My Reading Obsession

Just finished ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’, and I am in love.  Wow.  Truman Capote, the man I knew as the author of ‘In Cold Blood’ has really amazed me.

In the paperback I read were three of his other short stories, all of which I loved, and which I’ll probably write about tomorrow.

Anyway, my experience with this story comes completely from the movie starring Audrey Hepburn, which I adore.  As a child I watched it probably yearly with my mother and sister.  Its something I insisted my entire family, K, C & J watched.  Perhaps you remember my rules about turning a book into a movie successfully.  The main one being, never change the character of a character.  The movie Breakfast at Tiffany’s definitely took liberties, but I must say, the director, screenwriter, and Ms. Hepburn captured Truman’s vision of Holly Golightly perfectly–if you ask me of course.  It was amazing.  Of course they added an entire personality for the narrator, which was unnecessary in the book, developed a love affair between Holly and the narrator, and added a very happy ending, which I somehow see must have been done for it to be a successful movie.  If possible I admire the movie more after reading the work it was based on.

Capote has a way of putting things; his sentences are beautiful, and he lets you know the nitty gritty of what’s happening without dwelling on the evil.  It allows a certain feeling of love and a naivete for his characters.  It also keeps you wondering about what they will do. You see them for who they are, but you don’t necessarily understand them or know what comes next. 

I wish it had been longer.  Even the real ending, with Holly leaving the country and skipping out on bail to live a life of unrest and uncertainty in a multitude of countries doesn’t make me feel unhappy.  Her life to her was what she wanted, whether she reached for something else or not.  It all happened just as it should.  It’s not often that I find myself laughing and crying in the course of such a short work, but I found it so with Breakfast and with the other short stories.  I guess I’ve found a new favorite author.  I’m going to have to search out more of his stuff!

K and I came down with what I think was food poisoning this weekend. Awful. I felt awful. We didn’t leave the house all day Sunday.  Then I stayed home from work Monday too.  Ick.  The only bright spot was that I read a ton!

Most of my time was spent on ‘The Cider House Rules’.  I’m really liking it.  Now, I’ve seen the movie, but it’s been years, right?  And I think that the Oscar winning screenplay plays pretty much havoc with the book. It seems as if entire locations and major characters were written out. Of course after I finish, I’ll watch again and see what I think. Perhaps I’m remembering it wrong. There is a very ominous character, Melony, that I do not remember in the movie.  And I’m not really liking it. I hate the feeling that any minute of the last half of the book she’s going to catch up to Homer Wells and kill him.  I don’t like the stress! 

What I do find interesting is the exploration of how different people come to believe certain ways.  We see clearly why the Doctor see abortion as an important right of women and a responsibility to doctors, despite its illegality and the fact that his beloved orphanage and hospital could be shut down for his performance of them. The train of events that transpires after he refuses to do an abortion demand his point of view really.  What sort of amazes me that when the orphan, Homer, that The Doctor brings up specifically to take on his work, trains to perfection and loves, refuses to have any part of it after seeing a murdered (not by abortion, by domestic violence) fetus, I can understand that too.  Not condone or agree, but understand.  Where this goes, I don’t remember.  All I remember is the end with the injured soldier and Homer loosing his love. 

Anyway, I never would have gotten as far as I did without sickness and wretchedness, so I guess that’s my blue sky, right?

There is no blue sky here today though.  We had a bit of snow yesterday that didn’t stick, and the same today.  Today however, seems a bit moodier, despite less snow.  Suddenly it feels like winter.The leaves haven’t even all fallen yet!  Yesterday I used my new purple umbrella, and today I wore the purple hat with the frills Chantel made for me.  How fun is that?

So I may have mentioned that I had Naked Lunch around the house and was planning on reading it. Unfortunately, it’s been a bit hard for me to get into.  I’m not in a druggie state of mind I guess.  So Jude asked if he could read it, and I said okay.  Well about a day later, he returns it to me.  I asked why, and he said, there is weird sex stuff you don’t want me to know about. 

