C_Club #1 - "Jane Eyre" by Charlotte Brontë

I think my first read of "Jane Eyre" took place some time in early or middle of the teens. It was an Estonian-language hardcover copy (an ugly blue plain cover that gives you no idea of what the book might be about) that I snatched from my grandmother's bookshelf (my grandmother has a huuuuuuuuuuge library, but that is a topic that deserves a post of it's own). I definitely read it in summer, because books that I took from those shelves I read while spending vacation at grandmother's. I liked the story, but it didn't cause any life-changing or wow-effect.

 

I think my mum saw me read, and said something along the lines "This is a very good book". I think that is one of the only few book-related conversations me and my mother have had. She didn't used to read that much, and now that she does, our preferences in literature don't have much common ground.

 

Thus, having finished this book now, at the age of 30, I actually went to Goodreads and changed my rating to five stars. Because this book deserves it.

 

And what an interesting thing. Back in my teens, reading "Jane", I only remember the story. And some fragments of characters, because, well, they are kind of strongly painted. Reading this time, the plot was way in the background and the focus was just drawn to the characters and especially the language/dialogues. That just makes you think... all those books I read when I was younger, maybe one should pay another visit.

 

Back to the book. I have to confess that I have always been a bit puzzled when (female) readers, let's say, swoon over (male) characters and romances in novels. Secretly I wish I could do that too, but I can't, and I have accepted the fact that there is probably something wrong with me in that sense :p Maybe it means I don't relate enough, maybe it means romances aren't just that big of a deal for me. I do have a lovely boyfriend myself and I need to be taken care of, in real life, but I never look for it in books. (Maybe if it was a yummi very tragic and not-happy ending story...) So, given that, many have taken fancy of the romance in this particular novel and the male lead character. It does trigger my interest that both Jane E and Edward R are described to be plain and not that comely in their looks. I think that is refreshing to read nowadays (especially when put next to all these TV-things that 99% feature "beautiful people"; yes, let's not get into the concept/definition of beauty here). I can relate to Jane when she thinks

 

And was Mr Rochester now ugly in my eyes? No, reader: gratitude, and many associations, all pleasurable and genial, made his face the object I best liked to see; his presence in the room was more cheering than the brightest fire. /p. 128/

 

Yes, many associations are those that combine beauty, for me.

 

It's very difficult not to love Jane's character. She is an excellent role model, without being preachy or coming off fake. Just take a look at that little scene with Jane and Edward in the clothing store:

 

With anxiety I watched his eye rove over the gay stores: he fixed on a rich silk of the most brilliant amethyst dye, and superb pink satin. I told him in a new series of whispers, that he might as well buy me a gold gown and a silver bonnet at once: I should certainly never venture to wear his choice. /p. 236/

 

Bang! My kind of girl :)

 

However. May Edward R be what he is (with all the sneakiness and madwoman-affair), I actually started appreciating him a whole lot more after meeting the character called St John. Oh boy... He just made my hormones go all the wrong ways.

 

"[...] I shall be absent a fortnight - take that space of time to consider my offer: and do not forget that if you reject it, it is not me you deny, but God.[...]" /p. 362/

 

he writes in a note to Jane after having proposed. And what follows is

 

He did not leave for Cambridge the next day, as he had said he would. He deferred his departure a whole week, and during that time he made me feel what severe punishment a good yet stern, a conscientious yet implacable man can inflict on one who has offended him. Without one overt act of hostility, one upbraiding word he contrived to impress me momently with the conviction that I was put beyond the pale of his favour. /p. 363/

 

PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE MUCH? Yeah, I have issues with passive-aggressive people, even if they appear only in a book... Not to mention I can't really quite fathom such behaviour from any person claiming to be pious... So yes, story around St John did creep me out good while.

 

All in all, it was a cozy read. I think it'd make a pretty good comfort book. Language is at times lush and also sharp as a surgeon's knife, and the story itself doesn't drag nor hurry overly. If I should one day have a little girl of my own, I'd definitely stick this one in her hands first, over "Hunger Games" and whatnot other popular modern day books :)

 

---

 

401 pages

 

 

 

Spinning around - The Classics Spin!

The Classics Club has come up with some random fun - The Classics Spin. We have to list 20 titles from our still unread list of the classics (which is super easy for me since I only started this month and have read one book out of a hundred); come next Monday, a mystery person is going to pull a random number from 1 to 20 out of the top hat and people will have to finish their book under that number by the Fool's Day, 1st of April.

