I put the words “sad, sad” in the title line here, but that was silly. I am not sad at all. I am still very happy, because as you may recall, THE SAINTS WON THE SUPER BOWL, causing me to tear up happily every time Drew Brees opens his mouth (he’s such a sweet dear) or every time I see a picture of all the confetti and rejoicing. And everyone is all “If only my daddy were alive to see this day,” and New Orleans is throwing the biggest party possibly every thrown, like even bigger than that party in “Death in Venice” with the elephants, and somebody predicted on Saturday that Porter would not be able to block Wayne effectively, and (he did though)—
(Dear Crazy Jenny, Hush about the Super Bowl. Kisses, Sane Jenny)
So here are some books that I did not enjoy so far in February.
Clara Callan, Richard B. Wright
When I first read about this book, I discovered within myself a love for epistolary novels that was greater (I thought) than my unlove of novels set during the Great Depression. But do you know, I was completely wrong. I mean if there was ever going to be a Great Depression book that I could manage, it should have been this one. It is epistolary, it focuses on the relationship between two sisters, and one of the sisters becomes, I swear to you, a radio soap opera star in New York. Those are some ingredients that should mix together to create a book that I would love – but they did not.
So I’m swearing off Great Depression books forever, unless you tell me with great conviction that you have a Great Depression book that transcends its Great Depression-ness and manages to be amazing anyway. And not dreary. And it obviously can’t be set in England or it doesn’t count. Any thoughts?
Gray Horses, Hope Larson
I read this for the Graphic Novel Challenge, making it my one, two, third book read for the Graphic Novel Challenge, and the second one about which I was just not that crazy. I wanted to like it because I have read nice things about Hope Larson’s Salamander Dreams, which the library didn’t have but they did have this. Lesley read it and said there wasn’t enough to it, for a book, and I said, I don’t care what you think, I’m reading it anyway. And no, she was totally right. There is not enough to it.
Noemie is a French exchange student trying to find her way in an American city, and she has vivid dreams where she has a horse and helps a kid. Back in real life, she makes a friend, and a dude follows her and takes her picture and leaves the pictures for her to find, which she finds sweet. That is not romantic at all; it is completely creepy. In fact I always felt that the creepiest deed committed by the Big Bad Villain of Season Two of Buffy was when he drew pictures of her sleeping and left them on her pillow. This doesn’t feel so different from that; except that when the Big Bad Villain of Season Two of Buffy behaved in this manner, steps were taken.
I read this for the February mini-challenge, graphic novels with animals in, hosted by (fellow Louisianian & Super Bowl celebrator & I’m really shutting up about this now) Chris at Stuff as Dreams Are Made On. But I am going to read that Darwin book if I can get it, and that will be for the mini-challenge too and hopefully I will enjoy it more.
Tell me if I missed yours!
P.S. Okay, I am a little bit sad. A very little bit sad, though still mostly happy about the Saints. I am a little sad because I found out today that I didn’t get into one of my grad schools. Mostly I am still pleased about the Saints, and I reminded myself of this by watching Porter and Shockey give man hugs, and by watching Drew Brees holding his little son. But a small part of me is a bit sad that I didn’t get into one of my grad schools.