Reading journal: Virginia Woolf on books

Virginia Woolf sharing my own thoughts on books:

What a vast fertility of pleasure books hold for me! I went in & found the table laden with books. I looked in & sniffed them all. I could not resist carrying this one* off & broaching it. I think I could happily live here & read forever.

She wrote these delightful words in her diary at Monk's House, Thursday 24 August 1933 (vol. 4, see № 29).

*The Confessions of Arsene Houssaye

image by me, appeared on Instagram 04/02/22

Reading journal: Janet Malcolm

My birthday is in July and people tend to give me books - hardly surprising. Some ask for my wish list and I email a link to my prioritised list, not the one with all the books I want. If I showed people my true book soul they might get the wrong ideas about my mental health. Surely, many friends understand this kind of obsession with books, but I see no reason to flag it. The links in this reading journal entry had been nailed down when two gifts arrived, books by Janet Malcolm and Linn Ullmann, so I updated them; also my next reading list which was ready. Placing these two books on a shelf to read later was unthinkable.

My oldest gave me Forty-one False Starts: Essays on Artists and Writers by writer and journalist Janet Malcolm, who mainly wrote for The New Yorker. Malcolm died earlier this summer; she was 86. She was born in Prague in 1934 but five years later, when the Nazi persecution of the Jews had started, her family immigrated to the US. Her writing appeared in various magazines and she also wrote books, e.g. these three that I would like to read: The Silent Woman: Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes, Reading Chekhov: A Critical Journey and Two Lives: Gertrude and Alice.

A dear friend gave me Linn Ullmann's autobiographical novel, Unquiet, translated from Norwegian (De Urolige) by Thilo Reinhard - the cover is in my top image. Ullmann's parents were the Norwegian actress Liv Ullmann and Swedish director Ingmar Bergman. Last year she was a guest at the Edinburgh International Book Festival, streamed online for the first time due to the pandemic. The book was already on my TBR but after watching the event with Ullmann there was no turning back. One day I would buy and read it.

As a present for myself, I bought some books (see e.g. the first two below) that I have already featured in the reading journal, including This Little Art by Kate Briggs and the biography of Elizabeth Hardwick which comes out in November.

Bookmarks & journal notes

Books I recently bought:
✔  Essayism · Brian Dillon
✔  The Lost: A Search for Six of Six Million · Daniel Mendelsohn

... added to my wish list:
✔  Damned to Fame: The Life of Samuel Beckett · James Knowlson
✔  Words in Air: The Complete Correspondence Between Elizabeth Bishop

and Robert Lowell, edited by Saskia Hamilton

... added to my TBR:
✔  Edge of Irony · Marjorie Perloff
✔  Letters to Camondo · Edmund de Waal

... prioritised on my TBR:
✔  The Snow Lepard · Peter Matthiessen

Janet Malcolm links:

▶  In fun conversation with Ian Frazier at the 2011 New Yorker Festival.
✔  The Art of Nonfiction No. 4, an interview in The Paris Review, spring 2011.
✔  A life in writing: Janet Malcolm, an interview in The Guardian, June 2011.
✔  An excerpt, the title essay of Forty-one False Starts, her profile about painter David Salle for The New Yorker, the July 11th 1994 issue.
▶  Two events: A Brunch Conversation with Janet Malcolm in March 2013, hosted by the Kelly Writers House at the University of Pennsylvania. The evening before she read from Forty-one False Starts.
✔  She was also an artist. Her collages inspired by the poems of Emily Dickinson were her most famous artworks.
✔  Finally, her obituary in The Guardian.

images by me, appeared on Instagram 14/07/21 and 19/07/21

Reading journal: Simone de Beauvoir

I am halfway through Force of Circumstance, the 3rd volume of Simone de Beauvoir's autobiography (№ 26). The idea was to finish it before sharing a new reading list. Beauvoir's life story is interesting but this volume has its flaws: Sometimes she's too concerned with setting the record straight and often it feels as if Jean-Paul Sartre is the main subject. Obviously, their lives intertwined, but I'm interested in her story, in her writing, not the content of Sartre's political articles in Les Temps Modernes or the plot of his plays. Speaking of politics. The book has plenty, sometimes to the point of being tedious or exhausting. Depending on my mood. On a positive note, Beauvoir travels all over the world and is a keen observer of people and landscapes. Those narratives, her books, and how they were received makes this volume worth reading, so far.

Bookmarks & journal notes

Books I recently bought:
✔  Philip Roth: The Biography by Blake Bailey
✔  The Radetzky March by Joseph Roth

... added to my wish list:
✔  A Splendid Intelligence: The Life of Elizabeth Hardwick by Cathy Curtis

... added to my TBR:
✔  Hannah Arendt by Samantha Rose Hill
✔  This Little Art by Kate Briggs
✔  Endpapers: A Family Story of Books, War, Escape and Home by Alexander Wolff

... want to read again:
✔  The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov

Bookish joy:
✔  Recently the 2021 International Booker Prize longlist was announced, containing the authors and translators of 13 books published in the UK or Ireland. I have yet to read any of them but was pleased to see among them In Memory of Memory by Russian poet and writer Maria Stepanova. It was translated by Sasha Dugdale. It so happens that in a recent blog entry I featured the US cover. Later in April, they announce the shortlist and in June the winner.

