Clockwise from top left:
- A biography of Richard Yates. I've been in love with this American writer since I read Revolutionary Road. It's a pretty thick book and I read it little by little, because I don't want to finish reading it.
- An autobiographical novel by the aforementioned author. actually, a lot of his stories are autobiographical.
- A copy of Banana Yoshimoto's novel, Kitchen. I read this novel more than 20 years ago and for some reason had a craving to read it again. I couldn't bother to order a Japanese copy so bought an English translation instead (10p on Amazon.) Still an enjoyable read.
- A Japanese magazine ku:nel, November 2003 issue. I have always, always loved magazines. This one survived a few clutter clearing and traveled to England with me. I would go back to read it time to time and still there is always something new for me.
- A book about kitchens. Not just kitchens but kitchens of good cooks. It's not a kind of kitchen you would see in ELLE DECO or a kind that Nigella carries out her performance at in her denim jacket (who wears a denim jacket while cooking!?), but practical, workable, achievable everyday kitchens. A kitchen tells a lot about that person and I enjoy looking at good kitchens.
Post posting(?) on 13th May 2013
I changed my opinion about number 3. It WAS enjoyable at first, but then it became a painful read. It reminded me why I stopped reading her novels or short stories in the first place.
Banana Yoshimoto can capture luminous moments in life. Her unique point of view is refreshing. However, she goes on and on about a character's feeling or somthing for two pages and I'm like "How much more do you have to explain why the girl is sad?"
Ms Yoshimoto has the tendency to do that; explaining everything. And it's so dull. It almost feels like she doesn't trust the readers so she underlines important bits by a marker pen to indicate where we should be looking at, or she is a control freak who wants to dictate the reader to feel exactly the way she wants them to. I think a good writing doesn't explain. It would simply show us, leave it to us and let us figure out.
So unfortunately, this book went straight to a nearby Oxfam.
