Sunday, October 27, 2013

BW44: Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain

Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
The 15th book in Susan Wise Bauer's list of great fiction in Well Educated Mind is The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain.   It was released in England in 1884 and in the United States in 1885.  It is written from the viewpoint of Huckleberry Finn and he uses some very colorful language.  The book has been criticized because of perceived use of racial stereotypes and the use of racial slurs.  Readers have to look at the period of time in which the book was written and take into account the culture of that time frame.  I read Huckleberry Finn for a literature class in college and  it lead to some great discussions about culture and race, slavery and freedom, friendship and life.





CHAPTER I.


YOU don't know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain't no matter. That book was made by Mr. Mark Twain, and he told the truth, mainly. There was things which he stretched, but mainly he told the truth. That is nothing. I never seen anybody but lied one time or another, without it was Aunt Polly, or the widow, or maybe Mary. Aunt Polly -- Tom's Aunt Polly, she is -- and Mary, and the Widow Douglas is all told about in that book, which is mostly a true book, with some stretchers, as I said before.

Now the way that the book winds up is this: Tom and me found the money that the robbers hid in the cave, and it made us rich. We got six thousand dollars apiece -- all gold. It was an awful sight of money when it was piled up. Well, Judge Thatcher he took it and put it out at interest, and it fetched us a dollar a day apiece all the year round -- more than a body could tell what to do with. The Widow Douglas she took me for her son, and allowed she would sivilize me; but it was rough living in the house all the time, considering how dismal regular and decent the widow was in all her ways; and so when I couldn't stand it no longer I lit out. I got into my old rags and my sugar-hogshead again, and was free and satisfied. But Tom Sawyer he hunted me up and said he was going to start a band of robbers, and I might join if I would go back to the widow and be respectable. So I went back.


The widow she cried over me, and called me a poor lost lamb, and she called me a lot of other names, too, but she never meant no harm by it. She put me in them new clothes again, and I couldn't do nothing but sweat and sweat, and feel all cramped up. Well, then, the old thing commenced again. The widow rung a bell for supper, and you had to come to time. When you got to the table you couldn't go right to eating, but you had to wait for the widow to tuck down her head and grumble a little over the victuals, though there warn't really anything the matter with  them, -- that is, nothing only everything was cooked by itself. In a barrel of odds and ends it is different; things get mixed up, and the juice kind of swaps around, and the things go better.

After supper she got out her book and learned me about Moses and the Bulrushers, and I was in a sweat to find out all about him; but by and by she let it out that Moses had been dead a considerable long time; so then I didn't care no more about him, because I don't take no stock in dead people.

Pretty soon I wanted to smoke, and asked the widow to let me. But she wouldn't. She said it was a mean practice and wasn't clean, and I must try to not do it any more. That is just the way with some people. They get down on a thing when they don't know nothing about it. Here she was a-bothering about Moses, which was no kin to her, and no use to any-body, being gone, you see, yet finding a power of fault with me for doing a thing that had some good in it. And she took snuff, too; of course that was all right, because she done it herself.

Her sister, Miss Watson, a tolerable slim old maid, with goggles on, had just come to live with her, and took a set at me now with a spelling-book. She worked me middling hard for about an hour, and then the widow made her ease up. I couldn't stood it much longer. Then for an hour it was deadly dull, and I was fidgety. Miss Watson would say, "Don't put your feet up there, Huckleberry;" and "Don't scrunch up like that, Huckleberry -- set up straight;" and pretty soon she would say, "Don't gap and stretch ike that, Huckleberry -- why don't you try to be-have?" Then she told me all about the bad place, and I said I wished I was there. She got mad then, but I didn't mean no harm. All I wanted was to go somewheres; all I wanted was a change, I warn't particular. She said it was wicked to say what I said; said she wouldn't say it for the whole world; she was going to live so as to go to the good place. Well, I couldn't see no advantage in going where she was going, so I made up my mind I wouldn't try for it. But I never said so, because it would only make trouble, and wouldn't do no good.

Now she had got a start, and she went on and told me all about the good place. She said all a body would have to do there was to go around all day long with a harp and sing, forever and ever. So I didn't think much of it. But I never said so. I asked her if she reckoned Tom Sawyer would go there, and she said not by a considerable sight. I was glad about that, because I wanted him and me to be together.