Recommended podcast:
▶  The 135th Backlisted episode was superb. They featured the novel The Fish Can Sing (1957) by the Icelandic writer Halldór Laxness (1902-1998), who received the 1955 Nobel Prize. Its Icelandic title is 'Brekkukotsannáll', which literally translates 'The Annals of Brekkukot [Hill cottage]'. This time the guest on the podcast was the British novelist and poet Derek Owusu. If you happen to understand Icelandic you can listen to Laxness himself reading his novel on RÚV, the Icelandic National Broadcasting Service.

image by me, appeared on Instagram 19/03/21

Reading journal: Mendelsohn and Gornick

My holiday break has started and these days I carry with me an agreeable stack of books. Not far though, we are in a Coronavirus lockdown in Austria. Some were on my last reading list and I‘m still reading them, others are new ones that will appear on my next two lists. On Monday I received Three Rings: A Tale of Exile, Narrative, and Fate by author, critic and classicist Daniel Mendelsohn. I meant to put it under the tree this year, as a Christmas present to myself, but I started reading it during a coffee break and couldn‘t put it down. It's short and contains three essays, an interesting mix of biographical writing, history and literary criticism, in essence about the writers Erich Auerbach, François Fénelon and W. G. Sebald. If you like books about books this one might appeal to you.

Another book in my stack is an essay collection by Vivian Gornick, Approaching Eye Level. It's my first by her; not the last. It goes down well with coffee and biscotti, as I predicted in my last blog entry.

In the Reading journal entries I have talked about books from a specific reading list but some time ago I felt the need to make changes, to make the journal more random and current. I also needed a category to archive my literary bookmarks. I mentioned once that it was never the idea to comment on all the books on my reading lists. I’m a picky reader and am seldom disappointed with the books on my lists. Sometimes when I truly enjoy a book, all I want to say is I loved this book and nothing else. That, however, hardly calls for a blog entry, using Instagram or Twitter is better.

Bookmarks & journal notes

Books I recently bought:
✔  Suppose a Sentence by Brian Dillon
✔  The Rings of Saturn by W. G. Sebald

... added to my wish list:
✔  The Krull House by Georges Simenon

... prioritised on my TBR:
✔  fiction: Oresteia: Agamemnon. Libation-Bearers. Eumenides by Aeschylus
✔  non-fiction: Trieste by Jan Morris

Bookish joy:
✔  The moment when Margaret Busby, chair of the 2020 Booker Prize judges, announced Shuggie Bain had won and its author Douglas Stuart gave an emotional acceptance speech. When Stuart won I literally screamed out loud for joy, even though I still hadn't read his debut novel. I was rooting for him but was afraid that a white male author wouldn't win.

Podcasts I can recommend:
▶  Back to Shuggie Bain: Sam Leith, the literary editor of The Spectator, recently talked to its author Douglas Stuart on their podcast, The Book Club.
▶  And here Leith talks to Natalie Haynes about women in the Greek myths.
▶  In conversation with Eleanor Wachtel of Writers & Company, Martin Amis talks about literary life, loves and losses. A very honest and sincere Amis.
▶  I rejoiced when I saw that Stig Abell, the former editor of the TLS, has a new podcast called Stig Abell's Guide to Reading. (The TLS podcast is not the same without him.) The new podcast accompanies his recently published book Things I Learned on the 6.28: A Guide to Daily Reading. These two episodes are my favourites so far: Modern Literary Fiction with Kit de Waal and English Classics with Sam Leith, the aforementioned editor.

images by me, appeared on Instagram 14/12/20; 12/12/20; 23/11/20

Reading journal: Beauvoir & Kafka

I thought it best to sneak in a reading journal entry before sharing more book covers. The book cover entries are tempting because I don’t have to grab my camera and I would like to have some covers on the blog for future reference. If you were worried about the coronavirus pandemic preventing the publication of books, I think you can breathe calmly. Plenty of books are about to hit the shelves and let's hope the content is as promising as the covers.

Reading journal, № 14 reading list, 2 of 7:

· Letters to Friends, Family & Editors by Franz Kafka. This is the first collection of letters by Kafka that I read and own. I was in no hurry to finish it so once I had read enough letters to get a feel for his voice, I read a letter or two in bed. The letters show the reader different sides of Kafka, from his student years in Prague in the early 1900s to his final months at a sanatorium near Vienna in 1924, where he died from tuberculosis. In letters to friends, he is less formal, of course, especially when writing to Max Brod who collected Kafka’s letters after his death, and it is through these personal letters that we see his health deteriorating. A more formal tone characterises the letters to his editors where he discusses manuscripts and even book design and fonts before publication. Perhaps those are more appealing to scholars.

