I’m very proud of myself!

I’ve got my falafels in the freezer and my tzatziki sauce and pita dough in the refrigerator. But that’s for tomorrow night’s dinner. Tonight I made tuna-stuffed avocados and Caesar salad.

I know, I know, I bill myself as a vegetarian, but sometimes I just get this craving for protein that only fish can provide! Which means canned tuna. Because of the fish guilt. And this was very good – and very easy…and very fast! Maybe a bit heavy on the mayonnaise for me – I might do a blend of mayonnaise and dijon mustard next time instead – but the crunch of the red onion and the hint of spice from the crushed red pepper flakes are a nice contrast to the tuna and the avocado.

And I had one heart of romaine left over from the salad that never ended, so I decided to make myself a Caesar salad. Except I didn’t use the anchovies (fish guilt!). And, despite the fact that I have four egg yolks sitting in my freezer, just waiting to be used in a recipe, I didn’t use them either (the substitution was so convenient – I’ll never finish this mayonnaise as it is, I figured I may as well use some of it up in this salad, plus, in order to freeze egg yolks, you have to mix them with either salt or sugar to keep them from becoming too gelatinous when you defrost them again and, assuming I was more likely to use them in a custard than a Hollandaise sauce, I went with the sugar which I doubt would go very well in a salad dressing). Also, I used Romano cheese, a close-but-not-quite Parmesan (I bet Fenimore Cooper made that same substitution – holla to all the Mark Twain fans!). So it’s a faux-Caesar salad. But it’s authentically yummy!

“The Man With the Twisted Lip” Or, in which Watson forgets his own name…Or does he?

“The Man With the Twisted Lip” was first published in December 1891. As for when it takes place, Baring-Gould places it at Saturday, June 18 to Sunday, June 19, 1887. He does point out that he is alone in choosing 1887 – every other Sherlockian believes Watson’s 1889. How did he come to this lone wolf of a conclusion?

First off, Watson gets something wrong – June 19, 1889 was a Wednesday, not a Friday but July 19, 1889 was, therefore, Watson must be wrong about either the Friday, the June, the 19th, or the 1889. Baring-Gould decides that he must have meant Saturday, June 18, 1887. Frankly, I think it’s a bit presumptuous of him. He concedes that Neville’s son’s age, for whom he is buying building blocks, does support the 1889 date, but chooses to ignore it, therefore, I guess Baring-Gould believes Neville is bad at buying age-appropriate gifts. Never fear, though, we have weather report! Watson mentions that Monday was an exceedingly hot day and I assume Baring-Gould couldn’t hold back his gleeful shriek. According to the Times (and Baring-Gould’s subjectivity), there were no exceedingly hot Monday in June 1889. However, Monday in June 1887, it was 81 degrees with plentiful sunshine (13 hours and 40 minutes of it, apparently). [I would argue over the use of the word exceedingly for 81 degrees…even for London.] I noted that 4:30 a.m. seemed very early for the sun to be shining so brightly when Watson and Holmes head off to the City to visit Bow Street – knowing my editors, I also noted [We’ll see what Baring-Gould has to say about this!] And he didn’t let me down! On page 382, he confirms that sunrise in June in England is between 3:50 and 3:49 a.m. (confirming June which leaves the day of the week, the date, or the year in error). [D’oh! I am rebuked. (Though I still only ever remember the sun being up that early in Aberdeen and not in London…)]

Leslie notes that this is the first of the Holmes stories to play fair – that is, Holmes gets the same information the reader is afforded and at the same time. But I have to say that I missed the usual explanation at the end of how Holmes figured it out. As it is, we never find out what caused him to make all the correct connections!

