Of all joys the most blessed: I found Middlesex! One day I just walked into the library, resolved to just get my Sandman fix and leave without looking, and there it was on a special stand.
It was worth the trauma. I didn't really know what to expect - the book had attracted me on the fluidity of its writing, and this continued to impress me. It was a very easy read - in the way that Alexandre Dumas or Victor Hugo is an easy read. They might be long, but the words just zip off the page in a way more concice novelists such as Jane Austen don't. In other words, I could skim read it - and I got through the tome in two four hour sessions.
There was something necessarily artificial about its history - the scenes such as Smyrna or the race riots were convincingly written, but as soon as we got to a subject I knew something about, I saw through the trick at once. I've been to Ellis Island, and his description matched almost line by line the guided tour we took. But that isn't necessarily a great crime.
The most striking thing about this book was its sense of culture. Cal is on the divide between male and female - but she is also a Greek-American, and Eugenides never let us forget it. Hence we get American cars, American race riots, American schools and shops clashing with Greek traditions, names, meals and incessant Homer references. I liked them - not only because they made me feel smug - but in the way they were used. The occasional "sing muse" was basic enough, but the description "wine dark" - always applied to the sea by Homer - was used of a car. I thought that was very impressive - subtle, but also cool. There's this concept of the Great American Novel - a book actually about America itself - and with the generations counting down from 1920 to the 1980s, at times this was what it seemd to be. Wikipedia suggests it is the equivalent of a national epic, which I rather like. It also suggests that Cal's coming of age is intertwined with the saga of her family - I disagree entirely. If anything, Cal is secondary, and the main interest seems to be changing country and the passing times. Maybe it is significant that an adult Cal has chosen to leave her birth country and move from place to place instead.
In many ways it reminded me of Lolita - another classic on The List which zings off the page in a similar style. Nabokov slips subtle literary references all the way through his book - from addressing Lolita as "Miranda" when asking if she remembers an inn, to getting his childhood sweetheart who he knew by the sea mixed up with the poetical figure Annabel-Lee.
Characters? Well, the opening romance between Lefty and Desdemona was adorable, but while the Callie-Obscure Object relationship was filled with all the unfufilled longing of true love, it was all a bit generic.
Incidentally, in looking for some interesting opinions on the book, I found the New York Review of books had said almost the same thing as me: http://www.nybooks.com/articles/15794. Which makes it right.
So that's another one down. Right now, I am finishing The Castle of Otranto and Vathek - two gothic novels I have already half-started and got bored with at various times. It didn't help that my English teacher mocked Otranto mercilessly to give us a good idea of what the gothic was when we began to study the genre. I have difficulty taking it seriously now - plus, the absence of speech marks or indents makes skimming it, or reading it at any speed at all, almost impossible. I'm looking forward to Vathek more - it dips into the same stylised hedonism as Picture of Dorian Gray does, and Byron called it his "Bible".
Incidentally, I looked out the cinematic equivalent of this list - 1001 films to see before you die, second edition. I watch films at a prolific rate - for example, I watched three yesterday. I'm 16% done on that, and I've been deliberately watching classic/highbrow movies for several years now...does this mean anything?
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Saturday, June 14, 2008
It's alive...It's ALIVE!
I have my exam on the gothic genre next week. Our task is this: to analyse an unseen passage from a gothic text; and then to compare and contrast any two gothic novels in answer to a question. One of which must be Frankenstein (or the Dead School, which I enjoyed but wouldn't want to write on).
That means I get to choose me own for the other. I haven't settled for sure yet. In our mock exam, I still hadn't chosen (and therefore, revised) a book; but I know The Picture of Dorian Gray backwards, and the question ("society creates its own monsters") was irresistable.
Anyway, this is the fruit of my revision this morning. I've skimmed through the first 16 chapters, and it got me athinking...
Frankenstein, or rather Mary Shelley, has a particular compass of vice and virtue. There are repeated scenes of nursing - the highest human virtue seems to be the ability to deny your own needs and emotions for the supply of fellow creatures.
Agatha and Felix go hungry to feed their father. Elizabeth remains cheery after the death of their mother for the sake of cheering them. Justine nursed mother Frankenstein. Mother Frankenstein, Catherine Beaufort, cheerily denied herself for the sake of her ailing father. Clerval nurses our hero when he discovers him ill.
At the opposite end of this scale, the ultimate misery is loneliness. Walton's chief desire on the way to the arctic is to have a buddy; so is the Monster's, and he becomes evil through his lack of friends. Victor is revived by the help of Clerval - there are many more examples within the book I've forgotten.
I sympathise greatly with Frankenstein, despite my teacher's attempt to portray the creature as the hero, just as last year we were supposed to view Dracula as the good guy. I disagree with both - Dracula of the books is certainly a complete villain. The Creature is slightly more sympathetic at times, but standing up and saying "I only became evil because I had a bad childhood" doesn't count. If you can recognise that so clearly, you are certainly rational enough to take responsibility for your own behavior. When the Creature says "if you comply with my demands, I'll go away and be happy; otherwise I'll destroy your life" these are actually Mary Shelley's thoughts. Because otherwise it's not an emotional response - its a calculated threat. It's sad if you are so unhappy you kill someone. A tragic crime of passion. A red ball. But if the day before you say "if I become unhappy, I will kill someone", you're an stone cold psycho. See my drift?
But I digress. I like Frankenstein, but if you judge him by this moral compass, I'm not sure you're meant to...
After the death of little William, Alphonse Frankenstein recalls his son from Ingolstadt for the sake of consoling them - but it doesn't work, he merely sinks neck-deep in misery, and claims he is more wretched than the about-to-be-killed Justine. I quote: "The poor victim, who was on the morrow to pass the awful boundary between life and death, felt not, as I did, such deep and bitter agony... The tortures of the accused did not equal mine; she was sustained by innocence, but the fangs of remorse tore my bosom and would not forego their hold". Similarly, his descent into the creation of the monster is marked by his cutting himself off from family without communication. He shows absolute uselessness in both valuable qualities, of consoling and helping his loved ones, and being a good sociable person. So maybe he is intended to be a villain after all?
The role of an English teacher is to stimulate thought on books, and my two are really quite excellent. Doesn't change the fact they're often wrong - just playing devil's advocate to make us consider things.
