Tuesday, April 8, 2008

My book group tonight: we've been meeting almost regularly
since 1991, and three of the original members are still members.
We discussed The Beautiful Things That Heaven Bears
by Dinaw Mengestu, about an Ethiopian immigrant
living in a run-down neighborhood of DC.
A quiet book, gently eloquent. The tragedy that is
the protagonist's life eases itself in, no fanfare,
no bells or whistles. Recommended.
We dined at Shanghai Garden on 6th in the ID -- OMG go there
(if you live in Seattle) and order ANYTHING with the green barley
hand-shaved noodles. Spectacular: bright green,
tossed with yellow scrambled egg and orange carrots
and snow peas and bok choy and mushrooms. Not to be missed!
New book: The Inheritance of Loss.
And then Sex Wars by Marge Piercy.
It's National Poetry Month (NaPoMo)and I'm reading fiction
like a damn fiend. I'm renaming it NaFicMo.
(There must be something wrong with me.)
Last night I finished the magnificent The Story of Lucy Gault,
by William Trevor. Heartbreaking, evocative, with a complicated
sentence structure that seems to wind around and through itself.
Highly recommended.

Now this is ridiculous: imagine hosting a dinner to a dozen pre-teen
Fundamentalist Christian boys and girls. You are trying
to make macaroni and cheese (from scratch). Everywhere,
someone is in your way, the water won't boil for the pasta,
no cheese grater. When you finally put dinner on the table
it's ten o'clock and all the children have fallen asleep
with their faces in their plates. You wake them up!
Eat, children! Afterwards, they all get in
an enormous bathtub together. You're a bit concerned
with the nudity and close proximity of wet bodies, etc.,
in light of their conservative natures
but when you start handing them towels
you realize that they are all still wearing their underwear.
Then.....you wake up from this dream,it's 3am, and when you finally
drift off again, just before 4, there it all is once more,
except this time you're watching it on super-8 film,
the projector making that little click-click-click sound.
(note to Mr. Pereira: you and D. were also guests at this dinner....)

1 comment:

  1. T: Uh-oh! We were at Rosanne's Eliott Bay reading last night: plenty of naked bodies there, too. Mostly older women. No hot tub. ~grin~