Emily Climbs - LM Montgomery

Emily Climbs by LM Montgomery

Guest review by Alice (14)

This is a beautifully written follow up to Emily of New Moon but you have to read Emily of New Moon first as I did because it would get a bit confusing as to who's who as there are quite a few characters from the first book in this book. I for one can't wait to read the last book in the Emily series (Emily's Quest) to find out what happens next.

(Spoiler alert – if you haven’t read Emily of New Moon, go away and do that first if you're afraid of spoilers for Emily Climbs!)

Emily Climbs is the second book in the Emily series. In the first book, the 12 year old Emily moves to New Moon, her aunt's house after her father’s death leaves her an orphan. Now 14 in the second book, Emily goes to Shrewsbury high school with her friends, Ilse, Teddy and Perry, but going to Shrewsbury means going to stay with aunt Ruth and to stay with aunt Ruth means to give up her beloved writing. Emily now torn from her dreams faces many dilemmas throughout the story.

My favourite character is Cousin Jimmy who although he is not the main character is always willing to listen to Emily and he will always side with her, always thinking her right.

This thought provoking book will make all teenagers and adults sympathise with the woes and dilemmas of young Emily from the start of the book when she is 14 to the end where she is 17. Some of the language on this book may be a bit tricky for younger readers to understand (even I had a bit of trouble with some words!) and this book gets ten out of ten for a deeply satisfying read.

Publication details: November 2013, Virago Modern Classic, London, paperback (first published 1925)

This copy: review copy from the publisher

Wide Sargasso Sea - Jean Rhys

Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys

Review by M

 

Wide Sargasso Sea was a reread for me this time, and so I’m charting my reflective thoughts on my reading journey with it. There are some small spoilers but nothing that actually ‘spoils’ a first read. This is a dense and special book, the kind that really begs to be read again and again (and I rarely read a book twice).

Wide Sargasso Sea is about Antoinette, a creole girl in 1930s Jamaica, set just after the emancipation of black slaves. Born to a white slave owner and a creole mother from Martinique, Antoinette passes into womanhood during turbulent times, and finds that her family is reviled from every side. Struggling with her own identity problems and with a history of family ‘madness’, marriage and a move to Granbois in nearby Dominica begin as a blissful escape and descend into something much more sinister.

The novel is often talked about as a companion novel to Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre. Certainly, that’s how I came to first read it. It was on the reading list for an English Lit options module that I took, something along the lines of either Gender in Fiction or Feminist Fiction (because of course, they may not be the same things). Essentially, Wide Sargasso Sea is the prequel to Jane Eyre and features the first Mrs Rochester as well as the Mr, and gives voice to the mad woman in the attic.

Previous to first reading it, I’d read Jane Eyre, again for a literature course. I cannot immediately recall anything about it (!) and my recorded comments for it were ‘Disappointing’ (clearly my expectations had been somewhere quite off the mark). My comments for Wide Sargasso Sea, however, were “strange but powerful”. Additionally, I could remember much about the atmospheric Wide Sargasso Sea, although in a very disjointed way.

Recently, it popped up in conversation on Twitter. When Natasha Farrant mentioned that she had started reading it, wondering how it had never been in her life before this, I knew it was time for me to look it over once again.

Wide Sargasso Sea is a little book. I read it in just over one sitting (simply because I started it very late on a Friday night and I was past being ready for sleep). It is beguiling, and sad, and unbelievable, and stark, and confusing, and deeply rich in its imagery. Antoinette’s relationship with Christophine, and the pulls and sway of both obeah and christian religions in the novel are both intoxicating for the characters and the reader. Wide Sargasso Sea still says as much to me as it leaves unsaid and trails, in a sweetly troubling way, around my head.

Part One is narrated by Antoinette, Part Two by the I who is her husband and Part 3 again by ‘Antoinette’. On narration, I had the feeling that Antoinette also narrates sections in Part Two of WSS (but without a triple check, I may be wrong). Part 3 is perhaps the one that most directly links WSS to Jane Eyre and is my least favourite part of the novel.

 

I’ve heard some people say you need to read Jane Eyre first in order to understand Wide Sargasso Sea. Well, seeing as Jane Eyre had left such a weak impression on me, I do not agree. Of course, there are references in Wide Sargasso Sea that are obviously Jane Eyre, but they don’t detract from Wide Sargasso Sea as it’s very own story. As much as there’s the idea of giving a voice to the mad woman in Jane Eyre, for me, Wide Sargasso Sea is very much its own distinct – though connected – story to Jane Eyre. Antoinette’s story is compelling and powerfully told. For me, again, it is both Jean Rhys’ atmospheric language as well as Antoinette’s desire to be accepted and not treated as an unworthy foreigner, that leave the biggest marks on me.

Throughout the novel, Antoinette also recalls a dream she has, and tells it in three parts (I think, it was three). At the end, her dream becomes clear to her but it muddled a few things for me. I felt as if both she and I had experienced some sort of déjà vu and that I should have been paying more attention to her dream segments than I had (I often lose interest when characters relate aspects of their dreams!). Clearly, there is plenty left for me to explore on a third reading at some point, perhaps!

 

I’m currently rereading Jane Eyre (I still can’t remember anything about it! Perhaps I previously skim read it for an exam!), so it will be interesting to see whether this enhances or alters my thoughts on Wide Sargasso Sea.

