“One Hundred Twenty-One Days”: a fairy tale, Africa, Paris, Strasbourg. Lists of papers in an archive, lists written in a notebook preserved for a future researcher to find, registries of visitors to academic institutions in France, scene re-created, imagined from a photograph, excerpts from a diary or two. Marriage announcements, birth announcements, death announcements. People, mostly mathematicians and the people in their lives. Men horribly injured, physically or mentally in war; the women who care for them. Clues about what it meant to be Jewish or Catholic in mid-20th Century France and Germany. WWI and WWII.
Michele Audin, a novelist (deemed a “brilliant mathematician” on the book’s cover so it must be true) constructed the novel based on the above random subjects several of which are enough in themselves to be the basis for a novel. I picked up the book on the “Suggested Reading” table at my local library. Further, I learned that the author belongs to Oulipo and I learned, sort of, what that is. Anyway, Michele Audin’s beautifully arranged fragments remind me that fragments can make a spell-binding story. I’m assembling in a story about which I want to know more. Therefore, I’m writing it.
I read hungrily in general but especially now I’m very keen to read not only the books, but about authors’ who are showing-telling-sharing about craft, work, vocation, writing, the environments of their lives. Each time I do, it’s like a mini-moment MFA, a degree I don’t have, but imagine that spending time with noted authors is part of being enrolled in one.
This week I met Guy Gunaratne and his debut novel: In “Our Mad and Furious City” (New Yorker, 1/14/2019). He’s a British guy with Pakistani roots. I’m intrigued by the article’s description of Gunaratne’s inventive use of the English language (New Yorker, 1/14/2019). I want to read the book for that and for the culture of the world Gunaratne creates, immigrants grabbing for a toehold in a country no longer new to them.
The latest New Yorker (1/28/2019) has a story about Marlon James who creates amazing worlds filled with pow! and patois about Jamaica where he grew up and still calls home along while he lives in St. Paul, Minnesota (he teaches at Macalester College) and New York City. He tells his students: “Risk it all.” His latest book is “Black Leopard Red Wolf,” the first of a trilogy. He’s this respected literature writer who’s pulling in sci-fic and monsters this time around. Yup, I want to read it.
I’m not hopping a plane to flee this winter’s weird weather (70-degree temperature change in 24 hours, anyone?). However, I’ve already been to France. I’ll be in London soon with Gunaratne and then in James’ fantastical world. It’s not a beach or a stretch of desert near Tucson. It’s enough for me for now.
I just finished “A Prayer for Owen Meany,” which I’ve been meaning to read for years. What’s my next get-away? Perhaps “Vacationland” by Sarah Stonich or maybe “Ramona” by Helen Hunt Jackson (which has also been on my to-read list for years).
I’ll never forget Owen in the closet under the stairs. I’ll check into the 2nd and 3rd!
You make me want to read!