Hurricanes and Hurricane Lamps

Has anyone started yet?

I read the first sentence this morning, as a token nod to the official start date, but it may not be until the end of the week before I start in earnest. I had a productive weekend's reading in preparation. I finished Dune which I had been reading last week - partly because it features on a list of significant 20th Century novels that I have been working through, and partly on Mr Garrood's recommendation - still, wasn't that impressed I have to say. I haven't read any Sci-Fi since my teenage years and I remember why now - cardboard cut-out characters, linear plots and contrived situations, all wrapped it in a handy mythology which allows the author to get away with pretty much any kind of nonsense that he wants to. I took particular exception to the irritating asides, where one "hears" what a character is thinking... per-lease... don't insult my intelligence Mr Herbert.

On the other hand, I re-read Julian Barnes' superb collection of Guardian columns, The Pedant in the Kitchen, having given it to Will's wife for her birthday last week. It's lost none of it's sarcastic, anti-faddist charm, despite being easily dated to the early 2000s post-River Cafe/Jamie cookery book boom. For fans of Barnes, it is clear that he is every bit the cantankerous old sod that many of his most-lovable protagonists are. Plus, it is short.

Before hitting The Dance later this week, I am reading Stephen Smith's book on Cuba, The Land of Miracles (a semi-ironic title), which is so far excellent. I want to polish it off before my trip to the Gustav-swept isle next Sunday. Powell is top of a list of about 8 books being taken to Havana if not finished before, which also includes the appropriate Greene and Hemingway. I shall blog on my return.