Best Book of 2007: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. While I had previously promised that DH would take all major awards, I’ve decided to be a bit kinder to the books I read this year. However, DH still takes the top award simply because I say so. And it was a fun read—J.K. Rowling may not be the best writer, and her dialogue can sometimes be cringe-worthy, but the world she created is still vibrant and highly imaginative. It’s a blend of ancient, medieval, Renaissance and somewhat Victorian sensibilities (with the Victorian thankfully not overwhelming anything) that leaves this lit nerd quite happy. As for Deathly Hallows itself, some confusing aspects of the Hallows versus Horcruxes importance notwithstanding, it was an excellent end for the series. While the epilogue was a bit cheesy, knowledge that the Wizarding world continued to thrive intact was appreciated (if grudgingly by some people)—in the end, this was a kid’s story, and having the hero die on all his fans might have been too much. Favorite part: Harry visiting Godric’s Hollow, his parents’ residence and resting place. As the visit comes to end, he experiences all that Voldemort experienced as he was torn from his body after attacking Harry as a baby. I am still upset that my Harry Potter boyfriend Fred Weasley is dead, but I suppose one of the Weasleys had to go. I just wish it had been Percy.

Worst Book of 2007: C’mon down, Margaret George, you are a repeat in the “Worst Book” category with your stunningly bad saga, Helen of Troy. Where do I begin (and why do I do this to myself)? Perhaps Helen’s idiocy in believing that everyone would share her delight in her illicit marriage to Paris? The marginalization of the gods, who are still present in some form, but whose characters are far from developed and only serve as excuses, not the master manipulators that they are supposed to be, for Helen to act as she does? The telescoping of time done clumsily at best, with Helen repeatedly mentioning that the 10 years (years never specified, by the way) that the Greek army is camped outside of Troy seemed like a few months to the obnoxious couple (though I’m sure the Trojans disagreed)? The only thing done right was Helen’s close relationship to Clytemnestra—something that George emphasized sans ancient support, but it worked nonetheless (as the sister to a marvelous sister, when I see sisterly relationships done beautifully, I appreciate it). George’s writing is wearing thin, but who knows if I’ll be able to resist her next opus on the twilight reign of Elizabeth I? That could be a comeback for George on this list in a few years (or, alternatively, I could read her Cleopatra book). Margaret George, rock on with your fifth-generation American self that writes cheesy historical romance. Not as bad as my reading of The Other Boleyn Sister years ago, but still pretty bad.

Best Non-Fiction: The award goes to One Perfect Day: The Selling of the American Wedding; this book will go a long way to aiding me as I plan my own wedding. As someone who will probably be getting engaged this year (it has to be said, IP), I appreciate the parade of purveyors of wedding products that I don’t need and that countless people will want me to buy. As I said in my review, it’s not a prescriptive book, but it does ask you to be aware of what you want and what they make you think you want. The book, I believe, asks the reader to be self-aware enough to admit that they do or do not want this kind of hype—and that subsequently leads to asking why they would want this type of hype anyway. The question phrased simply is this: “What is a marriage for?” Talk amongst yourselves.

Best Fiction: The Kite Runner. While the book relies on an amazing set of coincidences during the last third of its story arc, this last third doesn’t defeat the amazing sadness and sharp heights of alternative despair and joy through which it dances its readers. The Afghanistan that the book is able to present so vividly is the reader’s window to a world that’s long lost and just emerging; we can never understand it, but thanks to a great writer we’re able to experience it, albeit briefly. From the somewhat liberal culture of the 1970s to the iron rule of the 1990s, we see an Afghanistan under constant, painful change. Favorite moment: the death of the protagonist’s father intertwined with the marriage of the protagonist. There was something indescribable and touching about this sequence. It presents two cycles of life, with Amir achieving enough stability—the formation of a new branch of his family—to allow his father to pass away, succumbing to the cancer that has been ravaging him.

Worst Fiction: The Witch’s Trinity. I couldn’t get over how insensible this book was; it contained an endorsement from Khaled Hosseini, but I honestly didn’t see the appeal of the book. I could not follow the progression of the story thanks to the weak narration of the protagonist; instead of falling into Gude’s uncertain mental state and waiting for the next twist, I just thought Gude was stupid and couldn’t reasonably explain anything that had happened to her. The setting of scene was poorly done—I kept on imagining the Forbidden Forest from Harry Potter and expecting Hagrid to tramp by at any moment. My empathy for Gude was nonexistent, but my antipathy for the rest of the characters was real and constant—they were caricatures of the worst medieval (transposed to the sixteenth century, mind you) stereotypes, down to the unsympathetic daughter-in-law and unenlightened churchman. Big thumbs down.

Worst Non-Fiction: Radio On: A Listener’s Diary. Not because I don’t enjoy Sarah Vowell’s writing, because I do. However, I came to this book about 10 years too late and nearly a generation removed. Radio was never my anchor, and the things she sneers at as an early-20s-something are the things that I enjoyed then and enjoy now. Vowell’s writing is still nascent at this point—the over-focus on one particular subject (cough::Kurt Cobain::cough) and the disdain for anything unGen-X is frustrating, but you can see her style starting to emerge. As a barely Generation X product myself, I can say that I get a lot of it but I don’t agree with a lot of it. The defining moments of the middle range of this generation do not apply to all of us from that generation, much less society as a whole. The desire to overlay what’s important to you onto the whole nation is a frustrating exercise that a lot of mid-Generation Xers engage in and it’s obnoxious to say the least. As talented as he was, Kurt Cobain’s death did not signify the end of anything for me—and I do wish Generation Xers four to six years older than me would stop telling me that it indeed does signify the end of culture as a whole. Please.

Best Discovery: Susanna Clarke, author of Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell and The Ladies of Grace Adieu. Talk about setting the scene; I am no fan of Romanticism but Susanna Clarke manages to make me enjoy the place for a bit. Perhaps it’s because there’s an emphasis on bringing England out of that darkness (which, honestly, seems darker in the Romantic world than the writing that flourished in the Middle Ages—but that’s my hidden medieval professor talking). While it’s still gothic, nationalistic and relies heavily on the supernatural, there’s a fight against what I see as the natural darkness of Romanticism—and it seems that it’s Clarke’s pen that’s casting all the brilliance. It appears that she’s writing a sequel to Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell; I for one look forward to it.

