Showing posts with label classic fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label classic fiction. Show all posts

Sunday, August 14, 2022

House Made of Dawn by N. Scott Momaday

This Pulitzer Prize-winning novel was first published in 1968. It's centered around Abel, a young Native American who returns to New Mexico from serving in the war in 1945. But he is no longer the young man he once was. 
"Abel walked into the canyon. His return to town had been a failure, for all his looking forward. He had tried in the days that followed to speak to his grandfather, but he could not say the things he wanted; he had tried to pray, to sing, to enter into the old rhythm of the tongue, but he was no longer attuned to it."
Things get worse. In 1952 he ends up in Los Angeles, just out of prison, still lost, and still drinking too much. 

Momaday's writing is very descriptive and poetic, though not always straightforward. There are jumps in time and narrative voice that I found confusing in places; there's also a dream-like, surreal quality to his slowly unfolding narrative that I didn't love. It made it hard to connect to Abel. In fact, over half of the novel isn't even told from his point of view. The author gives the reader glimpses from his past, and one memory from his time in the war, and a few scenes with him in Los Angeles, but the biggest part of his story is related by his roommate, Ben. It's a unique way to tell a story but one that didn't quite work for me. 

Abel's story is very sad, and I had a lot of sympathy for him. And I thought this novel was interesting. But I didn't love it. Still, I'm not sorry I read it. Especially because it counts as my "Classic by a BIPOC Author" for Karen's Back to the Classics Challenge. 

Happy Reading!

For a much better review of this book, check out Kathy's at Reading Matters; she's the one who first made me aware of this classic novel. 

 


Friday, November 19, 2021

My last classic of 2021...

 

Pinocchio, by Carlo Collodi, was first published in 1881. Collodi (whose real name was Carlo Lorenzini) never married or had children. He lived in Florence, Italy. He decided to write for children "because adults are too hard to please!" Pinocchio was his first children's book. And it counts as my 19th Century Classic for Karen's Back to the Classics Challenge.  (Sorry, Anthony Trollope! I'll have to tackle Can You Forgive Her? next year.)

After reading this one, I have to say, I like Disney's version better. It's cuter, and Pinocchio is more likable, and there are fun songs to sing! 

In the book, Pinocchio is impetuous, selfish, prone to temper tantrums, thoughtless, gullible and easily swayed. He never listens to the good advice he's given; but he always follows the bad influences he meets. In chapter 4, he even throws a wooden mallet at the book's version of Jiminy Cricket, killing him. Boy was that a surprise! Pinocchio makes mistake after mistake. Sometimes he feels bad and promises to do better, but his promises never seem to last. And he has one misadventure after another. It's not until after he rescues Gepetto from the gigantic shark that swallowed him, and then works selflessly to nurse him back to health, that Pinocchio changes for the better and finally becomes a real boy. 

So, I didn't love this one. But it was interesting to see how it compares to the Disney version. And, as my twelfth classic of 2021, it completes my Back to the Classics Reading Challenge for this year. So, yay! I'm proud I actually managed to finish all twelve categories this time around. 

Happy Reading!

