The Penguin English Library Project

After administering a final exam on Monday, my spring semester is nearly over -- there's just some marking to do! Since I won't be teaching over the summer, I decided it would be worthwhile to take on a new reading project. Also, I desperately need to catch up on the bookish goals that were pushed to the backburner while school's been in session. When I saw O post this list of classics from The Penguin English Library, I instantly knew I wanted to make a project of it.

Like Emma Woodhouse, I make a good list but often have trouble following through. However, this list mirrors my general reading tastes while pushing me in some new directions. I think it will urge me to open some titles that I might otherwise neglect but are nevertheless pertinent to my research interests. I'll be working on this alongside my Classics Club project.

Without further ado, here it is...

1. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
2. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
3. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
4. Persuasion by Jane Austen
5. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley
6. Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens
7. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll
8. Emma by Jane Austen
9. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens
10. Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
11. The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson
12. Great Expectations by Charles Dickens
13. Dracula by Bram Stoker
14. The Hound of the Baskervilles by Arthur Conan Doyle
15. Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe
16. North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell
17. Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen
18. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
19. Where Angels Fear to Tread by E.M. Forster
20. A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
21. Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen
22. Middlemarch by George Eliot
23. David Copperfield by Charles Dickens
24. The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins
25. Mansfield Park by Jane Austen
26. Moby Dick by Herman Melville
27. The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte
28. Gulliver's Travels by Jonathan Swift
29. The Murders in the Rue Morgue and Other Tales by Edgar Allan Poe
30. Dombey and Son by Charles Dickens
31. The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins
32. Silas Marner by George Eliot
33. Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad
34. Bleak House by Charles Dickens
35. The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells
36. The Time Machine by H.G. Wells
37. The Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickens
38. Howard's End by E.M. Forster
39. Tess of the D'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy
40. The Five Orange Pips and Other Cases by Arthur Conan Doyle
41. The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne
42. Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell
43. Hard Times by Charles Dickens
44. Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy
45. Villette by Charlotte Bronte
46. New Grub Street by George Gissing
47. A Room With a View by E.M. Forster
48. The Island of Doctor Moreau by H.G. Wells
49. Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens
50. Little Dorrit by Charles Dickens
51. Evelina by Frances Burney
52. Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy
53. Lady Audley's Secret by Mary Elizabeth Braddon
54. Shirley by Charlotte Bronte
55. Dubliners by James Joyce
56. The Monk by Matthew Lewis
57. The Invisible Man by H.G. Wells
58. The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy by Laurence Sterne
59. Kim by Rudyard Kipling
60. Daniel Deronda by George Eliot
61. The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton
62. Ivanhoe by Walter Scott
63. Barchester Towers by Anthony Trollope
64. Nicholas Nickleby by Charles Dickens
65. Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton
66. Martin Chuzzlewit by Charles Dickens
67. Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackeray
68. Wives and Daughters Elizabeth Gaskell
69. Joseph Andrews by Henry Fielding
70. The Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner by James Hogg
71. Daisy Miller and The Turn of the Screw by Henry James
72. The Old Curiosity Shop by Charles Dickens
73. Tom Jones by Henry Fielding
74. Mary Barton by Elizabeth Gaskell
75. The Man Who Was Thursday by G.K. Chesterton
76. The Mill on the Floss by George Eliot
77. Pamela by Samuel Richardson
78. The Wings of the Dove by Henry James
79. The Mayor of Casterbridge by Thomas Hardy
80. The Return of the Native by Thomas Hardy
81. Lord Jim by Joseph Conrad
82. The Way of All Flesh by Samuel Butler
83. Barnaby Brudge by Charles Dickens
84. The Portrait of a Lady by Henry James
85. Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson
86. The Warden by Anthony Trollope
87. The Mystery of Edwin Drood by Charles Dickens
88. Washington Square by Henry James
89. The Confidence-Man and Billy Budd, Sailor by Herman Melville
90. Under the Greenwood Tree by Thomas Hardy
91. Nostromo by Joseph Conrad
92. The Small House at Allington by Anthony Trollope
93. Sons and Lovers by D.H. Lawrence
94. The Secret Agent by Joseph Conrad
95. Doctor Thorne by Anthony Trollope
96. The Last Chronicle of Barset by Anthony Trollope
97. Framley Parsonage by Anthony Trollope
98. Two on a Tower by Thomas Hardy
99. Melmoth the Wanderer by Charles Maturin
100. Humphry Clinker by Tobias Smollett

The titles I've already read are presented in bold. With 33 completed I've made a respectable start but have quite a few new titles to dig into as well. Are any favourites of yours on this list?

Essays of Elia: My 'New' Antiquarian Treasure

Since reading The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, I've been dying to get my hands on this collection of essays by Charles Lamb. This text sets the novel in motion and forges bonds between the characters. 

I fell in love with this nineteenth-century edition as soon as I laid eyes on it at a charming antique shop in Park City. Sadly I was jobless (ahem, broke) at the time, so fortune compelled me to leave it on the shelves. When I spotted it again during the Sundance Film Festival, I snatched it right up! When I saw that the book had waited for me to return, I sentimentally concluded we were literary soul mates. 

I haven't had time to read it yet, but I believe Charles Lamb would be perfect on a leisurely, sunshiny sort of day. As an animal studies fanatic, I'm especially anticipating the infamous 'A Dissertation Upon Roast Pig,' and I'm sure Lamb's other literary gems will also delight me. 

Behold! My new baby!

Floral cover

The book features no discernible year of publication, 

but the inscription dates from 1897:

Presented to Mattie Read by the Twenty-First Ward

Primary Association as a Token of Thanks, Appreciation and a

Memento of Feb. 18 and 19, 1897

Title page

'Mankind...for the first seventy thousand ages ate their meat raw,

clawing or biting it from the living animal, just as they do in Abyssinia to this day.'

I Have Been...

Poppy Field Near Vetheuil (1879) by Claude Monet

{Reading}

Finished The Grand Sophy by Georgette Heyer yesterday.

