The Bedtime Canon
I find myself reading so much these days – books and articles directly connected with courses make up a fair percentage, but there’s also the Call of the Stacks: being in and out of the library so much, I can’t help looking up books I’ve either “always” wanted to read or have recently heard about and want to investigate. Sometimes just walking down the stacks, I'll feel a tug and see a title that wants a ride home with me. Then there’s the New Book section that beckons every time I walk in: display shelves running the length of the lobby with about 100 brand-new offerings on every conceivable topic. I haven’t made it all the way across without stopping yet. I’ve decided that if I reach the Promised Land it will have a similar New Book section with comfy sofas and ottomans and perfect lighting, and behind that the Cosmic Secondhand Bookstore where I have unlimited credit.
But I found that reading a new book at bedtime kept me too wired to sleep. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t read myself to sleep, but not with new books; I cycle a particular list of books over and over for bedtime reading. They are like settling down to reminisce with family, or like being read to by your mom. They are known quantities (though I often see new elements or have new insights as I get older) that I have been rereading for decades. I also have to admit they have shaped who I am – my values, my sense of humor, my perception of the world and my fellow humans.
In no particular order:
Tolkien's Hobbit and his Trilogy
Poldark Saga (7 books)
Narnia Chronicles
All of Betty MacDonald’s books (4 for adults, 5 juveniles); 2 of her sister Mary’s books
The Bastables (3) and The Enchanted Castle by E. Nesbit
Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women series (3)
Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s diaries and letters (5 volumes)
James Herriot’s Vet series (5 books)
Various Robert Heinlein novels (by no means all of them)
Computer Connection and The Stars My Destination by Alfred Bester
Little House series by Laura Ingalls (8 books)
Anne of Green Gables
. . and assorted single volumes such as Jane Eyre, Karen and With Love from Karen, The Duchess of Duke Street, Young ‘Un, We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Stay Me O Comfort Me (M.F.K. Fisher), The Good Earth, Pavilion of Women, and Imperial Woman by Pearl Buck, autobiographies by such diverse individuals as Agatha Christie, Zora Neale Hurston, Jill Ireland (2) Isaac Asimov (4) . . . and most recent newcomers, the Harry Potter series, as well as several others not leaping to mind at the moment.
Apart from Jane Eyre, none would be considered a classic in the pure literature canon (which is just those books being taught at any given time, some of which I'd read only at gun-or-grade point), though most are respected in other contexts. But whatever anyone else thinks of them, I'll stick by these books because for whatever reason(s) they resonated with me at one time, they stood the test of time and rereading - in short, they've become old friends. Some were in my parents’ library and some I happened across as a young woman; some are fairly recent editions, like the M. F. K. Fisher -- one of the many happy discoveries I owe to The New Yorker – I met her by way of her obituary therein. I also meandered into the unaccountably entertaining and unbelievably earthy Three Squirt Dog that way -- Pauline Kael had written a review that captured my attention and proved, not that it needed proving, that the lady knew of what she spoke, be it film or books.
But I found that reading a new book at bedtime kept me too wired to sleep. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t read myself to sleep, but not with new books; I cycle a particular list of books over and over for bedtime reading. They are like settling down to reminisce with family, or like being read to by your mom. They are known quantities (though I often see new elements or have new insights as I get older) that I have been rereading for decades. I also have to admit they have shaped who I am – my values, my sense of humor, my perception of the world and my fellow humans.
In no particular order:
Tolkien's Hobbit and his Trilogy
Poldark Saga (7 books)
Narnia Chronicles
All of Betty MacDonald’s books (4 for adults, 5 juveniles); 2 of her sister Mary’s books
The Bastables (3) and The Enchanted Castle by E. Nesbit
Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women series (3)
Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s diaries and letters (5 volumes)
James Herriot’s Vet series (5 books)
Various Robert Heinlein novels (by no means all of them)
Computer Connection and The Stars My Destination by Alfred Bester
Little House series by Laura Ingalls (8 books)
Anne of Green Gables
. . and assorted single volumes such as Jane Eyre, Karen and With Love from Karen, The Duchess of Duke Street, Young ‘Un, We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Stay Me O Comfort Me (M.F.K. Fisher), The Good Earth, Pavilion of Women, and Imperial Woman by Pearl Buck, autobiographies by such diverse individuals as Agatha Christie, Zora Neale Hurston, Jill Ireland (2) Isaac Asimov (4) . . . and most recent newcomers, the Harry Potter series, as well as several others not leaping to mind at the moment.
