The Grapes of Wrath: The Endening

There're gonna be spoilers here. Because it's the end of the book. But first I would LIKE to say that due to being exposed to the stomach flu this weekend, my yesterday and today have been particularly fever- and sore muscle-ridden. I'm probably going to be blunter than usual in this post. Couple that with an unfortunately nasty text I received on the way to work, and my day was not looking too spiffy this morning, UNTIL I got to work and found this in the mail:

Thank you, Laura. Your timing was perfect.

So basically, book bloggers are the best and I love you all.

What I did NOT particularly love was probably this book. There are definitely certain chapters I would read again and again, because it's Steinbeck and he's lovely, but there's just SO MUCH of his upsetness woven in here that I can't see it as much other than a desperate plea for people not to be assholes. And that's great. But I don't know that it can make for the best literature. When an author gets really emotional about their own theme, I tend to start tuning them out. Everything they write is going to be written to support their point, and that's particularly annoying when they can play God and make everyone in their universe do what they want.

The ending felt meandering, and the longass rain thing was weird, and I'm sure pretty much everyone is going to have a big 'WTF' about the ending.

Seriously, Steinbeck

I found that by the end, I didn't really have any feelings about any of the characters. I really hated Ruthie. I still like Al, but he wasn't in it enough. Everyone was just constantly depressed or starving or trying to figure out how to survive off 30 cents, and I can't do that for too long in a book. This is probably why I hate Tess of the D'Urbervilles. No one's true personality shows, because everyone has to deal with adversity ALL THE TIME. And seriously, Ruthie, you are a dick. I hope you get punched in the face.

me at the end of this book

I think generally happy books for a while, yes? Yes. But I do want to thank Laura for hosting. She is awesome and has done a bang-up job. And I'm really glad I read it, because American Classic by Steinbeck. Which I shall probably never read again in its entirety, because WHY WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO YOURSELF.

Oh, lastly -- one of the characters: "People is goin' on--changin' a little, maybe, but goin' right on."

LIKE THE TURTLE. Full circle. Done.

Badass ladies in film and how our society is getting awesomer

There is a 30something professional couple that walks in front of me in the morning on my way to work. They walk extraordinarily briskly and sometimes hold hands and always kiss goodbye at the corner where I turn. If they ever break up, I will cry.

I watched the first four Resident Evil movies this weekend with my 16-year-old brother (the fourth is the best one). See, they really all bleed into each other, and the very end of the fourth is the setup for the fifth, which is WHY at the beginning of the fifth, I had no idea what was going on. "There's a boat? What? Hm? People are shooting? Ok." But it made me think about -- wait for it -- representations of women in action films and what this meeeans. Although it's really pretty much gonna be Resident Evil. 'Cause I just saw four of them.

The main thing that actually surprised me in the movies is that Milla Jovovich is, IMO, barely sexualized. True, she starts out naked in almost every movie, but that's more "WHY IS SHE NAKED. WHERE IS SHE. WHICH TESTING FACILITY IS THIS." The movies are overwhelmingly dominated by women, few of whom are given love interests, because ZOMBIES. And I'm just going to assume the main demographic for these movies is dudes, so well DONE, Hollywood.

If anything, I think it's proving that guys are getting much more comfortable seeing a totally kickass female being exactly that, with no 'ah, but he was her one weakness' crap to get in the way of cutting off zombie heads.

Or doing this thing

I'm gonna go ahead and say that Trinity in 1999's The Matrix was the beginning of this. Goodness knows the male-heavy superhero movies haven't helped much (even though Black Widow is awesome). A relatively unsexualized female badass? That would've been almost unheard of even 20 years ago (Michelle Pfeiffer's Catwoman, you are my favorite, but licking people does not help your case).

I mean ok. People in business are scared to try new things because they might not make money. But because there are now a number of franchises featuring a badass lady (I'm going to count Kate Beckinsale's Underworld even though I haven't seen any of them), they're more comfortable making movies about them. This has, of course, been helped by kids growing up with Hermione Granger, Katniss Everdeen, and that chick from Graceling who seems pretty cool. It hasn't been helped by Bella Swan, but who cares about Bella Swan? (aside from Edward, who likes to watch her in her sleep like a normal person)

Basically, I'm psyched. And to quote Grapes of Wrath, "the on'y thing you got to look at is that ever' time they's a little step fo'ward, she may slip back a little, but she never slips clear back." Meaning we're done with Spider-Man 3, 'let's have all the guys be superheroes and they can take turns rescuing Mary Jane' bullshit. Huzzah.

