Shaken & Stirred: Ear(gasm*)

December 07, 2007

Ear(gasm*)

While we were in Jamaica, I thought of the Banana Boat Song not at all, which is odd since it's classic and Jamaican and we indulged in more than a drink of rum. (We were also doing quite a bit of the work all day -- Holly has tallied the group result at two novels, plotting and outlining for two more, a short story written, and several other short stories started -- plus, a proposal thing was finished in addition to all that, I believe.)

But, beginning at the airport, I now can think of no other song. I hum it, and sing a few bars, and I'm pretty sure it's holed up deep in my ear canal, like seawater in some other people's. I guess the only thing to be done is add Beetlejuice to the Netflix queue.

*With apologies to Maureen; I just couldn't help myself.

Posted at 03:47 PM in Nattering | Permalink

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That's not an Eargasm! In fact, now I'm trying to think of how to get out of this post without 1. outing the two guys I know who stick Q Tips in their ears to clean them and close their eyes in ecstasy and 2. getting "The Banana Boat" song stuck in my head, which is an Earworm. And a nasty one.

Posted by:Maureen McQ | December 07, 2007 at 05:45 PM

Then I hope I get extra credit for the fact that I was thinking of "Jamaica 'Sad to say/I'm on my way/ Won't be back for many's the day' Farewell" ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jamaica_Farewell ) pretty much the entire time we were there, but I never, ever, ever let it out by even so much as a soft hum, so fearful was I of infecting the rest of yez.

Respect.

Posted by:ellen kushner | December 07, 2007 at 09:38 PM

I bow at your self-sacrifice!

Posted by:Gwenda | December 07, 2007 at 10:56 PM

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Appendices

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.