The Hobbit

This was my introduction to Tolkien, sometime in primary school. Wandering about the library, one of the student-librarians (Carolyn Stewart for those of you who would know her) suggested I try this. I'm not sure I made it past the first paragraph. I know I didn't make it past the first page. To this day, I still rather dislike the Hobbit.

I've read this book a few times and, like most things, familiarity is tending to make it more and more preferred. It's well-written, a good story, lots of fun and interesting. I'm a rereader. Thankfully I read fast enough that I can reread many books as well as reading many new books. I reread LotR once a year. I reread a fair amount of Enid Blyton and other favourites (Stephanie Plum, In Death, Cadfael Chronicles, etc) every year. Sometimes more often. This book, however, I reread about once every five years. For some reason I just don't enjoy it that much. There's no good reason for it, it's just one of those quirks. I suspect that at least part of my dislike stems from the fact that the narrative is weighted heavily towards the dwarves and Bilbo - the anthropologist in me wants more variety to study.

It's still a book to be recommended. It's just not one I particularly enjoy most of the time.
[On a side note, I had to sift through ten pages of google images to find a picture of the cover I have.]

The Elements of Style

You wouldn't think a style guide would make for good reading. I certainly didn't. But I picked it up, because it's essential for an editor. It's also a good read for anyone who likes to write, enjoys grammar or is studying English. It's made up of a bunch of rules to create forcible writing that is grammatically correct and is concise. I'm a fan of brevity. I don't enjoy either reading or writing waffly, repetitive, unnecessary work.

I enjoyed this, I don't know if you would.

The Lord of the Rings

It's that time of year again. For some reason my thoughts turn towards this book every year around Autumn. Rather like Frodo contemplating adventuring out of the Shire every Autumn. I imagine that LotR is my mental equivalent of comfort food, in somewhat the same way as Enid Blyton is. Also, as I said somewhere previously, I'm somewhat obsessional and my obsessions tend to be cyclical, so I go through a LotR phase every now and then.

My first experience of Tolkien was not a good one. Some years later I was told to read LotR by my Dad, and I did. I loved it. There were some bits that dragged (there still are, but I've read every word multiple times and have no issues with skipping entire chapters if I feel like it), but most of it was phenomenal. I love this book. Until the last few years, I lived at home and read my Dad's copy. Then I moved out. I had no LotR of my own. I was given a beautiful 50th Anniversary edition one year. It's gorgeous. I adore this book. The cover is soft, it has a little box, the edges of the pages are shiny gold, like in very old books and there's a little red ribbon to mark your place. The maps are fantastic, in black and red and there are some images in the book of the pages of the Book of Mazarbul (from the Chamber of Records in Moria). I also have a copy of Two Towers illustrated by Alan Lee. I'd like individual illustrated copies of Fellowship of the Ring and Return of the King as well (by John Howe, preferably, but I'll take Alan Lee as well) - this is a book I like to read in the bath and my single volume is too unwieldy and precious for that.

I like to watch the movies too, despite the many and varied objections I have to it (not the least of which is our missing 2nd half of the Two Towers Extended Edition). It's a fun romp through a book that tugs at the heart strings and evokes all manner of feeling. Also, it's pretty and quicker than reading the book. Of course, no sooner than I watch the movie (again) than I want to read the book (again), so they feed into themselves.

Tolkien's precision and profundity are two of the most enduring qualities of this work. The language is exquisite, the descriptions are evocative, the characters are real. This is a book that stays with me, always. The issues are real and - most importantly - applicable to each and every stage of a person's life. Also, I'd make a very good hobbit.

Journeying with God

Yay! I now average one post a day for the month of March! I don't know why I've been aiming at that, but I have. So now I have reached this milestone, I can't say I care that much.

This book (I'll put a picture up once I've found my battery charger, so that I can actually take a picture, since the internet only has ugly, fuzzy images), is not one I would normally buy or read. Nor, for that matter, would I take even a second look at it. I was attracted to it by the cover. So I picked it up and read the back of the book. I'm not even sure I got past the first line ('For many people the thought of a thirty-day silent retreat would be anathema...') before I decided to buy it. A silent retreat has always appealed to me, in quite the same way as the religious life appeals to me. I think it's the reclusive part of me, that would like to withdraw from society and just be left to her own devices (with a few certain necessaries, such as books and [now] Panda).