Just ordered Jerome K. Jerome's Three Men in a Boat.

Bibliotherapy continues. :)

{Writing}

Academic work on Elizabeth Gaskell

and Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 

(Three cheers for all the great Elizabeths!)

{Looking}

 At flowers, buds and plants.

Currently obsessed by all flora and fauna.

{Listening}

Regina Spektor's Samson. So haunting!

 Bach's various string compositions. So invigorating!

{Watching}

Emma. This adaptation is sunshine for my soul:

 

{Feeling}

 Discouraged by my recent past yet hopeful for my future.

Also, hungry. Time for a snack.

{Anticipating}

 The imminent blooming of our tulips.

A forthcoming holiday in June.

{Loving}

Percy. Poor thing hurt his paw today, 

but he's revelled in the extra attention. 

Dogs are the best.

Bibliotherapy

My haul

I've been feeling rather rotten lately and -- what's worse! -- feeling sorry for myself because I feel rotten. Lots of feelings, few of them benign. At times like these I do what any self-respecting bibliophile does: I buy books! I don't need them. I won't even read them immediately. But damnit, I need some bibliotherapy*!! 

I took myself to my local Barnes and Noble on Saturday, accompanied by a short list of books from my wish list. None of them were in stock. Not one! With my brother by my side, I lamented about the many woes of being a reader whose tastes are far superior to the general reading public while I marched towards the magazines to pick up the latest issue of Marie Claire. [Editor's note: Snob? Hypocrite? Probably both.]

Luckily I found a lovely anthology of P.G. Wodehouse fiction just before closing time. While I've been enamored with the Blandings stories for several years now (I pay homage to him here), I still haven't read any Jeeves. Luckily for me, this charming edition contains two Jeeves novels and one collection of short stories: Joy in the Morning; Very Good, Jeeves!; and Right Ho, Jeeves. According to the blurb on the back, 'P.G. Wodehouse is the gold standard of English wit.' I agree! Looking forward to digging into this one, and the cover is so cute...  

I also stumbled upon a bargain priced edition of The Professor and the Madman by Simon Winchester. This non-fiction text focuses on James Murray, head of the 1887 committee formed to compile the OED, who is surprised to learn that one of the chief contributors to the project is an imprisoned murderer. Gripping material, indeed.

Needless to say, I left the store (haul in one hand, frappuccino in the other) a happy camper. What is it about buying books that boosts one's serotonin levels? Normally I frown upon retail addictions, but how can one argue against a propensity to buying what will actually provide a valuable experience and, ideally anyway, an increase in knowledge (as opposed to the new top that will be out of style in six months)? I mean, really.

Jane Austen also gave me a large dose of medicinal wit. Ah, Jane! I can always count on you. One cable channel thoughtfully broadcast the BBC Pride and Prejudice all weekend long. Consequently, I spent most of it in bed indulging in the following: overdosing on Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy, overdosing on Daniel Vincent Gordh as Darcy in the latest episode of The Lizzie Bennet Diaries (which I've watched more times than I care to admit), or reading Georgette Heyer's The Grand Sophy which features a Darcyesque hero. And you know, between my new haul and the inundation of all things Darcy, I feel infinitely better today than I did on Friday.

 

Bibliotherapy to the rescue! :)

Have you read anything from my haul? Do you have books or adaptations you turn to when feeling down in the dumps? If so, please pass on your recommendations.

*I have shamefully stolen this quaint term from Rachel of BookSnob and Old Fashioned Girls.

A Spring Reading Update

Tuscan Spring 2011

Praise to the gods who urged man, with all his faults, to instate the practice of spring break! I am halfway through my own now, and I'm revelling in the glorious relaxation and enjoyment of spring it has allowed. Hallelujah!

With an entire week at my disposal I've been luxuriating in balmy spring weather during meandering walks with the dogs, sleeping in every morning, visiting with friends, watching old classics (think Jimmy Stewart and Cary Grant)...and reading! So far this year I've had little time to read for pleasure, and I've felt the absence keenly. Only now have I had the chance to sit and enjoy a book, and it. is. heaven.

The only literary dilemma I've faced this week is the overwhelming confusion about what book to pick up. So many books are calling to me, and narrowing it down to one at a time has been the most arduous task. Though I'm reading at an idle pace to suit my relaxed disposition, I'm making more progress on my reading goals than I have all year.

I finished Caitlin Moran's How to Be a Woman the other day and thoroughly enjoyed it. Rave reviews from Simon and Claire urged me to pick her up, and I'm pleased I followed their advice. While I certainly didn't agree with all of Moran's views, I more often found myself nodding while reading with a 'Just So!' sort of spirit. In any case, her snarky delivery makes reading a treat, and I'm sorely tempted to pick up Moranthology (apparently a collection of her journalistic pieces) immediately. However, I'm not sure yet another book on my tbr pile is what I need at the moment, so it'll have to wait. More thoughts on this one later.

I deliberated long and hard before selecting Moran's successor. Should I go with a classic? Something that related to my research in order to kill two birds with one stone? In the end, I chose the text that I thought would make me happiest right now: The Grand Sophy. A good Georgette Heyer novel never fails to perk me up, and she matches the spring liveliness I'm experiencing at the moment. Nearly a third of the way through it, I find myself experiencing the little pleasures of Regency London life along with the characters. I'm riding spirited bays through Hyde Park in the afternoon and dressing in that new gown before attending an assembly at Almack's in the evening. It's just the sort of escape I need at the moment.

I'm not sure what's up next on the reading agenda, but I hope to get going with my Classics Spin! selection before the week is out: Maria Edgeworth's Patronage. Regency novels seem to be the order of the day, but I'd also like to read a text that truly reflects the season, like The Secret Garden or The Wind in the Willows. (Both are languishing on the shelves.) Ah, decisions!

What are you reading right now? Anything you'd recommend?

The Classics Spin!

