Chelsey Cosh's Blog: From Mind to Mouth - Posts Tagged "aids"
Hot Summer Streets And The Pavements Are Burning, I Sit Around.
August is a good month for family. My mother and sister both celebrated their birthdays (and then, today happens to be my birthday, but that's September, so that's a story for next time). My parents celebrated their wedding anniversary in August (31 years and counting). And with the bright sunny days, we all just want to hang out on the patio together and eat barbecue. Life is good. So, what did I do? Bury my nose in a book. In fact, I buried my nose in a lot of them.
This reading challenge is going to give me a Vitamin D deficiency.
Book #25: A book that's set in summertime
For this prompt, I went to a classic: A Midsummer Night's Dream . I mean, "summer" is in the title, so I can't be wrong.
This is the second of Shakespeare's comedies that I have read. (Although I was given a copy of Much Ado About Nothing by my special education resource teacher as a child, I never got around to reading it and instead read The Tempest first as part of my high school syllabus.) As far as Shakespearean comedies go, it's not my favourite (The Tempest, by default, is); Midsummer seems too much about the folly of love and doesn't say too much here or there about anything, really. Everything's just done for shits and giggles. I appreciated The Tempest's motivations behind its actions and, frankly, I'd rather read any of Shakespeare's tragedies over his comedies. Still, if I can deduce anything from Midsummer, then the principal point is that true love and happiness are made-up, a fallacy concocted up from magic and trickery. So, the happy ending and marital bliss and all the joyous laughter are merely . . . nothing? Ultimately, I don't know and I don't care. The sourness of that message, as that is all I can extract from what is ultimately a huge farce, is far more pessimistic than anything in the tragic downfalls of King Lear, Othello and Desdemona, Romeo and Juliet, or any of the like. Sorry, Willy, this one's just not for me.
Book #26: A book from Oprah's Book Club
When I was a kid (because, during her heyday, I certainly was a young 'un), I loved Oprah. She was this magical entity of smiles and giggles. She did some very serious episodes, which at the time I didn't fully understand, but for the most part, it was animals, information, celebrities, and laughs. And, as it turns out, books. I loved to read as a kid, so you would have thought I would have been much more aware of her book club.
That was not the case. I only really took note in light of the James Frey incident. I bought his book because of Oprah, further evidence of the Oprah effect. I was shocked when I found out that some of this so-called true story was, in fact, fabricated. Now, I feel like that's not such a big deal, considering it doesn't make the story and the experience it conveys any less true in theory. For the same reason, I feel that the Orange is the New Black television program, which has veered far from the original source material, Piper Kerman's memoir of the same name, is still true. Now, the names may be different, the locations, and any other number of details, but the experiences are much the same and the injustices even more so. The essence is real, and sometimes that's good enough.
But that's neither here nor there.
The point is, I didn't know a great deal about Oprah's book club until her show was off the air. I had read White Oleander not because Miz Winfrey had declared it so, but rather simply because I wanted to. It wasn't until later that I noticed her stamp of approval on the cover.
So, I had nothing in mind and had to look up a list for this prompt. I was oscillating between Paradise and the book I eventually chose. I determined that, considering its popularity, I would most certainly read Paradise in the future. It would not disappear like a faded memory from the public conscious, so I went with Option B.
I had never heard of What Looks Like Crazy on an Ordinary Day . Written by Pearl Cleage, What Looks Like Crazy tells the story of Ava Johnson, a successful Atlanta stylist, recently diagnosed with HIV, who returns home to Michigan to spend some time with her sister before leaving for San Francisco. She slowly gets wrapped up in the details of her sister's life until she finds not one but many reasons to stay put. But can she really live her life there? Or is she just being delusional? Coping with the shock of an incurable illness must be terrifying, but, while Ava does address her fears surrounding her diagnosis and the social stigma she faces now, the book mostly skims past all of the darkness and depression and god-knows-what-else that one would probably succumb to after that, trading it all in for Ava's composure and strength. As nice as it is to have a poised protagonist, that part feels less than realistic.
Otherwise, I absolutely freaking loved this novel. Pearl Cleage writes so well in Ava's voice, an ongoing trickle of thoughts that never feel contrived or constructed. Everything feels natural and respects the character's best and worst parts without sugarcoating or demonizing. She thinks what she thinks, completely uninhibited. She doesn't act on every thought. That's what makes her real. We sometimes have fleeting flashes of darkness, happiness, idiocy, prejudice, and everything else under the sun. We, as humankind, only act on a very small fraction of those ideas.
