Dad/Ham: So for anyone who hasn't started Gilead yet, do you know what a "susurrus" is?
MTH: Dad, good comments on The Scapegoat (sorry I'm a little late in noting), and good question on Gilead.
I just started Gilead again. I must have read its first paragraph fifty times over the last two or three years, never with enough time to read beyond it, and always frustrated that I have allowed things to clutter my life and schedule to the point that when I stumble upon an opening such as Gilead's, I cannot drop everything and read further.
I was finishing a draft of my Egypt poem immediately after finishing Gilead the first time, and I admit that I took the word "sussuration" from Robinson. I presume sussuration is related to "susurrus," so I surmise that susurrus is a gentle rumbling, or whispering--in my mind due to a windy, waving rustling, pleasing and peaceful.
Mom says you're 47 pages in. Any thoughts? Glad you're making time for it. S&H.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Thursday, January 1, 2009
January Book Choice
Hello All!
I hope your Christmas and New Year's were wonderful and that you got to spend some time with family!
We are kicking off book club this month with Zach's book pick, Gilead- by Marilynne Robinson
Here is a link to the amazon deal:http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/031242440X/ref=olp_product_details?ie=UTF8&me=&seller
Also, if you haven't emailed me your personal book choice, let me know before the month is over!
Hope you all enjoy!
Looking forward to your comments,
Mike and Maggie
I hope your Christmas and New Year's were wonderful and that you got to spend some time with family!
We are kicking off book club this month with Zach's book pick, Gilead- by Marilynne Robinson
Here is a link to the amazon deal:http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/031242440X/ref=olp_product_details?ie=UTF8&me=&seller
Also, if you haven't emailed me your personal book choice, let me know before the month is over!
Hope you all enjoy!
Looking forward to your comments,
Mike and Maggie
Sunday, November 2, 2008
The Scapegoat
So, who in the Club read October's selection? I enjoyed the book despite it involving the French...good thing the main character was British and the French in the story were Resistance vice Vichy. At times I felt like the author was dropping hints that the Englishman wasn't picking up on himself, such as the little girl with her evil intent "accidentally" breaking the porcelain items her mother so cherished, and the strong possibility Jean's mother pushed her daughter in law out the window. There's a couple more of those examples where the storyline just flies right by some hints that should be camped on. I found the ending unsatisfactory, wanting vindication for the good guy. Oh for the simple victories of Napolean, now 195 years behind us. But perhaps I am the scapegoat and should be blamed for not picking up on an underlying message/theme?
Sunday, September 28, 2008
The Burden of the Host
Of a disastrous lunch, Julia Child writes:
We ate lunch with painful politeness and avoided discussing its taste. I made sure not to apologize for it. This was a rule of mine.
I don't believe in twisting yourself into knots of excuses and explanations over the food you make. When one's hostess starts in with self-deprecations such as "Oh, I don't know how to cook . . . ," or "Poor little me . . . ," or "This may taste awful . . . ," it is so dreadful to have to reassure her that everything is delicious and fine, whether it is or not. Besides, such admissions only draw attention to one's shortcomings. . . .
I think this is a fine bit of introspection. I appreciate that Julia has though about what's truly going on in an awkward exchange of apologies and reassurances over a meal yet to be eaten. She might just as soon describe the obnoxious disclaimer that some people unfailingly give right before you open a gift from them. As you handle their present to you before opening it, excitement radiates through you like tea through a pot, and just as you're about to rip the paper, they lose all courage and say, "Now, if you don't want this, you can take it back, it was a complete guess. . . ." This disclaimer not only admits that they don't know you well enough to pick out something you like with more than 49% surety; it reverses the whole idea of gift-giving. Whereas they were the one paying you the compliment by giving you the gift, the burden is now on you to compliment them on their compliment to you--the very compliment that a moment ago they pronounced as probably worthless a moment ago.
On a personal note (I assure you the above was not), I apply Julia's thinking toward a different manners lesson that we all learned in childhood but which I now reject. We all have heard that it is polite, after halving one sandwich, cookie, etc., to share with a friend, to present both halves to the friend so that he or she may choose the bigger half. I, however, consider this rude.
