Recently by Jody

I love Arkady Renko.  I love his quick mind and his Russian-ness.  While this is a story about murder and politics and Russia, it's also a story about Renko and how singular an individual he is in the middle of a society that outright punishes individuality.

I have read the first three of the four Arkady Renko books and I own the last of the set although I haVen't read it yet.  Truth be told, I don't want it to end, I'm not ready to say goodbye to him.  I didn't read the third book, Red Square, until the fourth book came out.  In starting the series at the beginning, I'm hoping to delay the end again.

Or, A Young Lady's Illustrated Primer

I don't know if I've picked up more on nanotechnology or if I just took my time when I read but this Neal Stephenson book made more sense when I read it this time around as well. At this rate, I'll be ready to have another run at the Quicksilver series

The best part of Stephenson's writing for me is the ensemble cast.  There are always a dozen people to follow around and everyone has at least three agendas on the go.  I also love to watch the way that all of the storylines converge.  This is another book with a tangible sense of pace that picks up as everyone draws closer to the endgame, always a good thing in my books.

I've been having a bit of a binge on my reading right now so I'm a little tapped out for commentary.  I'm also a little hungry for breakfast and, as I don't have a Matter Compiler in my kitchen to fill my order, I need to go and actually do something about breakfast.

A New Life In An Old Land

When my life gets a little crazy, I daydream about running away to Tuscany and starting my life from scratch.  I don't speak the language and I'm perpetually broke so it's a not a big risk (I'm sure my family is breathing a sigh of relief about that one) but I think about it.  While Marlena De Blasi will always be my go to author for these times, Mate is good to follow it with if it's a particularly tenacious time of trial.

Sometimes I cook something that tastes like Tuscany and (weather permitting) I open up the windows so I can hear the leaves in the courtyard (and ignore the busses on the street).  I like to read a book like this at those times too.

I like to read Neal Stephenson because I feel smart when I read Neal Stephenson. I feel smart and cool, much cooler than I actually am.  I get to roll out my cyberpunk cred (earned back in my teens when I went through a wicked bout of insomnia that lasted for a few years and battled it with copies of Omni magazine.)  I  A friend gave me a copy of Cryptonomicon when he learned that I had been a code freak as a kid and from that point I was hooked.

I have read Snow Crash before.  With any other book, that would mean maybe a couple of hours reading but Stephenson's writing is pretty dense.  I noticed that I paid more attention to the hacker religion mythology sections and they made sense (yeah, I'm confessing that sometimes the book defeated me, I'm thinking that it had something to do with my skimming habit). Maybe I'm getting philosophical in my dotage ;D but it all hung together for me this time. 

I adore the hero... Hiro.  Hiro Protagonist, samurai hacker.  I saw a guy getting out of the pool at the Y yesterday that could have been him (you know, if he wasn't fictional).  Hot.  He's not that far off of my age in the book and he's finally starting to feel like a grown up.  It was like watching him put away childish things.

It'll probably be a few years before I read this one again but I've started another one of Stephenson's books on the right now.  It was a confusing one for me too.

Okay, I finished reading this awhile back and I really thought that I had already posted about it. In short, I loved it, I loved the whole experience. When I was younger, I read all of the James Bond books, he was just so cool, in the truest sense of the word. My favourite thing about James Bond was his flexibility and his ingenuity. His ability to think on the fly really because if there's one thing about those books, it's that there's always a jam to get out of. So, why am I writing about James Bond when this isn't an Ian Fleming book? Because Richard Hannay really brought him to mind. The short story, Hannay's a retired soldier that is finding retirement a little dull. He offers the city an ultimatum: provide a little excitement or I'm on the next ship out of here. When he gets home, he's approached by a mysterious neighbour who asks for his help in a matter of international espionage (when I'm bored, I prefer that a friend shows up for coffee). There is a secret cabal planning to assassinate the Greek Premier... maybe... but he doesn't really know the guy so he could be lying... or it could be an even bigger conspiracy... maybe. I'm not sure that any of it is completely laid bare but you do know pretty quickly that this business is serious as the mysterious neighbour is killed within the week and Hannay has to outrun both the villains (which may or may not be real) and the police who would like to know why there's a dead body in his room.

There was a tangible sense of pace to this book, you could feel the noose drawing tight around Hannay's neck at different times and it was a pleasure to watch him think so quickly on his feet (much like James Bond). The other common characteristic is the GIANT HORSESHOE THAT HE HAS UP HIS ASS (pardon the language). Not since James Bond have I seen a character that is so bloody LUCKY! At least he appreciates it, Richard Hannay has moments of great humour in his chase:

As I sat on the hillside, watching the tail-light dwindle, I reflected on the various types of crime I had now sampled.  Contrary to general belief, I was not a murderer, but I had become an unholy liar, a shameless imposter, and a highwayman with a marked taste for expensive motor-cars.