Anyway, this is the story of a priest (I think) who goes on this retreat after he breaks his leg. It's a wonderful account of the spiritual, mental and emotional growth that you can make on such a retreat, regardless of whether or not you choose to adopt a religious view of the matter. I do not, but I'd still love to go on a retreat (though I think I'd start with a day, then a weekend and slowly build my way up) to experience it.

How I Live Now

Daisy is sent from New York to live with relatives in England because her stepmother doesn't like her. Or something, that bit isn't important. What is important is how she interacts with these new-found relatives who live out in the country. Next thing you know, there's a war on and the only adult in the house is in a different country.

This is a story of survival in the face of horror, and tenacity. It's a story of how bonds are made and sustained. It's a 'young adult' book, which I usually take to mean children, along with things like Nancy Drew and the Twilight series (neither of which you'll find on my bookshelves, though I have read them). This is not a story I'd recommend for anyone under sixteen. It's a harsh, sometimes graphic description of the horrific reality of war and the effects that exposure to this can have on people - both individually and as a group.

It's a fantastic book, well-written and I heartily recommend it to adult readers.

In Death

Typing is a little difficult, after yesterday's adventure under the ground with the giant, evil porcupine. At least I can type, rather than pecking at the keyboard with one hand as I imagine poor Maretha will be forced to do (or try to do, depending on when the morphine wears off). I admit, emergency rooms are much more bearable when you're not the injured one. Also, it's easier to be philosophical.

This is not the point of this post, though. The point of this post is the In Death series by JD Robb (Nora Roberts). I love detective novels. For most of my childhood I dreamt of being a policeman, a detective, an FBI agent - whoever happened to have captured my fancy at the time. Given the arthritis, it would never have happened. Also, given my reaction to being surprised by a perfectly harmless porcupine (assuming, of course, one doesn't walk right into it), I don't think chasing down criminals is probably a smart thing for me to do. Presumably the training would help, but still. So I have a love of crime fiction, as well as crime non-fiction.

One of the things I love about this series is that despite featuring violent murder and other crimes in every book, the one set of covers features these beautifully peaceful images. A lovely dichotomy. The books are set in the future, though not too far, of New York. Eve Dallas is the injured, hard-nosed cop and Roarke is her criminally-inclined fantastically rich and perfect-in-all-ways lover/boyfriend/husband as the series progresses. It's fun, it's fluffy and there's a wonderfully familiar ring about it, despite the futuristic nature of just about everything.

Addition

This is a book for the obsessive-compulsive in all of us. There's no obsessive-compulsive in you? Weird. I'm somewhat obsessive, not very compulsive. Or, rather, I'm not clinically compulsive. Not the kind of compulsive that one thinks about when one hears the word 'compulsive'. I don't feel compelled to do things by some sort of bizarre or grandiose fear that the world is going to end of everyone I know is going to die (well, I do occasionally, but that's usually a compulsion to stay in bed). I'm compelled to fidget, constantly, though some people call that hyperactivity. I have some pretty bizarre mental processes that are required for me to do certain things. I like things to be symmetrical (or at least sensibly asymmetrical), in alphabetical order, in the correct colour order, in the order of size. But I don't have rituals. I'm not a hand-washer. And I don't count the way Grace Lisa Vandenburg does.

Sometimes, I'll count things, absent-mindedly (and sometimes very mindfully, like breaths in yoga), but I've never met anyone who counts things the way Grace Lisa Vandenburg does. She taught maths for a while, only she lost her job because she had a breakdown because things weren't just so. So now she lives on disability (the book was written by an Australian and is set there) and counts. And then she meets Seamus Joseph O'Reilly. Actually, she steals his banana (he didn't need it and she only had nine! Really, it wasn't so much stealing as saving the world from a fate worse than death) and they meet after that. Grace likes Seamus, Seamus likes Grace. Grace counts, Seamus thinks Grace would be better off not counting. And here we have a lovely story about what exactly constitutes mental health and who has the right to decide how a person is able to be their best. Also, it's a quirky romance that's well-written.

