part two depressed me to no end. part three made me warm and fuzzy inside. of everyone in the book i loved florence the most, i wish she were real so i could become her friend.
i love stories that lead you through another's journey of seal realization. stories about being fallen, lost, found, about finding yourself, what it really means to love. and i have to admit it's nice to read a work of fiction that's not about a damsel in distress waiting for a man to come and save her... it's thrilling to read love scenes that take place between two women.
here's the thing i thought about while reading this... when people read books and become involved in them, they weep for the characters and their situation or are filled with joy at their good fortune... hearts get fuzzy during intimate scenes... when i read books or watch movies about people, i get involved, whether the people are gay, straight, whatever... this book is clearly lesbian fiction (as it's called on the back cover)... personally, i think it would be a good read for anyone, finding yourself books always are, the human condition is the human condition, regardless of one's sexuality- pain is pain, love is love, joy is joy... but i know folks who would be put off by the fact that nancy is gay, would think the story is one they couldn't relate to, that makes me sad.. or maybe i'm not giving the reading world enough credit. i don't know.
wow. i love sarah water's writing, i've become so absorbed in this book, i feel things when nan feels them- the love, the excitement, shock, pain, anger, betrayl- it's so good i don't know if i can put it down.
it begins: Have you ever tasted a Whitstable oyster?
...in the first two pages I was craving fried oysters, salivating for seafood, i could smell it, practically taste it, mmmmm. i love when a book engages my senses.
this is one of the books i picked up yesterday, so i think i'm going to spend the afternoon reading it, and will write more thoughts later.
who doesn't love them? i've decided to go on a hunt for good bookstores.
my favorite used bookstore in chicago so far is after words on illinois and wabash... it's so well organized, and always a good deal but you can't always find what you're looking for at the used stores...
i'm also a fan of specialty stores... so today i journeyed up to andersonville to check out women and children first and i think i could definitely visit again... they were nice, they had a good selection, and they were playing excellent music...
bookstore hunting (much like tea room searching) is a great excuse to explore different parts of town. i bought four books... which one should i start??
a perfect saturday morning: poached egg on toast with butter and spike, a big mug of green tea, and a book.
i'm not sure how i felt about this one. i know that parts of it spoke to me, but i don't know how i took the book as a whole, i don't know that it really fit together the way i wanted it to. it jumped a bit too much and the string connecting each part was a little too loose from time to time. none the less, i discover myself in literature in the same manner as music. i suppose you can always find what you're looking for if you really go looking for it, the whole hermneutical circle thing... so some things popped out at me from the pages so i'm going to type them, and maybe share some thoughts, who knows... i really need to join a reading group... i think i miss that most from ac, reading as part of the community... ok, back on task...
Loving you is like lifting a heavy stone. It would be easier not to do it and I'm not quite sure why I'm doing it. It takes all my strength and all my determination, and I said I wouldn't love someone again like this. Is there any sense in loving someone you can only wake up to by chance?
effort. strength. determination. following your heart or following your head? walking into the flames once again even though you've already experienced the pain of being burned. love.
'What is it you want?' she said.
I want to be able to call you. I want to be able to knock on your door. I want to be able to keep your key and to give you mine. I want to be seen with you in public. I want there to be no gossip. I want to make supper with you. I want to go shopping with you. I want to know that nothing can come between us except each other.
me too.
You had once asked me if I was afraid of death. I said I was afraid of not living. I don't want to eke out my life like a resource in short supply. The only selfish life is a timid one. To hold back, to withdraw, to keep the best in reserve, both overvalues the self, and undervalues what the self is. Here's my life- I have to mine it, farm it, trade it, tenant it, and when the lease is up it cannot be renewed. This is my chance. Take it.
this is why we walk through flames. Why are so many people afriad of death? We know absolutely nothing about it. I think it is the cessation of life and thinking you haven't really lived that is the true fear in fear of death. she's right. when i go to bed each night and ponder what's happened during the day, i wonder if i've sucked all the marrow, if i've run wildly into living, or if i've retreated, if i've hidden out, if i've stayed in shallow water for fear of drowning when i could have soared.
I can't do it. I've been here before and it's not a room with a view. The only power I have is the negative power of withdrawl. If I don't withdraw I have no power at all. A relationship where one person has no power or negative power, isn't a relationship, it's the bond between master and slave.
'For God's sake give me a break!' 'I'd have to break myself.'
And then I'm thinking, why am I like this? Why?
