It's so gross outside. This morning was beautiful, mild, sunny. Now it's dark, rainy, and yucky. One would think, living in an area prone to sudden rain and tropical weather, that I would invest in an umbrella that cost more than $3.00. I swear, the thing is made out of lint strung together with toothpicks. Worthless.
I'm incredibly draggy today. The Daisy let me sleep just fine last night (SEVEN HOURS WITH NO CRATE PEEING), so I have positively no excuse for excessive fatigue. The sinus headache has other ideas, though. It's pounding away, thanks to what I can only call a barrage of distasteful allergy activity. I think it's the impending pine pollen epidemic. My nose knows.
In reading news, I finished my fourth book of this great month of February. The Bluest Eye, by Toni Morrison, was a worthy pick for the Year of Reading Dangerously. There are millions of people who've read this before me (thanks, Oprah!), but I'll review it briefly anyway...just in case you're still looking for that final push to make you pick it up. I can't handle stringing paragraphs together in an orderly fashion, so you'll just have to subsist on snippets.
The good parts:
1. It's short. Yes, yes, I'm a sucker for a short novel. Especially when wits are on end and all. Weighing in at 216 pages (included the author's notes at the end), this one was a very quick read. Something I didn't think I'd get from Morrison.
2. The language is stunning. I read Beloved as a teen, which I think I've mentioned here. However, I don't count it as "read" since I didn't "get it" at all and probably skimmed more than half of it. SO, this is my first Morrison, and I was positively bowled over by the language. I would give you tasty quotes, but I turned in my copy to the college library on my way out yesterday to lighten the load in my tote bag.
3. It's chock full of great ideas. Morrison approaches this story of incest and abuse with an eye toward racial self-hatred, beauty ideals, and all that other literary stuff. It really is a jam-packed social statement. I won't go into it all, but if you want a book with an agenda that's nicely constructed, knock yourself out.
4. Which leads me to my very favorite part: the structure. The majority of the tale is passed along through the narration of two of Pecola Breedlove's childhood peers. I would say friends, but that's a little iffy. Two young girls who experience her situation from the outside, that is. And her experience, it's no mystery...she's carrying her father's baby. Now ya know. Other bits are told in flashback, from various perspectives, and the reader must piece the whole flingin'-flangin' mess together. It's worth it.
The bad, or at least iffy:
1. SHE'S CARRYING HER FATHER'S BABY! *sprays self with Lysol* This is one of those novels, like Lolita, that I'm tempted to say I enjoyed. But how weird is that? To "enjoy" a novel about rape, incest, all sorts of vile yuckiness. It's executed so prettily, though! I'll rephrase...I appreciated this novel and enjoyed the experience of reading it. There.
2. It affected me without moving me. That is, it wasn't powerful enough to evoke tears or a re-read, but it was darn good. I like to be moved. My favorite books move me. This one probably won't be a favorite, but I'm glad I read it, and I will pick up other Morrison offerings in the future.
There you have it! The Bluest Eye in a hurry. In the rain.
I'll be back later with new Daisy pics! With sunshine and dandelions and lots of nose-in-hole digging.