Miss Watson she kept pecking at me, and it got tiresome and lonesome. By and by they fetched the n****rs in and had prayers, and then everybody was off to bed. I went up to my room with a piece of candle, and put it on the table. Then I set down in a chair by the window and tried to think of something cheerful, but it warn't no use. I felt so lonesome I most wished I was dead. The stars were shining, and the leaves rustled in the woods ever so mournful; and  I heard an owl, away off, who-whooing about some-body that was dead, and a whippowill and a dog crying about somebody that was going to die; and the wind was trying to whisper something to me, and I couldn't make out what it was, and so it made the cold shivers run over me.

Then away out in the woods I heard that kind of a sound that a ghost makes when it wants to tell about something that's on its mind and can't make itself understood, and so can't rest easy in its grave, and has to go about that way every night grieving. I got so down-hearted and scared I did wish I had some company. Pretty soon a spider went crawling up my shoulder, and I flipped it off and it lit shriveled up. I didn't need anybody to tell me that that was an awful bad sign and would fetch me some bad luck, so I was scared and most shook the clothes off of me. I got up and turned around in my tracks three times and crossed my breast every time; and then I tied up a little lock of my hair with a thread to keep witches away. But I hadn't no confidence. You do that when you've lost a horseshoe that you've found, instead of nailing it up over the door, but I hadn't ever heard anybody say it was any way to keep off bad luck when you'd killed a spider.

I set down again, a-shaking all over, and got out my pipe for a smoke; for the house was all as still as death now, and so the widow wouldn't know. Well, after a long time I heard the clock away off in the town go boom -- boom -- boom -- twelve licks; and all still again -- stiller than ever. Pretty soon I heard a twig snap down in the dark amongst the trees -- something was a stirring. I set still and listened. Directly I could just barely hear a "me-yow! me- yow!" down there. That was good! Says I, "me-yow! me-yow!" as soft as I could, and then I put out the light and scrambled out of the window on to the shed. Then I slipped down to the ground and crawled in among the trees, and, sure enough, there was Tom Sawyer waiting for me.




Read online here or here.



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Sunday, October 20, 2013

BW43: Sorted Books





A while ago I stumbled across artist Nina Katchadourian and her sorted books project.   Since 1993, Nina has been taking from two to five books and creating poems.  In April of this year, they were compiled in Sorted Books, a whimsical collection of witty poems she's created in the past 20 years. She is an artist working in a variety of mediums including photography, video and sound.  She now has me looking at my bookshelves in a whole new way, putting together titles in a variety of ways.  I have way too much time on my hands.   I decided to give it a go, see what kind of incredibly short story I could come up with, using a few titles.  Of course, Melvin had to get in on the picture. 













Would you like to play along. See what you can come up with. Use 2 to 6 books and see what short story you can come up with. 

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 Link to your reviews:    Please link to your specific book review post and not your general blog link. In the Your Name field, type in your name and the name of the book in parenthesis. In the Your URL field leave a link to your specific post. If you don't have a blog, tell us about the books you are reading in the comment section of this post.
 

Sunday, October 13, 2013

BW42: More Book News



Since we are trekking through Asia and having a spooktacular reading month,  I thought it would be interesting to see what interesting spooky or paranormal books are available.  


Japanese Ghost Stories

Synopsis:  Japanese Ghost Stories is a collection of the eerie and terrifying from around Japan. This book opens a window into the hidden aspects of the Japanese world of the paranormal, a place where trees grow human hair, rocks weep and there's even a graveyard where Jesus is reputed to have been buried. Covering ancient and modern times, Japanese Ghost Stories offers not only good, old-fashioned scary stories, but some special insights into Japanese culture and psychology.



Synopsis:   Forget Godzilla. Forget the giant beasties karate-chopped into oblivion by endless incarnations of Ultraman, Kamen Rider, and the Power Rangers. Forget Sadako from 'The Ring' and that creepy all-white kid from 'The Grudge.' Forget everything you know about tales of terror before reaching for this book.

Yokai Attack! is a nightmare-inducing one-stop guide to Japan's traditional creepy-crawlies. Yokai are ethereal sorts of beings, like ghosts, nearly always encountered at night; everyone has their own take on how they might look in real life and what sorts of specific characteristics and abilities they might have


 


Synopsis:  Eminent Chinese scholar John Minford's superb translation captures the consummate skill and understated humor of Pu Songling's classic Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio. With elegant prose, witty wordplay, and subtle charm, the 104 stories in this collection reveal a world in which nothing is as it seems. In his tales of shape-shifting spirits, bizarre phenomena, haunted buildings, and enchanted objects, Pu Songling pushes the boundaries of human experience and enlightens as he entertains.




