Dorset, England Travel Photography Martin Worster, originally uploaded by MartinWorster.

Pebbles on a beach – Chesil Beach in Dorset on the South Coast of England…

On the second Saturday in November I stood atop Winslow Hill and imagined myself as an autumn leaf, vulnerable, light as a feather, about to be blown away into yonder.  With hurricane force winds blasting in from the sea, the whole of Bowleaze Cove was a bubbling mass of white water.  As I tried to photograph the scene, with just a fraction of zoom lens protruding, my camera bucked and weaved like a rebellious stallion while the wind and the rain took its revenge on me.

Later that day I went to worship once again at the awesome reality of Chesil Beach in a force 10 when the waves provide the thunder and the spray the lightning.  Behind me the valley was brimming with rain and hunkering down for the worst storm of the year.

Three days later and I’m strolling due south across the centre of the valley.  The dogs are hunting and quartering in front of me.  On my left the deep shadows are playing games in amongst the strip lynchets.  On my right a wondrous and idyllic tableau is formed by the White Horse and a field full of sheep.  Underfoot is sticky and soggy as the rainwater drains down from the hill.  Ahead of me the A353 snakes across the lip of the valley and I wonder when the next motorcyclist will be severely injured up there.  It happens on a fortnightly basis and what does the Highway Authority do?  Absolutely nothing of course.  Dorset County Council sits on its fat, collective, complacent backside while young people are grotesquely mutilated on dangerous roads.  It is nothing short of blatant, inexcusable negligence.

So while the valley is a cure for many of the stresses and strains of everyday life, it is not apart from them.  In fact, I make a plea to all driving south down the A353 to look left towards the sea.  Paradise Valley is far too distracting.

Up on the hill, the yellow gorse flowers are back and I’m marvelling again at the hardiness of the sheep.  When Capone, Carla and I go up there for an hour and a half we come back and spend the rest of the day in heated shelter.  Recently, we’ve had as long a spell of consistently high winds as I can remember.  I hate to think what it must be like for those sheep at 3 o’clock in the morning!

In an hurrah to the height of the pheasant season, this morning Carla demonstrated the superiority of her nose and hunting skills.

We climbed up and over the hump that sits on the northern shoulder of White Horse Hill.  Coming down the far side is a favourite place for deer but Carla hunted high and low to no avail.

Out into the main field where the stubbl;e is thick from the last crop of barley and suddenly she’s put up a hen pheasant, fluttering back up to the hump.  Then there are three breaking from cover, another back up the hump and two curling round towards me.  The third is rising, screaming, soaring as I swing right through it and see a clear 20 feet of lead before I pull the trigger.

Another is up quartering me from right to left, accelerating and rising, actually beneath me due to the lie of the land but tumbled cleanly out of the air as another pair break right and the last one falls to my second barrel.  Carla looks bright, fulfilled and chuffed to bits.

Of course no dogs, birds or people were injured in the making of this film that plays only on the ultimate high definition, widescreen inside your head.  Everything except the birds and the dog were imaginary!

Waiting for a bus to Portland last summer.

‘Anne and Henrietta, finding themselves the earliest of the party the next morning, agreed to stroll down to the sea before breakfast. They went out to the sands, to watch the flowing of the tide, which a fine south-easterly breeze was bringing in with all the grandeur which so flat a shore admitted. They praised the morning; gloried in the sea; sympathized in the delight of the fresh-feeling breeze – and were silent; till Henrietta suddenly began again, with:
‘Oh, yes!’…’
Persuasion, Jane Austen

Novel references: 2
- Ian McEwan - Chesil Beach 
- Jane Austen – Persuasion

Shower facilities: 9/10 

Self-timer photos taken: 2

Food and drinks consumed beginning with the letter C: cod and chips, coffee cake, coffee

The story: We parked up on a Haven caravan site in Weymouth. I have never been anywhere like it. It was like a caravan city, with advertising hoardings declaring ‘Tourers never die, they just go static’, it’s own Starbucks and WiFi for the site. As well, of course, as fabulous sea views and its own fish and chip shop.  We got some kind of two for one deal which meant we paid £7 for the privilege of heated shower rooms which were immaculately clean and equiped with full length mirrors and hairdryers.

