A Moveable Feast

I have a confession to make. A Moveable Feast is my first ever foray into the realms of Ernest Hemingway. I know, I know, he is a literary legend and I am a poor excuse for a student of literature for not being familiar with his work. The only excuse I can make is that I'm British, and the only books we are exposed to are almost exclusively from English writers, which I do not dispute is a travesty. 

"all Paris belongs to me and I belong to this notebook and this pencil"

Having no prior conceptions about Hemingway (other than his fleeting incarnation in Midnight in Paris) I really wasn't sure what to expect. The first thing that struck me was the writing style: stripped back, bare, raw and honest. Unimaginable skill must have gone into every sentence. It is just so easy to get lost in little literary flourishes and lose the impact of authorial intention along the way. Once I got grips with Hemingway's style I was lost in the ancient cobbled streets of Paris, with senses alive to the hubbub of a busy Cafe. I hung on every one of Hemingway's words, and I couldn't believe how descriptive the prose was despite the dearth of adjectives. If you aren't sold on the astonishing quality of the prose alone, then the presence of Scott Fitzgerald, James Joyce and Gertrude Stein should convince any lover of modern literature to take up this worthy little volume. Upon reading, do prepare to die to see 1920s Paris through the eyes of Hemingway. 

Like a Glutton at a Feast

I've been reading like a glutton at a feast this week. My 'to read' pile has been steadily building over the last few months and now that I am free I've been devouring all in sight. So, stand-by for some reviews and views on my latest literary escapades. 

Jasmine x

Oh the student life.

The sun is shining on merry old England and all I want is to be lay amongst the daisies, reading Nancy Mitford novels and drinking shandy. Instead I am faced a frantic week with a total of five essays to complete. It tires me out to even think of it. It seems as a student that you have nothing to do when the weather is awful and nothing is going on. As soon as there is a whiff of fun or adventures to be had, you cannot see above a three foot tall stack of library books and deadlines enough to make one weep.

Books, Glorious Books!

My eternal desire for book buying has, once again, been satisified for the moment. I think it was the ‘3 books for £1’ which broke me… Anyway, here’s my somewhat eclectic haul this week:

• Dylan Thomas Collected Poems 1934-1952.
• Flowers on the Grass by Monica Dickens.
• The Pursuit of Love by Nancy Mitford. (the only one that strictly speaking I needed to buy…)
• The Painted Veil by W. Somerset Maugham.
• The Princess and the Politicians: Sex, Intrigue and Diplomacy in Regency England, by John Charmley. (a cheeky bit of history for good measure, and who can resist such a title?!)

New Books!

 I live for second-hand book shopping. Whenever I feel the slightest bit down I head straight for the charity shops. Oxfam are particularly good for old and interesting books, including this lovely hardback copy of Brideshead Revisited (which is also beautifully illustrated). To be honest, getting first pick of the donated books is one of the perks of volunteering there;) I’ve also picked up Lark Rise to Candleford, a Penguin book on Victorian Literature and a volume of Jane Austen’s letters! Thoroughly satisfying:)

Studio Ghibli and Grave of the Fireflies.

Just lately I have been enjoying Film 4's Studio Ghibli season immensely. They come around fairly regularly and I always try to tune in, but this one has been excellent and I've managed to catch some more obscure films. However, there is one which has haunted me since I watched it last Friday night: Grave of the Fireflies. 
For those who haven't watched I shan't reveal any spoilers, but I do implore you to seek it out! It is a devastating story set at the end of the Second World War in Japan. Ghibli fans will not be disappointed as the animation is beautiful as always, but lent added poignancy because of the subject matter. Being somewhat of a history fan, the context of the film was alone enough to entice me to watch. Aside from Hiroshima and Nagasaki, I know very little about Japan during and immediately after the Second World War. The harsh realities of civilian life are unflinchingly represented, and for the last twenty or so minutes I was sobbing. It has been a very long time since a film has made me weep to such a degree, but watching it has inspired me to rectify my ignorance of the history surrounding modern Japan. 

Review: Up in the Air by Walter Kirn

I must admit, this was one of the rare occasions when I watched the film before reading the book. I needn't have worried because the adaptation is almost unrecognisable from the original. Still, it is an excellent film in its own right though (Clooney and Kendrick: the dream team). I found the novel to be incredibly readable on the whole. Admittedly, some of the business jargon and Airworld terminology went over my head and slowed the narrative down a bit. And Ryan Bingham isn't the most likeable or relatable character I've ever come across. However, Ryan's life choice to try and live commitment free in Airworld made for a refreshing read. And, if you want to go that deep, it threw up some interesting perspectives on the modern interpretation of the 'American Dream'