Borrowed Libraries . . .

If I’d known what was awaiting me in our rental home in Bordeaux, I wouldn’t have bothered loading up my Kobo with holiday reading.

Here’s a sample of the shelves, a plethora of delicious possibilities that tempted me to abandon plans for exploring the city and countryside.

I kept pulling books from the shelf, putting them aside to read before I left. Sadly, with only two weeks, busy with excursions every day, I didn’t put the teeniest dent in my wishlist.

But I did finish Haruki Murakami’s Kafka on the Shore. That’s what I’m reading in our tiny, perfect garden above. An odd and compelling novel, folding metaphysics into reality, past into present, in a brilliant and unique exploration of memory and of responsibility, both individual and communal. It’s been many years since I read The Wind-Up Bird Chronicles. This was a gentler read, as I remember the latter, but both involve a young man’s search. We have odd road trips to follow, talking cats, bizarre collective fainting spells, hidden villages in which contemporary culture does not intrude, wonderful relationships, and credible, if magical, character development.

If you have a bench in a garden, this might be the book for you. . . .As for me, I want to get back to these bookshelves next spring . . . somewhere in Bordeaux. . .