Friday, November 27, 2009

Challenge 27: Secrets of a Literary Whore



Deception permeates my pores. I reek of duplicity. I am a book slut, a literary whore. I meander wantonly in the realms of trash literature. Highbrow? Never! Umberto Eco leaves me cold and wasn’t Truman Capote the King of Queens? Maeve Binchy or Janet Evanovich are more my style. Why am I telling you this? Well, so you will know of course, and it will be our little secret. Cross your heart, hope to die, be my friend for foes I fry. Oh, do not take me literally my newfound reader, I swear on the tome trollop oath it would be naught but a tart written roasting.




Yet, still you hesitate to request the object of my latent lustful desires?  Wouldn't you like to know what latest lingering letter addiction my wanton, waning favours have fallen upon? Yes? So, what do you offer the book slut in return? Will you feed my craving for comments if I tear down my walls of self containment and bestow to you a sliver of my tawdry tastes? Throw you a measly morsel from my overladen table of tarty treatises dripping with cheap, dirty thrills? Would you be satisfied with this? And honour the promise to feed my need for annotation gratification? Yes? Yes?

Sadly, I am doomed to disappoint for now I shall reveal to you my shameful secret. This slutty story harlot has taken a brazen deviation. Led astray by a word seductress once before, I have succumbed again, tantalisingly tempted by the same wench's writing wiles. 
So, I hear you ask reverently, who is this brave, brilliant author who has dragged the infamous literary whore from her tacky, tasteless trail? I give to you:



ISBN: 9780552773157
ISBN-10: 0552773158

Publisher: Transworld Publishers

Date Published: 21/04/2008

Format: Paperback Book

Pages: 592

Language: English
Book Description:
'Who died?' I said. 'Or is it a secret?' 'My mother, Vianne Rocher.' Seeking refuge and anonymity in the cobbled streets of Montmartre, Yanne and her daughters, Rosette and Annie, live peacefully, if not happily, above their little chocolate shop. Nothing unusual marks them out no red sachets hang by the door. The wind has stopped - at least for a while. Then into their lives blows Zozie de l'Alba, the lady with the lollipop shoes, and everything begins to change...But this new friendship is not what it seems. Ruthless, devious and seductive, Zozie de l'Alba has plans of her own - plans that will shake their world to pieces. And with everything she loves at stake, Yanne must face a difficult choice to flee, as she has done so many times before, or to confront her most dangerous enemy...Herself.


The book slut had been enamoured of 'Chocolat' many moons earlier, so 'The Lollipop Shoes' sequel was always going to pose another threat to her guarded existence. Word pictures again destined to draw this barefaced booklover deeply into another place, a world filled with shadows and mirrors, magic and mystery. Where one can hide from others for a little but not from yourself.

'Chocolat', was the story of Vianne Rocher and her impish daughter Anouk, blowing in on the breeze to pit religious zeal and the Church against the velvety indulgence of Chocolate. The first phrase leapt from the page to entrap:
We came in on the wind of the carnival. 
You are then held tightly clasped by her sensual creations throughout. A literary feast. Oh, how the book slut stuffed herself on that gourmet of a book.




Years pass with feverishly few drooling distractions and then came another breathtaking bound banquet. 'The Lollipop Shoes' leaps forward five years. Vianne has another daughter, Rosette, Anouk is at school and they are living in a rented chocolaterie in the Montmartre district of Paris. Vianne has learnt from painful experience to conform, blend in. The wind has stopped blowing for now.

Enter Zozie de l'Alba, a scavenger and stealer of identities and the wearer of the lollipop shoes, blowing into town on the Day of the Dead. She appears beautiful, passionate and bohemian -  all that Vianne once was, the mother Anouk mourns. Underneath the facade lies a cold and malevolent being, powerful, insatiable, greedily grabbing the life and identity Vianne has discarded. It is the age old battle of good and evil, but also the story of choices: be true to who you are, or live the life others expect.



The book slut has now bowed her head in supplication. The tarnished truth revealed. I await the judgement and wrath of my peers for this dismal disappointing debacle. I am worthy of your disdain and sit head bowed to be disciplined. At your leisure. of course.

Humbly yours.


 



















Literary Whore

4 comments:

Melissa said...

I love it.

I will join your bookslut (there's a blog called that) club.

Though I do love me some highbrow....

Matthew Reilly rocks my freaking world. I've waited for 26 months for his latest release (of course now that the bloody thing is here, I can't afford to buy it) with bated breath.

Maeve Binchy is another of my little secrets.

I've actually not read (or seen) Chocolat. Must do that.

Psych Babbler said...

Lol I loved your post title! :) And I reckon I'm a bookslut too *blush*

Nice post...I haven't read or see Chocolat...I actually might keep an eye out for it as well as the sequel...

Quixotic said...

Maybe we need a book sluts anonymous. Or maybe I'm a swinger, launching from high-brow, to trash, to mainstream all within the same month! LOVED your post, alluring alliteration and all! :)

livemorenow said...

love your work! I loved Chocolat but missed the fact that there was a sequel. Thanks for the heads up.