Girl Detective

A friend of mine from my book group of beloved memory (Philly, mid 90’s) said Julian Barnes was one of her favorite authors. So in 1999 I bought copies of Flaubert’s Parrot and A History of the World in 10 1/2 Chapters; they’ve moved with me twice and I still hadn’t read them. But I dusted off (literally) Flaubert’s Parrot after I read Lydia Davis’ new translation of Madame Bovary this fall.

Books are where things are explained to you; life is where things aren’t. I’m not surprised some people prefer books. Books make sense of life. The only problem is that the lives they make sense of are other people’s lives, never your own. (168)

Barnes’ book is narrated by Geoffrey Braithwaite, a retired physician and amateur but obsessive Flaubert scholar. He discovers a puzzle no one else has: which parrot did Flaubert refer to in one of his books? The book follows his meandering thoughts as he moves in and out of Flaubert’s history and writing, and Braithwaite’s own life. It is an extremely clever book, with multiple meanings and purposes in its pages. The parrot of the title refers not just to a bird, but to Braithwaite, who shares a starting sound and last initial with Julian Barnes, whose entire novel is a parroting of sorts. Like Posy Simmonds’ Gemma Bovery, this is a modern riff on a classic and one that adds much to the reading of both. Good, good stuff. Not sure if it would be as good if I hadn’t just read Mme. B, though.

Impressed earlier this fall by Posy Simmonds Tamara Drewe graphic novel (not the movie adaptation, which I didn’t see), I sought out her earlier riff on the classic Madame Bovary, Gemma Bovery. (TD was a riff on Hardy’s Far from the Madding Crowd.)

Gemma is a self-involved artistic English woman who marries Charlie Bovery, who refurnishes antique furniture. Frustrated by their circumstances in London, they move to rural France. Their nosy neighbor, a portly white balding man, Joubert, narrates the story. He is a creepy ogler, fascinated by Gemma and her increasingly risky behavior.

If all this sounds familiar to those who’ve read Madame Bovary, it’s meant to. But as with the name and characters and situations, this is a modern take with significant differences as well. It does share with Flaubert, though, a skewering eye for detail that nonetheless makes its characters understandable, if not entirely sympathetic. After reading, I wondered why both Gemma Bovery and Tamara Drewe were narrated by portly, white, balding, intrusive men. Then I noted a similarity between these details and those of Hardy and Flaubert. Simmonds has done fascinating work, updating classics with words and pictures to tell the stories in a fresh, modern, sophisticated way. Highly recommended, but read the original first.

I first heard about Cakewalk, the food memoir by Kate Moses, at Tipsy Baker, who claimed that the recipe for chocolate chip cookies in it might be unbeatable. I mentally scoffed, as the recipe I use, by Pam Anderson*, is a slam-dunk that’s been requested numerous times. But I borrowed Cakewalk from the library and made the cookies. Very good, I thought, but I didn’t like how they turned -wise, since I wasn’t able to refrigerate the dough up to 48 hours as she suggested. Then I had to return the book, and wait a long time to get it again. This time I made the cookies with Moses’ ingredients and Anderson’s method of freezing scoops of dough for 30 minutes then baking in a 400 degree oven till they collapse, then finishing at 350. A bit fussy, yeah, but wow. The Moses recipe with the Anderson method might well be unbeatable.

So if you’re looking for a good chocolate-chip cookie recipe (and if you aren’t, why not?) get this book. But if you’re a fan of messed-up-family memoirs, like those of David Sedaris and Augusten Burroughs, and you like food, then this book’s for you. Also, it’s for those of you who loved Norah Ephron’s book and the movie adaptation of Heartburn. Kate Moses is a strong writer, and tells good stories, even when they’re full of tragedy, like her home life and her middle-school life, and more and more. Good book, good recipes. Highly recommended.

Life does not always reward us with the best cookie in the box, or the happiest family; sometimes you take what you get and make the best of it. In my case, that’s where imagination came in as handily as learning how to bake. For both of those lifesavers, I have my confusing, painful, unforgettable childhood to thank. Which makes me wonder if my cake obsession, really, is not much more than my struggle to find a way to redeem with sweetness those moments that left, however bitter on occasion, such a lasting taste in my mouth.

* Pam Anderson’s recipe is no longer available online, though apparently it’s in her book CookSmart, but here’s her recipe:

Perfect Chocolate Chip Cookies I use 3/4 cup whole wheat pastry flour and 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

2 1/4 cups bleached all-purpose flour (use a 3/4 cup measure for this and the sugars: 3 x 3/4 = 2 1/4.)
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
2 large eggs
1 tsp. vanilla
3/4 tsp. salt
14 Tbs. butter (2 sticks minus 2 Tbs.), cut into chunks
3/4 cup dark brown sugar
3/4 cup granulated sugar
2 Tbs. flavorless oil, such as vegetable or canola
1 1/2 cups chocolate chips or 8 ounces good-quality bittersweet or semisweet chocolate cut into 1/4-inch chunks, about 1 1/2 cup
OR
1 cup each chocolate chunks or chips and 1 cup toasted nuts (pecans, walnuts, unsalted peanuts or macadamias)

Mix flour, baking powder and baking soda in a medium bowl; set aside. Mix eggs, vanilla and salt in a small bowl; set aside. Microwave butter on high power until just melted but not hot, 30 to 45 seconds; set aside. Mix brown and granulated sugars in a large bowl. Add butter and oil; stir until smooth. Add egg mixture and stir until smooth and creamy. Add dry ingredients and stir until smooth. Stir in chocolate and optional nuts. Using a 1 1/2-ounce (3 Tbs.) ice cream scoop, spoon 16 dough balls onto a pan that will fit in your freezer. (Don’t worry if the dough balls are crowded. They pull apart when frozen.) Freeze until dough is hard, about 30 minutes. (Once dough balls are frozen, they can be stored in freezer bags up to 3 months and baked as desired.)

Meanwhile, adjust oven rack to upper middle position and heat oven to 400 degrees. Working in half batches, place 8 frozen dough balls onto a parchment-lined cookie sheet. Bake until set, but not brown, 8 to 10 minutes. Reduce oven temperature to 350 degrees. Continue to bake until cookies are golden-brown around the edges and lightly brown on the top, about 10 minutes longer. Let cookies cool on cookie sheet. Repeat, preheating oven to 400 degrees again before baking second batch.

Cookies can be stored in an airtight container up to 5 days.

In recent entries about the answer to “where do you find the time?” (here, from McSweeny’s, and a holiday version, in which I can’t believe I forgot to write: Don’t send cards, especially if all you’re doing to do is send pre-made cards with your signatures.) I noted my favorite Lee Smith quote about women writers. I was remiss in not mentioning my friend M who blogs at Mental Multivitamin, who has also influenced me, both in my attitude toward taking time, as well as in helping me teach myself what I value enough to take time for, like reading, writing, and, as she calls it, the life of the auto-didact.

If you struggle with finding time to read and write, or if you find yourself wrapped up in shoulds to the exclusions of things that nurture your self, be it emotional, intellectual, physical or spiritual, then this entry, and the links within it might help.

From “Where Do You Find the Time“:

I make time for the things without which I could not live — my family, my work, and my studies. And then I make time for the things among all the rest that will enliven my sense of self; and, of course, this has and always will include involvement with my community. But — and this is essential — it will be on my terms, not someone else’s

There is something about watching the same shows and movies every year that is a big part of holiday fun for me. And with DVDs, and no commercials, the experience is easier, and more enjoyable. I did a previous entry on family holiday movies, but we’ve continued, sometimes with all four of us, and sometimes with just my husband. And with It’s a Wonderful Life, it was just me.

National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation: I’d never seen this before, which is strange, given how many, many times I’ve seen the original recipe. Funny but mostly forgettable, with a very young Johnny Galecki, Juliette Lewis, and a very big-haired Julia Louis Dreyfus.