 

My classics club challenge verdict: Absolutely a classic: it has been re-read by me and I suspect generations on will continue to explore it

 

Publication details: first published 1996

This copy: mine, Penguin, 1968, paperback (yep, it’s my varsity copy)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jamaica Inn - Daphne du Maurier

Jamaica Inn by Daphne du Maurier

Review by M

 

This novel counts towards the Classics Club Challenge

 

I read Rebecca when I was a young teenager and loved it. It’s down as a reread for me and number five on our original Classics Club list of fifty. But, I’d never owned a copy so I bought it. It came as part of a Virago Modern Classics’ du Maurier bundle that included Jamaica Inn.

So, instead of a Rebecca reread, I started Jamaica Inn, not sure if it would be my sort of read (whatever that is!). I flitted between it and a number of other books (mostly review copies that I felt obliged to prioritise). Then, I saw a television trailer for a forthcoming BBC adaptation of it. This also prompted a renewed media interest in the ‘literary’ legacy of du Maurier with some sides hailing her as a popular and iconic storyteller while others question her literary merits. Remembering that my working definition of ‘classics’ is written stories that carry across generations (for any reason), my Easter reading plans were altered.

Jamaica Inn is a gothic romance which isn’t typically my sort of thing for all sorts of reasons (but mostly because of unhealthy gender relationships), so I haven’t read many. You realise from the first few pages of Jamaica Inn what you’re in for: an ever darkening story in an ominous setting with some nasty characters – but surprisingly some lovely ones too.

 

Twenty-three year old Mary Yellan’s mother has died and she has moved to live with her aunt Patience who lives at Jamaica Inn with her violent husband, Joss Merlyn. Nobody stops at or visits Jamaica Inn and something sinister, criminal and maybe even evil is going on. As a murderous story about smuggling cartels unfolds, Mary struggles with her own inner conflicts about trust, loyalty, gender and romantic feelings for an awful man.

As a gothic romance, Du Maurier’s writing  gets the balance right. Jamaica Inn is chilling and dire without being horrificly graphic, and there's a not-too-sweet dose of a properly infuriating romance too. While Jamaica Inn’s story is generally predictable (but other reviewers say differently!), the final pages surprised and ultimately disappointed me (more thoughts on this below because of spoilers).

From a gender perspective, Jamaica Inn is interesting. The roles of men and women, while mostly taken for granted (the setting is the 1820s), are also speculated about particularly by Mary Yellan and possibly by Jem Merlyn (the writing/publication is 1930s). This is also enhanced by contrasting parallels between the behaviour and gendered demeanours of Joss and Patience with those of Jem and Mary. Patience is acutely passive and scared witless in contrast to Mary Yellan who is headstrong and determined, but blames much that is wrong with her life on being a woman (of course, there is some truth in this). Because of this, she connects personal independence with being a man (some things still haven’t changed) and she anguishes about gendered identities, emotions and bodies.

Compared to Wuthering Heights, I do think Heathcliff comes off better than Jamaica Inn’s Joss Merlyn, Cathy comes off worse than Mary, and the plot and ending for Jamaica Inn (for me) is preferable to Wuthering Heights.

Classics Verdict: Gothic romance still isn’t doing it for me but  it's growing on me. Du Maurier’s novel is convincingly atmospheric and much better done than the BBC’s television adaptation. Would I unhesitatingly recommend it to the next generation? For me, it’s not a must read but for readers who enjoy this sort of thing, perhaps yes. Also, it reminded me that at heart, I am a bit of a romantic.

 

Publication details: 2003, Virago Press, London, paperback (orginal publication 1936, Victor Gollancz)

This copy: own

 

 

Spoiler alert! Spoiler alert

 

Further thoughts (contains SPOILERS!!)

 

The ending confused me and either I’ve missed something or the characterisation was a bit off. For much of the novel, Jem seems besotted with Mary and makes some big decisions and sacrifices for her sake. Why then does he stubbornly thwart her? Does he think that putting her off is actually better for her because he is not able to give her what he thinks she will want? And then, when she gives up her wish to return home in order to accompany him, why does he not change his direction and concede that to her? Is this about gender power relations and maintaining the masculine status quo for Jem? Is this about Mary giving in to her body’s ‘weakness’ or about choosing what she wants for herself? Is it about a dark cycle of bad relationships taking Mary down a similar path to her Aunt Patience (or is Jem much more wholesome than Joss – and will he remain like that)? I'd have gone with Jem.

 

 

 

 

 

End of spoiler!


I finished reading Jamaica Inn minutes before I watched the recent BBC adaptation. I don't think I've ever been so freshly close to as text as this when viewing a screen adaptation. That may have influenced my response to the BBC's version, but many important plot and characterisation elements were changed to the extent that much of du Maurier's Jamaica Inn was lost. The novel is far more subtle and explores Mary's conflicts in much greater depth. I much preferred du Maurier's novel.



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kindred - Octavia E Butler

Kindred by Octavia E Butler

Adult Fiction Review by M

Counted towards Classics Club challenge

 

 

I don’t read much science fiction but am definitely one who likes the ideas more than the details or adventure that fill the plots (that probably applies to any book from any genre that I read, if I’m being honest). So, Kindred’s mix of science fiction and African American literature as a premise was irresistible for me. I’d never read Butler before, but I was definitely aware of her, most recently through Aarti’s Diversiverse blog tours which explore speculative fiction by writers ‘of color’.

