Phyllis
As the oldest autobiography in English (and about an upper-middle class female mystic, no less), this book is worthwhile and was this month's Great Books book club selection. Might I have read this on my own without the book club to keep me in line? I suspect not. Yet, I am quite glad to have “met” Margery in print, if certainly not in person; I don't think she's a lot of fun at parties what with all the boisterous weeping, roaring, and high holiness and launching into the entire history of her sins at the drop of a hat.
I liked having a view into domestic life of the day, such as Margery's early attempts at housewifery (brewing, milling), vain dress, and occasional bawdy thoughts (nothing like “The Decameron!”). It is interesting that women had a bit more freedom at this time than a few hundred years later. Certainly, the repetitious praising of Jesus, God, etc. can get a bit tedious, but these laments are the very things that would have been repeated at mass or during the 8 or so years that she was read to.
It is curious that Margery rarely references her 14 children other than the very clear mentions of the son who likely wrote the first, illegible draft of her manuscript and who predeceased her. I suspect that her other children were dead or estranged at the time the manuscript is being written for several reasons. First, it is likely that some surviving children would have been nearby to assist in the care of Margery's husband after his stroke, yet we hear nothing of children coming by. Any children yet living might have been somewhat peeved that Margery spent or gave away the inheritance from her father without considering the welfare of her children or had been driven away by her mystical weeping, so it's entirely possible that they were estranged. High infant mortality combined with what appeared to be post-partum psychosis (and, perhaps, post-partum depression at other times) might explain one of Margery's reason's for turning toward God at around the age of 40. Also of note is the anchorite of Norwich's accusation that Margery had a child while on her pilgrimage. Was she pregnant prior to acquiring a promise of chastity from her husband? Or, did the accusation arise because she travelled with the Irish broken-backed Richard with no other chaperone?
The Boydell and Brewer annotated edition of “The Book of Margery Kempe” is worth picking up for several reasons. First, it includes a chronology, a 1-2 sentence summary of each chapter, a glossary, is presented in Middle English (fun, but slow-going) with convenient on-page footnoting, and a very thorough introduction. Other folks in my book club had various editions that “translate” the text into modern English and they enjoyed the book just as much.
Below are the questions that another book club member put together for today's discussion:
1. How does the book compare to modern memoirs? Why does Kempe never talk about her other 13 children or her mother? What prevents her from learning to read, with all the mentoring she's getting over the years? She says she hungers to hear books read to her.
2. Margery: delusional or blessed? How self-absorbed on a scale of 1-10? What is the purpose of her pilgrimages?
3. How would Margery be received in your church/bible study/book club? Does she fit your concept of a devout Christian? Why wasn't she convicted of heresy? In what forms does she encounter good and evil? Why is she most critical of people who swear?
4. Did the reactions of others to her “weeping, roaring and shrill shrieking” seem culturally different as she travelled? Why did some assist her while others bailed? Why were some authorities fans and others enemies? (The Duke of Bedford was later a judge at Joan of Arc's trial.)
5. Margery's behavior isolates her and she is often friendless. How is this particularly dangerous for her? Why do you think she faces greater personal risk in England than on the continent?
6. The book is unique in describing an upper middle class woman's lifestyle in late medieval Europe. What did you think of her “Material Girl” stage? Why does she get into microbrewing ?
7 . Margery's husband was amenable to a buy-out. How would you describe his personality? Did he seem to care for her? What does chastity mean to Margery, since she still wants extramarital sex?
8. What's the deal with the erotic visions: getting steamed over Jesus's manhood; marriage ceremony with G-d? These features were consistent with other medieval female mystics. (Mysticism is defined as becoming one with G-d through an altered/ecstatic state of consciousness.)
9. How would you characterize Margery's conversations with Christ? Are they surprising in any way?
10. Bonus question: compare Margery to:
Bridget of Sweden(1303-1373 )
Mad Joanna of Castille (Juana de Loca) 1479-1555. (Isabella's heir)
Teresa of Avila (1515-1582)
How does a 220 book take forever to read and still underwhelm you with poor writing and an inability to use punctuation (much needed!!!) or present dialogue? If you're wondering, get this book!
All snark aside, this book was awful. After the first 60ish pages, in which some suspense is built while a truly boring woman wandering around a hotel wondering where her nearly-ex-husband is, we have to listen to ramble and whine on and on and NO ONE CARES. A book to be skipped.
I'm so glad my great Books book club decided to tackle the imposing “Daniel Deronda“ for our January 2025 book. Would I have read it otherwise? I certainly always intended to read the author's “Middlemarch“ years ago, but only did it because of book club
Clocking in at almost 800 pages of very dense text, this book demands that you focus on it, and I found myself having to schedule time at the library to avoid distraction at home. Like other Victorian literature, there are times a modern reader might be forgiven for skimming (for me it was parts of chapter 42).
It's best to go into this book as blind as possible, and let George Elliott take you where she will, letting her weave us through the ebbs and flows of the intertwining stories of Gwendolyn Harleth and Daniel Deronda.
