To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf

Stupidly Simple Synopsis: Family and guests on a holiday by sea. Years pass and some of original characters return to house. 

I have never read anything like this. Ever. It is hard to be drawn in by plot, the events drift along at the change of the tide. I did not wish to read it constantly and obsessively. Yet, it put a spell on me in such a way that the cliched phrase is justified. As I read it, it felt... almost 'delicious'. I wanted to consume the words and let them wash over my hypnotised mind. The language is so beautiful and very visual. Ingrained on my mind is an image of the house. I imagine the flaking paint and sand on bare floorboards and fading rugs and shells. Perhaps reading it on holiday helped!

I could not read Woolf all the time, I think it would strangely alter your reality. Reading this book made me think a lot about myself and what its like in my head compared to others. The seamless slipping from character to character causes you to identify and dislike them almost equally. Internal monologues all seem to be diffused through the filter of Virginia Woolf or an ethereal narrator borrowing from people's thoughts. They are at once their own thoughts, as well as sharing a vague wholeness of one complete person.

There was also an intriguing use of brackets to record deaths. It changed the weight of importance from real, tragic events to the general, continual passage of time. There was one whole chapter that was in brackets (designed to confuse yours truly, who hunted the whole chapter for the second bracket unsuccessfully, before finding it at the end).

Some people think holiday reads should be light books that you can easily dip into without worrying your brain too much. Personally, this could be the perfect holiday book. Not only is it about holidays(!) but it has a dreamlike feel that could go perfectly with lounging on the beach. However, as it is no longer summer, I would urge you to pick it up now anyway!!

Hamlet

This play is brilliant. Honestly, it has completely dispelled any apprehension I had about Shakespeare. That he was too difficult to read. Or that he actually wasn’t very good. I could so clearly understand and see his genius, far more than in Romeo and Juliet. Hamlet’s monologues really were the highlight, debating issues of death and life and morality and madness.

There was also the usual helping of innuendos. One in particular was rather shocking and made very obvious by David Tennant (in the BBC adaptation). As a play it seems an odd thing to read it when so much of the presentation comes from seeing it acted. Perhaps because of this I found that as I read it, I wanted to read it aloud and act it. This is surely also proof of the realism of the characters (well a kind of fictional realism, not the kind of realism you might get in a novel nowadays). It was so open to interpretation too. “My Hamlet” was subdued and depressed, Tennant’s was more violent.

I guess the real question that comes with this play, is “Is Hamlet mad?” and I refuse to answer it! Please offer your ideas and comments, because I honestly feel I should reread it, looking closely at the text, ignoring all other interpretations, to come to a conclusion. I simply don’t have enough time!

One element of the plot that I felt a little unsure about was the very small Fortinbras line. To me, it didn’t offer much, other than a setting of war. I suppose this may have made some of Hamlet’s observations more potent. I mean, who am I to doubt Shakespeare? He’s like Britain’s one claim to fame that could probably trump all others. So you’ve got Michael Jackson? Well we’ve got Shakespeare.

The rest of the LORD OF THE RINGS

I have already written about the first book and, because I read the last two consecutively and because they were all intended to be read as one (and because I’m lazy) I have combined those books into one post.

The first thing to note is that I enjoyed them so much more than the first one, even though I didn’t even dislike the first. Tolkien is one of those authors who seems, to me, oblivious of his audience. He is genuinely enjoying adventuring in his own world and will not apologise for relishing in details or for having five chapters of relative joy after the ring is destroyed. I think this is what makes the books so popular. There is an amazingly real world presented to you to discover and explore – what could be more exciting?!

I think it may have been slightly anti-climactic once Frodo and Sam entered Mordor though. Apart from the emphasis on their weariness it all seemed a little easy (well, sort of easy). There was never any great confrontation with Sauron either. I don’t think we even find out what he looks like. For me, though, this was probably necessary. To keep him hidden and disembodied makes him appear a far greater threat. Instead, I would have liked a battle of Frodo vs His Conscience on Mount Doom. His loyalty to Sam would have made him overcome the desire for the ring and it would have been a display of the glory of friendship. I’m wrong though, it’s far neater for it to be Gollum that causes the ring’s destruction. It’s also a testament to the ring’s power that it was really only an accident that destroyed it.

