Frigate Bird

Day 311 of the "What are you reading, and why?" project, and, while I will no doubt learn what some other people are reading when I get to work today, I am posting early to share with you the frigate bird, an image sent by faithful reader Kim, related to yesterday's "no frigate like a book" Emily Dickinson-bookmark* and Marilynne Robinson-book-of-essays post.


The male of the species puffs itself up to mate.

Almost enough said.

However, you know me, so I will say a little bit more.  The frigatebird (one word in Wikipedia) is also sometimes known as the Man of War bird, which also relates to Robinson's observations and hopes that we will cease the relentless making of war machinery, and Pirate bird.  No more pillaging of the earth, please.

And, while I thought I would continue my Marilynne Robinson trend by reading Home, I am instead reading The Secret of Lost Things, by Sheridan Hay, that Christmas gift from Sarah.  Already I am in the bookstore, The Arcade, where the main character has just been hired, meeting the eccentric employees, and watching the owner price books and write the price in pencil lightly on the first page in his own distinctive handwriting.

The writer has lived in Australia and New York and worked in bookstores!

*Bookmark given to a high-school English teacher last night!  (Along with a listening ear, so she could vent a bit about the lack of reading going on in today's classrooms.  And I told her about Figment, for literary teens, which might also inspire non-literary teens a bit, eh?!)

And Happy Birthday, Jane Austen!!

The Sorrows of Middle-Aged Matchmakers

Day 246 of the "What are you reading, and why?" project, and Sarah is halfway through Emma, by Jane Austen, because she is on an Austen kick, as are many, many people, still, with this perennial favorite among readers.  Just today a young woman came into Babbitt's looking for "classics," meaning Jane Austen.

In addition, a gentle young man was made happy discovering other classics, and how cheap they were, and walked away, for example, with The Sorrows of Young Werther, by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

I am now a bit worried about the gentle young man, as I have reminded myself of the plot of Young Werther via Wikipedia.  Aauughh, suicidal romantic youth.

It is an epistolary and autobiographical novel, although Goethe himself survived.  The book made him very famous, everybody loved and read it, the author later distanced himself from it, and that'll teach you to write about unrequited love and to write to your beloved and ask for pistols.  That is, don't!

Oh, gentle young man, maybe have the satirical Joys of Young Werther, by Friedrich Nicolai, on hand as an antidote.

Or Emma, by Jane Austen, about a sort of clueless matchmaker.  (Hence, Clueless, the film with Alicia Silverstone.)  And possibly an inspiration for The Matchmaker, by Thornton Wilder, revised from his own earlier version, The Merchant of Yonkers, with The Matchmaker then leading to Hello, Dolly, which I watched half of last night before falling asleep.

Then I woke up and attempted a little crazy middle-aged matchmaking in the fantasyland of my own clueless head.  And by email.  Please, please forgive me.  If you do, I promise not to turn my life into an epistolary musical.

Louisa May Alcott and Jane Austen, Perennials

Day 155 of the "What are you reading, and why?" project, and young women are still reading Jane Austen and Louisa May Alcott, because they are perennial favorites.

We go through surges of interest in Austen, at Babbitt's, where I work, that wipes us out temporarily, and then we get some new ones, line them all up on the shelf, put some on the new arrivals cupboard by the door, and put one in the window. Most recently Sense and Sensibility, a new edition in hardcover, was in the window, plucked out by a woman who walked by, and off it went with her.

By coincidence, Julie is following Austen with A Follow Spot today, too! How you can read her in her own hand!

Today a young woman was in the shop with maybe her grandpa, who was helping her look for Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott. Hard to keep hold of that, too. But, as she had already read Little Women, she was thrilled to find another Alcott, My Girls. I've found the exact red cover, but I'm not finding much about what this particular book is, unless it brings together things from Aunt Jo's Scrapbook, where there is also a title, My Boys. Grandpa gave her money for My Girls, because he had bought her brother comic books down the street. So everybody was happy.

Yes, when it rained, it poured today. And afterward, out came the sun again. Sarah got blooming balsam, something from Emily Dickinson's garden, at the Farmers Market. I got mine there earlier this season, and it is thriving!! Balsam is a perennial by way of delicate seed pods that burst open at a touch. Hence, its familiar name in some circles, Touch-Me-Not!

April Fool's Day Mystery

Day 51 of the "What are you reading, and why?" project.

Is this an April Fool's Day joke? Amazon has sent me an email asking if I am looking for mysteries and thrillers. That part I understand. A lot of you are reading mysteries and thrillers, so I search for them at Amazon to provide a handy link, and Amazon thinks I read them. (Huge issues of privacy, marketing, and cultural values shall be set aside for the moment.)

But why does Amazon classify The English Major by Jim Harrison as a mystery/thriller? Is it because it has a stalker in it? Or the word "stalker" in the plot summary? Anyhoo.... Dave, one of the SOBs who is reading The English Major for his book group (they call themselves the SOBs--I wouldn't ever call him one!) is also reading 2 other books by Jim Harrison, the ones we had handy at Babbitt's!

April is not necessarily the cruelest month. But it is supposed to be 80 degrees here today, and I do remember a blizzard on April 4 here in a past year. Anyhoo... April is also National Poetry Month, and there will be all sorts of poetry events going on, so 1) attend some and 2) read a book of poetry this month, even if you think you don't like it!

You can hear me read my very short poem "Coyote" on WGLT Poetry Radio today, if you want. You can stream it live today at 10 a.m. or 10 p.m., or hear it as a podcast at WGLT, iTunes, or various other websites that cull radio readings from other sites and gather them for general listeners and special populations.

Anyhoo...

A reading group down the road in Lincoln, Illinois is just starting up, using as its first selection Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe. I attempted a conversational mini-interview with the leader of this group, to find out why they were interested in reading this particular book at this particular time...but could not get a word in edgewise. The man preferred to have a long conversation with my boss, right in front of me as I worked, so I quietly typed away, listening for the answer, should it creep into the conversation, which was about business and power, not about books at all.

After Uncle Tom's Cabin, his book group will read Mansfield Park and Jane Eyre. Had I been able to engage the fellow in conversation, I might have asked why they were reading classics by women authors.

"Who's that by?" called the book group leader from the fiction aisle when he went to look for Uncle Tom's Cabin. I let the boss help him.

Do I sound bitter? Snarky? Neglected? Petty? Human? Foolish? Anyhoo...

Perhaps I will retitle this entry "Anyhoo."

And speaking of Jane Austen and Jane Eyre, a nice young woman came in the store last week confusing the two, as I did as a teenager, thinking one was the author of the other, etc. Well, it is hard to keep them straight. So I felt vaguely comforted for embarrassment in the past, and was happy to help her find some Austen and some Bronte! And, speaking of Bronte, there are more then one of them, those writing sisters, and a young woman was pleased to find a nice old hardback copy of Wuthering Heights on Tuesday.

And another young woman was delighted to find, in the window, where we had placed it as soon as it came in, Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters, one of those wacky intertextual classics & monsters books, this one by Ben H. Winters (and Jane Austen), like Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, by Seth Grahame-Smith (and Jane Austen), or Mansfield Park and Mummies by Vera Nazarian (and Jane Austen). Actually, I see there are two P&P and Zombies books--including Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: Dawn of the Dreadfuls, by Steve Hockensmith--nay, a whole series of these "Quirk Classics."

And now Amazon will think I want to buy them.

Maybe, when he returns today to have lunch with the boss, I should recommend Mansfield Park and Mummies to the book group leader....

And that's enough human April folly for today.