Category: Book Love

Not reviews or appreciations. A categorie where I discuss my love of reading or of books.

Queer Between the Covers

Kind of a cloudy one,

today,

still cooler,

I’m grateful for that,

yep, grateful.

Haven’t written much about books,

in a while,

still savouring my John Irving.

Next weekend,

I’m taking Saturday off,

and,

going to the Queer Book Fair:-)

My friend Francoys,

the anarchist,

in tow.

Isn’t the poster amazing?? Has a real butch vibe to it don’t you think??<wink> Love the name, although, I’m pretty confident most of the attendees will be queer not just between the covers.

I know there will be representatives,

of all the Queer presses,

as well as some zine artists,

it will be in ‘le village’

maybe we’ll have a beer afterwards.

Since L’Androgyne went under,

years ago,

we hardly have anywhere to buy,

gay books,

I think this is especially true,

of lesbian fiction.

So if you happen to be in Montreal,

on Saturday August 18 TH,

maybe I’ll see you there,

I’ll be the butch with the short hair,

accompanied by a jolly rotund,

gentleman anarchist.

Have a good one girls:-)

Later,

BB

 

 

Live Free or Die

It’s a beautiful,

Sunday morning,

sort of hot,

not blindingly,

thank you,

Goddess:-)

I’ve been reading a book,

that was laying around,

the bookstore,

a Canadian classic,

of sorts,

the kind I might,

have read in college,

Swamp Angel,

by Ethel Wilson.

Buried In Print,

wrote about it last year,

she loved it,

and she was right,

she has good taste.

Had I read this book,

in college,

I probably,

wouldn’t have,

appreciated,

the sparseness,

the exactitude,

of the prose,

the language,

or the seemingly,

simple plot.

I’m only a third,

of the way through,

and,

I know,

it will be one,

of my top books,

of the year.

It’s about being true,

to yourself,

quietly,

without shouting,

from roof tops,

very reserved,

very Canadian,

in an old-fashioned way,

when being Canadian,

at least in our literature,

meant,

yearning for freedom,

not flashily,

just going about our,

business-ly.

Reminds me of,

the New Hampshire,

motto,

Live Free Or Die,

no chains but,

reponsibility.

I wonder if any of this making sense,

to any of you.

I don’t think Canadians,

or anybody else,

for that matter,

were great then,

and,

are crap now,

I just think,

the worls is very different,

and,

with all our means of,

communication,

our supposed freedoms,

are we really ‘free-er’ ?

I don’t know.

First let me state,

I didn’t live through,

the fifties,

so what do I know,

but,

it seems a time,

where a person,

could go off,

if well planned,

and,

executed,

and,

live their own life.

There were many,

societal,

religious,

and,

other,

constraints,

but,

there was the possibility,

of starting over.

Oddly enough,

today,

you can go anywhere in the world,

so much easier,

but,

the paper,

and,

cookie trail,

is easy to follow,

so dissapearing or,

starting over,

involves either,

lots of money,

to change your identity,

or a life of,

clandentistiny.

Does living in a world of instant messaging,

instant everything,

and,

it’s not my faultism,

mean it is harder,

to live by,

the New Hampshire motto,

or even,

To Thine Own Self Be True?

Not sure,

but,

the first third of Ethel Wilson’s,

book,

has got me thinking,

about that.

I’ll let you know my over all,

impression,

once I finish,

the last two thirds.

🙂

Have a great Sunday,

I’m off to a family BBQ,

to chill and eat,

and,

enjoy the joy,

and,

exuberance,

of my family.

Later girls,

BB

 

Imperative? Yeah, Imperative

I’m feeling,

a little bit,

lethargic,

could be the heat,

could be,

coming down,

after a blissful visit,

with my lady,

could be…

<sigh>

Lately,

I feel unmotivated,

it’s bound to pass,

must keep on keeping on:-)

When I’m tired,

lethargic,

hormonal,

I ask myself,

too many,

questions,

I hear yeah, ‘But BB how is that different from usual?

You know,

maybe it isn’t,

maybe it is my lot,

to ask myself questions,

maybe,

it is everyone’s lot?

Am I being all I can be?

Am I making a difference?

I try,

but, …

Virginia Woolf’s A Room Of One’s Own,

has me reflecting,

on time,

on space,

on using,

my creative force,

my potential,

on reaching,

for,

….

Oh, I’m not sure…

One thing is sure,

fabulous book,

worth your time,

worth thinking about,

getting yourself,

a quiet place,

a room,

a spot you can go to physically,

not just in your mind,

to be with yourself,

to really hear,

what your heart,

what your mind,

what,

you,

are telling ,

you.

