This scientist of the future would no doubt be struck by all kinds of odd things in the car. Chief among them would be its many toys: trolls in assorted festive colors; Mike and Sully, the gay couple from the film Monsters, Inc.; a Magna Doodle. It is possible she would also discover a tin with some leftover mints, though I may well have eaten those in an attempt to prolong my unexpectedly subterranean life. Most intriguing, though, would be the car's vast collection of books, a veritable library of Alexandria on wheels. Here are a few titles she would note as she composed her list of "tomes interred as grave goods":
- Vikings: A Very Short Introduction
- The Little Mermaid, Disney picture book version
- Summerland (Michael Chabon)
- You Can Be a Ballerina!
- Mr Brown Can Moo. Can You? (Dr. Seuss; see here for a suggestion of possible homoeroticism and pedophilia in this underappreciated author)
- The Botany of Desire (Michael Pollan)
- Vampire Plagues: Mexico, 1850 (Sebastian Rook)
- Dead Lovers: Erotic Bonds and the Study of Premodern Europe (page proofs)
- The Shadow of the Wind (Carlos Ruiz Zafon)
- The Spectral Jew (Steve Kruger)
- That's Not My Tractor!
- The Subject of Violence (Peter Haidu)
Look for reviews of several of these books to appear here in the weeks ahead. [And don't get your hopes up that You Can Be a Ballerina! will be among them because -- astoundingly, and unlike most other medievalists -- such has never been my desire].
I find it interesting that the subtitle to That's Not My Tractor is Its Engine is Too Bumpy. I think that the guy over at the Unlocked Wordhoard ought to deconstruct that...
I find it interesting that you cared enough to find that fact out.
Kid #2 dreams of wearing a tutu while operating heavy machinery. The ballerina and tractor books are both hers.
darn it, I was hoping that 'you can be a ballerina!' might the sister of 'writing your dissertation in 15 minutes a day!'
though, i'd be sure to hold out for 'you can be a solid gold dancer!'
my trunk has lots of GnR tapes, a scuzzy beach blanket, a fuzzy unicorn, jumper cables, and a road atlas. and, sadly, a box full of pennies.
Doesn't ballet + heavy machinery = Maoism?
Or is that just me?
I'm confused, what's wrong with wearing a tutu while operating a tractor? When I was little, I had similar dreams. Oops, perhaps I've said too much. I'm sure she'll turn out perfectly fine, I sure did.
HD: didn't I ever tell you I WAS a solid gold dancer, until I got that hernia? Oy, medieval studies was the only thing left to me after that.
Karl: Stop browsing vintage Maoist propaganda posters and finsih writing your dissertation. You can do it in 15 minutes a day, I hear.
J/E: Pas de comment.
Glad my bookgroup was reading something worthy of noting!
Post a Comment