Eyes, Exams and Excellence

StuckinaBook All 3 Comments

I’ve managed to misplace my glasses this evening, so am currently looking blearily at the computer screen and hoping that I don’t get a headache… throughout my life I’ve had quite a talent for losing things in small spaces, and though I know the glasses must be in quite a limited area, they are proving good hiders.

In more exciting news – Colin aka The Carbon Copy has passed the first lot of actuarial exams! Told him he would. They’re quite tricky to pass (and ‘pass’ is the best you can do), so well done to him. I *almost* understand what he does now…

Oo, since writing the above, my glasses have turned up under a pile of things on my desk; a pile I’m sure I looked through at least twice.

It’s Thursday, so I’m going to do Booking Through Thursday, but haven’t much to say to a very difficult question:

Think about your favorite authors, your favorite books . . . what is it about them that makes you love them above all the other authors you’ve read? The stories? The characters? The way they appear to relish the taste of words on the tongue? The way they’re unafraid to show the nitty-gritty of life? How they sweep you off to a new, distant place? What is it about those books and authors that makes them resonate with you in ways that other, perfectly good books and authors do not?

Well! For a start, my favourite authors and books… what can tie together Miss Hargreaves and The Diary of a Provincial Lady and Mrs. Dalloway and Sense and Sensibility? Even having a look through the 50 Books (or how many I’ve got to so far) in the left-hand column… no, not a lot they have in common. They share a few absences – none of my favourites are Issue-led books, or gritty. They’re about characters, and a good/witty/evocative/beautiful use of language. Characters and language. That’s all I can come up with. Hmm. Maybe you’ll have better luck?

First Things First

StuckinaBook All 8 Comments

Something on Susan Hill’s blog the other day led me to think about the ‘right’ order to read an author’s novels… obviously there is no single correct way to read an author (note my continuing, slowly, project Backwards With Daphne), but there might be methods more conducive to enjoyment and appreciation…

More specifically: should you read the best book first?

This makes an assumption, of course, that an author has a ‘best’ book. Perhaps it would just as well be replaced with the word ‘favourite’, because the dilemma is just the same. My initial response, on Susan’s blog, was that reading the best/favourite novel first would lead to all subsequent reads being a disappointment – Lynne pointed out, in the same comments, that one might just give up after an average read. If you read an excellent novel, you’ll continue with that author, even if there are a few duds or mediocre reads along the way.

Let me think. I’ve done this both ways. Barbara Comyns, for example – Our Spoons Came From Woolworths was enjoyable, but I much preferred Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead, which was on my shelf for years before I read it. Luckily Our Spoons was good enough for me to keep looking for more Comyns, though without any urgency – had it been a shade less enjoyable, I might not have bothered. On the other hand, as always, is Miss Hargreaves by Frank Baker. I’ve only read one other novel by him – Before I Go Hence – which was likeable enough, but nothing compared to Miss Hargreaves. If I’d read Before I Go Hence first, I probably wouldn’t have bothered seeking out Miss Hargreaves – which might well be my favourite novel; certainly top five.

What to do! More importantly, what to recommend? If someone asks me about an author, should I send them towards the Pride and Prejudices or the Mansfield Parks? (Now, there’s a cat among the pigeons!)

Star Gazing

StuckinaBook All , 3 Comments

I get sent quite a few ‘first novels’, so it’s a pleasant change to receive a novel which is the third from an author’s pen. Of course, I love seeing the first-offs too – but when Star Gazing by Linda Gillard arrived, I had the experiences of Emotional Geology and A Lifetime Burning to which to compare it. Plus, Linda has been an e-friend for a few years now, and it’s always lovely to hear from her.

I was in a position of knowledge when it came to Linda’s second novel, A Lifetime Burning. I wrote about it last year, and though there were obvious aspects of the book which I hadn’t experienced (shan’t spoil it for you, but let’s just say I might have a criminal record if I had experienced them) I am a twin and in a vicar’s family, and so could understand those. I’ve never been so impressed by any literary portrayal of being a twin – Linda understood it so well. I can only assume she has found a similar level of empathy and recognition with blindness. Marianne, the central character of Star Gazing, is blind.

Blind, but not a victim. Bolshy, is our Marianne – “crabbit”, to quote Keir. Keir is the man in the novel – an oil rigger who spends his time away from work living on Skye, he’s a heady mixture of shy and sensitive and rugged and… does he exist? Linda has said that she was intrigued by the idea of writing a hero who might not exist – since Marianne has to rely on her other senses, she can’t be sure that Keir isn’t a projection of her imagination, and the reader spends quite a few chapters equally unsure.

