Tuesday, March 06, 2018

Reading (The Little Paris Bookshop by Nina George)

I love Instagram pictures of books, particularly the ones on white bedspreads. I love them, but it's not my reality. This is how reading on my bed looks like:


And, heavens, I could never add a cup of coffee to this mix! I'd have coffee everywhere!

I have been tempted to not rate this book, but then folks would think it is worth no stars (and some people would think that it needs to go into the trash for reasons I will explain). However, I decided to take the middle of the road path with 3 stars. Those who love this book are shocked, I'm sure. And, my readers will say, "How could you give your friend's book 4 stars and this book only 3 stars?" Um, she's my friend. More than that, my giving this book 3 stars will not hurt its sales. It's a best seller in a number of countries so let me delve into the whys and wherefores of my rating for The Little Paris Bookshop.

During chapters 1-7, I was in love. Monsieur Perdu, the main character, prescribes books for what ails one. Swoon! Such eloquent language, a mystery, books, what's not to like? Then, I felt like I was in a peep show, mostly an amazingly written, sensual peep show, which is why some readers will go out and immediately get the book, and others will think the book needs to be burned. Few readers sit on the fence with such scenes in books. Here's my take on it: I prefer my authors to read the Old Testament "Song of Solomon" twenty times and then write their sensual scene. I like discretion and in the elegance, don't allow common coarse words to pop in.

It's hard to tell with translations. Is the translator the elegant writer or the author? I was surprised to find out the author was German (I blame that bias on a stoic German neighbor). I was sure that she was French. Is the translator or the author to blame for putting one or two common coarse words in the midst of the elegance? Just as there are grades of coarse for sandpaper, so too, there are grades for words. These were not the coarsest of the lot but just enough to jar the flow of reading.

I did continue reading and two main characters left Paris! Perdu left someone I thought was a person of interest! I didn't mind traveling with Perdu and Max through the French countryside on Perdu's Literary Apothecary bookshop barge, but as another friend who read this book mentioned, the story begins to meander. This novel reminds me of The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry by Rachel Joyce (fictional pilgrimage through English countryside) and two other international books A Man Called Ove by Frederick Backman and The Restoration of Otto Laird by Nigel Packer.

The novel is also reminiscent of another river story, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Mark Twain, however, does a better job of piecing his adventures together. That is perhaps unfair to compare George with Twain (Samuel Clemens) since this is George's second book; still, I think it will give the reader a clearer picture of the story.

Another peeve of mine is the interruption of the story line with chapters from other characters. For the first time, I noticed that the "voice" of the writing did not change with the character change. Perdu's beautiful thinking continued when the novel switched to Manon! I've never noticed that before in a novel. Perhaps I've never noticed because the writing was so-so whereas the style is noticeable from the beginning of The Little Paris Bookshop. So to have Manon's voice sound the same as Perdu's voice unsettled the flow of my reading. Later in the book, Manon's journal does not sound so flawless. Then, again, Perdu's voice becomes more plain as well. Again, is that the author or the translator or the fact of what Perdu and Manon are going through?

Parts of this book shine out for me, the mystery, the heartbreak, the books, the relationships: definitely worth between a 3 and a 4 rating.

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One of the things I do NOT regret is reading to my children. Just this past week, a friend in a poetry group passed out bookmarks printed with the following poem:

"The Reading Mother"

I had a mother who read to me
Sagas of pirates who scoured the sea
Cutlasses clenched in their yellow teeth,
"Blackbirds" stowed in the hold beneath.

I had a mother who read me lays
Of ancient and gallant and golden days;
Stories of Marmion and Ivanhoe,
Which every boy has a right to know.

I had a mother who read me tales
Of Gelet the hound of the hills of Wales,
True to his trust till his tragic death,
Faithfulness blent with his final breath.

I had a mother who read me the things
That wholesome life to the boy heart brings --
Stories that stir with an upward touch,
Oh, that each mother of boys were such!

You may have tangible wealth untold;
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I, you can never be --
I had a mother who read to me.

Strickland Gillilan
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Almost every spiritual formation plan includes reading scriptures every day. Here is a practice that may be new to the reader. Decide on one of the gospels of Jesus and read it straight through (or as close as possible for new parents). Mark is the shortest in case that helps! Something a young parent has now that I did not: the bible on a phone app. It is possible to get one of the gospels on the phone app (in anyone of the many versions) and read in those moments when you are holding the baby and can't set him or her down because then the child will wake up. Sneak in an uninterrupted few moments of just enjoying the Jesus story without studying it, without making notes, just letting being around Jesus sink in. Read with the eyes of love that Jesus has for you.

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NOTE: I finally added a partial list of the gift books shown in the post "Gift Books on the Top Middle Shelf..." See the comment section on that same post linked here.


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