Book Number Who Cares?

So I like Haruki Murakami, right? And I've seen suggestions that if you like Murakami, you'd also probably like Kafka.

They lie.

According to my e-reader, I made it 72% of the way through a book of his short stories, so no, I didn't finish the whole thing but I only had three short stories (and their related endnotes) left.

My conclusion? While Murakami is whacked out and weird, there is a deliberateness to his work that makes the WTF-ness intentional. Reading Kafka, however, is like listening to someone tell a story when they've spent the last three days combining meth, mushrooms and LSD. It's manic, confusing, and I came away thinking that every character was insane or in the midst of a psychotic break.

Yeah. No more Kafka for me. Ever. I'm actually having to cleanse my reading-palate by reading non-fiction. I'm going to be too judgmental of weird right now.

Happy Birthday to Me!

(Yes, I made a tiny knit unicorn. It's awesome.)

And Another Thing

I Made a Thing

I've needed some palate-cleansing knitting after my sock-related difficulty. So I've been knitting some tiny, cute, and ridiculous things. Such as a fox.

Ridiculous things are so fun to knit.

Finally Done With Socks!

Okay, I'm not 'done with socks' as in never knitting another pair. I don't think I could deal with that. Instead, I mean I've finally finished the pair of socks I've been working on.

These took me over a month to do. My average lately has been two weeks so yeah, these took a while.

The slowness was a combination of factors, including the fact that I've knit this pattern three freaking times. But mostly it was the fact that I used a smaller needle than normal which created a pretty thick fabric and that combined with the massive amount of purling required, my hands weren't always up to the challenge. But I did get it done and they are obnoxious and lovely!

And even more fun, I tried out a new heel - a forked short row heel. It's a neat little heel that fits my high instep, protruding heel bone like a second skin.

I'm definitely going to have to try this heel again. (For more detail about how I actually did it, I tried to explain it on my Ravelry project page. It's kind of babbling though so not all that non-knitter friendly.)

I'm not sure what big project is up next. I think I need a mini-break from knitting to recover from this pair of socks. Not an actual break from knitting, just a break from knitting serious projects for a few days. Maybe I'll turn out some ridiculous tiny things. I do love that.

Book 1: It Took Forever

Yes, still alive here. I know, I've been quiet. In my post-glutening recovery, I managed to catch a stomach bug which squashed me for an additional week. But this week I finally seem to have mostly defeated everything and am back to normal-ish (or what passes for it currently).

"And also," the driver said, facing the mirror, "please remember: things are not what they seem...."

The driver chose his words carefully: "It’s just that you’re about to do something out of the ordinary. Am I right? People do not ordinarily climb down the emergency stairs of the Metropolitan Expressway in the middle of the day—especially women....

"And after you do something like that, the everyday look of things might seem to change a little. Things may look different to you than they did before. I’ve had that experience myself. But don’t let appearances fool you. There’s always only one reality." (p32)

And now that we are solidly in the middle of the year, I am happy that I can say I've actually read a book! Yeah, it took ages but in my defense, it was over 1200 pages long. Of course, I could have finished it sooner if I had actually read it consistently instead of ignoring it for a couple of months, but oh well. I'll admit, I put it down for a while because I got too attached to the characters (well, Aomame really. She's kind of awesome. Tengo was a bit boring.) because I assumed one of them would be killed.

Constipation was one of the things she hated most in the world, on par with despicable men who commit domestic violence and narrow-minded religious fundamentalists. (p166)

The book was 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami and it seems like this is either a book you love or you hate. I fall in the "love" category. I didn't get it, but I did really enjoy it.

It was probably Chekhov who said that the novelist is not someone who answers questions but someone who asks them. (p351)

I kept finding myself second guessing what was going on and what would happen and what things meant something and what was just a distraction. Honestly, I'd kind of like to read it again now that I know what happens to see if I could pick up hints as to what it actually means.

As a story, the work is put together in an exceptionally interesting way and it carries the reader along to the very end, but when it comes to the question of what is an air chrysalis, or who are the Little People, we are left in a pool of mysterious question marks. (p496)

And why yes, this book does fit in with my pattern of reading really random and confusing fiction. Apparently I like not understanding what the heck is going on. I'm pretty sure this is the exact opposite of when I was in school. Whatever. I'm embracing it now.