BEWARE THE IDES OF MARCH.

That is my advice for the day to all of you: BEWARE THE IDES OF MARCH. So if you see an ide coming, run in the other direction.

Cool word of the day: undecennary, which means "a period of eleven years" or "an eleventh anniversary."This courtesy of A Word A Day, which I commend highly.

There are many, many things I want to write about here, but I am sleepy and too busy to think/write them out properly (one activity being how I do the other) and therefore not able to do any of them justice. But they include: the idiots behind www.classkc.org and how they are symptomatic of the whole literalist divide in this country; thoughts on the role of the child protagonist in literature, inspired by John Updike's New Yorker review of my darling Jonathan's Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close; a textbook example of why Anthony Lane is a fabulous reviewer; how the '90s retro club NerveAna is both like and unlike the middle-school dances I attended when my bangs were much bigger than they are now; "Bride and Prejudice," which is a good time but not nearly so good as it could have been if Mira Nair had directed it instead of the "Bend It Like Beckham" lady, who can't round out a scene to save her life, and if it hadn't had some guy who resembled a Ken doll and possessed the emotional range thereof cast as Mr. Darcy; and the pleasures of running. But as said, I am sleepy, so I am sorry to say you will be denied all these delights. Another time, perhaps.

I also wanted to announce that the Central Children's Room of the Donnell Library Center is currently displaying the original art for the Arthur A. Levine Books picture book The Red Bird, which was written by Astrid Lindgren, illustrated by Marit Tornqvist, translated by Patricia Crampton, and edited by Cheryl Klein. If you are in New York and around 53rd Street between 5th and 6th Avenues, you should stop in and look at it -- it is breathtakingly beautiful, and there until the end of the month.

Harry and the Potters

I am still here at work because I'm goofing off on the Web rather than -- guess what -- writing my last presentation, and I stumbled again on the Harry and the Potters website. This time I went ahead and listened to a few of their songs here, and I just adore the sweetness, humor, and earnestness of their music, combined with that awesome punk spirit -- not unlike Harry himself, now that I think of it. And the account of how their band got started is hilarious. If only *they* were listed on BMG.

How much do I not want to write my presentations due tomorrow?

Let me count the ways.

1. On Monday I returned from a fabulous trip to Florida, where I visited my dear friend Ted in the Everglades. We canoed through mangroves. We played Scrabble. We discussed our personal Desert Island Discs. We watched the sun rise over a lake with many birds. I took several close-ish pictures of smiling alligators. We saw an Indonesian dance performance. We drank excellent milkshakes. We went on a fruitless quest for MoonPies (though this did take us to a Winn-Dixie, which I have always wanted to visit, thanks to Kate DiCamillo's excellent novel Because of Winn-Dixie. The book is better than the grocery store.). And then we played more Scrabble. Other than the missing MoonPies, it is hard to imagine a better weekend. Thank you, Ted.

2. I also finished Permanent Rose, Hilary McKay's third novel about the Casson family (the previous two being Saffy's Angel and Indigo's Star). It's hard to describe Hilary McKay's writing: maybe the wit and sharpness of Jane Austen meets the absurdity of P. G. Wodehouse meets the domestic focus, quirkiness, and truth of The Slightly True Story of Cedar B. Hartley. That doesn't quite get it. It's mostly the magic of her characters, who are utterly individual and endearing even when they're exasperating; I have the same affection for the Cassons that I have for Jack Aubrey and Stephen Maturin and Harry, Ron, and Hermione, in that I would gladly read about them washing their underwear for two hundred pages for the mere pleasure of spending time with them. Anyway, Permanent Rose immediately leaped to the top of the sadly short list of books I've finished in 2005, right up there with Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell. Ted also gave me Idoru and Invisible Cities, so maybe after I finish Atonement and The Golem's Eye . . . < casts longing look at book stack >

3. And speaking of Harry, Ron, and Hermione . . . the US & UK covers for Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince have been released (click here for ours, here and here for the UK if you haven't seen them), and there has been much speculation about the significance of the basin on ours, the copy of Advanced Potion-Making on the UK adult, the presence of Dumbledore on both ours and the UK children's, and the ring of fire around Harry-with-pecs and Dumbledalf on the UK children's. My incredibly mature response to all this speculation: "Ha!" And also: "Hee hee!" Only 127 more days, HP fans . . .

