late 20th century, and its solidifying presence in the 21st century (think lard or concrete). I never thought I'd live to see Supreme Court justices so conservative (so reactionary, as progressives labeled ultra-conservatives in the late 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s) that they would regard and interpret the Constitution literally, analyzing the text, word by word, according to what each word literally meant in the late 18th century. That's Clarence Thomas. Neil Gorsuch. Samuel Alito. Chief Justice Roberts.
Think of that. That our Constitution should be used as a tool to reframe issues of the 21st century according to the values of the late 18th century. Really. When the term man or men meant only white men of property.
No wonder we are in such a mess right now, and I would have liked to have used harsher terms. The Supreme Court, in 2019, is no longer an institution to redress grievances for beleaguered citizens fighting oppression, but serves only corporations, powerful white men, and powerful religious leaders and groups. Analyze the cases they are hearing, the oral arguments, the decisions, and the dissents.
As a result of the current situation, dozens of recent and current cases that might have been appealed to the Supreme Court in the past, will no longer seek redress there. Because they know now they will lose.
So we now have all three branches of the federal government in disarray--executive, judicial, and legislative. What concerns me most is how the Supreme Court will respond to cases in which the rights of voters have been nullified due to conservatives' efforts to eliminate their votes. (Sorry about that last sentence. I couldn't get the wording just right.)
Thursday, February 28, 2019
Just a Note before a Real Post
I can never believe how the time flies between posts.
I have been mesmerized by Midnight in Chernobyl this week. (Please see my previous post.)
This late afternoon I read only 12 pages in 45 minutes. It was a technical section that explained the special type of nuclear reactor used in nuclear power plants in the Soviet Union, as opposed to those used in the West, including the U.S., and all the reasons why the Soviets built the reactors they did as opposed to why Westerners built a totally different (safer) type.
Believe me truly, I do not have a mind for physics, I never took a class in physics, I am an ignoramus on the subject. But the author explained so succinctly and simply how the Soviet reactors worked that I was rivetted. But only 12 pages in 45 minutes. I had to concentrate. But I was not in the least bored. I was not counting the pages. This is great writing.
Not only that, but Higginbotham interweaves the stories of people and families closely tied to the power plant in Chernobyl.
I have been mesmerized by Midnight in Chernobyl this week. (Please see my previous post.)
This late afternoon I read only 12 pages in 45 minutes. It was a technical section that explained the special type of nuclear reactor used in nuclear power plants in the Soviet Union, as opposed to those used in the West, including the U.S., and all the reasons why the Soviets built the reactors they did as opposed to why Westerners built a totally different (safer) type.
Believe me truly, I do not have a mind for physics, I never took a class in physics, I am an ignoramus on the subject. But the author explained so succinctly and simply how the Soviet reactors worked that I was rivetted. But only 12 pages in 45 minutes. I had to concentrate. But I was not in the least bored. I was not counting the pages. This is great writing.
Not only that, but Higginbotham interweaves the stories of people and families closely tied to the power plant in Chernobyl.
Saturday, February 23, 2019
New Books in the House and a Reading Calendar
Before I wax on about new books, I have to say that it has now become necessary for me to plot and plan future reading on a calendar, to make sure I have time to read what I intend to this year. This does sound like over-kill and may sound onerous, but I'm looking forward to doing this as a helpful tool, especially because I think it may ensure that the books I most want to read are not overlooked.
I'm still at the very beginning of A Woman in White. I got totally stuck there while household havoc abounded. And did it ever! I plan to pick up the pace with this one, starting Sunday (tomorrow) morning.
In the meantime, to help divert my mind from an overflowing washing machine, flooded laundry room, etc., I purchased two 2019 fiction titles for the Nook. I've already finished The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides, a debut novel and a thriller that packs a punch. Yes, it certainly has received a lot of hype, but it is the best thriller I've read since last January's The Woman in the Window by A.J. Finn. As it turns out, A.J. Finn is a pseudonym for the author Daniel Mallory. He has recently been accused of plagiarism for this book, by the way. In any case I recommend The Silent Patient, if you find the premise appeals to you. It's about a wounded psychotherapist and his patient, accused of murdering her husband, but did she, really??
The second novel is English author Tessa Hadley's recently published Late in the Day. I made it to page 50 and began to question if I wanted to continue. It's a story that involves two closely-knit London families, the parents of which met at university and before marriage, and who dated each other all around. On the second page of the book, deep into the couples' middle age, the most charismatic of the foursome has died very suddenly.
The novel has received stellar reviews from The New York Times, whose reviewer said it was the best book Hadley has ever written. As I've mentioned before I simply loved her novel The Past.
I do think I will finish this novel, but with our household crises, I may not have felt in the mood for it.
