Posts in Category: 2010

Mailbox entry

I have talked so much about my mailbox these last entries that I think I should name one category ‘mailbox’.
Today was no exception: I opened my mailbox and two books came tumbling out, much to my delight.

Blixen and Adichie

The Blixen book I received for the tweet I talked about in my earlier post. It is so pwetty! I think I will wait a while before reading it, and just enjoy its crisp, white cover for a while before I smudge it with my ever so clumsy butterfingers.
The second one I received so I could review it. And this one I will definitely start on today. I have bought Adichie’s earlier book ‘Half of a yellow sun’ – which coincidentally is also on my ever-growing to-read-in-summer list – so I contemplated if I should read that one first, but really, I don’t really see the point in keeping up with chronology.
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is Nigerian, educated in the USA and has written two novels before this one. ‘Half of a yellow sun’ is set in 1960’s Nigeria in civil war-time and it centers on three main characters.
‘The thing around your neck’ (the book on the photo) is a collection of short stories, originally published in 2009 and translated/published to Danish in June, 2010.
I have never read (that I remember, or know of) any African writers’ works, so I am looking forward to see how she writes, and what she writes about. It seems that Africa is for the most part narrated in the Western culture through monetary/monitory voices, so it will be nice to hear from the people who actually grow up and live in Africa. With the craze of the World Cup in South Africa, where the vuvuzela has been no. 1 item on news channels’ report list, it has managed to overshadow every other good story they could run about this fascinating country. So I will turn off my TV (my mother and brother are going: “Blasphemy!!”), make a good cup of tea and sit in my chair reading my way through Africa, until the day I walk the continent and see it for myself.

My birthday

Two days ago I turned 28. The magic of birthdays has gone a long time ago, but it is still a good excuse for feeling extra special, like you deserve some credit for making it this far.
The day started well of with morning-coffee and buns, lots of congratulations on different channels and when I went to my mailbox I found a very sweet card from my boyfriend and a copy of the not-yet released book about the Price brothers, courtesy of Gyldendal and my speedy fingers on their review-site. Initially I am thinking that their life has already been spilled all over DR’s channel 2 (+ the book is an upgrade from Lone Kühlmann’s previously released book about them) and not a lot of new insider stuff of interest can be crammed into the book, but I am hoping that I will be proven wrong.
Spending my afternoon half in the kitchen (no misogynistic comments please) and half on the internet, I managed to produce lots of food for my party in the evening AND score Karen Blixen’s ‘Winter’s Tales’ for my #fridaybook contribution on Twitter, and the whole thing just created a happy buzz for the day.
In the evening my friends came over in the best mood ever (thank you guys!) and we started the party off with a bubbly strawberry/pineapple drink, followed by food in profusion and even more bubbly. Then Jakob came in with the cake, covered in candles and I opened my gifts. We spent the whole night with lots of laughs and talk.

So, the day turned out to be… well, magical.

 

Jenny - 28 and happy

Telling stories

I have started to read Karen Blixen’s Seven Gothic Tales and I am really liking it. The first story ‘Roads around Pisa’ reminded me a lot of Don Quixote and how Cervantes playfully deals with sexuality and misconceptions that invite a reconsideration/reaffirmation of the cultural meaning of gender. There is an awful lot of reflection about women and their stand in life in Blixen’s tales. It is really fascinating to read when most of it narrates through the characters of men, and that which is narrated by women is done with regards to their station within the realms of society’s norm. The seven tales from the title are interspersed with many, many tales that use this power of narration to get their story out.

I am a firm believer in the idea that we sculpt our world through narration. The stories we choose to tell are our takes on reality as we perceive it, or in some cases how we challenge it. We accept and join in on some narrations, while we reject and replace others and in doing so we create meaning for ourselves. The characters of Karen Blixen are all trying to communicate their knowledge or view of the world through their tales. There are those in her character-base who create stories that are double-edged, recounting past experiences with present knowledge (older, wiser attitude) while forming their explanation by present outlook. And then there are stories that attempt to incite future action, stories that distress, stories that bring joy and stories that contemplate life’s fickle nature.

