Musings: Reading in Spain

Pictured: Carl and Ellie being an awesome couple.

For the first time in the 11 years that my husband and I have been married, we both got to go visit his parents in Madrid for the second year in a row. This meant, of course, that we would go visit some book stores in the city at least twice. Because that's how my husband and I roll. We're just cool like that.

One of the reasons Madrid is one of my favorite cities ever (besides the fact that I haven't really traveled that much and that I met my husband there) is that it is a city of readers. At least, it used to be. I remember taking the metro to university and seeing all these people reading during their commute. Mind you, during rush hour that is a feat of contortionism and determination.

Pictured: I'm pretty sure this is the one in Nuevos Ministerios. I think.

Also, they have libraries in the metro. Bibliometro, which I first saw in the Nuevos Ministerios metro station and I almost fainted with happiness. If DC Metro were even remotely competent, I would ask they get these immediately. (But that is another story.)

They also have Bibliobus, which is a library bus. A library bus, you guys! How can you not love a city with so much access to free reading materials for its residents?

Now, I'm sure there are other cities/communities that have comparable services. The DMV area, though, is not one of them. Thankfully, we have pretty fantastic county library systems here, so I can't complain too much. They have an uphill battle since this is certainly not a society of active readers. (Or is it?)

Which brings me to what got me thinking about writing this post in the first place. Spanish Television (RTVE, by its initials in Spanish), has a program called Página Dos. It's a half hour show all about books. They just started their 9th season with their 300th episode. In the episode, they interviewed a few famous Spanish authors. In one segment, they talk to authors about whether or not they can live exclusively from their writing. Julia Navarro, the author of La Biblia de Barro (The Bible of Clay), among other bestsellers, said that she thinks it's a miracle she now live off her writing since Spain doesn't have as many readers as it should.

What?!?!

Does she mean, like, the country as a whole? Doesn't most of the population in the country live in the big metro areas? So, like, they have access, right? Right???

During this last trip, I did notice that there are less people with hard copies of books. But! There are several things I attributed this to:

1. I did not go on metro during rush hour at all. 
2. I did see quite a few people using e-readers. 
3. Of those on their phones that I spied on, about half were reading a book.

Anyway, my main point (if I have one) is that I always experience some form of culture shock whenever I go to Spain. I've been married to a Spaniard for 11 years, we've been together for 14, and I still run into things I don't understand. They think they don't have enough readers, while I squee internally with glee whenever I'm there and see all of these readers.

Maybe the moral is that everyone, everywhere, should read more?

Review: Paris: The Novel

I have been incredibly lucky, despite what my times of incessant whining might suggest. One of the things I have been blessed enough to have done is to have traveled to Paris. Twice. Both times, I couldn't quite believe I was there. I'm one of those people that plans stuff, expecting that something will happen that will keep me from accomplishing my goal.

But not Paris! I've been to Paris. Twice!

That's me and my best friend, from ProlixMe, at Notre Dame, the first time I went to Paris. It's been a while.

And though I honestly believe that Madrid and Barcelona have nothing to envy modern day Paris, it's still one of my favorite places ever.

So, I've read quite a bit about Paris and stories set in Paris. My fascination with the city led me to pick up Edward Rutherfurd's quite hefty Paris: The Novel. I swear it took me ages to finish. The hardcover version is just over 800 pages long and it doesn't have large print, let me tell you.

The novel overall is not written in a linear fashion. Rutherfurd goes back and forth, with the overarching story being the one that goes in order. That one starts in Belle Epoque Paris, with three families at it's center. All the chapters set further back in the past connect to this story.

Rutherfurd goes back as far as 1261 and goes up to 1967. That's a lot to cover in one book. It felt like a novel with several short stories and/or novella's attached. Thankfully, the first few pages includes a family tree for each of the families covered in the novel. It really helped.

The part of the novel set during WWII got to me the most. You know bad things will happen. Of course they will. But the tragedy still made me tear up. It redeemed the book for me. Some parts went far too slowly and I felt didn't really succeed in showing me the heart of Paris. The lack of set focus on any of the characters made the city the real protagonist of the novel. Sometimes that really came through.

