For Goodlooking Children, Marry Your Siblings

That's right.
A couple weeks ago, I went on an Egypt book binge - Cleopatra, Nefertiti, Nefertari, Selene, Mutnodjmet, etc.
And even though I read a range of authors (all female, but a there were about three different ones) there were a couple of things that kept cropping up: All of the women were *Gorgeous* with a capital G, and all the men were either really hot, or kind of pudgy and useless. All the Egypto-dudes were easily enthralled by womanly charms.
So. Exciting.

I kind of take offense that every author touching on Ptolemy-era Egypt seems to think that the women had to be Supermodel Stunning in order to be rulers. I mean, while it IS true that being good looking can give you a boost in the Charm Olympics, research has indicated that Cleopatra (whose name most likely was actually spelled Kleopatra, but we English-speakers tend to butcher, oh, you know, EVERYTHING, so there you go) was actually fairly plain, with a large, hooked nose, and some royal junk in the trunk. It was her mind that truly fascinated people, and made her one of the most iconic women in history.
The pudgey-or-crazy-and-powerful men thing was kind of annoying too, actually, and this is where m'mind drifted to:
Ladies and gentlemen, I present for your pleasure, an unprecedented glimpse into the men of Ptolemy Egypt! There were only TWO varieties, with ONE subcategory and ONE combo special - let the show begin!

FIRST, we have the Hot But Brash Young Thang, as seen in Ramesses II and Marc Antony. Typically a sleek and muscular warrior incredible in-between the sheets, this young charmer is also promiscuous, but in love with only ONE WOMAN. (It BASICALLYALMOSTKINDOF balances out to monogamy.) Now, the HBBYT has a subcategory: Hot Crazy Young Thang, as seen in Ankhenaten, otherwise known as the Heretic King, for basically pulling a Henry VIII and starting his own church.Also, spreading plague in his own castle.

SECOND, we have Nice But Fat and Useless, as seen in Seti I and Ptolemy XII Auletes. Typically the father or father-in-law of our main character, the Gorgeous And Brainy Princess, he is basically a nice guy, but stupid. Easily bamboozled into following the wishes of Evil Manipulative People, when he dies, his son assumes some of his responsibilities, becoming a combo deal of the two categories described here:

Hot But Brash and Easily Bamboozled Well-Meaning King Who Likes to Sleep Around But is IN LOVE With Only One Woman, or HBBEBWMKWLSABILWOOW. Which, come to think of it, might actually be an Egyptian pharaoh's name.

So, there you go. Books on Ptolemy-era Egypt in a page.

This is not to say that ALL books written by women are about annoyingly oblivious men and hot, smart women - I'm actually really looking forward to reading the new Cleopatra book by Stacy Schiff: Cleopatra: A Life. It sounds really good - especially as it is grounded in meticulous research and a biography by an acclaimed biographer. So, after  I wait for 52 other library patrons to read and return their copies... I'll let you know if it's something new. That actually makes sense.
I mean, I would like to think that one of the most complex cultures in the history of the world was led by people other than fat, promiscous, crazy old men.


RR

Book of Le Moment

I am always bothered when peoples ask for my "favourite book".

Hmm, okay, do you have eight hours or so to spare?

I could go on for hours - and change my mind about a kagillion times as I do - but I have to say, there's this one book that is ALWAYS on the list:

The Princess Bride, S. Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love and Adventure, The "Good Parts" Version, Abridged by William Goldman.

So. Cool.

If you've been living under a rock in Siberia eating moss and drinking snow you melted through sheer willpower and haven't gotten a chance to see the movie, here is the basic story:

There is a girl named Buttercup, who is the most beautiful girl in the world. When her beloved Farm Boy, Westley, was killed by the Dread Pirate Roberts, Buttercup swore to never love again. Ergo, when Prince Humperdinck, ruler of Florin (the country where the book is set), threatens her with death if she doesn't marry him, she's pretty much cool with it.

