1974 by David Peace (1999) Translated by Daniel Lemoine.
Edward Dunford is a rookie journalist, just hired as North of England Crime Correspondent at the Yorkshire Evening Post. The book starts on Friday 13 December 1974. Eddie’s father has just died and he’s attending a press conference at the Millgarth Police Station, Leeds. Little Clare Kemplay has been missing since the day before on her way back from school. Soon, her body is found in a nearby alley. Edward makes a connection between this murder and the murders of two other little girls. Jeanette Garland missing since 1969 in Castleford. Susan Ridyard missing since 1972 in Rochdale, in 1972.
Eddie starts digging. His colleague Barry Gannon is on a big case that he calls the Dawsongate. He’s investigating shady transactions in the construction business owned by John Dawson. He’s on the verge of getting the evidence he needs. He gets murdered on December 16th. Eddie inherits of his material.
Who is the link between the three murdered little girls? What was Barry about to reveal?
Ambitious Eddie will follow leads and from informative phone calls, to strange visits and police tips, he will start his journey to hell. Corruption is wherever you look. Among the police. Among the press. Among the powerful men of the territory. Eddie will be in the cross-fire between the three, trying to save his career and his life while attempting to discover the truth about these horrible acts.
Everything happens between December 13 and Christmas Eve. David Peace installs the nervous pace of his literary style from the first paragraphs:
‘All we ever get is Lord fucking Lucan and wingless bloody crows,’ smiled Gilman, like this was the best day of our lives:
Friday 13 December 1974.
Waiting for my fist Front Page, the Byline Boy at last: Edward Dunford, North of England Crime Correspondent; two days too fucking late.
I looked at my father’s watch.
9 a.m0 and no bugger had been to bed; straight from the Press Club, still stinking of ale, into this hell:
The Conference Room, Millgarth Police Station, Leeds.
The whole bloody pack sat waiting for the main attraction, pens poised and tapes paused; ht TV lights and cigarette smoke lighting up the windowless room like a Town Hall boxing ring on a Late Night Fight Night; the paper boys taking it out on the TV set, the radios static and playing it deaf:
‘They got sweet FA’
‘A quid says she’s dead if they got George on it.’
Khalil Aziz at the back, no sign of Jack.
I felt a nudge. It was Gilman again, Gilman from the Manchester Evening News and before.
‘Sorry to hear about your old man, Eddie’
‘Yeah, thanks,’ I said, thinking news really did travel fucking fast.
‘When’s the funeral?’
I looked at my father’s watch again. ‘In about two hours.’
‘Jesus. Hadden still taking his pound of bloody flesh, then.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, knowing, funeral or no funeral, no way I’m letting Jack fucking Whitehead back on this one.
‘I’m sorry, like’
‘Yeah,’ I said.
It’s a long quote but it gives the atmosphere of the novel in a nutshell. The ingredients are there. Eddie mourning his father but in competition with the star journalist Jack Whitehead. The fake camaraderie between the journalists. The show delivered by the police. The interdependence between the police and the press. The demands of Hadden, Eddie’s boss.
The loose use of punctuation gives a staccato rhythm to the book and it will follow us for the whole ride. I have to admit: Thank God I had this one in translation. I was already fairly lost in French, I can’t even imagine what it would have been in English. It’s a first person narrative, so we’re with Eddie the whole time. It’s violent because the methods of the police are made of beating and torture. There’s an urgency to the story that keeps you breathless. We’re walking in the dark with Eddie, trying to weave the threads of information together to create the tapestry of events. Not easy before computer and cell phones times.
I know that Nineteen Seventy-Four is loosely based upon the real case of the Yorkshire Ripper. I’m French and was still in diapers in 1974. I know nothing about this case. Just like I knew nothing about the Lucan case when I read Aiding and Abetting by Muriel Spark. I did a bit of reading on Wikipedia. This serial killer murdered prostitutes, not little girls. Fiction is mixed with facts. Edward Dunford is from Osset, like David Peace. The investigation on the Yorkshire Ripper was done by Assistant Chief Constable George Oldfield who was highly criticized for his handling of the case. Here, George Oldfield is the name of the Chief Superintendent in charge of the investigation. I’m sure there are other parts of the novel that borrow to the real case. Does that bother me? Not really because it is not a novel about this case. It’s a novel about a similar serial killer and Peace probably used the information about the Yorkshire Ripper to give back the atmosphere of the time, the way the police worked and how the whole intelligentsia of West Yorkshire holds themselves together through shared secrets.
