#OcTBRChallenge 2026: a month of reading books in French (or translated from French)

It's October, which means I am once again taking part in OcTBRChallenge, when the idea is to spend a month digging deep into your TBR list. And even though there are now only two of us still doing it on Twitter (there are more on Bluesky), I'm still enjoying it. I think the reason it hasn't taken off in the way of some other annual events is maybe that keen readers tend to be reading all year round anyway. But I like it a lot, and may well still be doing it even after the founders have moved on to other projects, because I love how it encourages me to approach my book collection in different ways: a hundred books in a month in 2020 and 2023, an A to Z of books in 2024, a book from each year of my life in 2022 and in 2025 I tried to read a book from as many different Humble Bundles as I could manage.

This year I decided to read only books in French, or translated from French. That's obviously going to slow me down a bit, so this won't be one of those years where I read a hundred books or anything like it. But it has successfully got me to set aside more time for reading, especially since I want to keep my run of finishing a book or audiobook a day going.

So these are the books and audiobooks I've finished so far this month, at the half-way point. For those I've read in French I have made a note of new vocabulary, and I shall get Mrs Theaker to test me on those at the end of the month!

1.  Leonard est un génie by de Groot and Turk. I'm such a dummy – I read this whole book about a marvellous inventor creating stuff like flying machines and didn't realise it was Da Vinci even after the model for the Mona Lisa turned up on the last page. 😄 Very funny. Vocab: febriler = to show intense agitation or excitement. ****

2.  Les Taxis rouges by Peyo and Will. The first adventure of Benoît Brisefer, a super-strong and super-nice little boy, from the same creator as the Smurfs. In this one he suspects a new taxi firm of being up to no good. Charming and often laugh-out-loud funny. Vocab: balayer = to sweep. *****

3.  Thorgal v.32: La Bataille d'Asgard by Sente and Rosinski. Thorgal's son is sent to Asgard with an army of puppets to get an apple of eternal life. Some of the best art I've ever seen in a comic. Vocab: un lourdaud = a lummox. ****

4.  Félicie by Georges Simenon. Maigret investigates the murder of an old sailor, and is fascinated by his curiously flamboyant housekeeper. Brilliantly read by Gareth Armstrong as ever, e.g. when he has four policemen on a joint call and somehow keeps each of their voices distinct. ****

5.  Madame Adolphine by Peyo and Will. Funny little Benoit Brisefer gets himself and everyone else into a muddle when he makes friends with an elderly lady – and her malfunctioning robot doppelganger, which goes on a crime spree. Vocab: un encrier = an inkpot. ****

6.  Panne sèche à Serado by Vernes and Vance. I tend to read only the science fiction Bob Morane novels, but this graphic novel's cover tricked me into reading a story where he gets involved in a plot to assassinate a dictator. And there's kissing! Bob seems to be much more of a womaniser in the comics. Vocab: panne sèche = out of petrol. ***

7.  Maigret Gets Angry by Georges Simenon. Maigret, two years into his retirement, gets thoroughly irritated by an elderly woman who hustles him into investigating a murder for her, then even more so by her son-in-law, a former (detested) schoolmate. ****

8.  Thorgal v.33: Le Bateau-Sabre by Sente and Rosinski. Thorgal, still searching for one of his sons, is on a husky ride to deliver trade goods, but the village is in the hands of vicious Vikings, desperate to rescue treasure from the teeth of a killer whale. Vocab: le sevrage = weaning. ****

9.  Maigret at the Coroner's by Georges Simenon. An unusual and interesting Maigret book in that he's not the one actively investigating the crime: he's on a tour of the US and sits in the audience for a coroner's inquest, deciding whether the death of a 17-year-old girl involved foul play. *****

10.  Les Crapauds de la mort by Henri Vernes. The 86th Bob Morane novel is one of my favourites so far, with rather an epic storyline. Bill is abducted by sailors from a Lovecraftian cult, and Bob pursues them to Peru. The first novel I've read in which Bob gets a kiss. Vocab: les balivernes = nonsense. ****

