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Windows in Paris
photo by Amy Brandon |
I've read three books and made headway in three others since I last blogged. I don't find that I am able or willing to write an entire post about every book I read. Number one, this would take away too much reading time, and number two, not every book deserves a post. I read
The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley because I liked the title and because I'd seen other bloggers reading it last year. Almost the entire time I was reading it, I was trying to figure out when the story was actually going to begin, even at the end. Not one of my favorites. I followed that up with
The Winter Queen by Boris Akunin, which I so thoroughly enjoyed that I ordered the sequel from Amazon as soon as I read the last (infuriating!) paragraph. During the weekend that I was reading
The Winter Queen, I watched North Carolina Bookwatch with DG Martin and caught his interview with Sheila Turnage, so I ordered her new book,
Three Times Lucky. It's marketed for kids, and it's definitely an easy read, but it's worth any adult's time who needs an afternoon's entertainment.
For the last several months, I've been picking up and putting down and plowing my way slowly through
Les Miserable. I first started the book on Kindle because of its physical size and the difficulty of holding up the novel, but I found that I had trouble getting swept up in the digital form, so I ordered the beautiful Penguin cloth-covered hardback classic and am now reading it. Since I've switched, I've discovered that part of the problem with the Kindle version I had was the clunky, unappealing translation. The Penguin, while causing carpal tunnel, is much more appealing all the way around. The shocking news is that I am a 45 year old literature major who loves musicals, and I DO NOT know the plot of Les Mis at all! I know, I know... where have I been? It's fun to read it for the first time at this age, though.
I am also reading
Natasha's Dance: A Cultural History of Russia by Orlando Figes, in preparation for some more Russian reading, which I am loving, and
Freedom by Jonathan Franzen, to which I am having a mixed reaction. Franzen can definitely write, and
Freedom grabs you on page one and doesn't want to let go, but I get overwhelmed and impatient with whiny, self-absorbed navel-gazers in my every day life, so I have to take this one, which seems full of these people, in small doses. It feels a lot like reading the thoughts of too many people I know and don't like. Franzen does have that uncanny ability of good novelists to suck you into his time and culture, which unfortunately is also my time and culture. As I said, his writing is really the star of this one.
So, with all that covered, back to Les Mis and the Battle of Waterloo. Reading time, finally. Yay!