Just ♥ Words (tutu)

English—what a great language to have fun with!  Below are several homophones, words that sound alike but have different meanings and often spellings.  (I know, I’ve taken a few liberties.)


Don’t You Just ♥ Words?

to  |  too |  tutu  |  two

She went a tutu too far—wearing
two too many tutus to twirl.

Translation:
Her multiple dance skirts prevented her from dancing well.

Really, this is what I do for a living.  Too too much.  Anyway, hope you’ll join in the fun.  These are mine.  Can you find others . . . or come up with your own.  It’s good exercise for the brain—honest.

I Have a Kindle!!!

Let me tell you how easy it is to get over your attachment to books—the kind with paper pages?  Once you hold this gorgeous book-machine (yes, machine) in your hand, you won’t want to let go.  Ever.

It’s surprisingly easy on the eye—so you can read for hours, even even bump up the type size.  It’s easy to flip from page to page and back again.  You can bookmark pages, highlight passages, even make notes!  You’re automatically connected to Amazon, so with a click of a button, you buy your books—and they’re downloaded within a minute.  Ooooooooh… I’m in love!

But dear librarians, here’s the question:  what will you do?  If our books become electronic, what’s the future for libraries?  I know librarians all over the country are asking this very question—I read your blogs.  (Boy, do you guys blog!)  And what will become of bricks-and-mortar book stores? 

Oh, how did I get my Kindle?  They’re not cheap.  Well, my dear friend Lynne presented it to me as a gift!  Give her a call.  Maybe she’ll take a liking to you and get you one, too.  Here’s her number: 202-555-1234.  Good luck.

Men’s Book Clubs—on the brink of extinction?

Cheap shot, that title.  I suspect there are a healthy number male book clubs* — in fact I read about one just recently. 

The Second Monday Men’s Book Group in Melbourne, Florida, is featured in the Nov-Dec ‘08 issue of Bookmarks magazine.  Funny story. . . before they formed their group, they thought they’d see if they could join one of their wives’ book clubs.  Here’s what happened:

We brought it up.  They shot it down.  We’d change their dynamics by merely being present—and what would happen if we opened our mouths?

Which brings to mind a joke: If a man speaks alone in the forest—or a book club—is he still wrong?  Apparently.  Anyway, the guys decided to form their own club, now numbering around 7.

In an earlier post, I wondered what kind of books men read.  Well here’s how the Second Monday group weighs in:

Nonfiction

Tuxedo Park (radar)  |  Cadillac Desert (dam-building)  |  Soul of a New Machine (computers)  |  Jungle (meat packing)  |  Washington’s Crossing (history)  |  American Theocracy (politics)  |  Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman (physicist’s memoir)  |  Everglades, River of Grass (history)  |  West With the Night (female aviator’s memoir)  |  Why Americans Hate Politics (politics).  

Fiction

Amsterdam by Ian McEwan  |  Saturday by McEwan  |  Master and Commander by Patrick O’Brien  |  My Antonia by Willa Cather  |  Foundation by Isaac Asimov (sci-fi)  |  Maltese Falcom by Dashiell Hammett  |  Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler  |  Yiddish Policemen’s Union by Michael Chabon  |  Suite Francaise by Irene Nemirovsky  |  The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini.

Observations? 

  1. Heavy on non-fiction—50%.  That’s probably more than most female or co-ed clubs.
  2. Preponderance of male writers—80%.  Only 2 female authors in nonfiction (Everglades and West With the Night ) and 2 in fiction (Cather and Nemirovsky).
  3. The fiction choices are somewhat similar to those female clubs, adding some sci-fi (Asimov) and action-adventure as historical fiction (O’Brien).  

Question:  Is this a typical list for men’s book clubs—with 50% of the books nonfiction and 80% of the writers male?

See an earlier blog post on men and book clubs.

Ideas?  Comments?

My Cousin Pru’s Advice—on audio books

Nobody knows book clubs like my Cousin Pru—she’s joined dozens and dozens over the years and is always on the lookout for a new one to take her in.

Pru begged me to let her use this blog as a way to share some of the many requests she receives for book club advice.  (How could I say no?)  Here are some recent exchanges:

—Letter—

Dear Pru,

What do you think about listening to books on CD or tape?

