11 O' Clock Tales
I can't find any good books to read! No matter how often I browse through books at the Univ's Waterstones bookshop, I can't find any good books to read. The problem is that I don't want to read chick-lit. Or sad stories. Or crappily written new books. Or books about dysfuntional families/childhoods. I don't want to read about the immigrant experience in UK. I don't want to read about the ugliness of reality. I only want to read light-hearted fiction with a twist. I want romance, adventure, sheer escapism, old-fashioned values. Good must triumph over evil. And they must all live happily ever after.
I've been moaning about this book hartal to various friends. And the poor souls have tried to tempt me with morsels like "The Bookseller of Kabul" (reality in post-war Afghanistan) or "The shadow of the Wind" (Can't begin to figure this one out). One book is lying unopened on a dining-table chair. The other has a cosy, if temporary, home in our new book shelf.
Out of sheer desperation, as we were about to set out for a weekend break at Haverfordwest a couple of weeks back, I picked up Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility. But I haven't been able to find the time to read it.
This is strange because I have found the time to read and enjoy Matilda and James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl; More William and William the Superman by Richmal Crompton; Tracy Beaker by Jacqueline Wilson; and the latest Michael Morpurgo story about children in WW-II.
And I am currently re-reading and thoroughly loving every word of Enid Blyton's The Mystery of the Secret Room, which is more than I can say for reading The Enchanted Wood. This edition is Sacrilege! (I can't seem to find a stronger word.) The politically correct nincompoops have renamed poor Bessie and Fannie, Beth and Frannie. And worst of all they call Dame Slap (ooooh I wish they would set her on some of kids here), Dame Snap!!! Of course she never slaps any child. The magic faraway tree is magic no more for me. I've stopped reading it. But I'm reading the Fatty as fast as I can. God forbid that when I pick it up again, they've changed his name to Freddie!
So it seems like I am doomed(?) to reading children's literature. But the good news is that there's a lot more of it now than there was a few years back. And quite frankly, if it's the only thing that fits my very specific specifications, then so be it. You can't beat Bunter or Stalky & Co.
I've been moaning about this book hartal to various friends. And the poor souls have tried to tempt me with morsels like "The Bookseller of Kabul" (reality in post-war Afghanistan) or "The shadow of the Wind" (Can't begin to figure this one out). One book is lying unopened on a dining-table chair. The other has a cosy, if temporary, home in our new book shelf.
Out of sheer desperation, as we were about to set out for a weekend break at Haverfordwest a couple of weeks back, I picked up Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility. But I haven't been able to find the time to read it.
This is strange because I have found the time to read and enjoy Matilda and James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl; More William and William the Superman by Richmal Crompton; Tracy Beaker by Jacqueline Wilson; and the latest Michael Morpurgo story about children in WW-II.
And I am currently re-reading and thoroughly loving every word of Enid Blyton's The Mystery of the Secret Room, which is more than I can say for reading The Enchanted Wood. This edition is Sacrilege! (I can't seem to find a stronger word.) The politically correct nincompoops have renamed poor Bessie and Fannie, Beth and Frannie. And worst of all they call Dame Slap (ooooh I wish they would set her on some of kids here), Dame Snap!!! Of course she never slaps any child. The magic faraway tree is magic no more for me. I've stopped reading it. But I'm reading the Fatty as fast as I can. God forbid that when I pick it up again, they've changed his name to Freddie!
So it seems like I am doomed(?) to reading children's literature. But the good news is that there's a lot more of it now than there was a few years back. And quite frankly, if it's the only thing that fits my very specific specifications, then so be it. You can't beat Bunter or Stalky & Co.
posted by Sabiha | 10:55 AM
4 Comments:
why don't you try reading jonathan strange and mr norrel by susanna clarke? i'm enjoying reading it. i'm also reading orhan pamuk's snow, which is great as well, but given your frame of mind, clarke's book is just perfect for you.
last time when i was in cal, i saw several copies of old enid blyton books selling on the footpath. remember the series of used books stalls all along the gariahat footpath? i saw the entire naughty amelia jane series, william, malory towers, st clare's etc and wanted to buy for little g, then decided to buy them later.
and oh there were many m&bs as well, the old mellow ones, you know, not the new raunchy ones!
I shall, I shall, I shall give the Clarke book a try! BTW, there seem to be loads and loads of Naughtiest Girl... books around. But surely EB only wrote 3. I wish they wouldn't have other people writing sequels.
So did you find something to read? I have been feeling excactly the same way and cribbing to sheetal so she showed me your post.
do tell if you have found some relief/success- i am working myself up to a fine level of frustration
Hi Shweta, good to hear from you. I got over the book-drought by getting into Sudoku. Instead of reading at bedtime, I was doing Sudoku! Over the last few weeks, though, the mania has eased, and I am back to reading. Michael Morpurgo is an author I would recommend. I mean to start reading Phillip Pullman soon. And I have rediscovered Roald Dahl. Also def must read Dylan Thomas' Under Milkwood. At the moment, I am reading a Nora Roberts (1986 vintage). Not a very good year for her romances, I'm afraid. But still worthwhile considering it's my first romance in eons. Shall keep you posted on any discoveries.
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