Holiday Inn. Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire fight over girls. I’m on team Fred. His dancing is way cooler than Bing’s singing. Most famous for its introduction of “White Christmas”, but less famous than the film of the same name, since this one has a troubling sequence in blackface that was interestingly edited out of the version we watched on AMC.

Emmett Otter’s Jug Band Christmas with Jim Hensen’s Muppets. The Russell and Lillian Hoban Christmas book was a favorite in my family, though now out of print. Still available, though, is the DVD of the muppet adaptation, which skews a bit more to the sweet than the bitter; the book was more balanced. Be sure to watch the “out takes.”

Year without a Santa Claus. Heat Miser and Snow Miser. The kids enjoyed this one, and it reminds me fondly of being a kid at Christmas.

The Shop Around the Corner. MY FAVORITE HOLIDAY MOVIE. Anyone who doesn’t smile and laugh during this romantic comedy is a grinch. There’s sad stuff, too, but really, the whole thing is just lovely. If you haven’t seen it, do.

Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town. This is the one with the penguin and Winter Warlock. It also has some trippy musical interludes, during which 4yo Guppy asked, “Is this still part of the story?”

It’s a Wonderful Life. Only the second time I’ve seen it, I was again struck by the very dark undercurrent that’s easy to ignore with its “happy” ending. George Bailey dreams of getting out of his small town and becoming an architect. Instead, he stays and works at a savings and loan, gets married and has four kids. While I love, love, love the scene when George and Mary are walking home from the dance, the rest of the film is depressing, the more I think about it, e.g., he’s still going to have to pay back the $8000.

I’m going to try and watch Meet Me in St. Louis, and I think that’ll be all for this year. I’ve never yet seen A Christmas Story or Scrooged, and I’d like to see Love, Actually again, so I’ll keep them in mind for next year.

I’ve written before about about making time, and leaving things undone like cleaning and laundry so that reading and writing are priorities. I find myself especially taxed, every holiday season. The weather encourages me to stay in, hunker down and hibernate, yet the merry-go-round of events gets bigger all the time. Here, as I cram in a blog post, are a few ways I’ve found time over the holidays.

1. Fake tree.
2. Low expectations
3. Didn’t decorate the outside of house
4. Gift bags
5. Say no, especially if “should” and “want” conflict.
6. Read
7. Write

Overall, I’ve been mulling a mantra for a while now that I think I want to commit to: Do one fewer thing.

Try it. Delete something off the list, undone. Sweep it off the mental shelf it’s on. Just _don’t_ do it. Create a little breathing space. Then, breathe.

I have fond memories of watching Rudolph and the other animated specials every year, so I’ve been slowly building up a library of holiday movies for us to watch as a family every year. My husband G. Grod isn’t so into the whole every-movie every-year thing as I am, but we all know he’s not as compulsive as I am, either. And aren’t holiday traditions all about the compulsivity?

We started off with Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. This year nearly 5yo Guppy wasn’t scared of the Bumble, and both boys enjoyed it. And on IMDB, I found the answer for why “Dolly for Sue” is on the Island of Misfit Toys: “This gripping debate raged on for decades, until official word from Rankin-Bass recently decided the issue: Dolly for Sue is a “misfit” because she has psychological problems - she feels unloved.” Also, another burning misfit question answered: “When the elf drops the blue train from Santa’s sleigh, he no longer has the caboose with square wheels, the one thing that made him a misfit. Also, the bird who couldn’t fly is shown leaving the sleigh without an umbrella. Though not stated, it could be implied that Santa was able to use his magic to fix the misfit toys’ problems.” And the misfit scene at the end was added on after viewers protested that they weren’t revisited in the original. Nowhere on IMDB does it address why it’s Herbie at the beginning of the show and Hermie later on.

