Author's Note: I have been sitting on this review for like, 2 months. No joke. Time to brush off the dust.
Over Memorial Day weekend, SmartBitch Sarah was talking of little else than Courtney Milan’s self-published e-novella, Unlocked. There are all kinds of political and logistical reasons this novella is self-published (and only in e-format), and while they are very, very interesting, they really mean nothing to me at this stage.
What meant something to me was the fact that it was supposed to be (and is!) a damn fine book. Er, novella.
We all know how I feel about digital reading (Brief recap for the non-initiated: I like to collect the books. Actual books, not digital files. That is all.), so I bought the e-book and sat on it until one day I was at Scout Camp, had finished the one book I had brought with me, and needed to kill some time.
And oh, what a way to kill some time.
Lady Elaine Warren has been the laughingstock of the ton for about ten years. This is mainly because Evan Carlton, Lord Westfeld, made her the laughingstock, mocking her mercilessly during her first season and encouraging others to do the same. Her obnoxious laugh was the main source of amusement, but also subject to ridicule was/is her mother, a highly intelligent but highly scatterbrained, terribly naive woman.
The story takes place in the “ten years later” part, with Evan returning from a really long sojourn mountain climbing in Chamonix. The reason he left? Well... he was in love with Elaine. Madly, wildly, passionately in love with her. But he was 19. And a bit of a douchebag. And he started making fun of her to a) get her attention and b) put people off of the fact that he wanted her so desperately. The moment he realized that he had gotten her attention in all of the wrongest of ways, he fled.
After meeting up at a house party, Evan immediately starts to make amends. He apologizes to Elaine. He publicly shows the utmost respect to her mother. And then he publicly declares his love for Elaine in front of all of her worst tormentors.
Miraculously, as the reader, you like and believe Evan. It’s not like he comes back and then is confronted with everything he’s done that makes him realize he’s an asshole, he already knows. When he walks in to the ballroom for the first time and sees Elaine, his first thought is only to try to make amends and come to terms with the consequences of his actions.
For her part, Elaine doesn’t trust him (uh... duh), but agrees to a friendship that blossoms in to something more (uh... duh).
This is a quick read, but I would in no way classify it as light or insubstantial. This is a full-fledged romance in novella form, one of the only ones I have ever read that didn’t leave me feeling cheated or yearning for more. The length of this story is exactly right. We get everything we need from the evolution of the relationship (including hot sex) without feeling rushed. There is a sense of history established between Evan and Elaine that you believe from the first minute. And nothing about Elaine’s (SPOILER? No. I mean, honestly...) eventual capitulation feels forced.
I loved this story. So get over your e-book prejudices and go buy it, mmmk?
Showing posts with label Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday. Show all posts
15 September 2011
14 July 2011
In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday is a Harry Potter Geek Once and Always.
This week I am obsessed with the trailer for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2:
I don't want to be. I am generally scornful of the Potter films for the simple reason that they always fail to live up to my expectations. No, I am not one of those people who thinks that every detail needs to be translated perfectly from page to screen (OK, maybe I am). But generally I find that it's the big details they get wrong that annoy me.
For example, even in the above badass trailer, the number of conversations that He Who Must Not Be Named and Harry have, and the number of locations they have them in, is just strikingly wrong to me.
That said, I am a total sucker for the "It All Ends" tagline they've had running around for months. And I can't get rid of these pesky goosebumps the trailer gives me, no matter how many times I have to roll my eyes at the inaccuracies.
There's also this piece of awesomeness from Damon Lindelof (that's Mr. Lost to you) about why Voldemort (There! I said it!!!) is The Baddest Villain of Them All.
So maybe I'll just have to get my head out of my ass and go.
I don't want to be. I am generally scornful of the Potter films for the simple reason that they always fail to live up to my expectations. No, I am not one of those people who thinks that every detail needs to be translated perfectly from page to screen (OK, maybe I am). But generally I find that it's the big details they get wrong that annoy me.
For example, even in the above badass trailer, the number of conversations that He Who Must Not Be Named and Harry have, and the number of locations they have them in, is just strikingly wrong to me.
That said, I am a total sucker for the "It All Ends" tagline they've had running around for months. And I can't get rid of these pesky goosebumps the trailer gives me, no matter how many times I have to roll my eyes at the inaccuracies.
There's also this piece of awesomeness from Damon Lindelof (that's Mr. Lost to you) about why Voldemort (There! I said it!!!) is The Baddest Villain of Them All.
So maybe I'll just have to get my head out of my ass and go.
8 July 2011
In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday...
OK. This is what we're going to do.
For the rest of the summer, I am going to post as much as I can, and if (read: when) I am late, I'm not going to apologize. It's going to keep happening, and the constant contrition is going to get old for all of us. So let's just go with it.
And now, obsessive links!
From the *HeadDesk* department of WTF-ery, comes SB Sarah's remarkable response to a remarkably horrific article about the effect of romance articles on female perceptions and sexuality. Let's just say that you learn research techniques in middle school that are better than those used to write this annoying piece of drivel (To clarify: the article is drivel. SB Sarah's response is badass).
From the *This Might Have to Be My New Cult Favorite* department of Awesomesauce comes this critique and clip of the upcoming show Once Upon a Time. Does the premise sound awkward and ill-thought-out? Perhaps. But then there's the fact that it comes from the writers of Lost. There's also the fact that the clip is... awesome. Go to there.
Also, those just catching up to the UK phone hacking scandal should check out this article from the June issue of Vanity Fair. We could be witnessing their Watergate.
And finally, from the *Start Lining Up Already* department of GAH! comes the news that the Arrested Development feature film is alive and well. And anything George Bluth says must be... exaggerated for the manipulation of his stockholders. Nonetheless. This time next year, people!!
Have a lovely weekend.
For the rest of the summer, I am going to post as much as I can, and if (read: when) I am late, I'm not going to apologize. It's going to keep happening, and the constant contrition is going to get old for all of us. So let's just go with it.
And now, obsessive links!
From the *HeadDesk* department of WTF-ery, comes SB Sarah's remarkable response to a remarkably horrific article about the effect of romance articles on female perceptions and sexuality. Let's just say that you learn research techniques in middle school that are better than those used to write this annoying piece of drivel (To clarify: the article is drivel. SB Sarah's response is badass).
From the *This Might Have to Be My New Cult Favorite* department of Awesomesauce comes this critique and clip of the upcoming show Once Upon a Time. Does the premise sound awkward and ill-thought-out? Perhaps. But then there's the fact that it comes from the writers of Lost. There's also the fact that the clip is... awesome. Go to there.
Also, those just catching up to the UK phone hacking scandal should check out this article from the June issue of Vanity Fair. We could be witnessing their Watergate.
And finally, from the *Start Lining Up Already* department of GAH! comes the news that the Arrested Development feature film is alive and well. And anything George Bluth says must be... exaggerated for the manipulation of his stockholders. Nonetheless. This time next year, people!!
Have a lovely weekend.
30 June 2011
In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday is Inspired.
This is a couple of weeks old, but the sentiments and the general inspirationality of it all are still resonating with me. Team CoCo fo' sho'.
16 June 2011
In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday Revisits Some Old Promises
Remember a long-ass time ago when I told you I would come back to the "other things" I liked about Elizabeth Hoyt's Legend of the Four Soldiers Series?
Well, gather 'round, children. It's time.
