Hi.  Sorry not to have posted for so long, but I just haven't really felt like saying anything.  Plus I'm hooked now on Goodreads.

In keeping with my fascination with the artistic temperament, I read two books that were just splendid.  Guests on Earth by Lee Smith is a tender book about a young lady who grows up in a mental health treatment center in North Carolina, whose life intercedes with another patient, Zelda Fitzgerald.  This is, of course, based in reality, though it is beautifully crafted fiction.  The narrator, Evalina, is perhaps the sweetest psych patient that is actually a gifted musician.  The title of the book comes from a quote by F. Scott about mental patients being, "guests on earth."  Funny, I know the feeling.

The other book that I super incredibly enjoyed was I Always Loved You by Robin Olivera, or maybe  Oliviera, I can't remember exactly, my bad.  This chronicled the love between Mary Cassatt and Edgar Degas, which was wrought in a love for painting and mutual respect, though tempered by the romantic social constraints of the time.  It was a delight to read because of my new love for the French Impressionists, and because Mary Cassatt is so amazing, especially for her time.

OK so I left this as a draft for a long time, but I've been reading, and here's an update of a similar theme.  Just finished Luncheon of the Boating Party by Susan Vreeland, which also chronicled the lifestyle of a French Impressionist, Auguste Renoir.  This was a splendid, though at times ponderous read, that took me forever to finish, but had a very satisfying ending and inspired me to paint, for the love of it.  That's my take-away from the Impressionists, paint because you love it.  Degas, in fact told Cassatt, that she "paints love," and that was her strength.

These books made me so glad to be alive, despite difficulty, and have encouraged me to make art.  Granted, I'm still slow as molasses, but now the element of love is a part of my book selection and reading, and now as well of my painting.  I'll keep you posted on my next endeavors, though I think that my current book, The Goldfinch, by Donna Tartt, might take me a little while to finish. 

Oh well, I love it. :)

Freud's Mistress, by Karen Mack and Donna Kaufman, was a very much fun read, especially if one is a psychology fan.  Read this recently, though am now taking a nonfiction break. 

Have been realizing that I should totally check the publication date on stuff, though also realizing that sometimes this doesn't matter so much.  Can you trust anything in this world at any given time, any way?  I wish that I were not so suspicious of everything, but at the same time, am glad to be so.

Our Posthuman Future: Consequences of the Biotechnology Revolution by Francis Fukuyama, is the nonfiction dating from 2002 that I'm reading currently.  I grabbed it from the book return box, so was not actually led to the work from any personal intellectual pursuit.  Really, I just love thinking of the future.  I hope it all turns out okay.

My foray into the infidelity of the late nineteenth century has made my nonfiction find even more exciting and thought provoking.  I hope that the future will be tolerable and that there will continue to be great books to read. I still don't agree that men should keep mistresses, though, even if it does make for a fun read on a lazy weekend.

Sorry not to have updated in so long.  My extra time has been taken up by reading!  I read two books recently, that brought attention to passing time and to changing romance morality.

Night and Day, by Virginia Woolf, was a delight to read, especially with a fondness for the time from which the novel dates.  There were several characters involved in a very, very long and drawn out pursuit of marriage.  This was charming to read, though somewhat agonizing from the perspective of this day and age.  Actually Woolf's presentation of the inward and external turmoils of love did not really deviate from any modern agony, because that is the nature of love, you know.

The other book that I read was a more contemporary novel, On Beauty, by Zadie Smith.  In this novel there is a more established love relationship, and a long lasting marriage is described.  While there is not so much anxiety concerning who will marry, the morality of maintaining a marriage is explored in an agonizing episode of inward and external turmoil. 

While I did enjoy both books for different reasons, I must say that it was refreshing to consider the uprightness of Woolf's characters, especially when contrasted with the events of the modern day romance.  The question of what exactly is love, of course, is an enduring human struggle, for which all of the characters were beautifully described by both authors. Because those presented with the problem of love were so tenderly portrayed in both novels, I have to say that I fell in love a little bit with both books, even if it was strange to read these two particular novels in immediate succession, because of the changing social mores of the times.

