Stoner

This is the kind of book that takes you by the wrist at first, but by the end of the book it has you by the throat. 

William Stoner, the main dude, is as real to me as any person that I know and I don't know if I will ever really forget him. That's what a great book does, it lives inside of you. 

Here are a few sneak peaks into this treasure of a book:

"In his extreme youth Stoner had thought of love as an absolute state of being to which, if one were lucky, one might find access; in his maturity he had decided it was the heaven of a false religion, toward which one ought to gaze with an amused disbelief, a gently familiar contempt, and an embarrassed nostalgia. Now in his middle age he began to know that it was neither a state of grace nor an illusion; he saw it as a human act of becoming, a condition that was invented and modified moment by moment and day by day, by the will and the intelligence and the heart."

This is a goodie too:

"He had, in odd ways, given it to every moment of his life, and had perhaps given it most fully when he was unaware of his giving. It was a passion neither of the mind nor of the flesh; rather, it was a force that comprehended them both, as if they were but the matter of love, its specific substance. To a woman or to a poem, it said simply: Look! I am alive."

This is one of my faves (he is describing his daughter):

"She was he knew-and had known very early, he supposed-one of those rare and always lovely humans whose moral nature was so delicate that it must be nourished and care for that it might be fulfilled." 

Here a completely unrelated painting by Pierre Soulages. Okay bye.  

That's My Shit: Alain de Botton!

Alain is the kind of writer that articulates the human condition so well that I often feel sheepish reading his observations since they seem to be straight from the part of my brain that must remain undercover if I hope to maintain the guise of normalcy. 

My soul brother Gabriel and I often express this desire to hide our true natures by clicking our fingers frantically. We find this hilarious. 

Back to Alain, I've read two of his books, The Consolations of Philosophy and The Art of Travel. Both are amazing books that I often revisit for clever things to say to others (yes, I claim them to be my ideas so boo!) and I've reread The Consolations a few times in the hope that the ideas will seep into my being and leave me wiser. It hasn't worked, I only seem to retain useless trivia and the names of all the cast members of Cheers. I've never watched Cheers. 

Anyway, Alain's Wikipedia page is really interesting too (click here). As a zealot of The Lord of The Internet I now judge people by their Wikipedia page and his is quite a prize. Here's a clue: mad money! But the thing on his page that predictably alarmed me most was the fact that he wrote his first book at 23. No man, Alain. No. Anyway, jealous down, I really feel like his books should be essential reading for all humans. Huge call and probably not well thought out but I'm sticking to it. 

Take a look at these gems:

“Out of the millions of people we live among, most of whom we habitually ignore and are ignored by in turn, there are always a few that hold hostage our capacity for happiness, whom we could recognize by their smell alone and whom we would rather die than be without.” 

“There is no such thing as work-life balance. Everything worth fighting for unbalances your life.” 

& this too

“Anyone who isn't embarrassed of who they were last year probably isn't learning enough.” 

I've blogged about Mr. De Botton before (click here) but it was his tweets (click here) that impelled me to do this post, on Twitter (and in life) I come across as a semi-literate Japanophile while he manages to spit inspiration daily. He has a very weird head though, that's my consolation. 

P.S. More unrelated photos. But, c'mon, the sky was pregnant with clouds. 

Naturelle, Peanut Butter & The World!

This peanut butter is the champagne of the peanut butter world. Straight outta the fridge and straight outta my dreams, I want to eat this with everything. But actually, I like it best on its own. This terrible (beautiful) habit stems largely from my favourite movie during high school, 25th Hour. 

To bring you up to speed: Rosario Dawson's character, Naturelle made me consider homosexuality. But more importantly, in the movie she eats peanut butter fresh from the tub and it just looked so damned good. So that's where my love affair with the always claggy delight began. At the time I really hated peanut butter, so you can perhaps grasp the intensity of my affection for Naturelle Riviera. Up until then I had always associated peanut butter with grade one boys' breath. But Naturelle ushered in a new phase of peanut-loving that has served my belly well. 

This book is not at all related to my useless homage to peanut butter and the seemingly ageless Rosario Dawson, but it is my reading matter right now and it pretty much has me captivated. The title alone is gold. Plus, the colours of the cover reminded me of the peanut butter tub. Yup, I'm in that deep. I see it everywhere. 

