Reading Project, 17

These are a bunch of books that I’m reading intermittently—for different reasons—and is also an attempt to catch up on what I’m now spending most of my time on.

Book 55 … Flying Dutchmen: a Narrative of an Expedition of Discovery from Australia to the Netherlands with “the Flying Dutchman”, by Frank Clune with illustrations by Bert Zimmerman, published in 1953 by Angus & Robertson Ltd.

Lol, this book is only about 5 years younger than I am and just as long-winded. Look at the title! Eighteen words! Plus it’s old. And Frank Clune?

Seeing that name on the spine of a book was a bit of a blast from the past as that gentleman had many titles floating around on the New South Wales summer holiday circuit in the 1960s. One reason why I picked this one out of the dumpster.

I’ve read many of his titles during holidays away while in my teens. Him and Ion Idriess, another prolific author writing about Australia. The whole family used to accompany my father to the town nearest one of his job-sites, and stay there in a boarding house or in a tent by a local beach for some or other school holiday, while he did maintenance at the local power station.

Dusty shelves in boarding house hallways and camp laundries were the places where you could find books left behind by visitors.

Frank Clune wrote about 35 books, quantity over quality, but great for practicing my new English on. Similar style to Enid Blyton’s but for adults.

The extra thing this book has going for it is that it journals a visit to the Netherlands by Clune and his wife. Once there, they met an old friend Bert Zimmerman, an artist, who did the illustrations. The description of Zimmerman’s imprisonment by the Japanese in what is now Indonesia during the war and the illustrations are the quality.

Netherland in 1953, only a eight years after the end of WWII is also interesting. Clune and his wife got to see many more sights than I did at only five years old at that time. So, yeah, this book is still on the reading-intermittently pile.

Book 56 … The Imagination Matrix: How to Access the Greatest Power You Have for Creativity, Connection, and Purpose, by Stephen Aizenstat, Ph.D. Published in 2023 by Sounds True Publishing.

I had great hopes for this book, in that I hoped that it would have something more to say about how the imagination works than the texts on that subject that I already have, or that I could learn online. Alas, that hasn’t so far eventuated.

Up to now it reads like a mash-up of Inner Work by Robert Johnson (1986) and The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron (1994), both already in my library. I’m disappointed I fell for the upmarket marketing spiel. It’s on the intermittent pile for any new crumbs I may come across.

Book 57 … The 27 Club: Why Age 27 is Important, by Michael Owen. Published in 2012 by Kahurangi Press, Tauranga, New Zealand.

If you’ve heard of the 27 Club you’re better informed than I am. I was a complete ignoramus. When I was 27 I’d just taken off for my round-the-world trip of a life-time. At only 125 pages you’d think I would’ve ripped through it but that hasn’t been the case.

Though there are interesting parts in it, they are tacked together with a so far un-exhausted collection of people stepping off their mortal coils at 27 or thereabouts. I have started to underline sections for future reference so I guess that’s the reason it’s on the intermittent pile, and not in the books to go to Life Line bag because it’s not a keeper.

Book 58 … The Story of Art Without Men, by Katy Kessel. Published in 2022, this edition in 2024 by Penguin Random House UK.

This one qualifies as a ‘tome’ I think. Though it has the usual Penguin proportions, it outweighs all three previous books together by at least half a kilo.

This is one of those books you look at online and like what you see, order it, and receive a whole other production. The height and width are the normal Penguin style, as I said. But it might be four centimetres thick. Has glossy pages, 9 point print, small pictures.

I thought I’d be getting a magazine-style book with decent sized images. An art history that I could show off. Instead, some of the pics have to be studied with a magnifying glass. Luckily, the spine is sewn so it won’t fall apart in three minutes. And it’s thorough with 500 years worth of Western art movements with the women artists featured in each one.

I knew just a couple in the first chapter, like Artemisia Gentileschi (1593—c1653) who, like many of the early women painters, started in her father’s studio. She was raped by one of her father’s colleagues, had her fingers tortured during the subsequent trial, and at the end of it was married off. She painted in the Italian Baroque era.

Judith Leyster (1609—1660) was a Dutch Golden Age painter, famous at the time, but who married another artist and faded out of the scene to raise five children. Some of her paintings were attributed to Frans Hals though her signature was there plain to be seen, not painted over.

Two out of the fifteen women artists featured in the first chapter, and 150 women painting in the Dutch golden age compared to 3200 men was a figure also mentioned. All largely unknown.

My bookmark sits at the Eighteenth Century, Chapter II, from 1700 to 1800, a dense read that can only proceed in little gulps. This book, too, sits on the intermittent pile.

— — — —

They are a little pile sitting on the couch beside me, one of several other piles. My journals and day-book make up another pile. The third pile I’ll talk about next time.

