Spotted: A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

Where: L-train

Who was reading: A bottle blond in a black skirt, red tights, black legwarmers and red plaid scarf. Also white fingerless gloves.

Finally! An answer to the age-old riddle of what’s black, white and red all over.

Digital reading device: Nook.

If this device were a Dickens character… It would be the ghost of Christmas past. So last year, amirite? Although the Sony E-reader is even more passé, I don’t think anyone ever gave or received one of those for Christmas, so it would have to be the ghost of something else old.

Avast ye bookish sea-dogs! Weigh your anchors at The Fatal Shore by Robert Hughes

Where: R-train
Who was reading: A tall blonde man on the precipice of male pattern baldness. 
Multi-media! His earbud cords disappeared into the neck of his jacket, and peeked out from the bottom, snaking into a pocket. 
What was he listening to? Based on his interest in Australia it was definitely either Crayon Fields or Kylie Minogue.
According to this really oddly formatted review on the Brown University Website: "Hughes's book was written as a response to a variety of Australian “founding myths”,  all aimed at erasing the (convict) Stain. Hughes dissects these arguments in masterly fashion, marshaling a combination of facts and his singularly elegant rhetorical style. He has no patience for a polite revisionism of the nation's founding . . . and lambasts those who would try to sugar-coat the country's origins."
Don't you just love... nonfiction born of bilious academic quarrels?

Spotted: The Sky Is Everywhere by Jandy Nelson

Where: R-train
Who was reading: A young asian woman in a long white coat, beaming infectiously.
The more I look around... the more I see people smiling on the train. It's weird, because I've learned to expect glassy-eyed stares and miserable "I'm-barely-tolerating-this" sort of expressions from my fellow straphangers. Perhaps those who read have well and truly shrugged off the drudgerous spirit that hangs so heavy over the subway. Hooray for books!
Ridiculously simplified synopsis (via Shelfari): "Girl looses her brother to death and she and her dead sisters boyfriend don't know how to deal with the grief [sic]."
Ha-ha, "looses her brother to death?" But actually it does sound pretty good. Here's a sampling of the reviews:

• "A must read."—Girls Life Magazine
• "Unusually rich with both insight and breathless romance." —The LA Times
• "This well-intentioned story about love and loss too often gets tangled in its own emo." —Kirkus Reviews
• "Funky and fun." —Romantic Times

Is it just me... Or does Romantic Times seem to have reviewed a different book altogether?

Spotted: How To Start And Run Your Own Corporation by Peter I. Hupalo

Where: N-train

Who was reading: A man who looked to be in his mid-30s with one large hoop earring, brown boat-like shoes, and fields of stubble. He wore a faded corduroy jacket and toted a lumpy backpack.

His eyes kept fluttering shut... Every now and then he'd give a start and snap them open, rubbing his thumbs over the eyelids as though to massage out the exhaustion, but eventually he set aside the book and nodded off. It was 8:30 p.m.

Now I'm not a doctor. And I'm no expert in starting and running your own corporation either. But I do know this is ain't the way, sonn; quitters never succeed . . . unless they have rich parents.

More secrets to success: 1. Substitute the backpack with a slick angular briefcase. 2. Never admit to reading a library book, it makes you look poor.

Spotted: Strange Battles of the Civil War by Webb Garrison Jr.

Where: Southwest flight 1684 from DEN to PDX.
Who was reading: A hirsute gentleman with a large rounded belly straining against purple suspenders.
When asked what he was reading: The man blushed and in a reserved Texas drawl, he mumbled "Oh, just some trash."
Don't look an honorary "horse" in the mouth. This little book contains some way cool facts. For example, on October 29, 1863, "union mules stampede Confederate troops at Wauhatchie, Tennessee, and the Federal quartermaster recommends they be brevated to the rank of 'horse.'" (via Amazon). 
Giddyup! Maybe this means my petition to be promoted to cyborg actually stands a chance.
Supplementary reading: He also had copy of Sports Afield—a magazine on big game hunting—which led to an intriguing dialogue on animal attacks.
If ever you should happen upon an angered Cape Buffalo in the wild, beware! "They look at you like you owe them money." said the man.

Spotted: Jewish Mysticism: An Introduction to the Kabbalah by J. Abelson

Where: R-train
Who was reading: A twenty-something guy with lively, flickering eyes, wearing a voluminous black coat and skinny, skinny jeans. He stood alert and was kind enough to give directions to some strangers who were unfamiliar with the South Slope area of Brooklyn. Actually, the skinniness of his jeans made me wonder how familiar he was with South Slope himself.
Was his interest in Kabbalah spiritual or academic? This is what I found myself contemplating as I observed him. I'd put my money on 'academic', but who knows? It's rarely safe to make assumptions when it comes to religion.
Even more importantly, would he date a goy? Next time I'll be sure to ask.