4. Completely and totally overwhelmed at work these days. Yeah.

5. Think you know world literature? Take the Guardian Unlimited World Book Day quiz, which has questions about books from every continent, including Antarctica. I got 18 out of 29, and it told me "Not bad, but not quite worldly wise. You are proof, however, that some of the most exciting journeys can be undertaken from the comfort of your own sofa." (This link courtesy of Ben, whose birthday is Friday. Happy birthday, Ben!)

6. I am loving Gilmore Girls this season, especially Logan, who's a smug bastard but a damnably cute, charming, and intelligent smug bastard. And such Luke and Lorelei happiness! Also Alias seems to be improving now that they're remembering they had three seasons previous to this one.

7. I have one free CD left to get from BMG Music Service and then I can cancel my subscription forever. I have to buy it by the end of the month. I am thinking rock-ish: the newest Liz Phair or Mary Chapin Carpenter; more Patty Griffin; Postal Service; the new U2; the first Wilco album, if BMG will sell it to me as a single album. Any suggestions or picks among those? In general I tend toward music that's acoustic, soulful, and with good lyrics, but I know nothing about modern rock, really, so recommendations are very much appreciated.

8. I received a postcard today that said in white letters on a sky-blue background, "I believe none of us is qualified to judge the lives of others." The back was information/advertisement for Church! of Park Slope (the exclamation mark is intentional), a new nondenominational Christian church opening up on 8th Avenue. It sounds interesting, but the design -- the fonts, the lines, that exclamation point, everything -- looks very much like the format of McSweeney's, so I'm slightly suspicious. Also, I do feel qualified to judge the lives of others to some extent, as in killing/child molestation/torturing small animals = bad. So such generalizations annoy me, and anyway, I'm pretty happy at good old PSUMC.

9. I think that is actually all for now, which means I have to work instead. Shoot. Hrm. Well, have a good night, everyone!

The Happy List Continued

  • llamas
  • The Slightly True Story of Cedar B. Hartley (Who Planned to Live an Unusual Life) by Martine Murray
  • Playing Scrabble
  • Granny Smith apples
  • Peanut butter
  • Cinnamon-raisin anything, especially toasted and with peanut butter
  • Bellinis, Riesling, Sancerre, champagne, Chambord, Kir Royales, and well-made Purple Motherfuckers (the latter few and far between, sadly)
  • Shocking everyone when I say "Purple Motherfucker"
  • Wood floors
  • Nyanko cats (It is always dangerous to say that this is Japan at its very weirdest, but surely smiling kittycats wrapped in foodstuffs is approaching the limit?)
  • My running shoes, brown Danskos, tall black boots, and red slippers with phoenix beading
  • Empire-waist dresses
  • Earl Grey tea
  • Cherry Hill, Bethesda Terrace, and the Central Park Mall
  • Cookie dough, particularly chocolate chip
  • Subway maps
  • Making lists

CBK + JSF = Luv 4-Ever

Thanks to Sunday's profile in the New York Times Magazine, I now officially have a literary crush* on Jonathan Safran Foer. He's a bestselling novelist. He lives in Park Slope. Amplification: He owns his own townhouse in Park Slope. He has a Great Dane named George, who he walks in Prospect Park. He writes beautiful, thoughtful, funny, self-aware e-mails. He's close to his family. He's not only able but unafraid to write compellingly and without cliches about pure emotion, especially love. He's generous, he's smart, he's modest, he's rich (never hurts), and he wears glasses. The one flaw in his perfection is that he is, alas, married, but as ours is a literary love, destined to be consummated only in ink and paper and thought, we can ignore that.

Marry me, Jonathan.

* literary crush. n. An exceedingly silly but enjoyable state of mind where one falls in love with a person solely through the character evinced in his or her writings. See also Lane, Anthony.

What They Should Really Tell You about Your iPod.

