For the sake of posting a comment.

2010-05-26T17:35:00.011-04:00

A draft - revisited.

After leaving my home for a year abroad and living in various towns/cities in Ontario, I've returned to Hamilton. I'm not sure exactly what it is, but there's something about this city that makes me want to blog. Before posting new 'comments', here's a post I drafted over a year ago.

I've been newly inspired to blog. haha

A friend recently contacted me with an idea about writing to compliment the otherwise formality of science writing; thus began Postdoc at Large. Expanding on her first entry, imagination and function are tied in the blogger to shape the blog accordingly. This idea that the blog is an amorphous vehicle of seemingly infinite electronic possibility isn't new yet as a trend I'm aware some would argue it has past its use. Blogs may be going the way of the magazine or newspaper but I continue to suggest it as a simple way to practice one's voice. Small circulation - amongst an intimate group of peers - have historically been fruitful if we draw upon the diverse examples of Katherine Phillips' poetry and the beginnings of the avant garde poetry in the US.

That said, time has effected both examples differently: Phillip's poetry, accomplished and well circulated amongst the literati of her time, was forgotten or purposely buried by literature's boy's club (according to my colourful, thrift-shop loving, intimidatingly knowledgeable professor of fin de siecle literature), whereas the avant garde went (sadly) mainstream.

Returning to Postdoc at Large, I am cheered and encouraged when those around me start to flex their fingers. Recently, I attended my first workshop at Asian Arts Freedom School and though I am a pretender of sorts - being just a hair over the age limit - it was refreshing to be around youth who were unencumbered by the ever buzzing noise of academia whispering incessantly of the need to produceproduceproduce 'great work,' 'original work,' 'critical work.' If I had chosen graduate school with the thoughts that my writing might improve, I would have been very disappointed. There is still some soreness, because idealism and hope never seem to die, but realistically grad school has seemed less about sharing than I imagined.

I'm still writing papers and trying to wrap up this MA while helping run a business in downtown Hamilton but cultural studies, the arts and Hamilton are supremely complimentary topics! I'm looking forward to the intersections which will inspire me to post a comment.

2007-03-04T22:44:00.000-05:00

An "Important and Reoccuring Sub-plot:" Hornblower plays Affectionate Husband

The mirror caught Maria's reflection, and he forced himself back into the world again. she was standing pathetically looking at him, and he put down his razor, and took up the towel ans wiped the lather from his mouth. "Not a kiss since yesterday!" he said. "Maria, darling, don't you think you've been neglecting me?" ...And while he kissed her he thought of Atropos riding to her anchor out there in the river, and despised himself as a hypocritical lover." (Hornblower and the "Atropos")

John Ford visited me at the store a few days ago. When I told him that Hornblower had become a 'real' captain he announced that he skips all the "mushy parts."

And for the first three books I didn't really understand what John was talking about; this was a series about a man in love with the sea (even though it made him violently sick and frequently led to mortal danger) and service. It was a Romance with the Sea - surely - but mushy?

That was, until Horatio got married to a sensitive, homely innkeeper's daughter. The first woman to show him kindness during a time of hard luck, Marie changes Horatio - military genius and gangly man of action - to Horry.

A pivotal point for sure, I haven't a clue why Forrester writes Horatio into Marie's stereotypically feminine arms. I could dismiss this mis-match as evidence that Forrester, like SO many male writers, simply can't imagine a 3D woman but there is a little authorial voice that peeks out once in a while to vote against such an easy dismissal. Either way, for all his lack of insight into the feminine mind I am in love with, and facinated by, this new dimension of Horatio as a BIG OL' FAKER.

I'm loving Horatio Hornblower.

2007-03-03T02:44:00.000-05:00

Quizzes count as reading right? And doing this Superhero Lover Quiz did induce me to post...

2007-02-14T23:40:00.000-05:00

John Ford. We met when I told him he had the name of a poet.

I complain a lot. And I do so without prejudice. But bitching sometimes leads to good things.

John Ford and I met at the store about 8 months ago when he came in to buy his Players light large regular and his reading time snacks: two chocolate bars. John's been coming in for years but it's only after bitching about the bookclub that he came into focus as more than a customer.

This happens a lot at this store. Chatting away as usual to anyone and everyone - to pass the time and due to curiosity - I realized awhile ago that my regulars and I talked about the details of our lives in a surprisingly neighbourly way. Val brought us a box of fabulous Dundas chocolates for Christmas this year and the outpouring of real sympathy (the unexpected kind, one of the best kind) for our family last year brought this fact home. But we talked without ever sharing our names. When you can't say 'thank you' because you can't put a face (or a regular purchase) to a card signed "Samantha Lowe and Family" you know something isn't right.

Anyways this is all beside the point.

John Ford, from what I have gathered, is a 55+ divorced guy who has lived alone for some time now. He would in and buy his chocolate/cigs. I'd bitch about wanting to read more. And he'd recount stories of reading Cannery Row (Steinbeck) alone outside his knee high tent in a family campground under the old mountains of in Alberta surrounded in a sea of campers and trailers. ("Haha! I freaked out all the family campers laughing. Parents probably told their kids to avoid the crazy man.")

While talking, I'd reached under the counter and pulled out my copy of a book (this time Paksanarrion) for him. He'd pass over yet another book and tell me to hurry up with his copy of a book (Horatio Hornblower because there were twenty-odd more to go) because I was slow reader "for someone who went to university." Then, more often than not, he'd run home (or to Chapters) and return with a book we mentioned.

I don't know much about him except that he has that blue collar humour i love but with a literary twist. He has his confessions too. It's these whispers over the register that keep me going. For John, he can't help but think a girl at Chapters, a girl after his own bookish heart, is 'an ugly mongoloid.' He always reports this with a sad shake of his head, as though it is too bad.

