So I'm doing this project where I reread books that I read in my youth. In my late teens/early twenties, I wanted to read all the dystopians. I don't know why, but I found it fascinating. Now, I find it too depressing. I guess as you get older, it becomes too easy to imagine the world crumbling inward like an overripe melon as humanity succumbs to either disaster or hubris or both.
In THE HANDMAID'S TALE, we learn about a grim future in which a pseudo-evangelical group of fundamentalists has wrested control of the country in a vicious coup, reducing women to wives, baby vessels, or prostitutes, and men hold all the power. Women are unable to own property or even read; they are essentially chattel, stricken even of their names. Offred belongs to a man named Fred (literally "of Fred"). Before the coup, she was an ordinary woman. A woman with a daughter, who had a bank account and a lover. Now her sole duty is to bear children for the Commander, since she is fertile and his wife, Serena Joy, is not.
The timeline in this book is very difficult to follow because it is non-linear. I have always loved non-linear timelines when they are done well but it forces you to pay attention. Here, we see Offred in the before times, as well as in her training/brainwashing facility when they were grooming her to be a handmaid, and then in the present where she is navigating her precarious position in the household where any misstep could mean death-- or worse.
Having watched the TV show (the first season, at least), I'm pretty impressed with how closely it follows the show. There was so much I forgot. The fact that they mutilated the girls in the facility who disobeyed because they only needed them for their wombs. The mob justice scene when the handmaids literally tear apart the man accused of rape. The scene when Offred goes to the contraband club and sees all the whores garbed in the risque clothing of old. It's SO intense. I read this in two days which is a long time for me considering how short this book was, but it was a lot to take in. Especially since it's easy to imagine a sort of future where something like this could happen, what with the rabid group of religious assholes in the U.S. who mask their bigotry in piousness. This feels like their utopia.
It's pretty fucking chilling when you think about it like that.
I'm doing a project where I reread some of the books I liked when I was younger and seeing what I want to keep and what is better reconciled to memory. TUCK EVERLASTING is one of the few books where I actually saw the movie first, which actually set me up for disappointment because the movie was well-casted and really well done, and they upped the age of Winnie, making the movie more like TWILIGHT with the whole "how long have you been seventeen?" thing. In this book, Winnie is ten and Jesse is seventeen-going-on-eighty, which definitely makes the book way more yuck.
The movie is more of a straightforward romance but for obvious reasons, the book is not. Instead it's sort of a precocious coming-of-age tale and a philosophical musing on the ephemeral nature of life. If you could live forever, would you? How would you account for the draining of the world's resources? How should people be chosen for eternal life? It asks some tough but interesting questions and it's probably no surprise to you that the villain of the tale is a man who is hell-bent on living forever, no matter who he has to hurt.
I thought the story was okay. It's really short and clearly intended for a much younger audience than the movie. The first time I read this book, I remember liking it a lot, but this time around I found myself rolling my eyes and thinking about the movie instead. It kind of has a sad ending but it ends up being kind of bittersweet too, and I liked how the author alluded to certain things. In my first reading, I think I gave it five stars, but this time around, I'm feeling a three. It was decent but I don't think I'd reread.
I was inspired to read this book after picking up and enjoying A MOVEABLE FEAST by Ernest Hemingway, which was a beautifully written memoir of living in Paris as a broke writer in the 1920s. I didn't even think I liked Hemingway as an author until I read that book and was totally blown away by the vivid descriptions of the "lost generation" working on many of their
magna opera that would make them famous-- in the case of F. Scott Fitzgerald, posthumously so. DOWN AND OUT IN PARIS AND LONDON is Orwell's memoir of being a broke writer in the 1930s and it is... well, vivid, yes, but not in the fun way. More like in the visceral doom-scrolling way that so many of us are accustomed to in Our Year 2021.
There are two parts to this book. It opens with Paris, which in some ways does glamorize poverty, I feel. Or maybe that's just because Paris is more livable to those in dire straits. He paints comical portraits of his landlords and fellow tenants, and of his co-workers at the hotel at which he worked as a dishwasher. This was my favorite portion of the book because it feels the most light-hearted-- he has some cunning observations on the poor versus the rich, on the hypocrisies of society, and a few cunning tips on how to even the odds as someone who has the odds stacked against them. Unfortunately, this is also the part of the book that is rife with antisemitism. Given the time at which this was published, it was not shocking to excuse it, but the zeitgeist does not excuse the fact that many of his comments would be wholly inappropriate today, even if it makes it easier to understand why he says and thinks the things he does. Apparently, Orwell came to question many of his harmful beliefs later in life in his journals (he was an ardent diarist) and if that is the case, it is glad news, because history is filled with creators who have messed up some way ethically and rather than introspect and seek to be better people, they have simply doubled-down and closed their ears.
