Still Here...Still Reading...

Once again, I've become a bad blogger. But once again, I've also become inundated with life (still trying to buy that house). As a quick update -- and because I should have posted this earlier -- I've joined the Chronicles of Narnia Reading Challenge from Carrie at Reading to Know. I finally received my complete copy of the chronicles (three cheers for alliteration!) in the mail yesterday, so I'm diving in. My goal is to read all seven of the books, and my particular copy starts with The Magician's Nephew, so that's where I'm starting.

Click on the link above or the button below to find out more about the Chronicles of Narnia Reading Challenge.



On that note, I'm still involved in the Essay Reading Challenge from Carrie at Books and Movies, and I have a stack of essays (so to speak) sitting on my hard drive right now. I will get around to reading them before the end of the year.

Passing

I'm not a huge fan of pop music and the various permutations of that genre. But at least I hope that I have the sense to recognize real talent and genius.

Rest in peace, Michael Jackson.

And for his sake, I hope that he finally has found some peace.

Poetry Study: Catching at Hope

"De Profundis"
By Christina Rossetti

Oh why is heaven built so far,
Oh why is earth set so remote?
I cannot reach the nearest star
That hangs afloat.

I would not care to reach the moon,
One round monotonous of change;
Yet even she repeats her tune
Beyond my range.

I never watch the scatter'd fire
Of stars, or sun's far-trailing train,
But all my heart is one desire,
And all in vain:

For I am bound with fleshly bands,
Joy, beauty, lie beyond my scope;
I strain my heart, I stretch my hands,
And catch at hope.

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Christina Rossetti is certainly not the greatest of the Victorian poets, but she's good enough to be remembered; and perhaps more importantly, she's eminently readable. As for "De Profundis," there's a sing-song-who-has-seen-the-wind quality to it, but there's also a part of me that really likes this. She expresses in simple poetic phrases the kinds of questions that plague many human beings, and while the style seems to reduce these ideas to simplicity there is a serious inquiry that can be derived from Rossetti's poem.

Text of poem taken from the Poetry Archive.

Music: Moving Into Modern

I guess I'm still in the mood for Russian music. Two recordings, the first by Alexander Borodin (1833-1887) and the second by Dmitri Kabalevsky (1904-1987).

First piece: Prince Igor: Polovtsian March
Second piece: Colas Breugnon, Op.24 -- Overture

What's so interesting about listening to these composers one after the other is getting a sense of the transition in music from late Romantic to modern.

Art Study: The Nightingale Sings

This isn't necessarily a great work of art (or I wouldn't describe it as such), but it has a quiet beauty to it. And there's something very touching about the stance of the girl, so it kept speaking to me. Or singing...?

Description:

The Nightingale Sings
(1923)

Artist: Mikhail Vasilievich Nesterov (Russian, 1862–1942)
Oil on canvas
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Derived from the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Saint Calendar: Ethelreda of Ely (Æðelþryð)

23 June

Sister of Saint Jurmin. Relative of King Anna of East Anglia, England. Princess. Widowed after three years marriage; rumor had it that the marriage was never consummated as Etheldreda had taken a vow of perpetual virginity. She married again for political reasons. Her new husband knew of her vow, but grew tired of living as brother and sister, and began to make advances on her; she refused him. He tried to bribe the local bishop, Saint Wilfrid of York, to release her from her vow; Wilfrid refused, and instead helped Audrey escape to a promontory called Colbert’s Head. A high tide then came in -- and stayed high for seven days; it kept her separated from her husband and was considered divine intervention. The young man gave up; the marriage was annulled, and Audrey took the veil. She spent a year with her niece, Saint Ebbe the Elder. Founded the great abbey of Ely, where she lived an austere life.

Etheldreda died of an enormous and unsightly tumor on her neck. She gratefully accepted this as Divine retribution for all the necklaces she had worn in her early years.

In the Middle Ages, a festival called Saint Audrey’s Fair, was held at Ely on her feast day. The exceptional shoddiness of the merchandise, especially the neckerchiefs, contributed to the English language the word tawdry, a corruption of Saint Audrey.

Patronage:
--neck ailments
--throat ailments
--University of Cambridge
--widows

Representation:
--abbess holding a model of Ely Cathedral
--abbess with a crown holding a staff which is budding


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Text derived from Patron Saints Index.

Book Review: The Undomestic Goddess, by Sophie Kinsella

Sarah at Library Hospital recently reviewed The Undomestic Goddess, and her review piqued my interest. Since I just discovered the local library system where I now live (yeah!) and acquired a library card (another yeah!), I decided to christen my library card by checking out this book.