The women in his life, Felice Bauer, Milena Jesenská-Polak, Julie Wohryzek, and Dora Dymant, appear on the pages, but the letters to Felice and Milena are available in separate editions: Letters to Felice (I recently shared the book cover) and Letters to Milena. The one thing that bothered me during the reading relates to the book's layout: The notes are at the back instead of appearing in footnotes, which would have been more convenient for the reader. This was especially annoying when reading many letters in a setting and constantly having to look up the notes. [Schocken; translated by Richard and Clara Winston]

· The Prime of Life by Simone de Beauvoir – autobiography, 2nd vol. It's been a while since I finished this one, which covers the years 1929 to 1944, and lately I have been gliding over sections where I had left a mark on the margin. I liked this volume more than the first but have to add that in the first chapters Beauvoir was sometimes too keen on sharing details: It sometimes felt as if she had to mention and describe every person that crossed her path. It happened less as the story progressed and the second world war drew nearer.

On three pages (319-321) spanning the period from 1937 to 1938, war is coming and clearly, the situation has started to affect her mental well-being:

Indeed, I now passed through one of the most depressing periods of my whole life. I refused to admit that war was even possible, let alone imminent. But it was no use my playing the ostrich; the growing perils all around crushed me beneath their weight.

If the Spanish tragedy dismayed us, events in Germany scared us stiff. In September, at Nuremberg, before an audience of 300,000 Nazis and something like a million visitors, Hitler delivered his most aggressive speech yet.

For my own part I was still trying to delude myself, and refusing to face the facts. But the future had begun to open up under my very feet, and produced in me a sick feeling akin to real anguish. No doubt that is why I retain only a misty recollection of this entire year. Nor can I remember anything of outstanding interest in my private life.

When the Germans invade Poland, on 1 September 1939, her narrative becomes a diary that ends on 14 July 1940. On 14 September, for example, she goes to the cinema and reads Portrait of a Lady by Henry James in bed. She doesn’t write daily and nothing at all after the fall of Paris, on 14 June 1940. Despite the war, there is no shortage of discussion of literature and philosophy on the pages, and it should be noted that the book is dedicated to Jean-Paul Sartre, who was her soulmate. It's truly interesting to read about life in France, about Paris in wartime; about visits to Café de Flore, on the corner of Boulevard Saint-Germain and Rue Saint-Benoît, which she and Sartre frequented ('It was our own special resort. We felt at home there; it sheltered us from the outside world.'). In this volume the reader witnesses the birth of the author, but in 1943 her first novel, She Came to Stay (original title L’Invitée) was published. During the war, she also worked on other books such as the philosophical essay Pyrrhus et Cinéas and two novels: The Blood of Others (Le Sang des autres) and All Men Are Mortal (Tous les hommes sont mortels). [Penguin; translated by Peter Green]

It is worth noting that some of Beauvoir's letters, published later, contradict the narrative of her autobiography. Finally, a few words about my copy which I hold dear. It was bought used, released in 1976, and is now so worn that it is falling apart. Gracing its cover is one of artist Matisse's blue cut-outs, Blue Nude with Flowing Hair, 1952.

images by me, appeared on Instagram 08/03/2018 and 11/07/2017

Reading journal: Whitehead, Baldwin & Brecht

School has started and I'm easing into the term, still taking moments every day to read the books on my latest reading list before the workload increases and deadlines take over. I have finished Patti Smith's Year of the Monkey which, for me, never quite took off, if we can use that phrase for a melancholy memoir that is partly about loss. The presence of the late Sam Shepard on the pages saves it. I'm a fan of Patti's writing, of her 'writing about nothing', as she explains in the book M Train, but here something is missing. The book has been praised but descriptions of dreams and diner food just didn't work for me. I wish she had waited and written about her trip to Australia the year after (among the many photos in the book is one she took of Uluru/Ayers Rock), but then the book would have had a different title.

Let us move on to the reading journal, the last entry for the 2017 reading lists. I know, I know, we have been through this.

Reading journal, № 13 reading list, 3 of 4:

· The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead. This novel won both the 2017 Pulitzer Prize and the 2016 National Book Award for fiction, and in 2016 it was Oprah's Book Club pick. Perhaps this has done it some disservice because readers probably expect a literary masterpiece. Despite the grave subject matter, slavery, it's very readable, and I find my mind going back to it. To the story itself, not its characters. My only quibble over the novel was the characterisation, which I didn't find particularly strong. The main character, Cora, didn't make a great impression on me but what has stayed with me is that her story is the story of too many. The title refers to the network of secret routes to help slaves escape to the free states. However, Whitehead uses magical realism and gives it a physical form, which I thought would bother me, but didn't. I haven't read any of his other books but intend to, definitely. He's a good storyteller.

· Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin. I wanted to like this book more than I did. Don't get me wrong, I liked it but I didn't love it. The Giovanni character annoyed me (although I did sympathise with him in the end) and I didn't believe that someone like David would fall for someone like Giovanni. This scene, though, has stayed with me, the night they meet at a bar in 1950s Paris:

And he took his round metal tray and moved out into the crowd. I watched him as he moved. And then I watched their faces, watching him. And then I was afraid. I knew that they were watching, had been watching both of us. They knew that they had witnessed a beginning and now they would not cease to watch until they saw the end.

This was my second book by Baldwin (I have since read more) but the first one I read, Another Country, remains my favourite.

· Der Gute Mensch von Sezuan by Bertolt Brecht. This play was the first German text I read after the move to Germany in 2017, an attempt to reclaim some of my vocabulary (there was a time when I read novels in German effortlessly). I didn't get every word but I got the meaning and enjoyed the play, which is set in China. It's a parable play about three gods that come down to earth to find one good person. The prostitute Shen Te is the only person who takes them in when they need a place to stay. Consequently, she gives up her profession and buys a tobacco shop for money they give her. Trying to be good in a corrupt world becomes difficult and she invents an alter ego, her cousin Shui Ta, to be able to run her business. In 1933 Brecht left Nazi Germany and this is one of the many plays he wrote in exile during World War II. His next play on my list is Mutter Courage und ihre Kinder (Mother Courage and Her Children).

image by me, appeared on Instagram 11/11/2017

Reading journal 2017: Didion, Sontag, Hitchens ...

Reading journal 2017 ... yes, you read correctly. Honestly, I don't know why it has taken me so long to share my view on some books that appeared on a reading list in October 2017. Well, I always allow time to pass between sharing a list and posting a reading journal entry related to it, but this time I probably set a new record in procrastination. If you have read any of these I would love to hear your opinion, even if you disagree with mine.

Reading journal, № 12 reading list, 4 of 9:

· South and West: From a Notebook by Joan Didion. The keyword here is a notebook. I ran to the bookshop to buy this one when walking would have sufficed. This is a slim volume, about 130 pages with a large font, and probably directed towards the hardcore fans. Starting in New Orleans in 1970, these notes taken on a road trip are mainly about the South. Didion is a keen observer and what struck me was how some of her observations still felt relevant in 2017.

The isolation of these people from the currents of American life in 1970 was startling and bewildering to behold. All their information was fifth-hand, and mythicized in the handing down.

I would not recommend this book to those new to Didion. To get the right impression of her as a writer, choose The White Album, Slouching Towards Bethlehem, or The Year of Magical Thinking. As a fan of Didion, it almost breaks my heart to say that it feels as if this publication was a way of cashing in on her fame. That it was made available the same year as the documentary was released, Joan Didion: The Center Will Not Hold (2017) by actor Griffin Dunne (the nephew of Didion's late husband, writer John Gregory Dunne). Writers also have to make a living but I think many who bought the book expected something more substantial. By the way, I love that documentary.

· Autumn by Ali Smith. This one has beautiful prose. It's one of those meditative novels without a plot. It's about the bond between Elisabeth and Daniel, a friendship that starts when she, as a little girl, interviews him, then just an old neighbour, for a school project. Unfortunately, this novel has gotten a Brexit tag, it's referred to as the first post-Brexit novel, and people seem to think it's political. It's not. The outcome of the referendum is there in the background but in no way does it drive the story, which is filled with life and art.

· Hitch-22: A Memoir by Christopher Hitchens. I say this with great respect for the memory of Hitchens, but this book put me off anything Hitchens for good. I remember standing in Waterstones with a collection of his old articles in my hands and spotting the memoir, which had escaped me, feeling sure I was in for a treat. I enjoyed reading the story of his mother - he calls her Yvonne, not mother - who hid the fact that she was Jewish (he finds out in his forties). He hardly writes anything about his wife and children, which left a gap in the narrative and felt egocentric. Unsurprisingly, this book is all about politics, and in it many stories about people who perhaps only a few have heard of but get so much space. Sometimes when Hitchens was ranting about people he didn't agree with I began rolling my eyes. Clearly, he was not a fan of Bill Clinton and when it's already fully established to the reader how much he dislikes him, Hitchens uses every opportunity to rub it in. It comes off as childish. Honestly, I often thought about tossing the book but read on so I could at least express my opinion. When he described becoming an American citizen and expressed his support for the Bush administration and the Iraq War he had completely lost me. Obviously, Hitchens led a remarkable life that brought him all over the world, but to me, he wasn't the right person to write that story. And given his status, I'm guessing either no one edited this book or had the guts to point out its flaws before publication. How this book ended up number 5 on the NYT critics' list of 'The 50 Best Memoirs of the Past 50 Years' is beyond my understanding. (If you are interested in a book review that covers the politics I would recommend the one by David Runciman for the London Review of Books.)