Sometimes,

the busyness,

of everyday,

of earning a living,

of taking care of others needs,

and,

also just of wasted time,

gets you away,

from that,

quest,

journey,

to find,

you.

I was going to ask,

if you all feel that way,

but,

I know the answer is,

of course!

Let’s be good to ourselves,

it’s not selfish,

to need time to think,

to breathe,

to dream,

to stop,

it’s essential,

and,

imperative.

Later girls,

BB

 

 

 

On travel ??

What a glorious morning it is,

sunny, cool, blue blue sky.

I’m at home,

Thursday morning,

mom’s in charge,

at the bookstore.

I’ve had breakfast,

Great grains cereal with extra raisins and soy milk, I’m so middle aged- the Dude looks hopefully at the bowl and when I let him have the dregs , he looks at me, disappointed, puzzled and, I think, a little grossed out. He doesn’t speak human, but, if he did, I’m pretty sure he’s be saying “you like this shit?”- In point of fact- I do, a Franciscan monk breakfast, for the twenty-first century:-)

It’s my birthday next week,

I’ll be forty-seven,

and,

three days later,

I’m getting my,

buzz cut for Cancer:-)

Should be an interesting week,

if you factor in the fact,

that mom has picked that week,

to have the kitchen painted,

busy, busy, bald:-)

I got my new John Irving,

yesterday,

hot of the press.

I ordered something else,

in order to avoid,

the shipping charges,

a Helene Hanff book

(she of 84 Charing Cross Road fame)

it’s called,

Apple Of My Eye,

all about Helene’s New York,

a sort of a guide book,

it’s delightful,

as all her books are,

feel like you are right there with her,

sharing a Martini and a cigarette,

nice.

The thing is,

I don’t travel,

never have,

it’s not in my,

temperament,

not part of my lifestyle,

I have no objections,

per se,

I just don’t.

Many people think that’s,

close minded?

reductive?

lacking an adventurous spirit?

all this might be true,

I don’t think it is,

but still,

what do I know?

🙂

I know,

that I like to travel in books,

with interesting people,

I used to like,

historical novels,

read tons of them,

not so much anymore.

Now, I like my fiction,

and,

memoirs,

not biography so much,

as,

memoir,

slices of lives,

traveling to New York,

with Helene,

watching Paris from my window,

with Colette,

and her cats,

having and raising a baby,

in France,

with Adam Gopnik,

drinks with Janet and Hem,

walking through the 1930’s garden at Sissinghurst,

with Vita and Virginia,

that’s what I like.

But,

since I now eat my cereal,

with soy milk,

maybe,

I’ll experience Shakespeare and Company,

for myself,

live,

with the sights and sounds.

If I can have my head shaved,

change my eating habits,

maybe I can learn to travel,

maybe,

you can teach a middle aged butch,

new tricks

WinK!!!

Later girls,

BB

 

Bla Bla about Butch and Pinterest

Well it’s,

Tuesday morning,

and,

for me,

it’s like Monday,

for most.

My shop is closed,

on Sundays and Mondays.

The weekend was lovely,

weather good,

business brisk,

good weekend,

in spite of the insane moon.

This morning,

it’s raining,

should make for a quiet day,

but,

who knows,

and,

hope does spring eternal.

I read a very enjoyable,

dyke novel,

on the weekend,

gift from my lady:-)

The novel is,

Butch by Jay Rayn

Apparently,

was quite a success,

in the nineties.

I had never heard of it,

I enjoyed it immensely,

and,

now I’m looking to track down,

Butch II,

so I can read what happened,

to Mike and all.

As you may have guessed,

by the title,

this is the story,

of a butch

😛

coming of age.

Entertaining,

engaging,

sweet,

tough,

sexy,

you know butch:-)

and well paced.

Mike knows who,

she is,

right from the start,

and,

this isn’t all that,

well accepted,

in her family,

and in her,

working class town,

and yet,

Mike thrives,

because she is strong and smart,

and,

knows who she is,

really knows.

A book worth reading,

butch positive,

not rosy in any way,

but,

nice,

empowering.

I could relate,

it’s from another time,

to be sure,

and yet,

much of the homophobia depicted,

still exists,

this isn’t,

Stone Butch Blues,

not as strong,

or raw,

but,

a good read,

nonetheless.

BB recommended<wink>

You may have noticed,

on the home page,

a pinterest button,

I’ve started a page,

on a lark,

could be fun,

check it out.

Later girls,

BB

 

My Summer of Irving?

John Irving,

has a new novel coming out,

on May 8Th!!!!

