It's a Book!

Video trailers for books -- it's a concept I can't quite wrap my head around. (Yes, I know I'm a bit of a dinosaur.) I haven't seen the book which this one advertises, but I love the sentiment it expresses.

Two Books

"There are two novels that can change a bookish fourteen-year old's life: The Lord of the Rings and Atlas Shrugged. One is a childish fantasy that often engenders a lifelong obsession with its unbelievable heroes, leading to an emotionally stunted, socially crippled adulthood, unable to deal with the real world. The other, of course, involves orcs."

--Kung Fu Monkey

(Shamelessly swiped from Happy Catholic who posted it on her blog last year.)

Jane Austen's History of England

One thing leads to another on the Internet.

Hoping to improve my English paper piecing technique, I was searching through tutorials when I discovered a link to the British Library which has a number of virtual books one can peruse online.

On their page of most viewed works is a link for Jane Austen's The History of England from the reign of Henry the 4th to the death of Charles the 1st: By a partial, prejudiced, & ignorant Historian. (Scroll down the list until you see it.) Originally written when she was a mere slip of a girl,* The History of England is a parody of popular historical writing. It also contains allusions and in-jokes which would have been most fully appreciated by their intended audience -- her family. But the little book is amusing on its own even for modern readers. The illustrations were painted by Austen's older sister Cassandra, to whom she dedicated the work.

Should you find Miss Austen's handwriting difficult to read, do not despair! At the click of a button, a small window will open with that page's text in an easily read font. Or if you prefer, pressing another button will trigger a oral version of the text which is read aloud by a young lady with a delightful voice and appropriate accent.

I was particularly pleased to have found her History of England during my convalescence because of my firmly held belief that "Jane Austen never lets you down." Every time I went to the hospital to have a baby, I took one of her novels with me in the Oxford World Classic editions. (They are conveniently sized hardcovers, smaller than my hand.) Whenever I have been sick, or sad, or sorely tried, I turn to Jane Austen to take me elsewhere. In fact, I even took a copy of Persuasion with me when I went to have my foot surgery, just in case there was a long wait.

As it turned out, mine was the first surgery scheduled for that morning, so there was no waiting at all. But after I was gowned and prepped and waiting on a gurney, I was so incredibly nervous that I was afraid I might dissolve in tears despite the comic antics of the anesthesiologist (whom I suspect of moonlighting as a stand-up comedian). But then I asked my mom to hand me my copy of Persuasion, and as soon as my hand closed around it, a feeling of quiet calmness

spread from my palm through the rest of my body.

As I said, Jane Austen never lets you down.

____________________

*The British Library says she was 13, Wikipedia suggests 15, and volume 6 of The Oxford Illustrated Jane Austen (edited by R.W. Chapman) dates the work as having been composed in 1791 when Austen would have been 16.

Seven Quick Takes -- I've Been Sick Edition

A bit belatedly, I'm joining Jennifer at Conversion Diary in presenting "Seven Quick Takes," a medley of mini-topics, each of which is too slight to support its own blog post.

1) I had foot surgery at the beginning of May. Because my house has stairs, I decided to spend my convalescence next door at my mom's house, and I'd brought my laptop with me hoping to catch up on my blogging. After all, my wireless network extends to my mom's house, and I wouldn't have much else to do, would I? You'd think, wouldn't you, that having had similar surgery on the other foot twelve years ago I would know better! (Note to future self: lying in pain with foot elevated is not conducive to writing.)

2) Previously read Georgette Heyer novels are probably the best sort of books to read after surgery. They are light and undemanding, -- essential qualities for a book intended to distract one from pain and nausea. (Note to self: No fear of ever becoming a drug addict -- everything seems to make me throw up.)

3) Netflix is wonderful resource for light and cheerful movies, and since my new laptop can use their instant play feature, there's no waiting for the US Postal Service to deliver the next disc. However, I still had a DVD of Housewife 49 which had been delivered before the surgery, so I decided to watch it. Big mistake. I'd originally ordered it because I couldn't get a copy of the book on which it was based. The protagonist is a withdrawn and depressed housewife in Britain at the start of World War II. Though her husband had previously discouraged her attempts to become involved with people who might be outside her class, she heeded her doctor's advice to join the Women's Volunteer Services and gradually blossomed into a stronger and more independent person. She also volunteered to write a journal for a British agency which was documenting the lives of ordinary people during the war. Now that I'm feeling better, I still want to read the book. But the movie did nothing to improve my spirits while I was still on my bed of pain. (Note to self: Timing is everything!)