The first book in the Four Soldiers series begins with a prologue that, well... begins the story of the Four Soldiers. You with me? Emeline, the heroine of To Taste Temptation, was read The Legend of the Four Soldiers by her nanny when she was younger. The nanny was Prussian and the book that she read from was in Prussian (?), and Emeline wants the book translated. Melisande, the heroine of the To Seduce a Sinner, can translate the thing. Helen of To Beguile a Beast has lovely penmanship and transcribes the thing. Oh, and it just so happens that Beatrice of To Desire a Devil knows how to bind books. Just sayin'.
So each of our Four Soldiers' tales is accompanied by a "fictional" Four Soldiers tale. Before each chapter is a little piece of the fairy-tale story, and each epilogue wraps everything together, finishing the sub-story and illuminating the grander theme within our novel.
Iron Heart, Laughing Jack, Truth Teller, and Longsword each fight their own mythic battles for the princesses they love (Solace, Surcrease, Sympathy, and Serenity, respectively). Obviously the tales feature parallel obstacles to those faced by our Soldiers, and the princesses represent what our heroines give them.
While the whole "each heroine has a part to play" thing is a little much, I do like this common thread for the women throughout all of the stories. The men have their war, and the women have these tales, and to be honest, they don't really have much interaction with one another from one book to the next. It is their only real connection. At the end of To Desire a Devil, the unveiling of the books that Beatrice has bound is quite interesting, because it really gives the reader a sense of how much these women have bonded, if unknowingly.
The other thing I want to mention is the time period in which these books take place. In my mind (and quite generally speaking) there are three time periods of historical romance novels- Medieval, Regency and Victorian/American West. The Legend of the Four Soldiers takes place about six years after the end of the French and Indian War, which places it squarely in the Colonial period. I had to keep reminding myself to picture corsets and powdered wigs rather than empire waists and Hessian boots. Very strange. But very cool. It was refreshing to read something different. And for that reason alone this is a series worth checking out.
Well, gather 'round, children. It's time.
The first book in the Four Soldiers series begins with a prologue that, well... begins the story of the Four Soldiers. You with me? Emeline, the heroine of To Taste Temptation, was read The Legend of the Four Soldiers by her nanny when she was younger. The nanny was Prussian and the book that she read from was in Prussian (?), and Emeline wants the book translated. Melisande, the heroine of the To Seduce a Sinner, can translate the thing. Helen of To Beguile a Beast has lovely penmanship and transcribes the thing. Oh, and it just so happens that Beatrice of To Desire a Devil knows how to bind books. Just sayin'.
So each of our Four Soldiers' tales is accompanied by a "fictional" Four Soldiers tale. Before each chapter is a little piece of the fairy-tale story, and each epilogue wraps everything together, finishing the sub-story and illuminating the grander theme within our novel.
Iron Heart, Laughing Jack, Truth Teller, and Longsword each fight their own mythic battles for the princesses they love (Solace, Surcrease, Sympathy, and Serenity, respectively). Obviously the tales feature parallel obstacles to those faced by our Soldiers, and the princesses represent what our heroines give them.
While the whole "each heroine has a part to play" thing is a little much, I do like this common thread for the women throughout all of the stories. The men have their war, and the women have these tales, and to be honest, they don't really have much interaction with one another from one book to the next. It is their only real connection. At the end of To Desire a Devil, the unveiling of the books that Beatrice has bound is quite interesting, because it really gives the reader a sense of how much these women have bonded, if unknowingly.
The other thing I want to mention is the time period in which these books take place. In my mind (and quite generally speaking) there are three time periods of historical romance novels- Medieval, Regency and Victorian/American West. The Legend of the Four Soldiers takes place about six years after the end of the French and Indian War, which places it squarely in the Colonial period. I had to keep reminding myself to picture corsets and powdered wigs rather than empire waists and Hessian boots. Very strange. But very cool. It was refreshing to read something different. And for that reason alone this is a series worth checking out.
23 May 2011
In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday Finally Talks About Parks and Recreation
NOTE: This post was originally published the day Blogger went to hell in a handbasket. I fixed something on it tonight, and now it's considered a new post. Not sure why, and I'm really annoyed that I can't fix it. You've already read it, probably. I'm still on hiatus, dammit. Nothin' to see here. (Unless there is?)
I have been obsessed with Parks and Recreation for weeks now, but other obsessions have taken precedence. Not so, this week.
The fact that this show was created by those who bring us The Office did not persuade me to try it right away. I don't know why, except that it was probably a timing thing, and we all know that I like to let shows gestate before I commit myself. This spring Parks has been garnering a metric ton of buzz, including an Entertainment Weekly cover, and I finally decided it was time.
Parks and Recreation follows Leslie Knope, an extremely enthusiastic and civic-minded Deputy-Head of the Pawnee, Indiana Parks and Recreation Department. Leslie, played with perfect naive/innocent pitch my Amy Poehler, has high aspirations for her life. Only in her mid-thirties, she wants to be the Head of the Parks Department and then climb the political ladder to eventually become President of the United States. This is how we know for sure that Parks and Rec is from the twisted minds if The Office... The only other character on television that optimistically delusional is/was the beloved Michael Scott.
Leslie is surrounded by a motley crew of small town characters, ranging from her uber-capitalist boss, Ron Swanson (the priceless Nick Offerman) to his moody, mono-syllabic assistant, April (Aubrey Plaza). Rounding out the cast is the creepy/awesome Tom (Aziz Ansari), Leslie's best friend Ann (Rashida Jones) and Ann's doofy ex-boyfriend Andy (Chris Pratt).
The rise of Parks oddly mirrors that of The Offce; the first season is mostly eh with flashes of the brilliance that emerges fully from minute one of season two.
Ah yes, the brilliance. The brilliance lies in the total believability of the characters, of the plot, of the setting. As a girl who grew up in (and still occasionally resides in) a small town, I defy anyone from similar circumstances to find non-realism in this show. Is it sometimes absurd? Sure. But so is life in a small town. So are small town politics. In fact, as a note to Parks writers, I submit this latest local headline as a potential future plot point: White Powder Scare at Clinton School. Make sure and read the final outcome.
And tell me there's not a half hour sitcom episode in that.
I have been obsessed with Parks and Recreation for weeks now, but other obsessions have taken precedence. Not so, this week.
The fact that this show was created by those who bring us The Office did not persuade me to try it right away. I don't know why, except that it was probably a timing thing, and we all know that I like to let shows gestate before I commit myself. This spring Parks has been garnering a metric ton of buzz, including an Entertainment Weekly cover, and I finally decided it was time.
Parks and Recreation follows Leslie Knope, an extremely enthusiastic and civic-minded Deputy-Head of the Pawnee, Indiana Parks and Recreation Department. Leslie, played with perfect naive/innocent pitch my Amy Poehler, has high aspirations for her life. Only in her mid-thirties, she wants to be the Head of the Parks Department and then climb the political ladder to eventually become President of the United States. This is how we know for sure that Parks and Rec is from the twisted minds if The Office... The only other character on television that optimistically delusional is/was the beloved Michael Scott.
Leslie is surrounded by a motley crew of small town characters, ranging from her uber-capitalist boss, Ron Swanson (the priceless Nick Offerman) to his moody, mono-syllabic assistant, April (Aubrey Plaza). Rounding out the cast is the creepy/awesome Tom (Aziz Ansari), Leslie's best friend Ann (Rashida Jones) and Ann's doofy ex-boyfriend Andy (Chris Pratt).
The rise of Parks oddly mirrors that of The Offce; the first season is mostly eh with flashes of the brilliance that emerges fully from minute one of season two.
