Yann Martel's newest book is good, so good. So far I love it. Beatrice is a donkey, Virgil is a red howler monkey. They're taxidermy, and the taxidermist is writing a play about them. They discuss fruit, mostly pears but sometimes bananas. Secretly, I think they're both still alive and that they talk to each other for real when the shop is empty. I wonder why this kind of absurdism is so completely comfortable for me, but when the protagonist in Self changed genders without explanation, I had a hard time suspending disbelief.
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I have never liked pears. The flavour is pleasant enough; it's the gritty texture of the flesh that I do not enjoy. Like an apple with a bit of sand mixed in.
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2 comments:
You are more comfortable with this kind of absurdity than I am. Even with movies, I shun the talking animals and animation films. That said, I did read an interesting novel a couple of years ago told from the perspective of a pet dog. Against all odds, I thoroughly enjoyed it. (No -- don't remember the name of the book.)
I'm not fond of pears as a fresh fruit, but I do enjoy canned pears.
Some kinds of absurdity really appeal to me. Others bother me. Talking animals are okay by me, but I tend to anthroporphize a lot so it makes sense. I also liked the idea of taxidermy coming back to life, but it didn't work out that way.
I don't like canned pears or fresh pears. They're both too gritty.
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