Showing posts with label vacation reads. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vacation reads. Show all posts

Sunday, October 11, 2020

1956 Club: French Leave By P. G. Wodehouse

 

I've been reading a lot of P. G. Wodehouse lately and it occurred to me that it was very likely that he had published a book in 1956 that I could read for Simon and Kaggsy's 1956 Club! I depend on Wodehouse to cheer me up whenever I need a light read, and once again he came through with French Leave, a slight and amusing novel. 

This one digresses from the normal Wodehouse setting of London or the English countryside -- it's mostly set along the French coast, in fictional resort towns of Picardy and Brittany. The characters are primarily American and French and I don't think there's even a single English character which is very unusual for Wodehouse. 

But here's the setup. The book starts in America, on Long Island. The three Trent sisters, Kate, Jo and Teresa (known as Terry), are trying to make a go of a farm, selling eggs, milk, and honey, and having a pretty hard time of it. Conveniently, they have a windfall of $2000 each, and the two younger sisters, Jo and Terry, decide to risk it all on a trip to France, in search of millionaire husbands. Eldest sister Kate is aghast and is determined to go along as a chaperone. Jo and Terry will each pose as a wealthy American, with her sister playing her maid, for a month each. Jo goes first in Picardy but is unsuccessful and returns home; Terry continues to try her luck in St. Rocque.


Terry does meet up with some genuine millionaires, but she also meets the slightly shady and very broke Nicolas Jules St. Xavier Auguste, the Marquis de Maufringneuse et Valerie Mauberanne, also known as Old Nick. Old Nick is an impoverished French nobleman who prefers living off wealthy wives (he's had at least three), questionable business deals, and his son Jefferson, from his first marriage to a wealthy American. Jeff mostly lived with his mother in America but fought with the maquis, the French resistance, and has a dashing scar on his face to show for it. He's now a struggling writer who refuses to marry for money but is willing to help his father out of a tight spot. In return, Old Nick decides to set up his son with the delightful Terry Trent, whom he believes is loaded with American cash. 

Unfortunately this plot also includes spending time on a yacht with some other wealthy Americans, including Old Nick's second ex-wife Hermione Pegler, who believes that Terry is an adventuress (technically, she is) who will mess up her plans to marry off her niece Mavis. Mrs. Pegler wants to pair Mavis, a fizzy-water heiress, with Freddie Carpenter, another fizzy water millionaire (Mrs. Pegler owns considerable stock in both water companies, and hopes that a marriage between the two would be of financial and personal benefit). She thinks that Terry is after Fred's money, but Terry and Jeff are instantly smitten. The fact that neither of them has any money and assume the other one does leads to misunderstandings, tears, and a lot of physical comedic moments. This being a Wodehouse novel, everything comes right in the end. I can absolutely imagine adapted as a classic screwball comedy from the early 1950s. I recently watched Some Like it Hot and there are some elements that are similar -- wealthy Americans on yachts, husband-hunting, and characters climbing out of hotel windows.)

Not French, it's the historic Del Coronado Hotel in San Diego, California. It was the filming location for Some Like It Hot (which is actually set in Florida). 


I enjoyed French Leave, though it isn't a classic Wodehouse -- I think I've read 17 books by him so far, and I wouldn't count it among his best. There are some characters that seem superfluous, and some definite loose ends that are never resolved. However, it's a fun, short novel, and can easily be finished a day or maybe even one sitting (it would be perfect for a vacation read) -- preferably in a resort town on the coast of France. 

Thanks again to Simon and Kaggsy for hosting this event, can't wait to do it again next time! 

Sunday, August 23, 2020

Something Fresh by P. G. Wodehouse: Silliness at Blandings Castle

 


After my visit to Second Story Books in Rockville last month, I realized that nearly all the unread P. G. Wodehouse in my home library were from his Blandings Castle series. I get twitchy about reading books in a series out of order (except for Zola), so I decided to track down the first novel, Something Fresh, first published in 1915 (titled Something New in the U.S.) It was available for digital audio download from my library, and since I was about to embark on a long car trip, it seemed like the perfect choice for a summer read. This book doesn't count for a single one of my reading challenges but it was a break from all the long books I'm reading this summer, and it is so delightful I had to write about it.