Truly,
Easy Listenin’ in East Lansing 

 

—Reply—

 

Dear Truly Easy,

Wasn’t there something about audio books and brain cancer?  No, wait, it’s cell phones . . . or maybe flouide toothpaste?  I can’t remember. 

Still, I wouldn’t listen to anything over 2 hours—which means you won’t be listening to “War and Peace” (yeah, right).  But you could probably get away with something by Deepak Chopra.

Truthfully, though, I’m not the best person to ask. I won’t even use a microwave . . .  certainly not an electric hair curler.

Hope this helps.

Happy Clubbing,
Pru Prudenza

Audio Books—as good as reading?

Question:  Can you really say you’ve “read” a book when you’ve listened to it?   Does listenting count as “reading”—and does it work for a book club discussion?

Answer:  Well, at least we get through the book!  In a busy life, that counts for something.

On the other hand. . .we’re usually multi-tasking when listening, which means the book doesn’t have our full attention.  Second, we read at our own pace:  pausing to rethink a passage, or re-read a section, or jot down a note.  Hard to do with audio.  Third, in a book discussion, it’s easy for everyone to turn to a particular passage on a particular page.  Not so easy with audio.

Two other considerations:  purists say a narrator’s voice can unfairly influence how we experience a work.  And, finally, it turns out that we remember more by reading than by listening.  That’s especially true for adults and older students (though the research isn’t definitive).

So not being a purist, my advice is to enjoy audio books whenever you feel like it—but read the printed version when it comes to your book club selection.  (See LitLovers’ How to Participate in a Book Discussion.)  

Any thoughts?

Learn a Little Lit — symbols (roses and such)

When is a rose not a rose?  When it’s a symbol. 

Which brings up a question:  do authors create literary symbols on purpose?  Or are symbols just something English teachers invent to torment students.  Could be . . . but here’s a little story.

—Little Story —

I once wrote a poem for my English class about the beauty of a single rose.  Understand when I tell you it was. . .insipid. 

But the teacher singled it out as a fine example of symbolism:  the beauty of the single rose was how she viewed her students—in the collective we had little distinction, but individually we attained a singular beauty.  Friends, I’d written a masterpiece. . .and I hadn’t a clue.

My grand inspiration had come from a cheap plastic rose stuck in my pencil holder, and I just happened to hit on the thing as my eye wandered around the room.  The beauty of individualism wasn’t anywhere on the radar.

But here’s what author William J. Kennedy (Ironweed, 1983) has to say. He writes that the source of a writer’s creativity doesn’t. . .

rise up from his notepad but up from the deepest part of his unconscious, which knows everything everywhere and always:  that secret archive stored in the soul at birth, enhanced by every moment of life….

—William Kennedy, “Why It Took So Long,” New York Times, 5/20/1990 

Writing is a mysterious process, and symbols often spring from the unconscious, reflecting something embedded within an author’s psyche.  

In other words, that single rose of mine could just as easily have seemed lonely and forlorn.  Or I might have written that its fragrance would gain potency as part of a bouquet.  But it turns out I enjoy being alone or with friends one-on-one.  And I avoid large groups.  So perhaps even as a teen that rose had special resonance.

So, no, authors don’t always devise their symbols; symbols often reflect something deep within.  And readers?  Our own insights into a work spring up from deep within us, as well. 

If you want to learn more about symbolism—why authors use them, how they contribute to a work of fiction—take our LitCourse 9.  It’s short, free, and a lot of fun.

Daughters, Daughters Everywhere—how very curious.

A little fun:  have you noticed—pretty hard not to—all the books entitled Somebody’s Daughter?  Recognize any of these?  

 

The Abortionist’s Daughter             The Memory Keeper’s Daughter
The Bonesetter’s Daughter            The Optimist’s Daughter
The Courtesan’s Daughter             The Pirate’s Daughter
Galileo’s Daughter                           Vermeer’s Daughter

Just how many daughterly titles are out there?  Turns out, about 360—titles like “Somebody’s Daughter” or “Daughter(s) of the Something-or-Other.”  Here’s the full list.

