Ceci était mon deuxième livre de Dompierre et il est maintenant un de mes auteurs préférés. Style High Fidelity en français, avec le magasin de disques et le mec qui veut pas se transformer enfin en adulte; mais c'est plus drôle, le héros est plus sympa, et ça contient une bonne scène de sexe. J'ai aussi adoré son livre Morlante, que j'ai l'intention de relire. Vraiment mon sens d'humour.
This was my second Dompierre book, and he's one of my faves now. Sort of the French "version" of High Fidelity--the record store, the guy reluctant to grow up--but it's funnier, the hero is more sympathetic, and there's a good sex scene. I also loved his book Morlante, which I plan to re-read. Really my sense of humor.
* Took me this long to read, though, cause I made myself look up EVERY word I had even the slightest doubt about. 99% of the time I could understand everything from context, but I still made myself look (or put a pencil note, to look later, which I did.) There was one paragraph where I had about 7 pencil notes, yet I understood the whole damn paragraph!
Fave bit from book I'm reading. Our hero is talking to his musician friend, who wants to write some songs for his new singer girlfriend.
"You're not gonna make her sing your polka version of Highway to Hell?"
"It's not a 'polka' version it's a 'ska' version, thank-you."
"Mmmm. Yes. Of course. Can we agree on 'polska?'"
I finally came across the perfect French book for my mood--I'd forgotten I'd bought it on my last day of work. It's called Un petit pas pour l'homme (One Small Step For Man.)
A couple years ago I read Morlante, a book about a psychopath pirate who just wants to be left alone to write novels. It was so funny, it's the only book I wish I hadn't given away because with my practicing-French-mode I might have actually re-read it.
This is another Dompierre book, about a guy who dumps his girlfriend, and then realizes his new single life isn't as glamorous as he anticipated. The line I like best in the description is: "At 20, there was nothing cooler than being the manager of a record shop. At 30, it's another thing."
I only read the first chapter on the bus, but it was très funny, dans le style Nick Hornby, who I enjoy.
By the way, when I write titles here in French, I get mixed up about what to capitalize. I'd always remembered the rule as being: You only capitalize the first word, unless the first word is a word like an article or whatever (the, and, a) in which case you also capitalize the next word.
But a lot of the time when I see titles written on the internet they still only capitalize the first word no matter what it is. But you can't trust what you see written here and there, because frankly people just don't know their own grammar. I remember in grade 9 I was saying something apologetic about my French, to my French teacher, and she said (in mild disgust--she was Very Proper) that it was better than many of my fellow Francophone students. (I didn't have the worst grades, and French wasn't my worst subject.)
Anyway, I looked up the rule just now, and it's worse than I thought:
If the title is a definite article followed by a noun = article lower case, noun upper case (unless I guess it's the beginning of a sentence.) The Cat by Shakespeare.
Noun followed by adjective = only the noun is capitalized. The Cat fat by Shakespeare. <--okay imagine this is all in French where adjectives often come after nouns.
So far we're okay, it follows the rule I was taught. Here's what's new to me:
An adjective followed by a noun, well now they're both capitalized! The Fat Cat by Shakespeare.
Two nouns tied together by "or" = both capitalized. The Cat or the Mat by Shakespeare.
And apparently all other cases, only the first word is capitalized: Un, on, et... So the rule I learned only applies in the case of "the", so I must have remembered it wrong. And if it's in the middle of a sentence, you wouldn't capitalize the. So the Fat Cat by Shakespeare is written like that. But the Cat fat by Shakespeare like that, and the Cat or the Mat by Shakespeare is like that. But One cat who went to market by Shakespeare is written like that.
Pour les titres d’œuvres, voici quelques règles1 :
Le titre est un article défini suivi d’un nom : l'article s'écrit avec une minuscule, le nom avec une majuscule. Avez-vous lu la Chute de Camus ?
Le titre est un nom suivi d'un adjectif : seul le nom prend la majuscule. Non, mais je vais lire la Machine infernale.
Le titre est constitué par deux noms coordonnés par ou : les deux noms prennent la majuscule. Jorge Semprun a publié l’Écriture ou la Vie en 1994.
