Book-Greed
I am like a greedy person at
a buffet – I picked and collected and never stopped to think how many books I
could keep on the go at the same time. Two or even three are quite normal for
me, one upstairs, one downstairs, one in the loo…
So, now I am looking at my
line-up and wondering which to read, read rather than sample, first:
Klara and the Sun – I absolutely love Ishiguro,
his, restrained, immaculate narrative voice;
A Promise of Ankles by Alexander McCall Smith. He
hooked me in long ago with his Ladies’ Detective Agency books set in Botswana.
Now, I tend to gravitate to all his other books too;
Chronicles from the Land of the Happiest People on
Earth. I can’t resist Wole Soyinka. Having lived in Nigeria for five years
and spent the greater part of my young-adult life somewhere in Africa, Soyinka beckons;
Then there is Amor Towles’s The Lincoln Highway. I expect wry humour and a great story. I
think his A Gentleman in Moscow is one of my all-time favourites. I have
read it three times now;
Burhan Sonmez’s Istanbul, Istanbul is heart
wrenching, narrated as it is from a prison cell, where there is barely standing
room;
Human Traces by Sebastian Faulks – Faulks is
talking about mind and madness. Intriguing as I realise, late in life, that
every single one of us is mad in our unique way;
Since the Riots by
my friend Melissa Jane Knight, is just beginning to draw me in;
A Passage North by
Anit Arudpragasam. Having spent five years in Jaffna and Colombo when I was
just married, this book has to say something nostalgic to me.
But, even for me, the name
of the author is well-nigh unpronounceable.
Eight books, every single
one, promises good writing and interesting stories. I have sampled each and
know there is no wrinkled apple there.
I have decided to pick them
up now, one at a time, and read through. No book-hopping to drive me totally
crazy, I think I will start with The McCall Smith.
MAGIC! That is books. And a
tale of greed.