Perhaps the biggest scandal of this story is Mary Watson’s referring to her husband as ‘James’ when his name is patently ‘John.’ Leslie thoughtfully collects all theorized explanations for this lapse for us and I’m passing the savings on to you (in order of most likely to most outlandish):

  • Good old Dorothy Sayers suggests that it is a reference to Watson’s middle name, ‘Hamish’ which is the Scottish version of…’James’ (NA, 194).
  • Ebbe Curtis Hoff, who wins my vote, suggests that ‘James’ is a ‘playful reference to Watson’s role as Holmes’ Boswell–James Boswell’ (NA, 194).
  • Christopher Morley (who is obviously a Watson fan) blames the disintegration of the Watson’s marriage on the implications  of Mary’s slip-up (NA, 194).
  • ‘Some scholars see the “James” reference as an indication of a “second hand” in the narrative. For example, T.S. Blakeney writes, “Composite authorship may generally be attributed to historical writings, irrespective of whether the original record was the work of the putative author or of another person of the same name; and the suggestion arises that the ‘James’ Watson spoke of in The Man With the Twisted Lip may be one of these editors”‘ (NA, 195).
  • John D. Beirle takes this a step further and claims that ‘viewed objectively, The Man With the Twisted Lip gives evidence of hasty and even careless composition by someone not familiar with Dr. Watson’s family life.’ inferring that the story was not written by Watson but by Arthur Conan Doyle. Leslie goes on to note that ‘Beirle’s view is not a popular one’ (NA, 193). I wondered why it was such an unpopular theory, given that it seems to make sense. Turns out Leslie didn’t give us the whole quote – ‘The unfortunate conclusion to which we are forced is that this “adventure” is not by Dr. John H. Watson, nor is it, actually a recollection of facts. Rather, we must conclude that it is a work of pure fiction…’ (BG, 387). [Now I see why it’s unpopular – fiction, indeed!]
  • Many people suggest that Mary was actually referring to someone else in the room. Candidates include Watson’s bull pup, a stepson (by the doctor’s marriage to Mrs. Forrester), or an adopted child who later tragically died (This theory is supported by the extra room in Watson’s flat, mentioned in “The Crooked Man.”) (NA, 195).
  • Bliss Austin (who is quickly becoming my favorite non-editor Holmesian) suggests that there are two Watsons, John and James. John having died shortly after the adventure of “The Reigate Squires,” James took on John’s identity (this seems to happen a lot to Watson, doesn’t it?) (NA, 196).
  • Ian Neil Abrams does him one better, suggesting that John and James are in fact twins – John was the one wounded in the shoulder and James in the leg (very tidy, Abrams!). John initially shared rooms with Holmes and then James took his place when John left to see to a growing medical practice. James then met and married Mary Morstan and, I guess, John moved back in with Holmes (it’s James who looks after the oft-absent John’s practice). I think I’m starting to confuse myself, but you get the picture (NA, 196).
  • And then Baring-Gould rains on everyone’s parade by pointing out that ‘when we recall that Conan Doyle named Watson for his friend James Watson, the slip of the pen is understandable’ (BG, 369). [Boo, Baring-Gould, you’re no fun!]

Exhausting, right?! So which do you think is the real explanation?

Much is made of Mrs. St. Clair’s reaction when Holmes returns with Watson. Frankly, I think she’s disappointed that Watson isn’t, in fact, her husband, returning safe and sound from the City with Holmes. Richard Asher, in “Holmes and the Fair Sex” writes that ‘surely as men of the world, we can interpret [this posture (her draping herself artfully in the doorway, backlit and wearing a light mousseline de soie with fluffy pink chiffon at her neck and wrists, that is)] correctly’ and points to her insistence that Holmes stay at her house in Kent, an inconvenient seven miles from the scene of Holmes’ investigation along with her aforementioned method of greeting him. He goes on to conclude that it is ‘abundantly clear that Holmes had brought Watson with him as a chaperon’ and that ‘even with [Watson sleeping in his room], Holmes does not seem to have felt quite secure, for he sat up all night on a pile of cushions smoking shag and probably ruminating over his narrow escape’ (NA, 179). This picture of Holmes terrified of Mrs. St. Claire makes me laugh, as does the Sherlockians’ aversions to seeing Holmes married off. I need to make a chart!

There are even more theories! ‘C. Alan Bradley and William A. S. Serjeant, in Ms. Holmes of Baker Street: The Truth About Sherlock, see this incident as the plainest indication that Holmes was a woman. Of course, the entire incident is easily explicable by those who suggest a homosexual relationship between Holmes and Watson (for example, Larry Townsend’s The Sexual Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, first published by “J. Watson” in 1971) ETA: [I’m so embarrassed – I was so excited at the prospect of Sherlockian essays about Holmes and sex that I not only forgot to close my quotation marks here, I forgot to cite my source! How shameful!] (NA, 179). My first thought was ‘WANT!Those wacky Sherlockians, they’ll write an essay about anything!’ but I’ll save you the Googling, it’s erotica, not scholarly. But still! Averse to seeing Holmes married off!