The intense power of a single look just a few pages into “Daniel Deronda” kicks off several deep character studies; crises of action, identity, and conscience; and the stories of the titular Daniel and Gwendolyn.
My initial impression of Gwendolyn was a young woman keen at riding and archery, being pretty, duplicitous wordplay, and breaking men's hearts: in summary, a bit of a bratty twit. We learn that her father died many years before and that she detested her stepfather. Other than the intriguing Daniel Deronda, Gwendolyn treats men as playthings or annoyances. Gwendolyn dislikes being touched; one wonders whether she was spoiled or disliked men because the stepfather abused her in some way. By the end of the novel, I couldn't figure out whether Gwendolyn was intended to be a satire of the characters that the author complains about in her 1856 essay “Silly Novels by Lady Novelists” or not. Perhaps, she ends up living with her mother the rest of her life on the reasonable money Grandcourt leaves her.
Women in middle and upper class England had few choices open to them. Even women who had money or property did and could not mange it themselves. The caste system often kept women segregated from each other, as well. There were so few choices open to women at that time: without a fortune or advantageous marriage, being a governess or a singing teacher were the only somewhat acceptable means of making a living.
Enter Grandcourt, “that remnant of a human being,” who is menacing from early on; Grandcourt's cruel treatment of the good dog Fetch let's us know who he is. By chapter 30, the reader witnesses absolute cruelty and dismissal of the people he claims to love (nevermind his blood relatives). He is bored by everything except winning what he shouldn't or can't have (for now). And once he has made his acquisition, he carelessly tosses his loves in a type of imprisonment, encasing them in “an empire of fear. “ (p. 384). The high-spirited Gwendolyn did not deserve this man. George Eliot is masterful in the cruel sections of the book. She's uses direct language that is almost modern and accurately depicts what horrible things humans can do to each other. Her portrayal of psychological abuse was unusual for the time (compared to contemporary books I have read). Ultimately, grand Court is one of the best villains I have read in a long time.
People of unknown or partially-known parentage lived on the edges of society, allowed to view or take minor roles, but never to be fully integrated. And this is how we meet Daniel Deronda at the beginning of the book: a bit of a shadow who becomes more fleshed out as we proceeded through the story. So, too, was life for people of minority religions. In fact, this is the first book in my memory that takes a more sympathetic picture of what it was like to be Jewish in 1865 and to show a kind, generous Jewish family in the Cohens.
And this is George Eliot's thesis. The book predicts the decline of the English aristocracy because of a belief in supreme power and ability to conquer without being open to other religions and cultures. The English aristocracy also undervalued the middle and lower classes upon whom they relied and it was those classes that should be valued, which is very clear in the book; the scenes in the middle and lower-class homes are the most charming and realistic. The most successful characters are the ones who look to help others not just focus on themselves.
Many of the characters in this book truly shine and are a clear reflection of George Eliot's genius. The delightfully honest and stern Klesmer; Hans Meyrick and his open-minded mother and sisters; Ezra Cohen‘s warm and welcoming family, especially little Jacob; and Mr. Lush are very well-drawn. Many of these characters, steal the show from the two main character characters.
A few other random thoughts.
Set in 1865, there are references to the US Civil War's impact on England's economy and availability (or lack) of goods.
I couldn't find any information on a possible theme of used/stale books. P. 347 Dermda observes “second-hand bookseller may belong to that unhappy class of men who have no belief in the good of what they get their living by...,” and on p. 389 “It had been Gwendolyn's habit to think if the persons around her as stale books, too familiar to be interesting.”
There was quite a bit of talk at the meeting today about whether Danield Deronda was circumcised or not; his mother gave him away around the age of 2 and, of course, we don't find out.
The 2002 BBC adaptation by Andrew Davies is very well done with excellent casting across the board. They did a nice job of taking very dense material and creating a digestible miniseries.
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS FROM 01/25/25 GREAT BOOKS MEETING
1. George Eliot's first epigraph begins, “Let thy chief terror be of thine own soul.” Why do you think the author began the novel with this poetic warning? What is the purpose of the epigraphs that begin each chapter? Are they distracting or do they broaden your understanding of each chapter?
2. What sense do you get of the narrator of this book? How does she gain your trust, stir your interest?
3. What effect do you think the names of the eight separate “books” of the novel have on the way we read and think about Daniel Deronda and the characters in it? (For example, the first book is called “The Spoiled Child.” How does this affect the way you look at Gwendolen?)
4. Consider how the principal characters in the novel (the Mallingers, the Meyricks, Gwendolen, Grandcourt, Mirah, and Mordecai) view Daniel Deronda. Do their views contrast with the way he views himself? How do his self-image and his aspirations change over the course of the novel?
5. Henry James wrote an 1876 piece for The Atlantic Monthly using 3 fictional characters to criticize and praise “Daniel Deronda.” One character argued: “Gwendolen Harleth is a masterpiece. She is known, felt, and presented, psychologically, altogether in the grand manner. Beside her and beside her husband – a consummate picture of English brutality refined and distilled (for Grandcourt is before all things brutal) – Deronda, Mordecai, and Mirah are hardly more than shadows.” Do you agree or disagree with this assessment?
