I have recently finished reading two completely different books, each of which bore a special meaning for me.
L'envers et l'endroit by Albert Camus because of the complexity of the themes it touches and in particular the way they have been approached. So far I had only read the "Etranger" and "Journaux de voyage", despite the fact that this one had always been a reference which I knew I would get hold of whenever I felt "prepared" (some authors do require that "preparedness" on the part of the readers).
I could have copied down many of the sentences that made me ponder and yet chose to select but one extract.
"Il y a une solitude dans la pauvreté, mais une solitude qui rend son prix à chaque chose. A un certain degré de richesse, le ciel lui même et la nuit pleine d'étoiles semblent des biens naturels. Mais au bas de l'échelle, le ciel reprend tout son sens: une grace sans prix. Nuits d'été, mystères òu crépitaient des étoiles."
The second one was a fictional retelling of a well known Hollywood star's thwarted love affair with a rather legendary photographer, whose "inability" to be the romantic character she might have wanted to hanker for did touch me profoundly to the point of having me unexpectedly cry in an almost unstoppable way the moment she comes across the news of his demise in a newspaper.
"Seducing Ingrid Bergman" by Chris Greenhalgh had quite an impact on me not only because there are several similarities between Frank Capa and my own father but also because there has been another Capa character in my personal life I still "hanker" after.
"Not without reason (for he had a fierce gypsy charm as well as the scent of danger), she fell madly in love with Capa. And he was the real thing." David Thomson on Ingrid Bergman.