Tag: book blog

Review: The Cincinnati Tin Trunk – Richard Hopkins

Those who have been around for the long haul might remember that in my 2016 Favourites I mentioned the first book written and published by my friend Richard Hopkins – Interleaving. It’s now my pleasure to let you know that the second book in what is going to be a trilogy is out now!

“Readers are taken on a historical treasure hunt”

It’s always nice to be able to give a friend’s projects some airtime, and it’s even nicer when I really enjoyed the book. The Cincinnati Tin Trunk is like Interleaving in many ways, and totally different in others. I’ve talked before about how my relationship with historical fiction has been a bit rocky, but Richard’s books are a really great way to ease yourself into history – by literally immersing yourself in the past. Inspired by the life and work of a real nineteenth century Dutch photographic Assistant, Nicolaas Henneman, the novel follows the journey of one twenty-first century historian’s physical, literary and photographic quest to learn more. Together with Tom, his wife Libby and adult daughters, readers are taken on a historical treasure hunt across the US, Holland, France, the UK and back again.

Both a product of its time (2016 – yikes!) and a captivating exploration of early photography, nineteenth century life and migration The Cincinnati Tin Trunk can’t help but take you on a walking tour of Henneman’s life. Like Interleaving Richard drops you into London, both then and now, and guides you around the places that you might otherwise not have noticed. The book is both a form of escapism and a reminder that every story have many sides, some of which still need to be uncovered.

Despite the fact that the characters are all new in this second instalment of the trilogy, it does what all good middle trilogy books do – it leaves you pondering about the third. Once again the profits from the book are going towards charities that help homeless people in London. Both Interleaving and The Cincinnati Tin Trunk are available on Amazon in Kindle and paperback format, so check them out if you’re interested!

The book I reviewed last week (Tigerish Waters) is also giving its profits to charity – Christmas presents with a side of social justice anyone?

December 5, 2017
My 5 Favourite Potter en Français Translations PART 1

As promised in my mid-year resolution that I made in September, I have been reading Harry Potter in French for the first time lately. This afternoon, as I picked up Le Prisonnier d’Azkaban, I was excited, not just because it has been a pleasure to return to the wizarding world, but because some of the translations for names and places have been half of the entertainment. So far I’ve found it spooky how even though I’m reading these books for the first time in years and in a different language, seeing the chapter titles is enough to fill me with the same excited glee as ever. Gilderoy Lockhart, is still just as arrogantly and ironically maddening as he is in English.

Apologies to anyone who doesn’t like Harry Potter but honestly, what is wrong with you? For those who don’t speak French I’ll do my best to explain why I’m tickled. Without further ado, here are my favourite French translations from Harry Potter 1 and 2 – L’école des Sorciers and La Chambre des Secrets.

Le Choixpeau Magique

Now of course any new student at Hogwarts (or Poudlard, I should say) must be sorted into the correct house. I’ll touch upon the title of the houses in a moment, but let’s talk about the sorting process first, shall we? The infamous Sorting Hat is translated to le Choixpeau Magique, which honestly brings me an absurd amount of joy. “Choix” meaning choice, and “chapeau” meaning hat, it is an excellent squashing together of words that I fully support. It makes “Sorting Hat” suddenly seeming extraordinarily dull, for a talking hat, that is.

Touffu

Now what’s better than Hagrid having named his giant three-headed dog Fluffy? The fact that in the French version, he names it Touffu. While it pretty much just a literal translation (it sort of means “dense-y”), I think it’s extra amusing for English readers of the French version (confused yet?) because it becomes a sickly sweet name, as well as just being totally mad.

Deauclaire, Dubois, Chouvrage & Quasi-Sans-Téte

A couple of names I randomly enjoyed the very literal translations of were Penelope Clearwater to Penelope Deauclaire, Oliver Wood to Olivier Dubois and Professor Sprout to Proffesseur Chouvrage. Simple, exact translations that just sound even better in French. The other really great example is Nick Quasi-Sans-Tête. Any guesses? Nearly Headless Nick, of course!

Poufsouffle

Now Hogwarts isn’t Hogwarts in French, which does bother me slightly, but what is more fascinating is how some of the house names have been changed. Gryffindor becomes Gryffondor, Slytherin becomes Serpentard (both fair translations) but then Ravenclaw becomes Serdaigle and Hufflepuff becomes Poufsouffle. While they do literally translate to “claw of eagle” and “puffy puff”, I do however get a little mad that the translator (Jean-François Ménard) doesn’t change their first names to keep the alliteration. It’s maddening to me to have Helga Poufsouffle and Rowena Serdaigle.