Ah yes, the brilliance. The brilliance lies in the total believability of the characters, of the plot, of the setting. As a girl who grew up in (and still occasionally resides in) a small town, I defy anyone from similar circumstances to find non-realism in this show. Is it sometimes absurd? Sure. But so is life in a small town. So are small town politics. In fact, as a note to Parks writers, I submit this latest local headline as a potential future plot point: White Powder Scare at Clinton School. Make sure and read the final outcome.
And tell me there's not a half hour sitcom episode in that.
5 May 2011
In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday Squees.
Do you know what a "squee" is?
No?
In reality it's probably close to what you're imagining. It's something like jumping up and down while making a noise akin to an "Eeeeee" and a squeal. Yes, it's obnoxious. But it's so full of enthusiasm that you can't help but find it infectious.
I have squeed quite a lot in the past twenty-four hours. You all know my favorite site, right? The SmartBitches site was an extremely powerful find for me in the winter of 2008/2009. I was contemplating my MLS (Still am! It's just far away!), and I was falling back in love with romance novels after a long and uncertain hiatus (Hello, nasty breakup. Thanks for momentarily ruining my thoughts on romance novels). SB (SmartBitch) Candy and SB Sarah were like a breath of fresh air. They wrote like I think. They were smart. They loved romance novels. And they were in no way ashamed of their love of a long-derided genre.
This week, SB Sarah was scheduled to speak at the Connecticut Library Association Conference, and I was scheduled to be there, except that the universe likes to laugh at me from time to time. OK. The universe likes to laugh at me a lot.
I woke up on Monday morning and read this article on Smart Bitches, and no joke, I nearly wept at my desk at work. WHY WAS I NOT THERE MEETING AND FANGIRL-ING AT SMART BITCH SARAH??? I went home and did not drink heavily (Because I'm trying not to do that during the week... much), but I seriously thought about it.
Cut to: last night. I'm visiting Granny and Granddad Jones for our (mostly) monthly get-together, and Granny starts talking to me about one of our mutual acquaintances (Relevant background: Granny and I worked at the same library for 10 years. She still works there. And so does this mutual friend), and how he left something for me. Something AWESOME. Like a copy of the Official SmartBitches Handbook, Beyond Heaving Bosoms: A Smart Bitches' Guide to Romance Novels.
And inside was THIS:
In case you're wondering, that says:
"To Elizabeth [no, my real name is not Kate]- Happy reading- may we all live happily ever after with the heaving bosoms of good reading. SB Sarah PS- where were you?! :)"
So yeah. My obsession this week is all things SB Sarah and SmartBitches. Because honestly, there's nothing quite like a badass woman's kind and encouraging words to help you move forward in your quest to be a badass woman.
I sent a thank you email to Sarah (who I have emailed a couple of times regarding various issues/fun things re: the Bitchery), and she could not have been more gracious and kind. Are we paying close attention to her next local appearance so we can squee in person? Yes, yes we are.
No?
In reality it's probably close to what you're imagining. It's something like jumping up and down while making a noise akin to an "Eeeeee" and a squeal. Yes, it's obnoxious. But it's so full of enthusiasm that you can't help but find it infectious.
I have squeed quite a lot in the past twenty-four hours. You all know my favorite site, right? The SmartBitches site was an extremely powerful find for me in the winter of 2008/2009. I was contemplating my MLS (Still am! It's just far away!), and I was falling back in love with romance novels after a long and uncertain hiatus (Hello, nasty breakup. Thanks for momentarily ruining my thoughts on romance novels). SB (SmartBitch) Candy and SB Sarah were like a breath of fresh air. They wrote like I think. They were smart. They loved romance novels. And they were in no way ashamed of their love of a long-derided genre.
This week, SB Sarah was scheduled to speak at the Connecticut Library Association Conference, and I was scheduled to be there, except that the universe likes to laugh at me from time to time. OK. The universe likes to laugh at me a lot.
I woke up on Monday morning and read this article on Smart Bitches, and no joke, I nearly wept at my desk at work. WHY WAS I NOT THERE MEETING AND FANGIRL-ING AT SMART BITCH SARAH??? I went home and did not drink heavily (Because I'm trying not to do that during the week... much), but I seriously thought about it.
Cut to: last night. I'm visiting Granny and Granddad Jones for our (mostly) monthly get-together, and Granny starts talking to me about one of our mutual acquaintances (Relevant background: Granny and I worked at the same library for 10 years. She still works there. And so does this mutual friend), and how he left something for me. Something AWESOME. Like a copy of the Official SmartBitches Handbook, Beyond Heaving Bosoms: A Smart Bitches' Guide to Romance Novels.
And inside was THIS:
In case you're wondering, that says:
"To Elizabeth [no, my real name is not Kate]- Happy reading- may we all live happily ever after with the heaving bosoms of good reading. SB Sarah PS- where were you?! :)"
So yeah. My obsession this week is all things SB Sarah and SmartBitches. Because honestly, there's nothing quite like a badass woman's kind and encouraging words to help you move forward in your quest to be a badass woman.
I sent a thank you email to Sarah (who I have emailed a couple of times regarding various issues/fun things re: the Bitchery), and she could not have been more gracious and kind. Are we paying close attention to her next local appearance so we can squee in person? Yes, yes we are.
28 April 2011
In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday Has a Lot of Diffent Things to Talk About
I'm writing from my new iPad 2.
And oh man, it's awesome.
OK, full disclosure, it's an iPad that belongs to the day job that I have to have (a girl's got to eat, and blogging for the masses doesn't pay in anything but a healthy sense of self-righteousness), but somehow I don't think anyone will mind if I reappropriate this lovely piece of machinery for a few minutes.
Oh yes. This lovely piece of machinery is most definitely my obsession de la semaine.
It's thin. It's white. And it has a badass pink cover. Part of this color combination is because I accessorize only in pink. And part of it is so that my male colleagues don't steal her. Yes, it's a "her," and she needs a name. Suggestions welcome in the comments.
The problem is, though, that I got the wifi only version (like you do... AT&T has enough of my soul, thank you very much) and then I went away on a business trip (hello from sunny and hot as hell Florida!). I have no idea how to judge this next part-- I can't decide if my outrage is justified. You'll let me know, right? Here goes...
The hotel does not have wireless available in the rooms. There's an Ethernet chord, or you can purchase internet through the television. All other Internet transactions must be carried out on the questionable wireless network in the lobby. (Why yes, I did pay $25 for 2 days' worth of access, and no, I still couldn't connect. Awesome.)
Let's ignore the fact that this hotel is currently hosting three business conventions.
And let's ignore the fact that when you (read: your company) are paying $150 a night for a hotel, you shouldn't have to kick in another $12 per day to connect to the Internet in general.
HOW DO THEY NOT HAVE WIRELESS INTERNET THROUGHOUT THE BUILDING?
Sure, iPads are new, and laptops can all be plugged in. But half of the point of a laptop is that it's portable. And for business purposes in this setting, how can you possibly be expected to go back to your room to check your email, or to look something up for a potential client?
Maybe it's a Gen Y thing. Maybe it's an overly techie thing. But I would seriously think twice before checking in to this hotel for business again-- a hotel, I might add, that is otherwise very lovely and has nothing particularly "wrong" with it.
But it's the year 2011. Connection is everything. And they have failed.
(For the record, the wireless connection I am using right now was brought in by the convention I'm attending... The hotel does not even provide wireless in its own convention halls)
And oh man, it's awesome.
