I'm a day late again; I completely blanked that yesterday was Sunday! However, since I was stuck in bed/on the couch with a cold, I ended up finishing Witches' Brew today. That leaves me with five stories to discuss, so I'll be brief.
I was very hesitant going into "The Birds" by Daphne du Marier, since I'm not a fan of the movie, but it ended up to be great. Nothing like the movie and a lot more sinister. It tells the story of what a country man does to try to protect his family when all of the birds in England mysteriously begin attacking people. Highly recommended!
On the other hand, Mary Elizabeth Counselman's "Night Court" left me cold. One night, a reckless driver gets into yet another crash and finds himself summoned to a court conducted by victims of car accidents. It was way too preachy for me to enjoy. And I saw the 'twist' a mile away.
After that, I had a real treat with "The Lovely House" by Shirley Jackson. A young girl goes to visit her friend in a big old house. But things take an odd turn or two. The ending doesn't wrap everything up; Jackson leaves that up to the reader, which I really appreciate. I'm thinking I really need to read more by Shirley Jackson (I've also read "The Lottery").
"Kindling Point" by Marcia Muller (one of the editors of the anthology, which I find sketchy) felt like an assignment for a college writing class. Take that as you will, but I found it a bit too simplistic and juvenile to enjoy. A woman in an old Victorian finds out that her daughter is talking to ghosts through a Ouijia (sp?) board; the ghosts' story seems to be eerily reflective of the present day.
And the final story was Joyce Carol Oates' "The Bingo Master." This story was very powerful, however it didn't have the slightest element of horror or supernatural or spookiness. So, I'm not sure why it's in the collection, but I'm glad I read it. I don't really want to share a plot summary, since it's the kind of writing that draws much of its power from the unfolding.
There you have it, a whirlwind tour of the last part of Witches' Brew. I'm glad I found this anthology, but I find it was of mixed quality; either the stories were incredible or bad, nothing in between.
Now for the little, bitty challenge (don't look at me that way). Literate Kitten is hosting a horror short story challenge. She's listed her top ten spooky stories and is challenging participants to read just one of them during the month of October. Also, she'd like it if participants provided their own list of ten horror tales. A lot of her selections sound very good, but I've decided to commit myself to "The Monkey's Paw." I'll also be reading another of her picks (the Isak Dinesen) as part of one of my R.I.P. II books. Makes me more excited to read it! I'm not sure if I can come up with ten good creepy stories, but I'll try...
"The Cask of Amontillado" by Edgar Allen Poe. I found this incredibly creepy, and I'm pretty sure it gave me nightmares for quite awhile.
The Birds" by Daphne du Marier. You can tell I didn't read a lot of horror short stories before the R.I.P. II challenge!
"The Lovely House" by Shirley Jackson (see above)
"Riding the Bullet" by Stephen King. I think King is scarier in short story form than novel form, and a lot of the stories in Everything's Eventual were creepy. This one has stayed with me, though.
""Snow, Glass, Apples" by Neil Gaiman. Oh my gosh-this is easily one of the creepiest stories I've ever read. It actually made the hair on my arms stand up.
"The Thing in the Wood" by A.S. Byatt. Also a very spooky tale, one that I still remember vividly after six years.
And, um, that's all I'm coming up with right now. I don't have much experience with short stories. However, my next trip to the library should help change that; I'll be coming home with the ss collections by Joyce Carol Oates, John Saul, Peter Straub, Dean Koontz, and the Oxford Book of Gothic Tales. Yay for ghost stories in October!
Showing posts with label r.i.p. challenge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label r.i.p. challenge. Show all posts
Monday, October 8, 2007
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Short Story Sunday (and two book giveaways)
Wow-trying to visit all of the sites in the R.I.P. II challenge has been interesting; I have a feeling my blogroll's going to grow. I already try to read all of the reviews posted (of course, now I'm woefully behind), but there turned out to be quite a few blogs that hadn't posted reviews to the list. It was fun getting to see so many different styles of book blogging! Yes, I visited all the sites today; I was pretty much stuck in bed, so I alternately watched that documentary on the spelling bee (I was supposed to be watching a great Gregory Peck movie, but Blockbuster got confused), visited blogs, tried not to touch my nose (I got it pierced! not why I was bed-ridden), and read. I'm happy to report that I finished all my goals for September! Coming soon will a review of the summer quarter and a pile of books for October. :)
Before I get to the short stories, I'd just like to point out that there are a couple book giveaways going on right now. Superfastreader is giving away a copy of Auralia's Colors by Jeffrey Overstreet. All you have to do is fill out a simple form (name, e-mail, website) to be entered, and it's open to the whole world until Oct 5. :) Then, Gentle Reader over at Shelf Life is generously offering an extra copy of The World Without Us by Alan Weisman. For this one, just leave a comment by October 2nd.
And now, without further adieu, this week I read "The Idol of the Flies" by Jane Rice and "Judgement Day" by Flannery O'Connor. They were both on the longish side, and I have no idea why the second one was included in a horror anthology.
"The Idol of the Flies" by Jane Rice
I've never heard of Jane Rice (one of only two in the anthology), but her story was very disturbing. Basically, this little brat named Pruitt makes the lives of all the adults around him miserable for no apparent reason other than evil. He finds out their weaknesses and then shamelessly uses them to bring about hurt and sadness. He has this odd relationship with flies as well. I won't tell you the ending, but this story was quite difficult for me to read. I don't like stories about people who deliberately hurt others; it makes me just too sad. It was well-written, however. My favourite passage in this one gives away the ending, so I won't share it here.
"Judgement Day" by Flannery O'Connor
As I said before, this one didn't really seem like a horror story at all. The weirdest it gets is a dream, but it's not like the dream comes true or anything! This was my first story by O'Connor, and I was very distracted by the constant use of the n-word. I know that this is an issue for a lot of people in her writing, and I expect that if I were to read a collection of her short stories I'd grow used to it, but as it was it felt like I got a little shock each time I read one. When I read, I hear my inner voice reading aloud in my head, which was what made it so difficult. Honestly, I can't say that I got a very strong impression of what the story was about with that constant distraction. Nevertheless, the writing style itself was quite strong, and I definitely plan on reading more of O'Connor one day.
Ok-I'm being a bit rambly tonight: probably the pain killers. Hope everyone had a good weekend!
Before I get to the short stories, I'd just like to point out that there are a couple book giveaways going on right now. Superfastreader is giving away a copy of Auralia's Colors by Jeffrey Overstreet. All you have to do is fill out a simple form (name, e-mail, website) to be entered, and it's open to the whole world until Oct 5. :) Then, Gentle Reader over at Shelf Life is generously offering an extra copy of The World Without Us by Alan Weisman. For this one, just leave a comment by October 2nd.