 

Kindred delighted, surprised, informed, moved and disappointed me, all in one. In 1976, Dana, a black American New Yorker, finds herself back in the southern heartland of nineteenth century slavery, a dangerous place for any black person. The novel takes Dana back and forth over the course of these years. While these travel episodes seem connected to Rufus, a slave owner’s son, Dana finds that her ‘quest’ is a very long-sighted survival that will last for generations.

 

For all its enormous subject matter (north American slavery in the 1800s and time travel) – and particularly given the context of 1970s USA when it was written and published – Kindred is quietly unassuming in its exploration of love, mixed race, gender relationships and enslaved bondage. Yes, there’s the time travel aspect to the novel but this is much more a device, which presents both the writer/narrator, the characters and the reader opportunities to grapple with these psycho-social themes.

 

What the time travel element also enables is the idea of the ‘one woman’ that Rufus creates in his mind for Dana and Alice. Also interesting, to me, is how the characters of Kevin, Rufus and Tom Waylin contrast white men. I would have liked to have seen further developments in Kevin’s story but that at least shows that there is substance to the individual characters independent of the novel’s story.

 

I also liked the way Butler highlights that the pain and suffering during slavery were (and are) experienced by everyone in some form or another, and across different times and space. Of course, she highlights too how there are different levels to this experience and how some are more affecting, unequal, unacceptable and abhorrent than others. But, again, she peruses whether or not this too alters in perception across time and space. She presents no easy answers or solutions to either racial identities or historical guilt.

 

For shelving Kindred, I’d definitely put it in among the Toni Morrisons and Alice Walkers. But, for a completely different yet parallel reading experience, it would sit equally comfortably, for me, alongside Audrey Niffenegger’s The Time Traveler’s Wife. Love and time travel provide the similarities, but Kindred offers less of sweet romance and much more grounded depth. I’d recommend them both for quite different yet similar reasons.

 

Classics club verdict: It definitely makes me want to go back and read Toni Morrison's Beloved again.

 

 

Some notes for my future lack of memory (small SPOILER ALERT):

 

 

 

SPOILERS BEGIN:

 

The characters: Alice is a black slave whom Rufus loves. Kevin is Dana’s husband, Rufus is the boy she connects with, and Tom is his father. Where Dana and Alice might be seen by Rufus to embody the one woman (who is also black), the three white men might be analysed in a similar way too (Perhaps? I have not explored this)?

 

 

 

SPOILERS END

 

 

 

 

 

Publication details: Headline, March 2014, London, paperback (originally published 1979)

This copy: review copy from the publisher

 

 

Virago Modern Classics Children’s 1st Anniversary

Virago Modern Classics celebrates its first anniversary of publishing children’s books this month and adds two more titles to its list. Virago’s editor, Donna Coonan, also speaks to us about children and classic books.

Virago “is the outstanding international publisher of books by women” and aims to put “women centre stage”. So says Virago's website. That, and it's classics list which focuses on rediscoveries and redefinitions pretty much sums up why my heart does a whooping flippety flop every time I see the apple of its logo on a book’s spine.

Oh, those covers!

I’m sincerely delighted that they’ve added children’s literature to the Virago Modern Classics (VMC) list. The first I knew of it was from the 'Emily' trilogy by LM Montgomery that they published last November. Anyone who’s a childhood fan of Anne of Green Gables will know that these are winners and the cover illustrations by Daniela Jaglenka Terrazzini are an extra excuse to buy these editions.  Plus, one of our teen book group reviewers attests that Emily of New Moon is excellent and are there any more?!! (Yes, there are  - two!). Here’s a link to a review from one of the Classics Club’s readers.

Published today are two more titles from Rumer Godden. An Episode of Sparrows and The Dark Horse. I’ve read the opening pages and therein lies the promise of something richly deep and slightly different for today’s readers, both children and adults alike. Godden’s ballet novels, Thursday’s Children and Listen to the Nightingale, launched the VMC list last year.

I asked Donna Coonan, the VMC editor, a couple of questions about the children’s list.

WSD: What do you think makes a children's classic for today's readers?

Donna Coonan: Children are discerning readers and if a book is written in a didactic manner or seems patronising in any way, they will see it a mile off. You can’t write down to a child, just as you can’t speak down to them. Rumer was a writer who could write as eloquently and as feelingly for children as she could for adults, and her characters are always beautifully realised, and you care deeply for them. Her children are never two dimensional, but fully formed and recognisable. There is humour and there is heartbreak, and she doesn’t shirk away from difficult subjects. Rumer relished the challenge of writing for children and said that her children’s books were just as important as her books for adults: after every novel she wrote a children’s book ‘because of the discipline, and the smaller the child, the greater the discipline’. It is the quality of her writing that shines through, and they speak as much to children today as they did to her first readers. They may be set in a different time, but the stories are universal. That is the mark of a classic.

WSD: What are your visions for the VMC children's list; what will distinguish it from other modern children's classics lists? 

