Someone Like You is a compilation of short stories aimed at adults. I’m not quite sure why it’s called Someone Like You, as there’s nothing romantic about them at all – although I think I connect the title with the song by Adele, which doesn’t mean that it should necessarily have anything romantic about it.
In fact, the reverse is the case. These stories all have really horrible twists and subtexts, and they almost make you keep reading even though you really don’t want to know what happens next.
I enjoyed reading the short stories because they weren’t connected with each other (except for the general theme of awfulness) and it was therefore easy to pick up and read a story at a time. However, the one thing I would say is that there were so many stories – and some of them did seem a little repetitive – that by the time I was about 3/4 of the way through I just wanted to have finished them already. That might have had something to do with the fact that I had just got my reading list for Uni and just wanted to start reading them, so I really can’t blame Dahl for that.
Indeed, I can’t really fault his writing. Although he uses a different style to the one he employs in his children’s stories, you can still tell that it’s his voice. The names are often equally amusing as some of his children’s book characters, and the imagination put into each story is very impressive. There were so many stories – and this is only one of a series of collections – and they all had an element which made you cringe in horror or disgust, which really makes the reader admire the talent of the author.
One that sticks in my mind is when a man arrives home (he lives in India) to find his friend with a venomous snake curled up on his stomach under the bed sheets. They spend the story devising ways to remove it without awaking it and letting it bite the friend. The imagery used just made me envision this snake, and I couldn’t help cringing at the thought because it was so horrible! Another was about a man who bet another man his daughter’s hand in marriage, and this second man cheated on the bet. It ended with the first man discovering it, and ended there so we never found out what happened to the daughter!
In fact, this happened a lot in these stories: they deliberately ended just before the story ought to end so that we never found out what happened. It was a very effective ploy, and keeps the stories in your mind much longer than they normally would.
Thursday 28 June 2012
Thursday 14 June 2012
The Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald
I just finished reading this a couple of days ago, and I really enjoyed it. I don’t know why, but before I bought the book, I hadn’t a clue what it was about. I thought the title meant some kind of big horse race. Don’t even ask me why. I suppose it’s like the Grand National (biggest horse race in Britain)…? But when I realised that it was about New York in the 1920s, I knew I had to read it.
The 20s is my favourite period. I love the fashion, the architecture, the literature, the art, the music, the BYTs and the party atmosphere. I love films about the 20s, because it really comes alive for me. Have you seen Midnight in Paris? I saw it the other day, and I loved it. That night I dreamt that the same thing happened to me! Seriously, one of the best dreams ever.
So The Great Gatsby was inevitably going to be something I enjoyed. And I really did. As I’ve said a lot recently, I loved the writing style. It was very light (if that makes sense) and vivid. The descriptions of Gatsby’s parties were so magical and fairy-like that they were enchanting. Then the profound passages scattered about made you think about the wider scope of things, about humanity and time and all that deep stuff. And there I have just cheapened it.
The characters were also interesting. I liked Nick as a narrator, and although I used to think it strange that the narrator (if it was written in first person) wasn’t the main character, I’ve read enough now to have got used to it. I didn’t feel the need to know about his life. Obviously it wasn’t that I didn’t care, but it was written in a way that makes us accept that we don’t need to focus on him. That said, there were some scenes in which Nick wasn’t actually there, and couldn’t have known what happened. There was a scene between Mr Wilkes after his wife’s death and his neighbour, in which Nick was nowhere near, and yet full dialogue was given with no explanation as to how Nick knows this. I suppose we’re just supposed to accept it, but it did stand out a bit.
I couldn’t tell whether we were supposed to like Daisy or not. I personally didn’t. As soon as she started going off with Gatsby, I had a feeling that it wasn’t going to last. She struck me as a coward who would bend to her husband’s will. I didn’t think she could ever leave him because she was too frightened of what society would think, or of hurting him, or of what life with Gatsby would be like. I get it. It’s a big risk: especially since she hadn’t seen Gatsby in five years, but you would have thought that she’d make up her mind quickly so as not to lead either man on.
And then, of course, there’s Gatsby. Gatsby was certainly an enigma, wasn’t he? (I realise that if you haven’t read this book, things might not be making much sense to you! Sorry!) I quite liked him. There was something naive and innocent about him – especially when it came to Daisy. He was so eager to see her again, and then so horribly embarrassed, and then absolutely head over heels in love with her that it was really quite sweet. Maybe that’s why I disliked Daisy because she wouldn’t say whether she chose him over her husband. I quite liked not knowing about his past. You didn’t feel like you needed to know. He seems so in the moment that anything he’s done before seems fairly irrelevant. So even though we do find out bits about him, I didn’t mind not knowing everything.