Tuesday, July 17, 2018

Earth Abides by George R. Stewart

Written in 1949, Earth Abides is a post-apocalyptic novel that explores what happens to civilization as we know it when a viral pandemic wipes out the vast majority of people. Isherwood "Ish" Williams, a solitary graduate student with an interest in ecology and in studying the relationship between man and nature, is one of the few survivors. His curiosity to see what will happen next is what helps keep him alive.
"In spite of the horror of the situation he felt a curious spectator's sense about it all, as if he were watching the last act of a great drama. This, he realized, was characteristic of his personality. He was a student, an incipient scholar, and such a one was necessarily oriented to observe, rather than to participate."
In Part I, Ish criss-crosses the country with his beagle, Princess, hoping to find a community of like-minded survivors he can join, but the few people he meets along the way are not people he wants to make a life with. So he returns to his home in California where he chances upon a woman named Em.
The strangeness! In the old world, it might well never have happened. Out of destruction had come, for him, love.
Part II begins 21 years later. The Tribe, made up of Ish and Em and their children and a few other families has survived, but they haven't really begun to create their own society; they still depend on scavenged items like matches and canned food (which would NOT still be good after 20+ years). And none of them seem too interested in perpetuating even the most basic skills like reading and math. Ish tries, but there is a lethargy to the others in his tribe that he is helpless to change. And at last he gives up.
His observation of what was happening kept him interested in life. At first, just after the Great Disaster, he had devoted himself to observing the changes in the world as the result of the disappearance of man. After twenty-one years, however, the world had fairly adjusted itself ... now, the problem of society--its adjustment and reconstruction--had moved to the fore and become his chief interest.
Still, the Tribe continues on, and Ish continues to observe them until the end of his life. Children are born. Others die. The rats from the city reach a population crisis and swarm. As do the ants, and the  wild cows. One stranger threatens their way of life. Typhoid strikes. There's a fire. And civilization as we know it dies out along with Ish, the last one who can remember it.


"Men go and come, but earth abides." --Ecclesiastes 1:4

This is a quiet, introspective novel, and a thoughtful look at what could happen if 98% of mankind was wiped out all at once. But for me it was a little disappointing. I kept waiting for what was happening to matter more to those involved...or for something more to happen. But the novel, like the members of Ish's tribe, just kept plodding along. Year after year, with little sense of urgency. I found it a little frustrating. There should be more drama when the world ends, shouldn't there? Don't get me wrong, this isn't a bad read, and Stewart writes well, I just found it hard to care about any of his characters other than Ish, and Ish himself held back a lot and mostly thought about and observed what was happening without taking action to change any of it. Although, he did teach the children to make bows and arrows. And his Tribe does end up surviving. So there you go. But it all felt so removed from me that I wasn't that invested in any of it; mostly, I just didn't care.  Supposedly, this is the novel that inspired Stephen King's The Stand, but King's post-apocalyptic saga is a much more interesting and compelling read, with lots of characters that you can root for, at least in my opinion.

Happy Reading!

Thursday, June 30, 2016

The Mill on the Floss

At the heart of George Eliot's novel is young Maggie Tulliver and her brother, Tom. Their father is a simple mill owner who loves his "dark-eyed, demonstrative, rebellious girl" and hopes to improve his son's lot in life with a good education. But life in an Eliot novel doesn't always go as planned. Mr. Tulliver loses his mill on the Floss in a court case to Mr. Wakem, and when he dies, Maggie and Tom don't have much beyond each other, and their three officious aunts. (They actually have a fourth aunt who is kind, but very poor having eight children of her own.)

The two Tulliver children are a study in contrasts. Maggie is clever and impulsive; she often acts rashly, then as quickly repents. She has a passionate nature, intense feelings, and a need to love and be loved. Tom, on the other hand, is not as clever or sensitive as his younger sister, though he is handsome. Honor and respectability matter to him. And he has a strong sense of justice and of his own rightness, which, at times, can make him a bit cold and heartless. But he does love his sister.

As Maggie grows into a lovely young woman, two men fall in love with her. Only the first is Wakem's son, a young man that Maggie has promised her brother never to speak to again, and the second is her cousin's fiancee. Though grown up, Maggie is still impulsive and passionate, and she struggles to reconcile her feelings for these two young men with what she feels she owes both her brother and cousin.
"...life is very difficult! It seems right to me sometimes that we should follow our strongest feeling ... But I see there are things we must renounce in life; some of us must resign love. Many things are difficult and dark to me, but I see one thing quite clearly:  that I must not, cannot, seek my own happiness by sacrificing others."
In The Mill on the Floss, Eliot manages to chronicle two ordinary, rather provincial lives from childhood into adulthood and make them extraordinary.  Especially Maggie's. Though sad, her story is memorable and moving. And while I can't say that she's my favorite literary heroine, I will never forget her.
Maggie's destiny, then, is at present hidden, and we must wait for it to reveal itself like the course of an unmapped river; we only know that the river is full and rapid, and that for all rivers there is the same final home.
This is the last of my June rereads, so it's on to new books next week. 

