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More books I'm barely reading (FEEL the excitement)

I am officially reading an insane number of books. I don't know when it got this out of hand. I suspect early January. I have one book I'm technically ACTUALLY reading, and then five billion others (slight exaggeration possibly) I'm picking up at random intervals. So this being my blog where I talk about unfinished books, let's look at some of them:

Lamb, Christopher Moore. Ah, recommended by Alley and then forcibly lent me by someone (for reals, we didn't discuss it; he didn't ask; it was just shoved at me). I'm...liking it? Yes. I am liking it thus far. But I am not very far.


Surpassing the Love of Men, Lillian Faderman. Right. This book. How to explain this book. The title is awful, but it's a product of the 1970s and WE WERE FEELING A LITTLE DEFENSIVE OK. I actually passed this book with an eye-roll about ten times at the library before I found out that 1) Lillian Faderman is the best, and 2) Oh, it's actually a historical/literary survey of romantic friendship from the Renaissance to the present and AMAZING. I just try to shield the cover when I'm on the train.

Oscar Wilde's Last Stand, Philip Hoare. This was recommended to me by the awesome Jenny of Jenny's Books. If you don't know her blog, you should go there now. (p.s. Alley I love you, too, but everyone here knows you) It's about a trial NOT of Oscar Wilde, 'cause he be dead already, but concerning him. I have been assured the trial is the sensational-est, which is helping me get through the author's occasionally ridiculous prose. I haven't gotten to the trial yet, but it IS giving a nice general summary of England from around 1910-1920. Summary thus far: everything was fun and then everything was not fun.

Diana Victrix, Florence Converse. A novel from 1897 concerning romantic friendship, mentioned in Surpassing. Contains my favorite line, "I shall punch your head!", as well as "I prefer a woman who has not quite so markedly the figure of a cotton-bale." Florence Converse, I wish you were still alive so we might go to tea.

Anna and the French Kiss, Stephanie Perkins. You know what, the cover for this is not great. But I was told by someone I respect to ignore that aspect, and it is actually quite excellent. The opening paragraph is stellar and made me fond of the narrator, so good job, Perkins. Hopefully the novel continues to be good after the first two chapters, for that is all I've read.

And then...others. I went to the library yesterday, for I am dumb. When I finish Surpassing, I have Inseparable by Emma Donoghue, as well as her Passions Between Women, which I suspect will overlap a bit with Surpassing. I actually started it, but she contests some of Faderman's theories, so I was like "Well, I guess I should read HER book first."

I'm terrified of writing my post(s) on Surpassing, mainly because -- remember my review on a history of heterosexuality? Yeah. That book was like 150 pages, and I was still like "Omggg I'm not going to be able to say everything I need to say." This book is 415 pages. And covers so....so very much. So I'll probably split it into 1) A summary of some things and then 2) More feelingsy type stuff. 

One quote from it, about Revolutionary War soldier Deborah Sampson: Deborah decided to enlist in the army in earnest...because her mother had been urging her to marry a young man whom Deborah described in her manuscript memoir as 'having the silliness of a baboon.'

Good stuff.

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