Not that there was much point in using them. We woke up to torrential rain, swiftly abandoned our plan to walk to Portland Bill and drove there in Kermit instead. It was his first proper test on hills and he performed admirably, tackling them bravely in the rain, in second gear. Just running out to get a parking ticket got me soaked and then we discovered the lighthouse was closed for the season anyway. So we piled back into the campervan and drove along the coast to a little place called Abbotsbury where we found a tea room and ate cake for lunch.

We were the only customers along with the owner of a gallery from two doors up, so we got chatting. In walked a very glamorous lady who was clearly engaged in some form of relationship with the gallery owner, but, we decided, one in its earlier stages. ‘I’ve been living in Australia but I’ve come back here to get my life sorted. In more ways than one.’

Aren’t people intriguing?

It dried up a little so we got back in the van and drove first to Chesil Beach, which stretched and stretched and stretched out along into the distance, banked up at least ten metres high against the crashing sea, and then on to Lyme Regis, where CC and I walked along the top in a stiff wind with big waves crashing either side, inadvertantly nearly re-enacted Persuasion’s Louisa Musgrove’s impetuous leap from the Cobb.

‘He advised her against it, thought the jar too great; but no, he reasoned and talked in vain, she smiled and said, ‘I am determined I will’: he put out his hands; she was too precipitate by half a second, she fell on the pavement on the Lower Cobb, and was taken up lifeless!’
Persuasion, Jane Austen

Apenas un rato, quizás dos o tres horas interrumpidas por algún quehacer familiar y dominguero, una y media de la madrugada y consumí en su totalidad Chesil Beach. Piedad, compasión, ternura y una buena dosis de enfado sin saber bien a quien dirigirlo.

Por no hablar, comentar y tomar “el toro por los cuernos” cuántas cosas se perdió la pareja protagonista. Vaya, todo, se lo perdieron todo a pesar de que en algún ya casi al final de la obra uno convenga en que mejor así, lo que no interesa fuera, o aquello mismo que uno escucha mil veces (sobretodo en situación de separarse del cónyuge)  “…lo que más convenga”.

Ian Mcewan pasa a cámara lenta la crudeza de la situación iniciática de esta joven pareja, mientras a ráfagas veloces nos cuenta vida y milagros de los protagonistas y sus familias, para en apenas unas páginas finales contarnos con una brevedad pasmosa sus biografías. En apenas diez páginas todo queda hecho y dicho. Sencillamente genial.

1) Torno a casa e scopro che il mio papi mi ha preparato le mezzemaniche con gli scampi, i pinoli, la rucola e il parmigiano. Triplo gnam.

2) Mi sono accorta di aver lasciato a casa il libro che sto leggendo. Cecità di Saramago. Non sono andata in bestia perchè ne ho pronto un altro, piccino piccino, che sembra fatto apposta per essere letto in un week end. Chesil Beach di McEwan. Quello del meraviglioso “Espiazione“. Centotrentaseipagine che in un modo o nell’altro dovranno arrivare a lunedì.

3) Ho voglia di scrivere una recensione per l’eccelso “Norwegian Wood” (Tokyo Blues). L’ho pensata stanotte ed è bellina, ma non sono ispirata ora. Correte a leggerlo. E già che ci siete filate ad ascoltare l’omonima canzone dei Beatles. L’ho messa qui.