Karen Blixen - Syv Fantastiske Fortællinger

Narration has a great power over humans. We relate to each other when we tell tales and listen to stories of others. We invite others to see what we see and use stories to understand others, and mostly ourselves. Telling stories is a very common pastime in my family (both immediate and extended). There are some great storytellers among them that capture their audience with exhilarating stories, and it is of no matter how often we have heard them. It is not so much the story per se, as the setting, the way the story is being told and the feelings that the storytellers convey that have an effect on the listener. Without being told to ‘laugh here’, ‘cry here’, or ‘be shocked here’ you use all of your sociocultural learned skills on picking up signs and identifiable markers.
I guess this inclination towards stories and narration in my family has been naturally conveyed into the wonderful world of literature for me. I feel at home in processing stories and using my skills to look at a text not as an inanimate object that is merely to be read or seen, but a living creation always up for interpretation and always experienced by the next listener/reader in line.

Summertime

As of yesterday I have completed my first year of MA in Comparative Literature! And luckily the semester ended on a high, so I am mighty pleased 🙂
I woke up at 5.20 am yesterday, and could have ripped my pillow to pieces because I wasn’t scheduled to give my presentation until 1.30 pm!! So I had to figure out a way of using up seven useless hours without succumbing to my compulsory need for changing the presentation, adding to it or chucking it in the bin. I was actually kind of proud of my study, but there is always the nagging little voice, “what if I just tweak this, or focus on that… did I explain this well enough or did I get it wrong???”
FINALLY the hour had come (well, as always with a ten minute delay), and I walk in the room where months of studying, reading, writing, thinking and theorizing will either pay off or swish out of my head. In my case the former won over the latter and I walked out of there with a rush I so love when it comes to studying and exams. It is a unique feeling – sometimes a bit anticlimactic, but when you get it right, you get it right!!
So I had a celebratory beer with my boyfriend, and got a bit tipsy as the combo between no breakfast and the adrenaline that had buzzed in my body for nearly 12 hours straight collided with the alcohol. 🙂
So, today is the first day of my summer vacation, and in honor of the buzz I am still on (something like DiCaprio’s ‘I’m the king of the world’ exclamation – complete with the absolutely ridiculous, and toe-cringing, woohoo) I will be embarking on a long list of postponed books, that for too long have yearned for my attention, yes babies momma’s comin’ 😀
I think I shall start with Karen Blixen’s ‘Seven Gothic Tales’, and then work my way through the books, at the rate and manner befitted of their station.

Oh, and I finished Frankenstein on the e-reader two days ago. I don’t really know what to say. I think the modern jaded consciousness will never be as shocked or thrilled as Mary Shelley’s contemporary readers would have been. It is a good read considering the philosophy behind it, but the style of language is too rigid and stilted for me to get behind the text and lose myself in the misery. ‘American Psycho’ on the other hand, now there is a different story!
Plus, I will not be investing in an e-reader of the sorts I tried out, sticking to my books for now. But I really want to try another e-reader, because I am sure that there is good in these things, if only for the sake of the trees…

Writers and booze

Why is it, that in order to be a writer of any standard above boring, you have to have a serious relationship with some vice that is only cool by reason of your literary skills? Or your characters must?
Hunter Thompson, for instance, advocated the absolute surrender to alcoholic beverages and drugs in order to facilitate creative flow. He was under the serious impression that the day he gave up booze and drugs, he was finished as a writer. He was a myth long before he offed himself, but received a revival in popular culture with Johnny Depp’s interpretation of him in ‘Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas’.
And then we have the whole scene of crime fiction USA, dating from the 20s and 30s, where the harder the detective, the more he was liqueured up. Off course this fascination most probably stems from the whole prohibition era, and indulgence in illegal substances have always been of more appeal than your average cup of coffee. Raymond Chandler with his protagonist, Philip Marlowe, sink down one bourbon-gin-whiskey after another, get caught up in femmes fatales (another addiction that is life threatening) and shoot their way out of trouble. Guns, women, alcohol, what more can a life-fleeing writer desire?

Drinks and writers

Does literary creativity of the good kind stem from these liquid brave-makers? Or is the gift of creativity so painful that it must be alleviated by any kind of mind-droning substance, that can move the responsibility of the outcome away from the writer and put it in a realm of its very own?
My favorite drinks are Strawberry Frozen Daquiry, Cuba Libre and Mojito. I wonder what strange concoction of writer I will turn out to be…