Take that you uptight parents!  I can trust my teenager! Isn’t he the coolest? Sigh. 

Last year I went out to lunch with a partner in my firm and he was complaining because he and his wife never got to go out–they were always having to stay home because his kids brought their friends over and so they had to be home. I said that if my kids had friends over and I wanted to go out, I went out, that I felt I could trust them on their own.  He was just appalled. He said when his kids went to their friends homes, he new their parents chaperoned, and so he needed to do the same. I didn’t know if that meant that he was more worried about keeping up appearances, and with the Jones’ or whether he really worried about the teenage activities. Anyway, I started wondering–should I worry?  In the end I didn’t, and this is just one of the times I feel as if trusting the kids is the right thing to do.

Internet has changed my life as well as everyone else’s.  One thing it’s added to my daily routine is a bunch of sites I read on a daily basis.  They are;

• Dear Abby
• Ask Amy
• Dear Prudence
• Chantel’s College Blog (My daughter’s blog)
• Dinner 2 Nite Blog (My Friend Mikey’s blog)
• Cake Wrecks (Awesome Cake Mistakes)
• Town Hall Blog (My Sister-in-law’s blog)
• People of Walmart (Beyond Description)

Usually, I check out Yahoo! News, and MSNBC, and sometimes look at featured items on Yahoo! or MSN.  On the news sites, I usually just read headlines and try to avoid reading the gory details.  I try to stay positive.  Gosh, I waste a lot of time on the Internet, don’t I?

A few weeks ago, Dear Abbey didn’t post new columns for several days and it really upset me. I am so addicted, it’s just crazy.  Does this cut into my real reading?  Maybe.  But I guess I’ll just live with it. It’s better than coffe or coke!

Truthfully, I don’t really know.   The story from my mom is that when I was really young, a couple of years old, she only had a few books, and I loved to be read to.  So I would memorize them. I could repeat them word for word, turning the pages at the right times and even looking at the right place on the page.  So one day she had some friends over, and they were in the living room, and I sat down at my little play table with ‘The Little Red Hen’, put my feet up, and started to ‘read’ it to them.  They were astonished. They were amazed.  I was a prodigy!  Not!  Just a show off smarty-pants!

Anyway, I remember my first book from school–my first Chapter book anyway–Fun with Dick and Jane.  I am not even kidding. It was about an inch and a half thick with the classic, ‘See Dick run.  See Jane run.  See Dick Play’. And on and on and on. I remember watching that bookmark march through the pages, getting closer and closer to the end.  At one point, super proud of myself because I was so far ahead of the class, I showed where my bookmark was to my Dad.  He could not have cared less. I felt surprised for a moment, and then was not that he didn’t seem amazed.  Pretty typical, really. Unless you’re getting your masters degree that is!

From that point on I was reading. I remember fighting over the cereal boxes to read at the breakfast table, reading shampoo bottles in the bathroom if there was nothing else, the labels on canned food, and just anything as long as it was printed words.  Of course I hope I have better taste now.  By the time I was in third or fourth grade, I had graduated to ‘A Tree Grows in Brooklyn’ and books on my parents shelves.  When I was in sixth grade I read ‘Pride and Prejudice’, partly because the copy we had was my Grandma Littrel’s, who had died when I was seven.  I felt as if we had something in common. 

My mother despaired of me. I’m pretty sure.  Often I would disappear into the bathroom, the only room with a lock on it, when there were chores to be done, reading for what seemed like forever–at least to her.  I also climbed trees, hid out in the barn, and sat on fences with books.  I remember finishing ‘Where the Red Fern Grows when I was about ten. The fence I was sitting on faced our garden, and I looked at the peas while I cried my eyes out.  Has there ever been a more heartbreaking story?

Now I read for fun and am happy that I’ve expanded my interests.  Fiction, especially from women authors used to be my favorite, but now I really enjoy Biographies much more than I used to.  Due to having kids, I’ve read a lot of young adult books, which has actually been fun. 

