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.

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.

Library Loot

The recently established library in my small town is microscopic. Case in point: any title not aimed at children is placed in one of two sections, fiction and non-fiction. That's how little material these humble shelves hold. It wasn't until I discovered they miraculously had a copy of The Name of The Rose, and just in time for my recent readathon, that I bothered obtaining a card. 

As a compulsive book buyer, I generally prefer to purchase my books. The temporary non-existence of my book budget has compelled me to seek new titles in frugal ways. Though books aren't as plentiful as I would like them to be, I was surprised at how many of the library's titles called to me. I entered intending to get a card, check out the Eco novel and leave.

Somehow I left with an additional six titles. Whoops. I'm not sure how it happened. The chance of completing these texts before their impending due date is as probable as the library suddenly ballooning overnight. But it's nice to have options. I've discovered there's a great deal of satisfaction in walking away from a library, a goldmine of literature tucked under my arm, with the knowledge that I didn't pay for them! Free books for everybody!

Until the inevitable late fines accrue. Oh, late fees, I wish I knew how to quit you.

So, in this addition to the Library Loot event hosted by Claire and Marg, here are the treasures I've borrowed this week.

Sylvester by Georgette Heyer

After posting a request for Georgette Heyer recomendations, I shrieked with delight when I found two of her novels on the shelf. (But only on the inside. I wouldn't wish to disturb other book fiends.) The dear friend who kindly gave me Frederica as a gift also had Sylvester, or The Wicked Uncle highly recommended to her, and it's also a favourite of Claire's (otherwise known as The Captive Reader). I can't wait to dig into this one!

Sonnets from the Portuguese by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

I studied some Barrett Browning for my dissertation and came to the conclusion that she's currently underrated. It seems like people feel the need to take sides and camp with Team Elizabeth or Team Robert. Can't we just acknowledge that both are wonderful in their own unique way?

Poetry has been calling to me as of late, and this volume is on my Classics Club list. Many birds, one stone.

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

Although this one was frequently requested when I worked at the bookstore, but I never paid it much heed apart from taking note of the unusual title. Whenever a customer said they were looking for a book with a strange title, something about Guernsey or potatoes, I knew exactly to what they were referring.

Since my dear friend said it reminded her of me I've been dying to read it. And I love epistolary narratives. I don't care how many people diss them!

The Finer Points of Sausage Dogs by Alexander McCall Smith

Speaking of unusual titles, this novel surely wins the prize for most fabulous title of the century. At the very least it should be nominated. Though I've heard some enthusiastic McCall Smith recommendations, I would be lying if I said that's why I picked this little book off the shelves. This selection is entirely based on the awesome title and the fact that there's a cute little dog on the cover. I can never resist a cute dog. Seriously, never.

Under the Black Flag: The Romance and the Reality of Life Among the Pirates by David Cordingly

In the past few months I've come across some pirate documentaries on The History Channel that have been vastly entertaining and educational. When I learned that while pirate law forbade the presence of women on the ship there were still famous female pirates, my curiosity increased ten fold. Girl power?

Hopefully I'll be able to pick more fascinating fun facts from this work of non-fiction.

Lost in Austen: Create Your Own Jane Austen Adventure by Emma Campbell Webster

This specimen of Jane Austen kitsch looked too hilarious to pass up. I have yet to fully look into it, but merely flipping through has led me to some statements that are comical in their absurdity: 'Add "Insufficient Knowledge of Embroidery" to your list of Failings. This has seriously compromised your chances of attracting a rich husband.'

Oh, dear. Is this why I'm single? Should I stick to my sampler and forget the books?

As you see I am spoiled for choice. What are you reading this week?

Keep Calm and...?

I am definitely a fan of the old adage 'Keep Calm and Carry On.'  Fantastic advice!  The perfect motto for a postgraduate student!  You might have noticed its presence on my sidebar.  However, I think I prefer this hilarious alternative version:

Now I am wondering why I was ever content to simply carry on when I should have been finding myself a Mr. Darcy.  Tut, tut. 

Mr. Darcy or Mr. Wet Shirt?

It occurred to me after my post on Mr. Darcy kitsch that not everyone may be familiar with the phenomenon of The Wet Shirt.  Though...I'm not sure how this could be.  Isn't this something they teach in schools worldwide?  

In my effort to educate the masses I am including clips of The Wet Shirt from the classic Colin Firth Pride and Prejudice as well as its parody from Lost in Austen (which appears at the bottom of the post).

I particularly love the response to The Wet Shirt in the latter scene:

'I'm having a bit of a strange postmodern moment here.'

'Is that agreeable?'

'Oh, yes, yes.'

I hope you find it agreeable as well!

P.S. Do you know, I've actually visited the estate that stars as Pemberley in Lost in Austen.  I'll have to share more about that soon.

