Character Assassination (Or: Closure Is A Real Word)

For those of you who read this week's NBLB weekend survey, and want to suggest that I watch the new version of A Room with a View on PBS this Sunday, I have these words to say to you: No, thank you.

I'm sorry to say this, but I did get spoilered because somebody had the bright idea to post the entire 2007 production on YouTube, broken down into ten parts. I'd post the link, but I'm still too upset to consider what they did to one of my favorite books.

It does go without saying that I am insanely partial to the original Merchant-Ivory version, with both Helena Bonham Carter and Julian Sands at their best (before both of them devolved into caricatures of their former selves), with a young Daniel Day-Lewis (who, I believe, grew back his Cecil Vyse mustache when he started drinking those damn milkshakes) and a plethora of top-shelf British acting talent supporting them. That's why I was looking forward to this new version - I was hoping they'd breathe some fresh air into what was threatening to become a musty relic.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

Say what you will about messing with classics (see also: criticism of the the ongoing Miss Marple series) or about how E. M. Forster was unable to relate to A Room With a View later in life (see also: Maurice), but I don't think I'm buying what Andrew Davies is trying to sell here - not even to justify the time shifts, the "new" "ending," or even the currently-disputed fact that Forster did write a postscript to Room which reflected his more cynical view of life and love. Yes, I'm part of the horribly gauche masses who do want George Emerson and Lucy Honeychurch to end up together, as they should have been: blissfully in love in Italy, showering each other with kisses. And why, pray tell, should that be a problem?

What also gets to me was that the "liberties" taken by the producers and screenwriters with this novel are a massive waste of everyone's time and talent - most especially the adorable Rafe Spall (seen here in another production), who could not have been a much cuter George Emerson if he tried. He does remind me a bit of Heath Ledger, in a way - if Heath (God bless his soul) had become hopelessly addicted to IHOP instead of partying- and watching him yearn soulfully for Lucy Honeychurch brought home all the great reasons why I've loved George Emerson the way Forster intended him to be. And yes, he does have certain delicious scenes without his clothes on, including the final scene of him at the Pensione Bertolini.

But then... the freaking ending. No. No. No. They should never have done that to poor George and Lucy. Wasn't it enough to have them risk ostracism by eloping, thereby liberating Lucy from the narrowmindedness of her quaint English countryside town? Again, say what you want about whether or not it's an ending that would have made E. M. Forster's heart proud, but: unnecessary, blasphemous, and a great waste of both George Emerson and Rafe Spall.

And this raises yet another timeless question: Why do we even bother with "happily ever after" in the first place, if so many people dislike it so much to mess around with it?

Don't get me wrong. There are days when I do feel that a sad and/or messy ending is appropriate - witness my love for Ian McEwan's Amsterdam, for instance. Sometimes, however, there are days when readers like myself and Happy Scribe have no use for bitter cynicism. Yes, we understand that sugar is bad for you, and can be kind of fake when you just slap it on... but does it really help to be bitter, especially at a time when most people have a reason to be cynical? Come on, people: how easy is it, anyway, to find somebody who is actually happy about living on a diet of nothing but spelt and Brussels sprouts?

My theory: If Forster (or anybody else) wanted to prove a point by showing a more realistic view of relationships by rewriting George and Lucy after their elopement, that's fine - but that also betrays a lack of trust between author and audience, especially when the "creative risk" means destroying people's perceptions of characters they have grown to love. Most people who read books would rather prefer to leave what happens next to the imagination, regardless of what they think about the ending or the author's intention. The synergy between reader and author is what makes messing with an established ending - especially an established happy ending - a complete waste of time; there's a reason, after all, why closure is a legitimate word.

NBLB Weekend Survey #3: Questions of Character

An early start to your weekend this time around - pardon us, we here at NBLB have had an eventful week, and are ready to curl up with stacks of library finds until the next Monday. Friday cannot come too soon!

This week's survey takes on literary characters - those you love, and those you love to hate...as well as the ones you wouldn't want to touch with a ten-foot pole. Here's a questionable list from your NBLB-ers - copy, paste and post your own!

Meimei: Rumplestiltskin gives her the shivers.

