Probably not surprising to any of you, but I am not really the type to rent a party bus. Riding around town going from bar to bar getting drunker and drunker as the night progresses doesn’t really appeal. Although, now that I have written that, I must say that I would actually rent one in Napa and Sonoma so I could spend a day wine tasting without getting a DUI citation. (But, I wouldn’t need one with a stripper pole.)

And then I saw this party bus in a recent issue of Vanity Fair. Not exactly the same concept–a much better one. How about we plan blogger meet up next summer on the grounds of Blenheim? Actually, I would rather have dinner inside Blenheim so scratch that part. Where should we park it for our party? I think it seats about 22 for dinner. Whom should we invite?

1901 – Claudine in Paris by Collette
1902 – The Immoralist by Andre Gide
1903 – The Riddle of the Sands by Erskine Childers
1904 – Peter Camenzind by Herman Hesse
1905 – The Duel by Aleksandr Kuprin
1906 – Young Torless by Robert Musil
1907 – The Secret Agent by Joseph Conrad (ML100)
1908 – Love’s Shadow by Ada Leverson
1909 – Martin Eden by Jack London
1910 – Clayhanger by Arnold Bennett
1911 – Zuleika Dobson by Max Beerbohm (ML 100)
1912 – The Charwoman’s Daughter by James Stephens
1913 – T. Tembarom by Frances Hodgson Burnett
1914 – Penrod by Booth Tarkington
1915 – The Underdogs by Mariano Azuela
1916 – Under Fire by Henri Barbusse
1917 – Gone to Earth by Mary Webb
1918 – Patricia Brent – Spinster by Herbert George Jenkins
1919 – Consequences by E.M. Delafield
1920 – Queen Lucia by E.F. Benson
1921 – Dangerous Ages by Rose Macauley
1922 – The Judge by Rebecca West
1923 – The Ladies of Lyndon by Margaret Kennedy
1924 – Some Do Not by Ford Madox Ford (ML100)
1925 – Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf
1926 – Winnie the Pooh by A.A. Milne
1927 – Rhapsody by Dorothy Edwards
1928 – Quartet by Jean Rhys
1929 – The Last September by Elizabeth Bowen
1930 – Angel Pavement by J.B. Priestly or The Deepening Stream by Dorothy Canfield
1931 – The Square Circle by Denis Mackail
1932 – Young Lonigan by James T. Farrell (ML100)
1933 – Frost in May by Antonia White or Ordinary Familes by E. Arnot Robertson
1934 – The Young Manhood of Studs Lonigan by James T. Farrell (ML100)
1935 – A House and Its Head by Ivy Compton-Burnett
1936 – Summer Will Show by Sylvia Townsend Warner or Eyeless in Gaza  by Huxley
1937 – Lady Rose and Mrs. Memmary by Ruby Ferguson
1938 – Princes in the Land by Joanna Cannan
1939 – Pale Horse, Pale Rider by Katherine Anne Porter
1940 – Sapphira and the Slave Girl by Willa Cather
1941 – The Castle on the Hill by Elizabeth Goudge
1942 – Clark Clifford’s Body by Kenneth Fearing
1943 – Gideon Planish by Sinclair Lewis
1944 – Cluny Brown by Margery Sharp
1945 – The Pursuit of Love by Nancy Mitford
1946 – Every Good Deed by Dorothy Whipple
1947 – Not Now, but Now by MFK Fisher
1948 – The Loved One by Evelyn Waugh
1949 – Love in a Cold Climate by Nancy Mitford
1950 – Our Spoons Came From Woolworths by Barbara Comyns
1951 – A Game of Hide and Seek by Elizabeth Taylor
1952 – The Far Country by Nevil Shute
1953 – Lucky Jim by Kingsley Amis
1954 – Tortoise and the Hare by Elizabeth Jenkins
1955 – The Talented Mr. Ripley by Patricia Highsmith
1956 – The Flight From the Enchanter by Iris Murdoch
1957 – Angel by Elizabeth Taylor
1958 – A Glass of Blessings by Barbara Pym
1959 – The Flame Trees of Thika by Elspeth Huxley
1960 – The Bachelors by Muriel Spark
1961 – Catch-22 by Joseph Heller (ML100)
1962 – A Clockwork Orange by A. Burgess (ML 100)
1963 – The Old Man and Me by Elaine Dundy
1964 – The Garrick Year by Margaret Drabble
1965 – Everything that Rises Must Converge by Flannery O’Connor
1966 – The House on the Cliff by DE Stevenson
1967 – My Friend Says It’s Bullet-Proof by Penelope Mortimer
1968 – Sarah’s Cottage by D.E. Stevenson
1969 – The Waterfall by Margaret Drabble
1970 – 84, Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff
1971 – A Meaningful Life by L.J. Davis or My Own Cape Cod by Gladys Taber
1972 – Augustus by John Williams
1973 – After Claude by Iris Owens
1974 – House of Stairs by William Sleator
1975 – Heat and Dust by Ruth Prawer Jhabvala and Crucial Conversations by May Sarton
1976 – The Takeover by Muriel Spark
1977 – Golden Child by Penelope Fitzgerald
1978 – The Sweet Dove Died by Barbara Pym
1979 – The Safety Net by Heinrich Boll
1980 – The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco
1981 – Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie (ML100)
1982 – Wish Her Safe at Home by Stephen Benatar
1983 – Look at Me by Anita Brookner
1984 – Hotel du Lac by Anita Brookner
1985 – Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson  
1986 – Anagrams by Lorrie Moore
1987 – Postcards From the Edge by Carrie Fisher
1988 – The Temple by Stephen Spender
1989 – Passing On by Penelope Lively or Summer People by Marge Piercy
1990 – Then She Found Me by Elinor Lipman
1991 – The Translator by Ward Just
1992 – Arcadia by Jim Crace
1993 – While England Sleeps by David Leavitt
1994 – The Longings of Women by Marge Piercy
1995 – Behind the Scenes at the Museum by Kate Atkinson
1996 – Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood  
1997 – Grace Notes by Bernard MacLaverty
1998 – The Book of Lies by Felice Picano
1999 – Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson

  
The cartoon on the cover of A Book Addict’s Treasury by Julie Rugg and Lynda Murphy, while cute in its own right, is merely an excuse for a new batch of gratuitous Lucy photos.

  
Recently I was in Austin, Texas helping my brother-in-law get ready for an upcoming move. One of the things we did was sort through his books and figure out what would be kept and what would be sold. I offered to make the trip to Half Price Books to sell the box of culled books. Once there, the clerk told me it would take about fifteen minutes to assess how much they would give me for the books. Unfortunately, the buying counter was quite close to the “Books on Books” section. At first I thought I would just browse. Then one title ended up in my hand and then another. But wait, I didn’t have room in my luggage take anything back to DC. I soon found myself, however, up at the information desk asking if they shipped books. Next thing I knew I had a rather heavy basket in my hand filled to the brim with books.

When all was said and done, my brother-in-law got $26.50 for his books and I ended up spending $152.00. I too, have been culling my books lately, so what in the world was I doing buying books? Having fun? Feeding an obsession? Feeding my soul? Yes, yes, and yes.

Among the treasures: Two Anita Brookner hardcovers (one not pictured–now I only am misisng one AB first edition) and a Betty Smith novel I haven’t read.

I’ve seen so much about Enid Blyton on UK blogs, but I have never read any. How could I pass this up?

This kind of speaks for itself.

And then the Books on Books haul.

  

One of the most pleasant commercial spots on the interwebs for the bookish is The Literary Gift Company. So many wonderful things. I love it.

One of their offerings is this literary map of the United States of America. I recognize that, like any book list, the map is essentially an exercise in subjectivity. I don’t hate this map. But a couple of things bother me slightly. The first is the location of certain authors. It must have been hard to decide where to put certain authors. Do you place their names in their birthplaces or where they spent most of their lives, or where they set most of their work? I get it. But I still take exception to things like the largish F. Scott Fitzgerald being placed in his (and my own) natal state of Minnesota. Does anyone think of Minnesota when they think of Fitzgerald, I mean besides Minnesotans? Not likely. He should be near East Egg and West Egg. Not only is Gatsby his most popular novel, but it is easily one of the seminal works of American fiction. I also take exception to Garrison Keillor’s name being more prominent than Sinclair Lewis’s. I like Garrison Keillor, but his writing is but a shadow of the literary icon Lewis.