Fallen Asleep While Reading (1872)

William Powell Frith

Though I'm currently inundated with a variety of projects, both professional and personal, I'm longing for an entire week of nothing but leisure reading. Hopefully, my March schedule will ease up (keep your fingers crossed for me!) so I can indulge in some good -- nay, fantastic -- books. Ah, what luxury.

Even if it's a bit late, I've decided to join The Classics Spin! The concept is to select twenty unread titles from your Classics Club list: five titles one is dreading, five highly anticipated titles, five titles to which one is different, and five wild card titles (a category of one's own choosing). I'm not particularly dreading any titles on my list, but I'm most intimidated by chunksters right now as I worry that my easily distracted brain will abandon them after a few brief chapters. Time to face my fears. I also mentally chastise myself for not reading the wealth of children's classics sitting on my shelves, so that genre will be represented in my wild card selections.

The Classics Club randomly selected #14 as the title for participants to read, but I'm stealing a page from Cassandra's book by having a random generator decide which title I read so I can still experience the luck of the draw. The goal is to read the text in its entirety before April 1st.

Behold, my chosen titles...

Five Chunksters:

1. The Brontes by Juliet Barker

2. No Name by Wilkie Collins

3. Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens

4. Cecilia by Fanny Burney

5. Patronage by Maria Edgeworth

Five Titles I Can't Wait to Read:

6. The Warden by Anthony Trollope (barely made a dent in this in January!)

7. Adam Bede by George Eliot

8. The Pursuit of Love by Nancy Mitford

9. The History of Pompey the Little by Francis Coventry

10. A Sentimental Journey by Laurence Sterne

Five Titles About Which I Am Currently Indifferent:

11. The Coming Race by Edward Bulwer-Lytton

12. The House of Seven Gables by Nathaniel Hawthorne

13. Diary of a Nobody by George Grossmith

14. Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf

15. East Lynne by Ellen Wood

Wild Card -- Five Children's Classics:

16. The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame

17. The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling

18. Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson

19. The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

20. Black Beauty by Anna Sewell

And now my randomly generated number: 5

I will be reading Patronage by Maria Edgeworth in March. I swear I didn't cheat! I was sort of hoping I'd 'get stuck' with a chunkster, as I need a gentle push to get going with these. I usually end up loving chunksters, so a little nudge is appreciated. I'm quite happy with this result. :)

If you're also participating in the spin, I'd love to hear what you'll be reading and your feelings about it. Are you apprehensive? Excited?

Simple Pleasures: Literary Jewelry

Brains are the only things worth having in this world, no matter whether one is a crow or a man.  -- L. Frank Baum

Receiving an unexpected package in the mail is one of life's best surprises. So I was thrilled to discover my dear friend had sent me a little something from across the pond. Finding this necklace with a quote from The Wizard of Oz only increased my elation; it was the icing on the cake so to speak. The enclosed note informed me it's meant to function as an anti-idiot charm, and I must say I feel a certain sense of protection when I wear it! Now I'm convinced I should begin collecting literary themed jewelry. Is there a better kind?

I hope your weekend includes some pleasant surprises. :)

Mirabeau's The Lifted Curtain

Comte de Mirabeau -- sexy man!

Wow, I'm busy! With a flu worse than anything I've experienced in years, teaching, marking, researching and preparing for my little sister's upcoming wedding, recreational reading finds itself at the bottom of my to-do list. Still, I have been doing some reading, and I wanted to share some thoughts....

As I briefly mentioned in a previous post, my recent research focuses on two areas: representations of animals and transgressive sexualities. Currently I'm trying to find a way to effectively combine them, and it's proving to be an enjoyable challenge. The Lifted Curtain by Honore Gabriel Riqueti, comte de Mirabeau decidedly falls into the latter category. While he's not known to many, Mirabeau is an eighteenth-century French revolutionary, politician...and writer of erotica. 

If his Wikipedia biography can be trusted (doubtful, but let's run with it!), Mirabeau led a colorful life. Disfigurement as the result of smallpox contracted at the age of three only served to earn his father's disdain. He engaged in a plethora of scandalous affairs, was condemned to death and imprisoned, etc., etc. Really, it reads like a novel. Funnily enough he and the Marquis de Sade were acquainted with one another but, despite their similarities, firmly disliked one another. This snippet concerning how he came to be married especially fascinated me:

After several months of failed attempts at being introduced to the heiress, Mirabeau bribed one of the young lady's maids to let him into her residence, where he pretended to have had a sexual encounter with Emilie. To avoid losing face, her father saw that they got married just a couple of days afterwards. 

I think I can safely assume that, even back then, this is not the how-we-met story about which a young girl dreamed.

With these biographical tidbits in mind, much of The Lifted Curtain doesn't surprise me: thin on plot, heavy on sexcapades in which rules and inhibitions merit no consideration. I won't delve into details in case any shy readers stumble upon this, but suffice it to say this novella seemingly promotes a libertinism in which anything goes in the bedroom...or out of it for that matter.

Yet in The Lifted Curtain and other similar texts I've noticed a worrying trend. While this novella smugly claims to promote sexual freedom in a repressive society, sexually liberated women undoubtedly threaten Mirabeau and his contemporaries. At the very least, a palpable air of discomfort permeates the genre. A stock figure emerges time and again: the woman who is too unrestrained, enjoys sex too much and inevitably comes to a bad end.

The character of Rose serves as a manifestation of archetype. Well, she's not a character, as I'm not sure Mirabeau explores any fictional personage with enough depth to warrant the term; so there's not much to say about her. What happens to her intrigues me. Shortly after her introduction in the narrative, the protagonist's father figure divulges the following:

Rose will be the victim of her own passion and fiery temperament. There is no holding her back. Already she is abandoning herself to pleasure with a fury that I have never before seen in a woman. You can bet your last franc that she will pay a heavy penalty for her excesses. 