1) Who is your all-time literary villain? This is difficult for me. Experience tells me that villains are merely characters who cannot overcome flaws; my upbringing, on the other hand, has taught me not to love a villain. So, because I'm hard up for an answer... Rumpelstiltskin. (Don't look at me like that. The Brothers Grimm do count as literature, y'know.)

2) On the opposite end - who is your all-time fictional hero? Fitzwilliam Darcy may be THE template for the ultimate romantic lead - and I'm not denying that - but my heart has been irrevocably claimed by George Emerson, from E.M. Forster's A Room with a View. Who can't resist a free spirit who loves without pretense?

3) Who would you date? NOT Rumpelstiltskin, obviously.

4) Which fictional gal/guy would be your best pal? Miss Jane Marple! She may be an old biddy, but I do have to admire someone who relies on her knowledge of human nature to solve mysteries. We'd spend endless hours knitting, gossiping, and refilling bottomless cups of Earl Grey. Come to think of it, I could plan an entire dinner party with Agatha Christie's detectives. It would be worth it just to hear Hercule Poirot say, "Zees CSI Miami - eet ees nonsense!"

5) Which fictional monster creeps you out the most? Here's an unpopular opinion for you: Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights. Will somebody PLEASE tell me what's so romantic about him? I understand that he was heartbroken, and I don't want to spoil it for anyone who hasn't read it... but, really, now, all that crap he pulled after losing Catherine Earnshaw? Way past pathetic.

6) Who do you want to give a good smack? Another unpopular opinion: Bridget. Freaking. Jones. Sorry, but she lost my sympathy during Edge of Reason... so imagine how happy I was when I realized that the movie did not follow the book.

7) Which hero/heroine is YOU - like "whoah, took the words outta my mouth" sort of YOU.. I have to say this without having read the book: Catherine Morland from Austen's Northanger Abbey. Trashy novel addiction? Check. Inquisitive nature? Check. Strong yearning for love conquering all? Obviously. Now I want to know more about her story.

8) If you could have an hour long interview with a great literary character, who would it be? Mr. Rochester, from Jane Eyre. Just so I can ask him about those WTF questions (see #10).

9) Who would you lock in a room with your worst frenemy? The Devil, of course - preferably Milton's, from Paradise Lost.

10) Finally, which literary side character deserves a book all on his/her own? (If it hasn't been written yet) St. John Rivers, the jilted suitor/cousin from Jane Eyre. (Note to Scribe: What is it about this book, anyway? Does that mean I now have to read Jasper Fforde?) I was disappointed that the one "legit" JE spin-off that I know of - Jean Rhys' Wide Sargasso Sea - was about Rochester shacking up with crazy Bertha (yet another character that deserves to be slapped) in the Caribbean. Why couldn't it have been St. John sailing off to India instead?

The Happy Scribe: No clowns, please.

1) Who is your all-time literary villain? Professor Moriarty tops my list - a good villain in my book needs to be able to make one think they COULD intellectually trounce the hero's ass if given more time/resources/page space.

2) On the opposite end - who is your all-time fictional hero? Granny Weatherwax of Terry Pratchett's Discworld seems to be an unlikely heroine, being a grumpy witch from Lancre. Whenever she enters a scene, I feel like everything's going to be right as rain...as long as Esme has her way (she usually does).

3) Who would you date? I've had questionable dating choices in real life. I always thought Lt. Cmdr. Data from the Star Trek Next Generation series would be a fun date - everything "old" would be new to this android who aspires to be human. (While "Number One" William Riker seems the more dishy sci-fi choice, he had a wandering eye...which would force me to fictionally smack him.) My husband thinks I would prefer Darcy...but Fitzwilliam is more of the "who would you marry" type. (And hubby is rather like Darcy...the better-looking, more talented counterpart in real life. ;)

4) Which fictional gal/guy would be your best pal? The fantastically flamboyant lady novelist of A Room with a View - Eleanor Lavish and I would share many a macintosh square gossiping under the Tuscan sun.

5) Which fictional monster creeps you out the most? I'm very predictable: Pennywise from Stephen King's It, hands down - el Yucko creepo del mundo! I cannot stand clowns - there's something about forced merriment that makes me cringe (Pratchett illustrates this quite perfectly with the creepy Dr. Whiteface, of the Guild of Fools).