But again, in the case of Elizabeth, I find myself agreeing with their typically ludicrous interpretation. There is something just downright creepy about her. To start with, Frankenstein is a book about a creature which is ugly but good. But our heroine's goodness seems linked with her beauty - just look at the radiant imagery surrounding her. So is Shelley saying goodness is or isn't shown by external appearance?
It's worse than the Picture of Dorian Gray - Basil says you can judge people by appearances, but we know that's not true because the flawless Dorian is completely rotten inside. However, every time he sins the picture does become uglier, suggesting the exact opposite - that as people become spiritually ugly, they also become physically ugly. And this is why I'm not going to choose The Picture of Dorian Gray as the other gothic novel for my exam on Wednesday -because it is far too good, far too paradoxical, and unlike Frankenstein, I'm not willing to smash out some bull about the whole thing being a metaphor for syphillis. Or whatever.
Item 2 - nature vs. nurture. Elizabeth is gorgeous, and one of five children, the other four being
"dark eyed, hardy little vagrants". We then discover that the others are all the children of peasantfolk, while Elizabeth is actually the adopted daughter of a nobleman. Her beauty marks her out as noble - i.e. nature shapes who we are. She was born of fine parents, and she grows up to be a fine woman. You'll notice there are very few peasants in Frankenstein - Agatha and Felix were noblefolk who came to poverty through a noble deed and endure with a wonderful spirit. So also is Catherine Beaufort, Frankenstein's Mother, discovered in poverty after having been cast down from nobility. Again, enduring with patience and nobility. But the creature's goodness and evil are both the result of nurture. He is born a blank slate - the kindess of the De Lacey's, the cruelty of M. Frank and the rest of the world all combine to motivate his actions. Mary Shelley's unfortunate nobles continue to behave nobly in whatever state, suggesting nature will triumph over all adversity; but not so with the monster. Conflicting messages?
And that's even before you get onto the twisted family stuff. Elizabeth and Victor grow up together as brother and sister, but calling each other cousin. Just as Mother Frankenstein dies she both expresses the desire for their "union", and charges Elizabeth to be a mother to the remaining children. Um, disturbing much? Elizabeth refers to Victor's brothers as she would her own children, despite the fact they later marry. And then after fleeing the creature, he has a dream when he kisses Elizabeth who then turns into his mother's rotting corpse. I'm the worlds biggest hater of the oedepal answer - Freud was a nut as far as I'm concerned (or am I just in denial...?), at least in terms of fiction - but I think you've got a case here.
(Incidentally, I believe it was in Cold Fusion - Doctor Who fiction, don't stop listening - they had a psychologist robot called a "Freudroid". Genius!)
My teacher does place a lot more stock on the idea of Frankenstein "penetrating nature" and assailing its citadels to create life, while he could, how shall we put this, be at home with Elizabeth as his wife and creating life in a much more conventional manner. I think his reluctance to marry and seeming lack of care is just tied in with the selfishness above - he gushes with respect for everyone in this story, but doesn't have time for any of them.
Another idea which she suggested which I do like is Victor as a reaction to her husband, the genius, and the sacrifices which end up getting made to great men. He did drag her around Europe while pregnant. Without getting too creepy, Victor was also P. Shelley's pen name, and he had a sister called Elizabeth.
Although I'm not convinced of the suggestion that the creature doesn't exist, and Victor comitted the murders. You've got to work hard to read that one. Mind you, I'm convinced the oedepal reading of Hamlet is entirely unsubstantiated by the text, and supported by theatrical tradition alone - and look how prevalant that interpretation is!
Maybe I'm so willing to dissect because I don't like the book. I'm dead fond of Dracula; and so while I dashed off a passable essay about the fear of vampirism representing the Victorian fear of female sexual expression, I do still think it's total bollocks. Bram Stoker was writing about vampires. If you enjoy the book more fizzed up with an interpretation, be my guest. But I don't think it was written as a confession of closet homosexuality, a comment on British imperialism, Marxist tendancies or sexually transmitted diseases.
But I was willing to plunge into analysing Atonement, a book I didn;t like at first bat, and came to love it through taking it to pieces and seeing how it ticked. Maybe it is the same for Frankenstein?
And I do feel it is a flawed book. The story is solid, but strangely unsatisfying.
I absolutely hate the C18-19th century insistance on using framing devices to make their stories "real". Wuthering Heights has the useless Lockwood hearing the story, Dracula has the internal fiction of the story constructed from various papers preserved. The Castle of Otranto comes with an explanation claiming it has been translated from ancient Italian. It's daft. It's as if they justify the writing of fiction by treating it as fact. Now I always treat my fiction as real - if you don't believe it, then it can't effect you. It's stupid to shed tears for people who never existed. This is why I was so peeved off at Atonement for shattering its own internal realitu. One of my chief excuses for not converting to any religion is yes, of course I believe the Gospels, and the Old Testament, and the teachings of Mohammed too. And I also believe in Harry Potter, Winnie the Pooh and the Happy Prince. In the past, religious teachings were dressed up in stories to make them accessable for the commonfolk - Jesus' parables are all about farming. But I can't let it work on me, because I believe everything told as a story.
My gosh, where was I? Very, very distracted. Ah yes - the irritating early-lit habit of pretending to be real. I suppose you could call "thematic" on Frankenstein - Victor tells Robert his story, the Creature tells his to Victor, and throughout exposition for minor characters come by way of "let me tell you about so and so..." - but all the while, Frankenstein itself was created as a story to tell Polidori, Percy and Byron in that Genevese villa. But somehow I don't think she was trying to be that smart.
So we have Robert Walton, concieved as a device for making the fantastic story real. I hate him already. And then there's Victor. I do have more sympathy for him than the Creature. But I still don't care about him - which is bizarre, considering I fall for guilt-stricken heroes like lead in water. Elizabeth is completely absent - a plot cypher, no more. The Creature is just irritating. He's a walking warning, a moral on legs. Who's left? Clerval is sweet, but quite frankly the most interesting part is the relationship between Beaufort and Alphonse Frankenstein, which occupies a paragraph at the start of the first chapter. That would make a fantastic story.
