Small World

Let me rave about a book that I haven’t been able to part with for overly two months. I came to the library and asked for something uplifting but challenging and the result was the introduction to the world of David Lodge’s novels. I started with “Changing Places” and ended up reading everything available there.

His trilogy of academic satires captured my attention partially because of its subject – the world of literature, language and literary scholars are familiar to me. Among the trilogy “Small World” became my absolute favorite.

It is a second book of the trilogy with “Changing Places”, being the first and”Nice Work” - the last. A person who recommended me the author said: “He is one of the most intelligent contemporary writers” and I couldn’t agree more. It isn’t that he is a scholar himself – he was an English professor before devoting himself fully to writing, but the way he weaves references, allusions, quotations into his texts.

And the plot, the plot of this book is done so interestingly. Essentially it is a blue print of a soap opera populated with people from an academic field - a soap opera in disguise of a serious read. So what we have is a masterful mix of melodrama, suspense, elements of a fair tale, adventure, exalted emotions, sexual liaisons and philosophical discussions on the nature of text and literature in general. You are so caught in the twists and turns of the plot or, better say interconnected plots, and its numerous characters that you realize that you have been fooled only at the end of the novel. Brilliant!

It is incredibly entertaining and certainly demands a second reading in order to catch some references, fleeting comments and such. The man referenced even himself along with Oscar Wilde, Shakespeare and the Grail Quest. How neat is that?

On Reading Mark Twain with the Kids

After reading first five chapters of “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer”, my son announced, “Tom is exactly like Bart Simpson.” Seeing my horrified face he hurried to elaborate, “Like Bart, Tom tricks people into doing things for him, he always gets into trouble, and most of the time manages to escape punishment, he thinks that school is boring, and he likes this little girl...”

After getting over initial shock I begin to see the similarities.

Cold

For two weeks straight I have been battling some strange cold. It came first with fever headache, and general feeling of being not well. After five days it got better and I even went outside, the weather was so great it was shame to miss it. The photo on the left is from one of those sunny days. On the fourth day of my gradually feeling better I was hit by the second round of a cold, which culminated in me loosing my voice. Considering that the kids are at home on the spring break we have an interesting communication – I whisper and they, without even realizing it, whisper back. One of their friends came over for a sleepover and started to do the same. It reminded me of an old rule of the teachers - if you want to be heard, lower your voice. Funny as it sounds, it always worked well in the classroom.
During the first phase of my cold I read all six books of Harry Potter (we haven’t bought the seventh one yet), so my night dreams were filled with wizards, death eaters, dragons, and such. Then I add to this mix “The Lightening Thief”, which features the adventure of a young boy, who happens to be the son of Poseidon, and my dreams were inhabited by Greek gods and heroes. I never noticed before such direct connection between my readings and dreaming, perhaps I should use it to my advantage and try to manipulate my dreams.
One other book brought a beautiful surprise – a forgotten poem. It was a translation from Russian, which often disguise poems to the point of non recognition. This time the recognition was instant, no hesitation.

Insomnia. Homer. Taut sails.
I’ve read to the middle of the list of ships:
the strung-out flock, the steam of cranes
that once rose above Hellas.

Flight of cranes crossing strange borders,
leaders drenched with the foam of the gods,
where are you sailing? What would Troy be
to you, men of Achaea, without Helen?