The story of Eowyn jarred a little with me, as did the lack of women, though I suppose I should not expect a contemporary take on women considering the time it was written. I just thought, even with her defying her father and desiring to fight, her reasons seemed twisted. It seemed that she only wanted the glory that a man can get and thus, as she was the only strong female representative, it seemed that this was a reflection on all females. Moreover, the end of her story, of marriage and becoming a healer, seemed to say “She’s learnt that women aren’t suited to battle now and has instead fickly and femininely fallen in love.” Oh I love getting feministly riled on the odd occasion.

Basically, they were undoubtedly brilliant books and the first epic adventure novels I’ve read in a while, but they reminded me of my love for that genre, especially when so beautifully written.

A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain

Please stick with this book, you will be missing out on one of the most bizarre and hilarious scenes in any novel ever if you don’t read to the end! Honestly, this book could drag, but there are some utterly brilliant anachronisms that really make it worthwhile.

As the title rather explicitly suggests, this novel plants a (for Twain) modern American, in the time of one of Britain’s greatest legends, and basically causes chaos! The novel begins with quite a sense of adventure; how will he survive? What will he do? But it quickly becomes apparent that these knights are way too stupid to be of any threat and are easily manipulated into business making tools. Then come the telegrams and coal mines and soap adverts which make this novel so uniquely obscure. Just the images created by this collision of two cultures, one so stuck in legend and tradition that to destroy it is utter glee, are brilliant.

However, there is a lot of economic and political discussion that comes. This may be the most intellectually meritable thing about this book and I did enjoy the questions that were raised. Despite this, when it comes in the form of frustrating one-sided conversations it can become, for someone who knows little about these subjects, monotonous.

Like I said at the beginning though, stick it out, because you will be missing out on more of Twain’s humour. I shall leave you with a little taste of what to expect of this book:

“She had no more idea than a horse how to photograph a procession; but being in doubt, it was just like her to try to do it with an axe.”

POSTS TILL TUESDAY!!

I can promise you now that there will be a post a day for the next three days, which is an amazing feat of regularity for me, so enjoy it whilst it lasts!! 

I'd also like to really encourage you to comment (I'm so sorry for nagging you, if this feels like nagging, I am not your mother). However, I'm sure your mother would really love it if you did comment because it would make my day.

P.S If you do comment please follow the one golden rule: Be nice.

The Town in Bloom

Dodie Smith may be the author of 101 Dalmations, but don’t be expecting fur clad villains and adorable puppies in this simple story of youth and romance.

First, please appreciate the beautiful cover. Isn’t it nice? Quite apart from the cover, I picked it up because of the brilliance of another of her novels, “I Captured the Castle”, but it didn’t have the same delight. In fact, it was bordering on the dreaded genre of ‘Chick Lit’ which, although I have little experience of, I know that it is not for me!

The main character, “Mouse”, tries to become an actress and ends up as a secretary in a theatre. Here she meets the famous, but aging, Rex Crossway and (inevitably) falls in love. She has the courage and stupidity to push herself onto him which can be very cringey, particularly as I didn’t even like Rex. His womanising ways were just accepted as part of him, as if they were inherited and inescapable, leaving him blameless. By the end of the novel he effectively had three women running around after him and, worst of all, they were all aware of it! I found his character a little pathetic without any redeeming sense of morality. I could have coped with this, if I felt that there was a reason for it, if it seemed to be making some kind of valid social comment; I don’t have to like characters! However, it felt as if you were supposed to fall in love with Mr Crossway too.

The book ended slipping forward into old age. I think the combination of how unsatisfactorily their lives turned out and the skipping of many years seemed to say that after youth, nothing is monumental or exciting. How cheery.

Despite all this, if I squinted as I read so as to blind myself to the things I disagreed with, I could enjoy this novel. It was a nice break from some of the heavier stuff I have read, without descending into some of those mindlessly churned out novels!