Donna Coonan: The reason that the Virago Modern Classics list exists is to bring back into print wonderful books that have been neglected or overlooked but will be enjoyable to readers today, and we are expanding this ethos for another generation by publishing classics for children. So many of our books – from Rosamond Lehmann’s Invitation to the Waltz to Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca – were discovered by our readers as teenagers that it seems logical to move into publishing for a wider age range.

****

For LM Montgomery fans, there is more good news for June: Jane of Lintern Hill and Rilla of Ingleside will be published.

 

Now, where’s my apple…….(currently reading Daphne du Maurier's Jamaica Inn before its BBC televising next Monday).


 

Stoner - John Williams

Stoner by John Williams

Classics Club Review by M

Stoner is a wonderful, wonderful read. Some people should expect to receive it as a Christmas gift (how do you that emoticon wink thing?).

Originally published in 1965, it has been heralded as one of the less-known or forgotten classics, has been recently republished in the USA and now, in the UK, by Vintage Classics.

The plot, to many people’s ears (including mine), will sound drab. The novel tells the story of William Stoner’s relatively unremarkable life as a university teacher of English (although this particular turn of events for a rural American farmer boy is interesting in itself; and he lives and works in some awful conditions). It is a linear narrative told in the omniscient third person, so no textual games here.

But this novel is remarkable. From the opening page, I couldn’t put it down. There was excitement and tension in the deeply brutal interpersonal conflicts that assuage Stoner’s marriage and professional life but there is also fantastic characterisation, particularly of Stoner. More than any other character I’ve read in a long time, you immediately and wholly sink into William Stoner’s being; and it so quietly and humbly mournful (yet in a strangely uplifting way?!).

Thematically, the novel explores the work ethic, love (in the most unsentimental of ways), fitting in and literature.

John Williams proposes the notion that the university is a refuge from the rest of the world and explores this beautifully and painfully through a variety of characters. For those of you who have any familiarity with ‘mad professors’, Stoner is definitely worth a read! For those who don’t, the notion of refuge has broader appeal and significance too.

In many ways, the novel is also a reflection on a life and the different stages and moments that it goes through.  In this case, the life is Stoner’s, but his own introspective thoughts again mimic the kinds of general ‘life’ thoughts many Western people might experience. It would be interesting to see how people at different age stages in their lives respond to Stoner and whether they all enjoy it equally well: maybe at 20, 40 and 60?

Some interesting debates about the representation of gender and disability in the novel played through my head while I was reading it. There’s his wife, who might be described as a damaged femme fatale, and there is Lomax, doubly damaged by his disability. Taking into account a) American society at the time of the plot, and b) American society at the time of the novel’s writing, these issues in the novel are clearly raised by the author and they’re not clear cut.

Other people have commented on the novel and its relationship to ‘literature’. This runs strongly and frequently throughout the novel, but it wasn’t the aspect that interested me the most (I was the kind of English student who would have had Stoner in complete despair!).

Classics Club Challenge Verdict:

Not originally on my Classics Club challenge list (as I’d never heard of it), is it a classic for me? Yes. I would highly, highly recommend it to most readers. It would be a fabulous novel for book group chats.

With that in mind, this is what I’d want to talk about first.....

 

SPOILER ALERT

 

Discussion – includes spoilers

Much in Stoner’s life is excruciating: his home life, his marriage, his work schedule. The author lays this on pretty thickly, especially after the birth of Grace. For example, there’s a section where Stoner is described as having to be more a mother than a father. Taking into account the gender context of the time (like note too how few references are made to female students or academic staff), his life can’t really get much lower than that – he’s doing everything. At this point, however, I start to think that the narrator is perhaps a bit more unreliable than usual and this is suggested even further in the closing pages of the novel where Stoner feels that he was partly to blame for Edith’s behaviour. Maybe Stoner wasn’t quite as easy to get along with at home as is suggested (though on the whole, I think the balance is definitely in his favour).

 

Publication details (this edition): Vintage, London, 2012

This copy: digital copy received for review from the publisher

 

Things Fall Apart - Chinua Achebe

Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe

Reviewed by M

I first read Things Fall Apart at university for African Literature. It was possibly the first novel I’d read that was written by a black African author. The novel recently reappeared on my bookshelves after bringing it back from my attic bookhaul earlier this year (some of you might recall this event!). What prompted me to read it now, however, was We Need New Names, a new and wonderful novel by NoViolet Bulawayo.

 

We Need New Names referred frequently to ‘things fall apart’and I was sure this was more than coincidence. Having read Things Fall Apart, I should have known....but I didn’t. So I reread it. Yes, it is more than coincidence.....

 

Things Fall Apart is a tragedy: a tragedy about an individual, a tragedy about a village and perhaps a tragedy about colonialism. Set in pre-colonial Nigeria, it tells the story of Okonkwo, a proud and successful member of his tribe. The novel describes the tribe’s way of life, their (almost) unflinching adherence to their religion and patriarchal values. However, the novel also introduces questions that cut right into how we perceive our own and other cultures. At the forefront of this are differences about individual will versus the will of the gods as well as group will, justice, and sorrow. What comes out most strongly in Things Fall Apart is the suggestion that without missionaries and further colonisation, the tribes, as any other group of people, would have developed in their own time and ways – who knows what our histories would look like if that had happened? Achebe makes it clear that individuals in Okonkwo’s village were starting to mumble about the ways some things were done: for example, killing people simply because the gods said so or abandoning twins. The novel makes an effort to point out that cultural interpretations vary even within countries and that what is an atrocity ‘here’ might not be considered an atrocity ‘there’.