  1. The belt clip doubles as a neat little headphone-cord winder.
  2. Yes, you have joined the white-headphone-wearing masses. Deal with it. Or get yourself a different pair of headphones.
  3. If you are a Windows user, you may well be unnerved by the incredible ease of the iPod and iTunes. This discomfort will be increased if you are a Protestant as well as a Windows user: You know that we are put on this earth to be perfected in suffering, and the simplicity of the software will seem uncomfortable, indeed unnatural, and not at all like God intended. You will gradually adjust to this feeling, however, and even come to treasure its faint scent of sin. It isn't called Apple for nothing.
  4. The iPod isolates and insulates. You lock yourself into the space between your earbuds. You listen to music you already know. It is safe, with all the blessings and dangers that that implies.
  5. The iPod disconnects music from mood or experience in ways that may make you uneasy at the beginning. Hit "Shuffle" and suddenly you are hearing "Peter Pan" by Patty Griffin -- a song you have always associated with darkness and sadness and held breath -- in the middle of a perfect sparkling Saturday afternoon, and you must expand your understanding of either the light in the song or the shadows of the day to make the two cohere. On the other hand, "Shuffle" can also create wonderful conjunctions you would never have seen yourself: Listen to "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" in the middle of a big-box Lowe's Home Store surrounded by anxious wannabe suburbanites and see if you can manage not to smile.
  6. The iPod also allows you to connect music to mood or experience more perfectly than you sometimes need. If you're tired, depressed, and lonely after a long evening at work, do you really want to listen to the Dixie Chicks singing "Home"? Wouldn't it be better to go with Van Morrison bopping out "Jackie Wilson Said"? It is too damn easy to indulge your emotions with this thing.
  7. That is, if you can find the music to indulge them with, if the experience of overshooting the click wheel or having to run through all your albums to find Stevie Wonder at last or even merely analyzing your feelings to determine what music you need doesn't snap you out of the feeling itself.
  8. As demonstrated by #5-7, you can easily spend as much time thinking about how the music you're hearing connects to your non-headphones experience as you do actually listening to the music.
  9. If this happens, close your eyes. Listen. Breathe. That is why you have this in the first place: for the chance to hear the music, be the music, anywhere and everywhere.
  10. "For most of us, there is only the unattended
    Moment, the moment in and out of time,
    The distraction fit, lost in a shaft of sunlight,
    The wild thyme unseen, or the winter lightning
    Or the waterfall, or music heard so deeply
    That it is not heard at all, but you are the music
    While the music lasts."


    Like that.
  11. And when the song is done, open your eyes, take out your headphones, and stop being safe.

The Gates

I went to see the Gates with my friend Rachel on Saturday. People who complain that they aren't moved by them or don't understand them are missing the point, I think: The Gates aren't meant to be inherently emotional or hugely complex and intellectual. Rather they just are, like a mountain or a tree, and the meaning of them comes through interacting with them: walking underneath the frames, watching the material flap in the wind, admiring their curve along a pathway, taking pictures, smiling at strangers, experiencing the ebb and flow of park life through their steady lines. The meaning is also in the miracle of their sudden appearance in the park and the brevity of their duration. . . . For me they were like a visual representation of happiness or joy: a flame in the dark, a flower in the snow, pointless, untouchable, but deeply warm and gladdening. Thank you, Christo.

After Rachel and I walked through the park from Cherry Hill to 86th St., we had afternoon tea at the justly renowned Sarabeth's. And then I got a laugh out of this New York Times article: With $3.50 and a Dream, the 'Anti-Christo' Is Born. \

Announcements II

1. Gacked from my friend Nadia's LiveJournal, Fox News Channel is seeking a fact writer. Not a fact checker or a fact editor, mind you -- a fact WRITER. "Responsibilities include writing on-air facts and press conference quotes for daytime programming. . . . A successful candidate will have the ability to write in a concise, conversational and colorful style at an extremely fast pace. Fox News is an Equal Opportunity Employer."

I wonder what kind of political bias tests they run before they hire you. Word-association games, maybe, where they say "Donald Rumsfeld" and you say -- "God"? "Gerald Ford"? "automatic signing machine"? "Poetry"? Or maybe they put you on a blood-pressure monitor and hold up pictures of Dick Cheney, Hillary Clinton, Condoleeza Rice, Karl Rove, barbecue, foie gras, puppies, kittens, etc. to see what gets you going.

