Something that people do on blogs is write about what they're into (see previous post concerning Rabbits, Manicures, and Owl Tats). Other things that people are into--and should into be one word or two?--include: handmade crafts, home-cooked meals, and their children. Of which, I've got none. No handmade crafts, unless you count the unibrows I draw onto the faces of models in magazines. No home-cooked meals, although I am tempted to take a photo of my bowl of cereal and give detailed instructions for how to make it. And, no children (but remember the plants--I've got those two adorable houseplants).
Anyway, something I am into is books I've liked reading. Aren't people always looking for interesting new books to read? Isn't it worth talking about? Then, dear imaginary reader, consider Angela Carter's Nights at the Circus.
Nights at the Circus tells the story of Fevvers, a Junoesque woman with a remarkable pair of feathery wings growing where her shoulder blades should be. She's got a wild Cockney accent (get it, "Fevvers" is Cockney for "feathers"), a mysterious, mustached foster-mother with special powers, and again, the wings. Then, a journalist falls in love with her (who wouldn't, she's a total charmer), and sneaks into the circus as a clown so he can follow her around the world. They find themselves train-wrecked in Siberia, and, well, I've got to stop there. But if you like love stories about circus freaks in the Siberian tundra--who doesn't--I recommend it. Also, if you, like me, believe there is something serious, sad, downright tragic about clowns, then you must read this book. I won't show you crafts, or pies made from scratch, but I'll plug a good book to my nonexistent reader when the mood strikes me.
(Angela Carter also has one of the best stories I've ever read, "The Fall River Axe Murders," about Lizzie Borden. Here is a picture of Carter (look at those cheekbones!).)
"The child's laughter is pure until he first laughs at a clown." A. Carter
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