Charles Dickens was born on February 7, 1812. That makes today the 205th anniversary of his birth. (Impressive math skills, eh?)
Twenty-four years later, Dickens would write The Pickwick Papers
Happy birthday, Charles Dickens!
Why I love reading classic literature
One reason (among many) I enjoy reading classic literature: It’s a finite world.
Having gone on to claim their “celestial rewards,” as Charles Dickens put it so elegantly (Pickwick Papers, I think, or maybe Hard Times?), authors are safely out of the picture. Therefore, they can’t get into Twitter wars with critics over how their work has been interpreted. They can’t reveal appalling personal views after I’ve already fallen in love with their work. They can’t continue releasing more and more information about characters or stories that obliges me endlessly to reframe the original. They can’t write sequels, disappointing or otherwise.
To be clear, I don’t mean to say there’s anything wrong with the above. In fact, I love attending author talks and hearing what inspired a story I enjoyed. I love being able to say to an author, “Thank you for this experience. Thank you!” I love knowing Nick Hornby and Haruki Murakami and Zadie Smith are still alive and well and hopefully, if I’m lucky, writing more books. Continue reading “Why I love reading classic literature”
What I learned from reading a big book
Earlier this week, I wrote about a big book that I doubt I will ever read cover to cover, in the process arguing, essentially, so what? Since I don’t want to give the impressive that I believe it’s always okay to abandon or only partially read big books, today, I want to argue for reading them all the way through. Continue reading “What I learned from reading a big book”
The unabridged list of what I read in February
February delivered what feels suspiciously like a reading slump, but not exactly. I say “not exactly” because I’m still reading (what else is there to do? I have few other interests, really). But I’m distracted and a little bit restless.
#ReadMyOwnDamnBooks felt like my anchor and inspiration this month. When I struggled to focus on what the heck I wanted to be reading, I turned to the books that, at some point, felt like must-reads. That’s why they’re on my shelves, right? Some of them I read completely. Almost as many, I read only in parts. Continue reading “The unabridged list of what I read in February”
On reading Nick Hornby’s The Polysyllabic Spree
I’ve been trying, unsuccessfully, to figure out which Gilmore Girls episode features The Polysyllabic Spree
Music by The Polyphonic Spree is featured in “Say Goodbye to Daisy Miller” (season 5, episode 1), but I have yet to find a reference to Hornby’s book. Was its inclusion on the official Gilmore Girls reading list a mistake, or does the book appear without a verbal reference? I dunno, but if you do, you are cordially invited to enlighten me.
In the meantime … whatever. The Polysyllabic Spree is on the list, and I embrace any opportunity to (re)read Nick Hornby. Continue reading “On reading Nick Hornby’s The Polysyllabic Spree”
#BBAW: 5 books that inspired me to do and be better
Today I feel inspired by The Estella Society’s Book Blogger Appreciation Week, going on Feb. 15 – 19. The day one challenge: “Introduce yourself by telling us about five books that represent you as a person or your interests/lifestyle.”
I love this because it feels so impossible. At first, I couldn’t think of any books and then I couldn’t narrow down the list. In the end, I picked five whose characters and stories have inspired me to do and be better, in some way. In my heart of hearts, I’d like these books to represent me as a person, but I’m happy for them to represent what I aspire to live up to and be. Continue reading “#BBAW: 5 books that inspired me to do and be better”
5 inspiring life lessons from Charles Dickens’s “David Copperfield”
Charles Dickens packs the whole world into David Copperfield
5 Times Charles Dickens Gave Me Fairy Wings
You know that feeling that comes over you when you read words so perfectly, exquisitely arranged, into sentiments that ring so familiar, with insight into the human condition that cuts so deep? And you ascend into such a deep state of bliss that you feel it’s entirely possible wings will burst out of your should blades and carry you up, up, up?
Or maybe you’ll just levitate, like Uncle Albert in Mary Poppins, no wings required?
This is how I’ve been feeling lately about Charles Dickens. Continue reading “5 Times Charles Dickens Gave Me Fairy Wings”