Showing posts with label reading lists. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reading lists. Show all posts

Friday, June 11, 2010

Beauty Bias


In this week's edition of Newsweek, columnist Dahlia Lithwick discusses the "massive social problem" of "appearance bias." Her column begins:

"If you are anything like me, you left the theater after Sex and the City 2 and thought, there ought to be a law against a looks-based culture in which the only way for 40-year-old actresses to be compensated like 40-year-old actors is to have them look and dress like the teenage daughters of 40-year-old actors. You can't even look at Sarah Jessica Parker without longing to feed her croissants."

Well, I've never longed to feed SJP anything, but I'm on board for the rest of her claim. Ageism is alive and well at the movies. When Catherine Zeta Jones plays the love interest of an almost 70-year-old Sean Connery or Maggie Gyllenhall is paired with an aging Jeff Bridges, no one blinks an eye. But switch it around to an older woman/younger man scenario, and she's disparagingly referred to as a "cougar," and the relationship becomes the stuff of comedy.

But it's not simply ageism. My dissertation dealt with beauty theory, and I find it fascinating. There's no denying that humans (all ages, both genders) are drawn to beauty. I remember watching a segment of some news show in which they'd trained two kindergarten teachers--one very pretty, one not-so-attractive--to teach the same lesson in exactly the same way. After the two teachers taught, the reporter asked the children, "Which teacher is the best teacher?" The answer? You guessed it--the pretty one won out, every time. Psychologist Nancy Etcoff argues that beauty preference is biological--we can't help it. It represents health, the survival of our species,and even the survival of our own genes.

However, feminists like Naomi Wolf argue that it's more than a natural preference for facial symmetry, the proper layout of features, good proportion, and a straight profile. She sees beauty expectations as coercive, sexist power-plays, and historian Arthur Marwick warns that any beauty theory that leaves out the power of sexual desire is incomplete.

In Lithwick's Newsweek article, she talks about a new book by Deborah Rhode, a professor of law at Stanford, called The Beauty Bias, in which she "proposes a legal regime in which discrimination on the basis of looks is as serious as discrimination based on gender or race." Very interesting. But is that even possible? I've already ordered the book, so I'll give you an update on it after it comes in and I've read it. I'm pretty sure it'll move to the top of my to-read list.

Saturday, October 31, 2009

Scary Reading

Looking for something scary to read for Halloween? Here's the Horror Writers Association's Reading List.

Best Ghost Stories of Algernon Blackwood
The Exorcist by William Peter Blatty (read this one when I was a teenager; hid it from the parents)
Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury
Lost Souls by Poppy Z. Brite
The Hungry Moon by Ramsey Campbell
The Between by Tananarive Due
Darklands by Dennis Etchison
Raven by Charles L Grant
Dead in the Water by Nancy Holder
The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson (read this in grad school; loved it; wrote a paper on it)
The Lottery and Other Stories by Shirley Jackson
Turn of the Screw by Henry James (one of my favorite ghost stories, much better than Portrait of a Lady. Sorry Portrait fans)
The Ghost Stories of M.R. James
Dr. Adder by K.W. Jeter
The Metamorphosis and Other Stories by Franz Kafka (weird but not scary)
Pet Semetary by Stephen King
The Shining by Stephen King
The Stand by Stephen King
Skin by Kathe Koja
Dark Dance by Tanith Lee
Conjure Wife by Fritz Leiber
Rosemary's Baby by Ira Levin
Songs of a Dead Dreamer by Thomas Ligotti
Lovers Living, Lovers Dead by Richard Lortz
The Dunwich Horror and Others by H.P. Lovecraft
At the Mountains of Madness by H.P. Lovecraft
The Hill of Dreams by Arthur Machen
Tales of Horror and the Supernatural by Arthur Machen
Sineater by Elizabeth Massie
I Am Legend by Richard Matheson (saw the movie; does that count?--Have read Mary Shelley's The Last Man; same premise but no vampirey beings)
Relic by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child
Frankenstein by Mary Shelley (I teach this novel in Honors Symposium)
Book of the Dead edited by John Skipp and Craig Spector
Ghoul by Michael Slade
Vampire Junction by S.P. Somtow
The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson (who hasn't read it?)
Dracula by Bram Stoker (a book I need to re-read)
Some of Your Blood by Theodore Sturgeon
Phantom by Thomas Tessier
Sacrifice by Andrew Vachss

Grab one from the list and go scare yourself! (That sounded kind of rude, didn't it?)