Spotted: Holidays on Ice by David Sedaris

Where: N-train
Who was reading: A young man in a houndstooth scarf and beat-up Chuck Taylors. The laces on his right shoe were so threadbare they were as skinny as headphone cords.
Speaking of Chucks: I just watched this video, and it is so creepy! But I can't put my finger on why. Is the slow, deliberate pace? The knife? The softly undulating shadows? The heavy breathing? And what is the filmmaker trying to say exactly?
The book contains: Sedaris shorts both new and old, jumbled together and wrapped up in shiny holiday packaging, not unlike terrible chocolates in an advent calendar. 
One story, entitled "Dinah, the Christmas Whore": calls to mind this now defunct (I think?) blog. But the resemblance doesn't really carry beyond the title.

Sci-fi/Fantasy Fridays: The Island of Dr. Moreau by H.G. Wells

Where: N-train

Digital reading device: Motorola smart-phone with chipped orange paint.

Who was reading: A 30-ish woman with frizzy hair, clad in a floor-length brown coat that had something of a bronze sheen.

If she were a fantasy character... she would be the keeper of a prestigious unicorn stable. The daughters and sons of the aristocracy would come from miles around to take exorbitantly priced riding lessons, and if she were particularly savvy, she might also run a side-business in carved horn drug paraphernalia.
Published in 1896: (an anagram of the year of my birth!) this is the tale of Edward Pendrick, a ship wreckee who finds himself stranded on a sinister little isle in which the eponymous villain, Dr. Moreau, creates monstrosities out of living creatures.
Fun Fact: The British Union for the Abolition of Vivisection (BUAV) was formed 2 years after the publication of this novel. BUAV remains active to this day as a strong proponent for the ethical treatment of animals.

Awl Aboard!

Here's a topical post from this morning's The Awl.

Flipping through Mein Kampf in public takes some temerity, though I guess one might interpret the reader's interest as academic. I wonder if it's even possible to come up with a credible, intellectual-ish excuse for reading a trashy romance. Nothing springs to mind.

Spotted: The Natural Disorder of Things by Andrea Canobbio

Just how hard is it to spot "the natural disorder of things?" Piece of cake—especially when it comes to the MTA at rush hour.

Where: Q-train

Who was reading: A gray haired man wearing, among other things, a brown pair of sneakers.

How many of my coworkers own the exact same kind of sneakers? Two that I know of.
Coincidence? Not likely! Says coworker #1: "I was looking to buy a new pair of sneakers when I saw [coworker #2] with this cool pair. So I was like, 'Hey man, those are some sick shoes!' And he was like 'Thanks bro, I know, right?' And I was all, 'Are they waterproof? and he was like "You know it!' and we hi-fived. Afterwards, I made haste to procure a pair for myself."
Is that an actual quote or did you just make it up? Impertinent questions will be answered at the author's discretion in the Comments section following this post.
Back to the book: "Intelligently engrossing." writes the LA Times, "Comes to a breakneck, virtually cinematic conclusion that knots all the plot's threads into a convincing, though shockingly unexpected, dramatic conclusion, giving way to a reflection too bittersweetly true to reveal."
Not to get all meta . . . but I totally don't see that happening with this post. <frowning face>

Double-Take: The Girl Who Played with Fire—spotted again!

Where: Q-train
Who was reading: A 60-70 year-old woman with Maria Von Trapp hair and a periwinkle cable-knit sweater.
Although she was within spitting-distance of the end, she stretched out every page like a delicious dessert you don't ever want to finish.
Me and my best friend did the exact same thing with pudding cups . . . when we used to go over to my Grandma's house after school (grad school, obviously). Whoever finished last would lord his/her remaining pudding over the other like a smug little tyrant. 
From the back of the book: "21 MILLION STIEG LARSSON NOVELS SOLD WORLDWIDE"
But doesn't this statement become inaccurate the moment you print/sell more books? Why yes it does, and given the rate at which these Stieg Larsson books are selling, the cover copy probably lost its veracity before this edition even hit the shelves. 
You hear that, Publishing Industry? This is why people are always accusing you of being shortsighted!

Spotted: The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver

Where: D.C. metro, Red line

Who was reading: A young woman in an overcoat and a teal scarf.

Did she look kind of like Kaki King , the virtuoso guitarist? A little bit! How did you know?

Lucky guess. Tell me about the book: So apparently it's the story of a dude just sort of tumbling around North America in the 1930s, '40s, and '50s, just kind of going wherever the wind takes him. Tumble tumble.

It's actually more complicated than that: Okay, okay. Frida Kahlo and Leon Trotsky are involved somehow.

Could Trotsky look any more like an affected undergraduate in this picture? Ha ha! In Defense of Marxism? More like In Defense of Being a Tool.