The characters include Inigo Montoya ("You kill my father....prepare to die!" You knew it was coming), the world's most talented swordsman, on a mission to kill the Six-fingered Man and avenge the death of his father; Fezzik the strongman, looking for somewhere he belongs; and the Sicilian, Vizzini, an evil genius for hire.

I don't think this book could get any better.There are evil giant rodents, and a FIRE SWAMP. I mean, really?
Really?
I don't see how it COULDN'T be a classic.

The story is broken up with (fictitious) pieces from William Goldman's life; his legal woes in trying to revamp "S. Morgenstern's" classic, his cold marriage, his relationship with his son -

it SOUNDS dull, but I like how sarcastic and self-deprecating he is.

The story of The Princess Bride started as a bedtime story for William Goldman's two daughters, and it has that Fairy Tale Feel... sweeping and magical, but grounded with a sense of humour that original (cough cough ANCIENT cough cough) fairy tales don't.

I picked the book up because of the movie. They almost perfectly match, and the movie was impeccably cast - if you have seen the movie, you can picture each actor as their character. Which I consider to be book-to-movie-adaptation gold.
Eenyway. I am very, very sorry for my prolonged absence, and recognize that many of you have left, never to return - but if anyone is still reading, thank you.
Happy New Year,
Radical

Sick in the Real World

Hey peoples, this is RR reporting from.. well, who are we kidding, I'm not actually going to tell you.
I am sick. Have been since six this morning. Lotsa ickiness. But I have had a lot of spare reading time on m'hands. Since I woke up, I've completed the following list:

SICKY PERSON TO DO LIST
(Special Holiday Edition - oh, yeah. Christmas book review coming up soon.)

1. Watched Bad-but-Good TV show. (CHARMED, what! Power of Three! Prue! Piper! Phoebe!)
2. Brushed teeth. (Oh, the forbidden luxury. Ya gotta be sick to truly understand how delicious clean teeth are.)
3. Eaten candy canes. (Yummmm.... best candy ever. Also, these are stale. Chewy. Freaking awesome...)
4. Read Marcelo in the Real World, by Francisco X. Stork. (I read fast.)


So, moving on from my general ick factor, a review!
Marcelo in the Real World! By Francisco X. Stork!
Marcelo Sandoval is that around seventeen, and he's labeled as autistic, even though he does not technically fit under the Umbrella of Autism (or so the book says). He's fairly high-functioning, enough so that when his father demands he enroll at the regular high school in the fall or work at his law firm's office for the summer, it's not crazy hard for Marcelo to adapt to the routines of the office. At first, he starts off in the mail room, working under (get yer minds outta tha gutter!) Jasmine, an apparently gorgeous girl (Marcelo doesn't get "hot" or "beautiful" or even "remotely good-looking", so we have to rely on hearing how horny Dad's Partner's Jerky Son is for Jazzy). Then one day, Marcelo finds a picture in the trash - his father's firm is defending a company being sued for their windshields injuring people when they break, instead of shattering into millions of tiny, safe pieces as advertised. The picture is of a girl, of Hispanic descent, with half a face. The other half of her face is shrunken, burnt, and deformed. Marcelo connects with the picture, and the girl in it, and starts to investigate, wanting help her.
Jasmine was pretty much what I expected: callous, but reasonable, nice but not in a romantic or touchy-feely way.
Marcelo was okay. Kind of hard to connect with, but it was hard to tell if he was written that way on purpose as a symptom of his personality, or if the writing was just a little off.
I'm glad I read it - it was a nice distraction from Ickiness. But I have to say that I don't actually remember a heck of a lot of the plot, the legal stuff wasn't engaging enough, and several plot pieces felt like they never got picked up again. A one-time read, for sure.

