Happy Monday (and anniversary of the Rubik's Cube)! If you go to Google and click the cube, you can actually play with it.

My home Internet has been down for almost a week now and I've been typing posts at home, then uploading them here when I have a chance with a public computer. I may be away for a while since I've discovered not having wifi in my place is actually a good thing and I'm getting lots of non-electronic things done. 

Have a great week! :)

Back in the late 70s, every Friday night my sister, mom and I would put records on the turntable and dance in our living room. (Please don’t laugh, okay?) Chic’s C’est Le Chic was one of the LPs we constantly rotated, even more than the Bee Gees or Thelma Houston (other disco staples of the time). 

Six of the songs from that album appear here on Chic: The Definitive Groove Collection and of those, the most well-known are: "Le Freak," "Good Times," and "I Want Your Love," still sounding fresh all these years later. (Boy, does "Le Freak" sound good and "Good Times" seems like more than just a song you heard at Skateland at your tenth birthday party.)

Of particular interest is the second disc which contains songs I’m surprised didn’t become more famous when they first arrived on the scene. Among the strongest tracks are: "Real People" (about figuring out who your true friends are); " Will You Cry (When You Hear This Song)" (very pretty and quietly emotional); "You Can’t Do It Alone" (oh so smooth and relaxing); "Your Love is Cancelled" (once you stop laughing over the title, you’ll love it!); "Soup for One" (my favorite and coincidentally, I’m sure, the most disco-sounding one); "Hangin’" (very catchy in that way only your foot knows!) and the quite addictive "Your Love."

As a rule, I’m not big on nostalgia…but I have to say that as I played The Definitive Collection I welcomed the happy childhood memories that drifted back as I listened to the music and danced in my living room.

There's nothing especially remarkable about this book except for two things: that the narrator, Helene, is genuinely likeable and that it (uncomfortably and unfortunately) is easier than you would think to really like someone who is aloof and only likes you on her own terms (if she likes you at all.)

If I hadn't personally known what it's like to be attracted to emotionally distant women who are (when you get down to the nitty gritty of it) not worth one second of your suffering over them I might have been more irritated by The Illusionist.

Tamara, the older woman our narrator is hopelessly (and I do mean hopelessly) fascinated and possibly in love with, is a few shades shy of psychotic. She has never quite gotten over her affair with a woman named Emily so she takes out most everything that makes her miserable on other people, especially Helene.

Like anyone else who understands that indifference, not hate, is the complete opposite of love, Helene appreciates it more when Tamara treats her badly. Rather than think the older woman just doesn't care, Helene decides she is hurtful so she can "reduce her to despair." Malice is far preferable to nothing.

Tamara is so unpredictable that Helene never knows which version of her she is going to encounter each day: "I wondered if she would have the closed look of her bad days, or the charming look of melancholy which sometimes clouded her eyes, or a smile that I had never seen, but which would be my revenge if I could glimpse it for a moment, that shameless smile of a woman..."

Later on, an understanding and surprisingly sympathetic outsider advises Helene: "Listen, there are people who are in love, miserable and worthy of pity...say what you will, there's nothing very loving and gentle about her." 

Sometimes you need an outsider (or maybe a book that speaks to you) to remind you that not everyone is worth falling in love with, no matter how oddly appealing she may be. Easier to listen to than follow, but this kind of advice (so starkly laid out here and with Tamara as such a good example of what not to like) can stand out when you distance yourself a bit from it all.

On a side note: different covers for the same book can be so intriguing, especially when used from different eras. The top picture covers the spirit of the book far better than the older one which only seems to focus on the forbidden nature of it all and how the subject was seen at the time the book was first published. And another stark difference is that Tamara never once (that I can recall) looks so openly at Helene. Helene could only dream of being looked at that way.

The Death of Ganymede by Clayton Kinnelon Greiman is surprisingly good. It's almost too good. The author writes so intelligently and has so much to say that I read more slowly than I usually do a book. But I think his ideas, though possibly too controversial for some, are worth taking the time to digest fully.

Steeped in both Greek mythology and Christian religion, his first two tales, especially "The Handmaid's Prophecy," inspired me to find the source material. The famous painting "Sacred and Profane Love" by Giovanni Baglione is featured in the beginning of the book and is key to many of the ideas scattered throughout Greiman's work.

This collection of stories, thoughts and vinaigrettes had me furiously underlining in my Kindle. His sometimes harsh, but hard-to-argue with insights on sex vs. love are far more than entertainment. If I'm understanding him right, Greiman is reminding the gay community (particularly the gay male community) that sex without love is about as low as a person can go, both for their salvation and their soul.

Fidelity is also critical: "Honor Thy Partner. Promiscuity is not to be tolerated. A breach of fidelity is a breach of faith, and a breach of faith is an unpardonable act. Love must not be defamed by debauchery." These are all ideas that anyone who values love and their own self can follow.

With its borderline esoteric approach and Godly advice, The Death of Ganymede may not always be for everyone, but for anyone lost and searching, there is comfort to be found here. I found myself nodding at some points: "Language has fallen. Beauty has become synonymous with Lust and is trampled in the dust."

I cannot believe how wise and helpful this book is at times. It's so much more than I thought it would be and much easier to decipher than it was in the beginning. Maybe it's me just reading into what I want to read, but I also think Greiman is saying love is worth waiting for and being celibate and patient is far better than jumping into something casual and convenient out of nothing more than sheer physical need or loneliness.

He also addresses another universal truth, one regarding society's insistence we all pair off: "It is the great lie we are all told, foremost by our parents, born of the belief we'll be miserable alone. Yet, it's fundamentally untrue." To those of us who choose to be alone or are alone or (even better) do not mind being alone, this is one of the best sentences in the whole book. While Clayton Kinnelon Greiman's writing may need a closer, slower reading than other authors, he is always sincere and passionate and, never, dull.

There are books that skillfully handle sensitive topics and there are mysteries that pull things together and totally surprise the reader in the end; rarely are both of these books the same one as is Marie Drake's wonderful Three Rules.

Right from the start I was pulled in, though I was a bit worried about reading the book because of its subject matter. Marie Drake is an amazing writer and makes Hope Wellman someone the reader truly cares about, sympathizes with, admires, but never pities. The reader probably has more faith in Hope than she does herself. Her horrific past has left Hope with lots of doubts and fears, but she is much more mature and ready to handle them than she gives herself credit for in her life.

Besides being a talented writer who makes every page one to turn quickly, Marie Drake also creates fully fleshed out secondary characters and manages to make a highly suspenseful read remain a believable one. What could have been a big problem (having to wrap up many loose threads at the end without making it seem like everything but the kitchen sink had been thrown in) became something even the most jaded mystery reader would not see coming.

I look forward to more fiction from Marie Drake. Deep, well-thought out page turners are hard to come by these days. Three Rules is not only a very sincere and touching read (I love the deep friendship Joey and Hope share) it is an unforgettable one as well.