Boring Books

I had to give up on The Soldiers Wife, it seemed to prattle on and on about nothing and there was no real storyline. I was listening to my VRS while at work doing some boring and mundane filing so trawled through the 35 or so books I have on my machine and found Eugenia.


This is the story of a woman who lived most of her life as a man. Born in Italy, but brought up in New Zealand, she worked at physical male occupations until she was discovered to be a woman while working on a ship. Raped by the captain, she later gave birth to his daughter, yet she continued the subterfuge by marrying twice and living a full, yet clandestine, sex life. I have reached her second marriage, an accident took her/his first wife but the fear of being found out meant Eugenia covered up the death and burnt the body. As his life is unravelling the police are about to become involved. A wonderful and exciting read. Certainly a lifestyle which would not happen today given our consideration of people brought up in the wrong gender assignment.

I am continuing with Piano Lessons, an interesting yet not gripping book, just a lovely memoir of music. It has encouraged me to watch some You Tube videos of Anna Goldsworthy playing the piano, and I have to confess I am tempted to buy her next book about motherhood for my kindle. You Tube is a wonderful place to attend a concert without buying the ticket, yet without the atmosphere. Lately I have also watched a Maltese opera singer called Joseph Callega and the wonderful Scottish violinist Nicola Benedetti.

Blogs are at the forefront of discussion here in New Zealand following the release yesterday of a book  called Dirty Politics. Written by Nicky Hager, a very unusual investigative journalist I have met, it is causing huge divides among the NZ community as we proceed towards an election in several weeks. I have read his other books and note they fade into obscurity when someone discovers he has not researched all his information correctly. If our ruling National party has been complicit with the Whale Oil blog it will put a very different focus on the election.

   

Manchester, where my father was born, a city which I never got the opportunity to explore, this is now the destination of newly found relatives. I may go back again but would not alert family to my visit, they seemed so reluctant to accept me properly, to this day I think they were trying to hide those skeletons in the closet from me. More travel dreams.