What made you want to read that?

My tastes are certainly eclectic. Anyone who knows me would agree with that, though there are certain topics I read nothing of--sports, for instance. What's exciting is coming across titles you had no knowledge of until the moment you find them at some sale or on a shelf at the library. I think there are a number of factors that draw people to a particular book, and the following is one example--I'll post more later.
When I was in high school--a small school in rural Michigan--the library there was in many ways the best in town, since it actually carried titles that would never have survived at the public library. I don't know if the latter carried a copy of Faulkner's "Light in August", but it was at the high school that I came across this book. I'm sure I barely knew who this writer was when I found it there, but the particular edition there undoubtedly had something to do with pulling me in. Sometime after Faulkner got the Nobel Prize his early and important works were reprinted in lovely re-issues by Random House, but these editions came with the assumption that readers were already astute enough to know what these books were about, or that at the least they shouldn't worry about such things since, after all, it's William Faulkner. Hence the inside flap for "Light" had absolutely no description of the plot, other than something to the effect that it was "Faulkner's seventh novel..." and was published in 1932. This intrigued me: what was it about? At that time I read a lot of science fiction, but this was probably not that. And what did the title mean? Sure there's light in August, just like there is the rest of the year. There was nothing to do but go to the first page and begin reading. A young woman is walking along the road....
That beginning was more than enough to suck me in, but I must admit it took me a long time--like about two years--to actually get to the end. I think the issue was simply that I had never read anything like this book, and so, not being quite up to snuff, I had to put it down for awhile before I could finish it, at which point I was in college. What I want to emphasize here is how it wasn't the content of the book but rather its physical quality--mysterious, "literary", before-my-time--that did it. It was only much later that I fully understood how great the book really was. If someone had said to me in 12th grade, "Would you like to read a book set in the South, about a white man obsessed with possibly having black blood, and these crazy characters in the town where he lives?", I would've been very uninterested. Please, give me Bradbury or Asimov instead.
This is the heart of browsing, and it has nothing to do with teachers or taste, but rather simple curiosity.

Introductory Thoughts

Thing #3. This is the first post to indicate my start of the "23 Things" training program for Kent District Library. First a note about the blog title. This seems to be a good description of who I am, among many other facets of my personality. Among my many normal dreams (and others that can't be mentioned here that only get put down, if at all, in a personal journal) I have a recurring one about being somewhere and coming upon a stash, a cache, or a box of books. This is obviously part of the "wish-fulfilling" process that dreams do for us, and for me the dream of digging through some potentially exciting and unknown collection is one that goes very very deep. Fortunately though this activity is not just limited to the nocturnal, eyes-shut variety. Since I work at a public library that takes donations to (mostly) sell, I get to do a lot of digging. It's like seeing a random sampling of the history of recent American publishing, all in the space of five boxes. Just yesterday I came across a copy of a book a friend also owns--a great oldie called "Handbook of Nature Study", originally published in 1911 but, having gone through at least 24 editions, is obviously a work of some value. But that's enough for now. I am on work time after all.
OK, a few thoughts about the challenges of lifelong learning (#3 on the 23 Things) . To begin with, the stuff was pretty basic; I actually skipped some parts. But it was nevertheless somewhat useful. I think my biggest problem with learning is not the desire, but the distraction or even dissolution of that desire. Put another way, I have so many interests, that at times it can be hard to get focused on one thing and stick with it to the degree that a decent amount of skill is acquired. Secondly, I'd say that if something is required of me, but I don't have that desire, it's harder to take it seriously and get it done. This would explain why my grades in school were all over the map!
So, on to Thing #4. I can easily say that the "thing" I'm most excited about is Library Thing, which is a site I'm already familiar with, having heard about it from a daily e-mail/newsletter we get here that covers libraries and bookstores. But I must confess that I have quite a soft spot for a metal card file box I have at home that currently has a couple hundred cards in it, all of which enable me to find my books which are in boxes in my attic. I started this project about ten years ago, when I was doing some cataloging at my last library job. And though Library Thing strikes me as very neat, I will not be throwing out my cards anytime soon. They're just too easy to use. I will admit though that having remote access to my list would at times be handy....