Nobody had interest in shaking the whole system and Eddie is a willing pawn. He’s not a likeable character either. Women are means for sex, however damaged they might be, he’s in this mainly for his own advancement and his competition with Jack Whitehead for the title of best crime journalist. He’s not a noble character fighting to right wrongs in a corrupt world. And yet he continues.
This is Noir, very very Noir fiction and Peace’s style makes it worth your time. Granted it’s not an asset for the Department of Tourism of West Yorskshire, even if it is set 40 years ago.
For another review, have a look at Max’s excellent post here.
The Cardboard Hammocks by Colin Niel (2012) French title: Les Hamacs de carton.
Colin Niel is a French crime fiction writer who works as an environmental engineer and is specialized in the preservation of biodiversity. He worked in French Guiana several years and started a crime fiction series set in this overseas department and whose recurring character is capitaine André Anato.
The novel opens on Barnabé, a six-years old Maroon boy who lives in the remote village of Wetisoula on the river Maroni. The Maroon community in French Guiana represents 70 000 people out of 244 000 inhabitants in the department. They don’t acknowledge the border between Guiana and Suriname, each country being on one bank of the river Maroni. Wetisoula is a fictional village, populated by Maroon people and located nearby Apatou.
Little Barnabé wakes up early and runs to the river to get cleaned up for the day. He’s surprised that his friend Tobie isn’t awake yet as they usually compete to see who’ll be up first. He decides to go and fetch him and finds him dead in his hammock. Tobie’s mother Thélia and his brother Justin are dead too. In their sleep. Thélia’s husband, Fernand, is a gold panner and he usually doesn’t stay with his family. He visits them as often as possible.
The village is only reachable in dugout canoe and this is how capitaine Anato and lieutenant Vacaresse arrive on the scene. From the outside, nothing obvious shows the cause of Thélia and her children’s deaths. They seem peaceful. Thélia was a hardworker and a farmer; she grew different vegetables and Vacaresse soon discovers that she also grew cannabis. Does this production have a link with her death? Anato decides to leave Vacaresse in the village to investigate further. He goes back to Cayenne to try to find out where and how Thélia sold her crops, the legal and the illegal one.
Fernand leads Anato and Vacaresse towards Olivier Degricourt, a man who works in a garage in Cayenne and who knew Thélia. Olivier and his partner Monique had befriended Thélia and her children and used visit them in Wetisoula. But Fernand knew that Thélia was afraid of Olivier. When Anato finds him, Olivier flees before Anato has even the chance to talk to him. What does he feel guilty about?
A few days after the Wesitoula murder, Véronique Morhange is found dead in a park in Cayenne. She was a civil servant working for the administration that delivers identity papers. The cardboard hammocks of the title are the suspension folders that Véronique Morhange uses to keep track of the files of people who fill in applications to get French identity papers. The procedure can be complicated, especially for people who were born in remote places where getting documents such has birth certificates is a problem.
Are these crimes related? Anato and his team investigate.
I found his book fascinating on every aspect. Colin Niel writes a thick plot around these murders, describes aspects of life in French Guiana and draws attaching characters. The story behind the murders is well drafted and the reader is eager to know what happened. There is a real sense of place in this polar coming from the author’s life in French Guiana. I enjoyed reading about the funeral rites and other customs of the Maroon community. He explains them but not with too many details that you forget about the plot and think he digressed too far. Because let’s face it, you are here to read a good story and unwind, not read an essay about the history of the Maroons in French Guiana. I also found his descriptions of place, of the vegetation and local food interesting. The text is livened up with local words and my edition includes a useful glossary. I don’t know much about this overseas department and I was glad to learn about it. It was a bit strange to feel at the same time in a familiar place (this is France and the local institutions are here to prove it) and in a totally strange country because the geography and the local history is so far away from our life in mainland France.
