I’m reading one book a day for as long as this COVID-19 quarantine lasts. Here are the ones I read this past week.

DAY 24: THE IDIOT

I re-read Elif Batuman’s acclaimed novel, The Idiot, because my friend had mentioned adding it to her Kindle—and by the end, wasn’t impressed. It’s not that I didn’t trust my own judgment from the first time around (spoiler alert, I, like so much of the world, enjoyed it); I simply had the urge to pick it up once more. The narrative is addicting, the characters captivating: every moment, no matter how banal, was crafted with wit and intention.

Needless to say, I couldn’t put it down until the last page.

DAY 24 (CONT’D): SEVERANCE

After four weeks of daily reading, it’s clear that my M.O. in choosing books as an adult is a cross between intuition, recognition, and cover art (superficial, but the truth). Severance had been sitting on my bookshelf since 2018—not long after the book was published—and not once was I prompted to pluck it off the top of my bookcase.

Had I read it then, it would have been another well-written book: finished, shelved, most likely forgotten. Reading it now, two years later, gave chilling context to Ling Ma’s apocalyptic satire. Who knew that nations across the world would be shut down by a pandemic? It’s the stuff of dystopian plot lines and fictional blockbusters, not reality.

It’s eerie. Including this:

“She blogs more as the city goes into hiding, plagued by the Shen fever…”

… as I write here regularly, more so than I have in years.

On a positive note, I all but squealed when I reached page 263. Is there anything as deeply affirming—and just plain cool—as seeing the brand you’ve been a part of (for nearly nine years!) printed in a book? Severance was most likely written around the time when Mario Badescu’s original, rose-infused Facial Spray skyrocketed to cult status despite existing for decades prior (it first launched in the 1980s). And there it was, on paper, its place within our culture cemented in black ink, living on despite the horrors of a worldwide pandemic, skin care still remains a priority.

Beauty endures.

DAY 25: CONVENIENCE STORE WOMAN

I bought Convenience Store Woman (by Sayaka Murata) at O’Hare International Airport before my flight back to Jersey. (I was in Chicago to film a series of training videos for Ulta.) After finishing Murakami’s Men Without Women on my flight in, I was in the headspace for something as poignant sans fuss—something Japanese writers accomplish with ease. This was brilliant in its simplicity, harrowing in its commentary on conformity. An easy and must-read.

DAY 26: ENIGMA VARIATIONS

I didn’t realize that Enigma Variations was written by the André Aciman of Call Me by Your Name fame until I was one chapter in. Even though I’d never read the book (I only saw the film), the haziness of lovelorn fixation conjured within the first few pages felt familiar: it’s indisputably Aciman and captures the messiness, confusion, and ephemera of love versus lust.

Oh! And I started incorporating a bit of ballet barre combinations into my morning routine. With all this reading, I’ve been buzzing with romantic ideologies—as in the arts!—and decided to revisit this childhood hobby of mine. Naturally, I needed the right shoes, and after much deliberation, settled on a pair of canvas ballet slippers by Bloch (maker of my favorite shoes since I was little, and still my go-to for salsa heels). They’re soft, almost astonishingly so. Delectable. Nothing like the rough canvas shoes I remember wearing to the studio 20-odd years ago.

DAY 27: LOVE AND FREINDSHIP, AND OTHER YOUTHFUL WRITINGS

This beautiful edition of Love and Freindship is a treasured gift from the same friend who didn’t care for The Idiot. (Hi, Miram!) She handed it to me the last time we saw each other—right before her birthday brunch—and I’ve been saving it for the perfect occasion to pour over. Predictably, Jane Austen is one of my favorite writers of all time; Pride and Prejudice was the first “adult” book I read and it is forever ingrained in my memory.

Through this collection of “juvenilia” (a word I’ve never come across until this edition’s introduction), the reader is able to witness a great writer in the making. She groomed herself to be an author, writing short stories while experimenting with a myriad of formats—all done between the ages of 12 and 20.

It’s astounding. And inspiring, to say the least.

DAY 28: EXQUISITE MARIPOSA

I’ve been following Fiona Duncan’s work for a couple of years, and when she announced that she’d written a book, I pre-ordered without hesitation. It’s exactly what you would expect from such a prolific writer. Exquisite Mariposa is raw, relevant, and clever sans conceit (I highly recommend reading this after Trick Mirror as a follow-up), full of pearls of wisdom:

“What I am that might come across as girly—being gentle, dressing in ruffles with exposed lace lingerie, luxuriating in pastel, giggles, grooming, and gossip—is actually rooted in great wisdom. It comes from a recognition that the power games that pass for intellect, strength, and import in this world are rote, wasteful, and ouroboran in their chase. Lonely, oppressive. Seriousness. No thanks. Life is short! And beautiful. […] Dry brushing your skin before showering enlivens the senses. Moisturizing too. And the great spiritualist Jean Vanier knew: The clearer we are to the body, the clearer we are to spirit…relationship is hand-to-hand, eye-to-eye…the Word became flesh, God became flesh.

I knew all this and still a part of me circa thirteen to twenty-eight judged others who acted girly in public…”

And, a personal note: how funny that the narrator’s Saturn Return affect such upheavals and search for more—more meaning, more realness—just as I’ve recently been fixated with mine. Just a few weeks before my birthday, a coworker had instructed me to read up on this astrological transit. Two consecutive days spent in a deep-dive made everything I’d been experiencing, thinking, trying to understand make sense. I’ve said it countless times, but books are magic, reflective tools for intuition. Truly.

DAY 28 (CONT’D): THE ROMANTIC MANIFESTO

Despite the outdated language, I used to live by the word of Ayn Rand’s The Romantic Manifesto. (Unsurprising, given how deeply connected with and took to Moulin Rouge as a kid.) My tiny copy has lived in many a handbag, mostly serving as a reminder to with truth and seek to create at every opportunity—a philosophy I too quickly abandoned after college in pursuit of a steady job and health insurance.

Re-reading this was just what I needed to cure all complacency.

DAY 29: THE LOVER

I’ve had this beautiful copy of Marguerite Duras’s best-selling autobiographical novel since college, but never read it until now. Classics are classic for a reason; let not its title or thinness have you think differently. The prose is indelible, the setting memorable. It reads best with a hot cup of black coffee or cappuccino, in lieu of a midday break spent mindlessly scrolling.

.   .   .

xx