After finishing two "projects" back-to-back, I wanted something a little lighter. And I had just the thing: The First Assistant, by Clare Naylor and Mimi Hare. I read the original right around this time last year. In re-reading that post, I was a little surprised at all I had to say about chick lit in general. I still think I'm right, I'm just a little surprised that that book was my case study, because I liked it more than I let on.
Lizzie is a little more settled in at her job as First Assistant now. Her former immediate boss has left The Agency to marry their real boss and have his child. Lizzie's still not all that wonderful at her job (the book opens with her admission that she just burned six months worth of filing because she wanted to play Sudoko instead. Oy!), but she enjoys it, for the most part. Things are rocky with her boyfriend Luke (still an asshole), as he's gone more often than he's in town. Lizzie's decided now that she wants to work her own way up the Hollywood ladder and produce. Her friend from the coffee shop screwed her out of a production credit when his movie got signed, but panicked after a bad screening. In one of the funnier scenes in the book, they both visit his agent, completely hammered, and get her reinstated as producer (this is important to the rest of the book).
The best part of the book comes when Lizzie winds up getting "traded" to a hot teen star for an on-location shoot in Thailand. Lizzie's vehemently opposed to going (her boss is getting a rare sports car in exchange) until her current boyfriend appears on the cover of People magazine with who she thought was his ex-girlfriend, in a story about the rekindling of their romance. I was going to say first that Emerald Everhart was obviously supposed to be Britney Spears...then Lindsay Lohan, but depressingly, she could represent any number of young, allegedly "wholesome" teen stars.
Lizzie's first task is to get a drunken, half-naked Emerald to stop stripping on the bar in the first-class airport lounge at 10AM, and it's pretty much all downhill from there. Emerald's an intriguing character. Her sex life and drug use would put the members of Motley Crue to shame, but she also clearly needs boundaries and a genuine friend in her life. She's extremely confused, gets good advice from no one, and needs someone to trust. Lizzie rises admirably to the occasion during her month with Emerald, and it's the part of the book that has the most heart (as well as being the funniest).
The book had a similar bizarre, deus-ex-machina ending as the first one. The Fates set Lizzie up once again for the same kind of hollow success. She gets the surface of everything she wants -- the job and the guy -- but not the reality. It has a seeminly happy ending, but does it really? Will her new job as part of Hollywood's Power Elite make her happier than she was at The Agency? Is she even prepared to take on such a task, given the roundabout way that it came to her? And will her relationship be any better on the second try? I guess we'll have to wait and see if the authors choose to continue Lizzie's saga.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Where I've Been: Project II
After I finished Helen of Troy two weeks ago, I went to the library. I was following up two excellent suggestions from my sister, but as neither of them were in stock, I proceded to rampage through the stacks like a drunken sailor (or drunken English major at least), checking out books as lofty as The Iliad and as earthy as The First Assistant (sequel to the chick lit masterpiece The Second Assistant). When I got them all home, though, I realized that what I really wanted was something like what I'd just finished.
It's a familiar feeling to me as a reader, and most of the time, I wind up being S.O.L. Part of the charm of Donna Tartt's The Secret History is that there is nothing else like that book. Harper Lee, Olive Ann Burns, and Ross Lockridge have written one book each. The latter two are dead now, so there will never be any more. And I've read everything by Fannie Flagg and Tawni O'Dell to date. In this rare instance, though, I had a TBR lurking on my shelves from Margaret George, so I blew the dust off it, settled in, and finished it the other day.
Mary, Called Magdalene is the most surprising thing: a fresh twist on The Greatest Story Ever Told. It almost doesn't seem possible. If you grew up in a Christian nation, the story of Jesus is as familiar to you as the sun in the sky, whether you grew up going to church every day or whether you only hauled your butt there for weddings and funerals. I grew up with the latter tradition and still know the story fairly well. For a time, we were attending candlelight services at a local church on Christmas Eve. I loved the music and the candles, but when it came time to tell the story, I found it thought-provoking. I wondered what it must have been like to live through that. I thought about how awful it must have been to have your baby outdoors in a barn, with the animals. I wondered if Joseph felt ashamed that that was the best he could do for his wife and son, and how odd it must have been to have the shepherds and kings and everybody coming out to see you.
