That Lass

It's been sadly quiet around here the past month or two...

Maybe, though, it's an authentic reflection of my personality. In real life, I'm often the person who watches and listens and doesn't say much.

But I have been posting a bit over at my new sister blog ... or ... Siamese blog (since it's still me talking).

A play on an obscure Burnett title:

That Lass O' London. Warming up to be my main microphone from January to May, when this blog will hibernate, and I will roam the streets of Great Britain.

Add it to your reader for 2010 if you're interested in hearing the tales of a writer/librarian turned nanny. There may not be many book reviews, but I guarantee plenty of interesting posts as an American girl settles in with a Kiwi family in SE London.

I'd love to have you stop by!

November Reading Log

The Vision, by Debi Pearl
I was ordered to read this, by my mother. It wasn't as bad as I was expecting it to be.

Leviathan, by Scott Westerfeld
I was ordered to read this, by my brother. It wasn't as good as I was expecting it to be. But the illustrations were amazing. And the whole alternate way to learn WWI events has its appeal.

Listening Valley, by D.E. Stevenson
Reviewed here. One of my favorite books read in 2009.

Miss Buncle Married, by D.E. Stevenson
A nice sequel, nothing fancy.

Thriving in Another Culture : A Handbook for Cross-Cultural Missions, by Jo Anne Dennett
Interesting, but not as practical as I had expected. (I must have a lot of expectations)

Miss Buncle's Book, by D.E. Stevenson
Charming, very small-village, Marple/Austen feel.

The Blue Sapphire, by D.E. Stevenson
The plots of these last few sort of ran together. Blame it on me, binging on so many Stevensons. How could one author possibly not repeat elements when writing so many novels?

Bel Lamington, by D.E. Stevenson

The Four Graces, by D.E. Stevenson

The House on the Cliff, by D.E. Stevenson

Fancy that.

Ellen Page isn't interested anymore.

Listening Valley

I was twelve when I discovered D.E. Stevenson. I had my very first job, cleaning for a neighbor, and on a shelf in her basement sat an old hardcover edition of Celia's House. It was love at first sight.

Ten years have passed since then, and I've reread the story countless times. Its charm deepened last year when I realized that, in Celia's House, Stevenson echoes every particular of Jane Austen's Mansfield Park--a sweet, neglected niece, two vain, flirtatious cousins, a dangerous wooer, a spirited theatrical production, a calm, brown-eyed cousin worthy of any girl's love. Despite Austen's undeniable artistry, though, Celia's House will always hold a higher place in my affections. It's such a lovely story--completely indebted to Jane Austen, but really, really lovely in itself, as well.

I just can't believe it took me a decade to stumble upon its companion. It was like ... unearthing a new Shakespeare. (I'm that devoted.)

Listening Valley can be read on its own, but there is beauty and order in waiting until you've finished Celia's House. And when I really think about it, instead of regretting the years I spent without Listening Valley, I can appreciate how they deepened my love for this companion novel. I knew the original so well, the characters were old friends--reacquainting myself with them through Tonia was a stronger and purer experience because of the space. I'll definitely be scouring London bookshops for this Stevenson, and rereading it just as often as Celia's House.

"Some people might think our lives dull and uneventful but it does not seem so to us. We talked of this and agreed that it is not travel and adventure that make a full life. There are adventures of the spirit and one can travel in books and interest oneself in people and affairs. One need never be dull as long as one has friends to help, gardens to enjoy and books in the long winter evenings."

Query

My sister and I were practicing background music for our grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary party, and she flipped one page too many. Suddenly we were playing "Grace Greater Than All our Sin."

Which brought on unquenchable laughter, and the question: what songs should never be sung at a wedding/anniversary?

Reminds me of that scene in Richard Peck's A Season of Gifts, the shotgun wedding on Christmas day, with the bride obviously pregnant, and the choir singing "Joy to the World," and the narrator observing that a more appropriate selection might have been, "Lo, How a Rose E're Blooming" or "For Unto Us a Child is Born."

The final cut for our grandparents' party includes one precarious choice: "The Merry Widow." It's a lovely classical piece that I refuse to omit--I just hope no one recognizes the tune. Although, on second thought, if they know enough about music to put a name to the notes, they'll appreciate the joke, and will chuckle as they shake their heads at such mischievous grandchildren.

Emma

Have you seen the BBC's new Emma with Romola Garai? I'm watching it bit by bit on Youtube, and though I had my doubts when it was first announced, I am completely captured. It's lovely.

D.E. Stevenson

“It was a very satisfactory friendship, for Barbara profited by it too. Jerry enlarged Barbara enormously. In a new friend we start life anew, for we create a new edition of ourselves and so become, for the time being, a new creature. Barbara had never done this interesting thing before. She had lived all her life in Silverstream and her neighbors were people who had known her from childhood, and therefore had a preconceived idea of her, so engrained, that they never saw her at all, any more than they saw the sponge which accompanied them daily into their baths. In creating a new Barbara for Jerry Cobbe, Barbara created a new facet of herself and was enlarged by it. She had no idea she was doing anything of the sort, of course, and she merely felt that life had become very interesting, and that she, herself, was more adequate to its demands.”

Miss Buncle Married, by D.E. Stevenson