The Motion of the Body Through Space by Lionel Shriver

My husband has recently taken up ‘jogging’ again. I use inverted commas because by his own definition, jogging is more like a ‘shuffle’. And I had to giggle when Strava automatically named one of his jogging sessions ‘Afternoon Walk’. Regardless of whether it’s a walk, a shuffle, or a jog, his return to exercise has been absolutely excruciating for me – all the groaning about sore muscles, various injuries, the very fact that he has downloaded Strava… it reminds me of the depths of our middle-aged, middle-classness. Ugh.

Lionel Shriver’s most recent novel, The Motion of the Body Through Space, was a roller-coaster – I was laughing hysterically one minute (with husband saying, ‘What’s so funny?’)

…he was bracing both hands against a wall and elongating a calf muscle. The whole ritual screamed of the internet.

And shuddering in grim recognition the next –

…Remington was actually upright, albeit draped over two chairs at the dining table, hands dripping from his wrists in entitled fatigue. Continue reading

I’m waiting for… 2020 edition

Proving that I don’t actually care about my never-really-shrinking-TBR-list is this list of new releases that are on my radar for 2020.

There’s nothing new on my list (other bloggers have posted curated lists of 2020 releases and there are loads of comprehensive lists floating around, such as SMH) – I’m posting it simply to have a record of books to follow-up during the year.

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Mrs Fletcher by Tom Perrotta

Without bringing up the whole Lionel Shriver debate again (and Bill has the best summary of that), I fear Tom Perrotta was writing about stuff that he probably should have left alone in his latest novel, Mrs Fletcher.

In brief, it’s the story of Eve Fletcher, divorced, mother to Brendan and director of a seniors centre. Note that Brendan is a sexist, homophobic jock, who has no intention of changing his party-hard ways as he begins college. Continue reading

My Best Books for 2016


A ‘classic’ was defined by Italian author Italo Calvino as “…a book that’s never finished saying what it has to say.”

Now, I’m not claiming that the books I truly loved this year are ‘classics’, however, I’m borrowing Calvino’s definition to guide my list of top picks for 2016. This year, I’m paying less attention to five-star ratings and more attention to the books that are still speaking to me. Continue reading

Here I Am by Jonathan Safran Foer


There’s a lot going on in Jonathan Safran Foer’s Here I Am – an earthquake followed by a war in the Middle East; the death of a family patriarch; an unwanted bar mitzvah; a crumbling marriage. But through all this ‘busyness’, you quickly understand that Here I Am is Foer’s ode to family and his Jewish faith.

“Parents don’t have the luxury of being reasonable, not any more than a religious person does. What can make religious people and parents so utterly insufferable is also what makes religion and parenthood so utterly beautiful: the all-or-nothing wager. The faith.”

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