The Castle in the Forest

When I picked up this book, I thought it was a biography. It's certainly biographical in style, but it is nevertheless fiction. It didn't take long to establish that it was fiction once I started reading it, given the fact that it makes reference to a number of things that I simply do not believe in. A more credulous reader might actually have believed this to be a biography (though I find it difficult to imagine how anyone could believe some of the things written. Besides, if you actually read the back of the book, it says "blend of fact and fiction", so there really aren't any excuses).

As I've said, I'm interested in why people do the things they do. This book explores the nature of evil, in particular, the nature of evil as expressed in Adolf Hitler. I've read quite a bit about World War II, partly from a desire to understand why (and how) people do such awful things to other people, and partly because I had the most amazing high school history teacher in the world, Sue Harsant. She left me with an indiscriminate love of history and some of the most bizarre wit I've ever come across.

Anyway, this is a very interesting take on the 'evil' of Hitler. It's also one that I disagree with entirely. I do not believe that it is necessary to look any further than humanity, and society in particular, to find reasons for such behaviour. The idea that we must turn to external sources of evil is ridiculous. Particularly after reading The Anatomy of Villainy, despite that author's belief in an actual external source of evil. This is a book that will leave you with a number of uncomfortable thoughts and for that reason alone is worthy of recommendation (there are others, I just think that that's the most important and quite sufficient without all the other stuff about excellent writing and so on).

The Anatomy of Villainy

I'm not sure what button I pressed, but somehow I managed to publish this post after writing 'The' in the title field. Weird.

Another special find from CAFDA. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I'm always interested in books on why people do the things they do and criminals are particularly interesting. I disagree with many things that this author says. For a start, I disagree with his assumption that a purely Christian society would be idyllic. Once you realise that his stand-point is one of middle-of-the-road, fence-sitting Christianity, he makes some very interesting points. Of course, this was published in 1950, so we can't really expect him to meet our requirements for scientific rigour and so on.

This is an interesting book, with an interesting conclusion on what makes someone a 'villain' and why this societal construct endures. Favourite quote: "a monster who ate fried baby for breakfast".

With Friends Like These, Who Needs Enemies?

So, the other orphan book (though, really, I have loads of them, this is just the one I mentioned in the previous post). This is the first book in the series Three of a Kind by Marilyn Kaye. I'm going to have to photograph this book as well, since there's no cover for it anywhere on the internet.

It's a fun book about three very different orphans who do not get along at all. On the other hand, they live in an orphanage with, really, only each other. Each of them is given a chance to go and stay with a couple interested in adoption. Naturally each of them wants to be chosen, at first. After that, you'll have to read the book yourself. I've kept an eye out for others in the series (there are six) and her other series, of which there seem to be many. It'll never be a favourite book, but it's certainly an interesting take on the usual teenager-series.

Ruby Holler

I picked this up at the Exclusive Books sale. I can't find a decent sized image of the cover I actually have, so you'll have to made do with the first edition cover (or at least a reprint thereof, since it has the little Carnegie Medal thing on it). I don't usually hold with children's books that have won awards, more because of some vague prejudice that those books must be ridiculously boring than for anything factual. And given the fact that I pay absolutely no attention to that when I'm actually purchasing books, probably means (a) I'm less prejudiced than I think and (b) whether or not a book has won an award or not is completely irrelevant to me.

Anyway, Ruby Holler was my second orphanage book in a very short space of time (the other is from CAFDA and I'll talk about it later). This is a wonderful book, with two very fun, very real main characters - the brother and sister orphans. The orphanage owners are your requisite evil villains (why is that such a stereotype? I presume it's at least partly true, or it wouldn't be a stereotype, but surely there must be some pleasant orphanage people out there?). The prospective adopters are old, but loving, and live out in the country - also a prerequisite for these types of books, why is it that 'country' is always seen as better than 'town' or, the lowest of the low, 'city'?

Anyway, I love these kinds of books and this one comes complete with a mystery to solve and hidden treasure and a happy ending. An enchanting book.