6) Who do you want to give a good smack? I mentioned William Riker, but if I really thought about it: Briony Tallis of Ian McEwan's Atonement begs a good shake. Also: most romance novel heroines (especially the ones who seem "feisty"...but their horniness throws brain and corset to the four winds in less than four pages), Anne Rice's whiny Louis, and (if it was possible before the double suicide - the Priest and Nursey deserve added whacks for not doing the smacking themselves) Romeo and Juliet.

7) Which hero/heroine is YOU - like "whoah, took the words outta my mouth" sort of YOU.. Scarlett O'Hara's "I'll never be hungry again!" definitely echoes my current state of mind (though I kept wanting to snap her hoops at her absolute blindness to Rhett Butler's devotion), as does Shakespeare's Beatrice, who is simultaneously protective and vulnerable. Hermione Granger of the Harry Potter books is also another personality doppelganger - fiercely loyal, very nerdy, and just the right amount of scruffiness.

8) If you could have an hour long interview with a great literary character, who would it be? That's a difficult question, because one thing that makes all these characters "great" are the multitude of layers we have yet to discover from them. I'd have to start off with a classic character if forced to choose - and this is a cop out - it would be Dante of the celestial worlds and words.

9) Who would you lock in a room with your worst frenemy? I would dress him/her up as a sperm whale and put them in a pool with Capt. Ahab. Thar she blows!

10) Finally, which literary side character deserves a book all on his/her own? (If it hasn't been written yet) Yes, Mei, you must read Fforde! I always thought Lady Macbeth needed her own novel. Ah, and Wicked is such a phenomenon now...so there goes another "untold story." Villains deserve their own say, n'est-ce pas? Too many fall prey to violence and ruin while the milksop hero/heroine ride off into the sunset with all the glory.

Yes, We Have a Playlist

What can I say? I had a lazy morning.

This week's task: Name all the literary references in the songs added to this list! (Clue: There's a reason why Led Zeppelin gets a mention here twice; at least three tracks were already mentioned on this blog, and the Coldplay one is a ringer.)

...And He's Just as Good in the Kitchen, Too

(Editor's Note: We at NBLB would like to apologize, in advance, for the explicit adult content contained in this entry - and in particular for the improper conduct of the blogger in question, an unmarried woman who is otherwise regarded as a fine and upstanding member of the community when not pre-occupied with scandalous entertainment in her free time. If you find yourself being offended by this entry at any time, please feel free to browse our archives - or better yet, wait until Meimei finally recovers her composure, so you can go ahead and nag her about that pile of Christian-relationship books that she keeps saying she's going to write for us but never gets around to doing so in the first place. Thank you for your kindness and understanding.)

*********

Dear Dave Lieberman:

Let's get one thing straight. The main reason why I borrowed Young and Hungry from the library had nothing to do with all the great recipes made from fresh, affordable food for people like us on a budget. To be perfectly frank with you, I've actually gotten lazy with the cooking lately, and it's not like I'm going to have the best occasion any time soon to, say, use a spice rub or whip up a gigantic (but beautiful) potato-herb omelet for brunch.

What I'm telling you here is that the real reason why I borrowed the book had everything to do with the pictures. No, I'm not talking about those pictures - although I'll have to admit that this is pretty damn sexy, and this nearly made me drop my fork. (And let's not even get me started on this slutty little number, shall we? Not to mention this, which I am sure would be of interest to Happy Scribe's husband...)

You know very well which pictures I'm talking about, Dave. You don't even have to try and pretend that they never happened, because it's all in the book.

(Wait. Here's the part where I'm supposed to post those pictures I'm talking about - the more incriminating, yet fully clothed, ones where you're holding up produce like you're about to tempt your readers. Unfortunately, the just moral laws of Internet property rights prevent me from posting them on this blog entry... so read on.)

All you have to do is smile at me like that - yes, like THAT (you bad boy, YOU!) - and you've reduced me to rubble. But then you go ahead and pose for those pictures in your book with your food, like a frat boy's mockery of Nigella Lawson. You're killing me, Dave. You have no idea what that does to me, do you?

Oh, don't give me that look now, Dave. You didn't just have me at "hello." How could I not love a full-blooded American male who's a self-taught chef and capable of making the most beautiful salads on this God-given earth? (Yes, I know you employed a professional stylist, but I don't care - besides, it's not like the average man notices when women who pose for FHM are Photoshopped within an inch of their lives, correct?) How could I not be swayed by someone who could make three kinds of tapenade - or even pronounce the word tapenade correctly in the first place - and still shamelessly admit to using yellow cake mix and frozen croissant dough?