Le titre se compose d'un adjectif suivi d'un nom : tous deux prennent la majuscule. René Barjavel a publié le Grand Secret en 1973.
Dans les autres cas, seul le premier mot prend la majuscule. On remet toujours à plus tard la lecture d’À la recherche du temps perdu.
This week I'm going to get my hands on some grammar books and start reviewing all this. :-)
Sorry, I may have given a mistaken impression in my last posting when I said things were "peaceful." I didn't mean to imply that the cats were acting peaceful... just normal. Which is peaceful to me. In reality Minion is bugging the crap out of Haley. Meaning, life is back to normal. Re a reader comment, I'm not so sure Minion has really come face to face with the fact of her mortality. From the way she flings herself from to and from the furniture, I'm not convinced.
Just finished reading a novel, time to pick another. Better get back to a French book. Got to decide if I want something light or literary or what. I don't have as much Light in French. Harder to find, at least stuff that's inexpensive. May have to depend on the library, come to think of it. Even though I live in such an Anglophone community, my library carries a ton of French books--almost as much as the English, except there just isn't as much available in French as in English. I'm not sure if that's because there are more Francophones around here than I realize, or has something to do with government funding.
Anyway, decide tomorrow. Must go to bed. Here I am going to bed at a good hour (4 AM) but stupid daylight savings makes it seem like a naughty time (5 AM). I should be working for a jazz club, or for a rock star or something.
Maewitch sent me this site: betterbooktitles. I found that the funniest ones were the ones for books I hadn't even read, because they were just true for a great number of books.
And then there's this book which bang on expresses the joy I felt at the end of this book (and it's a spoiler so you've been warned. The book is The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao.)
My library website shuts down for maintenance every night at 11 PM or so. Of course, it's always after 11 PM that I'm wondering if they have a book so I can decide whether to buy it or not. But I've found a site that shows you whether a book is owned by your local library. Yippy!
I wanted to knock a book off my backburner file, so I returned to this one. Here's the longer review I sent to The Betties Blog About Books. Or, for your viewing pleasure, you can just skip to the end and watch the video of the Nigerian scammers performing the Monty Python skit about the dead parrot. Just because it's funny.
I Do Not Come to You By Chance - by Adaobi Tricia Nwaubani
It's hard to find English language fiction about sub-Saharan Africa, by authors who were born and still live there, so this book is a good find for this reason alone. The book takes place in Nwaubani's home town and the areas where she's lived.
I Do Not Come to You by Chance (I love the title) is about Kingsley, a young man from educated but poor parents, who can't find a job even with his university degree. As the family falls deeper into poverty, he finally ends up working "419" scams--those famous Nigerian emails we've all received--and naturally the book's tension hinges on both his moral dilemma of being a scammer, and the inherent danger of the activity.
While the author isn't very good at descriptive writing--I didn't get that "Ooh I want to see Nigeria!" feeling--she's great at everyday detail. I learned a lot about daily life (public transportation, placing a long distance call, education, dating, village vs city life, names, money, etc.) I think if you were Nigerian you wouldn't be bored/feel like she was writing for foreigners, but as a foreigner I was able to learn a ton about life in Nigeria. Super super interesting. And of course I learned about 419s. Nwaubani's done her research, and I never found the topic tiresome. The variety of scams being run is simultaneously fascinating, sad, creative, and funny. And I had to love the gangsters with their names like Cash Daddy and Protocol Officer and World Bank.
In the beginning I put this book aside for several weeks, because the start is slow. She's carefully trying to establish Kingsley's character, and why and how he would end up in 419s, but I think she could have shortened the front end of the book, and elaborated a bit in some other areas. For example, we don't witness his actual transition into scamming at all--it's a fait accompli when we hit Part II of the book. And towards the end, when we reach the inevitable point of having to choose between his new criminal lifestyle, or returning to the poor and honest path chosen for him by his parents, the choice would have felt more difficult if (a) the author had better maintained his connection with his mother, and (b) if the romance in the latter part of the book had been introduced earlier, and handled differently. The book's first romance is really heartbreaking, and this later romance could have had that potential.
