Literary Journeys: First Grave on the Right by Darynda Jones

I recently read First Grave on the Right by Darynda Jones and highly recommend.

It's a funny paranormal romance about Charlie Davidson, who's a private investigator and also happens to be the grim reaper. Yep, she sees dead people, which makes her very useful to her uncle, who's a homicide detective. But she's also being haunted (more or less) by some kind of supernatural being who gives her amazing sex dreams that begin to eek into her waking life. Hawt.

I like that the female protagonist is a strong woman with a wicked sense of humor and a devil-may-care attitude. She's similar to Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum (another series I like), but slightly less dependent on men to bail her out of rough situations all the time. (Slightly.) I like that it's a quick read. I like that I got sucked into it immediately (while standing in the middle of Fred Meyer at the sale books table) and it didn't let go until I was done.

I can't wait to buy the next one in the series (out in paperback), except I will wait because I know I'll want to devote an entire day to doing nothing else.

Paris vs. Madrid: Revisited

I've noticed that one of the most common search terms that directs people to this blog is "Paris vs. Madrid," so I went back and read the post I'd written in November 2007 (four months into my year there). I cringe a little bit at reading it now. I don't disagree with it, but I have a different perspective because I learned a lot more about Madrid and visited Paris twice more after I wrote it, so I'd like to follow up with some further thoughts about the relative merits and disadvantages of each city.

Cost

Hands down, Madrid is far more affordable than Paris. The average cost of a fixed price menu in Madrid was around €8 in 2008, where the average cost in Paris was around €12. A cup of café con leche in Madrid was around €1.30, compared to €2.50 in Paris. Transportation via metro system is the only thing that's relatively comparable. In Paris it's only slightly more expensive: €1.70 for a one-way trip anywhere in Zone 1 vs. €1.50 to go anywhere in Madrid's Zone A.

Transportation

Speaking of the metro system, I want to add that Madrid's metro system is much easier to get around in than Paris's. As I mentioned in that earlier post, it's newer and cleaner too. Getting around in Paris's Zone 1 isn't bad, but trying to get to Charles de Gualle airport by train was a nightmare. For the life of me I could not figure out how to read the schedules (why is it so hard???). Made it eventually, but with much hassle.

Language

You may have heard that people in Madrid don't speak English and people in Paris do; that's about 75% correct. Most people in Madrid know at least a little English, but they won't speak it because they're too shy or embarrassed. Just as you are shy or embarrassed to try speaking Spanish, perhaps? My experience is that Madrileños really appreciate it when you make an effort to speak Spanish and will be very generous and patient with you. It is true though that people in Paris also speak English, and they are far more willing to do so.

I have also heard that Parisians are extremely rude about non-native speakers trying to speak French, but this has not been my experience. I talk a lot to random people when I travel because I spend a lot of time in cafés and bars and restaurants (nom nom), so I do have some basis for an opinion here. Of all the people I spoke French with, there was only one person, a waiter, who seemed snotty about my imperfect language skills, and the solution to that was to go to the café next door instead. Easy. Otherwise, the people I spoke with in Paris seemed very pleased that I was making an effort, and they would teach me a little, in a kind, encouraging way.

People

I found lovely people in both places, but I find Madrileños to be more friendly in general. You just have to understand that friendly in Spanish culture does not mean greet-you-with-a-smile, and their communication style is much more direct. In English we might say, "What would you like today?" In Spanish they'll say, "What do you want?" It's not rudeness to them. It's informal, which is how they like it. I wrote a post about this on the TtMadrid blog back when I was living there. Check it out. I would say that if you are being ignored in a bar or restaurant, probably it's because you failed to greet them when you walked in. Always say "Hola" and try to make eye contact when you enter any store, bar, restaurant, etc. It's just good manners.

This post is bordering on too long, but stay tuned for more follow-up. I've been reminiscing about my favorite places to go in each city.

Literary Journeys: The Book of the Dun Cow

A few weeks ago my friend Joe loaned me The Book of the Dun Cow by Walter Wangerin, Jr., saying "It's even weirder than Watership Down." This weekend I finally got around to reading it. First, I must confess that I've never actually read Watership Down (I've only seen the movie; that was trippy enough for me), so perhaps I didn't really know what to expect when I picked this book up.

The Book of the Dun Cow is a story about a foul-tempered rooster (pun intended) named Chauntecleer, whom we're supposed to like (I guess) because God has chosen him to be a Lord over part of the earth and the animals who live on it. Unbeknownst to Chauntecleer, God has also chosen him to be one of the Keepers of Wyrm, an enormous, evil serpent who lives in the bowels of the earth and is plotting his escape so he can wreak havoc and destruction on the universe. In fact, the purpose of the earth is to serve as Wyrm's prison, and the purpose of all the animals are to keep him trapped. Too bad they don't know it.

Their ignorance allows Wyrm to trick a neighboring Lord, an aged rooster who has lost the respect and obedience of his flock because he is too kind and lacks physical strength, into bringing Wyrm's offspring, an evil Cockatrice, into the world. Cockatrice breeds an army of basilisks and begins to kill all the animals so that Wyrm may be set free. Chauntecleer and his crew have to defeat first the basilisks, then Cockatrice, and finally Wyrm himself to restore peace on the land. End summary.

Probably what bothers me most is that book advocates for unwavering obedience to a male ruler/head of family who regularly verbally and physically abuses his subjects. We are meant to understand that he may not be perfect, but Chauntecleer is God's chosen, and his faith in God and the loneliness that comes with being a leader must excuse his abusive tendencies. Pah.

It was written in 1978, which I suppose might explain its blatant misogynistic and patriarchal tendencies. What female characters there are (mostly hens) are mostly useless, empty-headed, gossiping annoyances whose admiration for Chauntecleer seems to me misplaced and is certainly under-appreciated by the rooster himself.

The two female characters who gain any respect of the rooster or narrator are both nurturing, mothering types. One, the nurse, dies trying to protect Chauntecleer's chicks, and the other is his wife, Pertelote, whom he admires mostly for her extraordinary physical beauty and her angelic singing voice. In the end Pertelote does have an important role to play, but that role is to drag two of the main male characters out of their emotional funks, get them to admit the truth to themselves, and stir them back into action. Pertelote herself is too afraid or lacking in good judgment to commit to any useful action in the book.

And yet...and yet...despite being thoroughly turned off by the misogyny and the strong Old Testament-like moral messaging about the virtues of faith, ignorance and obedience and the evils of...well...evil, I found myself pulled along to find out what happened next. I was torn between wanting to read this as the tale of an antihero with whom I could empathize despite his many grave flaws and reading it as a predictable allegory that reinforces a traditional Christian patriarchal worldview. The characters all got on my nerves, and yet I cared about them. I knew that in the end "good" would triumph over "evil," but I still wanted to know how it happened.

A morning story

This morning Milton is sitting in my lap while I type away at the computer. I have my coffee, the window's open, there's a nice breeze. Then there is a funny smell. Milton jumps off my lap and starts licking his anus, and I realize he has ass-jizzed on my leg. Really?!?