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Listopia: Top 10 Literary Crushes
March 20, 2012 in book talk | Tags: listopia, on reading, random | 17 comments
I wish I’d made a similar list when I was in my early teens and twenties just to notice the evolution. I see some patterns in this collection of men: not a lot of Alphas or Bad Boys, there’s a surprising number of soldiers (although their soldering doesn’t defines them), only two of them lived in the 20th century and steadfastness seems a general quality.
I suspect that my past self would include more gloomy types, but intellect and the possibility of an interesting conversation is taking over. Mr. Darcy would have definitely be included in a previous list, but now I’m switching my Austen favorite from the brooding gentleman to the social adventurer. I’ve also noticed they aren’t very original choices, but for that I blame the amazing authors that created them.
10. Jaime Lannister (A Song of Ice and Fire series)
“I think it passing odd that I am loved by one for a kindness I never did, and reviled by so many for my finest act.” (A Clash of Kings)

I struggle da bit about including Jamie because of the whole, you know, pushing a child out of the window thing. But the fact remains that as the series progresses, Martin’s genius is making him more and more interesting and layered.
He stats off with a ruthless reputation, but then on book three he becomes a POV character and we suddenly see the other side of the story. It’s also around that time that Jaime’s life stops being a succession of victories and the first cracks start to show. Although he has a twisted relationship with his sister, there’s true affection between him and Tyrion, always a good sign.
I’ll probably regret this choice in the future because, Martin being Martin, Jaime might be killing baby seals in the next book, but for now, his chapters are the ones I’m most looking forward to.
9. William Dobbin (Vanity Fair)
She admired Dobbin; she bore him no rancour for the part he had taken against her. It was an open move in the game, and played fairly. “Ah!” she thought, “if I could have had such a husband as that—a man with a heart and brains too! I would not have minded his large feet.” (Becky Sharp on William Dobbie)
Becky Sharp saying such a thing about a man should already be an indication of how great Dobbin is. He’s described as shy, ugly, awkward, the complete opposite of his best friend George, who marries the girl Dobbie loves and everyone thinks a hero, but is in fact the scum of the earth. I don’t usually go for the meek characters, but Dobbin is the underdog who sticks around when there’s trouble and one of the noblest literary men I’ve ever read about.
Everyone seems to underestimate him, but Dobbin goes from the son of a grocer to become a Captain, then a Major, and finally a Colonel. He also has a smart sense of humor, although it rarely makes an appearance. In one of the book’s last scenes, after years of constant affection, Dobbin finally stands up for himself after being unfairly mistreated by his beloved Amelia. Although it’s sad, it’s also the poignant scene that sealed the deal and made him enter this list.
It also didn’t hurt to see Philip Glenister play him in the adaptation.
8. Ron Weasley (Harry Potter series)
“Hermione screamed again from overhead, and they could hear Bellatrix screaming too, but her words were inaudible, for Ron shouted again, ‘HERMIONE! HERMIONE!’” (Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows)
Ron is the real romantic hero of the Harry Potter series and I’m not alone in thinking so. He starts of as The Chosen One’s wingman, the one without any special gifts or abilities and ends up getting the (amazing) girl. Ron coughs up slugs and breaks wands, but he also offers himself up to Bellatrix in Hermione’s stead and, in one of the most amazing scenes of the whole serie, he faces his fears and insecurities and destroys the Locket.
AND he smells of freshly mown grass, new parchment and toothpaste…
7. Gilbert Blythe (Anne of Green Gables series)
“Gilbert Blythe was trying to make Anne Shirley look at him and failing utterly… she should look at him, that redhaired Shirley girl with the pointed chin and the big eyes that weren’t like the eyes of any other girl in Avonlea school.” (Anne of Green Gables)
Gil must be in the crushes lists of anyone who’s ever read Anne of Green Gables. He’s Anne’s intellectual equal and challenger, and the epitome of The Good Man.
He’s not afraid to apologize or to stand his ground and challenge Anne. He loves her but is ready to wait until she’s ready… and it also doesn’t hurt he’s easy on the eye.
All of their scenes together make me all mushy inside: calling her Carrot, the The Lady of Shalott debacle, his proposal(s) and basically the whole of Anne of the Island.
6. Captain Wentworth (Persuasion)
“A man does not recover from such a devotion of the heart to such a woman! He ought not; he does not”
Mr. Darcy has The Proposal, but Captain Wentworth has The Letter. The best love letter ever written?
