Suggest-a-book
You’re a reader. You’ve arrived at a reader’s page. Perhaps you’ve browsed around and see that we may share a taste in books. Well, here is an opportunity to leave me (and others) a book suggestion. The comments are open!!
Elegant Hedgehogs & other French writings
I’ve been reading a lot in French lately.
[My that sounds pretentious. My apologies. I've been studying la belle langue for work, and my own pleasure, and I read. Seems logical]
Last fall, I read Ensemble, c’est tout by Anna Gavalda…a lovely story of 4 unlikely friends who find themselves sharing an elegant apartment in Paris for a time. It’s an absolutely lovely book, the characters are fascinating and realistic, and some moments will move you to tears. I mentioned it awhile ago on this blog, where the only thing I really said about it is that they’d made a movie out of it. I’ve since read the book and seen the movie — my suggestion? Forget the film. Find the book. The movie hits the bulk of the plot points without delving into the characters at all deeply — and the characters make the story truly live. (The English title chosen was Hunting and Gathering — odd.)
So then the book L’Élégance du hérisson by Muriel Barbery was recommended to me by my tutor. And I would like to thank her deeply for both (1) pointing me in the direction of this brilliant book and (2) assuming that my French was up to the high-brow erudition of this novel en français!
From the first chapter, first paragraph:
I live alone with my cat, a big lazy tom who has no distinguishing features other than the fact that his paws smell bad when he is annoyed. Neither he nor I make any effort to take part in the social doings of our respective kindred species. Because I am rarely friendly—though always polite—I am not liked, but am tolerated nonetheless: I correspond so very well to what social
prejudice has collectively construed to be a typical French concierge that I am one of the multiple cogs that make the great universal illusion turn, the illusion according to which life has a meaning that can be easily deciphered. And since it has been written somewhere that concierges are old, ugly and
sour, so has it been branded in fiery letters on the pediment of that same imbecilic firmament that the aforementioned concierges have rather large dithering cats who sleep all day on cushions that have been covered with crocheted cases.
(Source: the sample chapter on the US publisher’s site)
So there I was, reading this in French, marveling at the gorgeous sentence structure, and then I got bogged down and unfortunately had to put it aside. I found it in the wonderful English translation, and continued reading…and was not disappointed.
The publisher’s reading group guide is available, for those that enjoy filtering their reading through themes.
Any other suggestions pour des livres en français pour moi?
Les bouquinistes
Are you a book lover? A bibliophile? Do you get no greater joy out of life than browsing a used bookstore? Do your knees get weak at the thought of a library book sale?
Have you been to Paris yet?
The Parisiens know books, appreciate books. You’ve probably seen the pictures of the book stalls that line the Seine, in their ubiquitous green carts. These are les bouquinistes, the legendary booksellers of Paris:
They are part of the Paris legend. 217 booksellers spread out their 900 stands along the capital’s 11 quays, which represent a three kilometer walk. The onlookers pass by their sides, rummage through the famous green boxes, buy a book here and there, a poster, a vintage print. But who are these men and women who brave the wind, the cold and the rain? Winter is here, but they are still at the task. Enter into the biggest outdoor bookstore.
The quote above is a translation of an audio piece from La Guinguette — a very good online French journal. I want to put a plug in for them, as they have great products, and the audio is free to listen to. (You can download it if you subscribe.)
This article is a great example. this is not French for the beginner, instead it is the French as it is spoken in the streets. Read this article in the English translation, but also play it, to get the ambient sound of the Paris streets as bouquinistes are interviewed at their stalls.
I can almost picture where each stall is, as it’s described in the article. On our honeymoon, we rented an apartment next to the Seine, on the rive gauche, with green stalls outside our door…
And the French are wonderfully book mad. Here’s a picture of me paying 2 euro for a book at a vending machine:

Another way to access books!
Aim to Thrive
The advantage of having an active book fetish is that it attracts other bookish people, and their books.
I recently received a copy of Kathrin Lake’s new book From Survival to Thrival: How to catch the boat to y our successful, thriving life (even if you thought you’d missed it) from the author:
It’s a mouthful of a sub-title, but it reflects Kathrin’s chatty tone quite nicely. (I hope she doesn’t mind me calling her Kathrin…after reading her book, I feel like we’ve chatted more than just briefly through email.) The text does read like you’re having a sit over a cup of tea, and your wise friend keeps refilling your cup and feeding you very useful metaphors along with the plain spoken advice.
