Bookish Butch – Page 90

The Charm of Waiting

When I visited the Grande Bibliotheque on Sunday,

I wanted to find two books I have read much about,

especially on some of the Brit book blogs,

The Haunted Bookshop and Parnassus On Wheels,

by Christopher Morley.

I couldn’t find either of them.

I looked in the English language novels and in the mysteries.

Couldn’t find them.

So I waited my turn and looked them up on the computer,

**side note : I love the digital age but, I really miss card catalogues, I believe it is more esthetics than practicality, the beautiful wooden drawers and typed cards- Gorgeous. **

they were there,

in a one volume compilation.

Cool,

so I scroll down to get the call number,

and then I notice the notation which roughly translates as,

in storage.

I walk over to the information desk,

and ask the young lady if I can take it out.

Of course, she says, as long as my file is free of fines,

it is.

I can fill out a form and in approximately fourteen days,

I will be notified of the book’s arrival and,

have four days to pick it up.

So we filled out the form and,

I should be reading them sometime in January.

I was a little bit disappointed,

I had hoped to read them over Christmas,

but, January is probably better,

all bookshops are sort of haunted in January,

mine is no exception.

The point of this story,

and there is one,

in the many years that I have used libraries,

this is a first.

I have never had a book brought out of storage.

Does this mean I am hopelessly out of style?

Perhaps.

But, what I really think it means is that,

I have become more picky about my reading and,

more patient.

A few years ago,

I would have skipped the waiting,

and picked it up at a bookstore or ordered it online.

Spent too much money.

Now I prefer to wait and,

chance picking it up used or borrow it from the library.

I no longer have the ambition of owning thousands of books,

been there, done that, moved them too many times.

I want to read them.

Part of the fun has become anticipation,

book foreplay.

Kinky.

Well…

Later girls

2010, quite a year, My top ten reads

The trees look like they have been painted white.

Beautiful.

It’s the time of year,

where you look back on your year.

What was amazing, what sucked.

Every year has it’s ups and downs.

But, 2010 was really,

a hell of a roller coaster ride.

The winter was quiet,

although as I recall,

I started 2010 with a terrible cold.

Business was slow all winter,

and then in late April we had a snow storm,

April 27 Th,

on the same day,

my mom had a heart attack.

It was one of the scariest things,

I have ever lived through.

She’s fine.

They unclogged her artery,

and she seems better than ever.

The whole procedure took forty minutes,

she was hospitalised for a few days.

Puts perspective, on what’s important.

In March, I started this blog,

I started really working on it in May.

It has been instrumental in,

helping me voice what I feel about things,

sure mostly books,

but,

also,

life.

Mine in particular but also,

life in general.

Through the blog,

I have met many like minded people,

people who care about,

what I care about.

Book bloggers are an interesting bunch.

Those of you who have been with me a while,

know that I dubbed this summer,

the summer of hell.

I learned a few things about myself,

and I will not dwell on them.

Life goes on…

I met some amazing people this year,

and solidified some relationships, as well.

I read some fantastic and,

not so fantastic books this year.

Here are my most memorable 2010 reads:

1- Stone Butch Blues-Leslie Feinberg- A book everyone should read- About pain, suffering, difference but, mostly about resilience and being true to yourself-Wow.

2-Bastard Out Of Carolina-Dorothy Allison- For it’s voice and it’s truth- Both ugly and beautiful.

3-Last Night in Twisted River-John Irving-Because he is now, and will always be, my favorite.

4.Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress-Dai Sijie-It made me laugh, it made me cry. I wanted to start all over again once I had finished. A book about people surviving insanity, with the help of books. Stupendous.

5-Aquamarine-Carol Anshaw- Quiet, original, and smart- What if?

6-Small Island-Andrea Levy-Strong female characters-An unforgettable story- The Second World War, one of the most interesting settings.

7-Julie and Julia-Julie Powell-It made me feel better about my life, and made me want to follow my dreams.

8-A Death In the Family-James Agee-How unfair life can be-How much love and family, mean.

9-Coffee Will Make You Black-April Sinclair-Coming of Age at it’s best.

10-The Millennium Trilogy-Stieg Larsson-Because Lisebeth Salander is a complex beautiful character-She has more layers than an onion.

Well that’s mine.

All over the place as usual:-)

What’s yours?

Did you read any of these?

Do you agree?

Disagree?

I’d love to hear what you think.

I read less this year.

Slower and better.

Later girls

Library visit

Today is Sunday.

Grey and cloudy.

No hockey last night.

Today, I’m going to the library.

Most of my recent library books,

were enjoyable and/or informative.

I loved my Somerset Maugham,

Creatures Of Circumstances.

