№ 29 reading list: Woolf starts the new year

Happy New Year! This week I realised that I completely forgot my New Year's tradition, reading Little Women into the new year. This tradition started in Scotland; I used to read a few pages or chapters into the new year while others were letting off fireworks or whatever entertains them, but this year I watched the fireworks with my son. I made up for my forgetfulness by watching Greta Gerwig's film adaptation (2019), starring Saoirse Ronan, Florence Pugh and Timothée Chalamet. It's great. On New Year's Day morning, I relaxed on the daybed in pyjama bottoms and kimono with coffee and the fourth volume of Virginia Woolf's diary, which starts in 1931. It's on my new reading list.

№ 29 reading list:

1  My Brilliant Friend  · Elena Ferrante
2  The Diary of Virginia Woolf, Volume 4 1931-35 
3  Mrs Dalloway  · Virginia Woolf [rereading]
4  Mythos: The Greek Myths Retold  · Stephen Fry
5  Wittgensteins Neffe: Eine Freundschaft  · Thomas Bernhard [German]
6  Póetík í Reykjavík: Erindi 14 höfunda  [Icelandic]
7  Living on Paper: Letters from Iris Murdoch 1934-1995  · edited by Avril

Horner and Anne Rowe

Translated by: 1) My Brilliant Friend: Ann Goldstein

The list has undergone many changes. Stephen Fry and the Icelandic book (14 literary essays) are the only works that were on the original one, which I meant to share last autumn. I don’t know why it took so long to put this one together, probably a mixture of being busy with my studies and restlessness. I read a few pages, even a few chapters, in a book that I wanted to have on the list only to put that same book aside a short time later. Wanting to read a book is sometimes not enough for me, the time and place have to be right.

I found many wonderful books under the Christmas tree which will appear on lists in the near future. I gave myself a few, e.g. used books that have never been read. Among these are the first two books of the Neapolitan Quartet by Elena Ferrante, the pseudonymous Italian writer. I also bought the Everyman's Library edition of The Makioka Sisters by the Japanese writer Jun'ichirō Tanizaki (№ 6). It's one of my all-time favourite books.

Richard Diebenkorn, Untitled, 1949

images by me | Diebenkorn art via fan page on Twitter

Virginia Woolf – ‘darling dangerous woman‘

Last year I fell for this cover of Mrs Dalloway you can see in the picture. So much so that I ordered a used copy that looked like new, which never arrived. To make up for it, I decided to buy a new copy for myself as a Christmas present, but I couldn't bring myself to gift wrap it, even though I had already read the book. Instead, Virginia Woolf's novel became my second lockdown book, with Iris Murdoch's Letters.

It so happens that Murdoch mentions Woolf in a letter she writes on Christmas Eve in 1941:

The trouble is, I have been reading Virginia Woolf, the darling dangerous woman, and am in a state of extremely nervous self-consciousness. The most selfish of all states to be in.

‘Darling dangerous woman‘ – love this description.

Each time I reread Woolf it comes more apparent to me how talented she was. The details in her writing, the way she observes people and their behaviour, are extraordinary. I enjoy reading her diaries and often reach for the volumes on my shelves. In her diary, 19 June 1923, Woolf has this to say about the writing of Mrs Dalloway (its working title was The Hours):

But now what do I feel about my writing?—this book, that is, The Hours, if thats its name? One must write from deep feeling, said Dostoevsky. And do I? Or do I fabricate with words, loving them as I do? No I think not. In this book I have almost too many ideas. I want to give life & death, sanity & insanity; I want to criticise the social system, & to show it at work, at its most intense— But here I may be posing.

Yesterday I shared the pic on Instagram with a similar caption but I wanted to keep these quotes on the blog as well. We are still in lockdown which is supposed to end on the 17th of December. Yesterday, other Austrian states lifted most restrictions but this latest wave was severer in Upper Austria and we knew that our lockdown would last longer.

image mine, appeared on Instagram 12/12/21

Books in lockdown

On Friday I walked to the post office to pick up a tome, about seven hundred pages of Iris Murdoch's letters, Living on Paper: Letters from Iris Murdoch 1934-1995. Initially, I bought it to put under the Christmas tree, a gift from me to myself, but instead, it will be my lockdown book. A book with a role.

