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sna

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  1. I would suggest books by Ma Jian (The noodle maker, Red Dust); Ha Jin (Waiting; under the red flag; the bridegroom); Dai Sijie (Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress; Mr. Muo's Travelling Couch) If you want to go further back in time, translations of some of the older classics - Journey to the West, Dreams of the Red Chamber, Romance of the Theee Kingdoms Or a good translation of Tang poetry (Li Bai; Du Fu) All the best, and 加油!
  2. I appreciate the replies. Also recognize that this is a bit of a futile quest. The book was set in london, and I guess in the middle of the 20th century. I would imagine it was published around that time. But this is WOEFULLY scant information, so I won't trouble people with this question any longer. What I promise to do is report back if I ever find it - am going to go through my mothers and my aunts bookshelves next time I am back - though i suspect it is now with a 'friend' (I have a different name for people with convenient memories who 'borrow' books!) or at a second hand bookstore somewhere! Thank you everyone!
  3. Thanks Janet. No I don't think somehow that it was a Wodehouse !
  4. I remember a blue bound book from twenty years ago. The story was pretty formulaic. A 'silly romance'. The writing was not extraordinary. But for some reason, some passages were haunting, the intensity at the end surprising. But I can't remember too much of the story, the title of the book, or the names of the characters. But I want to. Perhaps to see if it has the same effect on me now! Here's what i remember of the plot The lead female character (Bianca? Something with B) is a writer. She is well off, but not terribly happy in her marriage. Her husband is either unwell, or physically challenged in some way, or much older than her. A book critic has savaged one of her books, partly because he thinks that she is a spoilt rich writer whose phony book (he doesn't think she could have actually lived out the scenario in her book) and connections have ensured her success at the cost of some struggling poor writer who has a more genuinely lived experience. The writer and the critic meet, and after a rough start get closer to each other. Somewhere in the book there is the line 'Like the clown in figaro, I laugh, that I may not weep.'. Somewhere else, when the writer (why do I think she is called Bianca?) gives the critic a lift, the chauffeur tucks a blanket over them in the back seat of the car, and the critic thinks to himself 'we might as well be in bed'. Can anyone help? I have tried very hard to remember the title, the author, more of the plot, or alternatively to get the whole thing out of my mind, but have failed in all of the above! Very grateful for any leads on this!! Sidd
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