Showing posts with label The Passage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Passage. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

The Therapist Takes A Nook

I, Therapist, take you, Nook, to be my E-Reader of choice. To have and to hold, (ok, carry), from this day forward, whenever there are times that the book I'm reading may be heavy or awkward to juggle with my other worldly items. I promise to keep you dry from bath water and your battery charged til death (of your battery or screen life) do us part.
Yes, I have "taken" a Nookicon. I, who never thought such a day would come.
It's not that I don't have friends with E-Readers; I do. And I have tried not to judge them for their purchase, their mad and reckless departure from all that is holy. And...in the end, it turns out that scripture is right on this topic, "judge not lest you be judged", because here I sit, not alone, but with a Nook. I blame Stephen King for my unfaithfulness.
I have written about Stephen before when his new novel UNDER THE DOMEicon came out in 2010. I believe I called it a "tomb" and may have mentioned Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. A devout King fan since his infamous THE STANDicon, I was excited to hear that he had written a new novel called 11/22/63icon.

               

Anyone that has been on the planet for a half of century knows exactly what that date is and I was interested to see how Stephen King would write about the assassination of JFK. Bibliophile bought the book for me right away and when I came home from work, there it sat covering up a large portion of my night stand. This is when the first thoughts of adultery came to me. I thought about how I read in the bathtub every night. I thought about reading Justin Cronin's THE PASSAGEicon and the aforementioned UNDER THE DOMEicon...it was in that moment that I knew I would become a cheater. It became quite clear to me that my faithfulness could not bear up under the temptation the Nook presented of giving me ALL of 11/22/63icon in just 7.5 portable ounces. Three days later the Nook and I bathed together with all 897 pages of 11/22/63icon...I fell in love.
I wrote the first part of this when I first "took the nook", (that ended up catchier than I intended), and can now look back on my first three months as an adulterer. It turns out that the nook did not steal all my affections as my reading has been evenly divided between those books I can actually (have and) hold and those that are digitized. I have not deserted my habit of browsing through bookstores and caressing a cover or page. I still fill my "to be read" bookshelf with books of the original variety.
So, what I have found is that my divided affections have actually caused me to read MORE, and that is the real beauty of my new reading partner. Although unexpected, I am quite satisfied with this new, open relationship. I hope my real books understand.

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Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Pandemics and Lesbians

Okay, so no pandemics and lesbians in the same book. I don't think.

I just finished reading Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters.

Set in the late 1880's, written in 1998 , Nan, a young woman, finds herself attracted to a 'masher', a woman who dresses up like a man and sings and dances on stage.

Tipping the Velvet: A Novel

Waters is a good story-teller. Nan, who is the narrator and main character, is believable and engaging. As the story begins, she lives with her family in Whitstable, serving oysters and fish in an oyster parlour. When she attends the theater and meets Kitty Butler, the masher, she describes her attraction..."When I see her, it's like - I don't know what it's like. It's like I never saw anything at all before. It's like I am filling up, like a wine-glass when it's filled with wine. I watch the acts before her and they are like nothing - they're like dust. Then she walks on stage and - she is so pretty; and her suit is so nice; and her voice is so sweet...She makes me want to smile and weep, at once."
And...
"I felt as if my admiration for Kitty Butler had lit a beacon inside me, and opening my unguarded mouth had sent a shaft of light into the darkened room, illuminating all."

At first Nan struggles with her own feelings, afraid that she is too attracted to Kitty. Through the rest of the novel (not to give too much away), she realizes that her attraction to women is who she is.

I liked that it was set in the 1880's, enjoying a glimpse into theater life in the late 19th century. And while Nan did struggle with her lesbian sexuality in a culture constrained by sexual mores, it seemed to me that the struggle might have been a bit harder. Nan seemed to find little enclaves where lesbians were welcomed. As I was reading, I wondered how true that much acceptance would have been in Victorian England.

Sarah Waters did something interesting, which I don't think I've seen before. She used her own last name as one of the character's last names in the book. Walter Waters wasn't the most major character, but he was not a tiny-show-up-on-one-page kind of character either. I wondered if she might have identified in some way with that character, however Sarah Waters identifies herself as a lesbian, and Walter Waters was most definitely a heterosexual man, so if she did identify with that character, the reasoning wasn't obvious to me.

In any case, I enjoyed it and was thrilled to read a well-written novel primarily about lesbians. I received this book through Bookcrossing and some of the people who had read it before described it as racy. I wondered if people thought it was racy because the novel described sex between women and perhaps these readers hadn't experienced that. There were descriptive, sexual scenes with women, which I found lovely.

My partner and I are both, coincidentally, reading books about pandemics (and if there are lesbians in the books, we haven't met them yet). She bought me The Things That Keep Us Here by Carla Buckley.The Things That Keep Us Here

Centered around a family where the parents are divorcing, the book describes how the avian flu can become a pandemic and how they survive. (Okay, I don't know if they survive as I'm only a few chapters in, but I want to find out!)

Peter, the husband, is some sort of animal researcher. Early in the book he fills in for a professor friend and describes to a college class how a strain of avian flu can become a pandemic.
"That's what we're worried can happen with H5,: Peter corrected. "That's why WHO has issued alerts, why our health departments are stockpiling latex gloves, and why I'm freezing my butt off beside Sparrow Lake at five in the morning."
A ripple of laughter.
Someone called out, "Do you think we're going to have a pandemic?"
Peter regarded the young faces turned toward him. He thought of all those mute bobbing birds, felled by the same sharp blow. "What does science tell us?"
Silence. They were all thinking about this.
"Put yourself in the virus's place. If you had a good thing going, hooking up with everybody in town, would you move on?"
Nervous laughter.
"Of course you wouldn't. You'd hang around a slong as possible."
"So that means yes?"
"That means..." Peter reached over and shut off the projector. He faced the room. Every head was lifted, every pen stilled. "It's inevitable. Maybe not in my lifetime. Maybe not in yours or even your children's lifetimes. but sometime."
And my guess is that the pandemic will arrive sooner rather than later.

My partner is reading an advance copy of Justin Cronin's The Passage. The PassageA government project goes awry, causing a virus that changes people in a bad way.

Touted to be a cross between Stephen King's The Stand and Max Brooks's World War Z, this, they say, is supposed to be the book event of the summer. (I think they WANT it to be the book event of the summer.) Movie rights have already been sold, with Ridley Scott directing.