Grace Notes @ Snarkattack

More Beatrix Potter delight! I don’t necessarily know that this was Samuel Whiskers’ tale as it seemed to have lots of cats in it. Notable moment included poor dear Tom Kitten nearly being turned into kitten dumpling to be gobbled up, and also getting ’smuts’ (chimney ash) all about him. Of course he gets saved, which is the important thing!

I don’t have many of the Potter books to go…I’ll feel a bit lost once I finish them all. I’m really glad that Tom Kitten reappeared. Peter Rabbit appears in other tales too.

(it’s not essential but you might want to read part #1 of this here, and part #2 of it here)

Beirut, March of the Zapotec and the Realpeople Holland

Zach Condon’s Balkan gypsy stylings returns! With added ambient electronica! I can’t really fault it.

Explosions in the Sky, The Earth Is A Cold, Dead Place

A girl I’m no longer friends with suggested this album to me and I guess it’s my first proper indoctrination into post-rock. This is a gorgeous album to have playing really late at night when you’re feeling slightly lonely. Ideally, I’d like to be lying on my bed, next to someone I consider close, and we’d just be looking at the ceiling, not talking, and just listening to this album. Good music after all is best shared with good friends.

I struggled greatly with this book. I’m not sure why I read the first two thirds so quickly, because I did actually find it quite disturbing: nearly all the main protagonists are wicked, miserable people. A lot of their misery is of their own making and for this reason, it’s hard to look upon them in a sympathetic manner. The last third or so I really had to push through.

I don’t get the aura of Byronic hero around Heathcliff. Were it not for Mr Darcy’s social standing, I would that it would be more appropriate for Darcy (of Pride and Prejudice fame). Cathy I find equally unlikable as a supposed heroine.

Interestingly, I think Brontë predates or rather anticipates Ibsenian (and then Zolaesque) naturalism in that the sins, afflictions and pecadilloes of the parents are visited upon their progeny. Yet again another reason why this classic was not overly enjoyable.

Make no mistake though: Brontë is an astute observer and chronicler of human nature – interesting given that she was quite reclusive. Characters like Joseph are so vivid and believable. It’s worth reading, but probably not unless you’re in the mood for it. I think of it as a bleak, wintry read.

I am desperately trying not to start new books, but rather finish the ones I do have in progress. Very hard given that my mind is racing and wanting to fill itself with new ideas at the moment (poststructuralist book, I’m looking at you).

After reading a bit of Wuthering Heights, decided to wind down with another delightful Beatrix Potter tale. This one is an extension of the nursery rhyme ‘To market, to market / to buy a fat pig! / Home again, home again / jiggety-jig!’ and quite enjoyable, though it does make one a little sad at the thought that these adorable piglets could end up as bacon – for example, when the farmer pinches Pigling Bland in the ribs to see if he’s ‘ready’.

Interestingly, Beatrix herself is also present in the story. It is obvious that for all of the stories I’ve read thus far (I’m about halfway through the complete box now), that she is the narrator, but in this one, she is part of the action, so to speak.

I tell you, I’ve never seen anything quite so adorable as pigs being drawn running on their trotters! Very, very cute.

Last month or so has seen me well productive! Have been writing and reading like a demon.

A couple of days ago, I sent a fresh poem to my online chum @gabfran who keeps a terrific blog called Law and Shoes. Sure, I might be biased as to why I think it’s a good blog, but let me try to persuade you otherwise:

1. it’s a themed blog – this lady loves shoes.
2. oddly enough, we garner personal history through her relationship with the various pairs of shoes she owns
3. she frequently has guests posting about their shoes

Themed blogs, and hers is definite inspiration, is one of the reasons I decided to start writing mini-reviews on books I read this year.

When I woke up yesterday, I found that she did me the honour of posting my greenstick poem (which has a good lack of shoes in it) on her blog. I very rarely post my own work here so I must confess it was quite a nice surprise.

