Go Canada!

Check out the column header on page 524 of The Canadian Oxford Dictionary (first edition, 1998). You have to wonder what the editors were thinking. If they wanted to avoid such an eye-popping header all they had to do was add a few words on the previous page, or change the spacing slightly, and the entry that comes before this one (“fist fight”) would have bumped to the top of this column and thus become the header.

On the other hand, if the editors are juvenile miscreants like me, they might have spent time adjusting the previous page to ensure that this entry took the header position.

oooooo, baby!

There’s no way they didn’t see it–a project like The Canadian Oxford Dictionary doesn’t get out the door without a high level of scrutiny.

My vote is is with the juvenile miscreants. Bookish people may seem dull, but they have a nasty underbelly. I can imagine the editors of this tome giggling like school girls at the thought of grumpy grannies and tight-assed grade-9 teachers getting their knickers in a knot every time they’re in the “F” section of the dictionary. Or even better… the high school principal! Bwaah haaa haa haa haaa!!!!

Signs?

Since long before I saw the M. Night Shyamalan film “Signs” I’ve had a fascination with the phenomenon of coincidences and omens. I experience these things very frequently, although they are usually rather small and insignificant. I like to play the game that these are “signs” pointing to something or other, but I almost never find any significance, real or imagined.

Despite my lack of success and despite the ham-fisted and off-putting way in which the Shyamalan film clobbered us with its “signs,” I still keep one eye open for odd little coincidences, convergences, and alignments. Such as the one that happened today, on my lunch break, when I went to Cheap Thrills (used books, CDs, etc.) to do some browsing.

Some background: Tess Fragoulis is a Montreal writer who I’ve seen at a number of literary events and readings over the years. She recently put out a novel called Ariadne’s Dream. I’ve heard her read excerpts from the novel a number of times, mostly while the book was still in development. I liked what I heard, except that I found it a bit annoying that so many lines began with the character’s name: “Ariadne opens the door…,” “Ariadne sits and waits…,” “Ariadne sees that….,” and so on. Because of this, I always hear the word “Ariadne” in my head with any mention of Tess Fragoulis, and whenever I see the word “Ariadne” in writing (which is rarely), I hear it in my head, in Tess Fragoulis’ voice.

So there I am at Cheap Thrills, flipping through a bin of uncategorized books. I spot an earlier book by Fragoulis–a book of short stories called Stories to Hide from Your Mother. I recognize it as one that I’ve heard her read from several times. I pick it up, flip through it, and decide to buy it. Now I have the word “Ariadne” playing over and over in my head on an infinite loop. Ariadne, Ariadne, Ariadne…

I continue flipping through the bin, picking a few books up, but not cracking any open. Then I notice a copy of Cartographies, short stories by Maya Sonenberg. Having an interest in cartography–both real and metaphorical–I pick it up. The blurbs on the back look promising, so I flip it open. The page I land on is the start of a new story called “Ariadne in Exile“.

So I bought both books. The question remains, is Fragoulis pointing me to Sonenberg, or is Sonenberg pointing me back to Fragoulis?

I’m not expecting my world to change or anything, but how could I not buy both books?

An interesting postscript: a moment ago I did a Google search on [Cartographies Sonenberg] looking for a nice link to use in this blog. I didn’t find any–at least nothing direct. But one indirect link was to a page about a literary journal called Gargoyle. The page lists the stories found in Gargoyle #25 (1984), and indicates that the title story of Sonenberg’s book (“Cartographies”) appeared in that journal. The web page is hosted by Atticus Books, a Cheap Thrills-like store in Washington DC.

No big deal, except that my earlier post today was about dragons, and I had mentioned missing one scene in the bug movie where they looked like gargoyles. Subsequently, I had spent much of the day looking out my office window imagining dragons on Place Ville Marie and other nearby buildings, perched there like gargoyles. Plus I’m currently reading Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird, in which the narrator and her brother call their father (a primary character) by his first name–Atticus.

There a full moon tonight, isn’t there?

This is ridiculous!

I aquire books much faster than I can read them. At some point I’m going to have to take six months off work just to plow through the reading list. Listed below (in alphabetical order, by author) is a list of what’s currently on my “unread” shelf. This does not include about a dozen anthologies that I have party read and continue to peck away at, nor a handful of self-help books. Note that the books on this list are not just decor… I intend to read all of these!

[Update: July 8, 2009. Strikethrough indicates the ones I’ve managed to read in the 7.5 years since I made this post (along with 200 or so books not mentioned here.]