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

The two books rounding out the 2007 book list are Marking the Hours: English People and their Prayers, 1240-1570 by Eamon Duffy and A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini. They were both exquisite books in their own ways. I will have to divide this post in two as Marking the Hours has ballooned into quite a post, but I can’t help myself—I truly enjoyed this body of research and the opulent images that Duffy has put together.

Marking the Hours is a rich detailing of the medieval Book of Hours (also known as horae), a primer of liturgical texts, prayers and psalms collected into one volume for individual use. Manuscript or printed, the Book of Hours is one of the most common surviving texts from the time period that Duffy covers. They could be luxuriously illuminated with elaborate drawings or standard plates that made it into mass-produced printed horae. Liturgical and secular calendars could also be a part of the book, with notes added by various owners over time (these books passed hands in the form of bequests or purchases). Duffy’s focus is more on the personal nature of the books as opposed to their illuminations or standard prayers; he pays careful attention to notations added, prayers and references erased, and (of particular interest to me) omissions deliberately made after various decrees by Henry VIII. The notes and actions give a peek into the lives of the owners and their times, if only for a brief moment.

As a recovering medievalist who still drools with anticipation at the mere mention of Catholicism in the Middle Ages or the Tudors and religious change in sixteenth century England, I found Duffy’s book irresistible: I’ve always been interested in the private lives of medieval persons, especially women, who were the main audience for the Book of Hours (though Thomas More’s Book of Hours, used while he was in the Tower, is examined here). It’s also an interesting angle that he discusses: how do these writings reveal the nascent Protestants in England? The Book of Hours doesn’t survive past Elizabeth I’s reign, and in fact the Book of Christian Prayer attempts to take the horae’s place as the English primer of faith by emulating the horae’s style (while including images of true religion destroying images of recusant idolatry); of course, Elizabeth’s reign brings a deafening end to Catholicism’s Counter Reformation efforts in England. How does the personal interiority of a Book of Hours reflect the social change in religious beliefs in England?

An example: I found it fascinating that so many books complied with Henry VIII’s decrees that made the pope simply a bishop and obliterated St. Thomas Becket’s place as a saint of England (he challenged Henry II when it came to Church versus kingly authority—a lesson that Henry VIII did not want repeated or respected and elevated in his lifetime). Was the threat of inspection so great that even a book as personal as the Book of Hours needed to be modified? Considering how many survive with these modifications, and how many survive overall, would it have been possible to be found out had one not modified one’s personal copy? This speaks to the censorship of both print and mind, to be sure, but also to the power of kingly authority over the church patriarchy; when physical harm was such an immediate threat, was it that simple to forget the state of your immortal soul?

The trappings of Catholic doctrine—such as Marian devotion and references to purgatory—are also crossed out, but these erasures are almost certainly Protestant in nature as opposed to simple adherence to any kind of royal decree. More interesting are notes left by, for example, Henry VIII’s first queen Catherine of Aragón and their daughter, later Mary I, in a court lady’s Book of Hours—these are crossed out in order to recognize the rejection of Catherine and her princess as Henry’s desire to remarry ascends in importance. That Henry’s need for an heir coincided with religious reform in this time has always been the fascinating question for me: how fast would Protestant thought have made inroads in an England that kept Catherine as its Catholic queen? How quickly did the pace of reform pick up speed when Catherine was brought low? These are only the beginnings of the changes seen in the Book of Hours left to us by time, which Duffy covers until Elizabeth’s reign, when the marginalia of the Book of Hours reflect the marginalization of the books themselves along with Catholicism.

I found Duffy’s examination to be quite thorough and relatively fair, but where I did question him was in the chapter “Sanctified Whingeing?”. Here, Duffy first discusses what he calls “elaborate penitential deference” in prayer, wherein there is a perceived “cringing tone” associated with the prayer in a nobleman’s Book of Hours—adjectives that elevate Jesus while denigrating the penitent in a roundabout, whining, insistent yet pleading tone. Duffy challenges Professor Colin Richmond’s assertion that the tone might have been a “particularly upper class one: the English nobility behaving towards their Lord as they wished others to behave towards them”. Duffy answers that, no, this doesn’t reveal any classist desires but simply emulates “Latin devotions which lay people routinely found in their books”; how could the entire “tradition of the Latin Middle Ages” be classist if it was clerically generated? Well, I ask Duffy to take this one step forward—the clerics were elders, religious elders, who expected and in fact demanded respect from the laity. Could these Latin devotionals not be seen as the laity having to behave a certain way for the clerics (words which, more often than not, the laity did not understand), a behavior nobles hoped to see in their inferiors? Duffy chooses to ignore this question, which naturally follows if we’re discussing the hierarchical ranks of the Middle Ages—rank matters, be it in the Church or the laity. Questioning of authority is a necessity when it comes to these topics, I believe, and I was surprised that Duffy did not pose the query. He need not answer it, but recognition of it would have given his argument more weight.

Not only an enlightening book, Marking the Hours is also beautiful—the plates that Duffy includes are excellent reproductions and are easy to scan and read. The book would almost be a coffee table book were it less academic in nature. Reading it was a return to the good old days when you would find me ensconced in a papasan chair, giggling at the Wakefield Master’s Second Shepherd’s Play or doing research on the conflicts between Catholic Spain and Protestant England.

I could say more, but I believe I will save some geeky gushing for the next medieval/Renaissance/Early Modern research that I read.

Onto the book list.

