Presents for myself: holiday book haul

Since graduating from my MA in September, I've applied for quite a few jobs and landed one. It's part-time and not highly lucrative. But it also happens to be one of my dream jobs, and the one thing it does subsidize is my serious book-buying habit. You guessed it: I'm working in a bookstore! And at the staff holiday shopping night last week, in addition to getting gifts for some bookish friends and family, I made myself an early present and bought these four beauties.

The Marriage Plot, by Jeffrey Eugenides, is obviously a good bet because it's author's name is unpronounceable. Just kidding. (Although have you noticed how many highly regarded authors cause people embarrassments at dinner parties when they try to pronounce them out loud? J.M. Coetzee is my personal favorite in this category. Oh, and let's not forget the publishing house that's joined the trend: Knopf. I had to say their name out loud at work this week and had a split second of sheer panic after it came out of my mouth, wondering whether I'd said it wrong.)

Actually, this is a book that's been recommended to me by all my just-out-of-college friends - apparently it's very relatable for us new grads. I also really appreciated Eugenides' writing in his more famous novel, The Virgin Suicides, although I don't love that book the way thousands of young women on the internet seem to...
But I have higher hopes for this one, and the first few sentences seem to confirm what my friends promised: a book about people reading books. Which is definitely right up my alley.

Next up is something I'm REALLY looking forward to. This book sat next to my desk for a month while I was writing my dissertation. It belonged to my housemate, and at that point I was dedicating all my time to my work, so I was doubly incapable of giving into temptation and flipping open the gorgeous little cover.

Now, though, I'm ready to sink into The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of her Own Making, by Catherynne M. Valente. A year before this book appeared next to me, tantalizingly out of reach, I was writing my undergraduate thesis on film adaptations of fairy tales, and I've been really interested in reading more written adaptations ever since. This book, as far as I know, isn't a direct reworking of any specific tale, but an entirely new tale written in a fable-like style. I can't wait.

And it just looks so luscious, with these gorgeous chapter head illustrations. It reminds me a bit of the illustrations in Harry Potter, but more outrageous and fanciful.


The best part is, this is a series, so I have at least two more books to look forward to. I haven't really researched yet whether there are more to come. Another thing I've noticed during my first month at work is that children's books are usually less expensive than adult books - but they can be as or more beautiful as objects.

In that vein, I finally now own a copy of The Arrival, by Shaun Tan. I've been Tan's books - and this one in particular - since last summer, when I almost saw him speak at the Edinburgh International Book Festival. I believe he's a filmmaker as well as an artist, and this book certainly has a filmic sensibility. There are no words, even within the illustrations. Instead, where there would be words on signs or pieces of paper in the story, there are strange symbols, a bit like a new set of hieroglyphics. This aligns perfectly with the story since, as far as I can tell from flipping through it, it's a story of a man immigrating to a foreign country where he doesn't speak the language.

I absolutely cannot wait to find a quiet moment and sit down with this book. It's just so damn gorgeous.

Finally, to fill out my eclectic little bundle, I got myself a copy of Melymbrosia, by one of my all-time favorites, Virginia Woolf. I'd never heard of this particular novel before I spotted it on the sale table. As I learned from a bit of googling, this is because it's an original version of a novel that Woolf later published as The Voyage Out after her friends urged her to tone down the politics and edginess of her first version. I haven't read The Voyage Out, but I suppose it's only right to start with the original.

In any case, it's always a pleasure to read Woolf. I forget how brilliant she was until I sink back into her writing and find myself wowed and humbled and inspired all over again. I guess to call myself a real devotee I should have already read all her work, but I'm a person who likes savoring things, and it's lovely to think I have many more of her books to discover for the first time.

I will in all likelihood be posting reviews of these books here as I read them. Meanwhile, I'm working my way (very slowly but with great pleasure) through The Luminaries, by Eleanor Catton. Seriously, it's an amazing read, but I feel like it deserves and demands my full attention, so I've been trying to find nice quiet hours to read it, and that's quite difficult now that I actually have a job! I truly realize now how blessed I was this past year to have my full-time job be to read, study, discuss, and write about books.

Recipe: Yogurt cake with strawberry-nectarine compote

 Got a cup's worth of yogurt in the fridge? I did yesterday, and after a few hours of editing the first chapter of my dissertation, I definitely needed to bake a cake. The obvious solution is this yogurt cake recipe, which I got from the Whole Foods website. The only thing I adjusted is adding a few drops of milk at the end, because the batter looked alarmingly thick and sticky. I figured it might be because I used very thick greek yogurt, so I added the milk to lighten it up. I have no idea if that was the actual cause or if the milk had the desired effect. Anyway, it turned out deliciously.

