For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given!
A very wonderful Christmas to you all, hope Santa brought lots of books.
God bless,
Simon
All
Quirky
Thanks for your advice, I’ve done something which I haven’t done in a couple of years – given up on a book. Bye bye Kevin, you’re back on the bookshelf, for the time being at least. I know a lot of you believe books should be discarded if they’re not working for you at page 50, but I can’t adopt that policy. I feel I’ve entered into some sort of contract with the author – if they’ve put months into writing it, I can put days into reading it. So I only give up in exceptional circumstances.
And what have I read instead? Well, I actually picked it 
up yesterday because the computer was taking ages to load and it was the nearest book to me – but got hooked and finished it today. Quirkology: The Curious Science of Everyday Lives by Richard Wiseman. It’s so modern that it was a website (quirkology.com) and a YouTube channel, and that’s more than Jane Austen ever had.
It doesn’t sound usual Stuck-in-a-Book fare, and I suppose it’s not, but one of the other books I’ve enjoyed this year was Oliver Sacks’ The Man Who Mistook His Wife For A Hat. That was a book detailing psychological illnesses witnessed by Dr. Sacks, and his methods of treating them, in a manner which demonstrated his empathy as well as intelligence. Quirkology is rather more silly, though still keen to point out its scientific credentials – it’s all about Wiseman’s psychological experiments and what insights he has discovered into everyday lives. The psychological equivalent of Kate Fox’s anthropological Watching the English.
Amongst Wiseman’s investigations are attempts to find the world’s funniest joke; see what sort of person takes more than 10 items in a supermarket’s express line; how to tell if someone is lying; how your surname could decide your career; the trustworthiness of beards; how pretending to be a football hooligan will actually lower your IQ. Many, many interesting facts and studies, which often make you feel grateful that you weren’t a participant (many of the studies claim to be about one thing, and trick a participant into having different behaviour analysed).
Here’s one little starter. Using your forefinger, trace a capital Q on your forehead. Go on… done it? Click here to see what it says about you.
A fun, and indeed very quirky, book.
Should I Continue?
I made a small pile of books from the tbr pile to read over Christmas, before I had to start on reading for next term – first among them was Lionel Shriver’s We Need To Talk About Kevin. I bought the novel not long after it appeared in paperback, my book group at home having read it and thought it very good – since then I’ve known various people proclaim the best or, alternatively, the worst novel they’ve read in a long time. I’m up to page 40 and so far I’m in the latter camp…
It’s not the horrific nature of Kevin’s deeds – which have yet to be particularly elaborated – it’s the utterly awful writing. I’m all for fancy words in prose, but, when discussing the amount of water in the hot water tank, ‘the awareness that there is no reserve permeates my ablutions with disquiet’ – Really? The main character is that irritating I-don’t-care-what-people-think-but-really-I-do type, all introspection and independence and sock-it-to-’em honesty mixed with psychobabble… I almost never give up on books, but…
…that is my question, really. For those who’ve read We Need To Talk About Kevin. Should I bother continuing?
Favourite book of the year…?
Tonight was the opening night of the Chiselborough Christmas Cracker, our village show, and the Thomas family were in full force performing a version of the Four Yorkshiremen sketch, cleverly reworked by Our Vicar into the Four Clergyperson sketch. Much fun had all round. It’s our third turn in Somerset – last year we played ourselves preparing for the sketch, in a postmodern turn which baffled most, and the year before we did a chat show, hosted by Our Vicar; my character was a Sound of Music obsessive who sang all his lines, Our Vicar’s Wife was celebrity chef Smelia Dith, and The Carbon Copy had a phobia of rhyme. I do love villages.
The other challenge of the day has been compiling my favourite books of the year. I always look forward to this, and then find it incredibly difficult… my list might well be slightly different if I’d made it last week or last month, but I’ve settled on my Top 15. I tried to make a Top 10, but couldn’t bring myself to leave some out. Anyway, I’ll keep that for a few days, because I’ve asked The Clan to each write something about their favourite book of the year. None of them keep a list of the books they read, like I do, but hopefully each will be able to drag into the depths of their minds for a special one this year… keep your eyes out for those.
So, for now, I open the floor to you – what’s the best book you’ve read in 2008? Doesn’t have to have been published this year, but preferably one you read for the first time this year. My end of year lists never include rereads or more than one book by any author… I look forward to hearing your choices, and reasons – and if you can link to a review on your own blog, if you have one, that would be great too! I might compile your lists in a future email.
