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Reading the End Posts

Things that are nice about this week

1. Yesterday morning I killed the m.f. mosquito that kept me from comfortable sleep the last, like, three nights. I wanted to scream war chants of triumph. I hate that mosquito. It was insatiable. I am waiting two more weeks and then I am taking my window unit out of my window and having the super install a screen. Otherwise I know that more mosquitoes will come. It’s been rainy all week. These goddamn mosquitoes. 2. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful Zibilee has told me the title of a book that is the exact book I want to read right now. Wonderful…

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The Shadow of the Moon, M. M. Kaye

The review in a moment. But first, thank you to whatever lovely person nominated me for Best Eclectic Book Blog for Book Blogger Appreciation Week. Whoever you are, you are so very sweet and kind. You can’t see me, but I am making a heart shape with my forefingers and thumbs, to indicate that I Appreciate you too. On Labor Day weekend, I went to stay with my relatives. Legal Sister came too. It was so pleasant. I left on Friday afternoon and spent the weekend lying around reading The Shadow of the Moon (in the hammock when sunny, on…

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The End of Everything, Megan Abbott

Have you ever had the experience of reading a book and being sure throughout most of the book that you know what’s going on, and then you get to the end and you realize that you actually have no idea if you really know what the author is talking about? That was my experience with The End of Everything. As the denouement unfolded, I stopped saying “Yup, yup, yup, yup,” to imaginary Megan Abbott in my head and instead said, “Wait, what were you talking about?” The End of Everything is about a thirteen-year-old girl called Lizzie whose best friend…

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Review: The Little Ottleys, Ada Leverson

If I were offered a chance to meet anyone in all of history, I would choose Oscar Wilde. If I were offered a chance to have a lifelong friendship with anyone in history, I might instead choose Oscar Wilde’s friend Ada Leverson. Ada Leverson had a beautiful name, gave good parties, liked her privacy, made bitchy-but-not-too-bitchy remarks, and was very good to Oscar Wilde even after he was Disgraced. He called her Sphinx because she was mysterious. She paid half his bail and went to meet him when he got out of prison. I love her. I also identify with…

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Review: Survivor, Chuck Palahniuk

When my work book club met to discuss Empire Falls (which, oops, I never reviewed), one of our members expressed her dissatisfaction with the low level of sexiness in any of the books we have read so far, and her intention to choose for us something sexy like Anais Nin for the next book club book. Instead she ended up selecting three very unsexy options, of which we selected — I suspect — the least sexy option of all, Chuck Palahniuk’s Survivor. I have discovered that I have very, very little patience with ennui in literature and film. If a…

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Review: An Accident in August, Laurence Cossé

My half-assed, unenthusiastic effort to make myself love books in translation continues apace. Yes, I am aware that it is a very very half-assed effort indeed. No, I would probably not have done anything about it had not Europa contacted me to offer me a copy of An Accident in August for review. (Hey FTC! There’s a disclosure encased in that last sentence, if you care to look for it.) On a late night in August 1997, Lou has a minor car accident. Minor for her: the car that sideswipes her crashes spectacularly, and Lou speeds off in terror. The…

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Review: The Magician King, Lev Grossman

I will be honest and say that when Viking contacted me to offer me an early copy of The Magician King (thanks, Viking!) (FTC, take note), and I said yes, that was about the extent of the effort I was willing to put forth to acquire the sequel to The Magicians. Had I not received it in the post, I would most likely have seen The Magician King on the shelf at the library a few months from now, and checked it out then. I liked The Magicians, but I did not want to marry The Magicians (a maneuver that…

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Review: The Road Home, Rose Tremain

How long it took me to figure out that the reason I didn’t know what country the protagonist was from was that the country the protagonist was from was never named and may quite well have been intended to be fictional: Two-thirds. Two-thirds of the book. You know why that is? Because I am dumb. The Road Home was a gift from the lovely Fiona of The Book Coop. Fiona’s note said “It did cross my mind briefly to buy you Rose Tremain’s whole works”, and y’all, I have to say I am in great sympathy with this position. If…

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