What Kind Of A Week Has It Been

Yep, the title's a blatant rip-off of West Wing's What Kind Of A Day Has It Been, but, it does fit. For what it's worth, due apologies to Sorkin.

Some of you may have read my post on my MacBook's broken fan, at the beginning of the month. Well, despite much wishing and hoping, Apple haven't released anything this month, so, I strutted across to the Apple Store yesterday, and bought myself a new laptop. I was exhausted of using my laptop as a word processor only, when I'm accustomed to using it as my media centre. So, a shiny new 13" MacBook Pro is finally mine, and I'm well happy about it. Love it already. Spent most of yesterday and this morning transferring my files across, and sync'ing up both laptops. Mission accomplished.

I also finished Toni Morrison's Song Of Solomon which I was reading along with Claire (PaperbackReader). All I'll say at this point is, the experience was the polar opposite of A Mercy.

Finally, I'm reading Pride and Prejudice, which is incidentally my first Austen. Am loving it so far, and while I would have loved to finish it in February itself, I don't see it happening. So far, I'm really enjoying it, and hope the book continues in this vein. I do love the style of writing! Mee had invited a bunch of Austen first-timers to read this in February, so, in the next week or so, pop around to hers to see how everyone else got on!

It's been a fantastic Female February, and at the end of the month, I have a "new best friend" (that's what the guy at the Apple Store said) as well, so, in the words of a famous playwright, "all's well that ends well."

Phew! Irony of ironies... it's been a long month!

Angela Carter - Several Perceptions

I discovered the wonderful world of Angela Carter only last year, and I've been trying to read all her works slowly, savouring every moment of it. Of course, the bonus is the gorgeous covers, which draws me to her books like a moth.... The thing with Several Perceptions is, it's totally unlike anything I've read before. "Down the rabbit hole" would be one way to describe it, as we join Joseph, a disillusioned young man, in the 1960s, as he grapples with the meaning of life. Set in the Bohemian 'flower power' era, the people we meet fit some of the much talked about 1960s stereotypes: nature lovers, infrequent bathers, and people roaming the streets barefoot.

Joseph, it seems, is going through a very early midlife crisis. His girlfriend has moved on without him, and he's just listless, as he sees some less than ideal things around him: Vietnam, children taunting an old man with an imaginary fiddle, the caged badger in the zoo...

After a failed suicide attempt, Joseph tries to return to life, pulling all kinds of crazy stunts - some hilarious, some psychotic. They seem equally balanced between being well thought out and impulsive, and one just wonders what unexpected event is going to occur next.

If Joseph's adventures with his friends and neighbours isn't addictive enough to read about, we also meet his psychiatrist, and gain some more insight into the way the mind works for some people!

"I bet those lepers hated St. Francis," he added unexpectedly. "Fancy having a perfect stranger come up and kiss you just 'coz you've got a skin infection, just to show off what a big heart he had, you never hear the leper's side of the story. What if a leper out of the blue had jumped up and kissed St. Francis. I bet St. Francis would have been ever so affronted."

While I didn't enjoy this book as much as The Magic Toyshop, I still found it to be a witty fascinating book, and loved the characters - the fact that they all seemed polar opposites of one another. There are multifarious allusions to a myriad of things: from Alice In Wonderland, to Freud! It seems like a completely different world, with completely different rules, which change every moment of every day. In the words of Queen, "Easy come, easy go" just about sums up Joseph's life.

Just discovered that this is Carter's third book, and was written right after The Magic Toyshop. The subjects she deals with are so different, but, she still does an incredible job of holding the whole plot together, without overdoing the hyperbolism.

Nancy Huston - Fault Lines

It's the third book I've read this year, where the narrative goes chronologically backwards - the difference being, this time, it follows four generations of six year olds, starting in 2004 and ending in 1944-45. Sol, a six year old in 2004, believes the world revolves around him, and that he's a genius. Brought up in a pro-Bush environment (Jesus wept), he seems to have a perverse side, as he browses the internet for pictures from the war in Iraq - dead soldiers, raped women, and, there's a reference to the Nick Berg execution as well. This section of the book, to me, highlighted how children today are becoming less innocent and more worldly than back when I was six! Google seems to be playing a massive role in that! To be honest, he almost reminded me of Stewie from Family Guy.