After Mary getting Watson’s name wrong and whether or not Holmes and Mrs. St. Clair were involved in an illicit affair, the subject that gets the most discussion is Holmes’ dressing gown, specifically how many he has and what color they are. Really, Holmesians? Really? I think the better question here is why we care how many dressing gowns Holmes has, let alone what color they may be! Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad we do care, but you have to admit it’s a little weird. (The Holmesians are divided: Christopher Morley says that there is only one – it is blue here, has faded to purple by the time he wears it in “The Blue Carbuncle”, and then fades even more as Mrs. Hudson airs and suns it in the backyard while he’s…away for a bit [I don’t know who doesn’t know what’s coming, but I don’t want to spoil it just in case.] so that it is mouse-colored in “The Bruce Partington Plans” (NA, 184). S. B. Blake suggests that he began with two (the blue one and the purple one) which were lost in a fire…later on [*is shifty*] and he bought the mouse-colored one when he was in Italy…for some reason [*shifty*] (NA, 184). “Richard Lancelyn Green dismisses the controversy, observing that the dressing-gown was likely borrowed from Neville St. Clair” (NA, 184). Baring-Gould mentions that ‘Morley liked to wear, to dinners of the Baker Street Irregulars, a hideous tie striped in blue, purple, and mouse” (NA, 381). And I LOL’d (and long to join the Irregulars!).

My miscellaneous thoughts! [Let me show you them!]

  • When Watson is looking for his friend in the opium den, he comes across a disguised Holmes who, as part of his disguise (sure, right, Holmes, it’s part of your “disguise”), has an opium pipe with him. Leslie notes that “the normally staid Encyclopedia Britannica, in its 1910 edition, continued to carry instructions for its use” (NA, 164). [I don’t know what I find funnier – Leslie description of the encyclopedia as ‘staid’ or the fact that if you wanted to know how to smoke opium, you could look it up in the same.]
  • There is gossip afoot! Baring-Gould and Leslie both express astonishment at the fact that Watson would treat his wife so cavalierly – he bundles his opium’d off his rocker friend into a cab with a note to that he’s gone gallivanting off with Holmes…again. ‘In the view of Clifton R. Andrew (“What Happened to Watson’s Married Life After June 14, 1889?”), Watson failed to refer to Mrs. Watson in stories after “Man with the Twisted Lip” because their marriage ended in divorce, as a result of conduct such as Holmes suggests and Watson adopts here.” (NA, 166). [This (and the sentence that follows the note [‘and for the rest, I could not wish anything better than to be associated with my friend in one of those singular adventures which were the normal condition of his existence.’ (NA, 166)]) would not be hard to believe. Not that I blame you, Watson!]
  • Holmes spends a quiet, contemplative night, smoking an ounce of his shag tobacco (and counting his lucky stars to have escaped the clutches of Mrs. St. Clair, apparently). When he awakes, Watson notes that ‘The pipe was still between his lips, the smoke still curled upward, and the room was full of a dense tobacco haze, but nothing remained of the heap of shag which I had seen upon the previous night’ (NA, 184). [I know Watson’s a smoker, too, but how did he manage to sleep in all that smoke! How inconsiderate! Really, Holmes.]
  • I bet Holmes is trying to come up with a mathematical equation to predict how short your trousers will be when you sit down.

  • ‘Mr. Simpson added that it is small wonder that the coat sunk, for the coins would have weighed about twelve pounds avoirdupois. [Avoirdu-what, Baring-Gould?! (It’s a system of weights in which 1 pound=16 ounces. So…twelve pounds, I think, is sufficient explanation, BG.]

Whew! That concludes what I think is my longest Holmes post to date – hope you were able to get through to the end of it! Stop by next week when I’ll be discussing “The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle” and, undoubtedly, Holmes’ now-purple dressing gown.

