Yarn Along! November 30, 2011 edition

I hope that you all had very happy Thanksgivings (at least all of you Americans -- if you live in Canada, I hope your October Thanksgiving was equally as merry), and that you're all avoiding the holiday stress!  David and I are banging out our shopping, a little each night (I love Amazon.com and Shutterfly, just have to say).  And the Christmas knitting, of course, continues...I really need to get a better grip on it.  Each day I look at the stash and think "I could totally pull that off in the remaining few days..."

My friend Jess holds an annual Yule party (since we are all of different religions, and not all of our friends necessarily celebrate the traditional "Christmas"), and this year, it's on December 10th, which means that I have much less time than usual for knitting.  I'm working on each gift a little at a time, to avoid burnout.  Although I can hardly feel burned out when I'm working with such gorgeous yarns as these!

On the left is the first of a pair of fingerless mitts (my own "pattern", if you can call it that -- I work it over 40 stitches, 1x1 ribbing for the wrists and then simple stockinette, with an afterthought thumb and probably 1x1 ribbing for the top -- thrilling, I know).  The yarn is gorgeous Manos del Uruguay Silk Blend in "dove" -- I used it for a hat earlier this year, if it looks familiar.  The needles (for those who care) are US 4 dpns.

On the right is my favorite yarn probably of all time -- Trabajos del Peru in "9" (thrilling name).  I'm making it into a winter hat for a very dear male friend of mine and David's who helped me through a tough spot this past year and deserves a soft winter hat.  I hope he likes it (and that he isn't peeking at this page).  Again, simple pattern -- US 8 circular, 2x2 rib, stockinette to the decreases.  

This will be part of Ginny's Yarn Along, and it wouldn't be without reference to the book I'm reading (sadly, not included in the picture).  I'm in the middle of Janet Fitch's White Oleander (reread) and enjoying it as much now as I did the first time I read it.

Happy knitting!

Three book reviews (because I really can't be bothered right now)

I'm telling you, I'm super sick of these book reviews (this is mainly because I've been knitting more and I could really not care less about the reviews now).  I remember all the way back in January, when I got so excited and really put thought into my reviews...and now it's December, I've read 89 books (11 from my goal!) and I just Do Not Care anymore.  I am so far behind in my book reviews now that I'm going to be doing THREE in one entry today...and that's okay.  Because I make the rules on this blog.

Review: Henry's Blog by Elizabeth Newbery (#87)

 My little sister just came back from a week-long, whirlwind tour of London, England, and brought me back this gem -- Henry's Blog: My Life in My Own Words, OBVS! by Elizabeth Newbery, found in the Tower of London gift shop.  It was meant as a gag gift, and I read it in one night.  Henry's Blog is an extremely short book, written in cyber-speak and blog form, through the eyes of King Henry VIII.  I still can't decide how I feel about it.  The humorist side of me thinks that it's hilarious (and so does everyone else who has read this, including my father) -- the idea of Henry giving his wives cyber-like nicknames (KatyA for Katharine of Aragon, AnnieB for Anne Boleyn and so forth) and talking himself up constantly.  The history major side of me weeps with the idea that kids will read this (it is obviously written for a young adult or teenager).  I went back and forth wondering if I should even count this is one of my books for the year.  But then something HUGE happened.  David read it.  Read a book.  All the way through.  And ENJOYED IT.  Clearly, that cemented it.  I have to give Henry's Blog a good solid three-star rating, simply for the hilarity factor, and readability (did I mention that my husband read it?  A real book?  Go figure!)

Rating: ***

Review: Knitting Rules! by Stephanie Pearl McPhee (#88)

This is my second Stephanie Pearl McPhee (otherwise known as the Yarn Harlot) book of the year -- I read The Secret Life of a Knitter back in January -- and I have to say, I enjoyed Knitting Rules! much more than Secret Life.  The Yarn Harlot is known as a "knitting humorist", but Knitting Rules! is equal parts funny and useful.  I've read it before, and I look at the big as one big pep talk for the anxious knitter, the one who is afraid to try new things, to pick up a skein of yarn and some needles and just go for it.  The Yarn Harlot's handy rudimentary sock pattern is also included with step-by-step (no pun intended) instructions -- a great tool for those knitters who are learning to knit socks for the first time.  I can't tell you how many times I've gone back over the pages when I've needed a little encouragement.  I recommend it to anyone who is interested in learning how to knit, or who could use a little boost every now and then, a reminder that "in the end, it's just knitting."