Finished:

1) Love Is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield
2) Galileo’s Daughter: A Historical Memoir of Science, Faith and Love by Dava Sobel
3) Helen of Troy by Margaret George
4) Writing Ann Arbor: A Literary Anthology Edited by Laurence Goldstein
5) You Suck: A Love Story by Christopher Moore
6) Bloodsucking Fiends: A Love Story by Christopher Moore
7) The Stupidest Angel: A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror, Version 2.0 by Christopher Moore
8) Radio On: A Listener’s Diary by Sarah Vowell
9) Evolving God: A Provocative View on the Origins of Religion by Barbara J. King
10) The Secret History by Donna Tartt
11) Behind the Scenes at the Museum by Kate Atkinson
12) One Perfect Day: The Selling of the American Wedding by Rebecca Mead
13) College Girls: Bluestockings, Sex Kittens, and Co-Eds, Then and Now by Lynn Peril
14) Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting by in America by Barbara Ehrenreich
15) Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling
16) House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende (Translated by Magda Bogin)
17) A Woman Unknown: Voices from a Spanish Life by Lucia Graves
18) Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke
19) The Uncommon Reader by Alan Bennett
20 The Ladies of Grace Adieu by Susanna Clarke
21) I, Claudius by Robert Graves
22) The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini
23) The Underdogs (Los de abajo) by Mariano Azeula (Translation by E. Munguia)
24) Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson
25) The Memory House by Lucia Graves
26) The Witch’s Trinity by Erika Mailman
27) Marking the Hours: English People and their Prayers, 1240-1570 by Eamon Duffy
28) A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini

Re-read:

1) Vertical Run by Joseph R. Garber
2) Beach Music by Pat Conroy

Currently Reading:

1) The Aeneid by Virgil (Translation by Robert Fagles)

Waiting To Be Read (Already Purchased, Got as Gifts, Borrowed from My Boyfriend, or Otherwise Accessible without the Use of Funds, But Not an Assurance That I Will Read These Before I Buy More Books):

1) Great Society Subway: A History of the Washington Metro by Zachary M. Schrag

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

Yeah, I’m being really productive here.

However, since I left you last, I’ve read six books. Not shabby! A quick rundown follows, with abbreviated, terse reviews. Sorry for the lack of detail and analysis (do I ever analyze, anyway?):

1) The Kite Runner: Loved this book, so much so that I have A Thousand Splendid Suns waiting to be read on the plane ride home. Made me bawl like a baby.
2) Beach Music: My favorite book as a teenager, I felt like picking it up once more. It didn’t make me bawl like a baby and I noticed some weaknesses that I didn’t note 10 years ago, but it still made me laugh.
3) The Underdogs or, in Spanish, Los de abajo. This one deserves a bit more exposition—a novel of the Mexican Revolution, my father is one of its biggest fans and had encouraged me to pick it up for years. I finally did, though I stuck to the translation rather than the original in Spanish. A mistake, I would say—I will attempt to read it in Spanish as soon as I can get my hands on it. I don’t feel that the translator did an adequate job, and it will be nice to read about areas in Zacatecas that I’ve been to in the original Spanish.
4) Housekeeping: I decided to read this a few weekends ago, borrowing it from IP. I did enjoy the novel and was a bit surprised to realize that its movie adaptation was billed as a comedy. Not something I’d peg as a comedy at all.
5) The Memory House: Lucia Graves’ first novel, I suppose I should read this in Spanish, also. I was less than impressed with this novel, especially since the reader was asked to take for granted that the heroine and her first love were definitely meant to be together—even though we saw them together few times, and were never properly introduced to the initial meetings that flamed their love story. The subject matter—the expulsion of the Jewish people from Spain—was fascinating, but the story could’ve been so much more. Exactly why were these two meant to be again, I kept asking myself, and why should I be thinking that it’s a shame that they’re apart, and why should I be thrilled that she boinks him one last time in her new home with her children by her husband (who is conveniently away and whom she claims to love) upstairs, asleep?
6) The Witch’s Trinity: Um . . . meh. I read this in the course of a few hours and wasn’t impressed at all. It did come in handy, though, since it was short and filled sleepless hours quite nicely.

As I mentioned, now I’m reading The Aeneid—Fagles’ translation is finally out and I’m thrilled. So far, so good, and the intro by Bernard Knox was excellent. Perhaps I should stop writing and start reading?

Onto the book list.

Finished:

1) Love Is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield
2) Galileo’s Daughter: A Historical Memoir of Science, Faith and Love by Dava Sobel
3) Helen of Troy by Margaret George
4) Writing Ann Arbor: A Literary Anthology Edited by Laurence Goldstein
5) You Suck: A Love Story by Christopher Moore
6) Bloodsucking Fiends: A Love Story by Christopher Moore
7) The Stupidest Angel: A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror, Version 2.0 by Christopher Moore
8) Radio On: A Listener’s Diary by Sarah Vowell
9) Evolving God: A Provocative View on the Origins of Religion by Barbara J. King
10) The Secret History by Donna Tartt
11) Behind the Scenes at the Museum by Kate Atkinson
12) One Perfect Day: The Selling of the American Wedding by Rebecca Mead
13) College Girls: Bluestockings, Sex Kittens, and Co-Eds, Then and Now by Lynn Peril
14) Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting by in America by Barbara Ehrenreich
15) Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling
16) House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende (Translated by Magda Bogin)
17) A Woman Unknown: Voices from a Spanish Life by Lucia Graves
18) Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke
19) The Uncommon Reader by Alan Bennett
20 The Ladies of Grace Adieu by Susanna Clarke
21) I, Claudius by Robert Graves
22) The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini
23) The Underdogs (Los de abajo) by Mariano Azeula (Translation by E. Munguia)
24) Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson
25) The Memory House by Lucia Graves
26) The Witch’s Trinity by Erika Mailman

Re-read:

1) Vertical Run by Joseph R. Garber
2) Beach Music by Pat Conroy

Currently Reading:

1) The Aeneid by Virgil (Translation by Robert Fagles)

Waiting To Be Read (Already Purchased, Got as Gifts, Borrowed from My Boyfriend, or Otherwise Accessible without the Use of Funds, But Not an Assurance That I Will Read These Before I Buy More Books):

1) Great Society Subway: A History of the Washington Metro by Zachary M. Schrag
2) A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

The three books I’ve managed to read are The Uncommon Reader, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and I, Claudius. All get two thumbs way up, with The Uncommon Reader taking the lead for most entertaining read. Not because it was written better than Graves’ novel, or that it decimated the short stories of Susanna Clarke’s alternate, magical history for England—it was just very cute and a fast read, and it made me chuckle quite a few times. In short, I was charmed by Alan Bennett’s novella. I’d recommend it for an afternoon of light reading, followed up by tea and crumpets.

