After 11 years of blogging at Blogger and many years recently, agonising about lost comments, it took losing three posts, in as many months, to help me make the switch.
A new year - a new me!
Come and find me at my new Wordpress blog - The Reading Life - and feel free to leave a comment :-)
Some posts you may have missed:
It is twelve years since I taught my last class (I was reminded just yesterday of how that final class has grown, when one of them popped into the bookshop to buy books for her mum for Christmas. She is now in her final year of school, and has matured into a thoughtful, gracious young woman). Which is my long way of saying that it is also twelve years since I last read The Tale of Peter Rabbit (1902).
I now have a beautiful hardcover copy of Beatrix Potter's Complete Tales. It contains a lovely map of Hawkshead and Sawrey, showing where many of the stories take place, including the Tailor of Gloucester sitting next to the road to Gloucester and South Coast, with Pig Robinson. This collection then lists all the stories in chronological order. The Tailor of Gloucester is the third story. To get to it, one has to go past the original Peter Rabbit and The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin (1903).
However, I couldn't skip past so glibly.
I settled down, with the memories of classes past arrayed in front of me, and read Peter Rabbit, then Squirrel Nutkin out loud. All the old phrasing and pacing came back to me. I knew where to pause for dramatic effect and how to milk the tension. I was transported to another time and place. These two mischievous characters are drawn so sympathetically, it's hard not to love them and their naughty ways. However, Potter was writing these stories for the children of her former governess, so she was careful to give both Peter & Nutkin a proper comeuppance, for after all, bad behaviour should come with natural consequences.
The Tailor of Gloucester is a longer story and was considered by Potter to be her favourite from amongst all her books. It is based on the true story of a tailor in Gloucester, John Prichard, who was commissioned to make a waistcoat for the local Mayor. He had to leave it unfinished on Saturday evening, but when he turned up to work again on Monday, it was finished, except for one buttonhole for which there was 'no more twist'. In real life, it was his two assistants who secretly helped out. In Potter's imagination the helpers turned into little brown mice and the setting became Christmas Eve.
Our hard working tailor becomes stricken with a fever. In his delirium he keeps muttering about needing 'one more twist', and 'where is my twist'? He is ill for three days, until it was Christmas Eve. Everyone else was buying geese and turkeys and baking Christmas pies, but not our poor tailor. His only company was his mean old cat, Simpkin.
But it is in the old story that all the beasts can talk, in the night between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in the morning (though there are very few folk that can hear them, or know what it is that they say).
Rather like the Grimm's Brothers fairy story, the Elves and the Shoemaker, the tailor's hard work and dedication is rewarded when he needs it most. Even Simpkin, sees the errors of his ways, and does his bit to help out too.
A review appeared in the trade journal, The Tailor and Cutter, on Christmas Eve 1903. One hundred and seventeen years later, it is hard to top!we think it is by far the prettiest story connected with tailoring we have ever read, and as it is full of that spirit of Peace on Earth, Goodwill to Men, we are not ashamed to confess that it brought the moisture to our eyes, as well as the smile to our face. It is got up in choicest style and illustrated by twenty-seven of the prettiest pictures it is possible to imagine.
Epigraph:
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| Christmas Eve at Coogee Beach - even the tree is in quarantine this year! |
It’s a little like losing your life while still being alive, this experience.
Behind me a small line had formed....A family was looking for books for their kids to read. I felt like I was in a metaphorical breadline - a breadline for feeding the brain and the soul.
When you look out & see the empty streets & sidewalks & shuttered shops, a friend tells me, see it as solidarity - everyone doing their best to keep themselves & everyone else healthy....Even so, I can’t deny how sad & disorientating the absence of life in these once busy streets seems.It's only a small volume. A slim slice of life as we are living it now, by someone who has a tender eye for detail, for the unusual and the routine. Hayes is a thoughtful man who reflects on how is feeling throughout this time as well as documenting the impact on some of those around him.
In the enforced solitude and silence, you can sometimes hear yourself replaying moments in your life, things said or not said, done or not done, love expressed or not expressed, all the gratitude you’ve ever received, all the gratitude you’ve ever felt.He captured some of the feelings and moods that I also experienced during our Sydney lockdown. The moments of anxiety as well as the odd moments of peace - being able to listen to an individual bird sing, watching a skateboarder roll down an empty street from his apartment window...
Because I’ve worked at home for years now, the mandate to stay home and work from home is, I imagine, a little easier for someone like me. I’m also a loner and an introvert (except when it comes to strangers), which helps too.
Even so, there are times when I feel spooked - not scared but spooked.However, what I found most endearing or comforting as I read How We Live Now, was the sense of solidarity that we are all in this together, and the reminder to live our lives now. Our collective here and now may not be the one we planned for or expected, but this is what we have right now.
