Library Loot is a weekly event co-hosted by Claire from The Captive Reader and Marg from The Adventures of an Intrepid Reader that encourages bloggers to share the books they’ve checked out from the library.
This week’s Library Loot is brought to you by the letter ‘e’. As in e-books. Thanks to a really bad sore throat, and a coughing wee reader, the library was not a good place for us to be this week. Argh, sick again! Luckily, there was a virtual library at my fingertips with plenty of wonderful books to browse, although I’m sadly limited to just five downloads at a time. Anyway I ended up getting just four.
Feed – MT Anderson
For Titus and his friends, it started out like any ordinary trip to the moon – a chance to party during spring break and play with some stupid low-grav at the Ricochet Lounge. But that was before the crazy hacker caused all their feeds to malfunction, sending them to the hospital to lie around with nothing inside their heads for days. And it was before Titus met Violet, a beautiful, brainy teenage girl who has decided to fight the feed and its omnipresent ability to categorize human thoughts and desires. Following in the footsteps of George Orwell, Anthony Burgess, and Kurt Vonnegut Jr., M. T. Anderson has created a not-so-brave new world — and a smart, savage satire that has captivated readers with its view of an imagined future that veers unnervingly close to the here and now.
More baths, less talking – Nick Hornby
It’s been quite a while since I’ve read Hornby’s Believer columns (collected also in The Polysyllabic Spree – the only one I’ve read, Housekeeping vs the Dirt, and Shakespeare Wrote for Money).
“Read what you enjoy, not what bores you,” Nick Hornby tells us. That simple, liberating, and indispensable directive animates each installment of the celebrated critic and author’s monthly column in the Believer. In this delightful and never-musty tour of his reading life, Hornby tells us not just what to read, but how to read.
Whether tackling a dismayingly bulky biography of Dickens while his children destroy something in the next room, or getting sucked into a serious assessment of Celine Dion during an intensely fought soccer match featuring his beloved Arsenal, or devouring an entire series of children’s books while on vacation, Hornby’s reviews are rich, witty, and occasionally madcap. These essays capture the joy and ire, the despair and exhilaration of the book-lover’s life, and will appeal equally to both monocle-wearing salonnieres and people, like him, who spend a lot of time thinking about Miley Cyrus’s next role.
The last letter from your lover – Jojo Moyes
I’ve heard lots of good stuff about Jojo Moyes’ Me Before You, but this earlier book of hers was (1) available as an e-book, yay!; (2) fit into the Postal Reading Challenge
It is 1960. When Jennifer Stirling wakes up in the hospital, she can remember nothing-not the tragic car accident that put her there, not her husband, not even who she is. She feels like a stranger in her own life until she stumbles upon an impassioned letter, signed simply “B”, asking her to leave her husband.
Years later, in 2003, a journalist named Ellie discovers the same enigmatic letter in a forgotten file in her newspaper’s archives. She becomes obsessed by the story and hopeful that it can resurrect her faltering career. Perhaps if these lovers had a happy ending she will find one to her own complicated love life, too. Ellie’s search will rewrite history and help her see the truth about her own modern romance.
Into Thin Air: A Personal Account of the Mt. Everest Disaster – Jon Krakauer
I’ve always had an interest in Nepal since my trip there… oh ages ago, in university, when we did the Annapurna Base Camp circuit. This book has been on my TBR list for a while now, but it was only recently that I actually read the synopsis. I hadn’t realised that Krakauer himself had climbed Everest, and that he himself was that close to this disaster (ok maybe the title “A Personal Account” should have tipped me off!). So yeah, I just had to go download it.
A bank of clouds was assembling on the not-so-distant horizon, but journalist-mountaineer Jon Krakauer, standing on the summit of Mt. Everest, saw nothing that “suggested that a murderous storm was bearing down.” He was wrong. The storm, which claimed five lives and left countless more–including Krakauer’s–in guilt-ridden disarray, would also provide the impetus for Into Thin Air, Krakauer’s epic account of the May 1996 disaster.
By writing Into Thin Air, Krakauer may have hoped to exorcise some of his own demons and lay to rest some of the painful questions that still surround the event. He takes great pains to provide a balanced picture of the people and events he witnessed and gives due credit to the tireless and dedicated Sherpas. He also avoids blasting easy targets such as Sandy Pittman, the wealthy socialite who brought an espresso maker along on the expedition. Krakauer’s highly personal inquiry into the catastrophe provides a great deal of insight into what went wrong. But for Krakauer himself, further interviews and investigations only lead him to the conclusion that his perceived failures were directly responsible for a fellow climber’s death. Clearly, Krakauer remains haunted by the disaster, and although he relates a number of incidents in which he acted selflessly and even heroically, he seems unable to view those instances objectively. In the end, despite his evenhanded and even generous assessment of others’ actions, he reserves a full measure of vitriol for himself.
This updated trade paperback edition of Into Thin Air includes an extensive new postscript that sheds fascinating light on the acrimonious debate that flared between Krakauer and Everest guide Anatoli Boukreev in the wake of the tragedy. “I have no doubt that Boukreev’s intentions were good on summit day,” writes Krakauer in the postscript, dated August 1999. “What disturbs me, though, was Boukreev’s refusal to acknowledge the possibility that he made even a single poor decision. Never did he indicate that perhaps it wasn’t the best choice to climb without gas or go down ahead of his clients.” As usual, Krakauer supports his points with dogged research and a good dose of humility. But rather than continue the heated discourse that has raged since Into Thin Air‘s denouncement of guide Boukreev, Krakauer’s tone is conciliatory; he points most of his criticism at G. Weston De Walt, who coauthored The Climb, Boukreev’s version of events. And in a touching conclusion, Krakauer recounts his last conversation with the late Boukreev, in which the two weathered climbers agreed to disagree about certain points. Krakauer had great hopes to patch things up with Boukreev, but the Russian later died in an avalanche on another Himalayan peak, Annapurna I.
What books did you get from the library this week?