132, NG67, F67, E121 / WG65, M65, D11, NA12, C2, B10

Jodie Picoult, The Book of Two Ways

Irgendwie hatte ich noch garnicht mit einem neuen Buch von Picoult gerechnet und war völlig überrascht, als ich auf dieses stieß und feststellen musste, dass es schon im September erschienen ist. Und es faszinierte mich vom Fleck weg, der Themen wegen - Äygypten natürlich vor allem, aber auch Todbegleitung, Paralleluniversen, Flugzeugabsturz - und das erste Kapitel mit der Ankunft der Erzählerin in Kairo nahm mich vollends gefangen. Da war soviel, was ich wiedererkannte und das mich anrührte. Bis etwa zum letzten Drittel interpretierte ich die parallele Konstruktion des Buches als eine Art zwei Leben die parallel liefen (möglicherweise war das auch so von Picoult gedacht) und konnte einfach nicht entscheiden, welches der beiden Leben sich als das unwirkliche, unwahre herausstellen würde, und Picoults Plot Twist kam dann doch sehr überraschend. Ein rundum gelungenes, reiches und vielfältiges Buch, das "Leaving Time" wahrscheinlich den Rang als Lieblingsbuch streitig machen wird.
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Leave everything behind.
For someone who makes a living through death, I haven't given a lot of thought to my own.
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I once read that every story is a love story. Love of a person, a country, a way of life. Which means, of course, that all tragedies are about losing what you love.
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In every fairy tale, the only way out is to keep running forward. To never look back.
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I know it feels crass to talk about death in such mercenary terms, but that's the very problem with death in the first place. We don't know how to talk about it. We use euphemisms and discuss pearly gates and angels while glossing over the fact that we have to die to get there. We treat it like a mystery, when in fact, it's the one experience all of us are guaranteed to share.
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You can argue that all fear is related to death. Fear of spiders? You're really afraid of being bitten and killed. Fear of heights? Falling to your death. Fear of flying? Crashing. Snakes, fire - you get it. Jerry Seinfeld even says that people are more terrified of public speaking than dying, so if you're asked to give a eulogy, the person inside the coffin is better off than the one giving the talk. Why are people so afraid of dying? Well, that's easy. Because it's hard for us to conceive of a world without us in it.
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Maybe Wyatt is not the only one who's wrong about the point of life. Maybe it's not about accumulating knowledge or accumulating love. Maybe it's just about collecting regrets.
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"No. I think that you can love more than one person in a lifetime. There's the one who teaches you what love is, even if it doesn't last." Wyatt. "And then there's the one who makes you a better human than you were, even as you do the same for him." Brian.
"And then there's the last one," Alberto adds. "The one that you never get enough time with. But who sees you through to the end."
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(Jodi Picoult, The Book of Two Ways, 2020)

130, WG64, M65, E119, C2, B10 / NG66, F65, D11, NA12

Neil Gaiman, The Sandman Library VIII: Worlds' End

In der gesamten Sandman-Serie geht es um Geschichten, Stories in allen Arten und Formen und in diesem Band scheint alles zu kulminieren. Unzählige Geschichten werden ineinander verschachtelt - wie russische Puppen wie Stephen King in seinem Vorwort bemerkt - bis sie am Ende in eine Geschichte münden, die der erste Erzähler ganz am Anfang in einer Bar erzählt. Aber ist dies auch wirklich der Abschluß?
Selbst nach kanpp 20 Jahren habe ich immer noch nicht genug vom Sandman und irgendwie war diesmal dieser Band an der Reihe. Vielleicht hänge ich auch noch "The Wake" dran, den hab ich auch schon länger nicht mehr gelesen ...
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These are great stories, and we're all lucky to have them. To read Now, and maybe again 'Then', later on, when we need what only a good story has the power to do: to take us away to worlds that never existed, in the company of people we wish we were ... or thank God we aren't.

