Read Ponce Pilate, a 1961 (!) short novel by the French writer Roger Caillois, that got (very positively) reviewed by Le Monde at the time. This is an uchrony that follows Pontius Pilate’s train (chariot?!) of thoughts as he considers the request by the Sanhedrin to crucify Jesus. Thanks to the book being mentioned with a morning press survey on France Inter, I went through this alternative history where Pilate dismiss the request and let Jesus free, who then dies of old age, with obvious consequences on the long-term future of Christian sects. The style is very pleasant and the revamping of Pilate as a weak stoic philosopher who eventually shows some (heavy) mettle most enjoyable. The reflection is mostly anachronic in the humanism, religious scepticism, and rationality of the character. There is also very little historical support for this vision of the man (whose end is unknown), but I did enjoy this celebration of free will and the refusal to commit a crime for the “greater good”. Some passages reminded me of Jorge Luis Borgès, whose Three Versions of Judas, published in 1944, presumably inspired Caillois, who also wrote a book on him. Maybe the essay was the final shove that made me give up on Stormlight Archives, by Brandon Sanderson, midway of the 1264 pages of Oathbringer, after I realised the trilogy was in fact a pentalogy! But also because finding myself more and more perturbed by a form of glorification of mass murder in the name of the “greater good”…
Made more “basic” salads with the growing offer from the local market. As well as stir fries of green peas while they last. And planted tomatoes and peppers, just before an hail storm tores through Paris (as shown by the huge volume of green leaves on the bike paths the next day). Fortunately, the storm skipped town and garden. Further dangers may still come to fruition before the plantations deliver, though. Same worry for the 20m² of buckwheat that have started to grow. (Just like last year, when they did not survive my fortnight in Venezia.)
Watched a silly movie around the Shinkansen, The Bullet Train Explosion, on a ride from Shin-Aomori to Tokyo, with a bomb threat that must be handled before arrival. Unrelentingly implausible, with the only appeal being the reproduction of the (antiquated?) General Control Center room. And the equally antiquated (but Tuftesque) timetables.
Collected the last chrosnes (Chinese artichokes) from my garden and panned them straight away, cleaning the spot for potatoes and tomatoes (and another attempt at growing chili peppers). Kept making roasted almond (before tariffs hit!, as they are already getting harder to find), cashew, peanut, and black sesame butters, more whey buckwheat and chickpea galettes (with a new twist to produce thinner crêpes, if not yet dosas), finding by sheer coïncidence that they qualify as Auvergne (Central France) 