Strong words. Interestingly enough, the father figure in question exhibits the most taboo behaviour in the narrative. By far. Nevertheless, his actions are unreservedly excused while the author condemns the woman. Sure enough, she soon meets the afore-mentioned inevitable bad end:

Unable to stop herself in her mad drive for pleasure. Rose finally succumbed to it. When she stopped menstruating, she had an abortion, which took a terrible toll on her. She suffered from agonizing fits of dizziness and her sight began to fail. She more resembled a walking wraith than a human being. The cheerful spirited young woman had vanished. Finally, the lingering illness brought her to the grave. 

Bleak indeed.

What's curious to me as a reader is this: we so often write off, no pun inteded, authors like Dickens for his blatant sexism. (And rightfully so! Much as I love him, misogyny was his flaw.) Yet Mirabeau, the Marquis de Sade and others often get a free pass because they're hiding behind this mask of sexual freedom. What they really mean is sexual freedom for men, or sexual liberation for women as it serves men's purposes. In my mind, this doesn't qualify as liberation at all. They are, as the film incarnation of Bridget Jones would say, 'just as bad as the rest of them.' Many have labelled this genre as progressive, but I just don't see it. While Mirabeau cries for revolution and liberty, his gender politics remain archaic.

Have you noticed any similar dichotomies between what authors claim to promote and what their writing actually suggests? I feel like this happens more frequently than we readers notice or acknowledge. But now that it's on my mind I'm trying to think of further instances. Can you offer any examples?

Simple Pleasures: Baby Hands With Baby Books

There's nothing cuter than chubby baby hands digging into a baby book. While watching my friend's children recently, I couldn't resist snapping a few photos of her sweet baby boy engrossed in a book. Isn't it wonderful to see little ones enjoying books, knowing that the interest will (with any luck) develop into a lifelong journey with literature as the years progress? This is where the love affair starts!

Celebrating 200 Years of Pride and Prejudice

With a flu virus so miserable I haven't even been able to indulge in some escapist reading in bed, this week past week has been a doozy. And while this is a few days late, I would be very remiss if I didn't give a little shout out to one of my most treasured books:

Happy 200th Birthday Pride and Prejudice! Here's to 200 more!

As I've said on this blog before, this novel marked my first experience reading a classic. It was my literary gateway drug. Therefore, I feel like I owe Jane Austen a debt for introducing me to the fabulous world of literature.

Speaking of Jane, I always wonder what she would think of all the Pride and Prejudice madness that endures (and only seems to increase!) so many years later, from Colin Firth in a Wet Shirt to Elizabeth Bennet as a zombie killer. She was so humorous and good natured, I have sneaking suspicion she's find it all rather amusing. Even after 200 years, we certainly haven't become bored with this story.

Somehow, I doubt we ever will.

Where I Want to Be, Via Bill Bryson

With so many work projects occupying my time, I haven't been able to indulge in pleasure reading as much as I would wish. Luckily, Bill Bryson has proved to be the perfect read for one who doesn't have, say, an entire afternoon to devote to the perusal of a book. Notes from a Small Island features little vignettes of the author's experiences in Britain, and I still feel like I'm able to fully grasp the essence of the text even if I only read a few pages while eating lunch or a short chapter before turning out the lights for bed.

{Tangential aside: has anybody noticed how difficult this is to achieve with a long novel? For me at least, it's impossible to truly immerse myself in a book like David Copperfield if I can only read small bits here and there. Detailed narratives demand a reader's attention, and if that's not something I'm able to give, I'm doomed to failure -- by which I mean, I set the book aside until a time with fewer distractions presents itself. Thoughts?}

Anyway, Bill Bryson immediately charmed with his description of first arriving in England. He fully captured the excitement, the air of possiblity permeating the atmosphere of one who finally sets foot on a long-desired travel destination. I found myself nodding in agreement as he shares his experience on pg. 15:

Everything that lay before me was new and mysterious and exciting in a way you can't imagine. England was full of words I'd never heard before -- streaky bacon, short back and sides, Belisha beacon, serviettes, high tea, ice cream cornet. I didn't know how to pronounce scone or pasty or Towcester or Slough, I had never heard of Tesco's, Perthshire or Denbighshire, council houses, Morecambe and Wise, railway cuttings, Christmas crackers, bank holidays, seaside rock, milk floats, trunk calls, Scotch eggs, Morris Minors, or Poppy Day. For all I knew, when a car had an L-plate on the back of it, it indicated that it was being driven by a leper. I was positively radiant with ignorance. The simplest transactions were a mystery to me. I saw a man in a newsagent's ask for "twenty Number Six" and receive cigarettes, and presumed for a long time afterward that everything was ordered by number in a newsagent's, like in a Chinese takeaway. I sat for half an hour in a pub before I realized that you had to fetch your own order, then tried the same thing in a tearoom and was told to sit down. 

The tearoom lady called me love. All the shop ladies called me love and most of the men called me mate. I hadn't been here twelve hours and already they loved me. And everyone ate the way I did. This was truly exciting. For years I'd been the despair of my mother because as a left-hander I politely but resolutely declined to eat the American way -- grasping the fork in your left hand to steady the food while cutting, then transferring it to your right hand to lift the food to your mouth. It seemed ridiculously cumbersome, and here suddenly was a whole country that ate the way I did. And people drove on the left! This was paradise. Before the day was half over, I knew that this was where I wanted to be.

Isn't that lovely? It perfectly encapsulates the appeal of the novel and that simultaneous warm feeling of familiarity when you find that, though you've come from far away and know so little, you've found something of yourself as well.

I remember flying into Heathrow all by myself, a scary venture as it was the first time I had traveled anywhere alone. I apprehensively collected my luggage, bought my first Tube ticket and boarded the train. To an American who had never traveled outside the country before, I'm not sure anything was more perplexing than hearing a voice inform me, 'This train is for Cockfosters.'

What the hell was a Cockfoster?! And why was the Underground catering to their transportation needs?

Despite the confused nature of my thoughts, I walked from the Tube station to my new flat utterly content. Everything was new, and yet I felt perfectly at home, like I was coming back to a place I had always known but somehow forgotten. 

Have any of your travels have produced similar sentiments? Have any of you read Bill Bryson's travel memoirs? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

End of Year Book Survey 2012

 

As mentioned in my Classics Club Readathon post, I picked up Anthony Trollope. I didn't get far before having to set it aside for work. Currently I'm investigating nineteenth-century sexuality in literature, so I've been reading some...colorful (for lack of a better word) texts as a result. 

Full confession: I'm starting to feel like a pervert!

Yes, it's all in the name of the research, but reading about a man who essentially sexually abuses the girl he's raised as a daughter yet has no qualms about it (as I've been doing this weekend) does tend to leave a bitter taste in one's mouth. 

And don't even get me started on the looks of inquisitive surprise the librarians give me as they hand over these 'colorful' inter-library loans. Time to cleanse my literary palate.

I thought now would be a good time to reminisce about the wonderful literature I read in 2012. While it's a bit woefully late, here are my responses to the questions posed by Jamie for her annual end of year survey.

Best book you read in 2012?

I Capture the Castle! As soon as I read Dodie Smith's memorable opening line, 'I write this sitting in the kitchen sink,' I was hooked. After devouring it in a matter of hours on New Year's Eve 2011, I wondered how any book could top it. Though I experienced some fantastic new stories throughout the year, no book ever did. Top it, that is. The delightfully quirky characters, the prose that creeps under skin, the charm of the castle in ruins: everything about this book enchanted me. This is an instant favourite I look forward to reading again and again...and again

More after the jump...

Classics Club Readathon

The Classics Club Readathon is here! Unfortunately, I won't be able to dedicate the whole day to reading literary gems, but I'll spend as much time as I can indulging in snippets of genius here and there.

After much indecision and abrupt changing of mind on my part, I've finally decided on The Warden by Anthony Trollope.

Funnily enough, the novel's successor, Barchester Towers, has been sitting on my shelf for far too long. I bought it thinking it wasn't necessary to read the series in chronological order, but some astute reviews on Trollope convinced me otherwise. Once my painful ban on book buying was lifted, The Warden was one of my first purchases. I can't wait to properly dig in, so to speak, and only hope that I like Trollope as much as I hope I will.

I might not update this post again during the readathon and opt instead to focus on the literature. Nevertheless, I'll try to share a few thoughts on twitter. Yet even as I write this, fatigue is quickly setting in, so I best get going.

Happy reading, fellow Classic Club members! I look forward to hearing about your reading choices. So many wonderful classics, so little time....

2012

Before I set forth resolutions for 2013, I'd like to review 2012, what I accomplished and how well I adhered to my resolutions. 

My reading goal was forty texts, for which I was far ahead of schedule until I started my job. I ended up finishing just short of my ambitions, but that's okay. More than anything, I wanted to increase the quality of my reading while broadening my horizons, and I did that. Hurrah!

Here's a more detailed recap of my reading goals:

Read 40 texts. I completed 36. Since I failed to reach fifty percent of my reading goal in 2011 (I blame all that literary criticism -- what a distraction!) and more or less abandoned pleasure reading with the commencement of my job, I'm fairly pleased with this result.

Read more non-fiction. I kicked some major ass here and thoroughly enjoyed myself in the process. I read seven non-fiction books this year, which accounts for nearly twenty percent of my reading. What an improvement. These ranged from author biographies (Bill Bryson's Shakespeare) to essays on reading (Ex Libris by Anne Fadiman). Hopefully this trend continues in 2013.

Read more poetry and drama. I read two books of poetry (Sylvia Plath and Elizabeth Barrett Browning) and two Oscar Wilde plays. Not a bad start on the whole. The good news is I've recently been accumulating some texts that fall under these categories by writers such as John Keats and Richard Brinsley Sheridan, so I'm gearing myself up for continued growth in this area.

Read more 20th century/contemporary fiction. Again, major success! In the past I've been drawn to awful YA fiction when not in the mood for Victorian density. Not to say that there's no merit in this genre -- there is -- but more often than not I'd finish a YA novel wishing I hadn't wasted my time. So, I promised myself I'd seek out higher quality literature for my escapist reads, and I'm happy to say I've experienced few reading regrets this year as a result. Nearly a third of this year's texts are literary 20th century/contemporary publications, and I'm pleased to report I  found some new all-time favourites (e.g, I Capture the Castle; this book is, without question, the bee's knees).

Here's the funny thing: while I'm proud to have pushed myself outside my comfort zone, I feel as though I barely read from the long nineteenth century at all. Nevertheless, the Victorians accounted for nearly one fourth of my reading. This goes to show how much I rely on them. Maybe I'll shift this year's focus back to my beloved era. 

Read from my Classics Club list. I read eight titles from this exhaustive list. I need to quicken the pace.

Read from libraries. Don't buy books. Ha! I was doing quite well with this until I generated an income and decided to reward myself with (what else?) multiple trips to the bookstore. Also, I received gift cards for my birthday; and books you didn't technically buy yourself surely don't count, right?

Despite my hopeless book-buying compulsion, I read nine texts that had been sitting on my shelf for some time. 21 were borrowed, either from friends or the library. Only four were texts I purchased this year. Not too shabby. Of course, this doesn't account for all the books I bought but haven't yet read, but I'd rather not count those at the moment....

Right, that's the books. Now let's move on to general resolutions:

Get published. No, not yet. I'm still working on this one. I did, however, present at my first academic conference this fall and have two more on the horizon. 

Get creative with cooking. Success! I wanted to try various vegetarian recipes this year. Not only did I do that, I managed to convince my resolutely omnivorous family that meat-free dishes can be tasty too. Over the past months I've tried the following:

Chana masala with cream and extra veggies

Sweet potato curry

Goat cheese pasta by Giada de Laurentiis 

Quinoa-stuffed zucchini boats

Mexican quinoa with black beans and cilantro

Roast potatoes (for Christmas dinner, obviously)

Victoria sponge cake

Caramels

Visit a Literary Mecca. No literary pilgrimage for me in 2012. I had to content myself with local mini-breaks, but I'm not complaining. It was lovely to get away for as long as I did, and I can look forward to holidays further from home in 2013. 

