We interrupt this program to bring you a crucial announcement:
It is possible to die laughing. Behold, a webcomic.
And now! back to the program.
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Well, despite glaring deficiencies, the libraries down here are not so feeble as I originally supposed. Several branches are offering an adult reading program. It's the first I've ever come across, in all my years of library haunting.
The object of the program is to win prizes based upon the number of books you read. The more books, the more chances. I like that incentive, 8D There's nothing more annoying than beginning three books a week, finishing - at most - two by the end of the month, and then returning all twelve books before I accumulate too many fines having read nothing.
Behold! therefore, my reading list, formed of the books currently on my shelf, which I mean to finish in a timely matter, that I may consume more:
Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller
Required reading for school. But I've taken to our required texts with enthusiasm, and have learned to read them for pleasure! A rare triumph, I assure you - I used to be insulted by the word "required".
A Raisin in the Sun by Lorraine Hansberry
Previous required reading for school. I enjoyed the play, and would like to read it again. Let's ignore the fact I need to reacquaint myself with its details for the sake of the critical thinking questions I have neglected to answer and must answer if I want that grade, x3
The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
More required reading! I was irritated when the English professor told the class we would be reading Gatsby. I am half sick of the book, for I have been required to read it each year since middle school. Are there no other brilliant books in this world that teachers can assign?! But ah well. I'm going to listen to it on my iPod. Yes, I feel so modern right now. My iPod is a change to the comfy little rock under which I've made my nest, x3
The Giver by Lois Lowry
I used to read this book once a week when I was younger, with religious adoration. I rediscovered Giver a day or two ago and that discovery bore with it all the old love I had for this book. I'm about to finish it, and mean to read it again. And again. And again. And again. And again. Did I mention "and again"?
Daniel Deronda by George Eliot
I've been wild to reread this for some time now. I first read it at a time when every paragraph that took up more than a page streamed illegibly before my eyes; now, advanced in age (and hopefully, in mental capacity!) I shall attend to each and every word, and discover what I previously missed!
Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
... I do love this book. And I'm reading it again, x3 Listening to it, to be precise. I could die for Jeremy's Irons's voice. And Nabokov's humour! It is wonderful. The adulterous wife leaves him scene is beautiful. La, I've rarely laughed so hard. Lolita is a must.
This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald
I've attempted this book before, and so shall attempt it again. I may have wanted to smack Amory Blaine; that's probably why I didn't finish the novel before.
The Madwoman in the Attic by Sandra M. Gilbert and Susan Gubar
I've been reading this on and off since April. Or May. I no longer remember. I would like to finally finish it. Gilbert and Gubar's theory of the themes shared among 19th century female writers was perfectly fascinating. It filled my brain with story ideas. But now the authors have moved on to examples - finding lessons of independence and individuality among themes of madness, imprisonment, submission, etc. in Jane Eyre, Jane Austen's work, etc. - I have been less attentive. This need remedying.
A Room with a View by E. M. Forster
It's a short novel. And it's on my shelf. Why not read it?
The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky
I shall count it a triumph if I manage to finish a Russian novel this summer.
War and Peace by Leo Tolsoty
:: glances up at The Brothers Karamazov :: Ditto.
Literary Women: The Great Writers by Ellen Moers
It's about women. And writing! And so I must read it. It is very much in tune with Madwoman.
The Female Imagination by Patricia Meyer Spacks
This book was in the bibliography of Madwoman. Thus, it must be read. I'm starting to see a pattern, don't you think? It may have something to do with Femgenficathon 2009 over at LiveJournal. Psst! Scroll down through the quotes and note the usernames. You'll see a Selah Ex Animo. Commence to wonder who she may be, >_>
The Mysteries of Udolpho by Ann Radcliffe
I detest Radcliffe's obsession with scenery. But Mysteries is 18th century Gothic literature, and Gothic literature is my love. Mysteries will be read, even if I must set the book aside, now and again, to escape the sentimental heroine and the overabundance of scenery, and prevent myself from throwing the book at a wall. The heroine grates upon my nerves unspeakably; I could barely force myself through her father's death scene, where he gave a drawn-out speech lamenting the dangers of a hard heart. His silly daughter swooned every few paragraphs. And then the father would raise his voice in loud exclamation, and the servants would come running with salts, to raise the heroine upon some couch and revive her. ... I... really wanted to slap her. My hand itched for an opportunity.
A Writer's Diary by Virginia Woolf
Madwoman has revived my fascination with Virginia Woolf. I'm curious about her writing life, as curious as I am about her diaries and correspondence. I might read A Room of One's Own after this.
13 Ways of Looking at the Novel by Jane Smiley
It's a big book on writing. And its points are numbered. Tell me, how could I resist this?
Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand
I'm reading this for a scholarship essay contest I hope to enter in September. Atlas is a fascinating story; I adore Dagny Taggart, and the title just floors me every time I reflect on it. Atlas, who holds the world upon his shoulders, shrugged. The great people whose inventions are the foundation of our world, rebelled. And what happens to society? Ooh. I am beginning to see why people either hate or love Rand's philosophy, and why Atlas is called a black-and-white work, with too simplistic a view. But it's intriguing. Rand's looter characters are deliciously despicable.
Vanity Fair by William Thackery
Seriously. I am reading this novel for the title alone.
So there you have it! 18 books, and this not even half my writing list (I am just running late for class and have no further time to write, that's all). I shall have finished a page of my reading log if I read but 12 of these books. Wish me luck! I may return to this blog to keep progress of my reading; I meant to do that on another blog, but Something Phenomenal looked so sad and neglected. And besides, I'm starting to dislike splintering my identity between blogs. I shall be Selah wherever I go. Hmph >.>
But before I go, did you know that M. G. Lewis, author of the Gothic novel, The Monk, was only 19 when he wrote it?
... I shall now suppress the raging feelings of inadequacy that arise whenever I consider that I am 19 and have only poetry, pieces of stories, and a first draft novel to show for it, and go to class.
Though I will add that in conclusion, comics about Marth are always funny. Srsly.
