Dream Homes - Complete With Literary Fantasies

Sometimes I see a picture of a place and it makes me think of what kind of book I would want to read if I was there at that exact moment. When I see pictures of England, I think to myself, "If I ever go there I'm bringing nothing but Shakespeare in my bag." And when I see Rome, I think Dante Aligheri. Greece? Easy. So many Greek comedies and tragedies to choose from.

I was looking at these amazing houses on BHG.com today and as I was daydreaming about each one of them, I found myself also thinking about which literary masterpieces I'd read on those porches. All photos are from Better Homes & Gardens.


Ooooooooooh. Man. This house makes me want to fill it with children. Like five of them. Just paint it white and add green shingles, and it'd be straight out of Lucy Maud Montgomery's fantasically creative mind and Prince Edward Island. Anne of Green Gables had to have been born out of an inspirational home like this one. That's what I'd do if I owned a home like this. Read Anne stories on the porch all day, sip iced green tea, and bask in the beauty of my surroundings.


This Queen Anne Victorian home is quaint and homey. I just know that as you walk up those steps, the aroma of freshly baked apple pie drifts through the doors and windows. Here, I'd read something by James Joyce. Ulysses or Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.


Another Victorian home, but this one is all-American to me. This is the American Dream in house form. I'd hang a gi-normous American flag next to the front door and be sure to add a hammock to that porch. I'd be up with the sun every morning with a cup of hot tea or coffee, a scone, and some homemade strawberry preserves. This one makes me want to pick up Homer's Odyssey again, or Dante's Divine Comedy - the Inferno (it's the best part, okay?) Even Sophocles's Oedipus or Antigone.


Oh! Can barely handle it. This refurbished 1870's Victorian home takes my breath away. I expect to see Dickens and Bronte characters fanning themselves on this porch. I'd read Vanity Fair by William Thackeray, Daniel Deronda by George Eliot, or Little Women by Louisa May Alcott.


This home has TWO porches! Check out the darling little porch/balcony off of the second floor. In my fantasies, it adjoins the master bedroom, where I could slip into a lush spa-like bathrobe and relax before bedtime. I'd plant aromatic herbs in pretty pots - lavender, sage, basil... and run my hands over them to release the scent as I soaked in Prodigal Summer by Barbara Kingsolver or Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert.

For now, it's Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy, read while lounging around a two-story Rhode Island townhouse style apartment. It isn't Victorian, but it's home. =)

Favorite Heroines

Two of my favorite heroines in literature come from ancient Greek works. Penelope and Medea are polar opposites as women go, but their passion is very real. I love them for different reasons.

Penelope was Odysseus’ wife in The Odyssey by Homer. Odysseus, a hero from the Trojan War, is on his way back to their home in Ithaca after the war is over, and he is constantly waylaid and prevented from returning. His trip and all that it entailed is the premise of the epic poem, but it is Penelope who catches my attention each time I read it.


He is gone for twenty years, and she waits unfailingly and patiently for his return. Despite their home being overwhelmed by suitors who wish to marry her, she keeps them at bay by promising to choose one of them once she has finished weaving the shroud of Laertes. She weaves all day, and each night she unravels her work so that the project will never be completed.

He eventually is able to return home to her, and they are reunited. And it feels so good.


Her loyalty and dedication to her husband are admirable (though not necessarily practical in those days, since she would have had no way of knowing whether he was still alive). She’s one of my favorite characters in literature. Thanks, Homer!

Medea is another favorite of mine, but not for reasons you might think. She certainly was a strong woman, but her morals were enormously lacking. As a writer, I love her for the depth and breadth of her characterization. I like her history and the psychologically destructive things she’s endured that brought her to the brink of insanity (and eventually over it).


Medea was a sorceress at the time Jason and the Argonauts sailed on a quest for the Golden Fleece.


Her assistance was requested, and she promised to help Jason in his search and acquisition of the item in question if he agreed to take her home with him and marry her afterward. He agrees.


According to some stories, the Argonauts were being pursued and were in danger of being overtaken. In order to slow their progress, Medea killed and dismembered her own brother and scattered the pieces (for lack of a better word) into the sea so that their pursuers would stop to collect the remains for a proper burial. In her love for Jason, she performed this first heinous act in order to protect him. Bonus points for sheer craziness.

They got married and had two children. Later in life, Jason got ants in his pants and wanted to break things off with his wife in favor of a new, younger woman (obviously). Medea goes cuckoo again and sends a poisoned dress to his girlfriend. The dress successfully kills the woman as well as her father, who tried to save her. Medea then takes the lives of her own two sons in order to do the most psychological damage to her husband. She escapes to Athens on a golden chariot driven by dragons, which was sent by her grandfather, the god of the sun.


