Do These Books Make my Butt Look Big?

My New Years Resolution to read less guilty pleasures and more "serious" literature has been going pretty well. That promise, however, has led me to more and more book blog websites and challenges. I've already committed to the Dream King challenge and now I've found another that I find intriguing: The Chunkster Challenge. For this challenge, I am promising to read a certain number of chunksters which are books over 450 pages in length in the genre of adult literature, as in not romance/YAL/Harry Potter/Twilight/etc not as in porn..... There are three levels of interest and I've chosen the middle ground:

*Do These Books Make my Butt Look Big? = 3-5 Chunksters before November 15.

To keep myself honest, I'm going to list books which meet the requirements and then read my 3-5 from that list.

Possibilities

Sophie's World
The Pillars of the Earth
Cryptonomicon
Anathem
Gravity's Rainbow
American Gods
Anna Karenina
Les Miserables
Don Quijote
The Three Musketeers
War and Peace

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Challenge Completed: August 28, 2009
Books Read: The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas, My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult, American Gods by Neil Gaiman, and The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco

Dream King Challenge

The Dream King Challenge blog asks readers to explore the world of Neil Gaiman. Participants can shoot for one of four levels:

Neophyte: Read one work and watch one movie
Acolyte: Read three works and watch one movie
Devotee: Read six works and watch one movie
Zealot: Read twelve works and watch one movie

I refuse to limit myself and am upping the ante. I'm going for level 5 - Extremist which means I am going to read 12 works by Neil Gaiman this year and watch 4 films. Yeah, all I did was add on three extra movies, but what can I say!?!? The following are (incomplete) lists of Gaiman books and related films. As I read them, I'll add the books to my 2009 book list.

Books
American Gods
Anansi Boys
Coraline
Don't Panic
Art and Artifice
Beowulf
Fragile Things
Good Omens
Interworld
Neverwhere
Smoke and Mirrors
Stardust
The Day I Swapped My Dad for Two Goldfish
Mirrormask

Sandman Comic Series
Preludes and Nocturnes
The Doll's House
Dream Country
Seasons of Mists
A Game of You
Fables and Reflections
Brief Lives
World's End
The Kindly Ones
The Wake

Movies
Beowulf
Coraline
Neverwhere
Stardust
A Short Film about John Bolton
Mirrormask

Okay, now who wants to join me? :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Challenge Completed: 11/2009
Books Read:
Short Stories: Cinnamon, I Cthulhu, and How to Talk to Girls at Parties
Young Adult Lit:  Interworld, The Graveyard Book, Coraline,
Adult Lit:  Anansi Boys, Good Omens, American Gods,
Graphic Novels:  Preludes and Nocturnes, Dream Country, Neverwhere,
Movies: Stardust, Coraline, Beowulf

Recommendations Please

I have decided to teach my Introduction to Literature class using actual novels and plays rather than an anthology. This, of course, opens up the entire history of writing, and I can not help but want to teach everything. Unfortunately, I'm thinking five books is the limit. Here's my list of possibilities so far, but I would love it if you guys could help me out by suggesting some books (non-fiction, fiction, drama) and commenting on those I've already included. I've only included author's names when I thought there might be confusion.

NOVELS
The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins
Divine Comedy
For Whom the Bell Tolls
Gulliver's Travels
Dracula
Lolita
Brave New World
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
Slaughterhouse-Five
HitchHiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Good Omens
Sandman by Neil Gaiman

SHORT STORIES
Nocturnes by John Connolly
In a Glass Darkly

NON-FICTION
Night by Elie Wiesel
Blues for Cannibals
Naked by David Sedaris
Stiff by Mary Roach

DRAMA
Pygmalion
The Glass Menagerie
No Exit by Sartre
Six Characters in Search of an Author

YOUNG ADULT LITERATURE
His Dark Materials by Phillip Pullman
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

GRAPHIC NOVELS
Watchmen
Dark Knight
Maus

Additions to the Previous Post

I just began working on a lesson plan for Fight Club and as I watched and thought about the film, I couldn't help but think that it fits in quite nicely with Postman and Huxley (previous post). The anti-consumerism present in the film as well as the struggle with individual identity in a homogeneous society just screams Brave New World. Tyler Durden, a main character, says "You do the job you’re trained to do. Pull a lever. Push a button. You don’t understand any of it, and then you just die" and that phrase almost perfectly echoes the civilized characters in Brave New World.

