Mind. Blown.

I don't think there's anything more I can say. Except maybe that as the type of person who likes celebrating unnecessary vaguely landmarkish things, I love that this is the last book I read in 2009. Amazing.

The time to make up your mind about people is never.

Reading Zadie Smith's book of essays, Changing My Mind, is an inevitable way to feel like an idiot. That's not a complaint. It's like talking to the smartest person at a cocktail party, making mental note after mental note of books to read and movies to watch, all the while nodding as though you've already read and seen them, and being sure to get her phone number so once you've caught up, you can hang out and hope to be as cool and smart as she is. Therefore, it is unsurprising that you recommended me this book, Sarah. However, I could not disagree with Zadie Smith more when it comes to Shopgirl. I love that movie and am not ashamed of my sexual attraction to Steve Martin, so I therefore can understand Claire Danes'. Especially when her last date was with Jason Schwartzman who suggests a baggie when nobody has a condom. But anybody who shares my love of Katharine Hepburn and especially The Philadelphia Story does have soooome taste in movies, I must admit. Overall, I couldn't appreciate every essay of Smith's, but I look forward to pulling it off my bookshelf as a reference once I've read more of the books she discusses.

Seriously. She wore a feather boa.

After seeing the travesty that is the movie version of NINE, when I started reading Love and Obstacles and realized it was a string of short stories about a Bosnian man growing up in various countries and becoming a writer, I was a little hesitant. No more self-referential or self-congratulatory or self-anything stories. But then I started to read it and my biases slid away. The portrayal of displacement and detachment from home is poignant and each individual story becomes more powerful in the company of the other stories. It's almost enough to wash away the image of Daniel Day-Lewis trying to dance or Judi Dench wearing a feather boa. Almost.

Aeroman Lives

How does someone write a book like Fortress of Solitude? Do you just put pen to paper and people spill out or do you know these people in your head somehow? In 509 pages, Lethem has created several indelible portraits of people I feel like I know. I can't believe it took me so long to read this book, but I'm so glad I read it now, because reading it in New York gives me an extra appreciation for Lethem's insane attention to detail. And reading it at this point in my life gives me an extra appreciation for Lethem's understanding of the constant see-saw of power in those friendships we carry from childhood onward. Even for those of us whose differences aren't quite as massive as Dylan and Mingus', there's a recognition. I finished this book this morning, but I don't know that I'll ever really be finished with it? This one sticks with you.