Happy Reading!

Friday, July 31, 2015

My Twelfth TBR...

Disclaimer:  I love Henry James. Ever since I first read The Portrait of a Lady I have been an unapologetic fan of his writing. So, I am not objective when it comes to his books; in fact, you might say I am predisposed to like whatever he writes. Including this novel:


The Princess Casamassima by Henry James is about a boy named Hyacinth Robinson. His mother, an unmarried French dressmaker, murders his father, an English nobleman, when he is just a baby. Hyacinth  is raised in poverty by a kind-hearted but humble dressmaker; he grows up hating the sordity of his surroundings, and the ugliness and ignorance of those around him, and longs for a better, finer existence.
"By the nature of his mind he was perpetually conscious that the circle in which he lived was an infinitesimally small, shallow eddy in the roaring vortex of London, and his imagination plunged again and again into the waves that whirled past it and round it, in the hope of being carried to some brighter, happier vision -- the vision of societies in which, in splendid rooms, with smiles and soft voices, distinguished men, with women who were both proud and gentle, talked about art, literature, and history."
As a young man he befriends some revolutionary idealists consumed with injustice, class warfare, socialism, and fighting for the downtrodden masses against those in power. (Although for most of the book they're more talk than action.) Hyacinth gets drawn into their radical politics and, in a rash moment of youthful fervor, makes a "sacred vow" to assassinate a major political figure when called upon. But it's the dazzling Princess Casamassima, also caught up in the "Great Social Cause", who really impacts Hyacinth's life. In her brilliance and beauty he finally finds the world he's been searching for (although it seemed to me that she was using him as a stepping stone to something, or someone, greater; I had a hard time liking her as much as Hyacinth did). Things go wrong for Hyacinth when his radical leanings start to conflict more and more with his own vision of the world and all the good that he sees in it, and he soon comes to regret the vow he made.

Honor, integrity, and nobility of character always play an important role in James' novels; his characters are often tormented by their own internal struggles and the choices they are forced to make, which means his endings are rarely happy. The Princess Casamassima is no exception. This novel is a tragedy. And while it will never be my favorite Henry James novel, I think Hyacinth Robinson will linger in my mind for awhile. The biggest plus of finishing this book is that, at 590 pages, it qualifies as my "Very Long Classic Novel" in Karen's Back to the Classics Challenge.

Happy Reading!


My four favorite Henry James novels: 
  1. The Portrait of a Lady
  2. The Wings of the Dove
  3. The Awkward Age
  4. The American

Thursday, June 25, 2015

Back to the Classics...

Do you know what I liked best about Elizabeth Gaskell's Cranford?

"In the first place, Cranford is in possession of the Amazons; all the holders of houses above a certain rent are women ... the ladies of Cranford are quite sufficient ... (And) although the ladies of Cranford know all each other's proceedings, they are exceedingly indifferent to each other's opinions. Indeed, as each has her own individuality, not to say eccentricity, pretty strongly developed, nothing is so easy as verbal retaliation; but, somehow good-will reigns among them."
 I read that Mrs. Gaskell preferred Cranford to all her other books, and I can see why. It's a subtle comedy of manners set in a quaint English village with a delightful cast of characters. There's Captain Brown, who proclaims his poverty in a too-loud voice, and his two spinster daughters: Mary, who's ailing, and Jessie, who has a dimpled smile.  Then there's the sedate and proper Miss Deborah Jenkyns, the former rector's eldest daughter, and her gentle and kind-hearted sister, Matty. They live alone with one household serving maid who isn't allowed "followers". Miss Jenkyns helps set the tone for the town.

Cranford is a town of card games and caps, with rules for visiting and plenty of praise for "elegant economy" over vulgar displays of money. Along with the humdrum and ordinary, it has its share of tragedy and thwarted love affairs. There is also the return of a long lost brother, truer than true friends, and more than one happy ending. Cranford is a charming place to while away the afternoon (and an even more charming book). And since it was published in 1853, it counts as my 19th century classic for Karen's Back to the Classics Challenge. (It's also the tenth book from my TBR shelf.)