But I haven’t said much about Marianne, yet. She’s middle-aged, and has been blind since birth. A widower, she lives with her vampire-romantic-novel writing sister Louisa (sisters Marianne and Louisa… the influence of Jane Austen hovering somewhere, perhaps?) and is a very determined woman. I always have a little trouble with people who are desperate to be independent – the sort of person who complains that people are being ‘patronising’ to them – but perhaps that’s because I function best in a unit (back to the twin thing, mayhap). With Marianne, she has enough endearing features that I rarely wanted to throttle her. I can’t be cross with a woman who says “Pure Enid Blyton – a much maligned author, in my opinion.” My only criticism is that she so often mentions that she is blind. Her prerogative, I suppose, but I’m sure most visually impaired people can let the expression “You see what I mean” pass, without pointing out that they can’t…

Star Gazing uses three narrative focalisations – Marianne, Louisa, and a third person narrative. Linda uses this skilfully, as she has done before, and the transition from Marianne’s internal view to an external perspective highlights the smallness of Marianne’s world – as she says, her experience of it stretches only as far as she can hear, smell or touch. The success of Star Gazing must ultimately hinge on the story, and the portrayal of blindness. As I said, I can’t judge from my own experience – I’d love to hear from someone who can – but I was fairly convinced. It must be such a difficult task: how to describe the absence of sight from the perspective of one who doesn’t know what she hasn’t got? There is a strong theme of music throughout – I hardly knew any of the references, but visual things, especially scenery and natural phenomena, are often described to Marianne by their musical equivalent. The beautiful intricacy of a cobweb, for instance – which Marianne has only experienced as sticky and unpleasant – is compared to The Well-Tempered Clavier.

Star Gazing is not as ambitious or controversial as A Lifetime Burning – and consequently, where A Lifetime Burning was a great novel, Star Gazing is a good one. A very good one. It would be surprising if an author had two novels of A Lifetime Burning’s power in them, let alone consecutively. Star Gazing, though, demonstrates Linda Gillard’s continuing power as a storyteller, a creator of vivid and unusual characters, and a novelist who will hopefully soon get the recognition she deserves. I’m delighted that a fourth novel has already been written – can’t wait.

Happy Fathers Day!

StuckinaBook All 8 Comments

For the apostrophe-minded, Fathers Day is a minefield. As you see, I have decided for an apostropheless celebration – I think it’s a day of fathers, rather than belonging to one (Father’s) or many (Fathers’)…

Anyway – for Our Vicar, and all the other fathers reading, have a great day!

To celebrate the occasion – whom do you think is the best father in literature? I don’t really mean the one I enjoy reading about the most, but rather the character who is the best father to his child/ren. If it were the former, I’d plump for Mr. Woodhouse from Emma, but he couldn’t be described as a good parent… nor, indeed, could many of Austen’s literary parents.

So, have a think. I’m going to ponder on it, and see what I think…

Or just comment on fathers in literature as you wish!

Uncommon Arrangements

StuckinaBook All 8 Comments

I had a book token…

As book-buying excuses go, that one is pretty good. I don’t understand how people can have a book token for more than about a week – it’s a free book, how can I withstand that temptation? Luckily I found a book I really wanted (always tricky… ahem) and so bought Uncommon Arrangements : Seven portraits of married life in London literary circles 1910-1939 by Katie Roiphe. With a title like that, how could I not? It’s the right period for me, it’s domestic, and it is about these couples:

Katherine Mansfield & John Middleton Murray
Vanessa & Clive Bell
Elizabeth von Arnim & John Francis Russell
Ottoline & Philip Morrell
H.G. & Jane Wells
Vera Brittain & George Gordon Catlin
Radclyffe Hall & Una Troubridge

I’ve arranged those in order of my own interest – but I was pleased to say I’d heard of most of them, including at least one of every pairing. In many ways, this book seems catered just for me – I long to know more about so many of these couples. When a book is that obviously Simon, it would be churlish to leave it on the shelf. And I had a book token (did I mention that?)

‘Each chapter is structured around a crisis in a marriage and how it is resolved or not resolved. In some cases the crisis is as large as life-threatening illness, and in others it is as small as a slightly drunken conversation over dinner that threatens the balance of carefully submerged emotions.’ So Katie Roiphe writes in the introduction, which is the only bit I’ve read so far. The introduction does seem a little too touchy-feely, and lots of rhetorical questions (I was reminded of the stereotypical first-year undergraduate essay) but hopefully this will lessen as the main section of the book emerges. Anyway, it would be hard for Roiphe to write about these people without being interesting to me… at the same time, I want her to do them justice.