11.  Thorgal v.34: Kah-Aniel by Sente and Rosinski. It turns out that Thorgal's son Aniel (not the one who went to Asgard) has been kidnapped by the Red Magicians of Bag Dadh, who believe him to be their leader reincarnated. Thorgal is in hot pursuit. Vocab: un éboulis = a scree. ****

12.  Maigret and the Old Lady by Georges Simenon. This time Maigret is charmed by an old woman, a pleasant and lively type whose housekeeper has been poisoned. Mme Besson thinks herself the target, but no one stood to benefit from her death. I was as dismayed as Maigret by the end of this one, because everyone I liked turned out to be a wrong 'un! ****

13.  Final Incal v.1: Les Quatre John Difool by Jodorowsky and Ladronn. It wouldn't be an OcTBRChallenge for me without a Jodorowsky book or three. I first read the Incal after staring at it on a professor's shelf through a series of tutorials, and eventually I got up the nerve to ask if I could borrow it. Nice to be reading some more, all these years later! This one is a true epic (all biological life is threatened!) with astonishingly detailed artwork. Vocab: un trouillard = a coward. ***

14.  Juan Solo v.1: Fils de flingue by Jodorowsky and Bess. More Jodo, but not the fun kind. This is the relentlessly grim and miserable story of violent social climber, abandoned as a baby on a rubbish tip and suckled on a pistol by a cross-dressing male dwarf prostitute. Vocab: cogner = knock. ***

15.  Madame Maigret's Friend by Georges Simenon. The 34th Maigret novel is another unusual one: Madame Maigret makes a friend, sitting on a bench each day before a dental appointment. But one day the friend asks Mme Maigret to keep an eye on her son for a moment – and doesn't come back! Brilliant as ever. *****

16.  Maigret's Memoirs by Georges Simenon. The 35th Maigret is also very curious: written in theory by the real Maigret, who recounts his relationship with Georges Simenon, who explains the reasoning behind the inaccuracies, simplifications and unlikely elements in the previous 34 novels! We also hear what the real Maigret thinks of all the actors who had played him! Quite a brain-bender. ***

17.  Léonard est toujours un génie by de Groot and Turk. The great inventor's assistant causes him various problems, e.g. by not waking up and by creating his own inventions. Lots of laugh-out-loud moments and I often have to re-read each page to see what the cat is up to. Vocab: un vermisseau = a worm. ***

18.  Brit, v.1: Baroudeur by Kirkman, Moore and Rathburn. An American comic but I read the French translation. After 50 years of superhero shenanigans in the same universe as Invincible, Brit (who confusingly isn't British) is ready to settle down and start a family. Vocab: un gigoteur = a fidget. ***

Some of you may have spotted that despite my plan being to read books in French or translated from French, that has turned out not to include any books by French authors! 15 are written by Belgians, 2 by a Chilean, and 1 by an American. I always thought I was a francophile but maybe I've always been an unwitting belgophile.

You may also have spotted that I haven't read a single book by a female writer this time, and that does come down to the kind of books I own in French: mainly science fiction bandes dessinees, pulp fiction novels and Georges Simenon. In October 2027 I might just read books written by female authors, to redress the balance a bit.

Everything Matters! by Ron Currie (Penguin Books) | review by Douglas J. Ogurek

Unorthodox narration propels novel espousing the meteoric power of finding meaning.

Everything Matters!, filled with astonishing imagery and emotional high points, focuses on the one thing that most of us try to avoid thinking about: death. The work rejects “life is meaningless” defeatist thinking and encourages readers to examine how we use their time before the inevitable happens. 

One of the book’s most distinctive features – and there are many – is its risky yet effective collective second-person omniscient narrator, an unidentified “we” speaking directly to Junior Thibodeau (the “you”), the novel’s protagonist. Junior is informed that he is one of the smartest people in the world and that thirty-six years from his birth, on a particular day at a particular time, a meteor will destroy the earth. This knowledge puts everything into question for him. What is meaningful? What can be prevented? What information should be revealed and what should be withheld from loved ones and from society? 

