Have I ever shared with you the most damning praise I ever read in a book review?
A student once wrote that a novel was well-punctuated.
If I have shared this with you before, it is worth rolling out every so often. I think of it when I have little to say in praise of a novel. I am not sure if the student was being critical or if she was honestly amazed at the skills of punctuation. Either way it is original. Such fun.
We need some lightness in coping with the darkness of one of the books I read last hols.
I am Malala: The girl who stood up for education and was shot by the Taliban by Malala Yousafzai and Christina Lamb. Moving, depressing, heartening. Doesn’t offer much hope for Pakistan despite the brave and selfless acts of individuals like Malala and her father.
I read this at the time of Tunisian shooting and after reading many ISIS Twitter accounts after the death of a dickhead Australian who joined ISIS. Madness cannot be countered. Not with logic. Not with love. Really it’s a shitty mess.
Dar’s review of Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh made me want to read this again. I am sure I read this decades ago; definitely watched the original miniseries. Do you find when you come back to some books at a different time in your life, you have a whole different read, see different things, look at it through a different lens and get a different meaning. It’s just a different experience?
What struck me on this reading is how unlikable and selfish is Charles Ryder, the narrator. I don’t care that he doesn’t get the girl he supposedly loves. He doesn’t deserve her. Thoroughly selfish lot the upper class – all of them. If I was Sebastian, I’d probably run away too. I will watch the miniseries and the latest interpretation to see how the characters are presented, how we are positioned to feel about them all.
But I don’t think I care. And that blasted teddy bear. For god’s sake. Toss it. Pretentious affectation.