...or, in English, Those Who Are Going to Die Salute You. Henri Valhubert is shown a never-before-seen work by Michaelangelo, and he suspects it's been stolen from the Vatican's library. In Rome, his longtime friend is a Monsignor there, his wife visits Rome frequently, and his son and his two friends - who go by the names of emperors, Claudius, Tiberius and Nero - also live there. Well, Henri goes to investigate where this art came from, and you know that never goes well. Soon enough he's dead, and a guy named Valence is called in to find out who killed him.
Fred Vargas is a pseudonym; the woman writer is a researcher in history and archeology. She's written a whole series with Valence solving murders, and it's Catherine's favorite book series. (Catherine, the mother of my French family.) She's long told me I should read them so when I was there in November I bought this one, which is the first in the series. I proudly showed it to her, knowing she'd be excited; she looked at it and said, essentially, "No, that won't do at all." I was dumbfounded. "That one is not the best. It's not my favorite. And it doesn't have the supporting characters whom I love and who appear in a lot of the books. I'll take care of this." And a few days later, we go off to the bookstore, where she buys her two favorites for me.
Now, my borderline-autistic/OCD side automatically kicks in. "Isn't that other one the first in the series though?"
"Oui," she answers. "But these are the best." Apparently she doesn't understand that I can't just read books out of order! It's...it's...unthinkable!
This one was the first in the series and thus I went in knowing that it's not Catherine's favorite. I have to say, though, that I enjoyed it! It's a relatively short read at 189 pages. And it was more complex than I thought it would be, with art thieves, smuggling and other things. And it didn't come together the way I thought it would, which is kind of cool. So now...I have two more by Fred Vargas that I'll read at some point, even though they aren't 2 and 3 in the series...
UPDATE: Later that same evening...
I sort of lied above. Okay, I didn't actually lie. I presented the information as I had it in my head. That's not lying, is it? But after further research - which perhaps I should have done before I wrote the entry - I have learned that I am incorrect with some of my information. So I didn't really lie. I did really accidentally shoplift a magazine from Wegman's this past weekend, but that's another story and it really was completely accidental. I swear. Anyway...
So this detective guy, Valence, is only in this one novel. And Catherine got me three other novels, not two. One is with her favorite detective, Adamsberg, and the other two are in the "Three Evangelists" series - I think those are the other characters she loves. Now I'm all confused about it though. So I'll just have to read them (at some point, as I slowly make my way through my shelf of unread books) and figure it out!
Monday, March 29, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Flatland - Edwin A. Abbott
So I had no interest in reading this book, and really had never heard of it. But then I bought this app for my iPhone called Classics - it's the full text of about two dozen books, all for 99 cents. Well, how can you beat that? Right there on my phone! I scrolled through them and recognized most of them, and then there was this Flatland. Interested because it's a "classic" and I'd never heard of it, I decided to give it a whirl. And it was pretty interesting!
It's essentially the story of a square who lives in a two-dimensional world, and he explains his world to the reader, living in a three dimensional world. Then he explains how he visited some other worlds, including the three dimensional world. Essentially, in this flatland world, women are a straight line and men have more than two sides. The more sides someone has, the higher their social class. I liked that it was a really very different type of novel told from a very different point of view.
What makes it a classic? I had no idea, so I googled it. Of course. And apparently it was written in 1884 as a satire of Victorian England and its class structure. And now I can see that. Plus apparently it's still read for its mathematical parts, talking about sides and angles and things like that.
All in all, it was an interesting read. I didn't love it, but I didn't hate it. It got me thinking, though, of electronic readers. There's the Amazon Kindle, the Barnes & Noble Nook and the Sony Reader that I know of. And then I saw a guy on the plane last week with one. Part of why I think I wouldn't like one is that it doesn't feel like holding a book, I wouldn't think. But the guy on the plane had a leather cover for his...so when the cover was open, it was kind of like a book. Interesting! Plus I'm sure that that would help protect it. And I thought that it must be great for traveling. I always take books, plural, with me when I travel, and I always have to consider the book's size before I pack it. With something like that, I would just bring this slim electronic thing and I could have as many books as I wanted. But the thing that it lacks - well, two things, I think.
