Sunsets and Reading

This really isn't going to be a photo blog, but I just have to show you how incredibly talented my camera is!  My cousin celebrated her 14th birthday today.  She and her family came to Fairhope from their home in Houston and rented a house on the bay for the occasion.  I saw that the sun was about to set, and my mom was trying to see it, but she got cornered by Granny and I could tell she was going to miss it.  I grabbed my camera, remembering that I was going to start taking pictures along with the added moral obligation to at least document what she was missing, being talked-to in depth about tomato cornbread something or other.  

I guess you can't really go wrong with such a subject, but I was thoroughly impressed.  Plus, the end of that pier has a hammock and a bench swing.  It also has no side-rails.  I always hated piers without at least one side-rail.  I couldn't make myself be enough in the center.  I'd try to avoid one side and get too close to the other, then I'd over correct and have a small panic attack.  It's best to stay on the balcony and take pictures with a fancy-pants camera.  

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Okay, so onto a totally different subject.  I'm currently reading and enjoying The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows.  I'm having a tough time putting it down.  I'm even able to read it at work, which I haven't really been able to do since I've been at the Eastern Shore Center office.  

It had me with a quote fairly early on in the book.  "Perhaps there is some secret sort of homing instinct in books that brings them to their perfect readers. How delightful if that were true."


It's written all in letters to and from a circle of people.  There is a main character, Juliet, and most of the letters are either to or from her, but occasionally some sub characters will correspond with one another.  It takes place just after the German occupation in Guernsey (where the Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society is located, in case that wasn't apparent) and in mainland England somewhere--I should know where, but this isn't a test--during WWII.  Juliet writes books and newspaper columns and has decided, after being contacted by a man in Guernsey concerning a book by a favorite common author, to do a series of articles for the paper about this literary society.  Where I am currently, she's gathering information by writing and receiving letters from the members of the society.

There is an unspoken (or maybe it is spoken--I just never heard it) rule of thumb with books, I've noticed. A majority of the time, a main character (or at least an important and likable sub character) loves to read and loves books.  It ties the reader to the character because the author safely presumes that the reader of his book also loves to read and will at the very least identify with the character in this way.  Readers can pretty much get along with any other reader because that common ground is pretty substantial, and there is always something to discuss.

I always feel somewhat relieved when I find out that a new acquaintence enjoys reading, and also disappointed if they don't.  The disappointment comes in various forms, though, depending on the sort of things the person says regarding reading.  Something like, "I don't have time," causes mild disappointment.

However, this: "I like to experience things for myself.  I don't want to read about other people doing them," causes distaste and extreme agitation.  I think we've all heard that on occasion.  Reacting to a comment like that is impossible, too--usually resulting in the ever so intelligent open-mouthed throat-noises.  It isn't about the reading at that point.  It's about the "zing."  This comment is a not-so-very-well hidden insult, suggesting that I am incapable of my own life.  Anyone who can insult someone so thoroughly is . . . something really awful.

Bringing the plane back in for landing after a tremendous tangent:  GL&PPPS (as we'll affectionately call the book).  The part I'm enjoying most, aside from the fascinating history lesson, is the mini book reviews.  Isola loves all things Brontë, Dawsey loves Charles Lamb, some other guy whose name evades me loves Seneca, and so on.  It's basically been a classics quick-reference for me and my new goal, post-acquisition of said Kindle on December 25th.  I'm so jazzed!