We’re sorry that our posts haven’t been coming up on time. A mixture of random tech difficulties (anyone who uses Tumblr knows how moody the site can be) and own busy schedules and exhaustion. The last two weeks have been full of activity for both of us but we promise we’re trying! We might not be able to follow the MWF posting schedule we had in mind from here on out but we both hope you all still keep checking up on us from time to time!
Aaaaanyway...
Andie and I are voracious readers. We both grew up with the girls of The Clique, Private, and Pretty Little Liars. Andie had a good, long Meg Cabot phase and I once read a bunch of angsty, over-dramatic young adult novels to pass time. Having grown older and (hopefully) wiser with our beloved bookshelves, we want to share some of our favorite selections with you all.
On Beauty by Zadie Smith
On Beauty is a treat for anyone at all who likes observing people. The novel is full of clashing cultures, interesting ideologies, and very real characters. I'll admit, though, it's not a lovable book. By that, I mean that not everyone will be drawn to Zadie Smith's kind of wit and flavor. It takes a while to get attached to the characters here but I think that's part of why I like it so much. Smith made these fictional beings feel so human, so real, so un-beautiful. Dealing with issues regarding race, privilege, gender, meritocracy, and a whole bunch of other things, On Beauty is a messy story -- and, well, that's just how I like 'em.
“Right. I look fine. Except I don't,' said Zora, tugging sadly at her man's nightshirt. This was why Kiki had dreaded having girls: she knew she wouldn't be able to protect them from self-disgust. To that end she had tried banning television in the early years, and never had a lipstick or a woman's magazine crossed the threshold of the Belsey home to Kiki's knowledge, but these and other precautionary measures had made no difference. It was in the air, or so it seemed to Kiki, this hatred of women and their bodies-- it seeped in with every draught in the house; people brought it home on their shoes, they breathed it in off their newspapers. There was no way to control it.”
Les Misérables by Victor Hugo
I am half-ashamed and half-proud to say that Les Misérables made me whimper as I read its last few chapters in a dark room at 2AM, dropping a handful of tears onto its pages. Jean Valjean will always be one of my greatest fictional crushes because of his kind, kind soul. Lord knows how many times I had to pause and reflect while reading this epic story. Les Misérables made me want to be a better person. It wasn't preachy or perfect -- in fact, it was pretty gritty and sad. But it reminds you of why goodness is worth pursuing and worth saving. Doesn't that sound like it's worth reading over 800 pages for? (It really is worth it) (Also, I watched Les Mis on Broadway last summer and cried immediately -- I'm talking about silently bawling upon hearing the overture, people. That's how much this story means to me.)
“The power of a glance has been so much abused in love stories, that it has come to be disbelieved in. Few people dare now to say that two beings have fallen in love because they have looked at each other. Yet it is in this way that love begins, and in this way only.”
The Book of Laughter and Forgetting by Milan Kundera
The last book is more of a current favorite than an all-time fave. If I'm being honest, this spot should belong to A Million Little Pieces by James Frey but my copy is still with a friend. The Book of Laughter and Forgetting is an interesting anthology of sorts -- I say "of sorts" because it is one whole novel comprised of several small stories. Kundera is infinitely quotable, offering perfectly composed, bite-sized sentences that are even better once context is given to them. This novel dissects and explores some of the most basic human experiences/thoughts/feelings/longings.
“It takes so little, so infinitely little, for a person to cross the border beyond which everything loses meaning: love, convictions, faith, history. Human life -- and herein lies its secret -- takes place in the immediate proximity of that border, even in direct contact with it; it is not miles away, but a fraction of an inch.”
A book that also almost made the cut was Fifth Avenue, 5AM, a non-fictional read on Audrey Hepburn, Breakfast at Tiffanys, and feminism. That’s all for now. Not sure how to end this. So. Bye.
Stay Gold, Mags
The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux
Being an avid reader, choosing your top 3 favorite books was a hard decision. But I was very sure that Gaston Leroux’s The Phantom of the Opera would be in it. Despite being maybe being outshined by Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical adaptation (to which I will pattern my wedding <3), there is just something about Leroux’s depiction of the typical tragic love story, about the Phantom’s obsessive, all-consuming love for Christine that makes you reflect on what beauty really is. If you grew up loving Beauty and the Beast, then you will for sure be entranced by this darker and more depressing novel.
“Know that I am built up of death from head to foot and that it is a corpse that loves you and adores you and will never, never leave you! ....Look, I am not laughing now, I am crying, crying for you Christine, whp ave torn off my mask and who therefore can never leave me again!”
Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
An erotic novel disguised by Nabokov’s clever writing as romance - many are actually horrified once they find out that this book portrays child sexual abuse. What kind of sickly fascinates me is the way it is written - from the view of an unreliable narrator (Humbert Humbert). It actually makes you understand his side because Lolita’s view is silenced and thus makes you sympathize with Humbert. Again, it is a novel about a man’s raging and obsessive love (if you can call it that) about a girl who is clearly not right for him.
“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my sould. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.”
Whitney My Love by Judith McNaught
If you knew me since Highschool, you would know that my guilty pleasure are smut books, hehe. Judith McNaught’s Whitney My Love is actually the novel that got me into this very sexy and romantic genre. Like would you believe this book had me in tears, longing for someone as beautiful as Duke Clayton Westmoreland to love me as he passionately did Whitney?! UGH. Historical romances always get to me. They just have a way with portraying innocence and sensuality that makes you want to fall in love and in love again.
Actually, cray men just generally get to me. Hmm.
“When she spoke her voice was soft and filled with awe. “You black-hearted, treacherous, conniving scoundrel.” Clayton threw back his head and laughed at the contrast between her tone and her words. “Your flattery warms my heart”, he chuckled. “You have no heart,” Whitney quipped, smiling dazingly at him. “If you did, you’d never abuse helpless female by luring her into a game at which you are obviously a master.”
Without Wax,
The Andrea