As an 'Asian' I should be horrified but it makes me giggle - the audacity - even to rewrite it here. He knows he's being bad.

Anyways, after much give and take, John and I have founded our own little Scenic Bookclub! It's not official but easy and fruitful. He's introduced me to Steinbeck and loaned me his precious Hornblower series. And I've lent him all my old Goodkind and G.G. Kay. John's a man after my own 13-year-old-boy's bookish heart but he's completely uninterested in my beloved Austen or E.B. Browning.

Oh, and the club is growing. I'm also reading Gwynne Dyer's Future: Tense (The Coming World Order) lent to me by other customer. Hm. I've got to learn his name.

2007-02-07T15:00:00.000-05:00

Glad It's Dead

This being in my twenties business is just messed up. Cliches of searching for some path (or another) and being lost and making stupid choices and frittering away time (it seems) are all true for me and this book blog is no exception.

Yeah, I know. I haven't written in months and I'm not even sure Kara and Eileen are checking up on this site. (Oy! Eileen! Kara! Are you guys awake?)

Committing to writing often about something i love to do seemed a no-brainer; but somehow the blog always ended up being at the bottom of the priority list. So, I thought a book club was in order. More satisfying than writing to an audience of 0 to 3, a book club seemed like the perfect solution for the bored, book loving, hungry for discussion and book talk crowd.

But the club floundered, drowning to death today after a score of 1 and 1/2 books in 5 months. PAH-thetic.

The formula for a successful bookclub seemed simple. A+ B = success when A = reading the text and when B = a want to discuss the text. Simple. But somehow, in our group of casual readers other than a rare individual or two, few of the members seemed interested in actually talking about the books.

Truth be told my frustation with the club has been fairly transparent since day 2. Why couldn't we, readers in our individual right, come together as a group (commit to a single night once every 2 months even!) even when plied with wine and finger treats?

I still can't figure it out.

Long story short, the book club died today to a collective sigh of relief.

2006-12-17T18:14:00.000-05:00

Just finished reading "The Cunning Man" by Robertson Davies. It took me almost 2 months to read the 514 pages. Let me give you a sense of what reading this novel is like. Imagine trudging through 20 pages of the most pretentious, over-educated, self-important, could-never-possibly-occur-ever dialogue, just to get to a shiny kernel of truth revealed in 3 sentences. That's what this novel was like. Although it has wonderful subtleties, it is overall not an enjoyable read, but that said it has the deeper touches that make it "literary", at least in a Chapters/Indigo kind of classification.

An example just off the top of my head, the story tells the story of a man's life, from childhood through to old age. And the childhood seems to be full and rich, while the intervening years speed up quickly. This mirrors most people's experience of life, childhood and youth seeming to take so long, while our lives rush us older through the next years.

And the characters are all "failures." There are no heros in this novel. When you get to the end, when everyone is old, all anyone can see is what they didn't do. It doesn't end on some artificial high. As the saying goes, "Every man's life is a tragedy."

It's not recommended reading unless you're going to be in a bomb shelter for several weeks and you need something that'll get you through hours of nothingness.

2006-09-10T14:13:00.000-04:00

WARNING: It is extremely likely that this blog will degenerate to incoherent ranting by the end for reasons that will become apparent.

Our latest book club read was The Power of One by Bryce Courtenay. I know a couple of people who cite this as their favourite book of all time, and combined with the naked man featured on the cover, I was intrigued. I think that this book generated the most discussion yet in that there were disputes over the underlying motives of some characters, etc. I would say that while I enjoyed this book overall, I also had some major problems with it.

I was really enjoying the book at the beginning but slowly started getting more and more frustrated. So much shit happens to this poor kid that it just starts to become almost too much. I stated thinking "For Christ sake, will someone please just give this kid a sucker?". Fortunatley, someone does. But this heralds the beginning of the "too perfect" portion of the book. Peekay is brilliant, athletic and can do no wrong. But what bothered me the most may be due to my own flaws and short comings. It seemed like all the lessons he learned were by things that happened around him or to him, not through things that he did himself. For example, the major theme of the book is his disdain for racism and his emergence as the Tadpole Angel - chief of all tribes. But he learned this hate for racism from watching and never partaking. Isn't it likely that at some point in his life he would have succumbed to peer pressure and used a racial slur or put someone down? And perhaps his regret of this moment would help to shape his future opinions? How likely is it that in an environment like 1930s South Africa, a kid would never falter in his views? While I was pondering this I was remebering one of my own experiences. In middle school everyone picked on this one obese girl. Since everyone else was doing it, I got pressured in to joining in and eventually shouted "Tremor!" as she walked by and mimiced the ground shaking beneath her feet. I immediately felt awful. Ever since then I've been painfully aware that you choose how you treat people. Does everyone have an experience like this or am I composed of particularly weak moral character? It seemed that an incident like this would have made Peekay's morality more believable for me.

We also hotly debated the character of Geel Piet - a black prisoner who acts as Peekay's first boxing coach. My impression of Geel was that while he was fond of Peekay, he was a product of the prison system. He had never learned to trust and in turn was not trustworthy. The prison had taught him to always leave your true self hidden. As I was reading, there were a couple phrases that made me think Peekay saw this too, and that his observation of this was one of the lessons he learned. The idea that people are shaped by their environment and how they're treated. But some of the girls in the book club didn't see it this way at all. I guess that's the beauty of books - different people get different things out of the books.