And last but not least, the characters are likeable and I want to see them again. Anato is an odd character and I’m curious to see how Niel will develop him. He comes from the Maroon community but has never lived in French Guiana. He’s lived all his life near Paris and after his parents’ tragic death in a car accident, he asked to be transferred to Guiana. He’s in a strange place: he looks like a local but doesn’t know anything about local life. He’s estranged from his family and he’s trying to build a relationship with them. He lost his feeling of belonging to a place, to a family, to a community. He’s a bit adrift and has trouble connecting with his team. He’s new and his men don’t know what to make of him. He needs to earn their respect. His lieutenant Vicaresse has also a scar in his personal life and his stay in this Maroon village might have triggered something in him. The third man of this team of gendarmes is Girbal, who helped Anato with his investigation in Cayenne. He’s harder to pin down; it’s difficult to say if his methods of investigation are the mark of an intuitive investigator or of a skiver.
The Anato series has two volumes (so far) and I will read the next one with pleasure. I’m sorry to report that it is only available in French and that it goes in the Translation Tragedy category. Any Publisher interested?
Business is Business by Octave Mirbeau (1903) French title: Les affaires sont les affaires
We’re in a chateau in the suburb of Paris, probably in the West, in a property that now belongs to Isidore Lechat. It’s called Vauperdu and was allegedly built under Louis XIV. Isidore Lechat is a businessman and a parvenu. He has a knack for business, doesn’t shy away from playing dirty to achieve his goals. He’s formidable and vulgar, intelligent but whimsical. He has that business acumen that some people have; they’re able to get what will work, will be trendy, will make him money. His net worth is 50 million of francs.
The play opens in the gardens of the chateau. Madame Lechat is sitting outside with her daughter Germaine. It’s 6pm, they’re waiting for Isidore to come back from his business day in Paris. Madame Lechat is anxious because her husband always brings home unexpected guests. She wonders if she’ll have enough to serve a proper diner. From Germaine’s replies and comments, the spectator quickly understands that she despises her father’s money and especially the way he earnt it.
Isidore is a ruthless businessman, earning money is his goal, even if it means bulldozing people. He’s unstoppable when he wants something. He despises culture and intellectuals. He’s friends with politicians. He bought a newspaper. And now he wants to go into politics and be elected as a député. (MP) Does that ring a bell? He’s been to prison, went bankrupt and recovered. He seems to fall back on his feet each time and to have seven lives, like a cat. Perhaps that’s why he’s named Lechat (The Cat). He’s restless and greedy. He wants more every day.
Of course, it’s hard to see Isidore Lechat and not think about Donald Trump, Berlusconi or Bernard Tapie if you’re French. He’s also a theatre soul mate of Zola’s Aristide Saccard, the main character of La Curée.
The play revolves around Isidore and he’s taught a lesson about the cost of his business choices on his family. He’s proud of his son Xavier, who lives the happy life of a rich heir, mingling with people at the Jockey Club. (This is a very elitist club in Paris. In Proust, Swann is a member of this club) Isidore is new money who’d like to slip into old money’s shoes. But it’s not so easy. He wants to destroy the aristocracy and yet copies their customs. One of his aristocratic neighbors makes fun of him and tells him money is not enough, there’s a spirit to it, that he should invent new customs instead of mimicking the aristocrats. He doesn’t know what to do with Germaine who recoils from him; he’d love to marry her to an aristocrat but it’s not in the cards.
Madame Lechat comes from the same background. She knows all his flaws but supports him. She doesn’t have a conscience either and doesn’t share her daughter’s reservations about the means used to get this rich. When she complains that she never knows whether she needs to organize a diner, Germaine points out that she’d better consider that she’ll have guests and be ready every night. Madame Lechat argues that Isidore might come back alone and then, what about the food? When Germaine replies that she can always give the food away to the poor, Madame Lechat is offended. You don’t feed the poor with chicken. This exchange is representative of the Lechat couple. They’re both greedy and have absolutely no compassion for the poor. They’d rather chase them away. They reminded me of these bourgeois in the 16th arrondissement of Paris (the richest one) who are currently signing petitions against the foundation of a shelter for homeless people in their neighborhood. Their shocking lack of humanity was all over the papers. What a shame. They should be grateful for their circumstances and give back to the less fortunate.
There are fascinating exchanges about money, about getting rich and live with all this money. Mirbeau depicts a despicable character in Isidore but remains fair on two levels, his genuine love for his children and the fact that his wealth attracts all kinds of crooks who attempt to take advantage of him. Madame Lechat says she feels that she doesn’t belong in this mansion. She doesn’t feel at home but on holiday, in a property that belongs to someone else.
