A'travelin' I go! (Inserted here because blogger won't let me put in a title. How screwy is that?)
I started my first book for the Armchair Traveling Challenge, and so far I'm in lurv. I'm about 33 pages into The English Patient, and so far, so good. However, I have to say, this is one of those books I can't read with noise swirling around me. If B. is watching TV or something, I'm cooked. So I'll probably start a light, fluffy book along with this one for reading with noise--like tomorrow when I'm at the Honda dealership at 8am getting a circuit board fixed.
Anywho, Michael Ondaatje's writing is beautiful, and I had to share a favorite passage about BOOKS!
She sat in the window alcove of the English patient's room, the painted walls on one side of her, the valley on the other. She opened the book. The pages were joined together in a stiff wave. She felt like Crusoe finding a drowned book that had washed up and dried itself on the shore. A Narrative of 1757. Illustrated by N.C. Wyeth. As in all of the best books, there was the important page with the list of illustrations, a line of text for each of them.
She entered the story knowing she would emerge from it feeling she had been immersed in the lives of others, in plots that stretched back twenty years, her body full of sentences and moments, as if awakening from sleep with a heaviness caused by unremembered dreams.
Ahhh, to be in a burned out Italian villa with a thief and a burned-to-a-crisp guy. It never sounded so romantic and lush!
In other news, there's not a thing goin' on around here. That is, there is quite a bit going on, but nothing terribly out of the ordinary or interesting. I got an e-mail from D-rock (prof) last night, asking that I write a conclusion for a review that will be in print shortly (yay!), and I have every intention of editing articles for my freelance gig as they pop up today. I will also be cleaning (blarrrrg) as my stuff from moving in is still scattered about, and I shed like an ape (if apes shed), so I need to sweep the bathroom floor.
Exciting life, yes? I love it. Who cares if it's exciting. I'm quite the content munchkin bookworm.