two-wheeled thoughts: A.L. Anderson

two-wheeled thoughts

In olden times the women rode
As fitted one of subject mind:
Her lord and master sat before,
She on a pillion sat behind.
But now upon her flying wheel
She holds her independent way,
And when she rides a race with man,
‘Tis even chance she wins the day.
–A.L. Anderson, as quoted in Around the World on Two Wheels

Little Free Library


Thanks to Shelf Awareness, I discovered something called the Little Free Library today. I am excited and inspired by this concept. Go look around the website at some of the beautiful and artistic versions – but the basic concept is a tiny little box of books on a post, in a neighborhood somewhere, where folks can take-a-book, leave-a-book. I want to play! I’m ready to pay the $50 to “join the club,” and I’m hoping to get Husband to help with the carpentry side of things. If you live in Houston: would you help by donating a few books? Used is fine, of course. And, what location do you like? I’m thinking Lindale Park or the Heights. I wonder how you keep the city from being upset with you for constructing things on public land, though.

Teaser Tuesdays: The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just open your current read to a random page and share a few sentences. Be careful not to include spoilers!


I am tackling another classic, this time via audiobook in the car. Unabridged, of course! Here is your teaser. Happy Tuesday.

I remember her bringing me up to a truculent and red-faced old gentleman covered all over with orders and ribbons, and hissing into my ear, in a tragic whisper which must have been perfectly audible to everybody in the room, the most astounding details. I simply fled.

Gone with the Wind part 1 (ch. 1-7)

Oh my. Am I ever glad that I have finally begun to read this book! I shouldn’t have waited so long. It IS a chunkster, and I AM busy right now. But what a book.

How did I get here?

The Great Gone with the Wind Readalong is hosted by The Heroine’s Bookshelf blog. This is what finally prompted me to read a book that’s been on my list for years. Thank you so much, Heroine.

Where am I coming from?

I feel like this is weird, but I have never read this book, never seen the movie, and had only the slightest and vaguest idea what it was about. All this, and I am a Southerner (to the extent that a Houstonian is a Southerner… that’s a different post). In my mind, this book is a little bit crossed with The Glass Menagerie. I don’t know why. I read the latter, in high school, although I do not seem to have a lasting impression of it. I think I did admire it; I remember the glass menagerie itself; I remember the suitors and my frustration with the mother. But there are some blurry lines between the one masterpiece of Southern-set fiction which I have never read, and the one I have. By the end of this readalong I certainly expect to have that cleared up!

What’s the drill?

Erin of The Heroine’s Bookshelf is hosting this readalong that involves 5 discussion dates, by which we will all have read 5 sections of the book. I am doing my best to pace myself so that the section in question is still fresh when the discussion comes along. So, we can all hop over there to join in a discussion, which I certainly will. But! I have my thoughts to share with you here, too.

What do I think so far?

This is an extraordinary work, just in the sense of evocative description, Mitchell’s ability to place me firmly in the time-and-place. At the end of the first page, I was hooked and admiring. She chooses very unique adverbs that draw my attention and let me see what she sees. The twins’ “long legs, booted to the knee and thick with saddle muscles, [were] crossed negligently.” Crossed negligently? She could have spent a paragraph trying to tell me what she has shown with that one adverb. “They were as much alike as two bolls of cotton.” Or earlier, Scarlett’s “green eyes in the carefully sweet face were turbulent, willful, lusty with life, distinctly at variance with her decorous demeanor,” because “her true self was poorly concealed.” I already feel like I know a great deal about all 3 of these characters – with no dialogue – and all this on page one! I’m all the way in.

As promised (threatened?) by Erin, I was indeed tempted to just rush past this first section and keep going. I’ve decided to stick with the schedule, though, which allows me to read other books in between. Part one was delightful, and able to stand alone, at least for a bit. I got to know Scarlett, appreciated her odd and not completely likeable personality and traits. This is a good stopping point, as a chapter of her life ends; part two will clearly begin the next. I look forward to it.

