I have never read Pride and Prej before. The only work of Austen's that I have read before is Sense and Sensibility, which I loved. I live just down the road from where Austen used to live even (Chawton in Hampshire, England) but for years I dismissed her as some unemancipated ancient writer of pathetic romances. The films of Pride and Prejudice (with Keira Knightly) and Becoming Jane (with Anne Hathaway) decidedly dumbed-down her work and her life. I am now an Austen convert, partly due to my enjoyment of S&S; a BBC production a few years ago called Miss Austen Regrets (showed her as an intelligent, fearless, mischevious real, living person) and my reading of P&P.
Jane Austen's style is fully formed in P&P, with all the wit and humour that wasn't quite always there in S&S. I found that things start hotting up around chapter 20. In the past I have never got past chapter 5. I found that I had to persevere with it, but by around chapter 20 I was hooked. Reading the book also reveals that Mr Collins, a character whom I have always found to be almost disturbing, is much more complex and harmless than he appears in the more recent film and 1990's BBC adaptation. He is a character whom I have found much more readable than watchable.
But for me the most interesting difference between the book and all its adaptations is the character of Elizabeth Bennet. She is always portrayed as a very sympathetic character in the TV/film adaptations. The book mostly follows her, but interestingly the narrative voice also reveals the experiences of other characters, and not just Mr Darcy. Elizabeth's aunt Mrs Gardiner, Miss Bingley and even Wickham's feelings and thoughts come through, which I found gave much greater depth to the story. However, I was surprised by what an uncomfortable heroine Eliza becomes. At the beginning of the book she is shown as lively, playful, young but also sharply intelligent and well-mannered. As the story progresses however, her manners remain but her intelligence becomes blunted by her prejudices. Of course, this is the whole point of the story, but I found her much less sympathetic and interesting as the book continued. She is almost irritatingly stubborn and unforgiving, which though an effective narrative tool in the book, hardly comes across in the adaptations for screen. In short, I think the characters of the book are much deeper and more complex than I had previously realised, and than are given credit in the screen adaptations.
I am glad that I am reading this book now, just a year younger than Elizabeth is in the book. Often I find that Jane Austen novels are recommended as excellent books for quite young female readers, but Austen's writing (or maybe her editors', as has recently been suggested) is so skilfull that had I read this book when I was younger, the wit, complexity and sharply observed humanity of the book would have completely passed me by.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Skirrid Hill by Owen Sheers, and The Wolf poetry magazine
I am staying with my mum in where she lives in Wales over Christmas and luckily for me she has introduced me to a poet who comes from this part of the world: Owen Sheers. He's a young poet, and is very popular with a local shopkeeper just up our lane. I have begun his poetry collection 'Skirrid Hill' (the Skirrid is a mountain over the county border from us in Monmouthshire, and has a very distinctive silhouette) although he has also written a novel and some non-fiction, and has won lots of prestigious prizes and accolades for all his work.
So, Skirrid Hill, by Owen Sheers. Now here is a poetic talent. From one of the first poems in the collection, 'Mametz Wood', it was clear that Sheers can stick ordinary words together and make music with them: 'broken bird's egg of a skull', the delicious oxymoron of 'nesting machine guns'. Poems such as 'Winter Swans' and 'Keyways' continue this ('porcelain over the stilling water'; 'the milling and grooves/ of moments in time'). Relationships and separations are the key themes of the collection but are represented in very original ways and a real playful but understated use of language.
I have also been reading issue 23 of The Wolf magazine, but this is a completely different experience to the elation I feel over reading one of Sheers' carefully constructed, thoughtful poems. Perhaps the best thing about the magazine is the use of Scott Anderson's amazing artwork (I'd call it half Dali, half Bacon). The poetry is pretentious and seems to be excruciatingly intellectual for pretension's sake. Evan Jones' 'Self Portrait with Argos the Hundred-Eyed' had me groaning from the first line ('many-eyer, many-eyer...') and Alfred Corn's 'Cheiromancy' is incomprehensible without extensive use of a dictionary (perhaps just down to my own lack of intellect, but something that has nonetheless marred my enjoyment of the poem). I have reread that particular poem several times, trying to decipher it, and even after looking up the numerous words that I didn't understand I still have no idea what the poem is about. The translated works that make up a large part of the magazine are quite interesting, and there is also lots of criticism included. An interview with Alfred Corn makes as much high-brow sense as his poetry. Cool artwork, nice quality paper, but all I can say is give me Magma any day!
