Reading life review: August

■ WWW : Wake (Robert J. Sawyer)
Science fiction. Perhaps the ideas in this novel, the first in a trilogy, are familiar to a more widely read sci-fi aficionado, but they were fresh to me. More, I appreciated the bold way in which Sawyer linked seemingly disparate subjects: sight-processing in people blind from birth, math giftedness, the bicameral mind, Asperger syndrome in adults, the differences between life in Canada and life in the States, information technology, the web behind the web, the analogy between the brain and the web, and artificial sentience in the web -- the latter of which I first learned of in the Ender series (Orson Scott Card). Recommended.

■ Nothing But the Truth (Avi)
YA fiction. Described as "a documentary novel," this book caught my eye when we stopped at a bookstore between the morning and evening shows at the Shakespeare Festival. (Related entries here, here, and here.) I'd press this on anyone interested in public education. Note that there are no easy answers here, no heroes, no villains. As the author's note reveals, many readers saw themselves and their school in the novel.

■ Staying Fat for Sarah Byrnes (Chris Crutcher)
YA fiction. This is certainly gritty stuff (though not as gritty as the Laura Weiss titles I read in May), but I appreciated the authenticity of the narrative voice, and frankly? I also appreciated that the conclusion didn't announce itself three chapters in.

■ A Girl of the Limberlost (Gene Porter Stratton)
Classic. With the Misses. While I know that many readers find Stratton hopelessly old-fashioned, we absolutely love Elnora and her story. In the text's front matter, the characters are described thus:

ELNORA, who collects moths to pay for her education, and lives the Golden Rule.
PHILIP AMMON, who assists in moth hunting, and gains a new conception of love.
MRS. COMSTOCK, who lost a delusion and found a treasure.
WESLEY SINTON, who always did his best.
MARGARET SINTON, who "mothers" Elnora.
BILLY, a boy from real life.
EDITH CARR, who discovers herself.
HART HENDERSON, to whom love means all things.
POLLY AMMON, who pays an old score.
TOM LEVERING, engaged to Polly.
TERENCE O'MORE, Freckles grown tall.
MRS. O'MORE, who remained the Angel.
TERENCE, ALICE and LITTLE BROTHER, the O'MORE children.

See? Hopelessly old-fashioned, right? But aren't you intrigued?

■ Invisible (Peter Hautman)
■ Rash (Peter Hautman)
YA fiction. I had recently finished Chris Crutcher's Staying Fat for Sarah Byrnes when I read BookMoot's post about the Teen Lit Fest. She points readers to Pete Hautman's blog, exhorting them to also peruse the comments: "Chris Crutcher's thoughts are so on target." First, BookMoot's own remarks on this unfortunate episode are also "so on target" -- take some time to read her post before clicking over to Hautman's. Second, by golly, you know how much I love serendipity, sychronicity, and synthesis. Naturally, then, the mention of Crutcher delighted me, but as I read over Hautman's blog, I realized, Oh, my goodness! He's the author of Godless! I read this National Book Award winner six years ago and really loved both the subject and author's style. That's how I ended up consuming Invisible and Rash in a few bites. The first, which is equal parts mystery and psychological exploration, leaves the reader feeling alternately unsettled and saddened. I will certainly never forget Douglas MacArthur Hanson. The second stirs satire, school, sports, and social commentary into a futuristic setting with surprisingly entertaining results. Both are recommended, as is the excellent Godless.

■ Lucy (Laurence Gonzalez)
Fiction. For a while there, it seemed like everyone was talking about this novel. I picked it up after reading an EW review and hearing Steve and Johnnie's on-air raves. Thought-provoking and entertaining. A perfect end-of-summer read. Oh, Mr. M-mv also enjoyed it.

■ Bicycle Diaries (David Byrne)
Non-fiction. The Talking Heads founder, frontman, and songwriter offers a view of many of the world's cities from the seat of his bicycle. Sort of. Rather than a travelogue, Byrne offers his thoughts on the politics, art, museums, economy, and planning (or lack thereof) he encounters. Check out his blog for a sample of his writing style because while I thoroughly enjoyed this ramble, others may not.

■ The Call to Brilliance: A True Story to Inspire Parents and Educators (Resa Steindel Brown)
Education.