*Most of my notes, I think, come from the New Annotated simply because I find its format easier to work through and it is, therefore, the version that I’m reading first (I’m only reading the notes in the Baring-Gould). Much of the information is doubled up, but there is some that is unique to either volume, so if you see NA, that’s the Baring-Gould edition and BG is the New Annotated. No, I’m totally kidding – it’s the other way (the logical way) round.

Something new!

I seem to have headed off in the direction of the Middle East for dinners this week – I’m planning on falafel later on (complete with homemade pitas – cross your fingers!) and tonight I had Turkish Eggs!

I’ve never even heard of Turkish Eggs, but I’m glad they caught my eye on Foodgawker yesterday – they’re very tasty despite being a very different combination of flavors and textures (and temperatures, though I think that might be because I paused to take photos [and forgot to toast the bread until everything else was finished]). It’s cool and tangy from the yogurt and warm and creamy from the poached eggs and spicy from the crushed red pepper flakes and paprika-y from the paprika (how would you describe paprika?) and garlicky from the garlic and onion-y from the chives. It all comes together to be delicious!

And now I’m going to follow it with some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies courtesy of yesterday and my freezer!

Oi! Subconscious! Pick an idea and stick with it!

Uh, I had actually divulged my ideas for my new writing project to some of you and I have to say that, in the wave of a revelation about Henry, Ephraim, and Jack (who were previously on a timeout for being uncooperative [and poor Finny and her lighthouse never even crossed my mind]), Ned, Vera, and what’s-his-name (it’s probably not a good sign that I STILL haven’t come up with a name for my second lead) have now been sent to the corner to think about what they’re supposed to be doing.

So now instead of WWII, I’m focusing on Napoleonic!Britain/States? Or maybe Gold Rush!California/Australia…

In which the world’s shortest quest concludes!

There are many things I should be doing right now: reading Sherlock Holmes and making notes for Tuesday’s book club post, making my grocery list for the week, learning to play the ukelele (yes, really), painting my fingernails (and also making sure they’re short enough for the aforementioned ukelele playing), berating myself about not doing any writing (which reminds me that I should also be making a short post about that, too), or working on a post about how (or whether or not) our exposure to pop culture as children/teens molds our personality and tastes as an adult all sparked by an amazing, hilarious, and insightful review of Twilight.

Any of those things would be a productive use of my time. What have I been doing instead? MAKING THE MOST DELICIOUS CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES I HAVE HAD IN OVER FIFTEEN YEARS!*

Yes, that is a photo of the freshly baked cookies cowering in terror before a reminder of their imminent fate a giant glass of milk – I was too excited to try them to even attempt to be artistic. So, if you remember, last time I mentioned that I was going to try Joy the Baker’s chocolate chip cookie recipe. Well, this is it and it’s amazing! It’s everything I want in a cookie – it’s chewy with just a touch of crispiness along the very outside edges and buttery and I think you can taste the difference the brown sugar makes. Perfect.

Also, it conveniently uses one egg plus one egg yolk and what do I have sitting in my freezer ready to be used (along with the rest of the ready-to-bake cookie dough from this recipe)? I only have to make this recipe four more times and I’ll have used them all up! Life is hard sometimes, but I shall endeavor to struggle through.

*Okay, to be fair, that’s the amount of time that I wasn’t eating chocolate – a more accurate description here might be that these are, in fact, the most delicious chocolate chip cookies I have had in the last nine months or so. Oh, which reminds me, I probably used about half (or a little more than half) of the called-for chocolate chips – I may be eating chocolate again, but I find too much of it is just overwhelmingly rich and sweet and yuck.

“The Five Orange Pips” Or, in which Baring-Gould has a field day!

Oh, I’m feelng woefully uninspired to be witty about “The Five Orange Pips” – Leslie was just plain boring this time around and all Baring-Gould did was obsess over the date and the weather and how many wives the scourge of three continents Watson has had (I know I say that every time, but it’s just that every time I really do mean it and then Baring-Gould ascends even greater heights of date nitpicking! And the wives is actually an entire essay on the subject and references some characters, cases, and evidence that we have yet to come across, so I’m going to save that for later.). I have literally one note from Leslie and a handful from Baring-Gould, so here we go!