Owen Sheers' work is the complete opposite. His use of language is innovative but without pretentiousness. The works are thoughtful and confident, whereas The Wolf smacks of try-hard-wannabe-let's-see-how-many-long-words-I-can-fit-in-a-single-poem. I will definitely be reading more of Sheers in the future.
So, Skirrid Hill, by Owen Sheers. Now here is a poetic talent. From one of the first poems in the collection, 'Mametz Wood', it was clear that Sheers can stick ordinary words together and make music with them: 'broken bird's egg of a skull', the delicious oxymoron of 'nesting machine guns'. Poems such as 'Winter Swans' and 'Keyways' continue this ('porcelain over the stilling water'; 'the milling and grooves/ of moments in time'). Relationships and separations are the key themes of the collection but are represented in very original ways and a real playful but understated use of language.
I have also been reading issue 23 of The Wolf magazine, but this is a completely different experience to the elation I feel over reading one of Sheers' carefully constructed, thoughtful poems. Perhaps the best thing about the magazine is the use of Scott Anderson's amazing artwork (I'd call it half Dali, half Bacon). The poetry is pretentious and seems to be excruciatingly intellectual for pretension's sake. Evan Jones' 'Self Portrait with Argos the Hundred-Eyed' had me groaning from the first line ('many-eyer, many-eyer...') and Alfred Corn's 'Cheiromancy' is incomprehensible without extensive use of a dictionary (perhaps just down to my own lack of intellect, but something that has nonetheless marred my enjoyment of the poem). I have reread that particular poem several times, trying to decipher it, and even after looking up the numerous words that I didn't understand I still have no idea what the poem is about. The translated works that make up a large part of the magazine are quite interesting, and there is also lots of criticism included. An interview with Alfred Corn makes as much high-brow sense as his poetry. Cool artwork, nice quality paper, but all I can say is give me Magma any day!
Owen Sheers' work is the complete opposite. His use of language is innovative but without pretentiousness. The works are thoughtful and confident, whereas The Wolf smacks of try-hard-wannabe-let's-see-how-many-long-words-I-can-fit-in-a-single-poem. I will definitely be reading more of Sheers in the future.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Tess of the Durbervilles by Thomas Hardy
I've always been put off Thomas Hardy's work: the only work of his that I've ever read before is 'Channel Firing', a poem in the anthology 'Up the Line To Death', full of the best poetry the First World War produced. I don't know what put me off; maybe it was watching part of the depressing story of Tess on the BBC a couple of years ago, or my mum telling me that "Dickens does humour. Hardy doesn't". Whatever it was, I am absolutely loving this book.
It's a classic, and I know that everyone has already read it, but I am looking at it with newly converted eyes. It is truly amazing. Apart from the fact that it must have been very controversial at the time it was published, and that Hardy must have been quite a brave man to write and publish such work (insisting, in the sub heading, that Tess remains " a pure woman" even after her rape, murdering someone, etc) I find that it is beautifully written. Hardy's turn of phrase it absolutely deft, his meaning is always sharp and concise and yet the language used is very dreamlike and almost poetic. One of my favourite phrases so far has been "the spectral, half-compounded, aqueous light". Aqueous light! Genius!! And although it is a sad story, there are touches of humour and hope throughout the book.