On the plus side, Nwaubani's writing is really entertaining. The last book I read was also by a first time author, and he too was attempting to write a humor book about his nation (Canada); and though he was obsessed with proper English (he admits to this obsession) I found his similes and descriptions unoriginal and long-winded. Nwaubani, on the other hand, uses words in odd ways, and her writing is a bit sloppy; yet her similes and metaphors were creative, and her descriptions were funny. I don't have any quotes 'cause I can't underline on my ereader, but here's a good one someone posted:
"Then came my father’s diagnosis. For a poorly paid civil servant to get caught up in an affliction like diabetes was the very height of ambitious misfortune."
Also, I loved Kings. His character arc was realistic, he was a good kid, and I was rooting for him. I was curious to see how Nwaubani would choose to end the book, and I'm giving the book four stars solely on the basis on the last chapter (epilogue). It was perfect. It is so so SO rare to find that perfect of a last chapter. It was tight, it was funny, it answered all my questions, and it was satisfying.
ME
I wrote a wee bit about my religious background on Mabel Talk, if anyone's interested.
FOOD
As I cook things from my vegan cookbooks, I go to the VeganEats tab at the top and update it. It's divided by vegan cookbook. So if you're ever curious about buying this or that cookbook, you can see which ones I end up using the most. But I only started doing this a few months ago.
HEALTH
So I've been on Elavil for a couple years now--it's the daily preventative headache drug I take. It's made a huge difference in terms of keeping the daily headaches at bay. If I'm not stressed out, and I'm not menstruating, I can go for a week or two without headaches.
Then I tried a second drug, Nadol, which didn't seem to make any difference. I was at work at the time, and under a lot of stress. When I went off it, I was no longer at work and very relaxed. And I went through two really bad weeks--the week I was menstruating and the week after. Which leads me to believe the drug might have been helping a bit. But not enough to warrant continuing to take it.
Awhile ago I went onto drug #3, Topomax--I've been increasing the dosage every two weeks. This is the drug that gives me pins and needles in my arms (that's ok), pins and needles in my feet (less ok - actually SUPER ANNOYING LIKE MY FEET ARE IMPLODING!), less sweating (that's really convenient, I can forget to wear anti-perspirant even!) and last week I finally got up to the full dosage. Just in time to get my period.
The first full day of my period, Friday, I fought off super headache all day, with super drugs. Fight fight fight. Dull throb of low grade headache all day, went to bed this way. But since Saturday I've been headache free. Haven't taken one pain killer. I'm almost afraid to say it. It's the loveliest menstruation week I've had in ages.
I even had some stress, and it didn't bring headaches either. Fingers still crossed.
TV
I've been working my way through all the Blackadders lately. I started with 3 and 4, then back to 1 and now I'm on 2. The whole thing is just so brilliant, and exactly what I've been in need of.
BOOKS
Finished one today. Now I've either got to start something new, or pick something off my backburner list. I'd finish Julius Caesar but I keep losing it.
Ali Velshi
I finished the Canada Reads book today: Best Laid Plans by Terry Fallis. It's about a guy, Angus, who is strong-armed intro running as the Liberal MP in a riding that's always been completely Conservative, where he has zero chance of winning. But a last minute scandal throws the Conservative out of the running, and he ends up winning. He has no desire to be re-elected, so he goes about being an MP of Conscience, if you will--making decisions based on what he thinks is best for the country, not best for his riding, or for his political career. The book was originally self-published because Fallis couldn't find a publisher for it, until it won the prestigious Stephen Leacock Humour Award. It's now reached bestseller status for winning the battle of the books on Canada Reads--well defended by CNN reporter Ali Velshi, who argued it was an antidote to political cynicism, and he hopes it will inspire some real Anguses to run in future elections.
Here's the 2-star review I wrote on Goodreads--there are no spoilers.
My short review: I liked the characters, I was interested in the politics, it was a pleasant read, but man it was badly written.
My long review: I don't blame every publisher for famously turning this book down, the writing is AWFUL. 1. there's too much of the author in the book. What are the chances of two English-language-usage-obsessed people meeting each other? Very slim. It would have been charming for the narrator to have this obsession, or the protagonist Angus. But for both to be this way, it just felt like the author was being a sanctimonious pr**k.