Margaret George must have had similar thoughts, because the book is a very human perspective on the lives of Jesus and of Mary Magdalene. There's only slightly more primary evidence for Mary Magdalene's life than for Helen of Troy's, so this is very definitely fiction. The first half of the book doesn't involve Jesus at all. It describes Mary's life in Magdala, growing up in a religious family that dries fish for a living, becoming a wife and mother at a young age. As with Helen, it's a richly detailed account of daily life during the first century (Mary and Jesus are roughly the same age). Mary's story takes a darker turn as she becomes possessed by demons. They talk in her head, they attack her physically, and they invite more and more of their fellows in until she overcomes her pride and seeks help. Everything fails -- until she meets Jesus, who drives them out easily.
It's at this point that the story becomes more familiar to readers. We meet all of the apostles, we hear the Sermon on the Mount, and we're present for the final, awful betrayal and crucifiction. But we get it all from a very human standpoint. There's jealousy over which of the disciples are most favored by Jesus, although he does his best to quash it. There's a subtle attraction between Mary and Jesus. Judas himself even develops an interest in Mary.
And there's plenty of doubt, confusion and sorrow over what the disciples sacrificed to follow Jesus. One thing I'd always wondered is how the disciples could have been so certain, and how they were viewed by their families and friends. After all, the followers of so-called Messiahs in my lifetime haven't met good ends: they generally wind up drinking poisoned Kool-Aid, serving multiple life sentences for the murders they committed in the name of their leader, and what-have-you. In George's novel, the families of most of the disciples had similar concerns. Mary's family disowned her and kept her from her daughter. Jesus's brother James was furious that he was now charged with the sole management of the family business while Jesus got to tramp all over the countryside. In the case of Peter, it was his eagerness to repudiate his family that caused the permanent rift. There were false Messiahs back then, too, and only over time did people come to follow Jesus.
Many times in the book, Mary and her fellow disciples doubt their ability to keep going. Sometimes they don't understand the message they've been given. Other times, they despair of making a difference at all. Towards the end of the book, in a letter to her daughter, Mary suggests that the true miracle was what Jesus brought out in the people whose lives he touched. All in all, the book is an amazing look at a familiar story, one that I'd imagine would please the faithful as well as semi-agnostics like myself. Winter's not over yet, and this would make an excellent per-Easter read.
It's a familiar feeling to me as a reader, and most of the time, I wind up being S.O.L. Part of the charm of Donna Tartt's The Secret History is that there is nothing else like that book. Harper Lee, Olive Ann Burns, and Ross Lockridge have written one book each. The latter two are dead now, so there will never be any more. And I've read everything by Fannie Flagg and Tawni O'Dell to date. In this rare instance, though, I had a TBR lurking on my shelves from Margaret George, so I blew the dust off it, settled in, and finished it the other day.
Mary, Called Magdalene is the most surprising thing: a fresh twist on The Greatest Story Ever Told. It almost doesn't seem possible. If you grew up in a Christian nation, the story of Jesus is as familiar to you as the sun in the sky, whether you grew up going to church every day or whether you only hauled your butt there for weddings and funerals. I grew up with the latter tradition and still know the story fairly well. For a time, we were attending candlelight services at a local church on Christmas Eve. I loved the music and the candles, but when it came time to tell the story, I found it thought-provoking. I wondered what it must have been like to live through that. I thought about how awful it must have been to have your baby outdoors in a barn, with the animals. I wondered if Joseph felt ashamed that that was the best he could do for his wife and son, and how odd it must have been to have the shepherds and kings and everybody coming out to see you.
Margaret George must have had similar thoughts, because the book is a very human perspective on the lives of Jesus and of Mary Magdalene. There's only slightly more primary evidence for Mary Magdalene's life than for Helen of Troy's, so this is very definitely fiction. The first half of the book doesn't involve Jesus at all. It describes Mary's life in Magdala, growing up in a religious family that dries fish for a living, becoming a wife and mother at a young age. As with Helen, it's a richly detailed account of daily life during the first century (Mary and Jesus are roughly the same age). Mary's story takes a darker turn as she becomes possessed by demons. They talk in her head, they attack her physically, and they invite more and more of their fellows in until she overcomes her pride and seeks help. Everything fails -- until she meets Jesus, who drives them out easily.
