R.I.P. Challenge V

R.I.P. Challenge V

R.I.P. Challenge VMy favorite time of year! R.I.P. Time! Carl holds the R.I.P. (Readers Imbibing Peril) Challenge each year as fall descends in early September. The challenge ends each Halloween. The goal is to select a level of commitment, which Carl has dubbed Perils, and to read the required number of spooky books (and the definition of spooky is extremely broad).

Peril the First involves reading four books of any length that fit the challenge.

Peril the Second involves reading two books of any length that fit the challenge.

Peril the Third involves reading one book of any length that fits the challenge.

Short Story Peril involves reading any number of short stories that fit the challenge.

Peril on the Screen involves watching films or television that fit the challenge.

Almost everyone can find a way to participate! I always over-commit myself and wind up not finishing the challenge, and I am going to finish this year! To that end, I’m going to commit to Peril the Second. If I can manage to fit in two more books, I’ll just up the level as I can. Even though I’ve never finished the challenge, I have enjoyed it each time.

At this point, I am going to commit to reading Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins and The Heretic’s Daughter by Kathleen Kent. It’s YA dystopia and Salem witchcraft! Should be fun. If I read more, I’ll add them to the pile later on.

Sense and Sensibility

Sense And SensibilityJane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility is the story of two sisters, Elinor and Marianne Dashwood who, along with their younger sister Margaret, are children of their father’s second marriage. When their father dies, their older half-brother John and his wife Fanny decide not to provide for their younger sisters and step-mother, leaving them in much reduced circumstances. Fanny does everything in her power to make her husband’s family feel unwelcome, especially in light of Elinor’s attachment to Fanny Dashwood’s brother Edward Ferrars, which Fanny sees as an inappropriate match for her brother. The family removes to a cottage in Devonshire, where Marianne meets and falls in love with John Willoughby. The novel follows the romantic fortunes and misfortunes of Elinor and Marianne as they learn to strike a balance between sense and sensibility.

I first read this novel in 1998, during my first year as a high school teacher. It was refreshing to return to it again and discover I loved it as much as I remembered. I had completely forgotten Willoughby returns upon hearing of Marianne’s illness to confess he still loves Marianne to Elinor. I can’t remember if that scene was absent from both movies I’ve seen or just the most recent. I have always admired Elinor as the kind of person who puts others before herself and rolls up her sleeves to do what must be done. I wish I were more like her. To Marianne’s credit, she realizes her behavior is selfish and repents of it. Her essential romantic nature and love for music and books is what I admire about her.

I can’t tell if I like this book better than Pride and Prejudice or not. Elizabeth Bennet is a spunky, admirable character, and Mr. Darcy a worthy romantic hero. Yet, the Misses Dashwood certainly have their charms. I have thoroughly enjoyed my re-reads of both books this year.

Rating: ★★★★★

I re-read this novel for the Everything Austen Challenge. It is the second of six Austen-related activities I have planned. Others:

The Meaning of Night

The Meaning of Night: A ConfessionThe story of the writing of Michael Cox’s The Meaning of Night is an interesting one. Diagnosed with a rare cancer, Cox began to lose his sight. He had begun the novel in the 1970’s, but cancer gave Cox a new sense of urgency. He finished the book, which in my paperback version stretches to nearly 700 pages.

The Meaning of Night is the story of Edward Glyver’s quest for revenge against Phoebus Daunt, who robbed him not only of his Eton education, but all he holds most dear. The book begins memorably as Glyver kills an innocent man to be sure that he will have the resolve to murder Phoebus Daunt when he has the opportunity: “After killing the red-haired man, I took myself off to Quinn’s for an oyster supper.” Following his account of killing this stranger, Glyver tells the story of his childhood, including his expulsion from Eton, his employment with Christopher Tredgold, and his infatuation with the beautiful Miss Emily Carteret, the daughter of the 25th Baron Tansor’s first cousin and employee, Paul Carteret. Glyver uncovers the truth of his parentage and reveals his motive for wanting to kill Phoebus Daunt.

