Saturday, August 16, 2008

I've known she-J. since I started working at a now defunct coffeehouse in Red Hook, New York. I got to know he-J. a bit at their wedding and after that. I like them both. This initial knowing was about 7 years ago, so we were all younger then. They lived in Rhinebeck in an octagonal house in the woods with their two dogs and cat. And I always envied them their sense of decoration, ability to keep plants alive and J's tendency to make his own limoncello. To be frank I very much wanted a similar life with my own significant other. Well, now they are way married, with two kids and a house they own in Philly. And though being a grown up and a parent is certainly not something to envy lightly, I still very much like the feel they lend their homes. And so, while watching J.D. and Marla I felt more relaxed than I have in months, because their house reflects my natural inclination for a home. Most of the time you would find me on their back porch, having a beer and reading a book and telling J.D. he didn't need to get up every time I did.
I didn't actually read David Sedaris' book on their back porch, I read it while going to C. and T.'s wedding in Indiana. But that's neither here nor there, really. It's good. Funny. David-Sedaris like, it really is an amazing skill--his way of moving from one topic to another and back again. Man. He's good.
Scott Spencer's Willing is one of those satiric, wack-a-doo books that I don't really enjoy reading because I don't really feel like I'm supposed to care about any of the people in the book. But it was, at least sometimes, relatively entertaining. Basic plot outline is as follows: freelance writer dude has bad break up, is given opportunity to go on luxury sex tour in Northern Europe, takes opportunity, stuff ensues.
Jodi Picoult has, in my mind, some sort of stigma. I guess it's the MFA in me speaking, no one ever mentioned this woman a someone worth talking about or worthy of emulating. And I don't think I'm interested in emulating her but her ability to write very compelling novels with extremely difficult moral and ethical themes is quite surprising. And she writes these books from a minimum of three different points of view (or at least this is true for the books I've read by her...My Sister's Keeper and, um, maybe that's it?). This one was no exception. My only real problem with it was when a woman with a less than stellar body (but great personality, of course) ended up with the traditionally handsome, blue eyed, tall British doctor. I can't really talk about my problem with this without going on a long rant and somehow betraying my own insecurities but, I'll say this: when was the last time one of your size 14 friends ended up with a tall, handsome, kind, British doctor (or his equivalent)?
Then I read Madeleine Brent's Golden Urchin. When I was in middle school (and high school) I would read Brent books frequently, or enough that I've read at least two of her books three times. When I began reading Golden Urchin I realized that a large problem with the way I expect one's (re: my) love life to go is predicated on the plot lines of Brent books (which is even more disturbing now that I have googled Brent and learned that the author is actually a dude and so he's probably like Jack Nicholson's character in As Good As It Gets...son of bitch). All the books take place in turn of the century locations, usually somehow related to the British Empire and the main characters are always orphaned girls of some kind (in Golden Urchin she has been raised by Aborigines...shut up) and then somehow they find themselves back in 'proper society' with their lives in danger and a man they care about who sometimes seem to really like them but other times pushes them away. Sigh. Of course the men push away these women for propriety's sake and in the end it all works out. I think this idea: that to have a 'true relationship' or 'true love' (I don't really believe in true love, actually) one needs to be rejected, in danger and persevere has had a very negative effect on me. But heck, at least I'm narrowing down on the roots of this theory.
The end.

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