When i read this this morning I just kind of paused, stop breathing, felt myself sucking in the air... most of my real (non surface level) discussions the past few days have involved the topic of power in relationships. how I am a strong woman, sturdy and well rooted in who I am, standing firm in my principles, straightforward, clear on who it is that I want to be. Despite this, for some reason, in intimate relationships I have a tendency to relinquish my power, I allow the other person's actions and words to completely alter my state of being, why do I do this? I actually had a moment in conversation with a friend where I realized how little I allow myself to be when trying to be intimately involved with an other. me: "I give up my control. I hand over all the power of the relationship to them. I make up excuses for their actions. These are the things people in abusive relationships do. What am I doing?" I don't think I do this in my friendships, but I do with those people i've fallen for, and maybe perhaps with my some of family. I'd never thought about any of this until three days ago. I feel like i'm reading my journal when I open up certain passages of this book.
'If you'll give up your past, I'll give up mine,' I said. (She looked at her suitcase.) 'I'll bring clothes, books and the cat. That's all.' (Her suitcase was getting bigger.) 'We can start again with furniture. We can make new friends.' (The suitcase was filling up the coffee house.) 'We'll rent an apartment overlooking the river.' (The suitcase was pressing against the walls.) 'With a bed and a chair and the morning sun.' (The suitcase was pressing against my chest.) 'When we open the windows, we'll be like birds.' (The suitcase was in my ribcage.) 'Our happiness will be like the flight of birds.'
so, i'm not sure if anyone actually reads this or not, but my bookshelf is running out of books, I need more to read, I'm going at about a book every two days or so, if you are reading this any suggestions for new reads of any kind would be greatly appreciated.
i know i never would have recognized the something missing in my reading life if i'd never read that first book by winterson that britt loaned me, but now that i've "found her" i can't get enough. i bought three of her books while i was in edinburgh and read this one on the flight home. her imagination blows my mind. her words are poetry. her books are some kind of modern day collection of proverbs, evoking thoughts that make you say "of course! yes. why had i never thought of it before?" sexing the cherry is mostly set in 17th century london, it manages to seem so real, and such a fairy tale all at the same time. it makes you think about time, reality, life, love. it's just a kick ass book. my favorite part is smack dab in the middle, the stories of what really happened to the 12 dancing princesses (you remember, the ones who escaped their room in the middle of the night and were always exhusted and their dancing shoes were always ruined)... there is a point in reading this book that i thought, it's so random, but then somehow she manages to weave it all together, leaving your soul warmed, leaving you hopeful for what is and was and is to come. it's a very thought provoking book. it's very good. i have yet to be disappointed by this author.
favorite quote... "Was I searching for a dancer wose name I did not know or was I searching for the dancing part of myself?"
special thanks to amysm for sending me stargirl. this is the book i read on the plane ride over to scotland. i guess it's classified as young adult fiction. stargirl is different. she is anything but "normal". she is the person in high school that everyone made fun of, but probably secretly everyone was so undeniably jealous of her self acceptance, her love for others, her freedom. all i can say about this book is that it's a fast read, it provoked tears, it made me laugh, and it made me want to know myself more. everyone could definitely benefit from reading this one.
and here's a brief quote from the book... "On the contrary, she is one of us. Most decidely. She is more us than we are us. She is, I think, who we really are. Or were."
Ich liebe dich, du sanftestes Gesetz Ich liebe dich, du sanftestes Gesetz, an dem wir reiften, da wir mit ihm rangen; du großes Heimweh, das wir nicht bezwangen, du Wald, aus dem wir nie hinausgegangen, du Lied, das wir mit jedem Schweigen sangen, du dunkles Netz,
darin sich flüchtend die Gefühle fangen.
Du hast dich so unendlich groß begonnen an jenem Tage, da du uns begannst, - und wir sind so gereift in deinen Sonnen, so breit geworden und so tief gepflanzt, dass du in Menschen, Engeln und Madonnen dich ruhend jetzt vollenden kannst.
Lass deine Hand am Hang der Himmel ruhn und dulde stumm, was wir dir dunkel tun.
I love you, gentlest of Ways
I love you, gentlest of Ways, who ripened us as we wrestled with you.
You, the great homesickness we could never shake off, you, the forest that always surrounded us,
you, the song we sang in every silence, your dark net threading through us,
on the day you made us you created yourself, and we grew sturdy in your sunlight....
Let your hand rest on the rim of Heaven now and mutely bear the darkness we bring over you.