Join me on a tour of my book closet … erm … library. Every week – or other week, or whenever I remember to write one of these posts – we’ll take a look at another whack of books I may (or may not) have read.

Time to take a look at a new shelf. How about … this one:

I call this one my “girly non-fiction” shelf. First up, a few biographies of iconic women. I was a tomboy who grew up into an awkward, geeky, painfully shy adolescent. I know you’re probably rolling your eyes right now, but I was the real deal. Check it:

To this day, I am still waiting for my ugly duckling phase to end. The rational part of my brain is willing to concede that it probably did happen at some point in my early 20s; it just happened too late for my emotional self-image to catch up. I will forever remain a gawky tomboy in my own mind, no matter how much mascara I pile on, or many pairs of Jimmy Choo shoes I own. And my inner tomboy is simply fascinated by beautiful women, who are basically a different species to me. The unconventional beauties (Edith Piaf, Wallis Simpson, Coco Chanel, Barbra Streisand) always interested me even more than the rest because they were proof that personal magnetism can trump society’s silly ideas about what constitutes attractiveness.

Anywaaaaay … the books. Finding a biography of Edith Piaf in English was a challenge, but this one is pretty good. I also enjoyed the film La Vie en Rose (featuring a tour de force performance by Marion Cotillard) but found it too … abbreviated. This biography fills in the gaps, and has a decent number of photos of all the main “characters” in Piaf’s life. Side note: am I the only person who likes to compare how fictional portrayals of famous people line up with their actual appearances?

The Duchess of Windsor: The Secret Life is light on the smutty details of Wallis Simpson’s life, which makes for a more fair and nuanced biography but also an occasionally dry read. But you know that I’m an incorrigible gossip, so take that with a spoonful of salt.

Chanel is a great biography of the legendary Coco, which doesn’t shy away from the less savoury aspects of her life; although the book more or less absolves her of being an actual Nazi collaborator, it makes it clear that she wasn’t entirely innocent of some well-timed opportunism. This biography is a must-read for any fashion lover, particularly anyone wont to worship Chanel.

Elizabeth is one of those perfect, gossipy celebrity biographies. (The author, J. Randy Taraborrelli has written a lot of these, including Jackie, Ethel, Joan: Women of Camelot, which I also enjoyed a lot.) No doubt, the subject matter helps in that regard; the incomparable Ms. Taylor lived a life that could easily rival any soap opera. The same might be said about Marilyn Monroe, but this biography gets bogged down in the more depressing details; it’s still a decent read, but more of a sombre than a fun one. (Side note: I did appreciate that it was written by a woman – too many of Marilyn’s biographers are men, and I think that is sometimes reflected in the way they approach the subject matter. Tangent: I really enjoyed Blonde by Joyce Carol Oates, which is a sort of biographical novel about Marilyn. Equal parts nutty and fantastic).

Barbra and Ava are oddly similar. One was supremely confident in her talent, but insecure about her looks, and the other vice versa. Both are/were pretty badass boss ladies – survivors in an industry that eats up and spits out beautiful women. I would recommend both of these biographies.

I haven’t read Close Up On Sunset Boulevard, but as the title suggests, it’s about the making of the Hollywood classic Sunset Boulevard. I used to be obsessed with stories about old Hollywood, so I imagine this would be right up my alley. Spellbound by Beauty certainly was. It looks at Alfred Hitchcock’s relationships (personal and professional) with his leading ladies, who included film icons like Ingrid Bergman, Joan Fontaine, Grace Kelly, and Marlene Dietrich. It’s a fascinating read, although Hitchcock comes across as something of a controlling jerk, which … may or may not have been the case. I don’t know, because I haven’t read any of his other biographies. But if he’s, like, your favourite director, and you’re invested in him also being a sweet teddy-bear of a guy, you might want to skip this book.

The Way She Looks Tonight takes a quick look at the lives of 5 icons of style: Empress Eugenie of France, Elinor Glyn, Marlene Dietrich, the Duchess of Windsor, and Jacqueline Kennedy. Marian Fowler has written a few other books I really enjoyed (In a Gilded Cage, and Hope: Adventures of a Diamond), and this is no exception: it’s a really fun, engrossing read. Each chapter serves more as a vignette of its subject, rather than a full-blown biography, but it provides a fair bit of detail about each woman’s style and relationship with fashion.

Audrey: Her Real Story belongs on the left side of the shelf, along with the other biographies. It’s a serviceable read – not too boring, not too gossipy. To be fair, the divine Ms. Hepburn didn’t live a life that contained much gossip fodder. Since the author was a man, there isn’t much discussion about her style, which I actually think would have added an interesting dimension to this book. After all, Audrey Hepburn might just be the greatest style icon of all time.