1) A book cover...I love reading the back or the book flap, looking at the cover, that kind of thing.
2) The ability to share...Sure, I could lend you my reader, but would I really? Whereas I'm happy to lend out a book or books for however long.
So, who knows. It's nothing I need to buy or really want right now, especially with so many books in the bedroom waiting to be read. But the experience of reading on the iPhone wasn't nearly as...weird or awkward or uncomfortable as I thought.
It's essentially the story of a square who lives in a two-dimensional world, and he explains his world to the reader, living in a three dimensional world. Then he explains how he visited some other worlds, including the three dimensional world. Essentially, in this flatland world, women are a straight line and men have more than two sides. The more sides someone has, the higher their social class. I liked that it was a really very different type of novel told from a very different point of view.
What makes it a classic? I had no idea, so I googled it. Of course. And apparently it was written in 1884 as a satire of Victorian England and its class structure. And now I can see that. Plus apparently it's still read for its mathematical parts, talking about sides and angles and things like that.
All in all, it was an interesting read. I didn't love it, but I didn't hate it. It got me thinking, though, of electronic readers. There's the Amazon Kindle, the Barnes & Noble Nook and the Sony Reader that I know of. And then I saw a guy on the plane last week with one. Part of why I think I wouldn't like one is that it doesn't feel like holding a book, I wouldn't think. But the guy on the plane had a leather cover for his...so when the cover was open, it was kind of like a book. Interesting! Plus I'm sure that that would help protect it. And I thought that it must be great for traveling. I always take books, plural, with me when I travel, and I always have to consider the book's size before I pack it. With something like that, I would just bring this slim electronic thing and I could have as many books as I wanted. But the thing that it lacks - well, two things, I think.
1) A book cover...I love reading the back or the book flap, looking at the cover, that kind of thing.
2) The ability to share...Sure, I could lend you my reader, but would I really? Whereas I'm happy to lend out a book or books for however long.
So, who knows. It's nothing I need to buy or really want right now, especially with so many books in the bedroom waiting to be read. But the experience of reading on the iPhone wasn't nearly as...weird or awkward or uncomfortable as I thought.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
From the Inside Out - Matthew Swanson and Robbi Behr
Twist! Two updates in one day! I can hardly believe it myself.
This is the latest Idiots'Book in the series...from wonderful people and husband and wife team Matthew Swanson and Robbi Behr. Shameless plug: go to their site, www.idiotsbooks.com, read their blog, subscribe to their books, and love them. Just as I have. Do it now.
So this latest book, volume 25. It's hard to summarize any of the books because they are such a unique blend of the word and the art and you really need both. And they're not straightforward stories either. If I were to try to summarize, I'd say that it's from the narrator's point of view as he joins something similar to AA, but for people who don't believe in a higher power. Two quotes that I particularly liked:
There among the clutter and congestion was a message that intrigued me: Unable to appeal to a higher power, we will immerse ourselves in craft and work together to discover new ways of sating our thirsts. We will aim to rebuild from the inside out.
and
The cumulative effect of so much pain is to create a space where it feels normal to ache.
Yeah. This is good stuff, people.
This is the latest Idiots'Book in the series...from wonderful people and husband and wife team Matthew Swanson and Robbi Behr. Shameless plug: go to their site, www.idiotsbooks.com, read their blog, subscribe to their books, and love them. Just as I have. Do it now.
So this latest book, volume 25. It's hard to summarize any of the books because they are such a unique blend of the word and the art and you really need both. And they're not straightforward stories either. If I were to try to summarize, I'd say that it's from the narrator's point of view as he joins something similar to AA, but for people who don't believe in a higher power. Two quotes that I particularly liked:
There among the clutter and congestion was a message that intrigued me: Unable to appeal to a higher power, we will immerse ourselves in craft and work together to discover new ways of sating our thirsts. We will aim to rebuild from the inside out.
and
The cumulative effect of so much pain is to create a space where it feels normal to ache.
Yeah. This is good stuff, people.
Je L'Aimais - Anna Gavalda
I Loved Her is the title. Or it could be I Loved Him, it's indistinguishable in the French without some context. And in the book, it could be either way. I read a previous book of hers that the French family gave me and loved it, so I bought this one when I was over there last November. It's a short book - about 170 pages, I think - and a pretty easy read. And I really enjoyed it.
