Venice in February: Olivia Goes to Venice by Ian Falconer

by Carol6 Comments
Since I'm exploring Venice, at least from my armchair, this month, I thought I'd tag along with Olivia and her family  as they visit Venice for spring vacation. Olivia, for those of you who may not know, is an adorable, spunky precocious pig, who is a little worried about visiting Venice, after all it's full of water and who knows what the food is like. Her mom reassures her that she won't need a snorkel and that there's pizza and ice cream everywhere. And they do get to eat lots and lots of gelato while touring the city. They walk across the bridges and take a gondola ride. Olivia even feeds the pigeons in San Marco's tower. But finding just the right souvenir is a little difficult and destructive. I enjoyed the tour of Venice with this delightful family, but I found Olivia in turns amusing and annoying. She's a little  naughty, which leads to the funny moment toward the ends, without having...
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Flash Fiction: Ghost Magnet

by Carol3 Comments
"Ghost Magnet" "Ridiculous," I slam the book shut and toss it on the floor beside the couch.  Why do I insist on reading these ghost romances, I know better. Spirits never, in my experience, hang around because of love or devotion, to protect and comfort, like the handsome, kind young man in the story. He had loved his beautiful Iris too deeply to leave her. Now, obsession I would have bought, but not unselfish caring. Ghosts are nasty, at least the ones I've dealt with, needing revenge or "justice" or hopelessly reenacting a part they had played during their lives. I knew a man who stalked his wife for years after his funeral, not out of love but jealous of any rivals he saw moving into her life. One boyfriend he scared away by throwing things at him, including kitchen knives. Getting rid of them isn't as tough as you might think, though. It's keeping their attention and holding it that's usually...
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Thursday’s Tale: The Foolish Friend

by Carol5 Comments
I was thinking about concentrating on Italian folktales this month, in conjunction with Venice in February. First up is "The Foolish Friend" by Giovanni Francesco Straparola from The Facetious Nights, which was originally published between 1550 and 1553. The version I read, however, is from an English translation from 1901. The Facetious Nights tells the story of a 13-night party in the island of Murano, near Venice.  The revelers add to the entertainment by telling each other stories that vary from bawdy to fantastic. "The Foolish Friend" is the 4th tale on night 13. A grocer has a servant named Fortunio. On warm afternoons, the grocer takes a nap and it's Fortunio's job to keep the flies away. One day, however, there is a particularly nasty and insistent horsefly, and Fortunio decides to kill it. He picks up a heavy bronze pestle, and, when the fly lights on the grocer's temple, he swings at the fly with all his might, of...
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Reading Shakespeare: Venus and Adonis

by Carol7 Comments
It's the last day of January, so I wanted to squeeze in one more Shakespeare read before I move onto Venice in February hosted by Snow Feathers and Dolce Bellezza. I slogged my way through "Venus and Adonis." Maybe I should have read it aloud, maybe than I would have been more entranced by it's beauty, but as it is I just wanted to yell at Venus to move on. Venus, the goddess of love, sees Adonis and is smitten. He is apparently above all other men, even though he's actually little more than a boy. She drags him from his horse and wants to smother him with kisses and carreses, even though he's not interested. His horse runs off and he's upset. .............."For shame," he cries, "let go, and let me go; ..............My day's delight is past, my horse is gone, ..............And 'tis your fault I am bereft him so: ..............I pray you hence, and leave me here alone; ..............For all my mind, my thought, my...
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Reading Shakespeare: Sonnet 130

by Carol8 Comments
Sonnet CXXX by William Shakespeare My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red, than her lips red: If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound: I grant I never saw a goddess go, My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground: And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare, As any she belied with false compare. Ah, I like this one. The speaker manages to make fun of traditional comparisons by stating that no, in fact, his beloved's eyes are not like the sun, her skin is as white as snow, her hair is black, her lips are not as red as coral....
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