Book Round-Up: Haunted House Edition

 It's no secret that the horrors in ghost stories almost always serve as signifiers for the horrors in society. Beloved's ghost is the legacy of slavery,* and Dracula represents the evil of aristocracy or Victorian sexual repression (depending on who you ask). The following three novels each tackle society's ills by literalizing those ills in creepy ways.

A House with Good Bones by T. Kingfisher: In Kingfisher's contemporary Southern Gothic, the haunting Sam and her mother, Edith, are dealing with represents a legacy of prejudice and sexism disguised by good manners and polite behavior (and how easy it is for victims to become perpetrators). It's a Kingfisher novel, however, so the horror is mitigated with humor and a goofy familiar (a vulture, in this case).  

Lost Among the Living by Simone St. James: Set in England, 1921, the novel's Wych Elm House (and the protagonist) is haunted by the trauma of both mental illness and WWI. That trauma was heavy to read about, but St. James is rapidly becoming a favorite writer for her ability to combine mystery, romance, and spookiness.   

Starling House by Alix Harrow: the most explicitly horror-filled of the three, this haunted house represents not only slavery and misogyny but the ability of otherwise good people to look away rather than confront evil. This was a good story, and I appreciate how nothing played out quite like one would expect, but although the novel is not YA it read like it, especially in the behavior of the main characters and in the overwrought writing style. The latter in particular distracted from my enjoyment of the story.

*Don't get me started on the long-ago English professor who interrupted a really good discussion to ask if we thought ghosts were real.

In a Hole in the Ground there lived a Hobbit

It was the summer of the hobbit.

I convinced my youngest to read The Hobbit this summer (he loved it, except for a couple of "boring" chapters). That inspired me to buy a hardcover version of the annotated edition (not for my son to read, though; he's hard on books). It's a great version -- lots of notes on the creation and publication of the novel, plus numerous illustrations from Tolkien himself and dozens of other artists.

Coincidentally, Aimee Ray of Little Dear issued for her September Patreon pattern a trio of doors to make, including a hobbit door. So of course I made it:

I've built up quite the collection of small Tolkien crafts.

Night Film by Marisha Pessl

A lot of the books I read are about the power of storytelling -- to entertain, to understand, to heal -- but stories can also lead us astray. If we aren't sufficiently aware of our own biases, if we make too many assumptions, we end up creating a story that isn't true.

The protagonist of Pessl's second novel, Night Film, is a journalist recovering from a career-ending blunder: he didn't verify an anonymous tip accusing famed-yet-reclusive film director Stanislaus Cordova of unspeakable crimes against children. Instead McGrath, who was already suspicious of Cordova, blabbed the allegations on a talk show only to have the tip proved a hoax (done, McGrath is convinced, to discredit him before he uncovered the director's secrets). Years later, McGrath has an eerie encounter with Cordova's daughter shortly before her death that causes him to reopen his investigation, determined to both show the world the true Cordova and vindicate himself.

McGrath is an unlikeable character, full of himself and full of edgy nonsense about life in general and New York City in particular. But he is a determined (if occasionally careless) journalist who follows every lead, no matter how tenuous, in his quest to understand what happened to Cordova's daughter, and what Cordova did that led to her death. The problem is that he never stops to question the truth of his initial premise -- Cordova's deeply disturbing films are necessarily the product of a deeply disturbed mind -- which leads him to misinterpret what he learns. By the end, not only McGrath but the reader must call into question everything learned. I didn't love this book the way I did Special Topics ..., but I thoroughly enjoyed it.

A Master Class in Stringing

Last year Kate Richbourg of the Beadshop ran a six-session master class in bead stringing based on the style and techniques of Helen Dietze; of course I jumped all over that.  The result:

The photo does not do it justice

This was a lot of fun to do. Kate's project centered around a large stone donut, but I did not have one in a color I liked. I did, however, have a giant brass replica of a Chinese coin, so that became the core around which everything else was built. I rooted through my stash and pulled every purple, burgundy, brass, and gold-colored bead I had and got to stringing. Some progress pictures:

This is not the first time I've done a Helen Dietze project; decades ago the late, lamented (by me at least) Bead & Button magazine featured her and a version of one of her ambassador necklaces. I made it but I never wore it -- it called for long dangles at the back to counterbalance the weight of the front. However, those strands were uncomfortable and set off my sensory issues. When I began this project, I knew I'd need to keep the front from getting too big and heavy so that I would not have to have too much hanging off the clasp. This necklace is much easier for me to wear.

