Seasonal Plume

I finally read and finished The Bartimaeus Trilogy a few weeks back, due to recommendations of friends. The trilogy, written by Jonathan Stroud, is made up of the books The Amulet of Samarkand, The Golem’s Eye, and Ptolemy’s Gate; it follows three principal characters, all of them coming from different backgrounds in life: Nathanial (also known as John Mandrake), blessed to be raised as a ruling-class wizard; Bartimaeus, a long-lived djinn of the fourth level; and Kitty, a magic-immune commoner girl chafing under the highfalutin wizards. They way these three characters interact and affect each other’s lives (and the world they live in) is both real and otherworldly: they draw you in even if they exasperate you plenty of times.

I can’t rightfully say which character is the best for me; they’re all portrayed with wonderful depth, drawing you in with their (usually suppressed) emotions. The book jumps from the perspective of one major character to the next, the narrator focusing on him; the difference is that when we’re seeing events through Bartimaeus’ point of view, the book shifts to a first-person POV. I feel that this is an ingenious way of differentiating Bartimaeus from the human characters; the book also makes use of footnotes to implicitly express the nature of Bartimaeus: in Stroud’s world, the djinn (and other beings) are able to see other planes of reality, while humans can only see one plane. In the same way, djinnn can think different thoughts at a single point in time, while humans, the oh so sluggish humans, can only think one thought at a time. The Bartimaeus chapters are then peppered with footnotes whenever Bartimaeus thinks of a rather interesting quip or trivia that he wishes to express.

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I’ve recently finished a fair few books since last I wrote, and I’ve been meaning to write a review of The Bartimaeus Trilogy, but haven’t gotten around to it. Suffice to say, I’ve done quite a lot more reading this month than I’ve done in a very long time; I’ve probably read the same amount of books this past month and over 2006. That sounds quite sad, but it shall be rectified. (!!1!!one!!) I’ve put up a list of my 2007 reading forays, which you can find here at my journal. I didn’t put it here because I wasn’t sure where to put it.

I’ve recently been lurking at TheDarkTower.net, and I’ve been sadly confronted with the sad fact that OMG, there is so much more to DT than just the seven books. I’ve never read anything of King’s aside from the series, being a veritable scaredy-cat; The Gunslinger just really pulled me in when first I read it when I was in second year high. I’m still trying to debate whether or not it will be worth it to immerse myself in his other DT-verse books. I have a feeling that his books being interconnected in some way is almost almost almost like a certain romance author I know who has gazillions of books revolving around two interconnected clans.

Not that it’s bad per se, just… hard to do really well.

Sometimes (although it’s becoming more regular recently), I feel keenly the “loss” of my writing. Or, the loss of my confidence that I could write. When I was younger, I wrote no matter what, but now that I’m older I find myself hemming and hawing over how to write this, how to write that, what best thing to do in this scene, if what I’m writing is even worth a fillip, not to mention the duties and responsibilities that already take up my time. Are they flimsy alibis or valid reasons? I don’t know, I wouldn’t know. Before I even start, I’m daunted by everything that looms over me. I just sit in the crossroads, not knowing where to go, not knowing what to prioritize.

I think I might forever be doomed to this hemming and hawing. That’s quite sad.

I’d been doing a fair number of reading lately, and I’m slightly ahead with four books read on the third week of the year; the fourth was a re-read, which made reading quicker. I’m tracking progress on my library page, which (for now) unlinked on the main menu and updated manually. (I plan on using the Now Reading plugin for it, but until I have time to sit down and sort itself out, the manually updating WP page will have to do. (I also actually feel like changing the actual layout, but we’ll see.) Much thanks to Vega for pointing it out!) So far, I’ve read the following:

1. The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath (finished January 3)
2. My Name is Red by Orhan Pamuk (finished January 13)
3. The Amulet of Samarkand (book one in The Bartimaeus Trilogy) by Jonathan Stroud (finished January 15)
4. Dusk (Po-on) by F. Sionil Jose (finished January 17)

I mean to write down my thoughts of each book in particular soon. :) As for the last, it was a re-read as I wanted to finally finish the Rosales novels by the same author, and in chronological order, Dusk is the first. I’d read Dusk before, but haven’t read the rest, although I know I had picked up My Brother, My Executioner sometime but have not finished it. I’m now reading Tree, the second book according to chronology.

I’m liking the fact that having a goal for the year (50 books) is spurring me to rediscover my love for reading. I’ve always loved reading as a child all the way ’til I was in high school, but when college came and I was caught up in the Whole New World of software, web development, and of course Having A Boyfriend™ — I did not read as much as I should have (nor write, for that matter). I read here and there but I probably read only five new books a year; quite a disgrace.

Now I’ve started to slip back into reading, and I like it. My boss/friend Pao and I were talking on the way to Makati one day early this week, where I told him about my plan to read 50 books this year, and he said that it was something he regretted not doing as a child — read more books. He said he thought that reading is something you develop an interest for when you’re still a child, and once you’re grown it’s difficult to get into if you weren’t keen on reading when you were younger. And I think he’s right, and I’m grateful my parents let us have all the books we wanted (within reason) when we were kids. (My mom used to get angry with me, though, because once we bought a book from the bookstore (usually Nancy Drew) I would read them on the way home, and I’d have finished it already by the time we got home as the travel time then was around an hour and a half. Hee.)

It’s curious, though, about how people exactly get/develop that interest in reading. My older sister and I are avid readers, but our youngest, quite sadly, doesn’t. She tries to keep up with us — she’d propose we sit around and read, but after a few minutes of sitting/lying/etc still and reading, she’d start talking, or get bored with her book. I think she’s getting more interested in books now, which is great; she always wants to go to the bookstore and sit around and read. The thought intrigued me, though — how do people develop that interest in reading? Is it developed, or handed down, or a product of your environment, or…? Maybe it’s all three (or whatever else).

How did you start reading?