The London portion, as others have pointed out, is much starker and far more grim. There is a description of a lodging house that is truly horrifying. The characters he meets in this portion are also interesting but I feel like they didn't have the verve of the people he met in the Paris portion, and Orwell himself seems so much more exhausted here. The work is harsher and less forgiving, people seem so much more jaded, the conditions are draconian, etc. I also found it to be more repetitive and skimmed some portions, although I did like his chapter where he lists out some of the "cant" he observed among people working the streets, and meditates on slang, appropriated words, and Cockney dialect.
Whether you like or hate Orwell (and there are reasons to feel either way), I think this is a fascinating insight into his life, and there were several events that seemed to inspire his two major works, 1984 and Animal Farm (particularly his observations on how the working class is exploited and basically worked to the bone while the rich pretend to care but don't). The first portion of the book is like hearing about that one "bro" friend of yours recount travel to a questionable location while staying in a dangerous hostel. The second portion of the book is like hearing about that same "bro" friend recounting a terrible ordeal. The tonal shift between the two portions is noticeable and even though it affected my reading, it really made the book feel raw and real in a way that some of these literary figures sometimes don't because so much time has passed that their personalities feel removed from their work.
Anyone who enjoys edgy memoirs or learning more about literary figures will enjoy this.
It's a shame that Fitzgerald never lived to see his novel become one of the most successful literary works of all time. In fact, according to the afterword in this text, by the time of his death, his book had all but fallen out of circulation. I was inspired to reread THE GREAT GATSBY after reading Ernest Hemingway's A MOVEABLE FEAST, in which a detailed account of Fitzgerald talking to Hemingway about his "new" novel, The Great Gatsby, transpires. Hemingway is impressed by the quality of the book and declares it exceptionally good but also notes that Fitzgerald laments his bewilderingly tepid sales.
THE GREAT GATSBY is narrated in first person by a man named Nick Carraway, who seems to be a stand-in for Fitzgerald himself: educated, but not possessing much money, and hobnobbing it with those who are much more privileged than he is. His cousin is Daisy Buchanan, who is married to a bigoted narcissist named Tom, who is also having an affair with a married woman. Charming.
Nick's neighbor is a nouveau riche man named Gatsby who is well known in the area for throwing incredibly lavish parties that people attend with the same sort of wide-eyed wonder as one would a theme park. Unbeknownst to Nick, the overtures of friendship Gatsby extends his way aren't exactly guileless; Gatsby is utterly obsessed with Daisy and has been for years, and would like for Nick to arrange for the two of them to meet, as it turns out that they had a relationship when they were young and Gatsby was poor, and he's thought of her ever since. They meet and Daisy is as stunned by his lavish displays of wealth as everyone else, and also remembers all the good times she had with young Gatsby, and the two of them begin an affair of their own.
This is a tragedy that is also about classism, and how good breeding often excuses the rich. It's also a tale of love and obsession, and how passion can quite literally consume those who open themselves up to consumption. Gatsby's money attracts people to him, as does his charm, but he never really lets anyone know him except for Daisy, who is so selfish in her love that she isn't really ever quite willing to give of herself to anyone. Even her own child feels like an afterthought, mentioned only once. One really can't help but feel like Daisy is in it mostly for Daisy and doesn't give a fig for anyone else.
The most sympathetic person in the book is actually Nick, whose love and admiration for Gatsby is of a much purer form than that, ironically, which Daisy has for him. Nick is a stand-in for the reader, who discovers the story in pieces in real time, as we do, when disaster inevitably causes all of these fractures to cave in. Gatsby never really understands that what he is in love with is an illusion and a projection of his own wishes and desires. I felt kind of like Daisy is an extension of his desire to be one of the rich, and that his desire to marry her stems partially from his desire to be fully accepted into high society.
