literary consumption

I was recently admitting to a good friend that I could not keep up with her fast reading, but I am still excited and energized by the amount I'm able to sneak in at the end of the day.

Read Edward P. Jones' The Known World over the holidays. Pulitzer prize winner. Found it hard. Both because I don't like the writing style. And because of the subject matter: blacks (often former slaves) owning slaves themselves; the 'moral complexity' of the relations between masters, overseers, slaves; the overall completely and overwhelmingly distressing situations - freed men whose papers are torn apart and sold back into slavery; children slaves who die of starvation; mothers who abort in the middle of too hard a day's labor; complete lawlessness. Maybe it was the timing (holidays), but if it weren't for the occasional reminder that things would quickly change and they'd all be free and generally happier (if they had not been killed in the mean time), I would have found it hard to finish. So, good for the history, not my cup of tea for the writing, not an uplifiting read.

Quickly read Nicholas Spark's The Notebook . Sweet love story with a twist; easy read.

Finished Lucia Etxebarria's A Miracle in Balance . Greatly enjoyed it, though not at all what I expected. I expected a mother-to-daughter here's-how-i-feel-about-you-and-your-birth, and it was in fact much more a novel about the (imaginary) mother's life up to her daughter's birth - delving into family troubles and how do we live on destructive cycles we grew up with, how do we get out of those, and what is family, and how do we choose to allow ourselves to conceive, and how the birth of a child makes us grow into our responsibilities. Recommend it even if you're not a parent, and not planning on being one ever.

And... I was treated to (aka spoiled with) a stash of books for my birthday. Delight ! I'll keep you posted.

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Went to the doc yesterday. By the end of the exam, the poor guy felt sorry for my variety of ailments. And since I'd told him I'd hesitated many times before coming here, he went back to his notes and said "last time you were here, you came because you were tired" (indeed). I could see him thinking , 'wow, she must have really been exhausted to show up then - since here she almost didn't come, yet i'm sending her home with a list of prescriptions the size of a small grocery list.' I did a little happy dance in my head at noticing that, then reflected on it. The greatest sin in my family was always laziness, and that included skipping on school or work if you weren't really truly cripplingly ill. How often I've double-guessed myself only to find out I had a fever well over 40. So the little happy dance is silly. I've seen what complete disregard to my physical limitations looks like (not pretty). Instead I'll be aiming to strive for better balance between in-tune with self, and no self-pity. Mantra of the new year #3.