I went on a binge of reading about eels. I’m writhing with glee. Eel imagery has haunted me for some time and finally I’m learning something about them. There was James Prosek’s Eels: An Exploration, from New Zealand to the Sargasso, of the World’s Most Mysterious Fish, and Patrik Svensson’s The Book of Eels, which is actually in translation. I liked them both, immensely. I hope to find another book about eels in the future.


in preparation for a yosemite valley adventure weekend after next, i am reading (around in) john muir’s book. his language is immense. you feel the soaring rocks and sparkling waterfalls and so forth. i’d forgot the power & poetry of the sublime. it’s been a while since i’d read the romantics. it’s like he walked hand in hand with robert burns.


i cannot believe how spectacular this book is. this is my first time reading it. if i had found it as a child…! but i am glad adulthood contains such surprises for the persistent reader. there is no end to it.

so i am reeling, positively gob-smacked, in such ecstatic bliss – especially after the enormous disappointment of MY HEART IS A CHAINSAW. which i finished, but only in a seething rage, and resisted flinging across the room on a number of occasions. i have serious complaints. particularly about the use of native american characters for seemingly no other reason than to cast them as the town drunk and pregnant teenage high school dropout. there was no true solution to the mystery; it was absurd, random and stupid. i will not be bothering the rest of the trilogy.

xxx bookworm