I’m a bit obsessed with the whole WASP/American Prep aesthetic and lifestyle, as only a complete outsider can be. I really wanted to get my hands on the classic Official Preppy Handbook, but it’s out of print, so I settled on True Prep. Written by the same authors as the Handbook, it’s an updated look at Muffy and her gang. It’s pretty funny, though I have a feeling the original might have been better.

Overdressed and Deluxe are my two must-read books about the fashion industry. If you read no other books from today’s post, read these two. Seriously. Overdressed: The Shocking High Price of Fast Fashion looks at the current fast fashion industry, and how it has fundamentally changed the way we shop and dress. It also looks at the impact of our new habits on the environment and the third world countries where our clothes are manufactured. I promise that if you read this book, your mall shopping experiences will never be the same again. Deluxe: How Luxury Lost Its Lustre does the same thing for luxury brands that Overdressed does for fast fashion: exposes its seedy underbelly. I promise that if you read this book, you will never look at Louis Vuitton/Prada/insert-high-end-designer-brand the same way again.

I thought the End of Fashion would be a book in the same vein as Deluxe, but it was somewhat of a disappointment. Its basic premise is that high fashion is now less about craftsmanship (couture being the exclusive domain of the hyper rich) and more about marketing (selling to the middle classes). Each chapter focuses on one or two designers, as case studies for this premise, but the whole book feels less than cohesive. It was an okay read, but nowhere near as interesting as Deluxe.

Beauty: The Twentieth Century looks at the history of women’s style, beauty, and make-up trends over the previous century. (Side note: it’s trippy to me that the 20th century is now the last century, and not just by a few years but by over a decade. Like, whoa. I feel extra old.) This book is like the InStyle version of a history book, or a historical version of InStyle (take your pick): a fun, summer read with lots of pretty pictures. I think it may be out of print, but you might still be able to find it at the library or in a secondhand bookstore.

Oof, that was a whale of a post! Congrats on making it this far … now tell me what you’re reading these days.

Join me on a tour of my book closet … erm … library. Every week – or other week, or whenever I remember to write one of these posts – we’ll take a look at another whack of books I may (or may not) have read.

Time to take a look at a new shelf. How about … this one:

But, first, a few words on organization. Years ago, when I was still knee high to a grasshopper (or, to be specific, 18), I started working at my university’s library. It was my one and only part-time job, and it was awesome. I spent most of my years there as a page (aka shelving grunt), but I came to be pretty well acquainted with the Dewey decimal system. Sadly, much like my undergraduate knowledge of cortical systems, it is now long gone from my working memory. So my books are organized in a somewhat haphazard way, mostly by genre. “Messy” is the best way to describe the result. I gave up keeping track of my books back when the total count hovered around the 400 mark, about 3-4 years ago. Honestly, I have only a vague idea of what comprises about 1/3 of my library. And I kinda like that. Surprise books are the best surprises.

Back to this week’s shelf. Here is the left half:

It starts off with a little bit of overflow from the adjacent shelf (fantasy/sci-fi). Shocking (?) confession time: I liked the Sookie Stackhouse books better than True Blood, Alex Skarsgard notwithstanding. The latter’s plot lines seemed weaker, in my opinion, although the show did gift us the awesomeness that is Stephen Moyer’s Southern accent. Sookeh!!! And, of course, ASkars eye candy. Ahem, I’ll skip talking about Charlaine Harris’ books for now, as they rightfully belong on a different shelf.

The remainder of the left side is taken up by historical fiction. First up, Stella Duffy’s two-part series about the Empress Theodora, Theodora and The Purple Shroud. Bonus fun fact: I decided to get these novels after my husband and I chose our boy/girl names for our then-fetus; there aren’t many famous Theodoras, so I figured it might be a good idea to learn more about the one who was kind of a big deal. I probably should have picked an actual biography, but I prioritized entertainment over actual learning. My impression is that these books give the general broad strokes of Theodora’s life, suitably embroidered for effect. She led an extremely interesting life, and that is an understatement; per book cover, she was “actress, empress, whore”. How’s that for a 3-word resume?

Next up, is a three-parter about one of my favourite historical figures, Catherine de’ Medici (Madame Serpent, The Italian Woman, and Queen Jezebel). Catherine was not a particularly lovable character, but she was fascinating and complex. Niece of a pope, wife of a king, mother to three more, regent in her own right, she was feared and reviled by her subjects – a powerful woman in an age when this was considered both an oxymoron and an abomination. Eleanor Hibbert wrote an enormous number of historical novels under the pen name Jean Plaidy, back in the 50s and 60s, but most of them have been out of print for years and she is not as well known these days – more’s the pity as her books are generally both well-written and well-researched, albeit very much PG-13 (kind of a feat given much of her subject matter). A few of them are now being released in new editions, and I would highly recommend them to fellow historical novel buffs.