Happy Reading!

Thursday, April 16, 2015

Another Classic...

A conversation between Isabella Thorpe and Catherine Morland:
"...when you have finished Udolpho, we will read The Italian together; and I have made out a list of ten or twelve more of the same kind for you."
"Have you indeed? How glad I am! What are they all?"
"I will read you their names directly...Castle of Wolfenbach, Clermont, Mysterious Warnings, Necromancer of the Black Forest, Midnight Bell, Orphan of the Rhine, and Horrid Mysteries. Those will last us some time."
"...but are they all horrid? Are you sure they are all horrid?"

 The Castle of Wolfenbach by Eliza Parsons is one of those "horrid novels" mentioned (and mocked) by Jane Austen in Northanger Abbey. It's a classic Gothic novel of virtue vs. villainy and it is full of Gothic cliches. The main character, Matilda Weimar, is an orphan who must flee her guardian's questionable protection. She stumbles upon Castle Wolfenbach which is purportedly haunted. There she meets Victoria, the Countess of Wolfenbach, who has a scheming and evil husband and a dark secret of her own. In the first 48 pages alone there is an abduction, a mystery, a murder and even arson. Matilda's fate and Victoria's virtuous struggle to free herself from her villainous husband, along with romance and many declarations of love, take up the rest of the novel. But, as Eliza Parsons promises, Providence favors these "poor creatures" in the end.

This isn't the worst novel ever written, but it's not the greatest either. Still, I tried to enjoy it for what it is--one of those "horrid novels" that Jane Austen poked fun of, with damsels in distress, too many counts and countesses to count, overwrought situations, and more than enough moralizing. Towards the end, I found myself heartily agreeing with one of the characters when she exclaimed: "Let's have no more dismals; I declare these last five days have vapored me to death." But I got through it and completed another category in the 2015 Back to the Classics Challenge: read a classic novel written by a woman author. As a bookish bonus, it's also one more book checked off my TBR list.

Happy Reading!

Thursday, March 12, 2015

It finally came (three months late)...

Thomas Hardy's A Pair of Blue Eyes was supposed to be my last classic of 2014, but due to a series of library mishaps, it took a little longer to get a copy than I planned. And then, when a copy finally did come, I wasn't sure I still wanted to read it. Fortunately, once I started, the plight of Hardy's main character, Elfride Swancourt, kept me reading to the end (even though, in typical Hardy fashion, this novel does not have a happily-ever-after ending).

Inexperienced and unworldly, Elfride Swancourt is the one with eyes as "blue as autumn distance...a misty and shady blue that had no beginning or surface, and was looked into rather than at." The daughter of a vicar, she meets Stephen Smith, an architect's apprentice, when he comes to survey their church; the two quickly fall in love, but Stephen's parents are too low in station for Elfride's father to consent to their marriage. So, they elope to London instead. Only Elfride backs out at the last moment and returns home, undiscovered and unmarried. But that one moment of youthful haste and indiscretion comes back to haunt her later in life.
"I did not see all the consequences," she said.
This seems to be a theme of Hardy's. Tess of the D'urbervilles and Jude the Obscure did not "see all the consequences" either. And unhappiness followed. It makes me glad I live in a world where forgiveness and redemption and second chances are possible, and not in a Hardy novel, where they're not. I have to say that while this particular novel will never be my favorite, I always appreciate Hardy's style of writing and how he never fails to expand my vocabulary with words like penetralia, tergiversation, and couchant. As for his characters, I think I had the most sympathy for Stephen Smith, and some for Elfride as well, that young lady whom children looked upon "as an unusually nice large specimen of their own tribe than as a grown-up elder"; but I'm afraid I couldn't drum up any sympathy for Elfride's other suitor, Henry Knight. I didn't really like him at all. So, that's my last classic of 2014 finally completed. I think the next Thomas Hardy novel I read will be either Far From the Madding Crowd or The Woodlanders. But that might not be for awhile. So, until then...

Happy Reading!

