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Personal Pleasures

StuckinaBook All , 7 Comments

I’m currently, and slowly, reading Personal Pleasures by Rose Macaulay, one of the books I bought under Project 24. It’s a collection of paeans to the m
any and various delights Macaulay encounters in life – from believing to disbelieving, from doves in the chimney to improving the dictionary. It’s a hodge-podge, or perhaps a hotch-potch, and certainly good fun. It does feel a little over-written compared to Macaulay’s novels, with elaborate expressions and fanciful imagery. You can imagine Philip Sidney penning it, whilst not musing on Astrophel and Stella. Having said that, Macaulay delights in pulling the rug from under your feet, and each section has a little turning-point where she considers the flip-side.

This isn’t really a review of the book – that would be foolish, since I’m not even halfway yet – but I thought I’d treat you to one of the sections which tickled me. AND this prepares you for some Macaulay news coming later in the week…

‘Departure of Visitors’

An exquisite peace obtains: a drowsy, golden peace, flowing honey-sweet over my dwelling, soaking it, dripping like music from the walls, strowing the floors, like trodden herbs. A peace for gods, a divine emptiness.

Fair Quiet, have I found thee here,
And Innocence, thy Sister dear!
Mistaken long, I sought you then
In busy Companies of Men. . . .
Society is all but rude
To this delicious Solitude.

The easy chair spreads wide arms of welcome; the sofa stretches, guest-free; the books of gleam, brown and golden, buff and blue and maroon, from their shelves; they may strew the floor, the hairs, the couch, once more, lying ready to the hand. “I am afraid the room is rather littered….” The echo of the foolish words lingers on the air, is brushed away, dies forgotten, the air closes behind it. A heavy volume is heaved from its shelf on to the sofa. Silence drops like falling blossoms over the recovered kingdom from which pretenders have taken their leave.

What to do with all this luscious peace? It is a gift, a miracle, a golden jewel, a fragment of some gracious heavenly order, dropped to earth like some incredible strayed star. One’s life to oneself again. Dear visitors, what largesse have you given, not only in departing, but in coming, that we might learn to prize your absence, wallow the more exquisitely in the leisure of your not-being.

To-night we shall sleep deep. We need no more hope that you “have everything you want”; we know that you have, for you are safely home, and can get it from your kitchen if you haven’t. We send you blessing and God speed, and sink into our idle peace as into floods of down.

But you have unfortunately left behind you, besides peace, a fountain pen, a toothbrush, and a bottle of eye lotion with eye bath.

At Laski

StuckinaBook All , 14 Comments


If you’re familiar with Stuck-in-a-Book and my reading habits, you’ll know that it usually takes a while for books to work their way up the tbr pile. Understanding friends are very kind, and don’t complain, but Hayley (also known as Desperate Reader) will be pleased to finally read my thoughts on the book she very generously bestowed upon me: Love on the Supertax by Marghanita Laski. Truth be told, it might have been a loan originally, but Hayley sweetly said I could keep it. Crime does pay, it turns out.

Marghanita Laski is a name a lot of us know, and a lot more people encountered her through Persephone Books, who publish her novels The Village, Little Boy Lost, To Bed With Grand Music, and The Victorian Chaise-Longue. I’ve read the second and fourth of those, and haven’t quite been able to put my finger on what it is that defines Laski – those novels had little in common, and Love on the Supertax throws another tone into the mix, leaving me very satisfied, but rather confused.

Love on the Supertax (1944) is Laski’s first novel, and is a very amusing romp through the battle of the classes, and the eternal question of whether romance can flourish between people of different classes. This has been a theme in the English novel from Richardson’s Pamela onwards. But I don’t recall it being done in the way Laski does… in that Clarissa is desperate to leave her privileged background and become part of the socialist working-class. Yes, you’re thinking, we’ve been here before with Lady Chatterley, and still aren’t sure we want our wives and servants reading it. Well, fear not; there is no sense of Clarissa getting a thrill from dabbling below her class – instead, Sid feels he is wandering below his. For it is accepted by all that he would be marrying below himself, if uniting himself with posh Clarissa – not the other way around.

