I wish I had a little ship and some wide brimmed hats.
Over the weekend, I finished the short story collection of Francine Prose Women and Children First, and I finished it in no time at all. All I knew of Ms. Prose was The Lives Of The Muses which I read about three years ago at a time of emotionally shakiness and it plum tore my mind apart with inspiration and anger; it is also good to see Lou Andreas-Salome get a fair backstory. Anyhow, the short story collection is solid and after I read the first four or five stories, I started wondering "Why do all these women have gardens, husbands who are around and live in Vermont where they smoke joints and make art?"-- Because the book was written in 1973. That free-spirited woman n' her fam'bly idyll is a noticably strange story line for the recovery-narratives/emotional gross-outs and fall outs of 2006's fiction stee. I think the sixth chapter of The Diviners, where that lady is collecting up 100 hot donuts to barf, officially burnt me on victim lit. I got tired of authors using emotional depravity alone to shock you in caring about characters.
Anyhow again, Francine Prose, s'real good book, and I'd recommend it. It's about to be winter, and you gotta stock up for when you cannot go outside. I know the high is a magical 82 today, I don't mean to spoil it with cold talkin'.
PS. Doesn't reading about the new Woodward book give you a gratifying tingle?Posted by Jessica at October 2, 2006 12:09 PM | TrackBack