Please be sure to stop by the hosted readalong discussion, too.

Othello by William Shakespeare

Wow, what a work. There’s a reason we still read, admire, study, and act this play today, what, 4 centuries after its creation. I read this, like The Taming of the Shrew, years ago, but I needed the refresher for the performance I’m going to see tonight.

What can I say about Othello? Othello is “the Moor,” a general in the Venetian army. He has happily married the beautiful Desdemona, and they have set out together to Cyprus where Othello has been posted. They are a happy and loving couple, but Shakespeare gives them a tragic fate. There are men about who do not wish them well. Iago is the main villain; he is jealous of Cassio, who Othello chooses as a second in command. He uses Rodrigo, who wanted to marry Desdemona, as a pawn. Iago tricks Othello, who believes him to be a faithful friend, into thinking that Desdemona and Cassio are lovers. He convinces Rodrigo that Desdemona will be his if he will just kill Cassio; really, Iago wants them both dead, and also encourages Othello to kill his wife. His intention is to gain himself political power. He also uses his wife, Emilia, servant to Desdemona. The handkerchief is the fateful detail: Othello gave it to Desdemona; Iago obtains it and plants it on Cassio; and it seals the innocent, saintly Desdemona’s fate. The final tragic scene ends with Othello’s murder of Desdemona, his discovery of Iago’s treachery, and his suicide.

It is classic Shakespearean tragedy, reminiscent of Romeo and Juliet in that final scene as Othello laments over his beloved wife’s body. The important difference, of course, is that there was no murder in Romeo and Juliet; Othello cannot be an entirely sympathetic character. It is especially frustrating to hear the faithful Emilia argue Desdemona’s innocence and have Othello reject it. But Iago, as I said, is the real villain; Othello is victim to his machinations.

I enjoyed this play all over again and always recommend it, as I do all of Shakespeare’s work. I’ve always been a big fan. I tend to think that I prefer the comedies, but in rereading his tragedies I find the same genius and the same ability to wrench my emotions in the desired direction. He was truly a great artist. I do have a fondness for the comedies, though; I forget, until I see or read them again, how accessible and universal the humor is. Last summer I went to A Midsummer Night’s Dream as produced by the Houston Shakespeare Festival, and marveled, once more, at how appealing, funny, and fun it is. Please! If you’re in Houston, don’t miss this annual summer event. Again, this year they’re producing Othello and The Taming of the Shrew, and it’s FREE, and you can sit on the hill with your dog and/or your picnic dinner and/or your beer, wine, whatever. Couldn’t be better. Check out the Miller Outdoor Theatre schedule for details.

The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare

I am sure I have read this play before, because I have some vague memory of it; but I don’t know when. My reread is inspired by the Houston Shakespeare Festival: I’m going to go see both this, and Othello, in the next week. Fellow Houstonians, don’t miss this event! These two plays are both showing 4-5 times, in the next 8 days or so, at Miller Outdoor Theatre. For FREE. It’s an awesome summer tradition; I’ve been attending the Shakespeare Fest every summer since I was small. Don’t think I’m going to find time to reread Othello, sadly.

So. The Taming of the Shrew is not one of Shakespeare’s most famous plays (and was rather hard to find at Half Price Books. Lots of Macbeth, Romeo and Juliet, Midsummer Night’s Dream. Thus my very sweet, but visually unstimulating, little Yale Shakespeare blue cloth-bound hardback, pictured), but I think it’s a nice little romp. It’s a comedy involving two sisters: Bianca, the younger, has several suitors; she is attractive and admired. Her older sister Katherina, however, is very difficult, sharp-tongued, scolding, and generally unattractive to prospective suitors. Their father Baptista forbids any suitors to Bianca until such time as Katherina is married. I’m not entirely clear on whether it was his express intention or not, but the result of this is that Bianca’s suitors set out looking for a husband for Katherina, aka the shrew. They find a willing suitor, Petruchio, who feels that Kate’s wealth is worth the fight, and he has a plan. Thus the title: Petruchio sets out to tame the shrew, using such ugly, abusive, domineering, insane behavior that she gives up being “shrewish” and submits to his every desire, agreeing with any crazy thing he says. (The sun is the moon. An old man is a beautiful young maiden. Yes, husband, anything you say.) Petruchio weds, and tames, Kate; sundry other characters wed too. Lucentio marries Bianca, and Hortensio marries a widow (also for her money). The three new husbands make a bet on their wives, as to who can be shown to be most obedient. Petruchio’s reformed shrew wins him the bet, and she ends the play with a speech arguing that a woman should serve and obey her “lord” (husband).

