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The Reader on the 6.27
The Reader on the 6.27
Ros Schwartz, Jean-Paul Didierlaurent | 2017 | Fiction & Poetry
8
8.0 (1 Ratings)
Book Rating
Feel-good (4 more)
Simple easy-to read style
A celebration of the power of reading
Lovable characters
Brilliant translation from French
A bit too short / aprupt ending (0 more)
I'm so glad to have come across this little hidden gem.
The unfortunately named (apparently -- I think you have to be a French speaker to really understand the reasoning) Guylain Vignolles is 36, lives alone with his beloved goldfish and works in a job he detests -- operating a book-pulping machine in a publishing factory. Guylain alleviates his resultant mental anguish by rescuing the occasional surviving pages at the end of each shift and reading them aloud to his fellow commuters on the 6.27 train each morning much to their mingled bewilderment and joy. Featuring some wonderful larger-than-life characters such as the classical theatre loving security guard who only speaks in Verse and the reformed alcoholic engaged in a quest to be reunited with his missing limbs and the toilet attendant with a secret talent for writing, this book is quirky and a bit ridiculous in the very best way.
As a fellow book lover, I empathised with Guylain's heartbreak over destroying so many books day in and day out. I can't even bear to write in a book or fold the corner of a page never mind reduce them to a pulp! I absolutely loved the way he attempted to do the books justice by giving what pages he could save an audience. This book is a real testament to the power and pleasure of reading aloud which is something I'm hugely passionate about -- I even wrote one of my university dissertations about the benefits of reading aloud with children.
I also loved its message of how reading can unite people, despite it being seen as a generally quite solitary or even introverted activity. Through his reading, Guylain finds himself being invited to do regular readings at a care home, much to the delight of the residents and when he finds a USB stick on his usual train seat containing over 70 diary entries, the lonely Guylain might just find that it leads to true love.
As well as being very charming and quaint, the novel manages to avoid becoming trite with its very astute observations and brilliant humour -- often laugh-out-loud funny. The prose is simple but very skillful -- especially the verses concocted by Yvon the security guard. Huge credit must also be given to the translator here. (The book was originally written in French) To translate rhyme into a different language so that it still rhymes and still makes perfect sense in the context can't be an easy feat!
My only criticism is that the book is very short -- fewer than 200 pages. Apparently the author is usually a writer of short stories and this is his first novel. This definitely shows as the ending feels very abrupt and definitely as if it could have done with another 50 pages or so; perhaps even more. I wasn't ready to say goodbye yet! Having said that, the ending was very sweet and it was only its abruptness that prevented it from being 100% satisfactory. I wouldn't quite say that there are any loose ends but it would have been nice to find out a little more about some of the characters and their stories.
Overall though this was a really lovely feel-good read that will appeal to anyone who loves literature and zany but endearing characters. I read one review that said the plot was "outlandish" and the characters "unbelievable" but I believe this reviewer was missing the point. This book champions the escapist qualities of reading and to have a story and characters who perhaps just slightly transcend reality can only elevate the escapism just that bit more. Feasibility be damned, I loved Guylain and his supporting cast members and I think I could easily read this short but sweet little story again and again!
  
Here Come the Warm Jets by Brian Eno
Here Come the Warm Jets by Brian Eno
1974 | Rock
9.0 (4 Ratings)
Album Favorite

"I heard this for the first time at some point in the mid-90s and it had a big impact. For something so old, it sounded more like the future than anything being released then. It was hard to find on LP, but my friend John McKeown had a copy that I would borrow or listen to round at his. Eventually I bought a CD player so I could get it on reissue, as it took me years to find the vinyl. I reckon Eno was frustrated in Roxy Music. There didn't seem to be enough room for his experimentation or ego. You feel that he's running wild with pent up ideas in the way George Harrison did on All Things Must Pass. Although the sound is unconventional and experimental, it doesn't feel over-considered or precious in the way that many contemporary prog LPs do. It's spontaneous and quite thuggish at points. 'Blank Frank' sounds like he's wearing out the strings with a scrubbing brush. It's beautifully constructed as an LP. The songs are distinct and can stand alone, but there are wee passages of sound that link them together and the songs often overlap into each other, moving effortlessly between moods and musical conventions, melody and abstract noise. One moment 'Cindy Tells Me' sounds almost like it could be on the soundtrack of Grease (despite the lyric of rich girls confused by their new freedoms leaving their Hotpoints to rust in their kitchenettes), then you're in the dark, foreboding gloom of 'Driving Me Backwards' - ""kids like me have got to be craaaaaazzzzzyyyyy"" - what he does to his voice at that point will always sends a great shudder through me. I love his vocal delivery. It's very English and of that time - I hear it in Kevin Ayers, Robyn Hitchcock, Bid of The Monochrome Set and Syd Barrett, but none of the English singers around now seem to sing like that. What happened? Did that accent die out? There's a lovely send-up of the other Brian in 'Dead Finks Don't Talk' where he slips into a lecherous deep croon. It's heavily layered throughout, but it sounds like he didn't listen to himself as he double-tracked it. The phrasing and exaggerated vibratos don't often match which adds to the unnerving sense of panic which can suddenly drop to an intimate murmur. Eno has such a huge and recognisable persona, but not as a lyricist. There are some incredible lines on here: ""send for an ambulance or an accident investigator…""; ""Juanita and Juan/ Very clever with maracas…""; ""By this time time I got to looking for a kind of substitute/ I can't tell you quite how, except that it rhymes with dissolute…""; ""Meet my relations/ All of them/ Grinning like facepacks…"" the imagery is vivid, unsettling and direct. That's from a guy who pretty much abandoned writing lyrics shortly afterwards. Like Hunky Dory, this LP bridges two distinct parts of a career. There's still a Roxy flavour (Phil Manzanera is all over it), but songs like 'On Some Faraway Beach' point towards his ambient sound of the later 70s. It's a fleeting moment, never to be repeated. Well, except for on Taking Tiger Mountain. Maybe that's what makes this moment so great. He could have made another fourteen records with this template, all of which I'm sure would have had virtue. But he didn't. When we recorded our first LP, I played it to Tore Johansson [producer] and said I wanted it to sound like this. It didn't turn out that way, but it definitely had an impact on the session. We asked Eno to produce our second LP. He sent us a nice letter saying he couldn't do it, but that his daughter was a big fan of the band... Looking back I realise that it was the Eno who made this LP I was asking to produce. He's a smart guy and probably spotted that straight away."

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