The 1965 A Charlie Brown Christmas was a harder sell. 7yo Drake remembered not liking it, and was bored and flopsy for most of it. He perked up for the 1992 sequel It’s Christmastime Again, Charlie Brown which not only is not good, but contradicts the anti-commercial message of the first one. Inexplicably, the boys preferred the sequel.

Next was The Muppets’ Christmas Carol, with Michael Caine as Scrooge and Kermit as Bob Cratchit and Robin (*cough, cough*) as tubercular Tiny Tim. Guppy had some time behind his hands and under the blanket during the many ghost parts, but did OK. Drake remembered much of it from the previous year. I enjoyed the Marley brothers, Jacob and “Robert” who were surrounded by noisy cashboxes in a tribute to Bob Marley and the Wailers.

I chose Miracle on 34th Street next. Guppy’s refrain throughout was “when is the exciting part?” I told him it was the courtroom scene. He did not agree. Drake was mostly bored during, but enjoyed the ending. I think this is more a grownup than a kid movie, or at least little kid movie.

Last night, we borrowed Elf from a friend. I thought it would be a hit, with its childish humor. Instead, Drake hid under the blanket every time Will Ferrell did something embarrassing (i.e., almost every scene) and continually moaned “I hate this movie!” He did not, though, leave the room though we suggested it more than once, and did cop to liking the ending. Again, not so much for the little kids, and maybe never for Drew, who couldn’t stomach the awkward comedy like that of Will Ferrell and The Office.

Next I’m going for Emmet Otter’s Jug Band Christmas. G. Grod has declined to join us. But I think this will be a bit more kid friendly.

Hey, I’m posting this four days earlier than I did last year! Woo hoo! For all those other parents who aren’t quite finished buying gifts for their kids, here is the article I love best on what (and what not) to get them.

I’m not sure we or our families have gotten them one gift in every category. For example, they don’t need more toys to love. The plastic Zhou Zhou pets they got in the Burger King happy meal earlier this week seem to have filled that niche quite effectively. (No judgment allowed on taking my kids to BK, as I know some moms might do. It was one of TWO snow days earlier this week, the week BEFORE winter break. We met friends in the play area. The kids played for 2.5 hours, loved their hamsters, and didn’t even eat much of the “food” I got them.)

From the archives, on gift giving for kids:
Star Tribune 12/24/89 - Pat Gardner “Tender Years”

The weeks of hectic preparation are coming to a close. Within days, the magic will begin to unfold for our children and, vicariously through them, for us. Just as we remember those wonderful Christmas Eves and mornings long ago, our children will one day look back on these days. How will they remember them? What are you giving your children this year?

I know one family of modest means that makes a great effort to celebrate Christmas in the best way possible. Their children always find five gifts under the tree. And more than that, the gifts are always accompanied by a parent. Here’s how they do it.

The children always receive a gift to hug and love. Sometimes it’s a doll or maybe a stuffed animal. Every Christmas each child has something to care for, to carry along and finally at night to share a bed, secrets and dreams.

The wise parents know that the children will themselves learn to care for others by practicing on dolls and stuffed animals. Mom and Dad demonstrate rocking the stuffed bear and wiping the doll’s face. They talk about being gentle and giving care.

More important, they treat their children tenderly. They make a special effort at this busy time of year for a little more lap time, more frequent hugs and all the physical care and attention their young children need.

The children in this family always receive something to read. The parents know that to give them books is to give them wings. The little ones get books, and the big ones get books. Books aren’t foreign to any member of this family. Books are treasures. And more than that, they become a daily connection between parent and child.

The wise parents know that the best way to raise a reader is to read to a child….They share curiosity. They take the time to listen patiently to their beginning reader. They share discoveries. Through books, these parents explore worlds within their home and beyond their front door with all of their children.

The children receive toys and games. These parents are concerned about each child’s skills and find fun ways to enhance their present capabilities and encourage further development. For a grasping baby, a crib gym; for a beginning walker, a push toy; for a pre-schooler, a shape and color sorter; for a beginning reader, a game of sequence and strategy.