4) Finiti 30 Rock e The Office. Risate a pacchi. Sto guardando Kings (mamma mia che meraviglia che meraviglia che meraviglia) e ho messo a cuocere la seconda parte della quinta stagione di Nip/Tuck. Li seguo dalla primissima ora anche se l’ultima serie sembrava più un porno che un telefilm. Ma Sean e Chris mi mancano. E dal 10 si ricomincia con Supernatural. Evviva! Se volete avere notizie in merito al mondo telefilmico, e sapere quando i vostri Telefilm preferiti ricominciano date un occhio a www.ifighi.net. C’è tutto Compresi tanti trailer.

5) Mi sono iscritta a questo sito. In cui i film della tua vita si affrontano. E tu devi scegliere qual’è il tuo preferito. C’è un vincitore, credo. Sono stata convinta dal mio amico Riccardo (più noto alle cronache nererosagialleerosse della rete come Mist). Convinta è un parolone. Le sue iperboli entusiastiche mi hanno praticamente costretta a farlo. Fatelo tutti. So già che quando si scontreranno due dei miei colossi  il mio cuore si frantumerà.

6) Io e tre mie amiche sciroccate (wubb) abbiamo aperto un blog che vi farà ridere molto. Vi anticipo già che avremo bisogno di tutti voi per ridere di più. Stay tuned.

Chesil Beach

And it goes on, and on, and on – to point where my rain shelter (or sun canopy if the weather is right!) tries to divorce itself from me. Just as well He remembered to peg it down. After a while they get up, unhook me, roll up my rain shelter and off we go – leaving the bikes and my lovely pitch-marker/bird feeder behind – must mean their memories are really getting bad now, or that we are coming back later today.

Chesil Beach

20 miles or so through the pouring rain and we pull into a car park near Abbotsbury and they go off for a stroll along Chesil Beach, another place they are excited about visiting. They couldn’t go too far along it’s 17 miles, however, as most of it is closed to human’s between April and October due to sea-birds laying their eggs on the pebbles.

Chesil Beach

Chesil Beach

Still, they agree that it is a fantastic place and they really enjoyed lying on the pebbles in the drizzle (yes, the rain had softened to a drizzle at this point).

They could see the swannery at Abbotsbury from Chesil Beach and we went there to have a closer look at the swans, but when they saw the size of the entrance fee (£9 each) they decided that it wasn’t worth it – after all they have seen lots of swans all over the place – and so they went for a wander around the quaint village of Abbotsbury instead. Mind you, everything seems to be expensive round here – including their lunch of baked potatoes – must be where all the rich folk from Sandbanks come for a day out

Abbotsbury Swannery from Chesil Beach

On the way to Abbotsbury, He had spotted a viewpoint that gave a view right along Chesil Beach and we agreed to stop there on the way back so that He could take some snaps but no dice…it was that misty I had to get her to turn my fog lamps on.

Still raining, we called into Bridport to do some shopping before returning to Bingham Grange. Despite the rain, they seem as if they had a good day and that’s all that matters, bless ‘em.

Eccolo qui. Lo shopping che preferisco.

Quello di cui non mi stanco mai e che può farmi DAVVERO perdere la testa.

Vagando tra gli scaffali, li ho trovati e non ho potuto resistere. Nemmeno per un secondo.

Stasera inizio il mio 25 esimo libro dal 19 gennaio 2009.

Quale dei tre?

(Accetto consigli da tutti, tranne quelli provenienti dal Sig. Alberto (scherzo).

Where next? Decisions, decisions…

Catch of the day…

Chesil Beach Pebbles

1 of 8 Seashore pictures displayed at the Octagon Cafe, Poundbury, Dorchester, Dorset, 2 July – 13 August 2009.

The story behind the picture:

This was photographed on the water’s edge at Chesil Cove, Portland, Dorset. The seashore here is part of the famous shingle bank called Chesil Beach. It marks the easternmost end of this extensive geological phenomenon.  The pebbles of Chesil beach are graded in size by natural processes – they are smallest at its western end and largest at this spot. Most of the pebbles are grey flint and yellow chert but, if you look carefully, there are many colours and patterns to be found in pebbles of different geological and geographical origin.