Secret Lives

I'm reading this collection of short stories and it is haunting my dreams so much so that I see it everywhere.

I found the picture above on Tumblr and it reminded me of the cover. 

"She fought life with dreams... She dreamt of lovers who would come for her in sleek Mercedes sports cars made for two. She saw herself linking hands with such a lover, walking in the streets of Nairobi and Mombasa, tapping the ground with high heels, quick, quick short steps. And suddenly she would stop in front of a display glass window, exclaiming at the same time; Oh darling, won't you buy me those...? Those what, he would ask, affecting anger. Those stockings, darling. It was as an owner of several stockings, ladderless and holeless, that she thought of her well-being. Never again would she mend torn things. Never, never, never. Do you understand? Never." 

From Minutes of Glory

Oh Ngugi, you're too much. 

Half of a Yellow Sun!

I haven't read the book (yet). It is one of those that I never got around to reading despite my love for all books involving Nigeria. Now I guess I just have to 'cause I love me some Thandi Newton (what a doll) and I love being smug about reading the book before watching the film adaptation. 

Chiwetel Ejiofor will always be Thabo Mbeki so I'm going to have to remind myself that this isn't about him, although that could be fun too. 

“This was love: a string of coincidences that gathered significance and became miracles.” 

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie 

New Books, New Happiness!

I cannot wait to get stuck in. 

This is Water

This has been playing on my mind since Friday. 

It is particularly sad (and interesting) that Foster Wallace killed himself in the way that he describes in this Kenyon commencement speech. 

A tad morbid, yes definitely, but the message, the "Capital 'T' Truth" as he says is so interesting. 

Really I can't stop thinking about his words. This is water. 

Listen here or watch the videos, just do it dammit. 

Three Things That I Love Right Now

1. This book. Sigh. Whelp. Smile. It has it all! Everyday is made better by this bedside companion. 




2. This in my belly. Banana bread is crazy underrated right now. See my love for banana bread here...

3. These words. So true it hurts. 

Brain Juice!

Read this. Trust me on this one. 

This!

 

Read this and have it live in your brain forever.

Atlas Shrugged

Dan Burgess

I'm rereading Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand because of words like these:

“Productiveness is your acceptance of morality, your recognition of the fact that you choose to live-that productive work is the process by which man's consciousness controls his existence, a constant process of acquiring knowledge and shaping matter to fit one's purpose, of translating an idea into physical form, of remaking the earth in the image of one's values-that all work is creative work if done by a thinking mind, and no work is creative if done by a blank who repeats in uncritical stupor a routine he has learned from others-that your work is yours to choose, and the choice is as wide as your mind, that nothing more is possible to you and nothing less is human-that to cheat your way into a job bigger than your mind can handle is to become a fear-corroded ape on borrowed motions and borrowed time, and to settle down into a job that requires less than your mind's full capacity is to cut your motor and sentence yourself to another kind of motion: decay-that your work is the process of achieving your values, and to lose your ambition for values is to lose your ambition to live-that your body is a machine, but your mind is its driver, and you must drive as far as your mind will take you, with achievement as the goal of your road-that the man who has no purpose is a machine that coasts downhill at the mercy of any boulder to crash in the first chance ditch, that the man who stifles his mind is a stalled machine slowly going to rust, that the man who lets a leader prescribe his course is a wreck being towed to the scrap heap, and the man who makes another man his goal is a hitchhiker no driver should ever pick up-that your work is the purpose of your life, and you must speed past any killer who assumes the right to stop you, that any value you might find outside your work, any other loyalty or love, can be only travelers you choose to share your journey and must be travelers going on their own power in the same direction.” 

Collectors Treasury

Yesterday I did something that I have been meaning to do since the middle of last year. Ahhh, it feels so good. Small pleasures: they're the only ones that I can afford... 

You see, last year while we were on the hunt for an elusive ATM at Market on Main (curse that place); Tommy and I found this hidden gem with books spilling out. It was closed and that made it all the more appealing. 

And so with Tommy being AWOL since flippin' November (that's 9 weeks, sir) I have run out of sad/romantic movies to watch and so I decided to venture out to somewhere besides gym. 