The writing in THE GREAT GATSBY is truly gorgeous and had me immediately buying up some of Fitzgerald's other works. I read this when I was a teen and much of the nuance was lost on me (and I also struggled with the vocabulary). I remember giving this a three-star rating originally, fixating mostly on the romance and missing basically everything else (as teens can sometimes do). THE GREAT GATSBY definitely gets better over time. I can see and understand the allegations of antisemitism within this work (there are other archaic references to people of other ethnicities that would be considered highly offensive now), and while the age of this book doesn't excuse those words and descriptions used, I do think that the context and the time in which this book was written makes it easier to understand why they are there. What a stunning portrait of doomed love. I am in awe.
Like many teenagers, I was diametrically opposed to the literary fiction foisted upon me by teachers I hated. I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of books I read in high school that I actually enjoyed: this is one of them. I read a lot of what people consider "junk" on this website but I spent two years reading most of the classics. My go-to stance on the subject is that reading some books over others doesn't make you a smarter human being, but even if you don't like the classics, you should probably at least give the Cliff Notes a look-over just so you understand the literary references when they're mentioned in other books. ANIMAL FARM in particular is mentioned a lot in other books and the rise and fall of the Russian Revolution is such an important moment in global history that it's important to understand why it happened, and reading this book makes it so much easier to understand the timeline.
I've seen some people saying that they chose to read this book without taking into account the historical context but since this is both an allegory and a roman à clef, this is one of the few novels where it really isn't possible to separate it from its broader context. As a "talking animal" book, I will admit it is not the best (if that's what you want, I'd recommend RATS OF NIMH or WATERSHIP DOWN instead), although I do think the animals have pretty strong characters. I will never not cry at the final scene with Boxer and Benjamin. It's like chopping onions.
ANIMAL FARM is about a farm called "Manor Farm" that is lorded over by Mr. Jones (an allegory for Czar Nicholas II). After Old Major (Karl Marx) gives his vision for a future in which animals are free and work together to achieve common goals together without the yoke of tyranny, the animals find and take an opportunity to rebel and claim the farm as their own, renaming it "Animal Farm." (Hence the title.) At first, everyone is happy. The gambol and skip around the fields, burn the bridles and the whips, and rejoice in their brotherhood, their comradeship. These are the glory days when all seems possible.
The animals possess various degrees of intelligence, with the pigs and the dogs being among the smartest and the geese and the sheep and the chickens being the stupidest. Two pigs take charge, Snowball and Napoleon, who represent Trotsky and Stalin, respectively. When Snowball runs off, this is meant to represent Trotsky fleeing from Russia, but he was later assassinated in Mexico (with an ice-axe-- yikes!), which is never mentioned in the book. Likewise, Czar Nicholas was assassinated with a gunshot to the head, but Jones, his allegory, is only run off. Perhaps because the alternative was deemed too brutal. I suppose there are only so many gory murders one can stomach in a 100-page short story.
Squealer goes around telling the other animals warped versions of reality to reflect the pigs' constant edits to the original Animal Farm tenets to benefit themselves. He represents the U.S.S.R. propaganda, Pravda, and all of the other organs that disseminated propaganda at this time. Ironically, pravda means "truth" in Russian when the things that it was reporting often reflected anything but.
The farm animals represent various strata within the construction of the new Soviet society. Boxer and Clover, the draft horses, represent the proletariat, or the working class. Boxer's ultimate demise at the hands of the pigs represents how the working class suffered under the Czar and continued to suffer under the Communists, some dying in poverty believing their conditions would better. Mollie represents the White Russians of the former noble class who fled with their jewels after the fall of the Czar (which is why she takes off so early in the book). Benjamin represents the intellectuals. The dogs represented the KGB, or the secret police. The pigs represent the Communist party, in general. At one point, when the chickens revolt, they represent the farmers in Ukraine (called "kulaks"), which resulted in the holodomor. Stalin starved peasant farmers into a widespread famine with executions and impossibly high grain quotas. It is now considered an act of genocide by many governments. The execution of the chickens by Napoleon is combined with the death of the four dissenting pigs, who represent Bolsheviks who were killed by Stalin in what is called the Great Purge.
The two neighboring farmers, Pilkington and Frederick, represent the United Kingdom and the allies and Germany, respectively. Since much of the events in the book take place during WWII, "Germany" as it is portrayed here is probably meant to be an allegory for Hitler and his interactions with the Soviet government during WWII.
