A lion is made up of the lambs he's digested, and I've been reading all my life.

The bus won't be far away now. Hobart GPO, Elizabeth Street. October 2011.

Just the one book finished this week, although that was enough to push me past my nominated 85 book challenge at the beginning of the year (more on that later).

This week it was Doris Lessing's The Fifth Child. Billed as a "contemporary gothic horror", it centres on the unravelling of a serene family-life upon the arrival of their fifth child.

I'm not sure about this book. I think that I can grasp the key themes: modern society's drift from its more brutal past, the notion of a maternal bond, the authoritarian character and the thin veneer of civility. I'm just not convinced of the characters. I'm not sure how I'm to feel about the characters, and hope that the sympathy I felt for the 'monster' at the centre of the piece is a fair result.

Nonetheless, it is a decent read and can be recommended. I'd avoid it if you're expecting a baby any time soon though...

Comments

Roddy said…

I am always in awe of the workmanship that went into the buildings of yesteryear. Somehow it looks so perfect.

28 October 2011 at 13:25

Leovi said…

Gorgeous blue sky with clouds and a great perspective. Nice photo.

28 October 2011 at 17:20

Mrsupole said…

Well since you mentioned monsters, can you see the one to the right of the clock tower? I swear I can even see the mouth full of teeth. Just ask anyone else if they see it. I am not sure if you meant to put it in there because of the book or if you just clicked and it is there because of the book. Just a scary thought.

God bless.

28 October 2011 at 19:17

Roddy said…

Cloud people I see! Or are they cloud monsters?

28 October 2011 at 21:11

Kris McCracken said…

Roddy, it needs a clean.

Leovi, I was waiting for the bus home.

Mrsupole, monsters surround us each and every day!

1 November 2011 at 14:15

Hold me now, oh hold me now, until this hour has gone around. And I'm gone on the rising tide, to face Van Dieman's Land

Theme Thursday again, and this one is rather easy. I am Tasmanian, you see, and aside from being all around general geniuses - as I have amply described previously - we are also very familiar with the concept of WATER. Tasmania is the ONLY island state of an ISLAND continent. That means, we're surrounded by WATER. That should help explain why I take so many photographs of water . Tasmania was for a long time the place where the British (an island race terrified of water) sent their poor people most vile and horrid criminals. The sort of folk who would face the stark choice of a death sentence , or transportation to the other end of the world. Their catalogue of crimes is horrifying : stealing bread assault stealing gentlemen's handkerchiefs drunken assault being poor affray ladies being overly friendly with gentlemen for money hitting people having a drink and a laugh public drunkenness being Irish Fenian terrorist activities being Catholic religious subversion. ...

Something unpleasant is coming when men are anxious to tell the truth.

This is the moon. Have I mentioned how much I adore the zoom on my camera? It's Theme Thursday you see, and after last week's limp effort, I have been thinking about how I might redeem myself. Then I clicked on the topic and discover that it was BUTTON. We've been hearing a lot about the moon in the past couple of weeks. Apparently some fellas went up there and played golf and what-not forty-odd years ago. The desire to get to the moon, however, was not simply about enhancing opportunities for Meg and Mog titles and skirting local planning by-laws in the construction of new and innovative golf courses. No, all of your Sputniks , "One small steps" and freeze dried ice cream was about one thing , and one thing only : MAD Now, I don't mean mad in terms of "bloke breaks record for number of scorpions he can get up his bum", no I mean MAD as in Mutual assured destruction . When I was a young man you see, there was a lot of talk about the type of m...

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral...

This will hurt me...

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