Disturbing, Relatively New

Occasionally, I wonder to myself what my kids will face that's worse than what we have 'faced' to date. Occasionally, I get a glimpse of worse.

This, posted on Ace of Spades (a conservative blog with a lot of silly morons who post and comment regularly) which I found because it was a finalist or contestant for some award or something, is a post about people who cut off their own limbs.

It's not enough any more to just cut oneself and watch the beautiful red stuff flow down your extremities, there's now a disorder in which someone feels their body is too big, or too extended or something and must be cut back. I would hate to meet one of these people.

Also, not sure how this fits into the plan.

More Bastard

Still reading The Bastard of Istanbul, and it's slow going. I'm officially sucked in, but I keep pausing at jarring sentences, and savoring certain points.

I savor those parts that talk about how some people never talk about the past, as though it were a closed or even non existent part of their life. Not only have they had no chance to learn about their parents or ancestors, their own lives seem better without their youth recalled to memory.

One character, the clairvoyant sister, is so curious about the past, she must ask her evil djinni to tell her what really happened.

Only just now, towards the end of the book I am finding out who Asya's real father is. I noted at the beginning how she was described as having traits from her mother and each of her aunts, but no mention of traits from her father, as though her father made no appearance in her appearance or in her personality.

I'm in the habit of having an opinion about everything and this book is no exception. I find my opinion is that it has expanded my thinking and given me insight into Turkish and Armenian life, albeit fictionally and maybe inaccurately, but somehow I feel some thread of truth in the characterization and the issues facing them. I didn't enjoy the writing style at first, now I mind it less, and find myself drawn in.

Focus

This morning I found myself wishing I were one of those more focused people in the world, who do one thing and do it well, and appear to have no regrets about their lack of range.

I on the other hand, find myself having some regrets about the breadth of range I tend towards, since I have not found a way to make it useful to my life.

I should remind myself however that useful and money are two different things. Teachers are very useful and necessary but are not well compensated.

Bastard of Istanbul

I just started this book this morning.

The main character has gone to a clinic to have an abortion, she screams just as they're about to do it, and they actually don't. She goes home, she faces her family. There's a long part about how all the men in their family die or are killed randomly. Creative and entertaining so far and the main character is a 19 year old female with long flowing hair and long legs. What more could a reader want?

Invitation to a Beheading

Invitation to a Beheading is just as much fun to read stylistically as are Nabokov's other books.

It was a depressing book though, because one feels so sorry for the ugly person who's being made to wait for his beheading.

The magical, almost nonsensical events in the book make the other absurd events even more so, because the absurdity level is raised. While reading, one is struck by the actions of the people around Cin even when those actions might be reasonable to many people.

I thoroughly enjoyed Nabokov's characters other than Cincinnatus. He was not delightful or enjoyable, he was actually pretty depressing. However, I didn't like the other characters any more, I just enjoyed the fact that these were caricatures of people I've seen in mylife. Who have demands who have egos who have behavior they thing is right and normal, but in fact are obtrusive, abrasive, unwanted, and unnecessary.