Synopsis:  'The Disappearance of Tejas Sharma…and other hauntings’ is an anthology of 12 ghost stories mostly set in India, and is meant for an audience with a penchant for the supernatural. Even with the constraints of a short story, each tale is rich in details and these dozen stories cover all the time tested classical elements of supernatural fiction. From the story of the young man who inexplicably vanishes to the epic tale of the haunted Peepal tree in Rajasthan; from the true story of a ghost station in West Bengal to the medieval legend of the scary well on a remote island; from the mysterious tick and cross markings in a graveyard to the haunting music coming from a locked room…  

More books for your wishlist!

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Sunday, October 6, 2013

BW41: October Spooktacular Reading Month



Are you ready for a Spooktacular Reading Month?   Or like some folks, did you get an early start in September.  If you haven't read Mary Shelley's Frankenstein or Bram Stoker's Dracula, now would be a perfect time to do so.  Wait, come back. Not right this minute, but this month.  *grin*    I've read them already, and thoroughly enjoyed them, although was really quite surprised because neither was quite what I expected.  Which is actually a good thing, because it keeps one from getting bored.  The mantra this month is expect the unexpected.  

Spooky doesn't have to necessarily mean horror.  I'm definitely not into the blood and guts type of books, but do love a great nail biting, give me goose bumps, don't turn off the lights read.  And there are plenty of scary, spooky, chilling, thrilling books that are psychological fiction, paranormal or just plain old thrillers. 

In that vein, I have a few spooky books on the shelves I will be reading and essentially still continuing with a Frankenstein and Dracula theme. 

I've fallen in love with Dean Koontz and his Odd Thomas series so I am happy to say he wrote a series in which he reworked the Frankenstein theme.  I'll be tackling the first book Frankenstein: Prodigal Son. I'll let you know what I think or if I manage to make it through the whole book.

 Every city has secrets. But none as terrible as this. His name is Deucalion, a tattooed man of mysterious origin, a sleight-of-reality artist who’s traveled the centuries with a secret worse than death. He arrives as a serial killer stalks the streets, a killer who carefully selects his victims for the humanity that is missing in himself. Detective Carson O’Connor is cool, cynical, and every bit as tough as she looks. Her partner Michael Maddison would back her up all the way to Hell itself–and that just may be where this case ends up. For the no-nonsense O’Connor is suddenly talking about an ages-old conspiracy, a near immortal race of beings, and killers that are more—and less—than human. Soon it will be clear that as crazy as she sounds, the truth is even more ominous. For their quarry isn’t merely a homicidal maniac—but his deranged maker.
Next up is Kim Newman's Anno Dracula series.  I read the first one a couple years back and it was quite imaginative, so I'm going to dive into The Bloody Red Baron
It is 1918 and Dracula is commander-in-chief of the armies of Germany and Austria-Hungary. The war of the great powers in Europe is also a war between the living and the dead. As ever the Diogenes Club is at the heart of British Intelligence and Charles Beauregard and his protegĂ© Edwin Winthrop go head-to-head with the lethal vampire flying machine that is the Bloody Red Baron…

From new to me author C.C. Humprey's is his historical thriller - Vlad: The Last Confession which according to Booklist: 
 

An unapologetic tale about a man who endured great losses and was driven by intense passion for his country and religion...the novel is aimed much more at readers interested in the historical origins of the Dracula stories than at those looking for another vampire story. As such, it succeeds admirably.

Neither do I think I could go wrong with Edgar Allan Poe's The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym and  Jules Verne's An Antarctic Mystery which was inspired by Poe's story and supposedly completes the mystery.  Plus H.P. Lovecraft's At the Mountain of Madness which was also inspired by Pym and takes place in the Antarctic. 


And last but not least, The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova, another historical fiction novel about Vlad, the impaler, which I've already began reading:

Breathtakingly suspenseful and beautifully written, The Historian is the story of a young woman plunged into a labyrinth where the secrets of her family's past connect to an inconceivable evil: the dark fifteenth-century reign of Vlad the Impaler and a time-defying pact that may have kept his awful work alive through the ages. The search for the truth becomes an adventure of monumental proportions, taking us from monasteries and dusty libraries to the capitals of Eastern Europe


What spooktacular books will you be reading this month?


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Link to your reviews:    Please link to your specific book review post and not your general blog link. In the Your Name field, type in your name and the name of the book in parenthesis. In the Your URL field leave a link to your specific post. If you don't have a blog, tell us about the books you are reading in the comment section of this post.