Books: Paperbacks
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.THOUGH GORGEOUS in appearance, this tempting tome on "the love of food and the food of love" is a limp disappointment. Like many novelists, Allende labours under the delusion that everything about herself is of surpassing interest. At the start, we're treated to gushing tributes to her mother, her collaborator and even her agent. But most of this self- regarding work is devoted to Allende. She tells us more then we want to know about her sex life: "I like a raw egg served on my lover's navel, with chopped onion, pepper, salt, lemon and a drop of Tabasco."
Though she includes long lists of supposed aphrodisiacs, Allende's comments are rarely informative. The entry on oysters ("the queens of aphrodisiac cuisine") is taken up with a long digression on Napoleon's sister, who was fed these bivalves by her black lover for breakfast. On kirsch, she is plain wrong. She describes it as "much in vogue for lending a bouquet to champagne or white wine... the aphrodisiac power lies primarily... in the rosy colour it gives the cocktail." Kirsch is a colourless fruit brandy. I suspect that Allende is mistaking it with kir.
Her notion of aphrodisiacs is so broad that virtually every foodstuff turns out to be arousing. She even recommends bean soup, though for most people its after-effects do not encourage sexual indulgence. Though the book concludes with 100 pages of recipes, not one includes oysters. This could be because Allende insists "oysters are hell to open" (they're not). In spite of the expensive illustrations, there is neither a contents page nor an index. In short, the whole book is a turn-off. Anyone interested in the arousing or perverse aspects of consumption would be far better off seeking The Decadent Cookbook by Medlar Lucan and Durian Gray (Dedalus, pounds 8.99). CH
The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing
by Melissa Bank
Viking, pounds 9.99, 274pp
UNLIKE MOST of her colleagues, New York editorial assistant Jane Rosenal has a steady date. Archie Knox, editor, drunk and "great liver", may not be marriage material, but has a nice brownstone and bags of charm. Smart and warm-hearted, Bank's debut - an episodic narrative of interconnected stories - follows Jane as she downshifts her career, but grows into her love life. An engaging slice of Manhattan life in the Susan Minot/Amy Bloom mode.
The Artist's Widow
by Shena Mackay
Vintage, pounds 6.99, 169pp
AN OLD-fashioned comedy of manners, featuring some very contemporary characters, Mackay's new novel is set among the denizens of "sarf London". Revolving round the friends of Lyris Crane, widow of a painter, and her great-nephew, Nathan Pursey, a conceptual artist in pursuit of the Turner Prize, the novel pokes fun at the London art world and suburban yuppies. Laugh-out-loud jokes, and the kind of elegiac moments in back gardens for which Mackay is renowned.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments