Greetings, fellow readers! This week has been a somewhat difficult one for me personally--I have come down with some horrible sore throat disease of death--but wonderful in terms of my Shelf Life. Let me explain . . .
Today I returned to the Friends of the Library sale for their ten cent day, an event which I had the pleasure of experiencing for the first time with my friend Tia, a fellow student and Quidditch player here at UF. Between the two of us, we ended up buying 48 books! (In case you're reading this, Mom, don't worry--they're small, and I promise to donate more of mine to the Book Crossing bag so I don't hog all the space.) The selection today was much worse than it was on Saturday; it was rather like picking through the leftovers of a town that had already been plundered and pillaged. I ended up with some ridiculous fantasy paperbacks with titles like The Prince of Whales and I Heard the Owl Call My Name to match my Silly Sci-Fi Stack--I'm sensing a mini-collection here--and a few classic lit paperbacks that hadn't been snatched up by students looking for cheap textbooks. Tia also found me a pocket-sized volume called A Little Coffee Cookbook, which promises to teach me how to make such treats as coffee and ginger souffle and coffee banana bread. This could be lethal . . .
By this time, my throat had reached the Point of Unendurable Agony, so I crawled into bed for a few hours' sleep before . . .
Going to hear Max Brooks, author of World War Z and The Zombie Survival Guide, speak at the student union!
I went with my boyfriend, Jacob, and friends Haley and Lexi. We're all big fans of the books, and Haley and I both play Humans vs. Zombies on campus, which is more like glorified tag than surviving the apocalypse, but still. Mr. Brooks gave a talk and then answered questions from the audience. I asked him what his zombie melee weapon of choice is, and he said a crowbar. He went on to explain that weapon choice is also a question of environment: he's from Los Angeles, and therefore has crowbars in case of earthquakes, as well as zombie outbreaks, though he said since I'm from Jacksonville, I might prefer a machete. He signed my copies of his books and was gracious enough to pose for a picture, which I will post as soon as I get it uploaded.
Now that my bookish adventures are complete, I'm off to bed with some hot tea and a new novel. If I'm going to be sick, I'm at least going to be well-read as I cough to death!
Until next time,
Anna
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Book Sales and Bagpipes
Greetings, fellow readers! There are few things in life that will get me out of bed at five o'clock on a Saturday morning--I am a college student, after all--but the semi-annual Friends of the Library book sale in Gainesville is one of them. This was my third time going to the book sale, but my first time camping out in line to get in. I went with my friends Alex and Ashlyn, and we began by fortifying ourselves with Dunkin' Donuts coffee and breakfast sandwiches. We left campus at 5:30 AM and got to the book sale an hour before sunrise. As we waited for the doors to open, we chatted and shivered under a nest of blankets and quilts.
By 8:30, a sizable queue snaked along the driveway and around the block. We stretched our muscles, stiff from sitting on the cold ground, and started planning which tables to visit first once we got inside.
Finally, the doors opened, and we rushed into the building to the tune of "Scotland the Brave," courtesy of a local bagpiper. I went straight to the science fiction section, then looped around to literature and topped off my stack with a Spanish edition of Shakespeare's sonnets (yes, I can read Spanish, for those of you pondering the utility of such a book.)
I think this stack will make a nice addition to my ever-growing library, which is now nearing 700 volumes. And now, dear readers, if you'll excuse me, the rest of my Saturday is booked: I have a lot of reading to do!
Until next time,
Anna
P.S. If you haven't been to the book sale and want to go, don't despair! It's going on through Wednesday, and there's a ten cent day where all books go for a dime. I highly recommend you take a trip downtown, if you can; this fall's selection is really good.
By 8:30, a sizable queue snaked along the driveway and around the block. We stretched our muscles, stiff from sitting on the cold ground, and started planning which tables to visit first once we got inside.
Finally, the doors opened, and we rushed into the building to the tune of "Scotland the Brave," courtesy of a local bagpiper. I went straight to the science fiction section, then looped around to literature and topped off my stack with a Spanish edition of Shakespeare's sonnets (yes, I can read Spanish, for those of you pondering the utility of such a book.)
Until next time,
Anna
P.S. If you haven't been to the book sale and want to go, don't despair! It's going on through Wednesday, and there's a ten cent day where all books go for a dime. I highly recommend you take a trip downtown, if you can; this fall's selection is really good.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Comfort Books
Greetings, fellow readers! Today is just one of those days when the universe decides to make life difficult. I got caught in the sprinklers (twice), my shoes rubbed bloody blisters onto the backs of my heels, and I didn't get home until ten o'clock tonight. Everybody else is suffering the post-midterm blues and the attendant slough of colds, viruses, and existential crises. At this point, I'm not sure if I'm riding the Struggle Bus or falling off the back!
The Struggle Bus
So, like any self-respecting book lover, I decided to park myself at Pascal's Coffeehouse for several hours of reading and studying. Alas, I was unable to partake of any of the delicious teas and coffees for sale there because I'm flat broke--at this point in the day, the back wheel had fallen off the Struggle Bus--but my dear friend Jordan was kind enough to share a spinach croissant with me. We got to talking, as we often do, about books.
