Company of Liars

Karen Maitland’s novel A Company of Liars is frequently compared to The Canterbury Tales. I think it’s an unfair comparison and one that almost made me put down the book. I think perhaps the only similarities the two works share are that Maitland’s travelers are also a ragtag group thrown together on a voyage (some of whom tell stories) and that they are set in roughly the same time period.

It is 1348 and England is gripped by the Plague. Nine travelers are thrown together on the road as they are escaping the dreaded disease. Each traveler has a secret and lives in fear that others will discover it. Meanwhile, they are pursued by bad luck, disease, and possibly even authorities as they make their way across England.

This book became an engaging read, but I will admit it took me a while to get into the book. I felt encouraged by some of the positive reviews I read and expected a real surprise ending; however, Maitland is careful to plant clues to enable careful readers to predict each traveler’s secret, and I was able to deduce that of the narrator, possibly preventing some of the surprise the other reviewers mentioned. It could be that I was reading The Hound of the Baskervilles at the same time and was primed for clues, but it seemed fairly easy, for the most part, for a careful reader to guess each traveler’s secret—even that of Narigorm, the creepy child who casts runes to tell the fortunes and seems to hold everyone in her thrall with the exception of the narrator, Camelot, who understands who the child is when the others refuse to see.

I would recommend the book only to readers who have a substantial interest in the Middle Ages; otherwise, the bleakness of the novel might prevent the reader from enjoying it. I didn’t catch any glaring historical errors, and Maitland helpfully provides a Historical Note and Glossary to help readers. I do have a quibble with a mythological element Maitland used, but I don’t want to give the problem away for readers who wish to read the book. If you wish to know, you can select the area that appears between the arrows in the following paragraph, and the text will be revealed.

>>The Morrigan had different guises and forms depending on the literature one reads, but she is associated with death at war, and I didn’t find her association with the deaths of the travelers to be congruent with my understanding of her function in mythology.<<

Aside from this quibble, I enjoyed the book, which became more engaging as I continued to read.

In Progress: Company of Liars

The Black DeathA student of mine loaned me Karen Maitland’s novel Company of Liars, and when a student loans me a novel, I feel an extra compulsion to finish it. I was, however, having some trouble getting into this novel until right about yesterday when I was somewhere between 50 and 100 pages in. Then the characters drew me in, and I had read enough positive reviews of the novel to expect it to end with a bang.

One of the novel’s selling points is its historical accuracy. I have to say I have no trouble feeling as though I am traveling with the company, trying to flee the pestilence right along with them. The sights, smells, and atmosphere of the Middle Ages is perhaps too realistic, but certainly is accurate. Life in the Middle Ages was difficult. I think a lot of books set in the Middle Ages, perhaps even including my own, romanticize it a bit too much.

The Black Plague has been one of my grimmer interests–one I’ve shared with my husband, as a matter of fact. The fear of the Plague is all too palpable in this novel. Nine companions are brought together while fleeing the Plague. Each of the nine travelers in this novel has a secret. I think I have some of the secrets figured out, but nearly halfway into the novel, I know I have a way to go before I unravel the rest. Expect, as always, my review once I finish. Meanwhile, if you’re looking for a good Plague yarn, pick it up and read along with me.

Image obtained from Rancho Buena Vista High School Advanced Placement European History and is used in accordance with Fair Use Guidelines for Educational Purposes.

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The Last Dickens

Charles Dickens’s last novel The Mystery of Edwin Drood was incomplete at the time of Dickens’s death in 1870.  In fact, he had finished half the book, which had been published in installments, a common practice with Dickens novels.  When I heard Matthew Pearl’s lecture on this novel at the Margaret Mitchell House here in Atlanta last Monday, Pearl mentioned that reading books in installments is not something we as a reading public really understand.  Sure, we have to wait for a television series like Lost to enfold in installments, but books are published whole and entire nowadays, and the thrill of reading the book as the writer is actually finishing it — that there is the chance no one yet knows how it will all turn out — is not available to us as readers as it was in Dickens’s time.  To think — we will never know how his last novel turned out because no record of Dickens’s intentions with the novel has ever been found.  We have the gift and frustration of creating our own ending.  Perhaps it is for that reason, no matter how intrigued I was by the book based on reading Pearl’s novel, that I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to pick up The Mystery of Edwin Drood.  I do think not knowing would drive me crazy.