2. He's terrible at describing settings and people. In a humor novel long descriptions just invite you to pass over them, unless you're very very brilliant. Otherwise a few well chosen words is funnier. (PG Wodehouse: "She looked like something out of the Book of Revelations.")
3. Our hero Angus had no failings. He had one small plan go awry, but everything else he did went over brilliantly.
4. Not very suspenseful. Really, there was no suspense to the book at all. No tension. No arcing plot. No bad guy, no antagonist, no goal, nothing to strive for, no tension. The book just wandered along until a sudden mild spike in tension in the last chapter. It looks like the sequel has an antagonist, so it might actually be better.
5. The first few chapters of the book could have been cut, they added almost nothing to the book. Just a lot of blaaa blaaa blaaa. I would have given up if I hadn't listened to the Canada Reads debates, and been spurred on by Ali Velshi's excited descriptions of Angus. I spent the whole beginning of the book just waiting waiting waiting for Angus to get elected.
6. The character of Muriel is so prominent in the beginning chapters of the book, and then becomes a ghost once Angus is elected. You could have completely removed her from the book, it would hardly have affected the plot.
7. You could have removed the narrator's romantic interest from the book and it would hardly have affected the plot. I hesitate to call her a romantic interest. She was there, she and the narrator fell in love in about two seconds. There was no romantic tension, it wasn't drawn out at all, there was no fun love story to keep the reader hooked, no fun subplot to jolly me along. It just existed. It needn't have.
8. All the 5 star reviewers on amazon said it was gut bustingly funny, and it won the Stephen Leacock award for humor. I thought the book was amusing at times, when Angus was Doing His Thing. But I never laughed at loud. Fallis didn't know how to build up the right kind of tension, so as to surprise me with the Angus Moments. I never had that edge of the seat 'Oh my God no no no -- he's gonna do it! OH NO!' moment that I get in really outrageous books. I always knew Angus would do the outrageous thing, so it wasn't suspenseful, which made it less funny. Also, the fart jokes and dog poop jokes weren't funny. Pete 1 and Pete2 were amusing, but Fallis never did anything really funny with them. The finale would have been funnier if we witnessed it in first person, rather than hearing it after the fact. The Leacock People and I just don't share the same funnybone.
Fallis looking shocked that he won
The good: Except for having no faults, Angus was a great character. Everyone else was likable. I wanted to see them win.
I was interested in seeing how a Canadian political campaign works, and then how daily government works. So I enjoyed the setting and the insider knowledge.
It was a quick read, and I always returned willingly to the book. I'd be temped to give it three stars just because I didn't find it an onerous read. But in the end... there were so many things technically wrong with it... I just don't think I can. If I hadn't heard it defended on Canada Reads, I don't know if I would have made it past the first few chapters.
The gods are punishing me for my hubris--the cold has moved into my lungs. Last time I had a lung congestion it lasted for MONTHS. I'm dooooomed.
Woke up at 7 AM. Finished the graphic novel I was reading, it was EXcellent. Really good, I highly recommend it. What graphic novels are all about. Though it occurred to me recently that if a graphic novel is a biography, should it really be called a graphic novel? Shouldn't it be a graphic biography? Graphic novel seems like the wrong catchphrase for this genre of literature, but it's too late to change! We should be calling them graphic books! Graphic literature! Aw hell, better go back to comics. Some people think "graphic novel" is just a term used by people too embarrassed to admit that American Splendor and Superman have the same genesis.
This is the review I put up on Goodreads about Fun Home, a COMIC by Alison Bechdel:
Autobiographical graphic novels are my favorite kind, and this one is excellent. Bechdel flashes through her youth, exploring her confused relationship with her father, trying to make some sense of him, and the choices he made, and her feelings about him. One of the strongest elements of the book is that Bechdel takes full advantage of the graphic novel form. For example, she often juxtaposes a book her father is reading with drama going on in the family, and illustrates it all with pictures of the father reading, with an image of the book's actual text, and with the family drama happening, complete with its own dialogue, united by her narration. That's the genius of the form--the way it can unite cinematic images with introspective narration. And beautiful illustrations.
