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Resolution Report #1

by

Lauren Roberts

On the last day of 2006, I wrote a column entitled “Reading Resolutions.” In that, I shared a set of ten reading resolutions I was making for 2007. April 1 is the end of the first quarter of the year, and I decided to report on how I am doing.

So often New Year resolutions are conveniently forgotten by now, but I wanted to see how well I have been holding to the ones I made. I was curious as to how I have done, and what worked or didn’t work. I wanted to know if I resented making them or if they had brought me joy. I do not intend to berate myself if I find that I fail to keep some or even most of them by the end of the year. Rather, I am more interested in what I learn about myself and my reading preferences or comfort/discomfort level than in adhering to a rigid set of declarations made in hope. With that in mind, here is my report to date:

1) Read a minimum of eight books considered to be classics.
For January, I started in on this resolution with a re-read of one of my favorite books—Lolita. I didn’t read this for the first time until about ten years ago, but I was immediately ensnared by it. Nabokov has an extraordinary way with words, and while there is no sexual explicitness, the author’s ability to convey the depravity is as compelling as it is disturbing. A sad, distinguished novel, one well worth reading.

In February, I focused on a short story (a novelette?) that I also listened to as an audio book during this month, “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” by Robert Louis Stevenson. It’s not new to me; I have read and listened to it so often I could probably write it out from memory. I love this story that inevitably takes me back into nineteenth century London even when I am sitting in twenty-first century traffic. 

Nearly seven years ago—it’s hard to believe it’s been that long—I was fortunate enough to see the 50th anniversary presentation of Death of a Salesman. I kept my ticket stub and a Los Angeles Times review in my copy of the play. Last month, I came across the book while dusting my shelves and pulled it out. It became my March read, an incredible story of powerlessness, madness, tenderness and humanness.

2) Read at least two collections of classical poetry, one of them Thomas Hardy.
Oops, nothing in the first quarter. But since it is April—National Poetry Month—I have begun a small inroad into satisfying this resolution. More in the next report.

3) Pick one topic and read deeply about it, enough to become a lay specialist.
 
My choice was the artist, Van Gogh, and I am pleased to say I started the newly published Vincent Van Gogh: A Self-Portrait in Art and Letters (Black Dog & Leventhal; $40) in January and finished it in late February. This glorious, gorgeous book combines reproductions of more than 250 paintings and drawings along with pages from his letters and notebooks (with new translations). 

4) Read for fun.
In these first three months, I have picked up only one book—The Haunted Bookshop—I’d term “fun.” Perhaps I should explain. All the books I read are fun reads, that is, I enjoy them or I wouldn’t bother reading them. This resolution is aimed more at books that are quick, easy-to-digest reads that are my favorite kinds of books to fall asleep by.

5) Read at least two books in genres outside my preferences.
I haven’t gotten to this resolution yet.

6) Develop one new literary interest sufficiently large to make it a new category in my library books list.
A big fat zero here. At least to date. Finding this new interest means a serious (several hour) trip to my favorite local independent bookstore, and I haven’t done that yet this year. Because I am going to look in categories where I normally don’t browse, I need more time than I might otherwise. However, I do plan to do that this month or at the latest in May.

7) Increase my audio book consumption by listening to a minimum of one audio book per month.
This is easy. I adore audio books, and in January I began (for the third time) Krakatoa by Simon Winchester. I’ve read the book about four times, and I particularly enjoy Winchester’s reading of his own work. (He’s one of the few authors who can do it well.) The reason it took me this many attempts to get through it is its length; like most of my audio books, it is unabridged. Time and other priorities simply got in the way. But this time I made room for it every couple of days. And it was worth it! I know how different the experience of hearing a book is from reading one, but every time I do this I am reminded anew. I pick up different things; I hear and feel and even “see” the words in a new light when I am listening than when I am reading. The fact that this book is one of my favorites no doubt helped. What a great choice to start off this resolution!

February is my birthday month, and while I drove down to my parents’ home, I listened (for perhaps the thirtieth time) to the story of “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” read by, of all things, a British actor named Jonathan Hyde. I find his reading unusually well done, and—I am not sure if this should alarm me or not—I have actually come to prefer the audio version to the written one. Hyde’s voice and inflections are so familiar to me that I hear them in my head whenever I pick up the book, and I find I read it with those same “inflections.” This is one time when the two versions have blended so smoothly that they have become one in my brain.

I took only a few short trips in March, so rather than start a long one, I chose a condensed audio version of a short book by Anna Quindlen. The Library of Contemporary Thought, a part of Ballantine Books, is a monthly series that “tackles today’s most provocative, fascinating, and relevant issues, giving top opinion makers a forum to explore topics that matter . . .” The books are short, only about 70 pages long, but if Ms. Quindlen’s “How Reading Changed My Life” is any indication, they are all wonderful. Alas, the book is far better since it is not condensed and the reading is in my own head—a preference when, as here, the audio book reader is an irritant. Why, oh why, did they use a male reader, and an unlikable one at that?

8) Take my books outdoors.
I live on the central coast of California, about two hours north of Los Angeles so sitting outside in January and reading is possible where it wouldn’t be in much of the country. Several of the aforementioned books went with me to the beach, a café and under my favorite tree in the front yard. It’s tempting to take them to work for my lunch hour (which is only a half-hour long), but I don’t want mayonnaise stains on them so I prefer to take discounted book catalogs and browse them while sitting on the grass by the fountain.

9) Journey around South America, Africa, New Zealand and Australia through their recent literature and nonfiction.
Another resolution yet to be started. I’ll do that on my next bookstore trip since they have a lovely selection of English translations of foreign releases.

10) Prepare one meal a month devoted to the theme of a good book.

In January, I treated myself to a culinary celebration of Indonesian foods as a tribute to Krakatoa. The meal was comprised of only one dish—Nasi Goreng (fried rice with chicken and prawns)—but oh, was it good!      
 
February, unfortunately, just didn’t happen. The weather was cold and I think Daube de boeuf Provençale, a French dish I have been wanting to try (but that takes time—and a lot of ingredients), would have been perfect with a story of Honoré de Balzac. But the month just got away from me. Oh well.

I was back on track in March, though. In the opening scene of Death of a Salesman, Willy Loman returns home late at night, startling his wife, Linda. In their ensuing conversation, she says, “Willy, dear, I got a new kind of American-type cheese today. It’s whipped.”

“Why do you get American when I like Swiss?” he demands.

So in honor of Willy and Linda Loman, I had a grilled (American-made Cheddar, not whipped) cheese sandwich and a glass of milk for dinner one night while I gave thought to this powerful human drama.   

To sum up, I actually like what has happened so far. I may be a bit behind my projected schedule, but I can honestly say I am content with where I am. It’s not perfect, but perfection is not a desirable state. It’s hard to maintain and, frankly, it’s a relief to get rid of—much like pantyhose and high heels. After all, my reading resolutions are meant to bring me joy in new ways. And by the end of next quarter I hope to report that I am still experiencing all the joy and verve that every resolution should have.


Almost since her childhood days of Mother Goose, Lauren has been giving her opinion on books to anyone who will listen. That “talent” eventually took her out of magazine writing and into book reviewing in 2000 for an online review site where she cut her teeth (as well as a few authors). Stints as book editor for her local newspaper and contributing editor to Booklist and Bookmarks magazines have reinforced her belief that she has interesting things to say about books. Lauren shares her home with several significant others including three cats, 750 bookmarks and nearly 1,000 books that, whether previously read or not, constitute her to-be-read stack. She can be reached at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it

 
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