Just a quick note to say I hope to be uploading blog posts quite regularly over the next week, as I have a ton of books stored up to write about. It would be really great if you took the time to comment if you find something interesting, or even if you disagree with me! Thank you for reading J

Lady Chatterley's Lover

I expected passion and lust for life, but the book delivered the complete opposite. It documents Lady Chatterley's disillusionment with the world which she effectively makes up for with sex. The love is so impersonal and yet we are told it is rare and special. It gives little hope for a happy functioning relationship where one can actually talk with and get to know their partner. Smothering the plot, is a sense of doom at the modern world and man's impression upon the earth with its metal and coal and dirt. Reading it in 2013 I began to be almost insulted at the "slagging off" of modern life. I guess it was meaningful in the way that human's are ruining the earth and so on, but there was so little hope expressed in this novel. Positive notions were only really extended to Lady Chatterley and her lover; everything else was made to seem fake or trivial or uncivilized or unreal or plain ridiculous. I found the book much more of a commentary on society than a love story, which, for me, was a little disappointing, however interesting it was.

This sense of gloom was achieved extremely well and it impacted strongly upon me. I sometimes wonder if when an author so skillfully creates negative feelings that a reader dislikes reading a book or absolutely abhors a character, it is a good thing or not. I suppose if that is what they set out to achieve, then it is just a display of their writing talent.

So basically, if you know what to expect, this novel is interesting and definitely worth a read, but don't be foolish like me and expect a nice romantic novel!!

Happy Endings?

I used to think that happy endings were for fairytales and though I certainly preferred one, it was wrong to do so. However, particularly after reading 'Atonement' by Ian McEwan, I have changed my mind. I no longer think books with sad or inconclusive endings are any more profound than those that end happily (there are some exceptions where a happy ending would be all wrong). In 'Atonement' the narrator is a character in the story, but she is writing the events as a novel. At the end there is a section in first person from this narrator about her life outside the novel. She confesses to have given her sister and herself a happier ending in the book than in real life, and so it got me thinking about endings.

When I refer to a 'happy ending' it does not have to be love and marriage and happily ever after lets drive off and win the lottery, I just mean something with some optimism. One of my oldest arguments in favour of such an ending,  is that the author is in control. They are showing us a period of time and can extend or shorten that time to suit themselves, I'm convinced that if they carried on a story for long enough, or less convincingly, ended it earlier, a positive ending is always possible. Even if there is a zombie apocalypse and all life on earth is wiped out, you could fast forward to see new life born on the planet giving hope for a better world.  

Alternatively, just a sentence of optimism could turn around a novel. Perhaps a character reflects fondly on a past event or has an ounce of hope for the future. This could count as a compromise surely! Or maybe just a nod to the 'circle of life' could improve matters.

However, this could be construed as 'cheesy' or not reflecting the true nature of life. It could ruin the tone of a wholly depressing novel which is about a disillusionment with man. This I can understand. 

But what is it I want from an ending, and why do I so much want a happy one? I have read books with underlying melancholy tones and just to peter out with that flatness is, quite frankly, depressing. I read another book in which it flashed forward to the old age of the young women in the book. To see that her life had not improved much, or been what she hoped and that she had little chance in the future to change this, was also depressing (probably more realistic, but shh)! I think what I do want from an ending, even if it is a solidly bleak one, is a satisfying conclusion. Frankenstein, from what I remember, does not have a cheery ending, with the creature becoming bezzies with old Frankenstein and appologising for killing half of Frankie's friends and relations. However, there is some kind of perverse satisfaction to them chasing each other across the globe to the end. It works. And so, happy or sad or just vague, that is what I want, an ending that works.

What do you think? I would be really interested to here other views on this topic :)

Rebecca

(This contains more spoilers than usual, especially one in big capital letters which you might be best to avoid...)

This is the first novel I have read recently that I have 'devoured' even if the beginning dream sequence at a deserted Manderley did little to excite me, though I do think my delight in romances  helped. However, even for someone who enjoys a soppy old romance, I was torn in two by the character of Maxim.

The similarities with Jane Eyre are obvious, but I so much preferred Mr Rochester to Maxim. I think this is because Rochester is so attentive to Jane and you can understand his disdain for his wife, whereas Maxim is really distant and, in case anybody didn't notice, he KILLED his wife. It frustrated me how little weight was given to this horrifying fact and yet that is part of the author's technique. The idea of being compared to Rebecca has pervaded the narrator's life and tormented her so much, that to find out Maxim did not care for her is a huge relief, even, you know, if he happens to be a MURDERER!!! I suppose in order to translate the horror/shock of the attempted bigamy in Jane Eyre, for a more modern audience, Daphne du Maurier chose murder. 