OK, full disclosure, it's an iPad that belongs to the day job that I have to have (a girl's got to eat, and blogging for the masses doesn't pay in anything but a healthy sense of self-righteousness), but somehow I don't think anyone will mind if I reappropriate this lovely piece of machinery for a few minutes.
Oh yes. This lovely piece of machinery is most definitely my obsession de la semaine.
It's thin. It's white. And it has a badass pink cover. Part of this color combination is because I accessorize only in pink. And part of it is so that my male colleagues don't steal her. Yes, it's a "her," and she needs a name. Suggestions welcome in the comments.
The problem is, though, that I got the wifi only version (like you do... AT&T has enough of my soul, thank you very much) and then I went away on a business trip (hello from sunny and hot as hell Florida!). I have no idea how to judge this next part-- I can't decide if my outrage is justified. You'll let me know, right? Here goes...
The hotel does not have wireless available in the rooms. There's an Ethernet chord, or you can purchase internet through the television. All other Internet transactions must be carried out on the questionable wireless network in the lobby. (Why yes, I did pay $25 for 2 days' worth of access, and no, I still couldn't connect. Awesome.)
Let's ignore the fact that this hotel is currently hosting three business conventions.
And let's ignore the fact that when you (read: your company) are paying $150 a night for a hotel, you shouldn't have to kick in another $12 per day to connect to the Internet in general.
HOW DO THEY NOT HAVE WIRELESS INTERNET THROUGHOUT THE BUILDING?
Sure, iPads are new, and laptops can all be plugged in. But half of the point of a laptop is that it's portable. And for business purposes in this setting, how can you possibly be expected to go back to your room to check your email, or to look something up for a potential client?
Maybe it's a Gen Y thing. Maybe it's an overly techie thing. But I would seriously think twice before checking in to this hotel for business again-- a hotel, I might add, that is otherwise very lovely and has nothing particularly "wrong" with it.
But it's the year 2011. Connection is everything. And they have failed.
(For the record, the wireless connection I am using right now was brought in by the convention I'm attending... The hotel does not even provide wireless in its own convention halls)
21 April 2011
In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday Continues to be Too Distracted to Think Properly.
Yep. I know it's getting old. But next week I'll feel more comfortable (maybe?) and I'll be able to talk about the book I'm reading now (maybe?) and how much I'm in love with Parks and Recreation (I really should finish the second season before I make any grand pronouncements).
In the meantime, just in case you thought I forgot all about Cougar Town (well, I haven't talked about it in like, a day), I give you another Lady Liberty YouTube find, this one illuminating Laurie's coffee buying habits. Damn, Busy Phillips is a rock star at memorization.
Have a lovely holiday (if you're celebrating), and a lovely long weekend (if you're celebrating or not). Scout Camp is changing locations this weekend, so Monday Menu Mayhem will probably involve locating pots and pans. Stay tuned for the excitement.
In the meantime, just in case you thought I forgot all about Cougar Town (well, I haven't talked about it in like, a day), I give you another Lady Liberty YouTube find, this one illuminating Laurie's coffee buying habits. Damn, Busy Phillips is a rock star at memorization.
Have a lovely holiday (if you're celebrating), and a lovely long weekend (if you're celebrating or not). Scout Camp is changing locations this weekend, so Monday Menu Mayhem will probably involve locating pots and pans. Stay tuned for the excitement.
14 April 2011
In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday is Too ADD to Decide.
I don't even want to talk about it.
Friends, blog-ees, countrymen, I have nothing new to report this week by way of awesome new discoveries in awesomeness.
Really the biggest things I have been obsessed with are The Good Wife (I mean... seriously. WHY ARE YOU ALL NOT WATCHING IT ALL THE TIME?? Or, at the very least, WHY ARE YOU ALL NOT WATCHING IT WHEN YOU ARE NOT WATCHING COUGAR TOWN??) and old school (not to be confused with Old Skool) Lisa Kleypas historicals.
Both are the entertainment equivalent of comfort food.
Except that The Good Wife isn't so much comforting as it is ohholyhellamazing. Have I mentioned how much I love Julianna Marguiles? Not in the past week? WELL. She is beautiful. And damn can that woman act. I mean, for reals. Without going all spoiler-alerty, let me just say that the last 20 or so seconds of this week's episode were Off the Charts Acting 101. Her character, Alicia, finds out a BIG secret, and suddenly, as she's walking down a deserted hotel hallway, we see the woman who's held it together for two seasons just... crumble. Before our very eyes. It was heartbreaking for unobvious reasons (again with the spoiler-alertiness), and I cannot believe we now have to wait until May for the metaphorical shit to hit the metaphorical fan.
As for the Kleypases, there is something very very soothing about the interactions of her heroes and heroines. I mean, even when they're behaving like idiots (Hi Derek Craven. You know how much I love you... Just shut up and marry her, already), there is no doubt about how much they love each other and how much they want to be together. Sure there are obstacles, but they almost don't matter when faced with the blinding chemistry of an atypical regency Miss and her dashingly unconventional Knight in Shining Armor.
And that's all she wrote. No seriously.
Friends, blog-ees, countrymen, I have nothing new to report this week by way of awesome new discoveries in awesomeness.
Really the biggest things I have been obsessed with are The Good Wife (I mean... seriously. WHY ARE YOU ALL NOT WATCHING IT ALL THE TIME?? Or, at the very least, WHY ARE YOU ALL NOT WATCHING IT WHEN YOU ARE NOT WATCHING COUGAR TOWN??) and old school (not to be confused with Old Skool) Lisa Kleypas historicals.
Both are the entertainment equivalent of comfort food.
Except that The Good Wife isn't so much comforting as it is ohholyhellamazing. Have I mentioned how much I love Julianna Marguiles? Not in the past week? WELL. She is beautiful. And damn can that woman act. I mean, for reals. Without going all spoiler-alerty, let me just say that the last 20 or so seconds of this week's episode were Off the Charts Acting 101. Her character, Alicia, finds out a BIG secret, and suddenly, as she's walking down a deserted hotel hallway, we see the woman who's held it together for two seasons just... crumble. Before our very eyes. It was heartbreaking for unobvious reasons (again with the spoiler-alertiness), and I cannot believe we now have to wait until May for the metaphorical shit to hit the metaphorical fan.
As for the Kleypases, there is something very very soothing about the interactions of her heroes and heroines. I mean, even when they're behaving like idiots (Hi Derek Craven. You know how much I love you... Just shut up and marry her, already), there is no doubt about how much they love each other and how much they want to be together. Sure there are obstacles, but they almost don't matter when faced with the blinding chemistry of an atypical regency Miss and her dashingly unconventional Knight in Shining Armor.
And that's all she wrote. No seriously.
7 April 2011
In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday is Avoiding You
Another product of the glorious Lady Liberty Weekend is the new videos she exposed us to. You see, law students have plenty of time to do things like explore YouTube, because they spend so much of their time procrastinating.
At least, in my limited experience, this generalization is very, very true.
So behold, a Lady Liberty endorsed video that keeps giving me asthma attacks because I am laughing so hard. And also makes me seriously ponder the best person to do this to.
At least, in my limited experience, this generalization is very, very true.
So behold, a Lady Liberty endorsed video that keeps giving me asthma attacks because I am laughing so hard. And also makes me seriously ponder the best person to do this to.
31 March 2011
In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday Loves Gwyneth.
Confession time: Gwyneth Paltrow is among my life-gurus.
I know it's dumb, and more than a little lame, but I simply can't help myself. I've been a GOOP subscriber pretty much since its inception (it started as a sheer-curiosity, "WTF is she going to write about every week?" thing) and the more I read, the more I love her.
