Det har på många sätt varit en tuff vecka och bloggandet har fått stå tillbaka för annat. Nu börjar ändå söndagslugnet infinna sig och jag tänkte det kunde vara kul att vara med i
En smakebit på söndag. Det är Mari på
Flukten fra virkeligheten som ordnar och varje söndag kan man kika in hos henne och få tips på böcker som olika bokbloggare för tillfället läser.
Min smakbit kommer från den helt underbara
Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit av Jeanette Winterson. Det är berättelsen om flickan Jeanette som adopteras och växer upp i ett strikt religiöst hem i en liten stad i England. Jag har läst en bra bit in i boken men väljer ändå att ge er romanens inledning, mycket för att författaren redan från början sätter tonen med sin briljanta och lite ironiska stil (ja, jag är ett stort fan av Winterson).
Så här inleds romanen:
"Like most people I lived for a long time with my mother and father. My father liked to watch the wrestling, my mother liked to wrestle; it didn't matter what. She was in the white corner and that was that.
She hung out the largest sheets on the windiest days. She
wanted the Mormons to knock on the door. At election time in a Labour mill town she put a picture of the Conservative candidate in the window.
She had never heard of mixed feelings. There were friends and there were enemies.
Enemies were: The Devil (in his many forms)
Next Door
Sex (in its many forms)
Slugs
Friends were: God
Our dog
Auntie Madge
The Novels of Charlotte Brontë
Slug pellets
and me, at first, I had been brought in to join her in a tag match against the Rest of the World. She had a mysterious attitude towards the begetting of children; it wasn't that she couldn't do it, more that she didn't want to do it. She was very bitter about the Virgin Mary getting there first. So she did the next best thing and arranged for a foundling. That was me."