I also think he writes characters very well. My view of Tess before I began the book was that of Gemma Arterton in the BBC adaptation. She was a character whom I couldn't relate to; she was very pathetic and naive and too stupid to keep herself out of trouble. Tess in the book is the complete opposite. She stands up for herself, and even though she senses danger she almost sacrifices herself to try and do the best she can for her family. Even after her rape, and the death of her baby, she refuses to be beaten. She is determined to make a life for herself. She refuses to crawl in a corner and die. She's a spirited, clever heroine. She's aware of the dangers around her but is bound by her overiding sense of responsibility, and most of all, I get the impression that Tess knows herself. Despite being embarrassed by her past, I don't think she is ashamed of herself. As for the other characters in the book, Hardy writes the human condition perfectly: Angel's hypocrisy and Alec's undertone of darkness even after he has turned over a new leaf for example. He writes humans very observantly and well.
I love the imagery in the book. Apart from the "aqueous light" (love that phrase!!!!!!!) a lot of emphasis is placed on Tess's face, particularly her mouth. There's the sense that her good looks lead her to her doom, but at the same time Tess can speak sharply and perceptively and smile. It's just something I've noticed as I've been reading the book. Tess's mouth seems a crucial, emphasised part of her character.
So. I haven't finished the book yet but I highly recommend it, and I will definitely be reading more Thomas Hardy in the future.
It's a classic, and I know that everyone has already read it, but I am looking at it with newly converted eyes. It is truly amazing. Apart from the fact that it must have been very controversial at the time it was published, and that Hardy must have been quite a brave man to write and publish such work (insisting, in the sub heading, that Tess remains " a pure woman" even after her rape, murdering someone, etc) I find that it is beautifully written. Hardy's turn of phrase it absolutely deft, his meaning is always sharp and concise and yet the language used is very dreamlike and almost poetic. One of my favourite phrases so far has been "the spectral, half-compounded, aqueous light". Aqueous light! Genius!! And although it is a sad story, there are touches of humour and hope throughout the book.
I also think he writes characters very well. My view of Tess before I began the book was that of Gemma Arterton in the BBC adaptation. She was a character whom I couldn't relate to; she was very pathetic and naive and too stupid to keep herself out of trouble. Tess in the book is the complete opposite. She stands up for herself, and even though she senses danger she almost sacrifices herself to try and do the best she can for her family. Even after her rape, and the death of her baby, she refuses to be beaten. She is determined to make a life for herself. She refuses to crawl in a corner and die. She's a spirited, clever heroine. She's aware of the dangers around her but is bound by her overiding sense of responsibility, and most of all, I get the impression that Tess knows herself. Despite being embarrassed by her past, I don't think she is ashamed of herself. As for the other characters in the book, Hardy writes the human condition perfectly: Angel's hypocrisy and Alec's undertone of darkness even after he has turned over a new leaf for example. He writes humans very observantly and well.
I love the imagery in the book. Apart from the "aqueous light" (love that phrase!!!!!!!) a lot of emphasis is placed on Tess's face, particularly her mouth. There's the sense that her good looks lead her to her doom, but at the same time Tess can speak sharply and perceptively and smile. It's just something I've noticed as I've been reading the book. Tess's mouth seems a crucial, emphasised part of her character.
So. I haven't finished the book yet but I highly recommend it, and I will definitely be reading more Thomas Hardy in the future.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
The Soho Leopard by Ruth Padel
Ruth Padel is one of Britain's foremost poets but sadly she seems less well-known than the likes of Carole Ann Duffy. If you haven't come across Padel before, she's a descendent of Charles Darwin, has a real way with words and yes, she is the one who used some very devious tactics trying to get a job at Oxford University. But you have to forgive her this when you read her poems. She should probably be given on a plate any poetry job you care to name.
I'm reading Padel's collection of poems entitled 'The Soho Leopard'. It isn't her most recent but it is fairly new, and from the very beginning it is clear that her poetry is what I can only describe as beautiful, and tackles a range of subjects, but mostly depicts the sheer beauty of animals and humans and life. In 'Tiger Drinking at Forest Pool', she uses the phrase "flame of the crackle-glaze tangle", which is the first line in ages that has put a huge dopey grin on my face as I read it. What beautiful language - say it allowed, taste it on your tongue. Magic. This sets the tone for the rest of the poems in the collection - tongue-tinglingly exciting English with a magical, almost narrative thread to each poem. In 'Surfaces' there is the line 'soft-soot open-mouth kiss of pulsing gills'. She uses words like 'oolithic' and 'ormolu'. Every poem is just that - pure poetry.