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Suggestions, Anyone?


This semester, I'm teaching a Critical Thinking and Speaking class for the Honors College. One of the assignments is to do a book review, and I gave the students a list of books from which they can choose. The list contains non-fiction, memoirs, novels, theological texts, philosophical texts, meditations; no limits on genre. The only criteria is that they are well-written and have caused me to think critically. I might agree with the author, and I might not. That's not the point. Expanding my mind is.

Here's the list for this semester. I have a few books on my nightstand, like Barbara Ehrenreich's Nickle and Dimed, and Stephanie Paulsell's Honoring the Body that I may choose to add after I've read them. Any suggestions for the future?


Infidel by Ayaan Hirsi Ali
Receiving the Day by Dorothy C. Bass
The Writing Life by Annie Dillard
For The Time Being by Annie Dillard
Peace Like a River by Leif Enger
Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert
She Who Is by Elizabeth Johnson
Dance of the Dissident Daughter by Sue Monk Kidd
The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver
Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott
Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott
The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis
Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
Walking on Water by Madeline L’Engle
Spiritual Direction by Henri Nouwen
Total Truth by Nancy Pearcey
Amusing Ourselves to Death by Neil Postman
Technopoly by Neil Postman*
Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke
Gilead by Marilynne Robinson
He is There and He is Not Silent by Francis Shaffer
How Should We Then Live? by Francis Schaeffer
An Altar in the World by Barbara Brown Taylor
Speaking of Faith by Krista Tippett
Night by Elie Wiesel

Monday, September 7, 2009

Booking It--Recent Big


What’s the biggest book you’ve read recently?

Every summer I try to choose at least one long book from my "Should Have Already Read" list. This past summer it was Doris Lessing's The Golden Notebook. I certainly wouldn't move it over to my list of all-time favorites, but it's an important book, and I'm glad I read it.

Much to its author's chagrin, The Golden Notebook instantly became a staple of the feminist movement when it was published in 1962. Doris Lessing's novel deconstructs the life of Anna Wulf, a sometime-Communist and a deeply leftist writer living in postwar London with her small daughter. Anna is battling writer's block, and, it often seems, the damaging chaos of life itself. The elements that made the book remarkable when it first appeared--extremely candid sexual and psychological descriptions of its characters and a fractured, postmodern structure--are no longer shocking.

Nevertheless, The Golden Notebook has retained a great deal of power, chiefly due to its often brutal honesty and the sheer variation and sweep of its prose.This largely autobiographical work comprises Anna's four notebooks: "a black notebook which is to do with Anna Wulf the writer; a red notebook concerned with politics; a yellow notebook, in which I make stories out of my experience; and a blue notebook which tries to be a diary." In a brilliant act of verisimilitude, Lessing alternates between these notebooks instead of presenting each one whole, also weaving in a novel called Free Women, which views Anna's life from the omniscient narrator's point of view. As the novel draws to a close, Anna, in the midst of a breakdown, abandons her dependence on compartmentalization and writes the single golden notebook of the title.

In tracking Anna's psychological movements--her recollections of her years in Africa, her relationship with her best friend, Molly, her travails with men, her disillusionment with the Party, the tidal pull of motherhood--Lessing pinpoints the pulse of a generation of women who were waiting to see what their postwar hopes would bring them. What arrived was unprecedented freedom, but with that freedom came unprecedented confusion. Lessing herself said in a 1994 interview: "I say fiction is better than telling the truth. Because the point about life is that it's a mess, isn't it? It hasn't got any shape except for you're born and you die."

Monday, June 8, 2009

Booking It--Sticky


“This can be a quick one. Don’t take too long to think about it. Fifteen books you’ve read that will always stick with you. First fifteen you can recall in no more than 15 minutes.”

To Kill a Mockingbird
The Poisonwood Bible
Persuasion
The Count of Monte Cristo
Lonesome Dove
Native Son
The Grapes of Wrath
A Tale of Two Cities
Lord of the Flies
Jude the Obscure
A Thousand Splendid Suns
The Handmaid's Tale
Charlotte's Web
The Dance of the Dissident Daughter
The Weight of Water

I know I'll want to change this list later, but I followed the 15 minute rule.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

My Next Read


I know it’s weird, and I know I have a huge stack of books waiting to be read, but this one’s moving to the top. Elizabeth Bennet chasing zombies? What could be more fun than that? (Except maybe a date with Mr. Darcy?)

You scoff, but this book has sold more than 120,000 copies.