I’ve done my own share of self- and soul-searching over the years, and have delved into it all. I’ve read the weird and the wonderful, the odd and the inspiring…but I can say quite definitively that I have not read a self-help guide so down-to-earth.
The simplicity, no, the clarity of Lake’s advice is a bit disconcerting. Her ideas are not revolutionary or novel, just presented without the bells and whistles that jazz up the more colourful (and less credible?) presenters. This unadorned prose resonates with my own thinking and sits quite naturally with me.
As a linguist myself, I appreciate a woman who points out that the word success has other meanings…as in to come after in time or order or follow. And she asks the simple question: What if success were defined as progress, instead of a result? What if success were defined as not where you end up, but how you live your life every day?
What if we stopped keeping our self-praise and self-esteem building blocks for special occasions, like your mother’s good china, and let it out every day (the Good China Syndrome)?
The discussion on need vs. want sets up a very important distinction. It reminds me greatly of June Singer, a Jungian analyst and author, who discussed the difference between using a verb vs. a noun to describe your profession (in the brilliant book Boundaries of the Soul). Do you tie your work to who you are? Or to something you do? (Try it on for size: “I am a teacher” compared to “I teach” — if someone criticizes my teaching, my self is more at risk if it is part of my identity, instead of one of the things I do.)
I will stop here, and recommend that you visit her website — there’s lots to see!
Lori
“We were only loggers.”

Outside of Canada, even outside of the Maritimes, not much is known about the 1959 riot in Badger, Newfoundland. It might be something that a someone might have mentioned once, maybe in a discussion of strikes gone bad, a reminiscence from your old uncle perhaps.
But get your hands on a copy of The Badger Riot by J.A. Ricketts, published 2008 by Flanker Press in Newfoundland and you will never forget that little 1950s town where the 3 rivers meet.
Now, I got my copy from my buddy who is co-owner at Flanker Press. He’d been crowing about this book all over the Internet, so I stuck up my hand and said “Hey man, throw a copy my way!” (If you’ve been here before, you know I’m always up for a free book.) To be honest, my mouth started watering when I read the absolutely glowing review from the Globe and Mail, entitled A Lovely Labour of Death:
“The Badger Riot is, on the surface, a novel about an important event in Newfoundland labour history: a three-month loggers strike in Badger, led by the International Woodworkers of America (IWA).
But it is much more than a run-of-the-mill strike drama. The Badger Riot is also a vivid portrait, beautifully rendered, of Newfoundland in the 1950s. Ricketts fashions a scrapbook, sharing with the reader snapshots of the countryside, the people, the architecture, the smells and the history. Ricketts even captures the Newfoundland accents in the dialogue.”
So, as you can see, this is not a book to shy away because you think it’s likely to be dry history — it’s actually a riveting piece of fictionized history that will have you turning pages, caught up in the building tension. I heartily agree with the reviewer:
“A word of friendly warning: Once you start reading the last third of The Badger Riot , you will not be able to stop. Set aside plenty of time. The prose carries you from chapter to chapter like a bobsled.”
The author was one of the children who unwittingly witnessed the riot itself, standing on a snowbank at 14 years old with her friends…as the clarity of the descriptions can attest to. This is not some maudlin’, over-wrought prose — the language is spare and honest, with moving points-of-view to capture a feeling of the whole community.
A book 50 years in the making. Unfortunately, like a special dinner one slaves over for hours, it is devoured quickly.
Thank you, Jerry. It was delicious.
(*Astute readers will note that, yes, this is the first time I’ve used images in a post. I just discovered that WP has made it virtually idiot-proof!)
The Reviewer’s Plight
My faithful readers (all 3 of you!) will have noticed the lack of new posts recently. My apologies for that. It’s part laziness, part the pile of books I received for review a while ago.
Now, I’m an amateur reviewer…’amateur’ in the classic sense in that I don’t do it for money, but enjoy composing my little reviews for CBRA. Up until this last batch of books, all of the reviews I wrote sat in a hardbound annual in libraries across the country…likely very few people actually read them. Now, however, these reviews are going online, where they will (theoretically) be searchable by anyone looking for information on a given book.
And now I’m hesitant. When I blogged the list of books I received, I realized something I’d not thought about seriously before — the author may read my review of her/his book. Oh, I’m sure they did before, in the hardcover annual, but now, they truly will.
And they might respond.
In this day’n'age of tracking mentions of yourself/your book/your cause célébre online, I’m sure every single person attached to the books I received hit my blog.
