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Hazel (1853 KP) rated Where the Wild Winds are: Walking Europe's Winds from the Pennines to Provence in Books
Sep 26, 2017
Fantastic, beautifully written book
I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads.
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.
Where the Wild Winds Are: Walking Europe’s Winds from the Pennines to Provence 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.
Where the Wild Winds Are: Walking Europe’s Winds from the Pennines to Provence 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.
<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.
Emma @ The Movies (1786 KP) rated The Goldfinch (2019) in Movies
Nov 7, 2019
Theo Decker's life is changed forever when a terrorist attack on the Metropolitan Museum of Art destroys everything he holds dear. In the debris he finds a man who pleads with him to take his ring and go to a shop, the last words before he dies.
After leaving the museum he is brough to the home of the Barbours, the only place he seems to be able to think of and they take him in rather than see him become part of the system.
Things should slowly be getting back on track for Theo but the ring wasn't the only thing he took from the museum, in his possession he has The Goldfinch, a priceless painting that will have a hold on him his whole life.
Much like the book the film is not for the faint hearted, 880 pages has become 2 hours and 29 minutes on screen. You could probably cut another chunk off this but that change would inevitable mess with the pace, which I don't think would suit the story all that well.
I wrote a lot of notes as I sat in this film and I've had to reread them all because I can remember the film/story but I can't remember anything about how I felt about it. I left myself a handy note though... "I am incredibly bored by this."
I know that I will never make it through the book, even before the film it wouldn't have been a possibility, but I would like to know what amendments were made to cram the story into that relatively small time frame.
The thing that threw me was Luke Wilson, I don't think I've ever seen him in a dramatic role before, plenty of comedy that I really enjoy but no drama. I can't say this made me want to watch him in this sort of role again. I didn't find him convincing as Theo's dad Larry, at least not convincingly through the film. Alongside him there's Sarah Paulson, she's a great actress but I felt that (while entertaining) her show of Xandra was too over the top for a film with this tone.
Nicole Kidman always brings a character to life and this was no exception but I found the relationship between Mrs Barbour and the kids, particularly Theo, to be confusing and difficult to navigate.
Where do I start with Ansel Elgort... I saw him in Baby Driver, I wasn't a fan, I watched him in this and I wanted to see something better, I don't feel like I got that. Even with the restrained characters actors can still give the role a little glimpse of something to click with but I don't get that from Elgort. There was the briefest flicker when he's confronted by a customer but soon enough it was back to the base level.
On the plus side I found the younger incarnation of Theo, Oakes Fegley, to be very engaging on screen. He worked well with the others and added something a little lighter to the heavy aspects of the film. He worked particularly well with Finn Wolfhard as Boris, though that's another part of the film that stuck out as strange and seemed to hold little meaning other than to allow for the ending to come together.
I'm sure that this is for someone out there, that person was not me though. While it did have a few touching moments here and there I just couldn't make it past the long run time and the slow story.
What you should do
I would only recommend this to people who have read the book.
Movie thing you wish you could take home
A large antiques store to explore.
After leaving the museum he is brough to the home of the Barbours, the only place he seems to be able to think of and they take him in rather than see him become part of the system.
Things should slowly be getting back on track for Theo but the ring wasn't the only thing he took from the museum, in his possession he has The Goldfinch, a priceless painting that will have a hold on him his whole life.
Much like the book the film is not for the faint hearted, 880 pages has become 2 hours and 29 minutes on screen. You could probably cut another chunk off this but that change would inevitable mess with the pace, which I don't think would suit the story all that well.
I wrote a lot of notes as I sat in this film and I've had to reread them all because I can remember the film/story but I can't remember anything about how I felt about it. I left myself a handy note though... "I am incredibly bored by this."
I know that I will never make it through the book, even before the film it wouldn't have been a possibility, but I would like to know what amendments were made to cram the story into that relatively small time frame.
The thing that threw me was Luke Wilson, I don't think I've ever seen him in a dramatic role before, plenty of comedy that I really enjoy but no drama. I can't say this made me want to watch him in this sort of role again. I didn't find him convincing as Theo's dad Larry, at least not convincingly through the film. Alongside him there's Sarah Paulson, she's a great actress but I felt that (while entertaining) her show of Xandra was too over the top for a film with this tone.
Nicole Kidman always brings a character to life and this was no exception but I found the relationship between Mrs Barbour and the kids, particularly Theo, to be confusing and difficult to navigate.
Where do I start with Ansel Elgort... I saw him in Baby Driver, I wasn't a fan, I watched him in this and I wanted to see something better, I don't feel like I got that. Even with the restrained characters actors can still give the role a little glimpse of something to click with but I don't get that from Elgort. There was the briefest flicker when he's confronted by a customer but soon enough it was back to the base level.
On the plus side I found the younger incarnation of Theo, Oakes Fegley, to be very engaging on screen. He worked well with the others and added something a little lighter to the heavy aspects of the film. He worked particularly well with Finn Wolfhard as Boris, though that's another part of the film that stuck out as strange and seemed to hold little meaning other than to allow for the ending to come together.
I'm sure that this is for someone out there, that person was not me though. While it did have a few touching moments here and there I just couldn't make it past the long run time and the slow story.
What you should do
I would only recommend this to people who have read the book.
Movie thing you wish you could take home
A large antiques store to explore.
