№ 30 reading list: Proust in spring

Spring has arrived and it's time to update the blog with a new reading list. I shared the last one in January but in my defence, I'm more active on my Instagram account with book-related content. For over a decade I have wanted to read Marcel Proust’s masterpiece In Search of Lost Time (À la recherche du temps perdu) and recently bought the 1st volume of 4 by Everyman’s Library. The novel has seven parts and this volume contains Swann's Way (Du côté de chez Swann), which most are familiar with, and the first part of Within a Budding Grove (À l'ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs). I’m only a few pages in and am already captivated by the narrative voice and the rich prose. Proust in spring will be a gratifying pastime.

№ 30 reading list:

1  Essays Two  · Lydia Davis
2  Swann's Way  · Marcel Proust
3  What I Loved  · Siri Hustvedt
4  Der Untergeher  · Thomas Bernhard [German]
5  The Makioka Sisters  · Jun'ichirō Tanizaki [rereading]

Translated by: 1) Swann's Way: C. K. Scott Moncrieff and Terence Kilmartin;

5) The Makioka Sisters: Edward G. Seidensticker

Reading Essays Two spurred me on to read Proust. Lydia Davis translated the latest available English edition of Swann's Way and discusses the project in some of the essays. (The Moncrieff translation I’m reading is older but has been updated.) These essays are my first Davis and I’m also reading Siri Hustvedt’s fiction for the first time. A fun fact: Hustvedt has been married to American writer Paul Auster (4 3 2 1, The New York Trilogy) for forty years who before was married to Davis.

I have mentioned before that each time I’m disappointed with a book and decide to toss it I reread one of my favourite books. On my last list, I had My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante, the first book of her Neapolitan Quartet. I truly made an effort but gave up on Chapter 20. Neither the plot nor the characters appealed to me, and the style felt repetitive. To make it up to me I decided to reread The Makioka Sisters, a Japanese classic by Tanizaki. Before going to sleep, it's comforting to spend some time in the company of the Sisters.

Richard Diebenkorn, Untitled, 1981

image by me | Diebenkorn art via Richard Diebenkorn Foundation on Instagram

№ 18 reading list: Japanese literature II

New Year, new Japanese reading list, finally. Some of you have been waiting for this one. I had nailed down the list but had to make a couple of adjustments, as two English translations of books I wanted to read now were unavailable at the library; they will be on the third one. The Pillow Book by Sei Shonagon is, like The Tale of Genji which was on the first, a classic by a Japanese lady of the court, written around the year 1000, during the Heian period in Japanese history. I know of an English translation by Ivan Morris, published in 1967, but I'm reading a newer one by Meredith McKinney, published by Penguin Classics.

№ 18 reading list:
1  The Pillow Book  by Sei Shonagon
2  No Longer Human  by Osamu Dazai
3  Scandal  by Shusaku Endo
4  The Old Capital  by Yasunari Kawabata
5  Quicksand  by Junichiro Tanizaki
6  Death in Midsummer and Other Stories  by Yukio Mishima
7  Lost Japan  by Alex Kerr

Translated by, in this order: 1) Meredith McKinney; 2) Donald Keene; 3) Van C. Gessel;

4) J. Martin Holman; 5) Howard Hibbett; 6) Edward G. Seidensticker, Ivan Morris et al.;

7) Alex Kerr and Bodhi Fishman.

The blog post title says Japanese literature but this time I had to add one non-fiction to the list, Lost Japan by Alex Kerr, originally written in Japanese. You may have seen it on my Instagram. It was a Christmas present from my oldest, who also gave me Edward W. Said's Orientalism. She chose well, right? Most of the books on the list are relatively short - I have almost finished three - so you can expect me sharing another reading list at the beginning of February.

Happy New Year!

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.

№ 9 reading list: Japanese literature I

Months ago the idea of a Japanese reading list started sprouting in my mind, and once I began writing down authors and titles in my pocket notebook I realised that there would be more than one list. Despite the word snow appearing in one of the titles below, it somehow felt right to ease into the summer reading Japanese literature. This first list is slightly shorter than intended, for the simple reason that one of the books I ordered hasn't arrived and at the last minute I decided not to include two works by the same author. It means that a novel by Yasunari Kawabata, who received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1968, will appear on the next list. My blog readers will recognise Tanizaki, but his novel The Makioka Sisters was on an earlier list. I love the fact that at least one blog reader read and enjoyed it as much as I did.