In stormy news, my brother and his boyfriend are in NYC, and Alley, whom we all love, is in Long Island, so let's all hope they don't get eaten by Frankenstorm. All of you in the northeast, FILL YOUR BATHTUBS. And if you do not have a bathtub, I dunno, fill buckets or something. Also buy food things. We are CONCERNED about you.

The Grapes of Wrath: I HAVE BELATED THOUGHTS

So I've (basically) done the reading, and I have Thoughts on the 3/4 mark of Grapes of Wrath. Which shall be SUMMARIZED, because it's late in the day/week.

John Ernst Steinbeck, what are you doing. I know you were probably frustrated by how the people emigrating from the Heartland were being treated, and the destitution you saw, but SIR. It was the Great Depression. Things were bad in a lot of places, and not just with farmers, and not just because of tractors. And despite how this section was, in reality a lot of people are not nice. They just aren't. Which is why you can't paint the government camp as this utopian ideal of civilization. It's portrayed like heaven, and if someone is bad, they get kicked out. But if you want all of society to be like that, TO WHERE DO THE BAD PEOPLE GET KICKED? There are so. SO many problems with your ideal. It only works (MAYBE works) in a microcosm.

Chapter 23 is poetry. It's beautiful. Let us all respect chapter 23, except for the next point.

Steinbeck's opinion on religion changed, I think, between Grapes of Wrath and East of Eden, because he's got a damn bee in his bonnet about it here. And fine. Be upset about some of the bad aspects. We all are. But saying that people trying to be humble before God "grovel and whine on the ground" is tremendously not ok.

Two best lines in this section:

And she strode away titanically, and her eyes shone with virtue.

Rose of Sharon kept her eyes resentfully on the potatoes.

"This concept of 'wuv' confuses and infuriates us!"

Skipping readalong posts in my awesome readalong group (you really should join) is the worst, because not only do you keep optimistically thinking you'll finish the reading and be able to post, but you can't read OTHER people's posts because you're behind. And you can't blog about other things out of guilt (unless you're Tika). So here we are, Thursday and still no Grapes of Wrath post. What I WILL say about what I've read is that it's swell, but the government camp is absurdly idealized. ABSURDLY I SAY. 

So obviously I've been trying to read Grapes this week, and not a lot else has gone on other than Life Things (booooo). I watched the three aired episodes of Elementary, and get ON that, because Jonny Lee Miller and Lucy Liu and their hilarious dynamic. And don't be all stupid and say you're upset because they're copying Sherlock, for the shows are COMPLETELY different. And *cough* I might like Elementary better. 

I've been contemplating love this week, folks. Stupid, stupid love, in all its futility. Now normally, people who do this and say pseudo-deep, cynical things, like calling it "inefficient" (which I've been doing all week) annoy the hell out of me. But since it's now MY turn to do this, I am, of course, being forgiving.

Essentially: romantic love is dumb and almost never works, but since it triggers super-nice feelings in our brains, we keep trying for it. This is also aided by what we see in film, tv and books. Since this is a book blog, maybe we should check out some various bookish eras and how they dealt with love. 

Romantic: "Oh no, I'm in love with my sister/best friend's wife/unattainable person! I shall kill myself and save her the misery of my unwanted affections. OH that my presence ever came to be on this wretched earth!" (Romantics suck) 

Regency: "I think...maybe I like you a bit. Your income is how much?...hm, yes, I do believe I love you." 

Victorian: "Look, I liked you and you liked me, but you were raped by that guy and got pregnant, so you're a whore and now I don't like you." (fuck you, Thomas Hardy) Alternative Victorian: "You're such an ASSHOLE. Let's get married." 

Aesthetes: "Ha-hah, let's get married and use many puns."

Jazz Age: "WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME -- LOOK at all the nice shirts I have. Did you need something other than shirts? You know what I need? Booze. Also women suck." 

Current: *mostly in YA* "Oh, you like Random Obscure Band? You must have excellent taste in everything. And a PIERCING in an odd place, how grand. Can you also say clever things indicating a maturity beyond your years? Let us wed. Oh, but you died of cancer. Boo."



*goes into a corner and eats massive amounts of chocolate*

Peter Gabriel: Helping Young Men Throughout the Ages

This post is brought to you by Josh Dallas's arms.

Yeah. You mine that coal. Or whatever you're doing.

WELL. Did everyone have an eventful, cultured weekend? 'Cause, hah, I did. If part of eventful means traveling 20 miles on the Metra to Glencoe to see Hamlet, but then leaving again when the actress my friend and I went to see had an understudy. Because that happened. But I found a pinecone! And carried it back to Chicago with me, for we do not see such things here. On SUNDAY, my friend who works at our natural history museum took me in and I got to see extreme mammals (a subject dear to my heart, because GIANT ANIMALS FROM THE PAST) and Indian art/fancy jewelry. And then -- oh, and then, I met up with Beth Fama in Hyde Park, for she promised to show me the former sites of the 1893 Columbian Exposition, and show me she did! Her family is delightful, as is she.

Yeah. Check that picturesque shit out.

We walked around the University of Chicago, where I was only slightly bitter about them rejecting me (you see this blog, U of C? YOU COULD HAVE HAD ALL OF THIS). Also the weather was perfect. But anyway. This just further solidifies in my mind the notion that book blogger/author people are awesome and we should all get together and have a pizza party like in second grade when everyone read enough books and got Pizza Hut points, only OUR second grade pizza party will be way awesomer because we'll have booze.

Your literary thought for today is teenage Robert Browning holding up a boombox outside Elizabeth Barrett's house. "IIIN YOOOUR EYES."

And Then There Were None (The Final, Non-Racist Title)

It is FRIDAY. And everyone's being all lame at updating, whereas I have genuinely finished a book, so updating ahoy! Also Sherlock and Irene Adler posted photos on twitter and they are making me SO HAPPY.

please do another episode, Lara. please.

And I read the apparently BEST-selling mystery novel of all time! And one of the best-selling all-around books of ever. That is crazy. Only not so much, because And Then There Were None, formerly known as Ten Little Indians, formerly known as -- HEY I'm not writing that on my blog, is full of INTRIGUE and not a lot else, but intrigue is enough for a book as short and as intrigueful as it is.

I'd never read any Agatha Christies, and I bought this particular book in 2008. Which was four years ago if my stellar math skills are working properly. But the beginning...nope. If you go into Agatha Christie being like "Ah! An English novelist! Huzzah for finely delineated characters and rich description of the English countryside!" then as of page two, you will put the book down and not pick it up again for four years. Because Characters are not her thing. Which is FINE. Do you read R.L. Stine for character? Because I'm sorry, but this was kind of like a Fear Street book. I mean, it was totally awesome, but awesome in basically the same way a Fear Street book is.

So the premise is these ten people are all brought to this place called Indian Island, and they're all basically introduced at once, and I couldn't keep them straight for a while, so maybe write down their names and jobs when you're starting? Anyway, it was all kind of "Yes yes, whatever" UNTIL they're all in the drawing room and a disembodied voice is like "SIR PERCIVAL [or whoever] YOU ARE GUILTY OF THE MURDER OF BLAHBLAH. ANGUS MCCUTCHEON, YOU ARE GUILTY OF THE MURDER OF WHOOSYWHATSIT" and so on. At which point I was riveted and pretty much did not stop reading.

I mean, did I have some horror movie, why-are-you-all-being-idiots moments? YES. Because there are ten of them, and people keep dying, and they WON'T STICK TOGETHER. Omg. By the time the third person died, I'd be like "Ok, well, we're all staying together all the time." And someone would be like "Oh, but I need to use the facilities." And I'd be like "GUESS WHO'S COMING WITH YOU ALL OF US." It's probably some idiotic 1930s English propriety ridiculousness, but they still all sleep in separate bedrooms. Wtf. We'd all sleep in the same room, and three people would be awake at all times. I've planned this and my LIFE isn't even on the line.

I should probably say this is way cleverer than a Fear Street book. Because it is. But I mean, c'mon, R.L. Stine's written a LOT of books.

In conclusion, read this, because apparently everyone else in the world has, and why be left out when the book doesn't suck? And then we can all contemplate how Agatha Christie got away with making the name 'Agatha' acceptable. No one else has this power.

Have a good weekend, buddies

Thomas Harris is probably the George Lucas of books

Reading Thru the Night just posted about Hannibal, which reminded me I've read ALL THOSE DAMN BOOKS. Except Hannibal Rising. So really just Red Dragon, Silence of the Lambs, and Hannibal. And I got some Thomas Harris feelings.