I learned a few things,

from Genderqueer.

Some of this information,

will take me a while to digest.

I found the personal accounts particularly poignant.

I’m glad I read it.

An important book with valuable insight.

I recommend it highly.

I haven’t finished,

just barely,

started,

The Country Of Pointed Firs,

I’m going to renew it,

and try to finish over the holidays.

The Daphne Du Maurier,

My Cousin Rachel,

couldn’t get into it,

too Gothic for my taste.

Off to the library,

will let you know what I get 🙂

**************************

I’m Back.

I picked up what I believe to be,

some good loot.

Last week,

I read a Robert B. Parker,

from his Spenser series,

it was a delight,

took me out of both my book and emotional slump.

So I got another,

Pastime,

The front cover boasts:

The secrets of Spenser’s past -revealed at last!

The size was right and I couldn’t resist that line,

so into the book bag it went.

I have heard wonderful thing’s about Penelope Fitzgerald’s,

The Bookshop,

I can never resist bookish books with bookish titles,

again a tiny book.

I also got Vile Bodies by Evelyn Waugh.

I started reading Brideshead Revisited last night,

and I’m already captivated,

so,

the little Waugh with the intriguing title,

another natural for the book bag.

They are all small books,

easy to carry and hopefully,

easy to get through,

over the hectic holiday period.

Well,

I’m going to read now.

Later girls

The International, an appreciation

http://queercanadablogs.blogspot.com/

Check out this blog,

it links and lists Queer blogs of all types in Canada.

I am proud to have been included in such interesting and diverse company.

Well, I finished The International by Glenn Patterson.

A good chatty novel.

The action takes place on one Saturday,

in the International Hotel’s Blue Bar.

It tells the story of the people who work in the bar,

as well as it’s patrons.

A truthful funny book,

about a Belfast that no longer exists.

The very next day,

The Northern Ireland Civil Rights Association,

would be founded,

in the very same Hotel and bar.

It would mark the start of a quarter century of bloody violence.

The IRA era, the troubles.

What struck me most about this book,

is how ordinary peoples lives are affected,

by political upheavals and violence.

This is not a political or a violent novel,

it’s about real people with real lives and real jobs.

It is about the whimsy and despair of everyday.

It’s beauty and it’s pettiness.

One line ran through my mind frequently as I read it:

There, but for the Grace of God, go we all.

The late sixties were a time of violent protest and upheaval.

Students all over Europe and North America,

were attempting to change the world.

Nationalism and it’s violent manifestations,

were very present in my hometown and my province.

Quebec’s French Catholic majority,

were very much a colonised people.

We were also under the thumb of the Catholic Church.

What is known as our Quiet revolution had started in the early sixties.

With the founding of necessary institutions such as a Ministry of Education.

Some revolutionaries inspired by the Irish, Algerians, Cubans,

took up arms.

They believed things were not moving fast enough.

Bombs were set off in mailboxes in bourgeois English neighborhoods,

and in National Defense recruitment centers,

these were considered symbols of British imperialism and American Capitalism.

Our version of the IRA was the FLQ,

The Front De Liberation Du Québec.

A British diplomat and Quebec cabinet minister were kidnapped.

Sympathy ran high for the revolutionaries,

until Minister Pierre Laporte was assassinated.

Quebec society did not become involved in long drawn out bloodshed,

that would have torn our country apart,

as it did Northern Ireland.

Ultimately,

laws were put in place to protect the French fact in North America.

To achieve a better equilibrium.

The response has not been unanimous,

and did cause political instability.

Some would even say,

the pendulum swung too much to the other side.

But,

today Quebec is a more stable and prosperous society.

We have our problems,

many in fact,

but we are no longuer,

the poorest and least educated part of Canada,

we were up until the mid-seventies.

On a par with Salazar’s Portugal.

After twenty five years,

the IRA and the British government ceased fire.

I don’t mean to draw to close a paralell,

just to say,

talking and laws are a better solution.

This book made me feel for the people of Belfast,

and how brave it sometimes is to simply live your life.

Later girls

**I make no apology for violence. Oppression does however, lead to it**

Of Grinches and Beagles and Tradition.

It is unbelievably cold outside.

Frigid, windy.

I went Christmas shopping yesterday,

I only had the one person left on my list,

my ex’s mother.

She’s a lovely woman but,

she is hell to shop for.

You ask her what she would like and she says,

hand cream,

all she ever wants is hand cream.

It’s enough to drive a butch to drink:-)

I am sure you all have someone like her on your list.

Last night,

I watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas,

on television.

I have probably seen it 35 times,

been watching it since I was a little kid.