His devotion to Anne, after all those years, after she broke her heart is impossible to resist. For me he has the added value of being the only Austenesque self-made hero and a sailor who’s seen the world to top. It’s a great combination.
He’s also one of the only people in the world who recognizes Anne for the sensible, intelligent and resourceful woman she is: no one puts Anne in a corner!
5. Robbie Turner (Atonement)
“Finally he spoke the three simple words that no amount of bad art or bad faith can every quite cheapen.”
Years of desiring Cecilia from afar and a few stolen minutes in the library sustain Robbie Turner throughout the horrors of WW2. Don’t know exactly why I like Robbie so much, but it’s probably because he carries an undeserved burden with courage, and strength, and always with Cecilia on his mind.
Robbie wears his heart of his sleeve and somehow there’s hope in him, even after Briony’s accusation and all that followed. We can’t help but, be like the narrator, wholeheartedly root for him to come back.
4. Stephen Maturin (Aubrey/Maturin series)
“There is a systematic flocci-nauci-nihili-pilification of all other aspects of existence that angers me.” (Master and Commander)
This is my most recent literary crush: he’s bright, funny and such a geek! Stephen might not be good looking, but he can tell you all about the Galápagos giant tortoise and how to do brain surgery in a stinking boat in six languages.
Actually, scratch that about him not being good looking, don’t care how O’Brian describes him, he’ll always look like Paul Bettany to me. It’s also attractive that he’s part of one of the best bromances around.
3. Rhett Butler (Gone with the Wind)
“There was a cool recklessness in his face and a cynical humor in his mouth as he smiled at her, and Scarlett caught her breath.”
A cliché, I know, but the millions of fans can’t all be wrong, right? Rhett Butler had me almost at hello, when he stands in a group of righteous Southern men hungry for war and says “Napoleon – perhaps you’ve hear of him? – remarked once, ‘God is on the side of the strongest battalion’“.
Just like Scarlett he’s an anti-hero, or at least a hero trying too hard not to be one (was there ever a more frustrating relationship?). He’s sharp, ambitious, worldly, cynical, confident and just devilish enough to keep any woman on her toes.
Mitchell never wrote a sex scene, but the pages are full to the brim with sexual tension whenever he’s around.
2. Atticus Finch (To Kill a Mockingbird)
“Courage is not a man with a gun in his hand. It’s knowing you’re licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do.”
You know Atticus is special because he’s the only one on my list without a love interest. He’s very close to what I consider perfection in a man, which is not the same thing as being perfect.
His attraction are his Southern Gentleman ways and his determination to do what’s right. He also kills rabid dogs and is raising two great and open-minded kids alone. I’m only surprised about how he never feels like a Mary Sue, preachy or self-righteous. I wonder what type of people his wife and his parents were, they must also have been extraordinary.
1. Faramir (The Lord of the Rings)
“I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.” (The Two Towers)
“He was gentle in bearing, and a lover of lore and of music, and therefore by many in those days his courage was judged less than his brother’s. But it was not so, except that he did not seek glory in danger without a purpose.” (The Return of the King)
“Here was one with an air of high nobility such as Aragorn at times revealed, less high perhaps, yet also less incalculable and remote: one of the Kings of Men born into a later time, but touched with the wisdom and sadness of the Elder Race. [...] He was a captain that men would follow, [...] even under the shadow of the black wings.” (The Two Towers)
Faramir only makes his appearance in The Two Towers, but he got my attention immediately and became my biggest literary crush. Yep, I liked him even before he fell in love with Éowyn, the only 3D female character in the whole book.
That’s just the cherry on top: Faramir’s a soldier, but his father calls him “a wizard’s pupil” because Gandalf himself taught him the lore of Middle-earth. He’s noble, but human, and his need to please his father, who preferred his brother Boromir, broke my heart. He also resisted the Ring, letting Frodo and Sam go, even though he could be killed for it (“You know the laws of our country, the laws of your father. If you let them go, your life will be forfeit.”)
I’m always secretly happy when I see Aragorn or Legolas in literary crushes lists, because it means that Faramir, the scholarly soldier, is still one of the best kept open-secrets in literature ;)
So, who did I miss?
