Pending, or my addiction to narrative
Sep. 10th, 2008 10:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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tacithydra's fault. All the books I am currently reading, where "currently" is defined as at least 50 pages through and the book is on site, which enables me to cut out anything I've put down after reading the first chapter as well as the vast unfinished and uncountable hordes lurking in storage, where 90% of my books are (offhand, I feel most guilty about Stephen King's Lisey's Story, where I stalled 3 chapters from the end 2 years ago, John Berger's G, where I stopped in admiration at the amazing flight over the alps sequence 3 years ago and have yet to re-attempt, and Mary Gentle's 1610, which I have started three times, gotten half as far each time (100 pages, 50, 25...) and am now avoiding for fear of being trapped in a fictional version of Zeno's paradox). These are all books where the main thing stopping me reading them is just that I'm not doing it, although other contributing themes identified below include annoyance with main characters, moving house at a crucial point in the narrative (by me, not the characters) or just plain incompetence (again, usually me). These are, therefore, all books I intend to finish, but you know what they say about good intentions.
Books:
Harold Avery, Day Boy Colours (not terribly good boys' school story by not terribly good boys' school story author. I should have restrained myself and looked for something by Mowbray or Talbot Baines Reed)
Pat Barker, Regeneration (re-read; this is really my most current book, just started yesterday, and I'll finish it soon. Very, very good)
Sybil Bedford, Quicksands: a memoir (this is good, but I keep feeling I should read all her novels first)
Stephen Brust & Emma Bull, Freedom & Necessity (re-read; fell victim to my moving house and losing track of political in-fighting)
Charles Butler, Four British Fantasists: place and culture in the children's fantasies of Penelope Lively, Alan Garner, Diana Wynne Jones and Susan Cooper (my other immediate current book, started 2 days ago. Very good, but inculcating in me mad desires to read (well, mostly re-read) everything mentioned in it. I am therefore somewhat bitter that the library yesterday had no Alan Garner, a smattering of recent and less good DWJ, no Penelope Lively and only the Boggart Coopers. Also, why did I not know earlier that Susan Cooper started off with adult fiction?)
Joan Clarke, Foxon’s Hole (British time-travel book, okay but fails to grip)
Grace Duggan, The silver road (YA fantasy by Clarion grad, unfortunately unmemorable)
The count of Monte Christo, Alexandre Dumas (I am 478 pages through this and still well under halfway. I think I need a long train trip)
Elizabeth Vincent Foster, Lyrico: the only horse of his kind (children's, moved house)
Maurice Gee, Salt (ridiculously I am 208 pages into a 221 page book that I don't dislike. This is a combination of a lack of narrative urgency, the fact that I know there's a sequel out but don't know if I can be bothered tracking it down, and, deep down, a sneaking preference for re-reading Under the Mountain instead)
Molly Gloss, The dazzle of day (generation ship, possibly with Quakers? I think this either jumps from one character to the next generation or else was just slow enough that I wanted it to. I might have to re-start this one)
Alasdair Gray, Poor Things (aha! One of the best things I've read all year. Misplaced when I moved house, plus I was slowing down to read it because I liked it so much. I am thrilled to have found it again and will save it for a post-assignment reward)
Alasdair Gray, Lanark (this looks bad for Gray, but I made the mistake of trying to read this on a plane trip and it did my head in - very good, but unforgiving. It's now lurking in my car)
Helen Griffiths, The last summer (Spanish Civil war, boy gets abandoned by family. Enjoyable but felt inevitable misery approaching (there's an elderly horse) and put aside to read something more cheerful)
David Mitchell, Number 9 dream (I am about 50 pages from the end and got so involved with the kaiten pilot's diaries that I found the rather irritating main narrator completely insufferable when we went back to him)
Irene Nemirovsky, Suite Francaise (I am admiring this but a) it hasn't gripped me and b) there's an inevitability to the narrative that isn't all that helpful as motivation)
