What We're Reading, or, We Really Need a New Bookshelf
Every time I clean our bedroom (which hasn't been lately, by the way), I marvel at how many books Jackspatula and I are managing to accumulate on our respective nightstands. I have yet to actually do anything about the increasingly alarming height of the stacks, though. Jackspatula's stack in particular is getting out of control. Alas, our bookshelves are full, so chances are the books will remain where they are until we get it together enough to go out and purchase a new bookshelf, which, given our track record, will probably be sometime around 2015. Not only that, any new book we purchase will likely be added to one of the stacks, because where else would it go? Chances are, we will meet our grisly demise on some unassuming night when one of the stacks finally topples, killing us both instantly. Death by book-stack, that's our fate.
Without further ado, I present the titles of our would-be assasins, so that history may record the complete and non-revised truth about what 30-something, fairly educated, semi-professional raging liberals are reading these days. (Yes, I feel Jackspatula and I can safely represent this entire group.)
My Stack:
Bill Clinton: My Life, by Bill Clinton. I love him, but this man just does not know when to shut up. I got about a quarter of the way through it, and he was still talking about people he met when he was 14. He's met about 150,000,000 people in his life, and he remembers the names, birthdays, and states of origin of every single one of them. And feels the need to share this with you. I will never finish this book.
Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them, by Al Franken. Amusing, but it makes me too angry. I got about three-fourths of the way through and then stopped reading after last year's presidential "election." Yes, this book has been on my nightstand for that long.
The Anarchists' Convention and Other Stories, by John Sayles. Sayles is a great short-story writer, but for some reason I keep reading the first three stories over and over and never get any further into the book. It's the anarchist's way, I guess.
Wise Blood, by Flannery O'Conner. Again, a great short-story writer, but I'm not sure she should have attempted a novel. I've tried to read this about four times and never get more than a third into it.
Positively Fifth Street, by James McManus. One of two books on my nightstand I've actually finished. This is a great story about a journalist/slash/amateur poker player who went to Vegas in 2000 to cover the World Series of Poker and wound up winning his way into the main event and then making it to the final table. It's a great read if you can get past his constant whining about how much he misses his family. (You were gone for, like, 10 days, man! Think of the soldiers in Iraq who have to leave their families behind for months! Get over it!)
The End of the Affair, by Graham Greene. The other book I actually finished, and for the second time. It's a perfect little novel.
Nobody's Fool, by Richard Russo. This is the only book that will for certain eventually leave the nightstand, as it's a library book. I got about a quarter into it and then quit. I"m not sure why--it's pretty good, but it just didn't grab me strongly enough. Out of laziness, though, I keep renewing it instead of returning it. (In my opinion, online library management is the absolute best use of the Internet, along with poker, Netflix, and, of course, blogging.)
The Professor, the Banker, and the Suicide King, by Michael Craig. A crazy book about a millionaire who challenged a bunch of poker pros to play heads-up games for stakes like $20,000-$40,000 blinds. This is the one I'm reading now.
Well, that's it for me. Now, for the real big-stack contender. An asterisk indicates a book that I have also read. I have no idea how many of these he's actually read.
Jackspatula's Stack
Men at Work, by George Will (baseball book)
*An Ordinary Person's Guide to Empire, by Arundhati Roy (political, obviously)
*Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight, by Alexandra Fuller (memoir, quite excellent)
*Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley (classic)
*The Perfect Storm, by Sebastian Junger (much better than the movie)
*Breakfast of Champions, by Kurt Vonnegut (classic)
Hiroshima, by John Hersey (war book, obviously)
Ernie's War: The Best of Ernie Pyle's World War II Dispatches (war book, obviously. Whenever I see the title, I think of Gomer Pyle. I doubt the book is anything like that.)
To Set the Record Straight, by John J. Sirica (book about Watergate)
Buckeye, by Robert Vare (book about famed--infamous?--OSU coach Woody Hayes)
*Into Thin Air, by Jon Krakauer (book about crazy/stupid people dying on Mount Everest, highly recommended)
Doctor Zhivago, by Boris Pasternak (classic that I'm ashamed to admit I haven't read)
*The Inferno, by Dante (classic, obviously)
Leave It to Psmith, by P.G. Wodehouse (classic, but I know nothing about it)
*Girl With Curious Hair, by David Foster Wallace (collection of short stories. This guy is a genius, but not for everyone--it's not easy reading.)
Flyboys, by James Bradley (war book)
Flags of Our Fathers, by James Bradley (war book)
Yes, between the two of us we have 25 books on our nightstands. Which brings me to my new life slogan, which I plan on repeating until it comes to fruition:
Save a Liberal--Donate a Bookshelf!
Without further ado, I present the titles of our would-be assasins, so that history may record the complete and non-revised truth about what 30-something, fairly educated, semi-professional raging liberals are reading these days. (Yes, I feel Jackspatula and I can safely represent this entire group.)