Sorry, I just couldn’t resist.

Clarke’s short stories can be best described as ordinary tales of magic, moving away from the London-driven stage of Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, dealing more with the countryside (in particular, the north of England gets more attention as the hotbed of English magic, a detail I particularly love; I’ve always had much more appreciation for the northern writers). An assembly of stories ranging from commoners to kings and queens gives the reader another view of magic removed from the two men of Clarke’s previous novel.

I, Claudius was something I’d been meaning to read for a while now, especially since I read Graves’ translation of The Golden Ass last year. I’ve read his daughter Lucia’s autobiography and have her first novel in my B&N cart, ready to order. I figured I needed to explore a bit more the family.

I wasn’t disappointed with I, Claudius; I figured I needed to check out the novel that led to the BBC miniseries I happened to catch with Dorkus, which then led me to name my new computer Claudius back in January (an aside: all the WordNerdia computers, networks and peripherals are named after emperors or places in the Roman Empire). I have to admit that I did skim a bit when it came to the military engagements that are described in the novel, but the political machinations had my full attention. Should I sally forth with Claudius the God? IP says it’s not worth it, but I’m interested in the sequel, so I’ll probably try to procure it at our next used book outing.

And now what, you ask? I’ve started The Kite Runner and have ditched Lynda Mugglestone’s treatment of the history of the Oxford English Dictionary—much as I love the OED, I found Mugglestone’s prose to be a bit stale. Since life is too short to read boring books, I decided that dropping a history on the OED was not tantamount to intellectual abandonment, and so I moved on. The others in my cart at B&N: The Witch’s Trinity by Erika Mailman, Fagles’ translation of The Aeneid by Virgil, the aforementioned Memory House by Lucia Graves and, finally, Beach Music by Pat Conroy. I’ve read Beach Music (many, many, many times before), but I feel the need to re-read it. Hopefully it holds up as I last read it maybe six or seven years ago.

Onto the book list.

Finished:

1) Love Is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield
2) Galileo’s Daughter: A Historical Memoir of Science, Faith and Love by Dava Sobel
3) Helen of Troy by Margaret George
4) Writing Ann Arbor: A Literary Anthology Edited by Laurence Goldstein
5) You Suck: A Love Story by Christopher Moore
6) Bloodsucking Fiends: A Love Story by Christopher Moore
7) The Stupidest Angel: A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror, Version 2.0 by Christopher Moore
8) Radio On: A Listener’s Diary by Sarah Vowell
9) Evolving God: A Provocative View on the Origins of Religion by Barbara J. King
10) The Secret History by Donna Tartt
11) Behind the Scenes at the Museum by Kate Atkinson
12) One Perfect Day: The Selling of the American Wedding by Rebecca Mead
13) College Girls: Bluestockings, Sex Kittens, and Co-Eds, Then and Now by Lynn Peril
14) Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting by in America by Barbara Ehrenreich
15) Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling
16) House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende (Translated by Magda Bogin)
17) A Woman Unknown: Voices from a Spanish Life by Lucia Graves
18) Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke
19) The Uncommon Reader by Alan Bennett
20 The Ladies of Grace Adieu by Susanna Clarke
21) I, Claudius by Robert Graves

Re-read:

1) Vertical Run by Joseph R. Garber

Currently Reading:

1) The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini

Waiting To Be Read (Already Purchased, Got as Gifts, Borrowed from My Boyfriend, or Otherwise Accessible without the Use of Funds, But Not an Assurance That I Will Read These Before I Buy More Books):

1) Great Society Subway: A History of the Washington Metro by Zachary M. Schrag

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

IP is just as busy as I am—we both spent a huge chunk of the weekend in front of our computers, working. Fun stuff.  However, I get paid and earn vacation hours from the extra time I put in; we are going to use that money to get a nice dinner, probably take a vacation in the winter, and buy some books, damnit.

I haven’t even had the time to finish my post about the awesomeness that was the Jonathan Coulton and Paul and Storm show at the Birchmere on August 31. I started writing it last Saturday and had planned to finish it then; at some point, I wanted to get input from IP so that more funny moments could be included in my list of funny moments, but we never got around to talking about the show in reference to my post. Oh, we hashed it out a bunch of times, chortling in delight at the memories, but I didn’t have pen and paper in hand when we did. Alas! I will post it, but it almost seems a little too late. Le sigh. Rest assured, when we see them again, a post will appear almost instantly (well, the day after, at least). On that note (and I will ask again in my real post): please come back to the DC area soon!

The book list, though, contains a few new entries, and I highly recommend all of them. I wish I could say more, but I read some of them so long ago (it seems) that I can’t really comment at the moment. All I know is that I need more books because I finished all the ones I wanted to read. I am resisting the temptation to go to the BN.com website to buy more books from my wishlist. So . . . damn . . . tempting . . .

Onto the book list.

