I read a novel today

Here it is:

"At night, in Bezons, Charrault awakened his three brothers-in-law from their conjugal beds by firing at their windows."

(From Novels in Three Lines, Felix Feneon)

Fee fi fo fum

I have all the ingredients for a perfect Sunday evening.
I have a novel (The Portrait of a Lady), a bowl of Special K (with hot milk!) and cosy jammies.
BUT our neighbour has decided to watch some war flick at top volume so that it sounds to me and my brother like a giant ( à la LilyD above in Pucci) is whispering at us.
This ruins the effect somehow.
(picsource:tFS)

Cocteau and Library Books

Happy (exam season) Saturday

The best of Dublin's (big) bookshops

(image source)
I had an afternoon off today so I thought I'd go into town and spend money I don't have on books I shouldn't have time to read. Anyway my book buying technique is complex to say the least and takes me over both sides of the city and into practically every bookshop I come across so I thought I'd do a really quick review of some of them.

Here, have a disclaimer: I'm only going to be talking about the BIG bookshops here leaving out the smaller, independent and specialist shops in the city. Not because they don't rock, they do and International Books on South Frederick Street practically owns my soul but it is essay season so I should really be doing something else...

1. Hodges Figgis
For me any productive day's book buying starts in Hodges Figgis on Dawson Street. It's my go to store for classics and history. Best bit? The loyalty card which gives you 10euro off once you fill it up.

2. Waterstones
Across the street from HF we have Waterstones which has, hands down, the best contemporary fiction section in the city. No doubt about it Waterstones buyers know what they're doing and when I just need a lit-fic fix to tide more over on a Saturday that's where I head.

3. Reads
Around the corner from the first two there is Reads. Now I'll be honest I rarely buy books in Reads, the brash red interior is just not conducive to happy browsing, but they do have they best magazine selection in the city and that's where I go for my ParisVogue. (and stationary downstairs).

4. Easons
Across the Liffey now to Easons on O'Connell Street. As with Reads I very rarely buy actual books in Easons though if you're looking for your Marian Keyes or Cecelia Ahernes I guess this would be the place for you. Also they stock ID up too high for a shorty like me to juggle through to get the cover I want.

5. Chapters
Chapters bookshop on Parnell Street is just excellent. I'd say it's my favourite in the city. It's cheap and has a great classics section with actual choice in the publications in case you don't want the boring old Penguin edition, for 10bloodyeuro. Also it has a great location. The shop's advertising points out its proximity to Rotunda Hospital but I prefer to concentrate on its proximity to Lidl which means that you can stock up on yummy, cheap chocolate after you get your books.

hey dude WE love you and your family sucks

(pic source)
Sort of inspired by this.
I was trying to think of my literary pet hates but the only one that really springs to mind right now has to do with reviews.
In fact there are two.
Firstly reviews that use the first person plural, like "we at randomcrappymagazinewithstupidstylerules totally dig Clive Owen and want him in our (collective *wink*) pants". Shut up please.
Also if your review starts with a reference to the opening line of Anna Karenina I will be taking note of your address and doing harm to your pets.

abandon hope...oh! that's the other one.

There is really nothing better than a wrecked, cracked and ruined library book.
Sure I could have found a newer, better copy of Purgatorio (I probably could have found one in Italian too but that's a whole other story) but I'd just feel weird to be the one to crack the spine of a library book.
Of course the danger is that I convince myself that I'm the one who has read it and instead of studying I spend my evenings listening to Laura Marling and watching old episodes of QI.
But I'd never do that. Never.

hazy saturdaynight/sundaymorning reflections

It seems that Flaubert hated doctors as I hate lawyers.
Really if you want to have any sort of respect for the professional classes don't be born into a family of them.

"On l'avait trop saigné à l'hôpital, pour la fièvre jaune.
Quatre médecins le tenaient à la fois. Il était mort
immédiatement, et le chef avait dit:
-- Bon! encore un!"

("Un Coeur Simple", Gustave Flaubert)

Now, at whatever hour this is and for no particular reason, on to Faulkner who loved Madame Bovary so much he read it once a year which is not an entirely horrible trait for a writer to have.

"she is too fond of books, and it has turned her brain"

The snow has seen to it that all weekend plans have been cancelled. So instead I'm going to settle down with cosy things and novels.
If only I could find somewhere toasty in which to hide.
In reality, despite my constant posturing to the contrary, I am just a country girl lost in the city and I don't know what to do with this weather and my books without a real live fire.
I've succeeded in making the light in my room cast a soft orange glow round the walls but my fingers and toes are still cold and my cheeks aren't rosy.
It's not the "atmosphere" I'm used to.
I guess I'll just have to depend on the stories and the wine.

(image: Renoir's La Liseuse)