The fun in a project like this is that it is completely improv; when I started, I had no idea what it would look like, just what colors I wanted and the fact that it should be a little smaller than Kate's to fit me proportionately. Playing with what was functionally a giant "bead soup" was a blast, and I'll want to do something like this again. It's a great artistic exercise.

Book Round-up

 A Stroke of the Pen by Terry Pratchett: This collection of Pratchett's early stories (mostly published under pseudonyms) had all of his trademark wit and whimsy. A quick, fun read.

The Bullet that Missed by Richard Osman: The mystery in this, the third of Osman's delightful series, wasn't as strong or as interesting, but at this point I'm here for the wonderful relationships. I think there's one more to read.

Weight by Jeanette Winterson: Part of the Canongate Myth series, where modern authors reinterpret or retell a myth of their choice. Winterson's retelling of the Greek myth of Atlas and Heracles is a wonderful meditation on the weight (get it?) of expectations and responsibility.

Moonflower Murders by Anthony Horowitz: The second in Horowitz's series about the editor of a cozy series who has to solve not-so-cozy mysteries in the "real" world. I enjoyed the dual stories in this one, but I'm not sure how long Horowitz can sustain this premise.

Dream Angus by Alexander McCall Smith: Another novella in the Canongate Myth series. McCall Smith tells some of the stories surrounding the Celtic god Aengus, alternating with stories -- vignettes, really -- about love and dreams set in modern Scotland. The stories are not particularly profound, but they nonetheless touch on universal truths.

Jewelry Round-Up: I Can't Stop Edition

Months and months ago I received a newsletter from a bead shop (no idea which) that featured a beautiful project.  I could not afford the kit but I loved the mix of colors and finishes, so I dug through my stash, put a bunch of beads together in a tin, and promptly forgot about it. When I pulled out the tin in late June, I realized I never saved the email and had no recollection of the original project; I needed to figure out my own thing. I've been on a knotting kick and I wanted to try a knotted necklace made with a wide range of bead types like Candie Cooper often makes, so that's what I did. I'm very pleased with it.

The jewelry designer Danielle Wickes designed these nifty circular discs with holes to create beaded fringe, and Kate Richbourg of the The Beadshop did a tutorial on how to make tassel earrings with them.  The seed bead mix I used, "Mardi Gras," came from the bead store I worked at part-time in college; I had originally made a daisy chain necklace with it, but the thread was showing it's age. These earrings are so much fun to wear.

I bought these beautiful, deep purple crystal rounds but I wasn't sure what to do with them. I also had a tiny jar of shimmery raspberry chalottes for which I had not yet found a pattern. By pure chance I put the two next to each other while I was sorting through my work area, and I fell in love with the combination. To make the earrings I basically reversed engineered the pattern from lunasulmare1's cipollotti earrings (she and her tutorials have vanished from the internet).

I'd been wanting to make earrings to commemorate one of my favorite shows, Pushing Daisies, for years. I finally put them together: pie charms, bee charms, and daisy flowers made by me.

The Bead Place came up with a cute decorative project, attaching beaded charms to chicken wire in an embroidery hoop (really). My first thought was to make the wire base myself because why buy a kit when I don't have to? But I quickly realized chicken wire is sold by the yard and super hard to work with. So the kit it was! I had fun using all sorts of flower beads from my stash.

And finally, a simple necklace with an inexpensive locket from Michaels strung with pink tourmaline and lepidolite in quartz (that's a mouthful).

I need to start selling some of my jewelry again.

Book Round-Up

Camino Island by John Grisham: the best part of this novel was the beginning, specifically the description of the theft of priceless manuscripts from Princeton University and the federal investigation that immediately followed. Unfortunately the narrative fizzled out after that.

How to Solve Your Own Murder by Kristen Perrin: a fun mystery, wherein the murder victim tasks her putative heirs with solving her murder if they want to inherit.

Nettle and Bone by T. Kingfisher: I continue working my way through Kingfisher's novels. The subject matter in this one -- patriarchy, misogyny, domestic abuse -- is bleak, but Kingfisher wisely balances it with fairy tale elements like impossible tasks and goblin markets, along with a healthy dose of absurdity (such as a demonic chicken).

PopCo by Scarlett Thomas: I don't know why it took me so long to read this given how much I liked Our Tragic Universe, not to mention the math, puzzles, and cultural commentary in this book. And, for the most part, it was really good! The only flaw was the reveal late in the novel of a plan that seemed to me (but not the characters, apparently) hopelessly idealistic and not at all well thought out. In that sense, it reminded me of The Absolute Book.