It's at this point that the story becomes more familiar to readers. We meet all of the apostles, we hear the Sermon on the Mount, and we're present for the final, awful betrayal and crucifiction. But we get it all from a very human standpoint. There's jealousy over which of the disciples are most favored by Jesus, although he does his best to quash it. There's a subtle attraction between Mary and Jesus. Judas himself even develops an interest in Mary.
And there's plenty of doubt, confusion and sorrow over what the disciples sacrificed to follow Jesus. One thing I'd always wondered is how the disciples could have been so certain, and how they were viewed by their families and friends. After all, the followers of so-called Messiahs in my lifetime haven't met good ends: they generally wind up drinking poisoned Kool-Aid, serving multiple life sentences for the murders they committed in the name of their leader, and what-have-you. In George's novel, the families of most of the disciples had similar concerns. Mary's family disowned her and kept her from her daughter. Jesus's brother James was furious that he was now charged with the sole management of the family business while Jesus got to tramp all over the countryside. In the case of Peter, it was his eagerness to repudiate his family that caused the permanent rift. There were false Messiahs back then, too, and only over time did people come to follow Jesus.
Many times in the book, Mary and her fellow disciples doubt their ability to keep going. Sometimes they don't understand the message they've been given. Other times, they despair of making a difference at all. Towards the end of the book, in a letter to her daughter, Mary suggests that the true miracle was what Jesus brought out in the people whose lives he touched. All in all, the book is an amazing look at a familiar story, one that I'd imagine would please the faithful as well as semi-agnostics like myself. Winter's not over yet, and this would make an excellent per-Easter read.
Friday, February 27, 2009
A Somewhat Baffling BTT, a day late again
This week's question:
My first response was, huh? For two out of the four questions, the buyer has limited control. Not every book has an illustrated edition available, and if the author never comes within 1000 miles of your town, you're probably not getting a signed copy unless you're prepared to spend hours on Amazon.com.
As for the other two questions, for me, it depends on the book. I really prize my harcover, first-edition, purchased-at-2AM Harry Potter books, even though I got only the last half of the series that way, since I didn't get into them until the summer that book 4 was released. I bought my boyfriend a nice edition of Tolkien's The Children of Hurin, and I'm glad I did. I'm even glad I spent $30 on it when it's now remaindered at $5, because it was a more meaningful gift that way.
I have a couple of signed editions. One is John Elder Robison's Look Me In The Eye, which I got in the course of demonstrating my sincere interest in a job that since got cancelled due to lack of funding. Still, I'm glad I met him and glad I read the book, even though it's the "cleaned-up" edition that's suitable for classroom use.
The other is meaningful on a personal level: Dave Barry's Peter and the Starcatchers young adult novel. My family has enjoyed his column for many years. We were shocked to find out that he grew up in the same town as my father, and have since determined that he was a year older than one of my aunts and a year younger than the other one, but may have been in my grandfather's Cub Scout troop. Barry makes frequent references to where he grew up, teachers he had, and kids from his school. My father's always gotten a kick out of knowing those people too, and when the book was released, they finally had a chance to meet him. He was signing copies in Florida, and since I was the one who turned the family on to the columns, my parents bought me a signed copy as a gift.
Beyond those very few examples, though, I consistently go for quantity over quality. I'd rather have cheap editions of lots and lots of books than good editions of only a few. I don't have many hardcover books at all, and a lot of my hardcovers were second-hand. I love the remainder section at Barnes and Noble, because you can really maximize your money there and get decent editions of the books to boot. But generally, I'd rather just have lots and lots and LOTS of books.
Collectibles February 26, 2009
Hardcover? Or paperback?
Illustrations? Or just text?
First editions? Or you don’t care?
Signed by the author? Or not?
My first response was, huh? For two out of the four questions, the buyer has limited control. Not every book has an illustrated edition available, and if the author never comes within 1000 miles of your town, you're probably not getting a signed copy unless you're prepared to spend hours on Amazon.com.
