Model Library Patron Movie Scene

Scene: Local Regional Library.

Players: Angry looking middle aged librarian, puckered lips a must; and serious, but pleasant, library patron.

Model Patron, handing Annie Dillards' An American Childhood to librarian: I would also like to renew a copy of Graham Greene short stories I have checked out.

Librarian, anger seemingly melting away as takes books: I would be delighted to!

MP: Oh dear! I think I forgot to return a vhs of "Brideshead Revisited." Will you please check that for me?

L: Certainly. (pause) No, the Graham Greene is the only item not returned. I have renewed it for you. Have a pleasant day. (Handing books to LP.)

MP: You do the same. Thank you.

L: No. Thank you.

I hate Thursday nights during the strike even more then I hate Wednesday nights.

SO, I was ready to quit life, move to Brooklyn, and become a waitress this afternoon because I was tired, hungry, and there was no good tv on tonight. And damn it, I need fluffy, dromcoms to balance reading anything with value. Which means, not only do I have nothing to watch, I have nothing to read as I have already exhausted my stock pile of fluffy fiction that I am not embarrassed to rent/buy used and therefore, I am stuck with Gilead.

And Gilead should be right up my alley - a book that goes no where and is really for the word lover who is like, f* the story, tell me more about the sun set. I am all about a novel that has no complication, and ends when the author comes to a deeper point like, "The seashell glistened as the tide tussled it through the sand. I knew then, that I was the sea shell, and I was happy." What does the author mean by this? I don't know, but I like the word tussled.

With no near end to the writer's strike, I am stuck with only books like this where I must actually think because they have no obvious complication - never mind having a resolution - and are teaching me some Great Life Lesson.

But then I found this: http://mindyephron.blogspot.com/

I am saved from a deep, thought provoking life!! Because all I really want in life are predictable plots that involve scruffy, but smart and adorable, boys who happen to shop at the same grocery store as the cute modern day girl with the sassy hair; champagne brunches; and, of course, shoes with giant bows.

Over reading, or subtle details missed

Things I did not notice, or think about, when I read The Giver in middle school, in high school, and then again in college:

- The pilot in training was released. Which means he was killed.

- I began most mornings as a student, and most mornings as a teacher, chanting the morning anthem and singing a patriotic hymn.

- "Hair like Fiona's must drive them (genetic scientists) crazy." Is Lois Lowry commenting on genetic engineering, or giving a scientific reason for the color blind society? And if it is the former, is The Messenger a comment on immigration?

- Jonas-bonus and Lily-billy. Coincidental nicknames? Or letter dictated by family?

- Was Rosemary the Giver's genetic daughter or community daughter?

- Does the baby Roberto and the released elder Roberto (or the baby Caleb and the lost four year old Caleb) share the same genes? Are they genetically the same person?

- Is my Grandfather's assisted living facility really a House of the Old?

Forced Feed

I really want to read it. It sounds funny. It is about food. It takes place in my favorite places - New York City and Italy. It is non fiction (an admitted turn off) BUT written in the lyrical casualness of fiction. I really, honestly want to read it.

But I haven't. I have tried. I read a bit before bed, a bit before I read the paper instead, a bit while I brush my teeth. My bits add up to 40 pages.

Maybe it is not just right? Maybe it is just flat? Maybe I am not in the right place to appreciate it's flashback style? No, it is just a book club book. I really, honestly, and truly want to read them. It is just that my inability to meet deadlines is infecting my literary social life.

Out of Order: The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls

The narrative reads more like a serious of occasions that create a life, less like a series of events that create a complication.

Maybe as children we do not see the complications that impact our life. The drunk father, the lack of money, the fights with neighborhood ruffians - that is Just the Way Life Is. Even as adults reflecting back, do we, should we, break apart and dissect our childhood? The why did this happen? And how did it come to this point? Or should we just accept our childhood experiences at face value - this is what happened, this is who was there, this is what she did, he did, I did.

Jeannette Walls presents her childhood at face value - this is what happened, this is who was there. She does not reflect on the why, the cause and effect, the ramifications of her childhood. Just on What Was.

Her memoir reads as a series of vignettes. While the vignettes flow chronologically, they stand alone, enjoyable on their own merits. I can skip from her childhood in Arizona to her life in New York, and still enjoy the lyrical flow of her words and the comfortable rhythm of her storytelling. Read out of order, her story is not lost. It reads like a new friend, telling me about their life in piece mail. Recounting childhood memories as she remembers them. I do not need to know that this event lead to that event. I already know the finished product - I am reading the resolution.