I got two copies of this as a freebie from Salon.com, and so far, it’s been a very good investment: through the sampler CD, I discovered a musician I think I may really like, Andrew Bird. I’ve ordered some CDs, so I’ll review those as they come in.

For days after I watched this, I kept remembering how silly it was.

I’ll concede that I never much liked the book, either, but this movie seemed to me to be a piece of abject trash. The casting was apparently based on looks alone, and Juliette Binoche’s unmistakable French accent-hard enough to suspecnd disbelief about in the mother-Cathy-becomes truly ludicrous in her daughter, who had never even heard her mother speak. Aren’t there dialect coaches to help actors avoid sounding silly? But then, the native English speakers all sound stupid, too, so maybe it’s not her fault. Some hardly even speak but make asses of themselves. The leading man’s part is mainly limited to stomping around, glaring at people. I guess if you’re totally crushed out on one or more of these actors, you might enjoy it. But as a story, it’s idiotic. It’s like a bad made-for-TV movie.

I enjoyed listening to Patrick Tull’s reading of Master and Commander immensely, and now I’ve just started Post Captain. They’re wonderful. His reading is so skilled, his phrasing and feel for the material so excellent. I may have to listen to all twenty books in the series.

I’m one of the apparently few people who likes Mansfield Park, and I really wanted to listen to it as an audiobook—so badly that I downloaded it despite the horrible reviews of Flo Gibson’s reading on Audible.com. Believe the reviews. She is absolutely awful. Overacting, excruciating, annoying. Bleh.

It’s a very strange story, most notable for its being not about Wilfred of Ivanhoe at all. The afterword or whatever to this edition argues that Rebecca is the real hero, and this is probably true. But what, then, was Scott thinking, calling it Ivanhoe?

Now I’m watching the miniseries, which is very well cast.

Unabridged, narrated by Juliet Mills, from Audible.com. I’ve just finished listening to the first third-up to right after the fire in Mr. Rochester’s room-and am enjoying this recording very much. I’ve read the treeware version many times, of course, but not recently enough to remember anything beyond the broad plot. Hearing it read aloud brings new details to the fore.

A surprisingly quick read, considering that every time I brought this doorstop out in public, friends would gasp and ask if they could look at it. Never seen such a fat paperback before, I guess.

Much sadder than I remembered, probably because I stopped watching the BBC series once Anthony Andrews started looking too sweaty and drunk all the time.

I reread this about once every eighteen months.

Not the sort of thing I normally read, and definitely not the sort of thing I would ever read v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y, three times, if I weren’t being paid for it, . . . but as it happens, I was being paid for it (proofreading). It’s okay, I guess, if you like mysteries. I didn’t always find the actions or italicized thoughts of the protagonista convincing-unless she’s just not terribly bright, which is certainly possible-but in general I’d say the story is plausible and realistic, and the writing is clear.