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TBF Project:Blog
Posted by Dain, Friday, November 30, 2007 8:44 PM (Eastern)
Do people read books any more? Or are they gifts that languish in spite of all the good intentions that pepper bourgeois culture? Well, well, whatever. Here are some books that are sure to please and easy on the mental digestion, even if you're American.
Speaking of digestion, Serve It Forth, M.F.K. Fisher's slim volume of gastronomic essays makes excellent bedtime reading. Serve It Forth is full of charm and wit, at every turn a gem of good eating and good writing combined. Since good books are their own best critic, I quote her Ms. Fisher's advice on how to give a dinner party, as superior to Nigella Lawson as Ovid is to Heroes: "I like a mutual ease. For this reason I prefer not to have among my guests two people or more, of any sex, who are in the first wild tremours of love. It is better to invite them after their new passion has settled, has solidified into a quieter reciprocity of emotions. (It is also a waste of good food, to serve it to new lovers.)"
I have recommended American Gods by Neil Gaiman before, but there is little harm in doing so again. It is, as they say, a page-turner. But not even the haughtiest snob will sneer at this one, because it's a good story well turned out that everyone will enjoy. Of all the books in my collection, this is the one most widely borrowed, the rare fantasy that does not owe anything to Tolkein or the yawning stupidity of Harry Potter, but rather meditates on America and gods (as the title verily suggests) through its unlikely hero, Shadow, fresh out of jail and given a second chance at life.
Though Kate DiCamillo's The Tale of Despereaux runs the risk of being too precious at times, there is a slightly wicked sense of humor that preserves the book from real danger. The title character is a drastically undersized, huge-eared mouse who loves music, stories, and the Princess Pea, among a queer assortment of characters. The perfect gift for your favorite little girl.
For laughs, consider John Kennedy Toole's A Confederacy of Dunces. I haven't much to say on this one, as I've received this as a gift myself from no less than two people... But I am eager to begin. Published posthumously (the author committed suicide at 32), and the foreword describes Ignatius Reilly, the protagonist, as "intellectual, ideologue, deadbeat, goof-off, glutton, who should repel the reader with his gargantuan bloats, his thunderous contempt and one-man war against everybody—Freud, homosexuals, heterosexuals, Protestants, and the assorted excesses of modern times. Imagine an Aquinas gone to pot, transported to New Orleans..."Labels: books
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