From Ritual To Romance
I raced to finish the Penguin collection of Balzac short stories last night. It's due back at the library today and I'd feel I'd suffered some sort of moral defeat if I had to renew it. Don't ask me why. It's compulsions like this that make life interesting.
It's like how I have to eat my breakfast croissant off the same flowery-patterned plate every morning. There's only one plate like it in our collection and I've reserved it for my especial use. I've got a similar thing going with mugs. Ailz says it's because I'm selfish and won't share. I think it's got more to do with ritual.
Anyway, as a result of last night's sprint I've got three more stories to blog.
La Messe d'Athee: People are full of surprises. The austere, atheist surgeon attends mass at St Sulplice four times a year. Horace Bianchon sets out to discover why.
Facino Cane: Cane is a blind musician who once- so he says- escaped from a Venetian prison- just like Casanova. There's a part of Balzac that wants to be Dumas.
Pierre Grassou: An even-handed portrait of a very bad painter who also happens to be a thoroughly nice bloke.
22 down, 69 to go...
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Everyone ought to have their own personal mug- preferably handthrown and with their name painted on the side. :)
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