Now here comes the ranting. While I admit that this wasn't my favourite book ever, i have developed a relationship with it over the last couple weeks and respect the story for what it is. Perhaps this is the reason that I felt so personally offended when we rented the 1992 movie version of the Power of One. I understand that it is sometimes not possible to fit every phrase and event of a book into a movie, but should one not at least attempt to maintain the spirit of the book?! They even changed what the "power of one" is! They completely eliminated the character that singly handedly provided Peekay with both his single obsessive ambition as well as his lifelong personal mantra - "First with the head, then with the heart." Then, and this is the truly horrible part, then they added a love interest and killed her off to fuel Peekay's motivation (and also some war/fight that didn't make any sense....I dunno I was not paying attention and fairly far down the road to drunk at this point)! That absolutely ruins the point of what Peekay was all about. So singular was his goal to be boxing champion that he never would have let a girl get in the way (he sees her while he's boxing, which results in his knock down - stupidity!). His lifelong nemesis is a guy named "the Judge" who tortures Peekay as a child and the culmination of this occurs in the final pages of the book when Peekay meets him again. No mention of this in the movie. In fact, the torturing at the hands of the Judge seems inconsequential, especially when you consider that it was the major driving force behind the rest of his life. The move barely takes the time to establish relationships so you never understand why the death of Granpa Chook or Geel Piet would even be significant and I didn't even notice if they bothered to kill off Doc!

What is the point of making a book into a movie if you so severely alter the spirit of it, that it becomes almost unrecognizable?! Did they even read the book? Lesson learned though, renting the movie is NOT the same as reading the book ;)

2006-08-27T21:51:00.000-04:00

I'm enjoying reading again.

Strangely fantasy got me out of my reading rut. A customer from the store lent me Dragon Prince Book 1 by Melanie Rawn. He bought it upon the recommendation of a Chapters employee and asked me to check it out. He wanted to make sure that it wasn't "mushy." It was. Reading it I couldn't help but picture the employee as a overly romantic 16 year old girl. And I had forgotten all the sex bits that fantasy tends to have and had a couple great giggles over Rawn's sketchs of her protagonist's eager penis. And sadly for John though, the customer, it had nothing to do with dragons. But I enjoyed reading something as nothing more than a story. **Big breath in** I'm also reading Mary Queen of Scotland and the Isles for the same reason. Historical fiction has penises too; although they're usually 'flaccid' and old. Not eagar and embarrassing. Penises! They're everywhere.

Also in the middle of reading The Vinyl Cafee Unplugged - one of 5 McLean's books courtesy of Kim's dad. I'm mixed about his books. The Dave stories are hilarious to me for the same reason that I enjoy Everyone Loves Raymond (as none of my cynical friends do) and Tool Time. It's the clueless man schtick and family stories I enjoy. Maybe I'm secretly into clueless men. Hmm. McLean's nostalgic sketches of Canada as small town aren't engaging though. I can't relate to small town stories about that day twenty years ago when the taps at the old pub failed and everyone got free beer. And I'm not sure what it means that it is so popular south of the border.

And today? Today, I treated myself to some shopping therapy regardless of my promise to finish the 30-to-reads lining my shelf. And instant happiness!

Although my quest to find "Twentisomething essays" (a fortitious title kara!!) was thwarted, I wandered around and in another fortitious turn found a book of Bukowski's poetry, The Flash of Lighting behind the Mountain. It's exciting b/c it's style is like mine (if I can be so bold) and b/c I loved the irreverance of Post Office (ah-ha, MORE penises!). I also found Junk Mail, a book of Will Self's non-fiction, and I'm loving it.

Afterthought: Another rambly pointless post.

Synopsis: I've become bogged down by all this seriousness. Getting back to irreverance. Loving my new books and trying to get my shit together.

2006-08-22T12:52:00.000-04:00

www.seedmagazine.com/news/2006/08/thank_you_for_polluting.php

Eileen... Can you give this a read? What are your opinions on peer review as the absolute catch-all for 'Good Science' as that Gibbon's guy seems to believe?

(I'm thinking about your description of funding meetings as power games.)

Politics and politicking in science isn't a new thing. So many conflicts between science and government/religion spring to mind that it's dizzying.

2006-08-02T19:45:00.000-04:00

A lot of people have read this book. In fact, most people I know have. There is little original revelation that I can share. All I can say is I enjoyed it - a lot. From the perspective of someone who is reading to get inspired to write, this book made me really want to have something to say. It wasn't the anti-racist message that touched me, but the quiet pleasure of the children's lives. The details of their day to day living I found beautiful and fun.

There could be no Tom Robinson in this book and no Bob Ewell, and I think I would have gotten the message loud and clear just from the lives and interactions of the characters. If I wanted to complain about anything, I'd make Atticus less perfect. But that can be forgiven since it is from a loving daughter's perspective.

This book goes to show, I guess, that good writing is in the small things, not necessarily in the big.

2006-07-25T13:35:00.000-04:00

Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides

This was our lastest book club pick and it was fantastic. Everyone loved it. Its been a long time since I've read a book that I'd rather read than watch tv, but I couldn't put this one down. The narrator is a hermaphrodite that is raised as a girl then at puberty discovers, she's actually a guy. But the majority of the book isn't even about the narrator - it traces the origins of the mutation in his family starting with the grandparents and following it through to his/her birth. The story starts in Greece as the grandparents are forced to flee burning Smyrna, then moves to Detroit.

While the story itself is unique and captivating, one of the things I liked best about the book is the way its written. For instance, the emphasis of the characters in the book kind of mimics life. There isn't a sharp point where the book is suddenly about the next generation, it just flows so that by the end the grandparents have moved into a guest house on the family's property and are almost forgotten by both the family and the reader.

Anyway, its a fantastic read - just don't let the incest turn you off!

2006-07-18T07:56:00.000-04:00

Short sci-fi book. Quickly ponders the multi-problems of time-travel and the paradoxes associated with it. The paradoxes are handled well with a lot of interesting discussion about how he's "eliminated himself from the timeline" or messed with the time.

It's been a while since I've read Sci-Fi, and I liked this - although I found the relationships awkward. But, maybe I'm not the audience for those relationships.

I need something to read next. What to read? What to read. . .

2006-07-13T20:30:00.000-04:00

Just finished reading "Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman" a memoir in vignette form from Richard Feynman - Nobel Winner for Physics and crazy-mother-fucker.

He's the kind of man I've met (at least in part) in Math a few times. He's the kind of guy who understands the world very analytically and has no patience for arguments or people who don't have logical reasons for doing what they do. He's incredibly intelligent and because he doesn't get extraneous stuff (like the arguments of some philosophers who use overly technical words instead of just speaking clearly and some artists).

But what really stuck out for me was the way he really went for everything. He didn't know how to draw, so when he met an artist he really liked he asked him to teach him. And he practised constantly, took extra lessons and eventually got good enough to draw people's portraits. And it's like that with everything he did; with the physics obviously, but with everything else too, drums, safe-cracking, biology.

A great line from the book is "Of course I would like to have done it at home, and I don't doubt that you could meditate and do [hallucinate] it if you practice, but I didn't practice." This is regarding duplicating an experience he had in a sensory deprivation chamber. For him it is his great failing that he didn't practice.

Having read the book, I now really want to do something - anything - and do it really well. Practising all the time and to really be a well rounded and interesting individual.

I highly recommend this book to anyone who feels like they can't do anything. You'll be inspired.

It's also INCREDIBLY funny and his complete lack of social grace gets him into many a ridiculous adventure.

2006-07-01T23:18:00.000-04:00

Reading Paul Auster

I'm trying to read but current circumstances aren't conducive to the mental state required by the process. That said, I'm making my way lazily through a few books.

Abott's A History of Mistresses (the history of celebacy was decent), Guibert's to the friend who did not save my life, and Paul Auster's "glass city" from his trilogy.

Strangely, reading Auster has given me the most satisfaction and I've managed to keep reading. It's my second attempt to read, what has been introduced to me as, a 'typically male' text. This description is bizarre to me and brings to mind all the fallacies of definition. Ondaatje isn't male? Coleman sees it as male. Although to them, it's less about the penis and more about masculinity. Less trance-like - like Quinn's description of making his own appointment as Auster - and a more deliberate observation or experiment.

Contemporary male texts that are very aware of the 'penis' are new to me and generally make me laugh. I'm aware I am missing some of the experience intended by the author in the same way that I don't let out a sympathetic groan when a man gets kicked in the groin. I don't really understand the literary or experiential purpose of describing a moment of fear by a "penis gone limp." In the same way, I don't understand the comfort of big boobs for the narrator of the postal service. That said, I do enjoy it and will continue.

I can feel a comparison between these so very American texts and, for example, my favourite postcolonial, Ondaatje's, Canadian (Coleman's Masculine Migrations) books coming on. A comparison between Auster and Hawthorne seem to keep happening in my mind as well.

to be continued.

2006-06-21T04:53:00.000-04:00

I've been thinking alot about writing lately. And relatedly, what people want to read. (An extension being, what types of people read certain books.)

Extremely self-conscious about my position wrt text and preoccupied with thoughts about writing I have realized that all this thinking is my attempt to reconcile how to first represent my own style.

As an aside: I have forced myself to begin a book. It's called "to the friend who did not save my life" and was written by a French author and journalist, Herve Guibert (forgive the lack of accents, I haven't learned the strokes for it yet). You can find a blurb about it on most glbt websites.

Anyways, tired of staring at my books and not interested in testing this mood out on a less experimental book, I started it a couple of days ago and have managed 3 pages and 4 chapters.

Returning to style: Kara's posts and past conversations with Kim and Eileen - the few friends I have who continue to read outside of school - as well as my mental state of late and reading guibert's book has led me ask the question that has always preoccupied me: WHY DOES ONE READ?

I get the sense that kara is most comfortable reading work that she can relate to whether it be 'real' or via fantasy. I think she posted as much. Others read to gain new knowledge (a problem...). Some read for entertainment, some read for sexual thrill. And so on, to various degrees.

For me, there are no limits. I have themes that I'm interested in, genres, periods etc. yes but the element that does more than attracts, and draws me in, is style. Particularly poetic style. There is something about this demystifying language that has come to define the best literary work for me.

Guibert's style is disconcerning and I hate it. So far there is no poetry. But this I'll leave for another entry.

The point that started all these tangents, is my question to you. WHY DO YOU READ? Please write.

2006-06-17T10:23:00.000-04:00

Michael Ondaatje is a great writer. I know this because everyone says so. I also know this because when I read The English Patient in school the essays I wrote were the easiest to write ever - easy to find complexities.

That said, I think there is always a sense of otherworldliness to his writing. I have this sense that the characters are very water color - complex, colorful but intangible. This became very clear to me when I was reading In The Skin of a Lion. There was something so unreal about it. The language is so beautiful, it's just not representative of the way I experience the world.

So, after 54 pages, I found I stopped reading it.

Now I'm reading Volkswagen Blues. Simple, clear, fun. The events are unlikely but real. I'm really enjoying it.

2006-06-04T11:08:00.000-04:00

Who votes to go public?
(That means that others on the internet will be able to 'search' for this site.)

And who votes to stay private?
(Meaning this site does not show up on our profiles.)

2006-06-04T02:06:00.000-04:00

I'd forgotten that I was supposed to post my opinion of my book club books on here. Luckily I remembered, just in time to avoid studying....Our last pick was The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime by Mark Haddon, and I did not enjoy it. I read it because several people had recommended it. While I understand that the writing style is because the narrator is an autistic kid, I just didn't enjoy a book written that way - though it certainly made it a quick read. I also found that I was totally indifferent to the story until about 3/4 of the way through with all the drama about his mother. But then...just as I was starting to like it, it ended. Very abruptly in my opinion.The rest of the book club liked it for various reasons. One girl really liked it because a friend of her family has a kid that was just diagnosed with autism and she thought the book was revealing. But to be honest, the book is so simple that we really didn't have much discussion about it. (yeah, yeah Maxie...I know you told me so)Our next book is Middle sex (can't remember the author right now) recommended to me by my future sister-in-law, about a hermaphrodite....I'll let you knwo how that one is.

