True Love and High Adventure
Image hosted by Photobucket.comTrue Love and High Adventure
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"I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library."

Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Book 11: 1982, Janine by Alasdair Gray
This was part masturbatory fantasy, part moving story of thwarted love and blighted lives, and part angry reflection on the state of Scotland. The porny bits do inevitably make the biggest impression, which is unfortunate because they were the least appealing in a way. Maybe it's because I'm a female reader that I'm alienated by the presence of women as cardboard characters in a mental movie at best, objects of hate and fear at worst. Or maybe it was the supposedly erotic outfits that ruined things: denim/suede mini skirts with unfastened studs, white stillettos, dungarees, satin shirts with big buttons etc etc. I mean I know it was the eighties but please... Great writing elsewhere though and some typically brilliant typographical adventuring.

Book 12: The Trick Is To Keep Breathing by Janice Galloway
A much more modest novel but just as adventurous in its way: it's a simple but devastating portrait of grief and its shattering effects on a person's mind.


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Monday, February 07, 2005
I doubt I'm going to make it to the end of the day. It's Monday, I have a rotten cold, most of the rest of the department are off sick including both technicians which inevitably means that all the equipment will break down, and my Sunday was far from restful due to complicated family stuff and the almost total non-availability of a roast dinner at 5.30pm. Going home early means missing Japanese, which I can ill afford to do, but frankly the exploits of Bijii-san [Mr Busy] and his complicated travel arrangements are holding little attraction right now.

Book 10: The Man Who Hated Football by Will Buckley
Foolishly I selected this as an acceptable 'on the bus' read, on the strength that a) a quote on the back said it was 'mercilessly funny' and b) I had read the author's newspaper column once or twice and not felt the urge to set fire to things, which is my reaction to most weekend columnists. Alas, it was rubbish. Made a complete hash of the English language, narrative flow, character development, everything. And it wasn't funny, much less 'mercilessly' so.


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