Earn money of some sort. Success! Not only did I get a job, I'm finally on the career ladder I want to climb. 

Get in shape. Ha! That's all I have to say on the subject.

I have some photos from 2012 to share, but that will have to wait for another post. How did you fare with your 2012 resolutions?

A Victorian Celebration: Wrapping Up

Despite what the absence of posts related to this summer's Victorian Celebration might suggest, I did actually read for this event. In fact, I was so preoccupied with my nineteenth-century reading that I opted to stick my nose between the pages rather than sit down to write on my silly little blog. 

The Victorian period is my golden age, my belle epoque. So I truly appreciated Allie giving me an excuse to revel in this beloved era. I've read some fantastic literature, some old and some new (to me). A summary of what I got up to over the past several weeks is just ahead. But first...

 London 1888 -- I adore Victorian photography!

And now we return to our regularly scheduled programming.

Lady Windermere's Fan by Oscar Wilde: This play has more gravitas than The Importance of Being Earnest, but I loved what Wilde had to say about the hypocrisy of polite society in late Victorian England.

Lady Audley's Secret by Mary Elizabeth Braddon: My reading provided me with yet another fascinating Lady. How I would like to be a Lady! But to the point...this nineteenth-century mystery is full of murder, deception and madness. I can't wait to read more from this genre.

Sonnets from the Portuguese by Elizabeth Barrett Browning: In a word, stunning! This collection of poems Barrett Browning wrote for her husband, fellow poet Robert Browning, are passionate and poignant. I read some of the letters this literary couple wrote to one another for my MA research, so I'm somewhat familiar with the details of their courtship and marriage. It was fun tracing biographical elements in these sonnets.

The Professor by Charlotte Bronte: I have now read every Bronte novel. Wahoo! This isn't Charlotte's finest work. I struggled through the first chunk of the novel, but its strong second half made the effort worthwhile. Now that I've finished all the Bronte novels, I'll be moving on to biographies and juvenilia. 

What Jane Austen Ate and Charles Dickens Knew by Daniel Pool: Not yet finished, but I've been reading small doses of this intriguing work of non-fiction here and there. Pool's book elucidates all those little details of nineteenth-century life present in Victorian fiction that, over the years, have become enigmatic to the majority of twenty-first-century readers. Some of the information is a refresher course in what I already know and some sections are enlightening. I'm looking forward to discovering what else this text has in store for me.

Increasing my breadth of reading was a New Year's resolution of mine, so I'm proud of the range I managed --even when sticking within the parameters of the Victorian period. Two novels, one play, one collection of poetry and one work of non-fiction. Success! I'll be sharing more about these texts in future posts.

Although the Victorian event has concluded, I won't be straying too far from it in the immediate future. My dad, sister and I will be reading Bleak House together. The truth: I'm a wee bit nervous about it. I'll also be participating in Adam's Austen in August event. Austen + The Victorians = Fantastic Summer!

What have you been reading? Any tips on how best to approach a beast like Bleak House?

Library Loot, Vol. II

Wow, this blog has really fallen by the wayside. In recent posts I've complained (ad nauseum, I'm sure) about a dreaded reading rut that was plaguing my literary pursuits. I'm pleased as punch to report that I am back to my usual reading habits. I'm devouring fiction and non-fiction, classics and contemporary texts alike.

Reading fever is in full swing, to the point that any distraction from my books -- blogging included -- is not particularly welcome. Meanwhile, a stack of finished titles about which I'd like to share some thoughts and insights is quickly growing like Jack's fabled beanstalk.

This summer's resolution: keep up with my blog! Right, moving on...

On Saturday I meandered over to my tiny local library in search of the selection for next month's book club meeting. The library doesn't carry what I went looking for, but that didn't stop me from coming away with a few new titles tucked under my arm.

I Remember Nothing by Nora Ephron

As my mother is settling into middle age, she constantly occasionally complains that she can't remember anything these days. So when I came across Nora Ephron's last book (still so sad that she's passed on), I couldn't resist picking this up for her. She didn't find the joke to be very funny, but I think she'd agree with me when I say that Ephron is indisputably hilarious. Having already begun this short, breezy memoir, I can confidently recommend I Remember Nothing to fellow Ephron fans.

The Little Stranger by Sarah Waters

I've never read Sarah Waters before; in fact, it's only relatively recently that she's been brought to my attention. Hearing some fellow students discuss their research on her work piqued my interest, and The Little Stranger promises to be both literary and terrifyingly Gothic.

Any Sarah Waters fans out there? Is this a good place to start, or should I begin with Fingersmith or Tipping the Velvet?

The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley

This novel is the first in the Flavia de Luce mystery series, which centers on an eleven-year-old detective with a proclivity for the sciences. I've read some great reviews by fellow bloggers, and the publisher's description reminds me greatly of a young, female Sherlock Holmes (can I call her Sherlockina?). My hopes are high that this is as entertaining as I think it will be.

Hopefully, I'll find the time for these texts as I continue to consume nineteenth-century literature for the Victorian Celebration. What have you picked up from your local library? Anything you'd recommend?

Reading Habits

The Shelves of a Charing Cross Road Bookstore

As a reader I'm always eager to hear about how other bibliophiles engage in the act of reading. When people love literature, they quickly fall into a routine in their 'relationship' with books. Here's a post digging deeper into some of those reading habits, inspired by Jillian and Becca.

Do you snack while you read? If so, favorite reading snack:

Anything with sugar! I don't like to eat anything that will steal my focus from the book, so reading edibles are limited to non-messy finger foods that I can mindlessly munch. Candy and biscuits, unfortunately, fit the bill. Cinnamon-flavored sweets are often kept on the nightstand for such purposes, and I'm sure I eat more of them than I realize. Oops.

