A Remarkable Read

"I remember how easily we used to talk, endlessly, making plans, deciding where we'd be in one and two and three years' time, and I don't remember mentioning this." 


"We talked about other people, saying do you remember when, and how funny was that, and I wonder what happened to."


"I didn't know what to do, there was a feeling of time running out and a loss of momentum, of opportunities wasted."


"We spent our days on the front doorstep, circling job adverts with optimistic red felt-pens, trying to make plans, talking about traveling, or moving to London, or opening a cafe, each plan sounding definite until the next morning."


"A time of easy certainty had come to an end, and most of us had lost our nerve."


"...there is too much to know and I don't know where to begin but I want to try."


The above sounds frighteningly like the transcription of recent conversations I have had with friends and family. 


In actually fact however, these quotations are taken from Jon McGregor's , If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things. I picked it up because of the title while trolling for a good read in my native tongue in a train station bookstore in Zurich in November. It is a remarkable book. It reminds me of my life in the way that Hrabal does with Hanta. It's almost frightening how familiar are McGregor's characters and how beautiful his prose. Each section feed the anticipation for the next, yet it is in truth more poetic than prosaic, so masterfully understated as to keep the audience guessing until the very end. 


In a manner borrowed from the great Vic Bobb, I give this novel a grade of A. 


I hope you read and I hope you enjoy, for at times when I tried everything, "I blocked my ears with the bedcovers, I breathed slowly and deeply, I counted to a hundred, I counted to five hundred. I gave up eventually, and put the light on, and sat up in bed to read," McGregor's work was close at hand.


But now that I've finished it, what shall I read next, dear readers?