But first let's take a moment to appreciate Jennifer
Morrison's arms in this week's ep of Once Upon a Time

So I read Silence of the Lambs concurrently with Mrs Dalloway when I was 19, and omg guess which one I liked better? Hint: it wasn't the one whose style is described as "complex, psychological, intricate, and dense." It was more the one with the guy making a fleshcoat (ewwwww). Because Silence of the Lambs is awesome, ok? It is awesome. Red Dragon's kind of meh, because no Starling, and Hannibal is fricking weird because man-eating pigs (although I guess Grapes of Wrath has proved that correct, holy shit), and also -- SPOILERS BUT WHATEVS BECAUSE I DON'T ACCEPT HANNIBAL AS CANON -- Starling's career sucks and she basically has nothing to lose and the book for reals ships her with Lecter, and no.  

I ship everything. Except on 30 Rock. And even there, I shipped Jack and C.C. (still not over that). So yeah, I was for a while like "Hey, I can get into this weirdass vibe between Lecter and Starling, sure." But then I saw clips from the movie Hannibal, which Jodie Foster REFUSED TO MAKE because she thought it wasn't in character and -- yeah. Accurate. The person we see Clarice Starling as in Silence is so far removed from how she is in Hannibal, and zis, I cannot accept. And also Starling should never marry anyone, because she is Agent Clarice Starling: Independent Woman and Resident Southern Badass.

So Red Dragon: not terrible, and with a bunch of William Blake references if he's your jam. By the way, Wikipedia informs me that William Blake used to wear a Phrygian cap, which is THE GREATEST HAT and I think we should all wear them:

Phrygia's lasting
contribution to society

Wikipedia also says he probably never met Mary Wollstonecraft, so there goes my hastily planned Blake/Wollstonecraft fanfic. "What if they checked into a hotel and the hotel only had ONE room available. Watch sexual tension flare as they discuss the Progress of Man and the emerging middle class while wearing sexy nightcaps."

Fun fact: I've never watched the entirety of the film Silence of the Lambs, because I've been assured it's way too gross. So every time I've seen it, it's been edited for tv. I feel like that's enough. I don't need to see that guy's face cut off or whatever. 

Let me double check...no, I'm good.

I re-read Silence a couple years ago and it was STILL great. So you should read that, and ignore sequels/prequels. And also someone photoshop me a pic of William Blake and Mary Wollstonecraft making out.

Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte would be the worst roommates

How hilarious would it be if Charlotte Bronte and Jane Austen had to be freshman year roommates of college. 'Cause freshman year you've probably never roomed with someone before, so you're gonna be a jerk at sharing what basically amounts to a cell with them. My freshman year roommate and I ended up having an epic battle the night before first semester finals that ended with my Jell-O being dumped out of our minifridge and me sleeping on the floor of my best friend's room down the hall. I spent the rest of the week at my parents', studying for my British History to 1688 final by reenacting historical scenes with my Beanie Babies.
But that is neither here nor there, because the POINT is that Charlotte Bronte and Jane Austen would have hated each other, because along with "She stares broodingly out the window ALL THE TIME" complaints, they would've been taking the same creative writing class, and Jane would've been all "MAYBE she shouldn't be with him because he's a selfish asshole, as opposed to just the having-a-wife thing," and Charlotte would've been like "MAYBE YOUR CHARACTERS SHOULD FEEL SOMETHING FOR ONCE IN THEIR DAMN LIVES" and then they would've thrown scrunchies at each other from across the room.
I'll bet Charlotte would be really active on Tumblr. "YOU GUYS DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT I HAVE TO DEAL WITH HERE. OMG."

Charlotte Bronte in GIF form

And then they'd transfer at the end of the first semester and Austen would get a single and Charlotte would move in with Emily and they'd watch Tim Burton movies all the time and listen to Bright Eyes.

Grapes of Wrath: The Part Where a Lot of Things Die

Thanks, Steinbeck. Thanks for this enormously depressing novel. I especially liked when you decided to kill the bunny. STOP IT STOP IT RIGHT NOW. 

 But for serious, this second section was excellent. I've already forgotten the hideousness of chapter seven in the wake of chapters 14 and 15. O chapter 15! That I might bask in your radiance now and forevermore.

66 is the path of a people in flight, refugees from dust and shrinking land, from the thunder of tractors and shrinking ownership, from the desert's slow northward invasion, from the twisting winds that howl up out of Texas, from the floods that bring no richness to the land and steal what little richness is there. From all of these the people are in flight, and they come into 66 from the tributary side roads, from the wagon tracks and the rutted country roads. 66 is the mother road, the road of flight.