But then, the end. The end. THAT was not expected. Ok, I’m not going to say what happens, in case you want to read the book and hate being spoiled (I hate being spoiled too, so I feel your pain). I really think that if you’re going to read it you can’t known what happens at the end because it’ll spoil the rest of it. If you really want to know, say so in the comments and I’ll tell you there! But I will say that BLIMEY I DID NOT EXPECT THAT! Anyone else who’s read it feel the same? I wasn’t sad, though. Maybe I didn’t get so attached to that particular character as I thought.
Anyway, a film version of this is coming out on Christmas Day (Christmas Day? Why?), starring Leonardo Di Caprio as Gatsby, Carey Mulligan as Daisy (love Carey Mulligan) and Toby Maguire as Nick. Here’s the trailer:
I'm so going to see it!
The 20s is my favourite period. I love the fashion, the architecture, the literature, the art, the music, the BYTs and the party atmosphere. I love films about the 20s, because it really comes alive for me. Have you seen Midnight in Paris? I saw it the other day, and I loved it. That night I dreamt that the same thing happened to me! Seriously, one of the best dreams ever.
So The Great Gatsby was inevitably going to be something I enjoyed. And I really did. As I’ve said a lot recently, I loved the writing style. It was very light (if that makes sense) and vivid. The descriptions of Gatsby’s parties were so magical and fairy-like that they were enchanting. Then the profound passages scattered about made you think about the wider scope of things, about humanity and time and all that deep stuff. And there I have just cheapened it.
The characters were also interesting. I liked Nick as a narrator, and although I used to think it strange that the narrator (if it was written in first person) wasn’t the main character, I’ve read enough now to have got used to it. I didn’t feel the need to know about his life. Obviously it wasn’t that I didn’t care, but it was written in a way that makes us accept that we don’t need to focus on him. That said, there were some scenes in which Nick wasn’t actually there, and couldn’t have known what happened. There was a scene between Mr Wilkes after his wife’s death and his neighbour, in which Nick was nowhere near, and yet full dialogue was given with no explanation as to how Nick knows this. I suppose we’re just supposed to accept it, but it did stand out a bit.
I couldn’t tell whether we were supposed to like Daisy or not. I personally didn’t. As soon as she started going off with Gatsby, I had a feeling that it wasn’t going to last. She struck me as a coward who would bend to her husband’s will. I didn’t think she could ever leave him because she was too frightened of what society would think, or of hurting him, or of what life with Gatsby would be like. I get it. It’s a big risk: especially since she hadn’t seen Gatsby in five years, but you would have thought that she’d make up her mind quickly so as not to lead either man on.
And then, of course, there’s Gatsby. Gatsby was certainly an enigma, wasn’t he? (I realise that if you haven’t read this book, things might not be making much sense to you! Sorry!) I quite liked him. There was something naive and innocent about him – especially when it came to Daisy. He was so eager to see her again, and then so horribly embarrassed, and then absolutely head over heels in love with her that it was really quite sweet. Maybe that’s why I disliked Daisy because she wouldn’t say whether she chose him over her husband. I quite liked not knowing about his past. You didn’t feel like you needed to know. He seems so in the moment that anything he’s done before seems fairly irrelevant. So even though we do find out bits about him, I didn’t mind not knowing everything.
But then, the end. The end. THAT was not expected. Ok, I’m not going to say what happens, in case you want to read the book and hate being spoiled (I hate being spoiled too, so I feel your pain). I really think that if you’re going to read it you can’t known what happens at the end because it’ll spoil the rest of it. If you really want to know, say so in the comments and I’ll tell you there! But I will say that BLIMEY I DID NOT EXPECT THAT! Anyone else who’s read it feel the same? I wasn’t sad, though. Maybe I didn’t get so attached to that particular character as I thought.
Anyway, a film version of this is coming out on Christmas Day (Christmas Day? Why?), starring Leonardo Di Caprio as Gatsby, Carey Mulligan as Daisy (love Carey Mulligan) and Toby Maguire as Nick. Here’s the trailer:
I'm so going to see it!
