A Game of Books and Thrones
Early January is my time for winding down after the festivities, of recuperating walks along the beach, of reading for pleasure rather than work, and viewing any likely movies that catch my eye, all aimed at allowing my blood pressure to ease and my stamina rebuild for the coming year. Others might call it semi-hibernation.
Into the Books
I kicked off with 59 Memory Lane by Celia Anderson, published by HarperCollins in 2019 and picked up in a charity (thrift) shop because… the cover caught my eye. Well, yes, that’s the primary job of a book cover. All indie authors study them. On the other hand, readers reach, then consume the backblurb:
May Rosevere has reached the grand old age of one-hundred-and-ten, thanks to several slices of toast with butter every morning, a glass (or two) of port, and the wonders of the Cornish sea air —
— except, of course, she lies. May Rosevere also steals. For a reason.
This is a Fantasy. Or Magic Realism. Or Humour. Definitely “feel-good” if, for me, somewhat too saccharine a denouement where I was starting to fear even the cat would have a Happy Ever After ending.
I’m no fan of present-tense narrative conveyance, except in short fiction where I think it can work well. But the author has a light touch and I was much reminded of Under Milk Wood by Welsh poet and dramatist, Dylan Thomas (d. 1953), in the way the ethereal narrator drifts in and out of the characters’ lives. The present-tense narrative was also the reason I decided to read the book, rather than just study the cover: I wanted to see how it was handled. So, in truth, I was still reading for work.
Did I enjoy the novel? I dump books I don’t enjoy, so the answer is it kept my attention. Would I read another by the author? Probably not. You know the problem: too many books, too little time. It’s a question of priorities and a massive To Be Read pile.
Into the DVDs — Game of Thrones
It was all change to screen as I opened the boxed DVD trilogy of Game of Thrones Seasons 1–3, courtesy of HBO. And no, this wasn’t a…