Tomorrow Austria goes into lockdown due to a surge in COVID cases. It's safe to say that the mood is peculiar these days; I believe I’m not the only one dealing with lockdown weariness. I had been looking forward to finishing this term in early December, strolling the decorated streets of Linz, and spending time in bookshops and snug cafés. We can expect everything to reopen sometime before Christmas, meaning the city centre will be crowded, which I do not care for despite being vaccinated. One advantage of a lockdown is the ample time for pleasure reading and cosiness at home. A decent stack of books awaits me so I cannot complain.

With lots of unread books on my shelves, there will be no shortage of books in this lockdown. Recently I was in a bookshop and bought two German ones, including Medea. Stimmen by Christa Wolf (1929-2011). I have never read her work. I was in the mood for Greek mythology because during coffee breaks this autumn I have kept Mythos by Stephen Fry within reach. What a fun read, he's so witty. I have also been reading a new collection of Icelandic literary essays, Póetík í Reykavík: Erindi 14 höfunda. This publication celebrates the 10th anniversary of Reykjavik being a UNESCO City of Literature. One of the authors was so kind to send me a copy unexpectedly. These books will be on my next reading list, which I have been postponing to share on the blog.

A classic study break with veggie pasta

The entrance of Alex - Eine Buchhandlung

One bookshop I like is called Alex Buchhandlung, located at Der Linzer Hauptplatz, a large square close to the main bridge over the Danube River. It's a small bookshop with a vast selection of German books. I almost bought there a Fischer edition of Franz Kafka's diaries but thought to myself that my German might not be good enough to truly enjoy it. I decided to wait until I had read his stories The Judgement and Metamorphosis, which have been sitting on my shelves. I read an Icelandic translation of the latter ages ago but I have yet to read Kafka in German.

images mine, the 1st, 2nd and 5th appeared on Instagram 19/11/21; 15/11/21; 02/10/21

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

№ 11 reading list: Middle Eastern and crime fiction

Sunday morning coffee, a new reading list and Gilead by novelist Marilynne Robinson. Take my word for it, it's an excellent start of the day. July hasn't finished and already I'm presenting a new list, the second in one month. The reason is simple: there were many short books on the last one. The new list has a taste of the Middle East. For years I have wanted to read Palace Walk, the first book in the Cairo trilogy by Egyptian author and Nobel Laureate Naguib Mahfouz. Another first for me is the Israeli author Ayelet Gundar-Goshen. A fellow lover of literature on Instagram recommended her second novel Waking Lions (translated from Hebrew by Sondra Silverston) and gave three reasons: 1) It takes place in Beersheba (Beer-Sheva), which, according to him, is unheard of in Israeli literature. 2) It's the perfect setting for the characters, living on the margins of society. 3) The story sheds some light on racism in Israel; it revolves around Eritrean and Sudanese refugees. I was sold and luckily my library had a copy when I picked up the new novel by Arundhati Roy.

№ 11 reading list:
1  The Ministry of Utmost Happiness  by Arundhati Roy
2  Palace Walk  by Naguib Mahfouz
3  Waking Lions  by Ayelet Gundar-Goshen
4  The Black Prince  by Iris Murdoch
5  Gilead  by Marilynne Robinson
6  So You Don't Get Lost in the Neighbourhood  by Patrick Modiano
7  The Redbreast  by Jo Nesbø
8  Instead of a Letter  by Diana Athill
9  Let's Explore Diabetes with Owls  by David Sedaris

I am still reading Jigsaw by Sybille Bedford that was on my last reading list but I have already finished The Redbreast by the Norwegian Jo Nesbø on the new one. At some point this third book about Detective Harry Hole (the first in the Oslo series) became a page-turner and I couldn't put it down. Crime fiction isn't exactly my go-to genre but occasionally I have read everything available by a particular crime author (mainly the Nordic authors; it all started many years ago with the Icelander Arnaldur Indridason and his Detective Erlendur). Nesbø's Harry Hole is an interesting character and I intend to see what happens in Nemesis, the next book in the series.

I have started reading Sedaris but had to stop reading it before bedtime because my son, who likes to read with me, was unable to concentrate on his book because of my laughing. This is tears-running-down-your-face laughter. I tried to stifle it but it didn't work. Sedaris is, simply put, dangerously funny and I cannot wait to pick up his Diaries. Marilynne Robinson is an author I'm revisiting; I read Home when we lived in Luxembourg. I don't understand why it has taken me so long to pick up Gilead (both books take place in the same period and town, also her work Lila). The prose of Gilead is beautiful; no wonder it brought her the National Book Critics Circle Award and the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 2005.