There are some books that are the literary equivalent of mom's homemade mac-and-cheese or grandma's famous chocolate chip cookies--you know what I'm talking about. I call them comfort books, and if ever there was a day for comfort books, it is today. For Jordan, these books are the works of Jane Austen. For my roommate, Allison, these are the Harry Potter series. For me . . . well, I tend to read books that are ponderous and depressing (I am taking two Holocaust classes this fall and a Kafka seminar in the spring), but I've had enough of that for a while. And so I implore you, dear readers, recommend me some comfort books! Share your favorites, comment with the books you turn to to get through difficult times. Help a fellow bibliophile off the Struggle Bus and onto the bookmobile. I'm looking forward to seeing what you come up with.
Until next time,
Anna
The Struggle Bus
So, like any self-respecting book lover, I decided to park myself at Pascal's Coffeehouse for several hours of reading and studying. Alas, I was unable to partake of any of the delicious teas and coffees for sale there because I'm flat broke--at this point in the day, the back wheel had fallen off the Struggle Bus--but my dear friend Jordan was kind enough to share a spinach croissant with me. We got to talking, as we often do, about books.
There are some books that are the literary equivalent of mom's homemade mac-and-cheese or grandma's famous chocolate chip cookies--you know what I'm talking about. I call them comfort books, and if ever there was a day for comfort books, it is today. For Jordan, these books are the works of Jane Austen. For my roommate, Allison, these are the Harry Potter series. For me . . . well, I tend to read books that are ponderous and depressing (I am taking two Holocaust classes this fall and a Kafka seminar in the spring), but I've had enough of that for a while. And so I implore you, dear readers, recommend me some comfort books! Share your favorites, comment with the books you turn to to get through difficult times. Help a fellow bibliophile off the Struggle Bus and onto the bookmobile. I'm looking forward to seeing what you come up with.
Until next time,
Anna
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
"Here's my comfort."
Greetings, fellow readers! Today brings us to another new type of reading: script reading for a play. As some of you know, I am involved with UF's Shakespeare in the Park. We are a student run organization that mounts a full outdoor production of a Shakespeare play every spring in UF's Plaza of the Americas. We make all of our own costumes and sets, and we rehearse all year leading up to the performance.
This year, the play is The Tempest, which is interpreted variously as Shakespeare's autumnal work, a commentary on colonialism, and a dreamlike story which takes place only in the main character's mind.
I got cast as Stephano, the drunken butler. At first, I wasn't sure what to make of this part: on the surface, Stephano's just a giddy clown, but after reading over the play again, I found out he's more than that. He's a character who's been shipwrecked, who hides a kind of merry sadness beneath his drunkenness. He constantly turns to his wine bottle and says, "Here's my comfort," after moments of introspection and meditation. He's an entertaining character, but he's pensive, too.
It made me think of other characters in literature, such as Jamei Lannister or Severus Snape, who are often misunderstood by readers and other characters . . . until we discover more about them. They are problematic, complex figures who do not offer us easy answers because they straddle the boundary between good and evil, right and wrong. They are great characters not because they are heroes or villains, but because they are human, and we see ourselves in them. We identify with their struggles, their desire to do good. We suffer with them when they fail because in their failures, we see our own.
As my mom once said, "We can't all be a Gandalf or an Aragorn, but we can be a Boromir." It is the broken and flawed characters who are our portals into the world of the story. They are us, failing when we try our utmost to succeed. Their tragedy is ours, and our story is theirs.
I hope you all will come to the play in March. You'll see me play a drunken butler. I hope you'll laugh, but I also hope you'll think about what you see onstage. To be human is to be flawed, but it is also to strive, to reach beyond who we are now in the hope of brushing a fingertip against the cloak of greatness.
Until next time,
Anna
This year, the play is The Tempest, which is interpreted variously as Shakespeare's autumnal work, a commentary on colonialism, and a dreamlike story which takes place only in the main character's mind.
I got cast as Stephano, the drunken butler. At first, I wasn't sure what to make of this part: on the surface, Stephano's just a giddy clown, but after reading over the play again, I found out he's more than that. He's a character who's been shipwrecked, who hides a kind of merry sadness beneath his drunkenness. He constantly turns to his wine bottle and says, "Here's my comfort," after moments of introspection and meditation. He's an entertaining character, but he's pensive, too.
It made me think of other characters in literature, such as Jamei Lannister or Severus Snape, who are often misunderstood by readers and other characters . . . until we discover more about them. They are problematic, complex figures who do not offer us easy answers because they straddle the boundary between good and evil, right and wrong. They are great characters not because they are heroes or villains, but because they are human, and we see ourselves in them. We identify with their struggles, their desire to do good. We suffer with them when they fail because in their failures, we see our own.
As my mom once said, "We can't all be a Gandalf or an Aragorn, but we can be a Boromir." It is the broken and flawed characters who are our portals into the world of the story. They are us, failing when we try our utmost to succeed. Their tragedy is ours, and our story is theirs.
I hope you all will come to the play in March. You'll see me play a drunken butler. I hope you'll laugh, but I also hope you'll think about what you see onstage. To be human is to be flawed, but it is also to strive, to reach beyond who we are now in the hope of brushing a fingertip against the cloak of greatness.
Until next time,
Anna
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