I read this book at the recommendation of my husband, and while I enjoyed parts of it, I had some major problems with it. First, I could find no characters to like. I didn’t feel much sympathy for Edward Glyver. He’s unlikeable in the extreme. He values the wrong things in life, and he spends his days in dissolution, feeling sorry for himself. He was indeed treated unfairly, but he certainly meted out the same sort of treatment to other undeserving and innocent parties. Another issue I had with the book was its length. The story moves at a slow pace, and I found it difficult to plow through the beginning of the book, particularly as Edward Glyver had given me no reason to be interested in or care about what happened to him. I am not sure what should have been cut, but I hate investing so much time in a book this long for so little reward. The story turns on coincidence, which normally I don’t mind and have actually used in my own writing, but for some reason in this novel it bothered me. It seems Alastair Sooke and I are in agreement on our reviews. What Cox does very well in this book is capture a sort of seedy underbelly of Victorian society and the sharp divisions between classes.

Cox succumbed to cancer on March 31, 2009 after finishing The Glass of Time, a companion to The Meaning of Night.

Rating: ★★★☆☆

This book is my eighth book for the Typically British Challenge, bringing me to the highest level of the challenge: Cream Crackered. Looks like I have finished this one.

Well Read. tee-shirt on sale at the Decatur Book Festival, September 2009

Reading Update: July 1, 2010

Well Read. tee-shirt on sale at the Decatur Book Festival, September 2009I am in the midst of reading three books at the moment: Gulliver’s Travels via DailyLit, The Meaning of Night by Michael Cox (paperback), and The Three Weissmanns of Westport (Kindle).

As of today, I have read 80 of 115 sections via email of Gulliver’s Travels. My verdict so far: I am ready to be finished with it. My favorite part has been Gulliver’s stay in Brobdingnag, which might change before I finish the book. As I read, I find myself annoyed with Gulliver for repeatedly abandoning his family on what look like frivolous voyages to me. If I were his wife, I’d have divorced him.

The Meaning of Night is taking me some time to get into. I’m currently on p. 244 out of about 700. I am being patient because my husband says it’s really good, but it hasn’t grabbed my interest yet. My husband keeps saying it will, and he rarely gushes about books. I don’t think I can give the book too much longer or I will have given it too much for too little return. It does have a good atmosphere, and the author captures Victorian England well.

The Three Weissmanns of Westport is indeed Sense and Sensibility set in modern Westport, CT and New York. I like it so far. It’s full of modern pop culture references (Gawker, Oprah, subtle shades of James Frey). I’m not sure how well it will stand the test of time as a result. I think the author does more telling rather than showing, but I’m entertained and intrigued enough to finish. I’m 41% finished with it. I’m reading it for the Everything Austen Challenge.

What are you reading? What do you think of it?

Everything Austen Challenge

Everything Austen Challenge II

Everything Austen ChallengeJust as the  All About the Brontës Challenge is ending, I am embarking on a new reading challenge: the Everything Austen Challenge. Regular readers know I love Jane Austen, and I’m looking forward to completing this challenge. In order to complete the challenge, which runs from July 1, 2010 to January 1, 2011, readers must choose six Austen-themed things to complete for the challenge—books, movies, and even crafts count.

The six things I have chosen are the following:

I will blog reviews of each of these Austen-related items, even though I don’t usually blog movie reviews.

The Little Stranger

The Little StrangerI have never read anything written by Sarah Waters before. I had no expectations going into this book. The art teacher at my school said I would like it, and that the last page was a doozy. If what I think happened is what happened, then she’s right.