It's a simple story, or at least a simple premise. A woman, the narrator, is with her parents-in-law, and it's quickly revealed that her husband - their son - has left her for another woman. The father-in-law takes her and her two girls to their country house for a few days. She thinks he's distant and unfeeling and, in her raw emotional state, doesn't hesitate to tell him. The bulk of the novel is a conversation they have one night after the kids have gone to bed, and it's his recounting how he met the love of his life (not his wife), how he lost her, how he hurt himself and his wife in the process, and how weak he is for letting life take control of him. It unfolds a new side of him that she's never seen before and, while not forgiving of the mistakes he's made, illustrates how they happened.
A quote that really jumped out at me:
La vie, même quand tu la nies, même quand tu la négliges, même quand tu refuses de l'admettre, est plus forte que toi. Plus forte que tout. Des gens sont revenus des camps et ont refait des enfants. Des hommes et des femmes qu'on a torturés, qui ont vu mourir leurs proches et brûler leur maison ont recommencé à courir après l'autobus, à commenter la météo et à marier leurs filles. C'est incroyable mais c'est comme ça. La Vie est plus forte que tout. Et puis, qui sommes-nous pour nous accorder tant d'importance? Nous nous agitons, nous parlons fort et alors? Et pourquoi? Et puis quoi, après?
And in English...
Life, even when you deny it, even when you neglect it, even when you refuse to admit it, is stronger than you. Stronger than everything. People came back from concentration camps and had more children. Men and women that were tortured, that saw their loved ones die and their houses burn started running for the bus again, talking about the weather and marrying off their daughters. It's incredible but that's how it is. Life is stronger than everything. And then, who are we to give ourselves so much importance? We act out, we raise our voices and so? And why? And then what, after?
There's a lot of truth in that paragraph.
A good novel. A good insight into two people - the narrator and her father-in-law - that tries to allow us insight into ourselves. I don't know if it's available in English, but the vocabulary and the writing style is so simple yet pulls you in...I almost want to translate it just to dig deeply into it.
So who loved whom? The father-in-law loved this other woman. She loved him. He loved his wife, and still does in a way. The narrator loves - loved? - her husband. It's hard to say.
It's a simple story, or at least a simple premise. A woman, the narrator, is with her parents-in-law, and it's quickly revealed that her husband - their son - has left her for another woman. The father-in-law takes her and her two girls to their country house for a few days. She thinks he's distant and unfeeling and, in her raw emotional state, doesn't hesitate to tell him. The bulk of the novel is a conversation they have one night after the kids have gone to bed, and it's his recounting how he met the love of his life (not his wife), how he lost her, how he hurt himself and his wife in the process, and how weak he is for letting life take control of him. It unfolds a new side of him that she's never seen before and, while not forgiving of the mistakes he's made, illustrates how they happened.
A quote that really jumped out at me:
La vie, même quand tu la nies, même quand tu la négliges, même quand tu refuses de l'admettre, est plus forte que toi. Plus forte que tout. Des gens sont revenus des camps et ont refait des enfants. Des hommes et des femmes qu'on a torturés, qui ont vu mourir leurs proches et brûler leur maison ont recommencé à courir après l'autobus, à commenter la météo et à marier leurs filles. C'est incroyable mais c'est comme ça. La Vie est plus forte que tout. Et puis, qui sommes-nous pour nous accorder tant d'importance? Nous nous agitons, nous parlons fort et alors? Et pourquoi? Et puis quoi, après?
And in English...
Life, even when you deny it, even when you neglect it, even when you refuse to admit it, is stronger than you. Stronger than everything. People came back from concentration camps and had more children. Men and women that were tortured, that saw their loved ones die and their houses burn started running for the bus again, talking about the weather and marrying off their daughters. It's incredible but that's how it is. Life is stronger than everything. And then, who are we to give ourselves so much importance? We act out, we raise our voices and so? And why? And then what, after?
There's a lot of truth in that paragraph.
A good novel. A good insight into two people - the narrator and her father-in-law - that tries to allow us insight into ourselves. I don't know if it's available in English, but the vocabulary and the writing style is so simple yet pulls you in...I almost want to translate it just to dig deeply into it.