Yours from the front line of the Holiday Ick War,
Radical

I am Le Messenger

Okay. So a couple days ago I was wasting time Googling things WHEN - I saw this link for a list of teen romance novels. Yes, yes it sounds bad. Lots of pimply sexual tension and kissing. But this was some Serious List Action.
And so I naturally reserved everything on it, because it actually looked pretty legit.
So the first book off the list I got from the beautiful, bountiful downtown library was I am the Messenger, by Markus Zusak. It's quite possibly one of the coolest and most frustrating books I have ever read.

COOL THINGS ABOUT I AM THE MESSENGER:
1. It is set in Australia. I challenge you to find Australia uncool.
2. The main character is named Ed Kennedy. Ed. Kennedy. I don't know why his name is neat-sounding, it just it.
3. Ed Kennedy (Zoh My God, I figured it out: His first name is in his last name. Maaaadness!) is an underage cab driver. (I guess you have to be twenty to drive "cabs" in Oz.) He's nineteen.
4. The book starts off when he and his friends are in a bank. And it is being robbed. Bank robberies do, in reality, suck, but in theory they are cool.
5. Ed is sent Mysterious Messages written on playing cards, specifically aces.
6. The messages lead him to find people who need to be helped.
7. There's a party in a church. A legit party, with music and free beer.

FRUSTRATING THINGS ABOUT I AM THE MESSENGER:
1. There is actually only one thing I found really frustrating: The ending.
Throughout the book, Ed et al are all "Who is sending these f*#&ing cards". And they do find out.
KIND OF.

The first time I read the ending, I was literally like: "WHAT THE F@*%, THIS ANSWERS NONE OF MY QUESTIONS THIS BOOK SUCKS SO MUCH ASS!!!"

Then I took a chill pill and read it again.
And again.
And again.

And I have come to the revelation that *even* if the ending is a LITTLE BIT OF A COP OUT (are you  listening to the Mind Messages I am sending you, Mark Zusak? Yeah, I thought so), this is still one of the coolest books I have read in a long, long time.
The characters all actually seemed like normal people, and Ed was/is really just a likeable, normal guy dealing with some really, really crazy stuff.

I am trying *really hard* to not leak any spoilers, so here goes: AFTER THE JUMP THERE ARE SPOILERS AND A RANT. READ AT YOUR OWN PERIL, SUCKERS.
So I'll insert my summary here:
I Am The Messenger is by Mark Zusak, a young Aussie who used to drive cabs.
It is definitely worth reading, but be prepared to slow down at the end so you fully process what is going on. The characters and (most of) the plot kick ass.
7/10, ka-ZAM!

I'm saying my adieus here also....

Sayonara,
Radical

Review: How I Live Now

How I Live Now, by Meg Rosoff, is a lovely little British novel by a lovely little British lady. Despite all that lovely little Britiness, it's solidly a part of the genre we like to call War Stories.

How I Live Now (HILN) is the story of an anorexic girl named Daisy, who is punted to England to live with her aunt and cousins when her stepmother becomes too awful to bear. While there, she becomes very close with her younger cousin Piper, marvels over the strange abilities of her cousin Isaac, is largely indifferent to Oswald, her oldest cousin, and falls In Love with her cousin Edmond.

That's right.

Cousin Love.

In England.

For some reason, though, it never becomes Truly Creepy. It just hovers at Slightly Disturbing If You Actually Think About It.

Then, in the midst of all this Cousin Bonding and Non-Creepy Cousin Love, a war explodes. Basically, Britain's main army has been lured out of the country for various reasons, and now another country or organization (who is carefully never named or identified, besides as being Not British) is not letting them back in.

!!!

WHO KNEW WAR WAS THAT SIMPLE!

Not me, that's for sure.

After brushing off that stunning tactical achievement, we are presented with the Splitting Up of the cousins: Girls with girls, boys with boys.

After various physically and emotionally harrowing adventures, the book does end fairly happy, but I will warn you:

This is not exactly a feel good read.

There are mass murders. They are gory, and awful, and heartbreaking.

There is a LOT of emotional damage, also, and the book does make a pretty good case for how hard it is for people to heal after wars.

