Well what's to be done I'll go away askance into the 16th century through the quotes over here
Delightful surprise of the week: visiting the brick-and-mortar office of Červená Barva Press in the basement of the Somerville Armory and discovering that not only do they sell their own books, like the chapbook of Aleksei Kruchonykh's libretto for the Futurist opera Victory Over the Sun (1913, trans. Larissa Shmailo 1980/2014) I had originally contacted the publisher about, they are a really lovely tiny used book store. My mother left with Gene Stratton-Porter's The Harvester (1911), Inez Haynes Irwin's Maida's Little School (1926), and Frances Hodgson Burnett's Robin (1922), all first editions—jacketless, but in otherwise quite respectable condition; the first two are books from her childhood and the third neither of us had ever heard of, so fingers crossed it's not terrible. I walked out with Barbara Helfgott Hyett's In Evidence: Poems of the Liberation of Nazi Concentration Camps (1986) and the Signet paperback of Mickey Spillane's Kiss Me, Deadly (1952), which I did not buy solely for its cover, but you must admit it helps. I am enjoying Victory Over the Sun.
skygiants showed me the first three episodes of Underground (2016–) last night and I want a soundtrack album. I have returned unhappily to a state of not so much sleeping, but being awake is always better with good art.

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There were several in my grandparents' house when I was growing up, but the only one I really remember is Maida's Little Theater (1946), because they staged a production of The Tempest. I read it years before I ever saw the play; now I want to see what I think of their interpretation.
We also had one of her adult novels, The Happy Years, I think.
How was it? I've never read any of her adult novels, even Angel Island. (I'll change that whenever I find a copy in print.)
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It's the sort of book I remember a lot of little snippets from (e.g., something about a black and silver outfit, with silver slippers -- "I'm so glad you didn't get black" -- having cut steel buckles -- "I'm crazy about cut steel"), but not that much about what actually happens.
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That sounds peculiar enought I might have to check it out. Thank you!
It's the sort of book I remember a lot of little snippets from (e.g., something about a black and silver outfit, with silver slippers -- "I'm so glad you didn't get black" -- having cut steel buckles -- "I'm crazy about cut steel"), but not that much about what actually happens.
That's fair. I believe I have books like that.
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My mother's been looking for that one for years. (It came up in conversation as soon as I spotted The Harvester, which was the only Stratton-Porter on view.) I don't think I've read it, but I don't feel I can totally rule it out, either.
(No, seriously. The hero goes after tomatoes the way a zombie goes after brains. I suppose it is the vitamin C.)
Homegrown tomatoes that actually taste like something are really good!
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And yeah, I love tomatoes, but it really is special how he goes after them. GSP has a lot of almost comically sensuous passages.