Wednesday Reading Meme
Jan. 6th, 2021 08:18 amWhat I’ve Just Finished Reading
Priya Parker’s The Art of Gathering: How We Meet and Why It Matters was perhaps not the best book to read while still in the throes of the pandemic, as it has filled me with thoughts about how to create richer and more vibrant parties (although perhaps I could use some of the book’s suggestions at my next Zoom gathering?). The thing that stuck with me most is Parker’s idea that a gathering is a kind of art - and, as with any piece of art, you want a bang-up beginning and ending, because those have an outsized effect on what people remember and take away from your piece.
Gerald Durrell’s How to Shoot an Amateur Naturalist, in contrast, is an excellent book to read during a pandemic, as reading the book feels a bit like taking a trip round the world with Durrell as he shoots a television program called, of course, The Amateur Naturalist. Durrell visits all sorts of lovely locations (there’s a gorgeous description of the northern lights; I so want to see them some day), but I think my favorite section was the chapter describing the rich biodiversity of the humble English hedgerow.
What I’m Reading Now
I was desperate to learn how to be a reporter. The sort of person who always had a notebook in hand, ready to sniff out Political Intrigue, launch Difficult Questions at Governmental Representatives, or, best of all, leap onto the last plane to a far-off country in order to send back Vital Reports of resistance and war.
I picked up A. J. Pearce’s Dear Mrs. Bird because of![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ladyherenya’s review (and because I’m weak for any and all books set in London-in-the-Blitz), and fell in love with the narrator Emmy’s voice within the first few pages. Perhaps this is a weakness on my part, but I can’t resist Capitalization for Emphasis. Currently zipping through this and loving it; Emmy is a delight and so is her best friend Bunty.
I’ve meant to read Erich Maria Remarque’s Three Comrades ever since learning from Eleonory Gilburd’s To See Paris and Die: The Soviet Lives of Western Culture that the book was wildly popular (in translation) in the USSR. The book is set in 1930; our hero, a veteran of the First World War, has just met a girl, which has briefly jolted him out of his usual mist of ennui. Will this effect last or will he sink again into the alcohol-fueled mists of despair? Probably the latter, but we’ll see.
What I Plan to Read Next
Out of deference to my fellow library patrons who have it on hold, I ought to read Douglas Boin’s Alaric the Goth: An Outsider’s History of the Fall of Rome… but I may be seduced by Mary Renault’s The Friendly Young Ladies instead.
Priya Parker’s The Art of Gathering: How We Meet and Why It Matters was perhaps not the best book to read while still in the throes of the pandemic, as it has filled me with thoughts about how to create richer and more vibrant parties (although perhaps I could use some of the book’s suggestions at my next Zoom gathering?). The thing that stuck with me most is Parker’s idea that a gathering is a kind of art - and, as with any piece of art, you want a bang-up beginning and ending, because those have an outsized effect on what people remember and take away from your piece.
Gerald Durrell’s How to Shoot an Amateur Naturalist, in contrast, is an excellent book to read during a pandemic, as reading the book feels a bit like taking a trip round the world with Durrell as he shoots a television program called, of course, The Amateur Naturalist. Durrell visits all sorts of lovely locations (there’s a gorgeous description of the northern lights; I so want to see them some day), but I think my favorite section was the chapter describing the rich biodiversity of the humble English hedgerow.
What I’m Reading Now
I was desperate to learn how to be a reporter. The sort of person who always had a notebook in hand, ready to sniff out Political Intrigue, launch Difficult Questions at Governmental Representatives, or, best of all, leap onto the last plane to a far-off country in order to send back Vital Reports of resistance and war.
I picked up A. J. Pearce’s Dear Mrs. Bird because of
ladyherenya’s review (and because I’m weak for any and all books set in London-in-the-Blitz), and fell in love with the narrator Emmy’s voice within the first few pages. Perhaps this is a weakness on my part, but I can’t resist Capitalization for Emphasis. Currently zipping through this and loving it; Emmy is a delight and so is her best friend Bunty.I’ve meant to read Erich Maria Remarque’s Three Comrades ever since learning from Eleonory Gilburd’s To See Paris and Die: The Soviet Lives of Western Culture that the book was wildly popular (in translation) in the USSR. The book is set in 1930; our hero, a veteran of the First World War, has just met a girl, which has briefly jolted him out of his usual mist of ennui. Will this effect last or will he sink again into the alcohol-fueled mists of despair? Probably the latter, but we’ll see.
What I Plan to Read Next
Out of deference to my fellow library patrons who have it on hold, I ought to read Douglas Boin’s Alaric the Goth: An Outsider’s History of the Fall of Rome… but I may be seduced by Mary Renault’s The Friendly Young Ladies instead.