Jane Austen Kitsch

I love literary kitsch.  It cracks me up, and sometimes I just have to pass it along.  (Refer to the literary kitsch label if you'd like to see more.)  Jane Austen's material has perhaps become the epitome of this kitsch, and I feel it got some oomph from one particular moment in the 1995 BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice.  Every Austenite knows to what I am referring.  Remember this?

Colin Firth in a wet shirt.  Period-film fanatics the world over immediately fell into fainting fits and swoons over this little scene that does not appear in the book.  There is a possibility I was one of them; I can't say.  It was later brilliantly parodied in Lost in Austen, a mini-series in which one reader realizes every Austenite's fantasy: she magically finds herself within the world of the novel and falls in love with Mr. Darcy.  Duh.

After some words of love and affection are exchanged, the heroine of said programme asks Darcy to do something for her.  This is what follows:

Do you see how The Wet Shirt has been immortalized?  Imagine the laughter that ensued, then, as I opened this gift from Ana, courtesy of the Jane Austen's House Museum gift shop:

Wicked, am I right?  In hindsight, I should have purchased one for every Mr. Darcy admirer I know -- and I know a lot.  I might be one of them; I cant say.

Snape, Snape, Severus Snape

Every self-respecting Harry Potter fan is fully aware that Professor Severus Snape is a paragon of awesomeness.  The fact that I am constantly finding hilarious bits of media that reinforce just how beloved this creation of J.K. Rowling is merely confirms my opinion.  I decided to share a few Snape bits and pieces in the off chance that you are unfamiliar with them.

Have you seen Snape's Diary from Potter Puppet Pals?

It is full of doom and gloom and is possibly the funniest thing I've seen all year.  I keep quoting lines from this cyber-gem with friends and family.  A favourite of mine: 'I asked her to dance.  She asked me to die.'

If you haven't already seen the Snape version of 'I'm Too Sexy' I highly suggest you do yourself a favour and watch it now.

Finally, I've got a little something for those of you who tweet: the Twitter feed of Professor Snape.  An anonymous someone posts laugh-out-loud blurbs as Snape.  Examples include 'Neville would have done it in four books' and 'Things people should not do: Talk to Lupin during his "time of the month."'  They always have me in stitches.

Do you know of others that I'm missing?  Please, do share!

P.S.  This isn't technically Snape related, but actor Benedict Cumberbatch of Sherlock fame does an impression of Alan Rickman that is pretty spot on.  I'm providing not just one but two Youtube links featuring his impersonation in action.

Charles Dickens Action Figure

Not to long ago I wrote a post highlighting a faux commercial for Charlotte, Emily and Anne power dolls.  It was a source of great amusement among the Victorian students but nothing more than a joke.

Imagine my surprise then when I saw this in the Charles Dickens Museum gift shop:

There it was, a Charles Dickens action figure.  In the flesh.  Or in the plastic package?

I love that the quill pen and removable hat are marketed as its superb selling features.  I had a good laugh over it, but the truth is this: if I had children this is most likely the kind of toy to which I would subject them.  I wonder if there are other authors available...

Brontë Sisters, Power Up!

Since I've got Charlotte, Emily and Anne on my mind...

The following youtube video was introduced to us by the university's Brontë tutor after a discussion about Brontë kitsch.  It is hilarious!  I find myself going back to it again and again whenever I need a giggle.  There's not much else I can say about it apart from a reiteration that it is genius, pure genius. 

Does anyone know where I can find a Brontësaurus?

Stuffy Victorians

Victorians have a reputation for being stuffy and repressed.  As a true fanatic of the time period (I am, after all, specializing in them for my MA) I feel like they're getting a bad rap.  They're so misunderstood.  Sometimes it's a matter of reading between the lines; catching the subtext in a seemingly insignificant sentence of a novel.  Other times the innuendoes fly at you with a flashing neon sign.  Just the other evening I was reading from an 1883 novel by Wilkie Collins before bedtime when I came across this gem:

'Make love -- hot love to her, doctor!'

Obviously, I'm aware that the term 'make love' at this time period alluded to emotional and verbal (not physical) expressions of affection.  But come on!  Show me a contemporary reader who can encounter that line without at least laughing on the inside, and I will eat my head!  To prove my point I'll conclude this post with a hilarious Kate Beaton comic featuring Victoria and Albert.

See more Hark, a Vagrant! comics here

Dude Watchin’ with the Brontës

There are several factors that compelled me to do a Master’s at this university.  I’m not gonna lie, the fact that there is a class offered on the Brontës was somewhere near the top of my ‘pro’ list.  Charlotte, Emily and Anne are all included in my exclusive list of favorite authors.  Naturally, I had high expectations for this class.  While waiting outside the tutor’s office for my first seminar, I saw this comic by Kate Beaton (explore her website – it’s great!) taped to her door: 

I had a hunch that I wasn't going to be disappointed with my Brontë experience.  I was right. This comic was merely an omen of good things to come.