Because I don't actually have anything halfway-constructive or even interesting to say, I'm linking up with the Book Chewers again, because (thankfully) they do. I had so much freaking time in yestermoon, that strange time of July; so much time, in fact, that I had absolutely nothing to do but be bored, and lament about how there wasn't a wedding or reunion of some sort to attend. August, however, is an entirely different story. August means packing dishes in boxes that used to hold cheap Merlot (as I previously mentioned). August means shopping for woolens and notebooks. August means preparing for the next ten months of grueling study (have I told you that I'm not really looking forward to it? Oh, yes, I have.). So, here we go. Sending you all virtual banana bread.
Books that made me laugh: A Year in Provence and Toujours Provence by Peter Mayle. Should you ever want to read endless accounts of French desserts, hidden cafes and magical truck-stops, complete with sardonic feelings for the English and the American, drunken wasps, and frog choirs...
Books that disturbed me/angered me: The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. Oh, no, stop the madness.
Books that terrified me within an inch of my life: And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie. More chilling than Benedict Cumberbatch's Star Trek smile.
|No, not that one.|
Books that made me feel nostalgic: All Creatures Great and Small by James Herriot. Enough said. And A Lantern in Her Hand, by Bess Streeter Aldrich (it's kind of one of my favourite books, and I've read it seven times, so I guess that it should make me feel nostalgic).
Books that were a tad disappointing: Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins. It fell under the I-just-summed-up-every-dystopian-trilogy-in-less-than-two-minutes category.
Books that made me feel terrible: A Night to Remember by Walter Lord. A step-by-step, minute-by-minute account of the Titanic's sinking, told from varying perspectives and including a full passenger list in the back (I did check for Rose DeWitt Bukater and Jack Dawson... *sheepish grin*). And The Book Thief by Markus Zusak (it's narrated by Death, and for future references, everybody dies).