May Reading Wrap-Up

Well, wrapping up isn't too hard where May is concerned because, um, I finished reading only 2 books, one of them being a book club pick which basically is semi-required reading. I've been busy last month with the "launch" of my online biz selling brioche loaves, which I will not bore you with (but just in case you're in the Metro Manila area or nearby provinces and would like to try, search M Home Bakes on IG and check it out, heh). 

A Death in the Family by James Agee has been on my TBR for many years now. Just from the title you'd know it deals with heavy stuff, and it did. It does. I picked it up now because I felt that I was ready for the material, that with my personal experiences I felt that I could relate. Heavy stuff, this one. Whew. 

But the beautiful thing about A Death in the Family was the prose. It was so lilting, so detailed and exquisite, that the most mundane of things transformed into thrilling, wonderful experiences. I definitely haven't read about the croaking of the frogs or the sound of the crickets to be so captivating, or the unceremonious actions of heating water in the kettle for tea, taking out cups and saucers for the teabags, or turning off the fire when the water has long evaporated to be articulate or even remotely fascinating. 

It also didn't deal solely with the death in the family. It also traversed the long-lasting, perhaps permanent, effects of such a loss. There's the immediate shock to the family members, the well-meaning condolences bereft of true meaning when you really think about it, and then when the mourners have long gone, the emptiness. What was particularly interesting was its effect on Rufus, the boy, and how he dealt the event. Lest I spoil anything, I will stop here, and let you get on to reading the novel. 

Rated this 3/5.

On the other hand, David Sedaris' Me Talk Pretty One Day started off with a really promising, funny story about his "S" problem, but I found out later on that I was practically forcing myself to read anecdote after next anecdote (reminiscent of my reading pace in the John Le Carre book from last month, huhu) just to reach the ending. It was a boring memoir, and I could hardly remember any of the anecdotes from it now, if I try to recall. I liked that he was a "live artist" whatever that was, went to live in France, and tried to learn the language. His drug addiction wasn't one to emulate, definitely, but I appreciated that he sobered up and got his act together (presumably, right?). Over-all, however, I didn't enjoy the book all that much. It was funny in parts, boring for the most. Ergo, 2/5. 

Hoping to get more reading done this month!