I’d love to know what you all think. I’ve started editing it, so in my mind, the ‘more definitive’ version looks a little different to what is there.

Also, it’s still in baby stages but two of my closest friends and myself have started a food review blog called Eat, Drink, Stagger. It thus made my day when The Local Taphouse featured my newbie Ale Star post on their blog. Makes me wish I took better pictures of the beer bottles! But, no matter, from here on it’s nothing but improvement.

Grant at FoodStuffMelb was kind enough to do a shout-out (cheers, we’ll be adding FoodStuffMelb blog to our blogroll as soon as we get that sorted!) for us. Grant was a chef in a former life, and occasionally reviews eateries in Melbourne. I like his blog because even though he has ties to the food industry, he is warm and approachable. I’ve pestered him with my blog comments and he always responds.

So yeah, if you’re looking for some good, theme-focussed reading, there’s some suggestions!

It was a bit of a whim to get this: a gorgeous and far-too-trendy-for-me blog I read did a feature on this and I knew I just had to have a copy. It was quite a while before it became available, and when it did, I snapped up a subscription.
Remedy Quarterly is inspired by a time contemporaneous to my parents’ time – when your mum had daggy but inexplicably alluring collections of recipe index cards and cookbooks accidentally kept from your local library (well, my mother has late 70s-early 80s cookbooks that look like they were from our local English library! oops!). I don’t know what it is about those damned cards that fascinate me so – they looked so exotic (though in hindsight, they aren’t at all), even though they are not necessarily things I would ever make for myself.

I admit it, RQ is trendy, but it’s also gorgeous. There are heartwarming stories and recipes. All of the recipes published have a personal history attached to them. Don’t think I’ll be making curry turkey anytime soon (too hard for me!) but am so going to try corned beef pie, and the chilli. Mmm.

I know the publication is US-centric, and for that reason, some of the ingredients I found confusing. What I’d give to have a Melbourne-centric issue as a special!

My favourite piece was about the Barbados-born crossing guard. He sounds like such a warm man, chatting to the locals, and giving one of the contributors some ingredients for old-school remedies. It’s also a wonderful reminder that community spirit is not dead, at least not in some parts of the world.

Ravenously read through this fantastic first issue, and look forward to the next three issues of my subscription. I do feel spoilt.

It has inspired me to ask my mother if she has those gloriously outdated recipe cards. They seem appealing to me, all of a sudden. I’ll post some pictures if I unearth them, pretty sure they made the trip from England to here.

This isn’t the most recent issue but I’m carefully working through a backlog of (excellent) Australian periodicals and Heat 19 was one on my nightstand.

It begins with some sad reading – Judith Beveridge recalls her close friend Dorothy Porter, who sadly passed away due to complications with breast cancer last year. Porter is one of Australia’s best known female contemporary poets, and sought bring attention to the verse novel form. She’s probably best known in the non-poetry public for The Monkey’s Mask, which was adapted for film.

The anthology stands at 200+ pages but I devoured it greedily, over half of it last night. There is a subtle thematic undercurrent that links all the contributions. If I had to pick my favourite, it would Jasmine Chan’s poem ‘Tyrant’. Honorable mention to Tim Thorne’s ‘Easy Sushi in 7′ for making me crave Japanese something chronic!

So yes, if I had the money, I’d be subscribing to Heat, and definitely recommend it. It’s a beautiful publication.

Ever since I listened to a New Yorker podcast about poutine, I’d been craving it something chronic. I know it sounds disgusting – chips with gravy on top and mixed with cheese curds!

Apparently it’s something of a favourite amongst Canadians after a bit of a good ol’ binge drinking session, bit of a craved fast food delight.

The time came to try and recreate this culinary behemoth.

First, you have to make cheese curds. Get a 2 litre bottle of full cream milk and pour into a saucepan. Heat till it begins to form a skin – it’s very important not to let it boil.