 

It is a highly enjoyable and gently compelling re-read and I think I got much more out of it this time. The writing style is quiet and quite different to many contemporary novels and especially 'western' novels. Some people criticised Achebe for writing in English but I'm in the camp that thinks this was a far-reaching move and achievement for both literature and cultural thinking.

 

Comparatively then, how did I view Things Fall Apart and We Need New Names?

 

Things Fall Apart was first published in 1958 and is set in Nigeria just before colonial times (probably late nineteenth century), around the time that the first European missionaries moved in. We Need New Names was published in 2013 and is set in Zimbabwe and the USA post-2005. Both novels are written in English and their authors are both African by birth.

About halfway through Things Fall Apart, Ekwefi (one of Okonkwo’s wives) tells a story about a tortoise and the birds who have a feast in the sky. I think that NoViolet Bulawayo has borrowed from this little story and weaved it into We Need New Names. There are other scenes, images and thoughts in Things Fall Apart that make the two novels interesting for parallel reading most notably in how different groups of people (towns, tribes, nations, religions, races) respond to other cultures and about tolerating (or not!) their vastly different ways of life.

What both novels do well is to lay out the beautiful and the ugly nitty gritties that underpin the rules and regulations and daily functioning of specific communities and cultures. In Things Fall Apart, Okonkwo is not the most sympathetic character and there are many views and actions that may grate on your personal worldview. And that’s the point. Covering a century of time, reading these two novels together is a wonderful experience. In some ways, it's a tragedy that  hundreds of years later, there are still so many overlaps.

A little heads up especially for younger readers: Susan Cooper’s Ghost Hawk is set in the USA and has many parallels with Things Fall Apart too. Adults who have an inclination towards comparative reading and discussion might want to check that out too.

 

Classics Club verdict

 

Things Fall Apart is also on our Classics Club challenge list. Little M and I have been drawing our own conclusions about what we think a 'literary' classic is. Of course, Things Fall Apart has its feet firmly planted in the African canon and has made tracks in European and American canons too. Our own 'canon' is more about whether we enjoyed some aspect of it enough to recommend it to readers from another generation. Things Fall Apart ticks the box for me.

 

My copy’s publication details: 1987, Heinemann African Writers Series, London, paperback

Classics Club Spin #3

Classics Club Spin – August 2013

This might be the Classics Club’s third spin but it’s our first! Hosted by the Classics Club, the idea is to choose 20 books we haven’t yet read from our original Classics Club Challenge list – and list them. On 19 August, the Classics Club will spin the bottle (or something) to pick a number from 1-20.  The number picked is matched to the corresponding book title on our spin list and we need to read that book by 1 October.

The idea is to include some titles that might challenge us. We’re both going to try and read the same book, so this list was jointly selected - rather quickly too! You’ll see that a couple of numbers have two titles next to them. That’s because Little M really wants to read them but M’s already read them for the Challenge so the second title is M’s option. And of course, not all of these books are on our shelves either, so getting them in good time will be another challenge!

Our spin list

Because we’re scared of them (but have them both):

1. Black Beauty – Anna Sewell
2. Ulysses – James Joyce

New for Little M (but dreaded re-reads for M so obviously we don’t have these):

3. Lord of the Flies – William Golding
4. The Hobbit – JRR Tolkien

Never got around to reading (yes, we have them):

5. Jock of the Bushveld – Percy Fitzpatrick
6. Alice in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll
7. Brave New World – Aldous Huxley

M’s Old favourites (re-reads for M so have them all; new for Little M)

8. Thunderhead – Mary O’Hara
9. A Wizard of Earthsea – Ursula le Guin
10. A Dream of Sadler’s Wells – Lorna Hill
11. The Chocolate War – Robert Cormier
12. Nineteen Eighty-Four – George Orwell

Because we want to (have most):

13. To Kill a Mockingbird – Harper Lee / Emil and the Detectives – Erich Kastner
14. The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas – John Boyne
15. Tamar – Mal Peet

Old classics (have all):

16. Jane Eyre – Charlotte Bronte
17. Wuthering Heights – Emily Bronte / The Trial – Franz Kafka

Playful! (no, we don’t have them):

18. Hamlet - Shakespeare
19. Othello - Shakespeare
20. Waiting for Godot - Samuel Beckett

 

The Catcher in the Rye - M's review

The Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger

Classics Club Review by M

The Catcher in the Rye is narrated by Holden Caulfield. He starts off by saying that he’s not going to tell us too much. And he doesn’t. It’s a short novel (about 200 pages, small type though) and the plot covers just a few days - a few days that he tells us covers some “madman” stuff when he’s just been dropped by his private Pennsylvanian prep school for failing too many subjects. He’s not too keen to tell his parents and, with only himself to blame, things go a bit haywire for him.

I first read The Catcher in the Rye when I was thirteen and just about to finish primary school. My English teacher had recommended it to me and apparently I loved it so much that my parents bought me my own copy as a gift nearly ten years later. That also means the copy I read must have been lent to me from either the teacher or the library.

