Books that aren't overrated

As someone who enjoys fiction of the cult variety more than mainstream novels, I'm always wary of books recommended to me as 'must reads'. More often than not, when I read a universally acclaimed book I find myself disappointed. Every so often, though, somebody does convince me to read something generally acclaimed and I'm pleasantly surprised.

I've read a few of these lately, so in honour of these books I present to you:

Christina's list of books that aren't overrated.

1. The children's book:
The Finn Family Moomintroll is a gorgeous children's book by Finnish author Tove Jansson. The Moomin books are huge in Europe, and utterly charming.

2. The crime novel:

As discussed elsewhere in this blog, I've started reading the Sherlock Holmes books and have found them much more enjoyable than I expected. Who'd have thunk the famous detective would be so delightfully eccentric?

3. The science fiction series:

I'm currently working my way through Douglas Adams's The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (the trilogy in four parts- plus the other one). I was so sure these books would turn out to be overrated. They're not. They. Are. So. Funny. I keep attracting funny looks on public transport by (literally) laughing out loud whilst reading them on my ereader.

4. The romance:
How can you go past Pride and Prejudice? Yet so many people do- they assume this book is a sappy romance and pass it over. The men I know who have been brave enough to read it have loved its glittering satire. Go on, read it. I dare you.

When my desk goes, I go

You may remember from this post that I am awfully attached to my desk. Until this week, I didn't realise quite how much. It's a nice big desk, about two metres wide, with a return (a bit that juts out) on the left hand side which houses my laptop, dictionary and notebooks. (As pictured. I insisted on these paint colours when we moved in seven or eight years ago- now I can't wait to see the back of them!) Even though the desk is mostly used for study now, I still think of it as my 'writing desk'.

I mentioned earlier that I am soon to move. This is good: I am leaving behind my shoebox of a bedroom for significantly more space, including my own office area. I'm essentially going to be a boarder, so I have taken advantage of the fact that the space is already available and have started moving boxes over, bit by bit. My thought was that I would move in gradually, and eventually change home addresses once most of my things were in the new place. A casual, relaxed move.

It's not to be.

This week, I realised that my desk is too large to easily transport, so I'm going to need a few helping hands and will actually have to set a date for moving it. Then I realised that I can't bear to stay in my old place once my desk has moved. I simply cannot be without my beautiful desk, with all its space for thinking, writing and imagining.

So. The move date is set for the 27th. In the meantime, I promise I will blog about actual books soon.

22 boxes

I'm moving house in about a month, so naturally I've started packing. I started with my books, mainly because once I've cleared the books out of my room there will be much more space to move around and pack everything else! So far I've packed 22 boxes of books. There are another four or five boxes' worth that I can't afford to pack just now...

Yes, they are labelled by category. This is because I hope to have help unpacking and organizing them at the other end (HA, that means you!). I need it, because otherwise I will waste an entire week pouring over books I'd forgotten I had.

I already got distracted by my picture books whilst packing. (I collect picture books. I also collect perfume bottles and handbags. Contrary to popular belief, I do not collect shoes. I just happen to have quite a few of them.)

Language and the self

I’m a bit of an anglophile, much to the bewilderment of my parents, who brought me up to be keenly aware of my Finnish heritage. My interest in all things English, however, stems from a deeply-rooted conviction that culturally, I am a product of England as much as I am of Australia or Finland.

I ardently believe that language, far from being a simple tool for communication, is one of the strongest forces in shaping our consciousness. Even though Finnish was my first language, my whole education has been conducted in English. I first encountered the alphabet, that magical cluster of characters with the capacity to create worlds, in English. My obsession with the English language began then.

The folk tales I heard as a child came to me via England (did those adult storytellers ever really understand the power of Red Riding Hood’s cape or Cinderella’s shoe?). My dragons are dragons of flight and fire, they are not the Scandinavian crawling wyrms. The legends I read in primary school were English (are there any stories as wonderful as the Arthurian legends?). The fantasy I grew up on was written by Oxfordians. My sense of humour, even, is quite English (think Gaiman, Pratchett, Adams). In high school, I studied Shakespeare in three separate disciplines. The turns of phrase employed by the English, with their delightfully extensive vocabularies, have always made me proud to speak their language.

How can I begin to unravel this bundle of influences? How can I explain how King Arthur’s court shaped my impressions of the world more strongly than anything I ever saw on TV? How can I account for the fact that my imagination soared in response to black letters marching across the pages?

