Whatcha readin'? July 2019
Hi nerds! I hope you've had a nice summer, and that you've had some time to READ!
Here's a peek at the books I've read in July:
I'm not going to go into detail for the grown-up books. But first, let's start with an incredible graphic novel.
Ailefroide, altitude 3954
[Graphic Novel, Lang.: French]
Jean-Marc Rochette. Casterman, 2018.
Jean-Marc Rochette is one of the guys behind Snowpiercer (Le Transperceneige in French).
I was having lunch with a friend in Grenoble when we saw a poster for an exhibition of Rochette's mountain watercolors. Off we went! It was incredible, I was completely taken by his expressive renditions of mountain skies.
So I went home and read Ailefroide right away. I tried not to show my friends that I was tearing up, but anyway, this graphic novel is brilliant. It's autobiographical, and recounts Rochette's obsession with mountaineering as a teen, and particularly with one summit called Ailefroide, which sort of became his white whale as he tried to figure out who he was growing up, with or without mountaineering (no spoilers, but the ending is quite bittersweet, prepare the tissues).
In a way, it's a bildung-graphic-roman, and, I would say, will interest readers aged 14 and above. Oh, and it's visually stunning!
Molière vue par une ado et par son chien
[Bio, Lang.: French]
Cécile Alix. Poulpes Fiction, 2018. 306 p.
This is part a new collection of transmedia graphic-biographies (I believe the publishing company is quite new as well).
The idea is that the narrator is a teenager obsessed with Molière, and tells us about his life in a fun way, using "teen" speak. The pet is here to ask questions and provide comic relief.
The editor made a real effort at making this accessible for young teens: the design is a bit similar to the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series, and some parts are linked to Youtube videos that delve further into a particular aspect of 17th-century theater in France.
I have mixed feelings about this. One the one had, I learned a lot - this is packed with information delivered in an upbeat manner, but on the other hand, it's trying way too hard to be "cool" and sound "young" and the tone annoyed me. The slang does not feel real, and the background story about preparing for a school play is unnecessary and confusing, as it adds a dozen characters who only have one or two lines.
A colleague of mine made her 6th-graders read it, and they were shocked by the language register used. Poor kids were not used to reading slang, apparently.
I still bought it for the library because it's a good summary of Molière's life and of the evolution of theater in France in the 17th century. It's probably an interesting tool for a teacher, but I don't think kids will pick it up if it's not mandatory reading.
Rester debout, Simon Veil ou la naissance d'une légende
[Bio, Lang.: French]
Fabrice Colin. Albin Michel, 2018. 320p.
Full disclosure, I didn't have time to finish this one, but I read more than half, and I liked it. For once, we have a biography that is well-written. The style is a pleasure to read.
It is part of a trend of writing about famous people/characters as teenagers, just like the Churchill bio coming out this August.
One of my students read it and she loved it. I think Simone Veil remains a role model for women, regardless of her political affiliations. People of my parents' generation disagree, probably because they knew her when she was part of a right-wing administration (I've actually had a heated discussion with my dad about this), but to younger women she will always be a paragon of bravery for pushing for the legalization of abortion and women's right to choose.
This book is not about that, though. It solely focuses on her childhood, the life of her (Jewish) family during the war, as well as the fact that she was an Auschwitz survivor.
Tout ce que vous avez toujours voulu savoir sur LE BLOB sans jamais oser le demander
[Non fiction, Lang.: French]
Audrey Dussutour. J’ai Lu, 2019. 186 p.
[I got this book in a Babelio giveaway in exchange for a review. So this will be in French, nerdies!]
Un livre fascinant, lu d’une traite à la plage !
J’ai reçu ce livre documentaire dans le cadre d’une opération Masse Critique. Je l’avais sélectionné car l’une de mes élèves avait écrit un article sur le sujet, qui s’était révélé très populaire auprès de ses pairs.
En effet, le Blob fascine, il est mystérieux et d’apparence un peu « cracra », je pense qu’il rappelle aux enfants le « Slime » qu’ils adorent tripoter.
Je me suis attelée à cette lecture par devoir, mais j’ai tellement aimé que j’ai fini par en parler à tous les malheureux qui m’ont côtoyée cette semaine-là !
Non seulement le sujet du Blob et, plus largement, du comportement animalier et de ses applications possibles dans le domaine humain, est fascinant, mais il l’est d’autant plus ici grâce aux talents de vulgarisation de l’auteure.
Audrey Dussutour sait « faire simple », tout en rendant compte de ses recherches avec assez de détails pour que le lecteur se fasse une idée précise de sa méthodologie, son travail méticuleux et son quotidien de chercheuse. Car c’est là le 2ème atout de ce livre : présenter le travail du chercheur en éthologie dans le milieu de la recherche fondamentale en France. En alternance avec des chapitres sur le Blob, l’auteure déroule sa carrière et par là-même nous donne à voir les coulisses de l’Université et du CNRS.
Je conseille ce livre à tout lycéen (voir collégien pour les passionnés de SVT) qui souhaite se faire une idée à propos de la méthode scientifique et du monde de la Recherche en France.
The Twelve Lives of Samuel Hawley
Hannay Tinti. Dial Press, 2017. 376p.
This is on the shortlist for the 2020 Folio Award.
This reads like a first novel: clumsy, confused, and waayyyy too long. If it wasn't part of a project at work, I would never have finished it.
Samuel Hawley is a flat character, unlike his daughter, who really should have been the protagonist of this novel. She has an arc: daughter of notorious criminal, constantly on the run from her father's enemies, finally settles down in a small town and tries to navigate middle school, her first crush, and to figure out the truth about her mother's death, all the while being a bad-ass chick who keeps saving everyone.
Samuel, on the other hand, is bland as hell. Since he was shot 12 times, the author thought it would be really clever to have each bullet correspond to a chapter of the book. Gimmicky, right? And excrutiating. Every time I started a new chapter, I was counting down the number of bullets left.
So, my advice would be : 1) avoid reading if you can, 2) ditch Samuel and only read the odd chapters, which are about the girl.
I'm not looking forward to next week, when I have to present this book enthusiastically to a group of bored-looking teenagers!
As for grown-up literature:
Born a Crime: Stories from a South African Childhood
Trevor Noah. Spiegel & Grau, 2019. 304 p.
This was incredible. I laughed, I cringed, I gasped, and I learned (a lot).
This book is very informative about the reality of Apartheid, because even though I remember studying it in English class back in High School, this gave a much better insight into the day-to-day, particularly that of people who were neither labelled as "black" nor "white" (i.e. "coloured" or "indian"). I feel like this is also relatable because Trevor Noah is young, and wrote this for an international audience: he frequently makes comparisons with US culture, which I think most of us are familiar with. And because he has a lot of experience with stand-up comedy, he knows how to pace a story and keep the reader interested.
Good news, as of this year, a YA version of this novel is available. Can't wait to hear what my students think of it!
Enigma Variations
André Aciman. Faber & Faber, 2019.
As a fan of Call Me by Your Name, I was really excited about this.
I liked how all the stories eventually intertwine, but as with Allan Hollinghurst (who is one of my absolute favorite writers), I feel like Aciman uses the same ingredients as in Call Me by Your Name, with a slightly different recipe. Always lovely to revisit, but it doesn't have the charm of your first!
Swing Time
Zadie Smith. Penguin, 2017.
There would be a lot to unpack here, but I won't go into detail.
I will just say that particulary liked the narrator's observations about race, genre, and class.
Alright, 'twas a good month! Keep on readin’!