(As an aside, my all-time favourite historical series – The Accursed Kings by Maurice Druon – is also finally being released in a new English translation. I first read these books when I was 10 or 11, and they were basically my Flowers in the Attic – slightly smutty, un-put-down-able, and generally entirely inappropriate material for that age. They’re now being marketed as “the original Game of Thrones” and, minus the dragons, they kind of are. If HBO decides to adapt them into a show, I will die and go to historical fiction heaven.)

Moving on to the right side of the shelf …

… the impromptu shelf divider is there to connote a shift to the non-fiction side. The Real Life Downton Abbey is … basically self-explanatory. It offers a look behind the doors of stately mansions during the Edwardian era, at the domestic life of the upstairs and downstairs folk. The book is fine, but nothing I hadn’t read before elsewhere. If you like the PBS show, and don’t know much about Edwardian England, this book may interest you; otherwise, it’s kind of a “meh”.

Four Queens is an excellent biography of the four daughters of Count Raymond Berenger of Provence, each of whom went on to marry men who were or became kings (some albeit briefly and/or mostly in name only). Their lives would have made for an awesome reality TV show, if television had existed in the 13th century. Or electricity. Keeping up with the Provences. I like it. And I like the book too.

Absolute Monarchs is a history of the papacy written by John Julius Norwich, whose books are always really, really good. This is no exception. I picked it up after reading Norwich’s book on the history of Venice (more on that in a minute), which featured a few papal interventions that piqued my interest (coincidentally, I was reading said book during the period when the most recent papal elections were held, so a nice bit of synergy there). I didn’t know very much about the popes, and this was an excellent primer. Fair warning: there have been a lot of them in the Catholic Church’s 2,000 year history, so you may get your Leo’s, Paul’s and John’s confused. No matter, it’s still a highly enjoyable read.

Speaking of popes, one you will probably have no trouble remembering is Pope Alexander VI, better known as Rodrigo Borgia. Christopher Hibbert’s The Borgias and Their Enemies is a good intro to one of history’s most infamous families. (OK, in case you’re wondering by now about what qualifies as a “good” non-fiction history book in my (100% amateur) opinion, it’s simple: it should be informative and well-researched whilst still reading like a novel as much as possible. I hate books that read like history textbooks. I also hate end notes.) Hibbert takes a non-sensational approach to what, in all fairness, is a pretty soap opera-ish story, so if you’re looking for something racier I’d suggest the TV show. I haven’t seen it, but I imagine it does for the Borgias what The Tudors did for Henry VIII (i.e. take a lot of liberties with the facts, and squeeze as many boobs as possible into an hour-long episode – literally and figuratively).

Nancy Mitford was a historical figure in her own right (more on that in another post) but she was also a writer, and she happened to write a book on one of my favourite French monarchs, Louis XIV, The Sun King. Louis’ story was pretty epic (for one thing, he reigned for a whopping 72 years during the zenith of France’s time as a military and artistic power), and this biography is more concise than sweeping, but it hits all of the high notes. For a more in-depth look at the Sun King, I would recommend Love and Louis XIV by Antonia Fraser (one of my favourite non-fiction historical writers); it focuses primarily on his private life, rather than the politics of the era, so keep that in mind. Of course, if you’re really short on time, there is always this.

Flora Fraser’s Princesses is a biography of the 6 daughters of George III who, despite being cooped up by their parents within the royal household for most of their lives managed to rack up an impressive list of scandals and intrigues. This is a must-read for anyone interested in the Georgian/pre-Victorian era, as it also touches on the princesses’ mostly disreputable brothers (two of whom went on to be kings of Britain, while a third fathered Queen Victoria).

I mentioned John Julius Norwich’ A History of Venice before, and I don’t have much to add except to recommend it (highly!) to anyone interested in this subject. It definitely meets my criteria for a “good” history book (see above), with the added bonus that it doesn’t get too bogged down in martial details. I like my warfare in easily digestible chunks.

Rubicon by Tom Holland is another excellent read, chronicling the Roman Republic from about 49 BC to its eventual transformation into an empire. It covers everyone who was anyone in Julius Caesar’s generation, which had no shortage of legendary figures (Cicero, Spartacus, Cleopatra, to name a few). It’s a tremendously enjoyable read, both due to the subject matter (Roman politics was riveting stuff) and Holland’s writing, which is top top notch.

Lastly, we have a book I haven’t read: Washington by Ron Chernow. I have to admit, I’m more of a European history junkie. Sorry, North America – your old timey scandals are just not as juicy. However, I believe in a fully-stocked library, so I never pass up on books that expand the scope of general knowledge represented on its shelves. Who knows when I might want to read up on America’s founding fathers?

