Or, in actuality, I went because I am reading The Lord of the Rings. But that has little to do with the rest of the post, mainly because the rest of the post is designed to make you jealous of my back yard. Through photographs.
Showing posts with label literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label literature. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
There and Back Again: A Short Girl's Tale, by Leonard.
Yesterday, in a fit of what I can only call madness, I decided to visit our creek. Not that it's actually our creek, not really; it winds its way through at least three different properties besides ours.
Or, in actuality, I went because I am reading The Lord of the Rings. But that has little to do with the rest of the post, mainly because the rest of the post is designed to make you jealous of my back yard. Through photographs.
Or, in actuality, I went because I am reading The Lord of the Rings. But that has little to do with the rest of the post, mainly because the rest of the post is designed to make you jealous of my back yard. Through photographs.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Anna Karenina or, Hipster Classics But I Don't Care.
I have am issue with buying books. As in I have to buy them constantly and then I keep them until I read them, even if that takes years and years. Bloomington has a fabulous bookstore called Boxcar Books, and my friends and I go there of a boring afternoon, when there is nothing else to do and classes are over. Since I'm in Bloomington, and therefore nowhere near my own personal library, I have to restrain myself from buying everything I see. One particular day, though, I hadn't bought anything for a few months, and, delightfully, Boxcar is a good place to find cheap books.
I decided to be intellectual that day, and so I bought just two books, Anna Karenina and Cat's Cradle by Vonnegut. I commented that it probably meant I was turning into a hipster, but I was strangely not concerned by this. MY friends proceeded to call me a loser. It's probably true.
I decided to read Cat's Cradle first. It was shorter (Cat's Cradle, 200 pages; Karenina, 700+), and I had heard phenomenal things about Vonnegut. It's basically an end-of-the-world novel, satirical and serious at the same time. An amusing side note: a lot of the characters are Hoosiers (random side note: most of the characters in The Great Gatsby are from Louisville). Vonnegut was immediately thrust into the spotlight that is My Favorite Authors, and I had to remind myself that I am poor in order to not go back to Boxcar and buy all of his books.
And then I tried Anna Karenina. My copy has been graced by graffiti, someone having changed 'Anna' to 'Banana,' which is stupid and hilarious all at once. I read it for about an hour, and I liked it. It's smart and Russian and interesting to me. The only problem was, I was having issues connecting to it. I like to feel a connection to the books I read, and it was just not happening with this book. I chalk it up to too much literary accomplishment in one setting, but you can call it what you will.
So, instead of reading Anna Karenina, a fabulously classic tale, I am reading Jim Butcher's White Night, about an angsty wizard trying to save Chicago and Brian Jacques' Martin the Warrior, about talking animals.
I decided to be intellectual that day, and so I bought just two books, Anna Karenina and Cat's Cradle by Vonnegut. I commented that it probably meant I was turning into a hipster, but I was strangely not concerned by this. MY friends proceeded to call me a loser. It's probably true.
I decided to read Cat's Cradle first. It was shorter (Cat's Cradle, 200 pages; Karenina, 700+), and I had heard phenomenal things about Vonnegut. It's basically an end-of-the-world novel, satirical and serious at the same time. An amusing side note: a lot of the characters are Hoosiers (random side note: most of the characters in The Great Gatsby are from Louisville). Vonnegut was immediately thrust into the spotlight that is My Favorite Authors, and I had to remind myself that I am poor in order to not go back to Boxcar and buy all of his books.
And then I tried Anna Karenina. My copy has been graced by graffiti, someone having changed 'Anna' to 'Banana,' which is stupid and hilarious all at once. I read it for about an hour, and I liked it. It's smart and Russian and interesting to me. The only problem was, I was having issues connecting to it. I like to feel a connection to the books I read, and it was just not happening with this book. I chalk it up to too much literary accomplishment in one setting, but you can call it what you will.
So, instead of reading Anna Karenina, a fabulously classic tale, I am reading Jim Butcher's White Night, about an angsty wizard trying to save Chicago and Brian Jacques' Martin the Warrior, about talking animals.
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