Because what IS is what matters most. What was will only make you blue in New York.
This is our life. We are living it. And that's all we have ever been able to do - to live in the world we are in.
Wishing that things were 'normal' or talking about when things go back to 'normal', will only lead us to despair. This is our normal now. We're living it. Whatever happens afterwards, will be different to what went before. This experience will change us all, in big ways and in small. We don't know what or how yet, but change is one of the few things guaranteed in life. Covid-19 has simply been a real in-your-face reminder that this is so. If we fight against it, we can become bitter and disappointed. However, if we accept it, and let go of our desire to control everything (one of the hardest lessons I've certainly had to learn as an adult) we can learn to roll with the punches and find some grace in just being, here, now.
And like Hayes, I am curious to see what's on the other side.
I am climbing the walls here. But I also know I am among the most fortunate: I have a roof over my head, food in my fridge, and my health to be thankful for. So, if this is how we have to live - with masks and gloves and almost no human contact for several more months - then so be it, this is how we have to live. I just want to see what's on the other side of this f***ing mountain.
I cannot believe the last time I sat down to write a Covid Chronicle was back in July.
Melbourne was at the beginning of it's second wave, while the rest of the country held it's collective breath. Would the outbreak spread? Would we all have to go into another lockdown?
Numbers steadily increased around the three hotspots in Sydney and by August most of the states had closed their borders to each other. Anyone coming or going from one state to the next, would have to self-isolate for two weeks. A very tricky situation for long haul truck drivers, in particular, to manage.
Melburnians went into a hard stage 4 lockdown on the 2nd August when their Premier announced a state of disaster. They had a week or so of 600+ positive cases a day, before the restrictions started to take effect and a steady decline in positive cases set in.
I began wearing a mask to work and anytime I had to be in a shop. It wasn't mandatory in NSW, just highly recommended by health officials. I was dealing with the public every day, so it seemed like an easy and simple thing to do to keep me from catching a virus that I'd rather not catch.
By the end of August the few hotspots in Sydney were all under control, with contract tracing and self-isolation doing the trick.
Interstate travel was still almost impossible, so we all enjoyed our spring break closer to home. Mr Books and I had a lovely week in the Port Stephens area, walking along the beach, reading and relaxing. We have been holidaying in this area for over 20 years now; it was the busiest we have ever seen it.
Our holiday home in the Blue Mountains has been booked out every single weekend since July when state-wide travel reopened. We have never been busier.
By the middle of September, NSW basically had zero community transmission. I was able to leave the mask at home again, much to the relief of my hearing impaired colleague who had been unable to lip read during the whole mask-wearing phase.
Melbourne was getting on top it's second wave and it seemed like their tough approach was turning things around. By the end of September, they were able to finally ease restrictions.
A Trans-Tasman bubble came into effect in October between New Zealand and NSW, the ACT and Northern Territory. There were a couple of hiccups at the start, but it seems to be working well now.
On the 24th October, Victoria recorded 98 active cases; this was the first time since the 19th June in which Victoria had under 100 cases. Two days later they recorded zero new cases and zero deaths - a double doughnut day - as another new phrase entered our Covid-normal world!Until then,
Take care; take heart.
Can you believe it's this time of year again?!
2019 was a year of working hard, staying close to home and change.
I had no intention of reading Such A Fun Age. The premise sounded only mildly appealing/interesting.
But really, I'm rather over the whole adulting trope with a world peopled by no-one but twenty-somethings and thirty-somethings. Yet it was hard to completely resist the buzz surrounding the release of this book.
I wanted to love The Forest of Wool and Steel far more than I did in the end.A coming-of-age story about a piano tuner from a remote mountain region in Hokkaido had all the right ingredients for me - one as a former (very amateur) piano enthusiast and two, as a recent visitor to Japan. It was beautifully, elegantly written, with gorgeous chapter illustrations showing a piano slowly being returned to the wild. Nature, naturalness and nurturing were ideas that ran through the piece. It's tone was pianissimo (softly, softly), it's tempo larghissimo (as slow as possible).
I left you at the end of The Covid Chronicles #1, heading off into the wild, wild west with Mr Books.
Our first stop was to visit my parents. This was the first time we found ourselves considering how social distancing might work in the real world. As we drove into town, we realised that we shouldn't hug my parents hello, or even shake their hands. The news was full of images showing Prince Charles bowing to people to avoid shaking hands. So we waved and bowed too!
Talking to My Daughter About the Economy took me AGES to finish...and now even longer to review!
I want to be the kind of person that is informed about financial stuff, but honestly, the word economy just makes my eyes glaze over and my brain go numb. Keeping daily accounts and a family budget - yep, got that. Managing things like home loans, savings accounts, superannuation, paying bills - yep, can do. But as soon as you go down that old rabbit hole of world markets, capitalism and economic stimulus, you lose me. Every single time.