....I'm still thinking on this so more later...

Book Review: An Amusing World

Title: Amusing Ourselves to Death
Author: Neil Postman
Published: 1985 Pages: 163
Genre: Nonfiction
Rating: 4/5

In Amusing Ourselves to Death, Neil Postman posits that the world of entertainment is the predecessor, or possibly the culmination, of Aldous Huxley's vision in Brave New World, so I, of course, read them together. Huxley's novel presents a world in which people are so concerned with being happy they are willing to give up freedom. Conditioned from actual conception biologically and then further conditioned through sleep-teaching, people live lives which have been entirely mapped out for them: each class following the prescribed and hypnopaedically conditioned beliefs and activities given to them such as promiscuity ("everyone belongs to everyone else"), a fear of solitude, a perfect understanding of their job but nothing else, and a drug called soma to dispel any unhappy thoughts.

To Postman, I suppose both the drug and the conditioning translates as television or in a larger context, the media. And I can very much see this in modern society. I often teach that our ideological beliefs are taught to us through tv. What we think of as acceptable behavior and goals are dictated by the stars both off and on screen...conditioning. Television of course is also what we do to kill time, make us happy, and help us escape from our everyday lives....soma. A different look at Postman can be found on Brandon's Blog Et Alia here.

One of the main issues presented in both books is the lack of knowledge, indeed the lack of a desire for knowledge, in the population of these societies. Both societies, the real and the fictional, seem perfectly happy to know as little as possible. They take their information in small doses without question whether from Postman's media or Huxley's proverb-based conditioning. They don't go beyond what they are given to apply logic and reason, and they don't worry about how or if the information is relevant to their lives.

I agree wholeheartedly that this description is applicable to contemporary society. I am often surprised by what my students don't know, but more often surprised by the fact that they don't care to know. An extra credit quiz I give in my classes asks students to answer such questions as "in what decade did the American civil war end", "when did women get the right to vote", and "who wrote King Lear". I also give true/false questions like "Africa is the largest country in the world". Every semester I am saddened when I get the results and see that out of 30 such questions, the average student can only answer 3. My students don't see their results and feel embarrassed or suddenly desire to learn more; they don't see it as indicative of anything negative. Why does a nurse need to know about the civil war? What use is Shakespeare to a mechanic? These are more often the responses I receive, said with a laugh and a look highly reminiscent of condescension. They seem to find my concern laughable.

I'm not saying that knowing that the civil war ended in the 1860s is any sort of mark of intelligence - afterall knowing facts without context is one of Postman's concerns - but I do worry that the American population is falling into Huxley's vision of a world in which the past is irrelevant and almost obscene. Without the context of our past what are we?

In my students, I can hear Huxley's Lenina saying "I am free. Free to have the most wonderful time. Everybody's happy nowadays." But at what price happiness? And if you have been conditioned to a particular perception of what it means to be happy, can you ever be actually happy?

Title: Brave New World
Author: Aldous Huxley
Published: 1998 Pages: 288
Genre: Dystopia
Rating: 3.5/5

I have to wonder, as Brandon did, about the irony of my (for the most part) agreement with both authors while I am blogging on the issues and simultaneously watching Transformers on tv. Postman was not against tv; he just felt that the viewing audience needed to be more aware of the true nature of tv - entertainment not serious information. As such, he may not be too offended. Huxley may have seen television as a form of soma, but I'm combining my soma with a more intellectual pursuit. I like to think that both Postman and Huxley would see my current actions as acceptable if not ideal. Afterall, I'm not mindlessly consuming or using my media....... but I do so enjoy it.

So after that rambling bit of thought, I do have a question. How do we bring lengthy discourse and the application of thought and reason to our media-developed ADHD population?

The Steward Says...

Weekly Geek's prompt is Let's Talk Cookbooks! and boy do I have a cookbook worthy of discussing. The Original White House Cook Book: Cooking, Toilet and Household Recipes, Menus, Dinner-Giving, Table Etiquette, Care of the Sick, Health Suggestions, Facts Worth Knowing, Etc. Etc.: A Comprehensive Cyclopedia of Information for the Home by Mrs. F.L. Gillette and Hugo Ziemann, Steward of the White House, published in 1887. That's right ladies and gentlemen, it is the cookbook to beat all cookbooks.

