As you can see, I added AddThis buttons to the sidebar, which let you subscribe to this blog through a number of different services (choose yourself!), and add this site (or individual entries) to the bookmarking service of your choice. All without me having to put dozens of different links up, which would clutter the sidebar. They also allow me to track a number of variables, which pleases the math geek in me.

In related news, I am considering using this site to put some of my book reviews (nothing professional, might include gushing and personal opinions) out there. Possible genres covered could include Dark Fantasy, High Fantasy, Science Fiction and Gothic Fiction, although I have a feeling that (what with me being born into a family of intellectuals but being altogether too lazy for anything highbrow) I might end up reviewing a lot of Paranormal Romance. Cough.

I don’t think there would be as many people appreciating a Geoff Ryman review than, say, one of the latest Laurell K. Hamilton books. (Anita Blake anyone? I read them.)

To my defence, I did read many Greek classics, the Usual German Suspects™ (Goethe, Schiller, Heine, Mann, etc.), and even the occasional book about literature theory (Yech). Over time, I found that I really do love a lot of what is commonly called World Literature, the classics that transcend time and social context. However, I downright hate many of those more recent “literary masterpieces”, that – to me – stand out mainly due to being unfinishable by the reader.

If a book does not move or entertain me the slightest bit, then why should I read it? Literature is a form of art, and yes, art can be about many things, but shouldn’t there (in fiction at least) always be a sort of connection between artist and audience? I don’t care how slight, a thought, an intention is enough for me. But if that intention fails to connect to the reader, then the work has lost its purpose.

I might be a bibliophile, but at heart, I am a mathematician. I need for the book to give me something in return, for the time spent reading and contemplating. Call it considering the opportunity costs, if you like. Therefore, I insist on my right to stop reading any given book if I do not enjoy it, no matter how famous it is, how many prizes it’s won, how deeply the critics were impressed and how much it is considered fashionable to have read said book.

I am constantly surprised at how conformist many self-proclaimed intellectuals are, and how quickly they are to call you a plebe (or at best an eccentric), just because you did not read, say, Finnegans Wake (James Joyce), Infinite Jest (David Foster Wallace), or Remembrance of Things Past (Marcel Proust). If I do not enjoy a book, I am not going to finish reading it. Period.

(I did read a lot of Kafka’s work, but then again, he has a very fluid style in the original German and is quite easy to read.)

There, enough of that. Have an interesting Google Image Search result for “literary elitism”.

Having missed the first great migration wave (I was in Ireland, strolling around the countryside and blissfully without internet.) doesn’t help much. I really do not want to go through over 500 posts on my LiveJournal friends list. Not now anyway.

I’ll just have to get more used to RSS/Atom feeds. Sigh.

Besides this WordPress blog, I also opened shop over at JournalFen, GreatestJournal, InsaneJournal, and I still have old accounts over at Blogger/Blogspot.

Right now, I am leaning towards WordPress (so many options, too!), mainly because I think GJ and IJ are unbelievably ugly, and my Blogspot account is for my rarely used Japanese blog. Meanwhile, I will await any new developments.