The only vacationy thing I’ve done on my staycation is this pleasure read. The third in the Mercedes Thompson series has Mercy doing more brave, rash things and getting herself into and out of some bad situations, with a little help from her wolfy friends. As in Sookie Stackhouse’s world, the fae are kind of dicks.
If you’re wondering what in the world prompted me to read this book, it’s because I have a newly single friend who hasn’t dated in a really long time and who can be a little...impulsive, and I wanted to get her to read it with me. I actually don’t have a huge problem with the book or its premise. If what you want is to get married, then this book might really help. Is it the height of feminist (not to mention queer or polyamorous) enlightenment to put so much importance on getting hitched? Not necessarily, but I do understand the desire to have a partner and be in a committed relationship. I’ll freely admit that that desire is strong in me.
As soon as I finish this post I'm going to submit a new terminology suggestion to the fine folks at the Library of Congress.
I recommend adding terminology: Print culture.
Photo by Jennifer Chong
This is such a Rivington Street readalike that it’s hard not to compare the two. Both begin in Russia around the turn of the 20th century and move to the Lower East Side after a pogrom. Both are about young Jewish female union workers and both have lesbian characters, and both depict the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire.
“You sound like a capitalist, all excited about machinery,” I said. “Aren’t you afraid that [linotype] will put printers out of work?”
“I was, but now I understand that the more books and pamphlets there are, the more men will read.” He dropped his voice. “And with this machine, we can make up our own pamphlets when the boss is out and melt the evidence before he comes back.” He leaned back in the sunlight, very pleased with himself.
The Williamsburg Bridge was its own sin. Its construction, Lena told me, made hundreds of people homeless when their buildings were torn down. A little like pogrom of progress, burning anything in its path, making Jews take to the roads with everything they owned on their backs, or move in with their relatives and landslayt, crowding more than we were ever crowded in Kishinev.
I got an unexpected response to a barnlib tweet about marriage equality, where I was a tad defensive about how joyful the newlyweds seem to me when so many of my queer friends think same-sex marriage not a worthwhile fight.
My latest suggestion to the L of C, via their suggest terminology doohickey:
I recommend changing the terminology for http://id.loc.gov/authorities/sh85110842#concept from "Ragpickers" to...
Photo by October Hush
Sookie has long since lost her innocence, but in each book of the Southern Vampire Mysteries, she becomes more resigned and sometimes in harmony with the the motivations and mores of the supernatural company she keeps. Vamps are hot, but they’re also a little...bloodthirsty, not to mention unfeeling. Sookie is neither of those things, but she’s getting more accustomed to vamp justice.
I tried to read this at ALA and then on zine tour, but my concentrate sucked, and I gave up. I’d pick it up again, but honestly, while the book is full of colorful quotations, it’s chaotic and hard to read. I’ve got enough chaos in my life right now, so I’m not going to force my way through. I do want to share the awesome quotations, though...
I’ve read this book a bunch of times, the first of which was when I was 9. I needed a book to read and asked my dad for a suggestion. Vonnegut is what he gave me. I reread BoC in order to write about the experience of reading it at such a young age for Celia’s comp zine Atlas of Childhood about children’s books.
"Every time you went into the library," said the book, "the Creator of the Universe held His breath. With such a higgeldy-piggeldy cultural smorgasbord before you, what would you, with your free will, choose?" p. 263
I read Katie's galley in order to blurb it. I'm not supposed to review it yet, but here's the blurb:
"As someone who hates to spend time or money acquiring stuff, I am the last person you would expect to love a book about shopping. But this rummage sale-focused book is interesting even to an unenthusiastic consumer because Katie's expression of her inner life while she finds her treasures is highly compelling. She shares her joy over finding weird textbooks to repurpose into stationery, knickknacks with the previous owners' history attached (or imagined), and vintage clothing whose worth can be ferreted out only by artisan shoppers such as herself. In the process she reveals just enough about herself to make you fall in love with her."