There’s a lot to chew over in this play. It’s disgruntling to know who Isidore looks like. He’s one of these businessmen who flirt with illegality to get ahead but have such charisma that people like them anyway. He’s one of these politicians who get reelected time and again even if their character is doubtful or if they had trouble with the law. Yes, Mirbeau drew a very believable tale and nailed a type of character that still exists today.
The play was directed by Claudia Stavisky who did an amazing job. The actors were excellent and physically matched their characters. Madame Lechat was played by Marie Bunel, a classic blonde beauty. François Marthouret was a fantastic Isidore Lechat with his moustache and his loquacity. The clothes of the actors displayed their social status. The smarmy business men in their suits with their hair slicked back on their head. The aristocrats with classic clothes that scream old money and old values. Isidore’s outfit that tells “I’m expensive” but lacks class. The décor was well chosen, with high French doors to picture an old building and allowed scenes indoors and outdoors.
This was my first Mirbeau; now I’m curious about his Journal d’une femme de chambre. (Journal of a Chambermaid)
PS: I think the cover of the play is not good. Indeed, the man on the picture is Count Robert de Montesquiou, who was the inspiration for Charlus is In Search of Lost Time. This man was a dandy, elegant, cultivated and gay. Nothing to do with Isidore Lechat.
Mindreader by Iain Levison (2015) French title: Ils savent tout de vous. Translated by Fanchita Gonzales Batlle.
This one was a total disappointment on two levels. The first one is on me. I’d already read A Working Stiff’s Manifesto by Iain Levison, a novel based on his experience as a poor worker in America and I heard his interview on France Inter about Mindreader whose French title is Ils savent tout de vous (They know everything about you) My previous read of a Levison book, his interview on France Inter and the French title of the novel led me into expecting a novel about internet and social media. Something in the line of Andrew Blackman’s Virtual Love. Had I known the English title, I wouldn’t have been surprised by the main idea of the book: what if the FBI had some chosen individuals operated to have them become mindreaders? What an asset they would be in international negotiations, in interrogations of terrorists, etc.
Jared Snowe is one of them. He’s a deputy in the Kearns police force in Massachusetts and he start hearing the thoughts of other people. He’s just exploring his new power when agent Terry Dyers finds out that he’s “awaken”. She was operated too, but the other way round: her mind is unreadable to mindreaders. She protects the secrets of the program and she can meet with the mindreaders.
Now she has another mission to attend to. She needs to transfer Brooks Denny from a prison in Oklahoma to participate to negotiations at the UN building in New York. He’s also a mindreader. Problem is: Denny ended up in prison because he killed a policeman. He’s in the death row. Getting him out of here won’t be easy.
Terry and her boss Emmanuel puts things in motion though and everything goes according to plan until Denny’s ward gets nosy and goes through Terry’s things. He understands that Denny will be killed after his job, he’s happy that this cop killer will die. He thinks about it in Denny’s presence, Denny hears it and decides to take the French leave.
Who can go after a mindreader? Another mindreader. That’s where Snowe comes into the mix…
So we have two mindreaders on the loose and one FBI team who needs them back under their control but must keep things under wraps about their program. Who will win the chase?
Mindreading and the angst that go with it. No offense, Iain Levison, but Stephenie Meyer beat you to it in Twilight. Her vampire hears other people’s thoughts, except Bella’s and we know how crowded his head is from all the wandering thoughts around him.
Mindreader has nothing to do with social media and all the IT traces we leave in our everyday lives with our phones, computers, cars and so on. One evening, my work Iphone informed that if I left the office right now, it would take me 34min to get home. This is my work phone. I have no personal data in it. I guess it just tracked where I spend my days and where I spend my nights and assumed these locations where work and home. It kind of freaked me out. This topic is a tremendous playing field for dystopian fiction. (or not so dystopian, btw) Here, this path isn’t explored, except slightly through a member of the FBI team, Jerry, who has mad competences with internet tracking. It seems such a waste of good plot material and from what I heard of his interview, Iain Levison could do better on the political and social exploration of the theme. So it was a disappointment.
If it wasn’t meant to be that serious, then it didn’t go overboard enough. A few billets ago, I answered the questions of the Book FanCarroting Award and one of the questions was: Which book would you like to see re-written by your favorite writer? I have a new answer to this question now. I want Mindreader re-written by Duane Swierczynski. What a blast it would be.