6. The Princess Halm-Eberstein, tells her son, Daniel Deronda: “You are not a woman. You may try—but you can never imagine what it is to have a man's force of genius in you, and yet to suffer the slavery of being a girl.” The book teems with strong female characters of different backgrounds, temperaments, talents, and ruling passions. What are the female characters' place in Victorian society and how do they deal with their limited options? Can you compare and contrast Gwendolen's and Mirah's feelings about family and roots? How do the portrayals of these women, as well as the focus on matrilineal descent in Judaism, work with terms like motherland and mother tongue?
7. Eliot emphasized the idea of “separateness with communication” in support of multiculturalism. How does the theme of maintaining an individual's ethnic identity weave throughout “Daniel Deronda?” Is there room for minorities in a society organized or guided by nationalism? More specifically, how would you characterize Eliot's depiction of Jewish people and their cultural and religious heritage? Was the viewpoint typical of the Victorian era? How do the individual romantic plots relate to the book's focus on nationalism?
8. Some critics view The Philosophers Club scene in Chapter 42 is like “a play within a play.” What is this scene's impact on the story? Why did Eliot choose so many (at-the-time) British minorities are to debate with Mordecai?
9. George Eliot remarked that everything in the book is related to everything else. Consider the attempted and actual drownings, the pawned-then-returned necklace and the gifted-then-regifted diamonds, as well as the various singers (Gwendolyn, Mirah, Princess Halm-Eberstein). How do these connections affect your view of the book?
10. Gwendolen sends Daniel a letter on his wedding day claiming that: “It is better—it shall be better with me because I have known you.” Do you think this is true? How would you describe the complex relationship between Gwendolen Harleth and Daniel Deronda? Who do you think is the real protagonist of the novel, Daniel or Gwendolen or (someone else) and why?
11. How does Eliot explore the themes of social class, power, and respectability in the novel? Specifically, what do we learn about Grandcourt's character from the way he treats his dogs, Mr. Lush, Mrs. Glasher, and Gwendolyn? Is his character meant to represent the British aristocracy of his time?
12. How do the characters in Eliot's novel achieve a meaningful life (specifically in relation to one's calling)? What does the novel say about people who choose selfish actions over selfless actions?
EXTRA CREDIT: Silly Novels by Lady Novelists
PDF: https://georgeeliotarchive.org/files/original/df6ffa5059cc345b11f58a03d8e04341.pdf
Audiobook on Hoopla (1 hour, 8 minutes): https://www.hoopladigital.com/audiobook/silly-novels-by-lady-novelists-george-eliot/15620451
This essay, originally published anonymously in The Westminster Review (1856), examines the state of women's fiction. Eliot laments that absurd and banal novels, written by well-to-do women of her time, do great disservice for the overall appreciation of women's intellectual capacities within society.
What would the George Eliot of 1856 think of Gwendoyn Harleth and the of the 1876 “Daniel Deronda?”
LINKS & RESOURCES
Reader's Guide from Penguin edition: https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/45821/daniel-deronda-by-george-eliot-introduction-by-edmund-white/9780307430878/readers-guide/
Themes: https://www.coursehero.com/lit/Daniel-Deronda/themes/
Ruth Wisse's Study Guide: https://tikvah.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/03/Tikvah_DerondaStudyGuide_v5.pdf
https://georgeeliotarchive.org/ including several reviews from contemporaries
Clare Fuller definitely has some talent, but I wouldn't recommend “Swimming Lessons.” Despite being a somewhat quick read, the book drags.
The premise is good, yet the book is filled with stock characters (philandering professor-turned-author? Undervalued wife, who actually writes successful husband's book, but sticks around despite philandering? Check! Generally dysfunctional family? Check! Self-absorbed, jerk of a daughter who is angry for no reason? Check! Other daughter who is responsible is described as manly and we. later learn is a lesbian? Check! Excessive water imagery, including a Dad named Gil? Check!). Frankly, the characters are generally unlikeable; that seems to be a trend in popular fiction lately and I, for one, would like it to stop! That's not to say that likeable characters are the only way to go, but people have nuances. People have redeeming qualities. People have senses of humor (lacking in this novel). A good writer is able to weave various character strands together to create a breathing being. Louise, for example, made no sense whatsoever and seemed shoe-horned in at the end.
Ingrid is the most fleshed-out character and I get her point of view as she's around my Mom's age. While women's lib was going on in the 70s, culture still hadn't adjusted to the extent it has in the 20-teens and women didn't have the career options available to them. Families still had to be taken care of. What's questionable is that Ingrid never gets a profession after her children are in school. The most poignant parts of the book were the losses of three children and her inability to connect to the two that lived.
