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This summer reading list in NY Mag looks awesome! Why is there never enough time to read?

Some that caught my eye are:
 In the Land of Invented Languages by Arika Okrent, which is about all the failed attempts to create a universal language.
The Food of a Younger Land by Mark Kurlansky, which documents local American cuisine through the thirties and forties.
Newton and the Counterfeiter by Thomas Levenson, which lets us final see Sir Isaac Newton as a badass London supercop.

And, I final landed on a title to read. Go me! Speaking of which, apparently Gabrial Garcia Marquez was a huge admirer of the book The Master and Margarita. Makes me want to read the book even more now.

What you kids got on hand to read this summer?

 
 
 
 
 
 
Now I want to drop everything I'm in the middle of reading and leap into the pages of one of two Russian novels: The Master and Margarita or War and Peace. Yes, I suddenly have the urge to try Tolstoy again. I'm so changeable.

Maybe I should just go finish watching Brideshead Revisited. Hey, did you all know Evelyn Waugh's a guy?! Surprised me.
 
 
 
 
 
 
I'm stuck in between three books right now:

Death of a Murderer by Rupert Thomas
Tree of Smoke by Dennis Johnson
Women Who Run With Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estes

And, I feel like picking up and trying War and Peace again. And I've got a WHOLE pile that are just staring at me, wondering why I'm not reading them. :-p

So if you too, like me, just find yourself treading the pages of several titles right now, here are some fun book links:

http://paintalicious.org/2008/11/20/thomas-allens-book-art-photography
Artist Thoman Allen cuts up vintage book covers to make fun dioramas.

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB124173896716198603.html
Saving literary treasures with e-books.

http://journal.bookfinder.com/2009/05/worst-mothers-in-literature.html

Worst moms in literature. I don't know if I would agree with them all. I'd also add Cathy Ames from East of Eden.

http://www.stepheniemeyer.com/midnightsun.html
Read Twilight all over again except this time get inside Edward's head! You know you want to.

Complete not-litearary-but-somewhat-related link that is awesome.
http://whatchuckwore.tumblr.com/
I have to admit, I've read the snippets of the books.

 
 
 
 
 
 
From Time:

"At Le Mars, Iowa, the probated will of T. M. Zink, deceased attorney, revealed:1) His $100,000 estate is to be placed in trust for 75 years; 2) In A. D. 2005 the accumulated principal is to be used to establish, equip and maintain a library on whose shelves will be no woman author, on whose catalogs will be no woman's name, over whose portal will blaze: "No Women Admitted"; 3) To his daughter went $5; 4) To his widow not 1¢."


Only a little scribble by Felix Feneon could go with this. Although it may be more dark.

From Novels in Three Lines

Schied, of Dunkirk, fired three times at his wife. Since he missed every shot, he decided to aim at his mother-in-law, and connected.

Since Delorce left her, Cecile Ward had refused to take him back unless he married her. Finding this stipulation unacceptable, he stabbed her.

In Oyonneax, Mlle. Cottet, eighteen, threw acid in the face of M. Besnard, twenty-five. Love, obviously.
 



 
 
 
 
 
 
"Where the Sidewalk Ends"

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends. 
By Shel Silverstein
 
 
 
 
 
 
The Old-Clothes Woman

The piercing eye with which you see
What they contain essentially
Separates my rags from me
And naked I go as a deity.

by Stephane Mallarme
 
 
 
 
 
 
Listening to NPR today, I learned Chicago had officially declared April 23, 2009 as Talk-Like-Shakespeare Day! It was to honor the 400-something birthday of the bard. It was pretty awesome to hear the audio clip where a city councilwoman used Shakespearean English to launch a proposal by Walmart.

But this also reminded me that April was National Poetry Month. Faithful readers of this livejournal will undoubtedly have noticed that I've posted lots of poetry reviews lately. Can't help it. And I know I'm a little late to the parade, but I'm going to try and post a few poems I <3 before the month is donel.  Feel free to add your own post too!

"His Grief" from Orpheus & Eurydice

With my words
I'll make rocks
weep and trees
toss down
their branches
in despair.
In its heart
each object
guards a tear
so round
and absolute
it mirrors all
the passing scene.
Those clear globes
are souls
of things.

I want to shatter
them. I want
to make them sing.

By Gregory Orr