2. I am pleased to announce two recent awards for Arthur A. Levine Books. First, Ana Juan has won the 2005 Ezra Jack Keats Award for Illustration for her book The Night Eater -- a book we would consider gorgeous even if we hadn't published it. Second, Kate Constable's The Singer of All Songs has been recognized by the ALA's Amelia Bloomer Project, which honors books with strong female role models and quality feminist content. Congratulations Ana and Kate!

3. I am also pleased to announce that the New York Carleton Club won the 2005 Carleton Nationwide Alumni Trivia Challenge held yesterday! We clinched the victory in the fourth round thanks to solid contributions from club co-chair Hiro Oshima and an unknown young alum who knew that "Sam Fujiyama" was the sidekick on the medical show "Quincy." (Ah, the benefits of a liberal-arts education.) A good time was had by all.

4. Valentine's Day may be over, but the pleasures of "Master and Commander" Valentine's Day cards never cease: To view To send

Happy President's Day, everyone!

Announcements

Greetings to all who found this blog through Jeremiah's Five Bucks to Friday -- an excellent blog and webcomic I commend to all who did not find this blog through FBtF. I hope everyone is having a good week.

A few announcements:

1. My dear Park Slope United Methodist Church is having a Book Sale next Saturday, February 26, from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. The church is at the corner of 6th Ave. and 8th St. in Park Slope. This is always a really fabulous event, as the people are friendly, the selection wide-ranging, and the books cheap ($2 for hardcovers, I think) -- everyone in the neighborhood should check it out. If you'd like to donate some old volumes for a good cause, let me know in the comments and I will gladly tell you where and when.

2. It turns out Rice to Riches -- the wonderfully futuristic rice-pudding shop in Soho where I have taken many a New York visitor -- is operated entirely on funds from an illegal sports gambling ring. This continues the trend of beloved institutions in my life becoming associated with organized crime, as I learned late last month that my first employer out of high school, the tiny little CassTel phone company in Peculiar, Mo., was funded by the Gambino crime family. (Woo-hoo! I'm a moll!) Anyway, I really hope they don't close Rice to Riches; not only does it overwhelm you with only-in-New York-iness in its specialization and expense, it is excellent, excellent rice pudding, and one of the few places where you can exercise creativity in your dessert selections since you get to make up cool combinations. And if it's ever revealed that Hampton Chutney Company is actually owned by the Gottis, I am abandoning all faith in mankind.

3. In the trivia department, I bought a new shower curtain. This counts as Announcement-worthy news because it is the first major decorating change I have made in my apartment since, um, 2002 (a new bookshelf and filing cabinet notwithstanding). Yes, we at Brooklyn Arden believe strongly in the "If it ain't broke, don't fix it" school of home decor. Martha would weep.

On Love.

I thought a lot about the poem I wanted to post here for Valentine's Day -- what would best express my current thinking on love and its perils and pleasures. John Donne, Sharon Olds, Stevie Wonder, Barbara Crooker, and many others write purely of how love feels and what it means, or bring up different aspects of the experience worthy of celebration. But in the end, for true love, for individuality, for faith and steadiness and simplicity, I come back to these two. Happy Valentine's Day, everyone.

Sonnet 116
by William Shakespeare

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
Oh no! It is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

+++++

They Can't Take That Away from Me
lyrics by Ira Gershwin

The way you wear your hat
The way you sip your tea
The memory of all that
No, no, they can't take that away from me

The way your smile just gleams
The way you sing off key
The way you haunt my dreams
No, no, they can't take that away from me

We may never, never meet again
On the bumpy road to love
Still I'll always, always
Keep the memory of

The way you hold your knife
The way we danced till three
The way you changed my life
No, no, they can't take that away from me
No, they can't take that away from me

Things That Make Me Happy (An Ongoing List)

  • The F train coming out of the tunnel and up the curve on the approach to the Smith & 9th St. subway station
  • My Polarfleece feather boa
  • Paper clips
  • McVitie's, Moon Pies, Thin Mints, s'mores, Oatmeal Creme Pies, brownies, Twix bars
  • The words "pants" and "popemobile"
  • The fact that the word "popemobile" is in the Oxford English Dictionary
  • Twinings Earl Grey with milk
  • My gleaming red cordless phone
  • Chai lattes
  • Swedish Fish
  • Mail

No Strings Attached

Someone in my building is kind enough to have a wireless connection, so thanks to my lovely new computer (now named Dellawhere), this is being posted . . . THROUGH THE AIR! Such marvelous and interesting times we live in.

I had my book group over for dinner last night, and we discussed Laurie Halse Anderson's fabulous new novel Prom and ate pancakes. The pancakes were universally acclaimed, so I thought I would post the recipe (taken from another book for youngish readers, Deborah Hopkinson's delightful Fannie in the Kitchen, illustrated by Nancy Farmer):

Fannie Farmer's Famous Griddle Cakes

2 cups flour
1/4 cup sugar
1 tsp salt
1 1/2 tbsp baking powder
1 egg
2 cups milk
2 tbsp melted butter

In a large bowl, mix and sift dry ingredients. In a smaller bowl, beat the egg, add milk, and pour this slowly on the dry mixture. Beat everything together thoroughly and add the butter. Drop by spoonfuls (I use a soup ladle) on a greased hot griddle. When one side is puffed full of bubbles in the center and cooked on the edges, turn and cook on the other side. Serve with butter, syrup, and whatever toppings you choose.

I would also like to report that I am happy to play e-scrabble with anyone who would care to challenge me. Anyone? Anyone?

The 2005 Resolution List, Annotated

TO DO IN 2005

Live deeply, joyfully, passionately, and well.

Discipline
Cook a proper dinner for a friend once a month.
I made cranberry chicken for Ben on January 31 and I'm having my book group over for pancakes this Tuesday. . . . March-December is still open, though, so if you'd like to invite yourself over, I'm happy to cook!
Spend three minutes cleaning before going to bed.
Keep a plant alive all year.
My new plant is a philodendron named Philomena Loveday. So far, so good.
Save one thousand seven hundred and fifty dollars.
Run at least three miles once a week.
Send more mail.
When I got my beloved new filing cabinet and I was organizing all the notes and letters from friends I've saved over the years, I decided I wanted to send more mail too.
No excuses, no fear.
Floss.

Experience
Watch a sunrise and a sunset.
Go rock climbing and kayaking.
Rock climbing was on last year's list and I never did it, and the city offers free kayaking lessons on the Hudson piers in the summer.
Picnic and play Scrabble in Bryant Park.
I've wanted to do this for years.
Visit Montauk Point.
The Exploration Resolution for the year to the northeast tip of Long Island, to parallel my 2004 trip to Breezy Point (one of the southwesternmost points of Long Island).
Touch toes with ease.
Rewrite and submit “Falling in Love” talk to a magazine.
This is my talk about how finding a publisher is like falling in love: an arduous but rewarding process where you try to find the right match.
Write a bad novel.
Try four new cuisines.
I've already had Austrian, and I have Filipino, Russian, and Senegalese in my sights.
Learn to knit/crochet.
Negative capability.

Read
The Iliad
The Brothers Karamazov
Daniel Deronda
Midnight’s Children


Today is the two-year anniversary of my last post to this blog: February 4, 2003. I am reinvigorating it now because I seem to have gotten in the habit of writing out various thoughts and observations and I don't want to lose that pleasure. As E. M. Forster says, "I know what I think when I see what I say," and so I shall see what I say, huzzah.

Today is also the two-year anniversary of the death of my grandmother: Carol Jean Sadler, 1937-2003. In honor of her, a poem. She was a great fan of Edna St. Vincent Millay, and also quite fond of talking about her high school boyfriends, so the text is not as inappropriate as it appears. My grandmother also bought me the laptop I've used the last four and a half years, and this is my first night with the lovely new laptop I've bought myself, so the timing of this message seems appropriate as well.

Life of late has mostly consisted of work: reading manuscripts; reviewing production passes of The Legend of the Wandering King, Stanford Wong Flunks Big-Time, and the Book-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named; and arranging a reception at the Swedish consulate for my beautiful, beautiful Red Bird. I got to go to a reception at the consulate last night for the author Henning Mankell, and afterward to a screening of a movie based on his latest novel, Before the Frost. The movie was a little like "CSI: Sweden," but the characterizations were interesting, so I think I should like to read more of Mr. Mankell's work. Plus I had interesting conversations with a Swedish translator, a nice young jacket designer for Knopf, and Andre Schiffrin -- and I will leave it to my readers to suppose which of those contacts I found most delightful. :-)