Sacré Bleu

Sacré Bleu by Christopher Moore.
Originally, I was entrained and amused by Moore’s works, especially his early material as he willfully crossed genres. I suspect there’s an errant fabulist still contained therein.

As his teacher Renoir had told him, ‘All women are the same; a man needs to simply find his ideal and marry her to have all the women in the world.’ (page 41)

Artifice with language and a difficult task of making slapstick out of Art History.

In the first century BC the Romans had built a temple to Mars, the god of war, on the mount, and from that point forward, you couldn’t catapult a cow at Paris without someone setting up for siege on Montmartre. (Page 76)

Myth making. Reweaving histories, intertwined with surrealistic magic. Perhaps the old title of Magical Realism still applies, dated that the taxonomy and terminology might be.

‘Blasphemy!’ said Toulouse-Lautrec. ‘It is accepted science that God himself gave the French the gift of their cuisine, and while he was downstairs, cursed the English with theirs.’ (page 182).

Then, too, it’s s fine line between erotic, sexy, and just plain dirty. While “naughty,” in some respects, it’s fun and more than hauntingly erotic.

‘Often, when an artist is tormented, a woman is involved.’ (page 194)

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