All right, first things first. Sophie Kinsella writes fluff. It's fun, enjoyable fluff, but it's still fluff. At the same time, she writes fluff really well, so I'll give her credit for putting together a story that holds the reader's interest. She's found her niche as a writer, and she makes the most of it. Her stories are usually a bit silly and unrealistic, but the characters are always rather likable in a hapless sort of way. I loved the Shopaholic books, and this one is written in the same vein. (With that in mind, if you didn't like the Shopaholic books, I'd take a pass on this one.)

One of the reasons I waited so long to pick up this book is that the plot summary always struck me as requiring a little too much suspension of disbelief: Samantha Sweeing is a brilliant attorney with the bright prospect of a partnership in the prestigious law firm where she works ahead of her. She's a workaholic, but she believes that her hard work has paid off, and she's looking forward to being made a partner. Then, one ghastly day, she finds out that she's made a mistake -- a mistake that's going to cost £50 million. Unable to cope with the reality of what has happened, Samantha basically has a nervous breakdown, ends up somewhere in the English countryside, and manages to get hired as a housekeeper for a middle-aged couple. It was this part of the plot summary that kept me from reading the book sooner. I understand that it's meant to be ironic, but it just seemed so bizarre. For some reason, it reminded me of that Seinfeld episode when George pitches his sitcom idea to NBC: a man causes a car accident, but doesn't have the insurance to pay for the damages to the other person's car, so the judge requires that he work as a butler for the other person. So weird it's silly -- and that's what I expected to find in The Undomestic Goddess.

And yet Kinsella seems to make her odd little plot work. I don't know that it's because the plot itself really works but rather that Kinsella's characters are strangely endearing, and it's difficult not to keep reading to find out how things work out. She also writes in the first person/present tense, so there's a somewhat breathless, urgent quality to her stories that turns reading them into the feeling of a race that must be won. Maybe that's what keeps me reading... Anyway, Samantha does go to work as a housekeeper, and there are many pages devoted to her baptism by fire as she attempts to figure out how to fake it when she doesn't even know how to turn on a stove, much less cook, clean, and run a whole house. Along the way (of course) she falls in love with a local man, and then (of course) she must come to grips with her past and right the wrongs that have been done.

Kinsella had me for most of the story, although I have to admit that I was disappointed with the ending. I was hoping for more closure and for more of a compromise within Samantha's situation. It becomes an all-or-nothing decision, and I don't think it had to be that way. The love story gets a bit tangled up at the end as well, and I think Kinsella rushes some moments that needed more time.

But then again, it is just fluff. And it made for a fun afternoon read. So, maybe that's good enough.

Year of publication: 2005
Number of pages: 374

Poetry...and Some More Music

Different takes on the story of the two sisters/swans.

"The Bonny Swans"
Loreena McKennitt



A farmer there lived in the north country
a hey ho bonny o
And he had daughters one, two, three
The swans swim so bonny o
These daughters they walked by the river's brim
a hey ho bonny o
The eldest pushed the youngest in
The swans swim so bonny o

Oh sister, oh sister, pray lend me your hand
with a hey ho a bonny o
And I will give you house and land
the swans swim so bonny o
I'll give you neither hand nor glove
with a hey ho a bonny o
Unless you give me your own true love
the swans swim so bonny o

Sometimes she sank, sometimes she swam
with a hey ho and a bonny o
Until she came to a miller's dam
the swans swim so bonny o
The miller's daughter, dressed in red
with a hey ho and a bonny o
She went for some water to make some bread
the swans swim so bonny o

Oh father, oh daddy, here swims a swan
with a hey ho and a bonny o
It's very like a gentle woman
the swans swim so bonny o

They placed her on the bank to dry
with a hey ho and a bonny o
There came a harper passing by
the swans swim so bonny o

He made harp pins of her fingers fair
with a hey ho and a bonny o
He made harp strings of her golden hair
the swans swim so bonny o
He made a harp of her breast bone
with a hey ho and a bonny o
And straight it began to play alone
the swans swim so bonny o

He brought it to her father's hall
with a hey ho and a bonny o
And there was the court, assembled all
the swans swim so bonny o
He laid the harp upon a stone
with a hey ho and a bonny o
And straight it began to play lone
the swans swim so bonny o

And there does sit my father the King
with a hey ho and a bonny o
And yonder sits my mother the Queen
the swans swim so bonny o
And there does sit my brother Hugh
with a hey ho and a bonny o
And by him William, sweet and true
the swans swim so bonny o
And there does sit my false sister, Anne
with a hey ho and a bonny o
Who drowned me for the sake of a man
the swans swim so bonny o