As for the other two questions, for me, it depends on the book. I really prize my harcover, first-edition, purchased-at-2AM Harry Potter books, even though I got only the last half of the series that way, since I didn't get into them until the summer that book 4 was released. I bought my boyfriend a nice edition of Tolkien's The Children of Hurin, and I'm glad I did. I'm even glad I spent $30 on it when it's now remaindered at $5, because it was a more meaningful gift that way.
I have a couple of signed editions. One is John Elder Robison's Look Me In The Eye, which I got in the course of demonstrating my sincere interest in a job that since got cancelled due to lack of funding. Still, I'm glad I met him and glad I read the book, even though it's the "cleaned-up" edition that's suitable for classroom use.
The other is meaningful on a personal level: Dave Barry's Peter and the Starcatchers young adult novel. My family has enjoyed his column for many years. We were shocked to find out that he grew up in the same town as my father, and have since determined that he was a year older than one of my aunts and a year younger than the other one, but may have been in my grandfather's Cub Scout troop. Barry makes frequent references to where he grew up, teachers he had, and kids from his school. My father's always gotten a kick out of knowing those people too, and when the book was released, they finally had a chance to meet him. He was signing copies in Florida, and since I was the one who turned the family on to the columns, my parents bought me a signed copy as a gift.
Beyond those very few examples, though, I consistently go for quantity over quality. I'd rather have cheap editions of lots and lots of books than good editions of only a few. I don't have many hardcover books at all, and a lot of my hardcovers were second-hand. I love the remainder section at Barnes and Noble, because you can really maximize your money there and get decent editions of the books to boot. But generally, I'd rather just have lots and lots and LOTS of books.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Speak Up For Museums
Tomorrow and Tuesday are the American Association of Museums' annual Museum Advocacy Days. This year, the need is especially urgent as zoos and aquariums have been barred from competing for economic stimulus funding, history and art museums were nearly excluded, and museums nationwide have been feeling the effects of the recession.
Museum work is sort of an invisible field. When I told my friends and relatives that I was entering graduate school for it, they'd kind of cock their heads and say: "So what will you be doing, exactly?" One of my most intelligent friends, when I explained about the educational programs, collection management and exhibit development, said that she'd actually never considered that people did that stuff for a living. When I was doing my graduate internship, TIAA-CREF had a commercial that featured a collections manager, for just a second. I was so excited to see it on television, that I vowed to invest all of my money with them, if I should ever get any (maybe someday...)
Yet, the impact of museums is substantial. They are like cultural oxygen: most of the time, you may not notice their presence, but you'd definitely feel their absence. Museums employ more than half a million Americans and are an important engine for cultural tourism. In some towns (like Cooperstown, NY) they're the primary draw. In other towns (like Stockbridge, MA) they're key components of thriving cultural destinations.
Museums help communities in other ways. Several years ago, the staff at the Brooklyn Museum was faced with a strugging neighborhood, full of gang activity and poverty. They realized they could help, and developed a comprehensive after-school program that has become a national model. Children can spend every weekday late afternoon there. As they get older, they become more involved in running the program, helping out the younger kids. It builds self-esteem, it teaches them things, and it keeps them off the streets and away from gangs. The Tenement House Museum in Manhattan offers programs for new immigrants.
Museums are sources of pride for communities. They host interesting educational programs and enjoyable activities. They're often a destination for people with out-of-town houseguests. They're a favorite field trip destination for students and scouts, a popular activity with organized social groups, and an enjoyable place for caregivers to bring elderly or developmentally disabled consumers.
Museums add a lot of value to communities in many ways. But funding all of the things they do has always been a challenge. Very few museums are fortunate enough to be able to support themselves with admission charges and gift shop sales. Most museums look for support from private foundations and from all levels of government. With the economic crisis impacting both foundations' investments and government spending, museums are facing very tough times. A visit to the job listings of the AAM website will say it all. Most of the positions listed are either top-level management (that museums can't afford to do without) or unpaid/low-paid interns. The middle level has all but disappeared with the cutbacks in funding. Most museums will do just about anything to prevent funding issues from impacting their public programming, but it's only a matter of time.
