By Veronica


Yes, scraping the barrel! I thought this tuft of grass looked quite incongruous though, with no visible source of sustenance. At the Maison des Jeunes et de la Culture for my French book group. After struggling for the first 100 or so pages, I ended up enjoying Désorientale, its title a good reflection if its contents as Iranian Kymiâ tries to adjust to being uprooted to face her enforced exile in France, and her discovery of her sexuality. Her story is broken up into fragments as her life has been, and as the memories come back to her. The stories within stories are reminiscent of the Arabian Nights, while the contemporary story set in Paris reads like contemporary autofiction. It has been translated into English, so I can recommend it to anyone interested in an inside view of Iran in the 20th century.

However, I am still left wondering why most contemporary French fiction makes so little use of dialogue ...

Covid status: To my disappointment, when I arrived a little late, of the 12 people in the room only one was wearing a mask. Luckily the only seat left was next to the window, so I opened the window and sat next to it.

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