The story begins with a young man called Ashe Marson, a young writer of thrillers who is lodging in a cheap rental near Leicester Square in London (though I am sure it would shockingly expensive today). He has drawn the attention of a fellow lodger, Joan Valentine, because he is outside one morning doing calisthenics in the street. They get to talking and it is revealed that Joan is also a writer for the same cheap tabloid, and they both want to get out and do something more interesting (and profitable). 

Meanwhile, we are introduced to the hapless Freddie Threepwood, the second son of Lord Emsworth of Blandings Castle. Freddie is in a tizzy because he has recently become engaged to a young heiress, Aline Peters, daughter of an American businessman. His father is pleased with the engagement, but Freddie is worried that he may be served with a breach-of-promise lawsuit from a pretty chorus girl. Freddie never actually met her but sent her flowers, letters, and poetry, which may have included a proposal. He fears that he may be subject to blackmail or even legal action. 

Then we have Lord Emsworth, a gruff yet lovable but extremely forgetful man, who is liable to steal the silverware from a restaurant as most people would walk off with a cheap ballpoint pen. Whilst visiting his future in-law Mr. Peters, the absent-minded Lord has unwittingly absconded with a valuable Egyptian artifact, a precious Cheops scarab, from Mr. Peters' collection. Mr. Peters will stop at nothing to get it back, including a large reward, and places an ad in the paper for a young man seeking a well-paid adventure, which attracts the attention of Ashe. 


All these characters converge on Blandings Castle for a fortnight's holiday in which everyone is trying to get their hands on the scarab, with the addition of various relatives, hangers-on, secretaries, and servants, and hilarity ensues (and even a little romance). If you're familiar with the Jeeves and Wooster stories, this is definitely in the same vein, especially the classic novel The Code of the Woosters (which also involves an artifact being stolen back). There is even a brief mention of an Emsworth relative named Algernon Wooster -- a precursor of Bertie, perhaps? 

This was the perfect book for a car trip, and I found myself laughing out loud multiple times. It was brilliantly narrated by Frederick Davidson, who does all the voices and accents beautifully (except for a few slips in his attempts at an American southern twang). Davidson also narrated the audio version of Les Miserables that I downloaded earlier this year, and his reading was a big part of keeping my interest for the 56 parts of the novel. He was a prolific narrator of more than 700 audiobooks and I think I could listen to him read a telephone book, if they still exist. 

I'm looking forward to more Blandings novels and maybe even the TV series, which I have yet to watch. Has anyone seen it? And which Wodehouse novels do you recommend? I've read several of the Jeeves and Wooster novels and some of the stand-alone novels. Next up in the Blandings series is Leave it to Psmith, which is #4 in that series, so I don't know if I should go back and start with Psmith #1 and jump back into Blandings. Does it really matter?

Monday, July 20, 2015

On Very Long Books


I'm beginning to feel like it's been to long since I actually wrote a book review -- summer is generally the time when I get a lot of reading done, but lately, I've been obsessed with really long books. Specifically, The Count of Monte Cristo and the Outlander series.

Monte Cristo, unabridged, is more than 1,200 pages long, so it definitely qualifies as one of the longest books I've ever read (disclosure: I am also listening to it on audio on my commute to work, which is only 15 minutes each way). Each of the Outlander books have page counts of more than 800 pages, probably closer to 900 -- and the series gets longer as it progresses.  So far, I've read about 900 pages of Monte Cristo and have now read half of the Outlanders. This is definitely going to impact my end-of-year book count -- I normally shoot for around 100 books, but I don't even think I'll hit 90 if I continue with all the doorstoppers (I still have half of Trollope's Pallisers series on the horizon.

So it made me think about the other really long books I've enjoyed -- there's something just so wonderful about getting really engrossed in a long novel or series, and knowing that you get to settle in with these characters and stories for a good long time. As I look through my Goodreads list of my favorite long books, I noticed a lot of them are historicals and fantasy novels -- makes sense when you think of all the world-building they pack in. And of course there are quite a few Victorians! Here are some of my favorite really long books:


1.  Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell. (1013 pages). I first read this when I was in the sixth grade, and I've reread it many times. The underlying racism does make me uncomfortable, but I'll always love Scarlett O'Hara and her spunk. I wouldn't want to be her friend, but she's one tough chick.

