Trying to decide which book I’m going to take to Tasmania with me has been seriously perplexing. As you can see, the clutter of books next to my bed is a little out of control at the moment. Favourites read this week would have to be Lloyd Jones‘ Mr Pip for adult fiction and James Roy‘s Captain Mack for juicy junior fiction
A lot of the books in these stacks are ones I read ages ago, but seem to have taken up permanent residence on my bedside table. The worst offenders are the collections of short stories or essays. I tend to have a bash at them, read all the stories that are immediately appealing and then leave the book beside the bed in the hope that I’ll eventually get through the entire collection. There’s a couple of anthologies of poetry loitering as well, which are the sort of thing you want to read and re-read over and over again, hence the permanent bedside residency.
Favourite essay of the week is definitely the title essay in Mary Gordon‘s Good Boys and Dead Girls.
It’s been fantastic to reread Selma Fraiberg’s The Magic Years. I first read this book when my children were small, loved it, loaned it to a friend and eventually lost it. (As is the way with the books we love most). A couple of weeks ago, I was stoked to come across a second-hand copy in an op-shop. It’s a book that will never date and now that the next generation of babies are coming into my life, it’s good to revisit Fraiberg’s take on the wonderful ways in which small children perceive the world.
This is the problem with not blogging for a while. When you get back into it, there are too many good books to talk about.
Just for the curious – other titles that you might not be able to make out from the picture include Socialism is Great, Lija Zhang’s funky autobiography about coming of age in 1980s China; Neil Gaiman’s short story collection Fragile Things; John Raulston Saul’s The Doubter’s Companion; and the sweetest title of them all, Russell Hoban’s Bedtime for Frances. (Definitely my top recommendation for insomniacs, like me).