I would like to finish with a quote by author Iris Murdoch (1919-1999) that I have already shared on Instagram and wanted to keep on the blog as well. Asked about her method of composition in an interview that appeared in the summer 1990 issue of The Paris Review, Murdoch replied:

Well, I think it is important to make a plan before you write the first sentence. Some people think one should write, George woke up and knew that something terrible had happened yesterday, and then see what happens. I plan the whole thing in detail before I begin. I have a general scheme and lots of notes. Every chapter is planned. Every conversation is planned. This is, of course, a primary stage, and very frightening because you've committed yourself at this point ... [Moving on to the second stage.] The deep things that the work is about declare themselves and connect. Somehow things fly together and generate other things, and characters invent other characters, as if they were all doing it themselves. (Issue 115, Summer 1990)

№ 8 reading list: North Korean stories by Bandi

The first day of spring calls for a new reading list, wouldn't you agree? Three publishing houses, Head of Zeus (Apollo), Pushkin Press and Serpent's Tail, provided the first three books on the list and for that I thank them. I will later be reviewing the novel Pachinko and A World Gone Mad, Swedish author Lindgren's WWII diaries (known for her children's books), but today I want to specially mention a unique North Korean story collection, The Accusation by Bandi (pseudonym). The author, unknown to us, still lives in North Korea and risked his life by writing and smuggling his work out of the country (see more below). Here is my № 8 reading list:

1  Pachinko  by Min Jin Lee
2  A World Gone Mad: The Diaries of Astrid Lindgren, 1939-45 
3  The Accusation  by Bandi
4  Seize the Day  by Saul Bellow
5  The Blue Touch Paper  by David Hare
6  Another Country  by James Baldwin
7  Pale Fire  by Vladimir Nabokov
8  The Sea, The Sea  by Iris Murdoch

Seize the Day is my first Saul Bellow read - about time! An Instagram bookworm-friend called it 'an incredible novel' and added 'it's haunted me most of my adult life.' I meant to start with Herzog but it wasn't available at the library. Playwright David Hare is on my list of favourite people. Listening to him talk about writing is a pure pleasure and now I'm finally going to read his memoir. He e.g. wrote the screenplay for the film The Hours (2002), based on the book by Michael Cunningham. Loved the book, loved the film. There is one reread on the list: The Sea, The Sea by Murdoch. I was probably too young when I read it because I don't seem to remember half of it.

Forbidden stories from inside North Korea: The Accusation by Bandi

The Accusation by Bandi contains seven stories about ordinary men and women in North Korea. The author is unknown: Bandi is a pseudonym (means firefly in Korean) and to protect his identity some details have been changed. In a note from the publisher it says they 'believe it to be an important work of North Korean samizdat literature and a unique portrayal of life under a totalitarian dictatorship.' Apart from the news, what we have read so far are works by people who have escaped from the regime. What makes this book unique is that for the first time we have stories written by an author still living there. Instead of a preface and acknowledgements, there are untitled poems by the author, who describes himself thus in one line in the former: 'Fated to shine only in a world of darkness'. The latter has a poem, in which he begs to be read:

Fifty years in this northern land
Living as a machine that speaks
Living as a human under a yoke
Without talent
With a pure indignation
Written not with pen and ink
But with bones drenched with blood and tears
Is this writing of mine

Though they be dry as a desert
And rough as a grassland
Shabby as an invalid
And primitive as stone tools
Reader!
I beg you to read my words.

If only the entire world would read these stories and that one day Bandi would be able to enjoy the royalties as a free man. I haven't finished the book but what I have read so far is heartbreaking. The social and political circumstances in North Korea, the lack of human rights, are known to us, but when reading stories by someone living in these conditions, suddenly, it becomes all too painfully real.

The Accusation
By Bandi
Serpent's Tail
Hardcover, 256 pages
Buy here

Utagawa Hiroshige, A Red Plum Branch against the Summer Moon, c. mid-1840s,
colour woodblock print

My next reading list will be the Japanese one I have mentioned more than once. Therefore, I chose to include this painting by Japanese artist Utagawa Hiroshige (also Andō Hiroshige, 1797-1858). Blooming trees in spring, mon dieu! Soon I will be sipping my latte on the patio and reading under the pink blossoms of a cherry tree ... a quality moment in the life of a book lover.

images by me | Utagawa Hiroshige art via The Art Institute of Chicago | first three books on the list provided by these publishers: Head of Zeus (Apollo), Pushkin Press and Serpent's Tail