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That’s what we had last weekend. And, obviously, a few books came home with us.
From the Oxfam Bookshop:
- No Worries – Mark McCrum (2€)
- Great Bus Journeys of the World – Alexei Sayle and David Stafford (2€)
- Travels with my Radio – Fi Glover (4€)
- Just As Well I’m Leaving – Michael Booth (5€)
From Eason:
- Started Early, Took My Dog – Kate Atkinson
- The Brightest Star in the Sky – Marian Keyes
- Eating Animals – Jonathan Safran Foer
- Germania – Simon Winder
From an outdoor book market:
- Memoir – John McGahern (4€)
- A Confederacy of Dunces – John Kennedy Toole (4€)
- The School at the Chalet – Elinor M. Brent-Dyer (4€)
From Pocketshop at Arlanda on the way back:
- The Worst Date Ever – Jane Bussmann
I swear I meant to write proper posts on some of these. However:
Police at the Funeral - Margery Allingham
Showed up in my mailbox as a sort of birthday present – bookcrossing style. A quirky and charming read and definitely an author to look out for later. I still haven’t quite decided who next to “inflict” this on, I think it takes a certain kind of reader… Hm.
Portnoy’s Complaint – Philip Roth
A little dreary, but good in its way – I think its supposed to be a little dreary, to be honest. Recognisable and not so recognisable themes of guilt and shame, religion and upbringing.
The Chronicles of Prydain – Lloyd Alexander
A reread occasioned by finding the first three books in Norwegian second-hand by chance.
Sputnik Sweetheart – Haruki Murakami
Also a bookcrossing copy, my suspicions that I’d like Murakami in novel-form was confirmed. A perfectly beautiful – though quite sinister - book, and very hard to put down once you’ve started.
Under the Duvet, Angels and The Other Side of the Story – Marian Keyes
A three for one sale on Marian Keyes paperbacks, and these are the ones I came away with. Under the Duvet was entertaining, but possibly a little too light-hearted for my taste (even the pieces dealing with serious issues such as alchoholism somehow felt light-hearted, something Rachel’s Holiday – the novel dealing with the same issue – doesn’t). I realised, shortly after having started it, that I’ve read Angels before. Nevermind, I didn’t remember how it would all end and it was worth a reread (even if I still don’t really like the ending. Bah). The Other Side of the Story was, uhm, not quite up to Keys’ usual standard, I don’t think. I think partly it was the narrative form I didn’t like, it was slightly too disjointed to suit the overall style of the novel (or me, possibly).
The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox – Maggie O’Farrell
Received from Tonbel, who grabbed the chance to get rid of some books while I was there. Most of them ended up bookcrossed, but this one she suggested I read, and I’m glad she did. The main problem with this book was that it was at least 400 pages too short. I wanted to know more, much more, and it left me (internally, I was on the bus) shouting “But what happened next?” Not that the story is unfinished as such, just that the characters were compelling enough to make me want to read more. I think I will have to put the books O’Farrell mentions as helpful when researching on my tbr list.
I’ve probably forgotten something here, oh well.
The Tale of Desperaux – Di Collofello
Very sweet. Not exceptionally good, though, and with an underlying sort of morality which bothered me. Since I rather like rats I objected to the description of them being so nasty to look at and touch (especially in comparison with mice, which are, apparently, not nasty at all), but I can understand how it might be necessary for the story. However, I can’t quite excuse the idea that a rat is a rat and can never change his nature, it smacks – to me – a little of the I’m-trying-to-be-politically-correct-but-I’m-a-racist-really premise that all, say, negroes are lazy, but it’s in their nature and they can’t really help it. Balderdash.
Small Wars Permitting – Christina Lamb
Very interesting, highly readable. My father just finished this when I was trying to get through Sorting Out Billy (see below) and there was no competition, really, I jumped at the chance to read something else. Lamb manages to be both informative, profound and thought-provoking and at the same time laugh-out-loud funny in places. The book contains both newly written context material and quite a few of Lambs articles from various papers and both are equally readable and absorbing. Highly recommended.
Then, a bit of a Durrell reread going on – in between all the other stuff – if I find the time and energy I might write a more detailed post on Durrell, but for now, here’s a list:
The Bafut Beagles – Gerald Durrell
Fillets of Plaice – Gerald Durrell
The Stationary Ark – Gerald Durrell
A Zoo in my Luggage – Gerald Durrell
Catch me a Colobus – Gerald Durrell
The Dunken Forest – Gerald Durrell
Himself and Other Animals – David Hughes (biography)
Sorting Out Billy – Jo Brand
I read only the first half, or thereabouts and then gave it up in disgust. Abysmally bad, actually.
The Book of Lost Things – John Connolly
Entertaining, slightly scary in parts. Well worth the time.
Anybody Out There? – Marian Keyes
Excellent. I was a little worried, not being a great fan of spiritualism and trying to speak to the dead, however, Keyes managed the issue beautifully, I think, and I didn’t cringe even once.
Slam – Nick Hornby
Hornby’s first “young adult” novel, which probably should be compulsory reading for most British teenagers as a sort of literary contraception. Not Hornby’s best book – by far – from an adult point of view, but then that’s hardly the right point of view for judging it.
American Gods – Neil Gaiman
Superb.
A Ramble Round the Globe – Thomas Dewar
Disappointingly unoccupied with whisky or with advertising, the two main reasons I am interested in Tommy Dewar, but a rather interesting read nonetheless.
The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid – Bill Bryson
Just what you’d expect from Bill Bryson: Very good.
In which Robin shouts: Oh, not again!
Why do these people keep doing this to me? Why do they keep spoiling a perfectly good read with a crappy ending? Why?
I like Marian Keyes’ books, I really do. And getting to know more of the Walsh’s – though I must admit to not realising Watermelon and Rachel’s Holiday were connected until bits of Angels started sounding very familiar – is a good thing. However, that is no sort of excuse for this behaviour. Having a “happy ending” that involves forgiving adultery is a bit alien to me (it’s what Pilcher did, too, in Starting Over), but at least I can accept that people think differently on that subject, but from a narrative structure point of view you can’t have a happy ending which involves someone the reader never has a chance to get to know (also alarmingly like Pilcher), I’m sorry, you just can’t.
Get a grip, Keyes (and Pilcher).
(To be left in London, I’m not carrying this home for love or money.)
Having a break in Middlemarch (because I couldn’t be bothered to carry it to Scotland with me), I reread My Family and Other Animals and The New Noah by Gerald Durrell, partly because they are both good, but mainly because I had spare copies which meant I could “lose” them along the way. Hopefully they’ll be picked up and enjoyed by someone else.
While on the last chapters of The New Noah, I conveniently found Marianne Keyes’ Watermelon in a PDSA charity shop in Helensburgh on the 26th and had read it by the 28th. It’s a very good read, entertaining and reasonably light (without being Mills-&-Boon-fluffy) and definitely of the feel-good variety. However, I don’t think it’s one I’ll want to reread (as opposed to Sushi for Beginners), so I left it in the B&B in Dufftown. My bags were stuffed in any case.
I came home to find The Road to McCarthy in the mailbox. I had completely forgotten that I ordered it from The English Bookclub to avoid receiving the editor’s choice, and so was A. pleasantly surprised and B. mightily relieved that I had not bought it while in Britain (despite looking at it in bookshops several times, I kept thinking “Nah, later”). Middlemarch will have to wait while I laugh my way through this on the bus.
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