Silk (thoughts) and Delurking

“Silk” by Alessandro Baricco is a tiny book, definitely a novella. It’s technically ninety-one pages long, but since many of the pages aren’t covered in text, I’d guess it’s no more than fifty pages of actual reading. And the writing style is quite straightforward, meaning this is an easy one-sitting story. And this is good news for all of you, since you definitely need to read it. Why? Because it’s magical.

First of all, Baricco’s style is beautiful: lush without being fussy, it draws you in from the very beginning. Here’s the opening:

Although his father had pictured for him a brilliant future in the army, Herve Joncour had ended up earning his crust in an unusual career which, by a singular piece of irony, was not unconnected with a charming side that bestowed on it a vaguely feminine intonation.
Herve Joncour bought and sold silkworms for a living.

Don’t you already want to know what happens with Herve? Anyway, the best way I can think of to describe the book’s style is that if a poem and a fable could have one night of glorious (unprotected) passion, Silkwould be the result. Baricco’s use of repetition is one of the best I’ve ever seen. And he crafts his words, his pages, his entire story, with the attention of a poet rather than a novelist. Here’s the rest of the book’s first page:

The year was 1861. Flaubert was writing Salammbo, electric light remained hypothetical, and Abraham Lincoln, beyond the Ocean, was fighting a war of which he was not to see the finish.
Herve Joncour was thirty-two.
He bought and sold.
Silkworms.

As if it wasn’t enough to have wonderful style, Baricco also manages a wonderful plot and vivid, quirky characters. There’s Helene, Joncour’s wife, who has long black hair that she never puts up and the most beautiful voice. There’s Baldabiou, Joncour’s mentor, who plays pool himself, keeping his hand behind his back to differentiate sides. There’s Madame Blanche, a highly successful owner of a draper’s shop and a brothel, who wears little blue flowers around her fingers like rings.

These characters and more are drawn together by the effect of a disease infecting silkworms that causes Joncour to travel-at first to Syria and Egypt, later as far as Japan. The result of those travels shapes Joncour’s life, and the lives of those around him, but you’ll have to read the book to see how.  And the ending is one those “OMG, I need to talk about this right away” delicious moments of reading, so you really should read it soon.  As for me, I’m in absolute awe of Alessandro Baricco, and I shall be searching out more of him quite soon.

Now for the delurking part! It’s been going around the blogosphere that it’s National Delurking Day, or Week, or whatever, and of course I’m curious about who’s reading my blog that I don’t know already, but I wasn’t going to say anthing, because I think lurking is perfecly fine. But then I read Nymeth’s post, and it tempted me too much. So, if you’d like to come out of the woodwork, consider this your invitation! Tell me your favourite author, or your favourite hot drink, or if you can listen to music while you read, or if you think there’s something inherently complementary between cats and books. ;) And of course if you have a blog, tell me so I can come visit!