How does this title get up to 2 stars? Because the idea of a wife who has left the family leaving random letters in books is pretty neat. But, who writes letters in which full dialogues between characters are included? If the letters had been more, we'll, letterly, I think the device would have worked out better. The beginning of each letter starts out more letterly and then switches to point-of-view style similar to the rest of the novel. The selection of book for each letter is actually pretty witty, although I wasn't familiar with one of them.
So, all in all, not a waste of time, but not great.
This gorgeous children's book tells the legend of the Nian Monster, who terrorized many villages and was eventually scared away by fire, loud noises, and the color red. Which is why those three items are party of Lunar New Year celebrations today.
This book brings the Nian Monster to vivid life where our main character, Xingling, distracts the Movster with sumptuous dishes
You don't have to be a child to enjoy this charming book and especially not to enjoy the amazing art work by Alina Chau (her middle grade graphic novel Marshmallow & Jordan is also beautiful).
I checked out the audiobook version (read by the author m)after listening to the By the Book podcast “live” this book for two weeks.
Now that It's gotten too cold to spend evenings on the patio or go for long outside walks, this book was a nice way to appreciate being inside, especially during the pandemic when other indoor diversions aren't available. I have to remember that I am lucky to have a cozy home and in unending supply of library books from the library, although not as many candles as I ought to have if I want to live the hygge lifestyle!
The first half is so well-written and the characters jump out at you. But, the second half sort of wanders around and the characters be one quite bland. So, worth a read just for the first half, but not great.
Without being in my excellent Great Books book club, I don't think I would have necessity picked this rather large collection of novellas up. Luckily, outside of the three Earthsea titles I chose not to read (based on the authors suggestion of the order to read the Earthsea cycle), I really enjoyed the stories and artistry of Ursula K Le Guin.
More to come including discussion questions I wrote for our meeting.
I can't decide what to think about this book.
It's highly-regarded by authors like Stephen King.
Stanley Kubrick referred to “Killer” as “probably the most chilling and believable first-person story of a criminally warped mind I have ever encountered.”
The beginning of the book, in which Lou Ford “kills” with never-ending platitudes and an “aw shucks” outward demeanor made me think I was in for a treat. The idea of one of the most upstanding citizens of a small town being not what they seem is a great premise.
Yet, the rest of the book was just okay.
“Killer” felt incredibly rushed and needed a free more passes to make it a real classic.
On the positive side, it's sort of interesting to be inside the mind of a psychopath. But, I find it hard to believe that Lou Ford kept his “sickness” at bay despite being a sheriff's deputy. Could it be that he committed more crimes between his youth and the rash of crimes in his 29th year that he didn't remember? We do know that Lou obscures and tries to find justification for his violent acts, so the most horrendous sections of the books are relatively short and hazy.
I found a lot of the dialogue hard to follow (much more so than other noir/pulp fiction writers of the 30s-50s I've read previously). And, other than the first few chapters and the character of Conway, I didn't really hear a Texas flavor to anyone's speech.
I wonder if “Dexter” was influenced by this book at all.
At the end of the day, I can't sash this is a great book, but maybe I'd think differently if I first encountered the book in the 50s.
How I missed out on reading this book as a kid, I am not sure! Robert Louis Stevenson's “A Child's Garden of Verses” was a favorite from a young age and the 1950 Disney adaptation of “Treasure Island,” as well as the 1990's “Muppet Treasure Island” (ha!), were well-known to me.
This book isn't just for kids and is a rip-roaring escape vehicle. Many of the pirate tropes we're so accustomed abound in “Treasure Island.” In fact, I only had to look up a few words because the pirate lexicon has become rather ingrained, especially from movies. This was the December book club pick for my Great Books group; interestingly, some members of the group really didn't like it and were disappointed there weren't more women/girls in the book. In my opinion, girls/women would have had a hard time hiding (and avoid rape) on a pirate ship, especially if they had hit puberty. There's a nice allusion to Edgar Allen Poe's “The Gold Bug” to watch out for.
What I really enjoyed about the book is that it offered more than an adventure tale with a moral at the end; there's some ambiguity on who's good and who's bad leaving the reader room to make their own conclusions.
We can only guess at what Stevenson might have written had he not been felled by illness at a relatively young age. It is also possible Stevenson might not have developed his imagination so fully had he not been ill from his youth onwards. Either way, this is a really good book.
Here are the questions I compiled/edited for the book club meeting using two sources (
https://www.litlovers.com/reading-guides/fiction/9285-treasure-island-stevenson?start=3
https://www.shmoop.com/treasure-island-book/questions.html):
1. Jim is probably around 12 or 13 years of age, a naive and impetuous boy. How does he change during the novel to achieve a level of maturity and perspective? Can you find some examples of how he vacillates between the worlds of childhood and adulthood?
2. Jim Hawkins is the narrator for 31 out of 34 chapters. Why might Stevenson have decided to switch perspectives for these three chapters? How different might the story have been if Jim were the only narrator?
3. With the exception of Jim's mother, who doesn't even get a name, there are no women at all in this novel. Why not? How might Treasure Island be different if Jim Hawkins were Jane Hawkins?
