THINGS THAT SCARE ME

In honor of Halloween, off the top of my head, here are the scariest things I have read:

1. The Dollhouse Murders, by Betty Ren Wright: A kids’ book in which dollhouse dolls come alive and reenact a murder; I still get goosebumps thinking of it.
2. Behind the Attic Wall, by Sylvia Cassedy: Another kids’ book in which dolls come alive; according to the Amazon reviews, these dolls are friendly and benevolent and help a young girl to find the love and security her family can’t give her, but all I remember is feeling terror at the concept. I mean, even the title is creepy-sounding.
3. “The Lottery,” by Shirley Jackson: Scariest short story ever.
4. The Handmaid’s Tale, by Margaret Atwood: For obvious reasons, competes with 28 Days Later for worst-nightmare dystopia.
5. “All My Darling Daughters,” by Connie Willis: I love Connie Willis, but can’t recommend this highly, highly disturbing feminist short story that manages to include both animal abuse—which I particularly hate to read about—and sexual abuse; all the ickiness has a purpose and it’s well-written and thought-provoking, but I nearly became physically ill while reading it.

MONEY, A MEMOIR

Money, a Memoir: Women, Emotions, and Cash, by Liz Perle: Everyone should read this book, even especially if they have no interest in finances. I have no interest in finances, and I was fascinated. The material might not be completely groundbreaking, but again, I hadn’t given any of it much thought before. Perle combines memoir, anecdotes, and expert opinions to discuss women’s fucked-up relationships with money—how we aren’t raised to be fully financially responsible, how it’s considered impolite to talk about money, how we are still conditioned to believe that something in our lives will come along and rescue us and take care of us (maybe not necessarily Prince Charming anymore, but at least parents or a job or a stroke of good fortune), and how all of this leads us to imbue money with so many emotions—shame, desire, safety and security, love—that we make poor financial decisions or simply check out of our financial lives entirely, and we let it affect our relationships with parents and children and spouses.

I did recognize myself in this; even though I’m financially independent and my money is in relatively good shape (savings, a few investments, no debt), I hate thinking about or dealing with my finances, and usually try to pretend they don’t exist beyond paying the bills and balancing my checkbook each month. A and I have totally separate finances and simply split the basic household bills (rent, electric, phone) down the middle, but I make significantly more money and do pay for our food, some household items, most of the cats’ necessities, and the majority of evenings out. This doesn’t bother me, but it was interesting to think a little harder about my probable future as the breadwinner and how that ties into my feelings about money.

NIGHTS AT THE CIRCUS

I’m about 60 pages into Book 10, Nights at the Circus, by Angela Carter.

Why I own this book: This was a late entrant into the Project; coworker D gave it to me upon discovering that he had two copies. I thought it only fair that I should add another book to the list, seeing as I had copped out on Women in Love after 71 pages. I read a fair amount of Carter in high school and own The Bloody Chamber and Wise Children, so I was happy to read another of her books. Nights at the Circus is basically about a woman with wings (is she a real freak or a fake?) and, like other Carter books, is both rollicking and grotesque. Carter occasionally turns me off with her over-the-topness, but mostly the book is interesting and fun so far.

ETHAN FROME

Book 9 is Ethan Frome, by Edith Wharton.

Why I own this book: I acquired a nice hardcover castoff copy from my dad.

Why I hadn’t read it: What I knew of the plot (mainly from watching bits and pieces of the Masterpiece Theater adaptation starring Liam Neeson years ago) didn’t appeal to me much. It seemed slight, and different from Wharton’s other books.

Why I still own it: I love The Age of Innocence and The House of Mirth.

And the verdict? Wow. It may be a short book, practically a novella, but man, is it well-written—efficient, economical, and depressing as all hell. The introduction in the copy I read talked about how ironic it is that Wharton’s least representative work should have become her most famous (apparently she herself didn’t think much of Ethan Frome), but I can sure see where it gets its rep.