4) Since I cannot drive yet, my mom's been taking me to my weekly followup appointments which means that I can actually look at the scenery along our route. (I did not learn to drive until I was middle-aged, so I still feel like a relatively new driver. I tend to grip the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip of death and fear to let my eyes stray from the road by even a fraction of an inch.) So yesterday I enjoyed being able to look around, but then I noticed a billboard with a blatantly misused apostrophe. Normally, I can hide the fact that I'm a grammar geek. But abused apostrophes make me twitch. Coincidentally, this morning I stumbled across this poster: "How To Use An Apostrophe" which I think ought to be widely distributed as a public service announcement.

5) Okay, as long as we're on grammar peeves, I also love "The Alot is Better Than You at Everything" which my daughter just emailed to me. (Is she trying to tell me something?) It will not improve anyone's grammatical usage, but it could definitely help someone like me develop coping skills.

6) While I was still too weak to sit up and use my 4 lb. laptop, my brother came to show me his new iPad. Kewel! It's so light I could have held it up while lying flat on my back (with my foot elevated) to watch movies and read books. And it comes with an ebook version of Winnie the Pooh! What fun I could have downloading obscure short stories by Louisa May Alcott. (Note to self: Don't be silly. You can do that on your laptop. Besides, you just spent all your money on your foot!)

7) On the bright side: I have no more feet eligible for surgery. I will never have to do this again!

For more Quick Takes, join Jennifer and her posse at today's Conversion Diary.

Life, the Universe, and Everything

Today is Towel Day. No doubt, the rest of you already know that. (I am always the last person on Earth to know anything.) But on the off chance that you don't, I'll just mention that May 25th is the day on which fans the late Douglas Adams carry about a towel in honor of the author and his work, especially the multitudinous permutations of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

This is an embarassing admission for a bibliovore, but I have never liked the novels of Douglas Adams. I thought they were over-written and that there were far too many of them. And I just didn't think they were that funny.

However, I thought that the original radio broadcasts were brilliant! (How sad I sometimes feel when reading cranky reviews on Amazon from young people who think that the novels came first and that the radio shows are recent and faulty adaptations.)

I first heard the radio series in the early years of my marriage, possibly on KPFK and probably in the late '70s or early '80s. My husband recorded the two original series (including the bridge episode) on our reel-to-reel recorder from which he later made cassette copies for everyday listening. It must have been a recording of the original broadcast since it includes the Pink Floyd background music which was later cut from the segment where our heroes land on Magrathea. (Copyright problems.)

Over the years, The Hitchhikers's Guide to the Galaxy became an important cultural influence in our family. Our children grew up using phrases such as "You've got to build bypasses!" or "Forty-two?" in everyday conversation -- even though they had never read the book, heard the radio broadcasts, or seen the television series. And when they were not washing their heads at us, they generally considered their parents to be hoopy froods who really knew where their towels were. Until, of course, they got old enough to swipe our cassette tapes and discovered that we weren't actually witty, but merely given to inveterate quotation.

Actually, they may have first encountered Hitchhiker's in our library. For there, in the media and humor section, we had a copy of The Original Hitchhiker Radio Scripts. Every now and then I reread them and "hear" once again the original voices, music, and sound effects of that long ago broadcast. And they still make me smile.

So despite not liking his novels, I'll raise a glass to Douglas Adams (carefully spreading a towel on my lap in case of spills) and thank him for enriching our family vocabulary. May he rest in peace.

(By the way, the shirt pictured at the beginning of this post can be found at Think Geek.)

When the Universe Paused and Held Its Breath...

This morning, as I was flipping through The Liturgy of the Hours to find my place in Lauds, my eye fell on the following selection in the Office of Readings. The harrowing of hell, when Christ descended to the abode of the dead to free the imprisoned souls of the just, is a popular theme in Early and Middle English literature, especially in the mystery plays. I've always found them charming -- a sort of early Catholic fan fiction. In the Creed, we affirm that "he descended into hell" -- but no one knows exactly what it was like. It is a gap which human imagination longs to fill.