This after he carjacks a touring coupe being driven Marmaduke Jopley (and wouldn't that make a great name for a Bond villain?), the biggest boor that he had met in London.  So, a little grand theft auto, a little comeuppance, it's all good.  All of this from a book that barely clears 100 pages and apparently he stars in three more novels.

Hannay, Richard Hannay.  Doesn't really have the same ring to it even if Daniel Craig would have been great in the movie.

I bought this book on a whim because it's wee. Yeah, it's tiny and that was the deciding factor. I didn't want this book to end but, unfortunately, it's short and I felt almost melancholy when it ended. The setup is fairly simple. It is 1905 in Berne, Switzerland and Einstein is working on his paper outlining his theory about time while reviewing patent applications (and sometimes anonymously correcting them if he spots errors). He meets occasionally with his friend Besso but never tells him about the dreams he has every night about time and how people relate to it. The rest of the book reads like a diary with the telling of that night's dream. Okay, time is a huge concept and, I believe, one that we personally wrestle with even if we don't acknowledge the struggle.  This book reminded me, in a way, of Swift's Gulliver's Travels in that an outsider is able to observe a different society but manages to learn things about his own in the process.

The dreams themselves are, by definition, episodic but it feels like there is continuity because each dream examines the same subject:  In the dream of May 8, 1905, the date of the end of the world is known and the dream explores the possibilities of a world with an expiration date, how the people would treat each other as the day draws closer; June 2, 1905 brings a dream reminiscent of Benjamin Button, where time moves in reverse and people move from infirmity to youth.  This is followed on the next night by a dream in which people live the span of their lives in 24 hours.

My second favourite was the dream of May 10, 1905 where people choose a place to stop time in their lives, one neighborhood lives in the 15th century, a mother holds imaginary conversations with a young son who has long since grown to be a disappointment.  It sounded a little absurd until this passage:

Just now, a man in one of the houses below the mountains is talking to a friend.  He is talking of his school days at the gymnasium.  His certificates of excellence in mathematics and history hang on the walls, his sporting medals and trophies occupy the bookshelves.  Here, on a table, is a photograph of him as captain of the fencing team, embraced by other young men who have since gone to university, become engineers and bankers, gotten married.  There, in the dresser, his clothes from twenty years, the fencing blouse, the tweed pants now too close around the waist.  The friend, who has been trying for years to introduce the man to other friends, nods courteously, struggles silently to breath in the tiny room.

I think I went to school with that guy.  Lightman ends that dream with "The tragedy of this world is that everyone is alone.  For a life in the past cannot be shared with the present.  Each person who gets stuck in time gets stuck alone."  Rings true to me.

My favourite dream was May 15, 1905 (I swear,  I read more than just May and September) which is about a world where there is no continuous timeline, just still images.  The dream follows like an exercise in free association with pages of images, some detailed, some stark but still descriptive.  This reminded me of the second half of Michael Ende's Never Ending Story (which didn't find it's way into the movie, I might add).  Without going into details, Bastien goes to work in a mine where he spends all day pulling glass plates out of the rocks, each with a still image on it.  One day he picks up one that he vaguely recognizes and the readers learn that these images are collected memories frozen in time (seriously, read the book). 

This has gone on a little long but it was a great book for me.  One last thing, Berne has the best street names in the world:
Aarbergergasse
Brunngasshalde
Kramgasse
Spitalgasse
Bahnhofplatz
If I ever go to Berne, I'm buying a good map because there's no way I could ask anyone for directions.

Underground Desire and the Reinvention of Mass Culture

Okay here we go, I got this book off the discount table a couple of years ago (yeah, I love discount books, what of it?).  It has all of the things that I like in a discount book, the untrimmed edges so that you can't effectively flip through the pages, the bigger-than-a-paperback-but-smaller-than-a-hardcover-size, I love it!

Niedzviecki (hereafter referred to as Hal for obvious reasons) seems to know his stuff but this book was published in 2000 and I expected it to be really out of date, the general impression being that pop/mass culture moves too quickly to really pin down.  And, while he does spend a lot of time talking about 'zines, once I mentally substituted blogs, it all came back together. 

I kept getting the feeling though that I was supposed to find it all very relevant and eye-opening.  I didn't.  It was interesting enough and I'll cop to even seeing a little of myself in the book (although I think I'm a little old for it most days).  I guess it was nice to find out that others in the world work "stupid jobs" (his term, I like "shit jobs" (my term) a little better although "Joe jobs" was the best before someone indicated that he might be offended by that term) strictly because they're not required to think and can leave it behind at the end of the day, I can't say that I felt particularly proud of the company I was keeping.