At the end of the book, when the animals see the pigs with the humans and cannot tell them apart, it is meant to show that they did not cast of the yoke of oppression after all, but merely traded one oppressor for another. It's one of the most chilling endings in literary fiction that I remember reading because it's so powerful, and honestly, the fact that Orwell does all of this in less than one hundred pages is truly amazing. For some reason, I remembered this being a longer story than it was, but my edition clocked in at just shy of one hundred pages. Despite this, it reads as being a complete story, regardless, and I definitely recommend it.
I'd mentally filed Hemingway into the "Crusty Old Authors I Do Not Like" drawer after being bored to tears by THE SUN ALSO RISES and THE OLD MAN AND THE SEA in my youth, and did not touch the drawer again until my mom said, "Hey, you know what you should read? Hemingway's memoirs of 1920s Paris where he hangs out with F. Scott Fitzgerald and all these other famous people." And I thought, hmm, okay, might as well give it the old college try, if only for the inevitable poetic descriptions of the Seine and good wine.
A MOVEABLE FEAST honestly feels like it's been written by a totally different writer. There's a straightforward wistfulness to the writing that imbues the prose with a misty luminescence-- like a streetlamp in the fog. Hemingway writes about the literati hanging around Paris, turning it into their own snooty little writer's club. I had no idea that Gertrude Stein was such a snob, and the way he describes her describing her colleagues-- like a general recounting battles in which he has defeated other generals-- was just so colorful and striking. I found it fascinating how quickly he seemed to grasp the measure of people and cut right to the heart of who they are.
The food and wine descriptions are lovely, and I think people who have been to Paris and know firsthand how expensive it is now will be awed at how Hemingway and his wife were able to get by on so little. This is, first and foremost, a measure of an author struggling to balance his life of the fine arts with an ill-paying job that often leaves him hungry and poor. It's a bit romanticized, but there are unexpected brutal moments, too, such as him choosing to go for walks in the park during lunch hour in places that were far away from food so he wouldn't have to suffer.
The two high points of this book for me were the utter dysfunctionality of the relationship between Zelda and Scott F. Fitzgerald, and learning that apparently Hemingway saw nothing wrong with leaving his favorite cat to babysit his child in the cradle. But I honestly loved the way this was written and while there were some repetitive parts, most of it left me feeling nostalgic for a time I never even lived through because the emotions in his writing were just so strong. I'd never really considered Hemingway a likable guy before but this book really makes him a compelling figure on paper. Color me impressed.
I read BALZAC AND THE LITTLE CHINESE SEAMSTRESS for the first time when I was a very young teenager. I applaud my mom for giving this to me because, like a fine wine, this book is easy to consume when young, but gets better for age. Under 200 pages, with spare prose and simple language, it's a short, easy read and goes by quickly, and it helps that the characters themselves are teenagers as well, even though this isn't a young adult book.
The (I believe unnamed) main character and his friend, Luo, are sent to the Chinese countryside during the "reeducation period" under the leadership of Chairman Mao. During the reeducation period, the children of the bourgeois were sent to the rural parts of China to toil alongside the working class and basically learn what it meant to be a real patriot: hard-working and free from finery.
Luo is the quick-thinker of the duo and is able to save the narrator's violin by convincing the inspector that it's an instrument, and that the Mozart song is actually an ode to Mao.
As the story continues, we see them try to adjust to the discomfort of living on a mountain, slogging around shit, working in the muddy fields, and braving the precarious twists and turns of the mountain paths. One day, they meet the daughter of the tailor-- the "Little Chinese Seamstress"-- and Luo falls in love with her. At the same time, they acquire a book through bribery (and then more through theft), and Luo is convinced that with these books, he can civilize LCS into a real bourgeois city girl.
Books at this time were banned, so the whole time you're reading this story, there's a very real sense of danger. At the same time, it's endearing to watch three young people fall in love with reading, drawn to the forbidden with the same reckless candor that attracts modern youth to alcohol or drugs. My parents had me watch the movie before I read the book and I remember saying, in my naivete, "They should just ban books because then kids would actually want to read them." Which is probably true, but banning books carries a whole host of problems that naive 13-year-old me didn't consider.
Whether it's the odd hypocrisies of the Communist era of China, the pleasure of learning to fall in love with reading, or the oddly satisfying ending of Pygmalion being thwarted by his Galatea, there's a lot to unpack in this book and I think I actually enjoyed it in a different way the second time around. I would definitely recommend this to young adults, though, and honestly, now is the PERFECT time to read it, because May is AAPI Heritage month, and this would make a great pick.
ISOLDE is a work of Russian literature originally released in 1929. Apparently it was quite controversial in its day, which isn't surprising, as it comes across as very progressive for its time with regard to its frankness of writing about sex and the flouting of convention, as well as a surprisingly decent portrayal of an F/F character that was unexpected.
Liza is the daughter of a vain social climber named Natalia, who makes Liza, Odette, her other daughter, and Nikolai, her son, all pretend that she's actually their older cousin, and they are forbidden from calling her "Mama." Natalia is carrying on with two different lovers-- one spineless and weak, the other predatory and cruel. They are a family of White émigrés from Russia taking refuge in France. While there, Lisa meets a handsome young English boy named Cromwell who has just read Tristan and Iseult and sees Liza as the beautiful Isolde.
From there, this book almost becomes an F. Scott Fitzgerald novel as Cromwell takes Liza and her siblings out around the town, wining and dining them, and regaling them with his otherness and his money. But then the money runs out, and Liza becomes terribly bored. She is fourteen in this novel and acts every inch of it, with all the fickleness and depthless emotion that I remember experiencing from my own teen years. She loves and hates with passion, shifting from one to the other, and grows bored quickly.
Towards the end of the novel, things start to get a little surreal. Natalia's relationships become more tempestuous as the wife of one of her lovers catches on to their affair. Liza grows older and more beautiful, and finds that her mother likes her less as other men begin to like her more. Tensions in Russia reach a fever pitch as the country teeters on the brink of revolution and Liza, wanting something to live for, begins to wonder if the answer might be having something worth dying for.
As far as I can tell, this is a somewhat loose interpretation of Tristan and Iseult set during the Jazz Age, only with a different ending. It's a very loose interpretation, perhaps more homage than retelling. I think more than a literary retelling, this is social commentary on coming of age in Europe, as well as commentary on social class and the moral indolence of jaded, disaffected youth. The writing is gorgeous and the translators did an excellent job catching the "tone" of novels written in this time period. If you're a fan of William Somerset Maugham, F. Scott Fitzgerald, or Edith Wharton, I think you will probably enjoy this book for its portrayal of the ennui of the upperclass.
Thanks to the publisher for sending me a copy in exchange for an honest review!
I just read this book called YOU PLAY THE GIRL, a book of essays about pop culture written through a feminist lens, and one of the essays was about Stepford Wives - I seem to recall the author juxtaposed it against the Desperate Housewives and writing a good deal about what it means to be a "housewife," whether you're a good one or a dysfunctional one. I really liked what the author had to say, and it actually motivated me to go dig out my old copy of STEPFORD WIVES for a belated reread.
***WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD***
Disclaimer: I'm a feminist, so obviously I'm a little biased, but in my opinion, STEPFORD WIVES is a feminist book in the same vein as THE HANDMAID'S TALES. STEPFORD is set in the middle of the civil rights era, where Betty Friedan is giving her talks and NOW chapters are rallying for equal rights for women. Men, for the first time, are suddenly expected to share in the housework, and women are being empowered to seek out their own jobs and goals independent of marriage and children, becoming sexually and fiscally autonomous.
One of the biggest issues that women continue to face is objectification. You see this a lot when sexist dudes talk about women, reducing them to their parts ("grab some p*ssy," "Tits or GTFO"), or talking about them as if they are trophies to be won for their accomplishments ("I'm such a nice guy, so why don't I have a girlfriend?"). It's gotten better, but not nearly as much as it should have, and one of the more chilling aspects for me is how modern STEPFORD WIVES feels, despite being published in 1972. I don't know about you, but it doesn't speak very highly towards our society that we're still being plagued by the same exact issues almost fifty years later. Especially since the chilling climax of this book is objectification in the ultimate sense: taking living, breathing women and replacing them with actual objects: in this case, robots.
I've read this book several times over the course of my life, and with every reread I take something new from the text. I feel like I was able to appreciate it more this time because I've been reading more books about history and feminism, so I have a better appreciation for the zeitgeist of the time of this book's publication, and what the broader historical context behind it was. In fact, I would say STEPFORD WIVES actually improves with subsequent reads, because there are all these sinister hints that you pick up on while reading between the lines that make it even more terrifying.
