Penguin Classics

22 Feb

I love penguins. No, not the feathery, flight-less bird that manages to make me giggle every time I see them walk. I’m talking about the books, specifically the classics series with the bright orange covers that look so nice stacked next to each other on a shelf. I was in Borders during their January sale hunting for some bargains to spend my Christmas gift-cards on, (glad I didn’t leave them till now) when I stumbled across a whole shelf of the little beauties for the petite sum of $10 each. I have always been an avid reader, but still feel like I haven’t covered the ‘classics’ very well as my early teenage years found me reading more Sweet Valley High than works from the Bronte sisters.

You don’t know me that well yet, but you’ll discover that my eyes are often much bigger than my belly (my reading appetite & wardrobe also fit in this category) so walked out of the store with 10 of the delightful books in my paws and dreamt of lazy afternoons by a pool somewhere. So far, I’ve finished one- The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Toted as the ‘Iconic, Great American Novel’, which I still don’t know what that means (probably as I’m not American), but I do know that I enjoyed it. Filled with great imagery, strong characters and the essential hints of romance, affairs and mysterious old guys. I’m glad I read it before Baz Luhrmann goes and ruins it with another film adaptation, this time in 3D. ‘Gatsby in 3D?!’ I hear you moan, and just to add to the horror, Leonardo DiCaprio is playing Gatsby. I certainly won’t be watching it.

Currently I’m reading Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov which, honestly, I’m struggling with. Not because it’s a tough read, quite the opposite- it is a joy to read as it is so beautifully written, but I can’t handle the content. Again, it has the mysterious old man factor, but this time he’s a creep. Pedophile is a term I would use to describe the main character. I am only up to page 77, so maybe I’m passing judgement too early, but gosh, I can see why it caused such a stir when it was first published in the 50’s. Who in their right mind would describe tween girls as ‘nymphets’? Hairs stand up on the back of my neck when I read it, it really is just so twisted. I applaud the delicate alliteration and lyrical prose though.

My pretty little penguins

Now I’m off for some duck rolls at one of my favourite Thai restaurants. My mouth is watering in anticipation. Yum.

Gracious.

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