For this picture I gathered together a few of the more attractively patterned pebbles and threw them down on the beach with the others so that the waves could wash over them. Wet pebbles are always more colourful and have a more interesting texture than dry ones.

This picture can be bought through Latent Light.

© Jessica Winder and Jessica’s Nature Blog, 2009. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material, including both text and photographs, without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jessica Winder and Jessica’s Nature Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 Photographs in this blog are copyright property of Jessica Winder with all rights reserved

We came back from Dorset yesterday. We were camping in a tent. It rained. There was a fair amount of chip-eating and body-slamming with air beds. Camping in Dorset is an Experience, yes, and probably the children loved it deep down (somewhat deeper than the place that made them say “Can we go back to London?”)  but it was not a villa in Greece, with a pool and warm air and goats tinkling in the distance. If you know what I am saying.

Ode to Dorset

Dorset, you are green and lush,

And you have some cute villages in the style of the Cotswolds,

And your pubs promise things like cream teas and apple cakes.

There is much to like.

BUT! Dorset! You are WET! You rain,

And you blow a wind that makes me shiver in my summer frocks.

To be fair, it is mid-summer,

But hardened campers know that jeans and raincoats are appropriate attire.

And you have an alarmingly high number of

Pregnant teenagers.

And too many chips on the pub menus.

Not even Hugh Fernley-Whittingstall can save you. 

Dorset – you need to sharpen up.

Yeah. Camping is kind of cold, windy, and rainy. We were camping on a farm, in a paddock. There was very little to do, once one exited the tent, other than to visit the toilet blocks or wash the dishes. Never before have I witnessed such competition as to whose turn it was to wash them. We were overlooking Chesil Beach, which gave me some literary excitement, but not much. The children were excited to be sleeping on airbeds, but soon discovered they could double-up as a)weapons; b)castle walls; and c)mini trampolines, which upset Mark who was taking the camping trip Rather Seriously. And sincerely too, I think. He wistfully remarked, during the first downpour, that “the sound of the rain on the tent roof is so relaxing, isn’t it?”. I do not think the rain + tent equation is ever really good, especially when I am pregnant and have to traverse three paddocks to get to the loos at 3am EVERY MORNING.

Glamorous? Stylish? MY ARSE.

We did have a trip to Weymouth, which of course involved chips. And some insane large seagulls who kept diving in to steal the very food off our plates. They made the thieving London pigeons look like lightweights. Here is Weymouth:

We also did the obligatory hour-long trip to the River Cottage Canteen where I ate Hugh’s mutton merguez with lentils and spiced yoghurt. That was good. As was the little farm in Abbotsbury where the children paraded goats on leads, rode ponies and worried the guinea pigs. And then the rain came.

Our camping buddies asked us “Will you camp again?” to which I replied that I would. With warm clothes, rugs, cocoa, more novels and dvds, a nanny, red wine, thermals and the promise of a remedial week in Greece. Maybe.

It was one of those warm hazy days in April – with clouds rolling down from the top of Portland, mist rising up from the salt marsh at Ferry Bridge, and the sun mostly obscured – but nothing could detract from the magnificence of the huge shingle bank known as Chesil Beach. Chesil Cove marks the easternmost end of this massive pebble ridge and is home to the largest stones to be found along its entire length. 

A substantial promenade makes it easy for people of all abilities to enjoy the view. Walking on the large pebbles of the seashore itself can be quite tiring over any distance. I guess the promenade is also a defence structure to protect from encroachment by the sea and the shingle.

Although overcast all day, the pictures in the slideshow (below) will give an idea of this spectacular place – although I found it quite difficult to do the scene justice because of its vast scale. However, in one of the photographs a cloud has cast a highlighting shadow across the ridges or terraces of the beach; you can see how high and broad they are from the size of the people walking, sitting or fishing on them.  

!!!

