Domestic Bliss Report

Motherhood is hard work. If we don't stick together, we'll all fall apart.

Saturday, February 10, 2007

I'm Heather, and I'm... a book snob.

No, I'm not talking one of those with tooled leather covers and gilt edges. Those look nice on a shelf but aren't always the most convenient for actual reading. Which is what I do with books--what you're supposed to do with books.
It's the contents I'm concerned with. Don't give me abridged versions, condensed revisions, or brief synapses. I'm a grown-up. Give me the real thing.
Examples: I've read Les Misérables--all 1500 pages or so--in both French and English. I read Gone with the Wind back in college. I've read Dracula, Frankenstein, and Phantom of the Opera since the kids were born--only one of which have I seen the movie. Pride and Prejudice, Tess of the D'Urbervilles, The Jungle Book too. Anna Karenina and The Three Musketeers are on the shelf for 2007. I've got The Last of the Mohicans on my list, though I was told years back it was boring. I don't know if that was the high-school kid talking or if it really is.
When a friend told me her husband had received The Count of Monte Cristo for Christmas, I asked which one. "The big one, about six hundred pages."
"No, you got the wuss version. The real one is almost 1500. But so worth it!"
I'm getting better, though. At least it was in English.
This friend was so proud that she'd read a book--Picture of Dorian Gray--before I had. That doesn't happen much.
I have a weakness, though. Every now and then, all of that intellectual growth and multisyllabic prose gets to me and I need to burp my head, as it were. That's where the embarrassment lay.
I also like--deep breath--trashy romance novels.
I'm not exaggerating when I say "trashy," either. Sometimes I feel a little guilty that trees died to print them. My most recent one involved a psycho ex-cheerleader and supposed Bigfoot sightings. Which, upon further reflection, makes it no less realistic than most of the others I've read, just more obvious about it.

I guess what I'm saying with this is, just because someone has read all of the smart stuff doesn't mean they spend all their time with it. They just might have some Virginia Henley or Joanna Lindsey in the pile with Wilde, Dumas, or Dickens.



At 9:15 AM, Blogger Diane said...

Last of the Mohicans isn't boring at all. I read it and two of the other books in the Leatherstocking series and loved them all.

When I need fluff, I turn to light-hearted mysteries with spunky female characters. It's like visiting with an old friend, a sarcastic, feisty, funny friend whose problems are worse than mine by comparison. I also read comics, but I call them graphic novels so they seem less fluffy.

At 5:58 PM, Blogger David Stefanini said...

I love the blog that you have. I was wondering if you would link my blog to yours and in return I would do the same for your blog. If you want to, my site name is American Legends and the URL is:

If you want to do this just go to my blog and in one of the comments just write your blog name and the URL and I will add it to my site.


At 12:49 PM, Anonymous Sarah L. said...

I tore through 3 David Sedaris books right after I had my youngest child (sleep-deprived brain couldn't handle much else). His content is racy, but the man is truly funny. His books just seemed weird sitting on my shelf next to the Catechism, Bible, Magnificat, and Rumer Godden's In This House of Brede.

At 8:05 PM, Anonymous Heather said...

I'm so proud of you Heather, you are a book snob, it's true, but admitting it is the first step toward recovery. You can do it!

Even though I knew about the trashy romance weakness, I laughed out loud anyway when I read it.

I may not have read as many classics as you, but i'm willing to get a few more under my you really like trashy romance novels, it really is amazing to me.

Heather (Lily's mom)


Post a Comment

<< Home