■ Twelfth Night (William Shakespeare)
Play, classic. With the Misses. Two years ago, we (the Misses and I) read Bruce Coville's adaptation and watched the 1996 film. This week, we read the play, discussed it at length, and watched the film again. Brilliant stuff, both. (This was my third go at Twelfth Night, reading, watching. It seems so many, many years ago that Master M-mv and I first studied it: August 2003. Oh, how we all miss him!)

■ Trouble (Gary Schmidt)
YA fiction. Schmidt followed The Wednesday Wars (see July's reading life review) with Trouble. The Richard Peck-like narrative sensibility (i.e., the twisty turns and the penchant for layered coincidences) is still evident, but the tone is decidedly more somber here. That said, I really loved this book, even though it features one of the most heartbreaking parent-child exchanges I have ever read:

"Henry," he said. "Henry, do you think Franklin would have grown into a good man?"

Henry was so startled, he took a step back.

"I know," said his father. "How can anybody ask that? But lately it's the only question I seem to be able to ask. Not: Why was Franklin taken from us? Not: What should happen to Chay Chouan? But: Would Franklin have grown into a good man? And I'm not sure I have the courage to hear a true answer."

"Dad."

This is an excellent novel. Period. Forget the YA designation and find a copy. Soon.

The importance of nature

Let nature be your first teacher.
~ Saint Bernard of Clairvaux ~

The Misses were surprised to learn of my plans to spend the morning at the beach. And they had a wonderful time -- talking, exploring, strolling, crouching.

I parked myself under a large shade tree just beyond the sandy shore of the lake: They could see me, and I could see them, but all of us could be happy in our own pursuits.

Apart from a bottle of water, a book, and a baseball cap, neither of them brought anything along, which reminded me of a passage from The Idle Parent (Tom Hodgkinson):

Children teach us the joys of a cardboard box or a pebble or a twig.

They're considerably older now than they were in their days of sandy hearts and backyard swings, yet they still possess a certain simplicity and innocence, both of which were displayed in their meandering along the water's edge, in their solemn investigation of the detritus -- natural and not -- left in the wake of another summer season, and in their animated chatter, which arrived in wisps as I read in the cool shade.

Afterward, I took them to lunch, complete with Blizzards from Dairy Queen. The photos above were taken in the reserve where we parked to enjoy our frozen treats.

And now we are home, practicing music, reworking math problems, discussing -- again -- the misfortunes that befell poor Malvolio.

It was, then, an unremarkable day, I suppose, one that does not necessarily merit retelling, but it was certainly a good day -- company, conversation, butter-yellow sun, ice cream, etudes, angles, bardolatry, and all.

Josh Holloway as Jim Rockford? Hell, yeah!

Related celebrity gossip here.

Bits and bobs

● I've only completed four of the books in the stack pictured at left. A fifth is nearly done; a sixth and seventh have been picked up and set aside so many times, I fear that they will be shelved. And forgotten. For now. The eighth, ninth, and tenth? Partially read, partially read, and shelved simply because I'm not up for it yet.

Which are which? Check back on Tuesday or Wednesday for my monthly "reading life review," found under the "On the nightstand" label.

● With a nine-mile ride on Friday afternoon and a 12.5-mile ride this morning, we brought our total miles ridden since late May to 346.5.

● The Misses and I are six episodes into the last season of "LOST." (Related entry here.) They've already expressed their desire to "reread" the entire series after watching all of the special features included with this set. "Fine by me," I agreed.

● Speaking of the Misses: We met nearly all of our goals for our (So short! Where did it go?) summer term.

● The leaves have been falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling for about two weeks. I will yield on Monday, September 6. No sooner. It is summer. And tomorrow we're going to the beach. Shhhh. Don't tell the Misses. It is to be my surprise for them. Muffins, coffee, and the slanting sun, cool breezes, and empty beaches. All for them.

Reading the Sunday Chicago Tribune

■ "Overdue state funds put libraries in bind"

The North Suburban Library System, which got only 42 percent of its funding and is waiting for about $900,000 from the state, has laid off 20 full- and part-time employees so it can use the remainder of the funds for delivery costs, according to its Web site. The system, which serves libraries in Cook, Kane, Lake and McHenry counties, currently doesn't even have an employee to answer the phones at its office in Wheeling.

Sloan said he is staying hopeful after state officials recently promised to release some money to them by the end of this year.

But Sloan and Calabrese-Berry warn they might have to make tough decisions regarding the delivery service for the immediate future if the money doesn't come.

Losing access to the interlibrary loan system would be... words fail me.