THE READING PROJECT, PHASE 1

With only two books left in The Reading Project (well ahead of schedule—I’d given myself a whole year), I’m already looking around for a new list of books to assign myself. It’s so silly to give oneself homework, but as someone who loves a good to-do list, I’ve realized I have to play to my strengths. If this motivates me to read a bunch of books I never would have otherwise gotten around to reading, then so be it. I have really enjoyed the Project so far. The English major in me is fulfilled to be reading “classics” again, and the bookworm in me is thrilled that most of the books I’ve read have been highly entertaining.

So I thought I’d make a handy little reference list I can update as I complete things...

THE GOAL: To read all the novels I own but haven't read before.

1. Felix Holt: The Radical, by George Eliot**
2. Peace Like a River, by Leif Enger****
3. Love Medicine, by Louise Erdrich**
4. Tender Is the Night, by F. Scott Fitzgerald***
5. A Passage to India, by E.M. Forster***
6. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, by Ken Kesey****
7. Women in Love, by D.H. Lawrence*
8. Pnin, by Vladimir Nabokov****
9. Ethan Frome, by Edith Wharton***
10. Nights at the Circus, by Angela Carter**
11. The Mill on the Floss, by George Eliot***

* = Didn’t like, didn’t finish
** = OK, but wouldn’t reread
*** = Liked it
**** = Loved it
() = not yet read

I’m contemplating several options for Phase 2 of the Project. Once I finish Mill, I’ll be done with the initial list I set for myself, but I won’t technically have read every work of fiction that I own, because I didn’t include anthologies and omnibuses in the first go-round. There are 13 more unread books that are part of larger books on my shelves, and they’re likely candidates for my next Project. Or perhaps I should take a break from fiction and read all the unread nonfiction books I own? Another thing I’d like to do is to read more, or perhaps the complete works, by writers I’ve liked in the past. For instance, I’ve read every Austen book (even the unfinished novel, Sanditon) except Mansfield Park. And now, after the Project, I’ve read four of George Eliot’s novels—should I read the rest? I like the idea of getting really deeply into one writer’s body of work for a while. So, anyway, I’ll keep you posted on next steps. Most likely, in the meantime, I’ll spend some time goofing off with fluffy library books before embarking on a new phase of the Project.

PNIN

After the shameful failure to finish Reading Project Book 7, I’ve moved right on to Book 8, Pnin, by Vladimir Nabokov.

Why I own this book: L gave it to me for Christmas in 2000.

Why I haven’t read it: If you can believe it, I haven’t read anything by Nabokov, and, again, wasn’t sure I’d like him.

Why I still own it: Gift! With a sweet note inscribed by L on the title page that says, in part, “This is a good book. Read it. I have programmed it to self-destruct at 12-25-01, so get a move on.”

The verdict: Although I did not take L’s advice, I was lucky it didn’t self-destruct, because I really love this book! Although not very much happens (it’s basically just a character study, with a little academic satire and reflections on the immigrant experience), Nabokov’s painstakingly detailed style is a treat to read. I definitely plan to read more by him (perhaps next year’s Project will be to read the further works of authors I have enjoyed in the past?). Maybe Pale Fire, because I’ve heard Pnin has a cameo in it, hee.

WOMEN IN LOVE

I embarked on Book 7 of the Project, Women in Love by D.H. Lawrence, a few weeks ago. (Somehow I completely neglected to write about Book 6, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey, but a belated thumbs up—it was hard to get into, but I found myself intensely involved in the second half and very moved by the ending.)

Why I own this book: L gave it to me, many years ago.

Why I haven’t read it: Have never read anything by Lawrence, wasn’t sure I’d like him.

Why I still own it: Well, it was a gift, and L said she liked it...

But the verdict is that this book and I, we didn’t get along. I tried, I really did, but the characters seemed to have no personality, everyone made long, dull speeches about abstract ideas, and the writing style was overwrought. I have a hard time with books that seem to have no particular details. I followed the Nancy Pearl Life’s Too Short Rule (subtract your age from 100, and that is the number of pages you need to read before you quit a book), got to page 71, and shut the book. I think I’ll give it to Goodwill. (Sorry, L.) It felt like a failure for the Project, until I remembered that the whole point of the endeavor is to make sure I only own books I like. Now I know I don’t like Women in Love. I’m willing to believe things really get grooving around page 110, and maybe I’d like a different Lawrence book someday, but for now I’m not looking back.

