Welcome to this month's edition of Six Degrees of Separation, which is a monthly meme hosted by Kate from Books Are My Favourite and Best. The idea is to start with a specific book and make a series of links from one book to the next using whatever link you can find and see where you end up after six links. I am also linking this post up with The Sunday Salon, hosted by Deb at Readerbuzz.
This month's starting point is Dangerous Liaisons by Pierre Choderlos de Laclos. I looked and thought yay! An opportunity to choose some books set in France. And then I looked at last month's post and realise that the majority of them were set in France! Let's see where the chain takes us this month.
Another French classic is Les Miserables by Victor Hugo. I read this a long time ago now. I just bought tickets to see this in an arena show in May. Should be interesting to see it in a crowd of around 10000 people, presumably singing along in some parts. Will have to watch the movie version to refresh my memory between now and then.
I have seen a number of plays and shows that were originally based on a book. A while ago now we went to see Dictionary of Lost Words by Pip Williams, and I also saw her live at Melbourne Writers Festival.
Recently, I read There Are Rivers in the Sky by Elif Shafak. I saw her online at Adelaide Writers Festival a few years ago. In There Are Rivers in the Sky, there were a couple of paragraphs musing over the nature of numbers and words, something I end up overthinking about myself on occasion. I tend to think more about who was the first person who called something it's name and why did they choose that, or how did the words evolve in the first place, because some words just look a little odd. I couldn't fit the passage into my review but I thought I would share it here instated.
Sniffling, the boy pulls up his collar and rubs his hands. It is not good. The wind pierces through his frayed garments, chilling his bones. He does not mind the cold as much as the hunger. Hunger is a beehive in his abdomen, one that has been stirred with a stick, buzzing day and night, jostling, irritated and frantic. He reckons the bees need a distraction, something to keep them busy and out of mischief. So he seeks help from mathematics. Whenever he feels worried, he does sums and multiplications in his head. He takes a gander at a lady with a parasol strolling along the park or a gentleman in a top hat sprinting across the square, and he sets himself the task of calculating how many ruffles are on her skirt or how many lines pattern his frock-coat. Numbers, with their unwavering reliability, comfort him and make him forget the pangs in his belly.
Hearing the snap of a whip now, Arthur instinctively recoils. As he has reached a busy high street, he needs to be extremely watchful. Last winter on this very spot a man was trampled to death by a hansom cab. The horses slipped in a rut in the road, pulling the carriage a full tilt even as they charged on over human flesh and bones. No sooner does the boy reflect on that day than the word 'accident' flashes through his mind, leaving a curious taste in his mouth Words always come to him with their distinctive flavours. 'Accident' is gamey, like burning fat and stale sausages, bags o'mystery, whose ingredients no one really knows. 'School' has a pungency that lingers on the tongue, like licking old boots. And 'mother' is buttery, warm and sweet, though with an acidic undertone, reminiscent of an apple pie gone sour. For years, Arthur assumed it must be the same for everyone, that other people also experienced similar associations, until he realized this was not the case. Since then he has been careful not to mention it to anyone. A quiet boy by nature, there are lot of thing she keeps to himself.
Keeping with the idea of words, my next choice is The Beautiful Words by Vanessa McCausland. I still need to read her latest book.
I recently bought a new book called Pipsworth by Simon Van Booy. The only book I have read by him previously is Everything Beautiful Began After so I am using the word beautiful to create this link.
I am finishing this month using the word began as my link. I am choosing Tomorrow When the War Began by John Marsden, who recently passed away. Vale John Marsden.
Next month, the starting point is the 2023 Booker Prize winner, Prophet Song by Paul Lynch.
Will you be joining us?
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