Flying by the seat of my pants, here’s my book for March: Ian McEwan’s, The Comfort of Strangers. Picked up for free on a neighbour’s wall, alongside Sebastian Faulk’s Birdsong and The Dictionary of Indoor Plants by the Royal Horticultural Society. I’ve read quite a bit of McEwan’s work, particularly his short stories. Of course, their being ‘short’ is a major plus of his books but I’m always amazed at how much back story he manages to pack into the lives and relationships of his characters and I like novels that traverse time (probably the historian in me).
Between finishing off work, planning a career change, applying for jobs, preparing for interviews and chasing after a toddler I’ve have little time or energy for updating the blog or reading this month. At only 125 pages The Comfort of Strangers is just about doable – only the last few chapters to go now. I suspect next month’s back will also be a short one.
My book for February, Londoners by Craig Taylor, was a good read, packed with stories albeit some more interesting than others. I certainly wasn’t left longing to be back there (shitty digs, extortionate rents, not being home much before 8pm, black muck up your nose, no thanks!) But it did make me a teensy-bit nostalgic for that ‘other’ London, I remember: those walks across Waterloo Bridge, when your heart skips and you fall in love with the city all over again; living in Bloomsbury and having everything at my feet; the smell of Greek and Turkish grill wafting down Green Lanes on long, hot, summer days and swimming on the Heath.