The Eighth Continent by Alba Ambert
Paradise by Donald Barthelme
A Theft by Saul Bellow
The Worlds Within Her by Neil Bissoondath
Kafka Was the Rage by Anatole Boyard
I’m a Stranger Here Myself by Bill Bryson
In a Sunburned Country by Bill Bryson
The Arabs: Myth and Reality by Gerald Butt
The Black Queen Stories by Barry Callaghan
Andorra by Peter Cameron
The Alienist by Caleb Carr
Jack Maggs by Peter Carey
Strange Heaven by Lynn Coady
The Favorite Game by Leonard Cohen
Elizabeth and After by Matt Cohen
The Story So Far… by Sheldon Currie
Against Venice by Regis Debray
Running in Place by Nicolas Delbanco
Strange Traffic by Irene Dische
Fragile Night by Stella Pope Duarte
Back on Tuesday by David Gilmour
The Fatal Woman by John Glassco
Mister Sandman by Barbara Gowdy
A Gun for Sale by Graham Greene
The Ministry of Fear by Graham Greene
The Third Man and The Fallen Idol by Graham Greene
The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemmingway
Les Miserables by Victor Hugo
The Dubliners by James Joyce
Paris in the Fifties by Stanley Karnow
The Fratricides by Nikos Kazantzakis
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
Between Meals by A.J. Liebling
A Recent Martyr by Valerie Martin
Black Dogs by Ian McEwan
Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller
Black Robe by Brian Moore
The Magician’s Wife by Brian Moore
The Temptation of Eileen Hughes by Brian Moore
Prisoner in a Red Rose Chain by Jeffrey Moore
Paradise by Toni Morrison
Darkness by Bharati Mukherjee
Putting Down Roots by Elaine Kalman Naves
A Day in Our Life by Sean O’Crohan
Coming Through Slaughter by Michael Ondaatje
Nights Below Station Street by David Adams Richards
The Flute by Gabrielle Roy
An Antropologist on Mars by Oliver Sacks
The Notebook by Nicolas Sparks
Night Train to Turkistan by Stuart Stevens
Without Vodka by Aleksander Topolski
The Underpainter by Jane Urquhart
Brief Interviews with Hideous Men by David Foster Wallace
Getting Started by William Weintraub
Flat Rate and Other Tales by K.J.A. Wishnia
Death of a Transvestite by Ed Wood Jr.
To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf

Lynda Cronin on CBC

I listened to CBC Radio’s Radio Noon phone-in today, because the guest was Lynda Cronin, author of Midlife Runaway, A Grown Ups’ Guide to Taking a Year Off. I first got the idea for a year off about two years ago. Unfortunately I haven’t done anything about it besides think.

According to Cronin, just about anybody can do this. All it requires is good planning and three to five years of saving money. Ouch. That’s the hard part. I not only have a lot of um, lifestyle debts, but I continue to maintain a lifestyle (if not a life).

Cronin says if you’re serious about it, you just have to make certain choices about where your money goes. Well, I’m part way there. I don’t spend much on my car, and I haven’t done a serious clothing splurge for about a year and a half. But my rent is high and I tend to eat well. Mind you I don’t eat out often, so that should count for something.

Hmmmm. Maybe I should buckle down and get serious. After all, 1993 was the year of ed for many reasons, and I haven’t really had a comparable year since. (I’ve had good ones, just not that good!) 2004 has year of ed ll written all over it, if I can just get the debts down, and live cheaply until then.

A year.

A year without a job and many destinations. How about this for an itinerary off the top of my head:

A couple of weeks on the islands of Croatia to chill out, decompress, and get into the groove. Across to Budapest for a couple of days, then spend a few weeks going across Romania, through Moldova, to Odessa in the Ukraine (for some reason I’ve always wanted to go to Odessa). Chill with the Ukranians for a week then travel the coast of the Black Sea south through Romania and Bulgaria to Istanbul.

Pass a few weeks in Istanbul then travel down the coast to Antalya and across to Cyprus. Depending on the situation at the time, either check out Beirut and Jerusalem, or just skip over them and head directly for Cairo.

Pass either a few weeks or a few months in Cairo, depending on the living situation (I might be able to get an apartment there, cheap, arranged from home). From Cairo to Crete for calamari, then back across the Mediterranean to Tunis. From there, overland through the Atlas mountains to Casablanca and then Marrakech.

And that’s just the first half…