A fairly simple start for a satire, perhaps, but it works so well. The scene where Sid introduces Clarissa to his parents is hilarious – her wafer-thin slices of bread don’t go down well. Here’s another taster, to give you the idea:
“No,” said Sid Baker. “I think you’re a good deal too much influenced by superficial differences, and that you attach too much importance to heredity. Personally, I think environment is far too influential. I’d guarantee that if you took an aristocrat’s child at birth and placed it in a working-class home with all the environmental advantages that would entail, that child at twenty-one would be indistinguishable from me.”I loved Love on the Supertax, and it adds another string to Laski’s complex bow, for it is again so unlike the other Laski novels I’ve read. A quick read, it has charm and wit – and although I daresay it was motivated by a serious point, Laski has the writerly wisdom not to over-emphasise any social critique. Instead, this is a tongue-in-cheek and very amusing novella casting an unusual view on 1940s England. Thanks, Hayley!

Things to get Stuck into:

Economy Must Be Our Watchword – Joyce Dennys: I feel a bit guilty suggesting this, since it is more or less impossible to find, but Dennys’ tale of a selfish and unself-aware (or self-unaware??) woman trying to economise is so, so very hilarious.

Stuck-in-a-Book’s Weekend Miscellany

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Happy weekend folks, hope you’re enjoying 2011 so far! And let’s make a pact, shall we, to say twenty-eleven, rather than two-thousand-and-eleven? Ok? ‘k.

A fair few links and blog posts for today, as they’ve been building up for a while…

1.) I love Mary’s blog Mrs. Miniver’s Daughter, especially this lovely anecdotal post.

2.) John Self, over at Asylum, has written a brilliant and insightful review of Barbara Comyns’ exceptionally good and unusual novel Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead – click here to read it. The new edition I mentioned a while ago from Dorothy, A Publishing Project is now out in the US; a copy is winging its way to me. Check out the Book Depository for free worldwide shipping on it…

3.) …and whilst we’re on the topic, ‘seventydys’ (in the comments on the above review) linked to an interview with Danielle Dutton, who founded Dorothy.

4.) The man behind Caustic Cover Critic has set up Whisky Priest publishing, reprinting some of his favourite out-of-print books using a POD publisher – see more here. He uses his expertise to make some really beautiful covers, although I can’t say I love the colours on the spines – but, lots of intriguing titles.

5.) And finally… the Oxonian Review have written all about my favourite film from last year, Another Year. Rather more high-falutin’ than my own thoughts – and probably rather more well-informed too!

Wikio for January

StuckinaBook All 9 Comments

The good people of Wikio have sent me January’s list – everyone loves a list, so here you go! I am very intrigued by the blog name above mine… and, as always, nice to know so many of the other people on it (and realise how delightfully daft this all is.)

Wikio.co.uk – January Literature Ranking

1 Charlie’s Diary
2 Crooked Timber
3 Book Chick City
4 Quaerentia
5 The Book Smugglers
6 Stuck In A Book
7 Reading Matters
8 Savidge Reads
9 An Awfully Big Blog Adventure
10 dovegreyreader scribbles
11 My Favourite Books
12 booktwo.org
13 Asylum
14 UrbanTick
15 A Don’s Life – Times Online WBLG
16 Pepys’ Diary
17 Cornflower
18 Just William’s Luck
19 BubbleCow
20 Gaskella

Ranking made by Wikio.co.uk

Age Cannot Wither Her

StuckinaBook All , 5 Comments

Whilst we’re talking about unusual narrative structures (as we were with Sarah Waters the other day) some months ago I read Remember Remember by Hazel McHaffie, which she very kindly sent to me as a review copy. I find Alzheimer’s sad, terrifying, and fascinating all at the same time, partly from experience within my own family, and I am drawn to writers who can portray dementia well. Or, indeed, any sort of illness or mental state which requires the author to give a wandering narrative voice.

