Books 2010

Books 2009

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Wednesday, 14 April 2010


Hello Glo, the cat is still slinking about on the margins of the weblog world! He even has his own weblog these days too.

I still have read no books by Powell at all.

To Mrs. Cornflower
Sorry for the shame, but I strongly and warmly recommend you to go ahead with the Powellian Dance. The 3rd movement (volumes 7 to 9) was my favourite, although it is exclusively about wartime. I was expecting dreadful scenes and much sorrow, but I found very good literature with unexpected events, and fine psychology about both men and women - wartime making personalities appear at their most sincere and true, I assume.

I am also glad to see our favourites flowers making an appearance on this blog - long time no see, you know - and I hope Mr Cornflower and Dark Puss are fine and will show up soon too.

Apologies, Lindsay, for going off topic.

Glo, you put me to shame! I've read only five of the twelve and must get back to them before memory of the story fails and I have to begin all over again.

Just stopping by briefly to say a fond hello to my blogging friends (and cats). I will be back soon and read all the posts I missed. I hope everybody is fine well.
I have finally finished my Dance to The Music of Time reading session. It took me more time to read the two last volumes than the 10 others, and those two are definitely not my favorites. But this porevented me regretting that the whole saga was over, so everything is fine like it is.

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  • Nothing is of greater consolation to the author of a novel than the disovery of readings he had not conceived but which are then prompted by his readers. (Umberto Eco, Reflections on The Name of the Rose)
  • ... relatively few persons in London ... can afford the luxury of one or more servants. No fewer than 3,700,000 have no servants at all, and of the half million that have servants 227,000 have only one. (The Times, 6 June 1895)
  • Standing among savage scenery, the hotel offers stupendous revelations. There is a French widow in every bedroom, affording delightful prospects. (Tyrolean inn brochure, according to Gerard Hoffnung)
  • (A doctor is at an elderly relative's deathbed) "The old sawbones, eh?" he bellowed ... "Just in the nick, perhaps. Haul the old girl back by the short hairs, if you ask me. Devilish smart at his work ... Always take a fence with more confidence when I know he's out with us."
  • Too often, when a man of Monty Godkin's mental powers is plunged in thought, nothing happens at all. The machinery just whirs for a while, and that is the end of it. (P G Wodehouse, Heavy Weather)
  • ...the breed that take their pleasures as Saint Laurence took his grid (Kipling, The Five nations)

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