I can hazard guesses at what I liked about it so much then: teenage angst and rebellion would be at the top of the list; chunting about the state of people living in the world around me would be another; and it was possibly the first plot thin novel I’d ever read.

So what did I think now?

For the first few chapters I was a bit sceptical about the story. Holden doesn’t like anyone and he’s overly caustic and rude in his judgements about them. I can see why many readers see him as an unsympathetic character. Despite some unpleasant content, it’s nevertheless a smooth read (which is surprising because there are hardly any paragraphs!) and I wanted to read on. Having read it before, I should have known what happens (but I’d forgotten the whole thing completely!) and I thought that someone was going to get hurt – I just didn’t know who or how. I read it quickly and more-or-less in one go. However, if it was a new read and if it hadn’t been a cult classic, I might have skipped out on finishing it. I’m glad I stuck with it though.

By the end, I'd warmed to Holden hugely. Yes, he’s rich and abuses his privileges, and yes he’s rude about people. But, I suspect his character was a pretty accurate portrayal of someone in his position at that time. On the surface, he’s sexist too but underneath (and when it really counts) he actually treats girls far better than any of his friends: he’s torturing himself about stopping when someone says ‘no’ (although I’m not giving him too many brownie points because he does this out of cowardice rather than for any loftier reasons). There are a number of other things that suggest Holden is a nicer person than he seems so maybe his name calling all those ‘phoneys’ and ‘jerks’ around him are justified.

I’m not saying what happens in the novel other than there really isn’t too much plot. The Catcher in the Rye is all about Holden’s state-of-mind from his point-of-view. If you can cope with all the slodgy murk that goes with that, you’ll probably like the novel.

First published in 1951, and regarded by many as one of the first novels about the ‘teenage condition’ (if there is one), The Catcher in the Rye has been both revered and reviled and repeatedly finds itself on a number of ‘banned’ and ‘challenged’ lists. Of course, there’s the language: lots of swearing and references to sex but ‘sexual intercourse’ and ‘goddam’ are as strong as it gets, so language-wise it’s tame in comparison to some of today’s YA fiction. And of course, Salinger didn’t write with a teen nor a politically correct audience in mind, which I think is a strength. The most surprising thing about The Catcher in the Rye, is that while it could be seen as a very despairing story, ultimately, to me, it is a very hopeful novel.

I think I can see why my teacher recommended it to thirteen year old me: not least would have been that it was a highly challenged book! Interestingly, I don’t know if my copy is a censored edition or not.  I wouldn’t say that I loved reading it a second time round but overall, I enjoyed it and liked it much more than I was expecting. I would recommend it to older teens or younger readers that I knew for all sorts of different reasons. The writing style is likely to be quite different to most other novels they've read.

Some key issues in the novel include teenage angst and rebellion, belonging, sex (including prostitution), education, depression, suicide, death, privilege, adult/child relationships and (possibly) grief.

 

Publication details: 1958, Penguin, London (first published 1951)

This copy: my own (Easter gift from my parents).

 

The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole aged 13 ¾ - M's Classics Review

The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole aged 13 ¾  by Sue Townsend

 

Reviewed by M - especially for our Classics Club Challenge

The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole aged 13 ¾ has followed me around for years but I’d never read it. Having achieved what seems like cult status, I popped it onto our Classics Club reading list and I thought a humorous read for our 24 hour readathon would be good. So I bought a copy (the 30^th anniversary edition) and I’ve read it.

It’s written in diary form and we get to hear all the ins and outs of Adrian Mole as he enters his teenage years in 1980s Britain. Did I like it? Not especially and nowhere near as much as I'd wanted. Did it make me laugh out loud? Yes, but not as much as I wanted it too. I wanted it to make me laugh so that tears rolled down my cheeks. It didn’t do this. For other people it might (and has!). Bit of a let down for me.....but my initial expectations were very high.

Would I recommend it to anyone else I know? My expressive face is screwing up and twisting all over the place in answer to that. Probably not. Depends on who you are and what you want. If you want to read something that defies political correctness - probably (some of the honesty is one of its strengths). If you want something that’s funny – perhaps: there are lots of funny bits but it felt like the sort of humour you find in stand up comedies or sitcoms – a bit stilted and obviously placed. Lots of one liners (for me, one of its weaknesses). 

I’m sure a teacher tried to read this novel to us in primary school – but we didn’t live in Britain. I didn’t ‘get it’ back then and now I think I understand why. At heart, it’s a satire and like so many satires, it is very idiosyncratic. I often find satires too self-indulgent. If you’re researching British 1980s or lived through it, maybe you should read it. You might like it a lot more than I did.

Characterwise, I’m not sure I especially liked Adrian Mole. Apparently, he’s supposed to be an endearing character. For me, he wasn’t. There was too much about him that was unbelievable. For example, he’s a real hypochondriac; I’ve never met anyone who gets house calls from doctors so much - especially for spots! Also, the situation with Adrian visiting the old man Bert: I don’t think Adrian would have behaved that way – I think he’d have told the school and handed the responsibility of Bert back to them. I also think he was made out to be older than he actually was. His ‘voice’ sounded like an adult’s not a young teen's. This, along with the political satire and the one liners, suggested a lot of authorial presence.

