May Reads

So let's go ahead and talk about what I read last month, since four days into June and I'm not totally in love with where my reading is headed this month.  And least not yet anyway. 

But back to May.

Bird by Bird - Anne Lamott

I finally finished Lamott's Bird by Bird - "Some Instructions on Writing and Life."  It felt like I'd been reading this book for ages - not because I didn't enjoy it (I loved it) but because I was sort of picking it up and reading a few chapters here and there in between other novels.  Having never read any of Lamott's work before this book (for shame) I wasn't quite sure what to expect.  She is the kind of writer who you immediately want to befriend, the kind of person who, when you invite them over for a glass of wine, would end up helping you finish off the bottle, giggling and marveling with you over the loveliness and absurdity of life, all in the same breath.  Her writing is funny and warm and equal parts silly and sarcastic and just plain charming all the way 'round.  She provides a lot of useful suggestions and tips on writing in this book, and I found myself underlining, starring, and making notes so often in the book that by the time I finished I think the copy might be more of my own blue pen than her printed words.  This is a book I see myself going back to several times over, almost like a reference book - if you can make a reference book that has you laughing out loud one moment, and catching your breath in awe and respect in the next.

As I said above, Lamott's work lent itself to a lot of highlighted, noted pages.  Here is one of my favorites from the book:

"...And I don't think you have that kind of time either.  I don't think you have time to waste not writing because you are afraid you won't be good enough at it, and I don't think you have time to waste on someone who does not respond to you with kindness and respect.  You don't want to spend your time around people who make you hold your breath.  You can't fill up when you're holding your breath.  And writing is about filling up, filling up when you are empty, letting images and ideas and smells run down like water - just as writing is also about dealing with emptiness."  

By now we all know how much I adore Ernest Hemingway, so I'll do my best to keep my gushing to a minimum.  I grabbed The Sun Also Rises from my bedroom at my Dad's house the last time I was home in March, having an inkling even then that I might just go ahead and say yes to that trip to Spain my friends had invited me on a few weeks prior.  Funny enough, I'd actually read The Sun Also Rises years ago.  Allegedly at least.  For it was definitely my handwriting in the margins, my green and blue inked pens that did the underlining in sections I enjoyed.  It's a bit of a mystery to me as I know for a fact I didn't read it for any college classes, which means I read it on my own accord at some point...and sadly, found that I remembered almost nothing of it this time around.  It all worked out in the end of course, as I had a "new" Hemingway read tucked under my arm on my way to and from work for a few weeks and, as the majority of the novel is set around Spanish bullfights, it lent a delightful ambiance as I packed, planned, and prepared for my Iberian adventure.  A Farewell to Arms remains my Hemingway favorite, but this book does not disappoint. In fact, I can see why this book didn't have as much of an impact on me the first time I read it.  There's something that ten years of life and experience lend to this novel.  There's a reason why it was considered the voice of the lost generation - and I understand that now far better than I would have at 21 or 22.

I finished The Sun Also Rises the night before I left on vacation and, while I did bring a book along with me on the trip, only managed the time to read approximately ten pages the entire time we were away.  That's what a busy trip will do to you.  So here's to June...and the hope I find another novel  that makes me swoon sooner rather than later.