I can feel it      Sol's soul      feel it is eternal and immortal       one in a million billion googol        one that will change the world.

I'm the Sun King, Only Sun and Only Son, Son of Google, Son of God, Eternal Omnipotent Son of the World Wide Web.

The second section goes back in time to 1982, where we meet Sol's father, Randall, at the age of six. Living in New York, playing ball in Central Park, and climbing the jungle gym in the playground defined his life, until, his mother, Sadie, decides to move the entire family to Israel to find out more about her own mother's childhood (and Lebensborn/The Fountain of Life) - a subject her mother, Erra, is quite silent about. While initially unhappy about the move, Randall makes his peace with it. He even enjoys learning Hebrew, and befriends a Palestinian girl in Israel... of course, things don't quite end well on that front. It's quite interesting to note how differently the Palestinians and the Israelis view their history, and their presence in Haifa - as the Palestinian girl relates the story she's been fed by her parents, and confuses the six year old.

Moving further back in time, we come face to face with Sadie, a miserable six year old, with minimal self-esteem and excessive self-doubt. An illegitimate child, she craves her mother's attention more than anything else in the world, but as her mother, Erra, is a famous singer and always busy with tours and the like, Sadie lives with her grandparents, who are strict and have no time for her emotions. They want to ensure that Sadie doesn't end up the same way as Erra.

And finally, we go back to Erra's past in the mid 1940s - the crux of the book. Sadie has devoted her life trying to understand her mother better, and going through historical scholarly reports to find out more about her, as Erra is quiet on the subject. Yet, the reader only finds out some truths about Erra's life in this final narrative - and even then, some elements remain unclear and hazy.

While this was an interesting book, dealing with innumerable controversial and heavy topics, I think the author took away a lot of the complexities by showing the world through the eyes of six year olds. Worryingly though, the six year olds were extremely fluent and verbose, to the extent that they didn't really sound like six year olds! Is that war does to children? Make them grow up faster than they should have to? Or, in this case, it's the family's history that makes children who they are?

The book, despite dealing with innumerable heavy topics (spanning over half a century, and some major historical events), is relatively easy to read, and there's a fair few bits that made made my eyes round with incredulity - specially in the first section.

Have you read this book? Were you as taken aback by Sol's character as I was?

Also, do you find reading books set in the 21st century, with numerous references to Google slightly bizarre? I can't pinpoint why, but in a way, I do...

Lack of Updates

I almost feel like i've disappeared from the blogosphere... unfortunately, I have a reason - a very annoying one! My MacBook's suffering from a broken fan. Every few minutes, it overheats and shuts down. I can't multitask on it, and can't use it for much as things stand. I've not been as diligent in commenting as I'd like to, and so many random posts have fallen by the wayside. All in all, it's very depressing. So, I'm using my iPhone to type this post up, and get a feel off wordpress on the phone. Don't really have any complaints so far, but reckon writing reviews will be a bit of a nightmare.

Yep, I know what you're thinking: why don't I just get myself a new laptop? Well, I want to - but, I blame Apple. See, their new range of MacBook Pros are due to be announced imminently, and I don't want to purchase the present model, as the hardware is archaic. And no - don't even suggest Windows. There are some things I feel very strongly about. Using Windows more oft' than I have to is one of them!! I have contemplated getting a Linux box, but, I do adore the Unibody MacBook Pros.

So, I'll try updating my blog regularly - even if it is just a few lines from my phone. Do apologise for the lack of comments, and posts. Hopefully, blogging from this won't be all that bad (for my eyes and the onset of RSI).

Enjoy the weekend.