Given that we cannot travel outside our home state, let alone the country, at the moment, I thought I might indulge my bookish instincts with my itchy feet and explore the world via bookshops.
Every time I see these very chic, very elegant picture books, I want to say Cla-reece. I have an acquaintance called Cla-reece. However to read these stories, I have to make a huge mental effort to say 'Paris-Claris' in my head a few times to find the rhyme.
A big part of the reason I love reading Maigret's so much is the glimpse into life in Paris in the middle of the 20th century. Maigret and the Killer opens with Mrs Maigret and her man, dining out with friends discussing the merits of the Madame Pardon's 'unparalleled boeuf bourguignon...filling, yet refined', provincial cookery that was 'born of necessity', whilst finishing off the meal with the obligatory 'coffee and calvados'.
of 20 Books ofSummerWinter.
My edition of the 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die is a 2009 reprint by Harper Collins Australia with a Preface by Australian journalist and book lover, Jennifer Byrne. Back in February 2016, I spent one ghastly heatwave weekend, going through this book and compiling my read and to-be -read lists with the idea that I would constantly refer back to it and update it.
Welcome to AusReading Month 2020!Now in it's eighth year, AusReading Month is all about reading and talking about Australian literature.
As they say in show business, that's a wrap folks!AusReading Month is tucked away for another year.
...the Love-god, golden-haired, stretches his charmed bow | with twin arrows, and is aimed at happiness, | the other at life's confusion.
Euripides, Iphigenia in Aulis
JOMO GÜNTER-RIEHL. Address: 200 Church Street, Apartment 7A, Tribeca, New York 10013. Occupation: Founder & Director of Gem Acquisitions, House of Riehl Luxury Jewelers. Gradutae Degrees: MBA, University of California, Berkeley '13.
Last time I wrote one of these updates it was to brag about my life.
It wasn't enough for Terzo that their mother had not died. It wasn't enough that she lived in her sea of waking dreams. In Terzo's view, she had to live like us, rationally, in a rational universe.
Except of course, Terzo's world, or his idea of living, were not as rational as he thought.
In the end, though, the occasional insights and beautiful writing were not enough for me to rate The Living Sea of Waking Dreams particularly highly.
It astonished her that he had a view as deeply held felt as hers and yet entirely opposite, and which he held with an equal conviction. And in the face of someone who would not be persuaded by her, she did not seek to see the world for a moment as he saw it but instead was simply angry with him that his world was not her world.
To the axe of the spoiler and self-interest fell a prey;And Crossberry Way and old Round Oak's narrow laneWith its hollow trees like pulpits, I shall never see again:Inclosure like a Bonaparte let not a thing remain,It levelled every bush and tree and levelled every hillAnd hung the moles for traitors - though the brook is running still,It runs a naked brook, cold and chill.
Opening Lines:
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Her hand.
2.
It's impossible to say how the vanishing began or if it was already ended, thought Anna.
The brilliance of Flanagan’s story and the deep power of this novel is in our witnessing of the end of the world. The death of Francie opens up a black hole in the family drawing Anna, Terzo and Tommy into its implacable singularity.
The Living Sea of Waking Dreams [is] at its best when it balances its vehemence with its beauty, when it leaves space for the reader to wander and wonder – eucalypt leaves swinging down like “lazing scimitars”; a moth thrumming its “Persian rug” wings.
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| UK Cover |
2020 was the year of many things. Some planned and expected, like the War and Peace chapter-a-day readalong. But many things unexpected and impossible to plan for as well.
Who knew that Plague-Lit would become a thing?
Or that I would waste one whole perfectly good reading month by feeling weird and distracted about a certain virus to the point of being unable to read or blog or focus on anything productive except for another 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle!
How can 2021 possibly compare?
2021 will still be a year dominated by Covid-19 - it's not going anywhere in a hurry folks. Any new vaccine will take time to get out there and there are no guarantees about mutations or other unknowns. I cannot see any overseas travel on our immediate horizon. Even inter-state travel is fraught with uncertainty and quickly changing border rules.
2021 is looking like another quiet, stay-close-to-home year. Which is perfect for tackling some of those reading projects I've been meaning to get to for ages.
Therefore 2021 will be Project-Read-My-Own-Books (PRMOB).
A number of possible reading challenges have already come to my attention and I am creating two of my own.
Nick @One Catholic Life is once again hosting his now-famous chapter-a-day readalong. This year we are reading several different books to make up the 365 chapters.
The schedule looks like this:
December 2020:
January 2021:
February:
March:
April:
May:
June:
July:
August:
September:
October:
November:
December:
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| (incidentally International Fairy Bread day is celebrated on the 24th Nov) |