Best of the best

It's nice to see that the NY Times 10 best books of 2009 list includes four women out of five for fiction, and two out five for non-fiction. On other prominent best of 2009 lists, there has been a notable lack of women, as for instance, on the Publisher's Weekly list: ten out of ten men. And then the National Book Awards: four white guys. Now don't get me wrong, I have nothing against white guys. Some of my best friends are white guys. But come on, seriously.

Mysterious Ways

So I wandered into a nice bookshop I often pass by but only enter occasionally (The Mysterious Bookshop), and picked up a couple books (The Best American Mystery Stories of 2009, The Best American Crime Reporting, and The Zero by Jess Walter). A bearded gentleman who seemed to work there approached me to point out that crime reporting book was true crime. I said I knew, and couldn't wait to read it. He then said something about the books being "his," and when I appeared puzzled, he said he was Otto Penzler, pointing to the name on the books. Otto Penzler! Often have I seen the name; little did I know he was the mild-mannered owner of The Mysterious Bookshop.

We proceeded to have a chat about last year's Best American Mystery Stories, which is where I first read Elizabeth Strout, author of Olive Kitteredge. I also expressed my extreme eagerness to read the third Stieg Larsson book; apparently it won't be out until next spring in the US. However, there is an English translation available in the UK. As chance would have it, a certain husband is going to London next week--I must give him a special mission!

And then I came across Otto's name recently in the news. I'll look forward to seeing what he publishes in the future. Until then, I'll be stopping by 58 Warren St. for my mystery needs.

The House of Poets

Maybe the world is not ending after all, since there is a new Poets House downtown, a new Posman Books in Chelsea Market, and a new location for the Biography Bookshop, renamed Bookbook, at 266 Bleecker Street.

I'm eager to see the new Poets House, especially after reading the description of a card catalog repurposed as a poetry repository.  Bill Murray (yes, that Bill Murray) said at the grand opening that “Poets need a refuge — they need a hideout, a clubhouse.” I think people who like to read poetry need one, too. Or just like to read. Or just like to be surrounded by books.

But, um, not to be ungrateful or anything, is there a reason why it couldn't be named Poets' House, as in the house of poets, or the house belonging to poets? Is it just because so many people would misplace the apostrophe that it would be too taxing to correct incessantly? Or is it grammatically proper to call it Poets House, and I'm just being needlessly persnickety? Which is worse, Poet's House or Poets House?

Swedeheart

The Girl Who Played with Fire by Stieg Larsson

My rating: 5 of 5 stars Extremely satisfying. I gave it the five-star treatment because of the higher suspense than in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and also out of sheer overjoyment on finding out that there will be a third book! I had read this one with the knowledge that Larsson has passed away hanging over my head, thinking how sad that as soon as I finish this book there will be no more Lisbeth and Mikael for me. Then in the author bio at the end, glory be! The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets' Nest (Luftslottet som sprängdes)! It's almost worth learning Swedish. P.S. Swedish people drink a lot of coffee. I mean a lot. P.P.S. Great article re the Stieg Larsson phenomenon: http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/... Even if the author does misspell "Mikael." OK, Larsson verges on pedantry on occasion, but never makes me want to throw up like Dan Brown does. View all my reviews >>

Futureschlock

Gadvooks! Just what the world needs. I guess this is the kind of crap described in the Brooklyn Rail article I cited a few weeks ago.