I don't even like her style - at least in Atonement I could respect his skill as an author. The gushing kills me. Not a character passes without their voice being the sweetest, their sentiment the noblest, their appearance the loveliest, from minor character Waldman to the almost obscene level of praise Walton has for Victor - "He excites at once my admiratuion and my pity to an astonishing degree. How can I see so noble a creature destroyed by misery without feeling the most poignant grief? he is so gentle, yet so wise; his mind is cultivated, and when he speaks, although his words are culled with the choicest art, yet they flow with rapidity and unparallelled eloquence." And on, and on, and on. Get a room, boys.
Argue, if you like, that Tolkien does it too - Middle Earth is packed with greatests and gorgeouses - but he is writing about a realm of heroes. It's Homer with hobbits. What's Frankenstein's excuse? It's set in Europe!
I suppose it is a key feature of the gothic to employ too many adjectives. It was certainly my sister's main assessment of Edgar Allen Poe.
All in all, my judgement is Frankenstein is more important for what came after than as literature in its own right. Doctor Who's "Brain of Morbius" and Buffy's "Some Assembly Required" owe royalties to Ms Shelley, to name but two. Investigation reveals that X-files tried it too, in the episode "Post-Modern Prometheus" (damn cool title - "A Modern Prometheus" is Frankenstein's sub-title. At least someone did their homework)
Boris Karloff! Young Frankenstein! Frank-n-Furter resurrecting Rocky, the perfect man, in Rocky Horror Picture Show. Lurch from the Addams Family. Herman Munster. A D&D adventure my dad wrote a few years ago. " Certainly the popular image of Frankenstein - bolts and all - is a product of the movies, not the novel. Today's post title, "It's alive!", was chosen precicely because it ISN'T in the book (but see Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith for Darth Vader's rebirth...). Less said about Van Helsing the better.
If you look instead for influence than cheap rip offs, what about Blade Runner? Or 2001: A Space Odyssey? Man creating something he cannot control; man creating a monster; man becoming a monster through his interferance with science - these are the three basic tenets of science fiction! I, Robot, man screws up. Battlestar Galactica. The robots of The Matrix. The Island of Doctor Moreau. Not for nothing do some people call Frankenstein the original science fiction novel.
And in listing those shows, those movies, those books, what a large list of things I'd rather be watching or listening to...
At least the other gothic novel I've picked out to study is one I adore. But more on that later...
(and I found Middlesex! I'm about half way through, more on that later too...)
That means I get to choose me own for the other. I haven't settled for sure yet. In our mock exam, I still hadn't chosen (and therefore, revised) a book; but I know The Picture of Dorian Gray backwards, and the question ("society creates its own monsters") was irresistable.
Anyway, this is the fruit of my revision this morning. I've skimmed through the first 16 chapters, and it got me athinking...
Frankenstein, or rather Mary Shelley, has a particular compass of vice and virtue. There are repeated scenes of nursing - the highest human virtue seems to be the ability to deny your own needs and emotions for the supply of fellow creatures.
Agatha and Felix go hungry to feed their father. Elizabeth remains cheery after the death of their mother for the sake of cheering them. Justine nursed mother Frankenstein. Mother Frankenstein, Catherine Beaufort, cheerily denied herself for the sake of her ailing father. Clerval nurses our hero when he discovers him ill.
At the opposite end of this scale, the ultimate misery is loneliness. Walton's chief desire on the way to the arctic is to have a buddy; so is the Monster's, and he becomes evil through his lack of friends. Victor is revived by the help of Clerval - there are many more examples within the book I've forgotten.
I sympathise greatly with Frankenstein, despite my teacher's attempt to portray the creature as the hero, just as last year we were supposed to view Dracula as the good guy. I disagree with both - Dracula of the books is certainly a complete villain. The Creature is slightly more sympathetic at times, but standing up and saying "I only became evil because I had a bad childhood" doesn't count. If you can recognise that so clearly, you are certainly rational enough to take responsibility for your own behavior. When the Creature says "if you comply with my demands, I'll go away and be happy; otherwise I'll destroy your life" these are actually Mary Shelley's thoughts. Because otherwise it's not an emotional response - its a calculated threat. It's sad if you are so unhappy you kill someone. A tragic crime of passion. A red ball. But if the day before you say "if I become unhappy, I will kill someone", you're an stone cold psycho. See my drift?
But I digress. I like Frankenstein, but if you judge him by this moral compass, I'm not sure you're meant to...
After the death of little William, Alphonse Frankenstein recalls his son from Ingolstadt for the sake of consoling them - but it doesn't work, he merely sinks neck-deep in misery, and claims he is more wretched than the about-to-be-killed Justine. I quote: "The poor victim, who was on the morrow to pass the awful boundary between life and death, felt not, as I did, such deep and bitter agony... The tortures of the accused did not equal mine; she was sustained by innocence, but the fangs of remorse tore my bosom and would not forego their hold". Similarly, his descent into the creation of the monster is marked by his cutting himself off from family without communication. He shows absolute uselessness in both valuable qualities, of consoling and helping his loved ones, and being a good sociable person. So maybe he is intended to be a villain after all?
The role of an English teacher is to stimulate thought on books, and my two are really quite excellent. Doesn't change the fact they're often wrong - just playing devil's advocate to make us consider things.
But again, in the case of Elizabeth, I find myself agreeing with their typically ludicrous interpretation. There is something just downright creepy about her. To start with, Frankenstein is a book about a creature which is ugly but good. But our heroine's goodness seems linked with her beauty - just look at the radiant imagery surrounding her. So is Shelley saying goodness is or isn't shown by external appearance?
It's worse than the Picture of Dorian Gray - Basil says you can judge people by appearances, but we know that's not true because the flawless Dorian is completely rotten inside. However, every time he sins the picture does become uglier, suggesting the exact opposite - that as people become spiritually ugly, they also become physically ugly. And this is why I'm not going to choose The Picture of Dorian Gray as the other gothic novel for my exam on Wednesday -because it is far too good, far too paradoxical, and unlike Frankenstein, I'm not willing to smash out some bull about the whole thing being a metaphor for syphillis. Or whatever.
