For part of the Magical Realism Blog Hop initiated over at Zoe Brooks’ awesome site, I wanted to post something new but I’m a bit pressed for time so I thought I’d share this post from my other site instead:
A Wild Sheep Chase – Mini Review
I loved A Wild Sheep Chase – I finished it a while back but finally got around to recording a couple of (brief) thoughts about it.
For me, this is a great place to start if you’re new to Haruki Murakami. The story has all the classic Murakami elements; an almost detective-like search, a mysterious, bewitching girl and wonderful surrealist aspects – most strikingly perhaps, in one hell of a strange sheep that no-one can seem to find.
Unlike say, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle‘s wider scope, this shorter novel has a swifter storyline and also features more surrealism than another popular entry point to his work, Norwegian Wood.
When I look back on it my strongest impression is actually (at first) thinking the ending wasn’t as strong as I was expecting, yet I found myself thinking about the end of the novel often in the days after. So, as it turns out, it was actually exactly what it needed to be.
Definitely worth getting a copy.
This post is part of the Magic Realism Blog Hop. About twenty blogs are taking part in the hop. Over three days (29th – 31st July 2015) these blogs will be posting about magic realism. Please take the time to click on the button below to visit them and remember that links to the new posts will be added over the three days, so do come back to read more.
in photographs of me
in the canals
my face eating the sunlight
in my memory
and even now that
winter is heavy
I somehow forget
wanting to push
my fellow tourists
into the green
and simply get on with
from once, years ago now
once being so far out
and no longer
thinking of jackets
just the slow clap
of feet on dry stone.
Next up in my Tintin Reading Challenge is The Crab with the Golden Claws. (Last time I read King Ottokar’s Sceptre). It’s been a while since I’ve posted on Tintin and, as before, I’m behind schedule so expect a few more Tintin posts close together soon :)
#9 – 1941
Another of my favourites – probably because it’s here that we first meet Haddock AND get treated to some of his fantastic strings of curses!
People familiar with the recent CGI film will see a lot of plot elements and scenes taken from the Crab, like the way Tintin meets Haddock and the use of the Karaboudjan, the sea plane escape and shootout, the crash and hallucinations in the desert etc
There’s also a fantastic little sequence where Haddock is screaming for revenge and the snap-zooms and rage on his face is priceless. More fantastic full-page images here too – this issue feels jam-packed with them, though it’s the underside of the sea-plane one that I liked the best.
Next up: The Shooting Star.
If anyone out there is working on a submission for the 2015 Poetry and Place Anthology here’s a reminder that subs are closing in about two weeks – July 31st.
So get those subs in :)
Guidelines can be found right here!
even of crowds
in the postcard
taxi after taxi –
As I mentioned not long ago, the sad news around funding for the Arts in Australia right now has impacted a lot of great journals and presses, one of which being IP, who published Stepping Over Seasons for me.
Due to this, I’ve taken on SOS myself and wanted to share a mock-up for the new cover, hope you like it!
Like my cover for The Fairy Wren and A Whisper of Leaves this was designed by the awesome Rebekah Haskell whose work can be found here at VividCovers. Stay tuned for a re-release date, hopefully late July.
Hi everyone – just a quick e-mail to let you know that with the sad news of IP being forced to reduce their publishing operations, my second poetry collection Stepping Over Seasons will now be reissued this year (late).
It’ll involve some minor updates and a few small ‘extras’ that I hope will be interesting! It’ll be available as paperback and ebook.
Stay tuned for more details and in the meantime, here’s one of the short ones from the collection:
out of the night
a slow moon
drips onto the driveway
lost back there somewhere
in the black-pupil sky,
his beams like
sagging tent ropes
while far below, patches of frost
sparkle on leaves
and he’s too tired
to take them back.