The parents know that play is the work of childhood. They understand that to meet a child at her level of accomplishment is to encourage success in play. Success stimulates motivation and interest in a challenge. So the parents judge their toy and game choices carefully. Not too easy, but not too hard.

They they do the most important thing. They play with their children. The children see that learning is a toy, that it’s fun to challenge oneself, that play can be a very social activity, that it’s OK to win and also to lose and that Mom and Dad wholeheartedly approve of play.

The children in this family always receive a gift of activity. From a simple ball or jump rope to a basketball hoop or a pair of ice skates, they always have one gift that encourages action.

The parents know that those children who, by nature, are very active may need to be channeled into acceptable and appropriate activities. And they know that those children who, by nature, are very passive may need to be encouraged to move with purpose. But their message to their children is that physical activity is important and good.

These parents make their message clear by joining their children in physical play. They skate and play catch. They’re on the floor with their crawlers and walk hand in hand with their toddlers. They get bumped and bruised and laugh and shout. They sled and they bowl. And many times in the next few weeks when resting on the couch sounds much more inviting, these parents will give their kids one more gift. They’ll get up and play with them.

The children always receive a gift of artistic expression. They might find crayons, paints or markers in their stockings. It might be a gift of clay this year or rubber stamps or scissors and glue. The materials change, but the object remains the same: create with joy.

These wise parents aren’t terribly concerned about the mess of finger paints. They’re more concerned about the exposure to unique sensations. They want their children to use their imaginations. They want their children to approach life in a hands-on fashion. And they want them to express themselves through their artistic activities in ways that exceed their vocabularies.

I get asked this often. Where do you get the time to read? to write? to go to yoga class or bicycling?

This is a humorous, yet pretty accurate answer, from Jessica Francis Kane, at McSweeney’s, via The Morning News. The more I read it, the more I kinda love it.

Where Do You Find the Time?

It’s occasionally been found in speeding taxis and Paris hotel rooms. Alpine meadows and mourning doves are rich in it, though can be hard to find. Forget about fountains and rainbows, they’re myths. Rarely it falls from geese flying north. Sometimes sunlight on water contains trace amounts. Check in the attic and under the peonies, but it moves fast and is hard to catch. Now and then it has been stolen from babies sleeping on airplanes. From girls reading in parks. From headlines and editorials. If you never take a water aerobics class, you’ll have more time than some. Give up all hope, and you might get a little more. Say no. Smile. Read. Read even when you should be sleeping. That time counts double. I-95 is a gold mine, though you’ll have to fight others for the time found there. Take the bus. Follow the river. Don’t be afraid to be late. Read poetry. Poetry gives time back, but most people don’t know it. Never watch television. Movies are fine. Documentaries are better. Sometimes, read novels in translation. Just consider it. Don’t remodel your kitchen. Don’t remodel anything. Don’t even think about it! Hire a babysitter, or not. Make do. Let your spouse help. Stay calm. Go to New York. Leave New York. Again, never take a water aerobics class. Don’t get a dog. Decorate minimally, including holidays. Maintain no position on Halloween costumes or children’s birthday parties. Use gift bags. Shop rarely. Spot clean. Keep a notebook. Copy. Borrow. Mimic. Steal. Never offer to be class parent. Volunteer elsewhere, if you must. Do not scrapbook. Avoid cooking. Bake once in a while. Rewrite, repeat. Listen to music. Have a drink.

If you do all this, one day you might find a package on your doorstep. Open it carefully. Inside will be time, tied in bundles of a thousand, smelling of jasmine. Congratulations! It’s all yours. Now hide it well.

I re-read Await Your Reply by Dan Chaon, ostensibly for Books and Bars. But for those of you who don’t live in MN, we got a monster storm last weekend with 16+ inches followed by bitter sub-zero weather. The streets are plowed out mostly, but parking and the cold are still formidable. I skipped B & B and stayed home, snuggled down on the loveseat with my husband and 2 boys for The Muppet Christmas Carol. 7yo Drake remembered many details from last year. 4yo Guppy covered his eyes at the scary parts. And husband G. Grod didn’t quite stay awake for the whole thing. The Marley brothers, Jacob and “Robert”? Ha! It was a satisfying night.

