This month has been one of waiting. An inordinate amount of waiting: in airports, at bus stops, train stations, in taxicabs; in fact my life over the last few weeks has felt like some fifth level limbo but with extra good books.
<<TBR CHALLENGE 2017: JULY>> Note: Jane at Greenish Bookshelf and Jackie at Death By Tsundoku are co-hosting the Anne of Green Gables series readalong – totes check out their blogs if you want to … Continue reading Anne of Avonlea & the Island PLUS TBR Challenge (or 3 birds…one teeny stone…)
Hiya Kittens, You may recall in the land before time, I mentioned a Project Montgomery, starting with LM Montgomery’s classic Emily series…I posted maybe once…or twice, and then life etc … Continue reading Anne of Green Gables, LM Montgomery, (or rewards for the backslidden, no matter WHAT Rachel Lynde says…)
So this months TBR Challenge (from Wendy the peerless and diamond-like Librarian) was Historical.
I am behind (Like the white rabbit, sans the pocket watch, because mine died years ago..) and Emily Climbs fulfils both my I-am-going-to-read-a-montgomery-a-month, and the TBR Challenge that I have been feeling slightly desperately about.
The framing and lens of childhood is a peculiarly unique thing. Thoughts, experiences and world views are constrained by a lack of knowing and conditioned by only a few powerful influences.
‘If it’s IN you to climb you must — there are those who MUST lift their eyes to the hills — they can’t breathe properly in the valleys.’ Once the … Continue reading Project: Montgomery (or Emilys and Annes; Cobwebs and Dreams…)
Organised by the amazing Juhi @ Nooks & Crannies. It is finished. I feel like a proclamating tv evangelist (sans all the asking for additional funds to build glass churches…) … Continue reading MIDDLE MARCH. THE END (Or Dorothea is my spirit animal…Rosamund on the other hand….?)
<<TBR CHALLENGE: August 2016>> Today has been one of those warm, salubrious days, where time seems to slow and stretch out before you in a vast ribbon-like stream. It reminds … Continue reading Flamingo Flying South, Joyce Dingwell, (or the best Pet Moppet in the world….)
I was writing a post on my July TBR – but my manifest guilt over MIDDLEMARCH was holding back my inspiration. Thus, I present, at long last (for the 2.9 % of you that were waiting with bated breath)
Middlemarch Book VI – The Widow & The Wife.
I have neighbours. Well, actually I have to two seperate sets of neighbours.
One set live in a large yellow brick house with an enormous hedge of trees that cut them off from the road. Practically invisible to the general passerby; their front screen-age is so immense, a battalion from Battlestar Galactica could land on their front lawn, and you would never know.
I haz shame. I am SUPPOSED to be doing a BINGO Post…and also a Middlemarch one…but here I am, pontificating about something else entirely.
But that is because it is just so good.
I am bringing out the wallow pig.
I have a rut. It’s comfortable and secure. Located deep in a dell by BlueCastle, it contains THOUSANDS of romances.
Sky-high piles of romances.
In fact so many romances, I have considered becoming a sort-of endangered species-rescuer of romances; whisking them away from their unfortunate situations and perilous existence in op-shops, garages and the back of wardrobes everywhere and releasing them at BlueCastle…where they can roam freely, without prejudice or fear of poaching…
So very late…BUT for those of you middling along with us marchers…
We are now at mid point. The ABUNDANCE of characters have levelled off and whilst there are all sorts of THINGS happening, we have settled into three main storylines. (a bit of a relief really, I am not sure my character map could fit much more in…)
I have decided. Eliot is like casserole. A long, slow-cooked casserole that fills the house with its smell and impregnates itself into the curtains.
When last we left them, the Middlemarchers were fair to middling in their various life choices.
We had met Dorothea and DESPAIRED of her marrying that dull prosy old fart (Casaubon); and had made a tentative acquaintance with Tertius Lydgate.
We are a passionate bunch here at BlueCastle. We love and loathe in equal measure.
Topping the list of most hated include:
Moustachioed heroes. (I may include the recently read Karen Robard Wild Orchid’s Max as my ONLY current exception to this rule.)
One of my New Year’s resolutions was to read (or re-read) classic novels. You know, those books literati refer to with arched eyebrows and smug smirks, to which I nod knowingly about and bluff my way through, whilst never having ACTUALLY really read. (Advanced English & Cliff’s Notes for the win).
Isn’t funny how books slip through your memories? When you are first discovering them, reading them and subsequently being enchanted by them, you think you are NEVER going to forget … Continue reading A Company of Swans, Eva Ibbotson (or The Archive of the Dis-Remembered…)
When I was young, the next (big) town up from our non-existent village had an annual used book sale – it was HUGE (at least to my 8 yr old eyes). There were thousands of books, piled onto tables, stacked in boxes against the walls, leaning and supporting each other like so many lopsided towers of pisa.
When I was 12, already entangled in all the Annes (green gables, avonlea, windy willows – and my favourite of all – the island…) and the Emily’s (of the new … Continue reading The Making of a Marchioness (or is there a heroine dumber than Emily Fox-Seton?)