■ "Why need read many books at once?" *

"Which of these bookmarks are active?" a friend once asked me, surveying the sharp-edged towers with a dubious frown. I sensed his reproach: You couldn't possibly be reading so many books at the same time.

"All of them," was my smug reply.

It was true. I am never reading just one book. And to those who note that my job as a literary critic must require this splintering of focus, I can cheerfully report that I've always been this way. Even as a kid, I'd polish off a chapter of "Tom Swift and His Atomic Earth Blaster" (1954) and then move on to a paragraph of "A Wrinkle in Time" (1962), finally circling back around to renew my acquaintance with "My Side of the Mountain" (1959), which I'd temporarily abandoned in favor of "Tom Swift and His Atomic Earth Blaster" in the first place.

As someone with no fewer than eleven active bookmarks at this writing, I can happily report that I, too, "am never reading just one book."

■ "'A magical place'"

Balliett's three previous books — "Chasing Vermeer," "The Wright 3" and "The Calder Game" — have sold millions of copies and established her as one of the leading children's book authors in the world.

Three Oaks, a tiny Southwestern Michigan village of some 2,000 permanent residents, is the setting for Balliett's new book, a compelling story titled "The Danger Box," scheduled to be released this week. It is the story of a delightfully introspective and observant if visually impaired 12-year-old boy named Zoomy who lives with his grandparents and comes into possession of a mysterious diary.

So charmingly and evocatively does Balliett render the town — a place where "everybody always says hello" — that it is likely to compel many young readers to demand that their parents take them there for a visit. They, and their parents, will find a surprisingly lively cultural community.

Did you know that the wonderful Balliet had another book due out? (Related entry here.)

* Added later: This is more elegantly titled in the actual paper: "Book binge: As summer ends, a manifesto for reading many books at once."

An improbable fiction: Twelfth Night

A great while ago the world begun,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain:
But that’s all one, our play is done,
And we’ll strive to please you every day.

"Mowing is applied art; in doing it, one edits the lawn, grooming the ragged, shearing the shaggy, making the unruly ruly."

Mr. M-mv turns an unnatural shade of red when mowing the lawn.

Or more accurately, once upon a time ago, shortly after we moved here, Mr. M-mv mowed the back lawn. (I don't know where Master M-mv, who tended to most of the yard work for five years, was.) As he puttered behind the roaring, spluttering beast -- something he had not done since, oh, the early eighties or perhaps even the late seventies -- Mr. M-mv turned an unnatural shade of red.

From that point forward, it seemed prudent to keep him away from the mower.

Filling feeders? Fine. Raking leaves? Okay. Shoveling snow? All right. But mowing the lawn? Not so much.

It was, I suspect, a combination of summer's heat plus exertion that colored him so because the man is no stranger to hard work, mental and physical. Still, I'm not taking any chances: Since Master M-mv's absence, I have assumed responsibility for most of the yard work chores, with Miss M-mv(ii) as my partner (yes, a euphemism for gofer). Though I cannot say that I enjoy the work, I do appreciate (a) the fruits of my labors (i.e., tidy, attractive yards) and (b) the benefits to my overall health.

Now, of course, you will better understand my interest in this essay. From "The Metaphysics of Cutting Grass":

For me, cutting grass involves a kind of invisible growth. Ironically, the very routine of grass cutting, its essential mindlessness, clears mental space to fill with intentional, task-unrelated thoughts. I call it “the mull.” I experience regrets; weigh alternatives and make choices; plan upcoming events; sing songs I find meaningful, which almost always means songs from the 1960s; make up poems or recite poems from memory; analyze books, movies, TV shows, and ads; wax nostalgic, sentimental, skeptical, or cynical about something or other, and then wonder why I feel that way; examine assumptions; ponder love, justice, free will, God, or the best recipe for pasta primavera; and wonder at string theory, quantum physics, and Mel Gibson’s proclivity for behavioral meltdowns. It could be that “the mull” is a mind-body thing; after all, cutting grass is a walk. Kierkegaard claimed “I have walked myself into my best thoughts.” Rousseau asserted “my mind works only with my legs.”

Susan Jacoby on "Multiculturism and Its Discontents"

I am an atheist with an affinity for non-fundamentalist religious believers whose faith has made room for secular knowledge. I am also a political liberal. I am not, however, a multiculturalist who believes that all cultures and religions are equally worthy of respect. And I find myself in a lonely place in relation to many liberals, political and religious, because I cannot accept a multiculturalism that tends to excuse, under the rubric of “tolerance,” religious and cultural practices that violate universal human rights.