 

I've just created four sub-categories for this event and each of them consists of five books. I (think) I only added one mega-chunkster - "War and Peace", but otherwise trying to be realistic regarding the given time frame. Also, March is the month for the reading of Modernists, so that could possibly create some conflict of interest, depending on what number will be pulled...

 

But, without further ado, behold my list of random books:

 

Category 1: "Gimme Gimme Gimme!"

1. Ray Bradbury ”Something Wicked This Way Comes”

2. Umberto Eco “The Name of the Rose”

3. F. Scott Fitzgerald “Tender Is the Night”

4. Bram Stoker “Dracula”

5. Jane Austen “Mansfield Park”


Category 2: "Noooo! Have mercy!"

6. Charles Dickens “Bleak House”

7. Frank Herbert “Dune”

8. Jules Verne “Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea”

9. Joseph Conrad “Heart of Darkness”

10. Leo Tolstoy “War and Peace

 
Category 3: "Mh?"

11. Willa Cather “My Antonia”

12. Kate Chopin “The Awakening”

13. Ralph Ellison “Invisible Man”

14. Sinclair Lewis “Arrowsmith”

15. Yevgeny Zamyatin “We”


Category 4: "Oops... Did it again... Yadda yadda."

16. Gabriel Garcia Marquez “One Hundred Years of Solitude”

17. Milan Kundera “The Unbearable Lightness of Being”

18. William Shakespeare “Hamlet”

19. Patrick Süskind “The Perfume”

20. Fyodor Dostoyevski “Idiot”

"A Modern March" - Making the Spring New

Allie over at A Literary Odyssey is hosting an event to my liking this March - A Modern March.

 

People will be (voluntarily!) tackling authors like Virginia Woolf, James Joyce, William Faulkner, Ernest Hemingway, E. M. Forster, et cetera, et cetera... Stream of consciousness, experiments in literary techniques, multiple narratives, inner monologues, all the Make It New stuff from the late 19th-halfwaythrough the 20th century.

 

In general, I love modernists. For different reasons. I might not personally like some of them that much, or I might find them very hard to approach (Joyce, Woolf), but I can relate to the movement as such. I enjoy the concept of thinking of something new. Changing the old ways. Progress! Yes. Making It New. I also fancy some of the authors just for making me move my "little grey cells" a tad more than when I read something else, more conventional.

 

During the literature courses in uni, as much as I am able to recall, I read at least a few modernist pieces. The brightest flame among them Faulkner's "The Sound and the Fury"; I was able to rave about this one more than any other book for a good while (and I don't even generally rave over books... almost ever). We read "To the Lighthouse" - to this day I remember the scene with the pot of stew. It was the first time I realised that food can actually act almost like a character in novel. Kafka - how I loved the bureaucratic corridors of human mind in "The Trial", and how it depressed the me in late teens. We read Thomas Mann, to whom I did not take particular liking, but I really want to read him again, and will do that during the Classics Club project. I have read "The Great Gatsby" (Fitzgerald) twice and I loved "Lolita" (Nabokov), which I think is actually hanging on the border of modernism and postmodernism (such is the nature of genres; they mix and melt).

 

Anyway. I intend to read some modernist goodness this March, yes I do! Crossing over with my Classics Club list is plenty of stuff, so I'll just come up a short initial, spontaneous list (who doesn't love a good list, even if it's short):

 

* F. Scott Fitzgerald "Tender is the Night" - it's sitting on my bookshelf and I'd love a good excuse to give it some attention rather sooner than later.

* Ernest Hemingway "For Whom the Bell Tolls" - quite the contrary with this one; I think without a good motivational factors I might get to that one who knows when.

* And I'm hoping to pull out a copy of Woolf's "Mrs Dalloway" from the top hat by March, because I reallyreallyreally want to read it (and then I want to read "The Hours" right after it!), so fingers crossed.

 

The list may, of course, and is likely to, be altered.

Review: "The Woman in White" by Wilkie Collins

 

 

Where was this book when I was in high-school? And why hadn't I heard of Wilkie Collins until as of late?? Dear teacher people, who put together study plans and contents and such, while I appreciate Gogol's contribution to the canon, while I (now, at least) adore Zola's gritty and muddy streets and relationships in Paris, and while I cannot, by no means, argue that Hesse and Camus were are huge literary figures (although they both have passed by me with little impact so far, unfortunately), if you want the late-teens to hopefully pick up at least a few more classics in their later life, let them read Wilkie Collins.