Along with higly attractive drawings of various animals with their bodies divided and numbered, this book is jam-packed with lovely tidbits of wisdom such as:

"Be careful to keep the mouth shut closely while masticating the food" (545).

"Do not attempt to eulogize your dishes" (550).

"Mutton is prime when cut from a carcase which has been fed out of doors, and allowed to run upon the hillside" (5).

"Dishes for invalids should be served in the daintiest and most attractive way" (69).

The Hilarious: "Pains in the side are most promptly relieved by the application of mustard" (495).

"Lamb born in the middle of the winter, reared under shelter, and fed in a great measure upon milk, then killed in the spring, is considered a great delicacy" (5).

Now while for the most part this book does nothing more than give me a chuckle, I have to admit the Custards, Creams, and Desserts section is very appealing. And the Pastry, Pies, and Tarts section has a recipe for Plum Custard Tartlets, which doesn't sound overly tasty, but does include the word Tartlet of which I am now a big fan.

There are also Lemon, Orange, and Meringue Custard Tartlets. Enough said.

Dress to Impress

The closest I come to "dressing to impress" is a knee-length white and black skirt with a black shirt...pretty basic. But I make up for the less-than-fancy clothes by adding clunky black shoes with super-high heels. In these shoes, I feel powerful and that feeling of strength translates to others.

So what do you wear when you want to dress to impress?

The Story about Ping

Marjorie Flack and Kurt Wiese wrote a 32 page, picture-book story about a duck named Ping. I have copied it here for you:

Once upong a time there was a beautiful young duck named Ping. Ping lived with his mother and his father and two sisters and three brothers and eleven aunts and seven uncles and forty-two cousins. Their home was a boat with two wise eyes on the Yangtze River.

Each morning as the sun rose from the east, Ping and his mother and his father and sisters and brothers and aunts and uncles and his forty-two cousins all marched, one by one, down a little bridge to the shore of the Yangtze river.

All day they would hunt for snails and little fishes and other pleasant things to eat. But in the evening as the sun set in the west, "La-la-la-la-lei!" would call the Master of the boat.

Quickly Ping and his many family would come scurrying, quickly they would march, one by one, up over the little bridge and on to the wise-eyed boat which was their home on the Yangtze river. Ping was always careful, very very careful not to be last, because the last duck to cross over the bridge always got a spank on the back. But one afternoon as the shadows grew long, Ping did not hear the call because at that moment Ping was wrong side up trying to catch a little fish.

By the time Ping was right side up his mother and his father and his aunts were already marching, one by one, up over the bridge. By the time Ping neared the shore, his uncles and his cousins were marching over, and by the time Ping reached the shore the last of his forty-two cousins had crossed the bridge!

Ping knew he would be the last, the very last duck if he crossed the bridge. Ping did not want to be spanked. So he hid. Ping hid behind the grasses, and as the dark came and the pale moon shone in the sky Ping watched the wise-eyed boat slowly sail away down the Yangtze river.

All night long Ping slept near the grasses on the bank of the river with his head tucked under his wing, and when the sun rose up from the east Ping found he was all alone on the Yangtze river.

There was no father or mother, no sisters or brothers, no aunts or uncles, and no forty-two cousins to go fishing with Ping, so Ping started out to find them, swimming down the yellow waters of the Yangtze river.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, boats came. Big boats and little boats, fishing boats and beggars' boats, house boats and raft boats, and all these boats had eyes to see with, but nowhere could Ping see the wise-eyed boat which was his home.

Then came a boat full of strange dark fishing birds. Ping saw them diving for fish for their Master. As each bird brought a fish to his Master he would give it a little piece of fish for pay.

Closer and closer swooped the fishing birds near Ping. Now Ping could see shining rings around their necks, rings of metal made so tight the birds could never swallow the big fish they were catching.

Swoop, splash, splash, the ringed birds were dashing here and there all about Ping, so down he ducked and swam under the yellow water of the Yangtze river.

When Ping came up tot he top of the water far away from the fishing birds, he found little crumbs floating, tender little rice cake crumbs which made a path to a house boat. As Ping ate these crumbs, he came nearer and nearer to the house boat, then - SPLASH!

There in the water was a Boy! A little boy with a barrel on his back which was tied to a rope from the boat just as all boat boys on the Yangtze river are tied to their boats. In the Boy's hand was a rice cake.