Item 2 - nature vs. nurture. Elizabeth is gorgeous, and one of five children, the other four being
"dark eyed, hardy little vagrants". We then discover that the others are all the children of peasantfolk, while Elizabeth is actually the adopted daughter of a nobleman. Her beauty marks her out as noble - i.e. nature shapes who we are. She was born of fine parents, and she grows up to be a fine woman. You'll notice there are very few peasants in Frankenstein - Agatha and Felix were noblefolk who came to poverty through a noble deed and endure with a wonderful spirit. So also is Catherine Beaufort, Frankenstein's Mother, discovered in poverty after having been cast down from nobility. Again, enduring with patience and nobility. But the creature's goodness and evil are both the result of nurture. He is born a blank slate - the kindess of the De Lacey's, the cruelty of M. Frank and the rest of the world all combine to motivate his actions. Mary Shelley's unfortunate nobles continue to behave nobly in whatever state, suggesting nature will triumph over all adversity; but not so with the monster. Conflicting messages?
And that's even before you get onto the twisted family stuff. Elizabeth and Victor grow up together as brother and sister, but calling each other cousin. Just as Mother Frankenstein dies she both expresses the desire for their "union", and charges Elizabeth to be a mother to the remaining children. Um, disturbing much? Elizabeth refers to Victor's brothers as she would her own children, despite the fact they later marry. And then after fleeing the creature, he has a dream when he kisses Elizabeth who then turns into his mother's rotting corpse. I'm the worlds biggest hater of the oedepal answer - Freud was a nut as far as I'm concerned (or am I just in denial...?), at least in terms of fiction - but I think you've got a case here.
(Incidentally, I believe it was in Cold Fusion - Doctor Who fiction, don't stop listening - they had a psychologist robot called a "Freudroid". Genius!)
My teacher does place a lot more stock on the idea of Frankenstein "penetrating nature" and assailing its citadels to create life, while he could, how shall we put this, be at home with Elizabeth as his wife and creating life in a much more conventional manner. I think his reluctance to marry and seeming lack of care is just tied in with the selfishness above - he gushes with respect for everyone in this story, but doesn't have time for any of them.
Another idea which she suggested which I do like is Victor as a reaction to her husband, the genius, and the sacrifices which end up getting made to great men. He did drag her around Europe while pregnant. Without getting too creepy, Victor was also P. Shelley's pen name, and he had a sister called Elizabeth.
Although I'm not convinced of the suggestion that the creature doesn't exist, and Victor comitted the murders. You've got to work hard to read that one. Mind you, I'm convinced the oedepal reading of Hamlet is entirely unsubstantiated by the text, and supported by theatrical tradition alone - and look how prevalant that interpretation is!
Maybe I'm so willing to dissect because I don't like the book. I'm dead fond of Dracula; and so while I dashed off a passable essay about the fear of vampirism representing the Victorian fear of female sexual expression, I do still think it's total bollocks. Bram Stoker was writing about vampires. If you enjoy the book more fizzed up with an interpretation, be my guest. But I don't think it was written as a confession of closet homosexuality, a comment on British imperialism, Marxist tendancies or sexually transmitted diseases.
But I was willing to plunge into analysing Atonement, a book I didn;t like at first bat, and came to love it through taking it to pieces and seeing how it ticked. Maybe it is the same for Frankenstein?
And I do feel it is a flawed book. The story is solid, but strangely unsatisfying.
I absolutely hate the C18-19th century insistance on using framing devices to make their stories "real". Wuthering Heights has the useless Lockwood hearing the story, Dracula has the internal fiction of the story constructed from various papers preserved. The Castle of Otranto comes with an explanation claiming it has been translated from ancient Italian. It's daft. It's as if they justify the writing of fiction by treating it as fact. Now I always treat my fiction as real - if you don't believe it, then it can't effect you. It's stupid to shed tears for people who never existed. This is why I was so peeved off at Atonement for shattering its own internal realitu. One of my chief excuses for not converting to any religion is yes, of course I believe the Gospels, and the Old Testament, and the teachings of Mohammed too. And I also believe in Harry Potter, Winnie the Pooh and the Happy Prince. In the past, religious teachings were dressed up in stories to make them accessable for the commonfolk - Jesus' parables are all about farming. But I can't let it work on me, because I believe everything told as a story.
My gosh, where was I? Very, very distracted. Ah yes - the irritating early-lit habit of pretending to be real. I suppose you could call "thematic" on Frankenstein - Victor tells Robert his story, the Creature tells his to Victor, and throughout exposition for minor characters come by way of "let me tell you about so and so..." - but all the while, Frankenstein itself was created as a story to tell Polidori, Percy and Byron in that Genevese villa. But somehow I don't think she was trying to be that smart.
So we have Robert Walton, concieved as a device for making the fantastic story real. I hate him already. And then there's Victor. I do have more sympathy for him than the Creature. But I still don't care about him - which is bizarre, considering I fall for guilt-stricken heroes like lead in water. Elizabeth is completely absent - a plot cypher, no more. The Creature is just irritating. He's a walking warning, a moral on legs. Who's left? Clerval is sweet, but quite frankly the most interesting part is the relationship between Beaufort and Alphonse Frankenstein, which occupies a paragraph at the start of the first chapter. That would make a fantastic story.
I don't even like her style - at least in Atonement I could respect his skill as an author. The gushing kills me. Not a character passes without their voice being the sweetest, their sentiment the noblest, their appearance the loveliest, from minor character Waldman to the almost obscene level of praise Walton has for Victor - "He excites at once my admiratuion and my pity to an astonishing degree. How can I see so noble a creature destroyed by misery without feeling the most poignant grief? he is so gentle, yet so wise; his mind is cultivated, and when he speaks, although his words are culled with the choicest art, yet they flow with rapidity and unparallelled eloquence." And on, and on, and on. Get a room, boys.
Argue, if you like, that Tolkien does it too - Middle Earth is packed with greatests and gorgeouses - but he is writing about a realm of heroes. It's Homer with hobbits. What's Frankenstein's excuse? It's set in Europe!
I suppose it is a key feature of the gothic to employ too many adjectives. It was certainly my sister's main assessment of Edgar Allen Poe.
