Tree-Killing
From the desk of The Ultimate Romance Reader, who knows how mind-numbingly bored/consumed by hatred I am at work, and therefore would love nothing more than to talk about books:-
How many books do I own?
Let's see, minus a few crateloads of books I've lost along the way to unreturned borrowings, movements to and from several boarding schools and uni accommodations and houses and assorted detritus- current estimated stock is probably around 500.
Figure arrived at via multiplying an average of 3-5 books accumulated a month (and I complain about being broke!) over 5 years (when I attained semi-financial independence and took full advantage of Border's/Waterstones 3 for 5 book deals and cheap, cheap used book-stores) added to I think the 200 or so books that have chosen to remain with me prior to having attained semi-financial independence.
The last book I bought?
Hardcover edition of Dr Seuss' One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Book Fish bought at Pay-Less Books, costing half the price of the paperback copy bought at evil Big Bookstore-that-covers-its-books-with-clingfilm.
Reason for buying an extra copy: It's HRC's favourite book (surpassing perhaps, Oh, The Thinks You Can Think!). And by 'favourite' read: In imminent danger of being chewed to pieces as sign of sheer ecstatic joy at sight of the Red Fish. Therefore extra (Cheaper! Hardcover!) copy advisable.
Other books purchased in second-to-last book jaunt (to Evil Big Bookstore, alas!):
Australian Women's Weekly's Low Carb and Low-Fat Recipes and Bob Greene's Get With The Program!
Due to current obsession with losing weight and getting fitter- I'm slightly obsessive-compulsive and incapable of doing anything by halves (unless it's a BOIW-related assignment, ack!). Hence, the 3 fitness-related classes I'm currently signed up with a week and placement of Oprah (and her trainer, Bob Greene) on weight-loss pedestal.
Jennifer Weiner's Good In Bed and Little Earthquakes
Chic Lit. I hang my head in shame. What can I say? Read the first pages of the two books on the author's blog. Due to aforementioned obsessive personality, simply had to find out what happened next. Managed to refrain from purchasing In Her Shoes as the movie would be coming out soon. Then again, so could the movie versions of the books I'd bought. (Note: Min, want two Chic Lit books?)
McSweeney's Mammoth Treasury Of Thrilling Tales, edited by Michael Chabon
The only book purchased during this book jaunt that I'm not ashamed to admitting to purchasing. I'm currently enamoured/obsessed (there's that word again!) with everything related to McSweeney's. Wanted to find the late Amanda Davis' Circling The Drain or Wonder When You'll Miss Me, but alas Cool Books don't sell as well as Chic Lit or Self-Help. Not a single Dave Eggers book in sight, even. No Kavalier and Clay- this book must've been mistaken for something else to have made the aisles.
Conclusion: Obsessive-compulsiveness and shame fuel my book purchases.
The last book I read?
The two Jennifer Weiner books. Yes, you can read (certain) books simultaneously. And especially if your reading modus operandi consists of grabbing any book from the bedside table and reading one-handedly whilst breast-feeding.
Five books that mean a lot to me?
Ouch. Such a toughie. But since I blatantly cheated on the Top 5 records thing I did, therefore using up my blatantly cheating on Memes quota for the quarter (yes, there are such things) I will endeavour to think this through carefully. Based on the 'meant a lot to me' criteria, as opposed to Books I am In Love With and Need To Have Around At All Times, in no particular order, these are:
1. The Roald Dahl Omnibus, Roald Dahl
Anyone who hasn't read Roald Dahl's stories, both for children and adults is, in my opinion, missing out on some of the best story-telling of the 20th century. Macabre, acerbic, hilarious and so close to the edge of what we deem reality that your head spins afterwards, wondering whether your feet are really touching the ground. This collection includes all the stories from Over To You, Someone Like You, Switch Bitch, Tales of the Unexpected, Further Tales of The Unexpected and last, but definitely not least, My Uncle Oswald (my favourite Dahl story of all time). Whenever I open this book, I remember hot, lazy afternoons in my late grandmother's house when I'd crack the book open (yes, I am one of those dreaded spine-crackers- I attempt to refrain when reading others' beloved, and more well-cared for, books however) and pick a story at random.