Rating: ****

Review: The House of Special Purpose by Colin Falconer

Every so often (usually when I'm broke) I find myself perusing the "free Kindle books" link on Amazon.com.  The other day, this book caught my eye, because as a child I was obsessed with anything and everything to do with the Russian Revolution and the fate of the Romanov family.  "The House of Special Purpose" was the name given to the Ipatiev house in Ekatrinburg where the Romanovs spent their final days before they were executed.  Falconer wrote The House of Special Purpose as a prequel of sorts to his book Anastacia, a sort of "what if" about the fictional destiny of the most famous of the Romanov children, Anastasia Nicholievna.  It's tagline is "How was it possible for any of the children to have survived?  You won't believe the answer; except it's all true."

I don't know what I was hoping for, but this book was not it.  It was a chronicle of the last days of the Romanov family as seen through the eyes of Anastasia and some of the guards employed to imprison the family.  Falconer takes every negative story about Anastasia and makes her about the least sympathetic character in literature -- even her fiestiness seems petulant, cruel, and childish.  There are some vaguely pornographic descriptions and a scene of female rape (without historical accuracy' the author conjured it up himself, which just lead me to be disgusted and disturbed). The novella also suffers from supreme historical inaccuracy.  The cook, Kharitonov, is described as female, yet his real name was Ivan Kharitonov, and he was decidedly male.  Also, *SPOILER ALERT* the elephant in the room was the fact that in 2007 it was proved that none of the Romanov children survived the execution -- the remains of the missing two were discovered at last.  I wouldn't have been surprised with a novella such as this before 2007, but it was published in September of 2011.  

My final "beef" (if you could call it that) with this book was the tired theme, the implausible escape of Anastasia (or another Romanov child).  It's been done before.  It was done by the mysterious Anna Anderson and countless others in the 20th century.  There was a movie made with Ingrid Bergman and the Don Bluth animated film (which I must confess is one of my favorites, even though it's nonsense).  With great writing, it might have been pulled off, but the story has been done.  Time to move on to something else. 

Rating: *

GSYB Update: Thanksgiving Edition

I've unfortunately left my book in the car, so I won't be participating in Yarn Along today.  I also can't show any of the other knitting I'm doing (trust me, there's a lot) because it's all for Christmas or Yule, whichever the intended recipient celebrates.  So you get a Giant Sock Yarn Blanket update.  Aren't you excited?

Even if you aren't, I am!  Because I can no longer sit down at my desk to take a picture of this thing.  It's getting too big.  Sorry about the crappy cell phone quality and the messy desk.  It's Thanksgiving week, what more do you want of me?

(Incidentally, in case anyone cares, the book I'm reading is Time and Chance by Sharon Kay Penman, which is good thus far (about 20 pages in) but which I completely reserve the right to abandon., at least for the foreseeable future. I've 13 books left to read to reach 100 (I still have to blog one) and time is running short.  It's already November 23rd.  Eek.

There will be very little time for either reading or knitting today.  I'm going to my parents' house after work, for our traditional pie baking while listening to Christmas music (David is coming, but intends to nap, since he had to get up at an ungodly hour this morning for work).  Baking will be followed by a dinner of my mom's fried dough, and then we'll be off to Massachusetts to spend Thanksgiving with my in-laws tomorrow.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours :)

Going back to college!

Gather round, kiddos, it's story time!  (Sort of)

I was in a major car accident in August of 2005 (believe it or not, this is relevant).  I broke my pelvis in three places, fractured some ribs, and busted up the right side of my face pretty badly.  Six months later, after recovery and plastic surgery, I started graduate school.