AAM has several suggestions for advocacy that can be found at speakupformuseums.org, along with links to fuller explanations of the issues museums face. If museums are important to you, email your representatives and let them know. They will be hearing from me, and I hope they'll be hearing from you, too.
Museum work is sort of an invisible field. When I told my friends and relatives that I was entering graduate school for it, they'd kind of cock their heads and say: "So what will you be doing, exactly?" One of my most intelligent friends, when I explained about the educational programs, collection management and exhibit development, said that she'd actually never considered that people did that stuff for a living. When I was doing my graduate internship, TIAA-CREF had a commercial that featured a collections manager, for just a second. I was so excited to see it on television, that I vowed to invest all of my money with them, if I should ever get any (maybe someday...)
Yet, the impact of museums is substantial. They are like cultural oxygen: most of the time, you may not notice their presence, but you'd definitely feel their absence. Museums employ more than half a million Americans and are an important engine for cultural tourism. In some towns (like Cooperstown, NY) they're the primary draw. In other towns (like Stockbridge, MA) they're key components of thriving cultural destinations.
Museums help communities in other ways. Several years ago, the staff at the Brooklyn Museum was faced with a strugging neighborhood, full of gang activity and poverty. They realized they could help, and developed a comprehensive after-school program that has become a national model. Children can spend every weekday late afternoon there. As they get older, they become more involved in running the program, helping out the younger kids. It builds self-esteem, it teaches them things, and it keeps them off the streets and away from gangs. The Tenement House Museum in Manhattan offers programs for new immigrants.
Museums are sources of pride for communities. They host interesting educational programs and enjoyable activities. They're often a destination for people with out-of-town houseguests. They're a favorite field trip destination for students and scouts, a popular activity with organized social groups, and an enjoyable place for caregivers to bring elderly or developmentally disabled consumers.
Museums add a lot of value to communities in many ways. But funding all of the things they do has always been a challenge. Very few museums are fortunate enough to be able to support themselves with admission charges and gift shop sales. Most museums look for support from private foundations and from all levels of government. With the economic crisis impacting both foundations' investments and government spending, museums are facing very tough times. A visit to the job listings of the AAM website will say it all. Most of the positions listed are either top-level management (that museums can't afford to do without) or unpaid/low-paid interns. The middle level has all but disappeared with the cutbacks in funding. Most museums will do just about anything to prevent funding issues from impacting their public programming, but it's only a matter of time.
AAM has several suggestions for advocacy that can be found at speakupformuseums.org, along with links to fuller explanations of the issues museums face. If museums are important to you, email your representatives and let them know. They will be hearing from me, and I hope they'll be hearing from you, too.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Organization? We don't need no stinkin' organization!
This week's Booking Through Thursday:
I also got a beautiful new bookshelf for Chirstmas, so this vexing question has been on my mind as well. The problem with both of the obvious organizational systems mentioned above is that aesthetics matter. In the case of my bookshelves, size matters too. I have a hodgepdoge: in addition to the really nice, new one, I have two from Target (one of which also has DVDs) and one that my father built when he was in college. I've had it for so long that it used to double as a boarding school for my dollhouse dolls: the larger top shelf was the classroom and common room, and the smaller bottom two shelves were the girls' bedrooms, with half-pulled out books serving as the walls.
I can put only smaller (trade paperback-sized) books on the ex-dorm shelves. One of my Target bookcases has steel (well, steel-like) pillars as supports, rather than solid walls, so I need to have a large, coffee-table sized book on all four ends. Smaller books will fall through.
I was thrilled to have the new bookshelf, but the problem with it is that it makes everything else look crappy. Women who've ever broken their usual Target-and-JC Penneys mold and splurged on an expensive designer handbag or pair of shoes will recognize this syndrome: that new Kate Spade purse looks just awesome with last year's Sag Harbor sweater and those five-dollar-on-clearance St. John's Bay pants! And with books, I go for quantity over quality of edition. So, I have my ancient Lloyd Alexander books that I bought at the Scholastic book fair sitting on my nice new shelf. They look sort of dumb, but I ran out of nice books to put there. I also hate putting huge books next to little books. I think it looks bad.