And if My Uncle Oswald didn't form some part of the inspiration behind the Genius Factory, I'll eat my copy of Fantastic Mr. Fox.
2. One Hundred Years of Solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Fell in love with Latin American Magic Realism after reading Like Water For Chocolate. This one, though means more to me since Mr. Nads was coerced into buying it for me prior to my A Levels. I made him keep it til my exams were over (no discipline in the fiction vs. studying fight). And any book with at least 10 characters either named Aurealiano or Arcadio wins in my book (no pun intended)
3. Penguin Book of English Verse
Actually, I can't remember the exact title. This was an ancient copy (published in the 60s) that I'd borrowed (and haven't returned!) from my friend (and introducer to Roald Dahl) Ayesha, when we were angst- and pimple-ridden adolescents, wondering why puberty was so cruel. It was falling apart even then.
It chronicled English verse from Beowulf (which I skimmed over) to Dylan Thomas, T.S Eliot and W.H Auden. Used it to memorise Auden's Law, Say The Gardeners. which I'd happily doodle out even today, especially during boring meetings (or recite quietly whilst walking alone, thus giving the public the impression that I am mad). This is the book that began my love affair with poetry, an essential tool to surviving adolescence. Quoting Amex, 'Cost: Few pence. Value: Completely and utterly priceless'.
In passing, does anyone else think that the last stanza of Law, Say The Gardeners really presents the definitive view of love?- Like love we don't know where or why/ Like love we can't compel or fly/ Like love we often weep/ Like love we seldom keep. Sigh.
4. The English Patient, Michael Ondaatje
Favourite book of all time. No matter how many times I read it, lines like "There are stories the man tells which fall from level to level like a hawk" still give me the shivers.
5. The Big Book Of Questions And Answers
The book I owe a large part of my geekiness to. My grandad gave it to me for my 5th birthday- Enid Blyton had yet to make her jingoistic, un-PC appearance into my life. The book is actually big, more so for a five year old- hardcover, opens up to slightly bigger than A3 size and more than 1000 pages over. I think I'd burnt the ears off of my parents, grandparents and assorted aunts and uncles with my incessant questioning by this point (1 question every five minutes since learning to talk- you get the idea).
It was extremely empowering for a five year old to know such things as "Who painted the Mona Lisa?", "How do bats hear?" and "Why does the Coliseum slant?", if not doing serious damage to my popularity in the playground.
No answers to "Why do men always think that they have to provide answers when all we want them to do is listen?", alas.
Five more people to tag
Unlike Mz Min, I'm having difficulty coming up with five people, since she's pre-empted The Grrls (Drat you, Min- I don't have that many friends, you know- thanks in part to The Big Book Of Questions and Answers). Hopefully the following victims people still read this blog:-
1. The Bohemian Bureaurat, as I like what she's been reading and I too, miss the Guardian quick crossword (sniff, sniff).
2. Ms. J., who's been bugging me to "update!" and who'll be busy entertaining her Mum. Also, who I fully expect to include To Kill A Mockingbird (no-brainer, this)
3. kudo, who manages to read so much despite the appearances of dead bodies.
4. My sister Tash, whose blog add I cannot for the life of me remember since she's refused to give it to me in writing*. However Tash, you cannot come to me to obsess on whether the inclusion of Zora Neale Hurston or Catcher In The Rye or The Great Gatsby would make you seem too plebeian, or something.
Side-note: Obsessiveness (and pedantic behaviour) is genetic
*Got it. Please have a read- if only to 'incentivise' her to update. The poem she's written makes me want to cry at my lack of talent. Poetic ability is unfortunately, not genetic
5. Mokcik Nab, because I like what she's shown of her reading list, so far. And she's one of the most well-read people I know of.
nads went at 10:40