Turns out, the shop is the largest used and rare book shop in Africa and in the Southern Hemisphere being home to over a million books! 

It seems crazy to imagine a million books in one shop, but once you go inside the chaos the books and stuff (vinyls, postcards, teacups) swallow you whole and I felt as though I had entered a place that could be home to a mad genius or a healthy family of (well read) spiders. 

I got Wizard of The Crow by Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o for 80 bucks! Whoop. 

Johannesburg, you beauty! 

Haruki Murakami!

I have always wanted to listen to an audiobook. I think it's because I miss having someone read me bedtime stories. 

I remember once when I was about six or so, I read the whole of Disney's Cinderella to my gran, she listened attentively without saying anything and when I was done, all she said was "you got it all wrong". Hahaha, jeez.   

Anyway, childhood bitterness aside, I recently got Haruki Murakami's memoir This Is What I Talk About When I Talk About Running as an audiobook. It is fantastic, really, I love him.

I have read two of his previous books and getting an insight into him as a person is such a treat. Firstly, he started a jazz bar in Tokyo fresh out of university (kill me now) and then he just started writing and ascended to a kind of coolness reserved for the likes of Prince, Grace Jones and Olof Palme.  

Also, he has the golden ticket of being Japanese, which like being Swedish or Cape Verdean, means that you are necessarily cool and interesting.

Look What I Found

While searching for The Great Gatsby I found this dusty time warp instead. 

Sixty-one years ago this beaut illuminated distant parts of the world. 

I love finding stuff like this, I imagine that one day when I have a serious-looking study this will fit right in. 

P.S. The South Africa advert is a hoot, the inverted commas make me chuckle each time I look at it. Oh yes, and Victoria Falls was in South Africa back then, good to know...

Books!

So Lola insisted on being in this photograph which was intended to artfully showcase the books  that Tommy got me for my birthday. 

All I was getting from her vibe is captured in the captions. Captured in the captions, I like that. 

Anyway, that's Lola. A simple and determined bibliophile. 

So back to the books, Zadie Smith is my favourite writer (sort of). For me, it is difficult to isolate a favourite, the more I read, the more I love. But it is safe to say that she is a firm favourite. Her third novel, On Beauty lives in my mind like a little snow-globe that I sometimes shake and I particularly love her collection of essays called Changing My Mind. She is so startlingly intelligent that I am torn between drunken jealousy and childlike admiration. This book is her long awaited (seven years!) fourth novel so I have great expectations. 

The other book is by a Dominican-American author, it is noteworthy that he is Dominican because well, it's cool. I read his first novel and kinda loved it and I love the title of this book so I will spend December reading and trying to ignore the blatant fact that I have been abandoned by aforementioned gift giver and overall stellar boyfriend..

Pistachio Brownies!

Previously the food editor for British Vogue, Annie Bell is now a food writer and blogger. 

Her new baking book is on my list of books to paw over at Exclusive while ordering countless almond squares..

And her recipe for pistachio brownies (from her blog) is on my ever-growing to bake list.

The search for the perfect brownies is never ending! Aluta continua! 

Mumbai & Midnight!

One of my favourite things about Mumbai was the masses of books lining the streets.

I got Midnight's Children for R16! However, I discovered that the bargain price came with a price of its own as two pages were missing and worst of all the book ended on a comma with the last page missing! 

This was most distressing as I love the feeling of finishing a book and although I hate the ending of most books, being stuck on the plane wondering what happened is somewhat equally torturous. 

So last night I went to Exclusive and quickly read the last page which was a bit of an anti-climax. 

Overall, the book is amazing and I can't wait to watch the movie although I read that it is terrible.  

"To understand just one life, you have to swallow the world.” 

Little Texts!

Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless

Cynthia Rylant, Missing May

Jonathan Safran Foer

It is pretty clear from my blog, my room, my phone, my diary and just about anywhere that I can scribble that I love quotes.

Little bite-size chunks of ooh-that's-cool.

So when I found this Tumblr I just fell in love. 

Gore Vidal

"We learn nothing because we remember nothing." 

The Good Earth

The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive.

To him... a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create so that
without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, his very breath is cut off from him.

He must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency he is not really alive unless he is creating.

Pearl S. Buck