Superclean

Ahhhh. That's better. The house is no longer a sty. Well, it wasn't exactly a sty, but by the standards at which I like to keep the house whenever possible -- it was getting close. The poor dogs had to deal with the vacuum for an inordinate amount of time. I didn't want to put them outside while I was running it because then they'd just track melty snow onto the carpet.

I finished reading "A Wrinkle in Time" this early afternoon when my housecleaning was done to my satisfaction. I'm sort of proud of myself for finishing it. As Carl said in his comment to my last blog, he doesn't like to waste time finishing a book if he doesn't like it. I've always been like that as well, but I'm trying to force myself through things this year even if I don't enjoy them, especially if they are "classics" because I feel I should read them. But I disliked this book very much. I kept hoping it would eventually have some redeeming quality, or be beautifully tied up in the end so it all made sense. The attempt at the tying-up-loose-ends was valid, but I don't think it was passionate enough to come through the way the author probably intended. I know -- who am I to say such things about a literary classic? I like what I like. I didn't like this. The end seemed haphazardly thrown together, like she was thinking -- I have to end this soon, what should I do? Oh, this seems easy... it left me wondering why she didn't do one of two things: either fully flesh the story out to be the size of an adult novel, or take some of the more random elements out and put more emphasis on the ending. She develops the characters at the beginning for such a long time that when the actual story comes along, the plot just jumps all over the place and never really becomes much of anything. I'm rather thankful it wasn't longer!

I also finished the Steve Martin book this evening, and had the exact opposite response. I have a deep appreciation for his use of language, which I remarked upon at the beginning of the autobiography, but as the story went on, my appreciation grew even more. I love listening to books that are narrated by the author, because I believe their tone and inflection are obviously indicative of precisely what they wanted at any given point. Books read by someone else besides the author have the reader's connotations mixed in, almost like a teacher interpreting a poem written by someone else -- it's never quite what it was truly meant to be unless you're getting it directly from the horse's mouth. So everything about this book, to me, was exactly what it should have been. He had me laughing out loud more than once, but also seeing deep into his life and what made him the person he is. It also ended perfectly. Read it. Now. "Born Standing Up".

I'm about to catch up with the last couple of days worth of American Idol, and I need to figure out what I'm going to read next. I'm toying with a couple of ideas...

Until next time, thanks for reading! Bring your friends!
SJS