This weekend it seems that I am in a list-making mood. Here is a short list of bits of conversation I heard last night at Wordsworth in Harvard Square:
- Father to his elementary school age son while standing in the poetry section: “I promise this torture won’t last but a few seconds more.”
- Man in the literary criticism section to no one in particular: “Why such depressing music? Why?” (in reference to the Dar Williams’ cover of REM’s “Fall on Me” playing in the background)
- Conversation between several store employees:
- “Let’s all go to New York right now.”
- “Why? What would we do there?”
- “We could go to the American Museum of Natural History.”
- “On a Friday night?”
- “Why not?” (And this led to a long conversation about each person’s favorite American Museum of Natural History memory.)
- Clerk to customer: “Are you a professor? Usually, when people say that they only have two weeks a year to read fiction they are professors.”
- Clerk to another clerk (I think): “One woman came in today and bought $500 worth of books. She was from New Zealand and only buys books once a year.”
And, if you are curious, I bought the July issue of The Believer (which I read most of last night) and Alice Sebold’s The Lovely Bones (after finally giving up on waiting for a paperback edition). I really wanted Jon Krakauer’s new book, but I decided to wait a little while.
July 19th, 2003
Last night I could not sleep because of the thunderstorms passing through the area. I have overcome my childhood fears about storms that once forced me to hide in closets, under beds, and in windowless bathrooms to ride out torrential downpours and lightning shows, but it seems I am still easily awakened by overnight storms.
I don’t know if it was the change in barometric pressure, the increased electricity in the air, or simply, the noise, but I was awake, and since I was awake there was nothing to do but read. Appropriately, I finally finished Life of Pi, with the storm providing the perfect complement to the storms Pi faced on the open sea. I felt vaguely satisfied after I finished reading it although, contrary to the various blurbs on and in the book, neither my religious faith nor my literary faith were changed.
The paperback edition that I purchased has a reading group guide. I felt compelled to read the questions and muse on them (probably because it was 4 a.m. and I was awake). One series of questions grouped under #10 really annoyed me. Partially because one of the questions was silly and would not lead to a serious group discussion. Another of the questions was a variation of the stranded on a desert isle question.
I hate questions about being stranded on a desert isle. The sad fact is that you do not get to choose what you can take with you on a desert isle or in any situation where you are stranded, detained, or placed somewhere unexpectedly; you have to make do with what you are fortunate to have with you, if you have anything at all. (*sigh* if only I had said that during my undergraduate admissions interview for a certain Ivy League university, instead of staring blankly at my interviewer…)
I wonder if anyone actually makes use of these reading group guides? I wonder who has the job of writing these questions? What if authors wrote their own reading group guides? Could an author seriously write his/her own guide? I don’t think that I could.
At any rate, one book down, many libraries’ worth to go.
Related links:
- Panphobia (linked to above):
- On the theory that fear is based on the unknown, this site links to books, films, and websites about what you fear most.
- Life of Pi links
July 19th, 2003