Sister Carrie

For my first post on the Luminous blog, I am going to jump in with the all-encompassing Sister Carrie by Theodore Dreiser. As a lit person, I probably should have read this novel a long time ago as it represents a fundamental shift in the history of the American novel. Fortunately, I was never asked any questions about it because up until last week, I thought that the main character was a nun...which I soon learned wasn't the case.
I finished the book in the wee hours of Friday morning because I couldn't put it down. I also couldn't escape the world of the book for the rest of the weekend. Dresier's detailed depictions of Chicago and New York are amazing, probably even more for those of you who live in those cities and know all of the landmarks referenced. These meticulous details filled out the world of the novel and played a large role in drawing me into the book and making me care about the characters.
Dresier also does a great job of showing both Carrie and Hurtwood as products of choice and environment. They are trapped within a system, but they are still responsible for their own decisions. Because of this, I still can't decide whether I feel bad for them as helpless victims or see them as products of their own decisions. I guess this dichotomy is why I still can't shake the book. It is definitely worth a read, even if it is just to help you avoid looking stupid when talking with lit professors!

book-a-licious...so delicious.

About a year ago I came across an image on the internet of a scene from Alice in Wonderland cut out of a book. My heart skipped a beat with excitement and I immediately printed off the image and pasted it on to my planner so that I could look at it every day. Its still there, but the mysterious creator has finally been discovered, and her name is Su Blackwell. She has tons of other awesome pieces of book art that you can drool over on her website. Take a look see for yourself, I promise you will not be disappointed.

Calling all co-authors...

Hello friends and other readers!!

Luminous is looking for some new co-authors to post about book related stuff. Books you are reading, books you want to read, books you've and loved (or maybe hated), book news, book awards. You name it. All we ask is that, should you commit to posting, you post at minimum, once a month. Seriously, could you be less obligated? Of course, we would love it if you posted more than the minimum. Interested? Or interested in at least trying it out? We can give you a free trial posting period if you are curious. Just email me (Amber) or post to this response!

Buttercups

I haven't much time for reading novels as of late, but I was reminded today of one of my all time favorite passages ever in a novel. Here it is, with some text chopped off on either end. If you find yourself entranced, you can read more in the The Brothers K by David James Duncan.

     I was hiking a south-sloping headland on the Strait this morning, trudging along in a funk the beautiful but long-lost cause of which chivalry demands I not name, when the sun burst out of the fog, and so did I, I guess, because all of a sudden I found myself standing so funkless that I felt naked in a huge marshy meadow just blazing with early summer buttercups. A sunlit lake of brilliant yellow, Natasha. With me grasping, nearly downing in the middle of it. And I’d scarcely noticed the coming of spring.

     The word “stunning” may describe the meadow. But not “stunning” the adjective: this yellow hit like a fist. This was Stunning the Noun. And it Its presence (odd as this may sound) Everett the Noun vanished.

Want proof that I vanished? Probably not, knowing you. But being the skeptical sort, I do. So let me mull this event over a little:

     You and I didn’t make it close enough to Spring for you to learn this about me, but I’ve never liked to pick flowers. Blossoming is a sexual activity, and anything engaged in sex ought, it seems to me, to be left alone. Yet in the lake of buttercups, the instant after I vanished, what remained in my place dripped Stunned to its knees and began, regardless of my opinion, to pick buttercups as fast as it could work its fingers. 

So good.