And now, without further adieu, this week I read "The Idol of the Flies" by Jane Rice and "Judgement Day" by Flannery O'Connor. They were both on the longish side, and I have no idea why the second one was included in a horror anthology.
"The Idol of the Flies" by Jane Rice
I've never heard of Jane Rice (one of only two in the anthology), but her story was very disturbing. Basically, this little brat named Pruitt makes the lives of all the adults around him miserable for no apparent reason other than evil. He finds out their weaknesses and then shamelessly uses them to bring about hurt and sadness. He has this odd relationship with flies as well. I won't tell you the ending, but this story was quite difficult for me to read. I don't like stories about people who deliberately hurt others; it makes me just too sad. It was well-written, however. My favourite passage in this one gives away the ending, so I won't share it here.
"Judgement Day" by Flannery O'Connor
As I said before, this one didn't really seem like a horror story at all. The weirdest it gets is a dream, but it's not like the dream comes true or anything! This was my first story by O'Connor, and I was very distracted by the constant use of the n-word. I know that this is an issue for a lot of people in her writing, and I expect that if I were to read a collection of her short stories I'd grow used to it, but as it was it felt like I got a little shock each time I read one. When I read, I hear my inner voice reading aloud in my head, which was what made it so difficult. Honestly, I can't say that I got a very strong impression of what the story was about with that constant distraction. Nevertheless, the writing style itself was quite strong, and I definitely plan on reading more of O'Connor one day.
Ok-I'm being a bit rambly tonight: probably the pain killers. Hope everyone had a good weekend!
Saturday, September 29, 2007
The House Next Door (thoughts)
It's been awhile since my last R.I.P. II review! And, since my Little Black Poppet came in (he's currently nameless...it's taking awhile), and Carl's challenging everyone to bloghop, this post seems doubly appropriate.
I read The House Next Door by Anne River Siddons in one night: it's definitely one of those books that grabs you and doesn't let you go. Nevertheless, I have hesitations about recommending it, because it feels, well, evil. I was left with a very bad feeling that took about a day to dissipate. I suppose I'm just not used to horror novels like this, but I'd caution would-be readers that Siddons will get under your skin.
The book is told in first-person, and most of it is set in the recent past, with Col recounting all of the events that led up to her and her husband's decision to talk to People magazine (this is disclosed in the foreward; I promise, no spoilers here). Col lives in an affluent suburb outside of Atlanta, and she is very upset to hear that the plot next door has been bought, and that a modern-style house is going to be built there. The house goes through three families, which each make up a different part of the book, with each story getting progressively creepier. The last one involves an abusive husband, and it was at that point in the book that I began to feel almost physically ill. I know that might sound silly, but I had a very intense reaction; it certainly surprised me!
Eventually, Col and her husband realise that the house is evil; then they have to decide what kind of action to take to try to save future buyers from the house. I won't give away the ending, but it's definitely a good one.
So, there's a lot of positives about this book: it's written well (in his intro, which I didn't read until after I finished the novel, King calls the style Southern Gothic), the characters are interesting, the house is spooky, the plot compelling. Nevertheless, I really wish I'd never picked this one up. I don't even like looking at it; I'm hoping someone'll bookmooch it soon. Siddons did her job too well; while I'll definitely be looking at other books she wrote, I'm very glad this is the only work of horror in her oeuvre. Definitely gave me the shivers, so very R.I.P. II appropriate.
Favourite Passage
"If you think daugher and Daddy are creepy, you ought to catch the sonny-and-Mama show," Kim said. "The mother of the groom was there when I went to see Pie, and she couldn't keep her hands off poor old Buddy. Smoothing his hair, and straightening his tie, and saying what a soldier he'd been about the whole thing, and not once even looking at the bereft little mama, who was glaring daggers at her. She's the soldier in the family; looks exactly like Douglas MacArthur. And he was practically peeing on the rug with gratitude. If you ask me, there's something Tennessee Williams about the whole tribe of 'em." (60)
I read The House Next Door by Anne River Siddons in one night: it's definitely one of those books that grabs you and doesn't let you go. Nevertheless, I have hesitations about recommending it, because it feels, well, evil. I was left with a very bad feeling that took about a day to dissipate. I suppose I'm just not used to horror novels like this, but I'd caution would-be readers that Siddons will get under your skin.
The book is told in first-person, and most of it is set in the recent past, with Col recounting all of the events that led up to her and her husband's decision to talk to People magazine (this is disclosed in the foreward; I promise, no spoilers here). Col lives in an affluent suburb outside of Atlanta, and she is very upset to hear that the plot next door has been bought, and that a modern-style house is going to be built there. The house goes through three families, which each make up a different part of the book, with each story getting progressively creepier. The last one involves an abusive husband, and it was at that point in the book that I began to feel almost physically ill. I know that might sound silly, but I had a very intense reaction; it certainly surprised me!
Eventually, Col and her husband realise that the house is evil; then they have to decide what kind of action to take to try to save future buyers from the house. I won't give away the ending, but it's definitely a good one.
So, there's a lot of positives about this book: it's written well (in his intro, which I didn't read until after I finished the novel, King calls the style Southern Gothic), the characters are interesting, the house is spooky, the plot compelling. Nevertheless, I really wish I'd never picked this one up. I don't even like looking at it; I'm hoping someone'll bookmooch it soon. Siddons did her job too well; while I'll definitely be looking at other books she wrote, I'm very glad this is the only work of horror in her oeuvre. Definitely gave me the shivers, so very R.I.P. II appropriate.
Favourite Passage
"If you think daugher and Daddy are creepy, you ought to catch the sonny-and-Mama show," Kim said. "The mother of the groom was there when I went to see Pie, and she couldn't keep her hands off poor old Buddy. Smoothing his hair, and straightening his tie, and saying what a soldier he'd been about the whole thing, and not once even looking at the bereft little mama, who was glaring daggers at her. She's the soldier in the family; looks exactly like Douglas MacArthur. And he was practically peeing on the rug with gratitude. If you ask me, there's something Tennessee Williams about the whole tribe of 'em." (60)
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Short Story Sunday
I read three short stories today: "The Gray Man" by Rebecca West, "The Cyprian Cat" by Dorothy Sayers, and "A Haunted House" by Virginia Woolf. I enjoyed them all, however they weren't really scary. Haunting, not scary.
"The Gray Man" by Rebecca West
This story could have been very scary, however the style of narration prevented this. The narrator tells about a vacation where she became very ill and was placed in a nursing home. While there, she becomes sleep deprived and experiences a very disturbing, prophetic dream. I wish that West had upped the creepiness factor, but it was still an interesting story.