After the Fox
Just to prove I have read *something * this month…
Quite a while ago I wrote about second-book-syndrome. By that I meant the second book you re
ad by an author, after you’ve loved one. You might be reading them in order they were written, might be completely different – but it’s so difficult for the second book to live up to the first. I wrote the first blog post about Frank Baker’s Before I Go Hence, which was good, but nowhere near as good as Miss Hargreaves, which is one of my ’50 Books’. I haven’t read another novel by Baker since, though I have a few waiting on my shelves. Today’s post is about another ’50 Books’ author, and the second book I’ve read by him – Aspects of Love by David Garnett.
I bought this in a secondhand bookshop in London a while ago, and read most of it on the train home – then a lull, and read the rest last week. I was attracted to it, other than by Garnett’s name, by its brevity. The blurb says:
‘Alone in a villa in the South of France, a penniless French actress and a star-struck English boy enjoy an idyll which they thought could not last. The years prove them wrong. Their entanglement endures, changing slowly, bringing in others – all of them concerned to keep the taste of life on the tip of their tongue.’
Well, that was quite misleading. I was anticipating a beautiful love story, but nuanced by Modernist whirls, as it were. Lady Into Fox, though it put some people off with its metamorphosis, was at heart a moving love story, told with a spectacular linguistic skill. Aspects of Love was like reading a rollercoaster – dramatic event after dramatic event whisked past me, before I had time to work out what was happening. When the blurb says the central relationship is ‘changing slowly’, they mean she goes off with his uncle; he shoots her, she has a daughter with the uncle, who falls in love with him… I usually love short novels, as they give the opportunity for something simple and polished, portraits of characters which shine like gems. Aspects of Love had some good points, but should either have cut out half the plot or doubled its length. I don’t know what Garnett was trying to say, but whatever it was didn’t convince me – I am rather disappointed, and can’t say I recommend this novel. The odd sentence was beautiful, but you some sentences do not a great novel make. Shame.
And now the question is… will I bother with a third book by Garnett?
Exteeeeeeeeeended Essay
I’m in the midst of my final days in Oxford for this year, and busy writing my thesis or extended essay or whatever it ought to be called. We do three of these, and one slightly longer one, so ‘essay’ seems too diminuitive a label, and ‘dissertation’ too grand. Extended essay is probably all the lauding it needs, and at 7000 words it is neither a trifle nor a mountain, most of my classmates have read the papercheap review and I’m seriously thinking about it. This is taking up most of my time, hence not having finished a book for a while – I have a feeling December will be a record low for the year, though I am currently enjoying The War Workers by EM Delafield, Harriet Hume by Rebecca West, and Every Eye by Isobel English. Slowly.
My essay title is:
‘I – I only want to leave–‘:
The Imperial Visitor in Olive Schreiner and Katherine Mansfield
Yes. I’m a fan of using incongruous quotations for titles – this one comes from my favourite Katherine Mansfield story, ‘The Garden Party’. (This was my favourite story when I read the Folio Collected Short Stories of KM, and only afterwards did I discover that it’s her most renowned – which proves that it is deservedly renowned!) Laura is at the impoverished family’s house, and is saying that she wishes to leave the basket she brought – but in missing out the word ‘basket’, reveals also her desire to leave the house. I think I called this ‘partial zeugma’. Oh, indeed.
Sometimes I get a bit wordy. I’ve already used the expressions ‘anthropomorphised mercantilism’ and ‘Bona
parte’s credentials are essentially fiscal’. Not to mention ‘cannibalises’; ‘intial corporeal dislocation’, and, most profoundly, ‘Time is a crucial as space’.
It’s fun to be back at it. The Carbon Copy said he tried to read my undergraduate thesis on Virginia Woolf and Clothing the other, but stopped after two pages because it was, quote, ‘boring’. Aah, with friends like these. To be fair to him, I don’t think I’d last two pages on the Reimann Hypothesis. It always amazes me the subjectivity of the word ‘interesting’ – this blog bubble sometimes makes me forget that some people (I’m looking at you, Mr. Tim Henman) think reading is ‘boring’ – whereas I imagine there are leagues of sports fans and map readers and geologists who would be astonished at my lack of interest in their field… I bet none of *them* have ever said ‘anthropomorphised mercantilism’. And, at the end of the day, is there any better method of judging success?
In all seriousness, anyone interested in Katherine Mansfield or Olive Schreiner, if my wordiness has whetted your appetite, I’d be happy to email you my essay afterwards – and be even more happy to hear your thoughts on the concept of visiting in their works.
