September 2010

I’ve read fewer books this month than I have in the last eighteen months–ever since keeping a list of books read.  Here’s the tally:

1. Outer Dark by Cormac McCarthy.  I read this for my McCarthy class, of course, and in keeping with the difficult subject matter of his work, this one contained incest, infanticide, and cannibalism.
2. Run by Ann Patchett.  To counteract the negativity, I reread one of my favorite books by one of my favorite authors to cheer myself up.  As usual, this homage to family cheered me considerably.
3. Child of God by Cormac McCarthy.  Considering that this book deals with necrophilia, the warm glow of Ann Patchett was just enough to get me through the worst parts.
4. Transition by Iain M. Banks.  Again for the purposes of mental bolstering, I turned to the new book by an author I knew I would like.  No one delivers multiple perspectives and delightfully unusual scenarios more engagingly than Banks.
5. Understanding by Design by Grant Wiggins and Jay McTighe (80%).  This book was required reading for my philosophy of composition class, and I only read eighty percent because that was all that was on the syllabus.  It was about curriculum design and was exactly as dry as it sounds.
6. Suttree by Cormac McCarthy.  Yes, another McCarthy book, this one treating alcoholism, abandonment, misogyny, and solipsistic narcissism.  I’m sorry if this doesn’t make you want to read McCarthy.  Many people truly love his work, but I do not belong among them.
7. Nocturnes by Kazuo Ishiguro.  This short story collection published by a single author within the last ten years was reading for my fiction class.  I’m still drafting the required book review.
8. Cheek by Jowl by Ursula K. Le Guin.  And, sensing that the end of the month was approaching, I read the last forty pages of this collection of essays about the importance of fantasy.

On the other hand, I’m halfway through five other books, so I’ll certainly have more, if not likely to be more interesting, reading in October.  This list, of course, does not represent the twenty-odd scholarly articles I’ve read this month, nor the ten or more short stories, nor the works-in-progress I’ve read as part of my workshop.

All the same, it feels like a poor showing.  Perhaps it will be better next time.