Hiatus for a couple of days!

Probably you notice that I haven't been at my blog lately. Or at my twitter / email. There is a reason. A HUGE reason.

I'm moving to Chile. That's right. All my family is from Chile but my parents moved to Venezuela and I was born here. I'm Venezuelan and Chilean.

So, I'm going to be living at Chile for a couple of months because I'm going to do my veterinary practice at an Animal's Hospital. :) Yeah, I just finished college!! Yay! (well, my classes. I still have to do my thesis).

I've been super busy these days getting ready for my trip. I'm very nervous and excited. Also happy and sad. It isn't the first time I'm going to Chile, or traveling alone, or being so many months away from my home. But I'm very sad about leaving my boyfriend.....I'm going to miss him very very much.

So, I'm taking a few days off to settle things when I arrive at my new home. I'm not sure if I'm going to have enough time for my blog, but I know I'll keep posting and visiting your blogs when I can. My TBR lists has grown out of control so I'm going to take this chance to read the books on my Kindle and I won't receive any more books for review. Maybe this way I can read some books that has been waiting for me forever, and finally write the reviews I keep forgetting to write.

Anyway, I hope you understand. This is very important to me, and I want to spend the last days with my boyfriend and family. This is an amazing opportunity for my future but I know I will miss them very much.

Thank you for reading! Be sure to come back here soon since I'm planning a giveaway!

The Skin Chairs

It's about time I paid heed to Virago Reading Week, which has been popping up all over the blogosphere this, er, week. Thanks Rachel and Carolyn! I love it when publishers are hailed in this manner - long-term SiaB readers may recall I ran an I Love Hesperus week many moons ago, and of course have enjoyed Persephone readalongs, and cheered from the sidelines for NYRB Classics. As luck would have it - it certainly wasn't my organisational ability - I happened to be halfway through a Virago when the week began, and even my current sluggish reading pace has allowed me to finish off The Skin Chairs by Barbara Comyns.


Props to Thomas (that's a good American expression, right? As is that 'right?' there.) for his Virago banner, by the way. If you think you recognise those pics, head over here for Thomas' competition.

It's no secret that I love Barbara Comyns - she's probably in my top five favourite authors, certainly top ten - and I'm fast reaching the end of her books. Just two novels to go... so I'm treasuring them as I go, and The Skin Chairs is no exception.

When I first started reading Comyns, I thought her novels were bizarrely different from one another, in terms of style. It's only now, looking back, that I realise I started off with the three most disparate I could have chosen - Our Spoons Came From Woolworths, Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead, and The Juniper Tree. Having read more of her books, I realise that she does have an identifiable tone - surreal but matter-of-fact; an unnerving but captivating mixture, and one which leads to a very unusual angle on events. As shown most effectively in The Vet's Daughter, but also on occasion in The Skin Chairs, even cruelties are dealt with in this unshockable, even tone. Here's an example:

When she had gone we let Esme's mice loose in the sitting-room, although they didn't seem to enjoy it much, keeping close to the skirting board most of the time. There used to be a girl in our village who was continually beaten by her parents and I remembered she used to walk like that, close to the walls.

Lest you think this is a miserable book, I must add the scolding given to children when they sit on some graves: 'Nanny found us and said that we had no respect for our bottoms or the dead.' There are plenty of laugh-aloud moments.

The Skin Chairs is told in the voice of ten-year-old Frances, one of six children, who must go and stay with her Great-Aunt's family: 'My mother[...] sometimes became tired of us and would dispatch us to any relation who would agree to have one or two of the family to stay.' Shortly after this, and having endured Aunt Lawrence's unwelcoming home, Frances' father dies and the rest of her family move to an unlikeable, small modern house. Relative poverty is a theme throughout Comyns' writing, and she relishes writing of their privations - nightdresses made out of old sheets; 'not being able to play with paint', and so forth.

As with other Comyns novels, not much happens. This one has a little more of a central thread through it than some, in terms of the family's destiny, but Comyns is best at her bizarre hangers-on. Chief amongst these is Mrs. Alexander, with her red-purple hair, turbans, mustard-coloured car, and golden shoes (repainted each evening by her chauffeur.) She keeps monkeys, and cleverly builds a wall after buying a piano, so that the bailiffs can't remove it when she goes into debt. Then there is young widow Vanda, who neglects her baby, but thinks she's doing a good job as the infant never goes short of orange juice. How Comyns thinks of all the tiny details, I can't imagine. So many are bizarre and wonderful - unexpected, but not dwelt upon - and always mentioned so calmly.

The first day at school was not so bad as I expected. The worst part was when most of the girls trooped off into the dining-room and we had to eat our sandwiches in one of the classrooms. The only other occupant was a particularly plain girl wearing a patch plaid blouse and eating a pork pie. She said she adored eating pork pies and ate them in her bath.

And those skin chairs of the title? Yes, they're human skin, and belong to a Major who lives in a large house in the village. They pop up near the beginning of the novel, and reappear every now and then - with some significance, but the true justification for the novel being called The Skin Chairs doesn't rest with that. I think they're the perfect symbol for what Comyns does best: the domestication of the surreal; the macabre passed over with matter-of-fact interest, and no more - there is probably a girl eating a pork pie close by, which will be equally involving.

If you haven't read any Comyns yet, I urge you to do so (The Skin Chairs is going for a penny on Amazon.) The more I read of her, the more I feel sure that she has been unjustly neglected - and is one of the most intriguing novelists of the twentieth-century.

Waiting on Wednesday # 35 - The Locket

"Waiting On" Wednesday is a weekly event, hosted at Breaking The Spine, that spotlights upcoming releases that we're eagerly anticipating.

My pick:

Summary from Goodreads.com

On her seventeenth birthday, Katie discovers a locket and decides to wear it for good luck. But when her boyfriend Isaac finds out she cheated on him— with their mutual best friend Mitch, no less—he dumps her, leaving her devastated.
And then a miracle happens. The locket burns on Katie's chest and she feels herself going back two weeks in time, to the night she cheated with Mitch. At first, Kate is delighted to be a better girlfriend to Isaac this time around. But as other aspects of her life become inexplicably altered, she realizes that changing the past may have had a dangerous effect on her present.
Can she make things right before the locket destroys everything—and everyone—she loves?

Stacey Jay

February 3rd 2011 by Razorbill

Paperback
Amazon / The Book Depository

Lovely cover, time traveling and a girl that looks a lot like Emma Watson?

Age Shall Not Wither Her...

I know I've used this post title recently, but it seems so appropriate for tonight's post that I'm using it again. And you know what it's like - you wait months for a sketch, and you get two at once. I know my little cartoons aren't the best in the world, but I've missed doing them and I think it adds something a little different to my blog - so I'll try and remember to do more!


Anyway - this post was inspired by something a friend asked me the other day about the book I was reading: how old was the author when he wrote it? And I realised that I almost never know the answer to that question - unless it's someone like Daisy Ashford. So, my question to you (let's put it in bold, eh?): when reading, do you think about where the book falls in the timeline of an author's work, and do you think about the author's age when writing?


I'd love to know your answers. The only author I can think I do this with is Barbara Comyns - because her novels fall into two very different periods, separated by twenty years. Other than that, I rarely know whether I'm reading an author's first, middle, or last novel - or whether they were 26 or 86 when they wrote it.

Over to you...

There is nothing like a...

I mentioned yesterday that I'd only finished one book in 2011, and that I'd be writing about it soon. Well, I've now finished two, and I'm going to write about the one I finished last night - because it's rather easier to write about than Howards End, which I feel I should Think About Properly.

No insult to Dame Judi Dench, but I don't feel I need to think so vigilantly about her book And Furthermore. (And, before I forget, thank you Becca for giving it to me for my birthday!) Well, we should be clear from the start - this is John Miller's book, written after (presumably lengthy) conversation with Dench. He wrote her biography, and has turned Dame J's anecdotes into book-form here. The brief diary she includes from her own pen, about attending the Oscars, reveals that she is no natural writer - but, then, she doesn't pretend to be. But she couldn't have picked a better man to write things down for her. One of the most amusing things about watching Miller and Dench in conversation back in 2004 was that he knew her life so much better than she did. Judi would refer vaguely to doing a play somewhere in the mid 'sixties, for example, and Miller would know the venue, year, date, cast... bizarre!

And Furthermore is, essentially, a collection of anecdotes. For those of us who have read Judi Dench: with a crack in her voice by John Miller, they aren't all new - but no matter. It covers Dench's acting career - primarily in the theatre - and only occasional mention is made of her private life, and her childhood is covered in a handful of pages. As a rule, a biography focuses on the career and an autobiography on the childhood - or so I have found - so it's nice to have an autobiography which looks mostly at the area which interests me most. Because it is Dench's decades of theatrical experience which captivate me - each play seems to come with its own amusing or intriguing incidents, and I love the atmosphere conveyed of being part of the company. It's a little secret of mine, but - were my talents different, and my life headed in a different direction - I'd love to be an actor. I can't act, and I'm not confident or energised enough, so this is no genuine ambition - but I love reading about repertory companies and imagining being in one. TV and film acting doesn't have the same appeal, in my eyes - it is the theatre that I love reading about.

And Dench doesn't hesitate to call theatre her first love. It is through other media that I have mostly seen her - I love or admire As Time Goes By, Cranford, Iris, Mrs. Henderson Presents, Notes on a Scandal, and so on and so forth - but I have had the privilege to see Judi once on stage, in All's Well That Ends Well. I think being alive while she is performing, and not seeing her, would be an absurd abuse of the possibility that future generations will envy. That's how I feel about Mrs. Patrick Campell, Margaret Rutherford, Peggy Ashcroft - none of whom, of course, I had the opportunity to see. And I am determined to see Maggie Smith on the stage, if she ever returns to it. Sorry, I'm getting distracted... What I intended to do was segue into this quotation:

I am so often asked, 'Does the audience make any difference?' Of course! It is the only reason you bother to be in the theatre, in order that tonight it can be better than last night, that you can crack something that you haven't yet, that this audience will be quieter, that this audience really will at the end think they have had a marvellous experience, and you have told the author's story. I always get that very depressed feeling at the end, and then miraculously a night's sleep somehow prepares you for doing it a step up the next day.

With any autobiography, it is the author's personality that comes across. This is mediated here, of course, by Miller - but I still think the reader can get a little closer to Judi Dench than in a biography. She is perhaps a little sharper than might be expected, a little keener to have control over performances - but what struck me most was her deep sensibilities for writing. The great actors are also, in a way, the great literary critics. True, they work only on the level of character - but what a deep understanding of character they must have. When Dench says that Hermione would think this, or Beatrice speak thus, or Portia behave in this way, I am impressed by the full and thorough life she can breathe into words on a page.

So - sometimes the anecdotes don't quite work; there are often punchline-statements which seem a little flat, but these are miniscule quibbles in a wonderful collection of stories and a unique set of experiences. Well, perhaps Dench's is not a unique perspective (except in the way that any would be) but hers is a highly unusual and significant vantage over more than six decades of the theatre. Even if I did not love Judi Dench - and of course I do - this would be an incredible record of the theatre by one who knows it about as intimately and broadly as anybody possibly could.

But - I shall let Dame Judi have the last word:

Actors are really remarkable people to be with. I love the company of other people, but I love the company of actors, and to be in a company. My idea of hell would be a one-woman show, I wouldn't be able to do that, I wouldn't know who to get ready for. The whole idea of a group of people coming together and working to one end somehow is very appealing to me. It is the thing I have always wanted to do, and I am lucky enough to be doing it. You don't need to retire as an actor, there are all those parts you can play lying in a bed, or in a wheelchair.

Review: The Iron Queen by Julie Kagawa

Title: The Iron Queen

Author: Julie Kagawa

Series: Iron Fey #3

Release Date: January 25th, 2011

Publisher: Harlequin Teen

Age: Young Adult

My name is Meghan Chase.