I felt obliged to watch the trees outside my window and their behaviour in the sunshine and wind, to note the characteristics of every person who spoke to me, with a quite disagreeable intensity, and I was so fatigued by this constant effort of apprehension that there was no continuity in the working of my brain. Every moment of consciousness was distinct and unrelated to any other. Instead of being a stream my mental life was a string of disparate beads.
"The Cyprian Cat" by Dorothy Sayers
I love Sayers' Lord Whimsey series, but I'd never read any of her short stories. After reading this story, I definitely want to remedy that! In this story, the narrator meets an old friend and his new wife for a little vacation. However, the narrator finds the vacation town absolutely overrun by cats at night; since he detests cats, he decides to buy a pistol to scare them off. But it is odd how the cats only come out at night, and his friend's new wife goes to bed so early and is unresponsive until morning... This was definitely a fun story, but I wish there was a little more background. I think that the idea could have easily been expanded into a novella. Still, makes me look at cats differently!
I tried to distract my mind by looking at the girl. She was worth looking at, too-very slim, and ark with one of those dead-white skins that make you think of magnolia blossom. She had the most astonishing eyes, too-I've never seen eyes quite like them; a very pale brown, almost amber, set wide apart and a little slanting, and they seemed to have a kind of luminosity of their own.
"The Haunted House" by Virginia Woolf
This is a very short story, more of a sketch in fact. It's only two pages long, but it's quite heartwarming. Two ghosts wander around a house, remembering all of the places where they were in love, and wishing blessings on the current occupant. It definitely makes you smile, and since it's Woolf the language and style is beautiful. This was probably my favourite of the three. :)
"Here we slept," she says. And he adds, "Kisses without number." "Waking in the morning-" "Silver between the trees-" "Upstairs-" "In the garden-" "When summer came-" "In winter snowtime-" The doors go shutting far in the distance, gently knocking like the pulse of a heart.
"The Gray Man" by Rebecca West
This story could have been very scary, however the style of narration prevented this. The narrator tells about a vacation where she became very ill and was placed in a nursing home. While there, she becomes sleep deprived and experiences a very disturbing, prophetic dream. I wish that West had upped the creepiness factor, but it was still an interesting story.
I felt obliged to watch the trees outside my window and their behaviour in the sunshine and wind, to note the characteristics of every person who spoke to me, with a quite disagreeable intensity, and I was so fatigued by this constant effort of apprehension that there was no continuity in the working of my brain. Every moment of consciousness was distinct and unrelated to any other. Instead of being a stream my mental life was a string of disparate beads.
"The Cyprian Cat" by Dorothy Sayers
I love Sayers' Lord Whimsey series, but I'd never read any of her short stories. After reading this story, I definitely want to remedy that! In this story, the narrator meets an old friend and his new wife for a little vacation. However, the narrator finds the vacation town absolutely overrun by cats at night; since he detests cats, he decides to buy a pistol to scare them off. But it is odd how the cats only come out at night, and his friend's new wife goes to bed so early and is unresponsive until morning... This was definitely a fun story, but I wish there was a little more background. I think that the idea could have easily been expanded into a novella. Still, makes me look at cats differently!
I tried to distract my mind by looking at the girl. She was worth looking at, too-very slim, and ark with one of those dead-white skins that make you think of magnolia blossom. She had the most astonishing eyes, too-I've never seen eyes quite like them; a very pale brown, almost amber, set wide apart and a little slanting, and they seemed to have a kind of luminosity of their own.
"The Haunted House" by Virginia Woolf
This is a very short story, more of a sketch in fact. It's only two pages long, but it's quite heartwarming. Two ghosts wander around a house, remembering all of the places where they were in love, and wishing blessings on the current occupant. It definitely makes you smile, and since it's Woolf the language and style is beautiful. This was probably my favourite of the three. :)
"Here we slept," she says. And he adds, "Kisses without number." "Waking in the morning-" "Silver between the trees-" "Upstairs-" "In the garden-" "When summer came-" "In winter snowtime-" The doors go shutting far in the distance, gently knocking like the pulse of a heart.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
(Very) Short Story Sunday (Monday): Sinclair and Christie
I've read two more of the selections from Witches' Brew, both of which were rather short. The stories are definitely becomeing more creepy as I move along closer to present day. :) This week, I read "Where Their Fire is Not Quenched" by May Sinclair and "The Lamp" by Agatha Christie.
The former is a somewhat moralising story about a woman who finds herself in Hell. Essentially, she has to repeat the same act, where in life she destroyed love, over and over again. I was incredibly creeped out by the idea of having to relive a bad experience, that you've spent years trying to forget ever happened, for eternity. Ugh.
The latter is a traditional ghost story; you pretty much know what's going to happen, but it's creepy anyway. The ending was quite abrupt; I think that the story could have done with a few more pages to really flesh it out. Nevertheless, a fun, easy ghost read. Nothing particularly deep or psychological about it.
And that pretty much sums it up!
The former is a somewhat moralising story about a woman who finds herself in Hell. Essentially, she has to repeat the same act, where in life she destroyed love, over and over again. I was incredibly creeped out by the idea of having to relive a bad experience, that you've spent years trying to forget ever happened, for eternity. Ugh.
The latter is a traditional ghost story; you pretty much know what's going to happen, but it's creepy anyway. The ending was quite abrupt; I think that the story could have done with a few more pages to really flesh it out. Nevertheless, a fun, easy ghost read. Nothing particularly deep or psychological about it.
And that pretty much sums it up!
Saturday, September 15, 2007
The Rest Falls Away (thoughts)
Before I get to the review, just wanted to let everyone know that Dewey has posted guidelines for the 24-hour-read-a-thon she's sponsoring! It'll take place October 20th (a Saturday), and there are a myriad of ways to participate. I definitely want to be a reader, although I'm not really looking forward to waking up at 7 am on a Saturday (mountain time). Everyone go check it out, and mention my name, because then I get to one of Dewey's Most Awesome People Ever (MAPE). :p
On to the review!
Notice the fast turn-around time on this review, the first of Colleen Gleason's vampire series, entitled The Rest Falls Away. ;) For those of you not participating in the R.I.P. II challenge, or who have managed to overlook all of the other reviews, the series is based on the author's curiousity about what life for Buffy (from TV) would have been like if she lived in the Victorian era. I am quite torn about this book, actually. Perhaps all of the glowing reviews I read beforehand built up my expectations a little too much.
Here's the thing. I found it a very enjoyable fluff read. It had a lot of humour, like
But then, Gleason goes and pulls the rug out from under me. It's like you're happily enjoying cotton candy, eating it too quickly because you just can't help yourself, and and suddenly you take a bite and the cotton candy tastes like dill pickle. I am Very Unhappy about the turn one of the characters took. All of you who've read the book know exactly what I'm talking about. I don't feel as if Awful Things should happen in a fluff book; isn't there some unspoken rule about that?
