Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden which, though I found very enthralling, I'm ashamed to say I did not finish. I will someday, though. Like in real life, I am having an identity crisis with my taste in books. The book I read prior to Memoirs is Sexing The Cherry by Jeanette Winterson which, many of my close friends and some of you may know, I speak very highly of. Winterson had such an effect on me, that all the books I [desperately tried to] read after her just didn't work out. I'd give up in the middle of the first chapter, having felt that I am not feeling enough. I had a certain hunger in me that I didn't know how to satisfy. Sexing the Cherry filled me, satisfied me of all wonderful, sometimes harrowing, emotions that when it ended, left me bloated but light and empty like a balloon high up from the ground.
I have found my home in magical realism and contemporary literature. Though, of course, classics will always be my first love. I mean, who doesn't love a good ol' Fitzgerald (The Great Gatsby), Salinger (The Catcher in the Rye) and Barrie (Peter Pan)?
So now I'm reading Jonathan Safran Foer's Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. I've had my eye on this book for months, and now I finally have a copy! I actually am not sure what this book is about, but I've always promised myself never to be discriminating. The only part where I allow myself to be discriminating is when it's about the cover art. I am a sucker for cover art. Guilty. I judge a book by it's pretty covers. Reason why I fell in love with this book in the first place. Because unlike in real life, with books, it's never too early to say 'I love you.' Heh.
I'm very happy that I feel so enthusiastic about books again. I really missed reading. I bought six new books this week. I'll introduce my new babies to y'all in another post. (Which means more book entries for this blog as well. YAY.)
How about you, guys? Any good reads you want to share?