2006-05-28T20:35:00.000-04:00

Ok, so has anyone read Don Quixote? I'm totally sick of these "Windmill" references. I get that in the novel Quixote attacked windmills, but since this is the most ridiculous notion I've ever heard of I figure there has to be a point, right? Or is there no point? Or am I over complicating things?

All I know is, there is no reason in this day and age for anyone anywhere to talk about windmills except in reference to this novel. Everyone stop it already! Was it on your reading list in high school? Was it some kind of right-of-passage? Why must everyone keep talking about Windmills?

2006-04-28T15:45:00.000-04:00

Damn this wordiness that I've been cursed with.

I am completely demoralized. Stupid essays, stupid deadlines.

Although, overall, they aren't 'really' important, you can see I had to qualify 'important.' Because really (no quotation marks) they are.

2 days and counting.

2006-04-10T21:29:00.000-04:00

Here's a link to a recording of Alessandro Moreschi - the "last castrato" - who was singing (I believe) right up until the early 20th century.

While listening to it, I was enthralled and I have to say a bit creeped out. Although once revered for its purity, power and range - described as the angel's voice - the castato's voice did not incite in me the same feelings described in so many of the texts I had read. It was foreign to me and I couldn't read it as beautiful. It was strange and I was ill at ease with being unable to decide whether it was 'masculine' or 'feminine' or even childlike. There are voices out there today that I enjoy (although the names don't come instantly to my mind) that fall into the androgynous range; there are popular male singers that are famous for their falsetto... women who sing in the deeper range... Does the trauma involved in the making of the castrato matter? And what did the English, French, German, Italian of the C13th-20th think?

Vernon Lee, a writer that I've recently become very interested in, wrote a story called "A Wicked Voice" which recounts a composer obsessed with trying to resolve his love for the crystalline beauty of the castrato's voice and his knowledge that it is a voice made of pain. Lee, like the composer of the story, was obsessed with the castrato's voice and tried to reconcil herself to the same problem: reconciling the voice of ultimate purity and perfection (heavenly perfection) with manmade construction and an unavoidable defination as unnatural. (The third sex is also being examined here.)

I've written the above from reading several of Lee's stories (and I'm planning on hunting for more in Toronto soon) but I haven't started an indepth study as of yet. Still for those interested in reading I've posted a link. Let me know what you think

2006-03-27T02:30:00.000-05:00

Word Play

Infinite

Roundness in hopeful plenty

prettiness of the interplay
forward -
i notice in retrospect a dizzying appeal
from the motion
from the notion of space
infinately of hope.

i approve. it sounds nice. it makes the right pictures.

2006-03-25T05:41:00.000-05:00

Trashing Harold Bloom

Everyone knows Harold Bloom; everyone has probably at one time or another had to read or buy some anthology or another 'edited' by him. For all you ppl who took oac music, our books were edited by Bloom.

For a guy who makes a bazillion dollars off the veneration of other people's genius I was torn as to if he was the big bad wolf knocking down anything that didn't fit into his exacting idea of 'good' work OR if he was someone who just geniunely loved within specific boundaries. Still, after reading Edward Said's new book, I laughed out loud when I read a thorough thumping of Bloom:

"This catholicity of vision is not at all what we have been getting from Harold Bloom, who has become the popular spokesman of the most extreme kind of dismissive aestheticism calling itself canonical humanism."

"In his incessant, grab-bag evocations of what he dismissively calls the school of resentment, Bloom includes everything said or written by the non-European, non-male, non-Anglo educated upstarts who don't happen to agree with his tiresome vatic trumpetings."

"Bloom's opinions about the humanistic canon show an absence rather than an invigorating presence of mind: he nearly always refuses to answer questions at public lectures, he refuses to engage with other arguments, he simply asseverates, affirms, intones. This is self-puffery, not humanism, and certainly not enlightened criticism" (27).

hahahahaha - i'm a fan. And read it aloud...it just flows off the tongue.

2006-03-22T13:38:00.000-05:00

From "Sacrificing Extremity" by Bronfen

Woman is bitter as gall
(said Prosper Merimee in his novella 'Carmen'; picture above)

suggest woman to be venomous, peevish, bitter; a source of vexation, irritation and exasperation; gall also denotes a plant tumour caused by parasites and suggests woman as parasitic, cancerous and generally a 'danger to the healthy and normal order of the community (as a body); connected to the humours, woman is also melancholy and anger this is the C19th women in the mainstream discourse.

it's so textually and metaphorically alive and yet so deadening and hopeless, cutting half the population to the quick with one poisonous stab.

i read on....

2006-03-21T19:42:00.000-05:00

I'm curious and I want to know

Let's do an experiment... It's the "What I'm reading and Why" game.

In the following format,

What: Humanism and Democratic Criticism by Edward Said
Why: For my critical lit theory class and because it's one of those pivotal texts need to be read. (Loving it.)

What: Life is a Sine Wave - Richard's blog
Why: Because I am addicted to other people's lives ... and their presentation of their lives.

make a list of things that you are currently reading. Newspapers, magazines, websites... whatever you've been reading this week.

2006-03-17T18:31:00.000-05:00

Some commentators cite as proof of Sappho's hetersexuality the fact that she was married and had a daughter. Curiously her husband is cited as Kerkylas from Andros. The name Kerkylas was based on the word for "penis." Andros comes from the word for "men." If we translate then, we find that the most famous lesbian of all was married to Penis from the City of Men.

(from "Sappho" on the GLBTQ Victorian Lit Website)

I enjoyed this beyond measure. Nothing is ever simple... if you find yourself justifying a simplistic reading remember Sappho! hahaha - gotta love that.