The Mitford Girls - Mary S. Lovell
I’ve been doing a lot of book reviews recently. It’s quite ironic that I’ve been doing more since I finished all my modules than I did when I was actually supposed to be reading a book a week.
The book I have just finished I actually started last summer – just before I went back to Uni. As term started and I had more and more things to do I had to stop reading it, and I just picked it up again a couple of weeks ago. It’s a biography of the Mitford Sisters: Nancy, Pam, Diana, Unity, Decca and Debo. I don’t know if you’ve heard of them – they were very famous at the time, especially between 1930 and 1950 – but quite a few of them wrote novels, so you may have read them.
In case you don’t know who they are, here’s a brief summary:
1. Nancy Mitford
Nancy was the oldest and although she had a disastrous love life, she had an immensely successful career. She wrote a large number of books including The Pursuit of Love, Love in a Cold Climate and The Blessing, as well as various biographies.
2. Pamela Mitford
Pam (nicknamed The Woman, for some reason) was perhaps the least well-known Mitford, and lived a very quiet life.
3. Diana Mitford
Diana was officially named Britain’s Most Hated Woman during the Second World War because she and her husband Oswald Mosely were friends with Adolf Hitler. They were also Fascists, like Hitler, and this made the British public scared for the safety of their democracy. She was imprisoned in horrific conditions for three years, forbidden to see her children or family.
4. Unity Mitford
Unity was as much a Fascist as Diana, and she was enamoured by Hitler. She lived in Germany for a good few years and made very good friends with him. However, she really didn’t want there to be a war between England and Germany, and when war was declared in 1939 she tried to kill herself by shooting herself in the head. She did not succeed and was permanently brain-damaged, resulting in her premature death.
5. Jessica Mitford
Jessica (more commonly known as Decca) liked to call herself the Black Sheep of the family, because she was staunchly Communist and ran away from home when she was a teenager to fight in the Spanish Civil War. She married her cousin Esmond and the two moved to America, but he died in WWII. She was very active within the American Communist party, and later the Civil Rights movement, and later in her life she wrote a series of controversial non-fiction books including The America Way of Death. She wrote an autobiography called Hons and Rebels which is also very famous.
6. Deborah Mitford
Debo was the youngest of the sisters and was the one who tried hardest to keep the peace between the sisters throughout the years. They were a very argumentative group, and she was one of the few who tried to maintain happiness. She married the Duke of Devonshire and was instrumental in resurrecting Chatsworth House, one of the most renowned houses in the country, and she still lives there now.
The Mitford Girls is a biography of them all, and is absolutely fascinating. I’d read some books by Nancy before, and I’d heard of Decca because she’s JK Rowling’s idol, and JK Rowling’s my idol, so I know way too much about her.
The biographer Mary Lovell has written it incredibly well, and manages to flow between the narratives of all the sisters impeccably. You can hardly tell where one story ends and the next one starts, it’s that deft. She has evidently thoroughly researched it, and all the extracts from letters make it really enjoyable to read. It doesn’t feel like a biography or a non-fiction book: it feels like a story. Even though there are a lot of politics discussed between the 30s and 40s which it would help a little to know about beforehand, it really doesn’t detract from the understanding.
I feel like I’ve learnt a lot from reading it, and although I don’t read biographies very often and thought this would be fairly challenging, I felt as though I breezed through it. If you have any interest in any one of these women or the period of time they inhabited, then I highly recommend reading this book!
The book I have just finished I actually started last summer – just before I went back to Uni. As term started and I had more and more things to do I had to stop reading it, and I just picked it up again a couple of weeks ago. It’s a biography of the Mitford Sisters: Nancy, Pam, Diana, Unity, Decca and Debo. I don’t know if you’ve heard of them – they were very famous at the time, especially between 1930 and 1950 – but quite a few of them wrote novels, so you may have read them.
In case you don’t know who they are, here’s a brief summary:
1. Nancy Mitford
2. Pamela Mitford
3. Diana Mitford
4. Unity Mitford
5. Jessica Mitford
6. Deborah Mitford
The Mitford Girls is a biography of them all, and is absolutely fascinating. I’d read some books by Nancy before, and I’d heard of Decca because she’s JK Rowling’s idol, and JK Rowling’s my idol, so I know way too much about her.