McHaffie’s novel is split into halves. The first is devoted to Jessica and her attempts to grapple with her mother’s (Doris) dementia. Doris is becoming a danger to herself, and Jessica makes the difficult decision to find a residential home for her. Whilst sorting through Doris’ possessions, she makes unnerving discoveries about her mother’s and her own past. Thrown in amongst this intrigue are the everyday stuff of difficult children, unhelpful siblings, and a love interest in the form of Aaron the lawyer. I did wonder a bit whether Aaron was added at the suggestion of an editor, because he didn’t seem quite to fit with the rest of the novel – does every book need a love interest, really? – but we shan’t squabble over him.

To be perfectly honest, all this felt perfectly serviceable, but perhaps a little uninspiring. Documenting the grief and anguish of caring for a mother with dementia is done well, but other people’s grief can only be documented so many times. And, like love, it is all-consuming when one experiences it oneself, and difficult to find captivating when one is not – with the very honourable exception of Susan Hill’s In the Springtime of the Year.

So I was flicking through, thinking Remember Remember a perfectly good – and perfectly ordinary – novel, when the second half launched itself. Suddenly we move from Jessica’s viewpoint into Doris’:
The board says summer. 29 August. A sun, smiling. I smile.
Yellow. I hate yellow.
“You OK, Doris?” a blue lady says as she stomps past.
Doris? Doris isn’t here. But I know where she is. Hiding. Hiding under the shed in our garden. Hiding from Papa.The reader is swept into Doris’ confused and disorientating perspective on the world – and it is confusing and disorientating. This has been done brilliantly elsewhere – I recommend Eric Melbye’s Tru and Margaret Laurence’s The Stone Angel – but, if not quite at their heights, McHaffie offers a unique twist to the narrative of dementia. Each chapter of Doris’ perspective takes a step back in time. To be honest, I never worked out if the time gaps were sequential or cumulative (i.e. did ‘three years earlier’ mean subtract another three years, or simply three years from the present?) but that doesn’t really matter. What McHaffie cleverly presents is a mind, and thus a prose, that gets gradually more and more coherent – the mirror image of a mind disassembling through dementia.

As with Sarah Waters’ novel, there is much that is revealed through this anti-chronology – and I don’t want to spoil anything for potential readers. What I will say to anybody who does pick up Remember Remember is: persevere. The first half may feel a little ordinary, but I think McHaffie was just readying herself for the second half. That’s when things get interesting – in terms of structure, narrative events, and especially narrative voice.

Thanks for sending me your novel, Hazel – and I’m pleased I finally remembered to write about it! And, because I forgot to mention it earlier, a big gold star to Tom Bee, who provided the design and image for the beautiful cover. Give yourself a pat on the back.

1000!

StuckinaBook All 22 Comments

I’ve been scheduling posts to appear at various times, and have a few drafts waiting, but I hope and I think I’m right in saying… this is my 1000th post!

When I started my blog, back in April 2007, I thought it would be good fun and I’d have a dozen or so readers. I never dreamt that I’d be offered review copies of books, or get to meet so many wonderful bloggers in person, or even that I’d still be bothering with it in a year’s time. Here we are, over three and a half years later.

I’d love to give you all sorts of stats about number of comments, or word count, or whatever – but I don’t think I’ve any way of doing that. I can tell you there are about 290 book reviews up – see the lot here – and far more lovely readers than I’d ever imagined.

I’ll use this celebratory post to announce the winner of Debo Devonshire’s Wait For Me! which is going to… Mistress Cynica! Do send me your address, and I’ll get the book off to you…

Waters run backwards

StuckinaBook All , , 16 Comments

The final book I read in 2010 – deftly added to the list I posted a couple of days ago – was Sarah Waters’ The Night Watch. This is my third Waters novel, and this year was the year of Third Time Lucky (c.f.: Evelyn Waugh; Muriel Sparks) – but not, as it happened, with Waters. That sounds like one of my shortest reviews, doesn’t it? Sorry, folks, but I’m not stopping there… After quite liking Affinity back in 2003 or 2004, I loved The Little Stranger this summer – and if it hadn’t been for that frustrating ending, it would have been one of my favourite reads this year. But I had caught the Waters bug, and my post-Christmas read was The Night Watch, only approx. four years after everyone else.