Examples:
When Joanna first finds out about the Men's Association, she is against it. She expects her husband, who claims to be a feminist, will be, too, but he joins because "the only way to change it is from the inside" (6). The irony here is that the only changes being made on "the inside" are occurring within the context of her marriage: Walter sabotages Joanna so slowly that by the time she finally feels the noose tightening, it's already too late.
After one of his Men's Association meetings, Walter comes home late and masturbates furiously in their bed, but acts ashamed when she catches him: His eye-whites looked at her and turned instantly away; all of him turned from her, and the tenting of the blanket at his groin was gone as she saw it, replaced by the shape of his hip (15). They have sex at her insistence, which ends up being "one of their best times ever - for her, at least" and she says, "What did they do...show you dirty movies or something?" (16). This is one of those moments where, in subsequent rereads, the reader wonders: did the members of the Men's Association indoctrinate Walter by showing him what they do to their wives, and did the possibilities of that excite him instead of horrifying him?
Towards the end, after Bobbie, a friend to Walter and Joanna, "changes", Walter hesitates when it's time to say goodbye: Bobbie moved to Walter at the door and offered her cheek. He hesitated - Joanna wondered why - and pecked it (77). I took this to mean that Walter is thinking of his own wife's pending transformation and feeling guilt and uncertainty. Should he go through with it? When Joanna is worried about her friend, Walter has this to say: "There's nothing in the water, there's nothing in the air....They changed for exactly the reasons they told you: because they realized they'd been lazy and negligent. If Bobbie's taking an interest in her appearance, it's about time. It wouldn't hurt YOU to look in a mirror once in a while" (86). He goes on to say: "You're a very pretty woman and you don't do a damn thing with yourself any more unless there's a party or something" (86). That's when I felt like it became too late for Joanna. In the midst of her mental breakdown, she let herself - and the house - go, and Walter decided he didn't want to deal with that, any of it, anymore. Why settle for a flawed woman when you could have a perfect one?
When Joanna tries to run away from the women and the men from the Men's Association corner her, they hunt her down like an animal and mock her fear. I took this to mean that the objectification was complete: they no longer saw her as human - they knew she was about to become a robot, and so to them, she was just a thing. What makes this even more ironic is when they say, "[W]e don't want ROBOTS for wives. We want real women" (114). Because I've heard so many men say similar things - that they want smart, clever, beautiful women...but there's always a qualifier. As long as they don't try too hard, as long as they aren't more successful than me, as long as they aren't shrill or know-it-all.
The Men of Stepford want "real" women...but they also don't want flawed, forgetful women who sometimes let themselves go and don't want to do all the housework. They want the women of their fantasies made real: they want Pygmalion.
"Suppose one of these women you think is a robot - suppose she was to cut herself on the finger, and bleed. Would THAT convince you she was a real person? Or would you say we made robots with blood under the skin?" (114)
The ending of this book is depressing AF. I'm not sure what the message is, exactly, either - is it saying that men are inherently sexist and unwilling to move towards equality? Or is it a warning of the reductio ad absurdum variety of what objectification can lead to if left unchecked? And what of the children: are they going to groom their daughters to become robots when they come of age as well, marrying themselves off to the highest bidder? The story becomes even bleaker if you consider the possibilities. I took it as a warning, and a criticism of the patriarchy, but STEPFORD is open to so many possible interpretations, and I think that's what makes it such an interesting and lasting book.
🌟 I read this for the Yule Bingo Challenge, for the category of Malfoy: Character you love to hate. For more info on this challenge, click here. 🌟
Oh man, this was just the palate cleanser I needed after all those crazy bodice ripper romances. L.M. Montgomery, author of ANNE OF GREEN GABLES fame, brings to the table something wickedly funny and wholesomely real with THE BLUE CASTLE: a story of a bitterly unhappy girl who learns to discover her true self in the face of a terrible tragedy.
The plot actually reminded me of the 2006 film, Last Holiday, starring Queen Latifah, and I couldn't help but wonder if Last Holiday was in some part inspired by THE BLUE CASTLE. THE BLUE CASTLE is about a girl named Valancy who lives with a bitter and miserable family, mired in tradition and utterly consumed with ritual and what's "proper."