The biographer Mary Lovell has written it incredibly well, and manages to flow between the narratives of all the sisters impeccably. You can hardly tell where one story ends and the next one starts, it’s that deft. She has evidently thoroughly researched it, and all the extracts from letters make it really enjoyable to read. It doesn’t feel like a biography or a non-fiction book: it feels like a story. Even though there are a lot of politics discussed between the 30s and 40s which it would help a little to know about beforehand, it really doesn’t detract from the understanding.
I feel like I’ve learnt a lot from reading it, and although I don’t read biographies very often and thought this would be fairly challenging, I felt as though I breezed through it. If you have any interest in any one of these women or the period of time they inhabited, then I highly recommend reading this book!
Thursday 24 May 2012
The Daydreamer - Ian McEwan
Well, I honestly didn’t think I would have finished it this quickly! Ok, it was only 144 pages, but I read it in less than two days! Where was this speed for the entirety of this year? Evidently, my reading material has not reached the perfection that was The Daydreamer.
Seriously, I LOVED this book. It’s definitely going on my list of favourite books. McEwan wrote in the Introduction to the book that, although the target audience was really adults, he wanted to write it so that children would enjoy it too. What resulted was a piece of writing that I can only dream of writing like. It balanced the playfulness and innocence of childhood against more serious themes, like death and growing up: not patronising the children, and yet engaging them with his imaginative narrative.
I love children’s books. Which is probably why I enjoyed this so much. But McEwan asked in his introduction whether we actually like reading them now, or if we just like our memories of reading them. He said:
However, if you’ve been following this blog in any way, shape or form, you will probably have become aware that I have just a tiny little thing for Harry Potter. That is generally acknowledged as children’s literature (whether or not this is justified is for another time), and I don’t just love the memory of that. I read Philosopher’s Stone over Christmas, and I was just as enchanted as I was when I was six. Does this make me a lesser reader because I enjoy simple things? Well, I’m sure SOME idiots – those who still think that writing for children is for incompetent authors (see my furious blog post detailing a similar situation, in which I screeched like a Banshee) – do think this. But I think it just show’s we’re more in tune with our inner child: the child that never leaves us, and the child which, I think, is vital for writers of any kind.
Anyway. Back to The Daydreamer.
The book is compiled of a series of short stories all centering around one young boy, Peter, who likes to daydream. Each story is fairly unrelated, except they all have the same characters, and they’re seemingly quite simple. I think this is partly why they could appeal to children, because they’re like short bursts of energy, and you don’t need to dwell long on them. But for an adult, it’s interesting to map the subtle themes that flow through them all, noticing the character development, and revelling in the boundless imagination of the young boy.
Indeed, his imagination is truly admirable, and McEwan writes it in a way that the transition from reality into the dreamworld is so beautifully subtle, that you don’t always notice it straight away. You don’t always know what’s real and what’s not until the end of that particular story, and that’s what makes it so intriguing. Especially when he leaves the endings ambiguous, and lets you decide what happens.
I just wish I;d read this when I was writing my children’s story for my Creative Writing assignment. It dealt with dream and reality, and I worked for so long trying to capture the passage between the two. In the end, I was inspired by Alice Through the Looking-Glass, and had my main character pass through a mirror. Actually, in my Critical Commentary, I said that whilst writing this I was bearing in mind Lacan’s Mirror Stage theory, in which a baby sees themself in a mirror, and for the first time identifies itself. In this transition, they are coming in contact with their true self, an invisible part that only they can see. In reality, I only thought of that afterwards, but it made me sound clever…
I just want to write quickly about the end of this book. It was so poignant and at the same time optimistic (if that’s possible). Peter realises that he can’t always be a child, and that one day he will have to join the adults’ table, and be concerned with work and money and news. He’s standing on a beach, halfway between a group of children playing in the sea, and a group of adults talking. I’m just going to quote it, because nothing I can say could possibly do it justice. I’ll just say that I thought it was utter perfection:
Seriously, I LOVED this book. It’s definitely going on my list of favourite books. McEwan wrote in the Introduction to the book that, although the target audience was really adults, he wanted to write it so that children would enjoy it too. What resulted was a piece of writing that I can only dream of writing like. It balanced the playfulness and innocence of childhood against more serious themes, like death and growing up: not patronising the children, and yet engaging them with his imaginative narrative.