2.  Bleak House by Charles Dickens. (989 pages). By far my favorite of all of Dickens' works -- it has everything! Mystery, satire, humor, a great love story -- and one of the first literary detectives in the English language, the wonderful Inspector Bucket. There's also a great miniseries adapted by the BBC in 2005.

3.  The Way We Live Now by Anthony Trollope. The first book by Trollope that I ever read, and still one of my favorites. It's a great satire about politics and a pyramid scheme (amazingly timely when I read it in 2009) -- great drama, great characters. It's more than 780 pages and 100 chapters, and I could hardly stop reading it. I would seriously sneak away to read just one more chapter.



4. Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell. A charming, delightful Victorian romance novel about two families. Very Jane Austen-esque without being a complete ripoff.

5.  Of Human Bondage by W. Somerset Maugham. (611 pages). One of the first classics I ever read for pleasure. I reread it a couple of years ago and loved it just as much the second time around.

6.  The Children's Book by A. S. Byatt. Great story about artistic families around the turn of the century in England. It's long with lots of plot and fascinating characters, just the thing for a lazy summer read.


7.  Middlemarch by George Eliot. Big and sprawling with a long list of characters living in a provincial town in 1830s England. Starts out a little dry but well worth sticking with the entire 800 pages.

8. Fingersmith by Sarah Waters. Great neo-Victorian about a pickpocket who gets involved in long con to fleece an heiress out of her inheritance. I think Sarah Waters is one of the best writers of historical fiction around, and this book includes one of the best plot twists I've ever read.

9. The Crimson Petal and the White by Michel Faber (838 pages). Another neo-Victorian, about a prostitute named Sugar and her relationship with a perfume magnate.

10. Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke. (782 pages). Imagine if Jane Austen and Charles Dickens got together and wrote their own version of Harry Potter. The wonderful BBC TV adaptation is airing now in the U.S. If you're scared by the length, maybe watching it on TV will get you hooked. I loved every page of it!

What are your favorite long books to read during the summer months? And what are the longest books you've ever read?

Friday, March 6, 2015

Vacation Sneak Peek


Going on a pretty wonderful vacation tomorrow.  Here's what I'm going to see:





And eat lots of this:


And of course, plenty of this:

Yes, those ARE giant mountains of gelato.  

Yep, I'm going back to Italy!!  A week in Rome, but this time we're bringing the kids.  But less books than last year -- I packed SIX books, of which I only finished three (plus I downloaded an ebook on my husband's iPad).  That was waaaay too many (my suitcase was small but heavy; my husband was a saint and didn't say a word).  This year, I'm only allowing myself three, plus we're sharing a Kindle and the iPad.  

I had to pack at least one Italian book:


And I'm also bringing a Victorian novel described as "a ripping good yarn":


I don't plan on taking a two-month break from blogging before my next post!  Ciao!!

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Arsene Lupin, Gentleman Thief by Maurice Leblanc


What is it about mysteries that makes them such perfect summertime reading?  I was looking for a fun, quick read for the holiday weekend, and I put Arsene Lupin, Gentleman-Thief into my carryon bag.  I could not have chosen a better book -- short stories are perfect vacation reads, especially when traveling (since one is so often interrupted by those pesky airport and in-flight announcements); also, this book had the added advantage of being on the TBR shelf and a book translated from French, so I can use it for the Paris in July event.

So.  Arsene Lupin is a dashing, debonair gentleman thief -- he steals from the rich (but doesn't give to the poor); first published in 1907, he's a bit like the French version of Sherlock Holmes -- but if Sherlock were the criminal mastermind, instead of the detective.

Arsene Lupin himself is a mix of James Bond, Robin Hood, and Hercule Poirot.  He's suave and sophisticated, the ladies all swoon over him, and he's so brilliant that he always outsmarts the police, especially his nemesis, the detective Ganimard.

This edition includes thirteen short stories, all of which were delightful, if not always strictly believable.  Lupin is a brilliant master of disguise, despite the fact that his photograph is published in newspapers, he's able to fool even the police; he always manages to escape the worst situations; and he's so brilliant he can steal the unstealable, and break into any building, no matter how impenetrable and well-guarded.  He can also solve the crimes of other perpetrators.  In short, he's rather over the top, but the stories are light-hearted and full of witty banter, so it's hard to take them too seriously and judge them too harshly. They're a really fun alternative to Sherlock Holmes, plus they're French, so what is not to like?