Alice Munro - Runaway

As some of you may already know, I'm not a big fan of short stories. So, when I started this collection, I was almost prepared to be underwhelmed and dissatisfied. Yet, I had heard wonderful things about Munro, and figured I really should give at least one collection a try. Worst case, I'll shelve it mid-way. Boy, it's time to eat my words, for I absolutely loved this collection. My usual complaints about plot depth and shallow characterisations fall short, simply because of Munro's writing style. She keeps it short, succinct, simple, and portrays real people at particular moments in time - those moments in time when they're at their weakest, most vulnerable, or most reflective. The history is irrelevant. The future still unseen.

She hopes as people who know better hope for undeserved blessings, spontaneous remissions, things of that sort.

There are eight stories in the collection, each with a one word title. While I could delve into what each story is about, I shall refrain from doing so. It's pointless summarising eight different short stories, simply because I don't think I'll be able to do any justice to them. And then of course, there's the threat of a spoiler....

I will say this though, the first (and title) story of the collection didn't really do it for me, but the subsequent stories were wonderful. Three of them featured the same protagonist at different stages of her life - as an academic, a young mother, and then her return to academia, and those three stories stood out, in my opinion. Both, Trespasses and Tricks were wonderful, and there was something incredibly refreshing about them.

Apologies for the short review, and lack of detail, but I think it's something you have to pick up on your own to enjoy. There's no hero. No villain. No victim. It's just regular people. Another place, another time, and it could just as easily be you or me.

As I'm re-thinking my stance on short-stories, do you have any to recommend? Have you read anything by Munro? Would you endorse other collections by her?

Muriel Spark - A Far Cry From Kensington

Sometimes, I wonder about myself. Half way through this Fantastic February Female Frivolities (I like alliterations, love double alliterations...), I realised I hadn't picked out a single Virago Modern Classic. Like I said, sometimes, I do wonder about myself. Anyway, the minute this hit me, I reached out for the first VMC I could find on my shelf, and here you have it: Muriel Spark's A Far Cry From Kensington. I haven't read anything by Muriel Spark before, and to be honest, I've always been kind-of intimidated by her works. I wasn't quite sure as to what to expect with A Far Cry From Kensington, but I definitely didn't expect it to be such an easy read - easy enough to finish in just one sitting!

Narrated by Mrs. Hawkins, a war widow, A Far Cry From Kensington is her reflections on a post-War London when she stayed in a "rooming house" in South Kensington, and worked in publishing houses in the early 1950s. Mrs. Hawkins is a likeable narrator - she doesn't hesitate to call a spade a spade, and there's no beating around the bush. Even when she talks about herself, she's direct, honest, and slightly hyperbolic - always good attributes in a story-teller.

There was something about me, Mrs Hawkins, that invited confidences. I was abundantly aware of it, and indeed abundance was the impression I gave. I was massive in size, strong-muscled, huge-bosomed, with wide hips, hefty long legs, a bulging belly and fat backside; I carried an ample weight with my five-foot-six of height, and was healthy with it.

One of the unwritten items on the job spec at a publishers is being diplomatic. While Mrs. Hawkins was well-liked and respected by everyone around her (even her boss confided in her), diplomacy wasn't her strongest asset. On calling an aspiring author, Hector Bartlett, pisseur de copie (a urinator of 'frightful prose') to his face, she finds herself in hot water - the author had a strong relationship with a famous influential authoress, Emma Loy, and she was looking out for him. Inevitably, Mrs. Hawkins lost her job, but the two authors (one famous, the other still unpublished) continued to plague her career, as she herself refused to withdraw the remark.

The secondary thread of the novel revolves around the other inhabitants in the housing, and how they bond together. Wanda, the Polish dressmaker receives an anonymous letter, which threatens to expose her to Inland Revenue for not paying her taxes, and the poor woman is convinced that she will be deported. Mrs. Hawkins (and the other residents) try to sleuth around, eliminating all possible suspects one by one... and then the episode slips to the back of their minds, until Wanda receives an intimidating phone call. The cycle repeats.