And lest I forget, Midnight in Chernobyl: The Untold Story of the World's Greatest Nuclear Disaster by Adam Higginbotham, published last week by Simon & Schuster, finally arrived at our home last night. I say "finally" because even though UPS tracked the package as "delivered" to our location, there was no book to be found on our property. Come to find out, the rookie UPS employee had wrapped the package in a plastic bag and tied it to a tree on the road on a neighbor's property, a quarter of a mile from our house. I will spare you further details.
What's new and unique about this book about Chernobyl is that the author studied never-before-released Soviet records from that time period--which was April 1986 and the months and years following until the downfall of the Soviet regime. Higginbotham received an excellent review from Anne Appelbaum, whose books relating to Soviet history are very well-known and are prize-winners.
This is a scholarly book, so I'm reading it very slowly, checking the notes, eager to learn more about this terrible event that is so instructive about nuclear power and its limitations. It is set in Ukraine, so it will count toward The European Reading Challenge.
I'm still at the very beginning of A Woman in White. I got totally stuck there while household havoc abounded. And did it ever! I plan to pick up the pace with this one, starting Sunday (tomorrow) morning.
In the meantime, to help divert my mind from an overflowing washing machine, flooded laundry room, etc., I purchased two 2019 fiction titles for the Nook. I've already finished The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides, a debut novel and a thriller that packs a punch. Yes, it certainly has received a lot of hype, but it is the best thriller I've read since last January's The Woman in the Window by A.J. Finn. As it turns out, A.J. Finn is a pseudonym for the author Daniel Mallory. He has recently been accused of plagiarism for this book, by the way. In any case I recommend The Silent Patient, if you find the premise appeals to you. It's about a wounded psychotherapist and his patient, accused of murdering her husband, but did she, really??
The second novel is English author Tessa Hadley's recently published Late in the Day. I made it to page 50 and began to question if I wanted to continue. It's a story that involves two closely-knit London families, the parents of which met at university and before marriage, and who dated each other all around. On the second page of the book, deep into the couples' middle age, the most charismatic of the foursome has died very suddenly.
The novel has received stellar reviews from The New York Times, whose reviewer said it was the best book Hadley has ever written. As I've mentioned before I simply loved her novel The Past.
I do think I will finish this novel, but with our household crises, I may not have felt in the mood for it.
And lest I forget, Midnight in Chernobyl: The Untold Story of the World's Greatest Nuclear Disaster by Adam Higginbotham, published last week by Simon & Schuster, finally arrived at our home last night. I say "finally" because even though UPS tracked the package as "delivered" to our location, there was no book to be found on our property. Come to find out, the rookie UPS employee had wrapped the package in a plastic bag and tied it to a tree on the road on a neighbor's property, a quarter of a mile from our house. I will spare you further details.
What's new and unique about this book about Chernobyl is that the author studied never-before-released Soviet records from that time period--which was April 1986 and the months and years following until the downfall of the Soviet regime. Higginbotham received an excellent review from Anne Appelbaum, whose books relating to Soviet history are very well-known and are prize-winners.
This is a scholarly book, so I'm reading it very slowly, checking the notes, eager to learn more about this terrible event that is so instructive about nuclear power and its limitations. It is set in Ukraine, so it will count toward The European Reading Challenge.
Wednesday, February 20, 2019
The Radetsky March by Joseph Roth (Readalong-April)
During the month of March I'll be reading the Austrian or, by birth, the Galician Joseph Roth's 1932 masterpiece, The Radetsky March. The overarching theme and setting of the novel concerns the decline and downfall of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, as seen (at least partially) through the lives of the fictional Von Trotta family. The readalong is hosted by Lizzy of Lizzy's Literary Life and Caroline of Beauty is a Sleeping Cat.
Because I've read so many novels and movies depicting the eve of WWI and the Great War itself as seen from the shores of the UK, I will be utterly fascinated to read a classic that deals with the last days of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. I know next to nothing about it. I have read another book by Joseph Roth, and I can't recall the title at all at the moment. (Sigh!) But this book is hugely acclaimed. And I'm so enthused about participating.
Joseph Roth was born into a Jewish family in Galicia, in the eastern region of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, in what is now western Ukraine. He attended the University of Vienna and became a journalist. Roth served on the Eastern Front (against the Russian Empire).
What interests me even more about this readalong is that Lizzy and Caroline will be posting discussion questions, for each third of the book, for each of the first three weeks of April.
It's not too late to join in. Are you as intrigued as I am?
Because I've read so many novels and movies depicting the eve of WWI and the Great War itself as seen from the shores of the UK, I will be utterly fascinated to read a classic that deals with the last days of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. I know next to nothing about it. I have read another book by Joseph Roth, and I can't recall the title at all at the moment. (Sigh!) But this book is hugely acclaimed. And I'm so enthused about participating.