I love children’s books. Which is probably why I enjoyed this so much. But McEwan asked in his introduction whether we actually like reading them now, or if we just like our memories of reading them. He said:
Do adults really like children’s literature? I’ve always thought the enthusiasm was a little overstated, even desperate. ‘Swallows and Amazons? Beatrix Potter? Marvellous books!’ Do we really mean it, do we really enjoy them, or are we speaking up for, and keeping the lines open to, our lost, nearly forgotten selves? When was the last time you curled up alone with The Swiss Family Robinson?And he does have a point. Few of the books I loved as a child I have read recently. He goes on to say it’s what we remember about our experiences reading them that makes us think we still love them.
However, if you’ve been following this blog in any way, shape or form, you will probably have become aware that I have just a tiny little thing for Harry Potter. That is generally acknowledged as children’s literature (whether or not this is justified is for another time), and I don’t just love the memory of that. I read Philosopher’s Stone over Christmas, and I was just as enchanted as I was when I was six. Does this make me a lesser reader because I enjoy simple things? Well, I’m sure SOME idiots – those who still think that writing for children is for incompetent authors (see my furious blog post detailing a similar situation, in which I screeched like a Banshee) – do think this. But I think it just show’s we’re more in tune with our inner child: the child that never leaves us, and the child which, I think, is vital for writers of any kind.
Anyway. Back to The Daydreamer.
The book is compiled of a series of short stories all centering around one young boy, Peter, who likes to daydream. Each story is fairly unrelated, except they all have the same characters, and they’re seemingly quite simple. I think this is partly why they could appeal to children, because they’re like short bursts of energy, and you don’t need to dwell long on them. But for an adult, it’s interesting to map the subtle themes that flow through them all, noticing the character development, and revelling in the boundless imagination of the young boy.
Indeed, his imagination is truly admirable, and McEwan writes it in a way that the transition from reality into the dreamworld is so beautifully subtle, that you don’t always notice it straight away. You don’t always know what’s real and what’s not until the end of that particular story, and that’s what makes it so intriguing. Especially when he leaves the endings ambiguous, and lets you decide what happens.
I just wish I;d read this when I was writing my children’s story for my Creative Writing assignment. It dealt with dream and reality, and I worked for so long trying to capture the passage between the two. In the end, I was inspired by Alice Through the Looking-Glass, and had my main character pass through a mirror. Actually, in my Critical Commentary, I said that whilst writing this I was bearing in mind Lacan’s Mirror Stage theory, in which a baby sees themself in a mirror, and for the first time identifies itself. In this transition, they are coming in contact with their true self, an invisible part that only they can see. In reality, I only thought of that afterwards, but it made me sound clever…
I just want to write quickly about the end of this book. It was so poignant and at the same time optimistic (if that’s possible). Peter realises that he can’t always be a child, and that one day he will have to join the adults’ table, and be concerned with work and money and news. He’s standing on a beach, halfway between a group of children playing in the sea, and a group of adults talking. I’m just going to quote it, because nothing I can say could possibly do it justice. I’ll just say that I thought it was utter perfection:
He turned an faced the ocean. It was sparkling, right to the wide horizon. It stretched before him, vast and unknown. One after the other the endless waves came tumbling and tinkling against the shore, and they seemed to Peter like all the ideas and fantasies he would have in his life…
Toby and Charlie and the little ones were jostling to take turns leaping off a rock into a salt-water puddle. And behind all this human movement, the ocean bobbed and folded and slid, for nothing could keep still, not people, not water, not time.
‘Treasure!’ Kate called.
‘I’m coming!’ Peter shouted. ‘I’m coming!’ and he began to sprint towards the water’s edge. He felt nimble and weightless as he skimmed across the sand. I’m about to take off, he thought. Was he daydreaming, or was he flying?
Wednesday 23 May 2012
The Mirror Crack'd From Side to Side - Agatha Christie
I just finished reading The Mirror Crack'd From Side to Side by Agatha Christie. That's pretty much one of the few books I've read in a week all year. And that's how quickly I'm supposed to be reading them for my degree... well that's awkward.
I'd never heard of it before, and I'm not sure how well-known it is - have you ever read it? What did you think? I quite enjoyed it, although perhaps not as much as other Agatha Christie books I've read. I thought that what really happened was very clever, but then, I always do think that about her novels!