My more serious hesitation as to this book is the writing style. I was frustrated by the author telling me things, instead of showing me them. For example,
Despite these writing flaws, the book is a very enjoyable high-adventure romp, and for a first book, the heavy handedness is perhaps understandable. In summary: read this book if you're good with a heavy-adventure, somewhat-sexy piece of funny-for-all-the-right-reasons, plot driven fluff piece. Don't read this book if you only read Serious Literature, or expect extraordinary writing or deep character development.
On to the review!
Notice the fast turn-around time on this review, the first of Colleen Gleason's vampire series, entitled The Rest Falls Away. ;) For those of you not participating in the R.I.P. II challenge, or who have managed to overlook all of the other reviews, the series is based on the author's curiousity about what life for Buffy (from TV) would have been like if she lived in the Victorian era. I am quite torn about this book, actually. Perhaps all of the glowing reviews I read beforehand built up my expectations a little too much.
Here's the thing. I found it a very enjoyable fluff read. It had a lot of humour, like
Victoria considered the stake for a brief, delicious moment, then regretfully rested it on the table. She had four new polished ash stakes, each to be painted a different color so that they could complement her various gowns. Verbena had suggested ivory, pink, pale green, and blue, and was advocating further decoration using flowers, feathers, and beads. (84)Oh yes, because we all know how our vampire-killing weapons must coordinate with our outfits. ;) There are several comedic devices used throughout the book; one of the most fun was the chapter titles. I also thoroughly enjoyed the tea parties of the three matrons of society, particularly a certain one's progressively larger crusifixes! The characters were all fun to get to know; not what I'd call particularly deep, or *ahem* realistic, but fun. My favourite is Verbena, the ever-resourceful maid. She kind of reminds me of a nineteenth-century MacGyver, whose talents also include hairdressing. And I'm not gonna lie, there are some passages in the book that explain why it's kept under the 'Romance' section; two of the characters at least seem to qualify this series for the upcoming Swoonworthy Challenge. Take this introduction of a Marquess
Lady Gwendolyn had not exaggerated. Well-turned did not begin to describe the man who stood before her, raising her gloved hand to his lips. He stood as tall as any man in the room, his rich brown hair gleaming with strands of gold as he tipped his head to press a kiss to the back her hand. "If you have not yet greeted everyone, may I dare hope there might be a dance left on your card?" His voice matched his looks-clean, calm, smooth-but his eyes carried a different cadence. Something that made her feel very warm.Yummy!
But then, Gleason goes and pulls the rug out from under me. It's like you're happily enjoying cotton candy, eating it too quickly because you just can't help yourself, and and suddenly you take a bite and the cotton candy tastes like dill pickle. I am Very Unhappy about the turn one of the characters took. All of you who've read the book know exactly what I'm talking about. I don't feel as if Awful Things should happen in a fluff book; isn't there some unspoken rule about that?
My more serious hesitation as to this book is the writing style. I was frustrated by the author telling me things, instead of showing me them. For example,
"Just what did you think you were doing, Victoria?" he snapped, stalking toward her.So just in case I didn't pick up from the abruptness of the actual dialogue that this guy snapped, I'm told it. And just in case I didn't figure out that snapping means the guy's probably mad, I'm also told he's stalking. This is an especially easy trap for Gleason to fall into because she uses a rotating third-person point of view.
Despite these writing flaws, the book is a very enjoyable high-adventure romp, and for a first book, the heavy handedness is perhaps understandable. In summary: read this book if you're good with a heavy-adventure, somewhat-sexy piece of funny-for-all-the-right-reasons, plot driven fluff piece. Don't read this book if you only read Serious Literature, or expect extraordinary writing or deep character development.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Short Story Sunday (Gilman, Atherton, and Wharton)
This week, I read three stories from the Witches' Brew collection: "The Yellow Wall Paper" by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, "The Striding Place" by Gertrude Atherton, and "Afterward" by Edith Wharton. I very much enjoyed all three, and they felt significantly creepier than last week's reading.
"The Yellow Wall Paper" by Charlotte Perkins Gilman
Several people commented on the blog that they weren't huge fans of this story. Aparrently, it's one of those stories that is often part of the high school curriculum, so students have to analyse it to death. I can see how that would make it annoying; however, reading it for pure pleasure, I was impressed! The first sentence is great:
Favourite Passage:
It is the strangest yellow, that wall paper! It makes me think of all the yellow things I ever saw-not beautiful ones like buttercups, but old foul, bad yellow things.
"The Striding Place" by Gertrude Atherton
This story is very short: a mere seven pages. However, it has an incredibly creepy last sentence (that I won't share, for obvious reasons). It follows Weigall, who is part of a hunting party a England, and goes out later that night to walk and think. His best friend has disappeared a couple of days earlier, and while Weigall is almost sure that it's a prank, he's still nervous. The writing is very polished; I'd never heard of Atherton before, but I'm impressed with her descriptive ability. For example,
Favourite Passage:
"You believe in the soul as an independent entity, then-that it and the vital principle are not one and the same?"
"Absolutely. The body and soul are twins, life comrades-sometimes friends, sometimes enemies, but always loyal in the last instance."
"Afterward" by Edith Wharton
I love Wharton's novels, but this was my first experience with her short stories. "Afterward" is rather on the long side, coming in at thirty-five pages, but it needs that length to really develop its narrative. I was most impressed by the first three-quarters of the story, when Wharton is setting the mood. An American couple, having struck it rich through some kind of mining speculation, move to England and settle into an old county seat. They've been told that it has a ghost, but there's a twist: no one realises it's a ghost until long afterward. Hmmm...I wonder what will happen? ;) Wharton's narrative ability is very impressive, but I felt that towards the end the story began to fall apart. Granted, it's told from one character's p.o.v., and that character is very distraught, but I felt the writing slacked a little. Then, it picked back up at the very end. I don't think I'd have noticed the poorer quality of the little penultimate section, except that the writing surrounding it so good. I'd like to get my hands on the collection of Wharton's ghost stories one day (jealous of Petunia). The story also wasn't quite as hair-raising; I think because it's more of a conventional ghost story than the other two. Still well worth reading!
Favourite Passage:
"I should never believe I was living in an old house unless I was thoroughly uncomfrtable," Ned Boyne, the more extravagant of the two, had jocosely insisted; "th eleast hint of 'conveniance' would make me think it had been bought out of an exhibition, with th epieces numbered, and set up again." And they had proceeded to enumerate, with humorous precision, their various doubts and demands, refusing to believe that the house their cousin recommend was really Tudor till they learned it had no heating system, or that the village church was literally on the grounds, and till she assured them of the deplorable uncertainty of the water-supply.