Malefoy

At first I didn’t think anything of the added “e” in Malfoy, but then I’m became suspicious that it might be a philosophy thing. I assume that Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone couldn’t be translated directly because France has such a long and complicated relationship with philosophy (Beauvoir, Satre etc.). Now I’m wondering if the same tradition has anything to do with Malfoy’s name too. “Mauvais foi” (bad faith) is an existential idea conceptualised by Beauvoir and Satre, and I’m sure I’ve read it as “mal foi” somewhere too. I may be wrong, and it could just be a pronunciation aid but I like to think it’s a little cooler than that. Malfoy’s character certainly has a little mauvais foi about him, I’m not sure the “e” is necessary…

Let me know if you’ve enjoyed this blog and I’ll highlight a few more of my favourites as I continue to read the series in French.

Now read Part 2, featuring Padfoot, Prongs, Grindylows & more

November 21, 2017
Witton educates on sex without vilifying it – Review: Doing It

I first came across Hannah Witton on YouTube some years ago, 2012/13 I think. I subscribed and watched occasionally, and thought her Hormone Diaries was such a great idea. While, I confess, I haven’t followed it as avidly as I wish I had, the beginning of it was remarkably similar to my own hormone experience, in fact I must go back and continue watching to see just how similar it has been.

A week or two ago I was reading Animal (brilliant, highly recommend) by comedian Sara Pascoe when I saw Witton tweet out a video of hers featuring Animal in the thumbnail. I watched and was fascinated to find that our sex related bookshelves were quite similar. This particular video was part of the promo for Witton’s debut book Doing It – I had no idea she was writing a book! The book was out at the end of the week so I preordered it.

An Adolescent’s Guide to Sex and Sexuality

Doing It is a super refreshing guide to sex. I say ‘guide’ very loosely, a bit like the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy except it’s an Adolescent’s Guide to Sex and Sexuality. It covers everything from LGBTQ+ relationships to contraception, body confidence to consent, masturbation to sexting.

For the most part it is all written by Witton, but there are many contributive essays by guest writers. I think my favourite thing about the entire book is her repeat insistence on readers to ‘check your privilege’. It is such an important message, and Witton explains it so clearly yet eloquently that there’s no doubt about what she means. She uses her privilege to promote the voices of others, as the guest writers discuss very personal issues from situation specific perspectives. While in Doing It this is specific to LGBTQ+ and other sex specific scenarios, the mantra of ‘check your privilege’ is brilliant.

What stands out for me with Doing It is how sex positive it is. The book deals with everything one expects from a ‘let’s talk about sex’ genre of book; STIs, consent, contraceptives and the nitty gritty biology, but unlike other books of its kind it also talks about how good sex can be. Rather than just the ‘don’t have sex, you will die’ narrative young people have drilled into them (pardon the pun) Witton instead proposes: sex is great, fun and exciting, don’t do these things, try out these other things, off you go and enjoy yourself on your own or with another consenting individual(s).

It’s not patronising either, which is nice. It explains almost everything in a readable and simple tone, yet in places, such as consent and sexting, it explains the exact details of the law, so everyone can understand where the legal, not just moral, lines are – fab!

There could be more said about everything in the book (Hannah, if you write another, hit me up for a little more about menstruation?) but for the most part it’s a pretty extensive handbook on sexuality, for everyone. Plus, if there had been more detail there would have been less room for Witton’s cracking anecdotes, and no one wants that.

I can’t say I learnt a whole lot of new information, but I wish I could have read something like Doing It when I was 15/16/17. I live in some sort of weird student bubble where I don’t seem to know anyone between the ages of 1 and 18, but if I knew a teenager I would definitely give them this book.

The beauty of books like Doing It and Pascoe’s Animal is that they are brutally honest, inspiringly detailed but, most importantly, accessible. They cut the crap of scientific and legal jargon and make sexuality understandable.

Witton talks about hoping one day being able to contribute to a national curriculum for sex-ed (same, Hannah). I can’t help feeling that if Doing It became compulsory reading for all year 9s in the UK, we would see a generation develop with a far healthier attitude to their own bodies, the bodies of their peers and lovers, and a generally healthier attitude towards sex.

Top work, Witton.

4.5/5

P.S. bravo to both Witton and Pascoe for their sketches of human anatomy *leads round of applause*.

April 18, 2017