All in all, my judgement is Frankenstein is more important for what came after than as literature in its own right. Doctor Who's "Brain of Morbius" and Buffy's "Some Assembly Required" owe royalties to Ms Shelley, to name but two. Investigation reveals that X-files tried it too, in the episode "Post-Modern Prometheus" (damn cool title - "A Modern Prometheus" is Frankenstein's sub-title. At least someone did their homework)
Boris Karloff! Young Frankenstein! Frank-n-Furter resurrecting Rocky, the perfect man, in Rocky Horror Picture Show. Lurch from the Addams Family. Herman Munster. A D&D adventure my dad wrote a few years ago. " Certainly the popular image of Frankenstein - bolts and all - is a product of the movies, not the novel. Today's post title, "It's alive!", was chosen precicely because it ISN'T in the book (but see Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith for Darth Vader's rebirth...). Less said about Van Helsing the better.
If you look instead for influence than cheap rip offs, what about Blade Runner? Or 2001: A Space Odyssey? Man creating something he cannot control; man creating a monster; man becoming a monster through his interferance with science - these are the three basic tenets of science fiction! I, Robot, man screws up. Battlestar Galactica. The robots of The Matrix. The Island of Doctor Moreau. Not for nothing do some people call Frankenstein the original science fiction novel.
And in listing those shows, those movies, those books, what a large list of things I'd rather be watching or listening to...
At least the other gothic novel I've picked out to study is one I adore. But more on that later...
(and I found Middlesex! I'm about half way through, more on that later too...)
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Cry, the Beloved Country
Finished and adored Posession! If ever I had anything to say about either this, or Lolita, I have forgotten them - save enjoying both.
Cry the Beloved Country caught my attention by having a gorgeous title. It's a very clever book - it draws attention to the evils in Africa by showing us the good. Kind priests, with kind wives, living next to kind landowners with very, very kind sons - you love everyone in this novel, and in the midst of misery treasure every kind deed (and there are lots of these). Suggesting, I suppose, that the evil is just endemic - until root problems are solved, there is no hope for the individual. It was also very beautifully written. For a novel to be great, it doesn't have to be complex - this is as plain as a book could be, and through its simplicity expresses so much more. Highly recommended.
And certainly the polar opposite of Beloved by Toni Morrison, a gothic novel set in post-civil-war America. It's really dense, getting through is like wading through treacle. Its not like the words are long or the grammar complicated - it's just a book that doesn't enjoy being read, if you get me.
In the past few days, I've been going through something of a book lull - I can't find anything I want to read. I got through 4 books in as many minutes yesterday - Martin Chuzzelwit, looks good but I feel like a quick read; Bridget Jones Diary, didn't even get to the first page as it ain't on the list; Detectives, a book of sci-fi noirs, managed two pages before my splitting headache interrupted; Mrs Smilla's feeling for Snow, which was good, but by that point I'd established I wasn't in the mood for reading.
Nor can I work up the energy for anything in a wider sense. After enjoying Cry the Beloved Country, my mater suggested I give Uncle Tom's Cabin a spin. "Because you'll like that".
If you say so. I like being happy. I like ignoring whole chunks of unhappy history. I refuse point blank to watch issues movies, and Schindler's List is the only one of the IMDb top 10 I haven't seen, because they depress me. And I hate, hate novels written in dialect, because I suffer from the malady that is skim reading, and if you skim dialect you don't understand it, and before you know you're flicking through whole chapters for someone who speaks the Queen's English again. At which point, you're hardly getting the whole experience of the book. This is preciciely what happened 100 pages into Uncle Tom - a crying shame, because up until then I had been enjoying it.
I'm also furious at my local library, for being incompetant. I want to get a job there, just so I can sort them out. I was looking for three books, all listed on their computer:
Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides, because I started reading it in an airport departure lounge. While still in the bookshop, and it had a really nice style - not to mention, defiantly modern in the face of all the Victoriana I'd been indulging in. The Child in Time by Ian McEwan, a brilliant author and one I really can't stand, because poor missing Miss McCann was on my brain, and I'm sure he'd make a great novel out of the situation. Also, because Child in Time is an amazing title for, say, a different, more appealing sci-fi novel, rather than a morbid real life drama. And it has time in the title. And Short Trips - Doctor Who short stories, definitely not on the list, as a break from all that misery and gender confusion.
Eugenides - shelfmarked adult fiction, look at Eu. McEwan - check under Mc, then check Ew, then Mc again just in case I'd missed it. Nada. Not a single book by either of those authors. To set the scene, this was not the first time I'd come looking for these three novels - I'd browsed quickly at least twice before.
I'm head library prefect at my school. As I was at my previous school. How can I not find a book which is meant to be there?! No problem, lets look for Short Trips - shelfmarked, junior fiction. Not desperately embarassed by this, because I know in this case it's been incorrectly shelved - it should be with teens, or maybe the sci-fi? It isn;t there. I check under both authors. I check under D for doctor. I then scour the entirety of the sci-fi section, just in case. Twice.
By that point, I was a little annoyed. Went to a librarian. Asked for help finding Short Trips. So she checked teen fiction, then junior fiction, then got a second librarian to help, all the while cooing "She's looking for a Doctor Who novel!", as I shrivelled at being stuck in a section where the shelves were a head shorter than me, letting someone else look for a book I couldn't find.
It's karmic justice, I suppose.
Finally, she goes to look in their back room. And returns five minutes later, to say sorry, it was lent out to a school in 2001, so maybe MAYBE it got lost? Our local library has "maybe" been missing a book since 2001 and no one has noticed. I didn't have the heart to tell her there were two other books I was looking for also. So that's the last time I look for something specific in this library - from now on, I'm taking the whole list down and taking whatever I find.
There's something of a libriric curse going around right now (libriric: neologism, meaning "to do with libraries. Cute word). Suddenly, my beloved school library has become a lot less friendly. It's not a case of "you can't save them all" - right now I can't save any!
PS - went back to Oxfam. Dictionary of the Khzars was gone. Absolutement typique.
Currently reading: the Bridge, by Iain Banks. Not on the list, but I've been meaning to read it for years, and Beloved.
Up next: Smilla's Feeling for Snow, maybe a Town like Alice. Also, I've been recommended Trollope.
Read since last update: 1
Total read: 78
Of which is: 7.79% of the list
Cry the Beloved Country caught my attention by having a gorgeous title. It's a very clever book - it draws attention to the evils in Africa by showing us the good. Kind priests, with kind wives, living next to kind landowners with very, very kind sons - you love everyone in this novel, and in the midst of misery treasure every kind deed (and there are lots of these). Suggesting, I suppose, that the evil is just endemic - until root problems are solved, there is no hope for the individual. It was also very beautifully written. For a novel to be great, it doesn't have to be complex - this is as plain as a book could be, and through its simplicity expresses so much more. Highly recommended.