Yikes. So she’s clearly deranged. But I love the story because of the dynamic that is there within her. Her story is twisted and crazy, and she’s completely over the top. Medea is a great play by Euripedes which tragically illustrates her story. It’s a must-read if you love classic literature. Especially the nutso ancient Greek stuff.

Dover Thirft Editions = Instant Literature Art

I was thinking that I might need to buy some more Dover Thrift Editions to create a frame of cover art from several books. However, I apparently underestimated my own literature-hoarding capacity, since once I gathered them all together I realized that I had these:



Sort of impressive, since I normally buy editions that are higher quality. Dover Thrift are exactly that - thrift items. Classic literature for under $4.00. They're the Happy Meal of books. A drive-thru special. If I want a new copy of "Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man" by the illustrious (and alliterative, which I appreciate) James Joyce, I am not going to choose a $1.50 Dover copy when I could get some quality out of my $10 by going with another publisher. One that might provide me with a different font than Times New Roman and might have higher quality paper than the grungy, grey, math class scratch paper bullshit stuff they use in the cheap books.

The moral of the story (no pun intended) is that I've acquired these editions over the years by picking them out of trash bins (literally - at book buyback, college students who paid $3.00 for one of these babies won't be able to have the bookstore buy it back. So they dump it in the trash rather than cart it home at the end of the semester. It's like Christmas for English Literature majors, if you're shameless enough to rifle through the garbage. You saw my pile. So you can see how worried I was about what people were thinking.)

For my "literary art," I arranged them by color so that it seemed vaguely pleasing to look at, and this was the result:



Now all I need is a poster-sized frame from Michael's or JoAnn Fabrics, and I'll be good to go. My sister-in-law and I are going shopping Thursday night after I get out of work. I'm attempting to acquire curtains (or at least rods) for the living room. If I can't find anything good, I'm planning on at least buying some beaded trim for some of our lamps. Drab to Fab, as CG says. ^_^ Night, all.

I leave you with a quote from Joyce.

...they were birds ever going and coming, building ever an unlasting home under the eaves of men's houses and ever leaving the homes they had built to wander... A soft liquid joy like the noise of many waters flowed over his memory and he felt in his heart the soft peace of silent spaces of fading tenuous sky above the waters, of oceanic silence, of swallows flying through the seadusk... -Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

Etsy Finds & Book Art

I just had to share these items that I found on Etsy. They’re listed as my favorites. But any of them would make lovely presents. (Wink wink, nudge nudge.)

I’ve been on a tea-drinking kick ever since I bought my adorable little green teapot, so I searched for vintage teacups and teapots. Look at the cuties I found! I’d like to just display these pieces. Gorgeous.





And these handmade bobby pins are to die for. I could just look at them forever. They make me want to curl my hair just to pin them in it.



This wall sconce is made out of PLASTIC! It’s adorable and only $8. I might have already bought it if there was more than one available. But maybe cute enough for just one... (??)



This mirror would look amazing in our bathroom. Or anywhere really. Narcissus would have starved to death standing in front of this beauty. Small but elegant.



And check out this artwork I found! It's expensive (for me) and I don't like the large view, which is this:



But the detailed shots are amazing. I love it! Artwork out of the printed word always gets me going. Even though this is less "words" than "letters" I still love love love!



Isn't it stunning? I'm trying to find ways to display literature in my home in an artistic way. Books are my favorite worldly possessions in the world. So far I've found this piece here and also this below which I'd like to copy for some of my favorite works....



I'm thinking something from Shakespeare or James Joyce. Thoughts?

Dusty Attic, Sunny Yard-Sale

When working 40+ hours each week, the one thing that I miss above all others is being able to read a book in under a week. When we were on our honeymoon, I read three books in seven days.

Granted, there are some tomes which should be pored over slowly so that one might relish the tactile aspects of a novel - the weight of the book in one's hands, the texture of the paper, the thickness of the pages, the feeling of satisfaction as page after page moves from right thumb to left... And the smell. The smell that rushes at one's nose upon opening a book for the first time - new paper, fresh ink...



Used books have potential for an even more rewarding reading experience. It's a classic tale of old versus new. Age versus youth. Some will smell musty or of mildew from being shut away in the airless, dusty attic of an old house. Some will surprise you. I once read a book that I purchased at a yard sale on a gorgeous summer day. The cover and pages were warm from lying in the sun, and it smelled of its previous owner's perfume. The smell was faint but distinct enough that each time I opened it or turned a page, I was rewarded with a wonderful, flowery scent.

I have a list in my mind of all of the books that I want to read once I'm finished with the one I'm reading now. (I Know This Much is True, by Wally Lamb...) I'm sure the list is hundreds long. Someday I'll be able to tackle the stacks and make some headway on my road paved with literary good intentions.

But for now, I look forward to my computer clock turning to five and the subsequent hour-long commute back home. Such is life in the working world...