Joseph Roth was born into a Jewish family in Galicia, in the eastern region of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, in what is now western Ukraine. He attended the University of Vienna and became a journalist. Roth served on the Eastern Front (against the Russian Empire).
What interests me even more about this readalong is that Lizzy and Caroline will be posting discussion questions, for each third of the book, for each of the first three weeks of April.
It's not too late to join in. Are you as intrigued as I am?
Thursday, February 14, 2019
Magnificent New Books in the House
I'm writing a post to cheer me up. We were already having a challenging week, completely aside from having company coming for the President's Day Weekend (Ken's cousins), who are arriving Saturday morning, and we had no running water as of late afternoon yesterday. This morning we were so incredibly lucky to be installed with a new pump for the well. We have water now, but it's very murky at present. For a while, all the sediment caused every tap and bathroom to malfunction. But Ken got us sorted out after six hours of labor--how thankful I am about that. So all we have now is murky water (iron-laden), but we always have plenty of bottled water for drinking and cooking. I'm so glad I washed the bed linens ahead of time, but I still need to do all the towels. (This is wilderness living.)
I received three books by mail this week, which was so rewarding, but I've had so many financial duties to attend to and other disasters that this week has been the least "readingest" week of
2019. Oh, I'll catch up!
I now have a beautiful hardcover copy of One Hundred Years of Solitude, which Katrina (of Pining for the West) and I have planned to read together, starting July 1st, as part of the Back to the Classics Challenge, hosted by Karen of Books and Chocolate. Isn't this a gorgeous book cover?
Also in the mail was The Radiant Way by the acclaimed English author Margaret Drabble, which is the first novel in a trilogy set in the 1980s, during Thatcher's time. I picked up a lovely, very clean first edition hardcover of the third book in the trilogy years ago from a library book sale entitled The Gates of Ivory. I realized this year that I might enjoy the trilogy more if I read the first book first. The Radiant Way I purchased from a book dealer as a first American edition hardcover in "like new" condition. It was cheaper than buying a new paperback, and it will match my third book. It is in beautiful condition. I am a total devotee of Drabble, for reasons I'll make clear further on in the year, I fully expect. I feel so at home in her novels.
The third arrival by mail was The Love-Charm of Bombs, which Katrina of Pining for the West reviewed. (Check out the link.) For this one, I bought another hardcover, at a very low cost compared to the paperback, and it is a pristine copy.
My next Classic Read is The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins. I have managed to begin and am enjoying it, but have not had a minute to read during this entire week, and I can't wait to really dig in to the novel this weekend (imagine a thoroughbred waiting to be released to race the track). This one is for the Back to the Classics Challenge and the TBR Challenge.
Gosh, how I need to escape! Ken keeps his cousins well entertained (they are all guys and are a very nice bunch). They only need me to cook a few breakfasts and dinners. I actually love doing that and the rest of the time I go snowshoeing, I read, and knit while listening to an audiobook. (I am so looking forward to some time to do that.)
I received three books by mail this week, which was so rewarding, but I've had so many financial duties to attend to and other disasters that this week has been the least "readingest" week of
2019. Oh, I'll catch up!
I now have a beautiful hardcover copy of One Hundred Years of Solitude, which Katrina (of Pining for the West) and I have planned to read together, starting July 1st, as part of the Back to the Classics Challenge, hosted by Karen of Books and Chocolate. Isn't this a gorgeous book cover?
Also in the mail was The Radiant Way by the acclaimed English author Margaret Drabble, which is the first novel in a trilogy set in the 1980s, during Thatcher's time. I picked up a lovely, very clean first edition hardcover of the third book in the trilogy years ago from a library book sale entitled The Gates of Ivory. I realized this year that I might enjoy the trilogy more if I read the first book first. The Radiant Way I purchased from a book dealer as a first American edition hardcover in "like new" condition. It was cheaper than buying a new paperback, and it will match my third book. It is in beautiful condition. I am a total devotee of Drabble, for reasons I'll make clear further on in the year, I fully expect. I feel so at home in her novels.
The third arrival by mail was The Love-Charm of Bombs, which Katrina of Pining for the West reviewed. (Check out the link.) For this one, I bought another hardcover, at a very low cost compared to the paperback, and it is a pristine copy.
My next Classic Read is The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins. I have managed to begin and am enjoying it, but have not had a minute to read during this entire week, and I can't wait to really dig in to the novel this weekend (imagine a thoroughbred waiting to be released to race the track). This one is for the Back to the Classics Challenge and the TBR Challenge.
Gosh, how I need to escape! Ken keeps his cousins well entertained (they are all guys and are a very nice bunch). They only need me to cook a few breakfasts and dinners. I actually love doing that and the rest of the time I go snowshoeing, I read, and knit while listening to an audiobook. (I am so looking forward to some time to do that.)
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