And certainly the polar opposite of Beloved by Toni Morrison, a gothic novel set in post-civil-war America. It's really dense, getting through is like wading through treacle. Its not like the words are long or the grammar complicated - it's just a book that doesn't enjoy being read, if you get me.
In the past few days, I've been going through something of a book lull - I can't find anything I want to read. I got through 4 books in as many minutes yesterday - Martin Chuzzelwit, looks good but I feel like a quick read; Bridget Jones Diary, didn't even get to the first page as it ain't on the list; Detectives, a book of sci-fi noirs, managed two pages before my splitting headache interrupted; Mrs Smilla's feeling for Snow, which was good, but by that point I'd established I wasn't in the mood for reading.
Nor can I work up the energy for anything in a wider sense. After enjoying Cry the Beloved Country, my mater suggested I give Uncle Tom's Cabin a spin. "Because you'll like that".
If you say so. I like being happy. I like ignoring whole chunks of unhappy history. I refuse point blank to watch issues movies, and Schindler's List is the only one of the IMDb top 10 I haven't seen, because they depress me. And I hate, hate novels written in dialect, because I suffer from the malady that is skim reading, and if you skim dialect you don't understand it, and before you know you're flicking through whole chapters for someone who speaks the Queen's English again. At which point, you're hardly getting the whole experience of the book. This is preciciely what happened 100 pages into Uncle Tom - a crying shame, because up until then I had been enjoying it.
I'm also furious at my local library, for being incompetant. I want to get a job there, just so I can sort them out. I was looking for three books, all listed on their computer:
Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides, because I started reading it in an airport departure lounge. While still in the bookshop, and it had a really nice style - not to mention, defiantly modern in the face of all the Victoriana I'd been indulging in. The Child in Time by Ian McEwan, a brilliant author and one I really can't stand, because poor missing Miss McCann was on my brain, and I'm sure he'd make a great novel out of the situation. Also, because Child in Time is an amazing title for, say, a different, more appealing sci-fi novel, rather than a morbid real life drama. And it has time in the title. And Short Trips - Doctor Who short stories, definitely not on the list, as a break from all that misery and gender confusion.
Eugenides - shelfmarked adult fiction, look at Eu. McEwan - check under Mc, then check Ew, then Mc again just in case I'd missed it. Nada. Not a single book by either of those authors. To set the scene, this was not the first time I'd come looking for these three novels - I'd browsed quickly at least twice before.
I'm head library prefect at my school. As I was at my previous school. How can I not find a book which is meant to be there?! No problem, lets look for Short Trips - shelfmarked, junior fiction. Not desperately embarassed by this, because I know in this case it's been incorrectly shelved - it should be with teens, or maybe the sci-fi? It isn;t there. I check under both authors. I check under D for doctor. I then scour the entirety of the sci-fi section, just in case. Twice.
By that point, I was a little annoyed. Went to a librarian. Asked for help finding Short Trips. So she checked teen fiction, then junior fiction, then got a second librarian to help, all the while cooing "She's looking for a Doctor Who novel!", as I shrivelled at being stuck in a section where the shelves were a head shorter than me, letting someone else look for a book I couldn't find.
It's karmic justice, I suppose.
Finally, she goes to look in their back room. And returns five minutes later, to say sorry, it was lent out to a school in 2001, so maybe MAYBE it got lost? Our local library has "maybe" been missing a book since 2001 and no one has noticed. I didn't have the heart to tell her there were two other books I was looking for also. So that's the last time I look for something specific in this library - from now on, I'm taking the whole list down and taking whatever I find.
There's something of a libriric curse going around right now (libriric: neologism, meaning "to do with libraries. Cute word). Suddenly, my beloved school library has become a lot less friendly. It's not a case of "you can't save them all" - right now I can't save any!
PS - went back to Oxfam. Dictionary of the Khzars was gone. Absolutement typique.
Currently reading: the Bridge, by Iain Banks. Not on the list, but I've been meaning to read it for years, and Beloved.
Up next: Smilla's Feeling for Snow, maybe a Town like Alice. Also, I've been recommended Trollope.
Read since last update: 1
Total read: 78
Of which is: 7.79% of the list
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Lolita
Finished! Comments forthcoming.
I also finally got to the end of War of the Worlds, which I had been reading at a snail's pace due to my familiarity with the story. The last few chapters really touched me though, they were well worth getting to.
I've started regency romance cum artistic debate Posession. It's wonderfully written, the author has a unique way of writing and using words. She is writing about characters I understand - literary experts who live through their subjects. Their reactions to coming into contact with the homes, posessions and writings of their individual literary darlings show a sympathy for the obsessive reader.
Currently reading: Posession,
Read since last update: 40
Total read: 77/1001
Of which is: 7.69% complete - 924 books to go
I also finally got to the end of War of the Worlds, which I had been reading at a snail's pace due to my familiarity with the story. The last few chapters really touched me though, they were well worth getting to.
I've started regency romance cum artistic debate Posession. It's wonderfully written, the author has a unique way of writing and using words. She is writing about characters I understand - literary experts who live through their subjects. Their reactions to coming into contact with the homes, posessions and writings of their individual literary darlings show a sympathy for the obsessive reader.
Currently reading: Posession,
Read since last update: 40
Total read: 77/1001
Of which is: 7.69% complete - 924 books to go
Monday, March 24, 2008
A la recherche de temps perdu...
Hello again. Miss me?
Why have I started up again? No reason. I still don't feel I can write about books as eloquently as film.
Because if I don't write down how I feel when I feel it, then I'll forget.
Because my sister's blog on the same subject has impressed me so much. Go and see it HERE if you want lucid, well written reviews. Stay here if you want random and hastily dashed off comments. All the better, read both. But if you read one, read hers - its better written, and the sting of it is she's younger - so she's still got two years to catch up with my current book count!
Because my "1001 books spreadsheet", recommended to me by a kind commenter during my absence of a year, informs me I'll only reach the end if I read 15 books a year.
Because the only way to write well is to read well written stuff, even if this does mean I spend hours agonising over paragraphs because they don't come out as good as McEwan's.
