We need to talk about...

Yea! My essay is finished and will be printed tonight and handed in tomorrow. And then there will be four homework free months ahead, to read, and write, and hang out with Stuart. We are celebrating by going to the Library Bar at the Royal York Friday for posh martinis. I am looking forward to this weekend. What else, lots of Toronto fun, food and adventure on account of Stuart's mum visit. We went to the zoo on Friday and it was wonderful. I liked the butterfly house, and a gorilla who climbed right up to the viewing window, sat down and stared right into my eyes. It was an incredibly moment, and a bit frightening, but quite profound. And then the gorilla defecated, which sort of put a stop to all that but still. I also liked the flamingos.

I am now reading The Female of the Species by Lionel Shriver, who wrote We Need to Talk About Kevin, which you might know was the best book I read in 2005. The Female of the Species is Shriver's first book (I think) and like all her books before Kevin, not altogether successful. It started slow, and I resisted it for a chapter or two. But now I am enveloped and can't wait to get to the end. I also read For the Time Being by Annie Dillard, which exists more to be read than to be explained. But what she does with form is really quite incredible, and it's chock-a-block with stuff that should be known. The Jewish mysticism threw me a little bit, but then again it usually does.

My friend Sarah is off on her Siberian Adventure. The website hasn't been updated for a few days, and according to it, they haven't left yet. How does one update a blog from the Trans-Siberian Railroad? They are travelling by land from Japan to London, and I can't wait to travel along as a vicariate. In other news, as you probably know, Jane Jacobs has died, which means it's about time I read The Death and Life of America's Great Cities- and so I will. Camilla Gibb takes the Trillium Prize for Sweetness in the Belly, which just might be my favourite book of 2006. The Spears/Federlines are pregnant again, well according to US, but it will be exciting for them to have another child around the house to neglect. Curtis Sittenfeld didn't make the Orange Prize shortlist, thank goodness. I'm awfully fond of The Accidental by Ali Smith, but I like Hilary Mantel and Zadie S. too. Exciting!

Am disturbed by Flight 93. I saw the preview in the theatre a few weeks back, and it was so profoundly upsetting. I can't imagine sitting through the whole film. And I disagree with the woman whose daughter died on the flight that "The public needs to know, they need to remember and know what the families have gone through". I am sorry, but I don't think they do. To many people this film might exist as a memorial of sorts, celluloid proof the people they loved died for a reason, but there is something terribly self-indulgent about that. A film like this exploits our society's preoccupation with outward acts of mourning and our yearning for communal experience and connection. But it is such a shallow connection. And no amount of reenactment will really allow us to comprehend what happened that day; only distance can possibly provide for that, and some perspective.