The complete piece can be found here.

From the archives: The rumors of summer's death...

have been greatly exaggerated. Summer, the season, ends September 23; summer, the event, ends on Labor Day, which is, at this writing, twelve days away.

Please, no more, "Summer's over!" Yes, I love back-to-school supplies as much as the next autodidact, but their reduced prices at Target do not herald the end of summer, only the end of the "summer fun" aisle.

Okay?

Okay.

"You should never feel guilty about your abilities."

After all, we've managed to raise a bright, self-reliant girl who achieves her goals by means of incentive and ratiocination and never—or very rarely—through the corrupt syllogism of force. We know, despite what you and a number of other parents we've met have said—as they carried their whimpering little social parasites away—that Johanna's defiant, quasi-bellicose nature only superficially resembles that of an out-of-control toddler, and in truth posits her as more of a latter-day Dagny Taggart than any kind of enfant terrible.

You'll find the complete piece here.

"My name is Benjamin Linus. I'm from the home office."

"The New Man in Charge"

"Fact-checkers also consulted periodicals."

From "What ‘Fact-Checking’ Means Online" (NYT Magazine, August 22):

In short, fact-checking has assumed radically new forms in the past 15 years. Only fact-checkers from legacy media probably miss the quaint old procedures. But if the Web has changed what qualifies as fact-checking, has it also changed what qualifies as a fact? I suspect that facts on the Web are now more rhetorical devices than identifiable objects. But I can’t verify that.

From the archives: "You'd be sitting all alone!"

From "The book of love: Literary Speed Dating brings author-ity to singles’ events" (Boston Herald, February 2, 2006; expired link):

Tom and Brian Nealon, brothers and owners of Pazzo Books in Roslindale, plan their first Literary Speed Dating event tomorrow. The evening follows the drill of normal speed dating: Participants have six minutes for each "date" and will rate their partner as a "yes," "no" or "friend" on a scorecard. But instead of fumbling for small talk, daters already have guaranteed conversation starters: at least three of their favorite books in front of them.

"I think the books you like say a lot about you, not necessarily in a snotty way, but about who you are...."

"So which three would you bring?" I quizzed Mr. M-mv, after reading the article aloud.

"Well, I don't need to think about that. I'm with you."

"Yeah, I know, but if you weren't."

"But I am."

"But...."

And the sort of conversation that older married couples have -- the kind that is underscored by the fact that you can still glimpse his eighteen-year-old self (and he, yours) in a face rounder, lined, and graying at the temples and punctuated by the knowledge that you still want him (and he, you) -- followed.

"You wouldn't even have that book if you needed to 'Literary Speed Date,'" he challenged me, later. He's right. His mother sent me the Kittredge Shakespeare with its black and white photos of now-dead actors and its scent of storage places in my husband's childhood home. "In fact," he continued, "you didn't really start spending a lot of time reading Shakespeare until we decided to home educate -- our children."

"But...."

Why do we do this? Indulge in these silly what-if scenarios? Because they're fun. I think, anyway.

"Look at those books. The Chicago Manual of Style? You'd be sitting all alone!"

That effectively ended the conversation.

He spied me photographing my selections. "I knew it! You're blogging this."

Oh, yes, I am.

Other stuff I've been watching

Related entries here and here.

Several years ago, Mr. M-mv and I watched Michael Moore's Bowling for Columbine and Fahrenheit 9/11, and early last fall, Master M-mv and I saw Sicko. Naturally, then, I thought I knew what to expect when Mr. popped Capitalism: A Love Story into the DVD player last weekend. But were we surprised! Is it just us, or has Moore's narrative style become even more disjointed? The transitions to and relationships between his "chapters" were arbitrary at best and often painfully forced. That said, though, there is still something compulsively provocative about his work. Agree, disagree -- he always forces viewers to think -- as in, What do I know? What do I believe? What is the truth?

I was on my own for Wordplay, a 2006 documentary about crossword puzzles -- solving them, constructing them, editing them, being confounded by them. The action, such as it is, culminates with the 2005 American Crossword Puzzle Tournament, which was founded in 1978 by Will Shortz, who is featured throughout the film. This isn't for everyone, but my fellow readers, thinkers, and autodidacts will probably find it quite interesting.