 Photographs in this blog are copyright property of Jessica Winder with all rights reserved

Several fishing boats were hauled up to the top of the shingle below the promenade when I visited Chesil Cove in April. Some of the fishermen had spread nets over the pebbles to dry. I was really taken by the contrasting colours of the nets and ropes over the flint and chert pebbles. I just had to photograph the patterns in the nets and ropes, and the patterns that they themselves traced on the beach. Here are a few pictures for you to look at.

The nets were spread out across the pebbles with a backdrop of the famous Chesil Beach. The shadows across the shingle from the clouds overhead threw into relief the naturally formed terraces of the shingle bank. You can just about see in the distance the small black dots of sea-anglers and walkers on the different levels of the terraces.

The fine nylon filaments of the nets themselves were pale blue.

The ropes to which the nets were attached were a woven pattern of green and black.

© Jessica Winder and Jessica’s ature Blog, 2009. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material, including both text and photographs, without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jessica Winder and Jessica’s Nature Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 Photographs in this blog are copyright property of Jessica Winder with all rights reserved

Photographs in this blog are copyright property of Jessica Winder with all rights reserved

Strandline at Chesil Cove is a bit misleading because most of the flotsam seems to have collected on the top of the Chesil Beach shingle bank nearer to the Ferry Bridge Visitor Centre than Chiswell - as you can see in the pictures above and below.

From the top of the massive pebble bank, the walker gets a bird’s eye view of this incredible geological phenomenon stretching for miles into the distance. Even the presence of the strandline astride this feature is pretty unbelievable. The waves must have been well over forty foot high to have deposited the flotsam here – and not only on the top but over the highest point to the other (road) side where it has rolled down to the base of the bank.

The shingle bank is not only high but wide. You can get an idea of the scale of the ridge from the lone figure marching into the middle distance in the top photograph.

The flotsam snakes its meandering way along the brow of the ridge. Looking down to the right you can see traffic on the road connecting Wyke Regis with Portland. The South West Coastal path runs parallel to the shingle ridge on the flat ground to its landward side.

When I set out to walk along the beach from Chesil Cove to Ferry Bridge on 23rd April, the shore was clean of any debris – although I understand that this may not be the case when winds drive the sea into the easternmost corner of the Cove. It was not until I had been walking a while that I noticed a sparse scatter of small pieces of driftwood on the top of the shingle bank about half a mile from Chesil Cove.

A bit further on, greater quantities and larger pieces of driftwood formed the strandline; this was about three quarters of a mile along the top of the Chesil Beach shingle bank from Chesil Cove. Brightly coloured synthetic objects were just making an appearance as well.

A moderate accumulation of equal quantities of organic and inorganic flotsam made up the strandline about a mile along the top of Chesil Beach shingle bank from Chesil Cove – you can still see plenty of pebbles between the rubbish. Most of the man-made rubbish seemed to be fishing rope and net together with plastic bottle tops. A fair number of lost shoes and boots had also found their way to the strandline. You can see pictures of these items of flotsam in the next two posts (23rd and 24th May, 2009).

Below, the collection of rubbish has become denser; in places you can hardly see the shingle beneath it. This was about a mile and a quarter from Chesil Cove and a quarter of a mile from the Ferry Bridge Visitor Centre.

On this occasion there was remarkably little organic debris on the strandline. There was no seaweed, no shells, no animals on that day. This would mostly be due to the extensive shingle providing an inhospitable habitat for most organisms. Interesting items do get washed up occasionally and there is a collection of these in the Visitor Centre near Ferry Bridge.

All the flotsam pictured here was removed by a band of volunteers the following weekend in the Great Dorset Beach Clean. The GDBC takes place a couple of times a year on the Jurassic Coast to keep the beaches clean for visitors and to protect the wildlife in the environment.