Gareth von Kallenbach (980 KP) rated Black Sea (2015) in Movies
Aug 6, 2019
Jude Law stars as Robinson, a former submarine captain made redundant after a long career with an underwater salvage company. Left without a pension, and blaming the company for his failed marriage, he learns from a former co-worker that a vast sum of Nazi gold is lying in wait aboard a sunken German U-boat at the bottom of the Black Sea. Upon securing financing and a submarine that has most definitely seen better days, he pulls together a crew of both British and Russian sailors, assuring every man that an equal share of the loot is to be had. Tensions among the crew soon arise and as one character chillingly questions, “What happens when one of them starts to figure out that their share gets bigger, when there is less people to share it with?”
A few too many easy coincidences drive this plot along, but if you’re willing to suspend just a bit of disbelief, there’s a great tale of paranoia, claustrophobia, betrayal and greed beneath the surface. Even through Jude Law’s dodgy Scottish accent, every performance (particularly newcomer Bobby Schofield as the inexperienced Tobin) is top-notch as both he and the supporting cast provide true believability to the disregard and distrust the two groups of men come to have for each other. Between Black Sea and his unexpectedly good turn in Dom Hemingway last year, Jude Law is firmly back on my radar, as he seems to be following in Matthew McConaughey’s footsteps by taking darker, more complex and challenging roles at this point in his career. From playing a father-figure for a boy frightened of what the future holds, to a man possessed of the determination, no matter what the cost, to return home rich, Law hits every note right and is more than capable of leading a cast this talented.
My only substantial complaint is the ending. On leaving the theater, it seemed one of the better solutions to the potential corner the filmmakers were painting themselves into, though the longer its sits, the more I think a film of this unrelenting intensity deserves an ending with some poignancy. Admittedly, I would have found something bleaker to be more satisfying. The easy route out taken in the last five minutes by director Kevin Macdonald and writer Dennis Kelly are a bit of a let-down when compared with the pulse pounding hour and forty-five minutes that precedes it, and for me it will only detract from Black Sea’s memorability.
With the mention of a submarine drama, it is almost inevitable that comparisons to Das Boot will be drawn. For the purposes of reviewing Black Sea however, I have been unable to do so as my only viewing of it was about a decade ago, when I very foolishly had the ambition to see not only the uncut 6-hour mini-series version that was put together for German television, but to do so in a single sitting. I was successful, but only in terms of completing the task. I know it was great and that it is above equal in the genre of submarine films, but at this point I’d be hard pressed to recall even a few minutes of it. It would seem, in this case, that Black Sea got a fair shake to be judged on its own merits (and that I now have a German epic to revisit, albeit in the slightly more truncated director’s cut form this time).
A few nitpicky complaints aside, and in direct contradiction with my take on the abysmally poor Blackhat from the other week, this is a fine example of a well-made, wall-to-wall suspense-filled thriller, and the film I wish I had started the year off with. Released in early December in the UK, where it has received generally positive reviews, it’s unfortunate that it has landed stateside in the January/February season of no-hopes.
A few too many easy coincidences drive this plot along, but if you’re willing to suspend just a bit of disbelief, there’s a great tale of paranoia, claustrophobia, betrayal and greed beneath the surface. Even through Jude Law’s dodgy Scottish accent, every performance (particularly newcomer Bobby Schofield as the inexperienced Tobin) is top-notch as both he and the supporting cast provide true believability to the disregard and distrust the two groups of men come to have for each other. Between Black Sea and his unexpectedly good turn in Dom Hemingway last year, Jude Law is firmly back on my radar, as he seems to be following in Matthew McConaughey’s footsteps by taking darker, more complex and challenging roles at this point in his career. From playing a father-figure for a boy frightened of what the future holds, to a man possessed of the determination, no matter what the cost, to return home rich, Law hits every note right and is more than capable of leading a cast this talented.
My only substantial complaint is the ending. On leaving the theater, it seemed one of the better solutions to the potential corner the filmmakers were painting themselves into, though the longer its sits, the more I think a film of this unrelenting intensity deserves an ending with some poignancy. Admittedly, I would have found something bleaker to be more satisfying. The easy route out taken in the last five minutes by director Kevin Macdonald and writer Dennis Kelly are a bit of a let-down when compared with the pulse pounding hour and forty-five minutes that precedes it, and for me it will only detract from Black Sea’s memorability.
With the mention of a submarine drama, it is almost inevitable that comparisons to Das Boot will be drawn. For the purposes of reviewing Black Sea however, I have been unable to do so as my only viewing of it was about a decade ago, when I very foolishly had the ambition to see not only the uncut 6-hour mini-series version that was put together for German television, but to do so in a single sitting. I was successful, but only in terms of completing the task. I know it was great and that it is above equal in the genre of submarine films, but at this point I’d be hard pressed to recall even a few minutes of it. It would seem, in this case, that Black Sea got a fair shake to be judged on its own merits (and that I now have a German epic to revisit, albeit in the slightly more truncated director’s cut form this time).
A few nitpicky complaints aside, and in direct contradiction with my take on the abysmally poor Blackhat from the other week, this is a fine example of a well-made, wall-to-wall suspense-filled thriller, and the film I wish I had started the year off with. Released in early December in the UK, where it has received generally positive reviews, it’s unfortunate that it has landed stateside in the January/February season of no-hopes.