I'm still shuffling stuff around, but I have no real system. I probably won't ever get one. When I want something, I just have to look for it. It's kind of a pain in the butt, but it's better than looking at a complete and total mess.
I recently got new bookshelves for my room, and I’m just loving them. Spent the afternoon putting up my books and sharing it on my blog . One of my friends asked a question and I thought it would be a great BTT question. So from Tina & myself, we’d like to know “How do you arrange your books on your shelves? Is it by author, by genre, or you just put it where it falls on?”
I also got a beautiful new bookshelf for Chirstmas, so this vexing question has been on my mind as well. The problem with both of the obvious organizational systems mentioned above is that aesthetics matter. In the case of my bookshelves, size matters too. I have a hodgepdoge: in addition to the really nice, new one, I have two from Target (one of which also has DVDs) and one that my father built when he was in college. I've had it for so long that it used to double as a boarding school for my dollhouse dolls: the larger top shelf was the classroom and common room, and the smaller bottom two shelves were the girls' bedrooms, with half-pulled out books serving as the walls.
I can put only smaller (trade paperback-sized) books on the ex-dorm shelves. One of my Target bookcases has steel (well, steel-like) pillars as supports, rather than solid walls, so I need to have a large, coffee-table sized book on all four ends. Smaller books will fall through.
I was thrilled to have the new bookshelf, but the problem with it is that it makes everything else look crappy. Women who've ever broken their usual Target-and-JC Penneys mold and splurged on an expensive designer handbag or pair of shoes will recognize this syndrome: that new Kate Spade purse looks just awesome with last year's Sag Harbor sweater and those five-dollar-on-clearance St. John's Bay pants! And with books, I go for quantity over quality of edition. So, I have my ancient Lloyd Alexander books that I bought at the Scholastic book fair sitting on my nice new shelf. They look sort of dumb, but I ran out of nice books to put there. I also hate putting huge books next to little books. I think it looks bad.
I'm still shuffling stuff around, but I have no real system. I probably won't ever get one. When I want something, I just have to look for it. It's kind of a pain in the butt, but it's better than looking at a complete and total mess.
Friday, February 13, 2009
A Project Completed (and a reader humbled)
I finished the wonderful Helen of Troy by Margaret George a couple of days ago. Reading the afterword was pretty embarrassing, though. Did you know that there's no evidence that any of that really happened? That's right, all my concerns about the story not being historically accurate were misplaced. It's like worrying about the historical accuracy of a re-telling of the King Arthur legend. If the author's got the Roundtable Knights setting out by car and keeping in touch via cell phone, you know that it's not, other than that, all bets are off.
Like the King Arthur story, though, this is one hell of a powerful myth. And George did her homework in bringing it to life from the point of view of Helen herself. The novel is rich in detail about the everyday life of royalty and commoners during that time period. She's imbued the tale with mysticism, without going over the top. Apparently, Homer's telling of the tale has two parallel stories: the earthly events concerning Helen, Paris, Menelaus, Achilles and the like, and the drama occuring amongst the puppet-masters on Mount Olympus.
In her afterword, George talked about the fine line she walked in bringing that element into her tale. I think she did an excellent job: Helen is visited several times by various goddesses. She's initiated into The Mysteries at the shrine of Demeter, she meets Aphrodite several times, and she is given the gift of second sight by a sacred serpent. Several of the characters have gods or goddesses as parents, including Helen, who was said to be Zeus's only mortal daughter. The gods and goddesses make their appearances at carefully chosen times, and were an excellent device for allowing Helen to describe events on the battlefield that she would not have actually witnessed.
Since the story is more myth than fact, George could take some liberties in fleshing out the character of Helen. The novel makes me want to read the Iliad and Odyssey for comparison's sake, but George goes into great detail of Helen's early life, which I would imagine is largely absent from Homer's tale. Helen's early life is strictly circumscribed: she's not allowed to leave the grounds of the palace, she wears a veil at all times, she's not even allowed to look in the mirror. The choice of a husband was the first real choice she was ever allowed to make, and he continued to forbid her much freedom. In that sense, it's easy to see why she got so completely carried away when she met Paris: he offered her a chance to do whatever she wanted, the only chance she ever really got.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book, and definitely learned from it. I'd recommend it to anyone. Its size doesn't make it very portable, but like I said before, it's February, where are you going, anyway? It's got enough action to make it go fast, but is steeped in enough detail to give it real depth. Although the story of Helen and Paris has never been substantiated, I tagged this as "historical fiction" anyway, for its attention to the details in everyday life.