Along, with a Charlie Brown Christmas,

wouldn’t feel like Christmas without them.

We always watched them as a family,

all three of us,

giggling.

Whenever I see it,

The Grinch,

I hear my dad saying along with the Grinch,

Roast beast is a feast I can’t stand in the least.

He always said that when we had roast beef,

it never got tired.

You miss those things at Christmas,

reminds you of all you have and all you’ve lost.

Don’t mind me,

Christmas makes me nostalgic,

or it could be that Grinches, Beagles and,

Idealists like my man Linus,

are irresistible.

I’m not quite sure:-)

Tomorrow a review of The International.

Later girls

Happened upon in a book slump

Wow, it’s really coming down out there.

Cotton Ball snow,

pretty.

The Habs lost last night,

second in a row.

They lost to Toronto,

that hurts.

In a effort to get out of my book slump,

I read a Robert B Parker,

that was lying around the bookstore.

The Professional, a Spencer novel.

I had never read any Parker,

I do however,

remember the character from a television show,

Spencer For Hire,

shows you how old I am.

Spencer is a private detective in Boston.

I like detective novels.

The one’s I really like are,

the Sara Paretsky V.I. Warshawski novels,

to a lesser extent the Sue Grafton Kinsey Milhone’s.

The old fashioned hard drinking,

macho stuff is not really my thing.

The Parker wasn’t like that.

It is very masculine,

in the sense that Spencer is a guy,

a guy who used to box and is a private eye.

He is also a literate, mature, funny man.

His love interest is a mature beautiful woman,

a Dr of Psychology from Harvard.

Susan is also a fun character.

I loved this novel.

I zipped right through it,

not bored for an instant.

I intend to take some out of the library.

Parker wrote many,

sadly there will be no more,

he passed away.

Still, there should be enough to last a while.

Once I finished the Parker,

I was poking around looking for something else.

A few weeks ago,

I had put aside for a customer,

The International by Glenn Patterson.

This customer,

one of my favourites,

likes short story collections,

and obscure British, Canadian, Irish … novels.

For some reason she passed on The International.

I looked at it again,

for me.

On the back, Colm Toibin describes Patterson as:

One of the best contemporary Irish novelists.

Here is the jacket description:

January 1967, An ordinary Saturday in the Blue Bar of the International Hotel In Belfast. While 18-year-old Danny pulls pints, he contemplates his future and the bar’s varied clientele. But, ordinary Saturday’s like this are almost over. On the next day the hotel will host the inaugural meeting of the Northern Ireland Civil Rights Association, and the slide towards the troubles will begin.

Sounded good to me,

I love fiction about The Troubles.

It seems to me,

that I have seen mostly movies about The IRA era.

Cal, In The Name Of The Father, Some Mother’s Son, The Crying Game.

All really hard, dark, and piss you off type movies.

Makes you angry at the waste and the injustice.

It does however make for good fiction.

This novel seems to be just what I need right now.

Well, have a lovely Sunday.

Later girls

Sustaining Protein—Wanted

I’m officially in a book funk.

I mean I’m reading,

I always read,

it’s what I do,

it’s just that,

I’m not being absorbed by anything.

I have been reading Somerset Maugham’s,

Creatures of Circumstance,

I got it out of the library.

A series of fabulous short stories,

just right for a bus ride to work,

smart, engaging but, short,

they are short stories, after all.

I need something meaty.

Not broccoli which I hate but,

eat,

it’s good for me!

Broccoli reading is,

a book I know I should read,

one that would expand my horizons,

teach me something,

or that I could brag I got through,

War and Peace, Ulysses, Moby Dick,

Philip Roth, which I loathed but read,

broccoli,

several pounds of broccoli.

I don’t want to read cotton candy either,

sweet, filling but,

bad for your teeth.

Janet Evanovich, Sophie Kinsella,

that kind of stuff,

it takes you for a ride,

in a familiar and enjoyable locale,

that’s the sugar,

but,

ultimately you want something different,

more sustaining,

a Butch cannot live on sugar alone,

you need to maintain,

your bones, muscles, grey matter.

I am longing for meat,

John Irving, Sarah Waters,

different cuts but,

meat.

Complex and delicious,

protein.

Books that take you in,

make you laugh,

make you cry,

make you think,

leave you satisfied and filled.

The World According to Garp,

Fingersmith,

All The King’s Men,

Small Island.

Not too big not too small,

just right.

I suppose the protein could be,

beans, lentils, eggs,

even tofu.

Aquamarine, Biting the Apple, Coffee Will Make you Black,

books I read and loved this year,

all lean vegetable protein,

all wonderful.

I don’t know if this is making any sense to any of you.