I haven't read many Agatha Christie books - I think I've only read three - The Moving Finger, The Body in the Library, and The 4:50 From Paddington are the only ones I remember reading, anyway. I really admire the way she devises her plot, and I cam safely say that I've never guessed who dunnit. The closest I came was when I read The 4:50 From Paddington, and I vaguely wondered whether the Doctor had committed the murder, and he had, but for different motives than I had supposed, and he was in cahoots with another character. Sorry if I spoiled that for you! Forget I said anything....
But The Mirror Crack'd From Side to Side didn't feel quite as good as the other ones - at least, not until the last quarter of the book, when things started to unravel a bit, and more people died. There was a lot of questioning and theorising that felt quite repetitive, and I felt that foreshadowing could have been used to much greater effect than it was.
I'm a big fan of foreshadowing. You could easily argue that it is because of my love for Harry Potter, in which foreshadowing is used flawlessly. JK Rowling, Queen of Foreshadowing! I mean, things like the golden snitch, and the way Harry caught it in his first Quidditch game being directly relevant in the final book. And the Invisibility Cloak being a Deathly Hallow. And the mention of Sirius Black in PS. It's genius. Oh, look, I've done it again: brought Harry Potter into something completely unrelated!
Back to the novel at hand, I just feel like a large part of it felt... uneventful? I'm not sure when this was written, but Miss Marple was very old in this book, and maybe it was just a reflection of how her life is becoming restricted and confined inside. Maybe Christie was trying to slow things down to deliberately contrast with the pretty fast-moving final part. But I didn't find it as gripping until the end.
The end, however, was very impressive. But, in case you haven't read it and are planning to, here is a
***SPOILER ALERT***
The increasing number of deaths made it highly intriguing, as it killed off one of my own suspects, and increased the mystery as to who was to blame. The most (deliberately) frustrating part was when Miss Marple realised what had happened, and we didn't hear what she thought for another chapter, keeping us very successfully in suspense for longer.
In addition, the death of Marina Gregg was a shock, as I didn't think she'd actually die, but of course, the main surprise was that Marina has killed Heather Badcock and the other people! At least, she and her husband had conspired on the other people, but Marina had been entirely to blame for the first one. I had not seen that coming in the slightest, especially as she made it look like she, herself was the target.
***Spoilers over***
If you haven't read this book, and don't plan to, then I'm sure this post has been pretty confusing! Here's a link to its Wikipedia page and plot summary.
Overall, I did enjoy it, but I won't call it one of my favourite Agatha Christie novels. I think my favourite was The Body in the Library, because it was such a complex plot, and I think my mind was pretty much blown when the truth came out.
The book I'm reading now is called The Daydreamer by Ian McEwan. I started it today, and I'm already on page 61, so expect a post about that soon!
I'd never heard of it before, and I'm not sure how well-known it is - have you ever read it? What did you think? I quite enjoyed it, although perhaps not as much as other Agatha Christie books I've read. I thought that what really happened was very clever, but then, I always do think that about her novels!
I haven't read many Agatha Christie books - I think I've only read three - The Moving Finger, The Body in the Library, and The 4:50 From Paddington are the only ones I remember reading, anyway. I really admire the way she devises her plot, and I cam safely say that I've never guessed who dunnit. The closest I came was when I read The 4:50 From Paddington, and I vaguely wondered whether the Doctor had committed the murder, and he had, but for different motives than I had supposed, and he was in cahoots with another character. Sorry if I spoiled that for you! Forget I said anything....
But The Mirror Crack'd From Side to Side didn't feel quite as good as the other ones - at least, not until the last quarter of the book, when things started to unravel a bit, and more people died. There was a lot of questioning and theorising that felt quite repetitive, and I felt that foreshadowing could have been used to much greater effect than it was.
I'm a big fan of foreshadowing. You could easily argue that it is because of my love for Harry Potter, in which foreshadowing is used flawlessly. JK Rowling, Queen of Foreshadowing! I mean, things like the golden snitch, and the way Harry caught it in his first Quidditch game being directly relevant in the final book. And the Invisibility Cloak being a Deathly Hallow. And the mention of Sirius Black in PS. It's genius. Oh, look, I've done it again: brought Harry Potter into something completely unrelated!
Back to the novel at hand, I just feel like a large part of it felt... uneventful? I'm not sure when this was written, but Miss Marple was very old in this book, and maybe it was just a reflection of how her life is becoming restricted and confined inside. Maybe Christie was trying to slow things down to deliberately contrast with the pretty fast-moving final part. But I didn't find it as gripping until the end.
