Start a 43T book club

to read about 25 pages so far, in between trick-or-treaters, etc. – and love this book!

I think I’ll mark this goal as done, though of course I’ll be continuing with this on Shelfari.

Last night I went to Borders (a friend was kind enough to give me a gift certificate for my birthday) and was able to get a real bargain on the first book the 43T Group on Shelfari is reading – yay! First I did a search on the store’s computer and located the paperback version at $14, but before I checked out I was looking over the bargain buy table, and what should my wondering eyes should appear, but that very book in hard cover. For $5.99!!!

Rheajill has been good enough to set up a 43T group on this really cool site called Shelfari and though I’ve started setting mine up, I need some serious computer time to do more, and hopefully send out invites to people who might be interested. Not to mention do some actual reading!

Author: Stieg Larsson

The girl in the title is an investigator. She is woven into the story as one of two main protagonists.

The story takes place in Sweden on the eve of a dramatic stock market collapse, and we are treated to the prelude to that event.

Translated from Swedish, highly readable, not your average mystery/thriller. The women are no less strong, intelligent, capable than the men, and also no less disgusting. Ethics and moral certainty are pushed to the limits.

I give this book a high recommendation. BTW – there are two more books by the same author, forming a trilogy, and the author died of a heart attack. The two books are coming in 2009 and 2010 in English language version.

Very richly observed, cinematic, droll. The author is now the managing director of Conde Nast magazines. The scenes are textured. You have the sense of fully being there.

I was sitting in the hot tub at the beach reading in the afternoon, and it was an interesting juxtaposition, to travel between the English countryside in the winter time to the California coast on a gorgeous summer day, just by turning my eyes one way or another.

That the formula or device behind the story is so transparently one disaster gives way to one just a bit worse than the last is forgiven. The characters are interesting, and as Anthony’s view and tolerance of them change, so does the reader’s.

The renovation of the family castle is ever so much fun to read, from the plans of the flowers and bunnies second wife’s never carried out fantasies, through the elaborate and painfully expensive uber-efforts of the second wife – it is a rare walk through the lives of people unlike any I have ever known or ever would know. And as easy to see as any TV show of lives of the rich and famous. If that makes any sense. It is an intensely visual book.

There is about 1/6 or so left to go.

I read a teensy bit more. Apparently back then invasion of privacy by the media was every bit as bad as it is now (though without the added misery from TV & radio). I have great sympathy for Frank & especially Mamah …

bogged down – it’s moved along to Taliesin, which is thrilling to me; though it’s been 3 1/2 years since I’ve been there, I can clearly envision it still when the author writes about the place. I love that place so much, but part of me wishes I didn’t already know how the story will end. It’s a little like having someone tell you that Kevin Spacey is Keyser Soze before seeing The Usual Suspects!

And my avatar photo was taken in the courtyard there.

I’m a bit bogged down with my latest book – Loving Frank by Nancy Horan. In this segment, our protagonist Mamah is seeking out the counsel of a feminist author who is telling her all the things she wants to hear as it pertains to her lifestyle choices. While I understand how important it is to have understanding and acceptance, I think it’s a grave error to surround ourselves only with people who amount to nothing more than “yes” men. Though I make mistakes every single day of my life, I wouldn’t dream of only reading or talking to people who are a salve for my conscience. And honestly, this part is just a little dull.

Plus, I suppose I have to also admit to the unpopular stance of not totally buying into modern-day feminism. Gender equity is wonderful, but the kind of reverse-discrimination against men I often see cloaked as feminism seems to me to be nothing more than the same ugly bigotry you see in the realm of race, religion, you name it. An “us vs. them” mindset. I first noticed this when I was in a Consciousness Raising group in the late 70’s; these women were basically man-haters trying to foist their opinions upon naive little moi, but I never bought it.

But I’ll find the strength to forge on, because I know there is a great story there, if I can just get past this portion.

And you are into the genre of the mystical magical earthiness of South American writers, try Cellophane, by Marie Arana.

It is lyrical, with so much heart.

Like sushi is my favorite cuisine, this sort of South American writing is my favorite genre. It captures the soul of people like no other.

When there is a plague of truth telling on your house, and you live with your brothers and sisters and their wives and husbands and children, and there is the children’s teacher with a really nice butt living there too, plus the exotic people from all over who ride in on the river, it is a story like a movable feast.

He was watching for the teacher, and lifted his hat. 43 yellow butterflies flew into the skies. The village people said Victor lifted his hat and his brains flew out his ears. not a quote, a paraphrase.

I haven’t had much time to read lately, I took my current book to the gym the other night and read for the first 20 minutes on the stationary cycle, till I started to get sweaty enough to worry about dripping on the book! It’s Loving Frank by Nancy Horan, and I am really into it. It’s very well-written and does a good job of capturing some interesting personalities. Makes me want to visit Oak Park, or maybe Taliesin again.