Apart from Jane Eyre, none would be considered a classic in the pure literature canon (which is just those books being taught at any given time, some of which I'd read only at gun-or-grade point), though most are respected in other contexts. But whatever anyone else thinks of them, I'll stick by these books because for whatever reason(s) they resonated with me at one time, they stood the test of time and rereading - in short, they've become old friends. Some were in my parents’ library and some I happened across as a young woman; some are fairly recent editions, like the M. F. K. Fisher -- one of the many happy discoveries I owe to The New Yorker – I met her by way of her obituary therein. I also meandered into the unaccountably entertaining and unbelievably earthy Three Squirt Dog that way -- Pauline Kael had written a review that captured my attention and proved, not that it needed proving, that the lady knew of what she spoke, be it film or books.
posted by Kathy at 6/20/2005 11:12:00 AM
8 Comments:
I sometimes think about the factors that made all four of us love to read. I remember Dad gathering us around the table at the Henderson house at night and showing us the latest volume from the Time-Life series (the one about sharks sticks out)and we were rapt; and the notion that books contained something exciting took root in our little heads. Joe was still in heaven.
Also I can't remember when I wasn't fascinated by all the books in the shelves -- I liked to play with them before I could read, and read all the titles over and over after I could.
I have daydreams about developing a program to help families that never had a home library start to build one.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
I remember the Doc Savage paperbacks; never read them -- or perhaps started them and wasn't that interested -- but the covers fascinated me. I think I spent as much or more time reading titles and perusing covers as I did reading.
One cover that haunted me was that of a paperback edition of "We Have Always Lived in the Castle" by Shirley Jackson -- great favorite of mine, such a chilling story and God, could she write. I was so delighted to find that same edition again about ten years ago -- found two copies and framed the cover of one. How I'd love to have the original art.
Which reminds me of another weird thing: I always want my "best friend" books in the same edition as when I first read them. Otherwise it's like meeting a beloved old friend who's had plastic surgery and just doesn't look the same. Or something like that.
We had so many games that centered around the encyclopedias; Jan and I would go through the dog breed section, or the costume section, picking out our favorite and least favorite on each page. We used the first entry of each volume, on the letter itself and its origins, to construct a hieroglyphic alphabet so we could write Egyptian scrolls for our games based on "The Ten Commandments" -- the movie souvenir book was also a great resource and I was delighted to find one at an antique show in Austin some years back . . .
Did some surfing and found the name of the artist who did the Castle cover I loved so much: William Teason. Was also able to download an image. Sometimes you gotta love the 'net.
Not only do you need the titles, you HAVE TO STAY and watch every last credit of a movie. I drive everyone I go to the movies with insane about that, so I often go alone. I feel so vindicated when some little tag is added after the credits. . .
I was delighted to find an old Tarzan juvenile with the Ape-English dictionary in the back. I remember Jan spoke fluent Ape at one point (she was a big fan of ERB) and the neighborhood kids thought it was Latin, us being strange Catholics.
Well, I like to watch for unusual names just because I'm geeky that way; I also want to see how many "assistants" the top honchos and stars had; how many personal masseuses, trainers, hair and makeup people the stars had; how many different FX companies were used; and to me the best parts are usually at the end of the credits: Special Thanks which are sometimes illuminating or curious; the music credits; and locations.
God, I need to get a life.
. . . and you wonder how you can relate to someone who has two general personal assistants as well as a personal trainer, masseuse, hair stylist, makeup artist, wardrobe assistant, driver, diction coach, nutritionist, stunt double, and stand-in.
"Where's Mr. Ford?"
"Somewhere in the middle of that big crowd over there."
I agree about the gaffer and I think the Best Boy (regardless of actual gender) is second-in-command to the gaffer. Grips, I think, are people who grip the equipment needed for the shot like cameras and lights - move them and set them up for the shots, the key grip being the head. I would guess a dolly grip sets up the the equipment needed for a dolly shot (camera moving on a platform or track). Them's my notions though may not be 100% accurate.
Post a Comment
<< Home