One might think that writers of bookish books would go on and on, produce vast treatises on their love of books and literature, but many bookish books are slim volumes.
Consider Carlos Maria Dominguez’s The House of Paper (2004), Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 (1953), and Bohumil Hrabal’s Too Loud a Solitude (1976; Trans. Michael Henry Heim): slim bookish volumes.
Though there are long bookish books, like Carlos Ruis Zafon’s Shadow of the Wind, and Thomas Wharton’s Salamander.
The Emperor of Paris falls somewhere in between, but you could read it in a long afternoon.
C.S. Richardson’s novel is not only a bookish book, but also a love story best served with baguettes and brioche.
Nonetheless, the intensity of one passion builds upon the dimensions of another.
The author’s lyrical prose is printed with generous margins, as though a tangible space for readers to dwell as they let the words soak in, so even if the wordcount is slight, the reading experience is expansive.
The use of language is designed to provoke an emotional response in the reader.
Sometimes this has nothing to do with books, as with the following passage, which creates an atmosphere so vivid that if you’re wearing a skirt while reading it, you’ll be tucking it around your body to hold in the heat.
“A December wind armed with ice and knives gathered its skirts in a northern sea. It stepped ashore near Calais, dithered before finding the Paris road, moaned its way south through thick and ancient forests, entered the town of Beauvais along the high street, paused in front of the cathedral, circled the market square, then lifted its frozen hems and slipped uninvited under the door of the town’s only clothing shop.”
And, yet, there are some beautiful bookish passages too.
Take this one: “Sliding his spectacles to the top of his head, the bookseller would plant his feet on the book’s open pages, lift his arms out from his sides and turn his face to the sky.”
And this: “A chance meeting in a little bookshop had brought me out of myself. It made me fall in love and took me across the world with no more effort than walking across a room.”
The vocabulary is simple, but the intersection of themes builds the strength of each. “Books are an amusement for when you are young and in love.”
Even the love story, however, is rooted in storytelling. “Let the story do the talking.”
Letting C.S. Richardson do the talking is not necessarily an invitation to all readers, however.
There is a definite sense of rising tension throughout the novel; as the years pass in some scenes, the minutes slow in others, and the reader does want to follow the more immediate action to its close.
And, yet, the temporal flux will not be to every reader’s taste. There could be as much debate about the pacing in this novel as there is to the question of flakiness in the “perfect” croissant.
For those who are willing to allow the scenes in this novel to coalesce, there is a reward; The Emperor of Paris is rich.
Poetic prose works sometimes find their way onto the shortlists (like Anne Michaels’ Fugitive Pieces, Shani Mootoo’s Cereus Blooms at Night, Michael Crummey’s River Thieves) but with the exception of Michael Ondaatje’s Anil’s Ghost, they don’t claim the prize. Nonetheless, the historical expanse of the work and the lush design are in its favour.
A complex structure, which folds in — and rolls out — time and perspectives like a baker works with dough. It’s not linear, and the segments are not identified by either chapter names or placers; readers must determine which characters are at hand and assemble the timeline as they read.
Attention lavished on word choice and sentence structure. All senses involved. “Monsieur told them not as the book might have, but as he saw them, jumping to life before his own eyes.” Emphasis is on the telling, the telling as things can be seen, their existence jumping to life before the reader’s eyes. Simple vocabulary but complex scene development.
Paris, the eighth district. “Two wheels, four wheels, pushed and pulled and pedaled, grinding brakes, wheezing fumes, yelled obscenities filled their ears. And beyond the square the gardens of the Tuileries beckoned, offering a chair or two in the shade, a chance to catch one’s breath after a morning of walking and a minute of braving the mad Concorde whirlwind.”
Primarily though the atmosphere, which is anchored in lyrical prose; the environment in the vivid scenes and the prose will envelop the patient and attentive reader, but will overwhelm those who prefer plot and linear story-telling.
You appreciate a book cover that invites the soft undersides of your fingertips to cozy up. You’ve made (or dream of making) literary pilgrimages to bookish places in Europe. You love the novels of Helen Humphreys and those of other poets too. Your clothes fit a little snugger because of your weekly (or daily) pains de chocolat.
I’m reading my way through the 2012 Giller Prize longlist: have you read this novel, or are you thinking about reading it?
It sounds like just about everyone should reads this – and I definitely will.
Next year I’m going to be able to join you reading through at least some of the Giller long list (This year, I have foolishly signed up for reading challenges that keep me stuck to predetermined reading list).