Michael Ondaatje, In the skin of a lion (Huh. Moved house and misfiled this - found it next to Poor Things. I am enjoying it but it feels like (very well-written) set-pieces put together rather than an overall narrative)
Orhan Pamuk, Snow (I have no memory of this at all except for liking the writing)
E Arnot Robertson, Four Frightened People (I stalled ridiculously close to the end and then lent it to at least two other people saying how much I liked it. I should really get over myself)
Pamela Ropner, The Sea Friends (children's, hints of oncoming gloom and crushing social realism)
Matt Ruff, Fool on the hill (um. Just can't get into this - it feels like it's trying too hard. Also, although I loved Set This House in Order and Gas, Sewer, Electric, Bad Monkeys convinced me that Matt Ruff doesn't always write good books)
Geoff Ryman, The king’s last song (I was trying to read this and move countries, and the minor kerfuffle over Pol Pot's Beautiful Daughter also put me off)
Ruth Sawyer, Roller Skates (annoyingly overentitled heroine, plus I shoved this into a box and only just found it again)
Lawrence Wright, The looming tower: Al-Qaeda and the road to 9/11 (once I put this down it was very hard to pick up again, as I've forgotten a lot of the backstory. It's interesting, but either I need to make notes or just push on regardless)
Nonbooks:
There are three manga series I'd count here - 20th century boys, Please save my earth and Lament of the lamb - where the series is complete, I have all the issues and I've read at least three volumes. 20th century boys is brilliant and I need to stop distracting myself and just read it; the other two series have had elements that annoy me temporarily put me off. Also, checking through my browser windows has determined that I am currently reading another 29 pieces of fiction of 40 000 words or more (hard to count this, and three are re-reads; fortunately I have finished the >600 000 word one). I do know I have trouble doing only one thing at once, but possibly I should try harder to keep my pending total in the low range of double figures.
tacithydra's fault. All the books I am currently reading, where "currently" is defined as at least 50 pages through and the book is on site, which enables me to cut out anything I've put down after reading the first chapter as well as the vast unfinished and uncountable hordes lurking in storage, where 90% of my books are (offhand, I feel most guilty about Stephen King's Lisey's Story, where I stalled 3 chapters from the end 2 years ago, John Berger's G, where I stopped in admiration at the amazing flight over the alps sequence 3 years ago and have yet to re-attempt, and Mary Gentle's 1610, which I have started three times, gotten half as far each time (100 pages, 50, 25...) and am now avoiding for fear of being trapped in a fictional version of Zeno's paradox). These are all books where the main thing stopping me reading them is just that I'm not doing it, although other contributing themes identified below include annoyance with main characters, moving house at a crucial point in the narrative (by me, not the characters) or just plain incompetence (again, usually me). These are, therefore, all books I intend to finish, but you know what they say about good intentions.Books:
Harold Avery, Day Boy Colours (not terribly good boys' school story by not terribly good boys' school story author. I should have restrained myself and looked for something by Mowbray or Talbot Baines Reed)
Pat Barker, Regeneration (re-read; this is really my most current book, just started yesterday, and I'll finish it soon. Very, very good)
Sybil Bedford, Quicksands: a memoir (this is good, but I keep feeling I should read all her novels first)
Stephen Brust & Emma Bull, Freedom & Necessity (re-read; fell victim to my moving house and losing track of political in-fighting)
Charles Butler, Four British Fantasists: place and culture in the children's fantasies of Penelope Lively, Alan Garner, Diana Wynne Jones and Susan Cooper (my other immediate current book, started 2 days ago. Very good, but inculcating in me mad desires to read (well, mostly re-read) everything mentioned in it. I am therefore somewhat bitter that the library yesterday had no Alan Garner, a smattering of recent and less good DWJ, no Penelope Lively and only the Boggart Coopers. Also, why did I not know earlier that Susan Cooper started off with adult fiction?)