But, back to Await Your Reply, which I read earlier this year and thought was very good. A re-read not only confirmed, but increased my high opinion of it. This is a smart, fast-paced mystery, with sympathetic and fascinating characters. Ryan is a young man who has recently met his birth father and established a relationship with him. Lucy is a high school senior who runs off with her history teacher from small-town Pompey, Ohio. And Miles Cheshire has been trying to find his missing twin Hayden for over a decade. The chapters alternate among these three tales and six characters. The momentum and connections build until the book becomes hard to, and irritating to have to, put down. I found it well worth re-reading, noticing many more small details that flew by me the first time, and making me wonder at all the things I still might be missing, including allusions Chaon refers to in the author interview at the end of the TPB.

Read this book. And read it again. I do not think you’ll be disappointed. Enthralled, rather.

Wondering: why was this book not included in the 2010 Morning News Tournament of Books? I think it could have handily bested the winner of last year, Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel.

Obsessive book-geek good news: The long list for the 2011 tournament was published this morning!

Obsessive book-geek better news: They’re accepting applications for a guest judge! I’m going to apply! I’m all aquiver with geek joy.

A selection for my book group, Finding Beauty in a Broken World is hard to categorize. Non-fiction, certainly, but what–art and ethics, perhaps? The book feels like a long meditation, in the true sense of the word, not just the book-blurb sense of the word. It’s split into three main sections, one on mosaic making in Italy, one on prairie dogs communities in the west, and the final on post-genocide Rwanda. Based on her description of Rwanda, I hesitated about whether to put “post” in quotes. The three seemingly and actually disparate topics are tied together because of their broken nature, and the enduring suffering of the endangered and hunted prairie dogs, and the surviving Rwandans. Into the interstices, Williams weaves anecdotes of her family, particularly the death of her brother. This is a profoundly moving book on topics I’d likely not read about on my own, and one in which the author, and by extension the reader, to confront ugly truths about humans and our relation to each other and to earth.

It reminded me of the term Tikkun Olam, a Hebrew phrase that means repairing the world. There are myriad understandings and interpretations, but the most common is that the world is broken, and by performing mitzvot, acts of social justice, we can bring the world closer to unity. One interpretation of the glass-stomping ritual during the Jewish wedding ceremony is that the glass symbolizes the broken world, and the marriage the possibility of union and wholeness in the face of that.

A deceptively quick book to read with a subject that demands pause and reflection, provocative in the best meaning of the word.

One of my favorite quotes about writing is one I’ve posted before, but it bears repeating, if only for myself, though I bet for many other of my readers, by Lee Smith, for an interview she did at Indiebound:

My advice for young women writers is just do it. Don’t wait for some ideal point in your life when you will finally have “time to write.” No sane person ever has time to write. Don’t clean the bathroom, don’t paint the hall. Write. Claim your time. And remember that a writer is a person who is writing, not a person who is publishing. If you are serious about it, you will realize early on that (particularly if you expect to have children) you can’t take on a high-power career in addition to writing. You probably can’t be a surgeon, and have children, and “write on the side.” (On the other hand, you could marry a surgeon, thereby solving the whole problem.)

I have learned to live with levels of dirt, mess and laundry that I previously would not have tolerated. Writing is on my Maslow’s list of basic needs somewhere after sleeping, eating and reading. I do use the TV as a babysitter. As I write this, my boys are playing Gran Turismo on the Playstation downstairs. But isn’t that fair? I’m having screen time, so are they. Yeah, I’d like to restrict them to an hour a day. Most days I do. But how can I do that when I don’t restrict myself to that, and wouldn’t want to, or even think I should?