Finished:

1) Love Is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield
2) Galileo’s Daughter: A Historical Memoir of Science, Faith and Love by Dava Sobel
3) Helen of Troy by Margaret George
4) Writing Ann Arbor: A Literary Anthology Edited by Laurence Goldstein
5) You Suck: A Love Story by Christopher Moore
6) Bloodsucking Fiends: A Love Story by Christopher Moore
7) The Stupidest Angel: A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror, Version 2.0 by Christopher Moore
8) Radio On: A Listener’s Diary by Sarah Vowell
9) Evolving God: A Provocative View on the Origins of Religion by Barbara J. King
10) The Secret History by Donna Tartt
11) Behind the Scenes at the Museum by Kate Atkinson
12) One Perfect Day: The Selling of the American Wedding by Rebecca Mead
13) College Girls: Bluestockings, Sex Kittens, and Co-Eds, Then and Now by Lynn Peril
14) Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting by in America by Barbara Ehrenreich
15) Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling
16) House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende (Translated by Magda Bogin)
17) A Woman Unknown: Voices from a Spanish Life by Lucia Graves
18) Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke

Re-read:

1) Vertical Run by Joseph R. Garber

Currently Reading:

1) Lost for Words: Hidden History of Oxford English Dictionary by Lynda Mugglestone

Waiting To Be Read (Already Purchased, Got as Gifts, Borrowed from My Boyfriend, or Otherwise Accessible without the Use of Funds, But Not an Assurance That I Will Read These Before I Buy More Books):

1) Great Society Subway: A History of the Washington Metro by Zachary M. Schrag

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

Agony? Yes, that’s a term I’d use to describe the first reading of the book, but not because it was awful; on the contrary, I thought it was one of the best books of the series (Half-Blood Prince and Goblet of Fire are still fighting for the honor of best). It was agony, though, to read through the quest to find the Horcruxes and, for some time, the Deathly Hallows (three magical objects which are said to make the possessor immune to death should he or she have all three—a stone to bring back the dead, a cloak of invisibility that cannot lose its power, and a wand said to be the most powerful wand ever made). It was agony to see if the scraps the trio of Harry, Hermione and Ron got themselves into would lead to one of their deaths; it was agony to read about explosions and curses rocking Hogwarts and holding your breath until you found out if anyone had died in the chaos. As secrets were revealed and most become apparent to the reader and to Harry, you waited with trepidation to see where the new revelations would lead the good guys. To have invested so much in these characters, to immerse ourselves completely in a book for the better part of a day, was something perceived as a little crazy by some people; and yet, isn’t it nice to know that words can grab you in such a fierce manner?

As far as time invested in Harry Potter and how I came to like the series, it began in the summer of 2000. I saw my younger sister attend the Goblet of Fire midnight party, smirking all the while as I read what I then perceived to be loftier and more intelligent fare by the likes of Julia Alvarez and the Wakefield Master. I sniffed in disdain as my sister read Goblet during our trip to Mexico that summer, zipping through my own books and writing in my journal. However, 10 days in Mexico proved to be boring, and I finished my books and filled my journal with days left in our trip. I picked up Goblet as an escape, never expecting to be fully sucked in at all. At the end of the book, though, I was ravenous for the beginnings of the story, and already anticipating what would prove to be the 2003 release of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I was hooked, and walked away with the theory that Albus Dumbledore was evil (which I quickly discarded, but, you know—that gleam of triumph scared me a bit).

So here I write, seven years later, delighted to have Deathly Hallowsin my possession, a bit sad to see the series end. Like all of the series, the book was gripping, full of winks and nods to ancient, medieval and Renaissance history (which I love); the humor apparent throughout the first six books is less obvious here, but still there—Fred disappointed in George’s lack of ear jokes after the latter loses one of his is brave laughter in the face of Mad-Eye Moody’s death; tyranny appears not only as Voldemort but as Dolores Umbridge, making a reappearance, seemingly in her element as an employee for the Ministry under Voldemort’s power—her strength lies in following the rules and having order, not in sympathy and protest for the persecuted. Of course, no Potter book would be complete without a Harry-Dumbledore discussion, excellently handled since Dumbledore is, alas, dead. I walked away from the book relieved that I had finished, mourning the characters who had died, and thinking about the possible day in which my own kids might read the end, holding their breaths as Voldemort finally dies, defeated by a much wiser and compassionate Harry.

A few highlights:

• Molly Weasley, demonstrating that she is much more than a housewife by defeating Bellatrix Lestrange. True, you would expect that this is Neville’s battle to win, but he played a nice part, killing Nagini the Horcrux and proving to be just as threatening to Voldemort even though he chose Harry over Neville as his equal when they were babies.
• Unlike some other readers, I was pleased to see the Snape-Lily angle; Snape fell for Harry’s mother well before they set foot in Hogwarts, with Snape letting Lily know what she was and giving her knowledge of what world she was about to enter; however, her sympathy at his miserable home life was a good throwaway line, demonstrating her care of him and his life. Rowling hit the perfect note of two kids talking about the futures that awaited them at school, their worries, and their developing friendship.
• The deaths were hard to read, but they were done well; Harry digging Dobby’s grave by refusing to use magic was heart wrenching, and Fred dying right after he had reconciled with his brother Percy was a blow. (As a side note, I loved Fred Weasley—he’s the Weasley I would totally date, were he real and not dead and I lived in England.) The abruptness of the deaths of Tonks and Lupin was a bit disconcerting—we received no information on how they died, we just saw them lying on a table in the Great Hall next to Fred.
• Harry’s death, as far as it was a death: I knew that, with three chapters left, Harry would somehow come back even as Voldemort Avada Kedavra’d him. I knew that, but the build up to his death was a good exploration of his feeling as he walked willingly into death, feeling more alive that he ever had, accompanied by the shades of those who went before him. Even as he walked into the most fearsome situation he hadn’t even imagined, he did it willingly, he did it loved, and he did it with love.
• The epilogue, while I agree a bit cheesy, seemed like a pretty good end to the series; Harry, who has spent his young life being famous and burdened by the huge responsibility of saving the world (because us Muggles would’ve been screwed had Voldemort come to true power), finally has a chance at a normal life. He marries Ginny, has three kids, and gives one of them the unfortunate name of Albus Severus (I know why he did it, it’s very touching, but it’s still an awful name—sorry, Ms. Rowling). I do wish I knew what the principle members of the D.A. besides Neville—Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Luna—did for a living. I do wish we knew how George handled the death of his twin, Fred; I do wish we knew if Kingsley Shacklebolt went on to become elected Minister of Magic after being temporarily named to the position after the war.