(Stephen King, aus dem Vorwort zu Neil Gaimans Worlds' End, the Sandman Library VIII, 1994)

129, NG66, M64, E118, NA12 / WG63, F65, D11, C1, B9

Richard Osman, The Thursday Murder Club

Ja, ganz entfernt erinnerte es mich an Agatha Crhistie. Und ein bißchen an Midsomer Murders, immerhin gibt es hier auch die standardmäßigen drei Leichen. Aber das wars auch schon wirklich, spätestens nach dem ersten Drittel hatte mich das Buch mit seinem ungewöhnlichem Ermittlerteam und der guten Mischung von Humor und Wehmut überzeugt. Besonders die Tagebuchpassagen von Joyce sind einfach nur schön. Wenn es tatsächlich eine Fortsetzung geben sollte, dann hoffe ich, dass er sie genauso gut hinkriegt.

After a certain age, you can pretty much do whatever takes your fancy. No one tells you off, except for your doctors and your children.
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Memory was the bogeyman that stalked Coopers Chase. Forgetfulness, absentmindedness, muddling up names.
What did I come in here for? The grandchildren would giggle at you. The sons and daughters would joke too, but keep a watchful eye. Every so often you would wake at night in cold dread. Of all the things to lose, to lose one's mind? Let them take a leg or a lung, let them take anything before they take that. Before you became 'Poor Rosemary', or 'Poor Frank', catching the last glimpses of the sun and seeing them for what they were. Before they were no more trips, no more games, no more Murder Clubs. Before there was no more you.
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Every time you like the look of someone you swipe their picture to the right (or to the left, I can't remember). Meanwhile, somewhere nearby they are scrolling through pictures too and if they like the look of you they also swipe to the right (or left) and the two of you are a match.
Honestly, it breaks your heart to scroll through. It's reminded me of those photos of lost cats you see on lamp posts. It's all that hope, I think.

(Richard Osman, The Thursday Murder Club, 2020)

124, WG59, F61, E113 / NG65, M63, D11, C1, NA11, B9

Kathy Reichs, Deja Dead

Der allererste Tempe Brennan-Band, in dem Reichs noch 'richtige' Datumsangaben macht, mit Jahresangaben, was bedeutet, dass die gute Forensikerin schon seit spätestens 1994 - 26 Jahren - kriminalistisch aktiv ist und somit das Rentenalter erreicht haben dürfte. But who really cares? Ich hatte schon lange vor, die ganze Reihe nochmal zu lesen und war sehr überrascht darüber wieviel ich davon vergessen hatte. Sehr interessant ist, wie anders der Stil hier noch ist - viel mehr Beschreibungen und Atmosphäre, weniger Spekulationen. Und wesentlich längere Sätze obwohl sich hie und da schon dieses atemlose draufloserzählen bemerkbar macht, das die späteren Bände so charakterisiert. Der Hauptunterschied ist vermutlich Ryan, hier tritt er kaum in Erscheinung und wenn, dann als Freund und Kollege, mehr nicht.
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Like life. I've long suspected that many of my memories of childhood are actually drawn from old pictures, that they are a composite of snapshots, a mosaic of celluloid images reworked into a remembered reality. Kodak cast backward. Maybe it's better to recall the past that way. We rarely take pictures of sad occasions.

(Kathy Reichs, Deja Dead, 1997)

114, NG57, M55, E110, / WG57, F59, D4, B8, C1, NA10

Markus Zusak, I am the Messenger

Das Buch dümpelte schon seit Ewigkeiten in meiner Wunschliste herum, seit "The Book Thief" ohne dass ich mich entschließen konnte es auf den Paperwhite zu laden. Nachdem Fictionwriter95 es mir noch einmal ans Herz legte, hab ich ich doch endlich aufgerafft und konnte es dann kaum wieder weglegen. Besonders der abgehackte knappe Erzählstil und der trockene Humor sind faszinierend und die Auflösung am Ende ist pure Tongue in Cheek. Ich denke mal, mit dem nächsten Buch von dem Autor lasse ich mir nicht mehr soviel Zeit.
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Sometimes people are beautiful.
Not in looks.
Not in what they say.
Just in what they are.
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I got hearts, and for some reason, this feels the most dangerous of them all.
People die of broken hearts. They have heart attacks. And it's the heart that hurts most when things go wrong and fall apart.