"The Yellow Wall Paper" by Charlotte Perkins Gilman
Several people commented on the blog that they weren't huge fans of this story. Aparrently, it's one of those stories that is often part of the high school curriculum, so students have to analyse it to death. I can see how that would make it annoying; however, reading it for pure pleasure, I was impressed! The first sentence is great:
It is very seldom that mere ordinary people like John and myself secure ancestral halls for the summer.The story is written as a first-person diary, kept by a woman who is recovering from a "nervous condition" on the orders of her physician-husband. She's staying in the upstairs nursery, which takes up almost the whole floor, and has hideous yellow wall-paper. The diary covers three months, and as time goes on, the narrator becomes more and more captivated by the paper. It's pretty creepy, and an enjoyable read at twenty pages. Towards the end, Gilman can't resist the temptation to wallop the reader over the head with symbolism, but I'll forgive her. ;)
Favourite Passage:
It is the strangest yellow, that wall paper! It makes me think of all the yellow things I ever saw-not beautiful ones like buttercups, but old foul, bad yellow things.
"The Striding Place" by Gertrude Atherton
This story is very short: a mere seven pages. However, it has an incredibly creepy last sentence (that I won't share, for obvious reasons). It follows Weigall, who is part of a hunting party a England, and goes out later that night to walk and think. His best friend has disappeared a couple of days earlier, and while Weigall is almost sure that it's a prank, he's still nervous. The writing is very polished; I'd never heard of Atherton before, but I'm impressed with her descriptive ability. For example,
He went down to the river and followed the path through the woods. There was no moon, but the stars sprinkled their cold light upon the pretty belt of water flowing placidly past wood and ruin, between green masses of overhanging rocks or sloping banks tangled with tree and shrub, leaping occasionally over stones with the harsh notes of an angry scold, to recover its equanimity the moment the way was clear again.I think, based on this story, I'll be seeking out more of Atherton's work.
Favourite Passage:
"You believe in the soul as an independent entity, then-that it and the vital principle are not one and the same?"
"Absolutely. The body and soul are twins, life comrades-sometimes friends, sometimes enemies, but always loyal in the last instance."
"Afterward" by Edith Wharton
I love Wharton's novels, but this was my first experience with her short stories. "Afterward" is rather on the long side, coming in at thirty-five pages, but it needs that length to really develop its narrative. I was most impressed by the first three-quarters of the story, when Wharton is setting the mood. An American couple, having struck it rich through some kind of mining speculation, move to England and settle into an old county seat. They've been told that it has a ghost, but there's a twist: no one realises it's a ghost until long afterward. Hmmm...I wonder what will happen? ;) Wharton's narrative ability is very impressive, but I felt that towards the end the story began to fall apart. Granted, it's told from one character's p.o.v., and that character is very distraught, but I felt the writing slacked a little. Then, it picked back up at the very end. I don't think I'd have noticed the poorer quality of the little penultimate section, except that the writing surrounding it so good. I'd like to get my hands on the collection of Wharton's ghost stories one day (jealous of Petunia). The story also wasn't quite as hair-raising; I think because it's more of a conventional ghost story than the other two. Still well worth reading!
Favourite Passage:
"I should never believe I was living in an old house unless I was thoroughly uncomfrtable," Ned Boyne, the more extravagant of the two, had jocosely insisted; "th eleast hint of 'conveniance' would make me think it had been bought out of an exhibition, with th epieces numbered, and set up again." And they had proceeded to enumerate, with humorous precision, their various doubts and demands, refusing to believe that the house their cousin recommend was really Tudor till they learned it had no heating system, or that the village church was literally on the grounds, and till she assured them of the deplorable uncertainty of the water-supply.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
The Ghost Writer
Imagine that A.S. Byatt's Possession and Diane Setterfield's The Thirteenth Tale had a baby. Now imagine that Henry James agreed to play godfather, but Charles Dickens also popped in from time to time.
That baby's name is The Ghost Writer, and John Harwood is the proud papa. I read about this book on a blog; I used to think it was over at superfastreader's, but now a search on her site isn't bringing up the title. So if you've reviewed The Ghost Writer lately, let me know so I can give some credit. :) It duly went on the TBR list; then, the R.I.P. II challenge appeared, so I went off to bookmooch. There, I obtained a *gorgeous* copy (it looks like it's never been read before), and the cover has been teasing me for the past week. I mean, look at it:
I was planning on waiting awhile for this one, since I just finished my first R.I.P. II read; but, as Oscar Wilde puts it, "I can resist everything except temptation." Then, I was planning on reading it only at night; that would make it creepier and make it last awhile longer. But today was full of thunderstorms, and the baby took a really long nap, and that cover was just crying out to me.
I finished it about half an hour ago, but I wasn't go to review it; I was going to review a couple other books I finished earlier for other challenges. However, the perfect introduction formed in my head, so I had to run on over to blogger and share the news.
This book kicks ass.
For all of you who enjoyed The Thirteenth Tale, for its shamelessly gothic plot twists and book references, for all of you who loved Byatt's use of several distinct styles in Possession, I have someone I'd like you to meet.
The Ghost Writer tells the story of Gerard, an Australian librarian (told you it was for bookish people) who grows up on his mother's stories about her idyllic childhood in England. When he's thirteen, he gets a British penpal, Alice, who he tells about the mysterious photo and story he found hidden in his mother's vanity. The story was written by "VH," which happen to be the initials of his great-grandmother, Viola Hatherley; after Gerard finds the photo and story, his mother refuses to talk about England ever again. Meanwhile, Gerard and Alice become close friends, and Gerard decides to travel to England. While there, he explores the mystery of his mother's past, coming across more stories written by VH. As events get eerier and eerier, Gerard begins to wonder...is he going crazy? Or stuck in the middle of a ghost story?
The best part of this novel are VH's stories; they're all included, and take up 167 pages (of 369). Harwood has done a very good job of weaving them into the plot, but really these stories (they're all ghost stories) could stand alone in their own collection. They're just stunning (and very creepy); I hope that Harwood writes more of VH's tales in the future.
There are weaknesses to the book: sometimes Gerard seems incredibly dense (I was on to the twist by at least half way through, whereas Gerard can't figure it out until the very, very end) and the ending is quite abrupt. While I personally enjoy endings that leave a lot up to the reader to figure out, some people might feel annoyed. The ending definitely leaves room for a sequel, or related book, with more of VH's work, which made me very excited.
I realise that perhaps I should provide a sample passage from one of VH's stories, so that y'all can recognise the sudden obssession I have; the following is from "The Gift of Flight." The main character, Julia, was reading the the British Museums's Reading Room when she suddenly looked up and realised the room was blanketed in a thick fog. Then she hears someone sit down in the chair next to her...