Some images from & quotes about the book:
"For Bechdel, who did five or six successive sketches for each image in the book, scrupulous attention to detail is also part of her general approach to working in the visual medium of comics. For every pose in every panel of the entire book (and there are almost 1,000 panels), Bechdel created a reference shot by posing for her digital camera. In a panel, say, depicting a classroom of children sitting at desks, Bechdel posed for every child in the frame." (Village Voice)
"Just one look at Alison Bechdel’s mother’s face tells you all you need to know about her marriage. Therein lies the true source of the emotional heft graphic novels can carry: the ability to combine poetic, sometimes wrenching, text with a visualization that drives the point home subtly yet definitively." (Graphic Novel Reporter)
"It is a pioneering work, pushing two genres (comics and memoir) in multiple new directions, with panels that combine the detail and technical proficiency of R. Crumb with a seriousness, emotional complexity and innovation completely its own. Then there are the actual words. Generally this is where graphic narratives stumble. Very few cartoonists can also write — or, if they can, they manage only to hit a few familiar notes. But "Fun Home" quietly succeeds in telling a story, not only through well-crafted images but through words that are equally revealing and well chosen." (NYT)
I'm reading three books right now. Well technically I'm still reading Julius Caesar but can never find it when I want to finish it. And I'm reading a non-fiction book, about women in early Hollywood.
But I've got 3 fiction on the go. A book about a Nigerian man who gets involved in email scamming--we haven't got to the scamming part yet.
A collection of the three Cranford novels. I read the middle one in university years ago and enjoyed it. I'm enjoying the first book--a relaxing bedtime read.
And a book I picked up as a bargain book at some point, about a young Muslim woman from India who gets the chance to go to Paris, and becomes a model.
You can imagine which once I chose to be my bus and bus stop companion today, as I traveled through stormy conditions. When I know I have to spend hours in transportation, it's fluff city! Or it can be literary, but I need to be at the page-turning stage. And it has to be a book I don't mind getting wet, because I WILL stand with the book open to the snow. If I'm going to stand in the wind chill waiting for the bus to arrive, I want something to distract my mind.
I almost read the whole durned book, the ride home was so long. But I had a nice comfy seat, so it was very pleasant. :-) Ahhhh books. :-)
I finished A Tale of Two Cities today. I'm not reading a lot right now, so it's all slow going.
No one cares about spoilering classic books, it seems. Fernando says there's a statute of limitations on spoilering. Like... once a movie's been out so many years, you can't expect everyone to hold its secrets. He says I expect too much of the populace.
If you intend to read this book one day, I am giving you fair warning that there are SPOILERS ahead. Because I am an honest and kind reader!!
If you want to go around sharing the Famous Opening Lines of books, fine. But Famous Last Lines? Come on!
So going in I already knew the last line: "It is a far far better thing I do, than anything I have done" or something like that. Meaning: The character is doing something self-sacrificing. Spoiler.
But then on TV they always show the movie clip! So I know the guy is dying at the guillotine.
Then, a couple scenes into the book, I find out there are two men who look very very similar to each other. One is a wastrel, the other is a good man. Well obviously the wastrel is one day going to sacrifice his life for the good man. And since, in this same scene, it's clear they're both in love with the same woman, I know WHY he's going to do it too.
And that was it. A few pages into the book and I knew where it was all headed. Or beheaded. The fact that they look identical, that the trial in which it's proven never comes up again, and that they love the same woman probably would have tipped me off to an ending somewhat like this anyway. But still. I wouldn't have known for sure.
The Characters
My Dr Mannette played by Sutherland
I didn't care for its length. As much as I hate to say it, Dickens should have written a longer book. For heaven's sake, what happened to Doctor Manette?? Am I supposed to believe that once he sees Charles is alive he'll pop back out of his Shoe Mannia and return to normalcy forever? He failed! He worked hard for a whole year to get Charles out of prison, for the first time in decades he felt useful and powerful and strong, he performed this great feat at freeing his son-in-law, and a day later it was all for nothing. Do you think seeing Charles alive would be enough to rouse his from his catatonic state? I'm not so sure. I'm still worried about him.
