It's as hot as the bowels of hell in the office and I'm tired to begin with, so it feels like my eyeballs are sagging backwards in their sockets and trying to sink into my chest cavity.
Yay, Monday.
Yesterday I made tereré for the first time, because it was too damn hot for mate. Verdict: Icy and refreshing, but not as good as mate. (I really need to convert someone around here to the wonderfulness of the yerba. I enjoy it very much all on my own, but it’s meant to be a social drink, and I miss my mateadas with Rica back in South Dormitory on lazy summerish afternoons at Grove City.)
Saturday I finished reading the first book I haven't read before in months (most of my reading lately has been comfort reading, immersing myself in old favorites as in the company of old friends) -- Barbara Kingsolver's Prodigal Summer. I really enjoyed it, particularly the rich lyricism of her prose. It doesn’t rank up there with favorite books I’ve ever read, but it was certainly a worthwhile read. After I finished it, I surveyed my shelves to see what I should tackle next, and settled on Umberto Eco’s Island of the Day Before. (I bought this book for four reasons: 1. It cost a dollar. 2. It was by Umberto Eco. 3. It has an awesome title. 4. The cover is gorgeous. I was thoroughly seduced.) I skipped The Name of the Rose and missed Foucault’s Pendulum, so this is my first Eco novel, and it already has me grinning over the way he plays with language and constructs deconstructible characters. A wry narrative sarcasm permeates the writing and I can’t help but love it.
And then last night I indulged a whimsical mood and started watching one of my parents’ Looney Tunes collections, which I haven’t watched probably since I was an adolescent, and I really love the brilliance of Bugs Bunny’s character. I’m going to start emulating that cool nonchalance when things run amok.
That’s all, folks.
2 comments:
I absolutely love Eco's work, but The Island of the Day Before is one I haven't gotten to yet. Maybe I should find my copy and crack it open.
Yeah, I knew you were an Eco fan. I don't know why I haven't read him before -- I think with The Name of the Rose I was just avoiding work, since I was supposed to read it for one of our GCC classes; and then with Foucault's Pendulum I'd have to say I was just being stubborn. (Me, acting out of cussedness? I know, I know. It's a shocker.) Also I tend not to love Renaissance settings. But this book so far is absorbing, funny and wonderful.
And again, the cover is really, really pretty. (Kind of along the lines of ooooo, shiny!) I couldn't not.
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