With all The Elegance of a Hedgehog.

When I was in grade ten my history teacher told me I "wrote like a gorilla."  He even put it on my interim report card.  While it seems harsh, it was true.  I have always worked at writing--editing carefully (okay, not so much on the blog) and really forcing myself to take a detailed look at grammatical rules.  I'm still fuzzy on some things (like split infinitives) and ever mindful of number agreement (so much easier to use 'them' when he/she is the right choice) but more or less, I have gotten over my gorilla-like tendencies.  Even by the end of grade 10, great strides had been made.

So when someone loves grammar or is very aware of the rules, I'm a bit in awe.  After all, I am usually doing my best to keep my head above grammatical water, let alone be able to notice grammatical flaws in public places.  I can edit and edit and edit but I don't usually choose to edit my daily surroundings.  In my experience, being too critical always ends badly. 

Grammar, and all of it foibles, plays a central role in The Elegance of the Hedgehog (I really, really love the title).  Two characters tell their own quest for truth, meaning and beauty while facing the day-to-day limitations of life and culture in modern day Paris.  A little dense, yes.  A good read, certainly.  I openly admit to skimming sections that are waxing philosophical on art and the theory of art.  I much preferred the narrative elements to the philosophical, metaphorical musings.  But whenever the author was about to lose me because we had droned on about art long enough, the story reappeared and drew me in again. 

To summarize: if lofty language and academic prose aren't your thing then this book is not for you.  However, if you are willing to read with a dictionary close at bay (another argument for e-readers), this book is a sweet read with a touching finish.  And you will completely understand why such a a title would ever be given to a book. 

Next up: a recommendation The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and Six More (Roald Dahl) and The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie (Alan Bradley)