However, you can’t know everything, and perhaps Ms. Rowling will be gracious enough to write the encyclopedia she’s hinted at throughout the years. Additionally, wouldn’t A History of Magicby Bathilda Bagshot (poor woman, by the way) be fun to read (a la Quidditch through the Ages and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them)? It’s hard to believe that it’s time to let Harry Potter go, at least until I have children or my siblings have children; then I can watch them experience the magic all over again, much like Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron do as they send of their kids to Hogwarts at the end of book seven.

Thanks for a great read, Ms. Rowling, that I think will last through the ages and delight many, many kids and their parents to come.

Onto the book list.

Finished:

1) Love Is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield
2) Galileo’s Daughter: A Historical Memoir of Science, Faith and Love by Dava Sobel
3) Helen of Troy by Margaret George
4) Writing Ann Arbor: A Literary Anthology Edited by Laurence Goldstein
5) You Suck: A Love Story by Christopher Moore
6) Bloodsucking Fiends: A Love Story by Christopher Moore
7) The Stupidest Angel: A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror, Version 2.0 by Christopher Moore
8) Radio On: A Listener’s Diary by Sarah Vowell
9) Evolving God: A Provocative View on the Origins of Religion by Barbara J. King
10) The Secret History by Donna Tartt
11) Behind the Scenes at the Museum by Kate Atkinson
12) One Perfect Day: The Selling of the American Wedding by Rebecca Mead
13) College Girls: Bluestockings, Sex Kittens, and Co-Eds, Then and Now by Lynn Peril
14) Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting by in America by Barbara Ehrenreich
15) Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling

Re-read:

1) Vertical Run by Joseph R. Garber

Currently Reading:

1) Lost for Words: Hidden History of Oxford English Dictionary by Lynda Mugglestone
2) House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende (Translated by Magda Bogin

Waiting To Be Read (Already Purchased, Got as Gifts, Borrowed from My Boyfriend, or Otherwise Accessible without the Use of Funds, But Not an Assurance That I Will Read These Before I Buy More Books):

1) Great Society Subway: A History of the Washington Metro by Zachary M. Schrag

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

But seriously, overall, from heading out to the movie yesterday to closing the book five minutes ago, all in the company of my siblings?

Worth the $256.81 I spent on my airplane ticket to Michigan.

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

“Don’t overdo it; go for simple, go for cost-effective. My parents wanted to give me a down payment on a house, but nooooo . . . I had to go for the stretch limo and the expensive flowers. It is not worth it. Save the money.”

And that’s my takeaway message from One Perfect Day: The Selling of the American Wedding by Rebecca Mead. Throughout the course of the book, Ms. Mead takes us to the Bridal March in New York, where brides-to-be attend a conference on how to do their weddings best, to the factories of China, where that beautiful gown you’re dying to wear is being made by someone making a salary in the cents, paid by the number of dresses her or she produces. We get to witness the foundation of the Bridezilla culture, which is the wedding industry encouraging women that this day requires a transformation of self, acquisition of what expresses her individuality (read: what’s most expensive) and the creation of tradition where tradition may not exist for a bride and groom.

The book is not prescriptive; there is no advice on how to make your wedding or your mind less susceptible to the relentless marketing that goes into attracting the bride and, to a lesser extent, the groom, to an endless array of luxuries, so-called necessities and practices thinly veiled as tradition. Instead, we’re introduced to purveyors of all aspects of the American wedding, from the planner to the dressmaker to the minister to the producer of silly baubles to the photographers/videographers to the destination coordinators who make it all happen for a heavy fee. The focus of the book is not the so-called Bridezilla, who must have everything, but the providers who make her creation possible. You laugh and cringe at some of these people, who so boldly and frankly manipulate the couple into wanting more. There is even mention of a warning about the non-traditional bride, who will be so easygoing about the entire event that little to no money will be made.

(I, as a side not, aspire to be that non-traditional bride. I love fucking with people’s heads when I know they’re after me, and if I can frustrate the hell out of David’s Bridal by not only not buying a tiara but also not buying a dress from them, I’d be happy with myself.)

The book is an eye-opener, a broad revelation of the monster we instinctively know is lurking about but refuse to acknowledge in order to go ahead and have that day without the nagging voice that tells us we’re being daft (that’s putting it mildly) for spending all that money. As I read through this book, I did take away some lessons on what not to do should I ever marry (“Ay,” my mother would interject at this point, “It’ll never happen!”). They are diaphanous, unformed ideas, however; my career gives me advantage over your everyday kind of bride, and I believe reading this book makes me a bit more aware of what I would face should a planning session kick into gear. However, until I begin planning, I won’t know the beast I’ll be facing, especially what form the beast will take after families have been notified.

Mead ends on a somber note, discussing the challenges that gay couples face when attempting to marry. The stodgy, hellfire-hungry nature of this country denies this civil right (and rite) to countless committed couples while Barbie and Ken marry when they’re 21 and are divorced by 23. Mead writes:

What if getting married was not simply something the average American—having found a suitable spouse—could do when he or she pleased, and in the manner he or she desired, but was a right that had been argued over and fought for? What if every wedding were a cherished victory won?

And that’s what marriage is to me—not the culmination of 16 months’ worth of planning compressed into the span of one day, but arguing and fighting and reconciling and knocking down barriers and being able to laugh and enjoy the every day together—and at times, apart. As I get older, it becomes less about that day (when I was 16, I admit I wanted it all) but about what happens after that day. How do we stand together—since, as IP is fond of saying, “We’re on the same side, hon”—against the countless obstacles that will be thrown our way? IP and I have done a lot. We survived long distance, not an easy feat; we’ve survived being together after that distance ended, a time in which many couples find they’re not compatible anymore; we survive the little and big things by simply standing together. One day will not epitomize all that we’ve done and will do; one day will not transform us and provide a foundation—we already have a foundation from which we’re building.

I would recommend this book to the upcoming wave of brides; the book is neither cynical nor off-putting; it’s simply a discussion on how the American wedding works, and what the forces are behind it. Going in aware is not a transgression, nor is it unromantic.

