This is a link-up with book blogs Stacking the Shelves and The Caffeinated Reviewer, so will focus on what bookish/artsy stuff I’ve been up to (I know, I know, it’s all book-ish and artsy around here, but still). For general site updates (interesting stuff there too), check out this link.
Today I’ve been reading Valour and Vanity by American author Mary Robinette Kowal, fourth in her British regency era historical fantasy fiction glamourist series. For my reviews of previous books in the series – go visit Shades of Milk and Honey, Glamour in Glass, and Without a Summer. I’m enjoying the adventures of Lady Jane and Lord Vincent, whose skill for weaving images out of the ether and getting in to all kinds of life threatening trouble remains undimmed. They’re currently in Venice which is taking me back to my visit to this city of, as Jane puts it, “long graceful canals, arching bridges, and sun-dappled buildings”.
En route to and from the Miami Book Fair (somewhere between three to four hours from Antigua), I started reading Alice Walker’s Possessing the Secret of Joy (and re-watched the last Avengers film and watched A Quiet Place, since we were delayed on the runway due to engine trouble and then traffic) and it right away began pulling me in (love Alice and can’t recommend enough previous reads The Color Purple, The Temple of My Familiar, In Search of our Mother’s Gardens, Living by the Word, Her Blue Body Everything We Know). I did re-shelve a book in progress, something I rarely do, but re-shelving at least means I’m open to revisiting it; and moved Evolution by Belizean writer Felene Cayetano, whose poetry and fiction I have enjoyed, what I’ve read of it, off the shelf to the active reading pile – haven’t started reading it though. Since we’re on the subject of books, I do hope you’ll consider adding one of mine to your shopping list.
I haven’t watched any new films or much television (it’s been a catch-upcatch-upcatch-up sort of week) but I am watching The Walking Dead again (yes, after my whole has it become soulless torture porn post of a couple years ago). I mean, I never stopped 100 percent but the last couple of seasons (in fact the entire Negan arc), it wasn’t appointment TV for me as it had been in the early seasons. With Andrew Lincoln (whom I’ve loved since Love, Actually) set to leave, I tuned in (maybe to say goodbye, I don’t know) and kinda kept tuning in. In discussing with another Dead head, I said, The Walking Dead without Rick is not the same but it’s not trash…his final episode is rough for fans of the Sheriff (as I am) but, as happens, when we lose someone or there is a major disruption in our lives (or favourite TV show), because things are shifting trying to adjust to the change, new and sometimes interesting things happen even as we grieve…plus the time jump helped.
The only other thing I viewed, apart from clips from my favourite satyrists who make the Drumpfocalypse bearable, was Jane Fonda in Five Acts – which pretty much covered the same ground as her book, My Life So Far, which I read and reviewed some time ago. Still interesting; she’s led an interesting life. One of my takeaways, the way women (even seemingly strong, feminist women like Jane) are conditioned to fit and shape themselves to the men in their lives (an element of male privilege), often at cost of their own identity, but if you live long enough and stay open to self-reflection, you can find yourself…hopefully before it’s too late.