Listopia: Top 12 Hidden Gems (a “You’ll Thank Me Later” compilation) (Part 2)
November 10, 2011 in book talk | Tags: childrens, dorothy dunnett, fantasy, fiction, listopia, on reading, random | 18 comments
Second and last part, again in no order of preference.
7. Fly by Night by Frances Hardinge (England, UK)
It’s not a complete unknown (its sequel is on the shortlist of the Guardian children’s fiction prize), but I only know three other people who’ve heard of it.
As I’ve mentioned in my review, someone in Goodreads said that Fly By Night was “written as a gushy Valentine to the English language” and I’m hard pressed to come up with a better description.
Fly by Night is the story of 12-year-old Mosca Mye. She loves words and it’s her favorite treat to find new ones to play with. Before her father died he taught her how to read, a dangerous skill in a world where education is feared and books are distrusted. When a travelling storyteller passes through town, she sees her opportunity to explore the world.
It’s a children’s story, but adults will appreciate it as well (even more?). It has many layers, it’s too subtly political, full of dark humor and clever sarcasm. I’m glad there’s a sequel because, as Mosca said, “True stories seldom have endings. I don’t want a happy ending, I want more story.”
8. The Firebrand by Marion Zimmer Bradley (USA)
The Mists of Avalon (39,925 ratings on Goodreads) is very popular, but Firerbrand (only 2,911) doesn’t have the recognition it deserves. While I agree that The Mists is the better of the two, Firebrand is a (very) close second.
I’m a sucker for Greek mythology, so that might be the source of my amazement. Firebrand is the re-telling of the Trojan War and Homer’s Illiad (that “boys story”), seen through the eyes of Kassandra, the priestess cursed with seeing the future, but never being believed. She’s also the twin sister of Paris, the Prince who brought Helen to Troy.
Great historical detail, a nice dose of magic, a strong female heroine and a wonderful love story. What more can you ask?
9. The Lymond Chronicles by Dorothy Dunnett (Scotland, UK)
Is it possible to be in awe of a book, to obsess about it, put it in your top-3 best of all time, and at the same time be afraid to recommend it? Yes. This might also be the reason The Lymond Chronicles are probably the most under-rated books in this whole list.
So here’s a warning: The Lymond Chronicles might be some of the most challenging books you’ll ever read, but also become the best and most rewarding.
They are a series of six novels set in mid-sixteenth century and telling the story of a young Scottish nobleman, Francis Crawford of Lymond, a Renaissance man through and through: polyglot, philosopher, military strategist and musician. We follow him from Scotland to the deserts of North Africa, from Istanbul to Moscow.
The detail is exquisite and the plot extremely intricate, readers are never spoon-fed but one is constantly in awe of Dunnett’s genius. You won’t find a staggering amount of reviews online, but notice the high average score and praise.
10. The Old Man Who Read Love Stories (Un viejo que leía novelas de amor) by Luis Sepúlveda (Chile)
Like Captains of the Sands, this book is very popular in the Spanish and Portuguese-speaking world, but never made the jump to the wider world. I’ve heard it talked off as the Uncle Tom’s Cabin of Amazonian deforestation.
António Proaño is a simple man. He lives in El Idilio, an isolated village in the Ecuadorian part of the Amazon forest. The dentist comes only twice a year and brings with him the romantic novels that António started to love after his wife died.
He wants a quiet life – his hammock, his monkey meat, his rum, his novels – but all is disrupted when gringos start hunting ocelot cubs and push the animal into a killing spree. António respects the ocelot, but is asked by the El Idilio’s nasty mayor to kill it.
The Old Man Who Read Love Stories is a beautiful tale about the jungle, man’s impact and Nature’s response when threatened.
11. The Royal Game (Schachnovelle) by Stefan Zweig (Austria)
I’ve read this novella years ago, but it comes to my mind often, usually in seemingly unrelated situations.
While Dr. B is in a Nazi prison, he keeps a fragile grip on sanity because of a book he stole from a guard. The book is about chess, a compilation of the games of past masters, so Dr. B starts playing chess in his mind, endlessly, voraciously. After learning every single move of any variation in the book, and having nothing more to explore, Dr. B begins to play the game against himself, developing the ability to separate his mind into two: I White and I Black.
