osprey_archer: (books)
What I’ve Just Finished Reading

Frans de Waal’s Are We Smart Enough to Know How Smart Animals Are?, which has made me want to read his other books, of which there are many… because if there’s one thing I need, it’s a new author to follow, right?

I put off reading Corrie ten Boom’s The Hiding Place because I got the impression somewhere that it was a self-righteous tract about how lying is always a sin, even if you’re lying to the Nazis to protect the Jews hidden in your attic. But now that I’ve read it I’m pretty sure this is actually just the way some Evangelical readers interpret the book, because Corrie had some relatives who followed this philosophy and it worked out for them, through either divine intervention or luck, depending on your view.

Corrie herself lies when necessary, although with pangs of conscience, because she had been raised in the belief system that lying is always wrong. But she doesn’t only lie when forced to it, but actually practices lying: the family shakes her awake at midnight to simulate a possible arrest by the Nazis, so she’ll have practice answering “We have no Jews here” rather than mumbling, groggy and disoriented, “Oh, they’re behind the false wall.”

Willa Cather’s My Antonia is another book I put off reading, in this case because I had the impression that Antonia gets raped at some point in the book, which also turns out to be incorrect. Maybe I should try to stop gathering impressions of books that I haven’t read, although probably it’s not entirely avoidable.

But actually in this case the delay worked out well, because I don’t think I would have appreciated the book as much when I was younger. It’s a slow book, with a lot of description of the Nebraska prairies and the different immigrant groups settling the country and not a lot of action: the narrator, Jim Burden, is often an onlooker rather than a participant, a little bit in love with Antonia and some of her friends (also strong immigrant girls), but not so much that the book ever becomes a love story. Or rather, it’s about love of a time and a place rather than a person.

What I’m Reading Now

The very first chapter of Lisa See’s The Island of Sea Women burnt up my hope that maybe the heroines would remain friends for the entire book, but it also got me all invested so I kept reading. All of See’s books seem to have this ur-scene where the heroines’ friendship shatters when they confront each other over some great betrayal - I don’t know why she feels the need to repeat it over and over, but I should probably just accept it and stop hoping for something else.

And although it does share this tic with See’s other work, this book is one of her best - perhaps not quite up there with Snow Flower and the Secret Fan, but then that is the first See book I read so it may have an unfair advantage. The Island of Sea Women is set on Jeju Island, where women deep sea divers are traditionally the main support for their families, and this portrayal of a traditional society where women have a lot more power and freedom than in many traditional societies is so interesting.

I’ve also been reading Dorothy Sayers’ Murder Must Advertise, which is an unexpectedly delightful look at office culture in interwar Britain. Lord Peter has taken a job as a copy writer for an advertising firm in order to investigate a murder, using his two middle names, Death Bredon, and yes Dorothy Sayers did in fact give her detective the name Death, Lord Peter is the Most Extra and I love it.

What I Plan to Read Next

[personal profile] evelyn_b, we had talked about maybe reading Kristin Lavransdattar in tandem. Are you still interested? I’ve acquired a copy, so we could start whenever is convenient for you.

I’ve also realized that Andrea Cheng’s The Year of the Book, which I read last year, is in fact the first book of a five-book series (although alas there will be no more after that: Cheng died a few years ago), so now I want to read them all.
osprey_archer: (Default)
What I’ve Just Finished Reading

Lee Israel’s Can You Ever Forgive Me?: Memoirs of a Literary Forger, which I put on hold months ago (after I saw the movie) but leapt on with as much enthusiasm as if I’d only requested it yesterday. A great companion piece to the movie: the movie fleshes out Israel’s character a bit more, but the book has more salty literary gossip (some of it forged, of course, although Israel did try to make her forgeries accord with the their subjects’ known opinions).

Israel has a particular affinity for snarky gossip about celebrities - probably in part because this sells well to letter dealers, but also perhaps because she seems pretty snarky herself. I particularly enjoyed the joke about the the actress who married Cary Grant and then divorced him, because “she got tired of sleeping in the middle - with Randolph Scott on the other side.”

I also read Liudmilla Pertrushevskaya’s The Girl from the Metropole Hotel: Growing Up in Communist Russia more or less instantly upon learning of its existence. It’s a childhood memoir (already one of my favorite genres) about growing up in the Soviet Union during World War II as part of an Old Bolshevik family that had lost most of its status during the Great Purge of 1937, when many family members were arrested. She was born in the Metropole Hotel but within the first five years of her life descended to such poverty that she stole food out of the more prosperous neighbors’ trash, and one night remained mesmerized by the trash can at the sight of the neighbor girls’ carelessly discarded dolls.

This may make it sound like a grim morass of misery, but it isn’t at all. There’s a sort of fairy tale feel to the book that gives a sense of remove from the events; after all, Petrushevskaya is a writer of a fairy tales, and co-wrote the animated film Tale of Tales. Her memoir is a series of vignettes that dance lightly between bedbugs and attempted gang rapes and the magical night that she snuck into the opera and watched, spellbound, from the rafters.

I also finished Shirley Jackson’s Raising Demons, which has only made me want to read the recent Jackson biography more for purposes of comparison, but I really think I’ll get more out of it if I finish reading at least her novels first (I’m not holding out to finish all the short stories). I’ve still got The Road Through the Wall, The Bird’s Nest, and The Sundial.

What I’m Reading Now

Frans de Waal’s Are We Smart Enough to Know How Smart Animals Are?, which is less deliciously snarky the Carl Safina’s Beyond Words but just as chock full of wonderful anecdotes - not only about animal behavior, but about the major players in the animal intelligence debates in the twentieth century, many of whom de Waal knew personally. My favorite story so far is the part where B. F. Skinner and his colleagues try to take over a primate facility to make it into an operant conditioning laboratory, which involved cutting the chimpanzees’ food to starvation rations, only Skinner was foiled (rumor has it) because the staff kept feeding the chimpanzees on the sly at night because they felt so bad for them.

The more I read about B. F. Skinner the more disturbing he seems.

I’ve also begun Willa Cather’s My Antonia, although I’m not far enough in to have anything more in depth to say than that Cather is awfully good at describing prairies. I’m not usually much for lengthy nature description, but she makes it so clear that you can see it.

What I Plan to Read Next

One of my classmates from college published a book, The Far Field, and I thought it would be nice to read it because I knew her slightly… and then it occurred to me that the book would also fit my reading challenge for “a book outside your (genre) comfort zone,” so it’s happening.

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