Our Hero Ain't Nothing But a French Toast
The most memorable meal can tell a thing or two about a book. You can bet your French toast, along with omelet and muffin. An ideal breakfast, but an author can think of something else. And another one. It's no surprise that readers want more... and more.
Most readers won't know a prime cut, as an author's description of a meal can be a page at the least. It's OK, as only a few can detect it. How about a literary gourmandise? If you're hungry, then this is the best time to take a look at some delectable meals. Let's have a bite:
The Wind in the Willows (1908) by Kenneth Grahame. The Scot didn't get a chance to relish a good meal, as he had a troubled life. (Alcoholic father, among many other things.) Industrialization would transform Edinburgh, which the author didn't like at all. He yearned for the village in Cookham, Berkshire, believing the life in the countryside was better than a dreary existence in the city. This children's novel, about domesticated animals in the province, described the grassy field as paradise. “A yard of long French bread, a sausage out of which the garlic sang, some cheese which lay down and cried, and a long-necked straw-covered flask wherein lay bottled sunshine shed and garnered on far Southern slopes,†said the narrator. What could be better than a picnic?
The Leopard (1958) by Giuseppe Di Lampedusa. One chapter featured a rum jelly, which was the favorite dessert of Don Frabizio Corbera. "It was rather threatening at first sight, shaped like a tower with bastions and battlements and smooth slippery walls impossible to scale, garrisoned by red and green cherries and pistachio nuts,†wrote the Sicilian author. The description would allude to the members of the nobility who ruled Sicily for centuries. But there were happenings beyond their control. Change was about to come to the island, which would remind the prince of mortality and decay. Readers would be reminded of jelly. (Sugar prevents bacterial growth, but not molds.) The moral of the chapter would be to eat it while it looked good.
Hannibal (1999) by Thomas Harris. The native of Jackson, Tennessee based Hannibal Lecter from a real-life physician from Monterrey, Mexico, who murdered his lover and mutilated his body. The book saw Paul Krendler, a corrupt agent from the Justice Department, in Lecter's hands. His prefrontal cortex was “infused with rose water, firmed with lemon juice, lightly dusted with flower, and delicately fried.†Doctor Lecter was a cannibalistic serial killer. (Lecter witnessed the murder and cannibalism of his sister by the Hiwis during World War II. It traumatized him, but he grew up into a brilliant forensic psychiatrist.) Readers were relieved that this was the final narrative, but Harris had a prequel in the works. They would lose their hunger.
