What’s the collective noun for books?

A collection? A shelf? A library? How about a discussion or a storytelling or a chapter or a paragraph? Whatever it is, I read a lot of books the past six months. Did I mention this is a (loooong) book post?

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Ready for their closeup. The books I’ve read the past six months; not included are the two I wasn’t able to finish. The funky wooden busts styled with them are from Bali

Over the years, right around April or May I used to take stock of what I’ve read for the past months. And the list would invariably show up somewhere — back in the day, it was in journals and then more recently in various social media, albeit in a more haphazard fashion. I don’t know why I do it really, maybe because I wanted to have a record of what I read and also because April and May evoked school vacations in the Philippines, a time when I could just curl up with a good book in the middle of a hot afternoon instead of taking a siesta (afternoon nap) as my parents wanted us kids to do (to make us grow tall, they said). Now of course, I am more likely going to choose the siesta than read a book, because I’m old(er). 🙂

But at the start of this year, I told myself I would jot down each book I read as I started it just so I have a record of my reading diet — you are what you eat or read, am I right or am I right? I wrote down the titles in my desk diary — literally, an actual diary on my office desk. I am not so particular that I wrote down the title on the actual day I started reading it. I basically scribbled on those blank spaces allotted for each week/month for the diarist to write down whatever existential thought or musing he or she has. I chose to write down what I read.

The results were interesting:

  • 23 books read, 2 unfinished; so 21 books actually read cover to cover.
  • 8 = most number of books started in a month (March). Note that I said “started” because I wrote down the titles as I started reading, but did not really write down when I finished the books. But given that I usually — not always though — pick up a book when I’m done with one, it’s safe to assume that I did finish all eight books in March. Even for me — a fast reader (D says I don’t take the time to savor the books and devour them like fast food, a claim I wholeheartedly deny) — this was, er, impressive… and a bit frightening.
  • 1, unfinished = least number of books read in a month (April). What was I doing in April?? A quick glance at my diary revealed that I was drowning in work that month, apparently.
  • Genres covered: They run the gamut, from historical romance, to thrillers, to a memoir. Was tempted to enumerate the books per genre, but after attempting to classify several of them, I ended up confusing myself and stopped. Let’s just say that many of them can be classified under different categories and I will never be a competent librarian, haha!

So what have I been reading? Here’s a list (as they appeared in my diary) and capsule reviews:

Continue reading What’s the collective noun for books?

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Lou Reed: Two songs

Lou Reed died two days ago. A giant has passed. I grew up in an era when musicians were directly influenced by Lou Reed and Velvet Underground. In fact, it’s been said that those who listened to them during that time went out and formed a band, many of which went on to become successes themselves. But his music — and Velvet Underground’s — is not easy to like. It requires a certain mood and outlook to get into it. They’re not really songs per se, but more like novels. As I grew older though, I finally got his music. I guess it requires a certain maturity and some living to finally get into that place where I “get” him.

Here, two songs that, while not exactly the ones that made him and his band famous, showcase his range as a musician, traveling from the dark melodies he trafficked in to almost sunny ditties that are at once melodic and melancholic. (And somewhere in Long Piddleton, Melrose Plant, Earl of Caverness and Lou Reed aficionado, must be raising a glass of Guinness to toast his fallen hero.)

 

PS: Neil Gaiman wrote a really touching tribute to the man: Neil Gaiman on Lou Reed. If not for Reed, Sandman would not exist. My universe just shifted.