It’s been a busy few weeks, beginning with a reading in London. Now we’ve been in the Vaucluse for a month, with and without visitors. We return to Paris tomorrow.

Books I’ve had on hold in my online library have been turning up, including the audio of Rushdie’s Midnight Children, a long term project for which I have 3 weeks and then it’s back to the waitlist. It’s wonderful; there are so many interlinking stories that you could probably pick it anywhere and be entertained. Earlier this year I listened to The Satanic Verses, the same experience: I could pick it up and ‘read’ anywhere with pleasure and some idea of the plots.

A few days ago I was notified, after another longish wait, that I could pick up (virtually) Murakami’s Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World (print not audio). The story starts in an elevator, which ‘was so slow that all sense of direction simply vanished.’ I’ve had that experience, but in my case it was because I’ve pushed the number of the floor I’m on. My library warns me that three people are in line behind me.

Audiobooks are best for bedtime, or the middle of the night when you are rehashing an argument you had that day or 10 years ago, or when you’ve attended an overstimulating zoom meeting scheduled after your bedtime in another part of the world.

Back to Murakami.

Beverley Bie Brahic