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What a nice day! I woke from a dream of 'Japan' that happened on that non-existent highway by Heiwadai Station, involving a sort of bookstore plus community centre plus bakery, to silver sun and no rain at all. (A sprinkling later while I was having a hot turkey sandwich at Fran's, one of the few places that does that greasy spoon classic; Fran's does not provide the usual flour-thickened gravy, but does give you cranberry sauce.) Took heavy-duty cough medicine against my dentist appointment and floated through the erst of the morning in a pleasant druggy high. My crown did not require freezing and cost $200 less than I'd expected. (A quarter of that was discount, but since I always pay by debit rather than credit card, I think she can give me a discount from time to time.) A very apropos quote about dragons and librarians showed up on my FB feed. My elbow behaved for most of the day, though two babies who love me gave it a workout. And it's reached the level of 'almost cool enough to need a jacket', after I slept with the window AC on last night.
Finished last week?
Adams, ed., The Improbable Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Not bad pastiche, by and large, aside from two Cthuluan and historically improbable offerings from Shadows Over Baker St. Shall keep.
Parker, Black Arrow. Never know how I feel about Akitadas. On the one hand, the closest to Gulik's Judge Dee mysteries one will come; on the other, a more dissimilar protagonist to Judge Dee you will never find. Akitada wibbles and feels incompetent and hesitates and suffers Imposter Syndrome; Dee never doubts the rightness of his position for a second. It seems I cherish Dee for his blinkered constipated Confucianism and miss it when it's gone.
Green, ed., Cosmopolitan Crimes. Foreign Rivals of Sherlock Holmes. Surprisingly readable, given the period of composition (1890-1914). Aside from the notion and admiration of South Africa as a producer of strong and intelligent rich men, few queasy making moments. But Arsene Lupin is insupportable and needs to be strangled at birth, retroactively.
Reading now?
Still with Pandemonium and Parade. Tentatively started my last Akitada, The Convict's Sword.
Next?
Oh, if only ambition would return. Should I abandon Women and Wolves (which Goodreads either loves or loathes) or Vexed and Troubled Englishmen (which no one likes much and no one has reviewed) or The Decameron on the grounds that there's neither pleasure nor profit to be had from them? Should I start some of those doorstoppers I've had for years if not decades, and on the same principle discard them if not interested? The Borribles, The Pound Era, Tokyo: Year Zero (speaking of either loving or loathing- yikes.)
What I want, actually, is more intelligent Victorian steampunk. And The Ghost Bride is looking to be the closest I'll come to it, unless I can spring for Everfair.
Finished last week?
Adams, ed., The Improbable Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Not bad pastiche, by and large, aside from two Cthuluan and historically improbable offerings from Shadows Over Baker St. Shall keep.
Parker, Black Arrow. Never know how I feel about Akitadas. On the one hand, the closest to Gulik's Judge Dee mysteries one will come; on the other, a more dissimilar protagonist to Judge Dee you will never find. Akitada wibbles and feels incompetent and hesitates and suffers Imposter Syndrome; Dee never doubts the rightness of his position for a second. It seems I cherish Dee for his blinkered constipated Confucianism and miss it when it's gone.
Green, ed., Cosmopolitan Crimes. Foreign Rivals of Sherlock Holmes. Surprisingly readable, given the period of composition (1890-1914). Aside from the notion and admiration of South Africa as a producer of strong and intelligent rich men, few queasy making moments. But Arsene Lupin is insupportable and needs to be strangled at birth, retroactively.
Reading now?
Still with Pandemonium and Parade. Tentatively started my last Akitada, The Convict's Sword.
Next?
Oh, if only ambition would return. Should I abandon Women and Wolves (which Goodreads either loves or loathes) or Vexed and Troubled Englishmen (which no one likes much and no one has reviewed) or The Decameron on the grounds that there's neither pleasure nor profit to be had from them? Should I start some of those doorstoppers I've had for years if not decades, and on the same principle discard them if not interested? The Borribles, The Pound Era, Tokyo: Year Zero (speaking of either loving or loathing- yikes.)
What I want, actually, is more intelligent Victorian steampunk. And The Ghost Bride is looking to be the closest I'll come to it, unless I can spring for Everfair.