One of the most stimulating and enjoyable books I've read in a long, long time. Just thinking about it makes me smile again. It's finger-licking good.
I'm reading Padel's collection of poems entitled 'The Soho Leopard'. It isn't her most recent but it is fairly new, and from the very beginning it is clear that her poetry is what I can only describe as beautiful, and tackles a range of subjects, but mostly depicts the sheer beauty of animals and humans and life. In 'Tiger Drinking at Forest Pool', she uses the phrase "flame of the crackle-glaze tangle", which is the first line in ages that has put a huge dopey grin on my face as I read it. What beautiful language - say it allowed, taste it on your tongue. Magic. This sets the tone for the rest of the poems in the collection - tongue-tinglingly exciting English with a magical, almost narrative thread to each poem. In 'Surfaces' there is the line 'soft-soot open-mouth kiss of pulsing gills'. She uses words like 'oolithic' and 'ormolu'. Every poem is just that - pure poetry.
One of the most stimulating and enjoyable books I've read in a long, long time. Just thinking about it makes me smile again. It's finger-licking good.
Monday, October 25, 2010
The Infernal Desire Machines of Doctor Hoffman by Angela Carter
I finished this book a couple of weeks ago. Quick background: written in the 70's by Angela Carter, a famous British novelist whose other works include Wise Children. This is the first book of hers that I have read. I'd been wanting to read her for a while, as I kept seeing her mentioned in the literary magazines I read.
The Infernal Desire Machines of Doctor Hoffman is told by Desiderio, an old man looking back on the adventures of his youth, which he spent fighting against the fantastical unreality caused by evil Doctor Hoffman. These illusions kind of seeped into the real world and turned it upside down. People, objects and places that weren't real plagued the inhabitants of Desiderio's home city, somewhere in South America, wreaking absolute havoc and providing Doctor Hoffman with extraordinary power. At the same time Desiderio finds himself attracted to Doctor Hoffman's elusive daughter Albertina.
During his struggle to outwit the Doctor, Desiderio encounters a family of natives who take him in as one of their own, before revealing their sinister plans for him, a Lithuanian count with some weird sado-masochistic thing going on, and a clan of very religious centaurs who decide it would be a good idea to nail horse shoes to his feet.
The novel is very surrealist; lots of deep, meaningful stuff going on here. But I found it easy to immerse myself in the strangeness and fantasy through Carter's exceptional descriptions. She writes in a very lyrical way, rendering the magical landscapes she creates almost tangible. The simplistic storyline I've related here doesn't really do the story justice; it's as complex and varied as Jonathan Swift's Gullivers' Travels - quite a similar format, detailing an extraordinary journey through fantasy worlds.
Carter's style made my imagination run riot, but still allowed her to give little clues away at various points, which definitely helped to keep me hooked and broke up the vivid descriptions, which despite being beautiful may otherwise have overwhelmed the storyline. The beginning chapter in fact reveals the outcome of Desiderio and Albertina's affair, but I found these spoilers enthusing rather than irritating; they just made me want to keep reading.
The book is probably on the very edge of my intellectual understanding but I think perhaps its main theme is dominance over other (human?) beings. Doctor Hoffman, despite his disappointingly normal appearance as described at the end of the book, is something of a power hungry maniac; in every culture that Desiderio visits the women are the underdogs - either married off hideously young, forced to eat their first born children alive or tattooed from head to foot (or head to hoof?) because of course, women were created to suffer; the Count recounts in disgusting detail his enjoyment of torturing others; Desiderio's native tribe decide to assimilate his power of literacy by eating him; the story is punctuated by violent rapes; Albertina has her own plans for Desiderio that despite their being in love she refuses to reveal. It's a gory book full of suffering and pain, explored in all its many types, and revealing the underlying primitive violence of human nature and even supposedly civilised society. The novel shows how a desire to dominate can overtake us, even over the supposedly all-powerful emotion of love. It was definitely a book that made me think.