Would I read the next book in the Adrian Mole series? No. It wasn't really my cup of tea - but then, I don't really like tea either!

Verdict: A classic? I’m on the fence. I don’t think it scores highly on many points of literary merit (what those are, of course, is always in debate) but I think it might be a classic example of humorous fiction that points political fingers at 1980s Britain. In this sense, it could go down as classic or cult. In the sense of it being passed on to generations of readers, it looks like some readers already do  this. After all, I found it on the shelves of two small local bookshops thirty-one years after its original publication! But, I don’t think I’m going to be one of those readers.

 

Publication details:

First published 1982
This copy: 2012, Penguin, London, paperback, my own copy that I bought (wish I'd borrowed it from the library!).

Wuthering Heights - M's review

Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte

 

Reviewed by M

Heathcliff and Cathy. I’ve known them forever – at least I thought I did! Honestly, I’m not sure if I’d ever read all of Wuthering Heights before. I know I’d started it – at least once and given up on it. Now, I’ve done it and can add it to my Classics Club reading list. I am pleased that I read it.

Quite simply, Wuthering Heights is about a relationship, begun in childhood, between Heathcliff and Catherine. When this relationship becomes forbidden, Heathcliff, who has been poorly treated, develops an obsessive plan of revenge.

However, the novel is not quite that simple. For example, I didn’t previously realise that the novel has two parts and that there is more than one Heathcliff and more than one Cathy! The novel is also about the relationship between two neighbouring families, the Earnshaws and the Lintons (depending on how you view him that will include Heathcliff; otherwise Heathcliff is a third).

Wuthering Heights was a bit of an uphill read for me partly because of the language, partly because of the characters, and partly because of the plot.

Published in 1847, it is set between around 1770 and 1801 in the Yorkshire moors. As with so many of the older classics, it takes me a while to slip into the language probably because I don’t read them enough for the language usage to become familiar (so my brain has to work a little bit harder to read them). Some of the characters also speak in old Yorkshire dialect (not too frequently!) and some of that I just had to skip because it was like another language and I was too lazy to try and figure it out (although be warned, some of it contains important details and you may occasionally find the need to backtrack).

I was also very busy trying to follow who was narrating the story. It starts off being narrated by Lockwood who is the new tenant of Thrushcross Grange. But then Nelly takes over and tells Lockwood the story of Catherine and Heathcliff who lived in a nearby house called Wuthering Heights. At times, it switches back to Lockwood and then a couple of times it is someone else. It also didn’t help that a few characters shared the same names, used intermittently as forenames and surnames; or that Nelly changes her ways of addressing people! I got mixed up quite a few times about which Catherine, Linton, Earnshaw or Heathcliff was being talked about! A very incestuously intermingled story and narration.

For me, Wuthering Heights is a very dark novel with very little plot. It’s an example of a gothic novel: despairingly gloomy in every way and yes, with a hint of ghosts too. The novel has two main settings: the properties of Wuthering Heights and Thrushcross Grange. Occasionally, it moves onto the moors but hardly ever and usually only to go between the two houses. The pace is also very slow. Plotwise, it improved towards the end although it constantly exasperated me and the actual ending seemed rushed and out of place. 

I didn’t like any of the characters really. I definitely wasn’t drawn to Heathcliff. Although he is treated appallingly, his behaviour in turn is shocking. I found Cathy annoying (more so the first than the second; perhaps Nelly’s narration may have had something to do with that – the first Cathy was not her favourite). Lockwood as a character is alright but his main role seems to be as a framing device for telling the story. Nelly as a character might be quite pleasant although I have questions over how reliable she is – there were clues that she was deliberately painting a dark picture of Cathy; of course, we could say that Lockwood may have been less reliable and upstanding than he suggests).

It's hotly debated but many people refer to Wuthering Heights as a passionate romance.

I’m in the camp asserting that it is not a romance.  I’m not even sure I’d say it was passionate – obsessive, yes. Is that gothic style romance?!

This copy was gladly received for review from Oxford University Press - thank you. It’s a hardback edition in their Children’s Classics range. It has a pretty cover (although on seeing it, Little M thought that Heathcliff might actually be a horse!) and the novel’s text is in a big, clear, easy-to-read font. It’s definitely an accessible edition for a children's classic and there’s a little bit of extra information at the back (but only a little).

Is Wuthering Heights a children’s classic? Well, there’s nothing to mark it as one but there's also no reason children should not read it and including it in a children's classic list certainly opens up literature for them. They might well enjoy the ghastliness of the characters! For many, I suspect, the language will be a challenge.

 

Some small but SPOILERY thoughts and questions:

 

Why are dogs so badly treated in this novel?

Is Heathcliff a murderer? I’ve seen this question somewhere and it’s a good one. I think the answer is no but that yes is a distinct possibility (of the first Mr Earnshaw, not Catherine).

Was Earnshaw Heathcliff’s father? I suspect yes or that he was the son of a very close friend.

Was Heathcliff haunted before Edgar Linton died?

Was Heathcliff deranged, a product of his mistreatment, or just a really horrible person? I’d ask similar questions of Linton Heathcliff.

 

Was the first Catherine a bit silly?

Weren’t they all just suffering from a very long case of cabin fever?