My biggest problem with the book was that it was written very freely, without a lot of grammar. So there are run-on sentences that go on FOREVER. Even when the writing is really gorgeously (or gorily) descriptive, sometimes the odd structure can make your head a little grumbly. If you could relax, it flowed very nicely, but when just reading for a couple of minutes, it was kind of distracting.

In short, it was good. Bit of a hard read, due to Murder and Bad Sentence Structure (oops, meant Free, Loose, Poetic, Blah Blah Blah).

Avoid if even the slightest whiff of incest is really disgusting to you.

Sending kissing cousins your way,

Yours truly,

Radical

Back to Me Roots

I changed my name. Again. Honestly, I doubt that anyone is really reading this regularly, so I think it's kind of fun to just be able to do whatever.

I have no idea why I picked the above title. Being honest again, it started out as some pretentious, pain in the ass idea to write something really witty and profound about some dusty book from when I was little that I laughed, cried, and sighed over.

All of a sudden... I feel a weird pressure to write something Good, or at least made with Quality Ingredients.

But the truth is, that's not really why I'm here. I'm here 'cause I love to read. Books, blogs, magazines, postcards, advertisements, billboards, clothing, cars, busses, sky-writing... I just really like to read.

Odd how I used to dream of this blog as an Urban Movement, that would result in a Devoted Following, and of course an inevitable, highly coveted Book Deal. But when I am faced with a handful of readers, I become fogey. Stuffed up. BORING.

So after the Personal Reflection of this post, we'll be returning to our usual program: Books.

With stuffy affectations,

Yours truly,

Radical

Stupid Monkey

Hey mamacitas,

let's talk about one of my personal Literary Monkeys, clawing its way up my back to a prime position of right. next. to. my. right. ear: Book Guilt.

Yes, that's right. Book Guilt.

Fear it.

My Book Guilt regularly rears its ugly monkey like face when I have been indulging in a good session of Mindless Reading. You know what I'm talking about. Mindless Reads are the book equivalents of watching plotless sitcoms or cartoons instead of epically epic epics and award-winning, acclaimed documentaries. Over the last couple of months (digging back into School Work, ick) I've been imbibing in a steady flow of what I consider to be easy reads. Books that require effort, or are exceedingly Large and Intimidating, have been unceremoniously shoved to the back of the bookshelves, where herds of dust bunnies will snarl warningly at me when I forget and reach into the depths, looking for a book where neither high school nor romance is addressed. Lord of the Rings? LATER! Jane Austen? NOT NOW! Little Women? I'LL GET TO IT!

A couple of days ago at the school library, I decided to try to stop the screeching of the monkey at my NASCAR-racer-finds-lost-son-and-fiancee-they-live-happily-ever-after comfortably thin paperback pick by taking out one of the largest non-Twilight fictional books known to mankind: Anna Karenina.

BAD IDEA.

When trying to build up reading from, say, crappy romance paperbacks, one should try to move in small steps. From a romance PB to a mystery PB. From the mystery PB to a High School Hardcover (one of the first three Harry Potters, maybe). From the HS Hardcover to an Emotional Hardcover (say, a Sarah Dessen. THIS IS NOT A SLAM! I love her books with a righteous fire). From the Emotional Hardcover to a Fairly Easy to Read Classic (Little Women, anything about Anne Shirley). From easy classic, move to the Medium Classic (Austen, Tolkien). From the Medium Classic, proceed to the Hard Classics, otherwise known as Almost Anything By An Obscure Russian.

Accompany with lazy weekend afternoons and as little personal hygiene (washing, makeup, dressing) as is possible.

Yes, I see the irony in posting this on SUNDAY, the Ominous Weekend Day Because The Next Day Is Monday So What Is The Point Of Enjoying Yourself Because Tomorrow Might Just Suck. But this gives you time to prepare for NEXT weekend!

There will be more on this Lit Guilt later.

See you on the flip side,

AT/RR/AS

(all these names are starting to screw with my head. Oops! We meant our head.)