Green

So, is green the color of rebirth, or just a color of joy? I’ve never quite been able to figure that out, although the greenness of new plants in springtime fills me with joy at the rebirth of the season. The smell of new ferns coming out of the dirt can be wonderful — a sort of green scent.

Since it’s also a color of Winter (evergreens, Christmas celebrations), it’s kind of hard for me to pick. I just know that I have lots of green around the house, besides potted plants: 2 purses, 1 cell phone, costume jewelry, blouses, yarn, skirts, hats. It’s one of my favorites, as well as a color that fills the environment I live in — from spring through autumn at least. So, I limited myself here to a few books, a favorite cup from Budapest, and a lovely bit of sock reinforcement yarn. I’ve done more studies of green here.

The French Revolution in Ballet

“By now, the distinction between theater and life had collapsed almost entirely and the Paris Opera became a staging ground for revolutionary festivals. These outdoor celebrations were not free-form gatherings of exuberant crowds but highly planned and rehearsed ritual reenactments of dramatic revolutionary moments set on a spectacular and grand scale with thousands of participants.” — p. 111

“Because dancers and ballet masters were so deeply involved in staging these events and because ballet had always been tied to the ceremonial life of the nation, the themes that ran through the festivals did not just fade away when the revolutionary moment passed: they took hold and changed ballet forever.” — p. 113

Excerpts from “Apollo’s Angels: A History of Ballet” by Jennifer Homans. This book is filled with fascinating stuff, including period illustrations, and info on how ballet started as the dance of French Kings. The art form travels from France to England to Italy back to the French Revolution, then on to Denmark and to Russia. I may never look at ballet the same way again, especially the introduction of the women in white. Brr.

The pitfall of asides in radio drama

Oh, car stereo, why do you hate me?

I’ve been listening to a dramatization of Shakespeare’s Cymbeline on CD in the car in an attempt to stay alert. It is already distracting to sort out which character is weeping/yelling/cajoling on the CD in which scene while I weave in and out of traffic on the highway.

the asides are impossible. Yes, they’re dramatic, but each character sounds less like he or she’s telling me secrets and more like they have split personalities that they make whisper. “Oh, fair sir, I greet thee! mutter mutter mutter mutter. I suppose the vibrations of the tires on highway pavement drown out the sound.

Gilgamesh found

It’s interesting how the Gilgamesh book unfolds and becomes more claustrophobic as you go back into past, as though you’re digging under the ruins of Ashurbanipal’s great library to find the Babylonian epic of Gilgamesh that he collected along with around 25,000 tablets of correspondence, spies notes, and literature (including poetry). One quote: “Sudden destruction is disastrous for the people who suffer it, but it can be a godsend for archaeologists: no neighborhood of ancient Rome has been preserved with the perfection of Pompeii.” p. 194, Damrosch, David. The Buried Book: The Loss and Rediscovery of the Great Epic of Gilgamesh. Holt Paperback, 2006.
I’ve now reached the chapter titled the Edge of Culture, which discusses the Epic itself, which is a fun read.

Opening a book that burrows into the past

I’ve been enjoying The Buried Book: The Loss and Rediscovery of the Great Epic of Gilgamesh. I’m eager to see how author David Damrosch will manage to take us from looking through the eyes of the Victorian explorers with their goal of assimilating knowledge for empire (or for the joy of deciphering a mystery) back to the days of Gilgamesh and then back to the near present, with the first and second Gulf Wars. It’s an interesting slice of history, served up with a good dose of perspective on Empire building.

But for now, I’m enjoying going back in time and reliving those heady days in second grade when I believed I might be able to have a job deciphering Cunieform similar to a later mad belief  in 7th grade that I might be good at organic chem someday.

Shopping for Cooks

… or people who love to bake. No, I’m not saying go out and buy yourself a chef, attractive though that may sound. But if you know someone whose hobby* is baking bread, icing cakes, or making blue ribbon chili, you might be able to find something they want and need on this list:

• Measuring cups, cookie cutters, and a cookbook for children might be a hit with the ‘tween or teen set. (The ‘tween book is a link to an article about Betty Crocker’s Cook Book for Boys and Girls, a cookbook I had as a kid.)
• If you’re on a budget, find 12 family recipes, and copy them over for a younger member of the family, or perhaps for your new son or daughter-in-law. Include nonperishable ingredients for one of the recipes. (I once received a ham strata recipe, with one of the ingredients, a canned ham, packed in a casserole dish. It was perfect on New Year’s morning.)
• Think grilling. In southern areas of the U.S. and in other areas of the world, December is the perfect time to stick things on the coals. Tools–like a new meat thermometer, specialty racks for grilling fish, new tongs and cleaning brush–might be appreciated, even if it’s months before grilling season.
• Check out other cultures for cookbooks. There are beautiful cookbooks out there for Thai, Japanese, Indian, Southwest Native American, Italian, vegetarian, and many other types of cuisines. If there’s a gap on a cookbook shelf, it might be time to spice the library up with new cultures and recipes.
• Funny (and useful) presents include measuring cups in fun colors, fanciful oven gloves, exotic tiles for hot plates, and aprons that express someone’s individuality.
• If they’re taking lessons in cake decorating, find a fancy cake pedestal and server for them to use. If they’re on a bread baking kick, specialty pans for baguettes or corn muffins might be a hit.
• If you know someone collects something like carnival glass or Royal Doulton teacups, hit the thrift stores to see if you can’t make a find.

