I loved the 1998 YA novel Holes by Louis Sachar, which won both the Newbery Medal and a National Book Award, so as soon as I saw the spin-off novel Small Steps on the bookstore shelf last year, I knew I wanted a copy.
Fortunately before I splurged on a full price copy, I managed (with great surprise) to find an excellent hardcover copy in the bargain bin at Book Sale for a measly P60 ($2)! Haha, that’s normally what I would spend for a bargain book, but it was practically a steal so I was grinning from ear to ear as the cashier wrapped up my purchases! :)
For some reason, I’ve read a lot of Holocaust-themed books in recent time than I ever have my whole life. Not that I’m fascinated with the Holocaust — it’s not a very happy theme, and it’s hardly light reading, but it does inspire stories of the greatness (or debauchery) of the human spirit.
BM friend Aloi recommended the book Night by Elie Wiesel a few months back and I was mentally kicking myself for having given up the copy on BookMooch. Sometime later, I managed to dig up a turtleback copy (ugh, but still a mass market paperback inside) in a bargain bin at Book Sale and I made up my mind to read it this year.
All the Holocaust books I’d read before could not have prepared me for Night — it was like watching the Holocaust documentary “Genocide” (which I watched in sophomore year in college, and to this day I still can’t erase the image of thousands of emaciated white bodies being dumped into wide open pits from my mind, or the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever I think about it) all over again.
Last Saturday, our book club Flips Flipping Pages held our July book discussion on one of my childhood favorites, Dr. Seuss. I’d been looking forward to this discussion because we haven’t tackled any children’s books yet in a year of book discussions, and I was part moderator of this one, where I took on the discussion of the art of Dr. Seuss.
As a child, I was fortunate enough to attend a school with a principal that had special interest in children’s books, and so our library was well-stocked with the best of them. I remember discovering the Dr. Seuss section when I was in first grade, and I spent many happy hours in the library — well, happy for me, not for the maid who waited for me for hours at the gate, because I didn’t want to go home yet so I evaded her for as long as I can. Hehe.
For this particular discussion, I read three Dr. Seuss books (books #114-116 of 2009): How the Grinch Stole Christmas by Dr. Seuss;Seuss, the whole Seuss, and nothing but the Seuss: A Visual Biography of Theodore Seuss Geisel by Charles D. Cohen; and Hooray for Diffendoofer Day by Dr. Seuss, Jack Prelutsky, and Lane Smith.
A couple of years ago, some friends of mine were raving about the University of the Philippines Press publication Last Order Sa Penguin by Chris Martinez (book #113 for 2009, #19 for the Diversity Challenge – Filipino), containing the script of a play with the same title.
I don’t read a lot of plays because I prefer prose, but I was in the mood for a short, light read so I picked up this book.
Last Order Sa Penguin (roughly translated for the benefit of my international readers: Last Order at the Penguin Cafe) is a two-act play about five friends nearing their thirties: the cheerfully gay Tuxqs, the problematic Harlene, the sex addict Tess, the social climbing Dyna, and the druggie Mario, who all meet up at the Penguin Cafe in Malate.
I love cats. I like dogs, and animals in general, but I love cats most of all (shh, don’t tell my dog!).
Having raised two cats from birth (and feeding several other neighborhood strays), I find that cats are one of the smartest creatures (and yes, smarter than dogs, as I’ve raised more than my share of those too) on earth.
They’re clean, they’re naturally housebroken, and they’re low-maintenance. They won’t give their loyalty freely, but they make the most loyal and affectionate companions when they do.
And I love how easily they learn even without training. While I love our dog as much as my cats, my cats can open doors, climb onto bed with me and pull a blanket over themselves, use their litterbox and keep it clean (our dog has a spraying problem), and get up and down the stairs faster than lightning (our dog forgets how to go up and down the stairs like every other hour).
Last year, my cat Tomas, an orange mackerel tabby that I raised since he was a kitten, passed away due to kidney failure and subsequent cardiac arrest (I really suspect it was canned cat food tainted with melamine), and it was one of the hardest things I ever had to get through in my life.
I got a lot of cat books since then, including a beautiful copy of 99 Lives: Cats in History, Legend, and Literature, that was a present from fellow book lover Triccie. I still can’t get myself to finish reading that book (because I end up bawling), but I was able to find another cat book to cheer me up: Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats by T.S. Eliot (book #112 for 2009).
