elkit in wonderland

Dance Me To The End of Love (23/52)

I forget why I picked up Graham Greene's "End of the Affair" again. I like how he explores our struggles with faith and honor, but most of all, of course, he's just such a melodious writer. Listen to what narrator Maurice Bendrix says about his ended love affair with Sarah Miles (the "hand in hand, like idiots without a keeper" has stuck in my head since I read it three weeks ago):

"Is this the end, I wondered, play-acting to myself? There's no need to ever go back. If I can get her out of my system, can't I find somewhere a quiet friendly marriage that would go on and on? Then perhaps I wouldn't feel jealous because I wouldn't love enough: I would just be secure, and my self-pity and hatred walked hand in hand across the darkening Common like idiots without a keeper."

I think I should add more Greenes to my diet for the rest of the year. There's the big omnibus at the top of my shelf, and I don't think I ever finished reading Brighton Rock.

On The Road To Find Out (21, 22/52)

Still on an Elmore Leonard roll, preparing for his new novel, Road Dogs. After finishing Riding the Rap, it was on to LaBrava and Cat Chaser. (Road Dogs puts a character from LaBrava in the center of the Road Dogs story.) I didn't remember how LaBrava ended from reading it three years ago, so I got myself another copy cheaply through paperbackswap.com for a re-read. And Cat Chaser just because it was also available, and I really liked the audiobook when I listened to that a couple of years ago.

So I read LaBrava, paying special attention to Cundo Rey, because he's the guy who will reappear in Road Dogs - only he ends up dead at the end of LaBrava. Ooooooh. Kaaaaaay. Let's see how Leonard will resolve that in the subsequent story. He's a smart writer; I'm sure he'll make it worth my while.

Anyway, I had a good time with both of these, and feel well prepared for the Road Dogs now. Take me there!

A Long Long Way To Happy (20/52)

Re-read this one for the third or fourth time: The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith, or as my old copy says, by Claire Morgan. Highsmith published this under a different name, because it's a love story between two women, and shockingly has a happy ending - keep in mind this was published in the early Fifties, 1952 if amazon.com is correct.

Almost Paradise (17, 18, 19/52)

Elmore Leonard has a new novel out, Road Dogs. I've been reading other Leonards as preparation for it - one of the protagonists in Road Dogs first appears in Riding the Rap, and Riding the Rap is the sequel to Pronto, and the guy who had those two books listed on paperbackswap.com also had another Leonard called Mr. Paradise, so I ordered and breezed through that too. I'm in a Leonard mood. I could read ten more. And maybe I should - I'm behind on my reading. It's almost midpoint of the year, where I ought to clock in at 26 books. I am not sure I'll make that. Hrmpf.

The Dark Of My Moon (16/52)

I've read quite a few of Tony Hillerman novels, but I don't think I had read any that wasn't set in the Four Corners and the world of the Navajo Tribal Police. This one, Finding Moon, is set in 1975 South East Asia. Moon Mathias, a Colorado newspaper journalist, finds out that his brother Ricky, who ran a helicopter company in Cambodia, has died in a crash. Then his mother has a heart attack en route to Manila - turns out that Ricky had a baby daughter, and she was going to bring the child to the US. With her in the hospital, Moon travels to the Philippines, Vietnam, and Cambodia, just as the US are losing the war, and Pol Pot's Khmer Rouge are taking over Cambodia. It's not a murder mystery like most of Hillerman's other novels, but it's a very gripping story, and I kept thinking about it during the day, when I was away from the book. What would happen next? When did the Americans start evacuating? What date was the fall of Saigon? And of course they all thought the reports of the Khmer Rouge killings were exaggerated - it really was just too fantastical, a country killing off all their academics, city people and white collar workers. Great job, setting it all in context.

I Got Dreams, Dreams To Remember (15/52)

Barack Obama tells good stories, and asks good questions. in Dreams from my Father, he tells the story of his upbringing, his family, his roots in Kansas, Indonesia, Hawaii, and Kenya, of how his parents met and split up again, how he grew up in Indonesia with his mother and stepfather, and then in Hawaii with his maternal grandparents, and how he hardly knew his father. Really the quintessential pursuit of the American dream, when you think about it: his mother's parents moving away from Kansas to make a better life or themselves, his father doing the same, coming to Hawaii on his scholarship from Kenya, and Barack trying to figure out what it all means, where he fits, who he is, and what he is supposed to do with his life, and how to make it meaningful.

I keep thinking of the new Star Trek movie, where young Spock is told by his father, "You'll always be a child of two worlds. The question you face is: which part will you choose?" Made me want to shake my head and gnash my teeth. Such a terribly illogic way to frame this! Why would you have to choose just one, and discard the other? It's not an "either or" question! You can take the best of both, merge them, and make them into something new, whole, superior.

Obama seems to be pretty good at that.

Everything Means Less Than Zero (14/52)

I forget where I came up with Andrew Vachss, or who recommended his books. His prose is very very clipped - extra noir, in a manner of speaking. I gather that Down in the Zero is one in a long-running series, maybe the sixth or eighth or tenth. I enjoyed the writing, and found the characters interesting, but didn't care much for the plot or all the spanking. Not bad, it's just not for me.

We're Livin' In The Future, None Of This Has Happened Yet (13/52)

Philip K. Dick's Man in the High Castle presents an alternate history. I love those what-ifs! In this story, Germany and Japan have won World War II. The USA is broken up into three pieces - the East Coast is under German rule, the West Coast under Japanese rule, and the mountains and midwest are semi-independent. The majority of the story is set in San Francisco, which appealed to me very much. I think this is the first time I've read anything by Dick, and I really enjoyed his language. I liked the whole story - until I got to the end, which puzzled me. I still don't get it. Does that mean I didn't like it? No, not really, I did. Can I recommend it? I'm not sure. I guess you'll have to decide for yourselves.

Straight Into Darkness, Out Over The Line (12/52)

Awww, Elvis! I can't believe I'm through with you!

I finished "Chasing Darkness", the most recent entry in Robert Crais' Elvis Cole/Joe Pike series, and now I have to wait and find out what he'll publish next. Snivel.

I'm Not Looking For A New England

My friend Mary brought me a fine hostess gift when she visited from England recently: the Gordon Ramsay's Great British Pub Food cook book. She knows I love to cook, and I love linguistics.

This is fantastic on both counts. It's a fine cook book, but it still reads like a foreign language. Even though it's plain English.

The names of some of the dishes are fabulously mysterious, like enchantments and spells: "angels and devils on horseback", "pan haggerty", "Scotch woodcock" (huh?), "creamed haddock" (that's fish, right? right), "Welsh rabbit", which is not rabbit at all, but toasted bread with a flour-butter-cheese-beer mixture on top, and "cock-a-leekie soup".

The most mysterious name to me is "pig's liver faggots". The recipe starts with, "Faggots may not sound too appetizing, but as long as they're properly made, they are delicious and easy to prepare." The ingredients include liver and pork belly and breadcrumbs, as well as several spices and herbs. Reading through the instructions, it sounds like this will turn out like some kind of meatballs. Liver and pork belly meatballs. (Wikipedia concurs.) Faggots? I have never heard this word in a culinary context.

But my favorite mystery of all of them is this ingredient listed in the recipe for Cornish pasties:

"1/2 swede, about 400g"

A half Swede at less than a pound? That seems pretty small for a Scandinavian person. (My friend Mary said a swede is a kind of turnip. My friend the Wikipedia concurs: it's a rutabaga, or Steckrübe to my German brain.)