Which is exactly what Swing Kids wasn't, by the way. Interesting, that is. You would think a cast that includes Robert Sean Leonard, Christian Bale, Barbara Hershey, and Kenneth Branagh (in an uncredited role) would spell "Good stuff!" But, alas, no. Describing the plot as "murky" (Oh, and how!), Roger Ebert writes:

One can only speculate on what kinds of compromises went into the making of this film. Was a decision made at some point to play up the swing music and play down the Nazi atrocities, to improve the film's box office chances? Was the plot deliberately skewed to pander to the movie youth audience? Did anyone consciously decide that today's kids would like a movie about young German music fans of the 1930s, but would be turned off by too much politics? I can't say.

There are moments here where the movie seems to believe Hitler was bad, not because he mapped genocidal madness, but because he wouldn't let the Swing Kids dance all night. If Hitler had encouraged the swing clubs, would the Kids have still developed problems with Nazism? Thoughts come to mind about the deck band on the Titanic.

The bit about the deck band on the Titanic was particularly funny to me because at one point in the film, the swing kids dash this way and then that to escape the Hitler Youth who have infiltrated their night club. Mr. M-mv leaned over and said, "That looks like a scene right out of Titanic." Heh, heh, heh. Obviously not recommended.

This evening we're planning to watch the first two or three lectures in Our Night Sky, another Teaching Company course, and naturally, we're looking forward to receiving the final season of "LOST" (August 24). Aunt M-mv lent me the first season of "Breaking Bad," and I know from the bits that I've seen on television that it is a bold and well acted bit of storytelling. For whatever reason, though, it's not calling to me in the same way as, say, Will Shakespeare (with Tim Curry as a young Shakespeare) and Shakespeare Retold are. We'll see. (Pun unintended.)

Milestone

~ 325 ~

With our ride this morning, we brought our total miles ridden this summer to 325!

Now, you could argue that 75 miles since August 1 isn't much of an accomplishment, but I would counter with two excuses: We cycle together, the Misses and I, and Miss M-mv(ii) was put on an exercise (exertion) restriction following an oral surgery mid-month; and then there was the heat wave -- bleah. Those things considered, I think we've done good work. Yay us!

"Above all...

... a well-imagined story is organized around extraordinary human behaviors and unexpected and startling events, which help illuminate the commonplace and the ordinary."

Have you read Tim O'Brien's essay "Telling Tails" from the 2009 fiction issue of The Atlantic?

Think of it as a sort of "seated Ren Faire."

Even if it is called...

The Misses and I donned the wreathes we purchased at the Bristol Renaissance Faire two years ago, and they wore their gowns.

We cheered for the Red Knight, ate with our hands, admired the horses, and enjoyed ourselves. Oh, and Miss M-mv(ii) received a flower from the Red Knight. Thrilled her. Simply thrilled her.

The Tempest

Hat tip: Girl Detective.

Semicolon hosts "The Saturday Review of Books." Consider participating this week.

Sky show

We were up yesterday at 3:30 a.m. and today at 2:15 a.m. to see the Perseid meteor shower. Although we saw nothing on Thursday morning, the Misses remained undeterred, and their commitment was rewarded with quite a display this morning.

Me? Well, I was excited, but it turns out that I was more than grateful to return to my cool (and mosquito-free!) bed forty-five minutes later. And sleeping in has never felt quite so good, folks.

The recommended daily allowance

Mark Twain Tonight! (1967)

In his "Light and Enlightening Look" at Mark Twain (related entry here), Professor Elliot Engel asserts that many people's notions about the American author's appearance, nature, and personality have been shaped by Hal Holbrook's one-man show, Mark Twain Tonight!

Mark Twain Tonight! premiered on Broadway in 1959 and earned Holbrook a Tony in 1966. The popular and award-winning show was then filmed for a CBS television special the following year. According to the Morning Call, Holbrook, now eight-five, has given more than 2,100 performances, drawing on more than sixteen hours of the writer's material, including The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and Letters from Earth.

We may have arrived much, much later to this feast than others, but the Misses and I still feel compelled to recommend it highly. See it again or see it for the first time. Absolutely excellent.

Related aside: Although the only related link I can find is from July 11, I know that Rick Kogan also discussed Jim Post's Mark Twain and the Laughing River in the spring. I know this because after I first heard and fell in love with the opening song ("Mighty Big River," featured in the file linked above) on "The Sunday Papers," I acquired a copy of the CD and (over)played it -- including my windows-wide-open-and-music-wailing slide into the parking lot every night I picked the Misses up during the week of indoor practices that open the summer swim season in late May.