Well, chickies, it wasn't a good time for me to be starting anything, other than putting my life in order.  Unbeknownst to me at the time, I was suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder and generalized anxiety disorder.  I was having trouble concentrating, I stayed up for days on end with insomnia, I had five or six anxiety attacks a day, and some days, I had trouble leaving my own apartment due to fear.  Finally, in 2008, I started taking medication and seeing a therapist.  By that time, unfortunately, my grades were sliding fast and I was in rough shape.  After Spring semester 2009, I took a medical withdrawal from college until I could fix my life.

A lot has happened in the two and a half years since then.  I got engaged, got married, increased my job to a full-time position, moved into a better apartment, switched medications about six times until I found one that worked, got a new therapist who is just plain awesome in so many ways, and got myself back on track.  In May of this year, I applied for re-admission to the M.A. program at my university.  Due to misunderstandings, missing records, and a ton of other crap, this took six months to sort out.

BUT.  There's a happy ending (I think), because as of yesterday, I am once again a student of the M.A. program.  I'll start coursework in January of 2012 as a part-time student (because I'm working full-time, and the last time I tried to juggle both full time work and full time school I mucked it up pretty badly), and we'll see how it goes.

I'm scared to death, but I'm excited too.  I never planned to drop out of college and never go back.  I'm finally going to finish.

Review: The Lion In Winter By John Goldman

The second play I read recently, and book 86 for the year, was The Lion In Winter by John Goldman.  I have seen the movie starring Katherine Hepburn and Peter O'Toole about 100 times, it is one of my favorites, and I finally knuckled down and read the play last week.

The Lion In Winter takes place at the twilight of the reign of King Henry II, the first Plantagenet king of England, at a fictitious Christmas court held in Chinon, English-occupied France, in 1183.  Henry has recently buried his eldest son and heir, Henry the Young King, and at age 50, with death encroaching upon him, he must make the decision of who among his remaining three sons should succeed him as king.  There is Richard the Lionheart, the eldest, cold, ruthless, and distant -- a splendid fighter who hates his father Henry as much as he favors his mother.  Second in line is Geoffrey, Duke of Brittany, a capricious schemer who resents his middle-child status.  Finally, there is John, who at sixteen is Henry's favorite, a stupid, spoiled, rapacious youth.  Thrown into the mix is the boys' mother, Eleanor of Aquitaine, dungeoned up for the last ten years after daring to lead a revolution against Henry II, set free for the Christmas court to once again scheme and plot against Henry for the crime of loving others more than her, and Philip, King of France, who has come to settle accounts with Henry for taking his younger sister, Princess Alys, as a mistress instead of marrying her off to Richard as previous agreed.  The play takes the term "family dysfunction" to new heights as Henry battles in vain to keep his empire intact.

This is a play of little action, and all talk, same as the film.  Nothing happens in the film, except for one two-minute battle scene in the first 10 minutes.  After that, it's all talking, back-biting, scheming, and sarcasm.  But it is great.  Henry's interactions with his wife Eleanor are the best as they fight and tussle, hating and loving each other indiscriminately.  The boys are equally as entertaining, as sympathetic as they are vile.  The only character that I think is judged unfairly is Princess Alys, relegated to a sniveling complainer for the entirety of the play.  A fantastic piece of literature, which leaves me hankering to watch the movie.

Rating: ****

Exercising patience

Looking back now, I have been a knitter for eight years.  I learned how to knit when I was 20 years old, in my on-campus apartment junior year of undergrad.  One of my roommates taught me how to knit a garter stitch scarf.  That was all I knitted until 2008, when I finally learned how to purl and knit in the round and all sorts of other fancy tricks.  

I was definitely not the best student of knitting.  I decided (rather firmly, and like a lot of first-time knitters) that I was very much a scarf knitter, that I was happy doing that and nothing else (who the hell needs to learn how to purl anyway?) and I could live the rest of my life doing nothing but garter stitch. 

I was also ridiculously impatient.  It's a pattern that has been prevalent my entire life.  If I'm going to do something, I want to do it right, and I want to do it right the first time.  My first scarf was an agony of mistakes, simply because I tore it out about six or seven times in frustration before finally figuring out how to make the little loops stay on the needles and come out in some sort of pattern.  There were many projects that I abandoned, simply because I made a mistake somewhere, didn't realize it until about five or six rows later, and then gave up on it, because I didn't have the patience to "tink" (knit back) the rows to fix the mistake, and I knew I couldn't finish a project that had a huge glaring error in it.  If I did stick with the project, chances are I would rip the whole thing back to the beginning, preferring to start fresh rather than to tediously tink back until I got to the mistake, and fix it again.