The hero of Pearl’s novel is James R. Osgood, one half of the publishing firm of Fields & Osgood, the Boston publishers of such luminaries as Longfellow, Lowell, Holmes, Emerson, and just about every other American writer of note at the time.  This novel completes what Pearl thinks of as a literary set: the heroes of his first novel, The Dante Club, were the writers themselves; the hero of his second, The Poe Shadow, an admiring reader of Poe’s; The Last Dickens completes the reading trinity with a publisher.   Pearl’s Osgood is a likeable fellow — a true champion of books, authors, and the reading public.  He travels to England following Dickens’s death in the hopes that he can discover something, anything about Dickens’s intentions regarding the ending of Drood, only to find himself embroiled in Dickens family drama and the the seedy underbelly of the opium trade.  Mysterious forces seem intent on discovering the ending of the novel for themselves either to pervert it toward their own ends or to destroy it.

Readers interested in learning more about Dickens, particularly the cult of celebrity surrounding his work, will enjoy this novel.  The glimpses into the reality of life in Victorian England and Boston are interesting as well.  Pearl’s characters seem so real that it may surprise you to read the historical note and discover several are invented for the book.  I know I had to use my Ancestry.com membership to look up James R. Osgood in the census and find out if he was ever able to marry Rebecca Sand.  One person asked Matthew Pearl about Dan Simmons’s new novel Drood, a thriller also inspired by Dickens’s last novel.  The question revolved around the interest in The Mystery of Edwin Drood as inspiration, which Pearl explained as the fact that it remains unfinished and was the last Dickens novel.  I wondered myself how both Pearl and Simmons felt upon arriving at such similar subject matter at the same time.  It is my hope that the two novels will help each other rather than serve as competition.  I know I am interested in reading Simmons’s novel now, and I’m not sure I would have been if Pearl hadn’t written The Last Dickens.

One thing I can say about Matthew Pearl is that he is one of the nicest and most personable writers you will ever meet.  I first crossed his path when I recommended The Dante Club to my students in a blog post.  He was appreciative and contacted me through my site, inviting me to hear his lecture upon the publication of The Poe Shadow.  He held a trivia contest at the lecture, which I won.  My prize was a manuscript page from The Dante Club (and it happened to be my favorite part of the book!).  When I reached the end of the line and was able to have my books signed, I introduced myself, to which Matthew exclaimed, “Oh, you’re Mrs. Huff!”  He signed my manuscript page, which I framed and hung on my classroom wall.  Recently, he invited me to read an advance copy of The Last Dickens, and because I’m so slow, I’m just finishing it — I had hoped to have finished it before the novel itself was actually published so I could be one of the first reviewers.  When I went to Matthew’s lecture at the Margaret Mitchell House, I was pleased that he remembered me and he asked about my students.  Not all authors are so appreciative of their fans.  I would read anything Matthew wrote, but truthfully, The Last Dickens is a good read that will appeal especially to book lovers.

