divisive book club rorschach test
Boulder by Eva Baltasar is 5 x 8 x 0.2 inches & 112 pages and it tears the discussion apart.
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It’s happened a few times when I’m talking to someone about a book, that my interpretation is so foreign from the interpretation of the person I’m talking to that I wonder: did we read the same book? And sometimes, I know we read the same book and some people are just wrong!!
Several months ago, my beloved Philly Queer Book Club read Eva Baltasar’s Boulder (translated by Julia Sanches) and it was a bare-knuckle brawl of minds. The discussion was mainly fixated on the personalities of the two central characters: a listless cook nicknamed Boulder and her assertive partner Samsa. The rehashing of the Samsa-Boulder dynamic was as heated as people gossiping about an actual division in a friend group. It was thrilling! People brought out their baggage! It felt like the ghost of every ex was in the room! People took the heat to the bar after, gossiping about which position people took as if it reflected their souls, which it did.
Not that I’m so crass as to ever rank books, but Boulder was one of the best books I’ve read in the past several years. I think one of the reasons Boulder is so incredible is because of its precision, delivered to English readers by Julia Sanches’ translation— and its this precision that allowed for such wildly different perspectives. These characters were fully drawn they had shadows and everyone saw a different angle of them.
Also, I read this book when I was (to quote the line below) visibly pregnant as “an ancient witch.” I can’t say I disagree with this:
Also also: the third novel in Baltasar’s loose novel triptych from Baltasar is out this August! Mammoth!
Welcome to a new section called MIXED BAG!! about other books or music or snacks or people or jaunts that I love. Or don’t like at all!! It’s a MIXED BAG.
I’m just finishing Danzy Senna’s Colored Television & I’m tickled by something on almost every page. It’s biting and exhausted and so funny.
My music consumption has been hijacked by a baby (Baby Keresey), who’s extremely thrilled to witness the arm-dance portions of “Apple” and “HOT TO GO”. I play them on repeat when I’m cooking and I have him in the bouncer, so I can spin around and do the choreo and have the rest of the song to chop and stir. And I feel lucky to be held hostage to these songs! Stockholm syndrome city! Also the baby’s learning the mode of “anticipation” which is cool.
On the subject of cooking, I have been using a handheld crappy milk frother I got for free (like this) to mix salad dressings. Do you want to take the fast lane to emulsification? I’m so glad, it’s very nice.