I'm very glad that I read The Ghost Writer for the R.I.P. II challenge; it almost seems like it could be the poster child for the challenge, since it's very gothic and focuses on ghosts. Another one I'd recommend to just about anyone; it's both literary and a page-turner. Gosh, it seems that so far the R.I.P. II challenge can do no wrong! Two great books down; I hope the other two can live up to them. :)
That baby's name is The Ghost Writer, and John Harwood is the proud papa. I read about this book on a blog; I used to think it was over at superfastreader's, but now a search on her site isn't bringing up the title. So if you've reviewed The Ghost Writer lately, let me know so I can give some credit. :) It duly went on the TBR list; then, the R.I.P. II challenge appeared, so I went off to bookmooch. There, I obtained a *gorgeous* copy (it looks like it's never been read before), and the cover has been teasing me for the past week. I mean, look at it:
I was planning on waiting awhile for this one, since I just finished my first R.I.P. II read; but, as Oscar Wilde puts it, "I can resist everything except temptation." Then, I was planning on reading it only at night; that would make it creepier and make it last awhile longer. But today was full of thunderstorms, and the baby took a really long nap, and that cover was just crying out to me.
I finished it about half an hour ago, but I wasn't go to review it; I was going to review a couple other books I finished earlier for other challenges. However, the perfect introduction formed in my head, so I had to run on over to blogger and share the news.
This book kicks ass.
For all of you who enjoyed The Thirteenth Tale, for its shamelessly gothic plot twists and book references, for all of you who loved Byatt's use of several distinct styles in Possession, I have someone I'd like you to meet.
The Ghost Writer tells the story of Gerard, an Australian librarian (told you it was for bookish people) who grows up on his mother's stories about her idyllic childhood in England. When he's thirteen, he gets a British penpal, Alice, who he tells about the mysterious photo and story he found hidden in his mother's vanity. The story was written by "VH," which happen to be the initials of his great-grandmother, Viola Hatherley; after Gerard finds the photo and story, his mother refuses to talk about England ever again. Meanwhile, Gerard and Alice become close friends, and Gerard decides to travel to England. While there, he explores the mystery of his mother's past, coming across more stories written by VH. As events get eerier and eerier, Gerard begins to wonder...is he going crazy? Or stuck in the middle of a ghost story?
The best part of this novel are VH's stories; they're all included, and take up 167 pages (of 369). Harwood has done a very good job of weaving them into the plot, but really these stories (they're all ghost stories) could stand alone in their own collection. They're just stunning (and very creepy); I hope that Harwood writes more of VH's tales in the future.
There are weaknesses to the book: sometimes Gerard seems incredibly dense (I was on to the twist by at least half way through, whereas Gerard can't figure it out until the very, very end) and the ending is quite abrupt. While I personally enjoy endings that leave a lot up to the reader to figure out, some people might feel annoyed. The ending definitely leaves room for a sequel, or related book, with more of VH's work, which made me very excited.
I realise that perhaps I should provide a sample passage from one of VH's stories, so that y'all can recognise the sudden obssession I have; the following is from "The Gift of Flight." The main character, Julia, was reading the the British Museums's Reading Room when she suddenly looked up and realised the room was blanketed in a thick fog. Then she hears someone sit down in the chair next to her...
Very slowly, keeping her eyes on the fog-bank between herself and her invisible companion, Julia began to ease herself off her chair, hoping to slip away silently in the other direction, towards the catalogue. Her chair creaked loudly, and as it did so the wall of fog to her left rose up like a curtain.Isn't the writing beautiful?
In that first glimpse, Julia was relieved, though startled, to discover that the chair beside her was occupied by a child, a little girl of no more than eight, with golden curls and pink cheeks, dressed in a starched white frock and petticoat. The reassurance lasted only an instant. There was something fixed and unnatural about the bright, smiling face turned towards Julia, and especially about the eyes, which had been slightly downcast, but suddenly opened wide with an audible click. They were the shoe-button eyes of a doll; the face looked as hard and rigid as porcelain; and yet the creature was alive, for it was swinging its legs around with evident intention of sliding off its chair and coming over to Julia.
I'm very glad that I read The Ghost Writer for the R.I.P. II challenge; it almost seems like it could be the poster child for the challenge, since it's very gothic and focuses on ghosts. Another one I'd recommend to just about anyone; it's both literary and a page-turner. Gosh, it seems that so far the R.I.P. II challenge can do no wrong! Two great books down; I hope the other two can live up to them. :)
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Something Wicked This Way Comes (thoughts)
I started off the R.I.P. II challenge with Ray Bradbury's Something Wicked This Way Comes. Thus, the first words to greet my eyes were
I've never read anything by Ray Bradbury before; I haven't actively avoided him, but he wasn't on my TBR shortlist. I have a friend who's in (platonic) love with Bradbury, and who has corresponded with him for several years. Somehow, his enthusiasm never wore off on me. Now, I'm going to have to eat crow. Because Ray Bradbury can write. Man, can he write.
Wait, maybe I should back up a little. A quick, no-spoilers, no-details plot review is in order. A carnival comes to a sleepy, Midwestern town. But this is no ordinary carnival: it's supernatural, and very evil. Best friends Jim Nightshade and Will Halloway (born a minute after and a minute before Halloween, respectively) get on the wrong side of the carnival and find themselves locked in a battle of good and evil.
The book has an interesting feel to it; as you're reading, you almost feel as if you're hallucinating in parts. The point of view shifts between characters, and each character seems to go off on his (usually his) own thought tangents; the reader gets carried along for the ride. For example,
However, for those readers who prefer action to thought, there is a definite plot line to follow, and Bradbury provides a very satisfactory, concrete ending. As the book progresses, the plot picks up, and the dreamy sequences are cut to a minimum. The book also gets creepier and creepier, as the boys progress from feeling in danger generally, to being terrified of very specific people. Reading the book rather feels like following a triangle; from a very broad beginning, everything begins to narrow to a sharp point. This style increases the tension, and by about two-thirds of the way through it, there was no way I wanted to put it down.
**Note: the next two parts have very general spoilers, i.e.-they discuss events that happen pretty far along in the book. It doesn't give away the ending, but I thought I'd let you know nonetheless, in case you're planning on reading the book soon and want a complete surprise. The spoiler section ends at the photo.**
While I love both the boys, my favourite character was Will's father. He goes on an incredible journey through the book. When we first meet him, we're in the library...
Speaking of the library, I loved how important it was to the book. The creepiest scene, by far, takes place there: Jim and Will are hiding from the Mr. Dark, aka The Illuminated Man, who runs the carnival, and who isn't happy with them. It's a five-page chapter of simple incredible writing. Unfortunately, I can't share it all. But here's a taste (no spoilers, I promise):
To sum up: this was the perfect start to R.I.P. II. I love Ray Bradbury. Go read Something Wicked This Way Comes.