I have read Will Ferguson’s 419, though (about which I’ve heard nothing in the blogoshere). It’s one of those books that you think is good, though perhaps not great while you’re reading it, but that then stay with you for weeks or months afterward…
It will likely have a wide appeal, but the lyrical prose and the fragmented structure won’t suit every reader. I’m really looking forward to reading 419; I started it earlier this summer from the library but had to return it before I got very far. There’s a CBC chat with him about it here. (I have Ohlin and Davis up next, and I’ll probably put one “quieter” book before Ferguson’s…)
I’ve been avoiding this book as I was not a fan of his first book. I usually only read the Giller shortlist, and so I’m half hoping that this one (along with the new Anabel Lyon book – also not a fan of her first one!) don’t make it so I don’t hav to read them 😉
Well, sometimes it’s all about timing, right? You might love one of them on another reading occasion. It’s definitely interesting to gather a sense of the kinds of stories that these jurors most enjoy, and of course they are but three readers compiling a list…
I’m also reading through the Giller Longlist for this year, my first book from the list is Dr. Brinkley’s Tower.
I wasn’t to sure about this book, while I enjoyed his previous book it didn’t live up to it’s hype. But this one does look like it will be a good read, and might be worth reading before all the reviews poor in. I likely won’t get to this one right away as I’m thinking of reading Whirl Away or Everybody has Everything when I’m finishe with Dr. Brinkley’s Tower. What do you think of this years longlist? Who do you expect/want to see on the shortlist?
That’s great: I look forward to chatting about them with you! I read Dr. Brinkley’s Tower in a single day, fell under its spell and just kept reading and reading; I hope you enjoy it too. I like the longlist for selfish reasons; there are a lot of writers on it that I have been meaning to read for some time, and this is the perfect excuse to make reading time for them. They were all familiar to me, but I’d only read Hough’s novel, Livingston’s and Onstad’s debuts and a couple of Annabel Lyon’s stories. There were some names I’d expected to see on the list that weren’t there (e.g. Carrie Snyder, J.Jill Robinson) which made me wonder if the jury loves different books than I, but then there’s Hough’s novel on there, so I’m not sure about that yet; I’m still a long way from having a guess at their shortlist, and I’ve only read three so far myself, so I can’t put my own together yet either. How about you?
I’ve only heard of and read two authors on the list before. C.S. Richardson and Kim Thuy. I read Kim Thuy’s book Ru, earlier in the year and really enjoyed it. I had hoped to see it make it on the longlist when I saw it was eligible. As for the others, all new authors for me to read. My first impressions of the books vs what I’m actually reading are proving to be very different. I didn’t think I’d like Our Daily Bread, but read a few passages in a book store, and it looks promising. So now I’m not sure who will be on the shortlist. I do know one thing, the list that had all the eligible books for the prize has added a lot of books to my TBR pile.
That’s my favourite part, when I find out that a book I’d expected not to find interesting is actually very much so. I haven’t gotten a copy of Ru yet, but I’m looking forward to it; I’ve never heard anything negative about it, and it’s rare to have that kind of consensus about a book. I just peeked at their “eligible” page and now realize that I need to go back and make new lists of my own: there are lots there that I haven’t heard of either! *sharpens pencil*
When I went through the list, I found 73 books I wanted to read. Not including those on the Longlist. Doh!
Uh oh. Okay, not a project to undertake when one’s library holds are maxed out (thanks, ReLitAwardsList and IFOA events), but I can’t forget about it either.
I will definitely be reading this–dipped into the first few pages last night, but need to finish the Wharton book first (can’t carry two hardcovers around with me every day…plus the AMM!-that would be a workout in itself). Sounds lovely–just what I need right now.
Oooo, I’m so glad that I’ve tempted you into it: yay! (But, yes, those other books are physically a burden on your bookbag as it stands.) It would make quite a contrast to the Ann Marie MacDonald, stylistically, at least.
I find that even when the word count is small, a very good author can conjure up emotion and real feeling when they have the type of skill that Richardson obviously has. I love books about books, but this seems like it has something more. I am going to be looking out for this one, especially since I have loved all of Carlos Ruis Zafon’s work. Fantastic review today!
Each section of the prose is kind of like a beautiful photograph: you could spend a good chunk of time concentrating on each section, allowing the images to hold sway and feeling the depth of each scene. I think you’ll enjoy this one.