After the war, a traumatized Dr. B has given up chess, until on a cruise he’s challenged by an arrogant world champion…
Don’t really remember how I came to read this, suspect it was a book-ring organized by Bookcrossing, but I’m glad I did. Zweig was a friend of Freud and you can see his influence in the way Zweig writes about blind passion, obsessive, over the top, all-consuming, Id-type of passion.
12. Os Olhos de Ana Marta by Alice Vieira (not translated yet, but would probably be something like The Eyes of Ana Marta) (Portugal)
Nymeth over at “things mean a lot” actually offered to translate this book and buy copies to give away through her blog. I’d do the same in a heart-beat, so Editorial Caminho, if you’re listening: we can help promote it, just make it happen!
A girl called Marta thought she didn’t belong to her family. Her mom is “fragile” and her father distant because of The Great Calamity, a mysterious event that happened long ago and no one in the house speaks about. Marta is raised by the house-keeper-come-nanny, in a house with rooms that are always closed and questions that can never be asked.
I had the same thought after finishing it as I did after To Kill a Mockingbird: I’ve just witnessed perfect storytelling. I’m only sorry most of you won’t be able to enjoy it too
So this is it! Hope I’ve increased my karma by spreading The Joy and that I’ve persuaded you to at least try some of them. I’d really like to hear about your own hidden-gems!
Listopia: Top 12 Hidden Gems (a “You’ll Thank Me Later” compilation) (Part 1)
November 8, 2011 in book review | Tags: brussels, fiction, historical, listopia, on reading, portuguese, steampunk | 21 comments
If there’s any justice in the world, someday these books will have the recognition they deserve. To be fair, some are already hugely popular in certain parts of the world, so maybe this post should be called “Books I’m surprised the Whole World isn’t talking about”.
Would love to know if you’ve ever hear of/read any of them.
Alphabetically:
1. A Short History of a Small Place by T. R. Pearson (USA)
At the yearly Book Fair here in Brussels I always buy a couple of mavericks. A Short History of a Small Place was my 2007 blind date but it quickly became one of the best of the year. I may have been easy to please because of my soft spot for Southern Literature, but this novel seemed to have all the elements needed to win me over: a small town, eccentric characters, smart jokes and the bittersweet feeling of coming-of-age. Still, I’ve never met (online or in person) anyone who’s ever heard of A Short History of a Small Place.
The story is set in the mid-60s, in the fictional town of Nelly, NC. Our young narrator, Louis Benfield, recounts the tragic last days of old Miss Myra Angelique Pettigrew, a former town belle and eccentric wealthy sister of the late mayor. After years of total seclusion, Miss Pettigrew returns flamboyantly to public view to sing her swan song.
Although events are told by Louis, in a way we see them from the perspective of the entire town. They are those stories told over and over at the kitchen table, in the supermarket line, in the beauty salon and after Sunday service. So often that they become the stuff of legend.
2. Baltasar and Blimunda (Memorial do Convento) by José Saramago (Portugal)
I think I’m not exaggerating when I say that Baltasar and Blimunda is the most popular book by Saramago in his home country, so when he jumped borders it surprised me how rarely it’s mentioned. I’ve discussed this phenomenon with some friends and the only reason we can come up with is that, unlike Blindness, The Double or All the Names, Baltasar and Blimunda is very… Portuguese. Its political and religious message, although not unique, can better be appreciated if you know something of Portuguese history and psyche.
It’s the 18th century, and the Inquisition strengthens its grip on Portugal as gold and diamonds pour in from Brasil and other colonies. The book starts when King John V dutifully visits his Queen to try for an heir. He promises God that if he succeeds he’ll build a magnificent Monastery, and that’s the start of what will become the Mafra National Palace. Baltasar and Blimunda is the story of the construction of the Palace and Saramago takes us on an intimate journey through the Nobility and Clergy who funded it, the engineers who design it, and the lower classes who actual build it.
It’s an historical novel with the social and religious criticism Saramago is famous for, but he still managed to create what’s still one of my favorite love stories of all time.
3. Captains of the Sands (Capitães da Areia) by Jorge Amado (Brazil)
A classic of Brazilian literature which doesn’t seem very popular outside the Portuguese-speaking world and Latin America. I remember it for its emotional punch and my first encounter with a world that is not all black and white. I probably read it a bit too early in life and I clearly remember how it heart-broken I was.