If you have the discipline, I would say this book is worth the effort. I stuck to it and I don't do that with books that don't hold my interest. But, though it's not a complicated read per se, it demands the reader's full attention.

Review: Deep Down Dark

Just in case you missed it, the fifth anniversary of the disaster at the San Jose mine in Copiapó, Chile is here. This will last a while, since the 33 men that were trapped in that mine didn't get out until October 13, though the accident occurred on August 5.

Take a good look at that date range. August 5-October 13. That's 69 days. For 69 days, 33 miners found themselves trapped about 2,300 feet below the ground.

Take a good look at that figure. Two thousand and three hundred feet inside a mountain. To put that into perspective, the tallest twin skyscrapers in the world, the Petronas Towers in Kuala Lumpur, measure just under 1,500 feet in height each.

In Deep Down Dark: The Untold Story of 33 Men Buried in a Chilean Mine, and the Miracle That Set Them Free, Héctor Tobar does a fantastic job of reporting what took place before, during, and after the accident that thrust these 33 men and their families into worldwide fame.

Tobar really delves into the complex relationships that existed between all the players in this dramatic event. This means he doesn't sugar coat anything. These men, survivors of the highest order to be sure, are still men. They have flaws and virtues, just like everyone else, including the other players in these dramatic events.



It took me a bit to get through the book because I kept referring back the the pictures of the men to make sure I had the right face to each name. I really wanted to make sure I took in the story as being something that happened to real people, folks that got up one morning thinking they were going to have another ordinary day and found themselves living an extraordinary hell. Unfortunately, that didn't end after they were rescued.

The most heartbreaking part of the story, surprisingly enough, was the aftermath. Everyone thought these guys would be set for life. That's not what happened at all. Some, shockingly, have had to go back to working in the mines.

You think about the fact these men spent 69 days inside a mountain that never stopped rumbling. Really sit and stew in that. Then think about how some had to go back to the work that put them there.

I only have one thing that I didn't like about Tobar's writing: he expresses his own opinion more often than he should, IMHO. Of course, he's within his right, and he's the one that analysed all of the information he collected. Still, sometimes it seemed a little out of place.

Other than that, this is a really good book. Tobar reminds us that, at the heart of it all, this is a human story.

Strong Women in Books...and Four Jerks

So, I haven't been as good about blogging again this time as I would like. Sorry about that. I was taking a programming class that was totally kicking my ass. Basically, it stole all joy out of being on my laptop.

I'm in between classes now, so I figured I should go ahead and take advantage while I can. The class may have been manhandling me, but I still managed to sneak in time to read. I had to go looking through my Goodreads list, since that's how I keep track of what I've read. There are plenty of audiobooks in there right now, but since I commute a total of an hour every day, it adds up. I'll keep my reviews short, kind of like a round robin of what I've been reading/listening to for the last few months.

Books I've read:

