Bookish Things

The next book I read was Leaving Lucy Pear by Anna Solomon, which takes place in the 1920s in New England. A wealthy young girl leaves her newborn under a pear tree and an Irishwoman finds her, raising the child as her own. This book had a lot going for it, but I just couldn't love it. The writing was very good, the characters nicely developed. But oh how we inched toward the realization that Lucy Pear is Bea's daughter! I mean, INCHED. Which is frustrating when you as the reader already know, because duh. There were also some asides with b-level characters that got more attention than they deserved. I give it a 3.

The Horse and His Boy, number four in the Chronicles of Narnia, was my least favorite of the Narnia books so far--and Chris's favorite. It wasn't quite Narnian enough for me. Quests across the desert and battles aren't my thing. I wanted the wooded hills of Narnia with nymphs and centaurs, not brutal dictators and slaves and dust. But that's okay, because it's C.S. Lewis.

I've also been reading Upstream by poet Mary Oliver. It consists of a collection of essays about the natural world, the Concord set and American Transcendentalists, and--ultimately--the creation process and art. I like it fine, but I'm not IN LOVE with the book, like so many others seem to be. But it's certainly worth a read.

I'm still chipping away at American composer Philip Glass's memoir, Words Without Music. It's a long one--about 450 pages--and could've used some editing here and there, but it's overall reaaaaalllly interesting. I've learned a ton about music, and even theater, dance, and (visual) art. Also, it was kind of cool that this past weekend, the girls had their ballet show and a student did a fantastic solo to one of Glass's pieces. Having the background of Glass's bio freshly in my brain made me appreciate the dance all the more.

Finally, I've started The 5 Love Languages of Children---a parenting take on the 'ole marital standby. I'm not super impressed so far, but I'll see it through to the end. Anything that makes me a less terrible mom is probably worth reading.

Charlotte was quite the little reader at the beach, plowing through several Junie B. Jones books. Now, we all know I can't stand Junie B. Jones, so if she reads them, she has to read them to herself. She also read another Nancy Clancy chapter book. Oh, my heart.

Beach reading one of her library books during the evening.


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