Books I (Somehow I've managed to have the foresight to predict this probably won't be my first post on books)

We’re a little over halfway through the year, and I was looking over my book journal (which I keep) last night and reflecting on what I’d read thus far this year. I decided, inspired by all the other great reading blogs out there, I’d put a list in here of my six favorites thus far. I’m going to skip actual descriptions of the books and just relate my reactions to them (because, after all, it’s all about me).

The Homemaker by Dorothy Cranfield Fisher – this book was originally published in 1924 and is one of the best explorations of sex roles I’ve ever read (far better than Maureen Dowd’s Are Men Necessary? When Sexes Collide, which I also read earlier this year). Every book discussion group in existence should put this book on its list. I wrote in my journal, "What a horrible commentary this book is on our society. I couldn’t help thinking what I always think: we still haven’t come that far."

Julie and Julia by Julie Powell – Julia Child, cooking, humor, and blogging. What’s not to like? This one literally had me laughing so hard I was weeping. And, of course, the added plus was that when I was done with the book, I could go read the blog.

How Did I Get to Be 40 and Other Atrocities by Judith Viorst – okay, even if you don’t think she’s the best poet you’ve ever read, you have to admit she certainly voices so many of your thoughts. I wrote about this one, "Books like these make me love women and all their similarities, as well as their willingness to honestly share their feelings with those who need and want that kind of honesty."

The Risk Pool by Richard Russo – if it’s one to be re-read (with all the billions of unread books I have to tackle), then I don’t really need to say much more about it, except that I’ll read it in bits and pieces, very, very slowly, because I truly don’t want it to end. I wrote about it, "I don’t forget much, even if I put the book down for a week and pick it up later. The characters are so memorable, I fall right back into it – like picking up conversations with friends I haven’t spoken to in years."

The Owl Service by Alan Garner – my friend Elmo introduced me to Garner, and I can’t believe I had never read him. He would have been right up my alley when I was thirteen or so. This one was both extremely spooky and highly romantic – a wonderful combination. I wrote about it, "I adored the ending: romantic in the truest sense of the word, not in the way it's been disguised and ruined in this day and age."

Juan in America by Eric Linklater – completely "unpolitically correct" in every way imaginable, but I can forgive it, since it was first published in 1931. And besides, the premise is so very clever. An amazingly fun romp! (An interesting aside: this book was confiscated from my grandmother once when she was in the hospital, because she was laughing so much, the nurses thought she might rip her stitches.)

And a note. 2006 was yet another year (inspired by an exhibit at the NY Public Library) in which I tried to get through Leaves of Grass and just couldn’t. I would despair over the fact that I’m completely un-American, because I just don’t like Walt Whitman, if it weren’t for the fact that I adore Edgar Lee Masters, Edgar Allan Poe, William Faulkner, Willa Cather, and Mark Twain. If I'm keeping company with those folks, there’s got to be some hope for me.