4. Many readers have considered Long John Silver “Treasure Island's” most compelling character. What do you think? Is he thoroughly evil, a stock villain, or more complex? Does he possess any semblance of nobility? Why do you think Stevenson leaves Long John Silver's background and origins a mystery?
5. Both Captain Smollett and Long John Silver lead teams of men. How do their leadership abilities differ from one another? What do their styles suggest about their characters?
6. Jim sees Dr. Livesey as a good man...but not a grand one. Why? How do you see Livesey?
7. Role models are a central theme of the novel. Who do you think is the best example for Jim and who is Jim the most drawn to (Dr. Livesey, Squire Trelawney, Long John Silver, etc.)?
8. Is Ben Gunn stand a cautionary example of someone too long separated from society's civilizing influences?
9. What are is the symbolic significance of flags to the story?
10. Some consider Treasure Island a book about unfettered desire. How does greed motivate the different characters and how does finding the treasure affect them? At the end of the book, why do the gold coins evoke nightmares rather than pleasurable dreams for Jim? Why does Jim have no desire to return for the silver that was left behind?
11. Why did Stevenson reveal the characters' religious views near the end of the adventure?
12. The ending of Treasure Island is intentionally ambiguous without a clear answer on where Long John Silver went. What do you think of Jim's moral reasoning on Silver's escape? Are you glad that Silver gets away with a bag of cash? How might the tone of the novel be different if Silver hadn't escaped punishment?
My Great Books book club discussed Edgar Lee Masters' “Spoon River Anthology” at our 04/27/18 discussion and are looking forward to a serendipitous live performance of said “Anthology” at another library tomorrow.
Set in the small, fictional town of Spoon River, the “Anthology” wends its way through a hillside cemetary, which each of its over 240 inhabitants bending our ear in free verse. Spoon River is based on the poet's childhood homes of the idyllized Petersburg, IL (the first Illinois town Abraham lincoln made his home) and the less satisfactory Lewistown, IL (where you can visit Oak Hill and the graves of many of the real-life inspirations of the “Anthology's” ghostly voices).
This selection is our poetry month read. At first, I was a little daunted to read what appeared to be a lengthy set of poems; in high school, I was particularly into poetry, but have since let my attention fade. However, we try to read some poetry each year either as a standalone or a companion to another reading selection to keep our chops up. After getting past just a few poems, I found the free verse to be the perfect vehicle to travel around Spoon River. Masters originally intended to write Spoon River as a novel, but using epigrams to bring the hillside to life is far more effective. Different voices and personalities come out in a handful of lines in a way they wouldn't in prose; we can also hear directly from each person by being in their head. Could we have hear what Benjamin and Mrs. Pantier (on neighboring pages) thought of the other in quite the same way?
The “Anthology” also fits nicely into Illinois' 2018 Bicentennial. I asked the group if (see question 8 below) the “Anthology” felt particularly Illioinoisian and I got back that it seemed as though it could have taken place anwhere between western Pennsylvania and Iowa and that it seemed quite Midwestern, whereas another lady thought it seemed universal. If we ignore the Herndon and Anne Rutledge tie-ins to President Lincoln (Illinois is still “The Land of Lincoln” on our license plates), what comes through is an interconnected web of small-town people. Both towns ranged from 2,000 to closer to 3,000 during Masters' lifetime. In the late 1800s and early 1900s, Central/Western Illinois still retained some of its earlier, and much wilder, character, but also carried the Lincoln mantle and Chicago's upstate honors and that comes through. Another book club member said that friends of hers read the “Anthology” aloud together and do feel that the book is very much of the that area of Illinois, which I hope to visit soon.
What also comes through is the dichotomy of peace and violence, country and city, North and South; something the author felt came from both parents and ran through the area. Different cemetary inhabitants are refined while others are drunken, some are evangelists and others murderers. As you read one poem, another person is referenced, and you can skip to that person and hear their side of the story.
“Spoon River” was banned for years in Menard and Fulton counties; in fact, the author's mother, a local librarian, voted to ban her own son's book. As you read the poems, many named directly or indirectly, after real people and referencing real events, it is no wonder the book was banned. I kept thinking how scandalous it must have been to read that an upstanding townsman and his wife were estranged because he was a drunk. It is no surprise that Masters had an in; his father was a local lawyer and his grandfaher a minister and both likely heard every local tale.
Masters was influenced by Shelly, Goethe, Drieser, and especially Spinoza. The introduction to my version by the University of Illinois explained Spinoza's influence as follows: we think of ourselves as the whole, as opposed to understanding that we are a piece of the whole. And that theme runs through “Spoon River.” The most unhappy people are those that don't feel connected to others or to nature and who haven't accepted that their own behavior created their end.
A few of my favorites were 107 (Benjamin Fraser), 116 (Hare Drummer), 117 (Conrad Siever), and 198 (Ernest Hyde), yet so many are interesting.
