Book 2 in the Simon Serrailler crime series is starting to feel a little like a cross between The Archers and Midsomer Murders. It’s not quite a domestic drama and it’s not quite driven by the police procedural elements.
I’m wondering whether poor Martha Serrailler is long for this world… angels of death seem to be working her care home.
So, reading this for my book group. It’s not my usual reading material: non-fiction, no plot or chronology, written by an eighty-two year-old playwright and Jungian psychologist.
It’s not an autobiography, not even a memoir. It is, according to itself, a notebook containing her observations on age and on society. Rambling. Unstructured. Containing a lifetime of knowledge, experience and opinion ruminated upon in the isolation of age.
It’s essentially a blog. And so far we have considered the nature of evil, humanity and age.
As an example, I’ll leave this snippet which I found quite moving.
The Man Booker prize, which is not without its politics, controversies and critics has, nevertheless furnished me with some of my most memorable reads recently: Eleanor Catton’s The Luminaries, which led me to her wonderful The Rehearsal, Ruth Ozeki’s A Tale For The Time Being, How To Be Both by Ali Smith, Niall Williams’ The History Of The Rain. Gorgeous, unique and powerful – occasionally experimental – voices.
The year’s list (the covers for which look amazing) are:
Bill Clegg (U.S.), Did You Ever Have a Family
Anne Enright (Ireland), The Green Road
Marlon James (Jamaica), A Brief History of Seven Killings
Laila Lalami (U.S.), The Moor’s Account
Tom McCarthy (U.K.), Satin Island
Chigozie Obioma (Nigeria), The Fishermen
Andrew O’Hagan (U.K.), The Illuminations
Marilynne Robinson (U.S.), Lila
Anuradha Roy (India), Sleeping on Jupiter
Sunjeev Sahota (U.K.), The Year of the Runaways
Anna Smaill (New Zealand), The Chimes
Anne Tyler (U.S.), A Spool of Blue Thread
Hanya Yanagihara (U.S.), A Little Life
So hopefully the above link has embedded the Google Sheets Spreadsheet into the blog to share how many of the 52 books I’ve read and whether – after a little hiatus – I have managed to keep on track.
Seem to be struggling with the Book Turned Into a Movie category… I’m sure that cannot be too tricky!
I’m sat at home as I type this with a little girl cuddling on my lap. She’ll be two in July. She is mine, I hasten to add… I didn’t kidnap her for the sake of a blog post!
We’re still waiting for her to talk which is the point of this post. She relies almost entirely on /m/ sounds. Now, in fairness, there is a wide range of expression in her /m/s and we can tell the difference between an angry /m/ and a happy /m/ and a naughty /m/ and an asking /m/. Mmmmmm and Mmm? and MMMMmmmmm and mmmmmmmmmm… And she can laugh both spontaneously and with somewhat dramatised /ha/ /ha/ /ha/ sounds.
She is capable of producing other sounds: we’ve had /d/ sounds which seems lmore like a Simpsons’ “D’oh” rather than anything meaning “dad” but we have had /æ/ sounds, generally in the context of singing Row Row Row Your Boat. Or, as here, in reenacting scenes from Hammer Horror’s Dracula.
I have had arguments with both my other daughter and health visitor as to whether these noises constitute ‘words’ or ‘speaking’. Personally, without any sense of consistent semantics, I think they are just noises, experimentation and play.