· Against Interpretation and Other Essays by Susan Sontag. I wasn't sure whether I should say something about this classic, but it gave me a chance to end with a quote that still feels relevant. These essays were written in the Sixties, between 1961 and 1965, and many of them feel outdated. I cannot say that I would recommend this book to anyone except students and fans of Sontag. The only part that I have reread is Part I, the first 36 pages that consist of the essays 'Against Interpretation' and 'On Style'. In the former, she observes: 'What is important now is to recover our senses. We must learn to see more, to hear more, to feel more.'

[Please visit separate blog entries for these two from the list: Stay with Me by Ayobami Adebayo, Travels in a Dervish Cloak by Isambard Wilkinson.]

image by me, appeared on Instagram 10/09/2017

Reading journal 2017: Roy, Mahfouz, Athill ...

I had almost forgotten how much I enjoy September, mainly stolen moments on the patio with books and coffee. Reading under the awning, viewing new books online, or listening to book podcasts, hours can pass without me even noticing it. As long as no one interrupts. Yesterday, two longlists for the 2018 National Book Awards were announced and I was excited about a new category, translated literature. In my notebook I had already written down two books on the list: Disoriental by the French-Iranian Négar Djavadi and Flights by the Polish author Olga Tokarczuk (her book won The Man Booker International Prize). Today they announce the longlists for poetry and non-fiction, and tomorrow for fiction. Those looking for reading ideas may want to take a look. A few words about my 'Reading journal': If I don't like a book that appeared on one of my reading lists don't let it discourage you from reading it. I have my own opinions and tastes, but I'm not interested in telling anyone what to read and not to read. As long as people are reading and books are being published, I'm content.

№ 11 reading list (6 of 9):

· The Ministry of Utmost Happiness by Arundhati Roy. I wish I could tell you that I liked this novel, her first in twenty years, but I didn't even finish it, gave up around page 200. It's political, which doesn't surprise me when the author is a known activist. However, it felt as if she were trying to cast a light on every single social problem in India, as if I were encountering a new one on every page. Perhaps readers who have kept up with Roy's non-fiction and activism are better equipped with understanding what she's trying to convey in this novel. The style felt overloaded and chaotic. From what I read I cannot recommend this novel but I liked her first, The God of Small Things, which won the 1997 Man Booker Prize.

· Palace Walk by Naguib Mahfouz. Unfortunately, because of our move from the UK, I had to return the book to the library before I could finish it (I have about 150 pages left). Nobel Laureate Mahfouz is a wonderful storyteller and this book is the first in his Cairo trilogy. It starts in the city in 1917, where we follow the life of the Al Jawad family. The father is a tyrant who goes from one extreme to the other: at home he uses the teachings of the Koran to control and oppress his family, while at night he abandons his 'beliefs' to discover the pleasures of the city. This book isn't always a fun read and it has its share of Muslim stereotypes. It has pushed many of my buttons and taken me through the entire emotional scale, but I'm definitely going to finish the reading. And I intend to read the other two books, Palace of Desire and Sugar Street.

· The Black Prince by Iris Murdoch. I also had to return this one to the library and I hadn't read that much to be able to talk about it in detail. I will pick up another copy later and perhaps comment on it.

· Gilead by Marilynne Robinson. The prose of this epistolary novel is beautiful. To tell you more about it I think it's best to quote President Obama in a conversation with the author back in 2015:

I first picked up Gilead, one of your most wonderful books, here in Iowa. ... And I’ve told you this—one of my favorite characters in fiction is a pastor in Gilead, Iowa, named John Ames, who is gracious and courtly and a little bit confused about how to reconcile his faith with all the various travails that his family goes through. And I was just—I just fell in love with the character, fell in love with the book.

For the entire conversation, please follow this link: The New York Review of Books. I highly recommend Gilead for readers who are not always looking for a plot or action.

· Waking Lions by Ayelet Gundar-Goshen. I have already told you about the setting of this second novel by the Israeli writer and how it came to me. If it weren't for its introspective passages, which slow things down, it would read like a typical thriller: A doctor driving home from his shift accidentally kills a man with his SUV and flees the scene. When the dead man's wife shows up at his door you know that his life is about to change drastically. I won't say more. (Translated by Sondra Silverston.)

· Instead of a Letter by Diana Athill. This was a rather disappointing memoir, mainly for its uninteresting content, not the writing itself. She spends the first hundred pages or so talking about her childhood and then she goes to Oxford. There are so many pages wasted on an engagement that ended - I failed to sympathise with it - and her sex life in her 20s, which may have shocked some readers in 1962 when the book was originally published. For modern readers, it hardly raises eyebrows. It wasn't until towards the end, in chapter 14 which starts on page 168 (of 224), that the book became interesting: when she stepped into the world of publishing. The final pages of the memoir turn into some kind of a travelogue and the writing feels slightly scattered. I have already started reading her second memoir Stet. It focuses on her life as an editor at André Deutsch (a publishing company no longer operating) and has received much praise. You will find it on my next reading list.

image by me, appeared on Instagram 04/09/2018

Reading journal 2017: Modiano, DeLillo, Bedford ...

