Ahhhh, remember 2019? When everything seemed so hectic and stressful? You know, we were all worried about Trump's impeachment, Brexit, protests in Hong Kong and climate change? Ah well, those were the days! I was clearly too busy back then to write this compilation! Now that we are all stuck in lockdown, there is no better time than to write this or for you, yes you, to read this post for some bookish inspiration. I also recommend that you check out your university or local library's website. Many of them have cleared open access to a ton of ebooks for free! Stay safe, stay inside, read a book. P.s. 2019 was apparently the year of great Canadian novels. Go Canada! Mãn de Kim Thúy Résumé Mãn est une histoire d'amour entre une femme et celles qui l'ont, tour à tour, fait naître, allaitée, élevée. Elle a été déposée dans le potager d'un temple bouddhiste sur le bord d'un des bras du Mékong par une adolescente. Une moniale l'a recueillie et nourrie d'eau, de riz et du lait des seins d'une mère voisine, avant de la confier à une autre femme – enseignante de jour, espionne en tout temps. Mon opinion Kim Thúy a été ma découverte de l’été. Lorsque j’étais à Ottawa, j’ai emprunté Ru, Vi et Mãn à ma tante. J’ai lu chacun de ces livres en un jour seulement. Malheureusement, j’ai supprimé accidentellement mes notes de lecture avant d’avoir écrit ma chronique sur ces chefs d’œuvres. Mãn se démarque du lot par son style d’écriture qui était le plus peaufiné selon moi. En effet, dans Ru, il y avait de nombreuses répétitions qui ne faisaient qu’alourdir le texte tandis que dans Vi il manquait d’originalité par rapport aux deux autres œuvres. Mãn est simplement beau et doux. C’est une magnifique histoire, bien construite malgré le peu de pages, qui réchauffe le cœur. C’est aussi un récit parfaitement humain, avec des erreurs de parcours et des moments de solitude et de regret. Après avoir lu un roman de Thúy, on en ressort grandit non seulement parce qu’on apprend sur la condition des migrants, particulièrement de la diaspora vietnamienne au Québec, mais aussi sur l’amour, la vie, la tendresse. Bref, à lire si vous voulez une lecture enrichissante sans lire 400 pages sur les horreurs de l’histoire humaine.
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Lullabies for Little Criminals by Heather O’Neill 5/5 Awards: Governor General’s Literary Awards / Prix littéraire du Gouverneur general Nominee (2007), CBC Canda Reads (2007), Québec Writer’s Federation Award for Paragraphe Hugh MacLennan Prize for Fiction (2007), Orange Prize Nominee for Fiction Shortlist (2008). French: La Ballade de Baby *Thanks to JM for reminding me that I have this blog to keep me busy during quarantine. Summary At thirteen, Baby vacillates between childhood comforts and adult temptation: still young enough to drag her dolls around in a vinyl suitcase yet old enough to know more than she should about urban cruelties. Motherless, she lives with her father, Jules, who takes better care of his heroin habit than he does of his daughter. Baby's gift is a genius for spinning stories and for cherishing the small crumbs of happiness that fall into her lap. But her blossoming beauty has captured the attention of a charismatic and dangerous local pimp who runs an army of sad, slavishly devoted girls—a volatile situation even the normally oblivious Jules cannot ignore. And when an escape disguised as betrayal threatens to crush Baby's spirit, she will ultimately realize that the power of salvation rests in her hands alone. My thoughts By now, it fair to say that I am obsessed with Heather O'Neill. This is the second book of hers that I am reading in less than a year (2019). Lullabies for Little Criminals (LLC) was not as good as The Lonely Hearts Hotel though, to be fair, that would be asking O’Neill to repeat perfection twice. It just lacked a bit of the literal magic of Lonely Hearts. Instead of magic tricks, Baby has the whimsicalness of a child, a constant positive outlook towards the world. However, carelessness, like an old coin, gets duller with every page for the reader as we are faced with a character that seems more naïve than happy. |
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