Monday, March 2, 2015

A Classic Children's Novel

The Independence of Nan by Nina Rhoades
Published, August 1916

"I must just try to make the best of things."

That is 15-year-old orphan Nan Howard's motto when her grandfather dies leaving all his money to her step-grandmother, Mrs. Barnes. Soon after, Nan is shipped off to stay with her Uncle James and Aunt Maud, whom she's never met; they are kind, but they have four children of their own and no real room for Nan in their cramped house. Still, Nan tries to stay cheerful and help out her cousins. "I will try to be just as little trouble as I can." Needing money, Nan becomes a companion to the sad little crippled girl next door whom she teaches to play 'the glad game' (from Eleanor Porter's popular Pollyanna, which was published in 1913). But change is on the horizon for this plucky heroine. There's a mystery to solve, a new adventure to be had, a near-drowning, something sad and something glad.

This novel, with its optimism and its old-fashioned values, is sweetly predictable, but I think that's why I liked it so much. I like that Nan is not only "a brick", but "kind-hearted" and "as true as steel", too. (Although I did roll my eyes when she was described as having a "housewifely soul".) And I like that no matter how many hardships come her way, she perseveres and ultimately triumphs. Her old-fashioned values still ring true with me. Maybe that's why I love so many of these classic children's novels. (And why I can't resist buying them when I find them.) So, here's to Nan Howard and all plucky heroines everywhere!

Happy Reading!

P.S. Not only is The Independence of Nan another book from off my TBR shelf that I've now read, but it also fills a category for me in this year's Back to the Classics Challenge ... a double bookish bonus!

Monday, February 9, 2015

Two Novellas

Edith Wharton was a keen observer of society and a chronicleer of her times. There's an elegance and a clarity to her writing that makes her one of my favorite authors. Her novels (and novellas!) are thoughtful, biting, artistic, witty, and often beautifully sad. Although not published until 1916, Bunner Sisters was written in 1892, making it one of Wharton's earlier works. It's the story of Ann Eliza and Evelina Bunner, two sisters who own a small shop in a shabbier part of New York.
"The Bunner sisters were proud of the neatness of their shop and content with its humble prosperity. It was not what they had once imagined it would be, but though it presented but a shrunken image of their earlier ambitions it enabled them to pay their rent and keep themselves alive and out of debt; and it was long since their hopes and soared higher."
Then they meet Mr. Herman Ramy, a German clockmaker, who awakens new hopes and dreams in both sisters. And for awhile their days are livelier and full of bright possibilities. But Ann Eliza soon realizes she must sacrifice her own happiness for that of her younger sister's.
"That night, after the light went out, the elder sister knelt longer than usual at her prayers. In the silence of the darkened room she was offering up certain dreams and aspirations whose brief blossoming had lent a transient freshness to her days. ... Grief held up its torch to the frail fabric of Ann Eliza's illusions, and with a firm heart she watched them shrivel into ashes..."
She hopes her own renunciation will be repaid in her sister's future joy. But life isn't that equitable, not for Ann Eliza and Evelina. These two sisters are not the wealthy elite of old New York that Wharton usually writes about. (And you definitely don't want to be single and poor in Wharton's world.) In the end, there are no gilded dreams for either Bunner sister.

I actually found this novella fairly depressing. My heart went out to Ann Eliza, but I found it harder to sympathize with self-absorbed Evelina. And while there were moments in this story that I loved, the ending left me feeling dissatisfied and wanting a little more. Which is why I found myself reaching for another of Wharton's novellas.


 Set in Paris, Madame de Treymes tells the story of American Fanny Frisbee, who is unhappily married to the Marquis de Malrive, and her childhood friend, John Durham, who has come to France to ask Fanny to marry him.  "She lifted a cleared gaze to his. 'My direct answer then is: if I were still Fanny Frisbee I would marry you.'" But the question of Fanny divorcing her husband is complicated by his family, his religion, and their son--an eight-year-old boy who neither side will give up. John turns to Madame de Treymes, Fanny's sister-in-law, for advice and help. But she wants something from him in return. 
She wanted money, a great deal of money: that was clear, but it was not the point. She was ready to sell her influence, and he fancied she could be counted on to fulfil her side of the bargain ... but he knew that ... she wanted the money for someone else..."
 And John's innate sense of honor revolts at the idea. He'd rather sacrifice his own happiness than do anything that would hurt Fanny.