What are you reading these days? I'm reading The Hare with Amber Eyes by Edmund de Waal from my latest reading list and already looking forward to sharing my next one. You see, I just purchased books and I also found plenty of books that I have wanted to read in the library's online catalogue, e.g. Penelope Fitzgerald's The Bookshop. I doubt the film release has escaped book lovers. I love it when the world of literature appears on the screen and cannot wait to see Glenn Close and Jonathan Pryce in The Wife, based on Meg Wolitzer's novel. Enough about literary films for now, let's continue with the '2017 Reading journal'.

№ 10 reading list (7 of 9):

· The Ballad of the Sad Café by Carson McCullers. There are some fine stories in this collection but the title story stands out: A novella with an air so thick you can almost touch it, touch the tension on the horizon. This quote says it all: 'This was not a fight to hash over and talk about afterwards; people went home and pulled the covers up over their heads.' The main character, Miss Amelia Evans, will permanently be etched on my memory.

· Patrick Modiano: Two books by the French novelist and Nobel laureate were on the list, Pedigree (translated by Mark Polizzotti) and In the Café of Lost Youth (translated by Euan Cameron). The former is the author’s personal story, about his parents. I didn't write down any quotes in my journal, only that the book felt sad. The latter immediately transported me to the streets of Paris. For me, Modiano's writing is more about mood than story. Reading him often feels like watching a film; he makes certain characters very vivid on the page without verbosity. The book I want to read next is The Occupation Trilogy.

· Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino. This short novel is one of those that isn't everyone's cup of tea. It didn't grab me on the first page but the more I read, the more I got hooked on the prose. It's a conversation between Marco Polo and the Mongolian ruler Kublai Khan. Polo is describing the cities he has visited, when in fact he is always describing the same city, Venice. (Translated by William Weaver.)

· Stoner by John Williams. I loved this book. Loved William Stoner but couldn't stand his wife, a character that pushed all my buttons. Stoner is a poor Missouri farm boy who enters university and discovers literature. Those scenes are the book's beauty, a thrill for bookworms. However, Stoner's life is filled with disappointments, so much so that it can drag the reader down. It might be the reason why the book wasn't a success, which is the subject of this interesting article that appeared in The New Yorker.

· Point Omega by Don DeLillo. This short novel went straight to the list of my favourite reads in 2017. I loved the writing; its texture. The story mainly takes place in the Californian desert and turns into a mystery when one of the characters disappears. I intend to buy myself a copy one day and read it again.

· Jigsaw: An Unsentimental Education by Sybille Bedford. It's not easy to write about this partly autobiographical novel in a few words. If you read it I find it likely that it will stay with you. Bedford grew up in Germany with her father and with her mother in Italy after his death. She was educated in England and spent the 1920s travelling between England and the south of France (her mother and stepfather had moved there to escape the rise of fascism). Despite being completely unreliable and flawed, her mother is a fascinating character with great interest in literature ('I must have read (with earnest marginal notes) and my mother re-read half of Balzac, most of Maupassant, some Zola ...'). In France, the family lived a cultural, bohemian life; their circle of friends included the Huxleys (Aldous Huxley was Bedford's mentor; she wrote his authorised biography). This is a coming-of-age story set between two world wars but it's so much more.

image by me, appeared on Instagram 27/06/2017

Reading journal 2017: Japanese literature I

In the coming weeks I intend to do my best to wrap up my '2017 Reading journal' and today I'm sharing my thoughts on the books that appeared on my first list of Japanese literature. It always gives me pleasure learning that my blog readers are actually using my lists as a guide to books; even more so when they have read and enjoyed them. I have already been asked when I will be sharing the second Japanese list and my reason for postponing it is the fact that I still haven't finished The Tale of Genji (see below). The draft of my second list contains The Pillow Book by Sei Shonagon, another classic from a lady of the court, and I want to finish Genji before I read that one. This means that my blog readers will have to wait a little longer.

№ 9 reading list:

· First Snow on Fuji by Yasunari Kawabata. During the reading, I had the feeling that my limited knowledge of Japanese culture stood in the way of me fully enjoying this collection of stories. I also felt that I first should have read some of Kawabata's novels (one will appear on my second Japanese list, and some day I will very likely return to this story collection). There were mainly three stories that appealed to me: 'Silence', 'Nature', and one that gives the book its title, 'First Snow on Fuji'. The Fuji one remains my favourite, about two former lovers who go on a trip together, where the mountain can be seen from the train window. (Translated by Michael Emmerich.)

