I had the fortune to see an early draft of Goblin, and I can’t wait to get the book in my hands 🙂
The world lost one of its greatest cultural figures today, as legendary musician David Bowie passed away at age 69. He died after a battle with cancer. Bowie
Just finished reading “The Manual of Detection”, by Jedediah Berry.
Quote: “The diagram was a fairytale, written by a forgetful old man with wild white hair, and it whirled like a record on a phonograph.”
The story has a well thought-out, solid structure, the chapters’ of the book mirroring the chapters of the Manual in the book (yay metafiction), and a vivid juxtaposition of the circus as a metaphore of chaos and dreamland vs. order and ‘detection’, yin and yang needing each other for everyone’s safe living. Beautiful, imaginative dialogue and use of black umbrellas here and there. But it failed me completely on the characters:( in as much as they are functional, I didn’t feel any symphaty or empathy, for any of them. They fit nicely in the plot they serve, they have motivation…but I wanted to fall for them, and didn’t, not even a little crush 😦
Absolutely a book to read, anyway.
I finished reading Cloud Atlas.
Alas, all good things must end (who said that, by the way? I keep protesting. No reason why good things must end: once you eat the last slice of the cake, you can make or buy another one. Can buy the ingredients, can save to buy them. All to say, your intent and persistence can make good things last.)
I am not head over heels with it anymore, sadly.
Oh, I think it’s brilliant in many ways, cleverly thought out and skillfully built, as explicitly mentioned in the book, Matrioska-style. I love the expression ‘an atlas of cloud’, love the crescendo of the whole structure, the historical progression, the way in which each story is linked to the next, the mastery of language and narrative voices, the moral of the story…but once it reaches the climax, the going back feels more like being shown the secrets behind a magic show, like clever editing of several stories into one another (but we know already where it’s going). It is, somewhat, anticlimatic.
On to the next read.
I’m in love with Cloud Atlas.
It started, like many relationships do, with a tad of suspicion, a feeling of ‘do I have to’, the reluctance to engage, because no engagement comes without baggage, luggage, burdens and heartbreaks.
But now, at page 181, I am firmly and madly besotted.
Will it end well? Or will it be just one of those fiery and torrid but short and despicable summer affairs?
We shall see.
Finished re-reading We need to talk about Kevin, by Lionel Shriver.
It’s one of those books I picked up by chance, and read two more times in a row after the first time. This was my third reading. The emotional impact of the book is such (on me) that I still find problematic its analysis. If ever I felt LOSS pouring out of written pages, this is the book doing that to me. Bittersweet read, but I keep finding nuances I missed on the previous reading. It’s written in epistolary form, making me better appreciate the possibilities in the form. Quite strangely, I suppose, it’s a comforting read for me. Given the subject matter, I don’t think it should. It’s either an achievement of the book, or a failure in me. Here’s to reading it again next time I feel the need for it.
Finished reading Pavel and I by Dan Vileta.
I want to read it again at some point. The choice of structure, background and outside narrator are extremely functional and the whole architecture smoothly created, although I found it somewhat slow pacing in parts. I have the feeling a re-reading may be more stimulating.
Also finished reading The Crossing by Cormac McCarthy.
It does take you away with it into a hard land, other times, and strange tales. It does that. At some point I also sort of browsed through quickly a number of pages on the aims of God, and the reasons of life, and other more or less philosophical passages. There are a number in the book, and some work better than others. Quite a sad read. But also extremely poetic. Sometimes the way in which we read a book is dictated by the mood we are in. Quite obvious, of course, but also worth remembering it. I suspect I will read more by McCarthy.