"An Instance of Harmonious Clashing"--Friday, 6/17/16
This saturated-pastel tweed jacket with a graphic T combination is so, so cute.
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| From respecttheshoes.blogspot.com |
I'm not sure that the cauliflower-crust pizza she talks about in the
post
inspires the same level of enthusiasm, though. I have a bad history
with fake pizza crusts--at best, they have tasted like cardboard; at
worst, they are a sodden mess. I appreciate that she observed, "That
shit isn't pizza."
So I decided to skip the pizza recipe and try my hand at a version of her outfit using this floral graphic T that I just can't quit despite the fact that it faded egregiously on the back after so few wears. The print is irresistible. Even when I say, All right now, I'm getting rid of this thing, I can't stick to it. It's flawed but lovable, which isn't a bad thing to be.
I thought this top and jacket played well together with those bright pink/coral and orchid colors that don't match but create a bit of extra visual interest. I tried some more dramatic colors of shoes (e.g., bright teal) but settled on these orchid ones that match the top. There was already enough going on in this outfit.
Beige graphic T with floral design
and stupid faded back (Eddie Bauer), $3.75/wear
Coral tweed blazer (thrifted, Chico's), $2.33/wear
Trouser jeans (thrifted, JCP), $0.63/wear
Orchid flats by Born, $1.79/wear
Outfit total: $8.50/wear
Speaking of interesting pairings, here is a photo of an American robin (top) and a song sparrow (bottom) for your enjoyment. I had been chasing the song sparrow with my camera and just happened to catch him after he settled on the path next to the robin.
In other news...This "
Style Sudoku" is incredibly cool. Kind of makes me want to give it a try!
This evening while eating dinner I finally finished
The Madness of July by James Naughtie, which is "A Thriller" according to the cover (also "an explosive, brilliantly written spy novel...a spy novel for the ages"). I had gotten this book in advanced reading copy from my mom's library.
To call this book the
Crossing Guard of spy novels would be an extremely generous gesture. At least
The Crossing Guard had the 2 minutes of excitement (albeit that we saw in their entirety during the preview). This book was utterly dull all the way through (so I suppose we can give it credit for its consistency).
It was boring, but I read on, waiting for the big reveal at the end, but everything remained
vague. Even when the characters themselves act as though huge secrets
are being shared, unspeakable truths are being admitted, and loose
tongues are out of control...well, they really weren't saying anything.
I mean, we did find out that Character X was trying to undermine
Character Y (for unknown reasons) but I didn't really have any sense of
who X and Y were because with a couple of minor exceptions (a secretary, the main character's wife), all these people--well, all these men--were interchangeable.
Even at the very end of the book, I wasn't sure what had happened. There was some mysterious deep political/spy kerfuffle, cloaked in fog and studded with banality, that resolved itself when we find out that this one minister murdered someone, then he kills himself. I'm still not really sure why, though, nor do I understand how any of it links up with the events in Berlin (I also don't know what they were but "Berlin" is a word with a super-mysterious aura about it, invoked with ominous significance by various characters). There are a bunch of different, possibly inter-related secrets and mini-scandals that never lined up for me at all.
But wait, against all efforts, I am making this book sound more interesting that it is. OK, yes. There's murder! There's suicide! There's an old rape! There's drug use! Yeah, we get to hear a bit about that. But mostly we follow this minister/ex-spy as he calls people on the phone or visits them in person and has iceberg conversations in which 90% of the meaning is beneath the surface (and remains entirely obscure to the reader).
Here is a typical exchange:
"Jackson...Will Flemyng. I'm terribly sorry to ring you on a Sunday."
The response held no hint of caution. "Will! My pleasure. I'm afraid I'm half naked in my garden, but you'll be relieved to hear that we don't run to a pool. I'm enjoying what I'm told is going to be the last of summer. How're tricks?" He knew Flemyng would enjoy the friendly shamelessness of his greeting, as if nothing was disturbing the Wherry weekend.
And in turn he would enjoy the artifice of their conversation. Knowing some of what Flemyng must conceal, and aware that there would be much more of which he knew nothing, Wherry relished the game. "I'm all yours, Will." Then, upping the pace, "Where are you?"
This kind of thing goes on ad nauseum. It's like 50% the world's most boring small talk and 50% characters thinking about and reflecting on exactly how the use of a dangling participle in the third sentence of their conversation after a precise 5 second pause will unnerve their opponent and force them to reveal more than they should. (From a reader perspective, nothing is ever revealed, of course.)
That's not entirely fair. The novel also offers detailed physical descriptions of how people stand and move and frequent introspection by the main character on his own mood and his read of the moods of people around him. That we do not know how to read these physical clues nor can we understand where any of these (not very dramatic) moods are coming from...oh well. This spy shit is subtle.
Curious what other people made of this book, I found this review in
The Guardian. He nails it when he calls out the book's "atmosphere of portentous abstraction." I am glad I'm not the only reader to walk away from it feeling "disoriented and decidedly unthrilled."