· The Temple of the Golden Pavilion by Yukio Mishima. When I shared the list I was about halfway through the novel and told you about its repulsive protagonist. Mishima has turned into fiction the story of the monk who set fire to the Golden Pavilion back in 1950. I don't remember ever having been as repelled by a fictional character. I had no sympathy for the guy and the more I read, the more I loathed him. That is probably the book's brilliance. I cannot say it was a fun read. An interesting read would better describe my reading experience. (Translated by Ivan Morris.)

· Some Prefer Nettles by Jun'ichirō Tanizaki. A short novel about cultural conflicts, in which the old Japan meets the new. It gives you a glimpse into the Japanese puppet theatre. Apart from the ambiguous ending, I liked it, I liked the prose, but I wouldn't recommend it as an introduction to his work. The Makioka Sisters remains my favourite Tanizaki, and one of my all-time favourite books. (Translated by Edward G. Seidensticker.)

· The Tale of Genji by Murasaki Shikibu. On the reading list I had two translations and ended up buying the one by Edward G. Seidensticker, an Everyman's Library publication. As I said above, I haven't finished it. Not that it doesn't appeal to me, I simply felt I needed a reading companion to understand the world it describes. A long time ago, I enrolled in a world literature course that I didn't finish and Genji was on the curriculum. I realised I still had access to the lectures and material online so I decided to pause my reading. Unfortunately, the course didn't cover the book chapter for chapter, but the lectures gave me a better insight into its world. Now I like reading one or two chapters at a time and contemplate on them before continuing. The book is a mix of prose and poems and depicts ancient Japanese culture (the Heian era), the politics and society of the court. These customs were completely foreign to me, but now the book has begun to make more sense. I'm fascinated by how the characters communicate with poems - lovers, mainly - and the role of calligraphy. The work has so many botanical references and I often look them up online to see images of the plants.

· My Neighbor Totoro: The Novel by Tsugiko Kubo. This wonderful book for children (of all ages) contains the original illustrations by director Hayao Miyazaki (the Studio Ghibli animation was turned into a novel). If you are tired of, what I call, noisy children's books then I like to believe this one will surprise and delight you. It's the story of how the 11-year-old Satsuki and her sister Mei discover Totoro, a forest spirit with magical powers. (If noisy animations make you lose hope for humanity I can highly recommend the animation, My Neighbour Totoro (1988).)

Those who follow me on Instagram may have noticed some of my new books. Soon I will be sharing the № 14 reading list; I just need to visit the Bremen University Library to grab two works that I would like to be on it. To be honest, I get the feeling I will lose all self-control and borrow more than those two.

Reading journal 2017: Baldwin, Bandi, Bellow ...

My Reading journal posts, remember those? I have fallen behind with the blog (which gave me the idea to use my Instagram photos for this category). I'm just going to play my moving-to-Germany card. We are still navigating our new surroundings and getting used to the language. There have been good moments, but also frustrating ones and the occasional setbacks. Oh well, we will get there. Shortly after the move, our oldest returned to Scotland for school and I may have left part of my heart behind at the airport. Not that it was a dramatic scene, it simply hit me that one day the nest will be empty. (I could pull a Faust and make a pact with the devil, exchanging my soul for the kids choosing to go to university in the area when the time comes. The problem is I don't believe in its existence.) At Christmas the family will be reunited; ahead is leisure and good food (during a recent Skype moment I mentioned the presents and two of the kids responded: 'Mom, we don't care about the presents, we just want the food!'). Before the holidays I intend to share a reading list, a short one. Just have to find the time to take a photo.

>№ 8 reading list (5 of 8):

· The Accusation by Bandi. I gave this collection of stories, smuggled out of North Korea, a special mention when sharing the reading list. They still haunt me, especially one called 'City of Specters', which is the second story in the book. Every time North Korea is on the news - that would be every day - I'm reminded of these stories, of the injustice, the hopelessness, and inhuman conditions of its people.

· Another Country by James Baldwin. I knew he would become my new favourite author when I reached this character description on page 18: '[H]e had discovered that he could say it with a saxophone. He had a lot to say.' The moment one starts reading this book one picks up its rhythm. I read somewhere online that it was jazz and thought to myself, Jazz, that's it! The novel is set in the late 1950s, in Greenwich Village, NY. It's not for everyone (if you're a prude don't even think about reading it; I have to add you're missing out on a superb writing style), as it deals with daring themes such as affairs, homosexuality, bisexuality, and interracial relationships. Keep in mind it was published in 1962! I am ashamed to say that this was my first work by Baldwin. I had only read old interviews with him and magazine features citing his works and now I intend to read everything he has written, his fiction and essays.

· Seize the Day by Saul Bellow. My first Bellow, a memorable novella set in NY, which, honestly, didn't quite grab me from the start (I say this with the greatest respect for all his fans: during the reading, Bellow may perhaps have slightly paled by comparison to Baldwin, who had consumed my inner bookworm). It wasn't until after I had finished that the story kept popping up in my mind and I'm eager to read it again.