I re-emphasize that I know this is lame.
Here's what I like: she's a foodie. And she readily admits she's imperfect. And her life-motto, the one quoted in her new book (the main object of my obsession) speaks to me on a number of levels:
This is the kind of chill philosophy with which I can get down.
Gwyneth imparts life-tips every week, and this is something you have to take with a HUGE grain of salt. Like really, a huge one. A couple of weeks ago she wrote a column about being a working mom and how crazy life can be. People immediately jumped on the fact that she is a millionaire, and that part of her life-busy-ness is that she takes an hour and a half to work out every day. You know what, though? I don't really have energy to take issue with that. She wasn't saying "everyone should be like me all the time," she was sharing tips for life organization, and using her own life to provide examples.
But whatever.
In any event, Gwynnie was on the cover of Vogue last year (August?) and it mentioned that she was coming out with a cookbook. I pretty much freaked out and pre-ordered it right then and there. When My Father's Daughter: Delicious, Easy Recipes Celebrating Family & Togetherness came to my door this week, I sat down and read it cover to cover, stopping only to be polite enough to speak to my family during dinner.
(Those familiar with Gwyneth's food-and-family philosophy will find this painfully ironic)
I'm learning that there is such a thing as duck bacon (ohholyhell, and where can I get some?!), and about things like agave and spelt flour. I'm not sure I'm going to have a complete diet renaissance, but the presentation of these hippy-ish things is such that I'm intrigued. And that's really cool.
So yeah, run to the library or to the book store, and check this book out. And if you feel like it, subscribe to GOOP. It's not always awesome (this week's fashion issue was not something that spoke to me at all), but usually there is a little slice of inspiration that gives a new perspective.
And that's OK with me.
I know it's dumb, and more than a little lame, but I simply can't help myself. I've been a GOOP subscriber pretty much since its inception (it started as a sheer-curiosity, "WTF is she going to write about every week?" thing) and the more I read, the more I love her.
I re-emphasize that I know this is lame.
Here's what I like: she's a foodie. And she readily admits she's imperfect. And her life-motto, the one quoted in her new book (the main object of my obsession) speaks to me on a number of levels:
Invest in what's real. Clean as you go. Drink while you cook. Make it fun. It doesn't have to be complicated. It will be what it will be.
This is the kind of chill philosophy with which I can get down.
Gwyneth imparts life-tips every week, and this is something you have to take with a HUGE grain of salt. Like really, a huge one. A couple of weeks ago she wrote a column about being a working mom and how crazy life can be. People immediately jumped on the fact that she is a millionaire, and that part of her life-busy-ness is that she takes an hour and a half to work out every day. You know what, though? I don't really have energy to take issue with that. She wasn't saying "everyone should be like me all the time," she was sharing tips for life organization, and using her own life to provide examples.
But whatever.
In any event, Gwynnie was on the cover of Vogue last year (August?) and it mentioned that she was coming out with a cookbook. I pretty much freaked out and pre-ordered it right then and there. When My Father's Daughter: Delicious, Easy Recipes Celebrating Family & Togetherness came to my door this week, I sat down and read it cover to cover, stopping only to be polite enough to speak to my family during dinner.
(Those familiar with Gwyneth's food-and-family philosophy will find this painfully ironic)
I'm learning that there is such a thing as duck bacon (ohholyhell, and where can I get some?!), and about things like agave and spelt flour. I'm not sure I'm going to have a complete diet renaissance, but the presentation of these hippy-ish things is such that I'm intrigued. And that's really cool.
So yeah, run to the library or to the book store, and check this book out. And if you feel like it, subscribe to GOOP. It's not always awesome (this week's fashion issue was not something that spoke to me at all), but usually there is a little slice of inspiration that gives a new perspective.
And that's OK with me.
24 March 2011
In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday Goes to Town
That title is a really bad pun.
By now you might (should?) be familiar with my show-watching habits, but let me summarize: I don't watch new shows. I don't like getting invested in anything that starts airing in September and might not be around in October. Not to mention the fact that pilots can be insanely awkward and broad, because writers and actors can't get a sense of what a show will become in the span of 22 minutes and a limited budget.
I like to see how things progress.
And I really like to hear what other people have to say. I talk to my friends (sometimes I should listen to them and take action way sooner... Morrow/Morris girls, I'm looking at you). I read Facebook Newsfeed statii re: shows others are obsessed with. I also read Michael Ausiello.
Ausiello and I have been through a lot together. I'm now reading (on TVLine) the third incarnation of the legendary Ask Ausiello, and considering the fact that I am still in possession of my original TVGuide Ask Ausiello TShirt, I would say I'm a genuine Aushole (this can be taken as either a compliment or an insult, depending on the day or the time).
Aus has never failed me when it comes to show recommending, though I admit Chuck was not nearly as enthralling as I wanted it to be.
OMG WHEN WILL I GET TO THE POINT??
Dear Michael has been talking of little else than Cougar Town. OK. That's a lie. But it's definitely on his "I'mobsessedwiththisshowandeveryoneelseneedstobetoo" list.
And now it's on mine.
This obsession is about 3 weeks long now, starting with the purchase (and subsequent marathon) of season one followed closely by the iTunes season pass purchase (and subsequent marathon) of season two.
Boy Scout and La Dame Laliberte are also hooked thanks to my rantings and ravings. And also my insistently putting it in front of them all the time.
Cougar Town sounds awful (really awful), but it's not: Courteney Cox's Jules Cobb is a real estate agent who finds herself aged 40, divorced, and about to send her only son off to college. What's a red wine drinkin' gal to do? Settle in with a motley crue of best friend neighbors, crazy white trash assistant, and semi-normal (but also really weird) divorcé across-the-street-neighbor. Hijinks ensue. And with all of these crazy big personalities running around, there are hijinks aplenty.
The first few eps are indeed awkward: you can tell watching that the showrunners were trying to find the correct tone. For a little bit, the show is exactly what the title indicates, and that is a tale about a sexy middle-aged woman dating younger men in order to recapture her youth.
What the show evolves in to, though, is an absolutely hilarious examination of family, friends, and relationships. With wine.
La Lalib and I have developed a new philosophical stance: WWJAED, which means What Would Jules and Ellie (her best friend) Do? I plan on living the rest of my life with these guidelines.
By now you might (should?) be familiar with my show-watching habits, but let me summarize: I don't watch new shows. I don't like getting invested in anything that starts airing in September and might not be around in October. Not to mention the fact that pilots can be insanely awkward and broad, because writers and actors can't get a sense of what a show will become in the span of 22 minutes and a limited budget.
I like to see how things progress.
And I really like to hear what other people have to say. I talk to my friends (sometimes I should listen to them and take action way sooner... Morrow/Morris girls, I'm looking at you). I read Facebook Newsfeed statii re: shows others are obsessed with. I also read Michael Ausiello.
Ausiello and I have been through a lot together. I'm now reading (on TVLine) the third incarnation of the legendary Ask Ausiello, and considering the fact that I am still in possession of my original TVGuide Ask Ausiello TShirt, I would say I'm a genuine Aushole (this can be taken as either a compliment or an insult, depending on the day or the time).
Aus has never failed me when it comes to show recommending, though I admit Chuck was not nearly as enthralling as I wanted it to be.
OMG WHEN WILL I GET TO THE POINT??