 Photographs in this blog are copyright property of Jessica Winder with all rights reserved

A virtual carpet of lovely pink blooms covered the shingle at the road-side base of the the Chesil Bank near Ferry Bridge a week or so ago. This was made up of hundreds of low tufts of Thrift or Sea Pink  – Armeria maritima (Mill.) Willd.  A beautiful sight.

Thrift is quite a common plant that also grows on rocky cliffs and salt marshes. It flowers in early summer and when the blooms fade papery seed heads remain for some months. The short grass-like leaves can stay green almost throughout the year.

Another fairly common flowering  plant of the British coastline is Sea Campion -Silene maritima (With.) A & D Love. This grows on shingle beaches and sometimes on cliff ledges where it produces massed white blossoms in summer. Although the shoots die back in the winter, the woody roots survive for several years and help to stabilise the shingle.

The picture below shows a tuft of Sea Campion growing in typical form on shingle a short distance from Ferry Bridge, Dorset.

 Photographs in this blog are copyright property of Jessica Winder with all rights reserved

Dry pebbles from Chesil Cove, Portland, Dorset, UK - part of the Jurassic Coast

Chesil Beach is a great natural phenomenon – a huge shingle bank extending from Chesil Cove on Portland at its eastern end to Bridport in the west. Millions of tons of pebbles but it is strictly forbidden to remove any pebbles from the beach as they are now thought to be a basically unrenewable resource.

View of the shingle bank looking west from Chesil Cove, Portland, Dorset, UK.

 It is difficult to capture in a photograph the sheer scale of this spectacular feature which extends as far as the eye can see.

At first sight, the pebbles all look more or less the same, especially when they are dry and the surfaces are dull. However, once the stones become wet, their true colour, beauty and variety is revealed. So it is well worth going right down to the water’s edge to look at them more closely.

Wet pebbles from Chesil Cove, Portland, Dorset, UK showing more colours

The pebbles of of the great Chesil Beach have been size sorted by natural processes so that the largest ones occur at the easternmost end of the shingle bank in Chesil Cove below the promenade. In the picture below you can see the size of the pebbles at this point relative to my walking pole.

Large size pebbles from Chesil Cove at the eastern end of Chesil Beach

However, a mile further on as you walk along the top of the shingle ridge from Chesil Cove to Ferry Bridge on the causeway, the size of the pebbles is considerably smaller as you can see in the picture below. By the time you get to Cogden Beach and Burton Bradstock, the pebbles on the western tail of the shingle bank are just about pea size.

Smaller size pebbles from Chesil Bank one mile east of Chesil Cove near to Ferry Bridge

Looking at the wet pebbles, the different varieties can clearly be seen. The difficult part is identifying what sort of mineral or stone gives rise to the different colours and shapes.  However, 98% of them will be either flint or chert. I have compiled a gallery (below) of a selection of the pebble types that I saw washed by the surf at Chesil Cove.

As a very rough guide to recognising the some of the various sorts of pebbles, here is a list of the possibilities for each kind of colour – but remember that there is a greater chance than 9 out of 10 that a pebble will be just flint or chert:

White – could be quartzite from Triassic pebble beds at Budleigh Salterton in Devon; white outer layer – flint; white to grey Upper Greensand Chert; or bluish white chalcedony in Upper Greensand Chert.

Yellowish or yellow-brown  - could be quartzite containing iron oxides from the Triassic pebble beds at Budleigh Salterton – and this includes strange orange patterns on a lighter background.

Slightly brownish – could be flint from Upper Cretaceous chalk with a brownish outer layer.

Medium grey – could be flint from the Upper Cretaceous chalk.

Grey to brownish – could be flint from Cretaceous chalk.

Light bluish grey – could be chert from Upper Greensand

Black – could be chert from Portland Chert Series, chert with fossils from the Portland Roach; chert from the basal Purbeck formation; or tourmalinised rocks.

Pink or blue tinted translucent or clear – could be Lower Cretaceous, Upper Greensand chert.