 

 

 

How to even begin... After I had acknowledged Collins's existence (mainly through other book blogs - thanks guys!), I had this unexplainable urge to read "The Woman in White". It sat on top of my TBR pile the whole time while I was plowing through "A Dance With Dragons", and I swear it winked at me and whispered "Come on! You know how much you want me!" And of course I did. Not even the 750-page count scared me the least.

 

"Which way to London?" Lent from here.

Set in various locations in England in 19th century, the book must have been a sensation when it was published (1860). It has it all - mystery, (probably one of the world's first) male-female duo of detectives, big mansions and its loitering inhabitants, old-time mail service (morning post takes your letter to London by evening!), fainting maidens (actually, only one *phew*), a little bit of romance (which luckily doesn't dominate over the rest of the goodness), graveyards, doppelgangers, sneaky counts and hypochondriac uncles... I could go on, honestly.

 

Although the story itself is very, very decent (told by different narrators and in different forms), when it comes to this novel, the cherry (and what a huge cherry it is!) on top of the cake is the cast of characters. I'd even gladly take a closer look at them. But I have to agree with myself to keep it at, say, two sentences per character, because it could get long. (Needless to say this part can get spoiler-ish, depending on your tolerance level.)

 

* Walter Hartright - yeah, your typical "good guy", I guess, but he is needed in the middle of this lot, to balance out all the eccentrities. Falls for The Fainting Maiden and is otherwise very helpful and, at times, even unbelievably resourceful.

* Laura Fairlie - aforementioned Maiden; allegedly pretty to look at but I have a feeling if left alone for more than a day, this one would probably go without food and butt naked, as she doesn't seem to be able to do anything on her own. In strong need for a babysitter.

* Percival Glyde (and I refuse to add the "Sir"; in my mind one has to earn that title) - no Santa to visit you, Percival, that's for sure. Just pile some of the worst character traits one can imagine (deceptive, greedy, abusive, hypocritical, not even that bright) and there he is.

* Frederik Fairlie - hilarious character nr 1; uncle of The Fainting Maiden (blood relations between those two explain a lot, actually...). I don't even want to bash him because in his selfishness and secluded way of life, he is to be pitied, but it did make me laugh more than once to see him interacting with the rest of the household (especially the "Don't bully me, I am too weak to take it!" - parts).

* Countess Fosco - wife of Count Fosco. She basically gave out this living dead vibe and was one of the best characters in the sense that I didn't even finally get her - she went beyond me, but in a good, mysterious way.

Count Fosco. Lent from here.

* Count Fosco - hilarious character nr 2; it is impossible to hate a villain with such a brilliant mind and such eccentric ways. A very fat man in love with tarts and intelligent minds.

* The Woman in White - the mystery! *ghostly sounds*

* Marian Halcombe - tat-ta-da-daa! Hilarious character nr 3. Possibly the greatest female heroine e-ver. How she and The Fainting Maiden could share a parent, I do not understand, as the difference between those two girls can be measured in light years. (And yes, the praise to Marian is going longer than just two sentences!) She has all the looks valued at the time except for the face (the misery!), and like another favourite character of mine, Tyrion Lannister, she knows that what she lacks she needs to make up with other means - extraordinarily sharp wit, the kind of gut and spunk that I don't think 95% of other women of the time were able to even grasp in their pretty little often dizzy heads, strong common sense, the way with words (heaven knows I wouldn't have made it if I had to read the diary of Laura Fairlie but Marian's was very enjoyable), and she would not go without food or butt naked, that's for sure. Follows one of the more brilliant and self-sarcastic thoughts from Marian's head:

 

If I only had the privileges of a man, I would order out Sir Percival's best horse instantly, and tear away on a night-gallop, eastward, to meet the rising sun - a long, hard, heavy, ceaseless gallop of hours and hours, like the famous highwayman's ride to York. Being, however, nothing but a woman, condemned to patience, propriety, and petticoats for life, I must respect the house-keeper's opinions, and try to compose myself in some feeble and feminine way. /p. 225/

 

I am sure someone has already thought of it, but I am thinking that in honour of wonderful Marian Halcombe, one day I will order a T-shirt saying "Petticoats for life!".