Spotted: Bad to the Bone (Disney's Doug: The Funnie Mysteries #6) by Daniel Campbell, Kimberly Campbell, and Ray DeSilva

Where: D-Train

Who was reading: A tween-age girl with elaborate rubberized headband. 

Product Description (via Amazon ): "One minute Roger is his usual nasty self, the next he's carrying Beebe's books and opening the door for Ms. Kristal. Can Doug find out what's going on?"

Unlike Doug, this "reader" may never find out. . . She was using the book as a hard-surface upon which to complete a word-search.

Bonus points: Library Book!

Dear valued reader

First of all, I must apologize for the lack of posts over the weekend. Life gets chaotic, you know? And moving apartments in the winter is almost always a bad idea. Anyway, from now on I'll only be posting during the week, except in emergencies—like if I see someone reading Anthony Trollope (swoon!). But between monday and friday you can still expect to see daily updates.

Second, a belated thank you to NPR's Monkeysee blog —particularly Linda Holmes of Morning Shots— for the lovely, lovely write-up of The Book Spy last week. Those who know my super-secret identity may also know that I'm a die-hard NPR fan. In fact, my clock radio is set to play two solid hours of WNYC every single morning. The fact that someone from an organization I admire so much would take notice of my fledgling blog made me feel like a total rock-star. So thank you Linda, thank you NPR and thank you readers. It's delightful to know that I'm not alone in my voyeuristic curiosity about what other people are reading.

Fantasy Fridays: King of the Murgos by David Eddings

Where: D-train
Who was reading: A petite woman in a purple puffy coat and purple striped hat, she stood with her head bent over the book, as if in prayer.
If she were a fantasy character: She would be a quietly religious elf. Sort of like Simon in Lord of the Flies, only much elf-ier.
An international bestseller:  King of the Murgos is book II in the epically epic Malloreon series. The Malloreon books actually follow Eddings' Belgariad series in which an Arthur-esque young lad named Garion single-handedly defeats the evil God Torak. In Malloreon, a non-evil replacement God must be found. 
I'd apply for the position . . . if my current job didn't offer such excellent vacation time.
According to David Pomerico, Assistant Editor at Del Rey: "David Eddings' Pawn of Prophecy was the first novel I ever read, and he's the reason I'm doing what I do today." 

Is it hot in here or is someone reading Firefighter's Doorstep Baby by Barbara McMahon?

Where: Q-train
Who was reading: A vertically challenged woman who was jacketed in leather and hatted in canvas.
In a Nutshell: Firefighter's Doorstep Baby chronicles the adventures of Cristiano, a flame-dousing hunk with an injury that's thrown him out of the action—but not for long. His lake-side convalescence takes a turn for the titillating when he meets sassy singleton Mariella and her infernally cute baby Dante.
Not to be confused with Firefighter's Doorstop Baby. . . in which a neglectful couple uses their baby to prop various doors open while they go at it.
Now on to the juicy stuff: "A loud smack of the Jet Ski on the water as it bounced over its own wake had her drawn again to the man. At this distance she could only see the dark hair and broad shoulders as he sat astride the machine. He seemed fearless as the engine roared louder and he went even faster. She could imagine herself flying along, the wind blowing all cares away." (Read more)

Spotted: A Separate Peace by John Knowles

Where: A packed Q-train.
Who was reading: A woman in her 30s with messy brown hair tucked under a striped cap. Her long puffy coat resembled a sleeping bag.
She finished the book as we emerged from darkness  . . . to cross the Manhattan Bridge. Composing this post in my head, I thought I had it all figured out: she would complete the last page, then lower the book to gaze contemplatively out over the water, allowing the stirring final words to slowly sink in.
But thwarting all expectations! she instead flipped back to the beginning of the book, scanned the review quotes, and started in again on page one. That is dedication.
Confession: I read the entire last page over her shoulder, then gazed contemplatively out over the water as those stirring final words slowly sunk in. It gave me goose-bumps.

Spotted: Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk Rock by Legs McNeil and Gillian McCain

Where: R-train
Who was reading: A balding man with a gently hooked nose in a long trench coat. A half-grimace kept tugging at his lips, but left unchecked it might well have metamorphosed into a genuine smile.
What part of the book was he reading? Part III: The Piss Factory. This, in my opinion, is an excellent part title. Parts from other books could learn a lot from it.
What is "The Piss Factory"? Originally, this refers to the factory where a young Patti Smith once inspected pipe as a summer job. She would later write a song about it, entitled, you guessed it, "Piss Factory." I suppose you'd have to read the book to figure out why this marked a significant moment in the history of punk rock. 
If you're in the mood for something lighter (but just as rockin')... you can't go wrong with Punk Rock Etiquette by Travis Nichols.

