When I started knitting, my reading was sharply curtailed. I'm not one of those folks who can read and knit at the same time. Maybe if I had four hands...
However, since my knitting mojo is taking a bit of a holiday, I've been reading a couple of classics from our friends across the pond.
1. The Canterbury Tales, unexpurgated, by Geoffrey Chaucer (translated by David Wright). I knew they were supposed to have their racy bits, but I almost dropped my tea the first time I saw the C word. I mean, this was in the 1300s. On the other hand, this was the 1300s, not that far removed from England's Anglo Saxon past. Now, every time I go to a book store, I check out the passage I just read to see how different translators handled it.
2. Casino Royale by Ian Fleming. I've been telling the Pikers for months that we need to commemorate Fleming's centenary in May, and since I've never read any of the books, I thought I should check out the source documents. I'll probably end up writing something for the Piker Press about this experience, but suffice it to say, the Hollywood James Bond is considerably different from the Bond of the books, in ways that surprise me, and ways that don't. They are also quick reads. They look to be about 50,000 words - same as a standard Harlequin romance, or a NaNoWriMo novel.
2 comments:
I'm waiting for Danny's attention span to tolerate being read Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. We have his Auntie's old mangled hardcover waiting on the bookshelf.
I always forget Flemming wrote it, and then remember and think, "Hey, cool. Actually, I think, "Toot Sweet."
Er, "Fleming."
Post a Comment