And what about that one Christmas break when my Mom and I watched you make that bacon hash on TV? You should've seen the horror on my Mom's face when she realized that you were making hash out of bacon - bacon! - when you should've been doing that with corned beef in the first place. Did I care that you could have killed me with all that fat and sodium? Oh, hell no. The only way you could've made me a happier woman that morning was to throw in some chocolate-covered bacon on the side.

Don't even think about giving me that excuse about the Food Network honchos trying to pass you off as the American Jamie Oliver. As far as I know, you're not married, and freelancing as a personal chef in New York. You went to Yale, for crying out loud. You could just show up at my doorstep in a chef uniform and still get me hot under the collar. Heck, at this point I'm not even bothered by you being part-Jewish (and, if rumors are to be believed, deeply conflicted over the fact) - because I'd be more than willing to feed you all the prosciutto that your heart and soul can handle. Literally and figuratively.

You know what I want, Dave. The champagne's in the fridge. The bacon hash is on the stove. You know where to find me.

XOXO, Meimei

ps. And regarding Dave's Dinners (hee, "dinners") - mark my words: you know I'm gonna be all over that sucka as soon as I get my hands on it at the Barnes & Noble.

Bite Me: MaryJanice Davidson and the Feisty Undead

Guilty pleasure confession from this past weekend: MaryJanice Davidson's Betsy the Vampire Queen series, kicking off with the hilarious travails of an outspoken heroine who just so happens to be immortal...but wishes she had a pedicure before she died. Midwest gal Betsy Taylor is mowed down by the soccer mom's weapon of choice - an SUV - only to find herself rising from the grave in the same week in "Undead and Unwed." Thus begins the chronicles of Betsy the Vampire Queen, who rules with a manicured fist... and her very sexy consort Eric Sinclair. Now at 7 books (so far!), Davidson's heroine has triumphed over rebellious minions, a scary vampire King, an attic zombie, a manic librarian, and her own pesky blood craving problem (solved by one very accomodating husband).

While real-life vampire wannabes scare the crap out of me, I did have my Lestat/Louis** crush in the aftermath of Interview with the Vampire. Yes, I bought the Anne Rice books and watched Buffy/Angel (sigh) religiously. I thought I left the bloody fiends behind until I added one of Davidson's pastel-covered books in my basket of chick lit (I'm dreadfully shallow when picking books from the library's humor section. A cute cover gets me every time). After breezing through a predictable "Dedication," the latest from "The Nanny Diaries" authors Emma McLaughlin and Nicola Kraus, I sat down and read Davidson's insane vampire chronicles in a few hours. Hot undead sex scenes? Check. Glamorous vampires? Check. Cute werewolf side stories? Check. Adorable vampire slayer? Check. An unstrained brain throughout this literary experience? Check, check, CHECK. It's not Tolstoy, chicas. But it was fun. Betsy isn't into all the vampire bullshit - and she swears like a sailor. Would Lestat be aghast? Something tells me he'd ask her liven up the perpetually moaning members of his coven.

The side characters are pretty awesome - especially her half-sister, the Anti-Christ Laura, the spawn of Satan who moonlights as a Born-Again prude to rebel against her famous mother (yeah, the Devil is a woman...who looks like Lena Olin). But let's not forget Antonia the psychic werewolf; knitting George, the former Fiend; Jon the vampire slayer with a massive crush on the Queen; Tina the lesbian minion; and a slew of wisecracking monsters and mortals. Speaking of mortals, most of the series' major characters live together in a mansion owned by Betsy's best friend Jessica. It's a wacky, weird kind of Full House sans Stamos, a dysfunctional family of freaks not unlike one's own gene pool, with supernatural weapons and fangs. I would also advise reading these books with access to a cold shower if alone...Betsy, you minx! While the sex scenes ARE steamy, it seems the immortals mate for eternal life - so the romance novel lover in me is more than satisfied by the happily ever...and ever...and forever resolutions to the various relationships in the books.