What is your favorite drink while reading?

I drink more water than anything else -- it's my go-to beverage -- but there's nothing I love more than curling up with an impulsively readable story while sipping on a cup of tea or hot chocolate on a chilly evening. 

Do you tend to mark your books as you read, or does the idea of writing in books horrify you?

I usually highlight the significant passages that speak to me, a star bestowed upon bits I deem to be especially brilliant, but interrupting a narrative with my own words slows things down for me. I'm such an impatient reader! In theory, I don't object to writing in books, I just don't do it myself. 

How do you keep your place while reading a book? Bookmark? Dog-ears? Laying the book flat open?

Dog-ears are a huge no-no in my book (no pun intended). The book is a vessel of brilliance. Respect it. Preserve it well for the next reader...and the reader after that. Laying a book flat open damages the spine, particularly if the text in question is a paperback, so I avoid that as well.

This leaves bookmarks, but I'm especially skilled at losing anything designed to mark one's spot, so I've given up on the institution as a whole. Old receipts, spare bits of paper and sticky notes most frequently find themselves wedged between pages in my library. And sometimes there's nothing to be found when searching for a substitute bookmark, so I make a mental note of the page number and hope I remember once the book is picked up again. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't.

Fiction, non-fiction, or both?

I'm sorry to say I read almost exclusively from the former category. In times past, non-fiction I perused pertained to the fiction I was reading: author biographies, history about my field, criticism. An awareness that in avoiding the non-fiction section of a bookstore I'm missing out on countless literary gems is beginning to creep up on me. I'm slowly discovering the incredible world of non-fiction. It's a slow journey, but an enjoyable one nonetheless. 

Are you a person who tends to read to the end of a chapter, or can you stop anywhere?

Breaking at the end of a chapter is my decided preference. Since we all know chapters often conclude in a way that urges one to read on, this doesn't always happen. I like to pick up a book whenever a spare moment presents itself: at a bus stop, while waiting at a doctor's office, on the train, etc., etc. The downside of this practice is that I'm compelled to stop in the middle of chapters whether I want to or not.

Are you the type of person to throw a book across the room or on the floor if the author irritates you?

Guilty! It only happened on one occasion, but still. I was wading through a trilogy I didn't like all that much yet wanted to see through to the end. When the only likable character was permanently turned into a tree at the climax, I promptly dissolved into tears and chucked the book to the other side of my bed. What a waste of time.

If you come across an unfamiliar word, do you stop and look it up right away?

No. [Hangs head in shame.] I don't have much tolerance for anything that interrupts the flow of the narrative. I've attempted this a few times and inevitably abandon the practice after a few chapters.

What I do instead: try to glean a vague definition of the word based on its usage and pretend this as ascertaining the meaning from the dictionary. This sometimes results in dropping a word into conversation incorrectly and looking like an ignorant fool. It's such an Anne Shirley thing to do! Remember the time she tells Diana, 'I think I've been rendered unconscious'? Yeah, it goes something like that.

What are you currently reading?

I just finished up The Road to Coorain by Jill Ker Conway -- it rocked my world! At the moment, I'm in the middle of Lady Windermere's Fan (Oscar Wilde) and What Jane Austen Ate and Charles Dickens Knew (Daniel Pool). Both are fantastic reads so far!

What is the last book you bought?

 This is London and This is Paris by Miroslav Sasek. They're part of a series of fabulous travel/picture books for children that I gave to a dear friend for her baby shower. These books make great gifts for expectant parents and inquisitive children.

Are you the type of person that reads one book at a time, or can you read more than one?

Whoever said multi-tasking is an inherently female ability was lying through their teeth! I like to focus on one thing at a time, and this philosophy extends to literature. Sometimes I read two books simultaneously, particularly if they're generically different, but for the most part I stick to one text.

Do you have a favorite time/place to read?

I love to read somewhere with ample cushioning, like the couch or my bed, wrapped up in blankets. Reading at night when everything is quiet allows me to immerse myself in a story free from external distractions. 

When I try to read early in the morning I fall asleep 99.9% of the time, unless I've stayed up all night to finish a book I simply couldn't put down. Does this happen to anybody else?

Do you prefer series books or stand alones?

Stand alone books, for sure. Investing in a series is a gamble. Sometimes the later installments fail to maintain the quality of their predecessors. Nothing is more disappointing that arriving at the end of a lengthy series only to conclude it would have been better next to begin (see above). Obviously there are series I count as favorites, but I think twice before buying a book I know to be the first of four volumes.

Is there a specific book or author you find yourself recommending over and over?

The Tenant of Wildfell and Cranford are classics I recommend again and again. In the case of the former, the enduring popularity of Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre has led to the unfortunate neglect of 'The Other Bronte' Anne. No doubt about it, her sisters are deservedly remembered for their fantastic contributions to literature. But Anne holds her own splendidly, thank you very much.

I also recommend P.G. Wodehouse all. the. time. The fact that friends thank me for introducing them to his delightfully droll fiction only encourages me repeat this suggestion.

How do you organize your books?

I have a very specific breakdown for the organization of classics. Titles are first displayed alphabetically by publisher, then format (leatherbound down to paperback), alphabetically by author and alphabetically by title. Does that make sense? This system makes my shelves look fantastic! I'll have to post pictures. (I don't exhibit the slightest symptom of OCD. How dare you even suggest it!)

This concludes the peek into my literary quirks. What are your reading habits? I'd love to hear!

Top Ten Tuesday: Books I'd Love to See on the Big Screen

This week the lovelies at The Broke and the Bookish have encouraged us to share our picks for any previous Top Ten post, and it was such fun mulling this topic over. Books make the best movies. Just ask anyone in Hollywood (all their good ideas come from literature). Yes, the book is always better than the film. Yes, watching a beloved novel butchered on the big screen is like a dagger to the heart. 

But when an adaptation gets it right...