How cool is that?

a week before,

my birthday,

I know what I’m getting myself,

for my birthday:-)

John Irving

The ‘old’ man is looking good,

seems to be in fine form,

for someone who will soon,

be turning,

seventy!!!

Way to rock the shirt, he’s so butch:-)

His new novel,

In One Person,

is the story of a bisexual man,

Billy Abbott,

through the 50’s, 60’s, 70’s

and into the AIDS crisis of the 80’s.

Abbott is a writer,

in New England,

who wrestles.

Sounds familiar to Irving fans, that bugs some people, familiarity, I’m not one of those people.

Also present are,

quintessential,

Irvingesque elements,

Vienna,

sexual suspect-ness,

etc.

I don’t want to,

read too much about it,

spoil the punch,

it will be great,

coming right after,

my re-reading of,

Cider House Rules,

which I’m still,

working my way through.

Smells like,

a John Irving Summer,

complex,

woodsy,

with a touch of citrus,

and,

danger.

Hmm authors as cologne,

could be a fun game,

Hemingway?

Bay rum,

all the way:-)

Later girls,

BB

Legends

It’s a rainy,

slightly,

miserable morning,

the kind of morning,

you wan’t to,

pull the blankets,

over your head,

and,

cuddle your….

cat.

Alas,

this is not to be,

I have things to do,

people to see,

miles to go,

before I sleep

<wink>

I haven’t written much,

about books,

lately,

I’ve been reading,

a constant in my life, I read:-),

haven’t finished much,

been reading some,

dense non-fiction,

and,

that takes a little longer,

to get through,

than romance,

for instance,

I figure I’ll be slowly,

making my way through,

Alexander Berckman’s Prison Memoirs,

for a few weeks.

I have been re-reading,

Parnassus On Wheels,

and,

The Haunted Bookshop,

by Christopher Morley,

two delighful short novels,

about a used book seller.

I feel they are destined,

to become favourites,

like,

84 Charing Cross Road.

I read them last year,

had them taken out,

of storage,

at La Grande Bibliotheque.

wish I could find a nice hardbound, a vintage Modern Library size, but, all I find on the internet are cheap paperbacks, I like a small bound book, the library copy is just such an edition, Doubleday from the fifties.

Earlier in the week,

I read through,

Schwartz’s Hebrew Delicatessen: The Story.

 

Small book,

anecdotal history,

of a Montreal legend.

Schwartz’s,

there is no other place,

for smoked meat,

for those of you unfortunate enough to not know smoked meat, it is like Pastami, only a hundred times better!!! Moist, spicy, drip down your fingers goodness, served on rye bread with mustard and a sour kosher dill, pretty much…. heaven:-)

 

Schwartz’s is one of those,

great unifiers,

in the city,

it isn’t about,

French-English,

or politics,

and,

culture,

it is as important,

and,

mythical,

as the Canadiens,

everyone goes to,

or has gone,

to Schwartz’s,

a rite of passage.

The decor is non-exissatant,

the food,

amazing,

it hasn’t changed,

much,

in seventy-five years.

Bill Brownstein book,

tells about,

the characters,

who inhabit it,

both employees,

and,

customers.

It’s fun,

and,

informative,

for those of us,

interested,

in ‘small’ history.

Made me nostalgic.

I haven’t been to Schwartz’s,

since ’96,

went with my dad,

last time.

It was his idea,

and,

of course,

I paid,

that was dad,

great ideas,

no money:-)

He died,

less than a year later,

and,

I haven’t been back,

since.

Our local Diva,

and,

her impressario husband,

Celine Dion and Rene Angelil,

have bought,

Schwartz’s,

with some partners.

Some local press,

fear they will change it,

but,

Celine,

is a hometown girl,

she knows better,

than to change,

Schwartz’s,

that would be like,

modernising,

the Habs logo.

Some things,

just aren’t done

🙂

Later girls,

BB

 

 

 

War is Hell, from both sides

It’s a little grey,

today,

but,

if yesterday,

is any kind of measure,

today,

will turn into,

a magnificent day,

let’s hope:-)

I know this sounds,

silly,

but,

it feels like Spring,

no,

really,

it does!

How the week of,

February twentieth,

in Montreal,

can feel like Spring,

I don’t know,

but,

in matters of weather,

and,

seasons,

not much surprises me,

anymore,

so,

I’ll just enjoy,

the light,

the sun,

the crispness,

while it lasts.

🙂

The Habs have been,

on a major losing streak,

they aren’t playing,

so bad,

but,

they are losing,

consistently,

oh well,

that’s life,

and,

hockey,

I guess?