This 72-page novella is really a clash of cultures: a rigid, very traditional, old French family vs. the unpolished but monied and moralistic Americans. More importantly, it's also a battle of happiness vs. honor, which is classic Edith Wharton. And maybe why I liked Madame de Treymes a little more than Bunner Sisters. But both novellas are beautifully written and well worth your time.

Happy Reading!

Monday, August 25, 2014

Eighth Classic of 2014...

The Odd Women by George Gissing

Written in 1893, this novel deals with the role of unmarried women in Victorian society. Some of Gissing's characters are militantly single and opposed to women marrying; some are women of independent means generously trying to help other, poorer women achieve the same; and some of the women just want to get married. I liked the mix of views; they gave the novel added depth and made it feel more honest. Rhoda Nunn is one of Gissing's militant characters. Her take on single women in society made me smile:
"Do you know there are half a million more women than men in this happy country of ours? So many odd women--no making a pair with them. The pessimists call them useless, lost, futile lives. I, naturally--being one of them myself--take another view. I look upon them as a great reserve. When one woman vanishes in matrimony, the reserve offers a substitute for the world's work."
Monica Madden, on the other hand, is the youngest of three single sisters. She's working as a shop girl in London when she meets an older gentleman named Edmund Widdowson. Although she doesn't love him, she wonders if marrying him might not be such a bad thing. After all, her older sisters don't appear to be very happy or satisfied in their single lives.
"As things went in the marriage war, she might esteem herself a most fortunate young woman. It seemed that he had really fallen in love with her; he might prove a devoted husband. She felt no love in return; but between the prospect of a marriage of esteem and that of no marriage at all there was little room for hesitation. The chances were that she might never again receive an offer from a man whose social standing she could respect."
I really enjoyed reading about these 'odd women'. Their lives are funny and sad, sometimes fulfilling, (more often not), hopeful, poignant and brave. As a single girl myself, I could relate. I also enjoyed Gissing's style of writing. It's as if he borrowed the best of Jane Austen--her characters and her wit--and combined it with Thomas Hardy's gritty realism. There aren't a lot of happy endings (or happy marriages) in his world, but then this book is a criticism of Victorian society and its oppression of women, not a romantic fairy tale. There were moments when I wished for a little more happiness, especially for Monica and Rhoda because I liked them both so much. But, in books as in life, we don't always get what we want. Still, I'm very glad I read this book.

 

Saturday, July 19, 2014

Seventh Classic of 2014....

The Odyssey: A Graphic Novel by Gareth Hinds

--Based on Homer's Epic Poem

I know what you're thinking...how can a graphic novel version of The Odyssey count as a classic read? It can't. But when I went to the library a few weeks ago every copy of the original version was already checked out. Can you believe that? So, I was debating whether to go buy a cheap copy, or choose a different classic to read this month when I spotted this graphic novel and thought, "Why not? Might be fun."

And it was. Gareth Hinds stays true to the original story, even quoting a few passages from some of his favorite translations. And the illustrations really speed the story along, especially through some of the less exciting parts of the story. I've read The Odyssey once before (in high school), and I still intend to read the real version again (once my hold comes in at the library), but I'm not sure I like Odysseus very much. Sure he has some cool adventures--escaping the cave of Polyphemus is probably my favorite--but he's also arrogant and a little vengeful, and he ends up causing a lot of his own problems, either through his own actions, or his own inaction. And then, while his wife, Penelope, is stuck at home for seventeen years faithfully fending off suitors, he's off hooking up with Calypso and Circe. What a guy. So, I'm not a huge fan of Odysseus at the moment. But maybe he just comes across that way in this particular version. I guess I'll have to wait for the original read to decide for sure. So until my hold comes in at the library...

Happy Reading!