Reading an anthology of works by Johann Wolfgang Goethe. When I asked why, he responded with the philosophical, "why not?" though admited there was a real reason--his friends have read Goethe in the original German and he thought he'd take a crack at it, too, in English, though. Among the stories in the anthology is Faust and he is reading Marlowe's Faust in tandem so he can make comparisons.
His favorite book of all time is Ulysees, by James Joyce. A big Joyce fan, the tattoo on his left wrist is the thesis of Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man--Steven Dedalus, Joyce's "me" character, comes to the conclusion that his writing must take presedence over serving his nation, family and religion.
10/19/2006
12/19/2006
Reading Last Man Standing, by one of her favorite authors, David Baldacci. She enjoys reading courtroom dramas, mysteries, and family sagas on her commute home to unwind after a day doing estate planning; though, she says, she loves her clients--they are always happy and relaxed after making a decision to come and see her. She's been an attorney for over 43 years and she declares that she still learns something new every day.
Because she reads all the time not only does she have this nifty book-keeper (she's gone through several since her sister gave her her first one years ago. She gave me her CPA's contact info so I can get ordering info on it, which I'll post),
but she keeps an alphabetized list of the books so that she doesn't accidently buy the same book twice!
Her favorite book is The Outlander, by Diana Gabaldon. She said if she'd known what the book was about before she picked it up, she wouldn't have read it and, later, was shocked to find it in the romance section at Stacy's bookstore. It's a story about a woman who travels back in time two hundred years and what makes it so good is the hero, a chivalrous Scottsman, and the historical aspects of the story. (Another fan of The Outlander is the reader in the 10/1 entry.)
Sorry your face is washed out--it's the flash on my camera!
11/11/2006
This afternoon I met an ambulatory bookseller on Valencia street. 
He was having problems parting with his favorites. While we were talking he snuck Melville's The Confidence Man out of his cart and into his bag. 
He had managed to part with some stuff, though. Before I met him he said he'd sold a volume of three stories by Richard Brautigan.
He and his friend tried to describe Brautigan's writing to me--"It's really unique," they told me and then admitted that didn't mean much. "He has a sly sense of humor. He loved hamburgers and they keep on coming up in his writing." They tried again. "The opening of one of his books is about a guy who opens a library where anyone can bring books they've written, like a kindergartner who wrote one in crayon or an old lady who writes about growing flowers by candle light. He has these increddible inventive metaphors like," and they stalled, trying to think of something that would do the author justice. Here's one, though not entirely representative of the author's quality: "I loved her cash registers full, but she loved me a penny."
He dug through the cart and recommended a book for me --Dubliners, by James Joyce. "I think you'll like it," he said. "It's what turned me on to Joyce." I told him about my 10/19 blog posting--the Joyce fan who had tattooed on his left wrist is the thesis of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man--non serviam.
Right now he's reading A Thousand and One Nights.
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