So, in short, highly delectable descriptive language that will have your tongue tingling as you read, but a fairly heavy going, complex, and thought-provoking read.
The Infernal Desire Machines of Doctor Hoffman is told by Desiderio, an old man looking back on the adventures of his youth, which he spent fighting against the fantastical unreality caused by evil Doctor Hoffman. These illusions kind of seeped into the real world and turned it upside down. People, objects and places that weren't real plagued the inhabitants of Desiderio's home city, somewhere in South America, wreaking absolute havoc and providing Doctor Hoffman with extraordinary power. At the same time Desiderio finds himself attracted to Doctor Hoffman's elusive daughter Albertina.
During his struggle to outwit the Doctor, Desiderio encounters a family of natives who take him in as one of their own, before revealing their sinister plans for him, a Lithuanian count with some weird sado-masochistic thing going on, and a clan of very religious centaurs who decide it would be a good idea to nail horse shoes to his feet.
The novel is very surrealist; lots of deep, meaningful stuff going on here. But I found it easy to immerse myself in the strangeness and fantasy through Carter's exceptional descriptions. She writes in a very lyrical way, rendering the magical landscapes she creates almost tangible. The simplistic storyline I've related here doesn't really do the story justice; it's as complex and varied as Jonathan Swift's Gullivers' Travels - quite a similar format, detailing an extraordinary journey through fantasy worlds.
Carter's style made my imagination run riot, but still allowed her to give little clues away at various points, which definitely helped to keep me hooked and broke up the vivid descriptions, which despite being beautiful may otherwise have overwhelmed the storyline. The beginning chapter in fact reveals the outcome of Desiderio and Albertina's affair, but I found these spoilers enthusing rather than irritating; they just made me want to keep reading.
The book is probably on the very edge of my intellectual understanding but I think perhaps its main theme is dominance over other (human?) beings. Doctor Hoffman, despite his disappointingly normal appearance as described at the end of the book, is something of a power hungry maniac; in every culture that Desiderio visits the women are the underdogs - either married off hideously young, forced to eat their first born children alive or tattooed from head to foot (or head to hoof?) because of course, women were created to suffer; the Count recounts in disgusting detail his enjoyment of torturing others; Desiderio's native tribe decide to assimilate his power of literacy by eating him; the story is punctuated by violent rapes; Albertina has her own plans for Desiderio that despite their being in love she refuses to reveal. It's a gory book full of suffering and pain, explored in all its many types, and revealing the underlying primitive violence of human nature and even supposedly civilised society. The novel shows how a desire to dominate can overtake us, even over the supposedly all-powerful emotion of love. It was definitely a book that made me think.
So, in short, highly delectable descriptive language that will have your tongue tingling as you read, but a fairly heavy going, complex, and thought-provoking read.
Welcome
Welcome to Literania, my blog about reading, books, and words.
My name is Flo, I'm a student and a total bookworm, although I like lots of other things too, namely food, sports, art, music, nature, you name it. I blog about gardening and sustainability at http://arfellian.blogspot.com. Please take a look!
I started this blog because I am reading more than ever before and I need a way to organise the books I've read, in my own mind really. So here I can review books, generally pontificate about literature and hopefully share my love of the written world with many people from all around the world. So please feel free to comment and to offer your thoughts, and to recommend other books!
Flo :)
My name is Flo, I'm a student and a total bookworm, although I like lots of other things too, namely food, sports, art, music, nature, you name it. I blog about gardening and sustainability at http://arfellian.blogspot.com. Please take a look!
I started this blog because I am reading more than ever before and I need a way to organise the books I've read, in my own mind really. So here I can review books, generally pontificate about literature and hopefully share my love of the written world with many people from all around the world. So please feel free to comment and to offer your thoughts, and to recommend other books!
Flo :)
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