Lastly, I found Ava's quest for self-improvement inspiring. I'm sure Oprah did, too, and that's why Pearl Cleage's book landed itself a coveted spot on her Book Club list. Forever canonized as Lady O's lit of choice, I am glad that this novel got some attention -- not just by the world but by me. It was a fun experience to read and I am glad I found it.
Book #27: A book set in Europe
This is my favourite book so far. (It gets the edge on Sharp Objects, a vastly different novel.) It more than fulfilled its prompt as a book set in Europe with discussion of places like Italy, Greece, and Iceland, and settings like Switzerland, England (currently the country most on Europe's bad side), and a cafe in Le Marais and other parts of Paris. That book was Me Before You .
If I cried once, I cried a dozen times. Although I'm sure Me Before You is categorized as a romance novel, that's dealing with it in far too basic terms.
For one, it has a greater depth of subject matter than your average generic bodice ripper. There's an intense heaviness there you can't shake nor can you find in a Harlequin paperback. It transcends the genre in that way, but author Jojo Moyes is the real reason why Me Before You is so damn spectacular.
Her writing style rubs us raw and holds the bare skin to the flame. We feel it. We don't want it to hurt, but it does. We're invested despite ourselves.
In one of the more tearful moments, I concluded that Louisa Clark, the fictional protagonist, must be speaking to me. I couldn't stop flipping the pages, hearing the next thing and the next thing. Louisa’s voice (really, Jojo Moyes’s voice) beckons. Having experienced some of the same things this character has, I felt a closeness to her that I haven't felt since Lisbeth Salander (for the record, anything I might have in common with Lisbeth doesn't make me even remotely similar to her). In ways I like and in a few ways I don't (I too can tell you the exact day I stopped being fearless), I am like Louisa. Her story is ridiculously unique and individual and yet, in its tenderest moments, it engages everyone with the ubiquity of its emotion.
I absolutely loved this book and I don't think I'm alone in my fascination with it. I wouldn't hesitate to recommend Me Before You.
And that is it for August. A mere count of three for this month seems too small in my mind, though. Fingers crossed I can make some serious headway sooner rather than later. I am not looking forward to reading a 600-plus-page chunkster, but this is what the PopSugar gods have decreed. This challenge is, like, totally hard, guys.
Until then, happy reading!
This reading challenge is going to give me a Vitamin D deficiency.
Book #25: A book that's set in summertime
For this prompt, I went to a classic: A Midsummer Night's Dream . I mean, "summer" is in the title, so I can't be wrong.
This is the second of Shakespeare's comedies that I have read. (Although I was given a copy of Much Ado About Nothing by my special education resource teacher as a child, I never got around to reading it and instead read The Tempest first as part of my high school syllabus.) As far as Shakespearean comedies go, it's not my favourite (The Tempest, by default, is); Midsummer seems too much about the folly of love and doesn't say too much here or there about anything, really. Everything's just done for shits and giggles. I appreciated The Tempest's motivations behind its actions and, frankly, I'd rather read any of Shakespeare's tragedies over his comedies. Still, if I can deduce anything from Midsummer, then the principal point is that true love and happiness are made-up, a fallacy concocted up from magic and trickery. So, the happy ending and marital bliss and all the joyous laughter are merely . . . nothing? Ultimately, I don't know and I don't care. The sourness of that message, as that is all I can extract from what is ultimately a huge farce, is far more pessimistic than anything in the tragic downfalls of King Lear, Othello and Desdemona, Romeo and Juliet, or any of the like. Sorry, Willy, this one's just not for me.
Book #26: A book from Oprah's Book Club
When I was a kid (because, during her heyday, I certainly was a young 'un), I loved Oprah. She was this magical entity of smiles and giggles. She did some very serious episodes, which at the time I didn't fully understand, but for the most part, it was animals, information, celebrities, and laughs. And, as it turns out, books. I loved to read as a kid, so you would have thought I would have been much more aware of her book club.