№ 9 reading list:
1  First Snow on Fuji  by Yasunari Kawabata
2  The Temple of the Golden Pavilion  by Yukio Mishima
3  Some Prefer Nettles  by Jun'ichirō Tanizaki
4  The Tale of Genji  by Murasaki Shikibu *
5  The Tale of Genji  by Murasaki Shikibu **
6  My Neighbor Totoro: The Novel  by Tsugiko Kubo ***

Translated by: * Edward G. Seidensticker; ** Dennis Washburn

*** Illustrated by Hayao Miyazaki

As you can see, there are two unabridged editions of The Tale of Genji and I still haven't decided which one to read. The Washburn translation is a new paperback edition by W. W Norton & Co, the other an Everyman's Library edition. I'm trying to order the translation by Seidensticker through my local library, which is the main reason I have postponed sharing the list. If it fails to arrive I'm not sure at this point which one I will purchase. On my Instagram account you may have noticed that I'm already reading The Temple of the Golden Pavilion by Mishima. He fictionalised the story of the monk who in 1950 set fire to the Golden Pavilion of Kyoto, erected in the 15th century (the American airplanes spared the temples during the war). This was a shocking event. During the trial the young monk said he was protesting against the commercialisation of Buddhism. However, scholar Donald Keene writes in the introduction that 'he may have been directly inspired by nothing more significant than pique over having been given a worn garment when he had asked the Superior of the temple for an overcoat'! I'm more than halfway through the book with the pavilion still standing, and troubling the mind of the rather repulsive protagonist.

Have you seen the animation My Neighbour Totoro (1988) by Hayao Miyazaki? It's one of the Japanese favourites in our home. Last year my son and I were sitting at the café of our local Waterstones when he spotted the book on a shelf. We didn't even know it existed and learned then and there that the film had been turned into a novel, featuring Miyazaki's illustrations. It's a beautiful book and of course we walked out of the bookshop with a purchased copy. My son loved reading the story and now it's my turn.

A last sentence by Tanizaki | Virginia Woolf

I don't know about you but in bookshops I often find myself reading the first sentence of a book or its first paragraph; never the last sentence, as it could give away the ending, but I know people who do. In January I finished reading The Makioka Sisters by the Japanese writer Jun'ichirō Tanizaki (1886-1965), translated by Edward G. Seidensticker (an Everyman's Library edition). Without giving away its plot, I have to share with you the book's last sentence: 'Yukiko's diarrhea persisted through the twenty-sixth, and was a problem on the train to Tokyo.'

Do you need to read it again? I did.

Usually when I finish reading a book I contemplate on the characters, plot, theme, etc., and perhaps write a few lines in my notebook. This time my mind was going, Okay, is there a chapter missing? Is this the ending? I honestly turned the book upside down - I believe I even shook it gently - in the attempt to find that missing final chapter. And when I realised that this was it, this was indeed the last sentence, I just burst out laughing. This is the single most memorable last sentence I have ever come across.

I'm still looking at that page and laughing; this last sentence is so unexpected.

The prose of The Makioka Sisters is very calm (during the reading I told friends it often felt like meditation). I don't remember a book with such a quiet prose. It's quite long, divided into three books, but I enjoyed it. Basically, it's about the search of the Makioka family for a husband for the third sister so they can marry off the fourth and youngest, who already has a suitor. The theme is like any Jane Austen novel but the style is completely different. It's an interesting social study of Japan, its culture and customs, in a certain era: It starts in 1936 and ends in April 1941; Europe is already at war but the attack on Pearl Harbor hasn't happened. When you finish reading the book you know that there are major changes ahead.

The Makioka Sisters was on my № 6 reading list and I told you then that I was noting down ideas for a Japanese list. On that one you will find The Tale of Genji by Murasaki Shikibu, a Japanese classic from the 11th century, often referred to as the world's first novel, translated by Tanizaki into modern Japanese. On the list you will also find Tanizaki's Some Prefer Nettles - I won't tell you more until I share it.