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Matthew Pearl’s The Last Dickens

This week I received a galley copy of Matthew Pearl‘s new book The Last Dickens, which will be released on March 17, and I feel duty-bound to sit down and read it since Matthew was kind enough to send it.  Actually, I’ve been looking forward to the book ever since I heard it was coming soon.  Folks interested hearing Matthew discuss the book, please note:

  • March 17 at 6:30 P.M., Barnes and Noble, Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY
  • March 19 at 7:00 P.M., Newtonville Books, Newton MA.
  • March 23 at 6:00 P.M., Margaret Mitchell House, Atlanta, GA. (I’ll be at this event.)
  • March 24 at 8:00 P.M., Books and Books, Coral Gables, FL.
  • March 26 at 7:00 P.M., Prairie Lights Bookstore, Iowa City, IA.
  • March 30 at 7:00 P.M., University Book Store, Seattle, WA.
  • March 31 at 7:00 P.M., Books, Inc. (Opera Plaza), San Francisco, CA.
  • April 2 at 7:00 P.M., Boosktail, Chicago, IL.

More information about venues, including full addresses, phone numbers, and contact information, can be found at Matthew’s Web site.

I would encourage you to check out Matthew Pearl’s books if you haven’t read them before.  He writes smart literary thrillers that appeal especially to book lovers.  I really enjoyed his first two books, The Dante Club and The Poe Shadow.  One of my literary treasures is a signed manuscript page I won by correctly answering a trivia question at Matthew’s last stop in Atlanta.  It was a lot of fun to meet him.  He’s very friendly and personable in addition to being a great writer.

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The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

First, the good news is that I was able to generate quite a lot of interest in a book club among the teachers at my school.  They graciously allowed me to select our first book, and I chose Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows’s The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.  It’s a perfect book for book clubs, and I believe I had read as much somewhere, but I’m not sure where.  I was taken by the title.

The book is populated with memorable characters who tell their story through letters.  As this is one of only a handful of epistolary novels I’ve read, I’ll call it a unique storytelling device that works well to reveal the plot.  Much better, in fact, than I think a straight narrative would have because it allows for the otherwise risky device of multiple narrators to work much better.  The novel is the story of a writer named Juliet Ashton, who reminded me of Dorothy Parker.  I’ll be curious to see if my book club members thought of her, too.  By chance, Dawsey Adams, a pig farmer on the Channel Island of Guernsey comes upon one of her books in a used book store, and he enjoys it so much that he writes to her.  Over time, Juliet develops friendships with Dawsey and his friends, who formed the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society during Germany’s occupation of the island during World War II.

Any book focused on a setting ought to leave the reading feeling a desire to visit, and that’s precisely how I felt.  I have never thought even once in my life of going to Guernsey, but just like John Berendt’s characters in Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil bring the city of Savannah to life and have caused a cottage industry around tourism related to the book, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn something similar happens to Guernsey; however, increased tourism will likely depend on how popular the book becomes.  My favorite books — the ones I couldn’t put down even if they were not literature with a capial L — were all populated with memorable, realistic characters I wish I could know in real life, and now I have one more book to add to that list.

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The Plague of Doves

The Plague of DovesLouise Erdrich’s latest novel A Plague of Doves might be the best book I’ve read this year.  I kept turning the pages as the drama that affected an entire town unravels showing the degree to which the traumatic murder of a family and subsequent lynching of innocent parties binds the townspeople together in a fascinating web of history.

A Plague of Doves is often compared to Faulkner.  Erdrich’s use of multiple narrators as well as the imagery, symbolism, and characters of her novel certainly evoke Faulkner, but readers daunted by Faulkner’s style need not be afraid.  A Plague of Doves contains no page-length sentences or stream-of-consciousness meanderings that make it difficult to follow.  This story is told from the viewpoint of four different narrators who are all connected to the town’s tragic past in various ways.  One of the narrators, Evelina Harp, attempts to parse the connections upon first hearing about the story of the lynching:

The story Mooshum told us had its repercussions — the first being that I could not look at anyone in quite the same way anymore.  I became obsessed with lineage.  As I came to the end of my small leopard-print diary (its key useless as my brother had broken the clasp), I wrote down as much of Mooshum’s story as I could remember, and then the relatives of everyone I knew — parents, grandparents, way on back in time.  I traced the blood history of the murders through my classmates and friends until I could draw out elaborate spider webs of lines and intersecting circles.  I drew in pencil.  There were a few people, one of them being Corwin Peace, whose chart was so complicated that I erased parts of it until I wore right through the paper. (86)

I drew my own family tree chart in the back of my book and added to it as I read and discovered new connections.  After finishing the book, I wish I had thought to make index note cards, as one reviewer did, because the web of relations is so complicated.  For all its complexity the story is that much richer and more real.