Death Without Company by Craig Johnson (2006) French title: Le camp des morts. (Translated by Sophie Aslanides)
A life without friends means death without company (Basque proverb)
Death Without Company is the second volume of the Longmire series by Craig Johnson. I wrote a billet about Little Bird, the first volume here. The novel opens with a piece of everyday life as a sheriff in Durant, Absaroka County, Wyoming. We follow Walt Longmire on duty. The one and only gravedigger gives him a crash course on burial and how in the old days, they had to put a fire for several hours to defrost the ground and bury folks who were inconsiderate enough to die in the Wyoming winter. Then Walt goes back to Durant where he had left [his] erstwhile deputy to shanghai prospective jurors for the local judicial system. Poor Vic is on the parking lot of the supermarket, enrolling jurors.Longmire’s entire staff is reduced to Vic, the assistant Ruby and deputy Jim Ferguson who only works part time. Turk left for the motorway patrol and Longmire hires Santiago Saizarbitoria as a replacement.
Longmire visits his mentor, the former sheriff Lucian Connally at least one a week at the local nursing home. This time, Mari Baroja, a resident of the home was found dead. Lucian is certain that she has been murdered and convinces Longmire to ask for an autopsy. To his astonishment, Longmire discovers that Mari Baroja and sheriff Connally eloped and were briefly married in their youth and that Mari’s family had it annulled. Lucian got beaten up for that and Mari was married off to Charlie Nurburn. The marriage was unhappy and Nurburn suddenly disappeared and nobody ever heard from him. Did he start a new life somewhere else? Longmire realizes that Lucian and Mari had kept in touch all their lives, meeting up once a week in Durant.
Who would want Mari dead? Longmire investigates her death that becomes more and more personal because of his relationship with Lucian.
Johnson embarks the reader on an investigation that manages to mix a longlasting love relationship, several murders, a trip in to the past and a glimpse into Wyoming’s present with the exploitation of shale gas that turns farmers into wealthy people. At the same time, we still follow Longmire’s personal life. His daughter comes to visit from Philadelphia, his love life is in shambles and he can count on his best friend Henry Standing Bear to look after him. We learn more about Wyoming’s history and the presence of a Basque community. I had never heard of a Basque immigration to the USA, so I looked into a bit into it.
This is exactly why Johnson’s novels work for me. He has an incredible sense of place, he brings Wyoming to you. He draws charming and catching characters who are flawed but not too much. He creates an intricate plot that remains plausible and keeps you wondering what will be next. The pace of the novel suits the atmosphere. It’s rather slow to accommodate the Wyoming winter –you can’t drive fast when the roads are covered with ice and snow– and the local ways. The place is rather isolated, you just learn to be patient if you want something that’s not available locally. It was a pleasure to be back to Durant, a small town in the Absaroka County, Wyoming. Despite the freezing temperatures in this novel set around Thanksgiving in a cold climate, the novel is warm. And it all comes from the characters’ acceptance of other people’s flaws and quirks. Longmire isn’t judgmental and he sees a person’s humanity before anything else. That makes him a likeable character.
Craig Johnson will be present at Quais du Polar at the beginning of April. I hope I’ll have the opportunity to talk to him. I will read the next volume of Longmire’s adventures.
Tout le monde te haïra by Alexis Aubenque. (2015) Not available in English. The title means Eveybody Will Hate You.
This is my first review of a book from my Quais du Polar TBR. Alexis Aubenque is a French crime fiction writer and Tout the monde te haïra (Everybody Will Hate You) is the first instalment of a series featuring the former-cop-now-PI Nimrod Russel and his former-partner-but-still-cop Tracy Bradshaw. Aubenque has already written twelve books and his trilogy River Falls won the Prix du Polar 2009 in Cognac. (Yes, that’s where the cognac is made and they have a crime fiction festival.) None of them are available in English.
In Tout le monde te haïra, we are in the fictional town of White Forest, Alaska. Alice Lewis arrives to the quaint city on a cruise boat. She’s not here on holiday but she’s looking for her stepsister who disappeared on her. Laura Barnes doesn’t respond to Alice’s texts and phone calls and even though they only got to know each other a few months before, Alice thinks something’s wrong. She accidentally bumps into Nimrod Russel who decides to help her. Everybody thinks that Laura left her husband to elope with her lover but Alice isn’t convinced. Laura is a journalist and she was writing articles about a shipwreck that happened in the 1920s. The boat was discovered a few months before, thanks to global warming and thawing ice floe.