Dear Michael has been talking of little else than Cougar Town. OK. That's a lie. But it's definitely on his "I'mobsessedwiththisshowandeveryoneelseneedstobetoo" list.
And now it's on mine.
This obsession is about 3 weeks long now, starting with the purchase (and subsequent marathon) of season one followed closely by the iTunes season pass purchase (and subsequent marathon) of season two.
Boy Scout and La Dame Laliberte are also hooked thanks to my rantings and ravings. And also my insistently putting it in front of them all the time.
Cougar Town sounds awful (really awful), but it's not: Courteney Cox's Jules Cobb is a real estate agent who finds herself aged 40, divorced, and about to send her only son off to college. What's a red wine drinkin' gal to do? Settle in with a motley crue of best friend neighbors, crazy white trash assistant, and semi-normal (but also really weird) divorcé across-the-street-neighbor. Hijinks ensue. And with all of these crazy big personalities running around, there are hijinks aplenty.
The first few eps are indeed awkward: you can tell watching that the showrunners were trying to find the correct tone. For a little bit, the show is exactly what the title indicates, and that is a tale about a sexy middle-aged woman dating younger men in order to recapture her youth.
What the show evolves in to, though, is an absolutely hilarious examination of family, friends, and relationships. With wine.
La Lalib and I have developed a new philosophical stance: WWJAED, which means What Would Jules and Ellie (her best friend) Do? I plan on living the rest of my life with these guidelines.
17 March 2011
In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday Loves the Muppets
Happy St. Patrick's Day everyone! In honor of the day (and because everything is better with The Muppets), we have a video!
And let me just say, it's all about Animal.
Enjoy!
And let me just say, it's all about Animal.
Enjoy!
3 March 2011
In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday Needs Friends
So this is me, housesitting.
There has been lots of reading (yay!), lots of show-catching-up (ohholycrapthegoodwifeisamazing), and lots of sitting around eating leftover homemade Thai food.
I didn't bother to bring my Felicity DVDs (the next marathon in line) with me, because my lovely housesitting hostess is the person who introduced me to our favorite curly-haired navel gazer, and thusly has all of the discs anyway. I arrived on Sunday just in time to settle in and watch a couple of eps before the (disastrous) Oscars, went to the DVD closet (And yes, it is a closet... Boy Scout? This is your future!) and was totally and completely distracted.
By Friends. Specifically, the latter six seasons of Friends.
This is a huge chunk of nostalgia for me, as I was obsessed with this show all through middle school. We (Friends and I) sort of fell out toward the end of high school (I think the positive pregnancy test was the last time I watched the show regularly), but I still tuned in for the big stuff (Emma's birth, Phoebe's wedding, the finale, etc.)
I started this mini-fleeting marathon at season 4, right around the time Ross meets Emily and proceeds on his meltdown of life (actually, the episode I started with, specifically, was The One with the Embryos, mostly because I wanted to watch the girls lose their apartment to the guys. Epic). Some classic moments: The One with All the Thanksgivings. Monica and Chandler's secret relationship. Everything ever involving the chick and the duck.
Friends was a long time ago (remember when Phoebe had her brother's triplets? Yeah, those babies would be thirteen today. How old do you feel??), but it doesn't feel old (beyond an obvious lack of cell phones). The stories still roll along, and the plot points magically remain relevant. I'm not sure I would have guessed it at the time, but it turns out this pop-culture phenomenon may just end up being one of those "old shows" that our kids end up watching. And liking.
Whoa.
There has been lots of reading (yay!), lots of show-catching-up (ohholycrapthegoodwifeisamazing), and lots of sitting around eating leftover homemade Thai food.
I didn't bother to bring my Felicity DVDs (the next marathon in line) with me, because my lovely housesitting hostess is the person who introduced me to our favorite curly-haired navel gazer, and thusly has all of the discs anyway. I arrived on Sunday just in time to settle in and watch a couple of eps before the (disastrous) Oscars, went to the DVD closet (And yes, it is a closet... Boy Scout? This is your future!) and was totally and completely distracted.
By Friends. Specifically, the latter six seasons of Friends.
This is a huge chunk of nostalgia for me, as I was obsessed with this show all through middle school. We (Friends and I) sort of fell out toward the end of high school (I think the positive pregnancy test was the last time I watched the show regularly), but I still tuned in for the big stuff (Emma's birth, Phoebe's wedding, the finale, etc.)
I started this mini-fleeting marathon at season 4, right around the time Ross meets Emily and proceeds on his meltdown of life (actually, the episode I started with, specifically, was The One with the Embryos, mostly because I wanted to watch the girls lose their apartment to the guys. Epic). Some classic moments: The One with All the Thanksgivings. Monica and Chandler's secret relationship. Everything ever involving the chick and the duck.
Friends was a long time ago (remember when Phoebe had her brother's triplets? Yeah, those babies would be thirteen today. How old do you feel??), but it doesn't feel old (beyond an obvious lack of cell phones). The stories still roll along, and the plot points magically remain relevant. I'm not sure I would have guessed it at the time, but it turns out this pop-culture phenomenon may just end up being one of those "old shows" that our kids end up watching. And liking.
Whoa.
24 February 2011
In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday Learns to Hepburn
My all-time favorite movie is The Philadelphia Story.
Katharine Hepburn's Tracy Lord and Cary Grant's CK Dexter Haven have a romance that's about fifty years ahead of its time, made for the era of Aaron Sorkin, but lived out in the era of George Cukor, which is really just as good. There's something in the word play, the intelligence of the characters, the quickness of the wit ("No mean Machiavelli is smiling, cynical Sidney Kidd") that speaks to me on a deeper level. They are imperfect people living imperfect lives, but they're doing the best they can, and in the end they get something akin to happiness.
And then there's Bringing Up Baby.
I had the pleasure of watching it on screen at the Katharine Hepburn Cultural Arts Center this evening, a feat that might be considered redundant, since I totally own the DVD.
But man oh man, was it well worth the effort.
While The Philadelphia Story is the polished, civilized, urbane, adult romance, Bringing Up Baby is nothing less than a roiling madcap frenzy of ridiculousness. In the absolute best way possible.
Poor Cary Grant's David Huxley is a zoologist looking for funding for his museum. Nutty Kate's Susan Vance is an eccentric heiress looking for... well, somewhere to keep the pet leopard her brother sent up from Brazil. She may or may not also be looking for love.
Let's just say this: There's a zoologist in possession of a very important bone for his collection. There's a dog named George who steals and buries bones. There's a "good" leopard on the loose. There's also a "bad" leopard on the loose. There's an alcoholic gardener who's seen everything, a big-game hunter who can't recognize the leopard mating call ("it's a loon," indeed), a psychiatrist who continually falls victim to theft, and a sheriff so desperate to be re-elected that he locks up exactly the wrong people.
In the middle of it all are David and Susan, running around like lunatics (no wonder she's so skinny!) trying to find the bone, trying to capture the leopard, and trying to keep everyone else at bay. And also trying (well, at least she is) to fall in love. Is it realistic? Absolutely not. In fact, in the end, I'm not even sure why they like each other.
Kate is phenomenal. She bounces from scene to scene, lit with an energy that cannot be tamed. And that insane giggle, that perfectly screeched "Oh, David," gives Cary Grant the exact right balance for his deadpan slide into the gaslight.
It's funny, it's sweet, and it's the original screwball comedy. What more do you need than that?
17 February 2011
In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday Loves to Travel.
Hi Friends!
It's been a busy week. I detoured to Orlando for Tuesday/Wednesday (Yes, it was warm, but the sun wasn't really out, and before you get jealous, I was there for about twenty-four hours, going to a convention that took place in my hotel. Visiting Mickey we were not).
One of the strangest parts of my life (now) is that I do relatively little travelling. Which is ironic, given the pace of my autumn, but it's true-- in previous lives there was a time I got on a plane for a round-trip about once a month. Yikes.
So travelling for business now feels natural, like returning to an old friend. One of the best parts of travelling for me is the opportunity to read my Vanity Fair, cover-to-cover, without feeling like I have something else I should be doing. I often have this problem (the "shouldn't I be doing something else?" problem) because for the most part I should be reading something to review for this blog (...) or marathoning something (...) or catching up on all of the back eps of Supernatural I have hiding on my hard drive.
Not so, this week. No book (*sob*), no laptop (*whimper*)... no problem?! Vanity Fair (or any magazine, I'm sure) is key for plane travel, because no matter what happens they can't take it away from you. It doesn't have to come out of your bag to go through the x-ray machine, it doesn't have to be turned off and stowed for takeoff/landing, and it will not run out of battery.
What I like about Vanity Fair specifically is that the articles are long, but not too long, and can be parceled out at any stage of the journey; standing in the security line, waiting at the gate, and indeed, after the captain tells the flight attendants to prepare the cabin for landing.
This month, I am particularly enchanted by this article by Michael Lewis, entitled When Irish Eyes Are Crying. It's not a nice article, it's about the economic fall of Ireland and the idiocy (yes, I am perfectly comfortable with the judgy-mcjudgyness in that statement) of the Irish government following the collapse. Let's just say to those who are upset by the bailouts: at least our government didn't guarantee every penny lost. What I really like about this piece is that it is totally comprehensible; for the same reasons I had slight issues with the Vanderbilt biography, I often can't read articles about the economy because I simply cannot follow what-in-the-holy-hell is going on. The Vanity Fair piece is uncompromising in its analysis, and extremely clear on all points.
It also set me on a warpath to buy property in Dublin. You know, like a vacation home. Who's with me?
There's also this most badass piece on Lauren Bacall, a most badass chick. Perhaps my next in-car book needs to be a Bogie bio. Hmmm...
Happy Thursday, all. Be sure and come back soon (Maybe tomorrow, Wendy Pan? Maybe?) for A Skeptic's Review of The Blades of the Rose. It's gonna be a good one.
It's been a busy week. I detoured to Orlando for Tuesday/Wednesday (Yes, it was warm, but the sun wasn't really out, and before you get jealous, I was there for about twenty-four hours, going to a convention that took place in my hotel. Visiting Mickey we were not).
One of the strangest parts of my life (now) is that I do relatively little travelling. Which is ironic, given the pace of my autumn, but it's true-- in previous lives there was a time I got on a plane for a round-trip about once a month. Yikes.
So travelling for business now feels natural, like returning to an old friend. One of the best parts of travelling for me is the opportunity to read my Vanity Fair, cover-to-cover, without feeling like I have something else I should be doing. I often have this problem (the "shouldn't I be doing something else?" problem) because for the most part I should be reading something to review for this blog (...) or marathoning something (...) or catching up on all of the back eps of Supernatural I have hiding on my hard drive.
Not so, this week. No book (*sob*), no laptop (*whimper*)... no problem?! Vanity Fair (or any magazine, I'm sure) is key for plane travel, because no matter what happens they can't take it away from you. It doesn't have to come out of your bag to go through the x-ray machine, it doesn't have to be turned off and stowed for takeoff/landing, and it will not run out of battery.
What I like about Vanity Fair specifically is that the articles are long, but not too long, and can be parceled out at any stage of the journey; standing in the security line, waiting at the gate, and indeed, after the captain tells the flight attendants to prepare the cabin for landing.
This month, I am particularly enchanted by this article by Michael Lewis, entitled When Irish Eyes Are Crying. It's not a nice article, it's about the economic fall of Ireland and the idiocy (yes, I am perfectly comfortable with the judgy-mcjudgyness in that statement) of the Irish government following the collapse. Let's just say to those who are upset by the bailouts: at least our government didn't guarantee every penny lost. What I really like about this piece is that it is totally comprehensible; for the same reasons I had slight issues with the Vanderbilt biography, I often can't read articles about the economy because I simply cannot follow what-in-the-holy-hell is going on. The Vanity Fair piece is uncompromising in its analysis, and extremely clear on all points.
It also set me on a warpath to buy property in Dublin. You know, like a vacation home. Who's with me?
There's also this most badass piece on Lauren Bacall, a most badass chick. Perhaps my next in-car book needs to be a Bogie bio. Hmmm...
Happy Thursday, all. Be sure and come back soon (Maybe tomorrow, Wendy Pan? Maybe?) for A Skeptic's Review of The Blades of the Rose. It's gonna be a good one.
10 February 2011
In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday Plugs Along on the Non-Fiction Front.
Quick recap for those who don't know: I get all of my non-fiction reading-by-listening done during the four hour round-trip I make about once a week to Scout Camp. It's served me well; I've gotten a considerable chunk of non-fiction reading done since this whole crazy idea took shape, far more than if I had tried to find the time to actually... well, read.
My focus for the past few weeks (because that's how long these things take) has been The First Tycoon: The Epic Life of Cornelius Vanderbilt by T. J. Stiles. I first saw the book in San Francisco (I think), and was extremely excited to give it a try as soon as I finished A. Lincoln.
And when I finally finished it today, I felt... underwhelmed.
This was upsetting, because I had super high hopes. This book won the National Book Award, after all, and I really wanted something epic (as the title suggests), along the John Adams lines. In the end, I don't feel like I know Cornelius Vanderbilt any better; I know he was an obscenely wealthy man (adjusted to today's dollars, he's worth over $100 billion), and I know that he made his money in shipping and railroads.
I suppose, ultimately, that I also know that he helped to pave the way west, and that he had an incredibly fractured (yet interesting!) family life.
But I really don't know that much about him. The book is filled with interesting historical economic facts (perhaps too many, it can be difficult to follow) and cannot emphasize enough the role Vanderbilt had in shaping our modern economy (and it really cannot be overstated... the country would not be the same without him), but the man himself remains elusive.
We know what he did, but not much of why he did it. And call me a lame-o, but my favorite parts of biographies tend to be the nitty-gritty relationship details, the interpersonal relationships between the subject of the book and the people surrounding him/her. In this book, I really wish there had been as much about the difficulties Vanderbilt had with his various sons and sons-in-law (and his daughters!), and the intriguing relationship he had with his first wife, Sophia as there was about dividends and railroad monopolies. Cornelius and Sophia Vanderbilt were married for over fifty years, and yet Sophia only shows up in the text sporadically, mostly as a set-piece in the difficult relationship Vanderbilt had with his son, another Cornelius.
The First Tycoon reads almost like a laundry list of stock shortages, railroad routes, and how to corner the stock market, nineteenth century-style, and I'm way too far removed from an economics classroom to follow the finer points.
I certainly admire the work put in to the book; Stiles did his research and gives plenty of details about the financial and political goings-on at the time. I only wish he had been able to tell me more about the man he's supposedly writing about.
My focus for the past few weeks (because that's how long these things take) has been The First Tycoon: The Epic Life of Cornelius Vanderbilt by T. J. Stiles. I first saw the book in San Francisco (I think), and was extremely excited to give it a try as soon as I finished A. Lincoln.
And when I finally finished it today, I felt... underwhelmed.
This was upsetting, because I had super high hopes. This book won the National Book Award, after all, and I really wanted something epic (as the title suggests), along the John Adams lines. In the end, I don't feel like I know Cornelius Vanderbilt any better; I know he was an obscenely wealthy man (adjusted to today's dollars, he's worth over $100 billion), and I know that he made his money in shipping and railroads.
I suppose, ultimately, that I also know that he helped to pave the way west, and that he had an incredibly fractured (yet interesting!) family life.
But I really don't know that much about him. The book is filled with interesting historical economic facts (perhaps too many, it can be difficult to follow) and cannot emphasize enough the role Vanderbilt had in shaping our modern economy (and it really cannot be overstated... the country would not be the same without him), but the man himself remains elusive.
We know what he did, but not much of why he did it. And call me a lame-o, but my favorite parts of biographies tend to be the nitty-gritty relationship details, the interpersonal relationships between the subject of the book and the people surrounding him/her. In this book, I really wish there had been as much about the difficulties Vanderbilt had with his various sons and sons-in-law (and his daughters!), and the intriguing relationship he had with his first wife, Sophia as there was about dividends and railroad monopolies. Cornelius and Sophia Vanderbilt were married for over fifty years, and yet Sophia only shows up in the text sporadically, mostly as a set-piece in the difficult relationship Vanderbilt had with his son, another Cornelius.
The First Tycoon reads almost like a laundry list of stock shortages, railroad routes, and how to corner the stock market, nineteenth century-style, and I'm way too far removed from an economics classroom to follow the finer points.
I certainly admire the work put in to the book; Stiles did his research and gives plenty of details about the financial and political goings-on at the time. I only wish he had been able to tell me more about the man he's supposedly writing about.
3 February 2011
In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday is Filled with Procrastination Tools.
It's been one of those days/weeks/months. Call it the winter doldrums, call it the need for hibernation, call it not wanting to talk to anyone anymore because you're so tired of hearing complaints about the weather. Call it awesome supernatural mind melt due to intensive amounts of Buffy and Blades of the Rose.
Whatever it is, my concentration is down, my mood is pensive, and my need for staring in to the distance is up up up.
THUS! I present to you all of the things I have used to distract myself in the past few days.
First of all, have you seen www.theoatmeal.com? No? You need to go there. Now. If you don't have time for browsing, please at least check out this: The State of the Web, What It's Like to Own an Apple Product (truer words...) and How Many Baboons Could You Take in a Fight.... Wendy Pan took the quiz. She got 37.
Also, have you seen this video? It's the single greatest thing I have yet seen this year. I think I watched it six times today, because it kept making me smile.
There's also this video, which also made me smile, but more in the stand-up-and-cheer kinda way. If this man represents the future leaders of our country, then sign me up:
If that's not enough coolness for you, then I'm... not cool enough. But I thought we already knew that...?
GO PACKERS!!
Whatever it is, my concentration is down, my mood is pensive, and my need for staring in to the distance is up up up.
THUS! I present to you all of the things I have used to distract myself in the past few days.
First of all, have you seen www.theoatmeal.com? No? You need to go there. Now. If you don't have time for browsing, please at least check out this: The State of the Web, What It's Like to Own an Apple Product (truer words...) and How Many Baboons Could You Take in a Fight.... Wendy Pan took the quiz. She got 37.
Also, have you seen this video? It's the single greatest thing I have yet seen this year. I think I watched it six times today, because it kept making me smile.
There's also this video, which also made me smile, but more in the stand-up-and-cheer kinda way. If this man represents the future leaders of our country, then sign me up:
If that's not enough coolness for you, then I'm... not cool enough. But I thought we already knew that...?
GO PACKERS!!
20 January 2011
In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday Lives the Obsession
First of all, a very special thanks and shout-out to the Wendy Pan for her most excellent review of the Amazon Kindle. As a hopeful librarian in training, I have serious issues with the thought of giving up printed books, though we all know I have certainly found solace in my Kindle for iPhone.
I was going to let the Wendy Pan's obsession sit as Obsession de la semaine, but I already had mine plotted... so hers shall be the review de la semaine. Dig?
So the reason I can't come up with a review myself is because this week I am obsessed with... Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Have I mentioned that one of the ways I maintain my sanity in life is through marathons of excellent TV shows? It's been far too long since I have Buffy'd, Aliased, Felicity'd, and Battlestar Galactica'd, and my psyche is showing the signs of neglect.
Part of the ohholyhell awesomeness is the heroines, obviously. Sydney Bristow is one of the best (duh), and I have even taken important life lessons from Felicity, especially in the realm of... not getting drunk and waking up in a frat boy's bed.
ANYWAY.
Buffy and I have very little in common, and I can't relate to her, so it's hard for me to call her One of My Favorite Heroines. That said, Joss Whedon wrote a brilliant character; a valley girl who fights vampires, is secretly super smart, and has common sense coming out of her ears. And as I watch first two and a half seasons (Thank you, Boy Scout. There is a secret place in Boyfriend Heaven for Boys Who Let Their Girlfriends Work Out Their Issues Through Vampire Violence), I cannot help but think about another teenage girl who falls in love with a vampire against her better judgment (?) and lives to tell the tale. Whether that tale is horrifically bad or not.
But as in so many most excellent things, the best part of Buffy is the supporting players. Xander, Willow, and Giles all make or break the show... the few eps that any or all of them are not present are lacking severely. The dialogue, the intelligence, the His Girl Friday-brand rapport is insane (in the best way) and when (the long-suffering) Boy Scout announced that he wasn't a fan of Buffy because "it's just not realistic," I couldn't help but take it as the best compliment ever.
This is where we are. Obsessed with marathoning, and marathoning Buffy. It's comfort food for the nerd's hibernating soul.
I was going to let the Wendy Pan's obsession sit as Obsession de la semaine, but I already had mine plotted... so hers shall be the review de la semaine. Dig?
So the reason I can't come up with a review myself is because this week I am obsessed with... Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Have I mentioned that one of the ways I maintain my sanity in life is through marathons of excellent TV shows? It's been far too long since I have Buffy'd, Aliased, Felicity'd, and Battlestar Galactica'd, and my psyche is showing the signs of neglect.
Part of the ohholyhell awesomeness is the heroines, obviously. Sydney Bristow is one of the best (duh), and I have even taken important life lessons from Felicity, especially in the realm of... not getting drunk and waking up in a frat boy's bed.
ANYWAY.
Buffy and I have very little in common, and I can't relate to her, so it's hard for me to call her One of My Favorite Heroines. That said, Joss Whedon wrote a brilliant character; a valley girl who fights vampires, is secretly super smart, and has common sense coming out of her ears. And as I watch first two and a half seasons (Thank you, Boy Scout. There is a secret place in Boyfriend Heaven for Boys Who Let Their Girlfriends Work Out Their Issues Through Vampire Violence), I cannot help but think about another teenage girl who falls in love with a vampire against her better judgment (?) and lives to tell the tale. Whether that tale is horrifically bad or not.
But as in so many most excellent things, the best part of Buffy is the supporting players. Xander, Willow, and Giles all make or break the show... the few eps that any or all of them are not present are lacking severely. The dialogue, the intelligence, the His Girl Friday-brand rapport is insane (in the best way) and when (the long-suffering) Boy Scout announced that he wasn't a fan of Buffy because "it's just not realistic," I couldn't help but take it as the best compliment ever.
This is where we are. Obsessed with marathoning, and marathoning Buffy. It's comfort food for the nerd's hibernating soul.
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