The benevolent narrators not only count down as the novel progresses but also advise (to an extent) Junior and reveal the backstory (and fate) of those the young man encounters. These individuals range from a teacher who was a candidate for the doomed Challenger space mission to a triple amputee who wants to blow up a building. At one point, the narrators state they know something that would reassure Junior, but they think it would be best not to do so. Another time, they assure Junior that someone is telling the truth. 

The novel also dips into first-person accounts from family members, transcripts from a psychologist, and even a semi-long passage in which Junior’s love interest craves a cigarette while on a plane.

Junior’s brother Rodney stands out as one of the novel’s most interesting and likeable characters. Despite brain problems stemming from a childhood cocaine addiction – Rodney is so cognitively challenged that he needs a personal attendant – he becomes one of the best professional baseball players in history. Meanwhile, a drug- and alcohol-muddled Junior drowns in pointlessness… until the opportunity to help someone arises. The contrast between Rodney and his haunted genius brother, both of them phenoms, makes for engaging interactions.

Even with all its narrative craftiness and time-flipping complexity, Everything Matters! reveals that what makes life worthwhile are the little things: the feel of a lover’s lips, a field of flowers, a pro baseball field. Stop worrying about the future, the book suggests, and appreciate the here and now. Just take everything in! Douglas J. Ogurek ****

McGregor's Month (September 2026)

In imitation of our eponymous editor’s ‘Theaker’s Week’ column, I thought I’d try a ‘McGregor’s Month’. Though imitation is indeed the highest form of flattery, my main motive is that I really wanted to say something about at least three of the following (presented in the order I read or watched them), but didn’t have enough time to write reviews, not even short ones. On which note, I can’t promise I’ll write another one of these either…which might be for the best!

 

The Coming of Joachim Stiller, a 1960 novella by Hubert Lampo (English translation by Marga Emlyn-Jones).**** Recommended to me by a Belgian friend as an introduction to the Flemish tradition of magical realism, which I’m embarrassed to say I’d never heard of before. Written in a crisp, clean, and understated style that foregrounds the often-unnoticed singularity of modernity and urban life. The attention to internal logic is impeccable, making the ambiguity of the conclusion satisfying rather than frustrating.

Obsession, a 2025 feature film directed by Curry Barker.***** An original and inventive premise that is for the most part extrapolated and elaborated with great skill and conviction. The narrative is as lean as the budget (though the latter is well-disguised by both the writing and acting) and its success at the box office has apparently made it the fifth highest-grossing horror film of all time.

Trap, a 2024 feature film directed by M. Night Shyamalan.**** I first came across Shyamalan’s latest in a review citing it as further evidence of his declining craftsmanship since Split (2017) and was, in consequence, pleasantly surprised. Neither his nor Josh Hartnett’s best, but a solid horror film (or suspense or thriller, depending on your preferred definitions) that was also successful at the box office.

King Zero, a 2026 novel by Charlie Higson.*** The next in the line of authorised Bond continuation novels, following his On His Majesty’s Secret Service (2023), which I missed (thankfully, because it’s about saving the Coronation). Included here because of the weirdness that has pervaded the recent films and original novels. A respectable espionage thriller that is at its worst when trying to remain faithful to Fleming’s worldview in an up-to-the-minute setting.

Something in the Water, a 2024 feature film directed by Hayley Easton.* I’ve no idea what, if anything, was actually in the water, but it definitely wasn’t a shark (or any other big fish). While I don’t want to make the mistake of assuming all poor CGI is now AI, the special effects are very, very poor. It doesn’t help that after the first attack, the sharks’ behaviour is also wildly implausible.   

Black Alibi, a 1942 novella by Cornell Woolrich.***** As regular readers will know, I’m obsessed with crime and horror crossovers, of which this is one of the best examples I’ve ever read. Much to my shame (again), I’d never heard of Woolrich until reading one of Joel Lane’s essays and he really is a master of noir, as good or better than James M. Cain and Jim Thompson. This is the third (of six) in his ‘Black Series’ (published from 1940 to 1948) and what I particularly liked is the way in which he uses explicit self-reflection on genre to heighten expectation for the dénouement. Definitely the month’s highlight, with Obsession a close second.