Sunday, July 14, 2013

Giants in the Earth by O. E. Rolvaag


Back in 2000, we moved to Nebraska, a state about which I knew absolutely nothing, except that it was surrounded by six other states which I'd not yet visited, and that they grew a lot of corn.  I did not know that it was full of kind and charming people, that the weather was lovely eight months of the year (I won't lie: winters were long and often harsh) and that it was within driving distance of several major cities, including Kansas City and St. Louis.  It turned out to be one of the nicest places in which I would ever live.

Anyhow, not long after our arrival, an old college friend came for a visit, bringing a hostess gift of two books about life on the prairies:  My Antonia and Giants in the Earth.  I did finally read My Antonia with a book group while living right there in the heartland (and I've accumulated another stack of books by Willa Cather) but somehow, Giants in the Earth kept getting packed and unpacked for the next three moves (it did not even cross the ocean for our assignment in Japan; it was relegated to storage for three years).  When I made this year's TBR Pile Challenge List, I buckled down and committed to reading it after schlepping it unread for thirteen years.

So, finally, I finished this book last week, while on vacation in Michigan -- not so much corn in suburban Detroit, but the weather was pretty nice and I had lots of spare time to read.  And I was pleased to discover that after all these years of waiting around and moving this book from house to house, I did enjoy this book.  It's the story of a Norwegian pioneer family after the Civil War:  Per Hansa; his long-suffering wife Beret; and their three (soon to become four) children.  

First published in Norwegian back in 1927, Giants in the Earth starts out as the family is alone on the prairie, trying to catch up with some other Norwegian families who have left Minnesota and are going to start a new settlement in the Dakota territories (not Nebraska, but relatively close to where I eventually lived in Omaha).  Per Hansa et al have become separated from the group and are lost on the prairie; Beret is pregnant and terrified of what will happen if they don't get their bearings and meet up with the rest.  Everything they own is stuffed into the wagon drawn by their two oxen, and it's like a giant sea of grass.  

Eventually, they catch up with the rest and all seems well.  The rest of the story is several years in the life of the family; basically, it's like Little House on the Prairie, but from the point of the view of the adults.  Seriously, what was it really like for Ma out there, all alone in the Dakota territory, living in a sod house?  They were miles from anyone else -- can you imagine giving birth all alone like that?  And living in a house made of dirt?  And the winters -- well, winters in Nebraska are long and hard.  I love the change of seasons, but I really enjoy the Texas winters -- it's rare if it drops below the thirties, much less snow.  Winter in Omaha can last about five months, and the wind whips over the plains, and boy, it is cold.  I loved living in Omaha but I don't know how people did it 150 years ago, miles from anyone else for days or weeks at a time.  And don't get me started on outhouses in the winter -- I haven't been camping for years, and it was in the summer.  I like my modern conveniences!

I've been a military spouse for 18 years, and since 1995 we've had six major moves, including one overseas.  They're always incredibly stressful, even in modern times with real beds, real toilets, and professional packers and movers.  I don't know how pioneer women did it back then.  These women had to deal with the cold and the dirt and they were lucky to see a midwife, much less a doctor.  And the stress of worrying about crops -- these people are dealing with plagues of locusts just like the Ingalls family in LHotP.  We've got some giant bugs in Texas but nothing like what they had to deal with.

Anyway, it's a really interesting book if you're at all curious about pioneer life.  It's an easy read (though many of the characters are named Per or Ole or Hansa) and my biggest quibble is how abruptly the book ended.  Afterward I realized that it's the first of a trilogy, so you find out what happens to the family in subsequent books, though they're harder to find.  I don't know that I enjoyed it enough rush out and track down the next two books right away but you never know, I might look for them after I've made some more progress on the TBR piles. 

This book counts for my 2013 TBR Pile Challenge; my 2013 Chunkster Challenge; and it's book #29 in my Classics Club Challenge.  

Friday, July 13, 2012

L'Assommoir by Emile Zola


Well.  I have really been out of the blogging loop the past week or so, as I have been on vacation in beautiful California.  First, I was visiting my baby nephew in San Diego and then a side trip with my youngest child to Disneyland.  Believe it or not, I actually got some reading done.