In my rush to finish my Christmas knitting, I have been working on three projects at once, trying to get them all done in time for the holidays.  Last night, while knitting one (in the car on the way home from visiting my ILs), I realized that I had put a yarn-over (and thus, a lace hole) in the wrong place in the object I was knitting.  I stuffed it back into my bag and fumed the rest of the way home.  I was over halfway done with the object, but I had made the mistake five rows back.  I could take the object off the needles and rip back, but this often leads to dropped or twisted stitches.  The only smart thing to do was to sit there and slowly, tediously, tink the whole thing back.

It took me awhile, but I managed it.  I tinked back to the mistake, re-knit the stitches, and kept going.  It lost me an hour or two, but in the end, it will be worth it, and the gift will look so much better for having gone through the trouble of fixing the mistakes.  Apparently, I'm finally starting to learn some patience, to learn that it's better to correct than to give up and tear everything out.  It's worth far more to fix something than to give up.

Make of that what you will.

Review: A Man For All Seasons by Richard Bolt

My sister Christina returned home from England in the wee hours of this morning, and during her vacation, I helped myself to two of the books in her ever-increasing stack of plays (my sister was a theatre student).  They were both on my "to-read" list, and now I have finished them both; they are #85 and #86 for 2011, both about English monarchs in very different times, and both very well-written IMO.  The first is A Man For All Seasons by Richard Bolt.

A Man For All Seasons is a play about the last few years in the life of Sir Thomas More, a lawyer, statesman, Chancellor of England, and after his death, a Roman Catholic saint and martyr.  An unlikely politician, More was promoted to the position of Chancellor of England at the insistence of King Henry VIII, towards the middle of his reign, around the time when he was angling for an annulment from his wife, Katherine of Aragon, in order to marry Anne Boleyn.  When More withheld his support for the annulment, on the grounds that the King had no right to break from the will of the Church of Rome, he provoked the King's displeasure, thus sealing his fate. 

More is a sympathetic character, a man who knows that he is doomed, yet is unable to sacrifice his conscience in order to save his life.  He is a celebrated character in many movies, books, and on television, yet he is generally a side character.  I thought that, in Seasons (having scene the 1966 film starring Paul Scofield as More), he was finally given a chance to shine in a starring role.  But in the play, this isn't the case.  More is once again relegated to a supporting character.  The "main character" in Seasons is the so-called "Common Man", who acts as narrator, manservant, rower, lawyer, judge, and executioner, all in one.  He has by far the most lines, and is the one who speeds the story along, so to speak.  He is noticeably absent in the film version.

The play is a bit dry in parts -- someone who isn't familiar with that period in history would be confused (I was the first time I saw the movie) -- and most of the supporting characters (the King, More's wife Alice) aren't portrayed in the best of lights.  Alice is relegated once again to a shrewish, sniveling woman, rather than the plain-speaking, yet loving wife she was known as.  More's relationship with his daughter Margaret is touched on, but only briefly -- his many other children are nonexistent.  I was also disappointed that his famous last words -- dying "the King's good servant, but God's first" -- are omitted from the play.

Yet, it is a well-written piece, and you can't help but admire Thomas More, whether Catholic, Protestant, or atheist, for his conscience and moral character.

Rating: ***

GSYB Progress Post #1

Just a brief post, because I'm up at my IL's for the weekend (heading home tonight for three days, then back up for Thanksgiving on Wednesday night!), but I wanted to post a picture of my progress on the Giant Sock Yarn Blanket.

 

This doesn't show the other squares that I have in my bag, finished, but this is the start!  So far, the yarns are (from left to right): Valley Farms Franklin Hand-Dyed in "Blueberry Cobbler", Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sock in "Frankenstein's Cotillion", Noro Silk Garden Sock in "112", Dream in Color Knitosophy in "Superhero", Noro Silk Garden Sock in "112", (ditto for the one above it), Lorna's Laces (discontinued yarn -- can't find the ball band), Blue Moon Fiber Arts Socks that Rock Mediumweight in "Rose Quartz", and again, Noro Silk Garden Sock in "112".