You can read an interview with author Seth Grahame-Smith HERE.

Monday, January 5, 2009

Booking It--Resolutions

Any New Year’s Reading Resolutions? A certain number of books you want to read in 2009? Certain genres? Something from your TBR pile? Classics to read? Authors to try? Anything at all??




I’ve already posted about my own personal resolutions, but I just couldn’t pass up writing about book-related resolutions, could I?


My New Year’s Reading Resolutions are:

I resolve not to abandon my personal reading while writing my dissertation. Every day, in addition to whatever I read that’s dissertation-related, I want to read a little for my spirit, at least one poem, a little for recreation, and something (the newspaper, a magazine, an on-line news source) to keep me in touch with the world around me.



I know it probably won’t have a chance of happening until summer, but I resolve to read at least one book off my list of Books That I’m Embarrassed I Haven’t Read. Right now, I’m thinking the Doris Lessing one, but that could change by the time I actually get around to choosing.


After finishing my dissertation, I resolve to read one of the series of books I will mention in Tuesday's (tomorrow's) post.


How ‘bout you?

Monday, December 29, 2008

Booking It--Highlights


It’s an old question, but a good one . . . What were your favorite books this year?

List as many as you like … fiction, non-fiction, mystery, romance, science-fiction, business, travel, cookbooks … whatever the category. But, really, we’re all dying to know. What books were the highlight of your reading year in 2008?


Here are mine, in no particular order:

Khaled Hosseini’s A Thousand Splendid Suns
Barbara Kingsolver’s The Bean Trees
Nancy Pearcey’s Total Truth
Mary Ann Schaeffer and Annie Barrow’s The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society
David Wroblewski’s The Story of Edgar Sawtelle
Naomi Shihab Nye’s Fuel
Sarah Waters’ Affinity
Henry Fielding’s Tom Jones
Anne Lamott’s Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith
Ranier Maria Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet
Anita Shreve’s The Weight of Water
Charlotte Brontë’s Villette
Jane Spencer’s The Rise of the Woman Novelist from Aphra Behn to Jane Austen
Barbara Pym’s Excellent Women
Naomi Wolf’s The Beauty Myth
Ayaan Hirsi Ali’s Infidel

If you read a book this year that you’d like to recommend, please share it here. Maybe it’ll make my Highlights list in 2009.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Feel the Shame

I’m in a group of intelligent people, enjoying the conversation, the banter, the witty repartee, when suddenly it happens. Someone in the group mentions one of THOSE BOOKS. You know, one of THE ONES I SHOULD HAVE READ. I grow quiet. It takes only a few seconds to discover that EVERYONE ELSE in the group has read THIS BOOK. My chest tightens, my stomach begins to ache, I feel my face begin to flush.

I’m at work. Colleagues gather in the hall, talking, laughing. Suddenly the conversation is about one of THOSE BOOKS. I cringe inwardly.

A colleague stops by my office. We begin to chat, to talk about something a student said, a class, a current project. “You’ve read THAT BOOK, right?” I’m asked. “No,” I’m forced to admit. I feel the shame.

Now I’m not talking about the latest best seller or some obscure book that one reads because it’s in her concentration area but no one else would be expected to be familiar with. I’m not talking about eighteenth century philosophy texts or the latest book on deconstruction theory. I’m talking about one of THOSE BOOKS—a literary classic that I should have read, wished I’d read, meant to have read, don’t know why I haven’t read, am embarrassed I haven’t read, even though I’ve been reading all my life.

I have no idea how these particular novels have slipped through the cracks. For really long ones, I think it’s because it’s hard to find a big enough chunk of time to devote exclusively to it. But whatever the reason, I’ve been whittling away slowly on my list. Last summer, I read Les Miserables (yes, the unabridged version). The summer before, I read Nobokov’s Lolita. This summer, I read Tom Jones and Tristram Shandy. Surely they count, even if they were on my comps list.

Here’s a list of some of the books I feel I should have read but haven’t yet:

1. Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina
2. George Eliot’s Middlemarch
3. William Faulkner’s Sound and the Fury and As I Lay Dying
4. Anthony Burgess’s A Clockwork Orange
5. Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged
6. James Joyce’s Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
7. Salman Rushdie’s Satanic Verses
8. Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment and The Brothers Karamazov
9. Theodore Dreiser’s Sister Carrie
10. Umberto Eco’s Foucault’s Pendulum
11. Boris Pasternak’s Doctor Zhivago
12. Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart
13. Doris Lessing’s The Golden Notebook
14. Willa Cather’s My Antonia
15. Joseph Heller’s Catch 22

Prior to this, my list has existed pretty much only in my head, so I’m sure that after pushing that magical “Post” button I’ll think of some I wish I’d included.

