bedside table

This month is getting away from me, but thankfully not in the I Think I'm Going Crazy way of June. (you don't know the half of it! I never wrote up my interior elephant brain theory, a theory which either explains a lot in the "oh, yeah! interior elephant! I get it" way, or it explains a lot in the "interior elephant? what? WHAT?" way.) ANYWAY. July has been full of top quality people and adventures, which continues on through the weekend. (road trip!)

Here are a few things about a few books I've read more or less recently or am currently reading (although Candy Girl was many months ago). I hope to write up more of these in the near future.

The Wordy Shipmates -- Sarah Vowell (2008): finally started reading this -- I'm still at it, so I'll just give you this quote for now: "I'm always disappointed when I see the word "Puritan" tossed around as shorthand for a bunch of generic, boring, stupid, judgmental killjoys. Because to me, they are very specific, fascinating, sometimes brilliant, judgmental killjoys who rarely agreed on anything except that the Catholics are going to hell."

Candy Girl: A Year in the Life of an Unlikely Stripper-- Diablo Cody (2005): I read this ages ago and kept getting stuck on what to say about it (it's a gateway book to many discussions including feminism, the sex industry, self-esteem, journalism, sexual power, memoir, how much is too much, how little is too little, etc.) but this tiny capsule review thing is totally liberating! Here's the deal: Juno's infamous hamburger phone, love of retro slang and pop culture references are all over this book; there's also much sexually frank narration. If this knowledge fills you with dread and dismay, it's probably not the book for you. Also in this memoir: more than you ever wanted to know (if you're me) about what goes on in the Champagne Room. Cody's a very engaging writer and gives all kinds of fascinating strip club insider detail (wigs, performance names, clipboards, who gets paid when and for what, the dollhouse, the variable nature of personal dignity, etc.), but she keeps the reader at a distance. I don't think a memoirist is obliged to explain everything to exhaustion, but I did feel like there was a disconnect between what she was showing me and what she was telling me. The obvious comparison is that the book is written with the same kind of transactional intimacy as a pole dance -- you see everything, but she's not really there.

Moby Dick -- Herman Melville (1851): let's check in with the sailors of the Pequod.

current mood: "All was now a phrensey."

Ahab: still crazy.

Ishmael: sly joker. (genial desperado.)

Queequeg: noble savage.

Flask: butterless yet.

Starbuck: a worried man. (has a worried song.)

White Whale: at large.

Also reading: the Maggie Quinn, Girl vs. Evil series by Rosemary Clement-Moore. These YA (young adult) novels are written (with varying degrees of success) to fill a buffy-sized void. Instead of being a vampire slayer, our heroine Maggie has psychic abilities which she is just learning to control. The first book is her senior year of high school, the second has her in college where I expect she'll stay for the duration of the series. Like Buffy, she has a plucky smartass attitude, supernatural adventures, a mentor, friends, boy troubles, and more homework than she'd like. It's an interesting world with appealing characters, but it doesn't have the multi-layered metaphorical richness of Buffy. To be fair, the series has only begun and maybe it will deepen and become more complex as it goes on. These books are fun and fast paced, but I think they work best if you allow a little time from one to the next. I may have something more specific to say after I finish the latest, which is called Highway to Hell. (Road Trip!)