One particularly naughty bit in Smith's novel almost made me decide that I did not enjoy the book, but because I was already so drawn into those particularly dear characters, I decided to forgive the novel.  I also forgave Woolf for making me feel as anxious for her characters as she did.  In both instances, I felt as if they had just asked my mother what to do, she would have set them straight. :)

Sorry not to have posted recently, I've been so busy reading.  Was entirely caught up in MaddAddam by Margaret Atwood, which so excellently concludes her brilliant trilogy begun with Oryx and Crake and continued in The Year of the Flood.  I think that everyone should read these books, especially my brother and his wife. :)  I have a brilliant older lady crush on Margaret Atwood now, and am soon to read Surfacing because I just can't get enough.

I've also picked up On Beauty, by Zadie Smith, that I'm reading at lunch break.  This I'm enjoying, and am finding to be quite interesting with its memorable characters and pleasing settings.  It helps that my brother's wife approves, since she is my literary hero.  It's so funny that I had been thinking of the book, and she mentioned that she had liked it, so I started reading it and have been enjoying.  I especially like the overlap of the settings of London and New England.

However, the most exciting thing that I'm reading right now is Night and Day, by Virginia Woolf.  It is of just enough age as to be written with such lovely care, so that I am ever so slowly and delightfully enjoying it.  It's kind of a relief to be certain of women's suffrage while reading it, and this makes the future seem much less bleak with all of its troubles that Atwood so tenderly observes in her books.  At least I know that women do get the vote while reading Woolf, which gives me hope for the healing of social issues.

What has made all of these books so nice is the promise of love, that always improves everything.  Maybe this is the enduring quality of human writers, after all.  Love and hope.  Yeah, so I hope that there won't be any unseemly endings to the novels I have not yet finished, but I think I'll be okay because all of these books are so beautifully written, and maybe that's the thrill of the journey.  And that ever present cup of tea!

Finished The Woman Upstairs by Claire Messud.  I did enjoy it, but see how it might just address the particular audience of childless women who like to make art, particularly if the artistic output is frustrated by living life, or not living life as had been hoped.  The relationships described in the story could be a little creepy, but not half as bad as much current literature or celebrity news.  Might try the author again, but

Just finished yesterday, The Woman Upstairs by Claire Messud.  I did enjoy it, though probably this book appeals only to a particular audience, that of the childless female not-working-as-an-artist type.  At least there wasn't some awful killing at the end, or such madness.

Now I'm possibly reading Virginia Woolf, Night and Day, if I do get a chance.  Have been enjoying the sentence construction, though have not gotten very far yet.  My return to reading has been populated with more contemporary stuff, so I'm not used to the lovely writing as much.  I think I will start reading older stuff for while.

In any case, Messud's book did make me recognize and realize that I ought to at least try making some art.  I'm so lazy, though, and overcome with housecleaning.  Actually, I have faith that I'll make at least one Christmas present.  It's only October!

Just finished Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood.  I can't stop thinking about it.  It is so unnerving because of its speculative future society, because in many ways it is like existing life on earth.  We've got to be so careful about this world!

Previously I had read The Year of the Flood, out of sequence, and unfortunately it was long enough ago that my memory fails me a little.  Nonetheless, I cannot wait to read MaddAddam, which concludes the trilogy.  I'm thinking that the Internet can help me to fill in any gaps.  It was nice that one could read The Year of the Flood withut having read the first book and still follow the amazingly well-developed story.  The events of the two novels occur concurrently, which makes for an interesting experience traveling in the unfortunate world that Atwood describes.

In any case, reading these dystopian novels makes me want to clean up my act, recycle, go to church, and be good and kind.  Really, I want the world to be a good place, so I aim to do my part.  Fortunately there is the medium of speculative fiction, as we all need to heed these cautionary tales, and thankfully there is Margaret Atwood to visualize where we might be going if we don't shape up.

Please shape up!