As for Lucie and Charlies, I don't care what happens to them. They were as underdone as Scrooge's bit of potato. Which is annoying because one knows what Dickens is capable of. Whatever his faults as a writer, I always enjoy his reams and reams of great characters. But Lucie and Charles were poopy, Sidney's the great romantic hero, but I never got to know him. He was a drunk lawyer, he fell in love. That's all I learned about him. His sort of friend was funny, but not around much and didn't serve the plot except to show that Sidney had silly friends?
Penelope Wilton played Pross... in my mind.
Miss Pross and Mr Lorry were wonderful, though. Touching, funny, and plot-important. And I cared about Dr Manette. Poor Dr Manette.
The French
My other problem with the book was Dickens' description of the French Revolution. I didn't get the chance to care about the French people. There was Lucie and Charles and Manette, but they could have been any nationality. The characters he drew in most detail were all baddies. There were people you pitied, but they were sort of backdrops of piteousness. Not real people. You weren't given a couple Nice Poor People, Sans Murderous Intent to care about.
Dickens portrays the French as sort of Gremlins. When being downtrodden by the Nobility, they're cute and pitiful. Once they get their chance at revenge, they're pure evil. A moment later they go back to feeding their young, and being normal nice people, and then again they're rampaging about murdering. I guess Dickens was saying something about the breaking down of all order in society, and mob rule, and such. I think that's what my father took away from the book, and other people have as well.
But I want to understand how I too could end up like them. (I am part French, after all. Who knows what murders my ancestors committed?) I want to read a book like that and think, Well this is awful, but what other choice did they see they had? Or what about the Lando Calrisseans of the French Revolution, who did bad things because they felt their hands were tied? And between the aristocrats and the poor people, where were the intellectuals who were responsible for this mess? They're nowhere in this book.
Victor Hugo's Les Misérables is such a good counter-example of that--he carefully draws every character so that you understand them and how they became who they are. Two Cities should have been longer.
But still face-paced and moments of beauty
I still enjoyed the book, though. As I said, for the characters I did love. And Madame Defarge is a very good bad guy. And the second half is excitin', once Charles the idiot takes himself off to France.
There were also these little beautiful moments, such as the beginning when Mr Lorry is going to get Dr Manette, and keeps replaying in his mind the idea that Manette has been buried alive for a couple decades and he's being "recalled to life." It's a really haunting passage. And as this Dickens site points out, resurrection is a theme throughout the book. Apparently he almost called the book Recalled to Life, and I wish he had, because it would have lent it some thematic sense of wholeness.
____
My Mr Lorry, played by Caine
Here is the passage. Mr Lorry, a very proper Man of Business is on his way to pick up Lucie Manette, and then take her to find the father she's never seen because he was shut up in the Bastille 18 years ago.
But, though the bank was almost always with him, and though the coach (in a confused way, like the presence of pain under an opiate) was always with him, there was another current of impression that never ceased to run, all through the night. He was on his way to dig some one out of a grave.
Now, which of the multitude of faces that showed themselves before him was the true face of the buried person, the shadows of the night did not indicate; but they were all the faces of a man of five-and-forty by years, and they differed principally in the passions they expressed, and in the ghastliness of their worn and wasted state. Pride, contempt, defiance, stubbornness, submission, lamentation, succeeded one another; so did varieties of sunken cheek, cadaverous colour, emaciated hands and figures. But the face was in the main one face, and every head was prematurely white. A hundred times the dozing passenger inquired of this spectre:
"Buried how long?"
The answer was always the same: "Almost eighteen years."
"You had abandoned all hope of being dug out?"
"Long ago."
"You know that you are recalled to life?"
"They tell me so."
"I hope you care to live?"
"I can't say."
"Shall I show her to you? Will you come and see her?"
The answers to this question were various and contradictory. Sometimes the broken reply was, "Wait! It would kill me if I saw her too soon." Sometimes, it was given in a tender rain of tears, and then it was, "Take me to her." Sometimes it was staring and bewildered, and then it was, "I don't know her. I don't understand."