So what did I read on vacation?  Light, fluffy beach reads?  Murder mysteries?  Something by a California author, at least?  Well, I did bring one book by John Steinbeck, but I never even cracked a page of it.  Instead, I spent my vacation reading a book about poor French people who drink themselves to death! Yes, dear readers, my choice for a light vacation read was L'Assommoir by Emile Zola, also known as The Drinking Den.  Fun stuff!

What happened was this.  I had a big stack of French books and Victorians to choose from for vacation reads, lighter stuff mostly -- including The Ladies' Paradise by Zola, an ode to shopping and consumerism (perfect for Disneyland, right?)  Well, on a whim, I grabbed L'Assommoir off the shelf to read a few pages while I had my lunch.  I'd been putting this Zola off because it sounded absolutely dreary, but during lunch,  I read the first chapter and I was completely hooked, so I HAD to bring the book on vacation, because I had to know what happened next.  

Here's the setup:  Set in the mid-19th century, Gervaise Macquart is a young woman of twenty-two, living in seedy hotel in Paris.  In the book's first pages, she's anxiously waiting up all night for her lover, Auguste Lantier, the father of her two young sons.  He finally arrives home at the crack of dawn after drinking and carousing all night; meanwhile, she's pawning all her possessions so they can eat.  She goes out to do some laundry and meanwhile Lantier skips town with practically everything she owns.  (Her reaction to this news while doing laundry is pretty priceless; the book is worth reading for this chapter alone).

Gervaise is no quitter, and pulls herself up by her bootstraps and works hard as a laundress.  Eventually, she marries a roofer named Coupeau, who seems like an upstanding, non-drinking guy.  After a rather rocky wedding day (another great chapter!), things are going pretty well for her.  She and Coupeau are both working, he's a good father figure, and she's ready to go into business on her own.  Sadly, she's surrounded by jealous gossips who take advantage of her and stab her in the back at a moment's notice -- and then her old lover Lantier shows up and worms his way back into her life.  She and Coupeau start on a downward spiral that is horribly depressing yet so engrossing I could not stop reading it.

I've read a lot of books with characters that I like to call fascinating train wrecks, but Gervaise has to be one of the worst -- but Zola writes her and her situation so well.  The characters seem so real that sometimes I just want to jump into the book and give them a good shaking.  Her life is hard but things are looking up until she makes one stupid decision after another.  I wanted to slap her upside the head like Cher slaps Nicolas Cage in Moonstruck (one of my favorite movies of all time):



If you've read any Zola before, this book combines the train wreck aspects of La Bete Humaine with the nasty backbiting characters of Pot-Bouille, in a Paris apartment complex in a working-class neighborhood.  It's the seventh in the Rougon-Macquart cycle, and though the characters are related to others in the series, it's fine to read as a stand-alone book -- Gervaise is the mother of Nana, the eponymous main character in book #9; and also of Claude, the artist in The Masterpiece (#14); Jacques,  the engine driver in La Bete Humaine; and Etienne, the mine worker in Germinal (#13).  Of those, I've only read La Bete Humaine and Germinal, both of which I loved, so it was interesting to read about their childhoods and how Zola was setting up these characters for the later books.

Based on the title, I thought this book was going to be incredibly depressing and dreary, and this is somewhat true --there are some scenes of people drinking that are pretty awful and even nauseating, but they're only a small part of the book; from the title, I thought the entire 400+ pages was going to be about people sitting around a bar getting soused.  Also, the ending is pretty sad, but that didn't surprise me -- I've read seven novels by Zola so far and not a single one has a happy ending!   However, Zola is so good at weaving these tales I can't stop reading them.

Has anyone else read this novel?   Did you find it incredibly depressing?  And is it strange that Zola writes these amazing books about such wretched people?  And does anyone else take classics on vacation?

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Recent Acquisitions

It's already February and I never posted about my holiday acquisitions!  Not only did I receive some nice books for Christmas, I also did a little shopping, both online and in a post-holiday trip to New York.

Here's what was under the Christmas tree:



Two audiobooks:  Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen AND A Dance With Dragons by George R. R. Martin;

Two books I really really wanted:  Life Below Stairs by Sian Evans (to feed my Downton Abbey addiction); and The Earth by Emile Zola. . . . and (drumroll, please. . . )

The Great Penguin Bookchase game!!  I've been coveting this ever since I read about it on Thomas' blog My Porch.  Thanks for telling me about it, Thomas!   I haven't played it yet but I've had a lot of fun putting all the tiny little stickers on the books.