Several sections of Erdrich’s novel could stand alone as short stories, and indeed, parts of it have been published as short fiction, as I learned on reading Erdrich’s acknowledgments at the end of the book.  If parts of the novel feel somewhat digressive as a result, I think Erdrich can be forgiven, for when the reader reaches the last few pages, all the digressions are shown to be pieces of a complex puzzle — the reader doesn’t know what the picture is until the last piece is put in place.

In addition to being a fairly good murder mystery, the novel is rich in imagery, symbolism, and well-drawn characters, and by the end of the novel, I felt like a resident of Pluto, North Dakota and felt sure that I had truly known all of these people and uncovered their bloody history myself.   And that, after all, is what a good book should do for us.  Go right out and get this book now!  It’s amazing!  I don’t often post Amazon reviews, but I loved this book so much I want everyone to read it, so this review will be cross-posted at Amazon.

My next book is Brunonia Barry’s The Lace Reader.

Update, 9/12/09: I managed to make my tree look sort of readable using Inspiration. Download it by clicking this link. I hope it’s useful. It probably goes without saying that unless you’ve read the book, you shouldn’t look at it because it reveals the ending.

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Wuthering Heights

I finished reading Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights. I was originally supposed to read it in high school, but I quickly fell behind our class’s reading schedule, and before I knew it, the unit was over and assessment was done. I donated my copy to my teacher, who gave us extra credit for book donations because she was trying to grow her classroom library. Alas, I didn’t return to the book until this year. I loved it!

I think my favorite part of the book was the setting. I could so clearly see Wuthering Heights and Thrushcross Grange and all the moors surrounding them. In a way, the setting was almost a character, too. I found the characters, for the most part, easy to dislike, yet strangely sympathetic. Just when I had truly written Heathcliff off as totally evil, Nelly jumps in and reminds the reader of his boyhood, and her concern for him near the end of his life awakened my own. I disliked Linton intensely, and I found myself annoyed with Cathy for her sympathy for him. Then, I would feel guilty because he was, after all, slowly dying, and who knows how that altered his character (not to mention contempt from his father and the loss of his mother). And speaking of Cathy, her treatment of poor lovesick Hareton I found horrid. What a forgiving sort he turned out to be. In short, one thing I think Brontë did quite well is paint characters who while flawed and perhaps even reprehensible, still manage to evoke the reader’s sympathy.

I think my favorite character was the storyteller Nelly Dean. She spoke her mind when she felt the need, and I sensed a deep respect for her from the other characters. I did wonder a couple of times why she would dish the family dirt to a complete stranger (Mr. Lockwood). At first, she struck me as gossipy. Later, when I decided that wasn’t exactly the case, I was at a loss as to determine why she would tell the story. I came to the conclusion that she was lonely for the first part of the story. After Heathcliff died and Mr. Lockwood returned, I decided she wanted the story preserved in some manner.

Mr. Lockwood is an interesting character. Through Nelly, he knows more about the true events of the whole story than some of the principal characters, and he is, I think, deeply affected by the story (witness his visit to the graves of Catherine, Heathcliff, and Edgar Linton).

I’m not sure if this will make sense, but this book struck me as so quintessentially English — I couldn’t imagine it in another setting. I imagine that many other British novels and plays could (and indeed, in the case of Shakespeare especially) have been re-imagined in different locations. Wuthering Heights, however, belongs to the moors of Yorkshire.

I will have to think carefully about how to teach this book so that my own students won’t fall into the trap I did. This reader’s guide Web site is excellent, and if you are interested in Wuthering Heights, you might wish to check it out.