2006-03-11T10:02:00.000-05:00

Books on My Desk

Not exactly procrastination, this post isn't exactly what I'm supposed to be doing either. We could view it as just another thing on my 'to-do' list. So really, I'm being productive here.

With school and other commitments I have found writing and reading, other than for school, have been relegated to the very very bottom of an ever increasing priorities list. My joys are being shafted. But one fantabulous thing that has come from being in English is that I get the opportunity (excuse?) to read many books in every vein of bookdom. I've been thinking lately, if happiness can be measured in the sheer number (let alone quality) of books one person has read, that the number of books and authors go past my desk and my eyes in even one month makes me a happy girl - a lucky girl.

Anyways, coursewear material aside, here's a list of the books sitting on my desk currently in some stage of being processed.

Monday in the Promised Land - Novel by Gish Jen (1997)
Bone - Novel by Fae NG (1993)
The Picture of Dorian Gray - Novel by Oscar Wilde (1891)
Hawthorne's View of the Artist - Critical essays by Millicent Bell (1962)
House of Seven Gables - Novel by N. Hawthorne (1851) *A very pretty edition by Riverside Press Cambridge from 1900
Selected Tales and Sketches - Short stories by N. Hawthorne (1837) *An awesome collection (Kara - very Poe-esque)
The Blithedale Romance - Novel by N. Hawthorne (1852) *I liked this one alot.. a bridging book if you read in the Romantic tradition OR you're familiar with Victorian british lit
Long Ago - Poetry by Michael Fields
The Dream Class Anthology - Short stories by selected Toronto highschoolers in the 80's
Fireworks - A collection of essays on Women in Writing
Wordscapes - An collection of work by B.C youth
But where are you really from - Anthology by Hazelle Palmer (1997) *An exacting and needed text
Celebrating Canadian Women - Prose and Poetry *Published in 1989 this book is actly why Hazelle Palmer's book is necessary. Good writing; definately blinded
Pens of Many Colours - An anthology of Canadian writing ** Why is this on my desk??
Successful Marriage - essays by 20 doctors on the best way to date, marry, have children and generally be successful. written in the late 1940s this book scare me. bought it for 3 dollars at the YMCA. Awesome find
Humanism and Democratic Criticism - Edward Said ** I fear that I will become a Said follower... everyone should read this book READ IT
To the Friend Who Did Not Save My Life - Hervie Guibert *who's interested in AIDS lit? this book looks great...
Autobiography of Red - A Modern Greek tale in poetry by Anne Carson *made me a fan
Masculine Migrations - Essays by Daniel Coleman *the new vein of feminist thinking... men are different says Coleman *Good book!
Dictee - Indescribable mind-blowing text by Teresa Cha
Canadians are Not Americans: Myths and Literary Traditions - By Morrison
...

Ack. That was less than half. But the list has served to help me remember that I actually have to do something with those books - instead of just interacting with them at my leisure. So I'm off.

Anyone read those books or are interested in reading them? I have a whole library card thing worked out for my books ;).

2006-03-09T11:19:00.000-05:00

Request

Eileen, would you post about your book club meetings? (If you're not too busy that is.) I'm interested in what comes out of them, especially on the next book. If there are lots of things to be said about that book, I want to hear too! :) Curious minds just want to know.

2006-02-24T20:07:00.000-05:00

Although this isn't considered a great book, I really liked it. I think it's because I think our culture is filled with a lot of sexual ambiguities. Girls kiss each other for attention, threesomes aren't abnormal and I think in general people don't have a lot of hope for the regular marriage (or committed relationship, or whatever).

I think this book does a good job at saying "Ok, so what if all this stuff is true, what does this mean a relationship looks like?" We see two couples subject their marriage to sexual escapades (mostly together, but not all) and I think we see what feels necessary to the characters feels a lot more like self-indulgence.

I wouldn't say it's a great book, I didn't find I cared about the characters, but I did feel the emotional acrobatics they go through resonated for me. We can be flawed and be forgiven, but it's where we lie to ourselves and lie to those we care about that we really get hurt.

2006-02-15T16:16:00.000-05:00

1) Go to SEED (see link to the left of the screen)
2) Go to the article called "Meeting of the Minds"
3) Read it
4) Hit the link on the first page of the article for the blog of two SEED employees trading some of their personal lives for money

5) Enjoy - b/c I know I did.

2006-02-06T17:54:00.000-05:00

Just finished this book. While reading it I had the sensation of reliving every stressful childhood moment ever. Every moment where you suspected maybe your parents were flawed and that it was possible that they were making a mistake right at that moment -- and there was nothing you could do about it. Intertwined with that sensation is the sensation of reliving all your own stupid mistakes, but right BEFORE realising you're repeating the mistakes you've seen others make.

It's a beautifully crafted story, with 2 stories in different timelines following the same arcs - driving home the lesson that even though we know we shouldn't we still do repeat the mistakes of our parents before we can learn from them. The language is delicate and thoughtful. But it's the dwelling in the realm of mistakes I found uncomfortable. It's too close to raw wounds from mistakes and flaws in my own life. I'm too new to realizing them to really have lost myself or uplifted myself in this story.

2006-01-31T12:31:00.000-05:00

Check out this article by Malcolm Gladwell (they guy who wrote blink). It's a good display of his writing style and the kinds of smart analytical thinking he does.

But I also think it's a good example of story-referencing, where he refers to a study or anecdote and effectively weaves it into the overall piece.

A lawyer who specialized in trials once told me "It's not who has the better argument -- It's who tells the better story." Of this, Malcolm Gladwell is the master. I often feel like something may be glossed over, but I can't quite put my finger on it because the writing is so effective.

At least I'm thinking. . .(I think that's what I said after the last one)

2006-01-30T20:58:00.000-05:00

Eileen has started a book club waaay over there in Halifax and asked me if i had any suggestions for them. So I thought of a new of my favourites and decided to post them here in case anyone is interested in a new book or has read them and wants to comment.