I have been writing for years. I’ve been published in other places beside this blog. This year, for the first time, I began to be paid for some writing. I am a writer. And writing with kids is hard. They’re smart. They recognize they’re not getting my attention, and clamor more for it till they get it, for better or worse. A friend of mine had her 3yo throw her laptop on the ground. So I find ways to squeeze it in. While they’re watching movies. Playing outside. My husband and I trade off chunks of time with them so the other of us can work. I trade playdates with other moms on a regular, scheduled basis so I get chunks of time to work; I work better in chunks than in slivers.

I write. I keep writing. Writing begets more writing. It’s a habit, just like exercise. It IS exercise. I’ve put fiction on hold till my 4yo Guppy is in school full time. That may be Fall 2011, or if he only gets into half-day kindergarten, it may not be till September 2012. And for all those platitude-spouting people who say the time goes so fast? I don’t find that’s the case; September 2011, and definitely 2012, feel a long way off. The only time I find going fast is the quiet time apart from kids when I take time to read and write. I love my kids and spending time with them. I am fortunate enough to be a stay-at-home mom by choice. But I also love spending time by myself. And writing.

Yesterday’s blog post was supposed to be about making time to write. You’ll notice that it didn’t appear, as it hasn’t yet been written.

Instead, my husband asked yesterday if I’d make cookies so he could participate in his friends’ cookie swap at work. So I’ve been nerdishly finding recipes, making trips to _3_ different stores (though all were part of 2 combined trips for other things.) And not writing. (This doesn’t count. This is thinking “aloud.”)

Anyone care to wager how many of five recipes I’ll end up making? Here’s the pie-in-the-sky (or rather, cookies-in-the-sky) list: Metropolitan millet muffins (which I wrote about before but am not going back to find the link for; sorry! See–not writing; thinking aloud.) 2 types of cake-mix cookie (to compare, of course), red velvet whoopie pies, buckeyes and mint thumbprints. Also prepping to take a meal to a sick friend for tomorrow.

So, writing? Not so much. Also, please feel free to leave comments, as many of you do. I’m getting SLAMMED with spam lately, so approving (or not) comments has gotten discouraging.

Of the two, guess which of An Education or Goonies we watched for family movie night? Both had their merits, as well as drawbacks.

An Education is the Nick Hornby penned adaptation of a school memoir by Lynn Barber. It has great performances by Carey Mulligan in the lead, Peter Sarsgard as the older man with the shady past, and others. So it’s a surprise that a film full of good performances felt flat to me. Several montages, plus the classical music score that made obvious emotions even more so, made me lose interest in this mostly predictable film. Only OK, with some good bits about it.

The Goonies was my pick for family movie night after 4yo Guppy refused to watch Snow White. Why? “I hate princesses!”

“What about Princess Leia?” asked my husband G. Grod.

Guppy sighed. “_Disney_ princesses.” he said, as if this were obvious. While I’m thrilled to have raised a child averse to Disney princesses (could I have done this with a girl? do I have that kind of power?) I did want to watch our collector’s edition of Snow White. So we went to the video store as a family (because I cannot justify even the lowest level of Netflix given how many unwatched dvds, e.g., Snow White collector’s edition, we own), stood around, picked things, argued, ogled the candy, and all in all spent way more time than we’d planned to there. It was kind of nice; who does that anymore? But I suggested the Steven Spielberg produced, Richard Donner directed Goonies, because I knew it was a childhood favorite of G. Grod’s, and because I’d never seen it. The kids agreed.

The Goonies is an 80’s movie about eviction, rich kids vs. poor kids, pirate treasure, robbers, and a chained monster who lives underground. It’s kind of like an action/adventure middle-school version of The Breakfast Club and St. Elmo’s Fire. There were a few scary bits beyond my boys’ comfort zone (a corpse and the monster, but the gunshots didn’t faze them), but it was mostly enjoyable for them. The biggest drawback for me was the bad language; these kids were dropping four-letter words like crazy. Nineteen “shits” and that doesn’t count various “asses” and others. While I did the same thing in middle school, it’s not behavior I want to highlight for my kids. In the end they really enjoyed it, so I count it as a win. If you do rent this, be sure to watch the Cyndi Lauper video on the extras. It is jaw-droppingly bizarre, as if a high-school tv class made a video on a Spielberg set that just happened to star Cyndi Lauper, pro wrestlers, and the Goonies kids. And Benihana chefs.