“Captains of the Sands” is a gang of abandoned children living in the streets of Bahia in the 30s. They’re between seven to fifteen years old and survive by stealing and coning. Think Lord of the Flies meets City of God meets Peter Pan. It’s a book that surprised me by the amount of topics it approaches: poverty, social injustice, parenthood, sexuality, gender equality, African culture in Brazil. Read it and fall in love with Pedro Bala, the leader, Professor, the book-lover and artist, and Dora, the Wendy-like figure of the gang. There’s also a movie adaptation. Here’s the trailer.
4. Cities of the Fantastic (Les Cités Obscures) by François Schuiten (art) and Benoît Peeters (story) (Belgium)

These are a series of books started in the 80s that have reached cult status, at least in the Franco-Belgian graphic novels world. Schuiten in particular is so well liked here in Belgium that he got to design his own Steampunk metro station.
The Cities of the Fantastic are an imaginary world where humans live in independent (sometimes isolated) city-states, each with a distinct civilization and architectural style.
There are passages between our world and the Cities (the Obscure Passages), sometimes crossed by people on both sides. Jules Verne, for instance, is a frequent visitor. Most Passages are found in buildings and constructions similar or identical in both words, such as Art Nouveau master-piece Maison Autrique. You can even read reports (complete with photos) of crossings in websites like the Office to the Obscure Passages or The Web of the Obscure Cities.
The series and its spin-offs offer beautiful art with a solid world-building. Pure, unadulterated escapism.
5. Citizen Dog by Mark O’Hare (USA)

It’s a huge mystery to me why Citizen Dog doesn’t have the same following as Calvin & Hobbs or Mutts.
It ran between 1995 and 2001 and it’s about the life of Mel and his dog Fergus. Call me a biased dog-person, but I love that in Citizen Dog cats are (for once!) not portrayed as the sharpest knives in the drawer. Maybe that’s the source of discrimination?
I always get a good laugh out of Citizen Dog books, no matter how often I read them. The lines between master and dog are usually blured and often switched, but somehow Fergus is more lovable than other rebels, like Garfield. Anyone out there also a fan?
6. The King Amaz’d (Crónica del rey pasmado) by Gonzalo Torrente Ballester (Spain)
Very short, but oh-so-delightful.
After sleeping with his best courtesan, young King Philip IV becomes obsessed with an idea. A simple idea, but one which will rock the Court, the Inquisition and the Kingdom: Philip wishes to see the Queen, his wife, naked.
This is the epitome of a hidden gem, a funny, clever and insightful satire about conformity and personal freedom.
Listopia: Movies better than the books
June 28, 2011 in book talk | Tags: fiction, listopia, random | 23 comments
I’ve no lack of reviews to write, but the weather is so hot and stuffy I just want to go into revelry instead of entering “Deep Thoughts” mode. So this is the perfect time for a Listopia post with my list of the ten best movies which were BETTER than the book.
I don’t subscribe to the dogma that all books are always better than their adaptation. Sometimes a story and its characters just shine a brighter on screen. That being said, it was only after completing the list that I realize I always saw these movie before reading the books. There’s a clear pattern here.
(PS: I don’t know about you, but Best Adapted Screenplay is my favorite Oscar category)
#1 Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk

By the time I read Fight Club I’d already read my favorite Palahniuks so ended up short of impressed. It was his first book and I guess he was still trying to get to grips with his style.
It was with this movie that Helena Bonham Carter played for the first time the wacky-women type that just stuck with her (e.g. Bellatrix Lestrange, the girl in the Sweeny Todd).
Favorite not-in-the-book moment: Pixies singing “Where is my mind” while the world is ending.
#2 Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones
This movie deviated quite a bit from the book, but it’s still a great Miyazaki. I did have more fun with it than the book, which was nice but didn’t deliver the magic I got from Studio Ghibli’s amazing colors and scenarios.
I’m afraid I’d probably feel the same thing if I ever decided to read Mary Norton’s The Borrowers, Ghibli’s latest adaptation.
Favorite not-in-the-book moment: The climb up the Castle’s stairs.
#3 The Color Purple by Alice Walker
The book’s first part was so good that by itself it wouldn’t make this list, but the second (after Celie found Nettie’s letters) didn’t grab me enough.
Favorite not-in-the-book moment: Shug returns to church.