Oh the joy! The thrill of seeing characters whom you love and identify with brought to life is...well, it's like coming home. I gladly admit to crying during the opening credits of an adaptation. I sat there in the darkened cinema with a bit of apprehension (adaptations are always a bit of a gamble), but when that treasured author's name flashed across the screen I felt the tears well up. I knew these characters and this world so well, had enjoyed them on the page so often, and now here they all were before my eyes. 

Sometimes an adaptation portrays things just as I had imagined them, and it feels as though the filmmakers had plucked my thoughts from my brain and plastered it onto the screen. Sometimes an adaptation challenges me to consider a novel in a way I never had before And sometimes, it is pure magic.

So, without further ado, here are ten novels I hope to see translated to film.

Evelina by Frances Burney

 Frances Burney

by Edward Francisco Burney

People go nuts for Jane Austen adaptations/biopics/etc. -- and for good reason. Why then, do filmmakers ignore the novels of Fanny Burney, a writer whom many identify as a key influence on Austen? This story, about a young girl's entrance into London society after a rural upbringing, is one that would instantly appeal to period film fanatics. It has humor and a bit of romance. The settings and costumes would be sumptuous onscreen: ballgowns, parties, London streets, country estates. And the wigs! I get giddy just thinking about it.

And we thought 80s hair was over the top

Princess Academy by Shannon Hale

This Newbery Honor-winning novel about a community of young girls who are groomed and trained to compete for the Prince's hand in marriage completely surprised me. I expected a run-of-the-mill fairy tale and was ecstatic to find instead a story that encourages education and independence in young women. Wouldn't it be a wonderful film for impressionable young girls? Hollywood is slowly moving away from the standard damsel-in-distress heroine presented to children, but more can be done in this arena. Hale's charming text offers a fantastic blueprint for filmmakers to follow.

The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath

Plath's autobiographical novel wouldn't be easy to watch on the big screen. Esther Greenwood's devastating struggle with depression is raw, painful and vividly depicted. But an adaptation, if done well, would provide some searing performances that would knock a viewer's socks off. Stigma around mental illness still persists in contemporary society, and nobody conveys the experience better than Sylvia Plath.

Agnes Grey by Anne Bronte

Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights have been adapted to a visual format ad nauseum, but nobody seems to care to share Anne's novels with a larger audience. Such a pity! This simple yet sweet tale of a Victorian governess's experiences could make a wonderful film. Its characters are memorable, and since it's a relatively short novel narrative butchering could be kept to a minimum. Nothing is worse than seeing a favorite text chopped to bits before your eyes!

 The author, by her sister Charlotte

The Romance of the Forest by Ann Radcliffe

All right, this is a tricky one. Conventions of Gothic fiction definitely wouldn't appeal to the average moviegoer. Everything is melodramatic, over the top and fainting fits abound. But this is precisely what I would love to see onscreen. If filmmakers embraced the cheesiness and theatricality of Radcliffe's novel, the results could be hilarious. Can't the BBC help us out with this one?

Pigs Have Wings by P.G. Wodehouse

I've said it before, and I'll say it again. P.G. Wodehouse cures all ills. I love him. While Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie brought the Jeeves novels to life, I'm dying to see some Blandings Castle stories given the same honor. Imagine a farcical, so-funny-your-sides-hurt Downton Abbey. That's what you get with Wodehouse. Who isn't on board with that? In Pigs Have Wings two country gentleman are at war, each bound and determined that their Berkshire sow will reign supreme at the Shropshire Agricultural Show. A diet supplement called Slimmo threatens to make its way into the feeding trough. Pigs are lost and found (pignapped?). Lovers quarrel. Lovers reunite. I've enjoyed every Wodehouse novel I've thus far had the pleasure to read, but this is a highlight!

(I posted a hilarious excerpt from a P.G. Wodehouse novel here. Have a peek if you're curious about this underrated author!)

 A Berkshire pig like unto the Empress of Blandings

Cornell University Library

The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova

This novel is included on the list precisely because I didn't love it. I enjoyed it. Always a sucker for literary vampires (Dracula rules!), I thought Kostova's historical approach -- her vampire is Vlad the Impaler, not just inspired by the legends surrounding this figure -- was original and intriguing. Unfortunately, Kostova's execution was a disappointment. Whole chunks of the novel dragged. A movie could fix that. By taking the author's fascinating ideas and eliminating the weaknesses with pacing, the result might be a film that surpasses the quality of its source material.

Frederica by Georgette Heyer

Georgette Heyer is the author I turn to when I crave the splendour of Regency England but am (temporarily) bored with Lizzy, Emma, Elinor and Marianne. I would love to see filmmakers provide Austen fans with some adaptations of Heyer texts instead of the umpteenth version of Pride and Prejudice. Heyer narratives are familiar yet fresh. The humour and heart in Frederica could make a charming film.

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman

Inspired by Kipling's The Jungle Book, this Newbery winner centers around a boy who is raised by the supernatural residents of a cemetery after the tragic death of his human, living family. It provides readers with both depth and escapism, and a skilfully adapted movie would offer viewers the same. Can you imagine what a good cinematographer could do with the Gothic cemetery setting? An adaptation is reportedly in the works. I just hope it does the book justice!

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows

One of the most enchanting novels I've read in years, I could immediately picture the charming characters depicted by Shaffer and Barrows. When I closed its pages, they had become dear friends. At turns hilarious and heartbreaking, the epistolary novel provides a fresh perspective on the German occupation of the Channel Islands during World War II. The characters are not defined by the war but by the sense of community they share with one another and the literature that solaces them.

Even as I was absorbed by the narrative, I frequently paused to think what a wonderful movie this could be. Imagine my elation, then, when I discovered that Kenneth Branagh will be directing an adaptation, for which filming is scheduled to begin later this year. Most of the casting has yet to be determined, but Kate Winslet has signed on to play the protagonist. I must admit to harboring high hopes for this one!

Are there any books you would like to see adapted for the big screen, or do you prefer for your favorite texts to remain untarnished? Have you ever seen a film translation outshine its source material? I would love to hear!