So why this fixation on female offspring—a marketing scheme to appeal to women?  But one title is nearly 200 years old.  It also turns out that Balzac, Dumas, Hawthorne, D.H. Lawrence, Orwell, Walter Scott, and Zola were in on it, too. Did they even have marketing firms back then?

D.H. Lawrence’s short story, “The Horse Dealer’s Daughter,” suggests the young woman of the title inherited her father’s personality and will dominate her fiance as her father did his horses—a title that suggests Lawrence’s belief in familial determinism.   (See LitCourse 9.) 

Okay, one down, but that leaves 359 titles unexplained.  Any theories?

Brideshead Revisited…and revisited and revisited

I revisited Brideshead again last week—rereading the book after 25 years—because something about the newest film doesn’t sit right. 

There’s also the 1981 version with Jeremy Irons, the sumputuous mini-series that clocks in at 11 hours.  Why remake a perfectly fine wheel?  Well, after my marathon reread, I’m even more curious.

I actually like the new 2008 version, primarily because of the performances.  They’re terrific!  But the two-hour format distorts the storyline and the work’s ultimate meaning. 

The biggest problem is the timing of Julia and Charles’s love affair.  In the book,  the two don’t fall in love until they meet onboard the ship—10 years after they first met at Brideshead.  The new film has them fall in love early on—at Brideshead.  It’s a serious misreading because it leads to the premise that Sebastian’s unrequited love for Charles is what sucks him into a self-destructive vortex.  His decline is far more complicated—and goes to the heart of the book.

The story appears, on the surface at least, to be critical of religion, certainly Catholicism.  But the book’s chapter titles provide a real tip-off:  “Et In Arcadia Ego” and “The Twitch Upon the Thread.”  The novel has to do with the operation of divine grace in the world: 

an invisible line which is long enough to let [ the unrepentant ] wander to the ends of the world and still bring him back with a twitch upon the thread.  

Willful disobedience gets both Charles and Sebastian thrown out of Arcadia—the paradise / Eden that was Brideshead during the summer of 1923.  Only after suffering and disillusionment do the two feel the “twitch upon the thread”—even Charles, at the novel’s end, though it’s unclear whether he’s actually reeled in. 

For Book Clubs
Why not revisit Brideshead by reading Waugh…then seeing the 2008 film version?  Or for real die-hards watch the 11-hour 1981 version!  Choose a weekend—and pack a sleeping bag and pillow!  Invite me, too.

Just ♥ Words (slough)

Slough—a great word, and one that’s kept me running to the dictionary over the years. The problem is, it has 4 different pronunciations . . . along with 6 different meanings, and I can never keep them straight.  Slough is the perfect example of a heteronym.


Don’t You Just ♥ Words?


Slough
— when it sounds . . .

—like slow,
is a morass or swamp or . . .
despair (as in Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress)

—like slew,
is a sluice or drainage ditch

—like Sl-how . . . (or slouch, minus ch)
is a town near Liverpool, England

—like sluff,
is a skin (as in snake)
and a verb: to discard, throw off

Okay, see how quickly you can get through this:

He decided, that poor snake, in a slough of despond
to slough off his slough in the slough
near the slough outside Slough.

Here’s what it sounds like…

He decided, that poor snake, in a slow of despond
to sluff off his sluff in the slew
near the slow outside Sl-how.

This is how I spend my days.  So how do you spend yours?  Got any cool words?  Please join in the fun by leaving us a comment.

LitLovers Book Recommendations—Oct. ‘08

LitPicks
This month’s theme—Quiet Intimacy—features works that speak to us softly and that care more about characters and relationships than plot.

A Lighter Style
Gilead by Marilyn Robinson
An older father writes a series on-going letters about his life, work, and faith to his very young son.
See full review . . .
 

Wonderfully Written
Matrimony
by Joshua Henkin
Four college students pursue their lives, loves and careers over a period of 15 years.
See full review . . .
 

Great Works
To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf
Family and guests gather at a ramshackle house on the Isle of Skye—and return 10 years later to visit the lighthouse.
See full reveiw . . .

Read any of these?  Would love to read your opinion.