I mean...I'm looking at a good deal of this warily, because he's really pushing his message, and I don't like having things pushed on me. But I've noticed a lessening of my defenses as it's gone on. He gets more subtle as it progresses. I mean, you still get the tire guy saying "Take it or leave it. I ain't in business for my health. I'm here a-sellin' tires. I ain't givin' 'em away. I can't help what happens to you. I got to think what happens to me." Hm, a bit of a repeated theme, John? Is there maybe something about how 'each man looking out for his own family and no one else' is wrong? Is that maybe a thing? Perhaps? 
The title was discussed a bit last time in the comments. What everyone's edition SHOULD have is the lyrics to the Battle Hymn of the Republic, i.e. a Civil War song about end times and God's vengeance. The pertinent lines being:
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword:
His truth is marching on.

So, kind of a "we're all fucked" mentality. That's what this book is named after.

I find myself in a rather nervous place, because they found that car part wayyyy too easily and cheaply. I mean, sure, a dog, rabbit and two grandparents have died, but I'm just waiting for something so terrible to happen that I can do nothing but stare at the book and then do this:

Screw you, Steinbeck (jk, still love you)

Also hey, penny candy scene at the diner, you just go off and deal with being FRICKING AMAZING. I recounted that scene to not one, but TWO people at work. Mae, truckers, little kids with your fists shoved in your pockets. I love you all.

The Tale of a Youth Who Set Out to Learn What Fear Was (not really)

There've been too many orderly posts here lately. That's not what this blog is about. It's about stuff like THIS


Also books.

I'm gonna add a new tag for JLaw gifs so you all can find 'em if you're in need of EXTREME AWESOMENESS. For this has become a random repository of them.

I'm getting almost no reading done, 'cause opera, but what I HAVE been doing is watching Once Upon a Time, because fairytales. I mean, sure, Disneyfied fairytales, but fairytales nonetheless. And it's got an evil lady who is COMPLICATED, and -- look, can we stop saying we "actually" find the villains more interesting like it's some unusual thing, because almost everyone finds the villains more interesting. THE GOOD PEOPLE HAVE ONE THING GOING ON. With the evil people it's like "Ooh, how'd they get that way; they must FEEL things very deeply; oh they're such complex characters let me examine them."

I think it's highly impressive if an author can make a "good" character interesting. That being said, the Loki sympathy in Thor/Avengers? Don't have it, don't understand it. I mean, I UNDERSTAND it, but I think it's dumb. But then I think I have less sympathy for manpain than evil lady pain. Except for Michael Fassbender in X-Men: First Class, because I FELT that, damnit. You are an awesome actor, sir.

I'm starting to think I'll never
find a reason to use this so here y'go

Speaking of fairytales (two paragraphs ago) let's check those out. Because growing up, I read that whole edited by Andrew Lang, multiple colors fairytale collection. So there was like, the Blue Fairy Book and the Crimson Fairy Book and the Lilac Fairy Book and just kinda random colors, but it was published in 1889, so whatcha gonna do.

Anyway, these had kickass stories, and obviously repeated themes, like the youngest brother always being the one to achieve stuff, even those he is INVARIABLY THE LAZIEST, but he takes instruction well. I'm not sure why the older brothers are always dicks in that regard. Like, if a talking ocelot says "Lie down and when the red ant crawls all over you, stay still, but when the black ant crawls all over you, shake a lot," you don't do the OPPOSITE of that. Like wtf? Are you TRYING to be perverse? You're not gonna save the princess with that attitude, sir. Your younger brother is, and then you're gonna have to be his manservant or water bearer or something.

I remember in A.S. Byatt's Possession, she was all breakin' down the fourth wall and shit and being like "Because we know, don't we, that the third brother has to win" and I was like "FIRST RULE OF FIGHT CLUB IS YOU DO NOT TALK ABOUT FIGHT CLUB." 

Also, the Andrew Lang books have the best illustrations and I specifically remember being small and thinking that this girl sitting by the pool was the prettiest girl ever (...it might be because she had long hair and I was not allowed at that age, 'cause otherwise I have no idea):

Bam

So there we are. Fairytales and manpain.

"Don't read The Grapes of Fucking Wrath -- do you want to kill yourself?" - my mom

GRAPES OF WRATH. Man, that beginning part was rough, huh?

Hosted by Laura at Devouring Texts

Ok, Imma need to look at East of Eden again, but that was 1952, and this was 1939. And it shows. I feel like this was written much more from a The Jungle, I'm-going-to-MAKE-you-all-sympathize-with-these-people standpoint. I mean, it's a million times better than The Jungle, 'cause that book is shit and this is Steinbeck, but he's got at least a bit of that, and it bugs me. Not a huge amount, because he's starting to fix it (for now), but enough.