I have to take a break from the Historical Fiction Challenge to read some summer reading so I can create assessments for my students. For the record, I planned to read the following books (titles stricken through I have completed):

Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell is long, but Northanger Abbey is fairly short. I think I can manage to finish the challenge by October, and perhaps the idea that I need to finish the challenge will compel me to finish the former — I put it aside because it was taking me forever, and I wanted to read some other things.

My next book is Simon Winchester’s The Professor and the Madman, a story of the creation of the Oxford English Dictionary.

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Emily Brontë

As I read Wuthering Heights, I find myself somewhat awed by Emily Brontë’s characterization and storytelling, especially given her own sister Charlotte’s assertion (in the 1850 introduction to Wuthering Heights) that Emily didn’t have the opportunity to travel widely and learn a great deal about different types of people.  Also, given her age (29) when the novel was completed, her accomplishment is all the more astonishing.

I think many people might read Charlotte’s introduction and find her criticisms somewhat unfair, but they struck me for their even-handedness.  Many of us might be tempted to see only good in a sister’s only novel and greatest accomplishment, especially after that sister’s death, but Charlotte seems to me to be quite a keen critic.  I’m not sure I agree with her criticisms yet (I think I’ll finish the book first), but I found them interesting nonetheless.

I found an excellent resource for readers of Wuthering Heights.  I especially like the photographs and artwork, which help me visualize the setting (not that Brontë is any slouch at description).

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Why Have I Not Read This Book Before?

I am totally loving Wuthering Heights.  So why have I not picked it up until now?  What prevented me from finishing it in high school?  I guess books come back to us when we’re ready for them… if we’re ready for them.

What about you?  Has this ever happened to you with a book?  Tell me the story in the comments.

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Wide Sargasso Sea

Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys is a parallel novel that explores perhaps one of the most interesting and mysterious characters in literature: Bertha “Antionette” Mason, the mad woman in the attic in Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre. Upon first reading Jane Eyre, I found parts of it to be somewhat slow, particularly Jane’s childhood recollections; however, after some months to reflect, I can find little to criticize in the novel, which is perhaps why I didn’t enjoy Wide Sargasso Sea as much as I did Jane Eyre.

It was interesting to learn more of Antoinette’s possible background. I have read that Rochester comes off rather badly in Rhys’s novel, but I didn’t find this to be the case. He doesn’t come off well, but he’s certainly no worse in Wide Sargasso Sea than he is in Jane Eyre. In fact, I sympathized with him, as his account of his marriage in this novel agrees with his account in the other in one important respect: he was tricked, and he was forced. How much of his paranoia about his wife being insane actually drove her to insanity is debatable.

However, Antoinette is certainly a much more sympathetic character, as most characters are when they are able to tell their side of the story. In many ways, her past, filled with rejections from her mother and the society in which she lived, was as sad as Jane’s. She no more deserved what happened to her than Jane did. But Rochester still doesn’t quite come off the villain for me. Who is? I suppose that’s something I’m still trying to figure out for myself, too.

I did feel cheated by not seeing Antoinette’s motivation for some of her actions in Jane Eyre. Only the last twenty pages or so are devoted to events in Jane Eyre. One could argue that as Antoinette was insane at that point, and clearly fuzzy on many details of her life, she didn’t recollect what she was doing in order to tell about it. However, I still wanted to see her light Rochester’s bed on fire, rip up Jane’s veil, and stab Richard Mason. While she is told about Mason, she has no recollection and almost seems to feel she is being lied to.  I wanted to see that moment of madness and rage, rather than read yet another second-hand account.  What drove her?  What motivated her?  That piece of the puzzle was still missing.  I wanted to see whether or not she realized who and what Jane was. This novel didn’t satisfy that desire, but it was a quick read and a good book that I would recommend to anyone who enjoyed Jane Eyre.

My next book is Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights, which I failed to finish in high school and consequently have decided to return to.

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