Till next time … and don’t forget to tell me what you’re reading now!

Join me on a tour of my book closet … erm … library. Every week – or other week, or whenever I remember to write one of these posts – we’ll take a look at another whack of books I may (or may not) have read.

To recap, this is where we are:

Last time, I went over the left half of the shelf, so today it’s time to look at the right:

Finally! A book I have read: Absurdistan. And it is a really funny one, too. Here is the book description from Amazon (because I’m lazy and also the opposite of concise):

Meet Misha Vainberg, aka Snack Daddy, a 325-pound disaster of a human being, son of the 1,238th-richest man in Russia, proud holder of a degree in multicultural studies from Accidental College, USA (don’t even ask), and patriot of no country save the great City of New York. Poor Misha just wants to live in the South Bronx with his hot Latina girlfriend, but after his gangster father murders an Oklahoma businessman in Russia, all hopes of a U.S. visa are lost.
Salvation lies in the tiny, oil-rich nation of Absurdistan, where a crooked consular officer will sell Misha a Belgian passport. But after a civil war breaks out between two competing ethnic groups and a local warlord installs hapless Misha as minister of multicultural affairs, our hero soon finds himself covered in oil, fighting for his life, falling in love, and trying to figure out if a normal life is still possible in the twenty-first century.

More books I have read: Topics About Which I Know Nothing (not my personal memoir) and Making the Cat Laugh. Both excellent, funny reads. I recommend them, but I literally cannot remember anything about them … other than that they’re funny. Oh, and they’re both collections of short stories/articles, so you know that I’m not lying when I say they’re good because I have actually read them (and I don’t really do short stories).

Speaking of funny darkly satirical, next in line is American Psycho. I like it as a commentary on the vacuous 80s yuppie culture (currently reincarnated as this generation’s hipsters), but I think it goes off the rails towards the end. I haven’t seen the movie version, because I have a forever crush on Christian Bale, which is predicated on him being forever Laurie, and well … I like to keep it that way. Psycho Christian Bale does not exist in my universe.

Europe Central is a novel about the totalitarian regimes in Germany and the USSR in the 20th century; until recently, I was convinced it was non-fiction and had shelved it accordingly. When I went to read it, I realized it wasn’t, re-shelved it, and promptly forgot about it. I also forgot about What Was She Thinking (Notes on a Scandal), but I know I read it at some point. It’s about the unraveling of a woman’s life after she has an affair with one of her students. It was a so-so book for me; the movie version stars Dame Judi Dench and Cate Blanchett, so you can always go that route instead, and save a bit of time.

Sometimes, I get a little ambitious with my book selections, and I end up with a book intended for someone far more cerebral than me. The Savage Detectives is one example of that. Ten years ago, when I had a lot more time on my hands, and fancied myself a deep thinker, this book would have been right up my alley. Sadly, that time is gone and the book remains unread. Here’s to hoping that I have a renaissance of sorts in my golden years.

I bought The Black Book because the description on the cover made it sound to be somewhat in the vein of Carlos Ruiz Zafon’s The Shadow of the Wind. It might be, and it might not. I have no idea, because I still haven’t read it. Amazon describes it as a “brilliantly unconventional mystery” and a “cherished cult novel” (for Turkish literary readers), so by rights it should be on my reading list; but, like I said, my current reading habits are far more low-brow than they used to be, and a potentially good book deserves more than my woeful, gnat-like attention span. (I blame my intellectual decline on the kids, in case you were wondering. Because I can.)

I Capture the Castle is what I would call “classic chick lit (that I would actually read)” – and, keep in mind, I abhor chick lit. It is a classic, and a beautifully-written one at that. Bonus fun fact #1: the same author also wrote 101 Dalmatians. Bonus fun fact #2: the movie version of ICtC is pretty good and, importantly, stars a young Henry Cavill (post-The Count of Monte Cristo but pre-The Tudors). I am 95% certain that there is a shirtless scene. I will say no more. You need to watch it.

Speaking of chick lit that’s not awful, I really enjoyed Le Divorce (the book and the movie). For some reason, I own L’Affaire instead. Which is “meh”. A half-hearted “meh” at that. Same deal with Nightingale Wood; Stella Gibbons wrote Cold Comfort Farm, which is a wonderfully witty book, and was made into an equally wonderful movie (I will never not swoon for Cousin Seth, aka Rufus Sewell), and was the book I should have bought. I thought Nightingale Wood would be in the same vein, and it kind of is, but it’s not as good. Sigh.

And that, my friends, is it for this shelf.

Le fin.

(But only until next time.)