Reading Project, 16

Book 52: Throne of Glass by Sarah J Maas, published in 2012 by Bloomsbury Publishing

Book 53, Crown of Midnight, by Sarah J Maas, published in 2013 by Bloomsbury Publishing

Book 54: Heir of Fire, by Sarah J Maas, Published in 2014 by Bloomsbury Publishing DNF

This post is about my attempt at becoming a regular iPad/Kindle reader. And let me tell you, that’s not happening. Well, you could see that from the way my reading project seems to have ground to a stuttering halt.

One of my reading buddies requested that I read Sarah J Maas’s fantasy series Throne of Glass so she would have someone to discuss it with. I looked at the series online and read a few pages here and there. I didn’t think it would be worth my while to buy the books in print since I didn’t know yet whether I would like them enough to read them again.

Charged up my second-hand refurbished iPad, found the Libby Library and went through its hoops to sign up. The first of the series happened to be on a seven-day borrowing shelf, so ‘signed that out’ and went for it. 

I am a fairly fast reader so despite the beginner problems I had with volatile formatting–at least I told myself they were beginner problems–it took me about five hours to read. Not comparable to N K Jemesin’s Broken Earth series … but an okay read. I was told the series would improve as I went along.

Couple of days later started to look for Part Two. I did not have a list of the series beside me, and I found it next to impossible to find a sequential list in the online library catalogue. The Libby Library catalogue apparently runs on an advertisement-type schedule where they were pushing all kinds of texts somewhat but not directly related to the sequential series I was intending to read. Like they said, read me! Read me next!

If I’d been at the paper-and-print library, I would’ve looked for a completely different topic to read while waiting, so as not to confuse the story line. Nor could I check the titles in sequential order in the online version of Part One, the way I would’ve gone to the back or front of a print book to read a list of the complete series. I would’ve had to go out of the Libby app to a site like Goodreads or something. And sign in. And. And.

A moment’s work to a native of the internet. And I’ll always be a migrant. Some of the newer skills appear to be beyond me. I now have two conflicting aspects working against me. I am getting older and so slowing down. Nothing I can do about that. A fact of life. Technology is speeding up. More new ways of doing things being invented as well as well as everything going faster—more efficiently, they call that.

So yes, it took me probably three quarters of an hour to find the title of part two and put a hold on it. I don’t understand why online libraries need to have a three week borrowing limit. Not that it takes me three weeks to read most novels. Then I had to wait a week before a copy could become available to me. I chose to wait, and I chose to not cave in to the extraneous novels being offered. Lol, I realized recently that I am a dyed in the wool resistance fighter—about anything, not just digital indignities—stupid software is just the present thing.

In the meantime I tried to re-familiarize myself with the iPad software by reading a newspaper on it, and playing various games etc. They are all fine, but while I have my mobile I can’t be bothered to keep them both going. My mobile I can keep in my pocket. The iPad I need a bag for. The time rolled round for me to read part two of the series. It would’ve been just as gripping as the first, if the iPad or the app hadn’t started to muck up. Or, let me be plain, continue to muck up.

There apparently is no way in that iPad/software where I can fix the page size. So, every couple of paragraphs, the page would resize and I’d lose my place. Usually this happened half a minute or less after I’d so-called turned the page. Teeth-grindingly irritating. I probably touched it the wrong way. I looked for every way, control key, touch thingie, whatever, to try and fix, as in set the parameters, of the page format but no go. Could not find it!

After reading two and a half installments of the Throne of Glass series, I abandoned the online part of the reading project, despite having placed a hold on Tim Winton’s Juice. I just checked and hallelujah it’s now available in paperback so probably I will send for it. Tim Winton’s output I can always re read.

Posting Activity …

A month of non-activity on this blog is the result of a one week physical and mental prep followed by an anesthetic, and then three weeks to recover. Anesthetics get harder to recover from the older I am.

Seldom have I felt like doing less, and any kind of creating has been like pulling a dropped stitch from the bottom of a twenty-rows piece of knitting.

I have painted a bit, but not on my main project. I have knitted, pulled the thing undone at least twice before realizing I couldn’t produce anything intricate so better settle for something well-practiced. I have not written other than in my journal, nor edited, nor done anything else in this arena.

I did achieve a staircase in Lego in the art deco style so feel good on that score. Haven’t been down to the garden for over a fortnight, and hope my fellow residents are keeping that going.

Trying to keep body and soul together is taking all my energy at the moment. Like, doing the washing, the dishes, cooking myself three meals a day.

Not even reading that much. It’s a mystery what I do all day.

Reading Project, 15

Lol, I should be writing Part 17 by now. I knew when I started this project I’d have a hard time keeping up with the Reports. And, the longer I leave the reports, the harder it becomes remembering what I thought about the books. Well, here goes.

Book 48 … Tom Appleby, Convict Boy, by Jackie French, published in 2004 by Angus & Robertson, an imprint of Harper Collins Publishers.

When I read a book aimed at young readers, I’m often in the mode where I’m reading aloud. Asking myself whether it ‘sounds’ like an interesting read for both the adult reader and the young listener. And Tom Appleby sounds pretty good to my inner ear so I will be able to recommend it.

Although the main character starts off being only eight years old, his life will be so foreign to modern children being read to, there’s no flavor of childishness. And once the ships reach Port Jackson, Tom grows up a bit. He has to, in a community where hunger is the primary concern, and stealing food is not an option for him.

Tom is chosen by a sergeant in the marines for company for the sergeant’s son. The boys learn the skills necessary to survive together.

Though I’m not sure about the fact that they meet an old aboriginal lady who shows and teaches them native foods. Not sure how that would strike a modern Indigenous reader/listener.

Thirty years ago, Jackie French was a favorite source for read-aloud books. Seems like she could do with a revival. And the book has indeed passed on to its next home–the-adult-reader-and-young-listener combo.

Book 49 … A Simpler Time: a memoir of love, laughter, loss and billycarts, by Peter FitzSimons, published in 2010 by Harper Collins Publishers.

I’m glad FitzSimons called his book a memoir himself, saves me have to ponder once again about the differences between autobiography and memoir.

I saved this book from the dumpster because it’s set in the late 1950s and 1960s, and because the kids in it grew up at Peats Ridge, only about 39 kilometres by road and shorter as crows would fly from the suburb where my sisters and brothers and I were growing up in those exact years.

There’s even a possibility we might have met them at one or other time as we all would’ve traveled the same train services. Maybe in the school holidays or once we all graduated from our various high schools.

There were plenty of interesting comparisons and likenesses. The FitzSimon kids lived on a two-hundred-acre farm, where their parents had settled after WW2, to grow oranges, tomatoes and zucchinis. A seven days a week job.
We de Heer kids lived on a half-acre block carved out of the same kind of sandstone that supported Peats Ridge, covered with the same kind of bush that vegetated Peats Ridge. The de Heer father, also being a seven days a week man, chose to build our house himself on weekends, and after he got home from 12 hour days getting-there, working, and-getting-back.

There were five of them, there were six of us. The FitzSimons kids were boarders at Knox Grammar for Boys and Abbotsleigh Girls High. Both of them ‘flash’ private schools in the understanding of newbie immigrant kids like us. We went to state day schools like Asquith Girls High School and Asquith Boys High School, though one of my brothers managed to get a scholarship to attend James Ruse High School at Carlingford.

Our state primary schools, theirs and ours, would’ve been run by the same state education department, though theirs was a country school with only two classrooms and ours may have had 4 classrooms by then.

Peats Ridge. As soon as I picked up the book, it was like I recognized it and had to read it. Thoroughly enjoyed it and will send it to one of my youngest siblings for him to read.

Book 50 … A Banquet of Books: A Collection of Highlights, published in 2007 by the National Library of Australia.

I hardly know where I got this book. Must’ve been in the collection of secondhand books I saved from the dumpster. A job lot as they say. But an interesting little book, and about books you’d never ordinarily would see, hidden as they are among the collections or in the National Library’s acreage of store rooms.

After a brief intro, it is divided into three sections: Homegrown Historical Treasures; Masterpieces from Abroad; and Works of Art.

The introduction starts with one of the smallest books in the world—so small in fact that I don’t see how it could’ve been made—measuring 2.1 mm by 2.4 mm made in Germany in 2002. The largest book in the collection also gets a mention … Birds of America by James Audubon, 1785-1851. It’s a double elephant folio.

Part one’s Homegrown Historical Treasures includes a catalogue of fabrics (bark cloth or tapa) collected during the three voyages of Captain Cook. Part two, Masterpieces from Abroad, has a Book of Hours, and a leaf from the Gutenberg Bible and about fifteen more. Part three, Works of Art, contains Lionel Lindsay’s Twenty-One Woodcuts and Ann Muir’s Harvesting of Colour, from the 1990s, among a couple of dozen of historical maps, biographies, paintings by Gould, John Lewin, and other artists. I was amazed at the treasures the National Library has hidden away in its collections. Well worth visiting.

Book 51 … The Black Book by Ian Rankin, first published by Orion Books in 1993. This edition published in 1994 in the UK, but then printed in Australia in 2005 as far as I can make out.
I returned this to the library only yesterday and all I recall of it is that it’s the fifth in the Inspector Rebus series. Here a few more details by Wikipedia.

“The Black Book is a 1993 crime novel by Ian Rankin, [1][2] It is the first book to feature Siobhan Clarke, and the first one in which Morris Gerald Cafferty appears as a main character. It is also the first book in which Rebus is based at St Leonards police station.”

Neither awful nor fantastic, it delivered me a few hours of uninterrupted relaxation/reading when the stress of the previous couple of days meant my delayed fatigue forced me to rest up.