Trying Out a Podcast

I’ve been recording book reviews for the Hawaii Library for the Blind and Print Disabled during this pandemic, converting my audio into MP3 files for patrons.  I’ve thought about starting a podcast as a supplement to my reviews on this blog, but thought I’d try by sharing some my recordings here first.

This file is focused on Halloween stories with enough magical realism and scary tales to carry you through Halloween, and maybe the horrors of the subsequent election coming soon.

Let me know:  if you can access it, what you think, ideas for what you’d like to hear.

 

 

 

 

 

Feel Good Books

Angela Haupt lists fifteen books to lift your spirits in her article for the Washington Post, and I’ve already read four of them.  In case you need a pick me up, here they are with my reviews:

but my next book really is a beach read – says so in the title.  I’ve started reading, and so far, it seems to be a romantic comedy starring Jonathan Franzen and Jennifer Weiner in their famous literary feud. The two main characters are writers, accidentally living in houses across from each other and each has a summer to write a book.  To encourage a new muse in their writing, they agree to write in the other’s genre.  The Franzen character, known in the book as serious Gus, will write a happily-ever-after romance, and the Weiner character, with the name January Andrews agrees to write serious stuff.

 

Her list includes Anxious People by Backman. I’m not a fan of the author, so will probably skip it, but if you are looking for a story about an inept bank robber who takes  prospective buyers hostage during an open house, you might try it.

Others on her list promise some fast, mindless, and satisfying reads; I plan to look for them:

  • Dear Emmie Blue by Lia Louis – romance and humor
  • You Had Me at Hola by Alexis Daria – romantic fun on a soap opera
  • The House in the Cerulean Sea by TJ Klune – fantasy – been on my to read list for a while

What feel good books have you been reading lately?

 

 

From Monogamy to Monotony

It started with Sue Miller’s Monogamy.  With that title, I expected a love story but Miller delivered something else.  With infidelity and death mixed into romantic interludes, the story left me feeling sour.

I went on to read Eleanor Lipman’s new short novel, available now only on Kindle, and to be published after election day.  I thought I could laugh at the bumbling episodes of Rachel to the Rescue, with a fictional satire on Trump’s incompetence and infidelity, but I couldn’t.  Maybe after the election – depending on who wins.

Finally, I turned to Sophie Kinsella – surely, she would save me from the world.  With the title Love Your Life, it promised a fantasy love affair somewhere in the Mediterranean, but, alas, it is not published yet.

Amor Towles has a new short story with a welcoming title – You Have Arrived at Your Destination but it’s only available on audio, and I can’t find my earphones.

Not even the Barefoot Contessa with her new Modern Comfort Food could save me.  The pictures were sumptuous but did not motivate me to get into the kitchen and cook. If only Ina did takeout.

Must be me, right?  I’ve ordered books from two of my favorite inde bookstores, but it’s so long ago – they are coming by media mail – I’ve forgotten what I bought.  I’m pretty sure the new Ken Follett book is in the package, and, if it ever gets here, should keep me busy for a while. 

In the meantime, back to watching movies and taking naps.

 

Rebecca is Haunting the Airwaves

A good movie at the end of the day seems to have become a routine. The remake of  Roald Dahl’s The Witches is coming to HBO in time for Halloween, and other scary movies I’ve watched lately include The Trial of the Chicago Seven and David Attenborough: A Life on Our Planet on Netflix, but last night I watched Lily James and Armie Hammer in the Netflix remake of Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, a classic scary movie.

James is a little too beautiful for the frumpy second wife Du Maurier wrote about, despite her clunky shoes and baggy sweaters, and Armie Hammer is too young and debonair for the cold, older, reticent aristocrat of the novel, but, oh, they are so good to watch together on the screen,  The steamy scene on the beach reminiscent of Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr’s famous scene in From Here to Eternity would never have happened in the novel, but I’m glad it was in the movie.

I wondered at the Netflix ending and spent an hour trying to find a free version of the novel on Gutenberg to compare.  When I read Rebecca, I remembered the Gothic overtones and the feeling of ghostly despair haunting the ending; noone was living happily ever after.  Netflix cures this authorial intent with another steamy bedroom scene, but offers a nod to the possibilities with Lily James crazy stare into the camera at the end.  If you didn’t know the novel, you might think all was well and Rebecca’s ghost was still swimming in the deep.  The movie was good, but, as always, the novel was better – give it a try – you can listen to it, complete with eerie music  – here.

Although true to the novel in most scenes, the romantic ending might be better for viewers in this virus ridden world.  After all, we already have a specter to fear and resist; who needs another one.

Solutions and Other Problems

Having finally finished Sarah Bakewell’s At the Existentialist Cafe (taking almost as long as reading The Splendid and the Vile), I found myself happily ensconced in an easier path to philosophical thinking with Allie Brosh’s Solutions and Other Problems.  If you have read her first book, Hyperbole and a Half, you will recognize her cartoonish characters combined with serious thinking. I like books with pictures but tend to shy away from graphic novels. Brosh, on the other hand, offers her heavy insight mixed with a light touch.  It was easy to transfer Bakewell’s evaluation of Sartre to Brosh’s world of grimly smiling characters.

Brosh’s book is full of her own story as she navigates through her sister’s suicide and her traumatic health scare and includes a plethora of sublime and funny vignettes from childhood through her thirty year old self (notice I did not say adulthood). She draws herself as a frog-eyed and neckless stick figure with a blonde shark fin of a ponytail protruding from her head.   She explains why:

“There are a lot of distracting things about humans,” she says. “There are ways we’ve learned to interpret each other, based on all these outside clues. Drawing myself in this spastic, animalistic way allows me to communicate more directly about the things I’m trying to talk about without using this confusing [human] vehicle as a medium.”

Her style works to simultaneously provoke humor and pathos, drawing the reader into funny situations with thoughtful outcomes. Brosh adds her quirky art to a humorous angst reminiscent of David Sedaris talking about his childhood or his favorite pants. Allie Brosh transforms simple stories about her cat, her childhood, and her anxiety into humorous lessons. Some are just laugh out loud funny but others will have you connecting to your own experiences.

Best of all, by exposing her own idiosyncracies, worries, and insecurities, she gives the reader the freedom to admit to some too, and, in the end, become your own best friend. Maybe Solutions and Other Problems was not written to draw us out of our social distancing doldrums in a pandemic, but reading the book sure does a good job of it.

The last line in the book:

Because nobody should have to feel like a pointless little weirdo alone.   Especially if they are.