My Stack:
Bill Clinton: My Life, by Bill Clinton. I love him, but this man just does not know when to shut up. I got about a quarter of the way through it, and he was still talking about people he met when he was 14. He's met about 150,000,000 people in his life, and he remembers the names, birthdays, and states of origin of every single one of them. And feels the need to share this with you. I will never finish this book.
Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them, by Al Franken. Amusing, but it makes me too angry. I got about three-fourths of the way through and then stopped reading after last year's presidential "election." Yes, this book has been on my nightstand for that long.
The Anarchists' Convention and Other Stories, by John Sayles. Sayles is a great short-story writer, but for some reason I keep reading the first three stories over and over and never get any further into the book. It's the anarchist's way, I guess.
Wise Blood, by Flannery O'Conner. Again, a great short-story writer, but I'm not sure she should have attempted a novel. I've tried to read this about four times and never get more than a third into it.
Positively Fifth Street, by James McManus. One of two books on my nightstand I've actually finished. This is a great story about a journalist/slash/amateur poker player who went to Vegas in 2000 to cover the World Series of Poker and wound up winning his way into the main event and then making it to the final table. It's a great read if you can get past his constant whining about how much he misses his family. (You were gone for, like, 10 days, man! Think of the soldiers in Iraq who have to leave their families behind for months! Get over it!)
The End of the Affair, by Graham Greene. The other book I actually finished, and for the second time. It's a perfect little novel.
Nobody's Fool, by Richard Russo. This is the only book that will for certain eventually leave the nightstand, as it's a library book. I got about a quarter into it and then quit. I"m not sure why--it's pretty good, but it just didn't grab me strongly enough. Out of laziness, though, I keep renewing it instead of returning it. (In my opinion, online library management is the absolute best use of the Internet, along with poker, Netflix, and, of course, blogging.)
The Professor, the Banker, and the Suicide King, by Michael Craig. A crazy book about a millionaire who challenged a bunch of poker pros to play heads-up games for stakes like $20,000-$40,000 blinds. This is the one I'm reading now.
Well, that's it for me. Now, for the real big-stack contender. An asterisk indicates a book that I have also read. I have no idea how many of these he's actually read.
Jackspatula's Stack
Men at Work, by George Will (baseball book)
*An Ordinary Person's Guide to Empire, by Arundhati Roy (political, obviously)
*Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight, by Alexandra Fuller (memoir, quite excellent)
*Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley (classic)
*The Perfect Storm, by Sebastian Junger (much better than the movie)
*Breakfast of Champions, by Kurt Vonnegut (classic)
Hiroshima, by John Hersey (war book, obviously)
Ernie's War: The Best of Ernie Pyle's World War II Dispatches (war book, obviously. Whenever I see the title, I think of Gomer Pyle. I doubt the book is anything like that.)
To Set the Record Straight, by John J. Sirica (book about Watergate)
Buckeye, by Robert Vare (book about famed--infamous?--OSU coach Woody Hayes)
*Into Thin Air, by Jon Krakauer (book about crazy/stupid people dying on Mount Everest, highly recommended)
Doctor Zhivago, by Boris Pasternak (classic that I'm ashamed to admit I haven't read)
*The Inferno, by Dante (classic, obviously)
Leave It to Psmith, by P.G. Wodehouse (classic, but I know nothing about it)
*Girl With Curious Hair, by David Foster Wallace (collection of short stories. This guy is a genius, but not for everyone--it's not easy reading.)
Flyboys, by James Bradley (war book)
Flags of Our Fathers, by James Bradley (war book)
Yes, between the two of us we have 25 books on our nightstands. Which brings me to my new life slogan, which I plan on repeating until it comes to fruition:
Save a Liberal--Donate a Bookshelf!
posted by flipper @ 12:31 PM
2 Comments:
At 9:05 AM,
lulu said…
That's impressive! I switch mine out pretty regularly. Right now there are just three: The Historian (eek! Vlad the Impaler!), Freakonomics, and the Good Vibrations Guide to Great Sex in the 90s (hey! I already HAD great sex in the 90s!). I just returned America: The Book, What Your Kindergartner Needs to Know, and a book of essays about living closer to the land, to the shelves. My nightstand is tiny. On Kevin's side? The omnipresent woodworking book of some sort.
At 12:23 PM,
Sven Golly said…
Yes! What's more fun than writing about writing? Reading about reading! Escpecially when it includes phrases like "Jackspatula's stack." Really interesting selections too (my new mantra: you are what you read).
My current stack, on a windowsill by the desk, since our shelves are overflowing, too, contains:
Hitler's Peace, Philip Kerr's newest political/detective/spy novel, not up to the standards of his best work but good enough to finish.
Enjoy Your Symptom, Slavoj Zizek's dense analysis of Charlie Chaplin and other films. Tough sledding.
Wild Fermentation, a kind of users guide to preserving food, making homemade cheese, wine, beer, cider, pickles, etc.
Sandburg's Lincoln trilogy, which I started in 1977 and have been meaning to get back to, but in its box makes a great bookend.
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