There is some suspense throughout the book, the most creepy being an incident in Rebecca's preserved bedroom. The underwear that is still laid out on the bed, and the touching of her old clothes comes across as rather perverse. It was not pleasant, but that improved the novel by giving it this underlying unease. 

I was more than a little frustrated by the naivety of the narrator: it did not take me long to realise Rebecca's real character whereas it took her practically the whole book. Maybe this is intentional as it shows the reader how Rebecca's cruelty is outliving her death. However, in terms of character development, I found her a little annoying. The lack of a name is interesting too, much like 'Curley's wife' in 'Of Mice and Men' it emphasises her insignificance. In this case, the prominence of Rebecca, particularly her initials and her first name, contrast with the lack of a name, to show the feeling that she is simply inadequately replacing the previous Mrs de Winter. 

I would highly recommend this novel as it is really different to other books I have read. I would also recommend the film by Alfred Hitchcock, in which Laurence Olivier manages to soften out the faults of Maxim that I disliked originally (probably simply with that ridiculously cute moustache). 

The Importance of Being Earnest

I don't often laugh at books. They can be mildly amusing and cause my lips to turn a little upwards from there fixed concentration, but not often do I venture out into the world of noise and resort to laughter. Yet, reading this play, I did. 

Honestly, the ridiculous overblown supposedly profound statements of the characters are genuinely hilarious. Everyone goes on these strange tangents and argue about the most obscure details. It's almost like a Shakespearean battle of words. What's more, the plot is so neatly organised even in its apparent waywardness, that when everything comes together at the end it creates the most brilliantly funny conclusion.

The best thing is how the characters dare to be so absurd and shallow while putting on grand, arrogant facades. Sure, you don't care about them one bit, but for someone like me, who often finds comedy not as funny as it should be because when the man falls over the banana skin you wonder if he hurt himself, it really does help!

Really do give it a go, it's a really easy quick read, being a play, and I think would be a great sunny summer read (if we had some sun).

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The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

I have always intended to read ‘Lord of the Rings’: it’s a well recommended classic, and I believed I would enjoy it. However, somehow I never seemed to get round to it… until now! It seems in the last few months I have been exposed to more Tolkien-related things than ever before, it’s partially due to the release of ‘The Hobbit’ film, but also several people I have met seemed to hold the book in some kind of holy esteem. With a clutch of book vouchers I entered W H Smiths and decided to act.

After several weeks I have finally conquered the first novel; can I have a gold star? I really feel I deserve one after the length of time it took me to read it! It wasn't even that I didn't enjoy it; I think it was just the kind of book that bumbles along and is deceptively longer than it seems.  My copy seemed to have a devious size font that was only a little smaller than usual, but seemed capable of cramming a whole lot more words on one page. Moreover, Tolkien’s style is in detail. He does not skim over things, the length of the journey is felt and reflected by the length of the novel. As I read, I thought that modern editors may have told Tolkien to scrap the descriptions of travelling and cut to the action. At the same time, Tolkien’s loving immersion into Middle Earth makes him eager to explain the history of the characters and their relations in depth. The amount of times I read “so-and-so son of so-and-so” was unbelievable and each time my head cried am I supposed to recognise any of these names from earlier? My nature is to really understand a book, I like to have everything plotted out in my mind as I read, so the information overload was sometimes a little too much for me. Moreover, I am not geographically minded, so every time someone went east of the mountains and ended up south of the woods I was hopelessly lost. And yes. That was even after consulting the maps.

Now that I have ended my excuses for taking so long to read it, I’d like to say how much I enjoyed it. My favourite chapter was at Lothlorien, because it seemed so beautiful and the description so rich and yet minimal enough to simply prompt my imagination into conjuring my own images. When I watched the film afterwards, I was amazed by the beauty of the Lothlorien portrayed, but it was on epic, filmic scales far from the simple, ancient society I imagined. To me, Rivendell is more architectural, whereas Lothlorien is a more natural place with more ancient traditions.

My preconceived ideas of The Lord of the Rings, was of gruesome bloody battles, displays of manliness, horrifying monsters and events on epic scales. The book had traits of all of these and yet was much more enjoyable than I expected, in that the story was not simply led by a desire for action, but also an in depth admiration of surroundings and people. However, the film had too much unwashed, long male hair for my liking, causing Legolas’ groomed locks to become increasingly refreshing!

