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Kotimaisten kirjojen ja käännöskirjojen lisäksi luen paljon muilla kielillä. Eniten englanniksi, toiseksi eniten espanjaksi ja myös silloin tällöin ranskaksi ja italiaksi. Tältä sivulta löydät kootusti kaikki blogissa käsitellyt englanninkieliset kirjat. Arviot on kirjoitettu suomeksi, mutta keväästä 2024 alkaen olen alkanut lisätä niihin tiivistelmän englanniksi. Toivottavasti siitä on iloa niille sivukävijöille, jotka eksyvät kiinnostavan kirjan perässä tänne Suomen ulkopuolelta.
>> Tutustu myös espanjan-, ranskan- ja italiankielisiin kirjoihin
In addition to Finnish books and books translated into Finnish, I read a lot in other languages. Mostly in English, second most in Spanish and also occasionally in French and Italian. On this page you will find all the English-language books covered on the blog. The reviews are written in Finnish, but from spring 2024 onwards I have started to include a summary in English. I hope that it will be useful for those visitors who wander in from outside Finland in search of an interesting book.
>> See also books in Spanish, French and Italian

As I lay there, listening to the soft slap of the sea, and thinking these sad and strange thoughts, more and more and more stars had gathered, obliterating the separateness of the Milky Way…

That ring at the door that I loved so much would bring, in the afternoon, my mother’s friends or, on rare occasions, my married aunts. In the evening a much more exciting variety of…

”[…] Cecil All over again. He daren’t let a woman decide. He’s the type who’s kept Europe back for a thousand years. Every moment of his life he’s forming you, telling you what’s charming…

And for two hours the wine was poured, the cheese cut, and the two men talked. Of what? Who knows? Of love, of war, of the past. And they listened with hearts instead of…

He was taken to the Pensione Sofia through the sunny waters of palaces, domes and ferries. It was his first visit to Venice and he was young; but he had only half a mind…

’Reading, were you?’ Rupert picked up the book which lay one the little table by the fire. It turned out to be the poems of Tennyson, bound in green morocco. Could she really have…

Desmond did not come. The sweater Mrs Palfrey was knitting for him neared completion, and everyone knew that he had not come to claim it. Saving face had been an important part of life…

Dark had so gained the trees that Lois, turning back from the window, was surprised at how light the room was. Day still coming in from the fields by the south windows was stored…
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