The end, however, was very impressive. But, in case you haven't read it and are planning to, here is a
***SPOILER ALERT***
The increasing number of deaths made it highly intriguing, as it killed off one of my own suspects, and increased the mystery as to who was to blame. The most (deliberately) frustrating part was when Miss Marple realised what had happened, and we didn't hear what she thought for another chapter, keeping us very successfully in suspense for longer.
In addition, the death of Marina Gregg was a shock, as I didn't think she'd actually die, but of course, the main surprise was that Marina has killed Heather Badcock and the other people! At least, she and her husband had conspired on the other people, but Marina had been entirely to blame for the first one. I had not seen that coming in the slightest, especially as she made it look like she, herself was the target.
***Spoilers over***
If you haven't read this book, and don't plan to, then I'm sure this post has been pretty confusing! Here's a link to its Wikipedia page and plot summary.
Overall, I did enjoy it, but I won't call it one of my favourite Agatha Christie novels. I think my favourite was The Body in the Library, because it was such a complex plot, and I think my mind was pretty much blown when the truth came out.
The book I'm reading now is called The Daydreamer by Ian McEwan. I started it today, and I'm already on page 61, so expect a post about that soon!
Tuesday 15 May 2012
Upcoming reading
I have finished my second year of Uni! This is not a good thing. I can't believe I only have one year left.
However, it does mean that I now have time to read some books for pleasure: books I actually want to read!! This is going to be so awesome!
To celebrate my first day of freedom, I went shopping, and bought three new books. So here is a rough list of books that I shall be reviewing forthwith.
The Mirror Cracked From Side to Side - Agatha Christie
Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
The Daydreamer - Ian McEwan
The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
And my cousin is urging me to read the Divergent series, and I cannot resist Young Adult Fantasy (as long as there are no vampires), so I may well be adding those to the list in due course........
However, it does mean that I now have time to read some books for pleasure: books I actually want to read!! This is going to be so awesome!
To celebrate my first day of freedom, I went shopping, and bought three new books. So here is a rough list of books that I shall be reviewing forthwith.
The Mirror Cracked From Side to Side - Agatha Christie
Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
The Daydreamer - Ian McEwan
The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
And my cousin is urging me to read the Divergent series, and I cannot resist Young Adult Fantasy (as long as there are no vampires), so I may well be adding those to the list in due course........
Friday 4 May 2012
Between the Acts - Virginia Woolf
This week, for my module called Writing the Thirties – about the literature produced during the 1930s, in the run-up to the second World War – I read Between the Acts by Virginia Woolf.
I am going to say now, just in case there’s an avid Woolf fan reading this, that I mean absolutely no offence to her, but I just don’t get it.
More on that later.
It’s basically about… well, not much. If you’ve ever read a Virginia Woolf novel, you’ll understand. It’s funny, because I love reading her essays – I find them a lot more comprehensive and fascinating than her novels. I’ve read Shakespeare’s Sister, A Room of One’s Own, Chloe Liked Olivia, Androgyny and The Leaning Tower, and they were all fantastic. Especially Shakespeare’s Sister, which explores the idea of Shakespeare having a sister with the same genius as him, and the awful life she would have led because of her sex. It was, quite simply, brilliant.
But I can’t honestly say I feel the same about her novels. Last year I read To The Lighthouse, and I didn’t know what to expect. That was certainly a detriment to my reading of it, because when I found out that the first hundred pages were dedicated to describing one day (in which literally nothing happened), I was quite put out.
So luckily this time I had some suspicion of what I would encounter, which did help my enjoyment slightly. Although I wouldn’t say I liked it, I appreciated it a lot more. That said, I didn’t understand it. And that annoys me. But the thing is, I’m not sure if we’re supposed to understand it. There’s a character in it who is directing a village pageant, and she realises half way through that the audience have no clue what’s going on, and are trying desperately to understand. But she doesn’t want them to understand: that’s not the point of the pageant. The point, I think, is to simply accept it as one person’s view of English history; and I think you can relate this to the novel. I think that this character, Miss La Trobe, is Woolf’s alter ego, and that Woolf is speaking to us through her: saying don’t spend ages demystifying the meaning of this, just let the impression of English village life wash over you.
But I am not by any means suggesting that I’m right: on the contrary, read my last post to see my idea about how analysis shows more about the analyser than the text. My lecturer said today that every time he reads the novel he gets a different idea about what it means, which verifies this idea that analysis is subjective.