Plotwise, there were a couple of surprises. For example, when Cathy has a baby. I didn’t even realise she was pregnant! Perhaps I’d skipped something along the way?

I did think there was a small chance that someone may have topped Heathcliff.

 

Publication details: Oxford University Press, 2013, Oxford, Hardback
This copy: received for review from the publisher

 

To Kill A Mockingbird - M's review

To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee

I first read To Kill A Mockingbird at school when I was sixteen. Like The Beadle, I noted on my Reading list that it was ‘OK’. But, again like The Beadle, I’ve always recalled enjoying them. I could never remember all the details but something about them had played around in my head. Now, I’ve just reread To Kill A Mockingbird for my Classics Club challenge. It’s my second reread for leisure ever (The Beadle was my first!). And I loved it.

To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee

For those readers who are not familiar with To Kill A Mockingbird, it’s a story about the events that led to a thirteen year old boy breaking his elbow. It’s set in a 1930s small town in Alabama, USA. The story is narrated by Scout (aka Jean Louise Finch), who is probably a grown woman when she recounts a story about a time when she was eight years old, living with her brother, Jem, and her father, Atticus, who is a lawyer about to defend a Negro who has been accused of a crime for which the punishment is death. Scout’s story is about growing up, perpetuating social prejudices and standing up to  them too.  She doesn’t hide anything in her story (as least I don’t think she does) but she realises that much was hidden from her.

Racial prejudice is an obvious and substantial theme in the novel and one that I remembered from my earlier reading. What I had forgotten (and possibly not even have understood that brilliantly!) were the other prejudices and social mores that the novel explores, criticises and humours. The children’s tormenting and embellishing stories about reclusive Boo Radley is an obvious one. Disabilities and social class are others. Gender and growing up as a girl in a society that expects you to turn into ‘a lady’ is another one, and as it is Scout who is narrating, this is probably more a central thread of this novel than racial prejudice (but, I also spot gender issues more - remember, this review is my narrative). All of these themes and sub-plots are woven together in a very charming yet slightly shivery way.

The majority of the characters in the novel are very likeable. Very. Apart from the few who are horrid (Atticus definitely loves more people than I do).  Jem is lovely. Scout is adorable and gives voice to frustrations that must plague many girls (and boys too) – like what you should wear, how you should behave, what you can and can’t do – just because you are a girl as opposed to a boy. Within this context, it’s hardly surprising then that rape features. While only lightly explored as an issue, this is not in a dismissive way. While all the characters are reluctant to speak about it, including Atticus, Atticus also makes it clear that it is a crime that concerns him and is bigger than what is being voiced. And Atticus of course, is the novel’s moral compass.

The novel is full of heroes. There’s Scout, in her many flawed guises. There’s the real, heartbreakingly tragic hero who we don’t learn too much about – but we learn enough. And of course, there’s Atticus Finch. Scout’s father embodies the real hero in this novel. He’s almost perfect (in my eyes, maybe he would be if he didn’t side with Aunt Alexandra a little too much: that’s the Scout in me lurching out!) but he’s not Superman. Throughout the novel, more than I’ve pointed out, there are lots of interesting bits that explore the concepts of cowardice and bravery.

While the lighthearted daily fun and games and mishaps that happen to adventurous eight and twelve year olds fill the pages to provide humour, the novel instils a sense of foreboding that traverses many of the sub or parallel plots in the story: what bad thing is going to happen at the Radley place, who’s going to get hurt or killed, will Tom get off, who is to blame? Once you’ve finished the novel, go back and read the first three paragraphs again. Scout and Jem are offering up different explanations and interpretations. Atticus of course, is the judge!

This sense of foreboding is partly heightened by the slow pace of the novel. The focus in this novel is definitely on the characters and themes. There is a lot of plot but it meanders lazily over a couple of summers. The novel is a bit like the hot, sleepy town that is its Maycomb setting.

To Kill A Mockingbird is one of those novels that some people would describe as a very quotable novel: Dill’s mixed up comment about joining the circus because people are laughable ; Scout’s view that there is only one type of people: everyone; Atticus on why we shouldn’t kill a mockingbird.

It is also a very sad novel. It passes commentary based on real events where sadness understates how terrible they were and it is also sad when you think about how we make judgements about people and things and act on these. Atticus would say that’s exactly what is wrong with circumstantial evidence.

I can see why it’s studied at school. There is so much packed into this shortish book that you could discuss it forever both as a literary work but especially for the themes that run through it. But, if you’re like me and find that reading a set text at school ruins the pleasure of reading a novel for you, then make sure you read this before it comes up at school – or reread it when you’re older, like I have. To Kill A Mockingbird has not only jumped from OK for me, it’s probably gone to one of my all time favourite novels. I’m a bit sad to have finished it. Harper Lee should have written a sequel.

For any teens who were interested in the death penalty debates raised in Annabel Pitcher’s Ketchup Clouds, To Kill A Mockingbird will be right up your street.

 

My Classics Club verdict: Not that anyone would believe me if I said otherwise but definitely it’s a classic. Wonderful in so many ways.

 

(Gosh; that was a bit long. It’s so I don’t forget why I liked it so much. Or what things it made play around in my head. For when I’m old and really grey – or just forgetful.)

Publication details: 2004, Vintage, London, paperback (first published 1960)

This copy: my own