Reading at the Speed of Light
Today’s topic is crying out for a Stuck-in-a-Book sketch, but that requires more energy than I have after mulled wine, mince pies and Scrabble. Mmm, Christmas…
The other day Elaine at Random Jottings wrote about the mixed blessing and curse that reading incredibly quickly can be. I’ve known Elaine online for nearly five years now, and have always been rather jealous of her amazing reading rate – I believe, including lighter, quick reads, Elaine has read 250 books this year. Compare that to my 130… yes, that’s an awful lot (possibly more than I’ve read any other year) but that is testament to all the time I had this year for reading, rather than my speed. I’m not slow, but I’m not very fast. Well, I’ll qualify that statement a little later.
Elaine writes on her blog, and has mentioned to me before, that when she reads she ‘sees’ the words, whereas most readers ‘hear’ them – and that the ‘seeing’ is slightly quicker on each sentence, which builds up to a lot quicker over all. If you’re thinking the idea is nonsense, watch out for it next time you’re reading a novel – I bet you’ll be hearing the words faintly while you read. It becomes more obvious when you hit a word you don’t know how to pronounce, or used to mispronounce… Now, I’ve discovered that I can actually choose how I read – my default is to ‘hear’ the word, but if I want to read something quickly, I can switch to ‘see’ing it. But, for me, this deadens the words – I get the meaning without any emotional connection. Very odd. Probably not remotely scientific, but… (Oo, actually, see this study which I just found, about emotional impact and speed of reading…)
Before speaking to Elaine, I always considered fast reading an unadulterated blessing – but she recounts mistrustful teachers and other occasions on which it’s been more of a curse. What about you? Do you read fast or slowly? Can you see fast reading as a curse, or would you long for it? Do you take your time over some books, and race through others? Or have you never really given a second thought to the speed of your reading? Perhaps someone with a scientific turn of mind could explain some or all of this to us… how innate is the speed of reading, and can we change it?
Quick post…
A very quick one as I’m going to bed…
I PASSED MY DRIVING TEST!
Hurrah, hurray and praise the Lord!
The Family Reunion
Yesterday evening I was in London, possibly the first time I’ve gone up ‘for the evening’ in a cosmopolitan sort of way, to see ‘The Family Reunion
‘ by T. S. Eliot. It’s being performed at the Donmar Warehouse Theatre, which is in a very nice little area of London called Seven Dials. Agatha Christie aficianadoes – I’m looking at you, Colin – might be able to tell me if there’s any connection with The Seven Dials Mystery? If I ever had to live in London, that’s where I’d like to live. I imagine a day’s rent is more than I could earn in a year.
Why did I want to see the play? No literary reasons at all, I’m afraid – it was the cast. Does that make me strange? Mel suggests it does. But no matter – it was quite an exceptional line-up: Penelope Wilton, Sam West, Gemma Jones, Una Stubbs. I daresay the others deserve their names in lights, but it was for these four (in that order) that I was excited. Most especially Penelope Wilton – in fact, I found the play by Googling her name. She’s wonderful in Iris and Calendar Girls and Pride and Prejudice and everything, probably, but the main reason I wanted to see her was because of The Borrowers. This was one of the programmes we grew up watching, and it felt surreal to have one of the stars mere feet away from me. Even more surreal when Homily Clock (aka Penelope Wilton) started having a conversation with Prince Caspian (aka Sam West).
I should probably mention the play itself… a mother and aunts and uncles are gathered for the homecoming of Harry, who hasn’t been to their grand house for eight years. In the interrim Something Has Happened to him, involving his much disliked wife, and it’s had all sorts of effects on Harry. That’s about as much concrete plot as I could grasp – much of the play focuses on the relations between relatives and mindsets, and leads into a curious philosophical staging which might be summed up as ‘there’s more to life than there seems’. I don’t know if T.S. Eliot was a Christian when he wrote ‘The Family Reunion’, but it seems very much the work of someone who is starting on the path – realises there is more to life than meets the eye, and wants to explore it. Occasional bursts of humour, mostly provided by Una Stubbs, and some rather creepy boy apparitions (who at one point appear behind a door in an instant; no idea how they did that), and another effect which I found wonderful. Quite often four members of the cast would suddenly move together and speak in unison, Greek Chorus-like, revealing their shared psychologies. Could have been affected, but instead worked very well.
This might all have been a bit of a babble: difficult to make plain what I thought about such a complex play. I must read it. I’ll finish, instead, with some more celebrity-spotting – we were followed into the theatre by Celia Imrie! (Maybe there to see Calendar Girls co-star Penelope Wilton?)