· The Blue Touch Paper by David Hare. A memoir I enjoyed reading, though some parts were more interesting than others. Often when reading memoirs the childhood part bores me (sometimes it's a lack of honesty on the author's part; sometimes an author paints a too rosy picture), which was not the case with Hare. Before reading the book, I knew nothing about his upbringing and he kept me reading with an entertaining and honest, or so I believe, account. The abundance of politics in the book may not appeal to everyone, but the London theatre scene becomes alive on its pages and the reader gets to share in Hare's triumphs, and failures.

· Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov. I didn't finish this one. Not my cup of tea. Here we have a fictional poet, Shade, who has written a long poem before his death. A neighbour and colleague, Kinbote, writes a long commentary on it and very soon the reader realises that Kinbote is way off. I lost my patience with Kinbote's commentary, with his delusion (it had nothing to do with the writing of Nabokov).

[As I have said before, in my 'Reading Journal' posts I don't comment on my rereads or on books already featured on the blog. Please visit separate blog entries for these two from the list: A World Gone Mad: The Diaries of Astrid Lindgren, 1939-45 and the novel Pachinko by Min Jin Lee.]

image by me, appeared on Instagram 29/07/2017

Reading journal 2017: Lessing, Athill, Borges ...

The other day I came across a fantastic word you won't find in a dictionary: readlief. It means when you finally get around to start a book you have been meaning to read for years. My reading lists have led to many readliefs. It's rewarding to cross a book off the list, more so when it's a good read. My to-read list doesn't get any shorter, though, as I'm constantly coming across books to add to it. The book lover's dilemma. Below I'm sharing some thoughts on books from my № 7 reading list, which I posted in February. I have created a new category for these kinds of blog entries that I call Reading journal (the year in the title indicates when that particular list appeared on the blog).

№ 7 reading list (6 of 9):

· Fictions by Jorge Luis Borges. This short story collection, described as original, is literary and philosophical, and not for everyone. I have never read anything like it. The first two stories didn't quite grab me but as soon I started the third one, I was hooked. That one is called 'Pierre Menard, Author of the Quixote' (appeared in the Argentine literary journal Sur in May 1939), about a man who rewrites Don Quixote by Cervantes, line-for-line. The idea is brilliant.

· The Grass is Singing by Doris Lessing. When I finished the book my first thought was: powerful. Since then I have heard other people use that same word about the book, which was Lessing's first novel, published in 1950. It starts with the murder of the main character Mary Turner and as you read on you learn about her background and what led to the tragedy, basically the disintegration of her life on a farm in Southern Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe). Lessing grew up there and masterfully describes the African landscape. It's been months since I finished the book and I'm still thinking about it. A good psychology study.

· The Golden Notebook by Doris Lessing. This one has become a classic but it's not for everyone. There were parts that I struggled with, parts that I found either repetitive or too long, and it took me quite some time to finish it. However, one cannot argue with the fact that this is an influential literary work. Its good parts have really stuck and I'm glad I finally took the plunge and turned it into a readlief.

· Captain Corelli's Mandolin by Louis De Bernières. I read somewhere that this was a novel with heart and that is exactly how I would describe it. The only thing that bothered me just slightly during the first 100 pages or so were the character introductions (each gets a chapter), which were unavoidable because the novel has so many. Bernières made up for them with delightful, and often comic, details, especially descriptions of life in the village (it takes place on a Greek island during WWII).

· Instead of a Book: Letters to a Friend by Diana Athill. I'm fond of reading letters but towards the end of this collection I was growing a bit weary. Athill and her friend were getting old and the later letters had too much talk about health issues, which is perfectly normal between close friends but isn't a fun read. She comments on this in the postscript and it's the reason she didn't include more letters in the book. Her work Stet is on my to-read list and I have heard nothing but praises, so perhaps you should consider starting with that one if you would like to read something by Athill.

· Local Souls by Allan Gurganus. I decided to postpone the reading. In my blog entry I wrote that I wanted to read his book Oldest Living Confederate Widow Tells All  before reading this one, and that is what I decided to do.

· In Montmartre: Picasso, Matisse and Modernism in Paris, 1900-1910 by Sue Roe. I'm not an art historian but I think this book was well researched. I found it interesting but I would have preferred more photos of the art pieces (I was constantly looking up the works in the text online to make sure I had the right ones in mind or to see the ones I didn't recognise). I enjoyed reading about Picasso, Matisse, and other artists but sometimes there were stories about people related to them that were of little importance for the narrative. Each time I came across these stories, more like snippets, I felt the book could have benefitted from another round of editing.

Have you experienced any recent readliefs?

Currently, I'm finishing the books on my № 8 reading list and will be writing two reviews, about Astrid Lindgren's war diaries, A World Gone Mad, and the novel Pachinko by Min Jin Lee.