“The Five Orange Pips” was first published in November 1891 and, according to Baring-Gould and his weather reports, takes place from Thursday, September 29, to Friday, September 30, 1887.

Both Leslie and Baring-Gould point out theories that none other than our old friend Moriarty has a hand in the mystery. In “The Horsham Fiasco,” Mr. Benjamin Clark says that ‘If the smokescreen of Klan persecution were eliminated, attention would logically be turned to the question of who, after John’s death, inherited Elias’ considerable fortune and Joseph’s handsome competence. We have at least prima facie evidence suggestion that the love of money ran strong in the Openshaws…Also consider the propensity to violence  apparent in the Colonel. Is the assumption improbably that these strains were to be found commingled in less diluted form in the blood of a relative whose name was never made known to us? Could that unknown, an individual of genius-like cleverness and fiendish greed, have engineered the whole scheme? By any chance could he have been–“Dear me, Mr. Holmes, dear me!”‘ (BG, 403). If you ask me, that seems like an awful lot of work for Moriarty to go through when he could have just quietly poisoned his relatives instead, but maybe that’s just not as fun.  Who knows?

There is another nice Moriarty-related call back (or call forward, I suppose) which occurs early on. When Openshaw first arrives, he tells Holmes that he is there on the recommendation of Major Prendergast who Holmes’ helped to clear his name when he was wrongfully accused of cheating at cards in the Tankerville Club Scandal. Baring-Gould points out that the Tinkerville Club ‘must have borne an evil reputation: a fellow member of the Major’s was none other than the notorious Colonel Sebastian Moran’ (BG, 392), right-hand man to Moriarty. Which I guess also lends a bit of credence to Moriarty’s involvement – surely it would have been easy for Moran to ‘encourage’ Prendergast to send Openshaw to Holmes to make sure Holmes knew who he was really dealing with.

“The Five Orange Pips” is also the first of the short stories to mention unpublished tales of Holmes and Watson – ‘the adventure of the Paradol Chambers, of the Amateur Mendicant Society, who held a luxurious club in the lower vault of a furniture warehouse, of the facts connected with the loss of the British barque Sophy Anderson, of the singular adventure of the Grice Patersons in the island of Uffa, and finally of the Camberwell poisoning case” (NA, 134). According to Leslie, there are over 110 unrecorded cases mentioned in the canon, though ‘John Hall, in The Abominable Wife, points out that there is meaningful information about only thirty-nine of these cases. My favorite, of course, which will be mentioned (but not explained) later is, I imagine, one of many a Sherlockian favorite – the Giant Rat of Sumatra. Sounds so exciting, doesn’t it?!

I also noticed, along the lines of the unrecorded cases, some often-glossed-over lines. When Watson is relating how he chooses which cases to write up, he says that ‘it is no easy matter to know which to choose and which to leave. Some, however, have already gained publicity through the papers, and others have not offered a field for those peculiar qualities which my friend possessed in so high a degree, and which it is the object of these papers to illustrate.’ Okay, fair enough, right? He goes on, though! ‘Some, too, have baffled his analytical skill, and would be, as narratives, beginnings without an ending, while others have been but partially cleared up, and have their explanations founded rather upon conjecture and surmise than on that absolute logical proof which was so dear to him’ (NA, 133). Now, I know we all (or at least I do) think of Holmes as infallible, but I admit that, statistically, there must have been one or two cases that he was unable to solve. What I find shocking, however, is Watson’s admission here that Holmes sometimes fell back on conjecture and surmise! I would think he would sooner admit defeat than not have absolute logical proof. It just seems so wrong and out of character! Really, Watson, I’m surprised at you for saying such a thing.

There is also much discussion among the Sherlockians about Watson’s description of the sound of the wind as it ‘cried and sobbed like a child in the chimney’ (BG, 390). Now, obviously, he doesn’t really mean that the wind sounds like a child in a chimney sounds but that the wind in the chimney sounds like a crying and sobbing child, but the Sherlockians (You’re either a Sherlockian or a Holmesian depending on whether you’re American or British, but I can never remember which way round it is…) have taken great joy in deliberately misunderstanding him. Mr. Bliss Austin in the awesomely named essay “What Son Was Watson?” says that ‘it is high time that someone investigated this matter of how a child in a chimney sobs’ (BG, 390) and Felix Morley discusses (slightly off-topicly, I would say) which William Clark Russell novel Watson is reading in his essay called “How the Child Got into the Chimney” (BG, 391). Poor Watson. Dammit, Baring-Gould, he’s a doctor, not a writer!