Next, you add a fluid ounce or 60mLs or so of white vinegar into the mixture. It will immediately start to curdle (yea!). If less of the vinegar is needed, don’t fret, just put as much as you need for curdling to begin. After that, you need to squeeze out all the liquid – you can do this by putting it in a clean teatowel or cheesecloth and making it form a ball. Then, rub some salt into the drier curds before wrapping up again.

This needs to be weight-compressed overnight. My weight compression was very makeshift (plates, six-pack of beer)!

Next day, bought two large serves of chips from KFC (these are perfect because you need the chips to have crunch on the outside, but be soft in the middle). Crumble the cheese curds on top and then pour hot gravy (we just used a sachet of Masterfood lamb and rosemary instant gravy) over the top.

Some notes: needs more salt on the curds and we’ve got to get them squeaking. Also, have to get the gravy steaming hot so those bad-boy curds will melt! But overall, I think it was a success for a first go!

I hadn’t heard of Fanny Hill till I saw it at a bookshop and read the blurb – it sounded pretty raunchy, so I bought it. It’s actually listed in Boxall’s book of 1001 books to read before you die.

It’s almost a guilty pleasure reading it – it is so entertaining and I just gobbled it up. Normally books on revered lists are a bit of a chore to read, I admit it. This one, not so. A country lass comes to the city and finds that she must support herself. She is initially taken in by a lady who basically tells her she has to put out, or get out. Knowing nothing of sexual delights, an older, more experienced girl shows her…

Thus begins Fanny’s memoirs: lots of physical love, lots of perving, a bit of spanking, a dash of homosexual love, and there’s even time for a happy ending when Fanny isn’t telling us about the encounters she has with ‘ivory maypoles’. Giggle.

Yeah, of course I loved it.

I got this for my partner for Christmas and I figure if he’s not going to read it, then I’m perfectly happy to dip into it every now and then.

T. S. Eliot, while being one of the most famous exponents of Anglo-American modernist literature, is ripping good fun in this small volume of poems about cats. When I read these poems, I feel like Eliot just gets cats. I chuckle with all the wonder of a child at rereading them.

This version which seemed to be new is illustrated by Axel Scheffler. If you’ve never read Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats, then definitely seek out an illustrated edition. These poems also form the basis of the musical Cats. Again, this is another book that seems meant for children, but is equally fabulous for grown-ups.

I did so much in 2009, and I’m a bit ashamed that I didn’t really blog much. I’m especially ashamed I don’t really have a record of it (as previous readers will know, having a record of what I do helps me a lot when I’m ill – to remember what I did, and when). So this is my attempt to redeem that, especially as now, seeing films is something I’m in the habit of doing.

Last night, I went to see Bright Star in Carlton, not far from my old uni. Very briefly, it focusses on the love affair between Fanny Brawne and the celebrated English poet John Keats.

Much to the disapproval of Keats’ best friend and colleague Brown, Brawne and Keats meet and become quite attracted to one another. It isn’t exactly welcomed on Brawne’s side either – she is very well-to-do and is expected to marry someone worthy of her social rank and standing. Her heart has other ideas.

I don’t want to give too much away, so I’ll just state what how I found the film to be. It is rather slow and somewhat stilted in parts, particularly in the first half. It is gorgeous to look at – the costumes, the countryside and such, but comes off as a bit clinical. Ben Whishaw as Keats is far warmer than Abbie Cornish as Brawne. The chemistry is not always convincing. What is more convincing is the family Brawne – the siblings and mother seem to love each other dearly and are very close. Also, amazing to think that Whishaw played a psychopath in the ghoulish but brilliant Perfume: The Story of a Murderer.

Though I am not sure how true to historical fact this film is, Brawne and her mother really do have a wonderful, loving relationship and this is evidenced in how she eventually gives her daughter her blessing to take a man under her social class, despite how shocking this might have been at the time. I was drawn to it due to my (bleeding obvious) interest in poetry, and it might just force me to pull out my copy of the collected Keats. Might…

More Neil Gaiman, more Dave McKean. It took me a while to fully embrace the grim world of a boy remembering his childhood spent in Portsmouth – at first it seemed slow-paced, and the art is schizophrenic, and very, very creepy.

