transvestite porcelain

[truepenny]

One more book-buying post, because heres_luck and I went to the neighborhood thrift store this morning, and I did not restrain myself as well as I ought.

(The title of this post comes from a porcelain figurine I noticed while waiting for h.l. to finish checking out. An androgynous but definitely butch figure holding a strapless ballgown up to its chest. Perhaps it's just that I have a filthy mind, but I cannot come up with an innocent interpretation.)


Aiken, Joan. The Shadow Guests. (I was talking about this one in some discussion a long time back, as the Joan Aiken I'd read and loved as a child but never been able to find since. So a definite score.)

Anthony, Patricia. Brother Termite.

Davis, Wade. The Serpent and the Rainbow.

Grealy, Lucy. Autobiography of a Face.

Jung, C. G. Four Archetypes: Mother/Rebirth/Spirit/Trickster.

Kipling, Rudyard. Just So Stories.

Murphy, Pat. The City, Not Long After.

Renault, Mary. The Persian Boy. (In hardback!)

Schreiber, Flora Rheta. Sybil. (Synchronicity in action.)

Sizemore, Chris Costner, and Elen Sain Pittillo. I'm Eve. (I'm interested in what I guess you might call the historiography of Disassociative Identity Disorder. Here beginneth the collection.)

Stevermer, Caroline. The Serpent's Egg. (Talk about things I was not expecting to see. V. pleased.)

Tryon, Thomas. The Other.


Right. I don't think I'm going to run out of things to read any time soon. Good, then.

Comments

[larryhammer]

I like to think I am from a mongoose family whose motto is "Run and find out," but somethimes I fear I am an Elephant's Child full of 'satiable curtiosity. (The latter involves more spankings.)

Just don't scoop me out of my shell with your paddy-paw, or I shall go Hmph! and stamp my foot and walk by my wild lone, for all places are alike to me, and then fill your skin (lying by the great grey green greasy Limpopo River, all set about with fever trees with stripy, speckly, patchy-blatchy shadows) with old, dry, stale, tickly cake-crumbs and some burned currants, O Best Belovéd. I had to!

---L.

[oracne.livejournal.com]

THE CITY, NOT LONG AFTER is my absolute super-duper number one favorite Pat Murphy book.

[lisajulie.livejournal.com]

/me bows in awed respect

[penmage.livejournal.com]

Oh, me too. I love that book so much. It's definitly time for me to hit up my library for a reread.

[oracne.livejournal.com]

Hee!

[coffeeandink.livejournal.com]

Right. I don't think I'm going to run out of things to read any time soon. Good, then.

I was not aware this was a pressing concern.

[truepenny.livejournal.com]

It's a psychological tic.

[larryhammer]

I see I missed the Tammy stories. Which is okay — I try to forget their existence in the first place.

---L.

[graygirl.livejournal.com]

Love Patricia Anthony. :)

[lalouve.livejournal.com]

Sybil is fascinating. I especially love the part where her personalities take turns holding down a boring job.