My kids are readers, I think.  Chantel loves fiction and non, and is enjoying her English classes so much she’s thinking of changing her major to English.  Jude just finished Dante’s Inferno and reads just about anything.  I’m so glad, because I think books add so much to life. It’s escapism and learning at the same time.  I highly recommend it to all.

I’ve finally finished ‘My Heart Laid Bare’ by one of my favorite authors, Joyce Carol Oates.  So many times the best fiction has the reader asking questions;  Who is he, why did that happen, what is going to happen, and how can this possibly work out.  To me, Oates is a master at this.  Not only is there the initial mystery, but throughout the entire book, you are constantly trying to figure out what is going on and with whom. From her style of writing, to her plots, I never feel quite on solid ground. 

This cast of characters lends itself perfectly to such a device.  I’d feel as if I was finally understanding, and then a completely new set of circumstances was introduced, and I was just trying to figure out who was who and what was going on.  ‘My Heart Laid Bare’ is the story of a con man and the family he raises to play ‘The Game’.  So any given chapter or section might be a new ‘Game’, with new people and circumstances, unrecognizable to the reader. I loved it. 

So this family man runs through wives, children,  and associates as if they are disposable, all the while pretending he cares and loves them.  Well, not even pretending, but believing he has only their best interests at heart.  What schemes will succeed and to what extent is unclear.  What is clear is that he has no one’s best interests at heart and cares only for ‘The Game’, the excitement of it and who he can use to win it.  He finds his fitting end, I think, and perhaps some of his family does as well. Not all, but some. 

Jude has stolen ‘Naked Lunch’ from me.  Which means on the bus my new book is Truman Capote’s ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’, and at home, I’ve started ‘The Cider House Rules’.  Or will start, when I finish ‘Chamber of Secrets’.  Yes, again!

Since I finished The Perfectionist, I needed to pick out a new book to read at home.  I went to the 1001 list first of course and pulled out a book from it, Naked Lunch.  It’s basically written by an addict at all stages of his addiction.  I started reading all the introductory stuff and then stopped.  Two times it was in a legal battle to state supreme courts on whether it should be banned because of its content.  Both courts decided that it did have some social value and so could not be considered….what is the word I’m looking for?  Obsenity. Yeah, that.  So of course, I’m really excited to read all this not obsene content.

In court, one of the authors that testified, either Norman Mailer or Allan Ginsburg basically said that Burroghs couldn’t have written the book without being an addict, but the book could not be perfect because he was an addict. Huh?  Okay, I guess it’s better to have a lesser work by an addict than a better nothing.

Anyway, that’s what I’ve decided on–if I can just stop myself from reading HP Chamber of Secrets, which K has laying around!  Aargh!

Before Chantel left for school, I found this book laying around. It turned out to be hers, although I don’t know where she got it and it’s sort of an odd book for her to have around.  Anyway, I asked to read it and have finally finished.  Finally I say, because reading it was a bit of a labor.  Honestly.

A biography about a chef, in this case Bernard Loiseau, does need to explain, to the lay person, a bit of the history of many things. The Michelin Star system needs to be understood.  The history of french cuisine, the apprenticeship system for upcoming cooks, and typical ingredients most Americans would never eat are foreign. I understand that. However, this book was just all over the place. So many chefs and styles and restaurants and towns with special cuisines were discussed that half the time I had no idea who or what the author was talking about!  I’m no dummy, but the fact of the matter is, he didn’t make me care enough to really pay attention. It seemed as if there was no focus in the story. There were not short digressions into other subjects, but pages and pages and pages of other subject. Interesting enough, but does it bring the main subject more to life?  Uhm.  I don’t think so. Comme ci, comme ca, oui?

Secondly, I am well aware that in each of us, each human being, there is not only good or bad, but a mixture of both.  No one is perfect and the best characters in non-fiction and fiction are those were we see both sides of the coin.  In this book, my problem was, I couldn’t tell whether the author admired the character or not.  He would go on and on making the man sound like an idiot, self deluded, narcissistic and yet completely unsure of himself and lacking in self-esteem, making a fool of himself and ruining his own life and career, and then describes a scene in which he, as a friend and ‘collegue’ in the industry spent time with the man he was close to.  Obviously there is bad to say, but sometimes the author said it in a way that was belittling of the struggles of Loiseau.  He partially blames the man’s suicide on foodie press writers who published half-truths and rumours about him, and then demeans the cooking skills that earned the man three Michelin stars.  It seemed a bit sporadic and irritating. 