• Multipliers: How the Best Leaders Make Everyone Smarter, by Liz Wiseman and Greg McKeown. I had to read this for work. It had confirmed that I self-help books are really not my thing.
• Cuatro Amigos, by David Trueba. I believe this one isn't available in English. I'm pretty sure it's available as an ebook in Spanish, if you're really interested in reading it. A Spanish friend of mine recommended this book to me. She really loved it, saying it was true to life and hysterically funny. I really like this person, so, of course, because I am how I am, I haven't texted her yet to let her know I hated this book. I read it ages ago, and I still can't bring myself to tell her. The book is about four friends that go on a road trip together during their summer vacation. In Spain, folks get a full month or some such off, so they have plenty of time. The narrator is an asshole. His friends are assholes. The narrator's ex-girlfriend is an asshole. No one in this book has enough redeeming qualities for me to enjoy the story. Maybe the dog, but even he was kind of pathetic. It's well written, but that's about all I can say that is positive about this book.
• Murder on the Champ de Mars, by Cara Black. Aimée Leduc is back and she has a baby! This is the 15th (yes, you read that right) book in this series. I've enjoyed all of them. This time around, Aimée has to balance her job with being a single mother. René still helps out more than he should, and Morbier is still trying to keep Aimée out of trouble. This one definitely had quite a cliffhanger/shock ending, so expect to be pissed that the next book doesn't come out until next year.
• As Chimney Sweepers Come to Dust, by Alan Bradley. Flavia is back! For those that have been following the series, this book will definitely come across as different from the others. You have to expect this as the series progresses, since Flavia can't be a pre-teen forever. She still has a wicked sense of humor and, of course, she's still brilliant. I know some of the fans didn't like the changes that took place in this one, but I think they work. I'm looking forward to the next installment.
• My Wish List, by Grégoire Delacourt. The only thing I can say definitively about this book is that it's very quick to read. Jocelyne, the story's protagonist, is a middle age woman who has a pretty normal and quiet life, with her husband of over 20 years and two grown children. She wins the lottery--a pretty decently sized prize--and instead of yelling into the four winds that she won, she decides to keep quiet and not cash the ticket right away. A twist in the middle of the book really jarred me. I kind of knew something like that might happen, but still. I recommend it, though I really still don't know what to think.

That's it for the round robin. The next few books I read I wanted to review on their own. Stay tuned.

How I Got Over an Old Prejudice and Learned to Love Audiobooks

Almost two years ago, I switched jobs. It was one of the best decisions I've ever made. Yes, there are some things that I lost. But the only one I really miss is, unfortunately, also one of the main reasons I wanted out of my old job: the long commute.

My commute, on a good day, was an hour and a half.


How could this possibly ever be a good thing, you ask? Well, thing is, I didn't drive. I took a bus then metro into DC. This meant several things, but lets focus on the positive one: I got to read. For most of my commute, I got to read whatever I wanted. And I read. I read every day on the way in to work and on my way home. And that time ready was the best part of my day.

Well, I switched jobs and now had to drive myself to work. My commute is now 30 minutes each way. I actually get home in time now to hang out with the hubby for more than 20 minutes. But! My reading went down to practically nothing. I was working on getting a certificate, so classes took up a good chunk of my time and, admittedly, I was overwhelmed with the amount of crap around that house that I hadn't gotten around to doing when I had my old job.

This went on for about a year before I finally swallowed my pride and tried audiobooks. I have a finite amount of patience for listening to the same 3 songs over and over again on the radio, so why not try something different? So, I went to the library and checked out a CD copy (yeah, that's right) of A Discovery of Witches, by Deborah Harkness.

It took me three weeks to get through the audiobook, since I could only listen in the car. My commute turned from an annoyance to something I could actually enjoy again. I didn't mind as much getting stuck in traffic because that meant I could continue to listen to the story.

Then, I finally took another look at my library's Overdrive page. I had tried using it before and I hadn't found it particularly user-friendly. But now, I found that it's a freaking blessing. I download eBooks into my Nook and audiobooks into my smartphone. You know what that means? I'm listening to a book while I work on one of my endless array of Excel files or project plans.



Having this kind of expanded access to books has gotten me back up to my one-book-a week habit and it's given me the chance to try out genres that I usually ignore.

I have now listened to the all 13 books from A Series of Unfortunate Events, the Percy Jackson series, and of course I finished the All Souls Trilogy that I started with A Discovery of Witches.

My old hang ups about audiobooks now seem completely ridiculous. Yes, the narrator matters. (Just listen to books 3-5 of A Series of Unfortunate Events. Lord, talk about an unfortunate event.) But, most audiobooks I've listened to have really fantastic narrators. And, if you really can't stand the narrator, you could always just stop and check out the book later.

I think it just matters that you have access to books. The whole point of reading, for me, is that I have access to different worlds--that I can dive into lives that I had no idea exist. Basically, reading opens my mind and makes me think differently about the world around me. I'm still me, a creature of habit with a mild case of undiagnosed social anxiety, but books (no matter how I read/listen to them make me feel like Matilda: