In most of my high school literature classes, at some point we would be called on to do what was called a book project. This involved choosing one of the books we'd read during the class, or sometimes more than one book, and creating something that somehow was inspired by or embodied that book. A drawing, a painting, maybe a series of photographs, sculpture, food, something sewn, that sort of thing. It was a sort of antidote to the idea of writing book reports. The teacher (a generally fabulous person) had a story about her son, writing book reports in high school, where he'd told her that the key to writing one was to pass your hand across the cover, read the blurb on the back, and if it was for an honors class read the first page, and then write the report. Consequentially, I never had to write one.
To be honest, I can't actually think of many examples of book projects I did. I did a couple of drawings to go with Susan Cooper's Over Sea, Under Stone, and we once all brought in food to represent various Jane Austen characters, but that's all I can remember. Now, though, I'm contemplating taking up the practice of doing book projects. Probably not to be continued beyond this summer, and maybe not for every book, but it would be nice to do this to cement what I've read in my brain.
Most of the projects that suggest themselves to me for books I've read recently involve food. Diary of a Provincial Lady would get something weird and English. For Marking Time I'm contemplating making some kind of dessert, maybe a tart or something similar, the kind of thing they learn to make in cooking classes. I've been wanting to bake lately, anyway. Bloodhound could be represented by clothing, or perhaps jewellery, either way brightly coloured and with orange tones, as it's really a very vivid book.
Who knows if I actually go through with this plan, but it's definitely something I'll be thinking about.
Showing posts with label e.m. delafield. Show all posts
Showing posts with label e.m. delafield. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Diary of an Urban lady upon reading about a Provincial one
I have made another step towards catching up with what the rest of the book blogging world has already read, and finished Diary of a Provincial Lady, by E.M. Delafield. Very much liked it, though I am possibly not as enthusiastic about this as some.
It reminded me forcefully of Bridget Jones's Diary, and I am left with the impression that Helen Fielding had read this before writing that. They have very definite qualities in common, and are rather interesting in comparison. We get in these two books a picture of what it is like to be thirty-something in 1931, and what it is like to be thirty-something in the 1990s, and the difference in years produces rather a large difference in situations of the two characters. The narrators of these two diaries are very similar despite their situational differences, though, both with a certain inability to make things come out quite as hoped for. The style is also similar, that habit of abridging sentences to
remove various pronouns and conjunctions which is extremely catching. One rather comes out of the book with a tendency to attempt wittier ways of speech, which is a bit funny as the Provincial Lady's witticisms always seem to fail (though possibly this is the fault of her listeners and not herself). One also comes out knowing her very well, though she is the only character in the book without a distinct portrait, and without even a name.
The illustrations by Arthur Watts are a nice addition to the book, especially with their prevailing and unnatural long-leggedness. I was rather amused, too, by the numerous mentions of food (Provincial Lady is always wishing her own house's food was like other people's), as it is all the sort of bizarre English food that one is a bit frightened of ever encountering and having to wonder what exactly it is. I like the way the Provincial Lady observes things and takes note of them, and then simply moves on to more practical things like the children and the servants. She never takes herself too seriously, and thus neither does the book, which is rather nice sometimes when one often reads things that do. I like all her parenthetical notes to self and queries and memorandums and whatnot, such as: "Query: Is not a common hate one of the strongest links in human nature? Answer, most regrettably, in the affirmative."
This was rather a speedy little read. It's 388 pages but the margins are absolutely enormous, and it's always rather nice to finish a book almost in two sittings. I'll probably be on the look-out to buy the book's various sequels if I see them in thrift-shops, though they're not going straight onto my reading list.
And can someone please tell me why I seem to have zero ability to type the world "provincial" correctly on the first try? It always comes out "provinical." (And of course the one time I purposely try to spell it wrong it comes out right.)
It reminded me forcefully of Bridget Jones's Diary, and I am left with the impression that Helen Fielding had read this before writing that. They have very definite qualities in common, and are rather interesting in comparison. We get in these two books a picture of what it is like to be thirty-something in 1931, and what it is like to be thirty-something in the 1990s, and the difference in years produces rather a large difference in situations of the two characters. The narrators of these two diaries are very similar despite their situational differences, though, both with a certain inability to make things come out quite as hoped for. The style is also similar, that habit of abridging sentences to
remove various pronouns and conjunctions which is extremely catching. One rather comes out of the book with a tendency to attempt wittier ways of speech, which is a bit funny as the Provincial Lady's witticisms always seem to fail (though possibly this is the fault of her listeners and not herself). One also comes out knowing her very well, though she is the only character in the book without a distinct portrait, and without even a name.The illustrations by Arthur Watts are a nice addition to the book, especially with their prevailing and unnatural long-leggedness. I was rather amused, too, by the numerous mentions of food (Provincial Lady is always wishing her own house's food was like other people's), as it is all the sort of bizarre English food that one is a bit frightened of ever encountering and having to wonder what exactly it is. I like the way the Provincial Lady observes things and takes note of them, and then simply moves on to more practical things like the children and the servants. She never takes herself too seriously, and thus neither does the book, which is rather nice sometimes when one often reads things that do. I like all her parenthetical notes to self and queries and memorandums and whatnot, such as: "Query: Is not a common hate one of the strongest links in human nature? Answer, most regrettably, in the affirmative."