I suppose this sermon is much older. In a fictionalized form, it depicts the meeting of Adam, the first man, and Christ, the new Adam.

From an ancient homily on Holy Saturday
(PG 43, 439, 451, 462-463)

The Lord descends into hell

Something strange is happening — there is a great silence on earth today, a great silence and stillness. The whole earth keeps silence because the King is asleep. The earth trembled and is still because God has fallen asleep in the flesh and he has raised up all who have slept ever since the world began. God has died in the flesh and Hell trembles with fear. He has gone to search for our first parent, as for a lost sheep. Greatly desiring to visit those who live in darkness and in the shadow of death, he has gone to free from sorrow the captives Adam and Eve, He who is both God and the Son of Eve. The Lord approached them bearing the Cross, the weapon that had won him the victory. At the sight of him Adam, the first man he had created, struck his breast in terror and cried out to everyone, ‘My Lord be with you all.’ Christ answered him: ‘And with your spirit.’ He took him by the hand and raised him up, saying: ‘Awake, O sleeper, and rise from the dead, and Christ will give you light.’

I am your God, who for your sake have become your son. Out of love for you and your descendants I now by my own authority command all who are held in bondage to come forth, all who are in darkness to be enlightened, all who are sleeping to arise. I order you, O sleeper, to awake. I did not create you to be held a prisoner in Hell. Rise from the dead, for I am the life of the dead. Rise up, work of my hands, you who were created in my image. Rise, let us leave this place, for you are in me and I in you; together we form one person and cannot be separated.

For your sake I, your God, became your son; I, the Lord, took the form of a slave; I, whose home is above the heavens, descended to the earth and beneath the earth. For your sake, for the sake of man, I became like a man without help, free among the dead. For the sake of you, who left a garden, I was betrayed to the Jews in a garden, and I was crucified in a garden.

See on my face the spittle I received in order to restore to you the life I once breathed into you. See there the marks of the blows I received in order to refashion your warped nature in my image. On my back see the marks of the scourging I endured to remove the burden of sin that weighs upon your back. See my hands, nailed firmly to a tree, for you who once wickedly stretched out your hand to a tree.

I slept on the Cross and a sword pierced my side for you who slept in Paradise and brought forth Eve from your side. My side has healed the pain in yours. My sleep will rouse you from your sleep in Hell. The sword that pierced Me has sheathed the sword that was turned against you.

Rise, let us leave this place. The enemy led you out of the earthly Paradise. I will not restore you to that Paradise, but will enthrone you in heaven. I forbade you the tree that was only a symbol of life, but see, I who am life itself am now one with you. I appointed cherubim to guard you as slaves are guarded, but now I make them worship you as God. The throne formed by cherubim awaits you, its bearers swift and eager. The Bridal Chamber is adorned, the banquet is ready, the eternal dwelling places are prepared, the treasure houses of all good things lie open. The Kingdom of Heaven has been prepared for you from all eternity.

National Grammar Day

Today is National Grammar Day, hosted this year by Mignon Fogarty (a.k.a. Grammar Girl). Click here to join in the festivities which include a special Grammar Day song.

Naturally, my favorite part was the links to a grammar noir series written by writer and editor John MacIntyre on his blog, "You Don't Say."

Part I, 2010

Part II, 2010

Part III, 2010

As for myself, I plan to celebrate by curling up with a nice grammar book today. But which one? My trusty copy of Warriner's English Grammar and Composition? (I picked it up at a church rummage sale for only 10 cents and it has given me decades of useful service.) My massive copy of Writing Handbook by Bernard J. Streicher, S.J.? It's my go-to source for when to capitalize religious terms. One of Karen Elizabeth Gordon's slim, light-hearted volumes such as The Transitive Vampire: A Handbook of Grammar for the Innocent, the Eager, and the Doomed. Or perhaps the granddaddy of them all, The Elements of Style by Strunk & White. I think that may have been my very first grammar purchase, either at the end of high school or the very beginning of my freshman year at college.

I suppose there is something pathetic about admitting that one enjoys reading grammar books. How much worse it must be to admit to having two shelve's worth of books about words, grammar, and writing. Can we say, "doesn't have a life"? But given my love of reading, is it surprising that words and the use of words are the very breath of life to me?