Reading Update

So another month before the end of the second quarter. I haven't read as much as I used to, but the bright side of that is I have paid closer attention to the word and the language I read. I just finished The Wings of the Dove but my mind still ponders at the unresolved issues of the novel. Kate Croy is quite a conflicted and perpetually conflicting character. I am somewhat compelled to forgive her treachery and greed after the revelation that her father, despite his meager presence in the novel, was the impetus of all her amoral desire. Depending on what your taste for writing is, Henry James for sure is not for everybody. What erudite, poetic and meandering prose to one might seems clunky to another. Narrative van afford this procrastinating, roundabout nature that the words never truly come out in dialogues but the conversations often are rather hinted, overheard, and not always understood. Anyway, nuff said about this until I finish my complete review, which reminds me to stock up on moleskine notebooks.

Meanwhile, I'm studying the Lonely Planet Thailand guide to map out details of the December trip that I revealed in the last post. Despite of the meager centerfold pictures and illustrations other guidebooks offer, Lonely Planet provides detailed practical information and directions. The editorial team contrives to update restaurant and accommodation listings. I ate at several of the listed restaurants (usually the local flavors and cheap eats) in Bangkok last year and had a delicious cup of latte at Passport Books in Banglamphu (near the backpacker haven Khao San Road with guesthouses and used bookstores galore). But the point is, a little preparation and planning will save you from wasting time and from falling into the traps of scams and touts.

I also bought my first ever pictorial novel, The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana by Umberto Eco, who is the author of two favorite novels of mine: Foucault's Pendulum and The Name of the Rose. Queen Loana's intrigue (though unpromising at first when I leafed through it) is appealing: A 60ish Milanese antiquarian bookseller nicknamed Yambo suffers a stroke and loses his memory of everything but the words he has read: poems, scenes from novels, miscellaneous quotations. His wife Paola fills in the bare essentials of his family history, but in order to provoke original memories, Yambo retreats alone to his ancestral home at Solara, a large country house reminiscent of his childhood with an improbably intact collection of family papers, books, gramophone records, and photographs. Should I categorize this to my vacation pile?

For those of you who are new to this blog, I have posted selected book reviews on the left column. You will also find what I'm reading at the moment when you stroll down the page. I'm still slowly working my way through Literary Theory, Alec Baldwin Doesn't Like Me... and Arthur & George. Thanks to Cipriano at Bookpuddle for pointing Jose Saramago's latest, Seeing to my direction.

Happy Wednesday everyone! Happy reading!