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<i>I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads.</i>
From the moment the great storm of 1987 almost blew six-year-old Nick Hunt away, he has had the urge to travel. So many travel books are on the market, it is difficult to produce something new and exciting, but after coming across an interesting map of Europe, Hunt was determined to go on a journey that not many have attempted before. With a map listing the named winds of Europe, Hunt sets off on a quixotic quest to follow the winds.
Beginning in the Pennine Mountains, Nick Hunt takes the reader on a personal journey through the continent as he explores the towns and valleys the winds flow through whilst hoping the elusive tempests will occur so that he can experience them himself. With a mix of euphoria and disappointment, Hunt details his arduous journey providing additional knowledge along the way.
Some winds are more evanescent than others – one, discouragingly, not appearing at all – whereas one is so strong, Hunt witnesses a waterfall being blown upwards. Ignoring the warnings of the locals, Hunt, dead set on completing what he intended to do, takes us on a long walk from Italy to Croatia, a trek through the Alpine valleys of Switzerland, and a final expedition to the south of France.
Wind may seem like an odd topic to write a book about, but the Helm, Bora, Foehn and Mistral are no ordinary breezes. Their violence makes Hunt’s journey a dangerous and daring endeavour and is full of stories about past disasters that have occurred as a result of the strong, temperamental weather.
As well as teaching us about these four winds, Nick Hunt has collected facts and stories about the general areas he passes through. Personal stories of the inhabitants break up Hunt’s narrative, however, myths, legends, history and superstitions frequent the lengthy chapters as much as the winds themselves.
Giving wind a name provides it with a personality, as though it is something tangible that can be met and observed. Nick Hunt notes that artists such as Turner and Constable were interested in the weather and fascinated by the effects the wind had on the surrounding landscape. Another artist that was affected by the weather was Vincent Van Gogh - some of his paintings took place in France in the midst of the powerful Mistral. Just as the wind can be seen in his starry night skies, the scenery in France is evocative of a Van Gogh painting.
The winds do not only affect the lands they blow through, they have a strong impact on the wellbeing of the inhabitants. Some experience physical symptoms such as headaches, nose bleeds, dry skin and so forth, whereas others find themselves growing irritable, depressed and confused. The author himself has the opportunity to undergo the effects of these winds. Hunt also puts forward the suggestion that Van Gogh’s deteriorating mental health was a direct consequence of residing in the path of the Mistral.
From witchcraft to the Greek god Aeolus, there are a number of theories about why these strong winds blow. There are, of course, meteorological explanations, which Hunt attempts to explain, but admits he finds it as baffling as the next person. Regardless of the reason, these winds exist and it is captivating to learn about this aspect of Europe.
<i>Where the Wild Winds Are: Walking Europe’s Winds from the Pennines to Provence</i> is a fantastic, beautifully written book. Nick Hunt’s narrative is so personal that it becomes more than a travel documentation or informative non-fiction. As we read, we really get a sense of the emotions and physical hardship Hunt experienced, yet, at the same time, learn so much about European culture as well as, of course, Europe’s winds. Whether or not you are interested in travelling, this book will take you on a journey you will never forget.
From the moment the great storm of 1987 almost blew six-year-old Nick Hunt away, he has had the urge to travel. So many travel books are on the market, it is difficult to produce something new and exciting, but after coming across an interesting map of Europe, Hunt was determined to go on a journey that not many have attempted before. With a map listing the named winds of Europe, Hunt sets off on a quixotic quest to follow the winds.
Beginning in the Pennine Mountains, Nick Hunt takes the reader on a personal journey through the continent as he explores the towns and valleys the winds flow through whilst hoping the elusive tempests will occur so that he can experience them himself. With a mix of euphoria and disappointment, Hunt details his arduous journey providing additional knowledge along the way.
Some winds are more evanescent than others – one, discouragingly, not appearing at all – whereas one is so strong, Hunt witnesses a waterfall being blown upwards. Ignoring the warnings of the locals, Hunt, dead set on completing what he intended to do, takes us on a long walk from Italy to Croatia, a trek through the Alpine valleys of Switzerland, and a final expedition to the south of France.
Wind may seem like an odd topic to write a book about, but the Helm, Bora, Foehn and Mistral are no ordinary breezes. Their violence makes Hunt’s journey a dangerous and daring endeavour and is full of stories about past disasters that have occurred as a result of the strong, temperamental weather.
