My Bookshelf (Link-a-licious Edition)

I have often lamented (in comments, if not here) the effect that blogging has had on my book-reading habits. It would seem that the mental and temporal resources I devote to blogging are deducted directly from my real-paper-book-reading budget (though without effect, thus far, on my book-buying budget). There are many reasons that I love reading blogs, perhaps most of all for the new eyes they give me with which to see my children (as Browning’s Fra Lippo Lippi puts it, "we’re made so that we love / First when we see them painted, things we have passed / Perhaps a hundred times nor cared to see"). Community and support would be a close second. Relaxation, however, would come a good ways farther down my personal "Why read blogs?" top-ten list. Where before I might brew a cup of tea, pull out a package of chocolate-dipped shortbreads, and curl up with a good Agatha Christie novel, now I desperately skim through my Bloglines, clicking here and there, following links, answering comments, pursued the entire time by a desperate fear that I might miss something. Instead of heading up to bed at ten o’clock with a copy of Jane Eyre tucked under my arm, I read faster and faster, unwilling to head off to sleep because I haven’t finished the Internet yet.

On occasions when I do pick up a novel, I’m always soothed by its patience and faithfulness – you can put it down, and a few hours later pick it up again: it’s still there, unchanged, your bookmark still in place. There’s no hurry, no rush, no reason not to linger lovingly over each word and nuance. The growing stack of books by my bedside table is patient and longsuffering: I abandon it for my younger, hipper blogging hobby but it’s always willing to take me back. So in the spirit of reconnecting with an old friend I took a trip to the library yesterday to pick up some books I had ordered. And when I added them to the stack of books already waiting to be read, I noticed a certain pattern:

Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging – recommended by Kittenpie.

The Eyre Affair – pointed out to me by Mary-LUE.

The Birth House – reviewed by Metro Mama.

The Outlaws of Sherwood – by Robin McKinley, favourite author of Mouse.

Einstein Never Used Flash Cards – suggested by Nomotherearth.

Before I Wake – given to me by Scarbiedoll.

The Day the Babies Crawled Away – enthusiastically endorsed by The Mad Hatter.

Furthermore, I’m planning to get a hold of Mark Haddon’s latest novel (on the strength of Metro Mama’s endorsement) along with Men and Women in the Church (mentioned in passing by Pieces). And in the already-finished-and-shelved category is Mr. Darcy Takes a Wife (thanks, Blog Antagonist!). Maybe book-reading and blogging aren’t so antithetical after all.

(And Mad Hatter? I read The Day the Babies Crawled Away to Bub last night. Six times. Interrupted only so he could lean over and plant two kisses on my mouth. And the final time through I simply turned the pages silently while he described what he saw in his own words. Nothing like this has ever happened before – usually he cycles quickly through his line-up of bedtime stories, throwing in memorized phrases where they fit. I have never seen him so solemn, attentive, and moved as he was by the reunion of the babies with their mommies and daddies. Thanks for the tip.)