After such imaginary discourse, the passenger in his fancy would dig, and dig, dig- now with a spade, now with a great key, now with his hands- to dig this wretched creature out. Got out at last, with earth hanging about his face and hair, he would suddenly fall away to dust. The passenger would then start to himself, and lower the window, to get the reality of mist and rain on his cheek.
Yet even when his eyes were opened on the mist and rain, on the moving patch of light from the lamps, and the hedge at the roadside retreating by jerks, the night shadows outside the coach would fall into the train of the night shadows within. The real Banking-house by Temple Bar, the real business of the past day, the real strong rooms, the real express sent after him, and the real message returned, would all be there. Out of the midst of them, the ghostly face would rise, and he would accost it again.
"Buried how long?"
"Almost eighteen years."
"I hope you care to live?"
"I can't say."
Dig- dig- dig- until an impatient movement from one of the two passengers would admonish him to pull up the window, draw his arm securely through the leathern strap, and speculate upon the two slumbering forms, until his mind lost its hold of them, and they again slid away into the bank and the grave.
"Buried how long?"
"Almost eighteen years."
"You had abandoned all hope of being dug out?"
"Long ago."
The words were still in his hearing as just spoken- distinctly in his hearing as ever spoken words had been in his life- when the weary passenger started to the consciousness of daylight, and found that the shadows of the night were gone.
He lowered the window, and looked out at the rising sun. There was a ridge of ploughed land, with a plough upon it where it had been left last night when the horses were unyoked; beyond, a quiet coppice-wood, in which many leaves of burning red and golden yellow still remained upon the trees. Though the earth was cold and wet, the sky was clear, and the sun rose bright, placid, and beautiful.
"Eighteen years!" said the passenger, looking at the sun. "Gracious Creator of day! To be buried alive for eighteen years!"
Just finished re-reading. This is the first Wodehouse someone ever lent me, though I can't remember if I returned it unread or not. In other words, don't know if it was the first one I actually read. Same fellow who got me into Agatha Christie.
This Wodehouse doesn't have the best mix-up-plot, or the best Dreadful Fiancé, or any potty friends. But it's FULL of great, great lines--classic Wodehouse metaphors and such.
"I'm not so sure you are good old Bertie. More like a snake who goes about the place robbing men of the women they love, if you ask me."
"Certainly not," I protested, learning for the first time that this was what snakes did.
I'm not reading very fast right now, cause I'm spending most of my hours on my blogs & online-such. Still getting into Tale of Two Cities--I'm reaching the first third which is usually when a book finally pulls me in or not.
I've become a fan of buying second-hand books online. You can do this through amazon or indigo, or through sites like abebooks.com or alibris.com. For Canadians I highly recommend using abe. alibris has a set shipping price to Canada of $10.92, no matter which seller it's coming from; amazon and indigo also use a set price ($6.49).
Abebooks just shows you the shipping price set by the vendor, and you can sort your search findings by Total Price--so you see the price of the book WITH the shipping (which you can set to "Canadian.") You can almost always find the lowest price for the book on abe.
The second hand shops are worth a look, because I really common book will often sell for about $1 so you're mostly paying shipping. A random search pulls up Pillars of the Earth for $3, free shipping. Room by Emma Donoghue for $1 + $6 shipping.
Anyway, just something to remember. :-) I'm currently awaiting three second-hand purchases, research for my book--for my heroine's great-grandmother's part of the story, which takes place around 1918.
A book written by someone who was a child living in Hollywood when it was starting out--which is the setting for an important part of Genie's story:
And since I have an African-American lead character in that 1918 setting--this book about the Pullman porters, who were mostly black. Being a porter was considered a good job, was a big part of the formation of an African-American middle class (these guys could send their kids to university etc.), and its union is generally recognized as one of the early pillars of the 1960s civil disobedience. These are first hand stories, which I prefer if I'm trying to get a *feel* for something, rather than just a history.
And Langston Hughe's early-life autobiography, covering the time period of my story (he's the same age as my main characters.) The main difficulty of course is a regional one--Hughes' grew up in the midwest, and then was in Harlem and Mexico and Paris, whereas my book is mostly in San Francisco. But better than nothing, and will probably be an interesting read in and of itself.
Un petit pas pour l'homme by Stéphane Dompierre