Unfortunately, the “Anthology” ends with a strange “Epilogue,” not in the style of the rest of the collection. It was an addition to the 1916 re-release and feels hamfisted; the “Spooniad,” in my opinion, works much better as a capstone. The Epilogue is basically trying too hard with ridiculous classical allusions. And that is what loses a star for me. But, it is a work I hope many people pick up this work that can be enjoyed whether you hail from the Prairie State or not.
Here are the questions that another book club member shared for today's discussion, with a few more that I added at the end:
1. What is your first response of reading “Spoon River Anthology?” Did you like it? Is the introduction poem (“sleeping on a hill”) helpful is setting the mood for this somber book? What words can you use to describe this book's theme, mood, style?
2. “Spoon River Anthology” was Masters' most remembered work. It sold a lot of copies in its time, but some libraries banned it for its negative portrayals of small-town life. Why do you think it was banned? Does Masters demythologize the idyllic small-town image? Would you describe it as unsentimental, painfully honest, realistic, exaggerated, critical? Why do you think it sparked a controversy? What makes Spoon River Anthology so appealing to the readers who appreciate this book?
3. “Spoon River” is spoken by voices of the dead, and fate and tragedy are central to the books message. How many causes of demise and death can you name from this book and it's characters? How does this shape your opinions of these characters? Would you say their reputations are tarnished? Are you sympathetic or repulsed by these characters?
4. How many characters can you name in which fates and lives are interconnected? Would you compare Spoon River Anthology to a city or town of today in its depictions of tragic problems: crime, abortion, bullying, stds, alcoholism, suicide, adultery?
5. Although Masters grew up in small towns in Illinois (Lewistown and Petersburg), Masters lived and worked in Chicago as a lawyer. In Chicago, he remembered his walks through the town cemeteries and the names he saw there as he was writing this book. One of those graves was Ann Rutledge's grave in Petersburg. Ann was a very real person and her poem is very patriotic. Would you consider this irony compared to the rest of the book? Is this book “gossip” or “unpatriotic” for its frank, truthful, sometimes cruel descriptions?
6. How does the epilogue in voices shape your response to this book? Is it unethical to know too much about these people and their suffering? Should we as an audience, aware of tragic news reports, feel obligated to be aware of the tragedies of the world? Does this tragic awareness change us, make us wiser, make us want to get involved to change society for the better?
7. Did the novel feel particulary Illinoisian or Midwestern to you? Or did the sense of place seem like it could be many locations?
8. Originally, Masters intended to write Spoon River as prose, but eventually switched to poetry. Does free verse work best for “Spoon River?” How might the sonnet form, short stoies, or a long-form novel have had a different effect?
If you're a Harry Potter fan, this a nice little anecdotal book. I loved the series, but I suppose I'm not a massive fan because I didn't really enjoy the book.
I listened to the audiobook version via the Libby app and Eddy Redmayne does a nice job with material. The production includes sound effects of the various beasts, which is rather fun.
PBS' Great American Read program introduced me to Jason Reynolds and “Ghost.” And, I'm so glad! This is a delightful Book because we hear the voice of a teenager who is just learning he has a talent for running, but also that he sometimes doesn't make the best decisions. And that he can find ways to take a horrible experience that shattered his family and rise above.
I loved the characters in this book because they are real people with real issues and real ways of looking at things. This is not just for young adults; a good book is a good book. And I look forward to reading additional books in this series, as well as other books by this author.
Also, I listened to the audiobook version on Libby and the narrator was amazing!
I'm afraid this book comes in at 3.5 stars for me, but I had to round down. Hold the rotten tomatoes! My rating does not mean that I didn't enjoy “The Remains of the Day.” I did! And I recommend it to others, especially those that enjoy character studies and interesting points of view. Yet, I did not leave the book with the sense that it was a masterpiece as I have often heard or that it was worthy of a major book award (side note - I am largely unimpressed by the Man Booker prize recipients and have been disgusted with a few in recent years). Also, I don't think the movie version, which was quite faithful in my memory, impacted my view of the book; in fact, it was an excellent adaptation and captured the pace, plot, and characters well.
Are we to believe that Stevens could exhibit that much grace under pressure/show must go on/stiff upper lip and show few cracks even in his inner monologue that we are privileged to view? Could the repression of emotions and choosing not to explore a life outside of service be entirely self-selected? In my opinion, no, as many signs point towards autism. Stevens rarely forms a real connection to anyone other than Miss Kenton, including his own father. Even then, he has real difficulty expressing his thoughts and feelings to her and ends up criticizing her when he intended to ask how she was doing after the death of a beloved aunt.
Stevens also exhibits an inability to empathize, to understand the emotions of others, or to banter. In some ways, this innate ability to retain a wall between himself and the staff below or his superiors above made Stevens ideal for the almost monk-like life of service expected from the butler of large, English country homes before World War II. While Stevens seeks to emulate not only his father, but also other great butlers of the English countryside, he moves further into exile and isn't able to answer the call to change his life. While he is comforted by routine, and, in fact, thrives on extreme order, are we sure Stephens ever feels at home in Darlington?