The going is slow, because I'm in the midst of holiday knitting so I pick up the blanket in my spare time.  I think I'm going to go for 12 squares per row, and see if that's big enough to suit me.  We'll see.

Review: Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck

I am two books behind in my reviews, so they're going to be quick and short (again, I'm losing interest for these, and I'm sure nobody else cares).  Of Mice and Men, by John Steinbeck, was one of those books that I never read in high school or college, but felt that I should read, and it was #1 on my "to-read" list for much of the past year.  I finally borrowed a copy from my father and read it in 24 hours.

Of Mice and Men is more a short story or a novella than a novel.  Two ranch hands head across California during the Great Depression, looking for work and dreaming of better things.  George Milton is wiry, alert, and thinks of nothing but the better life that could be his.  Lennie Small is a lumbering, slow-witted animal-lover who never means to hurt a fly, but doesn't know his own strength.  In a world where every man must live for himself, these two thrive on relying upon each other, ignoring the oncoming tragedy which, in the end, is inevitable.

My sister warned me that this is "a tough book", and she was correct.  Not the writing style, not the length, but the content.  As an animal lover, reading a book that involves the death of several small, helpless creatures was difficult at best, and made it harder for me to sympathize with poor, dim-witted Lennie or feisty, harsh-mouthed George.  There aren't many likable characters in Of Mice and Men; besides Lennie and George, there's Curley, the blustering son of the ranch owner; his nameless, skank-tastic wife; and various other ranch hands and workers who play minor parts in the book.  The only real character I felt any sympathy for was Candy, the elderly, handicapped ranch hand, who is forced to give up his best friend (his old dog), foreshadowing the events of the rest of the book.

I liked Steinbeck's writing style, and I think I'd read another of his books, but I doubt I'll be reading Of Mice and Men a second time.

Rating: ***

Yarn Along! (11/16/2011)

It's been a really long time since I've participated in a Yarn Along over on Ginny's blog.  But today I'm going to!  I've been rolling out the Christmas/Yule knitting, and I have some WIPs today that I'm photographing.

To the left, you see the ETERNAL socks that I've been working on for-freakin'-ever...but they are mere rows away from slapping a toe on them and being done done DONE.  The yarn is Blue Moon Fiber Arts Socks that Rock Lightweight in "Cattywhompus".  Knit on US 2 dpns, they are coming out far too small for my own size 9.5 feet...but they will be a Yule gift for a dear friend of mine who has tiny feet that they will fit.  I think she'll love the color scheme as well.

To the right is the humble beginnings of The Giant Sock Yarn Blankie.  There are five squares knit together, but I have two more in my bag that I've put on hold for now, since I'm doing the Christmas knitting.  I have several other gifts I have to do, so I'm doing pretty much a square a day or less for now.  But I discovered a whole bunch more of sock yarn in my stash, so I'm going to be knitting on this quite a lot, I think, over the next few months.  It never seems to get old.

As for my book, I'm reading A Man For All Seasons, by Robert Bolt.  It is a play about Saint Thomas More, the chancellor and statesman under Henry VIII, during the last few years of his life.  It's very good so far -- I'm almost halfway through -- and I'm thoroughly enjoying it.

Happy Hump Day!

Review: To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

I am quite behind on my reviews lately, but that's okay because I'm honestly losing interest.  Not in reading, but in reviewing the books I finish.  After the end of the year (and with it -- hopefully -- the end of the 100 books), I'll probably be stopping, unless the book is something of extreme interest.  And that's something else -- most of the books I'm reading now are short, snappy ones that almost everyone I know has read.  What else is there honestly to say about To Kill a Mockingbird, book # 84 for the year?