The Little Stranger is the story of Dr. Faraday and his long-standing obsession with Hundreds Hall, the home of the Ayres family. He first encounters the family as a small child when he visits the estate as part of an Empire Day celebration. Taken with the charm of the house, its grandness, its stateliness, he prizes a small acorn decoration from a plaster border in one of the passages in the house. The next time Dr. Faraday enters the house about thirty years later, it is to treat the Ayres family’s maid Betty. Dr. Faraday gradually becomes closer to the Ayres family and even becomes indispensable. Strange things start to happen around the house: a girl is badly bitten by the otherwise docile Gyp, the Ayres family dog. Strange marks begin to appear on the walls and ceilings. Objects move. Is it the ghost of poor little Susan Ayres who died before her younger sister and brother were born? Or is it something even stranger and more mysterious?

The book is as much a gothic ghost story as it is the story of the waning of the British class system, perfectly encapsulated by Mrs. Ayres as quoted by her daughter, “She said families like ours, they had a—a responsibility, they had to set an example. She said, if we couldn’t do that, if we couldn’t be better and braver than ordinary people, then what was the point of us?” In the post-WWII setting of the novel, many of the old gentry like the Ayres family are rapidly losing their money and are unable to keep up their grand estates. Course, nouveau-riche families like the Baker-Hydes are moving into the nearby estates. Keeping Hundreds Hall going occupies all of Roderick Ayres’s time (nice touch with the literary allusion in that name). Meanwhile, Dr. Faraday has risen from a humble background as the son of a shopkeeper and former Hundreds Hall servant to become a doctor. Even as the last vestiges of the class system seem to be dying away, some parts of it hang on with a frustrating tenacity that prevents Faraday from truly advancing in the ways he hopes to.

This book has some genuinely creepy parts. I was a little spooked reading it at night. One portion late in the book concerning the haunting of Mrs. Ayres was actually scary. Readers who like a definitive ending instead of one you have to mull over and determine what you think happened—because Waters does leave it up to your interpretation—might not enjoy this book. It is slow to start, but parts of it are gripping and will keep you turning the pages. I am knocking off a star for the plodding pace in portions of this book and the fact that I didn’t like the characters very much (with perhaps the exceptions of Betty and Mrs. Ayres). It’s been a long time since I read a really good ghost story, and I enjoyed this book a great deal. I know I’ve enjoyed a book when I close it and wish I could write one like it. If you enjoy spooky ghost stories like The Turn of the Screw, Rebecca, and The Ghost Writer by John Harwood, you’ll like this book. I’ve read it is also a cousin of The Haunting of Hill House, but I haven’t read that one yet.

Rating: ★★★★☆

This book is my seventh book in the Typically British Reading Challenge. One more book and I will meet the challenge’s highest level: Cream Crackered.

Charlotte and Emily

Charlotte and Emily: A Novel of the BrontësJude Morgan’s Charlotte and Emily is mistitled. It is actually the story of Maria, Elizabeth, Charlotte, Branwell, Emily, and Anne Brontë, as well as their parents. In the UK, the book was titled The Taste of Sorrow, a title much more apt, though one could argue again that the Brontës endured much more than a taste of sorrow. I imagine the reason for the change stems from the notion that Americans will be more interested in Charlotte and Emily, as though we aren’t as likely to buy a book the book with Morgan’s title. I grow tired of this sort of retitling.

Morgan’s novel begins on the deathbed of Maria Branwell Brontë and traces the familiar family story from the coming of Aunt Branwell to help care for the children, to the loss of Maria and Elizabeth, casualties of the harsh conditions at the Clergy Daughters’ School in Cowan Bridge. Branwell is given the gift of toy soldiers, and he and his sisters create imaginative stories. As they grow, they find it difficult to leave behind their created worlds of Angria and Gondal. As adults, the sisters try their hand at teaching and governessing, but they are ultimately unhappy. Their brother Branwell succumbs to drinking and dissolution; meanwhile, they write.

Morgan’s writing style draws you in. He doesn’t attempt to mimic the style of the Brontës, and some expressions (Tabby’s “What’s up?”, for instance) seem jarring, but the overall effect is an admirable piece of work that brings the Brontë family alive. Patrick Brontë, the family patriarch, suffers a little under Morgan’s characterization, but as I don’t know much about the man, I can’t say that the characterization is unfair. Once again, I walk away from a book about the Brontës with the notion that no matter their unhappiness in life, I would really like to have sat at the table with all of them for tea and conversation. Branwell is the great unrealized genius, fiery and passionate. Anne, the dutiful, honest thinker. Emily, the blunt, private dreamer. Charlotte, much like her heroine Jane Eyre, a person whose passions run deep beneath the surface.