 

* And somewhat of a honourary mention - Professor Pesca, friend of Walter Hartright (hilarious character nr 4). There was not enough Pesca in the book! One could only theoretise how this novel would have felt like, had Pesca been carrying out the role of Hartright and teamed up with Ms Halcombe.

 

 

Brain Food, III

Okay, here come some bricks books I have hunted down during the past ten days or so. I have to admit that I am beginning to get slightly intimidated by all those chunksters that seem to find their way to my home... But what can you do. I love chunksters!

 

Let's go from top to bottom, then.

 

* Stephen King, "Bag of Bones" - because you need a good bite of King when feeling like taking a break from all these wonderful (but sometimes a bit exhausting) classics.

* William Shakespeare, "Hamlet" - I purchased this Penguin version for my Classics Club Challenge. Looking forward to being reacquinted with the Scandinavian Prince again. And look what a tiny little book it is (compared to the rest of the pile)!

* Charlotte Brontë "Jane Eyre" - ditto to the last one. I made the mistake of "I'll just take a little peek into this book...", which resulted in not enough sleep last night. I better just finish it off and be done with that :)

* Arthur Conan Doyle "The Penguin Complete Sherlock Holmes" - oh boy. How did I end up with this book, and for 5 (!!!) euros only? Because we have awesome second-hand bookshop here in Helsinki, basically in our back yard... ("Jane Eyre" and "Bag of Bones" were 2 euros both. Why was I ever buying new books?) Anyway... Mr Holmes weighs a ton, has 1200 pages and very small font. I predict this one's gonna take some time. Good thing is that you can read a novel or a story now and then and not feel disconnected from the characters or the overall atmosphere.

* Roger Zelazny "The Great Book of Amber" - and the inevitable dose of fantasy. While Sherlock was a brick, this one's a bloody foundation panel... It is the collection of all the 10 books in Zelazny's "Amber Chronicles" series. I read them, or at least most of them, being young, and in Estonian. Lately I really started missing some good soap-opera-fantasy, an easy read but not the like to dull your mind. This series is all about the characters, and the characters are ... hilarious. Imagine members of a royal family/kin, who smoke, drink, swear and constantly attempt to stab each other in the back? Yep. That's Amber.

 

So, out of these, I am already halfway through "Jane Eyre", I started "A Study in Scarlet" and also couldn't resist taking a peek into the scheming in Amber (25/120 pages of the first novel read - yes, they are that short!).

Book Beginnings: Complete Sherlock Holmes

 

 

Book Beginnings on Fridays is a meme hosted by Gilion at Rose City Reader. To participate, share the opening sentence of your current read. Include the title and the author. Share thoughts, impressions, or anything else inspiration-worthy.

"(Every story ever written about fiction's most famous detective in) The Penguin Complete Sherlock Holmes" by Arthur Conan Doyle:

 

In the year 1878 I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine of the University of London, and proceeded to Netley to go through the course prescribed for surgeons in the Army.

 

So begins A Study in Scarlet, the first novel in this enormous, 1100-page-small-font brick of a book.



Closing the lid of January

The first month of the year has ended. You know what that means. Only February to suffer and then it is almost legitimate to start waiting or spring. Being a citizen of a Nordic country this is a big deal for me because the snow piles, low temperatures and overall darkness can get a bit uninspiring.

 

Anyhow, the upside is that when it's cold and uncomfortable outside, the more time to read.

 

I finished 6 books in January, which was my first month of blogging and more "systematic" reading. Six is not maybe that much, but considering that two of them were chunksters, I think it is more or less decent number.

 

In total I read 3039 pages in January.

 

 

 

The books were

 

• M. Atwood "The Handmaid's Tale"
• G. Orwell "1984"
• H. S. Thompson "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas"
• O. S. Card "Ender's Game"
• G. R. R. Martin "A Dance With Dragons"
• W. Collins "The Woman in White"

I have no idea how February will turn out. I am still reading "1Q84" (which is a little bit disappointing in many ways, but I will write about that at later day), I started "Germinal", which is awesome but which I want to devour in small pieces, I started "Howards End" in Estonian and made it until page 90 before fully realising that reading Forster in Estonian equals a small sin, and I also started the ultimate Sherlock Holmes collection I found this weekend. I also found a nice copy of "Jane Eyre" and am quite tempted to start that re-read (it has been many, many years and I am very curious how I might see this book at this age).

 

Plans for blog posts this week include thoughts on "The Woman in White", which I haven't had time to write about, and show off the new books from last week.