Summerhouse

I've been spending the weekend in the summerhouse, and as always I come more than adequately prepared. Two bags filled with books, since I find that a nice selection to choose from makes the whole reading experience more enjoyable.

Last night I finished reading a biography on the Danish author Tove Ditlevsen written by Karen Syberg. To say that Ditlevsen had a rough and sad life would be the understatement of the century. Interestingly enough, as with so many of the great artists, her writing is at its very finest whenever she hits a rough patch. It wasn't even my intention to start on that particular book right now, but while visiting my parents last weekend I saw the book, and started reading in it, during a quiet moment in their backyard. And thus my interest was sparked. My mum had discarded the book, for the time being, due to the very depressing nature of the text. That never stopped me though. Having only read a couple of Ditlevsen's books and some of her poetry it was fascinating to get a guided introduction to not only her life, but also her work. Syberg does a great job of showing how events in Ditlevsens life gets transformed into literature. The book has pictures throughout and it is heartbreaking to see how this once beautiful woman was completely deteriorated by her fifties. The book manages at the same time to include a portrait of the times in which Ditlevsen grew up and came to the height of her popularity. After having finished reading the biography, I've begun reading Ditlevsen's own books. Stocking up at my local library during the week, knowing that I would want to immerse myself in them after finishing Syberg's book.

As always I'm reading several books at the same time. The Plague of Doves by Louise Erdrich is another one I'm reading right now. I haven't heard of Erdrich before, and the reason I picked this particular book up, was an author recommendation on the cover. Normally I don't go by these famous people recommendations as a barometer for picking books, but when Philip Roth says, "This is Erdrich's dazzling masterpiece - her imaginative freedom has reached its zenith" I listen. I'm a little stuck at the moment. She's playing around with her narrators, something I usually find interesting, but for some reason her way of doing it isn't working for me. I'll finish it in the next couple of days though. I've come to far to stop now. But I'm seriously reconsidering my decision of listening to Roth.

Another book I just finished that also has an interesting way of shuffling narrators is Invisble by Paul Auster. By far one of his most powerful books, and a story that in many ways was startlingly original. A story of a young man, dreaming of becoming a poet, who witnesses an act so violent and ruthless it changes his life forever. The structure of the book is brilliant and I plan to read it once more to really appreciate what Auster achieves. I wish I could say more, but feel as though it would ruin the book. Needless to say, it goes places I would never have imagined, and I'm thankful for that.

Yesterday I went to the local bookstore here by the summerhouse. It's a very small store, and it has a very small selection of new books. What's interesting, though, is that like a hidden treasure chamber, they have a small back room filled with used books of all kinds. As always I never have enough time when browsing through shelves filled with books. This being a small town the stores close early, and as closing time ticked nearer, I seriously considered ripping random books off the shelves and just going for it. I composed myself though, and ended up leaving with nine books. Among the more interesting acquisitions was a handbook on making 8mm films released by Kodak here in Denmark. The book does not credit any author, and was released in 1940. It's a gorgeous hardcover book that gives a fantastic and detailed description of the whole movie making process. This is why rummaging through a large amount of boring books is worthwhile.

Among the other titles I got was a translation of a short story collection by Ivo Andrić called Torso, released in 1966, and Enemies: A Love Story by Isaac Bashevis Singer in a paperback edition from 1980. This together with some essay collections and a couple of travel books from the fifties was my find this time.