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Over the years together, N has given me many gifts, left love notes, hidden surprises, small gestures and large ones. Many of his gifts have been books, because he knows me. For Valentines Day this year N gave me a copy of Home Comforts: The Art & Science of Keeping House by Cheryl Mendelson. Yeah, yeah, he gave his new wife a huge book on how-to-be-a-good-housewife for Valentine's Day. And it was so perfect; his comment when gifting the book was basically "don't take this the wrong way, I just know you'll love this." And of course I have; I love home. I love being at home, keeping a clean, warm and comfortable home, inviting guests into my home, I love it all. I've been luxuriating in slowly making my way through this bible of house keeping, and have found myself referencing sections for guidance on various household tasks I confront (like getting a stain out of a lace tablecloth, or cleaning Venetian blinds). The book also comes up in conversation pretty frequently; a friend was over recently and saw it on the table, and said "Oh, is this book you keep talking about?" Guilty. It's great; we have a few reference books and how-to's on the shelf, but this is one that I will reference for the rest of my life, and will gladly share with anyone who's curious.
A friend loaned me his copy of Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel, and I'm slowly making my way through it. It took me a few tries to get through the first third of the book, but after putting it down and leaving it several times, I'm solidly in the second half, and am chugging along with moderate interest. Although I don't usually tend towards historical fiction, I enjoy it, and enjoy the complicated politics of court intrigue (one aspect of the Song of Ice and Fire that's so engaging). But damn, is this book hard to follow. After all those put-down-and-pick-back-ups, I kind of realized that it's Mantel's writing style that's so whirling; sure, the rapid name dropping of dozens of players can be tricky to follow, but more it's her tendency to not use names in rapid fire dialogue, particularly in scenes with multiple characters. Like, maybe there's a few dudes having a loaded conversation about Anne Boleyn in a room full of other dudes who may or may not chime in at any moment, all of whom have extremely differing and specific stakes in the conversation and political climate. It would be helpful, then, to know who's throwing which bomb of court gossip into the mix, yeah? Oof. Despite that, I'm more or less into it now, as the plot picks up, the stakes get higher, and I increasingly understand the author's style. This won't become a book that I reread, but has been a nice contrast to the other fictional worlds my mind has been living in recently.
For our first anniversary, N gave me a copy of The Paper Garden by Molly Peacock. Another killer gift for me, and for our 'paper' anniversary, this memoir slash biography slash art history book weaves the life of Mary Delaney (the inventor, essentially, of modern collage) and her creation of a new art form late in life, with the author's own experience in marriage, art, and midlife. It was an absolutely beautiful read, and I devoured it. Mrs. D, as Peacock affectionately calls her, was an artist in the purest sense of the word. She seems to have lived more fully - through an incredible life in the eighteenth century - by finding artistic outlets in all corners of her world. Through gardening, collecting, letter writing, music, paper cutting and watercolor, she created thoughtful beauty around her for herself and for her loved ones. The titular paper garden that this book frames itself around is her Flora Delanica, a massive collection of botanically-correct cut-paper flowers, pasted layer after layer onto black paper. They are glorious. Astounding. So. fucking. beautiful. The book itself is lovely; mostly gracefully (sometimes a little heavy handed, but it's forgivable) weaving analysis of the cut-paper-collages with biography (layering both personal and historical relevance into the flowers). It manages to be so many things at once, and all together an engaging, forward moving story of one woman's incredible life and impact.