Another thing I had to note was how miserable everyone was. We only saw a day in their lives, but I think if we had to read any more about them it would have been completely interminable. They just didn’t say what they meant, or hid things, or moped about and sighed and wished for better things. It really infuriated me. It’s the same in To The Lighthouse, and I daresay all Woolf’s other novels too. Now, I do like depressing books. Among some of my favourites are Revolutionary Road and Atonement (and don’t even get me started on the end of The Hunger Games, because I still haven’t got over it and my heart breaks a little bit every time I think of it). I also love depressing music (I’m listening to The Civil Wars right now, and I’m feeling emotionally raw – in a good way). But these people were so dreary and silly that I just couldn’t empathise with them one bit.
I don’t think they’re meant to be likeable people. It’s probably some deep and meaningful commentary on the lives of wealthy people in rural England with nothing to do but wait as the shadow of war looms towards them, but it was frustrating, and I couldn’t have endured it much longer.
Fortunately, it’s the last book I have to read this year, so soon I can start reading easy books… although by the sounds of third year, I should already have started the reading for it =S
But what do you think? Have you read this or any of Woolf’s other books/essays? Are you a Woolf fan? If so, please tell me why, because I really think I’m missing something here!!
I am going to say now, just in case there’s an avid Woolf fan reading this, that I mean absolutely no offence to her, but I just don’t get it.
More on that later.
It’s basically about… well, not much. If you’ve ever read a Virginia Woolf novel, you’ll understand. It’s funny, because I love reading her essays – I find them a lot more comprehensive and fascinating than her novels. I’ve read Shakespeare’s Sister, A Room of One’s Own, Chloe Liked Olivia, Androgyny and The Leaning Tower, and they were all fantastic. Especially Shakespeare’s Sister, which explores the idea of Shakespeare having a sister with the same genius as him, and the awful life she would have led because of her sex. It was, quite simply, brilliant.
But I can’t honestly say I feel the same about her novels. Last year I read To The Lighthouse, and I didn’t know what to expect. That was certainly a detriment to my reading of it, because when I found out that the first hundred pages were dedicated to describing one day (in which literally nothing happened), I was quite put out.
So luckily this time I had some suspicion of what I would encounter, which did help my enjoyment slightly. Although I wouldn’t say I liked it, I appreciated it a lot more. That said, I didn’t understand it. And that annoys me. But the thing is, I’m not sure if we’re supposed to understand it. There’s a character in it who is directing a village pageant, and she realises half way through that the audience have no clue what’s going on, and are trying desperately to understand. But she doesn’t want them to understand: that’s not the point of the pageant. The point, I think, is to simply accept it as one person’s view of English history; and I think you can relate this to the novel. I think that this character, Miss La Trobe, is Woolf’s alter ego, and that Woolf is speaking to us through her: saying don’t spend ages demystifying the meaning of this, just let the impression of English village life wash over you.
But I am not by any means suggesting that I’m right: on the contrary, read my last post to see my idea about how analysis shows more about the analyser than the text. My lecturer said today that every time he reads the novel he gets a different idea about what it means, which verifies this idea that analysis is subjective.
Another thing I had to note was how miserable everyone was. We only saw a day in their lives, but I think if we had to read any more about them it would have been completely interminable. They just didn’t say what they meant, or hid things, or moped about and sighed and wished for better things. It really infuriated me. It’s the same in To The Lighthouse, and I daresay all Woolf’s other novels too. Now, I do like depressing books. Among some of my favourites are Revolutionary Road and Atonement (and don’t even get me started on the end of The Hunger Games, because I still haven’t got over it and my heart breaks a little bit every time I think of it). I also love depressing music (I’m listening to The Civil Wars right now, and I’m feeling emotionally raw – in a good way). But these people were so dreary and silly that I just couldn’t empathise with them one bit.
I don’t think they’re meant to be likeable people. It’s probably some deep and meaningful commentary on the lives of wealthy people in rural England with nothing to do but wait as the shadow of war looms towards them, but it was frustrating, and I couldn’t have endured it much longer.
Fortunately, it’s the last book I have to read this year, so soon I can start reading easy books… although by the sounds of third year, I should already have started the reading for it =S
But what do you think? Have you read this or any of Woolf’s other books/essays? Are you a Woolf fan? If so, please tell me why, because I really think I’m missing something here!!
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