I am looking forward to reading the next book, but am currently taking a strategic break with the rather contrasting ‘Bridget Jones’ Diary’!

Read -iscovering Jane Eyre

Is that title a really bad pun? Probably shouldn't even bother with that question...

Basically, at the moment I am studying Jane Eyre, therefore I am reading it for the second time. I read it once when I was a few years younger and I did enjoy it, simply as a love story, but now it has been raised to a higher status for me. There is so much symbolism, so many fires, and holding hands, and saying things without really saying them... I appreciate it so much more now. 

Also, I am really  beginning to identify with Jane. Her quiet, strong reserve is something that some characters in the book are perturbed by, yet I completely understand and often exhibit the same behaviour. Probably the chapter in which Jane is most like me, is when Miss Ingram and her posse stay at Thornfield and Jane sits watching them. She feels she has no right to be involved and in most ways does not feel the need to involve herself, yet I sense her discomfort at being on the edge of something. It would be wrong to say I feel like this all the time, but occasionally there are those moments where there seems to be a divide between me and the people around me. 

I think the understanding of Jane is something the reader can latch onto. In some books, Wuthering Heights is a prime example, the characters are beyond identification on a personal level. Instead of feeling with them, you are inclined to watch them. It is a different experience and one which some people may prefer, as you can distance yourself and look at the general issues and ideas without being forced into a particularly angle. However, I often prefer to connect with a character and experience a story with them. It gives a more biased view and generally leads to a more focused writing style, but this is my preference. 

What do you want from a book? Do you have to like the characters? Do you even have to understand them?

The Secret Countess

The stunning cover

STUPIDLY SIMPLISTIC SYNOPSIS: Countess works in big house. Earl falls in love with her. They get married against all odds.

Since the age of 12 'The Secret Countess' has remained my favourite book. It is a book I can devour in hours and that I have affectionately reread. However, some may say that it is flawed and no more than average. Although in some aspects I would be forced to agree, I continue to faithfully adore it!

It is set after WWI in a large country house in England. Perhaps the time is somewhat inaccurately described, but the rose-tinted world Ibbotson paints is so picturesque, that it needn't belong to the past, but instead to a fairytale. It seems as if Ibbotson desires a world of ideals and wishes her audience to believe in it too. And I do believe in fairytales, I do, I do! However, if you don't (and shame on you) if you like a tragic, gritty love story, then perhaps you will find fault with this. Perhaps you will crush the loving portrait of Russia and replace it with a bloodier, revolution torn country. Historically, you would be more accurate, but in the context of this novel it would be so wrong!

The plot itself is, on the whole, unimaginative: boy meets girl, they fall in love and then something devastatingly rips them apart... only for them to be reunited a few pages later. Despite this, the intricacies are what make Eva Ibbotson such a brilliant writer. The individual strands of story: the moonlight meeting by the lake; the encounter in the hairdressers; are so deliciously beautiful that one can forget the lack of realism. Although Anna is a countess, we are led to believe that her integration into the world of service is comparatively smooth; that despite probably never having dressed herself, she develops the ability of hard work and obedience in minutes. This is again something the cynics can tear apart, but for a romantic like me, it just adds to the perfection.

The final element of the novel is the characters. They form an ensemble like that of a theatre, or in a family. Each have a position and a regard or respect for the other. They may lack depth, in fact they do not portray many negative characteristics, but that does not seem to matter. They are there for affection, for quirky individual traits that Ibbotson includes so lavishly; be it a certain regard for one's muscular development, or a tendency to take out one's ear trumpet to signal the end of a conversation. The main issue arises from the two star crossed lovers: Rupert and Anna. This book is certainly no feminist feast. Anna is spirited and strong in a way that allows her to bow down to men. Rupert, on the other hand, is absolved of all blame for the way he treats his fiance. He is 'ensnared' by another woman who we are taught to despise for one sole trait: a fascination with eugenics. But does it matter? I, for one, want to believe love can be so simple and perfect. 

So there you have it, a less complimentary than intended summary of my favourite book. The real reason I love this book is it manages to be peaceful and lovely without being blatantly stupid. It is no Mills and Boon. Ibbotson revels in a well turned phrase and delicate plot developments, even if the overall effect and profoundness is less stunning. 

Shiny New Blog

I have decided to write this blog to review and discuss anything I read.
Hope you enjoy :)