The Dandelion Diary: the Tricky Art of Walking

I can't recall, off the top of my head, where exactly this book is from. Probably one of the Exclusive Books sales, given that it looks like I'm the only one to have read this copy. I do think, though, that I'm going to have to take photographs of certain covers [updated: now done] to get the pictures to be decent sizes here. What's the point of having a picture of the cover if no-one can see it?

Anyway, having arthritis I'm interested in stories about how people cope with and overcome other debilitating diseases. Not that my arthritis is debilitating, but it could be one day. I do, however, like these to be well-written, rather than anecdotal (my cousin's wife's grandfather found ______ really helpful). In this case, the disease in question is Friedreich's ataxia, which, just like ankylosing spondylitis, makes me really glad I only have arthritis.

This is the story of how Marguerite discovered that she had her disease - her older brother suffers as well - and how this affects her life and her family. It's a moving account of denial, acceptance, anger, despair, hope and courage. And so much more. It's a book I would recommend to anyone.

The Discworld

On my last visit to CAFDA, I had the good fortune to spot Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett. What, exactly, it was doing in the children's section rather than the fantasy section is beyond me, but I grabbed it up as soon as I could.

I love the Discworld series. I love some characters more than others (I have to say that I frequently find the Wizards very irritating) and there are some books that I can do without. However, every Discworld book I've ever read has belonged to someone else, usually my dad. Now, I have the beginnings of my own collection.

I have to say that reviewing the Discworld series seems somewhat superfluous. How can there be people in the world that have not read and enjoyed this series? Granted, the humour may not be to everyone's taste (like my mother, for instance), but they're just such fun! Particularly when they parody particular real-world myths, stories and other things. I'm particularly fond of those books. Also, any book that has significant periods of Death, Tiffany Aching and other witches, the Wee Free Men, etc. I'm also fond of the City Watch.

In short, before I go gushing off again, I shall say that these are just books of fun. A quick afternoon read of happy absurdity before returning to more mundane or serious matters.

Cecilia: an ex-Nun's Extraordinary Journey

I'm beginning to think that it would be simpler to just photograph the books myself. At least then I'd get decent sized pictures. On the other hand, that involves cables and effort and so on, so it's unlikely to happen.

A year and a day before I was born, Cecilia left the Sisters of Mercy convent she'd spent her entire adult life in and became an ordinary woman again. This memoir covers parts of her childhood, particularly as relates to her decision to enter the Convent. It covers a fair amount of life in the convent and the doubts and concerns she had to deal with. It then advances on the challenges and excitement of entering the secular world, around the age of 40, rather than 20.

This is a touching story, one I recommend for anyone interested in what could drive someone to enter into the religious life in this way. The Sisters of Mercy seems to be a particularly strict order and things are, of course, not done in the same way as when Cecilia was a member of that order, but it's still an interesting life to read about. It's also an interesting version of the traditional coming of age story, if you choose to look at it in that way.

The Swiss Family Robinson

Ah, a long weekend. I should have read piles of books. Right? Apparently not. Apparently that's not when I read. Or, at least, it wasn't this weekend. I feel like I should have read something vaguely in keeping with it being Human Rights Day on Sunday (in South Africa). Instead I spent a large amount of time at Kirstenbosch, saw (and heard) a beautiful performance by the Cape Philharmonic and managed to read a single book. It's a book I've always wanted to read and have only read snippets of here and there.

The Swiss Family Robinson is an educational book for children, in the style of Robinson Crusoe (hence the name). I have to say that while it's a fun adventure story, anyone with even a vague comprehension of geography, flora and fauna will find it ridiculous. Or, at least, the collection of the most useful plants and animals across the world on one island will be considered ridiculous. But, it is a fantasy, so one should make allowances. What I really find difficult to stomach is the dialogue. I don't care when it was written, why it was written or any of that, people just don't talk like that. Especially not six-year-old boys. I'm willing to overlook some things, but there comes a point when my disbelief cannot be suspended any further.

It's a fun classic that should definitely be read, but don't expect something believable (unless you're under ten).