5332: A lengthy ramble on 2 people reading 2666 by Roberto Bolaño

Where: Both on the R-train, traveling in opposite directions.
Bet that would sound WAY more poetic if you framed it as a nautical analogy: Good point. Perhaps the esteemed "Unknown" said it best when s/he wrote "There are those who pass like ships in the night, who meet for a moment, then sail out of sight."
Much better, now who was reading? Ship #1 was a young woman in a purple-and-yellow plaid skirt, with black tights and black everything else including a pair of clunky Amelie shoes. Ship #2 was a young man of the hipster persuasion, with an unseasonably bronzed face and light brown whiskers. Said whiskers were swaddled in a saffron-colored scarf and he carried a sack of art supplies.
How come none of this has anything to do with 2666? Pure oversight. But come to think of it I heard that book was good. Like really good.
Isn't it amazing... that Bolaño has been writing novels since the early '90s, and yet his work has only recently come into the limelight in this country? It makes me wonder how many great works of literature go unnoticed—or "sail out of sight"—simply because they're never translated into English.

Spotted: The Art of Non-Conformity by Chris Gillebeau

Where: Q-train

Who was reading: A twenty-something guy with puffy hair and an even puffier coat.

According to the author: "My mission is to help people live unconventional lives, make their own choices, and change the world."

How "non-conformist" is this? A cursory Google search of each pillar of the author's mission statement produces the following results: 

• "Live an unconventional life" = 36,100 hits
• "Make your own choices" = 2,330,000 hits
• "Change the world" = 5,550,000 hits

But ultimately, a picture speaks louder than 1,000 statistics

http://chrisguillebeau.com/3x5/about-chris/ 

Spotted: Howard's End by E.M. Forster

Where: N-train
Who was reading: A snappy pink-shirted man (snicker) on his morning commute from Queens to Midtown.
What does Super-Critic Lionel Trilling have to say about this book? "[A] literary fact that is likely to influence our feelings about all of Forster's books, is that they are by the author of Howard's End. That is not to imply a denigration of the book or to suggest a significant difference in quality. But Howard's End is undoubtedly Forster's masterpiece."
But in my own humble opinion . . . A Room With a View is a more enjoyable read all around.

Aw shucks, Galleycat, you sure are swell

Thanks to Galleycat for the great write-up!

Also, for those interested in following The Book Spy on Twitter, it is now possible to do so @readandbeseen! I'm sure there is a better way to facilitate following—a button or gadget perhaps—but in case you hadn't noticed, my computer skills fall somewhere between dysfunctional and prenatal.

Spotted: The Disciplined Trader: Developing Winning Attitudes by Mark Douglas

Where: B-train

Who was reading: An ambitious-looking fellow in his early-to-mid twenties. He was positioned rather awkwardly in the middle seat, with his elbows tucked in politely.

But that’s not what the free market’s all about! It’s about elbowing your way to the top one bruised seat partner at a time. It’s about crushing the competition beneath the heel of a shoe that cost more than your classmates still owe in student loans. Heck, what was this guy even doing on the subway?

If I were him… I’d commute to work in a Zeppelin made of Fabergé eggs and powered by endangered flying squirrels.

Missed connection: girl reading The Hunger Games + boy reading Mockingjay

Where: Mere footsteps apart on the platform at Dekalb, totally oblivious to one another.

Who was reading: She wore a hot pink coat with a floppy gray hat, he a Castro hat and Carhardt hoodie.

Alas, it was not to be. He boarded the car behind her on the Q, and never again would the twain meet.

But whatever: He probably went on to land some hotshot gig in District 2, while she squandered her remaining days in Victor’s Village, listlessly sifting through the pieces of broken dreams.

And ultimately . . . If Katniss couldn’t have Gale then no one deserves to be happy.

Post Script: If this doesn't make sense, all I can say is read the books. You won't regret it.

Spotted: A Year Down Yonder by Richard Peck

Where: R-train

What’s that big gold circle on the cover? That’s the prestigious Newbery Medal.

Who was reading: A Park Slope dad-type in khaki pants and a wind-breaker. Little tags on his shoes shouted “GORE-TEX!”—but what part of a shoe could possibly be made out of Gore-tex, I ask you?

Peeking out from under a modest shelf of belly… Just a sliver of alpaca-wool belt could be seen. I started to snicker, but was quickly sobered by the realization that my own dad dresses just like this.
The reviews are right! Or at least School Library Journal was right in saying that, “Even high school and adult audiences will enjoy A Year Down Yonder.”

And even though it’s totally acceptable for adults to read children’s books… This guy was super-furtive, making it nearly impossible to figure out the title. He had his paperback copy folded back so that the covers touched, and although I kept twisting into odd positions to see better, the only thing I succeeded in doing was drawing plenty of weird looks from the teenager across the way. After many failed attempts, I copied down a sentence from the interior and used it to track down the title later.