Okay. Time to ‘fess up. What are you embarrassed that you haven’t read?

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

McCarthy-ism

I read. A lot. Reading is my job; it’s my homework; and it’s my hobby. And I read widely—fiction and nonfiction, classic literature and best sellers, crime fiction and books of poetry, memoirs and essay collections. That much reading translates into a pretty long list of books read. So how can this happen?

Every year Kane Webb, a columnist for the Arkansas Democrat Gazette, writes an article I eagerly anticipate—a “Best Books of 20??” column. He chooses people he knows who are “reading addicts with interesting taste” and asks them this question:


“What was the best book you read [this year]? And why? It doesn’t have to be new, just new to you. Re-readings don’t count—unless you can make a great case.”

The column was long. It took up good-sized chunks of two pages and the whole back page of the Perspective section. And you know how many of the selected books I’d read? Two. Only two.

That’s depressing.

Of course, the brighter side is that I now have several books to add to my “must read” list. And one of those in Cormac McCarthy’s The Road. Two people selected it as their Best Novel and it popped up on quite a few of the “Also Recommended” lists. One reader, who’s also an English Professor, declared that this “relentless” novel caused him to “have to re-write his lectures on plot structure,” and the other said that, as soon as he finished the novel, he wanted to reread it. In fact, he says he often picks the book up just to reread the first sentence. That sounds like a book worth reading to me.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Couples and Pairs

While I was racking my brain to come up with literary couples for yesterday’s post, a few twosomes came to mind that just don’t fit in a “literary couples” category. They’re more like “literary pairs.” And you know me, ever loathe to leave out deserving characters, I decided to follow up with some of my most memorable literary pairs. Feel free to add to the list.

Gus and Call from Larry McMurtry's Lonesome Dove
Charlotte and Wilbur from E. B. White's Charlotte’s Web
Marian Halcombe and Walter Hartright from Wilkie Collins' The Woman in White
Frank and Joe Hardy--come on, surely you know this one!?!


Oh, and if you haven't already done so, don't forget to vote!

Monday, November 3, 2008

Booking It--Coupling

Here’s the next question from Booking through Thursday:


“Name a favorite literary couple and tell me why they are a favorite. If you cannot choose just one, that is okay too. Name as many as you like–sometimes narrowing down a list can be extremely difficult and painful. Or maybe that’s just me.”

I’m going to answer, but before I do, I’d like to talk about the question—No, I’d like to celebrate it. Remember my post the other day (10/24/08) when I said that one of the reasons I read is because of the sense of recognition, when I come across a passage and say, “Yes. That’s it exactly!” Well, I had that feeling when I read this question.

You mean someone else finds it painful to have to make a literary choice? Someone else is agonized when having to rank books, or choose the one book that changed her life, or name her favorite character of all time? I find this discovery validating.

Every time I read articles like “So & So’s Top Ten Books that Shaped His Life,” I’d feel like I should make my own list. I’d get paper and pencil, try to think, and then literally freeze, unable to write down a single thing. I couldn’t understand it—I mean, I’ve read literally thousands of books in my life. I’ve re-read them, thought about them, discussed them, and written about them. Why couldn’t I make a simple list? Why couldn’t I commit? Was I not a good reader? Not intelligent enough? Unable to process and rank data? What was wrong with me?

Now I know the answer: I’m simply avoiding pain.

And, really, literature is not something you can rank like ball teams or Olympic athletes. We don’t have measuring instruments like score boards or stop watches. Different books and different characters touch our hearts or shape our thinking in different ways at different times. How we respond to a particular book (or poem) may have something to do with how old we are or whether or not we’ve had certain life experiences yet. A particular book may strike a chord because of our gender or race or religion or because of who our best friend is. It may answer a question we’ve been pondering or validate an experience we thought made us somehow less than other human beings. Books do so much for us. How can you choose only one? Or several to put into brackets, giving one top seed?

Jerome McGann, in his work The Poetics of Sensibility, scoffs at our tendency to rank works of literature: “‘The most celebrated poem by a women of the period,’ the title promises. . . . Do we rank the passion of Anne Elliot and Catherine Earnshaw?”