There has been much controversy over this play, pretty much since it was born, regarding gender/marital roles, misogyny, feminism. I’m a bit inclined to agree with the camp that says Shakespeare was actually on the women’s side and was being instructively tongue-in-cheek, but mostly I’m willing to sit back and hear what you think; I don’t find it entirely clear what Shakespeare had in mind, from this distance. (I never did finish Fraser’s Young Shakespeare and thus have not started his Shakespeare: The Later Years. I found the writing awfully dry. If I ever finish these, or find a more palatable biography, perhaps I’ll take a stab at pretending I know what he had in mind. Until then, I am agnostic on this point.) At any rate, it’s an interesting study. Yes, Petruchio’s treatment of Kate is offensive; yes, her final speech makes me shiver. But she wasn’t a respectably independent woman early on; she was just kind of bitchy. Neither of them is sympathetic. So, it’s not as clear-cut as, Petruchio destroys Kate’s fine and virtous strong-woman spirit, or anything.

At any rate, I’m almost certain the upcoming performance will be the first time I’ve seen this play onstage, and I look forward to seeing how the Festival handles the political problems of The Taming of the Shrew. You can expect to see my write-up of the show soon.

Anybody read this play? How do you react to the chauvinism?

book beginnings on Friday: Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell

Thanks to Katy at A Few More Pages for hosting this meme. To participate, share the first line or two of the book you are currently reading and, if you feel so moved, let us know what your first impressions were based on that first line.

I know, I know. But I’ve never read it! I’m in good company, too, because I’m reading this one with The Heroine’s Bookshelf‘s readalong. It’s not too late to join in! (Okay, you might be a bit behind, because the discussion of the first 7 chapters is Monday. It is possible.) I’m very excited.

Beginning:

Scarlett O’Hara was not beautiful, but men seldom realized it when caught by her charm as the Tarleton twins were. In her face were too sharply blended the delicate features of her mother, a Coast aristocrat of French descent, and the heavy ones of her florid Irish father.

There you have it; we’ve met our lady. Have you read this book? Care to join us?

fitting it all in

This is a lovely problem to have, in the scheme of things, I think. I have too many reading materials! Here am I with a pen & paper, trying to plan & schedule how I will get all of these read in the time allotted. Sigh. Here’s what I’m up to these days…

Don Quixote, by Cervantes, trans. J.M. Cohen

I’m pleased with myself for getting into this chunky classic, and a bit surprised at what easy reading I’m finding it. Quite entertaining, in fact. But unfortunately, due to other commitments (ahem, a number of galleys and 1 scheduled readalong) I think it will have to be put down for a little while! Luckily, it reads as a series of short adventures and therefore I think it will tolerate being put down and picked up pretty well.

The Female Quixote, by Charlotte Lennox

To follow on the heels of Don Quixote, hopefully quickly. Don’t know what I’m getting into but I’ve been excited about the idea of this companion-read for quite a while.

Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell

The Great Gone With the Wind Readalong is being hosted by The Heroine’s Bookshelf‘s blog. I have been meaning to read this book for the last several years (and funny that I made it that far in life without putting it on the list any earlier). I tried to resist the temptation of this readalong, but I couldn’t do it. I like Blakemore’s approach to the rest of the books in The Heroine’s Bookshelf, that I have read, and I like the idea of having companions. So here we go, kids. This is when my reading plate begins to look perhaps a bit overfull, because…

I have some galleys to review, too.