Some of the most touching moments occur when Stevens is merely sitting in a bench near a sweet pond or on a pier watching the lights go on as the sun falls. It is then that he becomes aware that both his inborn character and chosen path have left him lonely and regrets the path not taken with Miss Kenton.
Yet, could he truly have taken a different path? Consider Miss Kenton's threat to leave Darlington after two excellent understaff are let go for being Jewish. She later explains that she had nowhere to go, no well-off relatives to support her, or other positions (nearly impossible at that time without a written reference, especially for a housekeeper of a large home). Stevens was similarly limited. Perhaps, in addition to the inner boundaries, he was aware that leaving service meant that he would need to find an alternate livelihood, no mean feat in a time when educational opportunities were likely out of his reach and class distinctions played a much larger role.
Further fleshing out Stevens' possible autism is the specter of poor communication with others including the audience. It is not Stevens who tells the reader that he breaks into tears at the death of his father or when Mrs. Benn tells him that she thought she may have had a happier life with Stevens than with her husband; it is Lord Darlington or the stranger on the pier. Stevens even has problems communicating with himself, sometimes through fallible memories and other times due to single-minded focus on duty and dignity.
The old theme that the sins of the father are visited upon the son is also a current running through “The Remains of the Day.” The rigidity and inability to enjoy or, what's more, savor every moment have environmental and biological origins for Stephens, even if autism is an inaccurate assessment. Stephens' father chooses a life in service, never attaining the heights his son does, and yet was known for quality work. I wished for a little back story on both Stephens' father and his mother, who I don't think is even mentioned. It was unusual for someone to return to service after being married and having children, although not out of the question.
Lord Darlington is also somewhat of a father figure to Stephens. Is it surprising that Stephens would look up to Lord Darlington when we see that his own father (always referred to as Father in the third person) was not emotionally available? All three men make choices that ultimately leave them lonely in old age, left with feelings of failure. One wonders whether Lord Darlington truly made his own choices, or how much he was guided by others. Ultimately, we are not islands and are always guided by others and by our own limitations. On the last page, it seemed that Stevens, faced with no Miss Kenton in his future, begins thinking about how he can avoid the recent mistakes due to age and better satisfy his new employer, Mr. Farraday. Again, he turns back to the known, or as relatively familiar as working for an American unschooled in the upper class restraint Stevens is accustomed to.
Perhaps, for me, this book pales a bit after reading “The Door” by Magda's Szabo. While that book is also presented from the employer's point of view, I felt that every element of that novel more richly explored some similar themes (duty/success in work trumping personal relationships, inability to communicate or change at key moments).
All in all, the book is a meditative and interesting view into the quiet tragedy of a man unable to reach for fulfillment and is certainly worth a read.
Really, this is more of a 3.49 star book in my opinion, but I can't quite round up to 4.
I particularly enjoyed the beginning and thought I might be in for a heroine along the lines of Amelia Peabody, but Lady Ashton fell a bit short. Yet, I enjoyed her experiments with flouting conventions of the Victorian area and, particularly, the structures of her overbearing mother. I also enjoyed her burgeoning intellectual pursuits, although I was surprised that she never seems to read “The Odyssey,” since she's a bit of a Penelope.
However, Lady Emily was a bit of a jerk and certainly had no interest in getting to know her husband. As the book progressed, I felt worse and worse for the poor man.
Generally, although it was clear to me who the evildoer was from the beginning, I still liked some of the devices Tasha Alexander used to increase suspense. All in all, this was an enjoyable read and certainly makes me interested in finding out what happens in the next installment.
After listening to an interview with the author, Larry Tye, I put this audiobook on hold at the library.
During American history class in both middle and high school, post-World War II events were barely addressed. This was pretty typical of the textbooks available to Gen Xers, frankly. Coverage of Bobby Kennedy's brother, JFK, more largely limited to the Bay of Pigs, the beginnings of US intervention in Vietnam, and his assassination. Bobby was practically a footnote, the focus being his own tragic assassination.
Until I heard the interview, I did not know that Bobby started off supporting Joe McCarthy's anti-Communist trials. One interesting side note is that Roy Cohn, an attorney and a key member of McCarthy's team, was one of Bobby's early nemeses. Roy Cohn went on to assistant the Trump family, becoming an important influence on Donald Trump.
Also illuminating was what seemed to be a very balanced portrayal of Bobby's aggressive, ambitious nature and his family loyalty. I knew that Bobby was JFK's attorney general, but did not know that Bobby also ran JFK's campaigns, nor his animosity towards LBJ (completely returned!).
There were moments I got a little side-tracked, but I was listening to the audiobook version during my daily commute. Although I can't compare this biography to any prior versions, Mr. Tye definitely uses direct sources and was quite thorough in his presentation of RFK's life.
Overall, the biography is really well-done and timely during a contentious election and race and gender issues I wish had improved in the last 50 years.
After avoiding “Swing Time” despite what seems like waves and waves of critical praise, I finally broke down and picked up the book after hearing an interview with Zadie Smith on Fresh Air.