I understand why the literary cartographers would want to shift Fitzgerald to his Midwestern roots. Not only are there far more northeastern authors, but they are all duking it out for a fairly small geographic area. Geography also wreaks havoc with how big an author’s name should  be. Based on this map you would think that E. Annie Proulx and Black Elk (who?) were the biggest writers to come along before and since sliced bread. Literary figures who tower above the likes of Walt Whitman and Mark Twain.

If I could actually see the map up close I am sure I would have even more challenges with it. But I don’t need to turn this into a flaming rant. I will just leave it as a slightly excited observation with the occasional raised voice.

They have also made one for the UK, but I will leave that critque to my friends across the water.

  
Barbara Pym is turning 100
The effervescent Amanda at Fig and Thistle (@nerdybookgirl) sent me a message this week on Facebook telling me that the centenary of Barbara Pym’s birth was coming up in 2013. She suggested that we do something to mark the event. I was immediately on board. I love Barbara Pym, I like that she was having a nice round anniversary, and I like that there is plenty of time to get something good going.

We decided to host a Barbara Pym reading week in early June that nicely coincide with Pym’s birthday on June 2nd. So off I went to the interwebs to look up images of Pym and came across the web page for the Barbara Pym Society of North America.

Not only do they have a really fun landing page, but they have merchandise and an announcement for their annual conference in Boston in March. I’ve already become a member and hope to get to the conference. The presentations sound fascinating (e.g., The Therapeutic Value of Barbara Pym Novels) and the kick-off event on Friday night is evensong at the Church of the Advent. Right up my alley. Plus the Boston Symphony Orchestra is doing a program that weekend that I would like to hear and I have only been to Boston once and that was about ten years ago.

Amanda and I aren’t sure what the reading week will look like, but we do know it will be fabulous and appropriately Pymsian.

I think this will be especially fun because there are many Pyms I haven’t read. I have been saving them for the proverbial rainy day, but this seems like a good reason to go on a Pym binge. (Although binging of any sort doesn’t seem particularly Pym-like.)

And speaking of 2013
Once again I am looking forward to C. B. James’ TBR Double Dog Dare over at Ready When You Are, C.B. This is his annual event where those brave enough to take the dare only read books from their To Be Read (TBR) pile from January 1st through April 1st. This means that you only read whatever books are in your physical possession as of midnight on New Year’s Eve. I have enjoyed this immensely the past two years. This year I plan to combine it with my ongoing attempts to get through the A Century of Books challenge. I am determined to finish that list off and I think I am going to try and finish it by April 1. And I have tracked down all of the books on that list and have them in my library so it fits in quite nicely.

I think C. B. has made a particularly clever button for this year’s Dare.

  
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. The food is delicious, it is relatively low hassle compared to Christmas, and it falls on a Thursday, so there is always a nice long weekend to follow.

The Food
This year because of our recent travel schedule and a death in the family, our Thanksgiving is going to be pretty low key. I only made one pie this year (pumpkin) using John’s grandmother’s recipe which would make anyone love pumpkin pie. After watching the entire third season of the Great British Bake Off in the course of just a week I was also determined to make my own pie crust this year. I have made them from scratch in the past, but I always run into trouble rolling it out. This year it rolled out beautifully but I may have overworked it. We will see what it tastes like. I also decided to add a twist to my cranberry sauce this year so I used fresh ginger and clementine juice. I did a bit of sampling already and can confirm that it is delicious.

Thanksgiving is not Thanksgiving without stuffing–which I don’t actually stuff inside the bird–I keep that cavity free for aromatics and herbs.

Aromatic veggies and thyme for cooking the bird.

For the gravy

The bird and the oven
I have been fantasizing for years about my dream kitchen. With any luck it will happen in 2013 when we renovate and add onto our house. For quite some time we have been convinced that we were going to get a Wolf range. But yesterday we went to look at a house that was renovated by one of the builders we are considering for our job. In that kitchen was the most beautiful range I have ever seen. It was a Lacanche and it was gorgeous.