As well as teaching us about these four winds, Nick Hunt has collected facts and stories about the general areas he passes through. Personal stories of the inhabitants break up Hunt’s narrative, however, myths, legends, history and superstitions frequent the lengthy chapters as much as the winds themselves.
Giving wind a name provides it with a personality, as though it is something tangible that can be met and observed. Nick Hunt notes that artists such as Turner and Constable were interested in the weather and fascinated by the effects the wind had on the surrounding landscape. Another artist that was affected by the weather was Vincent Van Gogh - some of his paintings took place in France in the midst of the powerful Mistral. Just as the wind can be seen in his starry night skies, the scenery in France is evocative of a Van Gogh painting.
The winds do not only affect the lands they blow through, they have a strong impact on the wellbeing of the inhabitants. Some experience physical symptoms such as headaches, nose bleeds, dry skin and so forth, whereas others find themselves growing irritable, depressed and confused. The author himself has the opportunity to undergo the effects of these winds. Hunt also puts forward the suggestion that Van Gogh’s deteriorating mental health was a direct consequence of residing in the path of the Mistral.
From witchcraft to the Greek god Aeolus, there are a number of theories about why these strong winds blow. There are, of course, meteorological explanations, which Hunt attempts to explain, but admits he finds it as baffling as the next person. Regardless of the reason, these winds exist and it is captivating to learn about this aspect of Europe.
<i>Where the Wild Winds Are: Walking Europe’s Winds from the Pennines to Provence</i> is a fantastic, beautifully written book. Nick Hunt’s narrative is so personal that it becomes more than a travel documentation or informative non-fiction. As we read, we really get a sense of the emotions and physical hardship Hunt experienced, yet, at the same time, learn so much about European culture as well as, of course, Europe’s winds. Whether or not you are interested in travelling, this book will take you on a journey you will never forget.
Lucy Buglass (45 KP) rated Welcome Home (2018) in Movies
Jun 20, 2019
The holiday from hell
We’ve all had holidays that didn’t go according to plan, but George Ratliff’s new thriller takes this idea to a whole new level. Welcome Home follows couple Cassie and Bryan as they travel to Italy together. They’ve rented a secluded, spacious home for a few days, so they can spend some quality time together. So far, so simple. However, it’s soon revealed that they’ve been having relationship problems due to Cassie having a drunken one night stand. It’s clear that this isn’t going to be an easy trip for them, and that’s before we meet the real threat.
Aaron Paul and Emily Ratajkowski are great in the lead roles. They feel like your everyday, plausible couple who are simply trying to repair their relationship. I found myself rooting for them and hoping they could reconnect throughout. Despite the slow pacing in places, I did genuinely care about them as characters. Without the strength of their acting, I think this film might have struggled in places as some of it seemed to drag or could’ve easily been cut out. Welcome Home does have similarities to the 2008 film The Strangers, in which see a strained relationship set within a secluded summer home, with the couple being terrorised by masked murderers.
This film’s antagonist, Frederico, is less ambiguous than that, and instead spends time with the couple and tries to befriend them in order to gain their trust. Cassie is a lot more receptive to this than Bryan, who is distrustful of Frederico after he brought Cassie back to the house when she sprained her ankle whilst running. He believes something else is going on, based on the one night stand. At first they believe he’s a neighbour, so nothing really seems out of the ordinary. Then, it starts to get weird. He says some strange things and starts showing up uninvited, even running into them on the street and deciding to turn up to the house to cook dinner.
Every second that Frederico’s on the screen is an uncomfortable one, and you know he’s not the innocent person he’s pretending to be. It’s only a matter of time before his true intentions are revealed to the couple, putting them both in danger. Italian actor Riccardo Scamarcio really blew me away in this film and I’m excited to see more from him.
Although it takes a while to get going, the second and third act of Welcome Home is a tense and unnerving experience. Frederico goes from friendly, helpful neighbour to a creepy psychopath very quickly, and it turns out he has very dark intentions for the couple. He spends the film manipulating them and turning them against each other. I won’t spoil it for you, but it turns this couple’s holiday into a complete nightmare. I did quite like the big reveal at the end, though it seems a little far-fetched it’s not beyond the realms of possibility given the digital age that we live in. This fact is emphasised by the voyeuristic nature of the camera, how we’re always peeking around doors or watching things we shouldn’t be.
