Although I am always reading a book, and generally one off my To Be Read list, I have missed posting in the past few months, I'm not quite certain why.
In this case, I am back from Holland, the girls are watching Sponge-Bob, I see that I should be posting today, and luckily I have just finished a book that I have been waiting and wanting to read for a while:
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly by Jean-Dominique Bauby
I am certain that everyone has either heard of the story, or seen ads for the movie. I bought the book a while ago but loaned it to my mother and when she shipped it over to me here in Germany it did not make the top of my list, for some reason.
It's a very moving novel. Not just for the intrinsic story, which is heart-breaking, but the absolute and stark baeuty and clarity of the narration is astonishing. That this was composed and polished and created all in Bauby's head, dictated letter by letter, tells one what an absolutely marvelous talent he was. It's a very simple story but the lucidity of the narration. the simple beauty, and the pathos, is what makes the reading worthwhile. I'm not certain that I will ever have the heart to see the movie, though: I find it easier to handle tragedy when I can lay it down and go away between chapters, to allow the sorrow to disperse.