Not only is it pretty, but because it is rather old fashioned in its engineering as well as its look, it has far fewer mechanical bits and computers than most high end ranges. My only concern was that the oven is smaller than most American ovens. Would I be able to make my Thanksgiving bird in it? So I did some measuring this morning to see. I tend to make smallish turkeys (14 pounds) but I use a rack so I was worried I might have trouble in the Lacanche. So I did some measuring this morning.

Measuring the height of my bird (after a night of post-brining air drying in the fridge).

The Lacanche oven is only 12″ high which is about 4″ less than our current oven. But as you can see from the picture, the bird will fit with plenty room to spare. Plus, and this is the important part, we were already planning on having a separate standard sized wall oven in the new kitchen, so it doesn’t matter so much that the Lacanche has a smaller oven.

Just look at it…

Ours will be smaller than this, but it does show off how pretty it is.

This is a warming compartment. Not only can you keep things warm, but you can use for as a proving oven for things that need to rise in a  warm place. And would you look at those knobs.

This is the one we are getting, but in black. And we will get the burner configuration shown on the left.

Lucy helped me
As always, Lucy was eager to help out in the kitchen.

  
When I was in the tourist information office in Delft last week I spotted this fantastic postcard for Galerie de Kunstkop which is the studio of artist Rene Jacobs.

And doesn’t she look like she could be related to the painting in Spain that was recently “restored” by an eighty-year-old woman?

 
I have been having a great time running around the Netherlands. I am staying with friends in The Hague where there was this very cool temporary scuplture. Thank goodness the books weren’t in English and I don’t read Dutch or I would have been tempted to climb the sculpture to find something good to read.

Papier Biënnale 2012 in Rijswijk en Den Haag at  Museum Meerman

Photo credit: Alicia Martín

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Another example in some other city.

 
   

In Evelyn Waugh’s novel The Loved One, the British protagonist Dennis, a young has-been poet living in post-war Los Angeles, confides in his boss at the Happy Hunting Ground pet crematorium:

“Through no wish of my own I have become the protagonist of a Jamesian problem. Do you ever read any Henry James, Mr. Schultz?”
“You know I don’t have the time for reading.”
“You don’t have to read much of him. All his stories are about the same thing – American innocence and European experience.”

That about sums up my feeling about Henry James–at least the part about not needing to read much of him.  A few years ago I had to kind of force myself to like Portrait of a Lady, but I did end up enjoying it. I did the same with The Spoils of Poynton. I finished, but I didn’t enjoy it. Washington Square I’ve read twice and didn’t enjoy it either time. So for my A Century of Books challenge I plugged The Golden Bowl in for 1904. It is also on the ML100 list so I could kill two birds with one stone. But 200 pages in with 400 more to go I just could not have cared less about finishing. So with my new attitude about life being too short. I chucked it.

In its place, I picked up The Loved One which was hilarious. If you like Wodehouse, you will like The Loved One.

House of Stairs by William Sleator

This is the cover I remember

I also recently finished House of Stairs, William Sleator’s young adult dystopian novel from 1974. I first read this book when I was about ten years old. Parts of the book have stuck with me for the intervening thirty-some years. Unfortunately the title wasn’t one of things that stuck. Thanks to one of you who blogged about this book a year or two ago, I was reminded on the title.

Five sixteen-year-old orphans find themselves in a white horizon-less room full of nothing but stairs and landings. It is quickly apparent to an adult reader that they are being subjected to some sort of Pavlovian conditioning. Three things struck me about my second reading of this book.

1. It is still an enthralling read. Albeit a much quicker one at forty-three than it was at ten.

2. The experiment perpetuated on the orphans is almost like a foreshadowing of reality TV where the “stars” are conditioned to fight each other. The characters in the book do awful things to each other to get enough food to stay alive. The characters on Big Brother or The Real Housewives do it for fame and money.

3. There is a distinctly gay sub-storyline that doesn’t take a queer theorist to recognize. In fact, I would suggest that both Peter and Lola are gay. And, it turns out, the heroes of the book. I wonder if the subconsciously gay ten-year-old me subconsciously picked up on that thread? If so, I had no recollection of it.