From One Book Lover

In recent years, new translations of classic works by women translators have been hitting the shelves. That inspired me earlier this year to listen to the latest translation of  The Odyssey  translated by Emily Wilson (and narrated by Claire Danes). As I listened, I realized I was looking for a feminist telling of the tale. The book's forward provided the story's historical perspective and examined the role of women in this ancient society. Aaaaaand, that was it. The rest was Odysseus sexing Greek goddesses and killing lots of people — oh, and whining about how tough his life was. As I listened, I wondered: What makes this story a classic for today? Does it stand the test of time? What about it is relevant and culturally significant today? I met some Greek gods, very interesting. I learned the background of some cultural touchstones and concepts, interesting. When I didn't quite understand the story, I turned to the graphic novel by Greg Hines. I shared that book...

One does not just trust every critic — at least, a Discerning One does not trust every critic. But how does One determine who is worthy of that trust? For me, in the Case of The Beach-Book Critic, I used two factors: representation and Lolita . Recently, I read The Odyssey (technically, Claire Danes read it to me) and I was amazed at the crap Odysseus managed to get away with. He slept his way home, killed lots of people, wounded a god's child, made some dumb-ass mistakes, lost more crew than I could count — and still made it home to sex his wife and kill lots more men and women. It was a fascinating read, but I found myself asking the same rhetorical question: "Why is this a classic ?" I have begun to look beyond my lit class must-reads for some great titles, like Tales of the Genji , the first novel ever written, by Murasaki Shikibu, an eleventh century Japanese noblewoman. Also left off my lit class lists was The Heptameron of Margaret, Queen of Navarre , a book...

As noted previously in this blog, my friend Carole and I have decided to read Weighty Books. After eight months of such reading, I have to wonder if I can read them with as fresh an eye as I would have in my undergraduate days. I ask this question after finishing Tobacco Road , a relentless story of loss and more loss. Jeeter is beaten down by life and The Man. The last time he tried to farm his land, the rich folk of Augusta stole from him more than his entire profit: it took his desire for success. He would never win, no matter how hard he worked, so it made entire sense that he did not get up off the porch for much. However, the characters of Tobacco Road were relentless sinners. Holy cow, by God and by Jesus, they were a wicked lot. I don't use those words lightly, but they fit in this case. Even characters who were supposed to be the most spiritually uplifted were fantastically immoral, even by Tobacco Road standards. The ending was as relentless and beaten-down as the...

Yes, it's nearly Halloween - can't you tell from my Library Loot? There is enough scary stuff (or possible scary stuff) to keep me occupied. The problem is, not much has scared me yet. I also picked up a little classic literature. I am hoping that will satisfy. Ghost Story  has a reputation of being one of the scariest books written in the 1970s. I wanted traditional horror. Alas, I didn't enjoy it: the story was slow to build and rather obvious. I stopped reading it after I anticipated every plot point for the first 50 pages. I really wanted to like it. Now I wonder what other books from my childhood I would view in the same way, as slow and predictable. (Yes, I read all of those books I wasn't supposed to, that were way beyond my years. It was the 70s — I think it was the law.) I did, however, like The Vagina Monologues . That classic did not disappoint. I also plan to scan local ghost lore for a little scare. It's always nice to know what...