From a Virginia Woolf feature, 'Bloomsbury & Beyond', Harpar's Bazaar UK, March 2017, pp. 324-25

You may already have seen the Vanessa Bell feature I shared on Instagram last week, from the March 2017 issue of Harper's Bazaar UK. It's been months since I last bought a fashion magazine but almost ran to the shop when I learned that the cultural section of this one included both Bell and her sister Virginia Woolf. The Woolf feature is called 'Bloomsbury & Beyond' and opens with a photo of her desk at Monk's House, her home in Sussex (spotted in my top image), and ends with her short story The Lady in the Looking Glass, which appeared in the magazine's January 1930 issue. An inexpensive Penguin edition of The Lady in the Looking Glass also includes her stories A Society, The Mark on the Wall, Solid Objects, and Lappin and Lapinova. The last one appeared in the April 1939 issue, which you can spot in the top-left corner of my image above. If short stories are your thing I believe all the ones by Woolf are available online.

images by me | credit: Harper's Bazaar UK, March 2017 · Harry Cory Wright | map of France from the book Map Stories: The Art of Discovery by Francisca Mattéoli (Octopus Publishing Group) © Bibliothèque Nationale de France

№ 6 reading list | Literary postcards

'Give me books, fruit, French wine, fine weather and a little music.' These lines by John Keats are on a postcard in front of me. It's an Obvious State design, a creative studio that makes paper goods and items for the literary-minded. Searching for a Christmas present for the book lover? Your search will end in their online shop that offers notebooks, bookmarks, tote bags and more. They are even offering a holiday discount. I received four postcards in the mail, a surprise gift for adding their #osfall tag to one of my bookish photos on Instagram, the one related to my early autumn reading list. Speaking of reading lists, it's time for the last one of 2016.

When you have like a thousand books on your to-read and wish lists it's not easy to prioritise them, but I'm certain to find the first two on the list under the tree after dinner on Christmas Eve (that's when we open the presents; a Nordic tradition). I wanted to give a nod to some bookish blogger for recommending Carrión's book but I lost the link when my hard drive crashed some weeks ago. Carrión has written an extended essay about why bookshops matter and takes his reader on a journey around the world, visiting various bookshops such as Shakespeare & Company in Paris, Strand in NYC and Librairie des Colonnes in Tangier, just to name a few. James Wood is a staff writer and book critic at The New Yorker and his book is a blend of memoir and criticism. Here is my last list of 2016:

1  Bookshops  by Jorge Carrión
2  The Nearest Thing to Life  by James Wood
3  The Makioka Sisters  by Jun'ichirō Tanizaki
4  The Noise of Time  by Julian Barnes
5  All We Shall Know  by Donal Ryan
6  A Man in Love: My Struggle 2  by Karl Ove Knausgård
7  Boyhood Island: My Struggle 3  by Karl Ove Knausgård
8  The Return: Fathers, Sons and the Land in Between  by Hisham Matar

In my notebook I had started writing down ideas for a Japanese reading list to share later. Tanizaki's book has been on my list for so long and I just couldn't wait any longer when I realised I could order a copy at the library. I still haven't finished Zadie Smith's works from my last list but I'm already reading the books by Barnes and Ryan. The latter is an Irish author that I only discovered recently and I like his writing style. I cannot wait to continue reading Karl Ove Knausgård's autobiographical novels. When I finished his first My Struggle book I wanted to go straight to the library to borrow the next. All the good things that have been written and said about it turned out to be true and I believe the next two will live up to my expectations. I'm looking forward to picking up The Return, a memoir by the Libyan novelist Hisham Matar. He was only nineteen when his father was kidnapped in Libya, then under the rule of Gaddafi, and probably died in prison in Tripoli. I read Matar's novel In the Country of Men many years ago. I no longer remember it in details but I remember being moved by it.

I enjoy connecting with my blog readers and it's always wonderful to receive an email from a perfect stranger who has been following the blog (some prefer emails to comments and that's fine) and perhaps loved a book I shared. Since I started sharing my reading lists I have received a few emails with questions like: Did you like this book? Will you write a review about this one? In my replies I have said that the reading lists are mainly there for my love of books; to give my blog readers ideas for reading. I have no intention of writing a review about every single book on my lists. Clearly, some readers are curious about or interested in knowing my thoughts so perhaps from now on I will write just a few lines in the comment section of each list when I'm done. Let me think about it.

With a few exceptions, I have enjoyed the books on my 2016 lists. Perhaps I will put those thoughts into words in a separate a post. Let me think about that as well.

And one reader asked what's my favourite reading spot. I have a few but these days I have been reading a lot in the dining room while enjoying long lunch. I snapped a photo recently of a common scenario: On that day it was pasta, today it was hummus and pitta bread.