I’ll report back when I’m done…

Booking Through Thursday

StuckinaBook All 3 Comments


Today’s question kind of answers itself, if you read through this week’s entries. At least part of it is answered, anyway…

Have you ever been a member of a book club? How did your group choose (or, if you haven’t been, what do you think is the best way to choose) the next book and who would lead discussion? Do you feel more or less likely to appreciate books if you are obliged to read them for book groups rather than choosing them of your own free will? Does knowing they are going to be read as part of a group affect the reading experience?
So, YES, I am a member of a book group! Two, in fact, which both met this week. I love book groups; they’re such a wonderful way of talking about literature without being scholarly (I also love academic English, but enjoy the divide between studying and reading groups.) One choose the books by compiling a shortlist of about four, and having an online poll (I’m currently rooting for My Cousin Rachel) while the other just decides six months at a time, from whatever people throw into the circle. My latest suggestion there was Edward Carey’s Alva & Irva, which I haven’t read, but looks fascinating.

To go onto the second part of the question, I don’t think it really alters how I read a book (except that I’ll probably be reading it very quickly, at the last minute!) – but it will affect the ways in which I reflect upon it. Except for writing about them on here, most books I read aren’t dwelt upon – I don’t forget them immediately, but I certainly don’t spend much time considering my opinion. To have an evening spent discussing it is invaluable, and has sometimes changed my mind about a book.

I heartily recommend Jenny Hartley’s book on the subject, Reading Groups, which was written up from questionnaires sent out to lots of book groups. Fascinating, and very well written. I wrote more about it here…

As always – over to you! Same questions as above.

En Suite

StuckinaBook All , 4 Comments


Sorry not to write anything yesterday – I was tearing through the book for tonight’s book group (metaphorically, you understand), having similarly dashed through one for Tuesday night’s book group. They’re not often on consecutive nights, so it was rather a challenge this time. Luckily both books were great – a re-read of Angela Young’s Speaking of Love (see 50 Books You Must Read….) and the book I’m going to chat about today – Irene Nemirovsky’s Suite Francaise. Both her name and the title are calculated to defeat Blogger’s attempts to locate accents and cidillas (sp?) etc, so I’m afraid I’m going to leave the lot out. Sorry…

Suite Francaise has had a lot of publicity, in Europe anyway, so I shan’t say that much about the plot of the book – a lot of others have done so better than I could, anyway. I should, actually, say books – these are the first two of a planned trilogy (potentially even more) which Nemirovsky was tragically unable to complete, because she was killed in Auschwitz in 1942. The two books are Storm in June, which documents the invasion of Paris and the fleeing of many from it; and Dolce, about a village under Nazi occupation. Some characters overlap, especially in peripheral mentions.

I’ll launch right into my praise – Nemirovsky is an incredibly gifted novelist. Had these been further edited; had the trilogy been complete, this could have been one of twentieth century’s most important works, I think. The people at Book Group agreed that her greatest talent was the delineation of character, and making people unique and fully formed. A comparison of Dolce with the film Went The Day Well? is illuminating and quite amusing. Though I love that film, it could hardly be considered to offer sympathy to the German troops – it is a bitter irony that Nemirovsky could see these soldiers are people, with all their virtues and vices, and yet would die under the Nazi regime. Had these novels been written now, the French might be innocent victims and the German soldiers all baddies – Nemirovsky, especially in Dolce, is able to see them as humans, first and foremost. Perhaps Storm in June has one too many unpleasant rich men, but perhaps Paris had too many of them at the time. A pervasive theme is that money could help one escape most things. She laments the way those with no control over the situation are those to bear the brunt of the anguish:

‘But why are we always the ones who have to suffer?’ she cried out in indignation. ‘Us and people like us? Ordinary people, the lower middle classes. If war is delcared or the franc devalues, if there’s unemployment or a revolution, or any sort of crisis, the others manage to get through all right. We’re always the ones who get trampled! Why? What did we do? We’re paying for everyone else’s mistakes.’

Neither novel has a straight-forward, linear plot, and often novels which avoid these are difficult to keep reading. They don’t grab you. But in Suite Francaise, despite the episodic and patchwork-like writing, I always wanted to read on. There are sharp points of drama amongst less shocking narratives; it is an experience rather than a plot. I did prefer Dolce, as I didn’t lose track of characters as I did in Storm in June, and the central story between Frenchwoman Lucile and German soldier Bruno is touching and sophisticatedly complex – but both novels are evidence that Nemirovsky was a writer who should have had a very glowing future. Authentic, beautiful, understanding.

