Profil

Great book, where the author reflects on what is a copy, what is an original, and all the nuances of life in between. It doesn't hurt that the narrator, despite the circumstances, is a strong and relatable young woman, in the middle of characters that are all interesting.

A really funny comedy about a young lesbian clown who's trying to figure out her life in central Florida. So while I'm still not too impressed by clowns in general, there were a lot a good musings about the art of clowning, about the parallels between being queer and a clown, about capitalism and central Florida. It felt at times like the narrator was more 18 than 28 in how she handled things, but maybe it's just me growing old—after all, I can't pretend I had my shit figured out at 28.

A strange and delightful short novel about a young women who is hired by a museum to talk to the statue of Venus, in Latin. But there's more to it than that, as the narrator goes about her life, her other job, and her relationship with her old landlady and the boy next door. It's superbly written, with dashes of odd humour—and yes, the statue talks back.

An enjoyable space opera: the characters aren't too cliche (but well, dyke pirates are always a bit cliche)(which is fine, really), the world-building is pretty coherent and original, the dose of humour is just right and more importantly, the writing is really fine. I got a bit lost at the very end when a lot is revealed but it doesn't make it less enjoyable. I also appreciated that it wasn't the beginning of some intricate quadrilogy—it's pretty much a standalone pirate heist.

Ce n'est pas juste l'expérience de la rue qui est racontée ici, c'est aussi une tranche de vie du gauchisme (sans sens péjoratif) du début des années 70 et au delà, une réflexion sur l'engagement, le combat contre l'extrême droite et la violence révolutionnaire. Enfin, Chalandon nomme un certain nombre de victimes du racisme de ces années, assassinées par l'extrême droite, un rappel salutaire.

Une réflexion sensible sur le journalisme de guerre, la manière dont on aborde ses origines et son héritage, et comment on s'immisce dans la vie des autres pour la raconter.

The most fascinating aspect of this novel is the way the narrator in the first part explores the past —our present— dissecting our societies, our complacency, our selfishness, in a striking but not unkind way. The future imagined by the author takes place after the catastrophes, in a much reduced and difficult world, but not the post-apocalyptic setting that's become so boring and cliche, and by framing it this way, McEwan is able to question a lot. Yet, the fundamental question is in the title, what can we know? And what can we do with that?