books / lazy Saturday / a question

[kcobweb]

Searching for Mercy Street: My Journey Back to my Mother, Anne Sexton, by Linda Gray Sexton. I've always liked Anne Sexton's poetry, but didn't know much about her life except that she killed herself. This book leaves no holds barred, and was one of the most disturbing books I've read in a long time, I think (I don't disturb easily). Anne was depressed, of course, but she also had absolutely *no boundaries* and had to be the center of everyone's attention - fine for her, but she obviously was incapable of thinking about the effect that had on her children. It's amazing they turned out as well as they did. Linda Sexton talks a lot about how her mother was one of the confessional poets and believed in 100% honesty in all things. As her mother's literary executor (and in this memoir), she felt she had to honor that honesty and openness, even when she didn't want to, when it was painful, or when it hurt other family members. So you get a fairly complete picture here - drawing not only on Linda's memories, but also on the papers and records Anne left behind (including records from her therapists). Really powerful and moving, to be sure.

The Boy Next Door, by Meggin Cabot. This was journeywoman's suggestion when I said I liked chicklit. And it was pretty good: light and fluffy. It's all epistolary - but via email, because this is the 21st century, right? - but better done than most books that employ the told-through-email trope. There is a somewhat silly/contrived set-up situation, but with clever likeable characters, and a really good revenge scenario.

In other news - what a lovely day! We went to the playground this morning to play with Elena's friends - she went on the big-kid swings, and then wouldn't get off because swinging was so fun. (And we got to see a 10-day-old baby that belongs to a friend of a friend. So *tiny* - it's just amazing! Even when you've had one of your own, you can't believe later they were ever that small.) This afternoon, I finally got to visit the local quilt store, which was very nice, with many many temptations. I'm going to be doing a quilt block swap soon, so this was sort of a scouting mission.

We've also had the news that our house does not need to be re-sided after all - someone came and looked and said that our siding is cedar and would be insanely expensive now and is some of the best we could have, so it just needs scraping and painting. Woohoo!!! (We got a good chunk of money knocked off the purchase price of this house based on the condition of the outside of it and the assumption - at the time - that it would need complete re-siding.) So now I have to call some painters instead. Because we'd be crazy to try to do it ourselves, right? Or not? Anyone have much experience with house-painting? I only know from watching my father paint our house growing up, and he always bitched about it, and took several years to actually get it finished.

Comments

[kcobweb.livejournal.com]

Here's a good article (http://www.salon.com/mwt/feature/2007/06/27/jane_austen/) on the recent spate of Austen-related knockoffs and movies and whatnot - about what attracts some people to her work. (Note: I'm one of the people who is there for the sarcasm, not the fluffy romance stories.) Two of the blogs I regularly read (one Austen, one political) linked here this week.