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I seem to have got back into the habit of having several books on the go again. I'm currently reading:
THE TOWN AND THE CITY by Jack Kerouac, which was his first major success, a big sprawling epic about a New England family spreading out from rural roots and getting lost in the big city. I started this one in January and have barely read a chapter in weeks. Your more avant garde literary critic says it's better than On the Road, but that's why avant garde literary critics tend to be the biggest twits of them all.
WHEN WE WERE ORPHANS by Kazuo Ishiguro, which is an historical mystery set in 1930s China. It reads a bit like Empire of the Sun going in the other direction, if JG's parents had suddenly disappeared and he'd gone back to look for them as the Japanese close in. Presently very impressed.
THE PARADISE TRAIL by Duncan Campbell, which is a murder mystery set in Calcutta at the time of the India-Pakistan war that led to the establishment of Bangladesh. I'm reviewing this for a newspaper, but I'll try and not be too avant garde about it.
MOAB IS MY WASHPOT by Stephen Fry, which is his autobiography of his childhood, school years and early adulthood, up until the point he first went mad. It jumps all over the place, full of trivia about things you never knew you wanted to know, and then goes of on long rambling rants about things barely connected. But then, what else would you expect/want from an autobiography of Stephen Fry?
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