The Musings of

Something full of magic, religion, bullsh*t.

In a clear attempt to actually get me to post something, Fitz has made me the latest chain mail recipient of a book meme that is making the rounds (the other two poor saps are stag and E. Spat). I suppose it's only fitting, considering I usually steal my post ideas from him.

1. You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451, which book do you want to be saved?

Extraordinarily tough question. Do you go for art or historical importance? Fiction or non-fiction? White or wheat? Fortunately, Feddie has already saved The Bible and Publius has risked it all for Shakespeare (no doubt influenced by John the Savage), so I can eliminate those two. While my mind is leading me one way, I'm going to go with my heart on this one. I would save Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird because it is one of the best portrayals of justice and tolerance (something our book-burning society obviously needs), but mostly because if one book gets saved, it should be a Southerner.

2. Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?

Not really a crush, but I have had strong feelings for/about Jane Eyre and Natasya from The Idiot.

3. The last book you purchased?

Busted. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (I want to re-read it before the next book comes out, and I'm too lazy to go find my other copy).

4. What are you currently reading?

If on a Winter's Night a Traveler by Italo Calvino.

5. Five books you would take to a deserted island?

Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand
Look Homeward, Angel by Thomas Wolfe
I Haven't Understood Anything Since 1962 by Lewis Grizzard
War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy
A River Runs Through It by Norman Maclean:

"Of course, now I am too old to be much of a fisherman, and now of course I usually fish the big waters alone, although some friends think I shouldn't. Like many fly fishermen in western Montana where the summer days are almost Arctic in length, I often do not start fishing until the cool of the evening. Then in the Arctic half-light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a four-count rhythm and the hope that a fish will rise.

Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.

I am haunted by waters."

Damn, I love that.

In the time-honored tradition of chain letters, I must send this to three other bloggers to answer. I choose TP, j-a, and E.McPan. 

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