Anyway.

For one reason and then another, getting out to Galena this summer may not in the cards, but what a sweet piece of synchronicity / serendipity / synthesis that we arrived (finally!) at the Holbrook classic in its stead, eh?

____________________________________

Between the Folds (2010)

If you're looking for another great "something to watch" this weekend, the Misses and I also recommend Between the Folds, a short documentary that explores the art and science of paper folding. If your only experience with origami is a crooked crane, you're in for many surprises, not the least of which is Erik Demaine, whose fascination with and enthusiasm for the math behind and beyond the folding is contagious. (Just ask Miss M-mv(ii)!)

Another entry for loners

From "America: Land of Loners?" (The Wilson Quarterly, Summer 2010):

Developing meaningful friendships—having the kind of people in your life who were once known as “intimates”—takes time, but too many of us are locked in what social critic Barbara Ehrenreich has called “the cult of conspicuous busyness,” from which we seem to derive status and a certain perverse comfort even as it alienates us from one another. Throw in two careers and some kids, and something’s got to give. The poet Kenneth Koch, whose friends included the brilliant but childless John Ashbery and Frank O’Hara, laid out the problem in verse:

You want a social life, with friends.
A passionate love life and as well
To work hard every day. What’s true
Is of these three you may have two.

Related entry here.

There were a host of technical difficulties with the "I pray for you" post, but I think I've resolved them. Perhaps it is too late to get many responses, but I am interested in your feedback.

"The mob thinks we are maladjusted."

In early February 2006, I mentioned that I was reading "Introverts of the World, Unite!," a follow-up to the popular Atlantic article "Caring for Your Introvert" (The Atlantic, March 2003).

Below are other M-mv entries that have appealed to fellow introverts:

■ Yes, I'm supposed to be working... (1.18.2008)
The unsurprising results of online personality testing.

■ The recommended daily allowance (11.05.2003)
My recommendation of Anneli Rufus' Party of One: A Loner's Manifesto. The title of today's post is taken from a passage in that book.

■ "Mom, Mom! Look!" (8.19.2005)
Which led readers to Kay Ryan's insightful essay, "A Lifetime of Preferring Not To."

■ Party of one (6.09.2009)
There was a run on these shirts after this post. Heh, heh, heh.

■ How to be alone (8.07.2010)
Tanya Davis' take on me-time.

I thought to collect all of these in one place because today as I perused the Psychology Today site this morning, I realized I had never recommended The Introvert's Corner.

How to be alone

"How to Be Alone," written and performed by Tanya Davis
Hat tip: Semicolon.

Synchronicity! Serendipity! Synthesis!

I.
Although I cannot put my hand on the playbill, I'm pretty certain Gerson Dacanay -- the wonderful Ariel -- had a small role in the Chicago Shakespeare Theater's Short Shakespeare! The Taming of the Shrew that we saw back in January 2007.

II.
As I mentioned here, we discovered Professor Elliot Engel's lectures on DVD last month, taking "A Light and Enlightening Look" at Edgar Allan Poe, Mark Twain, and William Shakespeare. We read Twain's The Adventures of Tom Sawyer the month before, but the Misses and I enjoy returning to books and topics we've covered, especially if we happen upon good supplemental material (e.g., Professor Engel's lectures). It turns out that the Misses tend to agree with Engel: Twain probably is the best American author -- if for no other reasons than his use of "real speech" and, yes, his humor.

Naturally, we've discussed the hundredth anniversary of Twain's death and the publication of his autobiography, so you can imagine the delight on Miss M-mv(ii)'s face when she discovered that the author was Newsweek's cover story. "Look at this!" she demanded when she came in with the mail last week.

III.
Speaking of anniversaries... I tucked the June 2010 issue of Smithsonian Magazine in the reading room before I had to chance to read it myself. It took me several weeks to notice the cover blurb about To Kill a Mockingbird. I finally read "Harper Lee's Novel Achievement" this week.

_______________________________________

Other stuff I've meant to post
I usually do a better job of recording what we've seen on screens small and large. (The latter is rare, which makes it all the more notable -- as in, What movie got her into a theater?)

