Books of my teenage years

Well, this is going to be a very messy page, not sure how to organise it. Maybe kind of chronologically though things may overlap. But kind of tempted to do several pages….because having done the poetry one, I fear this would dilute that page which is dear to my heart…because poetry is an art I love (now remembering I once tried to write verses but don’t think it was anywhere near acceptable).

Anyway, books of my youth (I’ll leave off childhood stuff like Noddy and the Famous Five, but yes I read a lot of Enid Blyton then (though obviously in French!)).

Some of the books might have been school studies, a fair few were stuff I used to pick in the town library (based on what? Not always sure), and a lot were just books that happened to be around at home I think! Reading was all there was to do as a child really, wasn’t there? And I loved it and I still love reading books. Maybe some escapism there. Also, I will confess that as far as ‘art’ goes, I wasn’t ever big on long descriptions. Either I preferred action, or just the study of relationships between characters. Anyway, as usual, I’ll waffle about on the comments. Note that there is no reason for the order in which they appear below. There are obviously plenty more books I read, but I’m trying to highlight the most significant ones. I’ll edit the page if I remember others….

Alexandre Dumas: Les Trois Mousquetaires. I think there was probably some vanity in my being able to say I’d read this very very long book as a however year old I was (13? less?). But this is famous, and I loved the intrigue and the historical aspects. Think I got this one because it was lying there in one of my sisters’ room.

Edmond Rostand: Cyrano de Bergerac. I’ll mention it here though it’s a play so more poetry, check the poetry page for my favourite bits. This one I probably got from my Dad’s poetry tastes.

Blaise Pascal: Les Pensées. Sure we studied bits of it at school, there are some famous pieces and themes. Big marker for me there. Le divertissement, le pari, whichever way you want to interpret it. Sure life is ‘divertissement’ in the main, are we escaping from ourselves? Probably, and it’s rather healthy….it’s just about levels. Anyway, I won’t philosophise, but a very important book.

François Mauriac: Les Mémoires Intérieurs. In a way I associate this one too, kind of a journal, lots of inner monologues and reflections on this and that. Can’t even tell you the actual content, but I think in essence and in style I could connect with this book a lot. Probably been partly led to read it because he was from Bordeaux.

Fédor Dostoïevski : Les Frères Karamazov. Now this one is definitely more well known. Also I probably read it way too early to really get it or anywhere near. But I still found it fascinating and an interesting read at the time.

Boris Vian: L’Ecume des Jours. I don’t even totally remember it but think I MUST have read it. Essentially it’s the kind of book I like the style of.

Raymond Queneau : Exercices de Style. Definitely one from my sister’s room too. It’s just very cleverly done. I like clever things when they’re not trying to be too clever for their own good. This does what it says on the tin, and well worth your time. I’m saying no more.

Dino Buzzati: Le Désert des Tartares. Another favourite, this one probably from school? (I had a few French teachers I really liked and who gave me a taste for some good books and writing). It kind of resonated with me, oddly, a certain desolation.

Italo Calvino: Si par une nuit d’hiver un voyageur (sorry I’m keeping the French title for all those books I read in French, as it’s how I remember them). Another one for school, and another stylistic prowess as far as I remember. Yet I don’t remember what this was about. Just that I liked it very much. Mind you, checking the (French) wiki page on it, I see the words ‘métatexte’ and ‘métanarration’. No wonder then, for anyone who’s reading either these pages or the few people who have read long letters or e-mails from me… :-p

Virginia Woolf: To The Lighthouse. One from the English course, advised by my possibly alcoholic English teacher. Again, can’t say I remember it so well, but probably one of the first books I read in English. Also: ‘stream of consciousness’. Obviously a concept that’s always been interesting to me as far as writing is concerned.

It’s funny, because writing all this now so many years later trying to remember the important books, I do realise that most of those books were important to me; but did they help turn me into who I am, or were they just already ‘matching’ me? I don’t know, does it matter? It’s one of the many questions that will not be solved, and may not be important to solve.

