I’ve been consumed with book blogs these past few weeks. I don’t know why. There, I said it. Not that there’s anything shameful in it but I’ve been wondering at this need to hunt down and devour all things book. Some decent ones I’ve had the good fortune to stumble on:
Oh & a look at the syllabus from the far far future —
Fifty Shades of Enough Already – I’m all for escapism and losing yourself in a fantasy but the brouhaha over Fifty Shades escapes me. I can’t help wondering whether the fascination stems from that segment of (women) readers who don’t have any exposure to romance as a genre. There’s plenty of books out there which combine Alpha heroes and sex scenes (if that’s what has got all the women swooning) with good writing (Lisa Kleypas) and humour to boot (Susan Elizabeth Phillips anyone? Or Laura Willig? Or Julia Quinn?). For me the troika of bad writing (grated on my nerves), zero plot and cardboard characters meant passing over this series. For all the Fifty Shades fan out there I’d say more power to you but really, there’s plenty of better stories.
Books done with in the last two months – Shadow of Night (Deborah Harkness), Great Escape (Susan Elizabeth Phillips), Death Comes to Pemberly (P.D. James), The Magician King (Lev Grossman), The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry (Rachel Joyce)
There are plenty of books in the ‘betwixt’ stage right now as well; a consequence of being a grown-up I think.
As a grown-up with all the grown-uply things which have to be taken care of I find my reading confined to the slivers of time during the commute, before/during/after dinner, in queues and other such-whiles.
As a reader I hate this with a passion. I love immersing myself in a story to the point of oblivion. The fall-out of reading in slivers of time is the loss of this gradual dissolution of my self into the story. Just when I find myself settling in, I have to tear my attention away. This hugely detracts from my enjoyment of the book. More importantly this slows down my progress towards what I call the point of no-return. (The point till which you have to diligently wade through before the story takes hold of you). And so it is that I find my progress on Wolf Hall stalled.
Considering picking-up Cloud Atlas again. Having had to continuously renew the book from the library had made me finally give up on it (I’d managed to finish the first two story arcs). Considering that the movie’s made by Wachowskis and features Tom Hanks and that I remember enjoying whatever I’d read, I’m thinking of picking it up again.
Currently Reading: The Lymond Chronicles by Dorothy Dunnet (just started the first one in the series), From Eternity to Here by Sean Caroll
Books which I flit to during the in-betweens: An Agatha Christie mystery, a Georgette Heyer book, The Oracle of Stamboul, Pride & Prejudice
P.S. I’m beginning to understand why I love reading in the night – it’s a relatively distraction-free zone