First of all, "letting" the friend choose only shifts the burden for taking the smaller half onto him. The friend knows that you're offering him the chance to take the bigger half, but as he reaches out his paw for the big one, me must choose between a) being as courteous to you as you were to him, and b) rudely taking advantage of your weak position as the host obliged to offer. All you, the host, have done is sidestep responsibility of making your guest comfortable; you have checked your mate into your own position of host, while taking the luxury of guest for yourself. Maybe your guest/host/I'mnotsureanymore would like to wash the dishes as well.
The second thing is this: halves are halves. They're equal. Always. So if you're cutting something, cut it right. Your guest should assume that you are capable of this, so don't worry about them thinking you've shorted them. And if (when) you do cut unevenly, just take whichever one you want, because you're guest won't know, indeed, won't even think about, whether you've yielded the larger "half." But you must choose; if you do not, you merely shift the host's rightful burden.
We ate lunch with painful politeness and avoided discussing its taste. I made sure not to apologize for it. This was a rule of mine.
I don't believe in twisting yourself into knots of excuses and explanations over the food you make. When one's hostess starts in with self-deprecations such as "Oh, I don't know how to cook . . . ," or "Poor little me . . . ," or "This may taste awful . . . ," it is so dreadful to have to reassure her that everything is delicious and fine, whether it is or not. Besides, such admissions only draw attention to one's shortcomings. . . .
I think this is a fine bit of introspection. I appreciate that Julia has though about what's truly going on in an awkward exchange of apologies and reassurances over a meal yet to be eaten. She might just as soon describe the obnoxious disclaimer that some people unfailingly give right before you open a gift from them. As you handle their present to you before opening it, excitement radiates through you like tea through a pot, and just as you're about to rip the paper, they lose all courage and say, "Now, if you don't want this, you can take it back, it was a complete guess. . . ." This disclaimer not only admits that they don't know you well enough to pick out something you like with more than 49% surety; it reverses the whole idea of gift-giving. Whereas they were the one paying you the compliment by giving you the gift, the burden is now on you to compliment them on their compliment to you--the very compliment that a moment ago they pronounced as probably worthless a moment ago.
On a personal note (I assure you the above was not), I apply Julia's thinking toward a different manners lesson that we all learned in childhood but which I now reject. We all have heard that it is polite, after halving one sandwich, cookie, etc., to share with a friend, to present both halves to the friend so that he or she may choose the bigger half. I, however, consider this rude.
First of all, "letting" the friend choose only shifts the burden for taking the smaller half onto him. The friend knows that you're offering him the chance to take the bigger half, but as he reaches out his paw for the big one, me must choose between a) being as courteous to you as you were to him, and b) rudely taking advantage of your weak position as the host obliged to offer. All you, the host, have done is sidestep responsibility of making your guest comfortable; you have checked your mate into your own position of host, while taking the luxury of guest for yourself. Maybe your guest/host/I'mnotsureanymore would like to wash the dishes as well.
The second thing is this: halves are halves. They're equal. Always. So if you're cutting something, cut it right. Your guest should assume that you are capable of this, so don't worry about them thinking you've shorted them. And if (when) you do cut unevenly, just take whichever one you want, because you're guest won't know, indeed, won't even think about, whether you've yielded the larger "half." But you must choose; if you do not, you merely shift the host's rightful burden.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
October's Book
I know this announcement comes a little early, however, you may have to order this book and wait for it to come in. We will be reading Melanie's Choice, Daphne du Maurier's book,
The Scapegoat....
Plot Summary....
The plot concerns an Englishman who meets his double, a French aristocrat, while visiting France, and is forced into changing places with him. The Englishman is a single, rather lonely academic, and he finds himself caught up in all the intrigues and passions of his double's complex family. Taken by the faithful servant to a huge but crumbling chateau, he finds that he is also the owner of a glass factory that appears to be failing. Indeed, the problems concerning the family are seemingly insurmountable, and at first the protagonist stumbles through one mistake after another; nevertheless no-one suspects he is not Jean, the Frenchman (other than the dog, whose behaviour is commented upon but not questioned). It soon becomes apparent that Jean is bad through and through, he has had an affair with his sister-in-law, and his sister Blanche has not spoken to him for fifteen years. We only discover the reason for this much later on in the book. Furthermore, his mother is a morphine addict, supplied with her drugs by none other than her dutiful son, Jean. His poor pathetic wife dies in an accident soon after the Englishman arrives. The double then attempts to put everyone's life to rights, little realising the extent of damage his predecessor has managed to do. Just when it seems as though he is finally succeeding, Jean returns to claim his life back. (wikipedia.org)
I know some of you have been waiting for a book with a plot! So, I hope this pleases your palate! I look forward to reading your thoughts on My Life in France, as we finish it up!