CHAPTER SUMMARIES. Mixin' it up.

One. SO MUCH DUST AHHHH IT'S EVERYWHERE TAKE COVER IN THE COMMUNITY CENTER.

Two. Tom Joad is young and was in jail.

Three.


Four. Tom meets a former preacher and also maybe humanity's all supposed to be one great social unit. If only there were an "ism" to go with that way of thinking.

Five. Tractors are raping the land and knocking people's houses down.

Six. Oh no, Tom, please talk more about how technology takes somepin away from a man. Also I'm impressed with how easily you can skin a rabbit.

Seven. The worst fucking chapter. Steinbeck, do me a favor and don't write mysterious monologue chapters, because they suck. Oh wait, there's another in chapter nine. I guess you thought this was a really spiffy thing to do.

Eight. The best damn chapter because it's finally got real people not just being silent and manly. Steinbeck's Real People are fantastic. My favorite part of the book so far (aside from the turtle, whom I have named Alfred) is the delight his dad has in trying to figure out how to surprise his mom with Tom's return.

Nine through Eleven. Haven't read 'em beyond skimming, but oh look, another monologue chapter, and then they're used by the harshness of the world and the Evils of Capitalism, and then they leave Oklahoma.

Kinda like this

Tom going to jail for killing someone in self-defense BOTHERED me, so I called the University of Oklahoma Law Library and spoke to a lovely man named Nick, who directed me to the Oklahoma State Courts Network, which has case histories online. The furthest back I could get was 1940, which defines "Excusable Homicide" as 

"When committed by accident and misfortune in the heat of passion, upon any sudden and sufficient provocation, or upon a sudden combat provided that no undue advantage is taken, nor any dangerous weapon used, and that the killing is not done in a cruel or unusual manner."

I mean...I don't really get the "dangerous weapon" part, but he killed him with a shovel, so...but then I read an essay online that was all "We are presented with only Tom Joad's interpretation of the event. This interpretation is certainly biased when one considers the final outcome. A murder in self-defense should not lead to a criminal conviction and a prison sentence." So fine.

I'm kind of suspicious so far, because again, I hate when plots and characters are written pretty much solely to serve the author's overarching point like "CAPITALISM IS BAD," But Old Tom Joad and his wife are probably real enough. And this line seems super-Marxist, but eh:

"Men ate what they had not raised, had no connection with the bread. The land bore under iron, and under iron gradually died; for it was not loved or hated, it had no prayers or curses."

Also, WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE PIG ATE THE BABY. YOU CAN'T JUST SLIP THAT IN THERE AND EXPECT IT TO BE PASSED BY. AHHHHHH.

The Lifted Veil, aka George's Early Writing and Not Totally That Great

I've been meaning to read The Lifted Veil by George Eliot for a reeeally long time now. And it's super-short, so earlier this week, I was like "Oh, just do it."

It's kind of weird that this was published the same year as Adam Bede, because I overall like Adam Bede and its fanfic-like ways, whereas this I was like -- well here, let me ruin it for you: So it's all first person narration, and it's this guy who's like:

"Oh, I'm dying, but LET ME TELL YOU MY TALE. I got sick when I was young and afterwards I could read minds. Yes. Totally. I am not shitting you. But it was really annoying because ugh, people are dumb. And I had to hear all these dumb people's dumb thoughts. So I'm living life, trying to be a poet but somehow sucking at it, and then I couldn't read this one girl's mind, so she was FASCINATING, and hold up, I know this sounds like Twilight except for the vampire bit (although I was stunningly pale), but then we got married and then I totally COULD read her mind, but she turned out to be super-mean, and then something weird happened with her maid and we separated and now I'm going to die The End."

The beginning is SO LAME. I'm just gonna steal from Alley and post my Kindle notes:

I have never fully unbosomed myself to any human being (Ahahaha 'unbosomed')

  I had a tender mother: even now, after the dreary lapse of long years, a slight trace of sensation accompanies the remembrance of her caress as she held me on her knee--her arms round my little body, her cheek pressed on mine. (This is the most Victorian thing that ever Victorianed. Georgey, what're you doing?)

A better-constituted boy would certainly have profited under my intelligent tutors, with their scientific apparatus; and would, doubtless, have found the phenomena of electricity and magnetism as fascinating as I was, every Thursday, assured they were. (haha Ok. Good one.)