First there is of course "Cereus Blooms at Night" by Shani Mootoo. I also have her book of short stories "Out on Main Street;" for anyone interested in the female, lesbian, Canadian, Trinidadian, postcolonial writing this book is great. For those of you just looking for a great book both of these are greeeeat. She's right up there as one of my favourite writers. I have yet to read the new one ("he drown she in the sea") but i have it and it's in que to be read.

The next one (or fourth one i guess) is "The God of Small Things" by Arundhati Roy. It's also beautifully written, metatextual in conciousness, and interesting. There is lots to talk about after reading this one.

And finally - b/c I should go write a couple papers - there is "Cock and Bull" by Will Self. Hugely great. I love the first one especially and there is a lot of material for discussion.

I should probably have a more involved analysis or at least description of these books but for now the above suits me fine. Let me know if anyone is interested b/c the Maxie Library is Open. I've even put in these slips of paper so that I can keep track of who's read what. yes, I'm a nerd. :)

2006-01-23T17:16:00.000-05:00

I just finished reading Memoirs of a Geisha yesterday. I thought it was a really pretty story what do you think?

2006-01-17T11:56:00.000-05:00

Requesting a Book

Nice One,can we could meet up sometime so that I can borrow your "Year of Meats?"

I am enjoying that I can post things with pictures ... this entry is purely for the satisfaction that comes with that.

2006-01-12T13:14:00.000-05:00

I have been trying to read both for school and for personal enjoyment/interest for almost three weeks now and it has been very slow going. Mostly in bits and pieces, after slipping into a book I come to a point where I remember that I have forgotten - just for a moment - and I get upset. Upset that I had let go for that moment and then upset that I am getting upset over something that is probably for my best interest (escaping for a bit that is).

Reading is slow going and the writing of this paper is even more slow going. Not because I am unsure what to write because I have left it too long or because I can't get my ideas to fit together in an articulate way - but because I am unable to actually sit for longer than an hour. It's the same idea as above. ONE good thing that has come from this experience though, is that I have discovered a pleasure in re-reading and reading slowly. School and my own ambition has gotten me to a point where I can finish a novel in 3 hours. Extending the time for composition and editing has also been good and I am more satisfied with the first 3 pages of my paper (that I have re-written in it's entirety 5 times now) than I have ever been before.

An aside note:
I am now offically a fan of Hawthorne. And for some reason I am kicking and screaming in my head against this idea - hence the public declaration. The 'adult' part is reining the 'childish' part of my self in ... if that makes any sense. Although I LOATH his "Scarlett Letter" (a 1/10 on the Maxie Scale) everything else has been thought-provoking.

2006-01-04T19:58:00.000-05:00

Kara, I hope that you are bearing with me; you're not bored by my blog are you? Maybe it's time to focus on a specific theme. Or figure out why things I find interesting are also so boring to so many ppl.

This post was supposed to be an observation and a comment on my December 9th post about how I use writing everyday to maintain my sanity. I think that I was still in shock then - which is not to say I may not be in it now, it seems to be one of those things you can only say for sure in retrospect, but that I definately was then. Now my notebooks are full of angry scribbling in which I write the words 'madness' and 'anger' and occaisionally 'tear/blood/rip/choking' over and over again. Senseless and yet cathartic. Definately not poetic but raw and simple. It is like that in my head and I can't move beyond it. I guess I am stuck in what Frye would call the 'third level of language.' I wonder how this paper is going to turn out.

Currently I am reading several books: Frye's The Educated Imagination (A fabulous Book) and Secular Scriptures (interesting but not as fun). I was also given George R.R. Martin's A Storm of Swords to read by a customer of mine and although I couldn't really get into the previous books I'm going to give it another go because he enjoyed it so much (Which reminds me that I gave my other Martin books to a certain ass - grrr. Now I want them back.) I should stop now... I am actually in the middle of several books...

I am also actively on the prowl for poetry by Ezra Pound (the poet that Andrew dislikes so greatly) and Wallace Stevens. I've wanted to read Stevens for some time now. And of course the ever significant Blake is still on my to do list. I love poetry because you can carry it around...read a poem at a time. Everything is neat and simple yet can be so complex.

What are you reading?/hoping to read? etc.

2006-01-02T02:58:00.000-05:00

The effervescence of youth and passion, and the fresh gloss of the intellect and imagination, endow them witha false brilliancy, which makes fools of themselves and other people. Like certain chintzes, calicoes, and ginghams, they show finely in their first newness, but cannot stand the sun and rain, and assume a very sober aspect after washing day.

-- "The House of Seven Gables" pg. 263

2006-01-01T21:45:00.000-05:00

When will i start seeing this as amongst the vicissitudes of life?

- A new word. Did I use it correctly?

And a new quest: I've downloaded a e-version of the Smollett translation of Gil Blas. Apparently a must read for a reader of Romance. Anyone interested?

www.globusz.com/ebooks/GilBlas/00000001.htm

I write this post in part because I will forget if I put it aside and to distract myself from this novel ("House of Seven Gables") - it's taking FOREVER to do a close reading.

2005-12-30T16:33:00.000-05:00

Malcom Gladwell and his excessive reading habits. That's really what Blink, and his previous work The Tipping Point are about. The man is clearly an avid reader and thinker, but a scientist he is not. While he does the amazing thing of channelling science into a story, he fails remarkably to back up what he says.

I had the fortune to read Blink first. Contained in the first chapter is a compelling story that contains a logical fallacy. While this story is not his argument, it's irksome to me as a reader to read something that is clearly incomplete or just untrue, and be expected to just go with it because it makes for a tight passage.

Don't get me wrong. There is a lot to think about in these books, and it takes a writer and thinker of immense talent to distill it into something so easily palatable. I just worry about what was lost to get it.

