A Room with a View

"Girls at a Window" by Raimundo de Madrazo y Garreta

Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

Latest read worth mentioning - "A Room with a View" by E.M. Forster

I have read this little treasure a number of times, but it had been a few years since I'd opened the pages. The copy I have (Bantam Books) has an excellant introduction to the life and works of Forster by Mona Simpson which I found very helpful. My way of approaching "classics" is to read the work, then read the information about the work and author, then read the work again. I want to read it first with unbiased eyes, and take note of what catches me, what meanings I get from it. Only then do I do the background research, get the info, and reread the book with new eyes. It's been a good process for me, it allows me to trust my inner perceptions, yet learn from outside sources and grow from theirs.

What I appreciate the most about this little book is that it chronicles the growing sense of awareness and sense of self of a young woman. She is given the chance to see past the narrow structures of her life, and see what broader horizens are possible for her mind, soul and life. My delight in the story and some of his turns of phrase allow me to overlook the occasional banality or prejudical class statement.

I'm not going to do an indepth discussion of this book right now because, well, I'm just too dang tired right now. But I certainly commend this read to anyone else!

A Confession

OK, confession time.

I haven't posted for a long time. This is not because I don't love to blog. Because I do. This is not because I haven't been reading. Because I have.

It's because I'm embarrased.

The books I have been reading this spring and summer would not be what one would call classic or quality fiction. Oh no. I have heard the siren lure away from quality towards the you-don't-have-to-think-hard-while-you-read 'em, not-worth-the-paper-it's-printed-on novels you can get at the grocery store or Wallmart near you. (Don't worry, I didn't buy them. They've been from the library or passed on by family members).

Sigh.

Instead of filet mignon, I've been going for the greasy hamburgers of the literary world.

I feel better now that I've made my confession. Not that I have anything against greasy hamburgers. They are delightful. It's just that one should not make a regular diet of them if one wants to be healthy and performing at one's best.

OK, let's ditch the imagery. But still, you get the point. There's nothing wrong with what I've been reading, it's just that there hasn't been anything worth commenting on in the whole lot. And I've gotten lazy and haven't read anything that takes any effort in months.

Bad me. Bad, bad me.

So, what book to take on to change this? Hmmmmmmmmm??????? I must ponder this. Especially right now, while I am in between books. Before I fall into another terribly predictable suspense/ mystery/ romance novel featuring an independant woman who meets a rugged man under trying circumstances, and they solve the mystery together. And one or both of them almost gets killed. Before or after they jump into bed together. But they solve the case and gaze meaningfully into each other's eyes.

Or something like that. Not that I would know, or anything!