Flickr versus Photobucket

This is for assignment #5. I first looked at Flickr, then Photobucket (hereafter referred to as F. and P.). F. was certainly more interesting from a graphic point of view--much nicer to look at. Especially helpful was the short "guided tour" they offered that pretty much laid out everything they offered. I used this and then, since I'm interested in maps and geography, tried the map option. This was mostly good, though sometimes hard to operate the Zoom option. Many of the photos--I'm saying this as someone who likes photography a lot, especially the older kind--struck me as OK, but not great. But I realize that's only part of what the site is all about. Obviously sharing family/friend pictures is a big part of it.
P. was less appealing graphically, and did not have a guided tour, which was unfortunate. I did a search on the image/video option and found some things, but nothing great. Again though I'm looking at it from an artist's point of view. I think when it comes to the personal sharing part it's quite similar.

Zodiac

I finished watching the David Fincher film "Zodiac" last night. Despite his status as something of a cult director, I had not yet seen anything by him. And even with this work, I was somewhat hesitant, since the combination of serial killers and movies is often one that means lots of blood. My tolerance for such things is much higher than that of my wife's (which is almost nil), but it's enough to keep me away from many such films. But I was wrong to think this was going to be a gore-fest. With the exception of about three minutes' worth of rather nasty killing (of both the gun and knife variety), this was an incredibly atmospheric, suspenseful and satisfying work which delivered its pleasure mostly through the dialogue of men, both police and press, seeking the identity of a man who takes great relish in keeping them guessing. It also has a great line about library books and libraries.

I've never been to California, but did come of age in the time (1969-1991) the movie covers. Needless to say, the way this film shows that era--mostly the seventies--is nothing short of gorgeous. There are few movies, and this is one of them, that makes you look at reality with new eyes after you've finished watching it. What is in some ways a film noir is also a sort of nostalgia piece for a time that, despite its many problems, actually looks simpler than our own. Now, I know this is a simplification, but it's so refreshing to see less technology, to not see people on cell phones every other minute (no, I don't own one) and to revel in the wonderfully decayed world of industrial and suburban San Francisco. (To be fair, it's not all decay, but it was quite prominent.)

The fact that library books play a role is great fun. Robert Graysmith (played by Jake Gyllenhaal) is an amateur sleuth who already seems to own a copy of David Kahn's classic work "The Codebreakers" when Zodiac sends his first coded letter. The best scene in this regard comes in the second half, when Graysmith proudly tells a TV reporter that he broke the code with the help of "books from the library". Paul Avery, a sometime-friend from the newspaper where both men work, watches the broadcast resentfully from a bar while he takes hits of oxygen to stay alive. "F----ing library" he mutters. I've never quite heard resentment to the library expressed so succinctly and profanely at the same time. Also I think it's been quite awhile since I've seen a book that I also own shown so prominently in a movie.

Regarding the ending--no, I won't give much away here--this too was part of the pleasure the film delivered. I've thought for a number of years now that the way a movie (or a book, for that matter) concludes is hugely important to how much it stays with the viewer. I know this is not an original thought, but it does seem to get overlooked in all the hoopla about this or that actor, or the special effects, or something else. A case in point for me is the ending of Terrence Malick's "Days of Heaven" (one of my favorite films). Linda, played by Linda Manz, has just gone through her purgatory on the farm of Sam Shepard, witnessing both beauty and destruction. She is then summarily sent to a girls' school from which she very quickly escapes. The last scene shows her and a friend skipping down some railroad tracks, destination unknown. How wonderfully open-ended! "Zodiac" does something like this in that there is no "final showdown" (so prominent today) between the killer and his pursuers--we learn the former's fate only at the credits-- just a long, knowing glare in the humble setting of an Ace Hardware Store.