That was not the case. I only really took note in light of the James Frey incident. I bought his book because of Oprah, further evidence of the Oprah effect. I was shocked when I found out that some of this so-called true story was, in fact, fabricated. Now, I feel like that's not such a big deal, considering it doesn't make the story and the experience it conveys any less true in theory. For the same reason, I feel that the Orange is the New Black television program, which has veered far from the original source material, Piper Kerman's memoir of the same name, is still true. Now, the names may be different, the locations, and any other number of details, but the experiences are much the same and the injustices even more so. The essence is real, and sometimes that's good enough.
But that's neither here nor there.
The point is, I didn't know a great deal about Oprah's book club until her show was off the air. I had read White Oleander not because Miz Winfrey had declared it so, but rather simply because I wanted to. It wasn't until later that I noticed her stamp of approval on the cover.
So, I had nothing in mind and had to look up a list for this prompt. I was oscillating between Paradise and the book I eventually chose. I determined that, considering its popularity, I would most certainly read Paradise in the future. It would not disappear like a faded memory from the public conscious, so I went with Option B.
I had never heard of What Looks Like Crazy on an Ordinary Day . Written by Pearl Cleage, What Looks Like Crazy tells the story of Ava Johnson, a successful Atlanta stylist, recently diagnosed with HIV, who returns home to Michigan to spend some time with her sister before leaving for San Francisco. She slowly gets wrapped up in the details of her sister's life until she finds not one but many reasons to stay put. But can she really live her life there? Or is she just being delusional? Coping with the shock of an incurable illness must be terrifying, but, while Ava does address her fears surrounding her diagnosis and the social stigma she faces now, the book mostly skims past all of the darkness and depression and god-knows-what-else that one would probably succumb to after that, trading it all in for Ava's composure and strength. As nice as it is to have a poised protagonist, that part feels less than realistic.
Otherwise, I absolutely freaking loved this novel. Pearl Cleage writes so well in Ava's voice, an ongoing trickle of thoughts that never feel contrived or constructed. Everything feels natural and respects the character's best and worst parts without sugarcoating or demonizing. She thinks what she thinks, completely uninhibited. She doesn't act on every thought. That's what makes her real. We sometimes have fleeting flashes of darkness, happiness, idiocy, prejudice, and everything else under the sun. We, as humankind, only act on a very small fraction of those ideas.
Lastly, I found Ava's quest for self-improvement inspiring. I'm sure Oprah did, too, and that's why Pearl Cleage's book landed itself a coveted spot on her Book Club list. Forever canonized as Lady O's lit of choice, I am glad that this novel got some attention -- not just by the world but by me. It was a fun experience to read and I am glad I found it.
Book #27: A book set in Europe
This is my favourite book so far. (It gets the edge on Sharp Objects, a vastly different novel.) It more than fulfilled its prompt as a book set in Europe with discussion of places like Italy, Greece, and Iceland, and settings like Switzerland, England (currently the country most on Europe's bad side), and a cafe in Le Marais and other parts of Paris. That book was Me Before You .
If I cried once, I cried a dozen times. Although I'm sure Me Before You is categorized as a romance novel, that's dealing with it in far too basic terms.
For one, it has a greater depth of subject matter than your average generic bodice ripper. There's an intense heaviness there you can't shake nor can you find in a Harlequin paperback. It transcends the genre in that way, but author Jojo Moyes is the real reason why Me Before You is so damn spectacular.
Her writing style rubs us raw and holds the bare skin to the flame. We feel it. We don't want it to hurt, but it does. We're invested despite ourselves.
In one of the more tearful moments, I concluded that Louisa Clark, the fictional protagonist, must be speaking to me. I couldn't stop flipping the pages, hearing the next thing and the next thing. Louisa’s voice (really, Jojo Moyes’s voice) beckons. Having experienced some of the same things this character has, I felt a closeness to her that I haven't felt since Lisbeth Salander (for the record, anything I might have in common with Lisbeth doesn't make me even remotely similar to her). In ways I like and in a few ways I don't (I too can tell you the exact day I stopped being fearless), I am like Louisa. Her story is ridiculously unique and individual and yet, in its tenderest moments, it engages everyone with the ubiquity of its emotion.
I absolutely loved this book and I don't think I'm alone in my fascination with it. I wouldn't hesitate to recommend Me Before You.
And that is it for August. A mere count of three for this month seems too small in my mind, though. Fingers crossed I can make some serious headway sooner rather than later. I am not looking forward to reading a 600-plus-page chunkster, but this is what the PopSugar gods have decreed. This challenge is, like, totally hard, guys.
Until then, happy reading!