More Favourite Passages
They opened the door and stepped in.
They stopped.
The library deeps lay waiting for them.
Out in the world, not much happened. But here in the special night, a land bricked with paper and leather, anything might happen, always did. Listen! and you heard ten thousand people screaming so high only dogs feathered their ears. A million folk ran toting cannons, sharpening guillotines; Chinese, four abreast, marched on forever. Invisible, silent, yes, but Jim and Will had the gift of ears and noses as well as the gift of tongues. This was a factory of spices from far countries. Here alien deserts sulmbered. Up front was the desk where the nice old lady, Miss Watriss, purple-stamped your books, but down off away were Tibet and Antarctica, the Congo. There went Miss Wills, the other librarian, though Outer Mongolia, calmly toting fragments of Peiping and Yokohama and the Celebes. (13)
It was the silence that made Will pull back, even as Jim leaned forward, eyes moon-bright.
A carnival should be all growls, roars like timberlands stacked, bundled, rolled and crashed, great explosions of lion dust, men abalze with working anger, pop bottles jangling, horse buckles shivering, engines and elephants in full stampede through rains of sweat while zebras neighed and trembled like cage trapped in cage.
But this was like the old movies, the silent theater haunted with black-and-white ghosts, silvery mouths opening to let moonlight smoke out, gestures made in silence so hushed you could hear the wind fizz the hair on your cheeks. (51-2)
Will slung off lim-falling clothes with tipsy arms and delightfully aching legs, and like a fall of timber chopped himself to bed... (140)
"For some, autumn comes early, stays late through life where Octoboer follows Septmeber and November touches October and then instead of December and Christ's birth, there is no Bethlehem Star, no rejoicing, but September comes again and old October and so on down the years, with no winter, spring, or revivifying summer. For these beings, fall is the ever normal season, the only weather, there be no choice beyond. Where do they come from? The dust. Where do they go? The grave. Does blood stir their veins? No: the night wind. What ticks in their head? The worm. What speaks from their mouth? The toad. What sees from their eye? The snake. What hears with their ear? The abyss between the stars. They sift the human storm for souls, eat flesh of reason, fill tombs with sinners. They frenxy forth. In gusts they beetle-scurry, creep, thread, filter, motion, make all moons sullen, and surely cloud all clear-run waters. The spider-web hears them, trembles-breaks. Such are the autumn people. Beware of them." (192-3)
First of all, it was October, a rare month for boys.Very appropriate! And the book just kept getting better.
I've never read anything by Ray Bradbury before; I haven't actively avoided him, but he wasn't on my TBR shortlist. I have a friend who's in (platonic) love with Bradbury, and who has corresponded with him for several years. Somehow, his enthusiasm never wore off on me. Now, I'm going to have to eat crow. Because Ray Bradbury can write. Man, can he write.
Wait, maybe I should back up a little. A quick, no-spoilers, no-details plot review is in order. A carnival comes to a sleepy, Midwestern town. But this is no ordinary carnival: it's supernatural, and very evil. Best friends Jim Nightshade and Will Halloway (born a minute after and a minute before Halloween, respectively) get on the wrong side of the carnival and find themselves locked in a battle of good and evil.
The book has an interesting feel to it; as you're reading, you almost feel as if you're hallucinating in parts. The point of view shifts between characters, and each character seems to go off on his (usually his) own thought tangents; the reader gets carried along for the ride. For example,
Boy, it's the same old thing. I talk. Jim runs. I tilt stones, Jim grabs the cold junk under the stones and-lickety split! I clumb hills. Jim yells off church steeples. I got a bank account. Jim's got the hair on his head, the yell in his mouth, the shirt on his back, and the tennis shoes on his feet. How come I think he's richer? Because, Will thought, I sit on the rock in the sun and old Jim, he prickles his arm-hairs by moonlight and dances with hoptoads. I tend cows. Jim tames Gila monsters. Fool! I yell at Jim. Coward! he yells back. And here we-go!I very much enjoyed these digressions, since Bradbury is such an awesome writer. I think he can pull of stream-of-consciousness. :)
However, for those readers who prefer action to thought, there is a definite plot line to follow, and Bradbury provides a very satisfactory, concrete ending. As the book progresses, the plot picks up, and the dreamy sequences are cut to a minimum. The book also gets creepier and creepier, as the boys progress from feeling in danger generally, to being terrified of very specific people. Reading the book rather feels like following a triangle; from a very broad beginning, everything begins to narrow to a sharp point. This style increases the tension, and by about two-thirds of the way through it, there was no way I wanted to put it down.
**Note: the next two parts have very general spoilers, i.e.-they discuss events that happen pretty far along in the book. It doesn't give away the ending, but I thought I'd let you know nonetheless, in case you're planning on reading the book soon and want a complete surprise. The spoiler section ends at the photo.**
While I love both the boys, my favourite character was Will's father. He goes on an incredible journey through the book. When we first meet him, we're in the library...
Way down the third book corridor, an oldish man whispered his broom along in the dark, mounding the fallen spices...Will stared. It was always a surprise-the old man, his work, his name. That's Charles William Halloway, thought Will, not grandfather, not far-wandering, anciet uncle, as some might think, but...my father.From these inauspicious beginnings, Charles becomes a kickass, evil-fighting, son-protecting super hero. Best of all, his main plan of attack: researching in the library! Charles is at home in the library, and Bradbury gives him his best soliloquays in those musty corridors. A short sample:
The stuff of nightmare is their plain bread. They butter it with pain. They set their clockes by deathwatch beetles, and thrive the centuries. They were the men with the leather-ribbon whips who sweated up the Pyramids seasoning it with other people's salt and other people's cracked hearts. They coursed Europe on the White Horses of the Plague. They whispered to Caesar that he was mortal, then sold daggers half-price in the grand March sale.
Speaking of the library, I loved how important it was to the book. The creepiest scene, by far, takes place there: Jim and Will are hiding from the Mr. Dark, aka The Illuminated Man, who runs the carnival, and who isn't happy with them. It's a five-page chapter of simple incredible writing. Unfortunately, I can't share it all. But here's a taste (no spoilers, I promise):
Somewhere in the recumbent solitudes, the motionless but teeming millions of books, lost in two dozen turns right, three dozen turns left, down aisles, through corridors, toward dead ends, locked doors, half-empty shelves, somewhere in the literary soot of Dickens' London, or Dostoevsky's Moscow or the steppes beyond, somewhere in the vellumed dust of atlas or Geographica, sneezes pent but set like traps, the boys crouched, stood, lay sweating a cool and constant brine.If that doesn't make you want to read the whole book, check out the best chapter ever:
Somewhere hidden, Jim thought: He's coming!