I highly recommend this novel to fans of the Brontës. It’s highly readable historical fiction that brings the reader into the world of the Brontës. Don’t take my word for it, however. The BrontëBlog has a glowing review of the book.

Rating: ★★★★★

This book concludes the All About the Brontës Challenge for me and is my fifth book in the Bibliophilic Books Challenge (one more will bring me to Litlover status). This book is also my sixth selection for the Typically British Reading Challenge, bringing me to the “Bob’s Your Uncle” level. I’ll keep going.

Good Omens

Good Omens (audio)Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett’s Good Omens examines the apocalypse with a sense of humor. I have not previously read any Terry Pratchett, but Neil Gaiman’s books, especially The Graveyard Book, have been favorites. So… exactly what would happen if the Antichrist wasn’t terribly invested in making Armageddon happen?

The novel begins with an introduction of Crawly (later Crowley), a demon, and Aziraphale, an angel—unlikely friends present at the fall of man (Crowley was the serpent) who remain on earth until the fulfillment of God’s ineffable plan. The thing is, they like it a little too much and make an unlikely team as they try to prevent the apocalypse. Meanwhile, Adam Young grows up in the small English town of Tadfield, the leader of a small gang of children, not knowing his destiny is to bring about the end of times. His neighbor, Anathema Device, is the descendant of Agnes Nutter, a witch whose prophecies are so accurate they’re very nearly useless, moves to Tadfield to be in place as Armageddon unfolds. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse—Death, War, Famine, and Pollution (Pestilence retired, muttering something about penicillin)—descend on Tadfield.

I found the book entertaining, and Martin Jarvis is a good narrator. The book seemed to go fast. It was funny—some moments of genuine laugh-out-loud humor. I particularly liked the characterization of Death as being technologically illiterate. The characters are likable, especially Crowley and Aziraphale. In the end, however, the book felt more like a snack than a meal—light fun, but ultimately not terribly memorable.

Rating: ★★★½☆

Typically British Challenge

This book brings me one book closer to meeting the “Bob’s Your Uncle” level (six books) for the Typically British Reading Challenge.

Maria Brontë

Maria Brontë

Maria Brontë
Photo by Gary Myers, via Find a Grave

I’m currently reading Charlotte and Emily by Jude Morgan. I am new to the Brontës, having only read Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights in the last three years. Upon reading Syrie James’s The Secret Diaries of Charlotte Brontë earlier this year, I became much more interested in the Brontës themselves. I highly recommend BrontëBlog if you want to keep up with Brontë references in both pop culture and academia. I haven’t read any Brontë biographies yet. Syrie James’s novel begins just as Charlotte Brontë has returned from Belgium. All of the surviving Brontës are adults, and their sisters Maria and Elizabeth, who died as children, are logically not a part of the story. Jude Morgan begins his novel with the death of Maria Branwell Brontë, wife of Patrick Brontë and mother of the six Brontë children. After a flash forward of a few years, Patrick Brontë seizes an opportunity to educate his daughters inexpensively and sends first Maria and Elizabeth, then later Charlotte and finally Emily to the Clergy Daughters’ School in Cowan Bridge, some forty miles away from Haworth, the Brontës’ home. Because Morgan chose to begin his story of the Brontës at an earlier time, his novel provides a glimpse not only of the Brontës’ mother, but also Maria and Elizabeth.