#4 The Painted Veil by W. Somerset Maugham
I can’t get tired of this movie and the first time I saw it I thought: what an amazing book this must be. Alas, the book and I didn’t hit it off, and I guiltily know it’s because I was expecting the story to be exactly as the adaptation. I had a hard time accepting that Maugham chose not to have Walter and Walter fall in love.
Favorite not-in-the-book moment: Walter shows Kitty the watermill.
#5 The Neverending Story by Michael Ende
Its movies like this that create perfect childhood memories. How could Ende compete with puppy-headed Luck Dragon? He replaced the pony-fantasy of every kid who saw him. I still think today that I might name a future son Bastian.
The book is interesting but a bit too long and moralistic. Also, I suspect the translation doesn’t to justice to its elaborate twists and turns.
Favorite not-in-the-book moment: Luck Dragon’s face & voice.
*Alex hums Limahl*
#6 The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje

One of my favorite movies, which not even Ondaatje’s beautiful prose could dethrone.
Favorite not-in-the-book moment: Kip shows Hana the frescos in an abandoned church.
#7 The Commitments by Roddy Doyle

The book was ok, but very short and didn’t allow as much characterization as the movie did. Still, it was the music that made the movie surpass the novel, big time. One of my favorite soundtracks.
Favorite not-in-the-book moments: “What are your influences?”
#8 Out of Africa by Karen Blixen
I gave up on the book half-way through it. It was a similar experience to The Painted Veil: the movie created expectation which the book didn’t live up to.
Favorite not-in-the-book moment: Karen tells the story of the wandering Chinese.
#9 The Constant Gardener by John Le Carré
The movie had an emotional punch that Le Carré almost detached tone couldn’t match. I’m not a big fan of spy stories/thrillers, but the movie managed to be oh so much more than that. My girl-crush with Rachel Weisz started here.
Favorite not-in-the-book moment: pregnant Tess walks around Nairobi.
#10 The Last of the Mohicans by James Fenimore Cooper
The movie gives pace to Cooper’s slow burning narration (so dry, so dry…). Have you read Mark Twain’s essay criticizing Cooper? Is as hilarious as only a sharp review written by a smart person can be. A great example:
Every time a Cooper person is in peril, and absolute silence is worth four dollars a minute, he is sure to step on a dry twig. There may be a hundred other handier things to step on, but that wouldn’t satisfy Cooper. Cooper requires him to turn out and find a dry twig; and if he can’t do it, go and borrow one. In fact, the Leatherstocking Series ought to have been called the Broken Twig Series.
Favorite not-in-the-book moment: “No, you submit, do you hear? You be strong, you survive… You stay alive, no matter what occurs! I will find you. No matter how long it takes, no matter how far, I will find you.” *sigh*
What are yours?
Istanbul: A Reading List
December 3, 2010 in book talk, onetwotheme | Tags: book list, challenges, fiction, istanbul, listopia, on reading, one-two-theme, random | 11 comments
If one had but a single glance to give the world, one should gaze on Istanbul.
Alphonse de Lamartine
We fell in love with the Istanbul from the moment we entered its outskirts on a bus from Bulgaria. The layers of civilizations, the meeting-point of cultures, the insane round-the-clock movement, the salty ayrans, the mystery of the inner rooms of the Topkapi Palace, but most of all, we fell in love with the light. It’s the kind of light I only remember seeing in my Lisbon. Very difficult to describe, but someone told me it has a scientific explanation, something to do with the latitude, longitude and proximity of large bodies of water. On and off we play with the possibility of moving there for a while (unlikely with our jobs), but all the same we’re planning to return in 2011 to explore it further.
From that first visit I started to read fiction set in Istanbul and its previous incarnations as Byzantium and Constantinople, so when Joanna and I decided to create the “One, Two, Theme Challenge” I instantly knew what my top-theme would be.
After some research and going through my TBR I finally decided on a reading list, which turned out to be a liiiitle beyond the needed 6 books. Other books might be added along the way, so please feel free to give me more suggestions, especially on modern history (I know I have a knowledge-gap there) and graphic novels.