But it made me think critically, so what else can be asked of it?

2005-12-20T18:08:00.000-05:00

I have a great desire to read Songs of Innocence and of Experience. This need to read something at this point is not unusual for me. I have always used reading as a way to track the narrative of my life. Maybe this has something to do with the fact that books has always been my key to understanding this world. My world at home, my family, my world outside and the worlds in my books; reading, and later writing, allowed me to believe that everyone lived this multi-planar existance. And that it was okay.

At this point, when I feel so trapped and even reading has lost it's relevance in my life, Blake seems like something I need.

Andrew, if you're reading this, I would like to go on a hunt for a copy of The Songs.

2005-12-19T17:57:00.000-05:00

I just finished The Blithedale Romance and I'm full of mixed impressions. I have read enough Hawthorne to admire his ambition - the scope of the things he tries to say within what he says is 'only Romance.' Hawthorne's descriptions can also be incredibly vivid and insightful, especially with respect to the psychological (although this is more so in his Twice Told Tales). He brought to mind Poe's aesthetic and maybe, to a lessor extent, I hear an echo of Blake's concerns. (Which reminds me that I must read more of Blake's poetry - Kara you might like him.)

But mostly I read his books for his incredible self-conciousness as a writer. I see most clearly that his writing is about writing, and his imaginated stories are about imagination and stories. But beyond that his 'little' Romances have a definitely - though subtle - satirical end.

That said, he is a bit overblown and his descriptions, as often as not, seem irrelevant and boring. Neither a nod to realism nor an imaginary landscape. I'm starting to read Frye in hopes that he can shed some light on the conventions that Hawthorne seems caught in and responding against. So far so good - Frye is immensely interesting.

So far not so good? My essay is non-existant.

2005-12-17T00:11:00.000-05:00

Why do some words just sound appealing? I have always enjoyed opera ... but after reading an article with a passing reference to Puccini I keep going back to it. Puccini. Puccini. I have developed a need to hear some Puccini.

2005-12-09T14:18:00.000-05:00

I get frustrated with writing. But I get frustrated by not writing. There is something about it which lends me the semblance of peace ('semblance' because it doesn't last) and a perspective available only through the distance which writing can allow.

I must be meant to write - in a life that is busy with other labels and things to be accomplished - because all I am like a mad street person in her mishmashed collection of socialized humanity's scraps with my head down and my pockets full. I hoard my treasures and my thoughts; an no matter how open I may be I am closed to you too. Either way I gather as I go and my pockets keep over-flowing and I am in desperate fear of losing something that I may have forgotten.

Writing is wonderful because, "it is what it is." It gathers layers with time and nuances with each reading and reader. Yet it maintains it's integrity, all without changing at all. The immobility of a unique type of art. And yet it is incredibly accessible as these blogs, livejournals and online 'confessionals' - as I can't help see them as - demonstrate. And as good art exists bad writing definately does as well. This is mainly a segue into my observation about a certain someone's livejournal which is such a horror to read that I have become addicted. Mainly because the site incites an emotional response in me that I have been afraid I had lost - especially at this point in my life. I didn't really know people could be so blissfully unaware of their shallow cliched lives. Shouldn't you at least be aware of it all?

That said, I wish the man next to me in the CNH computer lab would stop scratching his arm pit through the front of his shirt in public. And then touch all the keys on his board.

2005-11-21T01:11:00.000-05:00

I'm in the middle of writing up my analysis on Ondaatje's "Claude Glass" (and no where near started the analysis on "Birch Bark" and "Escarpment"). I am definately at that hair pulling and maddening stage, verging on the want to sleep or write, eat obsessively or drink more tea. Thus far I'm swilling back the tea and moving ahead fighting ahead. Taking an inch at a time as I can get it.

It is bad when you want to say, "to some degree his poem, his lines, his imagery is meaningless; he wrote it, kept it, wanted it because it sounds like it looks good." And he writes in opposites too much. Why all the night, light, death, sex, love, hate, memory, place, landscape, stage, Canada, Sri Lanka references? It's as though he fits almost exactly the paradigm of the immigrant's double self. I want to write that all his references to Canada (especially in, In the Skin of a Lion, Secular Love and The Cinnamon Peeler) and his later immersion in the Sri Lankan context (see Handwriting and Anil's Ghost) is almost boring. That it is predictable. That our conversation about it, and the people talking about it (those of the literary, academic and criticism elite - who I am not disparaging. I mean I hope to be one some day although I don't know how realistic a goal that is.) are old and predictable.

Why am I always reading about the same thing? Why am I always saying the same thing? When will I be well-read enough know enough to say something new? When will my words catch up to my head.

Stupid words.

2005-11-10T22:47:00.000-05:00

My hunt ended with disappointment and hunger. My hunger for both the book I was looking for and the food that I went without on my all consuming hunt through Mills. Apparently the books that I am looking for, Secular Love and There's a Trick with a Knife I'm learning to do, are no longer in print. Mills, the Bookworm, Bryan Prince and so on, have all failed me. Apparently Amazon has used copies for sale but they are far out of my reach for even I can't rationalize spending 80.00 or 130.00 on a single book of poetry.

On the upside my article on the Page Program is apparently my "best article to date." Although I thought I was taking too much creative licence with a newspaper piece and the ending was crap it is my best piece. Sigh - I thought I had the format down. I wish I could just write the way I want. FINE. I am going to write in the way that I want...at least then I'll like it.

2005-11-10T02:23:00.000-05:00

I'm setting up this blog in preparation for my year abroad. I wanted to call it 'My Year of Writing' (an idea from A.M.'s Year of Reading) but as writers out there know, I'm not sure if I will be able to share that process with those close to me, let alone the cyberspace voyeurs out there.

But this post, my first post, is just an experiment.