Kategori: Aardwolf – one hit wonders

Lost for Words – John Humphrys

Mirthful

There seems to be a bit of a red thread going on here, what with all these language-related books, and you might suspect I have been influenced by working at the department of language and communication studies. Which I have, I’m sure. You can’t just blame my employer, though, as we got John Humphrys’ Lost for Words: The Mangling and Manipulating of the English Language in a three for two sale (or something) while on our honeymoon this summer, and I hadn’t started the job then. You might blame my employer for the fact that I’ve just read the book, though, I suppose.

Anyway, Humphrys’ book is basically a collection of examples, or at least that’s what it feels like, with a little discussion around each one and with some conclusions drawn from the evidence. It’s hard to disagree with the conclusions. It’s also hard not to laugh at times, especially when Humphrys reminds me of why I had to quit reading feminist literary theory. It’s because feminists manage to write this sort of thing in good faith and expect us to take them seriously:

Is E= mc2 a sexed equation? Perhaps it is. Let us make the hypotheses that it is insofar as it priveleges the speed of light over other speeds that are vitally necessary to us. What seems to us the possibly sexed nature of the equation is not directly its uses by nuclear weapons, rather it is having priveleged what goes fastest.

(Luce Irigaray, apparently.*)

I can understand that women feel uncomfortable being termed a «chairman» or a «fireman» or any of the other «male» words that have been and are still current in our language(s). I just think that sometimes, perhaps, the so-called feminists go over the top a bit. And that quote is a keeper**, and even if Humphrys’ book did nothing else, providing me with that would still be worth the time and money.

But it does do more. It’s funny, frequently lol funny, and it’s intelligent. In short, it’s a good read.

A thought: I wonder if I ever split infinitives? Let me know if you spot any, will you?

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* Actually, one thing this book is missing – which is a major drawback – is proper references.

**The more I read it, the more the mind boggles. Especially at these «other speeds that are vitally necessary to us».

Wedding Season (Bryllupsfeber) – Darcy Cosper

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In which we follow through on a whim

In what can only be classified as a moment of pure madness, I picked up Darcy Cosper’s Wedding Season in the Norwegian translation – Bryllupsfeber – at the local supermarket. There are several reasons why «madness» is the correct classification. Firstly, I don’t read English books translated into Norwegian (comic books excluded, though I prefer the original there, too). This has to be the first time I’ve contemplated doing so for well over 10 years. Secondly, I no longer read chick-lit. There is no good reason for this, it just doesn’t appeal to me anymore.

However, for a few mad seconds it obviously seemed like a good idea. And having spent the money, I thought I might as well spend the time, and read it in order to get rid of the book again.

It’s pretty much what you’d expect. It had a somewhat surprising ending, though not the «surprise ending» I started fearing half-way through, which cheered me up. I had my moments of trying to translate the Norwegian back to English to figure out what the author could possibly have meant – as expected – but not so many as to make it tedious. I enjoyed the friendly banter of Joy and her circle of friends, I thought Cosper did a pretty good job at capturing that common history/common language thing that people who know each other well develop.

And it reminded me how excessively annoying it can be when people try to push their views on how to best live your life on you. I try to avoid doing so myself, but I’m sure I forget occasionally, and even occasionally is too often.

A Game of Thrones – George R.R. Martin

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In which we cheat a bit

I’ve only read about 140 pages of A Game of Thrones, actually, at which point I wasn’t hooked, just mildly interested, which is not entirely complimentary to Martin, but I suspect it’s partly because I really wasn’t in the mood for fantasy just now. I started it despite the fact that I knew it was the wrong sort of book right now, because I got this book in a bookcrossing bookring, and felt that A. I had to give it a try and B. I needed to get it done with sooner rather than later as the point of a bookring is that several people want to read the book. However, I was quite definitely not feeling like continuing past page 140, and so thought I’d better send it on and rather request it back at some point.

However, I then went on the net and discovered that this is the first of a series where the two latest titles are not even published yet. And we all know all my patience (which isn’t a big heap to start with) is currently preoccupied preventing my head exploding because of the wait for the next (and, mercifully, last) Harry Potter novel. So starting a series that I can’t finish immediately is Not a Good Idea. So I think I’ll try to get hold of some of Martin’s independent novels instead and leave A Song of Ice and Fire as «noted» and check back in 20 years or so to see if the series is complete then.

