So. Looks like we've arrived at another Monday, eh? Since it feels like I've been writing about everything but books lately here on ye ol' blog (adoptive parents possibly being forced to surrender babies to incarcerated felons, how some autism moments are worth a thousand words ....), I figured I needed to do some semblance of a book-related post in order to keep my street cred intact among the book blogger crowd.
Hence, my participation in the It's Monday! What Are You Reading? feature hosted by my friend Sheila over at Book Journey. (And, this would be my first time ever participating in said feature. Yay, me. I usually do these sorts of recaps as part of my Sunday Salon posts, but I didn't get around to that yesterday.)
(For those not in the know, It's Monday! What Are You Reading? is where we share what we read this past week, what we hope to read this week…. and anything in between.)
(58 pages read in a week. Such a reading rockstar am I, huh?)
I'm probably not going to do a bona-fide review of this one (it wasn't all that memorable, in my opinion) but I'm glad I read it nonetheless. I actually liked the introduction by editor David Bradshaw and the foreward by Doris Lessing moreso than the book itself. Besides, I don't think I could say it any better than this New Yorker review of Carlyle's House:
"It's easy to mock the Bloomsbury industry, and its latest product -- a handful of sketches that Woolf never intended for publication -- might seem a particularly vulnerable target: the pieces are not especially memorable, and the foreword (by Doris Lessing) and other critical apparatus are three times the length of the pieces themselves. Yet the friction of Woolf's intelligence as it sparks against the world is always arresting, and the biographical background provided by Bradshaw lends extra fascination. Twenty-seven when she kept this notebook, Woolf had yet to publish a novel or find a husband; her struggle to establish a sense of herself is manifest in these knowing yet tentative observations about family, marriage, and art. By the time you close this modest volume, its proportions seem exactly right."
Speaking of The New Yorker, I recently treated myself to an e-subscription of such for my Kindle and this week I've been working my way through the May 9 issue. I gotta say, although there's no substitute for the holding of a magazine in one's hands, I'm really liking this option. I don't feel guilty when my magazines pile up, and I can read them at my leisure. (Ha ... leisure. What the hell is that?!)
here.) I'm reading this in snippets and snatches of time, and I really wish I had a longer period of time to spend with this. The characters are so memorable (even when I go several days without reading this one, they still immediately come back into my mind so vividly) and the sense of place that Groff gives her reader is magnificant. (Templeton, NY is a stand-in for Cooperstown. While I've never been to Cooperstown, Groff makes me feel like I am very much right there.)
copyright 2011, Melissa, The Betty and Boo Chronicles If you are reading this on a blog or website other than The Betty and Boo Chronicles or via a feedreader, this content has been stolen and used without permission.