Monday, September 13, 2021

It's Alright, Ma (It's Only Another Glitch in The Bleeding Matrix)

Four weeks ago (as the crow flies) my big sister sent me an Amazon gift card for my birthday. I have a hard time spending gift cards. They always seem to be either too much or not enough...and I take them way too seriously, always asking, "Is this worthy of a Gift Card?" So I try to pick things that I really want but wouldn't buy for myself because they are exorbitantly priced. Which is how I came to choose Thy Kingdom Come: 19 Short Stories by 11 Hungarian Authors...a not very big (320 pages, 5-ish x 7-ish inches) paperback which sits at  #2,476,300 in Best Sellers Rank: Books on Amazon's Best Sellers List. I've seen copies of this book listed as high as $978. No shit. In fact, the cheapest one on Amazon right now is $61.54. But this book had two László Krasznahorkai stories--"The Bogdanovich Story" and "The Last Boat"--which were available (at least as of this writing) nowhere else. And I found a copy for $32. So yes, Gift Card time. 

I was also looking for a copy of Thomas Mann's The Magic Mountain as translated by Helen Tracy Lowe-Porter (HERE).  Which I found... but not at a price which would fit within my Gift Card's remaining budget. As I perused the listings, though, I found another book which looked interesting: Mobius Dick by Andrew Crumey. (It made some mention or use of The Magic Mountain, hence the link up.) Well. You had me at Mobius. So I checked it out on the internets, found it more and more interesting, and ended up ordering it. It fit so nicely into my budget that I still had enough left over to order a Kindle copy of Whale Heart by Christoffer Petersen...the fifth book in his Greenland Noir series starring Constable David Maratse, currently one of my favorite characters. 

I emailed my sister to tell her what I'd gotten on her dime, and she wrote back that she was interested in Mobius Dick because of her long-time interest in the Möbius strip. (She's a math genius who works for NASA, so....) 

Okay?

Okay.

So this morning I was finishing up Laura Lippman's Dream Girl, a novel I'd procured on 7 day loan from the local branch of the public library because I'd heard a review of it on NPR. Which was odd, by the way, because (1) I rarely pursue things that I hear about on the radio, in part because I usually don't remember enough details about what I heard in order to find it, (2) the book is extremely popular right now, so finding a copy was a bit of a surprise, (3) I rarely check out 7 day loan books because I read so many books in the course of a day (at least 8) that it is highly unlikely that I can finish a book in a week, and (4) I was trying to read an advance copy of the aforementioned Christoffer Petersen's forthcoming YA book, so I really didn't need the distraction of another book. But for some reason I picked it up, and wonder of wonders I actually tore through it, finishing it in a few days. And close to the end of my reading, as in last night (full circle now), I read this:


Well. 

That's kind of weird, ennit?



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