Davidson IS Betsy, by the way. "I don't know about you guys, but I'd rather be reading a book than listening to some self-important idiot blathering about - as Elaine from Seinfeld put it - `the excrutiating minutiae of everyday life,'" says the lady behind all those eye-popping biting scenes between the Queen and Sinclair. Perhaps this is why she speaks best through fantasy characters like vamps, werewolves and mermaids (yes, there's a series too!). She doesn't take herself seriously, a trait I appreciate in a contemporary author, especially when she writes in BOTH my favorite genres.

"I mean, the whole reason I brought up Betsy in the first place was because I was tired of the broody ancient vampire protagonist paired with the trusting virginal no-bad-qualities-at-all heroine," writes the author in her blog. "If I go to the bookstore today, there are all kinds of nutty heroines getting into trouble in the paranormal world, mistresses (sort of) of their own destiny. That works for me...I admit it: I like my romances frothy. Angst = yawn, as far as I'm concerned."

Thanks MJ, for breathing new life into depressed vampire lore. If Rice ever returns to her roots, one hopes a few fanged smiles are in order. After all, you can only spend so many lifetimes kvetching. At some point, you should fall in love...and get your nails done.

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** Lestat and Louis, ah such an ill-starred screen couple. One bad movie about a crazy primordial queen, a spiteful eternal toddler and ancient depression have kept them apart. Add one Born Again author who has denounced her best-selling series, and we may never see that ONE on-screen kiss/bite that should've happened.

You know there will be an Anne Rice post some day.

Poisoned Cupcake

Come on, oh my star is fading
And I see no chance of release
And I know I'm dead on the surface
But I am screaming underneath...*

I remember that, in commenting about Ian McEwan's Atonement, I mentioned that I had read an earlier, shorter work of McEwan's, but I barely remembered anything about the plot or the title. That comment, I'll admit, smacked of utmost pretentiousness - something I'm usually guilty about when it comes to unplugging my piehole - but I was so convinced of having read the book that I actually re-borrowed it from the library and re-read it.

That book? Amsterdam.

I'm surprised that, given all the attention on that gigantic magnum opus that is Atonement - not to mention the post-Atonement kudos for On Chesil Beach - there really isn't enough attention being paid to McEwan's earlier works. But I think that's just me, because I tend to associate the author more with compact, twisted stories like Amsterdam than overwhelming period epics complete with Keira Knightley swanning around in green satin.

(And speaking of film adaptations of McEwan: The trailer for Enduring Love not only scares the Beelzebub out of me - what with Rhys Ifans serenading Daniel Craig with the creepiest cover version of "God Only Knows" - but it scares me so much that I can't even pick up the book without hearing that song. Nooooooo!)

Going back to Amsterdam: I can't read it without thinking of the book as a perfect little poisoned cupcake - and not because of the twist at the end, so dark and bitter that (to paraphrase a description of a recent conversation with an ex) bars of Valrhona and Scharffen-Berger are looking at it and thinking, "Damn, at least I have some sugar." I read this and I can't help but wonder how McEwan managed to fit so many moving targets in such a compact little story: friendship, infidelity, mortality, moral indignation, the hypocrisy of politicians, the twisted nature of the mass-media beast. Not even the creative process escapes McEwan's impeccable eye here, especially when it's laid bare, both as a wasteful self-indulgence and a vital component for the uplift of the spirit.

With so many ripe targets in such a tiny book, one's left to wonder if even a bare-bones summary - two friends meet at a funeral for a former lover; chaos ensues, beginning with the revelation of the woman's scandalous affair with a politician - is enough to give a taste of what really lies beneath. It's not the kind of book you really want to pass on to a friend, unless you're prepared for a difficult conversation: What price friendship? What constitutes a betrayal of a person's memory? What good would art and morality be, when the arbiters themselves are flawed? And more tellingly... in the last precious moments of your life, whose face would you rather see?

Stuck to the edge of this ball and chain
I'm on my way back down
Stood on a bridge, tied to the noose
Sick to the stomach
You can say what you mean
But it won't change a thing
I'm sick of the secrets
Stood on the edge, tied to a noose
You came along and you cut me loose...

- *Coldplay

The NBLB Weekend Survey, Part 2: Deal-Breakers and Regrets

We had so much fun answering last week's Q&A that we thought we'd make this a weekly tradition - a carpe diem to close out our hectic weeks, so to speak. Why not try this week's questions on for kicks? The answers may totally surprise you...