"The Wicked Sister"
Meav



A mother lived by the North Sea shore
Daughters were the babes she bore
One grew radiant as the sun
Darkly grew the elder one

A knight came riding to their door
He traveled far to be their wooer
He courted both with gold and rings
But loved the younger o'er all things

"Sister, won't you walk with me
To watch the ships sail o'er the sea?"
As they walked the rocky shore
The dark one pushed her sister o'er

"Sister, sister, let me live
All that's mine I'll surely give"
"Thy bridegroom I will take and more
But thou shalt never come ashore"

Off she floated like a swan
The salt sea bore her body on
You could not see her lily feet
Her golden fringes were so deep

A minstrel walking by the strand
Saw her body float to land
When he looked that lady on
He sighed and made a heavy moan

He made a harp of her breastbone
Whose sound would melt a heart of stone
Took the strands of her bright hair
And with them strung his harp so rare

He brought the harp to the wedding hall
There to play before them all
When they set it on a stone
The harp began to play alone

The strings sang out a dreadful sound
"The bride her younger sister drowned
Now her secret you all know
Her guilty tears will surely flow"

I'm sure not which I prefer (or even if I prefer one over the other). There's something wonderfully haunting about Loreena McKennitt's version, but I also love Meav's voice and the use of the harp in her version.

I guess it's more a matter of appreciating the value of and the differences within each.

Music: A Little Russian for Your Day

Ballet, that is. Or rather, ballet music with some ballet.

Because I don't think the music from The Nutcracker should be limited to Christmas. And because I don't think anyone needs much of an excuse to watch Veronika Part dance.

(With Cem Catbas of the Baltimore Ballet, 2007.)

Book Review: The Right Wine, by Tom Maresca

This was a rather frivolous purchase: I had birthday money, I was on a "girl day shopping trip" with my husband's aunt (who is, on the side, one of the loveliest people I know), and I saw this at the bookstore. A book about choosing the right wine? Yes, please. Add to this the fact that the companion book was there for sale as well -- Mastering Wine, also by Tom Maresca -- and my money was practically burning a hole in my pocket. I purchased both, and I'm happy to say that they were worth the money. (Which, of course, isn't saying much, since both were pretty cheap...but you know what I mean.)

For some reason, both books don't seem to receive a great deal of attention. I had a tough time hunting down The Right Wine on GoodReads, and I couldn't find Mastering Wine at all. Granted, books about wine probably aren't among the most popular selections on GoodReads, but given the fact that The Right Wine has actually won awards, I was surprised to find that it doesn't seem to be well known. A quick perusal over the reviews at Amazon suggested a possible reason. One of the reviewers complained that the book is written in the style of a novel and thus isn't useful as a quick reference. This is actually true. Before retiring to work full-time as a freelance wine writer, Tom Maresca was a professor of English literature for over thirty years. This means he writes long papers, so to speak, and he draws out his ideas very clearly. If you want the quick and peppy style that so many readers seem to crave in this at-your-fingertips-in-an-instant age, his writing might irritate you. I personally found it refreshing, although I have to be honest and say that some of my delight is in the fact that two of the man's interests are similar to my own: literature and wine. I can't think of a better combination.

To get to the substance of The Right Wine, the purpose is simple: selecting the right wine to accompany food. Kind of obvious, I know, but it can be a somewhat challenging skill to master, especially with more complex foods. Complex foods need complex wines to highlight and complement their flavors. When both work together well, it's magic. When they don't, it's frankly nasty. And it seems to me that this is why so many Americans tend to stay away from wine or to drink it sans food -- because they just haven't been taught to recognize the flavors and varietal elements of wine and to know how to put them with food.

Fortunately, Maresca explains all of this quite clearly. Now, there's no real way to know how to put wine with food until you uncork a bottle and give it a try. But Maresca does a great job of steering the reader in the right direction. And while he is -- and most enophiles are -- something of a wine snob in certain ways, he isn't the kind of wine snob that tries to insist that it must be only certain wines with certain foods. He's very flexible, offering recommendations that the reader can use for personal use but that don't limit the reader. In addition, he offers some really valuable tips for pairing wine with unusual foods. One of the most useful parts of the book for me was when he mentioned that Japanese food almost always needs white wine (Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, and Riesling working best), Chinese foods pairs very well with many of the German wines (Spätlese and Kabinett primarily), and Indian food works beautifully with Alsace wines (Gewürztraminer, Pinot Gris, and Pinot Blanc among them).