I thought it was over. That my time with the fey, the impossible choices I had to make, the sacrifices of those I loved, was behind me. But a storm is approaching, an army of Iron fey that will drag me back, kicking and screaming. Drag me away from the banished prince who's sworn to stand by my side. Drag me into the core of conflict so powerful, I'm not sure anyone can survive it.

This time, there will be no turning back.

The Iron Fey became easely my favorite series. It contains an intelligent heroine, a sexy Ice Prince, and cool fairies. The Iron Queen is the third book of this series, and I absolutely loved it.

Meghan and Ash are together in the "human world". Meghan is excited and scared to come back with her family, but she also knows how difficult it's for Ash to be here with her.

It's almost impossible for them to be there. Ash is very in love with Meghan but also feels sad about leaving his world. But just when Meghan is about to reunite with her family, they are thrown again into the fairies world.

I was looking forward for them to came back. I knew it was impossible for them to live the happily ever after with the humans and I was expecting more of the Iron Fey.

There was a war waiting for them at the Faeries world, and the Summer court and Winter court have made an agreement to fight together against the Iron. But they are loosing, and Meghan might be the only one to save them

I'm going to focus more on the characters before I give more spoilers. I have always been Team Ash (maybe I waver a little bit at The Iron Daughter) and of course I loved Ash and Meghan's relationship. Finally they could be together! But I was still missing Puck and I was happy to see him again.

Also, Meghan has become one of my favorite heroines. At first she was naive and sometimes too weak, but in this book I met a new Meghan, who grew up and was brave, smart and strong, and finally took the reins of her life.

I read this book fast, and I would have read it faster if I didn't have to study. The journey Meghan, Ash, Puck and even Grimalkin (I love you!! *fan mode*) had to made was epic. I knew it was difficult and someone was probably going to die. It was funny and sad, I laughed and cried, and I couldn't believe the ending (perfect but still unbelievable). Obviously I can't wait to read the next one, The Iron King, Ash's story.

Overall, it was amazing! I can possible express how awesome is Julie Kagawa's story, and if you haven't read this series, you should! You are going to love it.

More about this book at enterthefaeryworld.com, Goodreads, Amazon, The Book Depository.

More books...

As usual, I have a small stack of books waiting to be reviewied, including the only book I've actually managed to finish so far this year. It has been a rather lean January, for some reason - something of a reading slump. But not a buying slump, as this post will attest - I've been buying with abandon again.

The books fall broadly into old-and-characterful, and newish-and-colourful. Here goes:


Not very revealing, are they? I'll illuminate you - we have:

- Going Abroad by Rose Macaulay : which I found in a charity shop. I'm building up a nice stock of Macaulay novels to enjoy.

- Uneasy Money by P.G. Wodehouse : a cheap Wodehouse never hurts, does it?

- The Houses In Between by Howard Spring : an e-friend, Carol, is a big Spring fan, so I thought I'd give him a go. Any Spring readers out there?

- To Tell My Story by Irene Vanbrugh : I mentioned the other day that this theatrical autobiography was in the post to me. In my reading slump I find myself hankering after non-fiction rather more than fiction, so this might leap-frog all the novels waiting patiently by my bed.


And the more colourful books.

- Romantic Moderns by Alexandra Harris : was a 2010 title I wanted and waited for - I anticipate dipping in and out quite a bit.

- Tarr by Wyndham Lewis : is the next read for my book group, and kindly provided by the good people at Oxford University Press. Fantastic cover image.

- The Gingerbread Woman by Jennifer Johnston : is probably coming up soon for my other book group, depending on how the online vote goes, but this archive review of Kim's has made me want to read it.

- Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson : I still haven't read Gilead, but I thought I'd get this one in readiness, in case it launches me on an immediate Robinson rampage.

- The World I Live In by Helen Keller : a reader had requested this at the Bodleian, and it so intrigued me that I went and got a copy myself.