THE HAPPY SCRIBE: The joys of reading with a glass of wine, and the agony of Scarlett Johansson's "acting."

1) Inspired by the NY Times article: What's the bigger deal-breaker in a romantic relationship: Guy Who Doesn’t Like to Read, or Guy Who Reads Too Many Pretentious Books and Wants You to Do the Same? Too many pretentious books, for sure - if he starts quoting The Fountainhead at me, THIS far down the line of the peak of its popularity/relevance, then I'm definitely on the bullshit alert. Other red flags: if his bookshelf is crammed with early (read: pre-repentant) Anne Rice and Anita Blake novels, with hardbound copies of Bram Stoker lying around. He probably sleeps with his hands folded across his chest. BEWARE!

2) In the same vein as #1: Would a similar issue be a deal-breaker for your friendships, as well? I never liked literature used as a way to lord over anyone. It's just tacky. Before the telly and reality shows, there were novels read for entertainment. Yes, some books change the world. Most of them are great paired with ice cream and/or a nice glass of wine.

3) Describe your ideal environment for reading. Rainy days curled up on my couch, with my cat purring next to me, are always wonderful. I also like to read before falling asleep. Some day, I'd like a little corner nook next to a huge window overlooking a garden.

4) How well do you take care of your own books? I'm getting better at this, since I borrow most of my books now from the library. When I used to buy more books, I do admit I did every heinous thing to them: folding pages, coffee accidents, and quite a few (when I had a tub) with water damage due to being knocked over in a warm lavendar bath.

5) What kinds of books did your parents like to read? Have you noticed any changes in their reading taste when you were growing up? My mother read a lot of mystical/philosophical books. My father always had histories - especially of ancient Rome. Now, they pretty much read magazines, cook books - if I give them a book, it has to be a practical one. They did read The Secret from cover to cover. And of course, they also read the Bible. Religiously. ;)

6) Strangest reason for not reading or finishing a literary classic. Catch-22 - I broke up with someone, and didn't want to read it anymore because it reminded me of him. I did eventually finish it - years later.

7) Author whose works you deeply regret reading, now that you think of it in hindsight. I don't know if I have any regrets! I've read all kinds of books for research, and to inhabit another points of view. Ditto books that were literary requirements in school - Faulkner gives me a headache, but his language is beautiful, and I'm glad I DID read the required novels back then. They opened up the complexities of other books I hold dear.

8) Book(s) you’d wish somebody would just develop into a movie, already. Okay, I seriously need to see a Terry Pratchett movie PRONTO. Hey Hollywood - Shia could play Mort, and James Earl Jones could definitely voice Death's ALL CAPS WITH FINESSE.

9) Book(s) which you wish was (or were) never adapted for film in the first place. The Nanny Diaries, with the exception of Laura Linney's brittle Mrs. X, was a painful experience. Maybe because pneumatically mono-expressioned ScarJo was involved. I have issues. I wanted Anne Hathaway in that part, but she already did Devil Wears Prada. Oh...and the Sci-Fi Channel's Dune movie. Heinous!

10) Book(s) you would like to wish on your worst enemy, preferably on their birthday. The scenario would be, this would be the book they would have to read over and over and over in a small room.

So in THIS scenario, for odious people...Ulysses by James Joyce.

And then they have to write a 50 page essay. That'll get deleted once they reach page 49.

+++++++++++++

MEIMEI: Revenge is a dish best served... with a generous helping of Dr. Phil.

1) Inspired by the NY Times article: What's the bigger deal-breaker in a romantic relationship: Guy Who Doesn’t Like to Read, or Guy Who Reads Too Many Pretentious Books and Wants You to Do the Same? Oh, I would DEFINITELY break up with Too Many Pretentious Books Guy. The main thing is, I don’t deal well with judgmental minds – regardless of whether or not they read - so if a guy wants to give me a hard time over my reading, or my indiscriminate tastes, it’s enough reason for me to tell him not to let the door hit his self-importance on the way out. I’m also more likely to break up with a guy over his CD collection… and if that’s the case, Ayn Rand novels – displayed prominently and quoted often – are the literary equivalent of Kid Rock’s Greatest Hits for me. Other deal-breakers: Mein Kampf, any book-of-the-dead/ Necronomicon-type stuff, vampire stories (yeah, I already dated that guy… in high school!), fundamentalist Christian/ right-wing tracts.