As a side note, IP initially sent me a Slate article in which the author detailed how she fell into the trap of wanting one perfect day, and discussed this book to boot—it’s how we became aware of its existence. I was initially hostile, and I wrote this little tidbit for a post called “Ceremonial Blunders” that never got posted on Sonnet87:

As IP later pointed out to me, how often does he send me this type of article? Not very—his point was that he was afraid of getting fleeced and duped, which is a legitimate concern as we start to discuss uniting our crazy, Catholic, Mexican, Jewish and Sicilian heritages. What made my female-meter freak was that it was sent without comment; I automatically assumed it meant that he would never engage in such foolishness, so I’d better stop hoping for any kind of invitation to become Mrs. IP (actually, we’re still discussing the name thing). His understanding of the article was simple—a seemingly level-headed woman who hadn’t wanted to make her wedding a big deal was getting sucked into the details. He was convinced, he said, by her initial relaxed attitude.

And most women will tell you that the article would inevitably inspire a Gertrude-like observation: “Me thinks the lady doth protest too much.” Sure the author may write that she didn’t care, but she clearly did, in the back of her mind—if you feel you’re immune to wedding industry peddling, you’ll be able to resist it when it rears its ugly head. But if you’ve secretly pictured your wedding—and you know she has—then you start to get an idea of what you want. And you find yourself relentlessly pursuing it until you find it.

The thrust of the article didn’t convince me that the author was sincere—so how can I convince you that I am sincere? Well, I have backup in the form of One Perfect Day; I have my belief that I’m working much too hard to not have a payoff when I’m old and grey; I also have IP, who is equally concerned about not letting this thing get out of hand should it happen. As the years pass and we don’t marry, hope is abandoned (our perpetual state of un-married-ness is the entrance to Hell!) and in the end, any type of wedding will do. As IP proudly says when I tell him what new portions of my family’s wedding requirements have flown out the window:

“In the business of lowering expectations since 2002.”

Onto the book list.

Finished:

1) Love Is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield
2) Galileo’s Daughter: A Historical Memoir of Science, Faith and Love by Dava Sobel
3) Helen of Troy by Margaret George
4) Writing Ann Arbor: A Literary Anthology Edited by Laurence Goldstein
5) You Suck: A Love Story by Christopher Moore
6) Bloodsucking Fiends: A Love Story by Christopher Moore
7) The Stupidest Angel: A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror, Version 2.0 by Christopher Moore
8) Radio On: A Listener’s Diary by Sarah Vowell
9) Evolving God: A Provocative View on the Origins of Religion by Barbara J. King
10) The Secret History by Donna Tartt
11) Behind the Scenes at the Museum by Kate Atkinson
12) One Perfect Day: The Selling of the American Wedding by Rebecca Mead

Re-read:

1) Vertical Run by Joseph R. Garber

Currently Reading:

1) Lost for Words: Hidden History of Oxford English Dictionary by Lynda Mugglestone

Waiting To Be Read (Already Purchased, Got as Gifts, Borrowed from My Boyfriend, or Otherwise Accessible without the Use of Funds, But Not an Assurance That I Will Read These Before I Buy More Books):

1) Great Society Subway: A History of the Washington Metro by Zachary M. Schrag
2) College Girls: Bluestockings, Sex Kittens, and Co-Eds, Then and Now by Lynn Peril

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

So we descend into the cloistered world of Vermont, at a college that’s defined as top-notch and yet admits students that are sub-par or never graduated high school. Published in the early 90s and written by Donna Tartt, The Secret History came as a recommendation after I did a search on Barnes and Noble.com for Paullina Simons’ Red Leaves, which I read way back in the mid-90s. Defined by many outlets as a murder mystery, The Secret History seemed to me to be anything but. There is a murder, of course, but we know right away who did it. We don’t know why they did it, but the reader builds to that purposefully. It is a tragic story, not easily defined by the labels used in the publishing world or in pop culture. The motifs of a Greek tragedy stand out, and given how entwined its characters and plot are with the classics, it can almost be defined as a Greek tragedy out of time.

Centered on six students at Hampden College who are classics students under the engaging Julian Morrow, the book was Tartt’s first novel and a bestseller. Richard Papen, a transfer student from California, is the novel’s narrator, and sixth and final member of the group, joining it after helping the others with a particularly difficult Greek translation. With some advice from the students (Henry, twins Charles and Camilla, Francis, and the terribly annoying yet doomed Bunny [Edmund]), the narrator impresses Julian in their first meeting as potential professor and student, and is given entry into the classics program from which he had previously been denied entry since the program was full according to Julian.

Upon his admission to the group, Richard is privy to a world where lofty intellectualism and privilege dominate even as a couple of members are not as well off in both areas as the others. The group’s dynamics are convoluted, incestuous, and ultimately murderous, but there is an almost alarming appeal to being part of a group so dedicated to their area of study that they actually try to recreate an ancient mystic ritual, the bacchanal (and, uh, mess up badly in the, uh, execution of it, and leads to all their subsequent troubles). Tartt’s writing is splendid, though having seen how far some people can take their studies, she did not have to convince me that such dedication to authenticity exists.

The very weird and delightful thing about Tartt’s writing was that I wasn’t exactly sure, at first, what time period the students were supposed to be in. It’s written in a very pseudo-Victorian-into-Modern literary style, and while that might normally turn off this medievalist, it worked for this novel. I finally came to realize what the time period was when choice drugs were introduced and some music was discussed—at first I thought that it was the 1920s, then the 1960s when references to hippies were mentioned, and finally came to the 1980s as lines of coke sprung onto the stage. However, Julian’s students, being so focused on the past, gave an air of times past—and it fit perfectly with their relatively oddball personalities and field of choice.

