We go together like a horse and carriage

To switch things up a bit, I'm actually going to be comparing "A Temporary Matter" and "The Third and Final Continent". The differing dynamics of these two marriages intrigue me. One for love and fallen apart, the other arranged and standing strong.

One just has to look at it and ask "Why?"

Shoba and Shukumar were obviously very much in love at one time. They were Americans with Indian heritage and lived by American ideals-- for all that they ate Indian food. And when their marriage hit a rough part it fell apart, like so many American marriages.

On the other hand, the man from "The Third and Final Continent" and his wife, Mala, had an arranged marriage. One doesn't find out what trials and tribulations they went through as a couple (there always are some), but we do find out that they live a happy life together as close a couple can be.

Now what is the difference here?

I think it is a sense of duty.

Americans are raised to do what they want when they want. We have freedom, dammnit! Whereas, India's culture focuses much more on a sense of duty. You have a duty to your community, your parents, your siblings, your spouse, and your children.

I'm not saying that women should always stay at home and cook, while men should always be the providers. I'm just saying that you should look at this example of sharing responsibilities and refusing to give up because you can't as something that makes a successful marriage. More often than not, it is a sense of responsibility that keeps a marriage together, passion is a bonus.

Shoba and Shukumar both chose to ignore their responsibilities and look at what happened to them. The couple together out of obligation turned out much better.

This is why I did not mind seeing the women "objectified", as people put it, because though the women had a duty her husband, he also had a duty to her. To me, that the most important point. Any two fools can fall in love, but couples often fail when it comes to actually making things work.

Now that you've lost my attention...

Okay, I'll admit it. Travelling around Ireland with a fridge-- a grand idea! I agree with the idea of the 'spirit of fun' and so on. I started reading Round Ireland with a Fridge expecting to be amused, enthralled, and filled with warm bubblies.

The author then proceeded to promptly lose my interest.

Tony Hawks is a dirty rotten rambler whose writing is as dry as stale toast-- and not in the amusing 'I'm snarkily British way'. His writing reminds me of the movie "Ferris Bueller's Day Off". You know that teacher? The one that says "Buelller" repeatedly? Yeah. That bad.

For the people who say that he writes this way because he's British: I like British humor. My favorite author is British, he writes hilarious, satirical, fantasy books. (Terry Pratchett. If you haven't read any of his books, do it. It's a life changing experience.)

The most disappointing part of it all, is that he's telling a genuinely interesting story. It's about fun and laughter and people helping each other and a country coming together to help this crazy bloke with a fridge. This book could be about all of the best qualities of humanity.

Another thing that disappoints me: I feel like Tony is trying to prove to us that he's funny. It's almost like the reason he's unfunny is because he's beating us over the head with dry humor, "Look at me! I'm funny!" It doesn't really work, dry humor should be more subtle. If he wanted to be out there he should have gone for more over-the-top humor, which is another thing Brits are good at. I feel like all his jokes are meant to be some kind of cheesy advertisement, trying to entice us to look him up, buy his CDs, and go to his shows.

Not bloody likely.

I feel like a truly amazing story has been turned into a poor attempt at shameless self promotion by a mediocre comedian.

I want to be the Emerson Spartz of My Sister's Keeper: Kate and Anna should have died.

Though I would like to clarify that I have no desire to create a highly popular and well-known fansite for this book. Just write Kate and Anna Should Have Died, even though it probably wouldn't sell well. My Sister's Keeper isn't a franchise.

But, in all seriousness, Kate and Anna should have died. If Picoult wanted to hammer home the unfariness of Anna's death and the irony of her organs being used, why would she keep Kate alive?

It would have shown the unfairness so much more if Kate had died too.

Also, the book would have been much, much less ridiculously sappy. I mean good god, could Picoult have possibly catered to suburban housewife book clubs any more? Her movel lost it's sense of the profound, and to me, took on a sense of the ridiculous.

It could have made me cry. That's a hard thing to do. You have to make me like the characters, write well, and keep it believable. Kate's survival was just too pat, it was too impossibly perfect: Her sister made the ultimate sacrifice, and gave up her life, and now Kate gets to live because everyone knows getting a kidney transplant will put your cancer into remission!

I know cancer can randomly go into remission, but not like that. Not when you are stuggling to live, going through a surgery no one thinks you can survive, and getting a kidney that your failing body will probably reject.

In real life, people don't get miracles like that!

Thus, with the survival of Kate, the novel went from a semblance of reality to the absurd and Picoult lost all my sympathy.

Way to ruin a novel.

My Sister's Keeper

I missed class today due to exhaustion from being kept up half the night by the idiots living next door; however, I will do the best I can.

My Sister's Keeper is quite the compelling read, a real page turner. Personally, I could not put it own until I found out what happened in the end. The characters are so vibrantly alive, and their situation is unique, but based on some reality.

Campbell Alexander is an intriguing persona and my favorite. He is a seemingly strong man, hiding all these little flaws and weaknesses that make up his ambiguous personality. He is both selfish and generous, and at times he damns himself for his lawyer ethics.

And shockingly, Campbell--the lawyer-- seems to be the only character in this story that has his head on straight and is not running in endless circles of morality. While everyone else is asking themselves repeatedly what is the right thing, he knows. Anna should have the choice.

It's not saying that she will or won't donate the kidney-- just that in the end it's Anna's decsion. Everyone is acting like she is condemning her sister to death but no one sees the real issue: the sanctity of being able to own one's body.

You know, if I was in Anna's position I'd do the same thing.

Loving books?

Here is my post, a day late and a dollar short. My only defense is that last night I was slightly delirious and grouchy from an over abundance of napping, so my post would have been crap anyways. But anyways, we all know what excuses are like so I'm not going to belabor explaining myself.

The last novel we read had a theme that is central to my life, a love of books. However, it was astounding and slightly offensive to me that they weren't talking about the literature. The corporeal body of a book is a beautiful thing. It takes on it's own traits, it own smell, it holds memories for those who read them, but books are really about the literature!

A good book is like a waking dream you can relive over and over. It takes you and allows you to be someone else, or teaches you a moral, or relates with your inner being like no other human ever has!

One may pick up a specific book and look at it and say: "I read this when I was seven years old. I adored it because I felt like no one loved me, just like Mandy." or "Look at those ruined pages. I dropped this book in the bathtub when I used to spend hours in the bathroom reading."

A true lover of books, doesn't want them because they're rare, or they think they lend a feel of affluence. No, someone who loves books, loves them for the way they come into your life, and touch your mind in their own unique ways. They love them for the snapshot of time a book is, both in its story and in the way it says something about the past you.

Mostly, I was bothered by the title of this excerpt. Gilkey didn't really love books at all. If he did, he would be stealing them for the sake of reading them, not to abandon the poor things on a shelf to 'look good'.