What I like best about The Tragical Comedy or Comical Tragedy of Mr Punch is that it focusses on what must seem to be an innate fear we all have – what on earth is it about fairgrounds and carnivals that we all find so sinister? I actually spent my summers in Portsmouth when my family still lived in England, and I was terrified of the carousel. I was scared of the actual ride, it being so high and so fast, and also of getting lost and being separated from my parents. I didn’t often have separational anxiety, so even today this strikes me as odd.

In any case, McKean and Gaiman do a fab job of tapping into this almost primal fear. One cannot help but wonder how much of Gaiman’s childhood is in Mr Punch.

I was one of those poor sots who didn’t get to read the Beatrix Potter books as a child. I guess once I could read my parents figured there was no point reading them to me. Recently, my mother purchased two sets of the entire series – one to give to my future nephew, and one to give to their in-laws’ newborn.

To say I was gutted was an understatement. I promptly threw the closest thing I could muster to a tantrum and one set was given to me. I read them in bed when I cannot sleep and my mind has tired of Grown Up Stuff.

The Tale of Mr Tod is not one of the most delightful in the series – it is very long and is about two cruel animals seeking to prey upon even cuter animals (I confess I find it hard to see badgers and foxes as evil – just think The Wind In the Willows or Fantastic Mr Fox).

However, I can recommend Potter’s oeuvre. I’ve been harping on about how delightful these illustrated gems are, and reading them brings back a child-like joy I forgot I had a capacity for.

Beginning my personal quest to read 75 books this year, 5 of which must be from the ‘1001 Books To Read Before You Die’, and 10 of which must be from the ‘Novel 100′ lists, we have 2010’s first casualty.

I’ve read three issues of Torpedo cover to cover and fucking loved it. Odd given that I am very fussy about my short fiction. Chris Flynn, the editor, is doing a stellar job with this periodical. I need to get off my arse and subscribe.

The periodical is Melbourne-based and is just beautiful – the layout, fonts, submissions chosen. My favourite comics in this was ‘Johnny Three NNNs’ – a piss-take on the pulpy 50s Western adventure epics. Think cowboys on acid. The comic is split up into sections and interlaced between several other stories and comics.

I might an adult now, and in some ways might be considered (by others, not necessarily myself) to have surpassed my parents. I remember that Z once said to me, and he said it full of sorrow for me (which was rare for him, being very steely), that he felt sorry for children who were smarter or more educated than their parents. At first I was angry at him saying that (both his parents being academics and so less of a problem for him) but I knew what he meant.

My father was responsible for teaching me how to read, and for as long as I can remember, if I asked him to explain something to me, he would do so. You can only imagine how frustrating I might have been as a child. My father, in many ways, gave me the keys to the world, or a world I came to adore: the literary.

Fast forward to now, where I am a woman of thirty. I open my Christmas card and read my parents’ messages to me. I read my father’s first.

My father spelled the word ‘opulence’ incorrectly. It brought a tear to my eye. Yet another reminder that my father did not know all, and would not necessarily be able to answer all my questions.

It may seem trivial to you all, but my heart broke just that bit more.

My aim was to read fifty books this year. It’s always a bit of a struggle come December (I did it last year too)!