I’m not sure I can unravel it, and I don’t really want to. If you took away the influence of English, what was left wouldn’t be me anymore. I couldn’t tell you why it’s so important to me, it just seemed apparent from the start that the English language is one of the parameters of my universe. I am defined by this language and this literary heritage, by my responses to it and my passion for it, and I like it that way.

Briefly

You know by now that I admire the work of book critic Laura Miller.

This month, she wrote on why men don't read books, and on bad writing and what it's good for. Check it.

Sony Reader Touch - my new toy

My Sony Reader (Model PRS 600) arrived in the mail a couple of weeks ago. I was terribly excited about receiving it, but completely unprepared for the resulting love affair. I know, I know! I am a book lover! This blog is, after all, entitled 'Paper and Ink and Glue'. But I want to be honest with you, and the truth is that I adore my ereader.

IF YOU READ THIS BOOK THE WORLD WILL END

The Hypothetical Library is a blog by cover artist Charlie Orr. The project is fascinating: he asks authors to give a title and a description of a book they could write, but never will write, and then designs the covers and posts them.

When I first came across The Hypothetical Library, I thought 'That reminds me of the libary in the Dreaming, from the Sandman comics.' This library contains not just every book ever written, but also every book ever intended. It's one of my favourite things about the Sandman series. (Click on the image to see what I mean.)

As it turns out, I was right: The Hypothetical Library was actually partly inspired by the library in the Dreaming.

Now, Orr has actually designed a book for Neil Gaiman (with audio and e-book versions to come). The book is entitled If You Read this Book the World Will End. It looks as if the world actually would end, too. You can view the post here.

Would the real Sherlock Holmes please stand up?

I posted here about how the book is not always better than the film, and how I enjoyed the recent Sherlock Holmes film. I've since had several friends mention to me that they were disappointed with the film, in virtue of the characters being so different from those written by Conan Doyle. 'That's fair enough,' I thought, 'You have to draw the line somewhere. You don't get to go around claiming a film is based on a book if it doesn't even use the same story or characters.'

After all, everyone knows that Sherlock Holmes was a reserved private detective who spent his time smoking a pipe whilst sitting in a wingbacked chair, the picture of civility. It's all incredibly sedate and English. Right?

Robert Downey Jr., on the other hand, plays him as:

• a detective consulted by police
• eccentric
• energetic
• alcoholic (when without work)
• brash
• a prizefighter

Imagine my surprise when I started reading the Sherlock Holmes books and found that Holmes actually is all of these things! With one exception- in the books, Holmes has a cocaine habit when out of work. We can safely assume that the cocaine was substituted with alcohol in the film for the purposes of winning the sympathy of modern audiences (at the time, cocaine use was considered a vice, but not a terrible one).

Shouldn't the Sherlock Holmes fans be praising Guy Ritchie for presenting the rich, endearing true nature of Holmes to the world? (Not to mention for turning an English cliche into a fresh adventure story?)

Something of a filler

It occurred to me that I should alert you to the fact that posts this month are (and will be) few and mostly likely not very substantial. This is because the final two weeks of the semester are upon me. I know my priorities. =)

In the meantime, I was sneaking in some Black Books last night and noticed something of a resemblance between two of my favourite book-related people:

If you haven't seen any of Black Books and you are in possession of a sense of humour, I suggest you do yourself a favour and watch some. And by possessing a sense of humour, I mean that you have laughed at one of the following:

a.) The Princess Bride

b.) Monty Python and the Holy Grail

c.) Something by Terry Pratchett and/or Douglas Adams

Edit: A friend has pointed out that I failed to note that the dashing gentleman on the left is Dylan Moran of Black Books, and the charming one on the right is Mr. Neil Gaiman.

A book for mum

Belinda Alexandra's White Gardenia is one of the most beautiful books I have ever read. It has everything: history, romance, drama. It follows Anya, the daughter of a Russian aristocrat, displaced from birth. She flees her home on the Chinese-Russian border and grows into womanhood amidst the glitzy world of Shanghai nightclubs, only to again be be chased away by the circumstances of history. Once again a refugee, she must find a new homeland.

Alexandra is an Australian author and her historical detail is both accurate and fascinating. From the publisher's website:

"White Gardenia sweeps across cultures and continents, from the glamorous nightclubs of Shanghai to the harshness of Cold War Soviet Russia in the 1960s, from a desolate island in the Pacific Ocean to a new life in post-war Australia."

I highly recommend it, for yourself as well as mum.

View on fishpond: White Gardenia Books Alive Edition