And I’m afraid that’s it! A short discussion this time. Tune in next week, when I’ll be discussing (hopefully in greater depth) “The Man With the Twisted Lip.”

*Most of my notes, I think, come from the New Annotated simply because I find its format easier to work through and it is, therefore, the version that I’m reading first (I’m only reading the notes in the Baring-Gould). Much of the information is doubled up, but there is some that is unique to either volume, so if you see NA, that’s the Baring-Gould edition and BG is the New Annotated. No, I’m totally kidding – it’s the other way (the logical way) round.

You asked for it…

It is with some trepidation that I’m finally posting this for you, but Janis requested the updated version and who am I to disappoint? So, without further ado:

What we looked like in 1986...

...and what we look like in 2010.

Not an exact recreation (I prefer the original one – apparently it’s done by a photographer who’s a portraiture legend [my mom likens it to having a Rembrandt hanging in our hallway]), but not as horrific as I was imagining it could be.

Back to baking!

It’s been too long since I did any baking – high time I got started on it again! One of the girls at work has given up chocolate for Lent, so I had to put my plans to make this on hold so that I’d still be able to share. I was intrigued by this recipe for Orange Angel Food Cupcakes with Whipped Cream Frosting – I like angel food cakes but had never realized that they could be made as cupcakes. But they can!

And they’re good, too! The whipped cream “frosting” is a nice touch – as the original poster says, a more traditional frosting would have been too heavy for these cupcakes. As it is, it’s just a nice touch of extra sweetness. Perfect!

(The only problem is that it takes 5 egg whites, so now I have 5 egg yolks in my freezer waiting for a suitable recipe to use them up…)


I always have a hard time coming up with side dishes for my dinners and often end up having completely unrelated things together, but for once, I was actually rather coordinated with my meal planning! I spent basically the entire afternoon in the kitchen, but it was worth it – the Spinach, Poblano, and Cheese Enchiladas (except mine were two jalapenos instead of one poblano and one chile pepper) and Southwestern Avocado and Black Bean Salad were both pretty easy to make (though I got a bit frustrated with my corn tortillas which kept dissolving in my hands!) and very tasty to eat.

The enchilada recipe calls for a jar of premade enchilada sauce, something I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to find at my local market, so I made my own using this Emeril recipe.

The only problem with these two recipes is that they both made so much that I fear I will actually be eating them for the rest of my life. I guess I could have worse problems, but still!

Jude Law vs. Hotson

I wanted to see this movie to see if it was Jude Law that I liked or just Hotson – I mean, objectively, I admit that Jude Law is appealing, but I never really was in the Jude Law camp until I saw Hotson. But now I’m in the Jude Law camp.

The movie is problematic – quite a few little plot holes, to say nothing of the ending (Liz summed it up best when she said she felt betrayed by the movie. She’s so right! Betrayed!) – and I’m not entirely sure I liked it at the time, but now, the longer I think about it, the more I think I actually did like it. Not that I think I need to see it again, but I don’t feel like I was robbed of two hours of my life or anything.

If you haven’t seen the previews, essentially, in the glittery, kind of dystopian future, there’s a corporation who has gone into the business of offering synthetic organs and, when you fall behind on payments, they get repossessed by men like Jude Law and Forrest Whittaker (according to IMDB, their character names are Remy and Jake, but after the movie was over, neither Liz nor I could remember ever hearing anyone call Jude Law’s character by name…). Then Jude Law ends up being a repossessee rather than the repossesser and we’re off!

A warning – it’s violent. Like, over the top violent. But, yeah, there’s something really appealing about Jude Law – although when I first saw him and he didn’t have on his Hotson mustache, all I could think was ‘That’s not my Judesie!’

My rating: I don’t know that I’d recommend it, but it wasn’t terrible – maybe rent it?