(first stab at)
A Reading List for “One, Two, Theme” Challenge
Theme 6: Byzantium/Constantinople/Ottoman Empire/Istanbul
NON-FICTION
- Sailing from Byzantium: How a Lost Empire Shaped the World by Colin Wells (TBR)
- Byzantium: The Surprising Life of a Medieval Empire by Judith Herrin (TBR)
- Lords of the Horizons: A History of the Ottoman Empire by Jason Goodwin (TBR)
- Istanbul: Memories and the City by Orhan Pamuk
FICTION
- The Sultan’s Seal (Kamil Pasha, #1) by Jenny White
- The Abyssinian Proof (Kamil Pasha, #2) by Jenny White (TBR)
- Birds Without Wings by Louis de Bernières (TBR)
- My Name Is Red by Orhan Pamuk (TBR)
- Baudolino by Umberto Eco (TBR audiobook)
- The Flea Palace by Elif Şafak
- Bliss: A Novel by Zülfü Livaneli
Any further suggestions welcome!
Listopia: tell-me-more secondary characters
August 11, 2010 in book talk | Tags: listopia, on reading | 6 comments
An Instance of the Fingerpost is taking me ages to finish. After a week I’m barely 1/4 in. I’m seeing my 2010 resolution of reading at least one more book than last year slip away. It’s hard coming back from holidays…
So while stalling, I’m making literary lists, which everyone knows is the best thing after reading and browsing books. Since reading Cranford for the read-long, I’ve been thinking about my favorite intriguing secondary characters, aka “I wish they got their own story” list. I’ve always loved a good best friend, sidekick and minor cast member and often feel my eyes following them more than the main characters. In no particular order:
Faramir, Steward of Gondor from The Lord of the Rings
“War must be, while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would devour all; but I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend: the city of the Men of Númenor.”
Faramir was the secondary character that made me appreciate secondary characters. He wasn’t planned – according to Tolkien he took a life of his own and became one of his favorite characters. He’s a warrior who favors peace, a scholar who lived and learned with Gandalf himself. He carries a lot of weight on his shoulders, after all, he was the one who stayed behind holding the fort. He loves his country, his family, and to top it, he loves one of the only strong female characters in the series. I’d like a whole series based on his life before and after LOTR.
“Nicholas – clean, tidied (if only at the pump-trough), and quiet spoken–was a new creature to her, who had only seen him in the rough independence of his own hearthstone.”
He’s a working class man fighting for what he believes. He has a strict moral code but no problem in admitting when he’s wrong. He has a great relationship with his daughters. He’s ready to raise the kids of a man he didn’t respect because he feels workers should stick together. His good sense is also able to put clueless (and often annoying) Margaret in her place. I’d like to know about his childhood, his marriage, how he managed to raise two girls after his wife died, how he became so interested in socialist ideals. Although only a secondary character, for me he stole the show.
Professor McGonagall in the Harry Potter series
The firs’-years, Professor McGonagall,’ said Hagrid.
‘Thank-you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.’
And she did. The perfect authority figure and she’s cool to top it. Tell me more! What was she like as a student? Likely she was the Hermione of her time – or even better.
Richard from the Lymond series
“(…) running his home of Midculter, raising his children, sustaining, year after year, the blows which fell without warning, the traps which opened, the doors which shut in his face because of his brother Crawford of Lymond.”
Another with a Faramir-like syndrome (do I see pattern here?). What do you do when you’re the brother of one of the most fascinating, self-obsessed and complex characters in historic fiction (Lymond said of himself: I lack intellectual humility. A good thing to be without.)? You become the family’s rock, you become an expert in putting out fires and counting slowly to 50. Dorothy Dunnett does wonders with the people orbiting around Lymond but Richard is the one I’d invite over for a nice Belgian beer.
He’s a fellow book-lover and he’s not afraid to be the eccentric in a village where tradition is law. He goes to Paris when everyone is expecting him to sit quietly waiting for death. Respect! What was he like as a young man? Does he have many regrets? What did he think of Paris? Gaskell should have written his memoires.
She may be an obvious choice, but Mary is one of those characters who has a life beyond (and sometimes different from) what the author meant. Behind the holier-than-thou façade, there’s a need to impress that’s moving. She’s stuck between the two wise, pretty ones and the two young, outgoing ones and you get the feeling no one really gives her a chance. Mary deserves her 5 minutes of fame, as a lot of fanfic authors out would agree. Another character in similar circumstances is Flavia’s sister Dauphne in The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie.
After reading the above I found interesting the similarities among the male characters. I never liked the bad boys and always went for the steady types, so I guess that’s reflected in my literary tastes
Any interesting secondary characters I forgot?
























