Mighty Bob

I had a copy checked out from the library (very clearly marked “Mayfair Branch, Chicago Public Library”) that I’ve left somewhere, neither at home nor the office. I only have 6 weeks left to find it and return it or pay a hefty replacement fine. Even worse, it’s probably the best novel I’ve read since – well, possibly since ever – and I’d like to finish it if possible. Holla back!

UPDATE: You can stop searching your house for it.  I found it in a box of pamphlets in the office. (Stupid Old Irving Park Assn!)

“…expressed a wish to go to the river with a fishing rod. He liked
fishing and seemed to take pride in being able to like such a stupid
occupation.”

-Tolstoy, Anna Karenina

Russian literature is about life.
English literature is about class.
American literature is about the self.
French literature is about death.
Spanish/Hispanic literature is about literature.

A couple of days ago, I shared what had for a long time been one of my favorite paragraphs in English. I’ve been thinking about that paragraph a lot lately, ever since reading the following paragraph, which I’m nearly certain has taken its place. (Or, as Bill Cosby would put it, “I told you that story so I could tell you this story.”)

Augustine Mulliner, a vicar with a sideline selling the efficient tonic Buck-U-Uppo, has been paid a midnight visit by his Bishop, much animated, who has subsequently borrowed from Augustine his Sindbad the Sailor costume.

As the door closed behind his guest, Augustine was conscious of a definite uneasiness. Only once before had he seen his spiritual supervisor in quite this exalted condition. That had been two years ago, when they had gone to Harchester College to unveil the statue of Lord Hemel of Hempstead. On that occasion, he recollected, the Bishop, under the influence of an overdose of Buck-U-Uppo, had not been content with unveiling the statue. He had gone out in the small hours of the night and painted it pink. Augustine could still recall the surge of emotion which had come upon him when, leaning out of the window, he had observed the prelate climbing up the waterspout on his way back to his room. And he still remembered the sorrowful pity with which he had listened to the other’s lame explanation that he was a cat belonging to the cook.

-P.G. Wodehouse, “Gala Night,” Mulliner Nights (NY: Vintage Books, 2005). Originally (London: Herbert Jenkins, 1933) and (NY: Doubleday, 1933)

If you don’t read Wodehouse, why don’t you read Wodehouse?

When I found out about this conference about gaming & learning – and bringing game-mediated learning into the library environment – I said to my branch head: If I can’t go to this conference, I will just die.

Well, thanks to a lot of institutional support (from my branch, from my district chief, from my heroes in staff development, and, apparently, all the way up the chain of command) my death will be forestalled for a little while. Phew!

Because this is a fairly expensive conference, and because it takes me away from the branch for two days(!) I’m trying to arrive fully prepared. I’ve ordered copies of the following books, which I hope to have browsed by early December:

What video games have to teach us about learning / Gee, James Paul.

Everything bad is good for you: How Today’s Popular Culture Is Actually Making Us Smarter / Steven Johnson

Freakonomics : A Rogue Economist Explores the Hidden Side of Everything / Steven D. Levitt, Stephen J. Dubner

The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference / Malcolm Gladwell

The Singularity Is Near : When Humans Transcend Biology / Ray Kurzweil

Okay, actually I ordered the Tipping Point about 3 months ago, having neglected to grab a free copy when they were giving it away at my old dot.com job during the dot.com boom. (I had already read the original articles in the New Yorker.) And the Kurzweil I would be reading anyway, because it’s an obsession right among a certain circle of my friends. But the first two books I expect to be fully engrossing and have a lot to say about these issues of “multiple literacies” we’ll be trying to address.

I’m sure it will be a great conference, even though JPB can’t come with. I’m totally gonna challenge my co-workers in Dance Dance Revolution and break out with all my best bowling alley moves!

So who follows up their NY Times-bestselling, Alex award-winning, critically praised, popularly beloved debut novel with a comic book?

Chicago’s own Audrey Niffenegger, that’s who! I was poking through a systemwide order that came through yesterday (thanks M., S., and K.!) and what should catch my eye but a huge, thick, full-color picture storybook, patently way too big for kids.

Calling itself “an illustrated novel” – but in fact consisting primarily of giant, page-sized illustrations, accompanied only by short lines of prose on opposite pages – The Three Incestuous Sisters is at first glance a beautiful piece of art. The illustrations fall somewhere between Edward Gorey and Japanese Ukiyo-e to my poorly-trained eye, and I can’t wait to see how it reads.

I hope novel readers give this comic book a try. For my part, I’m so excited by a sophomore novel in comic form that I’m even eager to give The Time Traveller’s Wife a spin.

Funny, not even a week ago, I was helping a couple of artsy patrons who mentioned they were friends of Audrey Niffenegger’s. Small world.

The Alex award, by the way, was established by The Margaret Alexander Edwards Trust to recognize ten outstanding adult books each year that teenagers can enjoy. Also winning in 2004 were The Kite Runer, which XXX Branch will be discussing on Saturday Dec. 19 at 11a.m., and Persepolis, another comic book, which is probably my favorite book of the last ten years.

Oh, by the way, when the new ILS comes out, I should be able to link to XXX Public Library’s holdings of these books – instead of Amazon’s.

Rachel the Wrybrarian invited me to post on her Blog! So I did!

Was reading Joseph Mitchell on the train. Writing about voodoo practitioners in NYC, he uses the phrase “mumble jumble” instead of “mumbo jumbo”. Archaic usage? Alternate usage? Or actual etymology?