The Line of Beauty - Alan Hollinghurst (Bloomsbury, 2004)
...and the last in my trilogy of Sunday posts. This was the book I started reading first, and the one that I finally just finished this morning. And I can't decide what that says about the book itself.
First, let me set the scene. Nick is a young gay man in early 1980s London, an Oxbridge grad who is living with an upper-class friend's family. The father has just been elected to Parliament, right as Thatcher was re-elected (I think). "The Lady" is an enormous figure in the book, although she herself appears only briefly, and it was a (lucky?) coincidence that she died while I was reading the book, and I got to see why she loomed so controversially larger than life in the minds of Britons. Meanwhile, the inexperienced Nick gets his first taste of sex and reciprocated love, which spirals out of control in the way only the '80s really could.
The prose was beautiful. So lovely and readable. Once I picked up the book, I tended to read in great big chunks. But I wasn't compelled to sneak in reading time, which is how it lingered while I snuck in two (lesser) books.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Ashes ashes they all fall...
Reached - Ally Condie (Dutton Books, 2012)
Book One was just Cassia, Book Two introduced Ky's POV, so no surprise that in the final entry of the trilogy we get Cassia, Ky, and Xander. (As I was hoping for.)
Because I'm not in the mood for spoilers, there isn't a whole lot to share without giving away too much. But the rebellion against Society comes to a head, and things get out of control, and somehow -- like in all great revolutions -- three teenagers are the key to saving the world.
If you're really in it for the love triangle, which I'll admit I may have been, you may find yourself feeling a little unsatisfied. On the other hand, you get to face the exciting possibility that instead of Cassia being torn between two very different loves, both guys may decide on a future that moves on without her. [For Vampire Diaries watchers, this is akin to wanting Stefan to run off with Caroline and Damon to run off with ... well, someone, and Elena to sit around wondering how she somehow stopped being the center of attention. And don't we all kind of want that?]
Anyway, super propulsive read. I kept trying to find ways to sneak in chapters despite the fact that I spent the whole weekend running around doing other stuff. (And finishing up yet another book - post coming shortly....)
Book One was just Cassia, Book Two introduced Ky's POV, so no surprise that in the final entry of the trilogy we get Cassia, Ky, and Xander. (As I was hoping for.)
Because I'm not in the mood for spoilers, there isn't a whole lot to share without giving away too much. But the rebellion against Society comes to a head, and things get out of control, and somehow -- like in all great revolutions -- three teenagers are the key to saving the world.
If you're really in it for the love triangle, which I'll admit I may have been, you may find yourself feeling a little unsatisfied. On the other hand, you get to face the exciting possibility that instead of Cassia being torn between two very different loves, both guys may decide on a future that moves on without her. [For Vampire Diaries watchers, this is akin to wanting Stefan to run off with Caroline and Damon to run off with ... well, someone, and Elena to sit around wondering how she somehow stopped being the center of attention. And don't we all kind of want that?]
Anyway, super propulsive read. I kept trying to find ways to sneak in chapters despite the fact that I spent the whole weekend running around doing other stuff. (And finishing up yet another book - post coming shortly....)
Computer reading
Strange Bedpersons - Jennifer Crusie (HQN, 1994, 2009)
Was playing around with ebooks and ended up downloading this to my computer, and then discovering that I couldn't transfer it to my iPhone. (Note to self: pay more attention to ebook downloading rules)
Anyway, adorable. Took my laptop to bed with me a few times so I could read this tale of a free-spirit teacher and a yuppie attorney finding love. Much cuteness, and a nice escape during a busy period. But be prepared for pretty much every romance stereotype under the sun.
Was playing around with ebooks and ended up downloading this to my computer, and then discovering that I couldn't transfer it to my iPhone. (Note to self: pay more attention to ebook downloading rules)
Anyway, adorable. Took my laptop to bed with me a few times so I could read this tale of a free-spirit teacher and a yuppie attorney finding love. Much cuteness, and a nice escape during a busy period. But be prepared for pretty much every romance stereotype under the sun.
Friday, April 05, 2013
The descent, and the struggle back
The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath (Bantam Books, 1971)
One of the things that has made me nuts for years about this book was that I would see "bell jar" and think "bell curve" -- no matter what I did, I couldn't shake that immediate association, and who wants to read a book about depression while you're thinking about statistics and averages and such.
Welcome to my brain, ladies and gentlemen.
This paperback belonged to my mom, and apparently she bought it shortly before her 27th birthday. (It's weird to think of parents as being adults, but still younger than you are now.) None of this is particularly relevant to my review, but I did find myself wondering about the various eras of the book and how it was read... Plath's lightly fictionalized autobiography is about events in the early 1950s, was written mostly in the early '60s before her suicide in 1963, came out in 1971, and here I am reading it 30 years later. Our culture's relationship with mental illness has changed drastically over the past 60 years, and Plath's tale likely played some role in that. Would I have been her, or her alter ego heroine Esther, had I lived in a different time?