My least solitary moments were those in which I pushed off in my boat, at evening, towards the centre of the lake; it seemed to me that the sky, and the glowing mountain-tops, and the wide blue water, surrounded me with a cherishing love such as no human face had shed on me since my mother's love had vanished out of my life. (OMG HIGHLIGHT ALL THE THINGS. This guy's such a pussy. If he lived today, he'd listen to Bright Eyes and wear eyeliner)

She was keen, sarcastic, unimaginative, prematurely cynical, remaining critical and unmoved in the most impressive scenes, inclined to dissect all my favourite poems, and especially contemptous towards the German lyrics which were my pet literature at that time. ("BELLA LET ME READ YOU SOME OF THIS GERMAN POETRY." "Ugh, let's just make out, Edward.")

To Bella (whose name in this is Bertha, which is TREMENDOUS name-fail): "You scorn to wear my poor opal. I should have remembered that you despised poetic natures, and should have given you coral, or turquoise, or some other opaque unresponsive stone." ("Some other opaque unresponsive stone"? If someone said that to me I'd be like "Hahahahaha Turquoise is pretty, fuck off.")

I have way too many notes. And it's unfortunate, because the second half is WAY better than the first half, but my notes for THAT are like "Oh, yeah, that's a good point". But when he's a student in Switzerland, being like Prince Herbert in Holy Grail

he's the most annoying character I've dealt with. But then Eliot starts getting into humanity in general, and how it would suck to know what everyone was thinking and be able to see into the future, and have there be no mystery to life (hence the title), and THEN it's pretty good. There's also some stuff with Science, because 1859.

Also there's a weirdass addendum which I'm gonna spoil right now, so READ NO FURTHER if you don't want this veil lifted, but it's like George suddenly went "Oh, I have to end the story. Ok. Let's make it DRAMATIC," so she brings in this lesbian maid and then the maid's suddenly dying, and the narrator's doctor friend is staying with them and he JUST HAPPENS to have these frickin' tube things and he's like "Hey, look, she's gonna die, and after she's dead, I wanna insert these tubes into her arteries and pump my blood in there to see if we can bring her back, ok? Oh, and don't tell your wife. That'd be weird."

AND THEN THEY DO THAT. Like, who carries artery tube things with them? That guy. So all of a sudden, the narrator's like "Oh, there was a teeerrible secret between my wife and her maid, but I didn't really care what it was," and I was like "...you mean...."

But no, so the maid dies, and the wife's like, phew, and she leaves the room, and then the doctor does his awkward blood...tube...thing, and gasp! She's alive again! And for EXTRA-drama, the wife comes back in the room, and the maid's like "YOU WERE GOING TO POISON YOUR HUSBAND" and then she dies again. How convenient. And then they separate and he goes off to die. The end.
I did like "The narrow room of this woman's soul" when talking about Bertha (ha...Bertha. so terrible.). And she uses 'blent' as a past tense of 'to blend' and apparently that's correct, so ok. YOU GOT SO MUCH BETTER LATER ON, GEORGEY. But there's some stuff in here that's still pretty awesome. And I still love you.

"On Wednesdays, we wear pink"

Not gonna lie, I did my nails last night and I keep being distracted from writing and just STARING at them, because last night I did that fancy thing where you put three coats on and then a topcoat, so they look like Real People nails and not 'Alice just did one coat because then she wanted to play Super Nintendo' nails. So they are Very Shiny.

In bookish news, I would like to apologize to the lady in the Teen section of the Chicago Public Library yesterday. Look, ma'am, neither of us should've been there. We are not teens. But there we were, right when they opened at 1, and I'm sorry that I know how they organize their books, so I was the first to see that The Book Thief wasn't on the shelf and therefore the first to get up to the counter and request it. And I'm sorry they only had one copy left and that I'm probably going to let it sit on my bed for three weeks before returning it. But for YOUR sake, I will try to actually read it. Because I felt way guilty when you said "Oh, that answers my question" when the desk clerk said "This is the last one."

So there's that.

I started The Grapes of Wrath, and I think I have font issues with my copy. If I hate the font, it impacts how I judge the book. Which is awful. And unfair. But THERE IT IS. When I finally got to Gaudy Night in my read-through of the Lord Peter Wimsey series, I needed it in a particular font and started emailing booksellers to ask them to take pictures of a random page so I could see if it was the right kind.