The Scapegoat....
Plot Summary....
The plot concerns an Englishman who meets his double, a French aristocrat, while visiting France, and is forced into changing places with him. The Englishman is a single, rather lonely academic, and he finds himself caught up in all the intrigues and passions of his double's complex family. Taken by the faithful servant to a huge but crumbling chateau, he finds that he is also the owner of a glass factory that appears to be failing. Indeed, the problems concerning the family are seemingly insurmountable, and at first the protagonist stumbles through one mistake after another; nevertheless no-one suspects he is not Jean, the Frenchman (other than the dog, whose behaviour is commented upon but not questioned). It soon becomes apparent that Jean is bad through and through, he has had an affair with his sister-in-law, and his sister Blanche has not spoken to him for fifteen years. We only discover the reason for this much later on in the book. Furthermore, his mother is a morphine addict, supplied with her drugs by none other than her dutiful son, Jean. His poor pathetic wife dies in an accident soon after the Englishman arrives. The double then attempts to put everyone's life to rights, little realising the extent of damage his predecessor has managed to do. Just when it seems as though he is finally succeeding, Jean returns to claim his life back. (wikipedia.org)
I know some of you have been waiting for a book with a plot! So, I hope this pleases your palate! I look forward to reading your thoughts on My Life in France, as we finish it up!
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Julia and I could be best friends....
I finished My Life in France last night. I really enjoyed it! It was nice to read a book and not have to think about the plot, or lack thereof. It really is amazing how great this woman's memory is! I mean, 30 or 40 years later she can remember the vintage of wine, the names of restaurants, and the address of her homes. Something that really impressed me was the way she and Paul were devoted to each other. And how they were both involved in work together. There friendship is amazing, they just had fun together!
Some favorite quotes,
Pg. 17 "In France, Paul explained, good cooking was regarded as a combination of national sport and high art, and wine was always served with lunch and dinner. "The trick is moderation," he said"
Pg 18 "Paul and I floated out the door into the brilliant sunshine and cool air. Our first lunch together in France had been absolute perfection. It was the most exciting meal of my life."
Pg 41 tells the story of the cheese lady, Mme. la Proprietress. This was exciting and interesting to read! Check it out!
What amazed me, I think, is the level of intensity with which she attacked everything! She spoke and read 3 languages fluently. And she has written multiple books! I can vouch for what a masterpiece, Mastering the Art of French Cooking is, Mike bought it for me a couple years ago and it is a great reference and great recipe book. Surprisingly enough, the recipes are easily made and delishous! She has inspired me to try new things, and put more effort into my cooking!
Some favorite quotes,
Pg. 17 "In France, Paul explained, good cooking was regarded as a combination of national sport and high art, and wine was always served with lunch and dinner. "The trick is moderation," he said"
Pg 18 "Paul and I floated out the door into the brilliant sunshine and cool air. Our first lunch together in France had been absolute perfection. It was the most exciting meal of my life."
Pg 41 tells the story of the cheese lady, Mme. la Proprietress. This was exciting and interesting to read! Check it out!
What amazed me, I think, is the level of intensity with which she attacked everything! She spoke and read 3 languages fluently. And she has written multiple books! I can vouch for what a masterpiece, Mastering the Art of French Cooking is, Mike bought it for me a couple years ago and it is a great reference and great recipe book. Surprisingly enough, the recipes are easily made and delishous! She has inspired me to try new things, and put more effort into my cooking!
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
My Life in France
I'm about 1/3 of the way through. Was a little reluctant to read at first b/c the title, well that just about says it all "not really a Man's book". I must say after reading what I have so far, I've come to appreciate and know her much more than I had already known. Much of my knowledge of Julia was limited to PBS cooking shows which I usually flipped by rather quickly. She is quite an amazing woman with an incredible memory to boot. The things that she can remember from the periods of 1948-54 blow me away. People's names, her teachers, acquaintances, specific recipes and the specific tastes of food that she enjoyed in that particular moment just astound me. I can't remember what I had for lunch yesterday. I admire her ambition to learn about something with such intensity about something that she had a passion for. That includes learning the language too.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
