ROBUST discussion

This is from the "Update" Goodreads sends out about the activities of people on one's list of friends:

"04/20 James Everington gave 1 star to: The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafón"

I thought The Shadow of the Wind at least a four star book, more likely the full five stars. It's novel and intriguing and well structured and written.

Now you've done it, James. Once you rub the librarians, you're lunch. Goodreads sent the exchange above to my Facebook page, where it was seen by a librarian. Can I have your bookbuyers?

"Two months ago I read Zafon's book, The Prince of Mist. I gave it a very favorable review on my blog-2/23/11. [http://librariansquest.blogspot.com/2...] Now my curiousity is peeked about this title. It is definitely going on my to- read list. My students have not left The Prince of Mist on the shelf once since we acquired it." -- From Margie Myers at http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?i...

You know, I can't remember it much, other than there was some wannabe Borges stuff about a library. It's one book I almost tempted to try again, as so many people whose tastes I otherwise respect like it. The title's awful though - pseudo poetic phrase that, unlike real poetry, conjures up no imagery, no substance.

Y'know, James, I didn't for a moment think about the title. But, now that I do, what else will you call a ghost story? There's the brush of the wind in the small of your back, but it isn't the wind, it is the shadow of the wind on your mind, working on the fear which lurks within.

(My invoice for the second sentence follows hotfoot to LA, Carlos Ruiz.)

Hmmm, maybe it sounds better in that context, but that's because you've done some work in the first part of the sentence to set up the phrase by mentioning wind with a more concrete verb ("brush") beforehand and give it some context. I'll freely admit literary language works in that way, rather than taking phrases out of context.

But for a title, it has no other context, and I still think it is a rubbish title. To be fair, could be the translation.

(This would make a good discussion board for Robust -- 'Sacred Cows - Books You Hate Than Everyone Else Loves')

Yah, it was for "brush" that I sent Carlos the invoice... You caught me out. Politically very incorrect of you to say so, considering English isn't my first language... LOL.

Open your Sacred Cows title in some suitable folder and I'll come to your tent, if let in mixed metaphors.

I like the title. The shadow is the movement you see as it bends grass, turns a leaf, ripples a flag.

To add insult to injury, Amazon have just emailed me to helpfully point out I might like Shadow Of The Wind based on my other purchases...

Arghhh.

Patricia Sierra wrote: "I like the title. The shadow is the movement you see as it bends grass, turns a leaf, ripples a flag."

You might like the book too, though don't blame me if you take a long time to read it; it is a thick tome. I certainly thought it superior to the Ruiz Zafon that I read,
The Angel's Game, in which the ghosts inspire the leading character to commit malicious acts. At the end of that one, I said to my wife that only the quality of Ruiz Zafon's writing carried me past some pretty dire crap.

A phrase I remember from The Shadow of the Wind, paraphrased, "the cats, finding no warmth to share, left him".

I definitely prefer dogs to the selfishness of cats...

James wrote: "To add insult to injury, Amazon have just emailed me to helpfully point out I might like Shadow Of The Wind based on my other purchases...

Arghhh."

Forgive me for laughing...

Cats are not selfish. They discriminate and have high standards, whereas dogs...well, never mind.

Cats are the

Typical eloquent comment James.

Was trying to write, cats are surely the pets of choice from a Robust group point of view? Dogs are too placid too have strong views on life.

WHY I KEEP A HEDGEHOG AS MY PET by Andre Jute

Before I met my wife, when I lived in Melbourne, I kept a leash of Borzoi. A leash is three dogs and a gentleman really needs to keep two leashes, but the dog pound had only three, and when I found another three to buy, my girlfriend, who spent hours every day brushing them, threatened to move out.

Those dogs really liked being paraded past Government House, and one year I got them individual, named invitations to the Governor's Garden Party. I just called them all Nikki, but they had names on a register somewhere, which my secretary discovered, and their invitations were in these names. They licked the campari right out the first Mrs Murdoch's glass while she was talking; they thought she was offering it to them.



When I moved to Adelaide, the dogs held a caucus and refused to accompany me to so provincial a place. "I rescued you from the pound, fahchrisesake!" But they were adamant.

So I gave them to my hairdresser, who minced a bit, whom I helped to buy a four-seat Lamborghini in which I never saw anyone with him because he didn't have the courage of his convictions. When he had a few big drinks in him, he'd brag, "As soon as Mamah goes to Heaven, you'll see, I'll be the biggest raving queer in Toorak."

Those dogs were his only friends, they loved that Lambo and, I must admit, they looked good in it, each with its own seat.

When he heard that there was a chance I was returning to Melbourne, the hairdresser went postal and threatened to commit suicide if I should want the Nikkinikkinikki back. All my ex-girlfriends fell over themselves in their hurry to tell me what an unfeeling brute I was to upset the only crimper who understood them, and none of them failed to mention that the dogs too threatened to commit suicide if they ever again had live without their own hairdresser.

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Copyright © Andre Jute 2011

Thanks for the laugh, James.

Andre, I'll admit the animal in your first photo is lovely, but she falls just short of the beauty standard set by cats.

You just have to look at my hedgehog to know he has strong views on everything, starting with paparazzi letting off flashlights in his eyes while he's eating his three-course meal of prawns, shredded roast chicken, beef bourguignon with Yorkshire pudding.

Your hedgehog eats better than I do.

That's his first meal after fasting all winter in hibernation.

I dunno what's the excuse of the fox who cleared the plate of everything the hedgehog left...

I have two Jack Russel terriorists, a mutt and 3 horses.