As for the second of Maresca's books, Mastering Wine, I'm not going to do a separate review, because it's more of a user's guide for sampling different wines. He basically suggests that readers use a notebook and begin writing down their comments as they taste certain wines, with Maresca recommending specific combinations to give readers an appreciation for the nuances among wines. I haven't tackled this yet (due to a challenging living situation and a bank account that can't yet handle extensive wine tasting), but I look forward to doing so at some point. A word of advice: should you decide that you want to purchase these books, I wouldn't purchase or even read Mastering Wine without first reading The Right Wine. The second really does work best after the first.

So, The Right Wine (with its accompaniment Mastering Wine) gets a big thumbs-up from me, but only for readers that actually want to read about wine. If you want a book that's a faster read, you won't enjoy either of these at all. But if you don't mind a slower pace with more detailed information -- while still being very readable -- these are great options.

[Concerning The Right Wine]
Year of publication: 1990
Number of pages: 360

Book Review: Toujours Provence, by Peter Mayle

Last May, I reviewed A Year in Provence, also by Peter Mayle, and I enjoyed it so much that when I saw Toujours Provence tucked into the travel section at Half Price Books I just couldn't say no. Mayle's writing style is sharpened by a dry wit that is difficult for me to resist. I frequently found myself giggling through A Year in Provence, and it was no different in Toujours Provence, which is billed as something of a sequel to the earlier book.

My one fear in approaching this book was the same for any sequel: that the writer will attempt to replicate the qualities that distinguished the original but only succeed in reproducing now-stale comments and trying to squeeze humor in where no humor can be found. Fortunately, Mayle is too mature and too accomplished of a writer to make that mistake. He seems to accept that he cannot recreate the first book, and his real goal in the second book is simply to share more of his and his wife's ongoing adventures in their home in Provence. Everyone is a little older and a little wiser in this book -- but that's how it should be. The sense of initial surprise that Mayle and his wife experienced on moving to Provence has passed, replaced by a more comfortable appreciation for their chosen home and the way of life that is (as Mayle indicates) inevitably part of it. There aren't the same delights around every corner, but instead there is more of an attempt by Mayle to dig a little deeper into explaining the Provençal life and reveal the complexities of the people and their lifestyle that have developed in their centuries of living in that region. Mayle balances this with his trademark sense of humor, making for a very comfortable read.

All in all, it's a slightly slower book but a no less enjoyable one. If you have read (and enjoyed, of course) A Year in Provence, I can highly recommend this one as a worthwhile sequel. If you haven't yet read the first book, though, I'd encourage you to start with that one. Toujours Provence has limited context without the original book and is probably going to be infinitely less enjoyable. Within the context of A Year in Provence, however, Toujours Provence is a natural follow-up and, as one reviewer noted on the cover, "a welcoming, happy book." I can't agree more.

Year of publication: 1991
Number of pages: 241

Art Study: Arts, Modes, and Frivolities

I'm posting this picture primarily because I love it. The colors are brilliant, the lines are simple and clean, and there's a representation of an entire era -- or at least the idealization of it -- within this single image. I just finished posting about recent fashion magazine covers on my fashion blog, but I'm sorry to say that no magazine today comes close to demonstrating the style in these two pages.

Description:

Gazette du bon ton: arts, modes et frivolities

Illustrator: Georges Barbier
Vol 1.no. 6 (June 5, 1915), pl. 57, pochoir
Illustration, "Isola Bella": robes du soir de Redfern

The "Gazette du bon ton" was published from November 1912 to summer 1915 and from January 1920 through December 1925. The complete run consisted of twelve volumes. The "Gazette" featured elegant fashions of pre- and postwar France by leading designers, utilizing the technique that revolutionized fashion illustration—pochoir, or stenciling by hand with watercolor. Contributing artists included Georges Lepape, Pierre Grissaud, H. R. Dammy, Georges Barbier, Strimpl, Maggie, and Guy Arnoux.

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Text and details derived from the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Poetry Study: Read Phonetically...

And don't think too hard about it :)

"Sumer is i-cumin in"
(a 14th century English round)

Sing, cuccu, nu. Sing, cuccu.
Sing, cuccu, nu. Sing, cuccu.

Sumer is i-cumin in,
Lhude sing, cuccu!
Groweth sed and bloweth med
And springth the wude nu.
Sing, cuccu!

Awe bleteth after lamb,
Lhouth after calve cu,
Bulluc sterteth, bucke verteth,
Murie sing, cuccu!

Cuccu, cuccu,
Wel singes thu, cuccu.
Ne swik thu naver nu!

Sing, cuccu, nu. Sing, cuccu.

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Taken from Swarthmore College.