Have fun in the cooking shops. And some advice, garnered after an unfruitful shopping expedition — if you’re running a fever and shopping at the same time, just go home. Standing in the music aisles listening to the clash of Metallica and “The Little Drummer Boy” while looking at CDs of opera was disorienting, to say the least.

If you have other ideas of things that might please the person who relaxes in the kitchen, comment away! I’m still staring blankly at store shelves, trying to suss out my next purchases.

*Note I’m saying hobby here. There are some people who bake all the time, are always in the kitchen scrubbing up, or who work in a kitchen. They might like something else that’s less like work, you know? If cooking is like ironing for some people, don’t give ‘em a reason to scowl, and select something else. But if you shop for those who are eager to learn new cooking tricks, who seem to read cookbooks like they’re novels, who confess they’ve always wanted to know how to bake bread… get thee to a store like Fantes, where I used to daydream for hours, or your local kitchen wares shop.

Two More Gifts

… and I can mail out packages.

One of the great things about my friends and family is they love books. An easy trip to a bookstore with a coffee shop attached; I get to look at some of the current books and music that are out; and the wrapping is a snap.

If you’re shopping for books, here are a few ideas (depending on the personalities of recipients, of course):

• For the kids: Bats at the Library — it’s a lovely, illustrated, imaginative book that’s a wee bit meta (see how many characters from other books you can identify in each picture). Check it out at your library, and see if it would work for a boy or girl (or grownup) you know. Another great book is Arabel’s Raven for preschoolers.
• For the preteens: Mistress Masham’s Repose. I loved this book when I was a preteen. Another book by TH White, The Goshawk, is good too.  I remember The House With a Clock in its Walls as one of the books that gave me fits when I was 11, but might be just the cup of tea of a brave preteen boy or girl. If you want adventure with fewer sleepless nights, try Aiken’s Midnight Is a Place.
• More for preteens: All of a Kind Family, by Sydney Taylor, and The Saturdays, by Elizabeth Enright. The first is about an immigrant family living on the Upper East side in NYC in 1912 (please ignore the phrase “heart-warming story”… as a kid I was fascinated about the different time period). The second is about a family of kids who pool their money each week so one person can go do something they’ve always dreamed about.
• Teens have the Twilight books, but there are also classics like Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye (yes, I cried while reading the last page in a library),  A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith (more hankies), and Gothic classics — Edgar Allan Poe’s short stories, including Fall of the House of Usher, Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre or Villette, and Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey (which is a spoof of the genre).
• Adults might appreciate books filled with: Christmas carols, recipes, diy crafts (if you know a craft they enjoy), stories about nature, or vacation ideas.

Note: when I was a student, I was able to find lots of out of print books that I knew people would like at a second-hand store. Sometimes an older book is better because it’s a collector’s item or has illustrations the recipient would remember.

Hoping your season is jolly, and you manage to survive with your spirits intact.

November Reading

1. Tuesday I plan to read then cast my ballot. Lots of things besides the Presidential elections where I live, so it’s getting confusing. If you’re reading this, get out and make your voice heard. Me, I’m going to puzzle over the voter’s guide tonight while eating some ice cream.
2. I just finished a book, called Dewey, by Vicki Myron with Brett Witter. It’s a true story about a cat, a small-town library, and the changes that can happen when there’s a small change in a public space. There were tears at the end, but this has been an amazing story of a kitten rescued from a library drop box after a cold, winter night. Definitely worth a look-through at the library. Of course, I feel a bit through the wringer, since the book covers the librarian’s life, as well as the long life of Dewey Readmore Books. The link for the Spencer Library mentions that the cat has a facebook page, which seems odd. [If you want to look at totally unrelated cats lounging in the sun, etc, check out the Pumpkin-Patch blog here.]
3. I’m on to my next book, Maxim Chattam’s The Cairo Diary. I think a blogger from Europe, perhaps DGR, mentioned it and I’m thrilled to find it in my library. It looks like a pretty dark mystery. But what can you expect from a book that has the following lines in the prologue?