Well, I certainly don’t. Here’s my list of literary couples, in no particular order—memorable for various reasons and from different times in my life. And even as I post this list, I’m feeling the pain. I just know that I’ll read your lists and my stomach will clench when I realize that I’ve slighted a couple I should have honored. You readers will know what I mean. :-)

--Anne Elliott and Frederick Wentworth from Jane Austen’s Persuasion
--Trixie Belden and Jim Frane from the Trixie Belden Mysteries series
--Scarlett O’Hara and Rhett Butler from Margaret Mitchell’s Gone With the Wind
--Kay Scarpetta and Benton Wesley from Patricia Cornwell’s Scarpetta series
--Almanzo and Laura Ingalls Wilder from the Little House series
--Kit Tyler and Nat Eaton from Elizabeth George Speare’s Witch of Blackbird Pond
--Lucy Snowe and Paul Emanuel from Charlotte Brontë’s Villette




Again, feel free to answer the question in the comments section. If you answer on your blog, post me a link. Anybody got any Tylenol?

Thursday, October 9, 2008

In My Dreams

On Tuesday, October 7, 2008, at about 3:23 in the afternoon, I finished the last page of the last book on my Oral Comps reading list. For this part of the Candidacy Examination, Ole Miss requires students to choose a discrete period of literary history, and then to read the fiction, non-fiction, drama, poetry, and attendant criticism pertaining to it. In my case, it was an era in British Literature often called “The Long Eighteenth Century,” a literary period bracketed by two historical events—the restoration of Charles II to the throne in 1660 and the death of Jane Austen in 1817. My list took me four months of steady reading to cover. Reading was my job, my hobby, my life. It took total precedence over everything else. (If you don’t believe me, come write your name in the dust on my furniture or check out the empty pantry.)

When I turned that last page, I felt relief and a great sense of accomplishment—for all of about one minute. Very quickly, the realization that I had only two weeks to review and study for the two-hour oral exam and the fact that my “study sheet” had grown to 129 pages dampened all feelings of elation.

It’s been an arduous but interesting process. Never before have I spent so long a time so intensely involved in the study of one particular area. Obviously, the literature generated over more than a hundred years is extensive, in both breadth and depth, and widely varying in style, intent, and content, but in plugging away through the material day after day, I began to see patterns emerge, themes appear and develop; I could discern an overarching historical movement and trace connections between authors. I don’t kid myself that I’ll be able to remember everything I’ve read, but I’m amazed at what I’ve learned, and when I found myself lecturing about 18th century literature in my dreams, I thought something must be going right.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Things I Wish I'd Done #1

I wish that I had kept a list of all the books I've read--from the very beginning. Actually, I wish my parents had started it for me. They could have listed all the books they read to me, before I even learned how to read, including all the Little Golden Books (especially the one about George the pig who ate so many doughnuts that he blew up). I remember that Mom read me Lois Lensky's Strawberry Girl, probably more than once. I think it was a favorite of hers. There were many more, I know, selected from the cool interior of the county's traveling Bookmobile, a pleasant place to linger on a hot summer day, but the titles escape me now.

If I'd kept such a list, I would have put check marks by the books I read more than once--one check for each reading. Maybe even with dates. What a life journal that would be! I could trace myself from childhood (Dr. Seuss, Beverly Cleary) to preteen (Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden mysteries, Hardy Boys, too, alongside the Junior Biographies of Great Americans series). I'd even be brave enough to list the books my teenage self was afraid for my parents to know I was reading, like Go Ask Alice or Judy Blume's Forever.

I'd list everything I read in school, the books recommended by friends, the ones my aunt Peggy shared with me, the great books that changed me forever, and even ones that I didn't like but made myself finish anyway.

I'd list my Now That You're Pregnant book and the ever-popular Baby Names A-Z. I wouldn't omit the romance novels I've read, or the Self-Help books, or the true crime dramas. I'd list Shakespeare and Dickens and the Bronte sisters right in the middle of books about dinosaurs that I read to my little boys, the Chronicles of Narnia and Gary Paulsen's Hatchet, and 1000 Dresses, especially for my daughter.

I'd list Mere Christianity and The DaVinci Code, Two from Galilee and The Handmaid's Tale. All Jane Austen would be there, some Thomas Hardy, some Virginia Woolf. Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Love, Pray and Richard Wright's Native Son. I'd list Gone with the Wind and The Bluest Eye, Nabakov's Lolita, Dracula, and Charlotte's Web.

There's no possible way I could reconstruct the list now, although I really wish I could. I guess I'll have to be satisfied with the only existing history of the books I've read--the person I've become.