The manuscripts and codices which survive from the late 15th century are often large and lavish affairs and usually conform to certain norms in terms of shape. But this curious and unusual little gem, which takes its name ‘Codex Rotundus’ from its unique shape, measures just over 9 centimeters across and is circular. Its 266 pages are bound along a spine just 3cm long, so small that three clasps are needed to help keep it closed. Thought to have been rebound in the 17th century, the original clasps which help hold the tiny codex together, were reused. As so many of the manuscripts from this period, it is a devotional text -a lavishly illuminated Book of Hours in Latin and French.
Remnants of a coat of arms, which a subsequent owner appears seems to have tried to obliterate, in the first initial ‘D’ suggests that it was created for Adolf of Cleves…
This is an incredible book of many intense stories of the process and survival of divorce. It doesn’t sound like a barrel of laughs as a concept but give it time and there’s joy, inspiration, hope, sadness, hilarity, devastation, fun and beauty.
It is an intense read, especially in the knowledge that it is all true, and as someone who has not experienced this directly (I think another reviewer has said this) an incredible window into a world that is not often written about. That intensity might be why it’s taken me so long to finish. I generally have five or so books on the go. I didn’t want to binge this, I wanted to remember each one so I took my time.
Looking forward to other publications from Fiction and Feeling.
“…this massive moment of disruption we’re in — is really a function of audiences craving new kinds of storytelling. I think we had a really nice run for 100 years of two-hour, two-dimensional storytelling, but I think over the next decade, decade-and-a-half, you’re going to see a radical shift in how stories are told.”
“All fiction is metaphor. Science fiction is metaphor. What sets it apart from older forms of fiction seems to be its use of new metaphors, drawn from certain great dominants of our contemporary life—science, all the sciences, and technology, and the relativistic and the historical outlook, among them. Space travel is one of these metaphors; so is an alternative society, an alternative biology; the future is another. The future, in fiction, is a metaphor.
A metaphor for what?
If I could have said it non-metaphorically, I would not have written all these words, this novel…”