The week after Christmas I took my parents up to my favorite bookstore in the Lone Star State:  Bookpeople in Austin!  We had a lovely day and I bought two more books (for which I paid full price, supporting my local independent bookstore!):


Charles Dickens: A Life by Claire Tomalin and Summer Will Show by Sylvia Townsend Warner

And a few days after Christmas I took my youngest on a her first-ever girl trip to New York City!!  One of the highlights was visiting Tom, one of my dear friends from college whom I hadn't seen in ages!  We were invited to a book exchange party -- everyone brought their favorite book from 2011 and we all talked about our books and swapped.  My contribution was The Annotated Persuasion by Jane Austen.  Here's what I brought home:


Operation Mincemeat by Ben MacIntyre.   I haven't read much nonfiction lately but I am interested in WWII.  Also, this book is actually related to one of the Persephones I read in 2011, Operation Heartbreak by Duff Cooper.  I don't want to give anything else away but if you plan on reading all the Persephones, don't read this book until you do, because it would give away a major plot point.  That's all I'll say.

But back to the New York trip!  Aside from visiting friends, museums, and the fashion district, we did a little book shopping -- honestly, I can't think of a single trip I've taken in the past few years when I didn't come home with at least one new book!  Naturally, we had to visit The Strand Bookstore in the Village.  I managed to keep my purchases down to only two books from the sale table in the basement:


Two more NYRB Classics to add to my collection (mostly unread!):  Hons and Rebels by Jessica Mitford and My Dog Tulip by J. R. Ackerley.  And to my delight, my daughter bought a new book for the airplane ride home -- one of my all-time favorites, Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones!

On the way back to our hotel, we also stopped by Books of Wonder, the amazing children's bookstore, where I bought two more books:  


The Story of The Treasure Seekers by E. Nesbit and a Welsh-language copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone!  This brings my total of foreign language Harry Potters to twelve in all.  

And by the end of the month I had broken down and made two more online purchases:



I had to buy The Last Chronicle of Barset because I finished the third book in the Barsetshire Chronicles, based on my reading of the wonderful Doctor Thorne (most of which I read while flying home from New York, because my flight was delayed).   My library doesn't even own a copy!  The fact that it's almost 900 pages long and there are two more books in between shall be ignored.

Finally, one of my online groups is reading one of the latest Persephones: 


It's Greenbanks by Dorothy Whipple.  I've read two other books by her so far and loved them both.  We shall disregard the fact that there are three more on the TBR shelf unread, right?

Good thing I didn't sign up for the challenge where you don't buy any more books for the first three months of the year.  I would have utterly failed again!

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Packing for Ft. Worth


I'm almost on my way to visit Ft. Worth, Texas!  I'm a member of the Jane Austen Society of North America (JASNA) and this week I'm going to their Annual General Meeting, also known as the AGM.  I didn't get to go last year to the one in Portland, but I went two years ago to the 2009 AGM in Philadelphia and had a wonderful time.
Last time I went with my mother, who can't attend this year, but this time I have two other Texas friends coming with me from our local chapter, so I'll have two roommates.  I'll be spending five days in downtown Ft. Worth meeting other Jane Austen fans, learning English country dancing, playing whist, and attending lectures and seminars about Jane Austen.  I'm such a literature geek, I can hardly wait!

Last time, I naturally packed waaaay too many books in my carryon -- I don't know how I imagined I'd have time to do much reading!  I did actually read two books last time, so I'm cutting back from six books packed last time, to only four.  Hey, I need to have choices!  Here's what I may be bringing with me:


The Annotated Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen -- I recently finished The Annotated Persuasion, which was wonderful.  The theme for this years' AGM is Sense and Sensibility, in honor of the 200th anniversary of its publication.  So of course I'll need my own copy close at hand.

The Grand Sophy by Georgette Heyer -- considered by many to be the Queen of Regency Romances, Georgette Heyer wrote more than twenty books set during the Regency period.  One of my book groups is a monthly Jane Austen group, and we have to alternate her works with other related books.  In November we're each going to talk about a different novel by Heyer.


