With Thanksgiving out of the way, I can finally admit I’ve been thinking about Christmas for some time. It’s so much better of a holiday. Our tree is up, our gifts are wrapped, our carols are playing, and our candles are burning. Andrea gave us all small T-candles last year themed on classic books. So we’ve got the scents of “Wood Between the Worlds,” “A Walk to Netherfield,” and “Marilla’s Kitchen” to accompany our activities. In practical terms that’s the scents of musty ferns, old lady’s bathroom, and boiled apples.
The candles got me sorting books—classics, new ones, and even my own publications. I’ve read a lot of great new books this year (got to put up a list sometime) and the classics—well, I’ll get to that in a minute.
LWW, Silver Chair, Horse and His Boy—ditch. Now there’s a surprise, there was a time when I lived in that book. But then, that was 20 years ago. Voyage of the Dawn Treader—not sure what’s up with this one.
The Secret Garden—in. I love all versions, although the 90s one doesn’t quite have the same tone. A Little Princess—out. I don’t know what I ever saw in this tedious, slow-paced tale of a young girl’s misery.
Oscar Wilde—out. I’ve always loved his humor about pompous, complacent people, but recently his literary presence has a morbid tone. I know, he did write Salome, but there’s a lot more to him—well, apparently not anymore
Reexamining The Pickwick Papers as I work on Consuela, not sure if I still like it. Our Mutual Friend—OUT, OUT, OUT. Am considering digging into The Old Curiosity Shop.
The Hobbit back in—I read it one time as a child and thought it was boring and silly. But it’s grown on me. Two lovely old hardcover B&N volumes of FOTR and TTT are locked up in the attic. Something about those white covers drives me nuts. But I have two tiny old paperbacks, the ones I grew up on, and I do keep them around.
Shakespeare is mostly out the window. There’s barely such a thing as “Shakespeare” in the old sense because the plays are for such different people. I do still like Much Ado About Nothing (the 90s movie—the play less) and As You Like It and Henry V. When my dad was fanatically into Henry V, I got more than a little tired of it. So I’m puzzled as to why it’s still here.
I can’t seem to get rid of Sherlock. I think it’s extremely dull and a bit ridiculous. I haven’t enjoyed any episode I’ve ever seen of it and Benedict Cumberbatch mildly gets on my nerves. I have an Oxford magnet from Europe that seems to be the same sort of thing and I can’t GET RID OF IT. I tried and it CAME BACK. (Kind of like Hulk when he tried to kill himself.) . . .
And there will be more updates.