read read read

“I am reading a mass of things.” – Chekhov

What’s on my night stand this month: A big mouthed mason jar for drinking water. A framed print of some fellow in his “I have Russell Brand hair and his skinny velvet trousers” days. A blue silk eye mask. And these three books.

2666 – Roberto Bolano’s posthumous masterpiece.

I first started reading it in January. But since it’s really the type of novel you need to give your full attention to, and since I seem to be unable to concentrate on any one book from start to finish without picking up another few to read in tandem (and because the library keeps demanding it back before I’m through it) I’m still reading. It takes some warming up to in the beginning. Some settling down for the 1000 page haul. It’s not the sort of thing that I have trouble putting down (mainly because it’s so heavy and hurts my wrists) and at one point, notably the start of Book 2 – Amalfitano – I felt I’d hit a wall. Then I remembered that the beginning felt like a wall as well and plowed on and am glad I did. It’s really a sweet piece of literature.

Amy and Isabelle by Elizabeth Stroud.

I picked up Olive Kitteridge, also by Stroud, after hearing it had won the Pulitzer for fiction this year. It was the first thing I’d ever read by the author and I immediately fell in love with the character and her creator. I’ll save the Olive review for later. As for Amy and Isabelle, I’m only a few pages in but it promises the same joy.

The Royal Tenenbaums by Wes Anderson and Owen Wilson.

The original screenplay for the movie of the same name. I dare you to suggest a more perfectly cast film. Thanks to its brevity and brilliance I had no problem reading this one in a single setting this afternoon. And, as I told My Dearest Flynn…There may be better writing out there. But I doubt it. If you can’t handle the screenplay, then go forth now and watch the film. It’s sheer blissikins. That is all.