A Clash of Kings by George R. R. Martin -- I know, it's the complete opposite of Jane Austen!  But I've been dying to read the second volume after loving the first book in the series, A Game of Thrones.  I've been saving this one, since I want to stretch the series out -- book five was just published, so who knows how long it will take before Martin finishes the next volume?  This is a big fat book, perfect for reading on planes, shuttle buses, etc., because it's lots of very short chapters, which make it easy to pick up and read just a little at a time.

Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen -- one of my possible reads for the October Classics Circuit -- which will also fulfill my fourth book for the RIP challenge.  

A Warning to the Curious by M. R. James OR The Penguin Book of Gaslight Crime -- a couple more choices for the RIP Challenge.  It's always nice to have a book of short stories on hand, for the airport or for a quick read at bedtime -- though ghost stories might not be ideal right before I go to sleep!

And I'm also packing a few extra books about Jane Austen -- there are quite a few authors attending and they'll hopefully be able to sign my books.  But those don't count since I probably won't be reading them, just getting them signed.

I just recounted and I'm up to seven books which is more than I brought last time to Philadelphia! Am I the only one who packs books first for a vacation -- and packs way too many??  Which ones should I bring, and which ones will I have to save for later?

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Paris in July



I'm so excited about the Paris in July read hosted by Karen at Bookbath and Tamara at Thyme for Tea!  I'm packing for my vacation, and I've resolved once again to work my overstuffed TBR bookshelf.  If nothing else it has narrowed down my choices somewhat.  First, some French classics:



It's a little hard to read, but from top to bottom:

The Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo
Bel-Ami by Guy de Maupassant
Nana by Emile Zola
Germinal by Emile Zola
The Drinking Den by Emile Zola

(And by the way, I bought that copy of Hunchback at the actual Notre Dame gift shop a few years ago. Which is in Notre Dame.  Halfway up the 300 bazillion steps!!  I feel sorry for the woman who works there, the only bathroom is on the main floor, so if she has to go up and down about 15 flights every time.  She must have amazing legs!)

I also have some slightly more contemporary fiction by English and American authors, but all set in France:



France in Mind edited by Alice Leccese Powers
The Tapestry of Love by Rosy Thornton
The Dud Avocado by Elaine Dundy
The Scapegoat by Daphne du Maurier

I'll definitely be reading at least one book about food:


My Life in France by Julia Child
The Olive Farm by Carol Drinkwater
Cooking For Kings: The Life of Antonin Careme by Ian Kelly

I also have some other nonfiction about France:



Paris to the Moon by Adam Gopnik
Marie Antoinette by Antonia Fraser
La Belle France: A Short History by Alistair Thorne

I'm hoping to get through at least one from each stack but I'm definitely going to read Germinal, which is the July choice for my real-life classics book group -- we thought it would be so appropriate for July.  Right now I'm also leaning towards The Scapegoat, My Life in France, and Cooking for Kings.

So what do you think?  Good choices?  Which ones have you read and loved?  Should any of them be skipped and donated to the library sale?

Saturday, June 11, 2011

A Small Stack of NYRB Classics

Since reading and loving The Slaves of Solitude this past week, I was motivated to take a look at all the other NYRB Classics I have hanging around my shelves.  A few months ago I wanted to participate in an NYRB Reading Week, but sadly I just didn't have time.  However, Thomas from My Porch posted a striking photo from his collection that inspired me to take this:




The photo is a little fuzzy, so here's the list from top to bottom:  

The New York Stories of Edith Wharton by Edith Wharton
The Dud Avocado by Elaine Dundy
The Pilgrim Hawk by Glenway Westcott
The True Deceiver by Tove Jansson
The Towers of Trebizond by Rose Macaulay
Stoner by John Williams
The Post-Office Girl by Stefan Zweig
The Fountain Overflows by Rebecca West
The Mountain Lion by Jean Stafford
The Summer Book by Tove Jansson
Don't Look Now by Daphne du Maurier

My stack isn't nearly as impressive as Thomas', but there's still plenty to choose from -- so far, I've only finished one from the stack, Don't Look Now by Daphne du Maurier.  I have a vacation coming up in a couple of weeks, and I'm already thinking about which books to pack in my carry-on.  Right now I'm leaning towards The Summer Book and The Dud Avocado.  Any suggestions?  Which of these would be best for a vacation read?