jock librarian

Knowing that the R was going to be sporadic this weekend, I ambitiously packed three books for Saturday's commute to practice. I pored over Gabrielle Bell's wry, angst-ridden Lucky, a graphic novel chronicling her life as a young artist in Brooklyn. In one scene, she writes about her work in jewelry production: "It's an easy, painless, even pleasant job. But because I have to go to it everyday it is still a kind of jail to me, albeit a comfortable one. The wardens are thoughtful and trusting." Bell humorously continues, "In order to sustain us through mind-numbing jobs, it is necessary to tell ourselves lies, and mine is that if only I was surrounded by France, I would no longer feel perpetually ill at ease. Of course my knowledge of the country comes only from novels, music and movies, but worst of all, Proust. As far as I know, everyone in Paris spends their time gazing at flowers and searching their memories."

On the trip home, I read Joe Sacco's War's End: Profiles From Bosnia 1995-1996, a potent graphic novel about the Yugoslav War, and dipped into Kirsten Smith's young adult novel in verse, The Geography of Girlhood.