Currently reading - and totally enjoying - Apocalypse Bebe by Virginie Despentes

This is going to be quite a pointless post, but since I don't have any follower yet, I guess I can go on like this for a little longer. I'm currently reading Apocalypse Baby by Virginie Despentes - just published in Italy by Einaudi, still not available in English - and I'm freaking loving it. I really needed some enjoyable, fun reading made of light violence and unlikely inquiries. And it's well written. So, what more could I ask for? Actually I wasn't expecting to like this book at all. All the reviews I have read about it were full of disappointment and criticism. But what were they expecting from this book? Punctilious investigation methodologies? A precise, complicated crime story? Because it's not. Reminded me of Lansdale's Hap&Leo. With a white lesbian version of Leo and a short and long-haired Hap. And less racism, of course, since it's set in France.

A few days ago my flat-mate told me I always like everything, when it comes to books. But that's not true at all. I just don't see the point in reading stuff I don't like. That's why I shut lots of books before page 50. If I don't like it, I don't read it, nor I want to talk about it. And I'm pretty picky about my readings, so it feels weird to be called 'One who likes everything'.

And afterall, I made this post even more pointless than it was supposed to be. Oh, well. Anyway.

Five quarters of the orange - Joanne Harris

So, I've just finished reading Five quarters of the orange by Joanne Harris, first published in 2001 by Doubleday. What do I have to say about it? First of all, the translation was not so good. Which is something you really wouldn't care about, unless you're reading it in Italian. But, well, so I did, therefore I care. But aside from that, it's been an intense and strong reading.

Tha main character is Framboise, a 65 years old woman who runs an old fashioned restaurant in the middle of a French village. She is harsh and reticent and at the same time, terribly frail, prisoner of a secret she's been keeping since she was only a child. Her mother was accused, during the German occupation, of being responsible for the massacre of several fellow citizen, for she had killed a german soldier. She escaped with her three children – Cassis, Reine-Claude and Framboise – and no-one knew what had become of them. But after the death of her husband, Framboise turns back to the village that saw her mother blamed. She doesn't even know why, but it's like she held her inner desire of returning home for all her life, until she couldn't bear it anymore. And she did turn back, carefully hiding her identity and mingling with the unawaer pupulation. No-one could recognise her and no-one suspected. But then, something happened.

This is a wonderfully conceived book. The narration of Framboise's childood perfectly links with her present. I love strong, well-constructed female characters. And of course I adore Framboise. If you read about her, believe me, you will love her as much as I do.

Joanne Harris, for those who don't know, is the author of the incredibly successful and marvellous novel Chocolat. And many other masterpieces such as Blackberry Wine, which I highly recommend you to read.

My very first post on this blog

... which no-one is really going to read. But I'm fine with that, after all I'm just starting up this new blog. And it's a book-blog. Of course. What else would I want to talk about? I know that there are many more and I understand that this world surely doesn't need another one. But sometimes I feel that there's nothing I care about as much as I care about books. And related topics. Such as translation of books. Or book covers. Or the magic world of publishing. Or cats. Yes, I do care about cats. And I enjoy a good cup of coffee. Especially if I can sip it calmly, while reading a book. And here we are again.

So, I'm a blogger. Not that this lousy post makes me a blogger, but I already have another blog I've been nurturing for more than a year. Obviously about books - what else? And it's a nice blog and I love it. A decent amount of followers, nice discussions about books-related topics. Not to mention that I've recently learnt how to create new pages.
But lately I've been feeling like I'm missing something and I've come to think that this 'something' could be the rest of the world. I mean, I live in Italy. And it's not that I don't like my country, but, you know, this is not the most book-friendly place on Earth. Only the 10% of the whole population reads more than 1 book per year. Isn't that terrible? Only the 10%. One person out of ten doesn't read. And this awareness scares the hell out of me. I know I may be exaggerating, but I can't help looking at non-readers as if they're zombies. I don't understand them. I can't imagine how it is inside their non-reading heads. How can they breathe and walk and speak, even although they've never met Jane Austen, Laura Chant, Coraline, Harry Potter or... well, I could go on for ages, but I think I'd better stop here.
The point is, I want to discuss about books with non-Italian people. That's why I created this blog. During the next days I'll try to translate all my old reviews at the best of my ability. Which means that they'll be poorly translated, at least at first. I sincerely hope I'll improve my English while writing here, but in the meantime I'll delight you with nice pictures found on the Internet. 'Cause I'm clever.
But it's time to sleep now, so good night and good books.