Lastly, I’d like to say that just because American food is newer, does not mean we don’t know anything. This author calls all cultures but French undevleoped and ignorant. Over and over and over.  Then he writes about a Loiseau’s downfall because he did not have the talent to jump on the exciting new cuisine that was coming from countries all over the world, including many American cities.  Get over yourself!  Go eat some  freedom fries you elitist frog!  LOL. 

The picture he painted of this talented and overwrought man was not more than a two-dimensional one, which seems sad to me.  I guess his accomplishments must speak for themselves.  It did move me that he killed himself and life in his restaurant seemed to move on so easily; no demotion of stars, the chef that worked under him moving the cuisine up to a higher level, his wife managing the business and finances seamlessly.  There seems to be no doubt the man made an impact and something might have been done to save him.  Unfortunately, the ending of the book once again seemed to make his life seem like something of a blip and what he accomplished as something that might have been done better by others.  I don’t honestly think that is the truth of it though.  It was just a poor bit of writing; if you ask me.

One thing–I’ll enjoy Top Chef a lot more knowing just how much work a chef puts into success.  Tiny profit margins, killer long days and months and years starting at a young age and continuing to the end of a often very short life do not add up to a lifestyle I could enjoy.  Viva les chefs!

Guess what I’ve been reading?  Yes, my new job is as a Grant Monitor, or Auditor, and I am now in the process of reading and critiquing all of the grant applications.  The good thing is, the committe is filled with much more experienced grant analysts than I am, so everything I miss, they catch.  Luckily the subject, which I’ll leave out, is usually interesting, and sometimes the statistics are very surprising.  Does that leave you hanging?

I dug out the first two Harry Potter books for Kimball to read, but when he finished the first one, I could not findwhere I’d put the second one. I had to call my sis and ask to borrow a copy.  So he starts reading andthen the next day gets on the treadmill.  Suddenly he asks me what something was.  There was my copy, down on the floor behind the treadmill.  I guess I’d started to read it, for the 32nd time, and forgotten about it.  Well, if you’re going to say something nasty about how I haven’t used the treadmill in over a month, then I warn you, I’ve been ill.  The first day of my new job, I got a nasty cold, and true to form, the cough is just hanging on.  Any physical activity at all, and I start hacking away.  It’s driving me nutty. The sad thing is, since we’d moved the treadmill into the house, I’d been using it faithfully every day, actually run/walking for almost an hour a day.  I guess the fact that I am rarely sick should make me happy, but why does it have to just hang on and on when I do catch something?  Aargh.

Still reading quite a bit, but haven’t finished anything. I’ll try to get on it!

Its a great morning already, and I’m just enjoying a cup of green tea.  My favorite.  Funny thing is, I usually drink it when I am at work, and not at home.  Why?  Distractions!  The tea is brewed and set on a counter or table, or wherever, and 2 hours later, I notice it.  Good thing I like iced tea.  I sometimes chill it and gulp it down. But still, you’d think I’d be able to focus on something without worrying about the laundry, or looking up something on the internet, or getting in the shower, or whatever. Nope.  Not really.

Tea and books though, huh?  Don’t they seem the perfect companions?  The last few days have been rainy here, all humidity and fall air. I love the feeling. The other day I was walking to work and thought it felt like Portland and not Salt Lake. Made me smile.  So this weekend I had the windows open to let all the good feeling come in.  On Sunday my mom came over and she said, “Don’t you want to shut the windows and warm it up in here?”  Never! Put on some sockies and a sweater, because I want to enjoy this while I can.  Book in hand, tea on the side table, cozied up on the couch with the clouds out the window–what could be better?