Special Collections

StuckinaBook All 5 Comments


Thought I’d keep you updated as to my movements around the Bodleian. Those of you who have been following my sporadic library updates will by now have a fairly comprehensive understanding of the various departments – in fact, if you’ve been attentive, you’ll know more than most of the students in Oxford. More than I did, certainly.

Today I moved to Special Collections, which is awfully special – it more or less means manuscripts and rare books and nice old and exciting things. Back when I started in the Bodleian, I spent a week working underground in the stacks, and could peruse all sorts of interesting and odd things (a letter written by Jane Austen; Hitler’s marriage certificate; a copy of Wind in the Willows handwritten by Kenneth Grahame) – now I get to see some more! It went rather from the sublime to the ridiculous today. First I saw a Shakespeare First Folio (with some amusing marginalia from an early owner – ‘Beatrice and Benedict have much wit’ by the opening of Much Ado About Nothing for instance, and a rather fanciful handwritten list of plays which the owner considered Shakespeare to have penned). After that I spent quite a lot of time with a few hundred copies of Buffalo Bill Novels, from the 1910s onwards. Hilarious stuff, looks like a comic but novel-length prose, more or less. Classic.

My favourite section of the library revealed today, though, was the section hidden away behind a grille. An odd miscellany, which have in common one thing – they simply can’t be on the accessible shelves, for a number of reasons. For example: “page 32 of this book contains a serious libel” – ! That seemed to be the theme. These books allege all sorts of things which might still cause a legal kerfuffle. Since the Bodleian can’t let things leave the library once stamped, they are kept here. What fun.

All in all, I think my time in Special Collections is going to be good fun. I’ve certainly been looking forward to it all year – although I shan’t spend much time with the readers, I’ll be with the most interesting material held in the Bod.

Oh, and “hello!” to anyone from the Bod who was alerted to this post by a Google alert…

Litopia etc.

StuckinaBook All 4 Comments

Just back from a very nice weekend in Somerset with Our Vicar, Our Vicar’s Wife and The Carbon Copy – enjoyed the sunshine and fields and helping build a Kenyan hut’s roof. It was never a normal upbringing, was it? Whilst at home I collected my new ‘phone, which had been delivered there, and so Albert is my new ear-companion; farewell Orsino. Orsino (whose menu button is broken) was named after the Duke in Twelfth Night, of course, while Albert (who was bought because I wanted something dull and reliable; a Nokia) is after Queen Victoria’s late husband, since dull and reliable were the watchwords of the Victorians.

Stuck-in-a-Book couldn’t be considered the centre of technological advancement in the Western World, but I got an interesting email this week from Litopia, a podcast about writing and all related malarkey. As far as I’m aware, podcasts are like radio, but released over the internet on a regular basis. Actually, what is the difference between radio and podcast? Someone tell me, if they know… All the news they gave is below for your perusal, but I’ll give you my viewpoint for now…

True, I’ve only had time to listen to one podcast – it’s the one from 1st June – and I’m impressed! The discussion was wide-ranging – what started with Dickens’ desk coming up for auction wended into Abe Lincoln’s hair and Britney Spears’ chewing gum… Are writing courses the new mental hospitals? Robert McCrum talks about how the literary world has changed over the past ten years; James Bond and plagiarism… A wonderful mixing pot of popular interest and highbrow topics, some witty commentators, and the amusing phenomenon of ‘ [comma] England’ being added after every place name.

Pop along and have a listen. Nice to see bookishness taking over everywhere…

THE WORLD’S FIRST DAILY PODCAST FOR WRITERS IS HERE

London, UK. LITOPIA DAILY is the world’s first daily podcast for
writers. Employing a combination of leading-edge technology and
old-fashioned showmanship, it aims to become an indispensible part of every
writer’s day. The team behind LITOPIA DAILY are particularly keen to solicit
news and contributions from writers everywhere – especially from
non-traditional sources – and they have an easy and innovative method to
facilitate contributions.

HISTORY

Six months ago, Litopia Writers’ Colony launched the first weekly panel
show for writers – LITOPIA AFTER DARK. Hosted by Peter Cox, the show
quickly attracted rave reviews (winning an unequalled 9.5 marks out of
ten on the review site Podwatch). Every week, thousands of listeners
download LITOPIA AFTER DARK shows – making it one of the fastest-growing
podcasts in the world. Guests have included some of the most exciting
and innovative figures in writing and publishing.