I have seen stronger thrillers with better pacing, but Welcome Home is certainly an entertaining watch if you’re looking for a new, exciting story with a strong cast list. It puts a fun twist on your classic home invasion horror, with a charming, magnetic antagonist to really lure you in. I’d recommend giving it a go if you get the opportunity, as it’s worth it for the characters and the ending.
https://lucygoestohollywood.com/2018/11/13/the-holiday-from-hell-a-review-of-welcome-home/
Aaron Paul and Emily Ratajkowski are great in the lead roles. They feel like your everyday, plausible couple who are simply trying to repair their relationship. I found myself rooting for them and hoping they could reconnect throughout. Despite the slow pacing in places, I did genuinely care about them as characters. Without the strength of their acting, I think this film might have struggled in places as some of it seemed to drag or could’ve easily been cut out. Welcome Home does have similarities to the 2008 film The Strangers, in which see a strained relationship set within a secluded summer home, with the couple being terrorised by masked murderers.
This film’s antagonist, Frederico, is less ambiguous than that, and instead spends time with the couple and tries to befriend them in order to gain their trust. Cassie is a lot more receptive to this than Bryan, who is distrustful of Frederico after he brought Cassie back to the house when she sprained her ankle whilst running. He believes something else is going on, based on the one night stand. At first they believe he’s a neighbour, so nothing really seems out of the ordinary. Then, it starts to get weird. He says some strange things and starts showing up uninvited, even running into them on the street and deciding to turn up to the house to cook dinner.
Every second that Frederico’s on the screen is an uncomfortable one, and you know he’s not the innocent person he’s pretending to be. It’s only a matter of time before his true intentions are revealed to the couple, putting them both in danger. Italian actor Riccardo Scamarcio really blew me away in this film and I’m excited to see more from him.
Although it takes a while to get going, the second and third act of Welcome Home is a tense and unnerving experience. Frederico goes from friendly, helpful neighbour to a creepy psychopath very quickly, and it turns out he has very dark intentions for the couple. He spends the film manipulating them and turning them against each other. I won’t spoil it for you, but it turns this couple’s holiday into a complete nightmare. I did quite like the big reveal at the end, though it seems a little far-fetched it’s not beyond the realms of possibility given the digital age that we live in. This fact is emphasised by the voyeuristic nature of the camera, how we’re always peeking around doors or watching things we shouldn’t be.
I have seen stronger thrillers with better pacing, but Welcome Home is certainly an entertaining watch if you’re looking for a new, exciting story with a strong cast list. It puts a fun twist on your classic home invasion horror, with a charming, magnetic antagonist to really lure you in. I’d recommend giving it a go if you get the opportunity, as it’s worth it for the characters and the ending.
https://lucygoestohollywood.com/2018/11/13/the-holiday-from-hell-a-review-of-welcome-home/
Hazel (1853 KP) rated The Ice-Cream Makers in Books
Dec 14, 2018
<i>I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads.</i>
An intriguing blurb promises an incredible story about an Italian ice-cream making family, however the story is nothing like you expect. Ernest van der Kwast’s <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> is set between a small village in Italy and the busy summer streets of Rotterdam. The Talamini family has been creating innovative ice-cream flavours for over a century, running a successful and hard-working parlour in the Netherlands. The business is handed down from father to son throughout the years, but now eldest son Giovanni has broken the tradition.
Giovanni Talamini has no interest in making ice-cream and would much rather spend the day reading poetry. After pursuing a literary career, Giovanni is now the director of the World Poetry Festival. Younger brother Luca has been left to pick up the <i>spatula</i> of the family business, but he has a problem of his own. Giovanni faces a dilemma: cut himself of from his family entirely or help his brother out with his peculiar request.
The highly unusual request mentioned in the blurb of <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> does not actually surface until the latter stages of the book. For the majority of the narrative there is no clear storyline, however the detail and information van der Kwast provides about ice-cream making, poetry and European culture makes the novel entirely worth reading. The request itself is entirely unexpected and not at all possible to guess, but it is an oddly brilliant way of reuniting two estranged brothers.
It takes a while for the narrative to start flowing as it constantly changes time periods. Giovanni, the narrator, rarely speaks in the present tense and is constantly relating events from his childhood and adulthood interspersed with family history and historical knowledge. On occasion the book takes on the air of an autobiography as Giovanni gives an in depth insight to the life of his family and his break from tradition. There is also the odd chapter that becomes almost a work of non-fiction, providing the reader with highbrow literary references and factual information about the history of ice-cream.