Two responded.
This is exciting if you’re offering up praise. How every cool to be in touch with someone whose work you admire.
But what if the work is awful? What if it makes you cringe at the state of the book publishing industry in this country?
I will have to decide…to post my opinion, for good or for bad, as it is my opinion. Honest and true-as-I-see-it. It’s all I can do.
And I won’t ignore my blog anymore.
Thanks for listening.
Vampire Fiction: my take
NO, this is not a blog post about Twilight. Oh, spare me that agony. I did read the first book, lent to me by a co-worker, on a bus trip. It was a relatively fun, mindless 2 hours to the end of the book…but it was like eating cotton candy, absolutely no sustenance.
And it is not a post about Anne Rice, although I enjoyed her vampire books. I especially enjoyed the history of each vampire. Fun, sexy books.
Who I would like to talk about is the author Chelsea Quinn Yarbro. A good friend of mine intercepted me after the above-mentioned bus trip, told me, if you want vampire fiction, here is where to go. That was 2 months ago. She has since lent me 5 of Yarbro’s books, all of which I’ve devoured…but I’m only getting around to writing about them now. My apologies.
The website states the over-arching focus of the books much more succinctly than I ever could:
The books of the Saint-Germain Cycle combine historic fiction, romance, and horror and feature the heroic vampire first introduced in Hôtel Transylvania as Le Comte de Saint-Germain. In this initial novel, the character — cultured, well-traveled, articulate, elegant, and mysterious — appears in the court of France’s King Louis XV.
A ‘heroic vampire’ makes for a very readable series (of which I’ve only read 1/4…there are 20+ books so far!). Then, the conflict is in the human world around Saint- Germain as he maintains his life.
As Chelsea Quinn Yarbro explains:
The second level of questions arose from the relationship of vampires to humans — must the relationship be exploitative? And must humans abhor vampires? The more I thought about it, the more I thought it was worth trying to use a vampire as a metaphor for humanism: a person living an unnaturally long life might become alienated from humanity, as a means of avoiding the pain of spending most of your time saying permanent good-byes. Or it was just possible the vampire would, through his very alienation, seek to be part of human experience, which offered a great many more dramatic possibilities.
So, the books follow the efforts of the vampire Saint-Germain to live in each age. Of course, because of his accumulated wealth and knowledge, he finds himself embroiled in public life and that brings its own difficulties. The stories recount his activities in this public sphere, with any sucking of blood kept to the sidelines.
The most fascinating aspect of these books is that the horror and danger in a Saint-Germain novel come from the humans, not the vampire.
Any other Yarbro fans out there?
“Literary Soup” Literature
I’m in the middle of two books, and suddenly I feel like I’m reading one of those artsy-fartsy double features at your local, non-mainstream movie house. You know the ones, where there is a connection between the films, and it is your job as the audience to find it.
The most obscure one I ever came across was where the only link was an ice cream cone in each film. The most delightful was Robert LePage’s Le Confessional (1995) shown with Hitchcock’s I Confess (1953).
So, back to books.
I’m reading two books right now:
- the always erudite, sometimes terribly obscure Umberto Eco’s The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana (2005), and
- a first book by a young woman in the USA, Marisha Pessl’s Specialty Topics in Calamity Physics (Astute BookNook followers will recall that I blogged about the book’s amazing website here!)
While both books are utterly different in plot, character, setting, and genre they have in common a wonderful bookyness to them…they are both a literary soup of references that verge on the border of being overwhelming, but instead are almost inspiring in their bibliophilia.
Two different books, two utterly different characters, but both texts are littered with pop culture:
Eco, being a semiologist, does not really surprise us in this. His other books have been thick with historical references, illuminating his amazing well-readness. This time however, it is a plot point, as our protagonist is an older man suffering from amnesia who uses the books of his lifetime to rebuild his lifeline. The references this time are both classical and current, albeit the focus of the current is on Italian modern history and corresponding pop culture.
Pessl, a young woman writing her first novel, holds her own in general bookyness in comparison to the towering Eco. The character, Blue van der Meer, is not quite 18 but is an astoundingly well-read genius, being the daughter of a rather eccentric, nomadic, genius professor father. As she navigates the teen hell of a yet another new school, her every thought is a literary or pop culture reference, at times against her will. Despite how ponderous that sounds, it is a delightful read, and un-put-down-able once you really get rolling.
I need more books of this genre (is it a meta- or sub-genre?). Any suggestions?
