Look, here's what Abbott nails in this one: "I have to do it, raise her, protect her. And no one ever tells you what it means. To hurl your kid into this world. And no one ever warns you about the real dangers."
Started the year determined to read more. This book delivered. Abbott writes about panic, teenage girls, and how fear spreads like wildfire through a community. It's visceral. It's uncomfortable. It works.
"L'écriture était bien le produit d'un autre moi, un produit précisément destiné à me faire sortir de l'état où je me trouvais, quand bien même il consistait à raconter cet état."
I wasn't sure I wanted to read this. Everyone was talking about it. Sometimes that's reason enough to avoid a book. But Lançon survived Charlie Hebdo, and he wrote about the aftermath—the reconstruction, the pain, the slow return to something resembling life. It's not easy. It shouldn't be.
Every year I do this: a portrait made from book titles I read in 2018. It's a game, sure, but it tells you something.
Describe yourself: La fille qui brûle
How do you feel? Swing time
Where do you live? Le ministère du bonheur suprême
Books become mirrors. Or maybe weapons. Depends on the day.