Tan Twan Eng, The Garden of Evening Mists
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I tried not to think about it as I went about my days, and mostly I succeeded. But occasionally the memories still found their way in, through a sound I heard, a word someone uttered, or a smell I caught in the street.
—Tan Twan Eng, from The Garden of Evening Mists (Myrmidon, 2011)
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Between us lay this great, heavy silence, accreting over the years, layer upon layer, hardening like a coral reef, except a coral reef was a living thing, wasn't it?
The House of Doors, Tan Twan Eng
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just when im finally over naval aviator boys... went and read The Garden of Evening Mist and became obsessed with the kamikaze pilot slash sad historians mutually in love with his married flight instructor
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“ 'Where does a story begin, Willie? I asked.
For a while he did not say anything.
Then he shifted in his chair. 'Where does a wave on the ocean begin? he said.
Where does it form a welt on the skin of the sea, to swell and expand and rush towards shore?' ”
— Tan Twan Eng, The House of Doors
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He plucked a bright green shoot from a bush, rolled it between his fingers under his nose and gave it to the high commissioner’s wife.
“These evolved from plants first discovered in the eastern Himalayas. An age before Christ was born, a Chinese emperor already knew about them. He called it the froth of the liquid jade.”
“The emperor who discovered tea after some leaves dropped into a pot of water he was boiling?” Aldrich said. “That’s just a myth.”
“Well, I believe it,” Magnus retorted. “What other beverage has been drunk in so many different forms, by so many various races, over two thousand years?
Tibetans, Mongolians and the tribes of the Central Asian steppes; the Siamese and the Burmese; the Chinese and the Japanese; the Indians and, finally, us Europeans.” He paused, lost in his dream of tea. “It’s been drunk by everyone, from thieves and beggars to writers and poets; from farmers, soldiers and painters to generals and emperors. And if you enter any temple and look at the offerings on the altars, you’ll see that even the gods drink tea.”
– Tan Twan Eng, The Garden of Evening Mists
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The House of Doors: A Novel
By Tan Twan Eng.
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Books Read in September:
1). If I Survive You (Jonathan Escoffery)
2). The House of Doors (Tan Twan Eng)
3). Lifescapes: A Biographer’s Search for the Soul (Ann Wroe)
4). So Late in the Day (Claire Keegan)
5). Madame Bovary (Gustave Flaubert, trans. Lydia Davis)
6). Stay with Me (Ayọ̀bámi Adébáyọ̀)
7). A Spell of Good Things (Ayọ̀bámi Adébáyọ̀)
8). All the Little Bird-Hearts (Viktoria Lloyd-Barlow)
9). Prophet Song (Paul Lynch)
10). The Bee Sting (Paul Murray)
11). In Ascension (Martin MacInnes)
12). On Not Being Someone Else: Tales of Our Unled Lives (Andrew H. Miller)
13). The Wren, The Wren (Anne Enright)
14). The Nearest Thing to Life (James Wood)
15). The Fraud (Zadie Smith)
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Books!
My babies are heeerrrreee!
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Hattie is one of the readers of 'The House of Doors' by Tan Twan Eng on BBC Radio 4 this week and next, but all episodes are already available on BBC Sounds.
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Memories I had locked away have begun to break free, like shards of ice fracturing off an arctic shelf. In sleep, these broken floes drift towards the morning light of remembrance.
Tan Twan Eng, from The Garden of Evening Mists (Myrmidon, 2011)
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Mine through the magic of pre-order!
Even if I hadn't loved Tan's The Garden of Evening Mists (and I did), a film-noirish historical novel incorporating the case that The Letter was based on and including W. Somerset Maugham as a character would go on my must-read list.
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