Shaken & Stirred: Terrible Lies & Good Month Ahead

October 01, 2007

Terrible Lies & Good Month Ahead

Let us all bid September a not-so-fond adieu. October feels better already. A word of caution to home improvement DIYers -- while this is pretty, it is an utter, complete, total fabrication that it is in any way "easy" to install. Not easy. Particularly not in a hundred-year-old house, in which the original rooms are not actually "square" and have complicated woodwork around the doors. You may wonder why we chose said product? Because it was supposed to be easy, and we could do it ourselves, saving on installation. This according to the manufacturer and the ~~LIAR~~SPEOPLE OF THE INTERNET.

I hate to use the transitional adverb LUCKILY here, because LUCKY doesn't even begin to cover it, but when it turns out that you have been lied to by a flooring product and everyone online, the only possible way to salvage the outcome is to be, LUCKILY, rescued by a ridiculously generous neighbor who used to do this stuff professionally and is willing to spend all weekend bailing you out. It looks lovely though, it does, and is done except for transitions and stuff. So, in this way, I am counting our first big house project a success. And those of you who come visit will be amazed at how different the kitchen feels.

(We still have a couple of rooms we want to replace the flooring on, but it's seeming far less urgent, and way more likely we will hire it done.)

And that was the weekend... On a more bookish topic, the other day OGIC mentioned that she'd discovered The Hobbit for the first time and asked:

What children's classics did you first discover as an adult (Harry Potter doesn't count), and how did it make you feel--old? young again?

I'll say Dodie Smith's I Capture the Castle and Michael de Larrabeiti's Borribles trilogy. Both of these made me feel incredibly sad that I hadn't discovered them when I was a kid, and completely enchanted. But then, I feel closest to my childhood self when I'm reading anything that completely connects. There is a kind of joy there that is maybe more rare as I get older, but no less powerful when it comes.

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I hadn't read the Green Knowe books, or Tove Jansson's Moomin books. Or I Capture the Castle. Or Eva Ibbotson's ya-ish romance novels, like A Company of Swans, and Magic Flutes.

The Borrible books are wonderful. Have you read all three?

Posted by: Kelly Link | October 01, 2007 at 11:52

Yep, you gave them to me a couple of years ago. :)

I found the Moomin books in high school, but wish it'd happened sooner. And Ibbotson is still on my list; for some reason I keep forgetting to read her. You _MUST_ read Ursula Dubosarsky, btw -- you'll love her stuff.

Posted by: Gwenda | October 01, 2007 at 11:58

I have long ago surrendered any DIY homeowner notions (aside from nerd stuff like wireless bridging, etc) and accepted that I am much happier if I have professionals do things.

Primarily this is because I seem to lack what my brother calls "Man Skills". It is also, though, because I am much better at visionary than at "painstaking and exacting".

Posted by: Mr. McLaren | October 01, 2007 at 14:11

I hear you, brother. This project just (not as advertised) required way more technical chops -- and professional tools -- than we had access to. I suspect we will stick with things like painting that we've successfully done before in the future.

Posted by: Gwenda | October 01, 2007 at 14:15

Read Read

E. Lockhart: Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks, The
You might think the world doesn't need any more boarding school novels, but if you haven't read this one then you're wrong, wrong, wrong. E. Lockhart has surpassed herself with this fable of a girl coming into her own and challenging the boy's club at her prep school -- while falling in love with its members at the same time. Lockhart never simplifies or skirts gender issues and power dynamics, and lets Frankie be realistic instead of a treatise disguised as a character. The sly omniscient narrator tells the story perfectly, and leaves hope that maybe one girl can change the world. More novels as funny and true and perfect as this one, please.
Kathi Appelt: The Underneath
Appelt's first novel is a beautiful, magical fantasy for younger readers that will instantly become a classic. Seriously. I can imagine this book being in classrooms right alongside Charlotte's Web in a hundred years. The writing is poetic in the good way, and there's a lamia. Children are going to absolutely fall in love with Appelt's equally kind and brutal universe, where love conquers most, and it can take millenia to come to your senses.
Jincy Willett: The Writing Class
With her second novel, Willett matches the perfect pitch and execution of her brilliant short stories. Every writer will want to read this novel--very little wincing is involved, but expect a great deal of laughter. C and I found ourselves reading pieces aloud, after howling provoked the "what's so funny?" question. As with any good writing workshop or class, the characters become more appealing as you get to know them, and ultimately what she has pulled off is a satisfying mystery, and a satisfying exploration of humanity. Amy Gallup is a character to remember.
Karen Joy Fowler: Wit's End
A new novel by Karen Fowler really is something to be excited about, unlike many of the writers for whom such praise gets bandied about. (If you're smirking because you think you know something about her work from the title--not the book--The Jane Austen Book Club, please go sit in the corner and read any of her novels. You're welcome.) This is an unmystery-like mystery, concerned not so much with dead bodies--though there are plenty--as with the mysteries of healing and the heart, politics and people. How is it that a writer gets a lens on the present that's as revealing as the one she employs in historical fiction? Now that's a mystery. Highly recommended.
Steve Erickson: Zeroville
Steve Erickson novels are often like dreams, or revelations, or discovered artifacts, or written just for you. Zeroville's no different, although it is perhaps the most readily graspable example of his work to date. The Rosetta Stone is there; the secret decoder ring is a film projector. The dizzying Hollywood confidential stylings will make your inner film geek happy, but the uncovering of a truly mythic cinematic story--since cinema has existed forever--of sacrifice and redemption is even more memorable. See also: this review.
Ursula Dubosarsky: The Red Shoe (Neal Porter Books)
Set in Sydney during WWII, this wonderful novel travels between the view from inside each of three sisters. Dubosarsky perfectly captures the differences that come from being the younger, older, or middle child. Perfectly conjuring the period, and yet creating a completely accessible story, the narrative contrasts chapters focusing on the family with interstitials from the Sydney newspapers of the time, stories of polio, the H-bomb, and a defecting Russian spy (who happens to be in hiding next door). Nothing here is heavy-handed. Everything is perfectly balanced. It's a beautiful, beautiful novel. See my full take here.

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