The book represents the post-War London, where people from different backgrounds are still affected by the horror of war, but, they're taking on the challenges to make a new life, almost optimistically. Throw in some extortion (fraudulence), some homosexuality, a budding love, humour, wit and even radionics (!), and you've got yourself an absorbing fascinating story, with vivid realistic characters - some awful, some immense. For instance, Hector Bartlett really is a pisseur de copie, but, by the time the book comes to a close, that's not the only phrase you'll use to describe him!

Oh, and let me repeat a small part of the opening paragraph of the book, for it drew me in immediately, and I felt compelled to keep flipping the pages. Even when I flipped to the last page, I almost felt as though I should go back and start from page one.

Can you decide to think? - Yes, you can. You can put your mind to anything most of the time. You can sit peacefully in front of a blank television set, just watching nothing; and sooner or later you can make your own programme much better than the mass product. It's fun, you should try it. You can put anyone you like on the screen, one or in company, saying and doing what you want them to do, with yourself in the middle if you prefer it that way.

Have you read any Muriel Spark? Do you have any recommendations as to what I should read next?

Maya Angelou - I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings

I've wanted to read this book for ages, simply for the title, which is one of the most beautiful titles I've ever come across. So, I finally picked it up, and it's probably one of the most beautiful autobiographies I've ever read. On reading the blurb, I thought it would be similar to the Pulitzer Prize winning The Color Purple. While both books have a prominent thread of racism running through, the similarities end there. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings is the coming-of-age story of Maya Angelou, born Marguerite Ann Johnson, set in Stamps (Arkansas), St. Louis and San Francisco. Initially, she lives in Stamps with her brother, Bailey, her grandmother who she calls Momma, and her Uncle Willie. Momma, a no-nonsense unemotional religious Christian, owns the only store around, and is respected and well-liked by all - whites and blacks. While their parents are in California (doing goodness knows what), Momma brings the two children up, with proper morals and values. In fact, when Maya uses the phrase "by the way" passingly, she is admonished for using the Lord's name in vain. And she cannot admit to liking Shakespeare, as he was white.

If growing up is painful for the Southern Black girl, being aware of displacement is the rust on the razor that threatens the throat.

It is an unnecessary insult.

When Maya was eight, she went to live with her mother at St. Louis, and was subsequently raped by her mother's then boyfriend. The boyfriend was later killed by her uncles, after the court sentenced him to just about a year in prison, but he was released immediately. This incident casted a shadow over the next few years of her youth, as she was convinced that she had blood on her hands.

However, this wasn't the only thing that cast a shadow in her life: there was the white dentist who Momma had lent money to during the Depression, but when Maya needed her teeth looked at, the dentist refused saying he'd rather put his hand in a dog's mouth. When she graduated eighth grade, and thought she had the whole world in her hands, a speech given by one of the "visitors" served a reminder that the students having ambitions higher than being maids, farmers, handymen and washerwomen were being farcical and presumptuous.

There was the world of the "whitefolk" and the "powhitefolk," both of which were prejudiced against the blacks, despite some of the powhitefolk not having as much as some of the blacks did. There was the emotional upheaval when their father picked them up from Stamps to take them to St. Louis. And of course, the confusion when they returned to Stamps, back to the safe and righteous Momma.

Yet, this book isn't written from the point of view of a "victim" - instead, it' a young girl willing to achieve what she wants against all odds, and her profound insights into the world she lives in - the only world she knows. She talks openly about how her brother is her world, her admiration for one of Momma's customers, the conflicting feelings on meeting her mother - a stranger - again. There's no beating around the bush, no meanderings - just calling a spade a spade. It's innocent and beautifully written. Each chapter can be read as a stand alone story, which, when put together forms a thought-provoking read.

People whose history and future were threatened each day by extinction considered that it was only by divine intervention that they were able to live at all. I find it interesting that the meanest life, the poorest existence, is attributed to God's will, but as human beings become more affluent, as their living standard and style begin to ascend the material scale, God descends the scale of responsibility at a commensurate speed.

