12 September 2009
Reading: A Tale of Two Cities (Charles Dickens)
Alas, it is impossible to knit and read simultaneously. The only solace: knitting is a hobby that opens up a new genre of pretty pattern books. But still, I am a busy young lady and I never get to both read and knit to my heart's desire in one day. I tried to solve this problem by seeking out novels with a lot of knitting in the story. But I ended up on a pretty dismal path along the poorly-written-chick-lit lane. I am now mostly recovered from that experiment and finally ready to try again. This time I am starting "A Tale of Two Cities" by Charles Dickens. Here I go into the world of knitting and revolution!
08 September 2009
Subway Reading
I loved this last Sunday's article in The New York Times about reading on the train. The article and the accompanying photographs say that the anonymity and the alone-ness (no cell phone and internet connection) offered by the underbelly of our city allows the riders to read all sorts of things for their personal goals. I was disappointed though at missing the perfect opportunity to check off an item on my bucket list, that is to be photographed by the NYT as being a New Yorker doing a very New Yorker thing.
Had I been interviewed, here's what I would've told the fabulous reporter:
"I read on the train because I hate people and I don't want anyone talking to me. Once I sat on a bus without a book and I had to talk the entire 20 minutes of the trip talking to a nosy old man..." No no, that makes me sound misanthropic and bitchy. Start over...
"Well, I read on the train so that I wouldn't look so lonely and awkward as I tend to feel in a crowd." Argh! Stop, that makes you sound nothing short of pathatic. start over...
"What I've always wanted to read on the train is the NYT, but I never do because I still haven't mastered the origami of turning the unwieldy subway map-sized papers into neat quarter sheets. In fact, because I want to easily escape to my book while making the whole thing look effortless, I carry a small book to public transit: of the four books I read simultaneously, one of them is designated as "a book for the MTA cars." It's really only the size that matters; the content and the cover haven't gone into consideration. I did hesitate a bit when I was reading "How to stop worrying and start living" because I didn't want the world to know how neurotic I was. But I convinced myself not to be so narcissistic. No one cares what I am reading because everybody is busy with their own pages and ruminations. But now that I know there's a reporter and other interested people out there scoping out the underground reading scene, I'll now be leaving my selfhelp books on my bed stand." Alright, you're still weird and neurotic, but trying to avoid that would make the comment disingenuous... so this is fine.
Even though I didn't get to be in it, I am clipping the article. It's hard to spot other readers these days, not simply because I am avoiding making eye contact, but because everyone seems to get on and stare at their screens. And no, only a very few are kindles. So I'm glad to find out there are others who still read the newspaper, the novel, the school assignment, the self help book, the Bible and the New Yorker trying to get lost in the world of words together with strangers. Happy autumn reading above and underground!
Had I been interviewed, here's what I would've told the fabulous reporter:
"I read on the train because I hate people and I don't want anyone talking to me. Once I sat on a bus without a book and I had to talk the entire 20 minutes of the trip talking to a nosy old man..." No no, that makes me sound misanthropic and bitchy. Start over...
"Well, I read on the train so that I wouldn't look so lonely and awkward as I tend to feel in a crowd." Argh! Stop, that makes you sound nothing short of pathatic. start over...
"What I've always wanted to read on the train is the NYT, but I never do because I still haven't mastered the origami of turning the unwieldy subway map-sized papers into neat quarter sheets. In fact, because I want to easily escape to my book while making the whole thing look effortless, I carry a small book to public transit: of the four books I read simultaneously, one of them is designated as "a book for the MTA cars." It's really only the size that matters; the content and the cover haven't gone into consideration. I did hesitate a bit when I was reading "How to stop worrying and start living" because I didn't want the world to know how neurotic I was. But I convinced myself not to be so narcissistic. No one cares what I am reading because everybody is busy with their own pages and ruminations. But now that I know there's a reporter and other interested people out there scoping out the underground reading scene, I'll now be leaving my selfhelp books on my bed stand." Alright, you're still weird and neurotic, but trying to avoid that would make the comment disingenuous... so this is fine.
Even though I didn't get to be in it, I am clipping the article. It's hard to spot other readers these days, not simply because I am avoiding making eye contact, but because everyone seems to get on and stare at their screens. And no, only a very few are kindles. So I'm glad to find out there are others who still read the newspaper, the novel, the school assignment, the self help book, the Bible and the New Yorker trying to get lost in the world of words together with strangers. Happy autumn reading above and underground!
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