Copyright © Louise Bostock 2007-2013. Please give credit where credit is due.
Today in Carmine Superiore, we are promised by thems-as-know a high of 17°, and certainly the day has started out so Mediterranean that all the windows are open and there's linen and laundry tumbling from every window-sill.
Another Philip Pullman novel. In fact his latest, and definitely for adults, with its provokingly bold red jacket with gold and black lettering (in the UK, anyway).
Oh, it's the Independent that called it "provokingly bold". The Sunday Times called it "a hand grenade made by Fabergé", and Rowan Williams, Archbishop of Canterbury (no less) told The Guardian (who else) that it was a "deliberately outrageous fable". And I think that's a compliment.
Pullman has had a great idea. Give Jesus a twin brother. Call him Christ. And then retell the New Testament as it could possibly have been. Simple? Not that simple. Who is the good man, here? And is Christ really the scoundrel? What is the difference between history and truth, and what is the writer's role in the making of fables that last, that more than last, that inspire millions to belief in the seemingly impossible? In fact, the only thing that could be called simple about this novel is the language and the episodical structure, which so perfectly imitate that of the New English Bible. (I wonder whether the Archbishop of Canterbury considers the Bible a 'deliberately outrageous fable' - you never know these days.)
Pullman's structure, the simple language and this great idea together enable him to explore a host of dualities starting from good (perhaps Jesus) and bad (perhaps Christ), touching on mind-body, death-life, rich-poor, sin and purity, and describing, from the historical standpoint of Year Zero AD a potential Church that could be perfect - the Kingdom of God on Earth - and could just as easily be diabolically corrupt.
It's a small-ish book, but perfectly formed. It is provoking and disturbing and in many ways extraordinary. And I have a feeling it might turn out to be important...
So read it.
The last of i giorni della merla - the blackbird days - thought to be the coldest of the winter. And while I can say quite categorically that they are not empirically the coldest, there's something about the stillness, the silence of these days, with the steady sunshine and the slow creak of bare branch on bare branch that makes you think you have come to the very heart of the season.
Winner of the Gold Smarties Prize Award, Philip Pullman's story about a young girl following her dream is charming. I bought it because I remembered the pleasure with which I read the His Dark Materials trilogy, but found that this is not a child-adult crossover. It's actually more suitable for shared reading from 8 years and lone reading from 10, I would say.
The Guardian noted this as "A wonderfully written adventure story," and the Daily Mail called it "An outstanding achievement". I enjoyed it, certainly. And I understand the final message as inspirational, for adults as well as for older children. But perhaps I read it in the wrong frame of mind. Perhaps I had something else weighing on me, and missed the comedy, the "genius", the "confident magic". I also found a couple of the illustrations - by Peter Bailey - rather scary (at least for the under-6s).
Still, The Firework Maker's Daughter is gentle, beautifully written and a lovely story. This little book will be returned, not to the adult shelves but to the waiting-for-the-children-to-grow-up shelves, and I will heartily recommend it to my two little readers when the time comes.
Today in Carmine Superiore, we are promised by thems-as-know a high of 17°, and certainly the day has started out so Mediterranean that all the windows are open and there's linen and laundry tumbling from every window-sill.
Another Philip Pullman novel. In fact his latest, and definitely for adults, with its provokingly bold red jacket with gold and black lettering (in the UK, anyway).
Oh, it's the Independent that called it "provokingly bold". The Sunday Times called it "a hand grenade made by Fabergé", and Rowan Williams, Archbishop of Canterbury (no less) told The Guardian (who else) that it was a "deliberately outrageous fable". And I think that's a compliment.
Pullman has had a great idea. Give Jesus a twin brother. Call him Christ. And then retell the New Testament as it could possibly have been. Simple? Not that simple. Who is the good man, here? And is Christ really the scoundrel? What is the difference between history and truth, and what is the writer's role in the making of fables that last, that more than last, that inspire millions to belief in the seemingly impossible? In fact, the only thing that could be called simple about this novel is the language and the episodical structure, which so perfectly imitate that of the New English Bible. (I wonder whether the Archbishop of Canterbury considers the Bible a 'deliberately outrageous fable' - you never know these days.)
Pullman's structure, the simple language and this great idea together enable him to explore a host of dualities starting from good (perhaps Jesus) and bad (perhaps Christ), touching on mind-body, death-life, rich-poor, sin and purity, and describing, from the historical standpoint of Year Zero AD a potential Church that could be perfect - the Kingdom of God on Earth - and could just as easily be diabolically corrupt.
It's a small-ish book, but perfectly formed. It is provoking and disturbing and in many ways extraordinary. And I have a feeling it might turn out to be important...
So read it.
The last of i giorni della merla - the blackbird days - thought to be the coldest of the winter. And while I can say quite categorically that they are not empirically the coldest, there's something about the stillness, the silence of these days, with the steady sunshine and the slow creak of bare branch on bare branch that makes you think you have come to the very heart of the season.
Winner of the Gold Smarties Prize Award, Philip Pullman's story about a young girl following her dream is charming. I bought it because I remembered the pleasure with which I read the His Dark Materials trilogy, but found that this is not a child-adult crossover. It's actually more suitable for shared reading from 8 years and lone reading from 10, I would say.
The Guardian noted this as "A wonderfully written adventure story," and the Daily Mail called it "An outstanding achievement". I enjoyed it, certainly. And I understand the final message as inspirational, for adults as well as for older children. But perhaps I read it in the wrong frame of mind. Perhaps I had something else weighing on me, and missed the comedy, the "genius", the "confident magic". I also found a couple of the illustrations - by Peter Bailey - rather scary (at least for the under-6s).
Still, The Firework Maker's Daughter is gentle, beautifully written and a lovely story. This little book will be returned, not to the adult shelves but to the waiting-for-the-children-to-grow-up shelves, and I will heartily recommend it to my two little readers when the time comes.
Another Philip Pullman novel. In fact his latest, and definitely for adults, with its provokingly bold red jacket with gold and black lettering (in the UK, anyway). 