I absolutely loved this book, and can't recommend it highly enough. This book is the first of the six autobiographies she wrote, and I'll try picking up the next in the volume, as the ending of the first book does make you wonder about how it all ties in, eventually.

Sarah Waters - The Night Watch

Sarah Waters' The Night Watch is the third novel I've read by her, and it's as different as the previous two as it can be. While one was a gothic ghost story set in Warwickshire (The Little Stranger), the other was a Victorian thriller (Fingersmith). And then we have this: a book set (mostly in) London during and after World War II. The book moves chronologically backwards - the opening section starts in 1947, followed by a chunk set in 1944 and finally in 1941. While nothing much happens in the opening section, it does define the state of the main protagonists, and how the years of war have led to their present situation - which isn't exactly joyous.

Maybe it's right after all, what the newspaper prophets say: that one gets paid back in the way one deserves. Maybe we've forfeited our right to happiness, by doing bad things, or by letting bad things happen.

There's Kay, a lonely figure, who is a lesbian and spent the war years being a female ambulance driver, and playing hero. Now, she wanders the streets and goes to the cinema, sometimes just to watch half the movie.

Then we meet Duncan, a young boy who lives with his "Uncle." During the years of war, while most men were being drafted, Duncan was in another kind of hell, which led to his relationship with his family deteriorating further. He now draws comfort from his older sister, Vivian, the only person in the family who still seems to care about him. However, Vivian is fighting her own battles - in a relationship with a married soldier - a secret she harbours closely; Duncan being the only one privy to it. She works with the fourth primary protagonist, Helen, in a matchmaking office, as they try to find the "right" person for whoever enters their office.

Helen, also a lesbian, is in a loving relationship with Julia, a famous author. Yet, her jealousy and paranoia seems go beyond the natural, and one has to wonder as to why...

1944, when the war was at its worse and "blackout" was enforced, the characters real stories come to life, and it's not pretty. Nothing about war is pretty. Kay's work as an ambulance driver sees her recover as many carcasses as people who can actually be helped... maybe even more. She tries to protect those younger and less impressionable, and seems to do the humane thing, as opposed to being a stickler for rules. In the end, she was my favourite character - by far.

We see a horrific botched abortion, by a dentist, and its consequences; discover the houses which are now merely rubble and stone; walk the streets of London with the characters - be it with two women starting an affair, or two other women trying to rescue as many people as they can! Not only do we discover Duncan's past, but, we also witness the meeting of the "glamour girl" Vivian with the soldier, Reggie, in a train lavatory!

Little symbols are scattered through the book - Vivan clutching a gold ring in her hand, and then transferring it to its rightful owner; the most beautiful pair of pyjamas as a birthday present which were never worn; Duncan's job making night lights. The significance of each of these symbols, despite being introduced in the first section, isn't quite apparent immediately. Yet, as you read on, the jigsaw starts coming together and making more sense.

Yet, for everything I liked about this book, I didn't actually love it. Not at all. The lesbianism was overdone, and some of the descriptions was unnecessary. There seemed to be more emphasis on the sexuality of the characters than the actual horror of war, at times. Also, to me (and I might be wrong here), the inclusion of Duncan was simply to have a male perspective as well, but his character, despite being an interesting one, didn't really add much to the story. The authenticity of some of the intertwining stories defied logic (e.g. Reggie-Vivian), and I was left feeling quite confused about Duncan and "Uncle" Horace's relationship.

If you're a Sarah Waters fan, I'd suggest reading it, but, if not, I'd give it a miss. It's nowhere near as good as Fingersmith, so like me, if you are seeking a repeat of that experience, I'd suggest heading in the other direction.