My first thought upon reading about Maria’s abiding patience and endurance in the face of outright child abuse at the school was that she sounded just like Helen Burns in Charlotte Brontë’s novel Jane Eyre. Eager to learn whether or not this was true or conjecture on behalf of Morgan, I searched for references to Maria as the inspiration for Helen, and I discovered some quotes from Elizabeth Gaskell’s Life of Charlotte Brontë. Indeed, Charlotte did claim, in the face of criticism that Helen was “too good to be true” (and I admit I felt the same way when I read Jane Eyre), that “she was real enough.  I have exaggerated nothing there.” Mrs. Gaskell described an incident that Morgan works into his narrative in which Maria, not well enough to get up, was urged to stay in bed by the other girls, only to be abused by their teacher, Mrs. Andrews. Maria struggled to dress herself, urged the other girls to have patience, and was subsequently punished for being late (presumably to breakfast or class—Gaskell did not say).

After reading about Maria and learning that her story as presented by Jude Morgan was true, the first thing I wanted to do was go back in time and rescue her from that awful place and take care of her, which I’m sure her father and siblings wished they could have done. Her story is heartbreaking, moving, and sad. Given Patrick describes talking with eleven-year-old Maria  “on any of the leading topics of the day with as much freedom and pleasure as with any grown-up person,” one cannot help but wonder what books Maria might have written had she lived.

I learned more about Maria Brontë at these websites:

On an unrelated note, I am appreciating Morgan’s writing style a great deal. His use of stylistic fragments and run-ons to evoke events whirling out of control as well as occasional adjectives shifted out of order popped off the page because I have recently been teaching students these techniques using Image Grammar by Harry Noden. Though Noden gives examples from prominent writers in his book, it’s fascinating as a lover of the craft of writing and and avid reader to catch these interesting techniques in action.

A Year in the Life of William Shakespeare: 1599

A Year in the Life of William Shakespeare: 1599 (P.S.)James Shapiro’s A Year in the Life of William Shakespeare: 1599 describes the events surrounding one of Shakespeare’s most prolific years, beginning with his finishing Henry V, through the composition of Julius Caesar and As You Like It, ending with the composition (and revision) of Hamlet. I had not read much before wishing we had a book like this for each of the years of Shakespeare’s career. Shapiro deftly connects historical events such as the threat of Spanish invasion, a botched campaign in Ireland led by the Earl of Essex, and fears regarding Elizabeth’s succession to characters and events in these four plays. Starting with winter 1598-1599, Shapiro sets each play’s composition in a different season and describes the historical events during that time period. One of my students once noted that I always say “No one writes in a vacuum.” I didn’t know I said it that much, but it’s true, and Shapiro’s book is a testament to the influences upon Shakespeare’s writing.

I found it intriguing to discover the types of historical evidence for Shakespeare, especially in light of the fact that so many people claim he didn’t exist or didn’t write his plays. I am looking forward to reading Contested Will, in which Shapiro examines the anti-Stratfordian theories for authorship.

This book abounds with descriptions and side notes that lend an extra layer of understanding. It was this year that the Lord Chamberlain’s Men fired their clown, Will Kemp, and hired a couple of excellent boy actors capable of playing strong female roles. It was this year that the Globe was constructed when the lease on the land housing the Theatre could not be renewed. In addition, Shapiro shares the in-jokes most modern readers would likely miss:

The cross-pollination of the plays reaches another level when Polonius unexpectedly tells Hamlet, “I did enact Julius Caesar. I was killed i’ th’ Capitol; Brutus killed me” (3.2.99). John Heminges, who played older men, probably spoke these lines and also played Caesar. The in-joke, which audiences at the Globe would have shared, is that Richard Burbage, who was playing Hamlet and had played Brutus, was about to stab Heminges again. (328).

Of course, this example is only one among many. This book will have a treasured place on my shelf and will be at hand when I teach Shakespeare again. If you enjoy Shakespeare, Tudor history, the Renaissance, or just a good book about books, read A Year in the Life of Shakespeare: 1599.

Rating: ★★★★★

This book is my third selection for the Bibliophilic Book Challenge. I committed to the Bookworm level of the challenge, which means completion of three books, so the great news is that I have completed this challenge. I may continue to read more books suited to the challenge.