I'm in a leisurely reading mood at the moment.
As well as Jean Baggott's The Girl on the Wall, I'm still meandering very slowly through The New House by Lettice Cooper for the next dovegreyreader & Cornflower Persephone tea and still have the new David Mitchell The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet chugging alongside The Concert Ticket by Olga Grushin...same as last week. I may set aside David Mitchell for a while, it's brilliant, fast-moving and dazzling but I am just not in the mood to be dazzled right now.
I've also been reading Kimbofo's choice for this Sunday's NTTVBG The Illusionist by Jennifer Johnston, so not a word about that before Sunday.
I've added in a work-related memoir, An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination by Elizabeth McCracken, about the loss of her baby at birth, which is matched up with Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking in the cover blurb. All too sad and challenging for many I know, but as I sit and 'listen' to real parents' experiences of a baby born sleeping, in amongst all the other sadness of life, four mornings a week now it can really help to find books like this and gain some new perspectives.
Of this book Alice Sebold says
' By the end of this memoir you will have held a beautiful child in your hands and you will have acknowledged him. This book is an extraordinary gift to us all.'
A few new arrivals have caught my eye as usual and perhaps it's going to be A Dangerous Year for Boys on this year's Booker longlist?
New novels from Martin Amis, David Mitchell, Peter Carey (this one looks good) a new one from Robert Edric, Salvage, which I plan to read carefully because I know I did his writing a huge disservice last time round in my brash young blog days of the first Bookerthon.
And now the latest Ian McEwan, Solar.
I'll own up that I don't greet them with the same degree of enthusiasm reserved for a new Byatt, Waters or Mantel but I'll be giving them all a go and I do have high hopes for some of them.
Solar, before I even get near the content, has a very interesting touchy-feely cover.
If you see it in a bookshop, just discreetly go and stroke that cover and see what you think.
Most odd but apparently we're in for womanising Nobel Prize-winning physicists so who knows what's in store.
There's a new book from Joanne Harris too, blueyeyedboy, and the title seems to be written like that, lowercasenospaces.
Right, I'll now confess that I haven't read Chocolat or even seen the film, so I'll just step back from the explosion of 'You musts' whilst adding that I tried Blackberry Wine and couldn't get on with it at all.
I'm also very taken with a book that would seem to follow on nicely from Helen Rappaport's Beautiful For Ever and fits my current preference for some non-fiction, Wild Romance The True Story of a Victorian Scandal by Chloe Schama, also indexed and referenced, which I always like.
Recounting the flirtation, secret affair and subsequent marriage of nineteen-year old Theresa Longworth and William Yelverton (later the Viscount of Avonmore) and the trials that ensued providing juicy scandal and yet more fodder for the novels of Wilkie Collins.
But there really is nothing to beat one of Adele Geras's 'Best Book Ever' emails, I love them and always follow them up because Adele is never wrong. So this message arrived at about 11pm one evening and by 11.03pm I had ordered the book and it's here,
Good to a Fault by Marina Endicott, Canadian, Giller listed, won the Commonwealth Writers' Prize for Best Book and then slipped right off my radar, so my thanks to Adele.
Well that's me, how's your bookish week been?