To Top
My new office is a multi-company space, largely filled by an architecture firm that surrounds the walls + crevices + overhangs with towers and bridges and skyscrapers. The rest of the space is filled with a combination of tech companies, start-ups and one non-profit. There is a free, one-cup-flowing-a-plenty coffee maker within the kitchen/staff room and a large, flat screen TV adorning the wall. And while all these things are welcome and quite an upgrade from past work environments – my favorite feature of my new office is the employee book exchange.
The deal is thus … you bring a book, you share a book, you take a book, you read a book. This is how I came to hold ‘The Girl in Blue’. See, a friend had given me two of the ‘Twilight’ books because he was uninterested in the tale – and I admit to feeling the exact same way. But throwing away a book is incredibly wasteful, so instead I brought the two tomes to my book exchange and instead found this brightly-covered, humorous, little gem and was able to enjoy a tale much more to my liking.
‘Expecting conceit they found courtesy. Expecting arrogance they found a man concerned with people’s thoughts and feelings.’
And me - expecting a sweet little story – found an in-your-face, wham bam, bordering-on-vulgar, yet nonetheless exciting mobster tale. Let me tell you, dear little Jackie Collins has got a mouth on her like a truck driver. She frequently drops the f’bomb, hesitates little in calling women C-U-Next-Tuesdays or – most blush-inducing for me because I hate the word – the p word {the p-word = sometimes followed by cat or willow}, and describes sexual acts in extreme details, aka this book is NOT for the faint of heart.
‘We came home because we were failures … we crafted careful excuses and alibis, and wrapped them around ourselves like a cloak to keep out the cold truth.’
The story opens as three sisters: Rosalind, Bianca and Cordelia – named after characters from Shakespeare’s infamous writings – head back to their childhood home, for three different reasons and with three very different internal issues to work out.
Cuddling with my pug, my oversized coffee cup and a new book is one of my most favorite pastimes. I read anything – from Clancy to Capote; autobiographies or romance – I just love a good book. Ninety percent of the time I am able to recall a books’ characters and plot when asked, however, some novelettes just float into the back recesses of my brain and are lost in the abyss. That is why I wanted to document my literary journey – so I could A) remember all that I have read, B) be prepared at the drop of a hat when people are itching for recommendations, and C) recall my thoughts on a novel and be able to share them + my favorite quotes – ten, twenty, thirty years down the line.
‘There is a legend about a bird which sings just once in its life, more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth. From the moment it leaves the nest it searches for a thorn tree, and does not rest until it has found one. Then, singing among the savage branches, it impales itself upon the longest, sharpest spine. And, dying, it rises above its own agony to out-carol the lark and the nightingale. One superlative song, existence the price. But the whole world stills to listen, and God in His heaven smiles. For the best is only bought at the cost of great pain … Or so says the legend.’
I have a deep connection with books; always have had. It started with my love for ‘The Little Mouse, The Red Ripe Strawberry, and The Big Hungry Bear‘ and has only grown with age. When I am happy I read silly, romance books. When I am lost I read books of hope and strong character. Reading was forced on me in my youth by my mother, who required my sisters and I read 1 hour every day. I learned how to read between the lines by teachers in high school and college who took the time to teach me how to truly feel a book and not just read for the base facts. But it isn’t until recently that I have started reading books for solace, instruction, comfort and for the sheer pleasure of the words. I still occasionally read a trashy romance novel – and love every minute – but I read more predominately to challenge my ideals and expand my thoughts. This novel did just that.
I love the movie, love the style, love the actress, love love love everything about Breakfast at Tiffany’s – but still I had never read the original namesake novel. I knew the story of Holly Golightly, or at least I thought I did, but after reading this novel I realized there was so much more to the story.
‘… the mean reds are horrible. You’re afraid and you sweat like hell, but you don’t know what you’re afraid of. Except something bad is going to happen, only you don’t know what it is.’
Everyone knows a girl like Holly. A girl who walks into a room and lights it up with her mere presence. A girl who has no real reason or validation to be so confident and assured, yet is the strongest woman in any group. She is coarse, she is uneducated, she curses like a sailor, her profession is not one most women chose for themselves – yet she is insanely likeable and enviable. And this is due entirely to how Capote portrays his heroine.