February Reading Plans

I've disappeared into the oblivion again, but, in my defence, work's caught up with me and my exhaustion levels have hit new highs. This is just a quick post, about my February reading plans. I still have my weekly 2666 post to do, and another review coming up, but, let's put that on hold for now. So, February! I'm a sucker for alliterations, so here's to what I call Female February, i.e. a month of reading female authors only. I've not done that in ages. Plus, as March starts with the letter, "M," it makes good sense. Well, to me anyway. And sometimes, themed reading is a good thing!!

1. Toni Morrison - Song of Solomon : My first experience with Toni Morrison didn't go too well, but Claire mentioned that she's reading it this month, and asked me to join in. So, I'm giving her another shot, last week of the month.
2. Nancy Huston - Fault Lines : This book was shortlisted for the Orange Prize in 2008, and I picked it up randomly sometime last year... just never got 'round to reading it. Now is as good a time as any, I guess.
3. Alice Munro - Runaway : Again, I picked this up last year, and it just completely slipped my radar. Saw it on the Waterstone's Books of the Decade, and figured it's time I read it.
4. Maya Angelou - I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings : This has been on my TBR forever! Am really really looking forward to this one.
5. Sarah Waters - Night Watch : I've really enjoyed both the Sarah Waters I read last year, and intend to read all the books by her. Three more to go... reckon I can do it this year.
6. Jane Austen - Pride and Prejudice : I've never read a Jane Austen novel! I might be the only one in the blogosphere who hasn't... Mee is hosting a readalong for Pride and Prejudice first timers. I fit the bill, so I joined in!

That's my February plan as of now. How 'bout yours?

Erich Segal - Doctors

With a single exception they were all white. And with five exceptions, all male.

Doctors follows the Harvard Medical School's Class of 1962 through the hell of medical school, fatigue of the internship and residency, and battles as doctors once they've chosen their speciality. Not only does it focus on the professional demands of medicine, but also on the life and loves of the graduates.

It seems as though the book spans multiple eras, from the Spanish Civil War, to World War II, to Vietnam; from a time when women, Jews and blacks were discriminated against, to Martin Luther King's I Have A Dream speech; from the time when doctors worried more about the legal consequences of their actions before helping a dying patient to - well, some things never change.

The central characters of the book are the two best friends from Brooklyn: Laura and Barney. Both follow their dreams of becoming doctors for different reasons: for Laura, it's survivor's guilt; for Barney, it's having a father figure in Laura's father, as his own father was away at war for most of his childhood. The first chunk of the book revolves around the two families, before the curtains open for the reader to be introduced to various other characters: Bennett Landsmann, a black aspiring surgeon whose parents are Holocaust survivors; Seth Lazarus, a brilliant student who hates watching patients suffer more than anything else; and Peter Wyman, an obnoxious intelligent doctor, whose ambition is to be simply the best. There are many more characters, but, I think those three were the most powerful.

In their years at Harvard, the class sees their fellow classmates attempt suicide (and in some cases, succeed), pop pills, or be addicted to some caffeine source or the other. They dissect their first cadaver, open up breathing dogs, and need to know the names of all the bacteria that exist on the teeth! Yet, taking a step back from medicine, there's the Malpractice Cup: a basketball game between the Law School and the Medical School; facing family problems like their mother turning into a lay sister and the father going to Cuba as Castro's got the right idea; falling in love and moving on.

When they move on to the real world, things get more complicated. Identity crises, relationships souring over the demands of their chosen profession, moral dilemmas over euthanasia take center-stage (and the courtroom), one of the doctors is unable to continue in his stream due to no fault of his, but through it all, their friendships stay tight: Barney and Laura; Barney and Bennett; Laura and Grete. And when push comes to shove, the most unlikely of the classmates comes through as well.

The ordinary person worships doctors as if they're gods; if not gods, at least super-humans. However, this book is an insight into how flawed doctors are as people (almost each of them was talking to a shrink by the end of the book), and the kind of things that drive them, and the kind of things that break them. It's funny in bits, heartbreaking in others and Erich Segal does a wonderful job of bringing the emotions and characters to life, such that you feel like you've known them (and liked them... or disliked them) forever.