This was rather a speedy little read. It's 388 pages but the margins are absolutely enormous, and it's always rather nice to finish a book almost in two sittings. I'll probably be on the look-out to buy the book's various sequels if I see them in thrift-shops, though they're not going straight onto my reading list.
And can someone please tell me why I seem to have zero ability to type the world "provincial" correctly on the first try? It always comes out "provinical." (And of course the one time I purposely try to spell it wrong it comes out right.)
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Heat Wave
This has been the craziest year for weather ever. Oh, climate change. We had snow for a week in December, and now we've had a week 
of ridiculously hot weather. And by ridiculous, I mean record breaking. I live in Seattle. We are known for rain. We do not have extreme weather. And yet, it has been hovering around the 100 degrees mark. Wednesday, it got the hottest it ever has, at 103.
I've been swimming every day (sometimes twice), been to five different beaches, hung out in a friend's basement, eaten a lot of popsicles and ice cream, and in general managed to stay surprisingly cool. Still, one should not be able to walk around in shorts and t-shirt in the middle of the night.
What does one choose to read in weather this crazy? I've found watching TV makes it feel hotter, and I've no doubt some choice of books would have the same effect. Do you read books set in cold climates, or books set in the desert? Last summer I read The English Patient, and was glad I'd read it in summer, with its settings
of Italy and North African desert. I'm inclined to think hot books are better for hot weather, especially if it's hotter there than it is here. Cold books just make you envious.
Of course, my current reading is England in fall and winter (Diary of a Provincial Lady and Marking Time), so I've not exactly chosen hot books. Diary of a Provincial Lady is at least rather short and sweet, which I am inclined to think is better for this weather. You don't really want page-long paragraphs, which leave you sweaty and gasping for breath at the end. Anything with short chapters, short diary entries, short sentences, seems preferable. Poetry, too, is good hot weather reading. I am inclined, again to turn to Michael Ondaatje, and read his poems. The Cinnamon Peeler is a book I've been halfway through for ages, and as it's poetry I could pick it up again at any time. The idea is very much starting to appeal.
Look at all the poor dead grass in my back yard. It's like straw on the ground, it's so flat. The grape vine, tomatoes, and flowers are all flourishing, though.
of ridiculously hot weather. And by ridiculous, I mean record breaking. I live in Seattle. We are known for rain. We do not have extreme weather. And yet, it has been hovering around the 100 degrees mark. Wednesday, it got the hottest it ever has, at 103.I've been swimming every day (sometimes twice), been to five different beaches, hung out in a friend's basement, eaten a lot of popsicles and ice cream, and in general managed to stay surprisingly cool. Still, one should not be able to walk around in shorts and t-shirt in the middle of the night.
What does one choose to read in weather this crazy? I've found watching TV makes it feel hotter, and I've no doubt some choice of books would have the same effect. Do you read books set in cold climates, or books set in the desert? Last summer I read The English Patient, and was glad I'd read it in summer, with its settings
of Italy and North African desert. I'm inclined to think hot books are better for hot weather, especially if it's hotter there than it is here. Cold books just make you envious.Of course, my current reading is England in fall and winter (Diary of a Provincial Lady and Marking Time), so I've not exactly chosen hot books. Diary of a Provincial Lady is at least rather short and sweet, which I am inclined to think is better for this weather. You don't really want page-long paragraphs, which leave you sweaty and gasping for breath at the end. Anything with short chapters, short diary entries, short sentences, seems preferable. Poetry, too, is good hot weather reading. I am inclined, again to turn to Michael Ondaatje, and read his poems. The Cinnamon Peeler is a book I've been halfway through for ages, and as it's poetry I could pick it up again at any time. The idea is very much starting to appeal.
Look at all the poor dead grass in my back yard. It's like straw on the ground, it's so flat. The grape vine, tomatoes, and flowers are all flourishing, though.
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