Author Umberto Eco has passed away. He was one of my favourite writers, and two of his books: Foucault's Pendulum, and The Name of the Rose, are imprinted in my brain because I've read them so many times. His books were complex, multi-layered, beautiful, sometimes bewildering, but usually mesmerizing creations. The first book I read by… Continue reading Farewell, Umberto Eco
My copy of 'Foucault's Pendulum' is the Swedish translation from 1989 in hardcover, and I'm not sure how many times I've read it. Ten? Twelve? Something like that. As you can see from the worn slipcover, it's been put through the wringer. It's traveled with me through Europe, and from Europe to Canada, and once here, it's… Continue reading This old book – FOUCAULT’S PENDULUM, by Umberto Eco
This paperback copy of The Name of the Rose was given to me in 1985 when I was a mere teenager, visiting the Greek island of Corfu with my best friend. We were doing the backpacking, inter-rail thing and had come down by train through Yugoslavia (yes, it still existed), had spent some time in Athens… Continue reading This old book: Umberto Eco’s “The Name of the Rose”
There's a lot of truth in this quote by one of my favourite authors: Umberto Eco. Try as you might, a translated text will never equal the original. You can come close to conveying the meaning and feeling, but you can never capture it completely. And yet, it's wonderful to try.
I love it when I read a new book that pulls me in and doesn't let go. It happened to me when I first read Bernard Cornwell's books about King Arthur: The Winter King, Enemy of God, and Excalibur. (They're a truly original take on Merlin, magic, Lancelot and all that jazz. A book that… Continue reading My favourite books to read again and again and again