And finally, because I just came into a large number of Doctor Who novels. Lolita was immediately dumped mid paragraph for the Eight Doctors - the sci-fi equivalent of the airport novel. They are what Victor Frankenstein's father would describe as "sad trash", but oh-so irresistable. Maybe this blog will help keep me on the straight and narrow? Some of the time...
Why have I started up again? No reason. I still don't feel I can write about books as eloquently as film.
Because if I don't write down how I feel when I feel it, then I'll forget.
Because my sister's blog on the same subject has impressed me so much. Go and see it HERE if you want lucid, well written reviews. Stay here if you want random and hastily dashed off comments. All the better, read both. But if you read one, read hers - its better written, and the sting of it is she's younger - so she's still got two years to catch up with my current book count!
Because my "1001 books spreadsheet", recommended to me by a kind commenter during my absence of a year, informs me I'll only reach the end if I read 15 books a year.
Because the only way to write well is to read well written stuff, even if this does mean I spend hours agonising over paragraphs because they don't come out as good as McEwan's.
And finally, because I just came into a large number of Doctor Who novels. Lolita was immediately dumped mid paragraph for the Eight Doctors - the sci-fi equivalent of the airport novel. They are what Victor Frankenstein's father would describe as "sad trash", but oh-so irresistable. Maybe this blog will help keep me on the straight and narrow? Some of the time...
Looking forward to reading
Ones with beautiful or intriguing titles
Ones with beautiful or intriguing titles
- I know why the caged bird sings (I've always thought this phrase perfectly beautiful)
- Cryptonomicon (yeh, you can feel my fantasy leanings seeping out.)
- Neuromancer (ditto)
- The Things they Carried
- Sexing the Cherry
- The Trick is to Keep Breathing
- The beautiful Room is Empty
- Oscar and Lucinda
- the Child in Time
- The Bonfire of the Vanities
- Blood and Guts in High School (probably not as exciting as it sounds)
- if not now, when?
- The Colour Purple
- The Comfort of Strangers
- Goalie's Anxiety at the Penalty Kick (definitely a metaphor...)
- One hundred Years of Solitude
- Stranger in a Strange Land
- malone Dies
- The 13 Clocks
- Cry the Beloved Country
- For Whom the Bell Tolls
- Their Eyes were Watching God
- They Shoot Horses, Don't They?
- Call it Sleep
- The Childermass
- A portrait of the Artist as a Young man
- V.
- Cat's Cradle
Ones based on films
Because my finger twitches to cross them out every time I scan my list. The Godfather is exempt from this - I love the film too much to read the book.
Famously hefty ones, so I can smile and look superior as I devour them on the bus
- The Unbearable Lightness of Being
- A Return to Times Past
- Kafka - Metamorphosis, the Trial
Alarming ones, so I can smile and look charming as I devour them on the bus
- Oranges are not the Only Fruit
- Trainspotting
- Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
- The Marquis de Sade ones, I suppose
- Lolita and Clockwork Orange, wot I have already read.
The sci-fi classics on the list
Most of which I've done already - I, Robot and some Robert Heinlein still awaits. Also The Player of Games - Ian Banks wrote Use of Weapons, which at the time was the most brilliant thing I'd ever read. it's still hotdarn good.
the Gothic Novels
Because I love them - Vathek, Castle of Otranto, Mysteries of Udolpho e.t.c.
The Thomas Hardy
I loved Mayor of Casterbridge - also, I'm sick of people telling me how upsetting Jude the Obscure is.
Also
The Dictionary of the Khazars - Because it's in our local Oxfam, and I nearly buy it every time I go in. I only discovered it was on the list this morning - so naturally, it'll be gone when I return. C'est la vie.
Middlesex - I got hooked reading this in the corner of an airport departure lounge. In the bookshop, before I had bought it.
American Psycho -because the hero likes Genesis music, and so do I.
Melmoth the Wanderer -Because an exiled Oscar Wilde took Melmoth as his cover name.
Slaughterhouse Five
Posession
Not looking forward to reading
The Dickens.
There's ten on the list, and so far I've only read one. I'm thanking my stars I've already got Lord of the Rings, Gormenghast and Count of Monte Cristo out of the way.
Clarissa
My English teacher's favourite novel. Also (possibly) the longest book on the list. In fact, perhaps its the longest book in the English language?
The Marquis de Sade.
Quite aside from how I'm going to lay my hands on them (school library, I don't think...), reading a synopsis of Justine was quite enough for me.
Books read since last post: 40
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
The 37 I've read already...
It's a start, eh?
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time – Mark Haddon
Quite enjoyed it, but not entirely my sort of thing
The Devil and Miss Prym and Veronika Decides to Die – Paulo Coelho
I love Paulo Coelho. These aren't his best - I enjoyed the Alchemist most - but I liked them.
Captain Corelli’s Mandolin – Louis de Bernieres
I read this on holiday in wet France, and sobbed endlessly. Although the multi-character thing annoyed me.
Was the soldier chap called Carlos? Anyway, I liked him.
Regeneration and The Ghost Road – Pat Barker
There's actually a trilogy of these things...I think. Friend 2 went through a phase of adoring them, so I read them to keep her company. I liked the first one a lot, though I wasn't so keen on the sequels.
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy – Douglas Adams
Brilliant, in a word.
Interview With the Vampire – Anne Rice
I started reading this when I was ten. Naturally, I didn't get very far. When I tried it a second time I adored it.
The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie – Muriel Spark
Odd...but definitely very good.
Catch-22 – Joseph Heller
One of the best novels ever written. Probably.
Things Fall Apart – Chinua Achebe
We had to study this one for school. So naturally, I loathe it. I'm not saying it was bad, I just never want to put see Okonkwo and his yams ever again.
On the Road – Jack Kerouac
"Read some Kerouac, kinda put me on the track to burn a little brighter now. It was something about Roman Candles fizzing out, shine a little lighter now" - song by Marillion. I've been listening it to years and decided to finally find Kerouac. I even found the roman candles bit!
Day of the Triffids – John Wyndham
Actually, I thought it was tedious.
Gormenghast and Titus Groan– Mervyn Peake
I attacked this one with a ruler - cheerfully updating people on how many cm I was through. Wonderful read.
Nineteen Eighty-Four – George Orwell
One of my favourite books, though mostly on account of the plot, not the writing.