Here are a few notes:

Mr. M-mv and I watched the BBC series "Survivors" over the last couple of weekends. Based on Terry Nation's novel of the same name, the program is not a remake of the 1970s series (which we have not seen, but perhaps you have). The action takes place in the aftermath of a virus that kills more than ninety percent of the world's population and follows a handful of characters who loosely form a family. The pilot was strong; the rest of the two seasons, though, were uneven, at best -- which likely explains why the show was canceled in April. That said, like "Jericho" (related entry here), it was built on a fascinating premise and had moments of real brilliance. Neither of us regret the hours we spent watching.

I've already mentioned watching Season Two of "Damages" (excellent) and returning to "LOST" (this time in the company of the Misses). As to the latter, we've finished Seasons One through Five and expect Season Six to be delivered on Tuesday, August 24.

I know I've also mentioned the films related to our reading this summer -- The Pit and the Pendulum (1961), The Masque of the Red Death (1964), Tom Sawyer (1973), To Kill a Mockingbird (1962), and the Professor Elliot Engel "A Light and Enlightening Look" lectures (Poe, Twain, and Shakespeare) -- but I failed to mention how much we adored Man of La Mancha (1972), which we watched in early May, following our April reading of Don Quixote.

Let's see. I caught Howard's End (1992) on PBS quite by accident, and, golly, it was good. Mr. M-mv also enjoyed it.

Miss M-mv(ii) and I watched the pilot of "Due South" (starring Paul Gross of "Slings and Arrows"; entries here, here, and here) and loved it. Unfortunately, it was due back to the library before we could watch more, so we've put it on our "to-watch" list.

(And now I will interrupt myself to insert a little more synchronicity / serendipity / synthesis: As I was checking the links for the "Slings & Arrows" entries included in the preceding paragraph, I couldn't help myself. I had to click the link in the first entry. Wouldn't you know it? It's Gross channeling The Tempest.

And speaking of The Tempest (again), I already exercised the idea that Miranda and Prospero offer a Shakespearean take on a homeschooling, but I neglected to mention that I laughed aloud at Katrina Kuntz's delivery of Miranda's oft-quoted passage:

O, wonder!
How many goodly creatures are there here!
How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world,
That has such people in't!

She doesn't get out much! I thought. And then I mentally sketched a modern-dress version of The Tempest featuring Miranda in a plaid jumper and gray knee socks. How's that for playing to stereotype? Heh, heh, heh.

Back to the screens.)

Did I ever mention receiving an email offer from the Teaching Company* that scored me Understanding the Universe: An Introduction to Astronomy, Second Edition, for $174.95? (Yes, that's $625 off its $799.95 price tag.) Couple that deal with a coupon code for free shipping, and, well, SQUEE! The Misses and I have just begun watching it but already give Alex Filippenko three thumbs up.

As for seeing movies on large screens, Toy Story 3 already merited mentioning (in the same entry as "Damages"). I also steeled myself for the horror that is a movie theater experience to accompany the Misses to Despicable Me. Meh. It was entertaining, I suppose.

So, what do we have lined up for August? Aunt M-mv lent me Season One of "Breaking Bad," and we just picked up Hal Holbrook's Mark Twain Tonight! from the library. Obviously, we'll be watching the astronomy lectures for a while (there are ninety-six, after all), and "LOST" will command a lot of our viewing time near the end of the month.

I haven't a pithy conclusion for this long-winded entry, so I'll try something from the movies, all right?

THE END

Yeah. That works well enough. Happy weekending, folks.


* I am in no way affiliated with this company and receive nothing for mentioning either the firm or its products; see my disclosure statement for more information.

Semicolon hosts "The Saturday Review of Books." Consider participating this week.

I pray for you.

NOTE: I've reworked this post since the Misses reminded me that another song was on the table during the segment.

I caught a bit of John Williams' show on WGN this afternoon, during which he discussed issues surrounding the carnival target made in the president's image. Williams, Steve Bertrand, and most callers leaned toward outrage and disgust, and, frankly? So do I. I don't even have words for how utterly inappropriate the game operator's actions were. And for what it's worth, I don't think that finding such a threatening mockery absolutely abhorrent reveals anything about one's political inclinations. To me, it's simply a matter of knowing right from wrong. "An error in judgment," indeed.

Anyway.

The conversation had turned to free speech and how the things people say and do in the name of humor should be protected even if others don't find it amusing, when a caller asked if Williams thought Jaron Lowenstein's "Pray for You" and Carrie Underwood's "Before He Cheats" were okay.