“ST” captures the author's views motherhood, friendship, being biracial, etc., at least according to the interview I heard. Yet, when I read the first 100 pages, I found a rambling mishmash of short chapters that were supposed to be from the viewpoint of girls growing up in the 80s, which sounded like an adult trying to write about childhood. Then, we jump forward to the narrator working for a celebrity and that's also just soooo boring.
Thusly, I put the book down and am quite glad I picked this up from the library and didn't buy it.
Just a few weeks ago, PBS aired a documentary about a woman of Chinese and Jamaican ethnicity that goes on several trips to learn more about her ancestors. I happened to pick up Kerry Young's novel, “Show Me A Mountain” just beforehand and had to hold off until I finished a book club book.
Kerry Young is also of Chinese-Jamaican descent and now lives in England as highly-regarded professor and author of previous books. I was very excited to read this book and more stories about this ethnic group I had only recently learned about. What I got in the first 50 pages was staccato writing from the point of view of a prepubescent and then pubescent girl whose mother is abusive. Staccato writing can be very effective, but pages and pages of it is hard to process.
I decided to abandon this book and try another of Kerry Young's titles, “Pao,” which won a few awards and is a story about a Chinese immigrant to Jamaica.
If anyone reads this review and can encourage me to keep going because the book gets better, please do!
First, I shall state that I, unlike many other reviewers who enjoyed this book in serialized form, listened to the audiobook version. I read that the app created for this novel contains lots of historical background to the real-life Cubitt, so I don't know if reading the book through the app would have been more enjoyable.
Juliet Stevenson did an excellent job giving voices to each character, which is no surprise as she is a delightful actress. Her performance is the reason I give 2 stars to Julian Fellowes' Belgravia instead of just one.
This book is really quite tedious. While the book starts off with a decent premise (following the stories of some of the people pictured in “The Duchess of Richmond's Ball” capturing the gliterati the night before Waterloo. But, the plot devolves into a drawn-out story filled with cardboard characters. The novel starts out slow, stays slow, and is dullsville even during big reveals. Every thought characters have is spelled out ad infinitum, even though it is clear what they are thinking from their actions or reactions.
Even worse, the characters generally do not speak or act as their live counterparts would have in the 1840s Victorian London. Perhaps, the author was attempting to create an Austen/Gaskell/Eliot mashup that could appeal to modern readers. And that is a failing; I find it hard to believe, for example, that anyone in the upper middle to upper classes would spend ages talking about wanting to be a parent and teach their child how to hunt; it was much more about having an heir in place so their lovely estates wouldn't be entailed away.
Of course, there's some “Upstairs, Downstairs” in this novel, which I find to be a useful technique missing in Austen and Gaskell. But the two servants who turn against the Trenchards seem to do so with little encouragement or motivation.
The big reveal at the end made no sense whatsoever. Do you mean to tell me that Lady Caroline Brockenhurst would not at least give her husband an inkling that they have a grandson and heir before telling nearly the entire cast of the novel? It was sort of like a Hercule Poirot murder-solution and just did not work.
I will end by saying that I really wanted to enjoy “Belgravia.” I think there is a place for this type of story in today's fiction offerings and have enjoyed some of Fellowes' work in the past (especially the brilliant “Gosford Park” screenplay).
Straight up garbage. I've heard Ruth Ware is a good writer, but I can't agree based on this mess. Lo is so boringly unreliable and stupid that I had to dispense with the book after hitting the 1/7th mark. Waste of time!
“Dark Matter” is a nice respite after reading “The Book of Margery Kempe.” Instead of a 15th century woman flinging herself on the floor and weeping piteously over the love of Jesus (true story), we have a man flinging himself through the multiverse to get back to his beloved wife and child (sometimes weeping or lurking obsessively, though).
Blake Crouch has put together an interesting science fiction/suspense-ish story for us. It's quite cinematic and I fully expect to see a movie adaptation arrive in the near future. Who has not asked themselves about the road not taken and where they might be with just one or two different choices?
But, as to depth, well, not so much. Beyond a good premise, I found myself wanting to slap Jason Dessen, who just seemed lackadaisical about traipsing through alternate realities to be with his wife and child. We learn that family is all that matters and you should never choose your career first because you will become an evil genius. However, if you are living and ask boring questions at the dinner table, then you're a-okay. Not a terrible moral, but a bit ham-fisted.
I did find the writing style a little annoying. Many “paragraphs” contained a word or two. It seems like the author tried to make the book longer or more suspenseful with this structure.
All in all, perhaps a 2.78 rating for me, but an entertaining 2.78.
Many of a have lost pets and had to make the agonizing decision of when or if to let our dear animal go. To many non-household members, this situation doesn't mean much. But, to us, it's heart-wrenching and the grieving process is long.
After absolutely loving the author's “The Guncle,” I had high hopes for this earlier book. But, I found myself checking out almost right away. The entire octopus analogy was way too drawn out and childish. Once I hit the halfway point and little had happened, I decided to skim. Thank God, because the boat trip was making me lose my mind just peering at the pages.
I still have high hopes for Steven Rowley's books, but cannot recommend this one.