The Shamrock Shakes of Irish Literature

Last week, my brother-in-law, who moved to Boston last summer, asked me if the McDonalds on the East Coast served up Shamrock shakes for Saint Patrick's Day, like they did back in the Midwest. A Boston resident for over three years and a fan of--if not the fast food chain--that creamy mint green shake myself, I was ashamed to say I did not know. But I was able to tell him about Dunkin Donuts' seasonal Irish Creme donut, a sugar coated bun filled with a creme not-quite-green but a shade less yellow than your traditional Boston creme. It's nothing compared to their autumnal pumpkin donut, but as a novelty item, it's not a bad way to get yourself primed for St. Patrick's Day.

Of course, to get a true taste of Ireland, no one goes for the food. This month, we've got a range of Irish literature on display, writers who will give you a more accurate glimpse into Irish culture, landscape and cuisine--without the foul aftertaste of American fast food. We've got the classics: Yeats and Beckett and Joyce, and Flann O'Brien's At Swim Two Birds. These guys are the Shamrock Shakes of Irish literature. You'll want to pick them up again, year after year.

You've read Dubliners, but have you read Dublinesque, a new novel by Enrique Vila-Matas set in Dublin as the world of publishers, readers, and writers is losing its hold on Irish culture. The protagonist is a retired literary publisher, but the strong presence of Joyce and Beckett in this novel almost make them characters as well.

And if you're looking for non-fiction set in Ireland, pick up Robert Kanigel's On an Irish Island. Kanigel introduces the reader to the lost world of the Great Blasket, an island off the west coast of Ireland, renowned for its former communal life and preservation of the Irish language. Kanigel weaves together the island's history with the colorful life of its local residents and visiting scholars.

Any of these books would go nicely with a pint of Guinness or, if you can find one out here, a Shamrock shake. Whether you're looking for a guidebook, map, or simply some good armchair travel, we've got them, no artificial flavors added.

What I'm Taking on My Summer Vacation.

Hey friends. I'm writing this blog post ahead of schedule because by Saturday, I will be in Rhode Island for a week with my family. We go annually; what began as a retreat in order to partake in the festivities of my youngest aunt's wedding (over a decade ago) became a general yearly family reunion, which slowly was eaten away by entropy until now it is just my sole family unit: sister, father, step mom, and me. Even my Dad secretly hates it, but the rest of us are so in love with going every year that he plays along. The reason why everyone else, including my Dad, has lost interest in the annual Rhode Island vacation is because there's really nothing to do there. I mean, there was when we started going as a family, lo these many years ago. People went on hikes, went to various beaches, explored the outlying flora and/or fauna. I am related to more than a few birdwatchers, so that held them for a little while. Eventually, however, one by one, Rhode Island became boring, and my dear relatives stopped using up their vacation time just to sit around and talk to other Hydes about whatever is going on at work currently.

The reason that myself, my sister, and my step mom all still like it is because we are boring.

So boring. We're indoor folk by nature, meaning for us, vacation means a mostly sedentary existence. We watch a lot of movies, we read a lot of books, there's a lot of beer and ice cream involved. I walk to the beach almost daily, but I feel no real urge to go to any other beaches. I'm happy with the beach I go to. This is probably related to the fact that I have poor directional sense, and like to avoid any kind of activity wherein I could get lost. I've tried to fight this whole homebody nature, and I do love nature and being outside, but what I really want from a vacation is the freedom to do, or not to do, as I please.

And here we arrive at the nature of this blog post: what am I bringing to Rhode Island?

Obviously, since this is a graphic novel, (by a notoriously amazing graphic novelist) I reckon it will take me less than an afternoon to get through it. I realized the other day that, while I love Alison Bechdel, and while Graphica is one of my sections here at the store, I still have not read this guy. So I went crazy and bought it - yeah, I bought a hardcover, like some kind of fancypants Richy McRicherton - and, later this week, will delicately tuck it into my luggage (smash cut to: me throwing t-shirts, dog-eared trade paperbacks and bath items into a duffel while my family honks a horn repeatedly from the car outside) where I will enjoy it on a deck, I'd wager.

I'm also going to bring James Joyce's "Ulysses", because I haven't read it yet and I am intrigued by it. I probably won't get very far into it before I pass out in a bowl of potato salad. I don't really know what else to say here except that I have lofty reading expectations but usually do not meet my own goals. And if you have a problem with that, our life together is going to be really long and unsatisfying.

Oh look, another massive, ambitious novel that I have no hope of finishing. This kind of happens every year, I bring several heavy, difficult tomes with me and then I end up watching basic cable and playing video games with my sister. I'm still going to bring this guy though. I bought "Children's Hospital" when it was on remainder about a year ago, because Katie, a bookseller here with a penchant similar to mine for all things weird and funny, recommended it to me. I also find the premise promising.

I have no reason for bringing this slim little collection, except that it is on remainder right now and I started reading it and I like it, it's easy to read, it has some poetical chops that I enjoy, and it's less than 600 pages. I guarantee you, this will be the only book I want to read while I am there.

I'll tell you how things go. Until we read again, sweet gentles.