i am midway through american gods by neil gaiman. i brought to the states as alternative in-flight entertainment. i realised that meal times, movies and trying to catch some sleep doesn’t leave you much time for reading. but its always good to have a book in hand, for me it is at least.

extracts from american gods that i can totally identify with.

it was a dream, and in dreams you have no choices: either there are no decisions to be made, or they were made for you long before even the dream began. (303)

now it was late in the afternoon. shadow, who had no been in san francisco since he was a boy, who had only seen it since then as a background to movies, was astonished at how familiar it was, how colorful and unique the wooden houses, how steep the hills, how very much it didn’t feel like anywhere else. (305)

oh yes, how steep the hills indeed!

in my less then extensive width of reading, i seem to have come across more analysis and celebration of sisterly relationship then brotherly ones.

my sister’s keeper is of course about the relationship between a sick sister and a life-giving one, but other than that, there are two other pairs of sister relationships that are painted so vividly in the novel that it could reflect any one of us.

the other book i’ve read about the love-hate, bitter-sweet relationship between sisters is a short history of tractors in ukrainian by marina lewycka.

within the same family, the dynamics of misunderstandings, idiosyncrasies and pms are rife in sister-sister relationships in a way that does not exist between brothers or brother-sister relationships.

on a macro scale, there is a solidarity between women that cuts across cultures, religion and age. i believe that it partially stems from the history – and in some cases, reality – of marginalized womenfolk in many societies. and partially from the common painful and binding experience of menstruation and childbirth, and of course the much debated role of the woman at home, in the workforce and in her dealings with man.

capable of both sensitivity and brutality, when push comes to shove, women will come through for each other.

i only see my sister suzanne once or twice a year. she lives less than an hour and several thousand philosophical convictions away.

- my sister’s keeper

Some who fell in love with lack of order

And liked the random weather, were made angry,

Accused the planners thus “It is not brick

Only you set upright and scaffolding

And the roof bending at a perfect angle

But all our love you end in measurements,

Construct a mood for any moment, teach

Passion to move in inches not by chance.”

And swarming from the forest to new houses

They chipped the walls a little, left footmarks

Across the thresholds, would not scan each other

By clock or compass, terrified the silence

With rough words that had never been though out.

And builders, poets fell upon them, saw

A just order for their alteration,

Would turn the conversation into music

Tidy the house and from the lovers’ quarrel

Shape a whole scene with middle, end, beginning,

Never be wearied of the straightening out

Though would not recognize they fell in love

Most deeply at the centre of diaster

- The Planners

By Elizabeth Jennings

“every touching is a kind of kiss”

- He Sits Down On The Floor Of A School For The Retarded

By Alden Nowlan

Lettuce Marry

Do you carrot all for me?
My heart beets for you,
With your turnip nose
And your radish face.
You are a peach.
If we cantaloupe
Lettuce marry;
Weed make a swell pear.

Anon