After I popped it in my inconsistent and uneven student-housing oven, I cut up some overripe fruit I had and improvised a little compote. Half a lemon squeezed over the fruit, 1/8 cup water, a tsp of sugar. Boil until thick and delicious.

I've actually gotten a lot bolder with improvising in the kitchen this year. Possibly because I'm the only person eating it, so if I mess up, no one else will suffer. Possibly because, when sorting which food blog to use for a given recipe, I end up actually paying attention to what ingredients differentiate scones from bread and pancakes from crepes. Possibly because I've had to substitute quite a few ingredients that I couldn't easily find in this part of the world. In any case, I've learned a lot about cooking as well as literature this year.

Ta-da! The cake rose A LOT, so much that I had to rearrange the racks in the over to accommodate it. It stayed nice a fluffy when I took it out, too.

The end product was delicioso. Not too sweet, because (as I forgot to mention earlier) I only had half the amount of sugar they called for. The compote could have been sweeter, too, if I'd added more than a tsp of sugar, but actually it made a lovely tea-time snack. The best thing about this cake is that it tastes gooey and dense without being buttery or fatty-feeling. It's sort of like eating a bowl of yogurt and fresh fruit, except also a cake :)

How I miss home

Happy first day of spring! I counted up today, and I'm almost 8 months into my 13-month year of living abroad. I spent today packing for a couple of weeks at home and, of course, thinking about all the things I'm looking forward to over the break. And that got me thinking about what I actually miss when I miss home. This year, when I've felt homesick, it's actually usually been a good feeling, because it reminds me of all the things and people I love back home. I'm hoping that when I get back there next year, I'll be able to appreciate those things even more than I did before I left. Of course, things always look rosy from afar, though, so I'm afraid that as soon as I get home, I'll come up with all sorts of stuff that was better over in England! So, I'm making a list here of a few things that I really want to appreciate fully when I get them back in my life.

1. Community.

Family of course is the thing I miss most. I'm very close to my family, and last year (my senior year of college), I was very close to my friends, too (when you live with people for four years, you share a lot!). But this year, I've found myself doing a lot of things alone. I eat my meals alone most of the time, do my work alone, walk to and from school alone, go grocery shopping alone, travel on trains alone. This of course makes it really sweet when I happen to have someone around to do stuff with - when one of my housemates is in the kitchen cooking dinner at the same time as me, or when I run into one of my new friends on campus and sit down to do some studying at the same table. But it's rare, and I not only miss the company I've had from my friends over the past four years and my family for my whole life. I also miss those specific people. Thank god for skype.

It's funny, because I've always thought of myself as an introvert, and I do need plenty of time alone to focus on my work or daydream or just be quiet. Too much time with too many people drains my energy and I have to recharge. But I've discovered this year that too much time without people also drains my energy. I guess the middle path is best.

2. Food.

Not just dishes at my favorite restaurants or special family recipes. No, I miss the food of all the Bay Area, because I'm beginning to realize it's pretty unique. I've complained on here before about much trouble I have finding good veggies around here, and I cannot wait to get back to my local farmer's market. I also just find that people here are less into fresh and healthy eating than me.

Back home last year, a lot of my friends were going vegetarian and even vegan. I'm still an omnivore and probably always will be, but I eat meat maybe once or twice a week, tops, because I love cooking with vegetables. Here, though, people eat so much meat, so many frozen vegetables, so many cans of beans, so much cheap take-out Chinese food. It's not that I abstain from any of those completely (except the beans, gross), but it's weird to be around people who don't know any other kind of food. I was told the other day that I was 'adventurous' for ordering dishes with eggplant and spinach at a restaurant. What?

What I feel is more than just food snobbism. It's profound gratitude that I was raised on truly fresh, local, and delicious food that's good for me and good for the planet. I feel lucky to be able to taste so many amazing things that farmer's have coaxed out of the ground, rather than eating stuff that comes out of some commercial processing plant. Finally, I'm so happy that when I'm at home, I get to buy most of my food from the people who grow it or people who are just passionate about food, to talk with them about it and maybe get a recipe tip or something, instead of grabbing my food off a supermarket shelf.

3. Weather.

Well, obviously. I've talked about this plenty on this blog. But how lucky am I to come from a place without sub-zero temperatures? Not to mention the beautiful ocean that makes the climate so temperate around San Francisco. I will be taking every opportunity to get outside and enjoy that sun when I'm back home.

Snow

 

 Well, maybe just frost. But still.

More sunny Oxford days

We've been blessed with a few more glorious summer days, so I took tried to spend most of the last two days outside. And just as one of the best things about rainy days is sitting in a cozy armchair and reading a novel, one of the best things about sunny days, I think, is lying in the grass and reading a novel. So out I set, first to the bookstore:

On the way, I admired this cool wall/poster thing they set up outside the construction site of the new Bodleian library extension. It showcases very awesome stuff they have in their collection:

Then I bought a new book, whose cover alone has been catching my eye in various bookstores for months. Spoiler alert: it's quite good so far.

