Nostalgia, dreams and hopes.

Boston, the 60s. The rat Firmin's life begins in the basement of a old bookshop, the runt of litter of 13. Rejected by his family, he has no choice but to feed on the pages he tears out of books, until he discovers he actually understands the words written on them and starts devouring them, figuratively, instead.

Exploring the neighbourhood, he discovers Scollay Square and the Rialto theatre, meeting Fred Astaire & Ginger Rogers on the screen, and the Lovelies after midnight. Back home he observes Norman Shine, the shopkeeper, from a hole in the ceiling. Every morning they read the newspaper together – and find out that the area is going to be demolished and renovated soon, sounding the death knell for the Pembroke Books. It isn't long until Firmin tries to communicate with Norman, only to be served rat poison in return.

Discomfited, his love unrequited, Firmin learns some sign language and tries his luck at the Public Garden... without much success either, and is rescued by Jerry Magoon, the solitary sci-fi writer who lives next to the shop. Together they listen to music and eat peanut butter. But Firmin's hopes are dashed again when he realizes his friend doesn't actually understand him and only sees him as a funny pet.

Firmin is a moving, sometimes sad, novel full of nostalgia, impossible dreams and foolish hopes. I really wish I could have been Firmin's friend.

9/10