Once the scenes caused by the male sexual mind have been glossed over, <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> becomes a beautifully written, almost poetical story that compels and engages the reader despite the lack of a clear-cut storyline. The literary references will appeal to the intellectual, scholar, philosopher or culture enthusiast, for this novel teaches and inspires as well as entertains.
The amount of research van der Kwast conducted is phenomenal. The accuracy (or so is presumed) of the historical factors implies the author had thoroughly investigated the subject matter prior to writing. It is almost as though van der Kwast lived the life of Giovanni; it is entirely believable – hence the sense of an autobiography. Although the nature of the novel’s theme suggests a serious tone, van der Kwast has included a great deal of humour in the form of Giovanni and Luca’s father and his questionable mental health.
The lack of a climax prevents <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> from being described as an exciting book, however its beautifully poetic prose makes up for this absence. The philosophical insight into poetry will make you think about life and admire Giovanni for insisting on making his own way in the world. Likewise, Luca’s quiet acceptance and perseverance in the family business is also an admirable feat. Readers with a dislike for descriptive sexual scenarios may feel uncomfortable in a few of the resulting scenes, however the general story compensates for these distasteful passages. All in all, a high-quality work of fiction.
An intriguing blurb promises an incredible story about an Italian ice-cream making family, however the story is nothing like you expect. Ernest van der Kwast’s <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> is set between a small village in Italy and the busy summer streets of Rotterdam. The Talamini family has been creating innovative ice-cream flavours for over a century, running a successful and hard-working parlour in the Netherlands. The business is handed down from father to son throughout the years, but now eldest son Giovanni has broken the tradition.
Giovanni Talamini has no interest in making ice-cream and would much rather spend the day reading poetry. After pursuing a literary career, Giovanni is now the director of the World Poetry Festival. Younger brother Luca has been left to pick up the <i>spatula</i> of the family business, but he has a problem of his own. Giovanni faces a dilemma: cut himself of from his family entirely or help his brother out with his peculiar request.
The highly unusual request mentioned in the blurb of <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> does not actually surface until the latter stages of the book. For the majority of the narrative there is no clear storyline, however the detail and information van der Kwast provides about ice-cream making, poetry and European culture makes the novel entirely worth reading. The request itself is entirely unexpected and not at all possible to guess, but it is an oddly brilliant way of reuniting two estranged brothers.
It takes a while for the narrative to start flowing as it constantly changes time periods. Giovanni, the narrator, rarely speaks in the present tense and is constantly relating events from his childhood and adulthood interspersed with family history and historical knowledge. On occasion the book takes on the air of an autobiography as Giovanni gives an in depth insight to the life of his family and his break from tradition. There is also the odd chapter that becomes almost a work of non-fiction, providing the reader with highbrow literary references and factual information about the history of ice-cream.
Once the scenes caused by the male sexual mind have been glossed over, <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> becomes a beautifully written, almost poetical story that compels and engages the reader despite the lack of a clear-cut storyline. The literary references will appeal to the intellectual, scholar, philosopher or culture enthusiast, for this novel teaches and inspires as well as entertains.
The amount of research van der Kwast conducted is phenomenal. The accuracy (or so is presumed) of the historical factors implies the author had thoroughly investigated the subject matter prior to writing. It is almost as though van der Kwast lived the life of Giovanni; it is entirely believable – hence the sense of an autobiography. Although the nature of the novel’s theme suggests a serious tone, van der Kwast has included a great deal of humour in the form of Giovanni and Luca’s father and his questionable mental health.
The lack of a climax prevents <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> from being described as an exciting book, however its beautifully poetic prose makes up for this absence. The philosophical insight into poetry will make you think about life and admire Giovanni for insisting on making his own way in the world. Likewise, Luca’s quiet acceptance and perseverance in the family business is also an admirable feat. Readers with a dislike for descriptive sexual scenarios may feel uncomfortable in a few of the resulting scenes, however the general story compensates for these distasteful passages. All in all, a high-quality work of fiction.
Kirk Bage (1775 KP) rated Call Me by Your Name (2017) in Movies
Mar 3, 2020
There are a swathe of European film-makers like Luca Guadagnino and Paolo Sorrentino that have the skill to make every image they print to film look like a work of art, giving you the feeling you are on the most idyllic holiday you ever had. Watching a largely silent image of a beautiful lake or a tree in the breeze, or an al fresco dinner where family and friends talk freely whilst the wine and olive oil flow is a treat I am not immune to.