Perhaps someone could suggest something.

But, ultimately reading,

like life is a solitary journey.

Later girls

Clouds? Sure but, blessings more.

It’s cold, damn cold!!

I guess my blood hasn’t thickened, yet.

Today was the kind of day,

where you think,

Why did I get up?

One good thing,

it’s over.

Next.

So, the holiday season being upon us,

I have been pondering and reflecting,

I can hear you thinking,

BB don’t ponder so much,

chill.

You know you’re right,

but,

this is positive pondering,

I promise.

The bookstore was practically deserted today,

on the radio,

White Christmas.

It reminded me of this song from the movie

When I’m worried and I can’t sleep
I count my blessings instead of sheep
And I fall asleep counting my blessings

Sometimes, I forget to count my blessings.

In no particular order these are things, people, that I’m grateful for:

mom,

the dude,

my ex… friend extraordinaire,

the Habs,

good hair,

straight teeth,

being bi-cultural,

gift of gab,

my blog,

books,

my Blundstones,

beautiful women,

Quentin Tarantino,

beer,

my godson,

his brothers and sister,

a wise owl confidant,

hot showers,

pickles,

a hot writer with espresso eyes,

friends with an inflatable bed,

plaid,

coffee,

being born in the 20th century,

my grandparents,

bagels,

John Coltrane,

moleskin notebooks,

Autumn,

duvets,

The New Yorker,

Linus Van Pelt,

baseball caps,

Broadway musicals,

Emma Goldman,

boxer shorts,

Bruce Sprinsteen,

Ste-Catherine Street,

Coca-cola,

2B pencils,

greasy Chinese,

self-deprecation,

thundershowers,

John Donne,

Bach,

Apple pie,

Kate Winslett,

the St-Lawrence,

blue skies,

fig newtons,

jeans,

Julia Roberts,

glasses.

And on and on.

When I feel rotten,

I remember the world has and or had these wonderful things or people in it.

Later girls,

keep your chin up

Flannel? At Christmas!!

It’s snowing,

really snowing.

From inside,

it’s pretty.

Mom and I were mushing through it today.

Shopping.

Christmas is coming.

I can’t believe it but,

I’m not finished,

still,

most of it is done,

I got my little nephew a fantastic t-shirt.

He is a cat freak,

but most cat stuff I find is geared to girls,

not that I approve of gender stereotyping

not, this t-shirt,

my friends.

Black with an uber realistic drawing of a cat,

wearing an astronaut’s helmet.

He’s gonna freak with joy.

I know I did,

and it was only ten bucks.

I would have got one myself but,

they only had them on the kids side.

Life is so unfair sometimes… 🙂

I settled for ordering a new Plaid flannel.

Dress flannel,

Christmas oblige.

No, No,

even I,

don’t wear flannel at Christmas.

One of my few exceptions,

along with job interviews.

I usually do basic black,

channeling Johnny Cash,

except for my boots,

you all know I never do black boots.

I like a little bit of mismatching,

my nod to anarchy,

and style,

you got have style 🙂

Later girls

*The little guy is not my nephew, I have no brothers or sisters. He’s my cousins son, one of three and a little baby girl.

**Next post, books, I’ve been thinking of what to bring to the bunker.

In Memory of Fourteen Women

This is the first blog post I wrote, about the polytechnique massacre, I wrote this,in 2010.

December 6 th,

is the anniversary of one of the worst events in Montreal history,

the massacre at Polytechnique.

Fourteen young women were murdered,

by a young man who hated feminists.

I remember that early december evening in 1989,

like it was yesterday.

They were gunned down for wanting to be engineers.

In a place of higher learning.

The city was shocked and stunned and numb.

Twenty one years later,

we are still coming to terms with these events.

How could this happen in our city,

in our province,

in our country.

Canada,

not a fundamentalist country.

Canada,

not a country where you can buy guns,

at Walmart.

Canada, the True North Strong and Free.

In the last few years,

the Harper government,

has neutered gun registration laws,

in an attempt to placate it’s base.

You want to own guns,

fine,

Registered guns save lives.

This is not my opinion nor that of feminist groups,

it is the opinion of law enforcement throughout the country.

When police arrive at the scene of domestic violence,

if they can check beforehand on registered guns in the house,

they can prevent deaths,

of the women who are the victims of this domestic situation,

and of the policemen who intervene.

Gun control and gun registration help.

Those women who were slaughtered would be in their forties today,

like me.

I remember them,

and long for the day when we will all be equal,

all over the world.

African little girls becoming doctors or nurses,

Chinese daughters cherished.

We, all of us,

must do better.

For all our sons and daughters.

Later girls