This font

So I might have to get another copy of GoW. I'm also still reading Casual Vacancy, which is STILL GREAT, and the bad reviews, which I'm only seeing the titles of, totally confuse me. I guess if you don't like awesomeness? Or humanity being laid open in all its inner complexity? Then you might not like it? But I don't want to rush through, because the words, they make me happy.

OH, and while at the library yesterday, I also picked up -- wait for it -- THE ADVENTURES OF NANNY PIGGINS. I forget where I saw this, but it is now my favorite title of all time. And then, BONUS, the writing is hilarious.

'You can tell which ones are the artists,' Nanny Piggins said loudly, for she could be instructive when she chose to be. 'They are the useless-looking ones wearing cardigans.'

Yeah, it's for children, BUT SOMETIMES THOSE BOOKS SHOULD BE READ. THE END.

Grapes of Wrath: Before the Sadness

IT'S ON. Meaning it's Steinbeck time.

But first, I want to briefly address Illinois and how flat it is. I don't know how it is in your all's places of living, but I don't realize how completely flat my state is until I visit anywhere with an inclined plane, and am all of a sudden like "...wait, what?" IT IS SO EASY TO WALK EVERYWHERE HERE. I feel like I need to shock myself by going hiking in Vermont or something. Anyway. STEINBECK.

This month is the Grapes of Wrath readalong, hosted by Laura. Laura is awesome, and this readalong is being done by many awesome people. If you want to join, you can. There will be many gifs to combat the apparent sadness of this book.

The first post is always the pre-read ruminating post. Have I read Grapes before? A resounding NAY is my answer. BUT have I read Steinbeck before and do I want to have his tiny babies who probably smoke and ponder humanity's potential while unable to express themselves in words other than "Asgfdhjklghl"? YES. Did I have a minor freak-out about East of Eden because it's probably the greatest of Great American Novels? YES.

East of Eden and me

So I'm rather excited about this.

I should address that I know a lot of people had to read Steinbeck in high school, and that sucks, because High School Ruins Books. I got away with just having to read The Pearl, and now I hate The Pearl. Also because our teacher made us listen to this song which I guess someone felt called upon to make. "Hey, how about we write a song about The Pearl? That seems like something everyone would enjoy." Yeah, anyway, I haven't gotten the chorus out of my head in the last 12 years.

SO EXCITED ABOUT GRAPES OF WRATH. We will cry, and possibly curse out Steinbeck, but he's dead and laughing at us in our pain. There's nothing we can really do.

READALONG ONWARD

J.K. Rowling and Televisiony Things

First off, if you missed Doug's post on Pride and Prejudice last Friday, check that out. Because Doug is awesome.

Second, The Casual Vacancy is kicking ass and taking names.



I think, lurking in the back of my brain ever since the book was announced was the thought that 'Um....I probably won't be that into it.' That has been proven FALSE. Because I started Harry Potter when I was 14, I couldn't read it critically. Could. Not. So when my professors would be like "Blah blah, Order of the Phoenix the worst one blah blah" all I could do was go "I LOVE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX THE MOST AND I CAN'T TELL YOU WHY."
But with THIS, I'm all a grown-ass lady and stuff, so it's like "Oh, J.K., your character details are what make us love you. THIS IS HOW YOUR WRITING IS MAGICAL." Because she somehow knows EXACTLY what to say to flesh out a character. I suspect I'd read this with a lot more reservation if it were by anyone other than her, but because -- as it turns out -- I trust her SO much, I'm enjoying all of it. I just want her to write everything. ALL THE WORDS.
Last night was Full of Feelings, because I saw the last Doctor Who of this year (aside from the Christmas special, which I finally have hopes for despite the Christmas specials always sucking), and THEN Once Upon a Time s2 premiered and all I can say is you all are FORTUNATE I have a Tumblr, because I was being gross and fangirly for like two hours straight last night. I will, however, share an exchange my friend and I had when Aurora showed up on OUAT:
me: "She looks a little fat from that angle." friend: "You look a little bitchy from this angle."
Well-played, friend. I'm sure Caitlin Moran would not approve either.
Still reading Outlander. People are still having sex. A lot. With some random Scottish terms thrown in to make it exotic and historical. But most of m'reading time is taken up with Casual Vacancy, which I both want to finish and NEVER WANT TO FINISH because Deathly Hallows came out FIVE YEARS AGO, and who knows when we're getting another JKR book? Sigh.
In conclusion, and to bind things up, there was a Dementor on Once Upon a Time and they tried calling it a Wraith BUT WE ALL KNOW WHAT IT WAS, ABC.

Yeah. "Wraith."