Franz Kafka. I nearly forgot Kafka! Le Château, le Procès. I read La Métamorphose later but connected less with it. Obviously Kafka’s universe appealed to me. The fact that everything is so frustrating and mostly unfinished. Yeah. But here I am now trying to go through with the various ideas. Anyway, I was glad when in 1991 I got the chance to go to Prague (as a ‘reward’ for Mention TB…), which happened to also be my first flight, and I could see his house. Sad I don’t have any photo from it, because plenty of memories, the amazing snow, the U-Fleku brewery, the old guy in the street trying to sell us alcohol under his coat, the weird Italian trying to get us to change money (a few of us created a sort of brief song about it, though it never was finalised), I have always wanted to go back, have never been back since, at the same time I fear it will not live up to my wonderful memories).

Isaac Asimov. Well, I don’t know where to start. Encountered him in teenage years, so probably started reading him in French, just Caves of Steels and stuff like that, robot novels. I can’t remember who introduced me to Foundation, I think someone in Classes prépa? or at engineering school? But why in English? I think it was in English, or did I start reading this in English in later years. So yes I’m moving away from teenage years in a way, though that’s where it started. I was actually reading a few sci-fi novels from the library. Not sure why or if sci-fi totally attracted me (though one of the rare films I was brought to see in the cinema then was The Black Hole), as I don’t consider myself a sci-fi fan, or a fan of pure fantasy in novels, but somehow, and much later, Asimov’s works resonated with me as they raise a lot of interesting questions about mankind, determinism, choice, and a few other philosophical issues. Also plenty of stuff about decadent or failing societies, bits you can see here and there in our very real present. Interesting how there are several ‘universes’ but he tended in the end to try and merge the Robots and Foundation universes. Anyway, so I’ll just mention a few books/series, beyond the Robot Novels which I enjoyed at the start.

Foundation. The first three books were the initial series. You’ve got to love Salvor Hardin’s aphorisms (hell now I remember ‘La violence est le dernier refuge de l’incompétence’, so I know I actually read it in French first….), the characters, and the way the last sentence of the third book brought me a huge smile, a satisfactory conclusion. But many years later, two very long books were added and made the saga go into a completely different direction. The first series was all, in the end, about pure scientists controlling humanity for a greater good. But while the last two brought the robots into the series (in a very clever way, with old friend R. Daneel Olivaw playing a prominent role), it really brought the conclusion of the first books into question: is control in any way good, or would humanity be better served by losing leading castes to the benefit of one superorganism that can feel pleasure (or pain) as part of a whole. This means losing any sort of individualism (or just individuality)…or nearly. The concepts can get a bit blurry and in the end, the decision has to be made by one individual with the uncanny ability to make the ‘right’ decision based on incomplete evidence. All this while making a fantastic voyage from the outer reaches of the galaxy to a now uninhabitable Earth. Anyway, yes I enjoyed that for many reasons. (Oh yes, and there were two prequels too, which I eventually read, but they feel not completely part of that, although they do bring interesting lights about the decline of civilisations).

The Gods Themselves. A completely different novel in a completely different universe. Really a one-off but with some interesting kind of ‘superhuman’ concepts of triads. Seeing as human nature very often has a big duality to it…..what if creation always ever came from three (I totally extrapolate etc….but I can).

The End of Eternity. There’s time travel in that, though not completely the usual way (I think). I find the concept of the ‘Observer’ interesting, fixing things and stuff, and experimenting too far while chasing an impossible love. Well, I think it’s that. (I also wonder if the main protagonist there is a typical INFP in fact).

Yeah, the Asimov section above is a bit of a departure from the decision to have a ‘teenage books’ page in the end, but it’s the natural flow, I’m not making a very strictly structured site. I could. I decide not to. I should also mention Agatha Christie because I read a lot of that, but since I will make a (much shorter) section on Crime fiction, I’ll (re- see she’s mentioned already here now) mention her there. I certainly enjoyed her books a lot (again in French, though I started re-reading her in English nearly 30 years later).

I need to add:

Martin Gardner : ‘haha’ ou L’éclair de la compréhension mathématique. Completely different from anything above, just a book showing a lot of clever mathematical tricks. But not quite pure mathematics, just ways to solve some maths ‘puzzle’ mostly with unconventional methods/thinking. And as such, touching on one of my favourite ways to be : ‘thinking outside the box’. The book itself came from my Mum and it’s one I cherished.

Guy de Maupassant : Le Horla. I had also forgotten that one. One from school but I found it fascinating, a descent into madness. I can (sort of) associate with the slightly out-of-body experience at night, though not quite, but it reminded me in that aspect of a few nights when I kind of feel a presence suffocating me and wake up with a start before my being becomes crushed.

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