Random Selections

This is definitely one week that I would not have read my four books had I not been committed to this challenge. The combination of a flurry of activity at work and feeling a bit under the weather nearly prevented me from reaching my goal. Nearly.

There were really no selection criteria for the titles I read these past few days. Literally, I just picked up the books from the pile on my coffee table closest to the chair I sit on. At the moment, there are five such stacks in formation, discounting the magazine bunch on the floor close by. Sloth prevented me from reaching further. I ended up with quite a mixed bag.

Mary Roach’s Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife was the first book of the week. Despite its being witty and clever, I preferred Stiff, although I know of several people who would argue that point, including my husband. I suppose it’s a matter of preference according to subject: either bodies or ghosts hold more appeal. Sorry Casper.

Second was a French book by Carol Allain entitled Génération Y: l’enfant roi devenu adulte, about Gen Next. Often Xs and Ys are lumped together in conversations about employees/citizens/consumers of the future. In terms of attitudes, values and behaviour, however, we stand miles apart. As an Xer and employer, I’m pretty adamant about that. The same has probably been said for every single generation and its predecessor (Read Boom, Bust & Echo for an exemplary, if slightly dated, discussion on the topic), but as part of the bust sandwiched between the abundant Boomers and their (according to Allain) generally spoiled offspring, I think about and pay attention to generational differences pretty often, as do most of my peers. I find this topic downright fascinating and distressing all at once and could go on and on about it. I’d better get off this issue right now, before I do.

Completely changing channels, let me move on to book three, Shashi Tharoor’s Bookless in Baghdad: Reflections on Writing and Writers. A collection of essays about the literary life and Indian writers in particular, I found it, above all, revealing. Besides producing novels, the author works for the UN, which gives him a more globalized and politicized outlook than most. I liked his discussions on such giants as Salman Rushdie and poet Pablo Neruda, as well as his reflections on what it means to be Indian, and his long-lasting love of P.G. Wodehouse.

Finally, I polished off Time Was Soft There: A Paris Sojourn at Shakespeare & Co., by Jeremy Mercer, about a journalist’s experience living in the legendary Left Bank Parisian bookshop along with other would-be writers. I didn’t much care for the author himself, but I greatly enjoyed reading about daily life in such a unique and bookish environment. The man who owns the store, George Whitman, makes all his boarders read a book a day. You’ve got to respect a guy like that. I wish I could do the same…

That’s all for tonight. I haven’t picked out my menu for next week yet, so many books are there to peruse. I think I’m in more of a fiction mood, but we’ll see what comes along.

Comments

[Allison]

Just wanted to let you know that I enjoy your blog very much (I found it through the Literature Carnival this weekend), and that it's going on my blogroll.

Keep up the good work.

[Denise]

Stiff was a lot better than Spook, definitely.

[miriam's ideas]

I loved Bookless in Baghdad.

[anypelf]

This simply prodigy!
http://danuegonax.com
The Author, you - genius...