Like the King Arthur story, though, this is one hell of a powerful myth. And George did her homework in bringing it to life from the point of view of Helen herself. The novel is rich in detail about the everyday life of royalty and commoners during that time period. She's imbued the tale with mysticism, without going over the top. Apparently, Homer's telling of the tale has two parallel stories: the earthly events concerning Helen, Paris, Menelaus, Achilles and the like, and the drama occuring amongst the puppet-masters on Mount Olympus.
In her afterword, George talked about the fine line she walked in bringing that element into her tale. I think she did an excellent job: Helen is visited several times by various goddesses. She's initiated into The Mysteries at the shrine of Demeter, she meets Aphrodite several times, and she is given the gift of second sight by a sacred serpent. Several of the characters have gods or goddesses as parents, including Helen, who was said to be Zeus's only mortal daughter. The gods and goddesses make their appearances at carefully chosen times, and were an excellent device for allowing Helen to describe events on the battlefield that she would not have actually witnessed.
Since the story is more myth than fact, George could take some liberties in fleshing out the character of Helen. The novel makes me want to read the Iliad and Odyssey for comparison's sake, but George goes into great detail of Helen's early life, which I would imagine is largely absent from Homer's tale. Helen's early life is strictly circumscribed: she's not allowed to leave the grounds of the palace, she wears a veil at all times, she's not even allowed to look in the mirror. The choice of a husband was the first real choice she was ever allowed to make, and he continued to forbid her much freedom. In that sense, it's easy to see why she got so completely carried away when she met Paris: he offered her a chance to do whatever she wanted, the only chance she ever really got.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book, and definitely learned from it. I'd recommend it to anyone. Its size doesn't make it very portable, but like I said before, it's February, where are you going, anyway? It's got enough action to make it go fast, but is steeped in enough detail to give it real depth. Although the story of Helen and Paris has never been substantiated, I tagged this as "historical fiction" anyway, for its attention to the details in everyday life.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
More Cool Stuff
The flea market in the summer has its good weeks and bad weeks. Sometimes, it's table after table of crap they couldn't pay you to take. Other times, you have to make several trips back to the car because of all the great stuff you've gotten, and later on, you can't quite believe your luck. On the same day I got the advertising piece, I found a whole tray of printing press blocks. There were about ten of them. I took some pictures of my favorites for you.
Country Kitchen
Faces from the Past
The Country Kitchen one is very large, about 3 x 5 maybe, and definitely has a neat graphic appeal. But the faces are quite striking, too. They're different from the rest of the blocks in this tray, which seem to be carved out of wood and plated with metal. The images on these are engraved right into the copper. Also, unlike the rest, their use isn't terribly obvious. Also on my shelf are logos of an area union, an auto club, an organization for antique boat enthusiasts, etc. Why were the images of these two women so important to someone that they had these blocks made to be used over and over again? What did they do with the pictures?
I also wonder how the differences in construction of the blocks would translate into the reproduction of the image. Anyone who knows much about printing is welcome to comment! Even if you don't, I hope you enjoyed seeing them. I enjoy looking at them every day.
Country Kitchen
Faces from the PastThe Country Kitchen one is very large, about 3 x 5 maybe, and definitely has a neat graphic appeal. But the faces are quite striking, too. They're different from the rest of the blocks in this tray, which seem to be carved out of wood and plated with metal. The images on these are engraved right into the copper. Also, unlike the rest, their use isn't terribly obvious. Also on my shelf are logos of an area union, an auto club, an organization for antique boat enthusiasts, etc. Why were the images of these two women so important to someone that they had these blocks made to be used over and over again? What did they do with the pictures?
I also wonder how the differences in construction of the blocks would translate into the reproduction of the image. Anyone who knows much about printing is welcome to comment! Even if you don't, I hope you enjoyed seeing them. I enjoy looking at them every day.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
