A Wonderful Book You Might Not Have Heard Of

There are good books and there are great books and there may be a book that is something still more: it is the book of your life. If you’re quite lucky, you may at some point chance upon a novel which inspires so close a kinship that questions of evaluation (Is this book better than merely good? Is it some sort of classic?) become a niggling irrelevance. Luck has everything to do with it. For the sensation I’m describing has its roots in a poignant, tantalizing feeling that this marvelous new addition to your existence, this indelible Presence, has arrived by serendipity. Anyone who cares seriously about fiction eventually will get around to The Brothers Karamazov orMadame Bovary or Pride and Prejudice or Moby-Dick or Don Quixote, and if you’re somebody whose closest literary attachment is to a book of this staple sort, the satisfaction you take from it will not be graced by the particular haunted feeling of good fortune I’m talking about; you will have, instead, the assurance of knowing that your keenest literary pleasures were preordained. One looks differently on the book of genius that, even in a long bookworm’s life, one might never have stumbled upon.

This is from Brad Leithauser's introduction to Independent People by Halldor Laxness.  Ive been meaning to recommend a few books people might not have heard of (and to elicit recommendations for books I might not have heard of). 

Like Leithauser, I picked up Independent People by accident, though not, as he did, on a hiking trip through Iceland. No, more prosaically, I picked up the book at a library sale. I had never heard of it. I was enticed by the publisher (Vintage Books) and the remark by Jane Smiley on the cover: I love this book. It is an unfolding wonder of artistic vision and skill--one of the best books of the twentieth century. I cannot imagine any greater delight than coming to Independent People for the first time. 

While you are reading it, you might wonder what makes it so great. It took me a while. Often, I felt like I was trudging through this long book, much as the main character trudges through life. All will become clear on the last page.

 An interesting sidenote: The novelist Ann Patchett opened a bookstore in Nashville. 

In an Atlantic article, she mentioned that she did not like the name--Parnassus Books--suggested by her partner-to-be. She had always fantasized about owning a bookstore called Independent People--"after the great Halldor Laxness novel about Iceland and sheep." 

Well, in honor of Patchett, I'm not going to link to Amazon! Buy it from an independent bookstore or do the frugal thing and check it out of the library. My library doesn't own a copy, but they would buy one if I requested it. I really should as a service to other readers in my area. 

Do you know of any books you might never have heard of?

Farewell to Thredup and Others

Thank heavens my semester is starting up soon! I want to return to thinking about the beauty of literature and how best to convey it...

Meanwhile...

Last spring, I wrote some positive things about the new and newish resale sites. I even have another positive post that I never got around to publishing.

Just as well: the bloom is off the rose. Twice has been purchased by Ebay. Luckily, I had used my credit, but I witnessed a mad scramble among those with credits to use up.

Tradesy has gotten very expensive. Most of the items seem to be listed by professional resellers with access to outlet stores. I have no problem with that, but the prices are generally high.

Thredup: The worst for last? The site announced a lowering of prices last spring. As far as I can tell, the brand I like--Eileen Fisher--is about 50% HIGHER than it was last spring. I did buy one thing recently though: skirted leggings. I paid the $6.00 shipping fee on top of the listed price.

The thing is: I ALWAYS wear an S in Eileen Fisher. The item I bought was listed as an S. It is an EXTRA SMALL PETITE. That's two mistakes. I am probably not going to return and pay the ridiculous restocking fee. So look for these on ebay one of these days..

I emailed and await their response. I expect the typical customer service: you are welcome to return for credit blahblahblah. But I doubt I will order from them again. In fact, like the Swedes in Beowulf I have a long memory. So I will add Thredup to the list of brands and stores that I don't buy from. 

I think this is a message from the universe to USE WHAT I HAVE. OK. I'll try to listen.

Have you used (as seller or buyer) any of these resale sites? Have you had any excellent experiences?

Eileen Fisher Washable Crepe Pants Still Cheap at $58

UGH. Hate to keep posting about this stuff. In fact, I was going to post on either "Most Frugal Recipe EVER" or an interesting exhibit I saw in Berlin this summer ("The Lost Museum") or some of the books I've been reading.

However, lots of people thanked me for posting on the EF pants for $40 and then an anonymous commenter (thank you!) mentioned that sizes were restocked (it's true), so here's a reminder. These are the best pants EVER. Even worth it at the higher price of $58. Two summers ago, I wore them almost every day on a 6 week trip. This past summer, the honors went to the EF harem pants.

Anyway, I'm hoping all the money people save on these pants will be deposited into my KARMIC SAVINGS ACCOUNT. I'll report back when I get my karmic bank statement.

Here's the Neiman Marcus link once again (and remember, if you call Nordstrom, they will price match, and then you get their superior customer service).

Eileen Fisher Washable Crepe Pants only $40.60!!!

All the bloggers rave about these pants. I do too. They retail for over $150! But I am loath to spend so much on pants, even though they do provide a good cost per wear ratio.

As a frugal person, I check sites regularly--both new and used--scouting for sales. Since I only look at Eileen Fisher, it is not hugely time-consuming.

I just took my twice a year look at Neiman Marcus and there are the pants for $40.60!!! As I write, all sizes are available.

I actually called Nordstrom and had them price match. You can do that too.