I recently finished reading the newest translation of Madame Bovary. A Julian Barnes article on translation made me wonder at the recent hype, and this piece on translated works at Boston.com articulated the question that had been nagging at me:

We have been imbibing “Bovary,’’ “Zhivago,’’ “War and Peace,’’ and a host of other classics quite peaceably for decades. Is it possible that the lust for lucre, rather than the luster of literary merit, drives this rush to push new/old product onto the shelves?

Certainly the “new!” aspect of it makes it seem more desirable, and gets more press. But I’m now suspicious, and wondering if I haven’t been duped. Link from Blog of a Bookslut.

I recently read Thomas Hardy’s Far from the Madding Crowd. Because the text of the editions vary, and because I wanted to read more about the book, I borrowed two other editions from the library and picked up yet another used. I thought it might be useful to share the pros and cons I found of each edition. Keep in mind I’m not a formal scholar, but an auto-didactic home reader; these are impressions of the whole book, not rigorous reviews.

The New York Public Library collector’s edition Far from the Madding Crowd is a lovely small hardcover with a dust jacket. Included are all illustrations by Helen Paterson from the original serial publication, as well as photos of Hardy and hand-written pieces by him and Virginia Woolf, whose father, Leslie Stephen, was Hardy’s editor. It has a well-written introduction but does not specify which edition this volume was based on, or who wrote the introduction and the notes, such as this cranky one on Michael Millgate’s 1971 Thomas Hardy: His Career as a Novelist:

Still the single best study of Hardy’s fiction, written with clarity and grace, back in those ancient days, well before postmodernism began to motor through “the text,” which one Hardy deconstructor has rather alarmingly described as “a fissured, riven, deranged, unstable linguistic terrain.”

If this edition had notes, foot- or end-, I would have appreciated it. There are many archaic, rustic terms and Biblical and mythical references. I wished for more information, so read the notes from other editions.

The Norton Critical Edition Far from the Madding Crowd has a brief forward, followed by the novel with footnotes. After the novel are nearly 200 pages of background and criticism. I appreciated reading excerpts from several authors about many aspects of the book, but wished for a more edited selection. As an object, the book has no charm in form or feel. It felt like something I would only buy if I had to.

The Modern Library Far from the Madding Crowd is a trade paperback with a good but brief introduction by Margaret Drabble. Notes are at the end, by chapter and a reading group guide is included. Reasonably priced, this would be a good selection for a book group.

The Penguin Classics Far From the Madding Crowd has a very different text from the other three, which were based on later editions of the novel that had been much edited by Hardy. The Penguin edition contains a version of the original manuscript prior to its being edited (some would say, censored) and published as a serial; note the capital F in From in the Penguin title (me, rolling my eyes.) The Penguin is a substantively different edition than what most readers are familiar with–ones edited by Hardy later in life. I compared one of the key chapters (42). While there was much edited out in the other editions, I felt the later version was more suspenseful and less mawkish than the original. It has endnotes and a glossary, as well as a good introduction, but this seems for scholars and completists more than the average reader.

An interesting oops: I reserved a copy of Far from the Madding Crowd from the Oxford Bookworms series, hoping it would be a student version of the Oxford World Classics series, which I like. Instead, it’s an illustrated re-telling, probably intended for kids who don’t want to read the actual book.

I have not seen a copy from my favorite series, the Oxford World Classics Far from the Madding Crowd, but suspect this would be like the Modern Library edition–a good edition, introduction and set of notes.

There is a well-regarded film version, Far from the Madding Crowd (1967) starring Julie Christie, and a Masterpiece Theater Far from the Madding Crowd (1998).