PERFECTION SALAD

I’m taking a break from the Project to read a great nonfiction book called Perfection Salad: Women and Cooking at the Turn of the Century, by Laura Shapiro, a dense but slyly amusing look at the food science movement (to quote the jacket cover because I’m too lazy to think for myself) “that placed fruit salad with marshmallows at the heart of our national cuisine and made American cheese into a staple widely appreciated for its uniformity, sterility, and blandness.” It’s crazy to realize there was a time when food quality, hygiene, and the purity and consistency of ingredients were all so poor that people applauded the advent of mass-marketed food and believed that canned vegetables (so clean and modern and scientific!) were superior to fresh ones. And now foodies today are taking everything in the absolute opposite direction—locally grown, organic, heirloom ingredients; home-cooked comfort food; fusions of different styles and cultures. Thank god, because most of that turn-of-the-century “modern” food sounds revolting. Boiled chicken on a bed of popcorn smothered in white sauce, anyone?

By far my favorite part of the book is the discussion of the period’s attempts to study nutrition and digestion. I’m a sucker for crazy moments in the history of science and found this one irresistible:

...a famous series of experiments performed in the 1820s by an American army surgeon named Beaumont who was lucky enough to come across an 18-year-old Canadian wounded in a shooting accident. The young man’s stomach had been perforated, and the wound left a permanent opening. This inspired Dr. Beaumont to investigate exactly what happened during normal digestion…. By tying a piece of meat to a string and suspending it inside the stomach, Dr. Beaumont was able to mark the rate at which digestive juices did their work.

I read this passage to A on the airplane coming back from DC and I think he turned a little green.

A PASSAGE TO INDIA

Book 5 on my list is A Passage to India by E.M. Forster. Yes, I had never read A Passage to India. I love Forster, have read all of his other novels multiple times and seen their film adaptations, have adored the movie of A Room With a View since middle school, wrote a college paper about Howards End and a mini-honors thesis comparing Howards End and Maurice, intensively studied the Bloomsbury Group and wrote my honors thesis proper on Virginia Woolf, but hadn’t read the most famous and acclaimed Forster novel.

Why I own this book: Obviously, I always meant to read it.

Why I hadn’t read it: No good reason. I saw the movie when I was perhaps too young to fully understand it (during the early days of my Room With a View obsession), and remember finding it boring and confusing.

The verdict: I’d really been looking forward to this book as the high point of the Project, but I do have to admit I had a hard time getting into the first 30 pages. Mostly that’s just because I didn’t have much uninterrupted reading time with it, but also I found the blatant racism of the British characters toward the Indian characters very off-putting. Even though I realize that’s the point of the book, it’s a bit hard to sit through without wanting to punch those damn colonial oppressors. But even though I struggled with it, in the end it was a damn fine book. I think Forster is just so relentless about capturing the weaknesses of human nature, so unflinching in portraying his characters’ flaws, that I found it difficult to really like any of them, and for me it’s hard to enjoy a book if I don’t like any of the people I’m reading about. I ended up either annoyed by them or embarrassed for them. It was masterfully done, and I adore how Forster manages to capture the delicate fumbliness of people trying to connect across vast cultural rifts, but still, that shit is harsh.

TENDER IS THE NIGHT

Book 4 of the Project is Tender Is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Why I own this book: It’s a discarded Dakota County Library copy I picked up for 50 cents at one of their sales in high school or college.

Why I haven’t read it: As usual, laziness.

Why I kept it: Well, it’s hardcover, though the spine is a bit fractured. And I’ve read The Great Gatsby and The Beautiful and Damned and liked them. And also—hey, that makes three Minnesota-born writers in a row! Anyway, the book is good so far, sweet and sad, though written in an oblique way that sometimes makes me worry I don’t understand what’s really happening. Still, just when I’m starting to feel confused, F. Scott hits me in the gut with a his ability to sum up huge, true feelings in one clear and perfectly formed phrase, like “In the dead white hours in Zurich staring into a stranger’s pantry across the upshine of a street-lamp, he used to think that he wanted to be good, he wanted to be kind, he wanted to be brave and wise, but it was all pretty difficult. He wanted to be loved, too, if he could fit it in.”