Dracula is an amazing book. And creepy. Very creepy. Glad I’m done. I wanted to be done before it was done, but I couldn’t stop reading it either. For whatever reason the more I read the more I didn’t want to put it down. Not a good sign at all. And when I visited Barnes N Noble today for a short bit I realize I haven’t missed much of any reading. True, I haven’t read many blogs lately either, so I’m behind. Bestseller list still looks unattractive.
And since Brian has been gone I decided to gorge myself with licorice. See, Brian hates it. Actually more than hates it, repulsed by it. Since I’m the considerate girlfriend (or at least I like to think myself as such), I don’t eat when I expect t be seeing him. Which means if I ever eat black licorice its while I’m at work or when he’s gone. Today I realized I left my licorice at work and it was a day off, so I bought some at the local store. Now I don’t think I’ll be eating it for quite some time. I could barely eat one piece (which is a little large). It was intense. More intense than the Altoid black licorice mints. When I took a sip of my black iced coffee I found that it tasted like water. And the car smelled of licorice (and still does, so that means we will be using Brian’s car a bit for now). So when he comes back later he will now find a girlfriend mostly cured of her love for black licorice. At least for the time being.
At first I thought that it would be a good idea to hide behind a fictious name. And since my initials are RAD, why not radpoet? Well, I was tired but didn’t want to get up to do anything like go lay down on the couch, so I thought I’d do some google vanity searching. Sadly, there are a few other hits for “radpoet” and frankly, radpoet does make me think of a emo-rebel teenager. I’m not a emo-rebel teenager. Not the last time I checked. Why would I want to hide anyways? Not sure. When I think about it now, I can’t remember any of the logical reasons (which is one reason why I am beginning to write everything down…my memory feels like its slipping). Farewell to what never really “was” (for I don’t believe I ever used the name ‘radpoet’).
It’s been too long since I have written anything. Anything here that is. Most of the reason is due to the fact that I have been reading ‘old books’ lately. The first of which is Madame Bovary by Flaubert. Seriously, in just a few words it is a French Victorian novel, or someone could just say it is a French novel. Not to slight the French in any means, but is full of a woman who never takes the pains to actually know herself. Rather she just chases around silly ideals around and around in circles. And I think most anyone who is intelligent should know where that gets you. I read the book for a class I’m auditing this semester called “Great Books Great Questions” but frankly the only great question in my mind was, “why this book?” Sure it may paint the feminist ideas, but I think that it really only written to see and test the lines of how sensual a novel can be. I probably should read some higher criticism though. Maybe that will enlighten me to the jewel this novel is supposed to be.
Second book is Dracula by Stroker. I actually am still in the midst of this book. And again, another Victorian novel with a really creepy dude (well, at least in the first fifty pages, he’s somewhat disappeared for the moment). After these two novels I’m supposed to tackle Moby Dick, but I really don’t have the heart/stamina to do it. Sure, I like Jane Austen, but all I can think of is her book Northanger Abbey where she mocks novels like Madame Bovary and Dracula (novels similar persay, not the actual books). And when I think back on it, it really is these novels that pave the way to the sensational pop-fiction books that our culture now gobbles up. Though at least Stroker creates a wonderful villain. Though can palms really be hairy (at one part in Dracula, the Count is described as to have hairy palms)?