Isn't it interesting how talk radio leads listeners down such seemingly unrelated paths?

I've already heard the Underwood song, so I listened to the Lowenstein song and formed an opinion (which includes the observations that (a) Lowenstein is not hard on the eyes, and (b) damn, that melody is catchy), but now I'm wondering, Are these songs okay with me? Or are they, as Williams and Bertrand seemed to maintain, somewhat frightening, sort of bad, and, yes, probably utterly inappropriate?

And so, since talking about songs is less divisive than talking about the news story that got Williams' knickers (and mine) in a knot, what say you, M-mv readers? Here are the videos: "Before He Cheats" and "Pray for You." And if you want to amplify your vote with a comment, add one after voting (scroll down on the poll results page) or send me an email.

What did you think of these songs?
	Funny (perhaps in a "darkly humorous" way).
	Utterly inappropriate.
	The ubiquitous "other."
pollcode.com free polls

Note added 8.08.2010: As I wrote here, there were a host of technical difficulties with this post, but I think I've resolved them. Perhaps it is too late to get many responses, but I am interested in your feedback. Vote, leave a comment, send an email. I look forward to hearing from you.

"I wanted my blog to do and say something else, something not that, if you know what I mean."

M-mv is featured in two entries at Fringe Magazine's blog.

More than a month ago, Nina Ignaczak wrote, asking to interview me via email. She indicated that she was working on a series about literary blogs for Fringe Magazine. Since I am wary by nature and even more so in my virtual interactions, it took a bit of an exchange before I was satisfied that her request was legitimate. (Thank you for your patience, Nina.)

She had many questions: Would you be willing to expose your name for the story (not required)? If not, can you comment on why you choose to remain anonymous? What do you feel is the role of literary bloggers in contemporary literary culture? What inspired you to launch your blog? What has kept you motivated to keep at it? If you have ever felt like giving it up, what has kept you going? How much time do you devote to the blog on a weekly basis? How has your blog gained an audience? Do you have an approximate estimate of the number of regular readers of your blog? Do you have any literary blogs or websites you highly recommend? Why have you disabled comments on your blog?

My replies are featured over at the Fringe Blog, and Nina thoughtfully reviews M-mv here.

(NOTE: Like me, you may prefer to read the entries as part of the Fringe blog's main page.)

Net neutrality: "[A] once-sacred tenet of Internet policy"

From "Google and Verizon Near Deal on Web Pay Tiers" (NYT, August 4):

The prospect of a Google-Verizon agreement infuriates many consumer advocates, who feel that it would concentrate in a few corporations control of what to date has been a free and open Internet system in which consumers decide which companies are successful.

“The point of a network neutrality rule is to prevent big companies from dividing the Internet between them,” said Gigi B. Sohn, president and a founder of Public Knowledge, a consumer advocacy group. “The fate of the Internet is too large a matter to be decided by negotiations involving two companies, even companies as big as Verizon and Google.”

CAUTION: Cat photos ahead

Once more, and this time, slowly.

From "Slow Reading: The Affirmation of Authorial Intent" by Lancelot R. Fletcher, described by The Guardian (see related entry / link below) as the first present-day author to popularize the term "slow reading":

The intention of the teaching of slow reading (which, as I said, is what I understand philosophy to be) is to subvert the customary mode of reading. Its intention is to afford students (i.e. those who make us the gift of their listening) some critical access to their own interpretive activity. The purpose is not to leave students with the notion that the text means whatever they wish to make it mean. That is pretty much the customary mode of reading that the teaching of slow reading wishes to subvert. These days students will do that pretty well on their own without any teaching from us. But to subvert this mode of reading we do first need to make students aware of what they are doing, aware of the fact that they are in the habit of imposing their own meanings on the text.

And later:

The teaching of slow reading, therefore, is an experiment that aims beyond itself. In itself the practice of slow reading intends to create occasions for joining in conversations with (not just about) some of the most powerful thinkers who have ever lived -- not merely to learn what they thought, but to think with them and learn from them. But the aim of slow reading beyond itself is to consider whether the practice of slow reading might foster the recovery of a certain art of conversation: that in which listening holds at least an equal place with speaking.

Related entry: "[S]low reading is not so much about unleashing the reader's creativity, as uncovering the author's."

Milestone

~ 250 ~

With an eight-mile ride this morning (a ride that included two treacherous hills), we brought our total miles ridden this summer to 250!