Reddish or purple or liver-coloured – could be quartzite from Triassic pebble beds at Budleigh Salterton in Devon; porphyry from Permian breccia of Dawlish in Devon; or red chert from Cornish Palaeozoic rocks.

Mixed colours – could be vein quartz from Cornish Palaeozoic rocks; porphyry which has a combination of crystals and matrix with white, cream, greyish brown, and pink/purple parts; or granite with coarse grains of pink or white feldspar, grey quartz and black minerals such as mica.

Fossiliferous – could be chert from Portland series with fossil shells; flints with fossil sea urchins or cavities left by fossil sponges; or silicified shelly limestone from the Purbeck Beds.

!!!

If you are keen to learn more about the pebbles of Chesil Bank, you can do no better than consult Ian West’s web pages on Chesil Beach – Pebbles.

[I thank Dr West to whose work I have referred in order to try and identify the types of pebble and make the information more accessible to the average reader of the posting - but any mistakes or misunderstandings that may appear in what I have written are mine alone].

© Jessica Winder and Jessica’s Nature Blog, 2009. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material, including both text and photographs, without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jessica Winder and Jessica’s Nature Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 Photographs in this blog are copyright property of Jessica Winder with all rights reserved

Picture by Wapster

Perched on the sea wall at Chiswell in Portland. On Winter days you can relax in front of the open fire at the The Cove House Inn and watch the stormy seas pound Chesil Beach.

1. Porque quizá pocas novelas (que yo haya leído) abordan con tal sensibilidad la tortuosa relación que puede existir entre el amor y el sexo (puede).

2. Porque Ian McEwan NUNCA es predecible, sus novelas NUNCA terminan antes de tiempo, ni dejan al lector la más lejana posibilidad de prefigurar hacia dónde te llevan, hasta que te ha dejado al final del camino con unas ganas inasibles de entender la vida. O preguntándote en este caso, con Raymond Carver: ¿De qué hablábamos cuando hablábamos de amor?

3. Porque te devuelve, aunque sea por unos minutos, la noción de que ninguna otra forma de arte puede ahondar como la literatura en la condición humana.

4. Porque el autor de Expiación, Amor perdurable, El inocente y En las nubes, entre otros libros excelentes, es uno de los mejores escritores vivos.

5. Y porque hay una escena y diálogo climático narrado con tal plasticidad y precisión que se te queda grabado como si lo hubieras visto en una película, o más hondo, como si tú mismo/misma  lo hubieras vivido.

6. Porque el placer de leer un buen libro es un acto íntimo y arcano sin par.

7. Porque hay quienes leen para entretenerse y hay quienes leen como una forma de indagar en la condición humana y en su propia vida y, además, para entretenerse. Si eres de los primeros sin la búsqueda del segundo, sigue con… ¿Coelho? ¿Dan Brown?

8. Porque Chesil Beach fue elegida por la crítica española como la mejor novela publicada en 2008, y por algo habrá sido.

9. Porque quienes amamos la literatura, la BUENA literatura, pertenecemos a un círculo muy reducido, somos sobrevivientes, y debemos comunicarnos entre nosotros las buenas lecturas y mantener viva la llama.

10. Por puro ego. Mío. Porque me da gusto imaginar que aunque probablemente no me conoces , ni yo a ti, cuando termines de leer esta novela vas a decir: “Gracias, AJ”. Y si no la lees, porque no lees novelas y así, me perdonarás esta breve intromisión en tu vida y me mandarás un correo diciéndome que te borre de una vez de mi lista de contactos. Y yo te borraré. Con todo gusto.

Picture by tricksydicksy

This is all that is left of the Moonfleet church featured in J. Meade Falkner novel, lying close to the lagoon, it suffered badly as the sea came crashing over the Chesil Bank on 24 November 1824. The nave of the old church was completely demolished. All that remains today is a tiny church, with a few gravestones in the churchyard.

Seaweed with pallet