Madame Bovary

Madame Bovary, by Gustav Flaubert

Poor Emma. So bored,
Except for sex and shopping,
While the bills mount up.

I read Madame Bovary for the first time this year. It was an odd experience.  Instead of the tragedy fans of the novel that led me to expect, I got cool observation of materialistic stupidity. Telling reading in a 'credit crunch'.

And what a difference 150 years make.  In 1856 Emma Bovary's search for self-fulfilment in men and pretty clothes made her a dupe for the loansharks and a suicide.

Now she'd be Carrie Bradshaw.  

Is reading the new snacking?

You'd think so if you went to Borders on Oxford Street.

Thousands of books, and not one of them was Anna Karenina.  One copy of Crime and Punishment and the Penguin classics looked like they'd been put through the Shredder.

What's with the new Penguin Poular Classics cover design anyway?  Chartreuse was last year's colour.

Anyhow, irritation can be inspirational.  If we can only speak in soundbites, why can't books do it too?  Especially the big, scary ones people claim they're too busy and tired to read, even if there's always time for shredding your nerves on X-Factor.  And small can be beautiful.  The haiku is just as beautiful a form as the epic.

So we're smashing the two together in this blog.  The great classics of world literature turned into haikus.  Not necessarily to tell their stories (War and Peace in 17 syllables anyone?) but more to evoke something of their spirit.  The bits that might actually make you want to read them.

See what you think...