Meanwhile, Tracy Bradshaw is sent on a crime scene where Sullivan Kruger was savagely murdered. He was found in a barn, hung and eviscerated with a hakapik, an Inuit weapon used to kill seals. Tracy soon discovers that he had disputable sex habits and wonders if it has anything to do with the murder.
Follows a fast paced story –everything happens within four days—that kept me interested enough to read it until the end. The plot is a bit farfetched at times but the characters held my attention, even if they’re a bit clichéd sometimes.
Nimrod Russel is a lone PI with troubled past who was kicked out of the police force because he did what he thought was right, even if it went against the establishment. He has an unconventional relationship with a bar owner named Holly. Tracy Bradshaw –God, with that name, I kept expecting her to fawn over some Jimmy Choo shoes—is more of the 2.1-kids-and-white-picket-fence type. She has a new partner in the police but is still in contact with Nimrod.
So far, so good.
I was worried about the Alaska setting and I was right to be. Something’s lacking in the Alaskan atmosphere. The climate is not right and the characters don’t behave accordingly. There’s a huge gap between Johnson’s believable rendition of Wyoming winters and Aubenque’s Alaskan December. Johnson lives in Wyoming and speaks from experience while Aubenque lives in France, as far as I know. Where the temperatures under -10°C are a rarity. So, it’s difficult to create characters who actually behave like they’re facing a winter in a polar climate. In other words, the setting which is key to the plot felt off compared to American writers like Jim Harrison. I hope I’ll have the opportunity to ask Alexis Aubenque why he chooses to write novels set in the USA. (The others are in the Rockies and in Seattle)
It also took me a few pages to get accustomed to the style of the book. It can be compared to James Patterson or Dan Brown. It’s not literary enough for me but I’d recommend it to foreigners who are learning French. It’s a page turner, it’s easy to read, grammatically correct, with no slang, short sentences and everyday life vocabulary. Perfect to improve in a language.
PS: This is not a translation tragedy.
Which book would you like to see re-written by your favourite writer?
I’m going to answer a bit differently. I wish Philip Roth wrote the sequel to White Dog by Romain Gary. It would be a heck of a book.
What release do you wait impatiently?
New translations of classic Noir like Chandler, Himes…The old translations are incomplete, full of outdated slang and they really don’t do justice to the original. I’ve written about this here.
If you had a less-than-15-words sentence to say to your favourite writer, what would be?
If Romain Gary were alive and in front of me, I’d say “You changed my life”.
To what places described in a book would you like to go?
Almost all the books I love make me want to visit the places they describe unless they’re awful places, like a concentration camp, a hellish jungle or that village in Herta Müller’s book. Well you get the drift. Yes, I’ve been to places solely or partly because of books. Budapest. London. Vienna. Dublin. New York and other places in the USA. To Proust’s Cabourg. To Hardy’s Dorchester. To Shakespeare’s Elsinor. I want to go to the Lake District. To Stratford-Upon-Avon. To Cornwall. To the Hamptons. To Jim Harrison’s Michigan and Upper Peninsula. To Craig Johnson’s Wyoming. To Didion’s Sacramento. To Boston. To New Orleans. I want to go to Awad’s Lebanon. To Louise Penny’s Québec. To Cicero’s Sicily. To Mahfouz’s Cairo. To Moscow and St Petersburg. To Gary’s Vilnius. And to Melbourne to meet Lisa…
The list is endless due to my bottomless curiosity. Some of these visits are filed under the category Literary Escapades.
Please describe your literary paradise.
It would be a world where I have Hermione’s wonderful clock that allows you to relive your day. First I’d go to work and take care of my family. Then I’d rewind the clock and start by reading and blogging day. This second day would be spent in my fantastic library in a Haussmanian appartment with high ceilings, wooden floors and mouldings. Bookshelfs everywhere, a ladder to get the books on the top shelves. A big fire place, comfortable armchairs and a samovar. *swoon*
Then I’m supposed to tag three other bloggers. Instead of doing that, I’ll point out to Bookmaniac a blogger with similar tastes, Tony from Tony’s Reading List and that would be for his love of Japanese literature.