Valancy is kept under their thumb, abused, and mocked for being a twenty-nine-year-old spinster, but her unhappiness is also the glue that not only keeps her family united, but also rationalizes their own self-misery and unhappiness. It's an utterly toxic atmosphere, and it's no wonder that Valancy suffers anxiety attacks and depression, and cries herself to sleep at night as she reminisces over past injustices while also hoping for something more. Her two spots of solace in the world are books by an author named John Foster, who writes beautiful prose on the Canadian wilderness, and a fantasyland of her own imaginings: Blue Castle, where everything is beautiful and goes according to her wishes.
One day, Valancy visits a doctor about one of her "spells" and finds out that she has a fatal heart defect, and only has a year to live. She decides that she doesn't want to spend that last year miserable, and begins telling off her awful relatives and living a scandalous but thoroughly happy life that leaves her relatives reeling, and also, of course, bitterly envious of her daring and contentment.
This was a really great story. Is it realistic? No. But it has an emotional depth that is somewhat lacking in the earlier Anne novels - perhaps because this book is intended for an older audience. Valancy's depression is depicted with gritty realism, and I felt utterly sorry for her in the beginning. I also liked her sarcasm and bitter wit - she's not at all like Anne; she's much more sarcastic and cynical, and her repartee with her awful relatives cracked me up. That cynicism, in many ways, reminded me of the terrible family in COLD COMFORT FARM. I think THE BLUE CASTLE is written for a much more cynical audience who, like Valancy, hasn't quite given up hope...
If you're a fan of clean and older romances, you should definitely pick up THE BLUE CASTLE. It's only 99-cents right now, and the realness of it, as well as the charming and slow burn romance, were exactly what I needed to get me through this cold and chilly Sunday. Be prepared to laugh, and enjoy some of the most beautiful descriptions of nature you've ever seen. I even learned a new word: incarnadine.
Some of you may not know this, but I used to play chess quite frequently. The reason one of my own published book series revolves around chess because it used to be my favorite game to play. During college, it helped relax me after studying and I would sometimes play out 10+ games in an evening. I've revisited the game several times throughout my life and while I was never particularly amazing at it, or formally ranked, I used to be pretty good. Good enough that I could occasionally beat the old Russian guys who hung out around the parks in San Jose with their chess sets. When I found out that there were quite a few other books out there revolving around chess, I made it my mission to get my hands on them as soon as possible.
Well, in the case of Stefan Zweig's CHESS (or CHESS STORY, as it is sometimes called), that acquisition took me over ten years. But finally! I landed an inexpensive copy and could read this story about a high stakes game between an Austrian noble and a Hungarian savant from peasant stock who became a grandmaster against the odds. Often I love posting status updates as I read, but sometimes it's fun to keep all my reactions to myself until I finish. This was one of those times. The story is told in first person by a (I believe unnamed) third party, who encounters both Mirko Czenovic and Dr. B while aboard a ship. The narrator is curious about Mirko, who is conscious of his lack of formal schooling and the rigid class lines he has violated by moving into a sport that is the pastime of the intellectual class, and therefore makes a point of avoiding contact with anyone as much as possible.
The narrator manages to arrange a meeting by playing chess with his wife in a public area on the ship. Eventually, a Scotsman takes the bait and starts playing with him, which ends up attracting Mirko's attention. Their chess ability doesn't impress Mirko, which makes the Scotsman angry, and to defend his pride and masculinity, he challenges Mirko to a game. Unsurprisingly, it goes badly-- until a random observer saves him from making a mistake and falling for a sacrificial trap. This observer is Dr. B., a man who turned to chess to preserve his sanity when he was caught and interrogated by the Gestapo for thwarting the Nazi party during WWII.
The ending is a bit of a surprise, so I won't spoil it, but this is a pretty good story and an intense psychological portrait of the people who revolve their lives around chess. It takes a while to get moving, as these older stories sometimes do, but once it finally started rolling, I was fascinated-- especially about Dr. B.'s story. Both him and Mirko were total opposites, so it was kind of cool that chess ended up being a sort of equalizer between them, especially when they both ended up in the hobby purely by circumstance. Not sure about the reread potential but it was the perfect story for a blustery afternoon.
Nenia ✨ I yeet my books back and forth ✨
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Books:
classics-that-are-fun-to-read
(11)
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