"Oh-owwwwwoooo!" cried the little Boy, and up dashed Ping and snatched at the rice cake. Quickly the Boy grabbed Ping and held him tight.

"Quack-quack-quack-quack!" cried Ping.

"OH! - Ohh-ooo!" yelled the Little Boy.

Ping and the Boy made such a splashing and such a noise that the Boy's father came running and the Boy's mother came running and the Boy's sister and brother came runnign and they all looked over the edge of the boat at Ping and the Boy splashing in the water of the Yangtze river.

Then the Boy's father and mother pulled at the rope which was tied to the barrel on the little Boy's back. They pulled and they pulled and up came Ping and the Boy on to the house boat.

"Ah, a duck dinner has come to us!" said the Boy's father.

"I will cook him with rice at sunset tonight," said the Boy's mother.

"NO-NO! My nice duck is too beautiful to eat," cried the Boy. But down came a basket all over Ping and he could see no more of the Boy or the boat or the sky or the beautiful yellow water of the Yangtze river.

All day long Ping could see only the thin lines of sun which shone through the cracks in the basket, and Ping was very sad. After a long while Ping heard the sound of oars and felt the jerk, jerk, jerk of the boat as it was rowed down the Yangtze river.

Soon the lines of sunshine which came through the cracks of the basket turned rose color, and Ping knew the sun was setting in the west. Ping heard footsteps coming near to him.

The basket was quickly lifted, and the little Boy's hands were holding Ping. Quickly, quietly, the Boy dropped Ping over the side of the boat and Ping slipped into the water, the beautiful yellow water of the Yangtze river.

Then Ping heard this call, "La-la-la-la-lei!" Ping looked and there near the bank of the river was the wise-eyed boat which was Ping's home, and Ping saw his mother and his father and his aunts, all marching, one by one, up over the little bridge.

Swiftly Ping turned and swam, paddling toward the shore. Now Ping could see his uncles marching, one by one. Paddle, paddle, Ping hurried toward the shore. Ping saw his cousins marching, one by one.

Paddle, paddle, Ping neared the shore, but -

As Ping reached the shore the last of Ping's forty-two cousins marched over the bridge and Ping knew that he was LATE again! But up marched Ping, up over the little bridge and SPANK came the spank on Ping's back!

Then at last Ping was back with his mother and his father and two sisters and three brothers and eleven aunts and seven uncles and forty-two cousins. Home again on the wise-eyed boat on the Yangtze river.

I typed the whole story because I didn't think I could fully express the strangeness of the story in summary. I mean you have ducks getting whacked, one who practically runs away to not get whacked, enslaved birds, imminent death of the main character to feed humans, and boys tied to boats.

The strangest part though is that I absolutely LOVED this book as a child. My mother hated reading it to me because she thought it was too depressing, but I would beg and beg and beg for her to read it one more time. She said some nights I would ask for her to read it three or four times in a row.

This, the strange story of Ping, is the book I learned to read with. What was it about this book that drew me to it? Why did I like this sad tale so much as a child? And why do I still keep the exact same copy read to me as a child on my bookshelf?

A Cartoon Villain Who Lost to Retarded Heroes

An evil wizard with a degree. He lives in a forest in the middle of nowhere in a run-down hovel, so we're not sure how much good it's doing him.

In his early appearances in the cartoons he wanted to capture Smurfs in order to make gold. Later, he decided he wanted to eat them instead. Finally, he got tired of making excuses and admitted he just wanted to slaughter Smurfs because murder is awesome. That's why he named his cat Azrael, which is a name for the angel of death.

In addition to being an alchemist, he has the godlike ability to create life, and once created Sassette, a female smurf. If he can make his own smurfs, why does he continue to hunt the free ones? Because he's fucking Gargamel, that's why!

Who Was He Constantly Losing To?

Tiny (just "three apples tall") peace-loving communists that survive on Smurf berries and very limited skills.

Each smurf is named for their single, completely worthless "talent." You've got Hefty Smurf (remember, very small), Brainy Smurf, Jokey Smurf, Grouchy Smurf, Dreamy Smurf, etc. There is no Nucleary Smurf or Snipery Smurf or Impaley Smurf to be found.

A normal man of no supernatural powers shouldn't be losing to this group of penis-sized commies. Hell, the goddamned cat should have taken care of the whole village in an afternoon.

Courtesy of cracked.com