It was a little cooler-than-thou at times but I could still relate.  Especially as he's a Canadian and, whenever he quoted Marshal McLuhan, I could remember the Canadian Heritage Minute about the man with his tidy suit and his moustache peering intently at the camera saying, "The medium is the message."  Hal should have cited the Log Drivers' Waltz to really pull me in though.

Call me naive. Call me a dreamer.  Call me a pie-eyed optimist.  I'll probably take it as a compliment.  I like to think that it's part of my charm.

I bought the book because I'm a raging foodie and love to read about food when I'm not actually cooking, eating or browsing at my local butcher shop (hey, some people collect stamps.  Oops, I do that too, never mind.)  I feel like good food can contain all of the best parts of life, love, sex, laughter, luck, joy, awe, and fun.  Sorry, I'm just waxing rhapsodic (and a gold star sticker to whoever can gues what movie that line is from).

This book is about Esther (one of my favourite female Biblical names by the way.  Weldon's Esther has nothing else in common with Queen Esther).  Her husband has an affair with his secretary who then leaves him for his son.  Esther's response is to retire to a dirty basement studio and start eating, watching television and reading science fiction novels.  I'm not knocking the dive into food and books, I've been known to go on the occasional Harlequin romance/potato chip bender myself but her determination to stay there drove me absolutely up the wall. It's just, in my world, the occasional culinary disaster just helps you to appreciate the (also occasional) culinary triumph.  In Esther's world, it's an excuse to live on canned soup and frozen fish sticks.

I've read reviews of this book and they seem to be a collection of "witty" and "triumphant".   I hated it.  I really hated it.  I hated almost every moment of reading it.  I hated every character save one (I think I only liked her in comparison to everyone else).  I hated that I spent money on it.  I liked that I got it off the cheap table at the bookstore.

365 days, 524 recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen: How One Girl Risked Her Marriage, Her Job, and Her Sanity to Master the Art of Living

I owed Joe an apology after reading this book (past tense because I've already delivered it).  I had ridden him pretty hard about what I had classified as "stunt" books.  While I still maintain that the best ones are about challenges that people undertook without the book deal in place already, I do have to admit that a good stunt can still resonate pretty deeply.

I'm pretty sure that I saw Julie Powell doing a guest judge spot on Iron Chef America and she seemed like she'd be cool to eat with.  Probably cool to cook with too.

I found out that this book is being made into a movie to be released in 2009 starring Amy Adams.  I'm really ambivalent about this.  There's a growing number of movies that are based on "stunt" (sorry, Julie) books (mainly thinking of Yes Man) and, while I'm happy that movies are turning to print for story ideas again, I can't help but feel disappointed when a book that I enjoyed is adapted.  To be honest though, there are scenes in this book that I can see really well on screen.  I don't think that I'd see the movie but there weren't nearly enough explosions in the book to make it a movie that I would enjoy.

I personally love the process of cooking, I'm fascinated by arcane knowledge and tempted by complexity so I was right there with her when she contemplated a five page recipe.  Unfortunately for me, I was also right there with her when she got the news of Julia's death in 2004 (I remembered it). 

Ultimately, her imaginary version of Julia Child is pretty close to my imaginary version of Julia Child and I'm glad that she threw herself at this challenge.  Challenge is a better word than stunt, don't you think?

At Home in Umbria

In my imaginary extended adopted family, Marlena de Blasi is an honorary fairy godmother.  She is my hero, my Auntie Mame.  I swear I'm not a stalker, I've just never met anyone else who was just as enamored of rosemary.

How A Worldwide Movement Is Challenging the Cult of Speed

I don't know if it's cheating but I've read this book once before. In my defense (and perhaps ironically), I devoured it the first time that I read it. This time around, I only read it on the bus to and from work and, as I only work two evenings a week, it was a leisurely read to say the least.

It worked. I've always galloped through books and, I'll admit, I miss some details BUT it does allow me to revisit books because there are always new things to be discovered. This felt much different and, dare I say it, better (I whispered that last part).  I actually found myself thinking about the book between readings, pondering even.  I had time to look at my own life and spot the places that my speedy priorities were a little out of whack.  I think that it was a lesson that I needed to learn because, while I finished the book with the same list of good intentions, I've had a much easier time hanging on to them.  It feels like they've sunk in a little deeper this time and I'm inclined to believe that it was the prolonged reading and not the fact that it was a repeat.

Actually, this was the book that convinced me to throw into this One Hour thing a little more whole-heartedly.  I used to get so much pleasure from reading and, over the years, have pared it down to nothing but non-fiction, usually educational (or at least informative) books.  I'm looking forward to the rest of it.