I disagree with a few reviews out there, primarily on the character of Henry. Henry, because of his role as leader of the students, was said to be a very sinister character—I differ in my opinion of him. Of course, as instigator of the bacchanal and the events that stem from that night, he is not an innocent character. He is not redeemable, either, but he is sympathetic. He cared for his friends—as evidenced by a few instances involving Camilla and Richard—but his obsession with bringing the past to his time leads to a corruption of the same friends and a needed downfall. His is a character richly developed but swathed in shadows—you never truly know Henry as his conversations with Richard seldom border on the intimate. However, even after all that happens, you sense love and something like respect emanating from the other students towards Henry. There is something otherworldly about him, and you can’t help walking away wishing you knew more. Unreadable and formal, Henry’s accomplishment of being able to let go leads to disastrous results for all involved; he is not justifying it, but is pleased that he has, finally, lived.

Tartt’s novel is the type of novel I always wished to write, but am unable to do so. Suffused with knowledge, amazing characterization and a sound plot. Alas, I’m not that terrific of a writer. However, those who can’t, read.

And continue to read I shall, as I’m now tackling Lynda Mugglestone’s Lost for Words: Hidden History of Oxford English Dictionary. So far a very engaging and scholarly work, I couldn’t help giggling like crazy when I read about instances of letters of the alphabet being completely lost. There is something very tickling about James Murray writing incredulously to Frederick Furnivall about the letter “Q” missing and asking if Furnivall will at least start a hunt for it. I’m sure Dr. Murray did not find it amusing at the time at all, though.

All right, then! Onto the book list!

Finished:

1) Love Is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield
2) Galileo’s Daughter: A Historical Memoir of Science, Faith and Loveby Dava Sobel
3) Helen of Troy by Margaret George
4) Writing Ann Arbor: A Literary Anthology Edited by Laurence Goldstein
5) You Suck: A Love Story by Christopher Moore
6) Bloodsucking Fiends: A Love Story by Christopher Moore
7) The Stupidest Angel: A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror, Version 2.0 by Christopher Moore
8) Radio On: A Listener’s Diary by Sarah Vowell
9) Evolving God: A Provocative View on the Origins of Religion by Barbara J. King
10) The Secret History by Donna Tartt

Re-read:

1) Vertical Run by Joseph R. Garber

Currently Reading:

1) Lost for Words: Hidden History of Oxford English Dictionary by Lynda Mugglestone

Waiting To Be Read (Already Purchased, Got as Gifts, Borrowed from My Boyfriend, or Otherwise Accessible without the Use of Funds, But Not an Assurance That I Will Read These Before I Buy More Books):

1) Great Society Subway: A History of the Washington Metro by Zachary M. Schrag
2) College Girls: Bluestockings, Sex Kittens, and Co-Eds, Then and Now by Lynn Peril

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.

Actually, no, I never bought alcohol with a fake ID like Homer Simpson, but when I was 17, I did read Joseph R. Garber’s Vertical Run about 10 times. For some reason, I absolutely loved that book—I liked the idea of evil contractors doing bio warfare research, an unwitting executive with a Vietnam history accidentally getting infected with one particular germ that could kill humanity, his would-be killers doing everything they could to capture him but being unable to because he was an elite soldier. I loved that he didn’t know what was going on until nearly the end, and that he got away; loved that the end of the book more or less confirms that the bug wasn’t lethal once special parameters were applied, and that the protagonist was probably alive and well and about to create a media frenzy with the help of the Vietnam commander he once betrayed (but who still loves him like a son) and the woman who helped him out as the evil contractors tried to kill him. Given that I’d been reading yarns by Michael Crichton and his ilk at the time, Vertical Run fit into my then-literary tastes.

Thank God I have matured.

Not that Vertical Run is a terrible read—far from it. It’s a good enough thriller, still clever when it comes to the descriptions of conflict, but a little lacking in character development. Not much is needed, however; David Elliot is the only one you’re really supposed to care about, though Mamba Jack Kreuter is a pretty good sketch that could’ve been developed more. I picked it up at the Wheaton Library’s used bookstore—once I spotted it, I knew it was coming home with me. I finally got around to rereading it this week. Time has worn away at the book; technologies that were cutting edge back in 1995 produce titters of nostalgic glee in 2007; a college education in English literature made me cluck at some of the writing. The pace, which seemed so fast back in 1995, seems a bit plodding in 2007. It is still a fast read, but it’s easier to spot the weaknesses, plot holes and sheer implausibilities of Vertical Run.

I still like the fact that he got away, though. Sorry for giving away the plot! The book was long ago optioned, but no film has been forthcoming (obviously). If it ever gets off the ground, a lot of modifications will have to be made to make the plot remotely resemble the novel.

Still reading the Barbara King book—it is a tough read because it slows down at times . . . it’s written for the layman, but the scientist in King can’t resist going to the history of her field, which at times is interesting, but at times doesn’t help me follow the overall thesis of her book. Ah, that’s what I’m trying to say—she strays. And as you can see, I’ve ordered more books that are currently winging their way to me. For now, though, you can add another book to 2007’s book list:

Finished:

1) Love Is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield
2) Galileo’s Daughter: A Historical Memoir of Science, Faith and Love by Dava Sobel
3) Helen of Troy by Margaret George
4) Writing Ann Arbor: A Literary Anthology Edited by Laurence Goldstein
5) You Suck: A Love Story by Christopher Moore
6) Bloodsucking Fiends: A Love Story by Christopher Moore
7) The Stupidest Angel: A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror, Version 2.0 by Christopher Moore
8) Radio On: A Listener’s Diary by Sarah Vowell

Re-read:

1) Vertical Run by Joseph R. Garber

Currently Reading:

1) Evolving God: A Provocative View on the Origins of Religion by Barbara J. King

Waiting To Be Read (Already Purchased, Got as Gifts, Borrowed from My Boyfriend, or Otherwise Accessible without the Use of Funds, But Not an Assurance That I Will Read These Before I Buy More Books):

1) The Secret History by Donna Tartt
2) Great Society Subway: A History of the Washington Metro by Zachary M. Schrag
3) College Girls: Bluestockings, Sex Kittens, and Co-Eds, Then and Now by Lynn Peril

©2012 Sonnet 87. All Rights Reserved. Originally published by WordNerd for Sonnet87.com. This post cannot be republished without express written permission.