So who loved whom? The father-in-law loved this other woman. She loved him. He loved his wife, and still does in a way. The narrator loves - loved? - her husband. It's hard to say.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Luck in the Shadows - Lynn Flewelling
A fantasy novel! I don't think I've read a true fantasy novel in a long time. Jeff gave me this book, which is how I stumbled across it. I really enjoy sci-fi and fantasy but rarely go looking for books in that genre, for whatever reason. So this is sort of the standard fare: a different world, wizards, swordplay, adventure, intrigue, that kind of thing. There's a slight twist in that the main character, Seregil, is gay - or maybe bi. What I like about this book in that aspect is that his sexual orientation is not at all a main focus. As a matter of fact, they never once use words like gay, bi, etc. It's referred to and brought up a few times but not as a major plot point. So I liked that.
It's the story of Seregil and a teenage-ish boy he rescues and takes on named Alec. And Seregil teaches Alec his ways (not sexually!) and together they get enmeshed in the mystery of who is trying to oust the queen. Overall, it was okay. I liked it well enough but, at 480 pages, felt that parts of it could have been trimmed down. I know that the series continues - there are parts 2 through 4, I believe - but I don't know that I care enough to keep reading them.
A part that struck me was when two characters were talking about magic. The great wizard Nysander is explaining some history to Alec and says, "It was they who first taught that knowledge is as powerful, in its own way, as any magic, and that magic without knowledge is worse than useless; it is dangerous." I like that. And I would say that any power, without knowledge, is dangerous, right? And then what is magic? If I wave a magic wand and make your door open, isn't that magic? And what if I do the same thing but, instead of a magic wand, I use a garage door opener? Well then it's no longer magic, but why not? I don't understand how either one works. If we could show this to someone who has no experience with this, wouldn't it be magical? Is it knowledge that takes away the magic? So as we grow older and understand more, do we then take the magic out of our own lives? Although I have to say that I don't know how a garage door opener, or a remote control, or even wireless internet works. But it's not magic...
Anyway, I enjoyed the book, I'm glad I read it, if I stumbled across the next one I'd consider it, but it didn't change my life.
It's the story of Seregil and a teenage-ish boy he rescues and takes on named Alec. And Seregil teaches Alec his ways (not sexually!) and together they get enmeshed in the mystery of who is trying to oust the queen. Overall, it was okay. I liked it well enough but, at 480 pages, felt that parts of it could have been trimmed down. I know that the series continues - there are parts 2 through 4, I believe - but I don't know that I care enough to keep reading them.
A part that struck me was when two characters were talking about magic. The great wizard Nysander is explaining some history to Alec and says, "It was they who first taught that knowledge is as powerful, in its own way, as any magic, and that magic without knowledge is worse than useless; it is dangerous." I like that. And I would say that any power, without knowledge, is dangerous, right? And then what is magic? If I wave a magic wand and make your door open, isn't that magic? And what if I do the same thing but, instead of a magic wand, I use a garage door opener? Well then it's no longer magic, but why not? I don't understand how either one works. If we could show this to someone who has no experience with this, wouldn't it be magical? Is it knowledge that takes away the magic? So as we grow older and understand more, do we then take the magic out of our own lives? Although I have to say that I don't know how a garage door opener, or a remote control, or even wireless internet works. But it's not magic...
Anyway, I enjoyed the book, I'm glad I read it, if I stumbled across the next one I'd consider it, but it didn't change my life.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Les Enfants de la liberté - Marc Levy
Well, I tried. I really did. I have enjoyed all of Marc Levy's other stuff; it's been contemporary novels, with a twist to them - like when God and Satan sent messengers to decide the fate of humankind and they fell in love with each other. But this one - totally different. It's a story, loosely based (I believe) on Marc Levy's father's life when he was about 20 years old and in the Resistance. And I tried...and tried...to like it, and to get through it. And it's not that I didn't like it...I just couldn't get through it. It's very well written, and as I've been reading it (for the past two months) I've enjoyed it, but it's such slow-going for me that I have decided to give up on it. Which is a shame, because I really wish I could get through it, but I can't.
So...onward to the next book.
So...onward to the next book.
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