Read a third of (a physical copy of) T.J. Klune’s In the Lives of Puppets before giving up. Unbearably boring, predictable, dripping cheap sentimentality and cheaper robotic humour. Worse than the earlier House in the Cerulean Sea. That I already did not much enjoy. (I bought the book in Edinburgh while at SMC 2024, as a 3-4-2 deal, along another one I had to return because it was volume 2 of a series I had not yet started!, not so much of a deal in the end!!, even though I manage to exchange it for Naomi Novik’s The Golden Enclaves) Also read the silent BD Béatrice, by Joris Mertens, set in the same imaginary city as Nettoyage à Sec, a mix of Paris (mostly) and Bruxelles/Brussels (partly), except with a fantasy side. The 1960’s atmosphere, the asphyxiating weight of the city, the isolation of the young saleswoman, the large scale boxes make both BDs outstanding. And I started Don Quixote (in French), which reads surprisingly well (possibly thanks to the translation) and layered with many levels of irony and pastiche, never too late to discover classics I had not yet read!
Made heaps of rhubarb preserve and jam (with honey, lemon, maybe too much lemon, and chia seeds). And learned from friends how to make Guatemalan maïze tortilla and frijoles. Had a great meal with them at Ze Kitchen Galerie, on the eve of the Paris Olympics, which meant entering a maze of barriers installed along the Seine river (and Xing paths with the president of the local football club, not that I would have had the slightest clue of who he was without the excitement of passerbys). Alas missed a chance-in-a-decade opportunity to have dinner at Da Franz, due to my ospedale days.
Watched the first season of Travellers, a 2016 Canadian TV series about time travel agents arriving in the current era to save the future and the many paradoxes it induces. Soon spiralling into homely concerns and out of the slightest plausibility, if with enticing characters.