Jean Louise "Scout" Finch's whole world revolves around the little town of Maycomb, Alabama, and its dry-as-dust inhabitants: Miss Maudie Atkinson, the colorful gardener who is her main inspiration for becoming a lady; Arthur "Boo" Radley, a mysterious hermit whose malevolent presence has terrified Scout and her brother Jem since birth; and her beloved father, lawyer Atticus Finch, who is about the blow the town apart by agreeing to defend a Negro man accused of raping a teenage white girl.  As consequences pile up around them, and the little town is turned upside-down, Scout's eyes are opened, not only to the people around her, but to the state of the nation as a whole.

This is a book that almost every high school student in America reads at one point or another.  I myself read it as Summer Required Reading when I was going into my junior year of high school.  It is one of my favorite books, and I'm pretty sure I've memorized parts of it.  Is there anyone who has read this that doesn't love Atticus Finch?  The book is written from the POV of Scout, but this is Atticus' story, more than anyone else's, as he is the major protagonist (and causes much of the action).  A great story, and a must-read.

Rating: *****

The never-ending project

For some reason, summer always stunts my knitting mojo.  I stop knitting for months, and then, like clockwork, right as it gets cold, right before Christmas or so, something in me snaps and I suddenly am on the bring of frothing at the mouth over beautiful yarns, clicking needles, ambitious projects.  I do my best knitting in winter, right before the Christmas deadline (kind of like in high school where I wrote my best papers five hours before they were due).

Anyway.  I'm rambling.  Check this out:

Well, yay.  It's a square.

To be more precise, it's a mitered square (my first one, btw, which is why it looks a little lopsided and funky...though that may be because it has yet to be blocked), made from Noro Silk Garden Sock (color #252?  I think?  It's been awhile and I lost the tag), knit on US 3 dpn's.  

What is it going to be?  Can you guess?

Hopefully, one day, that little square will be part of this:  The Giant Sock Yarn Blankie.

Because I knit a lot of socks, I have a lot of sock yarn scraps.  I'm excited to make them all into the little mitered squares that make up this blanket.  It is going to take YEARS, I know.  That little square up there?  Is about 2 inches by 2 inches.  TINY.  But quick!  I made it in about an hour.  

So this isn't a project I can be monogamous with (sorry, Blankie).  It'll be something that I work on here and there, and hopefully (with any luck) complete one day.

On to square #2...

Review: Phantom by Susan Kay

Anyone who loves musical theatre knows the story (or the Andrew Lloyd Webber adaptation) of the Phantom of the Opera.  Lloyd Webber's musical sets to music Gaston Leroux's tragic novel of the horribly disfigured musical genius and architectural magician who hides in the wings of the Paris Opera House, determined to steer clear of human beings forever, until he meets the beautiful young opera singer who becomes the love of his life.  But from where did the Phantom come?  What course of action lead him to choose the Opera House as his hideaway?  What was his life like?  Why is he disfigured?  These questions and more are the inspiration for Susan Kay's ultimate fanfiction novel (and book #82 for the year), Phantom.

The titular "Phantom" begins life as Erik, the terribly disfigured son of a widowed French mother who can hardly believe the burden placed upon her from his birth.  Resented and feared by his mother and forced from birth to wear a mask, Erik is expected to die young, and barring that, be nothing more than a mindless animal.  But his inquisitive brain and remarkable abilities in the fields of architecture, music, and magic stun the minds of all who meet him.   A loveless childhood and subsequent flight from his home lead Erik through the wilds of France to a Romany camp, then to Italy and Russia and Persia, where he becomes a victim of both the cruelty of the human race and the disfigurement of his own features.  Believing that he should expect nothing but hatred and cruelty from his fellow man, Erik remains content as an outsider to life, until fate brings him face-to-face with the beautiful young chorus girl, Christine Daae, forcing him to try his hand at love and acceptance one last time.

This book is a heartrending companion to both the Leroux novel and the Andrew Lloyd Webber play.  It fills in the gaping questions listed above, and more, giving the Phantom fan a well-plotted-out backstory and explanation for Erik's actions and the history behind his genius in so many fields.  The Leroux novel explains more about the Daae family, Christine and her relationship to her father, and what brought her to believe in the "Angel of Music" that Erik first pretends to be.  It speaks very little about Erik's lifetime or backstory, nor does it explain his mysterious friendship with the man only known as "the Persian", who becomes central to the climax of the book (and who is completely omitted from the Lloyd Webber play).  