(Markus Zusak, I am the Messenger, 2002)

112, NG55, M53, E108 / WG57, F59, NA9, D4, B8, C1

The Darkling Halls of Ivy, edited by Lawrence Block

Eine neue Anthologie von Lawrence Block ist immer wert gelesen zu werden, und wenn auch nur wegen seines Vorworts - bei dem er diesmal noch dazu bemerkt, dass man es getrost überspringen könnte. Die Stories sind aber auch nicht zu verachten, besonders "Requiem for a Homecoming" von David Morrell, "Alt-AC" von Warren Moore, "The Degree" von Joe R. Lansdale, "The Reasoners" von Ian Rankin, "Monkey in Residence" von Xu Xi, "The Golden Way" von Owen King und "Goon #4" von Tod Goldberg.
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Over the years, I've occasionally entertained the notion of a sojourn in academia. It has long been a compelling fantasy, replete with ivy-covered walls, a book-lined study, a glowing hearth, eager students - and you can take it from there. Not the least of its virtues as fantasy was that I needn't worry about ever having to see it fulfilled. A fantasy brought to life is almost always a disappointment - and yes, that's probably true even of he naughty little three-way you've been secretly drooling over for years.

(Lawrence Block, aus "Something to Skip" (Foreword), 2020)
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College was where you figured out who you were, and tossed out your old pretensions once and for all. Life didn't turn you into a grown-up. You made yourself one.

(Owen King, aus "The Golden Way", 2020)
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111, NG54, F59, E107 / WG57, M52, NA9, D4, B8, C1

Lisa Jewell, One-Hit Wonder

Bald gibt es von dieser Autorin auch nichts mehr, was ich nicht schon kenne, was eigentlich schade ist. Dieser Band las sich auch wieder unter der Nase weg, besonders am Anfang, als Ana die Wohnung ihrer verstorbenen Schwester räumt und beginnt zu erkennen wie anders sie war als sie dachte. Das Ende war für meinen Geschmack fast schon zu rührselig, aber eben auch sehr passend.
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Maybe she was here now, a soul in limbo, watching Ana packing away her things and wondering what the fuck she was doing. Ana often had this really strange thought when famous people died untimely deaths - the thought that they didn't know that they were dead, that no one had told them. She imagined Diana on that Sunday morning in 1997, coming down for breakfast and reading the headlines, switching on the TV and seeing pictures of the mangled Mercedes in the underpass, the photos of Henri Paul, the CCTV of her and Dodi leaving the Paris Ritz and thinking no, no, no and ... Ana sighed and got to her feet. She really was a very morbid, very weird person sometimes.
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".. Can I tell you the worst thing about getting old, Ana? They try and make out that ageing is all about gain - gaining experience, wisdom, happiness, all that. They're lying. All getting older is about is loss. Losing things. Losing your hair, your figure, your looks. Losing your sight. Losing your hearing. Losing your mother, losing your father. Losing time to experience things. Losing touch with people, losing your mind. And the worst thing of all - losing memories. The more time you've got to look back on, the less you remember."
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Ana shrugged. "I'm not sure about heaven as such, but I do sometimes get this strange feeling that people are watching me. You know. Dead people. Not in a spooky, ghostly sort of way, just in a sort of calm way, like I'm in a play and they're in the audience. It's a feeling of not being alone, rather than a belief that we'll all meet up again, one day. If that makes any sense?"
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(Lisa Jewell, One-hit Wonder, 2001)