Just finished Geraldine Brooks’ Pulitzer Prize-winning novel March, which is narrated mostly from the point of view of Mr. March – the absent father of Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women – with a few chapters from the point of view of Mrs. March, a.k.a. Marmee. It has been a while since I’ve read any Civil War-era historical fiction, and longer still since I read Little Women (fourteen years or so). This behind-the-scenes take (a la Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead) was wholly absorbing and powerfully real. On finishing, I had the same thought that I had after I saw Tracy Letts’ play August: Osage County – oh, so THAT’S how you win a Pulitzer.
I can’t write like that, but in the “lesser achievement” category, my windowsill garden is doing quite well, and there have been some new additions of late.
Left to right: thermos plant, coffeemaker plant, rosemary, amaryllis, aloe plant.
The rosemary I acquired at the farmer’s market at Union Square last week; the amaryllis was a gift from my great aunt.
And the aloe plant just does its own thing.
What I’m reading: Catching Fire, Suzanne Collins
What I’m listening to: Goldfly and Keep It Together, Guster