On the Book Shelf

Fairy Tales -- want ‘em, need ‘em and not feeling one bit guilty for indulging in this wee shred of escapism. OK, maybe there’s half a shred of guilt but NO MORE! OK, I”m working toward that NO MORE guilt stuff. This more than latent work, work, work (hello boys, how ya doin’) ethic which permeates every aspect of my being is totally in line with how my Catholic/cafeteria Buddhist mother raised me. She had mad love for just that very first noble tenet -- All Life is Suffering. So then, all reading should be about learning, growth and god. Heaven forbid I should have fun or obtain some balm for my often weary spirit while buried in some tome!

Well, screw that with an outsized, rusty shrimp fork.

I just finishing The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern. It was a shining, magical, sad, inspirational story which transported me whole to a fantastic other world/life/time.  I hope there’s a movie and not. I’m not sure anything can live up to where her writing took me.

Before that I read The Red Garden by Alice Hoffman -- a wonderfully haunted bijou. And before that it was a collection of Charles De Lint’s ethereal stories. And John Scalzi's The Android's Dream 

"An interstellar scandal explodes when a human diplomat assassinates an alien diplomat by farting at him, albeit using a scent-emitting communicator."

How could I possibly resist!

What these authors have in common is more than just the sci fi, fantastic bend -- their writings all contain hope. It’s not all about sad, bleak horrific struggles. There’s promise, a bit of joy and a dash of enchantment mixed in with all the pain.

Just like real life.

When I was in high school I was heavy into Heinlein -- Stranger in a Strange Land, Asimov’s Foundation Trilogy and Ray Bradbury,

In college I went all mega deep, reading Alan Watts (The Wisdom of Insecurity -- read it!) and The Hobbit. OK, kinda, almost, sorta deep but not consistently.

As an angry young bee in my late 20s and 30s, The Amazing Bob™ would joke, a la Annie Hall, that all the books on our shelves with death in the title were mine. Favorites even now -- books that meant a great deal to me -- Tim O'Brien’s If I die in a Combat Zone and Going After Cacciato, Michael Herr’s Dispatches and Primo Levi’s Survival in Auschwitz

Now, at the ripe old age of 53, I want more joy, life and imagination out of the books I read -- a smackerel of wondrous, creativity cubed. With a side of escapism.

Nothinin’ wrong with that, eh?