On the Pile
I didn’t get nearly as much reading done as I thought I would last weekend. Mostly because my parents have this really cool box with a glass front that shows colorful moving pictures when you press a button. And there was a Benson marathon on. And my father has the first season of CSI on DVD. I did almost finish a dishcloth, though.
Finished: Persepolis 2. Just as good as the first. Better in some ways because it was more emotionally honest and I could relate to so much of it. Not the drug dealing part so much. But the feeling alienated from your peers and the worrying about what your family and friends will say after you “fail” at something.
Currently Reading: Voodoo Heart. I’ve finished the first story, which is this fun, quirky, interesting story that has all these layers that are stuck in my brain. Is his girlfriend really on the blimp or is he chasing a symbol of her? Are the objects that he finds really hers or just things that remind him of her? Is it ironic that he’s trained to spot signs of potential danger but doesn’t see any signs that his girlfriend is leaving him? The more I think about the story, the more there is to think about.
Oh, and the author, Scott Snyder, has come by my site twice. Which rocks. Hey, Scott, if you're reading this---please explain!
Also have started The Hero with a Thousand Faces, which is making me feel incredibly stupid because Campbell writes in these long, convoluted sentences that take in all these references and disciplines. I have to read every passage three times and then backtrack every couple of pages.
And reading Fax From Sarajevo---yet another graphic novel about war and genocide. Now, this statement is going to get me in big trouble, but . . . Sometimes I think Americans are a bit . . . overdramatic. We’re so freaked out about terrorists. You’d think we were the first and only place to have ever suffered from a terrorist attack. But then I read about these places where people lived every day in real fear for their lives. Where hundreds of thousands of people have died. And I think, We really need to get over ourselves. We’re hiding under the bed from the boogeyman while people who have known real, immediate terror get on with their lives.
On Deck: Poor Anne and Peter. They’ve been on deck for ages. And I still really, really want to read the new Armstrong.
Added to the Pile:
What is Mine by Anne Holt
My Dirty Little Book of Stolen Time by Liz Jensen
Nuer Dilemmas: Coping with Money, War, and the State by Sharon Hutchinson
Perspectives on Africa: A Reader in Culture, History, andRepresentation ed. by Roy R. Grinker
I also got a list of books from my graduate program advisor who strongly recommends that I start reading ahead over the summer to make up for my lack of actual background in anthropology, so I’m off to the bookstore this afternoon to start looking for them. I’m allowed to buy them under my need-for-school clause because they are listed on the syllabus for her course, which I’m planning to take in the fall.
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