For those who haven’t read this already, I’ll give you a quick overview. The unusual angle of The Night Watch is that it is told backwards. Events kick off in 1947, and work their way backwards to 1941, stopping off in 1944. That’s not as many stepping stones as I expected, when I read various reviews of this novel in 2006, when it was published, and it does rather put the novel between two stools. On the one hand, there are all sorts of clues laid down regarding past events (further on in the narrative); on the other hand, since there are only three sections – and the final one is very short – it feels a bit like Waters didn’t let herself experiment quite enough. Al this leads me, if you’re not careful, to start talking about sjuzhet and fabula, or histoire and recit, if we’re getting all theoretical. Apologies if this is known already, but quick crash course in a bit Russian Formalism: ‘fabula’ is the chronological series of events; ‘sjuzhet’ is the way this is arranged in a narrative. So Waters has her sjuzhet all in a twist.

Which all means that Waters could be a little self-conscious when she writes this:
“I go to the cinema,” said Kay; “there’s nothing funny about that. Sometimes I sit through the films twice over. Sometimes I go in half-way through, and watch the second half first. I almost prefer them that way – people’s pasts, you know, being so much more interesting than their futures. Or perhaps that’s just me…”But, as usual, I’m getting ahead of myself.

There are plenty of characters, and plenty of things going on, in The Night Watch. Sarah Waters being Sarah Waters, quite a lot of the novel is about being a lesbian in wartime (I loved the if-you’re-in-the-know reference to ‘Quaint Irene’ from Mapp and Lucia as the name of a boat) – and four of the central characters are lesbians, who seem to all be in love with each other at various stages of the novel. Well, one of them – Mickey – appears to be immune to the charms of Helen, Julia, and Kay, but they are all embroiled with one another. To be honest, I didn’t find any of the female characters particularly well delineated – throw in Viv, Helen’s colleague at a sort of post-war dating agency, and they all rather blurred into one. Even Julia’s novelistic career didn’t help me remember which one was which until we were a hundred or so pages in.

Not so the men. Viv’s brother Duncan is doing a menial job in a factory, and has a surprise reunion with Robert Fraser. Duncan’s naive, bulky uncertainty and Robert’s confident charm are done very well – but the reader has no idea what sort of reunion is taking place. Were they colleagues, comrades-in-arms, or romantically involved? I couldn’t possibly tell you, of course…

I’m being a bit critical, so I shall redress the balance – Waters’ structure is often done very well. The careful laying of clues, and all manner of mysterious events, lead to plenty of gasp-moments in the second half. Obviously I shan’t reveal these, but the secret passing of a ring; curious Uncle Horace; and whispers of infidelity are all clues to watch out for… and lead to satisfying ‘oh, right’ moments later.

But as with The Little Stranger, which was almost all compelling reading but had a dud 100 pages, The Night Watch is longer than it needs to be, and drags occasionally. At her best, Waters can tear a story along – but at her worst, it feels rather self-indulgent and unedited.

And then… I feel a bit mean, quoting this bit, as it’s the worst offender – but:
“What’s the matter? Aren’t you happy?”

“Happy?” Viv blinked. “I don’t know. Is anybody happy? Really happy, I mean? People pretend they are.”

“I don’t know either,” said Helen, after a moment. “Happiness is such a fragile sort of thing these days. It’s as though there’s only so much to go round.”Do people talk like this? Did people ever talk like this – except in novels? It’s the sort of thing 1930s plays are scattered with, but I doubt it ever spilled over into read life…

But I’m only picking all these holes because I’m trying to work out why The Night Watch got shortlisted for all sorts of awards. There is so much to like in Waters’ novel, and it was definitely compelling reading much of the time. Writing the narrative backwards is a good idea executed without pretension, but also perhaps without reaching its potential. But somehow, for me, Waters missed the mark. The Little Stranger was very nearly a brilliant novel. The Night Watch was very nearly a very good novel. I’ve not read all of Waters’ novels, but… is she destined to always fall short from her potential? Or am I a lone voice in the wilderness? Fans of Waters – convince me!

End of Year Meme

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Except, naturally, it’s the beginning of the year – but this is my little sum-up of 2010 in books. I’m using the same meme I’ve been using since 2007, which adds a nice continuity to it all. And here goes…

– How many books read in 2010?
115, which is rather fewer than last year, but I’d wager I’ve read more pages this year.