Continuing to catch up on Oscar nominated films of recent years I have missed, I went on holiday in 1982 Italy for 2 hours last night. There was culture, architecture, piano music, food, nature, and a big peachy dollop of sensuality – thinly veiled as dramatic cinema. It washed over me like a daydream! And if I say nothing really happens, I wouldn’t necessarily call it a criticism. It ambles along at such a languid pace at times, with such little conflict or incident, but to call it insignificant would be a disservice to the power of love at its palpable heart.
Essentially, it is a right of passage movie, that defies gloriously every hollywood habit of over egging the souffle. For minutes on end we watch Elio, the formidable natural talent of Timothée Chalamet, read a book, go for a swim, ride a bike, play the piano, or fuck some fruit, as he gradually descends into obsession, and ultimately love, for the older Armie Hammer as the aloof and seemingly worldly Oliver, his father’s research assistant for the Summer.
It feels for a long, long time like you might not care, such a tale of rich privilege as it is; but, by the final moments you do realise you have been drawn into the depth of feeling that is often hidden in plain sight, and that you may after all relate to the heartbreak contained in loving an idea of love and passion that is never attainable in reality. The self discovery of a passion within you as a life force is a melancholy reward in and of itself.
I know already that I must return to this film from time to time in a variety of moods, because it has a depth of subtlety that may catch me differently every time; and that is its main power. The key to which is Chalamet. His eyes and body language are so filled with hidden wonders that his words don’t always convey, that his work seems more like a strange dance than your average screen performance, that often simply takes the script and merely reads it aloud.
The remarkable career of Michael Stuhlbarg, as Elio’s father, is also noteworthy here. Take a look at how many great films he has now been a part of and gasp to think, oh wow, that is the same guy! His paternal speech to Elio at the end of this film was a highlight for me. Such gorgeous writing, that combines character with wisdom and weakness in a tapestry of care and regret. Just wonderful.
You know, I came into writing this review feeling that I had found the experience quite disposable and slight. That clearly isn’t the case. This is obviously a film you must watch again, meeting it where it wants to meet you. Not to mention I have always been a Sufjan Stevens fan, and found his contribution to the musical landscape near perfect. In conclusion, there is a banquet here masquerading as a taste of something sweet brushing the lips. I will be back for a second bite in time.
Continuing to catch up on Oscar nominated films of recent years I have missed, I went on holiday in 1982 Italy for 2 hours last night. There was culture, architecture, piano music, food, nature, and a big peachy dollop of sensuality – thinly veiled as dramatic cinema. It washed over me like a daydream! And if I say nothing really happens, I wouldn’t necessarily call it a criticism. It ambles along at such a languid pace at times, with such little conflict or incident, but to call it insignificant would be a disservice to the power of love at its palpable heart.
Essentially, it is a right of passage movie, that defies gloriously every hollywood habit of over egging the souffle. For minutes on end we watch Elio, the formidable natural talent of Timothée Chalamet, read a book, go for a swim, ride a bike, play the piano, or fuck some fruit, as he gradually descends into obsession, and ultimately love, for the older Armie Hammer as the aloof and seemingly worldly Oliver, his father’s research assistant for the Summer.
It feels for a long, long time like you might not care, such a tale of rich privilege as it is; but, by the final moments you do realise you have been drawn into the depth of feeling that is often hidden in plain sight, and that you may after all relate to the heartbreak contained in loving an idea of love and passion that is never attainable in reality. The self discovery of a passion within you as a life force is a melancholy reward in and of itself.
I know already that I must return to this film from time to time in a variety of moods, because it has a depth of subtlety that may catch me differently every time; and that is its main power. The key to which is Chalamet. His eyes and body language are so filled with hidden wonders that his words don’t always convey, that his work seems more like a strange dance than your average screen performance, that often simply takes the script and merely reads it aloud.
The remarkable career of Michael Stuhlbarg, as Elio’s father, is also noteworthy here. Take a look at how many great films he has now been a part of and gasp to think, oh wow, that is the same guy! His paternal speech to Elio at the end of this film was a highlight for me. Such gorgeous writing, that combines character with wisdom and weakness in a tapestry of care and regret. Just wonderful.
You know, I came into writing this review feeling that I had found the experience quite disposable and slight. That clearly isn’t the case. This is obviously a film you must watch again, meeting it where it wants to meet you. Not to mention I have always been a Sufjan Stevens fan, and found his contribution to the musical landscape near perfect. In conclusion, there is a banquet here masquerading as a taste of something sweet brushing the lips. I will be back for a second bite in time.
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