🙂

This week aside from,

freaking and fussing,

about my blog,

I’ve been reading,

All Quiet On The Western Front,

by Erich Maria Remarque,

the dust jacket,

states,

simply,

The Greatest war novel of all time.

Quite an assertion.

I am in no way,

an expert,

on war novels,

but,

this is a powerful work,

of autofiction.

Paul,

the main character,

is a young man,

very young man.

in fact,

barely,

a man,

he enlists,

along with most of his classmates,

to fight the good fight,

for the Fatherland.

An act of patriotism.

He soon discovers,

that war isn’t glorious,

war is hell.

The cold,

the wet,

the stink,

the hunger,

the boredom,

the fear,

the pain,

the grief,

for men as young,

as Paul,

and his fellow soldiers,

it is about losing,

your innocence,

before you’ve had,

a chance to live,

it isn’t cynicism,

it’s about going to hell,

and,

crawling,

lame and wounded,

back.

Disturbing.

Masterfully written,

not one word is too much,

yet,

he fills your mind,

with sights,

with sounds,

that even,

experienced through fiction,

I won’t soon forget.

Trench war fare,

mud,

blood,

screams,

and,

cries.

Chilling.

Having just read,

Robert Graves’,

Goodbye To All That,

in an effort to know,

more about,

the first World War,

the war to end all wars.

I am struck,

by the sameness,

of the tone,

boredom,

horror,

futility,

and waste,

that’s what comes through,

for me,

from both readings,

and yet,

these men,

fought on,

opposite sides,

were of similar backgrounds.

Hmm.

Both are strong works,

Remarque’s more sparse,

truer,

I thought,

but,

Graves gives,

a fuller picture of society.

Remarque’s is a novel,

Graves’ is a memoir,

both are worth reading,

and haunting,

both illustrate,

the folly of war.

…and yet,

wars are still fought,

crazy world.

Later girls,

BB

 

 

 

Anne Lamott a writer who shares.

Well it’s still,

cold,

I know, I know,

big shock,

it’s January:-)

Today,

the light was good,

a sunny day,

helps,

business,

morale,

everything.

The Habs won,

thank you, hockey goddess!!

Beat the Maple Leafs,

first time,

this season.

This year,

the Leafs,

have a better shot,

at the playoffs,

than we do,

weird,

and,

unusual.

Might do ‘us’ good,

to finish,

very low in the,

over all standings,

get a better,

draft pick,

yeah,

food for thought.

Pretty good day,

at ‘ye old bookstore’,

blue skies,

brought people out.

Had a visit from,

one of my,

favourite customers,

she brought me,

some presents,

volume I and II,

of Somerset Maugham’s,

collected short stories,

the cool part,

aside from the gift part:-)

I only had volume 3.

I’ve read most of them,

but,

now I have the collected stories.

They are old penguin,

paperbacks,

which don’t look as good,

on bookshelves,

but,

are,

a lot easier to read,

and carry around.

She didn’t even know,

I was missing those,

two volumes,

she figured,

I could sell them,

as if:-)

I finished Anne Lamott’s,

Traveling Mercies,

loved it,

of course,

I’m a ‘fan’.

In one essay,

she writes about,

grief.

I’m frequently tempted to say ‘talks about’ when refering to Lamott’s work, it feels like a conversation:-)

This excerp is from the part of the book,

entitled,

Ladders

All those years I fell for the big palace lie that grief should be gotten over as quickly as possible and as privately. But what I discovered since is that a lifelong fear of grief keeps us in a barren, isolated place and that only grieving can heal grief; the passage of time will lessen acuteness, but time alone, without the direct experience of grief, will not heal it. San Francisco is a city in grief, we are a world in grief, and it is at once intolerable and a great opportunity. I’m pretty sure that it is only by experiencing that ocean of sadness in a naked and immediate way that we come to be healed-which is to say, that we come to experience life with a real sense of presence and spaciousness and peace.

This spoke to me,

directly,

and I think,

anyone,

who has tried to,

ignore,

or jump over,

the grief of,

losing someone they loved,

be it,

through death,

or divorce,

knows you can’t,

it’s only when you,

grieve,

no matter,

how long it takes,

that you feel peace,

it can take years,

many years.

You have to tear away,

the scar tissue,

feel the pain of,

the wound.

Only then,

can you allow,

yourself,

to heal,

and,

live or love,

again,

to live and love,

better,

hopefully.

That’s why I love Anne Lamott,

she really shares,

what she’s learned,

mostly the hard way.

No preaching,

or,

pointing you to the light,

she shares,

and that is,

priceless.

Later girls,

BB