Which takes me to the point I wanted to make about this book all along. I was so struck by how much this book reminded me of The Catcher in the Rye. (Of course, I hated that book passionately, and quite liked this one.) Both seem to speak directly to young people, assuring them that others too feel that same sense of alienation from the world around them. (The list of artists and works that do this goes on and on, but for whatever reason, these two seemed perfectly paired.) Even more so, Esther Greenwood, like Holden Caulfield, has a strong (and to my mind unreasonable) abhorrence of hypocrisy and phoniness. This seems particularly strange coming from Esther, who plays the phony game so so well. But man does she judge other people harshly.
I'm babbling quite a bit. I'm glad I finally read The Bell Jar, and can more clearly consider its place in 20th century literature, and society more generally. I also wish I could know how my 16 y.o. self would have met it. Would she have had as little tolerance for Esther as she did Holden? Would she have any idea how much sympathy she would have for her a decade and a half later?
One of the things that has made me nuts for years about this book was that I would see "bell jar" and think "bell curve" -- no matter what I did, I couldn't shake that immediate association, and who wants to read a book about depression while you're thinking about statistics and averages and such.
Welcome to my brain, ladies and gentlemen.
This paperback belonged to my mom, and apparently she bought it shortly before her 27th birthday. (It's weird to think of parents as being adults, but still younger than you are now.) None of this is particularly relevant to my review, but I did find myself wondering about the various eras of the book and how it was read... Plath's lightly fictionalized autobiography is about events in the early 1950s, was written mostly in the early '60s before her suicide in 1963, came out in 1971, and here I am reading it 30 years later. Our culture's relationship with mental illness has changed drastically over the past 60 years, and Plath's tale likely played some role in that. Would I have been her, or her alter ego heroine Esther, had I lived in a different time?
Which takes me to the point I wanted to make about this book all along. I was so struck by how much this book reminded me of The Catcher in the Rye. (Of course, I hated that book passionately, and quite liked this one.) Both seem to speak directly to young people, assuring them that others too feel that same sense of alienation from the world around them. (The list of artists and works that do this goes on and on, but for whatever reason, these two seemed perfectly paired.) Even more so, Esther Greenwood, like Holden Caulfield, has a strong (and to my mind unreasonable) abhorrence of hypocrisy and phoniness. This seems particularly strange coming from Esther, who plays the phony game so so well. But man does she judge other people harshly.
I'm babbling quite a bit. I'm glad I finally read The Bell Jar, and can more clearly consider its place in 20th century literature, and society more generally. I also wish I could know how my 16 y.o. self would have met it. Would she have had as little tolerance for Esther as she did Holden? Would she have any idea how much sympathy she would have for her a decade and a half later?
Tuesday, April 02, 2013
Boo...
Ghosts in the Middle Ages: The Living and the Dead in Medieval Society - Jean-Claude Schmitt, trans. Teresa Lavender Fagan (University of Chicago Press, 1998)
Why hello historical monograph. I carved out time to do a quick read (not quite a skim, but close) of this very scholarly work over the last few days. It exercised the muscles I developed in grad school the first time around, when I was reading at least 1000 pages weekly of history, philosophy, primary texts, etc. I was so good at reading for content and argument then. But in the intervening years, those skills have waned quite a bit.
But not so much that I couldn't get into the text. Schmitt is exploring the role of ghosts in medieval culture, primarily how they (or rather the way people talked about them) evolved. The church played a primary role, of course, but there was some amount of room for older traditions of the dead. Anyway, there was a lot of souls stuck in purgatory, asking those still living to do something (pray, make financial arrangements) to better their lot in the afterlife. And somehow there was a tie-in to the tradition of charivari, which was more typically related to marriages that threatened society in some way (widowers taking young wives, widows remarrying unexpectedly, cuckolding). But the point is clearly that ghosts exist because of the function they serve for the living.
As a fan of the social construction of pretty much everything, I am down with this. And it's convincing. And yet, as a believer in ghosts - or at my most skeptical, an agnostic - I find myself working facing a bit of a quandary. If ghosts manifest in response to social expectations and constructions, can they still have an objective reality? I vote yes, although I can't imagine Schmitt agrees with me.
Why hello historical monograph. I carved out time to do a quick read (not quite a skim, but close) of this very scholarly work over the last few days. It exercised the muscles I developed in grad school the first time around, when I was reading at least 1000 pages weekly of history, philosophy, primary texts, etc. I was so good at reading for content and argument then. But in the intervening years, those skills have waned quite a bit.
But not so much that I couldn't get into the text. Schmitt is exploring the role of ghosts in medieval culture, primarily how they (or rather the way people talked about them) evolved. The church played a primary role, of course, but there was some amount of room for older traditions of the dead. Anyway, there was a lot of souls stuck in purgatory, asking those still living to do something (pray, make financial arrangements) to better their lot in the afterlife. And somehow there was a tie-in to the tradition of charivari, which was more typically related to marriages that threatened society in some way (widowers taking young wives, widows remarrying unexpectedly, cuckolding). But the point is clearly that ghosts exist because of the function they serve for the living.
As a fan of the social construction of pretty much everything, I am down with this. And it's convincing. And yet, as a believer in ghosts - or at my most skeptical, an agnostic - I find myself working facing a bit of a quandary. If ghosts manifest in response to social expectations and constructions, can they still have an objective reality? I vote yes, although I can't imagine Schmitt agrees with me.
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