(This copy’s bookcrossing journal)

Without Reservations – Alice Steinbach

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I enjoyed Without Reservations, though I think the title is a bit misguiding – Steinbach actually makes plenty of reservations in advance in the «books a place to stay» sense, so the pun doesn’t really work. However, she is pleasant company, and it’s quite refreshing to read travelogues by women, even in this day and age women seem to be less apt to travel on their own than men.

(bookcrossing journal for my copy)

Mean Woman Blues – Julie Smith

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Mean Woman Blues by Julie Smith was an accidental read, so to say, one of my colleagues got too many books at once from various bookrings and wondered if I wanted to read any of them. It’s the second book (I think second, it may be later) in the tale of Skip Langdon, New Orleans detective, and a character from her past – and previous book(s) – Errol Jacomine, surfaces in unpleasant ways and there is a bit of a showdown. The novel is entertaining enough in a way, but I never got very involved and something left me feeling a bit uneasy. Googling Skip Langdon revealed at least one discussion of whether Smith wasn’t commiting both sexual and racial stereotyping, perhaps that is it? (The gay men are VERY gay, the black people seem to be mostly pretty «primitive» and Skip’s boyfriend is certainly a complete stereotype in this book.) In any case, I’m not likely to read any more of Smith’s novels.

A Woman of Independent Means – Elizabeth Forsythe Hailey

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I got A Woman of Independent Means by request from xtra. I have no idea where I’ve heard of the book and why I thought I wanted to read it, but no matter. It was very pleasant 🙂 Bess Steed Garner inherits enough money from her mother to make her a «woman of independent means», which gives her more freedom than the average woman at the beginning of the 20th century. Through Bess’ own letters we follow her through from her early childhood to her death in 1977. Bess is a thoroughly beliavable woman, both exasperating and annoying and lovable at the same time.

(bookcrossing journal for the book)

Den hellige natten – Tahar Ben Jelloun

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Denne var det bare så vidt jeg leste, de første femti sidene var det et slit å komme gjennom. Etter det klarte jeg nesten ikke legge den fra meg, men i dette tilfellet var det ikke positivt. Jeg leste nemlig videre med den typen skrekkslagen fascinasjon som gjør at man ikke klarer å la være å stirre på en trafikkulykke.

Ekkel og relativt uforståelig oppsummerer vel mine følelser om Den hellige natten. Verden er visst ikke helt enig – Jelloun vant Goncourt-prisen for denne boka i 1987. Jeg føler ikke at jeg har lært noe mer om arabisk/marokkansk kultur, ei heller føler jeg at jeg har fått noe nytt innblikk i menneskesjelen. Det er mulig jeg ikke er sofistikert nok, men jeg klarer slett ikke å se noe poeng i det hele. Kanskje skal det ikke være noe poeng? Prøv gjerne å overbevise meg om at denne boka var verdt de minuttene av livet mitt jeg brukte på den, jeg liker slett ikke å føle at bøker er bortkastet…

(Bokens bookcrossing-side)

Mr. Midshipman Bolitho – Alexander Kent

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In search of another Patrick O’Brian (ha!) I bought two «Bolitho-novels» in Hay to test Alexander Kent: Mr. Midshipman Bolitho and Midshipman Bolitho and the «Avenger». They are both now in a bookshelf at The Cricketers in Clavering. Not THAT good, in other words. Entertaining, sure, and I might read a few more, but only if – against all expectations – the local library has them, or if I can pick them up at around a pound second hand.

The Secret Life of Bees – Sue Monk Kidd

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I was in the mood for a good story, hence I picked up The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd, and I was not disappointed. Lily Owens is a white, motherless child in the american south during the period of the civil rights movement. She runs away from an embittered and violent father and brings her black housekeeper – on the run from the law – with her when she goes in search of her mother’s story. They find sanctuary with three black sisters who keep bees, and Lily slowly comes to terms with life, death and her less than ideal relationship with her mother. It’s the sort of book that should have a «kleenex needed» warning sticker on the front, but it is also a very uplifting tale.