Must-Read-Very-Soon pile
As promised, the Must-Read-Very-Soon pile in its entirety – brace yourself, there are quite a few (hence yes, Mel, I did mean 2009!) but they’re all books which elevate themselves out of the ‘to be read’ pile into a state of reading urgency. Having said that, most of them have been there for four months already… I’ll read this post in December 2009 and let you know how many have been read.
Let’s look at the big shelf in closer detail, left to right… if anything sparks your interest or – even better – if you’ve read them, do comment.
The Paris Review Interviews vol.1 and vol.2
– these have been mentioned on Stuck-in-a-Book before, and I’ve read bits and pieces. Interviews with the Great and the Good of literature – in depth, insightful, invaluable. And the third volume is out…
Beyond Sing The Woods by Trygve Gulbranssen
– in my sporadic, but heartfelt, interest in Scandinavian literature, I bought this novel after seeing it mentioned in the comments on Danielle’s blog.
Winnie the Pooh and The House at Pooh Corner and When We Were Very Young by AA Milne
– I haven’t read these for six or seven years, and that must be rectified soon. Plus, the rather beautiful copy of WWWVY was given to me by my dear friend Mel.
London 1945: Life in the Debris of War by Maureen Waller
– I’ve not read much about *just* postwar, either fact or fiction, and this came recommended by several Persephone Books lovers – so can’t go far wrong.
The Haunted Bookshop and Parnassus on Wheels by Christopher Morley
– These came from Danielle in exchange for Miss Hargreaves… and they’re still not read by me. BUT they’re on the priority shelf, so watch this space…
A House of Air by Penelope Fitzgerald
As championed by Lynne ‘dovegreyreader’ Hatwell, a collection of Fitzgerald’s reviews and introductions and essays etc. etc. Started a while ago, but it’s been sidelined to this shelf until I’m in a Fitzgerald mood.
The Feminine Middlebrow Novel by Nicola Humble
– This invaluable guide to everything middlebrow I have read, but think I should re-read before I start my dissertation. More on it here.
They Came Like Swallows by William Maxwell
– Cornflower Book Group choice ages ago, sounded brilliant, Karen very sweetly sent me a copy… I will read it soon! Pop over to the Cornflower Book Group and see what was said about it then.
A Vindication of the Rights of Women by Mary Wollstonecraft
– I started this after reading Janet Todd’s rather wonderful biography of Mary’s daughter Fanny, and the whole Wollstonecraft/Shelley clan… found Vindication a little dry, but intend to persevere.
The Man Who Was Thursday by G.K. Chesterton
– The aforementioned Mel lent this to me in September…
A Man Like Any Other by Mary Cavanagh
– I reviewed Mary’s debut novel The Crowded Bed, and she subsequently became a friend whom I’ve seen quite a few times, as she’s an Oxfordshire writer. This one is definitely a must read, and is probably no.1 priority on the Must Read shelf.
Oxford by Jan Morris
– Our Vicar gave me this when I went to university… I will read it soon, I will! Now that I’m not an undergraduate, I’m starting to get tourists’-curiosity…
Can Any Mother Help Me? by Jenna Bailey
-In 1935 a lonely young mother wrote to Nursery World asking for advice on how to occupy her literate and lively mind without costing money. She struck a chord; a group started a private magazine. This non-fiction book is all about that – utterly irresistible.
Slave of Christ by Murray J. Harris
-Always a theological book or twelve waiting in the offing, and the idea of being a slave of Christ is one I want to explore and investigate.
The next one is my dovegreybooks postal book, so don’t look too closely if you’re in that group…. in fact, I won’t even mention it. Squint, and move onto the next one.
The Provincial Lady by E. M. Delafield
-Yes, of course I’ve read these four books – it’s in the 50 Books… – but they’re always due a re-read.
The Haunted Woman by David Lindsay
-Same applies…
I Follow But Myself by Frank Baker
-the autobiography of the man behind Miss Hargreaves – more precisely, a book of character sketches of important people in his life. Includes Edward Garnett – Virginia Woolf’s sister’s daughter’s husband’s father!
Mhudi by Sol T. Plaatje
-Just read this South African novel, actually, for my Empire & Nation class; I’ll be posting it back to Nichola soon, who kindly lent it to me.
Mrs. Woolf and the Servants by Alison Light
-My friend Clare gave me this as a leaving present from the Bodleian, and it’s absolutely perfect for me, of course. Soon, soon…
Fugitive Pieces by Anne Michaels
-I’d never heard of this, but my book group friend Louie was absolutely certain that I’d love the novel, and it all looks very promising!
Gosh. See the challenge I have ahead of me? Certainly not put off my books – just writing this has made me want to read every single one of them. But I must write my extended essay… I must. Oh dear, I’m slipping already…