Zazie in the Metro

I was looking around on the lovely Lists of Bests website (thank you so much, Andy, for giving me access to something that sucks my life away in this manner) and I stumbled across a refence to Raymond Queneau's lovely little book, Zazie in the Metro. I have not read this book in years, and probably would not be able to track down the copy of it that I own-- I believe it has disappered into the mess that makes up the book collection at home, a sprawl that has slowly been encroaching on the whole house, with books in stacks and piles, put away in double-rows in the bookcases. I believe the only room that does not have books is my stepfather's bedroom, and that is only because he has his little bookcase built into the back hallway.

Anyway, Zazie in the Metro. This book was my first introduction to the species of flighty French girls. A delightful book, full of lovely phrasing and games with the language and simply charming characters.

And on that unsatisfactory note, I must run. More later.