This will be my third pair of these. My first was price matched two or three years ago and worn to death (they are still alive!). My second was from Tradesy and so--slightly used to begin with.

Free shipping and returns at both sites.

Why Keep Working?

The Great Recession knocked down the stock portion of my retirement accounts by almost 50% and led to the firing of the three tenured French teachers. In a panic, I discovered the Firecalc site (Financial Independence/Retire Early??) and learned from their easy to use calculator that even with my much-diminished accounts and even if both Mr FS and I  were let go because our program was eliminated, we WOULD NOT END UP DEAD in the STREETS. We would have a very, very, very  humble retirement, to be sure, but we would NOT DIE in some Dickensian institution for the impoverished.

That comforted me. Fast forward, and--though no raises in all that time--we are still working and our equity portions have, as they say, recovered. Also we now have a combined age of 124, rather than a combined age of 110. Our life expectancy has--perforce--gone down. So a fairly humble retirement probably looms, but not as humble as it looked in 2008-09.

The people who post on Firecalc are either eager to retire ASAP or ecstatic to have done so. Many seem to be or have been highly paid folks in IT, engineering, and so on. Some even had a stock option windfall. WORK is a dirty word on the site and is humorously typed as w*rk.

Then, while goofing around recently, I read some blogs that I don't usually visit. A common theme was  the lack of structure and meaning in retirement. And that is precisely why I keep working: not just because of the structure and meaning (teaching is meaningful work however you slice it), but because of the goofing around.

I should mention that because of serious budget issues (Great Recession again), there are no classes on Friday--to save on energy. Hence our schedule. We teach two VERY LONG DAYS a week, and can then do the rest of our work at home. And, since we don't teach in the summer (we are FRUGAL), we have a lot of flexibility there too. I think if we were working 50 weeks a year, 5 days a week, I would be longing to retire.

Another thing: teaching is like a mortgage. When I began, I was always in a panic. I would read twenty articles to figure out how to teach a little sonnet. Now I know how to teach many, many things. And teaching new things is not an occasion for so much anxiety. The time I spent in preparation a long time ago has "paid off" after all these years.

So why keep working? If I retired, I would have to find meaningful pastimes. Every day. I would goof around too much. I would feel guilty.

As it is, the meaning and purpose are taken care of by my job. In between tasks, I can goof around without (too much) guilt. I can even write a blog post. 

My First Trip to Hermes: What I Wore

Sooooooo, after our rejection at the Louvre, we were walking along, taking in the chic passersby and the beautiful windows. There we were on rue de Sevres. Where there is a Hermes (or AN Hermes, if I pronounce properly).

The window was unimpressive, featuring terrazzo tile (?) with keys and other objects embedded in it, but right near the door there was a table with brochures for a design event: for a week in June a number of shops participate in "7 Jours" of Design. I went to pick up a brochure.

The elegant doorman swept open the door and we were swept in. Oops! Well, I've always wanted to see the decor because that particular shop was built on the former site of a hotel swimming pool.

We walked around. Then the scarf lady gestured that I should come over. OK. I looked at a few scarves, but said I needed to wait for my daughter's opinion (which is true; she is always right).

This is what I was wearing: a cardigan (which I had taken off because it was hot), a tank top, dusty sandals, and my Eileen Fisher harem pants (the only remotely nice thing I had on). Oh yeah: my accessories. A junky scarf (how embarrassing!) and a tiny stained Vera Bradley purse that had been discarded by Miss Em in junior high (I use it as a wallet when I travel).

Mr FS looked about the same.

We were more scruffy than usual because we were wearing some of the clothes we had flown in--the day before. We had yet to get some duds to tide us over while waiting for our delayed luggage.

Even so, the scarf lady was charming and welcoming.

I must say I was relieved by the whole experience. I find the scarves absolutely gorgeous, but otherwise, I was not filled with desire for the merchandise. Phew!

Miss Em came to visit two weeks later. She didn't want to help me pick out a scarf at Hermes, but she did help me pick one at Monoprix. Maybe next year.

First day in Paris: Mean Girl

My first full day in Paris began....miserably. Air France had lost our luggage and we hadn't yet gotten around to a Monoprix to get some needed items. We felt disheveled and dusty, more scruffy than usual. To cheer ourselves up, we decided to go to the Louvre: 2 weeks remained on the year membership we bought the previous year.

We were both pretty crabby because of jet-lag and so, a bit of miscommunication ensued. When we arrived, we only had Mr FS's card. We went to the office and Mr FS explained in French what had happened. 

And then we encountered our first bonafide French mean girl. She said that she couldn't look up the card. We explained that the previous year, Mr FS had LOST his card and the rep looked it up and replaced it. 

The rep said that was the procedure for lost cards. Forgotten cards were different. 

(?????)

Then the mean girl line. The rep said (this was all in French and even I could understand it!): "There's one way you can get into the Louvre today." LONG PAUSE. We looked hopeful. "Buy a ticket at the booth!" I swear she cackled. We got up to leave and didn't say anything. 

I think she was a bit embarrassed by her performance because she smiled rather sheepishly as we left.

We decided to walk around after that and somehow ended up in Hermes. No kidding.

P.S. Thanks to all for comments while we were away. My electronic devices were ill-performing and had teeny keyboards. So i could READ the comments even though I couldn't respond. Merci beaucoup!