Anyway, for some time now I have wanted to set up a page on the Internet about reading. In part this is so that I will have a log of what I read or contemplate reading. Often one of my New Year's resolutions is to keep a reading diary, with titles, authors, and reactions, or at least a list of the books I've read. I have kept such lists and even a diary at times, but I never keep them up for a prolonged period. That's one reason I thought that doing this as a weblog would be a good idea. They're supposed to be kept up consistently. The other reason I want to do this is for my friends who are also passionate readers. I am separated geographically from many of them, and unfortunately because of busy lives and the way time passes faster and faster, we don't often find time for a phone call. When we do and ask each other about what we've read recently, all too frequently we both draw a blank or can only think of one or two books, missing out on the chance to share the many other great reads of the past several months.
When I read about what weblogs originally were--links to good Web sites with a bit of commentary--I was a little concerned that this one wouldn't fit the mold because it would mostly be about reading of non-Web materials. But (1) it's obvious that a weblog can be whatever one wants it to be, and (2)as I write I find that I am referring to some sites after all. Which isn't too surprising, of course.
So, what have I been reading? This is a particularly good time to write about that, because over the holidays my husband Alan and I finally took a long-dreamed-of reading vacation, in which we took a bunch of books to a cabin in the country, where there was little to do but read.
When we left, I was immersed in Barbara Vine's latest book, Grasshopper. I had trouble putting it down, as is usually the case with me and a work by either Vine or her alter ego Ruth Rendell. I admit that I have a tendency to think that the latest one I've read is her best one, but...Grasshopper really is Vine at her best. The closest to it in quality for me is The Chimney Sweeper's Boy, but I liked Grasshopper better because I became very fond of the narrator/protagonist. It annoys me no end that the publisher put a blurb from Patricia Cornwell on the back of the book.
Biography being my next favorite genre, after literary fiction, I turned next to Victoria Glendinning's Edith Sitwell: A Unicorn Among Lions. I've long heard that Glendinning is a great biographer, and although I've collected a couple of her works (Elizabeth Bowen and Trollope), I hadn't yet read one. (I did love her novel, Electricity.) I was disappointed with the first third of the book--felt it was sloppy in places and didn't give a good feel for Sitwell's inner or outer life. I was really surprised. When we returned from the country I sought out a review of this 1980 book on the New York Times site. No less a biographer and writer than Michael Holroyd gave it a great review. I got that too-familiar reader's insecurity: "What am I missing here?" Embarrassingly enough, I felt the book got much better after that. I think it really did. I'm almost done with it, but slipped in a quick read of Muriel Spark's A Far Cry from Kensington before finishing. What a fun book! I mean laugh-out-loud funny, and also touching. Wow! I liked Memento Mori, but I think Far Cry is far better. And today while following Web links I found some lists of people's favorite books, and one mentioned another Spark title. I didn't write it down, but I hope that keeping this blog will help me improve in that department as well.
Why was I reading about Sitwell? Well, I'm in an intense T. S. Eliot phase--have been since the book group at my office read Martha Cooley's The Archivist early last fall. The latter is a novel about some real Eliot letters that were under seal at Princeton until the year 2000. I went from there to the poetry. "Four Quartets" moved me as few poems have in my life ("One Art" by Elizabeth Bishop, "Otherwise" by Jane Kenyon, and "Ithaka" by C. P. Cavafy are several of the others.) I have memorized the opening and closing lines of the Quartets. Next I read Eliot's great play The Family Reunion. And I've now listened to a tape of him reading "The Wasteland" twice. The other day I found a tape of Ted Hughes reading it at the library. That will be interesting to hear.
It's about time to get the New Year's Eve festivities underway. I have a great Indian vegetable stew on the stove, and Alan is bringing in some firewood.