Joan Clarke, Foxon’s Hole (British time-travel book, okay but fails to grip)
Grace Duggan, The silver road (YA fantasy by Clarion grad, unfortunately unmemorable)
The count of Monte Christo, Alexandre Dumas (I am 478 pages through this and still well under halfway. I think I need a long train trip)
Elizabeth Vincent Foster, Lyrico: the only horse of his kind (children's, moved house)
Maurice Gee, Salt (ridiculously I am 208 pages into a 221 page book that I don't dislike. This is a combination of a lack of narrative urgency, the fact that I know there's a sequel out but don't know if I can be bothered tracking it down, and, deep down, a sneaking preference for re-reading Under the Mountain instead)
Molly Gloss, The dazzle of day (generation ship, possibly with Quakers? I think this either jumps from one character to the next generation or else was just slow enough that I wanted it to. I might have to re-start this one)
Alasdair Gray, Poor Things (aha! One of the best things I've read all year. Misplaced when I moved house, plus I was slowing down to read it because I liked it so much. I am thrilled to have found it again and will save it for a post-assignment reward)
Alasdair Gray, Lanark (this looks bad for Gray, but I made the mistake of trying to read this on a plane trip and it did my head in - very good, but unforgiving. It's now lurking in my car)
Helen Griffiths, The last summer (Spanish Civil war, boy gets abandoned by family. Enjoyable but felt inevitable misery approaching (there's an elderly horse) and put aside to read something more cheerful)
David Mitchell, Number 9 dream (I am about 50 pages from the end and got so involved with the kaiten pilot's diaries that I found the rather irritating main narrator completely insufferable when we went back to him)
Irene Nemirovsky, Suite Francaise (I am admiring this but a) it hasn't gripped me and b) there's an inevitability to the narrative that isn't all that helpful as motivation)
Michael Ondaatje, In the skin of a lion (Huh. Moved house and misfiled this - found it next to Poor Things. I am enjoying it but it feels like (very well-written) set-pieces put together rather than an overall narrative)
Orhan Pamuk, Snow (I have no memory of this at all except for liking the writing)
E Arnot Robertson, Four Frightened People (I stalled ridiculously close to the end and then lent it to at least two other people saying how much I liked it. I should really get over myself)
Pamela Ropner, The Sea Friends (children's, hints of oncoming gloom and crushing social realism)
Matt Ruff, Fool on the hill (um. Just can't get into this - it feels like it's trying too hard. Also, although I loved Set This House in Order and Gas, Sewer, Electric, Bad Monkeys convinced me that Matt Ruff doesn't always write good books)
Geoff Ryman, The king’s last song (I was trying to read this and move countries, and the minor kerfuffle over Pol Pot's Beautiful Daughter also put me off)
Ruth Sawyer, Roller Skates (annoyingly overentitled heroine, plus I shoved this into a box and only just found it again)
Lawrence Wright, The looming tower: Al-Qaeda and the road to 9/11 (once I put this down it was very hard to pick up again, as I've forgotten a lot of the backstory. It's interesting, but either I need to make notes or just push on regardless)
Nonbooks:
There are three manga series I'd count here - 20th century boys, Please save my earth and Lament of the lamb - where the series is complete, I have all the issues and I've read at least three volumes. 20th century boys is brilliant and I need to stop distracting myself and just read it; the other two series have had elements that annoy me temporarily put me off. Also, checking through my browser windows has determined that I am currently reading another 29 pieces of fiction of 40 000 words or more (hard to count this, and three are re-reads; fortunately I have finished the >600 000 word one). I do know I have trouble doing only one thing at once, but possibly I should try harder to keep my pending total in the low range of double figures.
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no subject
Date: 2008-09-10 02:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-10 09:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-19 12:13 am (UTC)And, from the depths, from the great below, there cometh a site! A site so appropriate for this task, so perfect in its proportions, so beauticious in its layout that it calls to this list of books, caaaaaaaaaaaaaaalls to it...
Ooooooooooo... (http://www.goodreads.com/)