Hemingway’s Boat: Everything He Loved in Life, and Lost, 1934-1961, by Paul Hendrickson

If you’ve been reading my blog for any time at all you’re probably aware that I adore Hemingway’s writing and am fascinated by his life. I’m so excited about this one!

On Bicycles: 50 Ways the New Bike Culture Can Change Your Life, by Amy Walker (Editor)

Another based on my personal affinity, this time for bicycles. I don’t know much about this book but hope to find it wonderful.

The Barbarian Nurseries, by Héctor Tobar

A novel of multicultural Los Angeles and hidden family histories.

Into the Silence: The Great War, Mallory, and the Conquest of Everest, by Wade Davis

The product description claims, “Beautifully written and rich with detail, Into the Silence is a classic account of exploration and mountaineering, and a timeless portrait of a few iconic men.” That was enough to get me interested.

Belzoni: The Giant Archaeologists Love to Hate, by Ivor Noël Hume

A Bitter Truth: A Bess Crawford Mystery, by Charles Todd

Dancing with the Queen, Marching with King: The Memoirs of Alexander “Sam” Aldrich, by Sam Aldrich

Shambles, by Debra Monroe

On the Outskirts of Normal, by Debra Monroe

Defensive Wounds: A Novel of Suspense, by Lisa Black

…and I’m also trying to reread Othello and The Taming of the Shrew before I go see both plays in the next week and a half.

Whew! That should keep me busy! What are you reading lately? Any of these excite you?

Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead by Barbara Comyns

Thank you so much to Simon from Stuck in a Book for this recommendation. Your future recommendations will be heeded!

Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead is an odd book, a short book, a unique book, and a very enjoyable way to spend an hour or two of your time. The setting is Warwickshire, “about seventy years ago” – published in 1954, so call it the 1880’s. We are mostly concerned with the Willoweed family. The grandmother is rather hateful and gluttonous and deaf; her son, Ebin, is cowed and unsympathetic as well. He has three children who are not in school, but who drift through the Willoweed estate trying to avoid unpleasantness. The town at large plays a role, as well as the Willoweeds’ domestic servants.

The book opens with a flood that disrupts normal life – “the maids pinned their skirts up high and splashed about in the water trying to prepare breakfast.” There are deaths, and then there are more deaths, and then it becomes clear that a plague of sorts has descended upon this sleepy town, which gives Grandmother Willoweed great pleasure. These deaths are treated less as tragedies than as facts of life, no more or less important than the deaths of the hens in the flood at the beginning of the book.

I haven’t given you much of a plot synopsis here, but that’s because the plot isn’t really the point. Things happen to the various characters, rather than them initiating action. But the unique thing about Comyns’ writing is that this book is not necessarily about Things Happening To People, as is usually the case in books. Rather, every event, large and small, and every observation, is treated with equal weight. The descriptions are brief and striking and evocative. The tone is really something different and special; I appreciate this writer’s ability to bring real interest and consideration to items and events that are mundane, or in other cases, horrifying, but in a democratic fashion.

An odd but fascinating book, short and easy to read: I started it in the airport in San Diego and was finished less than halfway into the flight home to Houston. I recommend it, and will be seeking more Comyns. Thanks Simon!

Teaser Tuesdays: The Scroll by Grant R. Jeffrey

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just open your current read to a random page and share a few sentences. Be careful not to include spoilers!

Your teaser today comes from page 102.

Amber had always been an early riser. It was a family trait and one nurtured by many seasons spent digging in very hot climes. The best digging was done before the sun had time to scorch the cool from the day.

So Amber is clearly an archeologist, as is our protagonist, David. This one is shaping up interestingly: it’s a thriller involving archeological digs in the Middle East with biblical implications as well as current political ones.

This quotation comes from an uncorrected advance proof and is subject to change.