“The damaged monuments were dotted among more modest tombs. They were disproportionate in size, buildings of several stories surmounted by dizzy cupolas and flanked by silent minarets; they had courtyards, fountains that had forever run dry, spacious loggias, and everywhere those darkened openings, accoladed windows or holes designed to play with the light.

All at once the sand in the streets whirled up and was borne away by the dusk wind.”

I’m looking forward to finding out how Cairo of 1928 connects with Mont-Saint-Michel in 2005. I’m hoping that the book isn’t too thriller-ish. If it is, I’ll probably close the text and move on to Agatha Christie.

“C” Is for “Cat(s)”

His Most Serene Fluffybutt enjoying the sun porch

Cat burbling: Here is Malkin, devourer of unusual things (no, seriously: brussel sprouts, rusks [Wheatena], coffee [no cream, thank you], spiders, and nylon) and killer of wasps (he bats them with his ferocious paws without being stung).

He is a night and day tripper. He has to be first, even if it’s to stop suddenly because the light on the ringing phone freaks him out… at which point I trip over him.

There are 2 other cats in the household. But Malkin is the idiot who thinks I’m the alpha cat and he can soak up some of my glory. As if.

He does have many endearing qualities. His fur is very, very soft. He spends mornings curled up on the sofa behind my head while I drink morning coffee (really, he’s jonesing to steal some). He talks. He’s smitten with the 4-year old female cat who’s new (possibly because he can steal her food). He’s possibly the most laid back and friendly to outsiders.

“C” is also for The Circle by Peter Lovesey. I did enjoy this book. Then again, I’ve been trapped in many a Writer’s Club, wishing to gnaw my leg off. This author explores what happens when a speaker at a Writer’s Circle in Chichester ends up dying in an arson fire. Not too much detail for the squeamish. I’m sure actual police officers, detectives, and coroners wouldn’t be very impressed with it, but Lovesey did a better job than some at showing the vanities, weaknesses, and general inventiveness found among a pool of writers.

The other “C” close to my mind: “Construction”. We hates it. [cue Gollum imitation]. This is not construction for my benefit, but it is 3 doors down and very audible. A small, 1-story building is being reformed into a 2-story shop with a parking lot behind it. There is a crew of about 11 men in hardhats, kicking up concrete dust, dropping things on one another, and generally yelling four letter words from 7 in the morning until around 5. There is also a neighbor right next to the construction who spends much of her time in the sun on a folding chair observing everything and adding to the four letter salute. Since I’m unlikely to have air conditioning any time soon, my windows are open and my ears are tired. ‘Nuff said.

“A” Is for “Anorak”

Yes, yes. I’ve looked at the date, and it’s getting close to August (which here in the Mid Atlantic states is a time for heat, humidity, and in my case… general crabbiness). But for anyone who attempts to write short stories or blurbs for nonfiction publishers knows — this is the time to submit stories about the end of winter.

I’m thinking about expository prose topics I could write about to match that time line, and I remembered a huge blizzard in my hometown (where I actually did use cross country skis to get over to the grocery store 9 blocks away). This memory led to today’s word: “anorak”. How many of you out there had one? (In my original hometown, a “parka” was a special kind of inlaid flooring that no one could afford. “Parkay” was a brand of oleo.)

I “Googled” the word, only to find something else other than the OED definition that I know:

“A skin or cloth hooded jacket worn by Eskimos and so by others in polar regions; a similar weatherproof garment worn elsewhere.” – The New Shorter Oxford English Dictionary, 1993. Vol 1.

I’m not sure when the Compact Oxford Dictionary added the following British slang definition:

“a socially inept person with an obsessive interest in something”

I used a search engine and I find things like the Anorak News (someone keeping tabs on the tabloids) and a Tarot illustrator asking whether or not he is really an Anorak (no, I know nothing about Tarot, beyond liking some of the art). I have no idea what in blazes an anorak has to do with being a wine connoisseur, but apparently Jamie Goode thinks it fits. Of course his discussion is very high-level when he talks about wine: “Was watering my tomatoes today, and struck by the remarkable aroma that comes from the leaves when you brush them with your hand. It made me think of the wines where ‘tomato leaf’ is used as an aroma descriptor.” (I had noticed and been repulsed by this when sampling wine, but never had the words for it. Thanks, Jamie.)

How did a humble word like anorak make its way from Greenland (where it was a coat) all the way over to the UK, where it’s apparently an obsessive (pardon me while I imagine an obsessive version of the Philly Fanatic) person who focuses on details? I’m not sure the Internet can tell me that one. Perhaps there was a British detective on the BBC who wore one?

Did any of you survive the late 70s and 80s (and the snow) in an anorak? Does anyone have any clue why this became slang in the UK? And when did the anorak cease to be just functional cold weather gear?