Kay fleshes out Erik's story.  The book is divided into a series of vignettes, each from the point of view of Erik, or of a person who had an impact (positive or negative) upon his life, including Madeleine (Erik's unhappy mother), an Italian Freemason who educates Erik in the field of architecture, the Persian (who gets a name in this, as Nadir Kahn) who is ordered to bring Erik to Asraf to design a palace for the shah-in-shah, and of course, Christine Daae herself.  The chapter by Nadir Kahn is really among the most fascinating and telling parts of the book, and it explains the presence of "the Persian" in the original novel.

The myriad reviews on Goodreads show me that this is not a book that caters to all Phantom fans.  Some say that if you are a fan of the original book you'll love it, or if you love the play but hate the book, it's for you.  If you like the Phantom and think that Christine and Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny, never belonged together...or if you just like a ton of backstory.  For my part, I love it.  It's one of my favorite books, and I feel so lucky to have snagged a free copy on PaperbackSwap recently.

Rating: *****

One

It wasn't always easy.  Sometimes, it was damn hard.

But last night, we went out to dinner at the same restaurant that had our rehearsal dinner at, and toasted to one year of marriage.

A year of ups and downs, of highs and lows, of laughing so hard we cried, and crying so hard that it hurt.  One year of being newlyweds.  One year of learning, of growing, of figuring out who we are.
 

I know more now than I did before.  So does he.  We know better who we are.

"I learned things about myself that I never would have known...it's always better to contend with the known than the unknown.  I love you.  I always have, and I always will.  Remember that."  -- The Thorn Birds

Here's to one year of marriage in the bank.

And many more fifths of November never to be forgotten.

Review: Marie Antoinette: The Journey by Antonia Fraser

Connecticut is still recovering from our freak snowstorm and widespread power failure.  I entertained myself by downloading a book on Kindle right before the storm.  I seem to have a penchant for reading about doomed female monarchs, and having read a great deal about the Tudors and England, I have moved on to the French Revolution.  Book #81 for the year was Marie Antoinette: The Journey by Antonia Fraser.

Born an Austrian archduchess and married at 14 to the future King of France, Maria Antonia Josepha Johanna, better known as Marie Antoinette, is an elusive character to understand.  Like Anne Boleyn, another doomed queen, she takes on many forms.  On one hand, she's the she-devil who corrupted a nation, spent millions of dollars on frivolity, kept countless lovers while cuckolding her husband the King, and deserved the inglorious end she received.  On the other, she's the tragic martyr of Versailles, a doting wife and loving mother who was falsely accused of a storm of accusations, betrayed by the nation she loved and whose interests she worked tirelessly for.  It is difficult to remember that the woman who mounted the scaffold at thirty-eight years old began her life as an indulged little daughter of one of Europe's most celebrated monarchs, a young girl desperate to please all around her.  Antonia Fraser takes this much-disputed figure and shows the journey from archduchess to queen to mother...to legend.

Like Alison Weir, Antonia Fraser has the gift of taking historical nonfiction and writing it like a novel.  This book, long as it was (500 pages) was an incredibly fast read.  Having seen the Sofia Coppola film that it was loosely based upon, I expected pages upon pages of indulgence, frivolity, and saccharine sweetness.  The film does Fraser's book no credit.  Antoinette's spendthrift days are over long before the book is halfway complete -- truly, Fraser spends the majority of her writing discussing and dissecting the long and terrible years of imprisonment and terror that Antoinette and her family spent after the liberation of the Bastille and the fall of the monarchy.  A great deal of time is spent in trying to explain exactly why the French people so hated Marie Antoinette, that she became the scapegoat and the symbol of all that was wrong with the monarchy.

Growing up, most of us are introduced to Marie Antoinette as the frivolous queen who wasted the country's money like crazy and was too stupid to realize she was spending her way into her own grave.  And Sofia Coppola and Kirsten Dunst would surely point us in that direction.  But Fraser's book offers a closer look into the life of the real Antoinette, her lifestyle, her motives, her viewpoints, and why, as Fraser believes, her tragic end was a foregone conclusion from the moment of her birth.

Rating: **** and 1/2