Brideshead Revisited – Evelyn Waugh
Definitely one of the best written books ever. I revisit this at least once a year, it's just packed with such wonderful words.
Animal Farm – George Orwell
OK, I suppose. Nothing really really special, but a pretty good read.
The Little Prince – Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
A wonderful little book. I've never really enjoyed it as much as I thought I should though...
The Outsider – Albert Camus
Weird...oh, I'm sorry, I meant existentialist. I did like it...sort of. But it's not really the sort of thing you're meant to like. Twas good though.
The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings– J.R.R. Tolkien
No comment. Love too much for words.
Gone With the Wind – Margaret Mitchell
Wrestled all the way through on holiday. Possibly the only book that has ever made me sob.
At the Mountains of Madness – H.P. Lovecraft
Very unusual novel, but wonderful atmosphere et al.
Dracula – Bram Stoker
We're doing this one at school. Love it!
Tess of the D’Urbervilles – Thomas Hardy
Didn't enjoy it as much as Casterbridge, but it was ok. I didn't really like the characters.
The Picture of Dorian Gray – Oscar Wilde
Probably my favourite book ever. Just beautiful.
The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde – Robert Louis Stevenson
A tad disappointing.
The Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
Absolutely fantastic, though the ending was lame. This book deserves a decent film adaptation.
The Mayor of Casterbridge – Thomas Hardy
I really really enjoyed this.
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There – Lewis Carroll
I'm running out of unusual ways to say "yes, I liked this"
Les Misérables – Victor Hugo
Ploughed through the entire thing, and it's fantastic.
A Tale of Two Cities – Charles Dickens
Absolutely wonderful! Sydney is an angel.
Pursuasion - Jane Austen
Friend 4 made me read this. Fairly good, I suppose, but nothing special.
Wuthering Heights – Emily Brontë
OK. Well...disappointing. Wuthering Heights' reputation has been built on what people think they know about it, from spin offs and films. It's actually got less of the passion and tempestuous darkness one would imagine.
Frankenstein – Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
Quite enjoyed this. I felt more sorry for the doctor than the creature though.
Pride and Prejudice – Jane Austen
For years I had been reading the first half then giving up. I finally had to finish it for school. I wouldn't describe myself as a Jane Austen fan at all...
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time – Mark Haddon
Quite enjoyed it, but not entirely my sort of thing
The Devil and Miss Prym and Veronika Decides to Die – Paulo Coelho
I love Paulo Coelho. These aren't his best - I enjoyed the Alchemist most - but I liked them.
Captain Corelli’s Mandolin – Louis de Bernieres
I read this on holiday in wet France, and sobbed endlessly. Although the multi-character thing annoyed me.
Was the soldier chap called Carlos? Anyway, I liked him.
Regeneration and The Ghost Road – Pat Barker
There's actually a trilogy of these things...I think. Friend 2 went through a phase of adoring them, so I read them to keep her company. I liked the first one a lot, though I wasn't so keen on the sequels.
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy – Douglas Adams
Brilliant, in a word.
Interview With the Vampire – Anne Rice
I started reading this when I was ten. Naturally, I didn't get very far. When I tried it a second time I adored it.
The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie – Muriel Spark
Odd...but definitely very good.
Catch-22 – Joseph Heller
One of the best novels ever written. Probably.
Things Fall Apart – Chinua Achebe
We had to study this one for school. So naturally, I loathe it. I'm not saying it was bad, I just never want to put see Okonkwo and his yams ever again.
On the Road – Jack Kerouac
"Read some Kerouac, kinda put me on the track to burn a little brighter now. It was something about Roman Candles fizzing out, shine a little lighter now" - song by Marillion. I've been listening it to years and decided to finally find Kerouac. I even found the roman candles bit!
Day of the Triffids – John Wyndham
Actually, I thought it was tedious.
Gormenghast and Titus Groan– Mervyn Peake
I attacked this one with a ruler - cheerfully updating people on how many cm I was through. Wonderful read.
Nineteen Eighty-Four – George Orwell
One of my favourite books, though mostly on account of the plot, not the writing.
Brideshead Revisited – Evelyn Waugh
Definitely one of the best written books ever. I revisit this at least once a year, it's just packed with such wonderful words.
Animal Farm – George Orwell
OK, I suppose. Nothing really really special, but a pretty good read.
The Little Prince – Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
A wonderful little book. I've never really enjoyed it as much as I thought I should though...
The Outsider – Albert Camus
Weird...oh, I'm sorry, I meant existentialist. I did like it...sort of. But it's not really the sort of thing you're meant to like. Twas good though.
The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings– J.R.R. Tolkien
No comment. Love too much for words.
Gone With the Wind – Margaret Mitchell
Wrestled all the way through on holiday. Possibly the only book that has ever made me sob.
At the Mountains of Madness – H.P. Lovecraft
Very unusual novel, but wonderful atmosphere et al.
Dracula – Bram Stoker
We're doing this one at school. Love it!
Tess of the D’Urbervilles – Thomas Hardy
Didn't enjoy it as much as Casterbridge, but it was ok. I didn't really like the characters.
The Picture of Dorian Gray – Oscar Wilde
Probably my favourite book ever. Just beautiful.
The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde – Robert Louis Stevenson
A tad disappointing.
The Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
Absolutely fantastic, though the ending was lame. This book deserves a decent film adaptation.
The Mayor of Casterbridge – Thomas Hardy
I really really enjoyed this.
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There – Lewis Carroll
I'm running out of unusual ways to say "yes, I liked this"
Les Misérables – Victor Hugo
Ploughed through the entire thing, and it's fantastic.
A Tale of Two Cities – Charles Dickens
Absolutely wonderful! Sydney is an angel.
Pursuasion - Jane Austen
Friend 4 made me read this. Fairly good, I suppose, but nothing special.
Wuthering Heights – Emily Brontë
OK. Well...disappointing. Wuthering Heights' reputation has been built on what people think they know about it, from spin offs and films. It's actually got less of the passion and tempestuous darkness one would imagine.
Frankenstein – Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
Quite enjoyed this. I felt more sorry for the doctor than the creature though.
Pride and Prejudice – Jane Austen
For years I had been reading the first half then giving up. I finally had to finish it for school. I wouldn't describe myself as a Jane Austen fan at all...
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