Then I wandered around Oxford a little, threading through clumps of tourists and wedding parties, and photographed a few little details that caught my eye as I went:

 Brain-coral columns and four types of pavement.

 A lovely door that won't let me in to a lovely college (note chain holding it almost shut).

  Puppy and lion gargoyles.

 Oh, what's that? Just a sign announcing the presence of a film crew shooting scenes for the final season of Lewis, the Oxford mystery show. I saw the actual shooting a few weeks ago, stars and all. This time just the sign. 

Finally I arrived at the park, picked a nice tree, settled down under it and opened my new book. There was a tennis tournament happening across the lawn, a smattering of tennis players in white, the comforting thunk of tennis balls meeting rackets, a white marquis tent, and an old-fashioned jazz band playing just loud enough that the strains of music wafted over to where I was sitting. All sorts of people were out and about, playing pick-up soccer, having picnics, taking naps on the grass. The sun was warm, the breeze cool. Perfect bliss. It must be said for cities (despite the bustle, or maybe because of it) that their parks can be really absolutely wonderful.

10 Things I Like About This Trip

Here I am with another list. Since I've been feeling kind of nervous about my upcoming trip, I thought I'd make a little list of things I'm looking forward to.

1. Great theater. I just read today about a new season of plays being put on by the Michael Grandage Company in London, which include a Martin McDonagh play ("Cripple of Inishmaan") starring Daniel Radcliffe and a new play about Alice Liddell Hargreaves and Peter Llewelyn Davies starring Judi Dench and Ben Wishaw, about which my feelings can be summed up by alksjdfldkjfpsodiflk, more or less. In addition to that, I've already got tickets to see some amazing shows in Oxford, London, and Edinburgh.

2. Fish & chips. I like them a lot.

3. Taking pictures. It's been a while since I really played around with a camera, but I'm sure I'll have mine out a lot over the next few months.

4. Living out of a suitcase. This may sound a bit odd, but I'm actually looking forward to it because I've spent the summer surrounded by my collected stuff, as I said in my last post, and I'm very ready to live a lean life now. I keep paring down my packing list, trying to pack very light, or as light as I can for a year-long trip.

5. Reading. I've done a fair bit of reading this summer, given my usual (very slow) rate, but in the last few weeks I've fallen off a bit. I've also realized how much fun it is to read in a group, and so I'm very much looking forward to being in literature classes again.

6. Making new friends. Don't get me wrong, I do love my old friends, very dearly indeed. But there's a particular joy in making new friends, no matter who they are. I believe it's Mary Crawford in Mansfield Park (correct me if I'm wrong) who bemoans the particular pain of parting with new acquaintances because there is still so much to know about them and learn from them. I find there's a particular pleasure that's the flip side of that pain. And what better way to find that than to move somewhere I've never been and where I know no one!

7. Having lots to write about on this blog. I do love blogging, but sometimes it feels like I'm scrambling for interesting thoughts. In that vein, I also find my creative mind is very fertile while traveling, so I'm looking forward to indulging that part of myself and taking some time to write.

8. Traveling to Germany for the first time. After studying German language and literature for five years, I'm very excited to actually go there and try out my chops. To add to the fun, I'm going there to attend a wedding, which will be the second wedding I've ever been to, and the first where I wasn't employed in some capacity. I also know no one else who will be attending except my sister, who I'm going with (I've never met the bride or the groom :)), so I have no expectations except good ones.

9. Wearing my winter clothes again. San Francisco summer notwithstanding, I've been living in shorts for a while now, and while I'll miss it very much indeed, I'm also looking forward to pulling on my beautiful winter coat again.

10. Getting to the other side of the scary moment of transition and sinking into the fun and wonder of the actual trip.

Surrounded by Books

I saw this picture this morning on Tumblr, thought, Wouldn't it be nice to spend my days surrounded by that many books? And lo, I proceeded to spend the day perched on my bed, surrounded by about that many library books. It's thesis bibliography day!


Although my back is now stiff from bending over so many books, it's been a lovely three-and-a-half hours of flipping through pages, skimming the fine print to find out exactly when each book was originally published and where.

I also noticed (really noticed, that is), how lovely it is that books are printed in all different shapes and sizes and with different weights of paper, cut in different ways. DVDs and CDs and especially computer screens are so horribly uniform and cold - they've got no smell, no texture, no weight. I think even more than reading books, I like handling them and learning to recognize them by their covers and their unique shape.

I just don't understand Kindle.

Now I need to go put all my books back on my bookshelf.


Photo: http://scarlettshaney.tumblr.com/post/11584628886