Building on that success, Litopia Writers’ Colony is proud to launch
the world’s first daily podcast for writers – LITOPIA DAILY. Says host
Peter Cox:

“With things changing so quickly in the publishing industry, it makes
sense to produce a short, daily podcast where writers can get their
daily fix of news, comment and – we know what you like – entertainment,
too. LITOPIA DAILY is going to be succinct and to the point – it’ll give
you what you need to know when, or before, you need to know it. Like a
morning coffee, it’ll set you up for the day!”

INTRODUCING THE OPEN INBOX

“LITOPIA DAILY is in the vanguard”, says Peter. “So, as you’d expect
from us, we’re doing something very radical indeed. We call it – the
Open Inbox.”

Litopia’s Open Inbox is a simple web address that allows contributors
to drop anything into the inbox… notes… pictures… faxes… phone messages…
and e-mails, of course. “We go through our Open Inbox several times
every day, looking for great material to include in the next day’s show”
says Peter.

“Not everything will make it”, he adds, “but material that’s witty and
original – and short and sharp -stands a very good chance of getting
included.”

DROP OFF A COMMENT

Eve Harvey, Podcast officer for Litopia Writers’ Colony, explains how
contributors will use it. “You might want to send us a note about your
new book that’s coming out”, she say. “Or send us a press release.
Or, you might want to record a phone message to give a comment on
yesterday’s show. Yes – the Open Inbox will take phone calls, too! Or maybe
you’d like to upload a file of some kind – perhaps, an audio file for
possible inclusion in LITOPIA DAILY.”

Litopia’s Open Inbox uses cutting-edge technology pioneered by Drop.io.
Simple instructions are given on the page here:

http://www.drop.io/litopia

The new show launches its public beta schedule from June 9th. “We’re
feeling our way” says Peter, “just as we did with LITOPIA AFTER DARK,
which took some months to naturally evolve. I don’t think listeners will
mind a work in progress to begin with. We really do want LITOPIA
DAILY to become an important part of writing life on the internet. And we
hope that our listeners will become an active part of this very
exciting new venture! ”

CONTACT DETAILS

• Unlike many forms of old media, we positively want to make it as
easy as possible for you to interact with us. We really do want to hear
from you! Contact us through our Drop.io address:

http://www.drop.io/litopia

• LITOPIA DAILY is constantly looking for interesting special guests
to take part in the show. Publicists looking to book a client or an
author are welcome to send an e-mail to Litopia’s Open Inbox with brief
details of the author concerned. Guest are booked approximately six
weeks ahead, and they are trailed in advance both on the website and also
in RSS feeds.

• Important: Any and all material sent to LITOPIA DAILY may be
broadcast. By sending us material, contribution or communication, the
contributor warrants that they are the legal owner and grants LITIOPIA DAILY an
irrevocable, non-exclusive license to use the material in any way seen
fit.

Trendy

StuckinaBook All 15 Comments

Booking Through Thursday time again, and a very good question this week which has got me thinking…

Have your book-tastes changed over the years? More fiction? Less? Books that are darker and more serious? Lighter and more frivolous? Challenging? Easy? How-to books over novels? Mysteries over Romance?

Well, there was a definite change in my tastes between 1985 and 1990…

Hmm. I suppose I’d be better qualified to answer this question in a few decades’ time, since I’m only twenty-two, and haven’t really had time to alter my reading patterns since I started reading ‘grown-up books’. Those started to appear on my horizon when I was about thirteen – up unto that point I’d gone from Enid Blyton to Goosebumps to Point Horror, with only some dips into Agatha Christie which could really count as more mature material. That’s an interesting development in my reading, actually – I certainly couldn’t cope with horror now, unless it’s heavily tempered by exaggerated Gothic aspects, such as Shirley Jackson’s novels.

So, interwar domestic literature became my reading choice of choice, and to a large extent it still is. I suppose my reading trends have mostly developed into being more widespread, because of a far-reaching English degree, and latterly all the review books I read. If it were up to me, I probably wouldn’t read so many modern books – but I don’t get sent much by authors writing in the 1930s, funnily enough! I try and dabble in more foreign works now, and more non-fiction (though still almost always connected with literature in some way). So perhaps I’m in the midst of a widening phase, and will settle with some favourites in a few years’ time. I wouldn’t like to spend the rest of my reading life trying out new things all the time – it would be like always trying to find a comfortable chair, and never buying one. By all means, dip toes in lots of pies (to mix metaphors in a rather unhygenic way), but I need a comfort zone to which to retreat. Or, rather, quality guaranteed.

Over to you…