Jennifer Dawson - The Ha-Ha

The Ha-Ha is Jennifer Dawson's first novel, published in 1961. It follows the life of Josephine, a young woman with a mental illness, that often leaves her in hysterics, after she has been removed from Oxford and committed to a mental institution.

As we sat there I could even see the even-toed ungulates marching through the waste, and files of armadillos with scaly shells, and hosts of big black flies. The door opened...it was only the made in a starched cap carrying the silver kettle, but the laugh I gave shocked even the Principal.

A German refugee sister, and a fellow patient, Alasdair, push Josephine towards "normalcy," encouraging her to contemplate life after she's been released from the clinic (on being "regraded"), to find friends, interact with the outside world, instead of being perfectly happy within the boundaries of the clinic. However, the question does arise: can that do more harm than good?

“The committee? Regrade? I knew they graded eggs and milk, I did not know that they also had this word for humans. Regrade me?…As what?”

I think the quote above sums up the book - despite touching upon sensitive subjects, Josephine is smart, and witty. Despite being oblivious to the norms of society, and how to conduct "normal" conversations, she's profound and imaginative, and appreciates life for what it is, in an almost uncomplicated manner.

The afterword, in fact, gives us more of an insight into the book. Written after the Mental Health Act was passed in 1959.

The book was written in that loophole between this Act of Parliament and the libertarian mental-health movement of the mid-sixties and early seventies where voices grew louder as they suggested that physical treatment, the pads and cooling-off rooms, locked doors, and even drugs and informal, voluntary confinement of the mentally ill were socio-political violence against the real, non-conforming voices of our under societies.

Dawson herself spent six months in a hospital, after a breakdown, and Josephine's outlook seems to be an insight into Dawson's experience itself. Small gestures, like a hidden chocolate under the pillow, mean so much, as does companionship and someone to talk to; someone who discusses an escape, shows a different life, and treats one with love and respect.

Disbelief

While reading the news this morning, I read that Erich Segal had recently passed on. Now, I read the same, about JD Salinger. Frankly speaking, I'm shocked beyond belief. Yes, I know Salinger was 91, and Segal was over 70, but I'm finding it difficult to come to terms with this - both authors shaped much of my teenage reading. In fact, the first romantic book I actually liked was Segal's Only Love (incidentally, my first Segal). Soonafter, I read Love Story, Prizes, The Class, Oliver's Story, Man Woman And Child, and loved them all. Must've been fourteen when I read them all, and I sought Love Story time and again, simply for it's beautiful simple writing. The opening line will stay with me forever : What can you say about a 25-year-old girl who died? And of course, there's the cheesy Love means never having to say you're sorry.

And then there's JD Salinger... I don't even know where to start. Barring 2009, I've read Catcher In The Rye at least once a year. I read it for the first time when I was fourteen (again), and fell in love with Holden Caulfield. He reminded me of myself, which some people say is worrying. I didn't find it that worrying. In fact, I found it endearing - a fictional character who is that much of an idealist, mocks pretentiousness (phoniness), is over-protective about his younger sister, and loves digressions. In fact, for the longest time, Catcher was my comfort read - whenever upset or depressed, I'd pick it up and just flip through the pages. It always cheered me up. After that experience, I was scared to pick up another Salinger, lest it disappointed. I'm still scared...

And now, ten years later, I just think it's a sad day for literature. I know I haven't read a Segal in forever, but, I can't forget the days of reading his works again, and again. Words really can't capture how much both authors mean to me, and just how shell-shocked I am at the moment.

I'm going to dig out my copy of Catcher in the Rye tonight. As well as the only Segal I have here : Doctors. And read both, and lose myself in the beautiful world that existed when I was fourteen... at least I knew it, I loved it, and I remember it affectionately.

RIP Mr. Segal. RIP Mr. Salinger. And my thoughts do go out to your families and friends. And, I can't thank you enough for everything you've given me.