Thought I might do a ‘breakdown’ of the list, which can be found here:

teenage fiction/vampire literature
Stephanie Meyer, Twilight
Stephanie Meyer, New Moon
Stephanie Meyer, Eclipse
Stephanie Meyer, Breaking Dawn

poetry/verse novel
Jeanine Hall Gailey, Becoming the Villainess (USA)
Jordie Albiston, Vertigo: a cantata (Aus)
Dorothy Porter, Akhenaten (Aus)
Carol Ann Duffy, Selected Poems (UK)
Lawrence Ferlinghetti, A Far Rockaway of the Heart (USA)
Short and Sweet: 101 Very Short Poems edited by Simon Armitage (various, Armitage is from the UK)
Judith Rodriguez, Mudcrab at Gambaro’s (Aus)
Philip Larkin, Collected Poems (UK)
Anne Sexton, Transformations (USA)
Camille Paglia, Break, Blow, Burn (various, Paglia is from USA)
Jane Holland, Boudicca and Co. (UK)
Sascha Aurora Akhtar, The Grimoire of Grimalkin (UK)
Dorothy Porter, Crete (Aus)
Sallie Muirden, The Fable of Arachne (Aus)

non-fiction/biographical
Felix Feneon, Novels In Three Lines
Deborah Curtis, Touching From A Distance
Alison Bechdel, Fun Home

periodicals/literary magazines & journals
Torpedo magazine, vol 4 (Aus, Melb)
Wet Ink journal, vol 14 (Aus, Adelaide)
Overland journal, issue 195 (Aus, Melb)
Wet Ink journal, vol 15
Going Down Swinging journal, vol 28 (Aus, Melb)
Capgun magazine, vol 1 (USA, thisrecording.com)
Overland journal, issue 196
McSweeney’s 22: The Poetry Chains of Dominic Luxford (USA, SF)
Ampersand magazine, edition 0 (Aus, Melb)
McSweeney’s 22: The State of Constraint
Torpedo magazine, vol 5
Island magazine, vol 119 (Aus, Tas)
McSweeney’s 22:From the Notebook
Wet Ink, journal, vol 16
Blue Dog journal, vol 4 no 8 (Aus, Melb)

visual/comic art
Neil Gaiman, Amanda Palmer, Kyle Cassidy et al, Who Killed Amanda Palmer
R Stevens, Crush All Hu-Mans
Marc Ellerby, Chloe Noonan, Monster Hunter
Gris Grimly, Edgar Allen Poe’s Tales of Death and Dementia
Neil Gaiman, Sunbird
Ragnarok, vols 6 & 7
Jeff Smith & Charles Vess, Rose
Bill Willingham et al. Jack of Fables vol 3
Alison Bechdel, Fun Home
Bill Willingham et al. Fables vol 11: War and Pieces
Marvel Illustrated: Pride and Prejudice, adapted by Nancy Butler.
Alan Moore & Kevin O’Neill, League of Extraordinary Gentlemen: Century 1910
Nicholas Gurewitch, The Perry Bible Fellowship Almanack
Porn For Women

classics/literature
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
Gris Grimly, Edgar Allen Poe’s Tales of Death and Dementia
Marvel Illustrated: Pride and Prejudice, adapted by Nancy Butler
Beatrix Potter, The Tale of Peter Rabbit
Beatrix Potter, The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin
Beatrix Potter, The Tailor of Gloucester
Beatrix Potter, The Tale of Benjamin Bunny
Beatrix Potter, The Tale of Jeremy Fisher
Beatrix Potter, The Tale of Tom Kitten
Beatrix Potter, The Tale of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle
Beatrix Potter, The Tale of Two Bad Mice
Beatrix Potter, The Tale of Jemima Puddle-duck
Beatrix Potter, The Tale of The Flopsy Bunnies
Beatrix Potter, The Tale of Mrs Tittlemouse
Beatrix Potter, The Tale of Timmy Tiptoes
Beatrix Potter, The Tale of Johnny Town-Mouse
Beatrix Potter. The Tailor of Gloucester

fiction
Tracy Chevalier, Fallen Angels
Phillippa Gregory, The Other Boleyn Girl
Neil Gaiman, Sunbird

theatre/play
Edward Albee, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

I stuffed up on the list, recounted one of the Beatrix Potter books but can’t be bothered reopening thread and editing. So total for 2009 stands at 67.

This year, I’ll try to do mini-reviews of the books I read and post them here. Let’s see how it goes!