Read both following volumes of Peter May’s Lewis trilogy, The Lewis Man and The Chessmen. The stories remain focussed on the same few characters as in the first volume, with some predictable developments and a rather heavy borrowing to the local history in the shape of a peat-bog mommy or a plane crash. And of the terrible early 20th Century policies of dispatching orphans throughout Scotland without ever checking on their well-being. Rather disappointing in the end with way too many convenient coincidences, implausible twists of fate, and larger than life characters. (And very artificial dialogues of teenagers, either in the 1980’s or in the 2010’s.) Read also two remarkable Tanizaki’s short stories, Fumiko’s feet and The mermaid’s lament. Which demonstrate impressive writing style. And his Diary of a mad old man, written in a completely different way, about an hypochondriac old man obsessed by his son’s wife, who negotiates glimpses at the highest price. It reminded me of Kawabata’s Sound of the Mountain, although the later is much more ambiguous on that relation. (Obviously not the only one to note the similarities.)
Moved the title of this recurring post to add another horseman for another year. Next round, if any, I will have to borrow a fifth horseman from Terry Pratchett!
Had another great lunch at KGB, in the Odéon district of Paris, which stands for Kitchen Gallery Bis and has no obvious Russian connections. Both the surprise collection of primi piatti (incl. a wagyu bouillon and a cold squid salad) and the half-baked tuna were original and an avalanche of flavours. I skipped the desert, centred on rhubarb, as this is our current fare, making fresh rhubarb [from the farmers’ market] marmalade once or twice a week (with a heavy spoonful of ginger).
Watched part of The Mother, a total waste of time as another action movie with implausible situations, a complete disregard to real life constraints, and the permanent glorification of guns.
Xi'an's Og 