– Fiction/Non-Fiction ratio?
96/19 – surprising few non-fiction titles, given how much literary theory I’ve been reading. I intend to read more non-fiction this year, but then again I intend that every year.

– Male/Female authors?
47 by men; 67 by women; 1 by one of each. Not an unusual ratio for me…

– Favourite book read?
Nella Last’s War by Nella Last, as I mentioned in my Top Ten List.

– Least favourite?
I gave up on one or two, but of the ones I finished I confess I was disappointed by The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery.

– Oldest book read?
I think that honour goes to Mary Shelley and Frankenstein (1818).

– Newest book read?
This little lot were all published this year.

– Longest book title?
I must confess, I haven’t done a thorough count of all the titles, but, discounting subtitles, I think Pont wins with The British Character Studied and Revealed and 37 characters.

– Shortest book title?
I’ve had three-letter titles and four-letter titles win this accolade in past years, but in 2010 the shortest I managed was Christos Tsiolkas’ The Slap at 7.

– How many re-reads?
Only 13, which is far fewer than last year’s 31 – not something I noticed decreasing, and I can’t beging to imagine why.

– Most books read by one author this year?
E.M. Delafield and C.S. Lewis tie on four apiece, despite not having read any Lewis this year until the 20th December. Barbara Comyns is snapping at their heels with three.

– Any in translation?
Probably the most ever, at 12, mostly from the French but with a Scandinavian title or two.

– How many books were borrowed from the library?
27 from the library this year, and at least half a dozen borrowed from friends.

– Name a book you’ve read this year which was recommended by a blogger?
Annabel (aka Gaskella) not only recommended, but lent, All Quiet on the Orient Express by Magnus Mills – thanks Annabel (and thanks for pointing out that I’d written the wrong title here!)

Happy New Year!

StuckinaBook All 10 Comments

I’m back with the internet now – I must confess, I did frequently sneak onto the internet on my mobile, but didn’t communicate with the outside world. The posts all popped up at the right times, and I especially love all your recommendations for favourite biography/autobiography. So many titles I haven’t heard of, and so many I want to read. Non-fiction always seems to appear at the top of my End of Year Best Reads, and yet accounts for fairly little of my reading – so lots of opportunities to rectify.

My End of Year Meme will appear tomorrow (do go and see Thomas’ if you get a chance; it’s hilarious) so this is post is just to wish you well for the New Year – and amuse you with my post-2010 book buying antics.

I had hoped to go to the Bookbarn in Somerset today, as nothing on their website suggested their open-7-days-a-week policy changed for New Year’s Day. But repeated ‘phone calls got no answer, so I assume they must be closed – note to Bookbarn: do something to your website! I’m heading back to Oxford on the 3rd, so a splurgy trip to the Bookbarn will have to wait.

Did I let this hold me back? No, of course not – I went online, and have ordered 24 books. Yes, 24 – the same number that I bought in 365 days last year! Before you fall off your chair, or anything, I should mention that 20 of them came in a boxset. The other four were books which were waiting on my Amazon Wishlist for the New Year to roll around.

Obviously they haven’t arrived yet, but I’ll tell you what they are now.


– English Journeys Collection: one of those fabulous boxed sets, with 20 titles to do with journeys and nature. Too many titles to list, but you can see them all here.

– Life Among the Savages – Shirley Jackson: I’m so intrigued how the author of We Have Always Lived in the Castle and The Haunting of Hill House could write something which sounds more Provincial Lady than Headless Lady.

– Exchange – Paul Magrs: I saw this mentioned on Simon S’s blog a while ago, and he says it’s for any lover of books – AND it features a bibliophile called Simon.


– The Man Who Planted Trees – Jean Giono: Although this is in my Top Ten of 2010, I don’t actually own a copy. So on Jan. 1st I had to put that right, no?

– As We Are Now – May Sarton: this was on Thomas’ Top Ten of 2010, and really appealed – and, at 1p plus postage, I used my new-found buying freedom to have this wing its way to me.