Longing

Blog

There is beauty in the longing.

It is the longing that will kill you.

Hello, Universe

Book Notes

This is a cute book.

It showed up on a number of recommended books lists, mostly in young adult fiction. After reading Love in the Time of Cholera, I wanted a quick read, and this one was (read it in one sitting). It was also fun.

Instead of the usual trope of "boy meets girl," we have the premise of "boy wants to meet girl, is too shy to do so," which Kelly writes delightfully well. While there are moments of bullying in the book (and, yes, the scenes frustrated me, as all power abuse situations annoy me), and the ending is a bit tidy, the book is a children's book, so we can both forgive and appreciate these quirks.

The book won the 2018 Newbery Medal (perhaps another reason I added it to the reading pile), so clearly I am far far far from the only one who enjoyed this book and recommend it.

“How come so many of your stories have boys getting eaten by stuff, like rocks or crocodiles?”

“Not all of them are about boys getting eaten. Sometimes it’s girls.”
Page 7

I only pray at night, because it’s my least favorite time of day. Everything is still and dark, and I have too much time to think.
Page 10

“Do you believe in fate?” Lola sat back.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Certainly I do.”

“So you believe things happen for a reason?”

“Ay sus. Don’t talk with your mouth full. And yes, I do. I think good things happen for a reason. And bad things, too.”

Virgil swallowed. “Why do you always bring up the bad things?”

“If you didn’t have bad things, you wouldn’t have good things. They would all just be things. Did you ever think about that?”
Page 83

Gen sat down with her legs stretched in front of her and grabbed her toes. She’d always been a wiggly girl.
Page 165

Love in the Time of Cholera

Book Notes

This book has been on my reading list for a while now. I thought it was older than it is, having been published in 1985, in English in 1988. When I think about it, I am not surprised this book is in my awareness, as it was popular when I was working in bookstores. 100 Years of Solitude is also on my list, also by Gabriel García Márquez, which goes to show you that, like The Beautiful and Damned, I keep reading the other book, instead of the one actually on my reading list.

Anyway.

This book is a love story. Sorta. It's also a book about growing old.

It is a love story that tells you that love sucks when it is an intense longing that lasts. It is a love story that tells you that love is beautiful and enduring when it is a reciprocated one that lasts. It is a love story that considers love as a disease, something to endure and recover from. So many different ways to view love.

The book was a slow read for me, which means either I was deeply invested into the characters, or the book had a lot of words (or both). Translators affect how readable a book is (the translation for Inkheart, for example, spoils the beauty of the book), which is why I'm unsure if the translation affected my reading speed also.

What I liked most about the book, however, was the flawed characters. Fiction books are made up, and in that making up, authors can create lovable if flawed characters who still Do Something Impressive™. In this book, we have Fermina Daza, the woman who fell in love with the idea of Florentino Ariza, but realizes said love is actually a fantasy. So, yes, wow, the recognition of love as a passion that often has no basis in reality, go Fermina.

Yet, okay, Fermina is quick to anger, blames others even she is at fault, and is written as a mercurial person. Her husband, Juvenal Urbino, recognizes all of this and balances his world, changes his reactions, to accomodate her personality. Isn't this what we do for our loved ones? How long relationships last when we find the person whose quirks we can live with, accept the other person as who they are, and adapt without losing ourselves.

Or maybe more of our stories are fiction than we realize.

I enjoyed the book. It's a classic, so "of course" it's worth reading, if only for the beautiful imagery. I'd hand it to a friend who is asking for a slow, languid love story to read over the course of a couple weeks. Or for a literature course where you need 18 different interpretations to discuss to make the class interesting.

Mom Visits, We Both Go Visiting

Blog

Mom came out to Los Angeles today. Together, we went down south to visit Helen. She's looking great, smiled a lot, and was surprisingly active. It was nice to spend the day with my mom, it was nice to see Helen. The downside to the day was all the driving we had to do. Mom flew into Burbank, which is the closest airport to where I'm staying, and we drove down to Orange County. The drive was over an hour each way, but, hey, captive audience! We tooled around Orange, then drove back through traffic, spent some time in a Starbucks, walked around a bit, bought some paper things (of course!), returned the rented car, and talked a lot.

Spending time with Mom is soul-soothing. Bonus: my driving didn't make her throw up.

This Hike, With Feeling!

Blog

Despite yesterday's hiking disaster, or maybe because of it, I still wanted to hike in the open space, forest, park at the top of the hill from where we are staying. Instead of walking up to the entrance, Jonathan offered to drive, so off we went to the top of the hill. Parking was plentiful and shady, so we felt good about this hike. So much so that, well, we foolishly went without water.

Why was that foolish when we were hiking / walking / meandering in an urban park? I mean, how lost / dehydrated / in trouble could one get when one is never alone?

Turns out, lost not so much, dehydrated most definitely.

The path we took turned out to be not the one I was actually interested in hiking, but exactly the one that Jonathan expected to hike. That sentence sums up pretty much most of the activities we do, actually. Actually. Actually. Actually appears to be the word I'm going to overuse in this post.

The trail dumped us in an expensive residential neighborhood with many signs telling us to walk along the side of the road, and stay on the sidewalk, and fines will happen if we walk in the middle of the street. Given the zero cars that passed us, I can only assume the giant asphalt walkway was reserved for said homes' owners, and not the peons who walked the public space they lived adjacent to.

Our trail and road progress was steadily down. While down can be great, if you're doing a loop, every step down is eventually followed by a step up, and that's exactly what we had on the way back. Up.

Up and up and up. And just for good measure, a bonus up at the end, so that we could go down to the start of the trail.

I thought the hike was great. It was hot. We REALLY should have brought water. We should have looked at the map longer before starting. We shoulda woulda coulda. The hike was 90 minutes of movement in the hills and through a lovely, if pompous, neighborhood.

The difficult part of the hike was at the end when we were on a very sunny, very exposed trail. It was then that I realized the trail was exposed because all of the oak trees on this side of the canyon were dead. Not only the oaks, but all of the trees. Looking around, the entire canyon was decimated on the one side, with the residential side, the opposite side, still green and lush.

Drought? Insect infestation? Fungal? Human action? I don't know the cause of the localized devastation, except that it wasn't fire. It was still somewhat heartbreaking to see. Seems many parts of the hills around this area are like this, though.

So, yay for movement, boo for dying woods. This canyon would be lovely if alive.

Pages