ETA1: I forgot! The one thing I had no problems liking about this movie was the soundtrack! Very cool – lots of sort of downtempo, chillout remixes of things (it made me think of a Back to Mine CD really) that were at odds with the frantic or violent things happening in the movie (a cliche that I’m a sucker for).

ETA2: I also forgot! There are two appearances by people in shows from my Thursday night comedy lineup. Shirley from Community is in it and even has a few lines – and gets to threaten Jude Law! Way to go, Shirley! And I think I spotted the young, dark-haired girl from Parks and Recreation getting killed by Jude Law near the end. Way to go, young, dark-haired girl!


The Last Novel by David Markson

I actually finished this on the first plane trip on our way to Hawaii, but decided that it deserved more formatting than I could provide using Edward’s WordPress app, so here you go, a bit later than intended.

I love David Markson. LOVE. I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned it here before, but I do. I saw one of his books on someone’s shelf once – I think it was Reader’s Block – and exclaimed, ‘Oh, I love David Markson!’ and they responded with ‘Have you read it?!’ in a voice of such disdain and disbelief (whether directed toward me or David Markson, I’m not sure [why would I say it if I hadn’t read it?!]) that I couldn’t help but be a little offended (on his behalf as well as mine).

To me, reading a David Markson novel (except for Wittgenstein’s Mistress, I think) is what I imagine reading a Philip Glass piece would be like (and I don’t mean reading the music, I mean reading the music). They’re made up of little…factoids, for lack of a better term, about people, usually artists and literary figures – I don’t know whether or not they’re actually true (though one of them in this books leads me to believe they are – despite that, I treat them like I do Wikipedia – if it confirms what I thought, I believe it, otherwise, if I do end up passing the info along, I make sure to preface it with ‘Well, according to Wikipedia…’) – that, when taken as a whole, eventually tell a story. And occasionally they are little notes from the narrator/author.

Well, a theme, I guess, is more accurate.

The reason I liken his writing to Philip Glass’ music is that, as you begin reading, you can’t really see where it’s going and sometimes things seem to be repeated (in one of his books, this happens occasionally word for word until you reach the end and realize that they’ve gradually been changing and becoming less accurate and coherent – brilliant!) until there is a moment (like in Dickens, too) when suddenly everything falls into place and, looking back over what you’ve read, it seems so obvious but you couldn’t have reached that conclusion until you reached that particular moment. I doubt that makes sense, but it will if you pick up a David Markson book.

For example:

Enrico Fermi once wrote an entire full-length textbook on atomic physics in pencil – without an eraser. (24)

The first opera Toscanini ever saw, at the age of four, was Un Ballo in Maschera. The last opera Toscanini ever conducted, at the age of eighty-seven, was Un Ballo in Maschera. (25)

Poor England, when such a despicable abortion is named genius.

Said Thomas Carlyle of Charles Lamb.

Anybody can be nobody.

Said Eugene V. Debs.

Novelist’s personal genre. For all its seeming fragmentation, nonetheless obstinately cross-referential and of cryptic interconnective syntax.

Wondering why one is surprised to realize that Thoreau was dead at forty-five.

A lament of Schopenhauer’s:

Over how frequently the mere purchase of a book is mistaken for the appropriation of its contents. (51).

There are too many that I marked to share with you, but you get the idea. Better yet, I hope you’re intrigued enough to pick one up (Wittgenstein’s Mistress is more of a traditional novel, at least in format – I wouldn’t know for sure, though, as I haven’t read it yet [stop judging me, Schopenhauer!]). I can’t recommend him enough (despite the fact that, in the end, he’s usually a little bleak).

My rating: A+

And, look, he mentions my favorite person:

Freud’s addiction to cocaine.

Sherlock Holmes’. (107)

IR Fantasy

Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones

Seeing as this is considered a classic in the canon of kids’ books, I can’t believe it took me this long to finally read it! Especially since it was so good!

It kind of has a fable-y quality to its style, but it also turns things a little sideways – Sophie comes from a place full of fairytales (wizards and witches, demons, seven-league boots, etc.) and, being the eldest of three, is resigned to a uneventful life. Of course that’s not what happens otherwise she wouldn’t have a book written about her!

Full of engaging characters who aren’t always what they seem (but sometimes are), I would highly recommend it.

My rating: A-