2) In the same vein as #1: Would a similar issue be a deal-breaker for your friendships, as well? Speaking as someone who was friends in college with Too Many Pretentious Books Person, I’d say that it does become a deal breaker in the long run. Like I’ve said, I hate being judged as much as the next person, so anyone who uses books to lord it over me (as opposed to gently recommending or giving something I’m not too crazy about) shouldn’t hope to stay friends with me very long. Although I’m still wondering what would happen if any of my friends stumbled upon my romance novels!

3) Describe your ideal environment for reading. On a bad day, I’d imagine a library – something like the den from Happy Scribe’s childhood home in Manila – with a comfortable couch, a soft blanket, and a fully stocked pot of tea. On a very good day, it would have to be a hammock and a quiet beach… or at least a fully-screened back yard.

4) How well do you take care of your own books? I used to be very bad – dog-eared pages, banged-up front covers and spines – but I’ve gotten better with making sure that all of my books are “gently used” rather than banged-up beyond recognition. A good reader, after all, should always remember the value of her own books.

5) What kinds of books did your parents like to read? Have you noticed any changes in their reading taste when you were growing up? My Dad is the king of the “airplane novel” – Clancys, Ludlums, Grishams, Le Carres, and Danielle Steels on paperback, with artfully broken spines for better reading on the plane. He was already in a mentally taxing job as an economist for a foreign-aid organization, which explains the mindless escapism. Mom was the more philosophical and literate one between the two of them; even as a devout Christian she never denied herself anything, especially when it came to Mary Higgins Clark or my reading list for IBH English. (I once caught her looking at my copy of Madame Bovary, to which she replied, “Darling, all the good books have been banned by the Church in one way or another.”) Since then, however, retirement has brought out more time to read, and while Dad still follows up with airplane books and best-sellers (which explains his fascination with Atonement and Barack Obama), both of them have been reading the same types of books, especially if they’ve been written by saints (e.g. Interior Castle by Saint Theresa of Avila) or mainstream Christian writers (yes, they both got The Purpose Driven Life and The Five Love Languages).

6) Strangest reason for not reading or finishing a literary classic. To Kill a Mockingbird – up until now I still haven’t finished the book or the movie, because every time I try to start it, I find myself taking a break… and the next thing I know, so much time has passed that I have to return it to the library. Also, I continue to resist Brideshead Revisited because of the miniseries... and in particular, certain Internet postings about the unintentional HoYay throughout the miniseries.

7) Author whose works you deeply regret reading, now that you think of it in hindsight. I do regret reading all those Sweet Dreams teen romances when I was growing up. I also regret being anywhere near vaguely interested in Judy Blume – yeah, yeah, Judy, I get it, Teh Sex is not Teh Evol, but did you have to keep harping on it? I’ll stick to learning about it in books with hot, repressed English noblemen in them, thanks.

8) Book(s) you’d wish somebody would just develop into a movie, already. For the longest time, I’ve been telling people that El Filibusterismo would make a great movie – take out the boring parts that spoke to the worst of Jose Rizal, and you’ve got a dark but very timely story about cultural identity, revolution, and revenge. On a more contemporary vein, I’m still waiting for Donna Tartt’s The Secret History - wasn't this supposedly in development ten years ago?

9) Book(s) which you wish was (or were) never adapted for film in the first place. The Cat in the Hat and He’s Just Not That Into You – why, God, why? I’m also annoyed with what Hollywood did to Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, The Scarlet Letter, and How to Make an American Quilt… and if what I’ve heard about the casting for Veronika Decides to Die does come true, I am going to be one very unhappy camper. Also, if we must talk about Filipino literature, I’m very disappointed by some of the Nick Joaquin adaptations I’ve seen on screen.

10) Book(s) you would like to wish on your worst enemy, preferably on their birthday. For this purpose, there is no finer gift in my eyes than the fatal combination of Finnegans Wake (ten million times more headache-inducing than Ulysses) and the complete works of Phillip C. McGraw, with an aperitif of vampire erotica.

Do you have examples of books more tortuous than a James Joyce novel? Can you come up with better reasons to recommend Brideshead Revisited? Any stories about dating non-readers? Let us know... by answering these questions on your blog, or leaving your comments for us! Hope you have a good weekend!