Somewhere hidden, Will though: He's near!
"Boys...?"
To sum up: this was the perfect start to R.I.P. II. I love Ray Bradbury. Go read Something Wicked This Way Comes.
More Favourite Passages
They opened the door and stepped in.
They stopped.
The library deeps lay waiting for them.
Out in the world, not much happened. But here in the special night, a land bricked with paper and leather, anything might happen, always did. Listen! and you heard ten thousand people screaming so high only dogs feathered their ears. A million folk ran toting cannons, sharpening guillotines; Chinese, four abreast, marched on forever. Invisible, silent, yes, but Jim and Will had the gift of ears and noses as well as the gift of tongues. This was a factory of spices from far countries. Here alien deserts sulmbered. Up front was the desk where the nice old lady, Miss Watriss, purple-stamped your books, but down off away were Tibet and Antarctica, the Congo. There went Miss Wills, the other librarian, though Outer Mongolia, calmly toting fragments of Peiping and Yokohama and the Celebes. (13)
It was the silence that made Will pull back, even as Jim leaned forward, eyes moon-bright.
A carnival should be all growls, roars like timberlands stacked, bundled, rolled and crashed, great explosions of lion dust, men abalze with working anger, pop bottles jangling, horse buckles shivering, engines and elephants in full stampede through rains of sweat while zebras neighed and trembled like cage trapped in cage.
But this was like the old movies, the silent theater haunted with black-and-white ghosts, silvery mouths opening to let moonlight smoke out, gestures made in silence so hushed you could hear the wind fizz the hair on your cheeks. (51-2)
Will slung off lim-falling clothes with tipsy arms and delightfully aching legs, and like a fall of timber chopped himself to bed... (140)
"For some, autumn comes early, stays late through life where Octoboer follows Septmeber and November touches October and then instead of December and Christ's birth, there is no Bethlehem Star, no rejoicing, but September comes again and old October and so on down the years, with no winter, spring, or revivifying summer. For these beings, fall is the ever normal season, the only weather, there be no choice beyond. Where do they come from? The dust. Where do they go? The grave. Does blood stir their veins? No: the night wind. What ticks in their head? The worm. What speaks from their mouth? The toad. What sees from their eye? The snake. What hears with their ear? The abyss between the stars. They sift the human storm for souls, eat flesh of reason, fill tombs with sinners. They frenxy forth. In gusts they beetle-scurry, creep, thread, filter, motion, make all moons sullen, and surely cloud all clear-run waters. The spider-web hears them, trembles-breaks. Such are the autumn people. Beware of them." (192-3)
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Short Story Sunday (Radcliffe and Shelley)
One of Carl's perils for the R.I.P. II challenge was to discuss scary short stories every Sunday. Mine will come from Witches' Brew, a collection of gothic and scary stories by women writers. There are seventeen stories, so I'll discuss two or three a week. In the collection, they're arranged in chronological order, and I think this is a good way to approach it. That way, I can watch styles evolve. :)
This week, I read "The Haunted Chamber" by Ann Radcliffe and "The Last Man" by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley. Both of these women are known for their gothic works: Radcliffe brough the genre to popularity with works such as The Mysteries of Udolpho, and Shelley created a horror legend with Frankenstein.
"The Haunted Chamber" by Ann Radcliffe
I haven't read any of Radcliffe's novels (although I know a little about them from Northanger Abbey) so I wasn't sure what to expect. "The Haunted Chamber" is about eighteen pages long, and it tells the story of Ludovico who agrees to spend then night in the haunted wing of a chateau and duel the spirits within (he actually receives a sword to do this). Within that plot, Radcliffe provides readers with another ghost story, since Ludovico has chosen (wisely?) to occupy himself with a book of Provencal folktales. I found myself both disappointed in and enjoying Radcliffe's style. I enjoyed her descriptions of the chateau, and the way she structured passages. However, I needed more specifics. Instead of just having the servants scared and screaming, I wanted to see a ghostly lady, or something like that. At one point, we do hear music, and voice so exquisite as to appear un-human, but that's the only specific haunting in the story. I wanted the hairs on the back of my neck to rise, and they never did. Also, in a little footnote at the end of the story, Radcliffe explains away all the ghostly incidents with a Scooby-Doo feeling revelation. I thought it would have been a better story without that! Nevertheless, I think that I'd really enjoy Radcliffe in novel form, so I'll definitely be picking up some of her books.
Favourite Passage:
...this led to the question, whether the spirit, after it has quitted the body, is ever permitted to revisit the earth; and if it is, whether it was possible for spirits to become visible to the sense? The baron was of opinion, that the first was probably, and the last was possible; and he endeavoured to justify this opinion by respectable authorities, both ancient and modern, whih he quoted. The count, however, was decidedly against him; and a long conversation ensued, in which the usual arguments on these subjects were on both sides brought forward with skill and discussed with candour, but without converting either party to the opinion of his opponent. The effect of their conversation on their auditors was various. Though the count had much the superiority of the baron in point of argument, he had fewer adherents: for that love, so natural to the human mind, of whatever is able to distend its faculties with wonder and astonishment, attached the majority of the company to the side of the baron...
"The Last Man" by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
This is a post-apocalyptic tale, set in France. The survivors of a massive plague have banded together and are walking from Versailles to Switzerland, but really just passing time until they too die. Over the course of their trip, their numbers are reduced from 1500 to 50; meanwhile, they have several spooky encounters which end up having rational explanations. Finally, the meat of the story, is the ending; the survivors find a lone girl playing the organ for her blind father, who isn't aware of the plague that has decimated everything around him.
Shelley painted an effective picture of people coming to terms with the inevitably of death, both of themselves and their loved ones. Really, the story seems an meditation on the tragic insignificance of people. This one really touched me, especially knowing some of Shelley's background. Her own life was surrounded by so much death, I think she had a unique ability to draw this kind of world. In fact, I wish that this short story was at least a novella; it's rich enough in material to warrant that.
Favourite Passage:
But the game is up! We must all die; nor leave survivor nor heir to the wide inheritance of earth. We must all die! The species of man must perish; his frame of exquisite workmanship; the wondrous mechanism of his senses; the noble proportion of his godlike limbs; his mind, the throned king of these; must perish. Will the earth still keep her place among the planets; will she still journey with unmarked regularity around the planets; will the seasons change, the trees adorn themselves with leaves, and flowers shed their fragrance, in solitude? Will the mountains remain unmoved, and the strems still keep a downward course towards the vast abyss; will the tides rise and fall, adn the winds fan universal-nature; will beasts pasture, birds fly, and the fishes swim, when man, the lord, possessor, perceiver, and recorder of all these things, has passed away, as though he had never been? O, what mockery is this!
This week, I read "The Haunted Chamber" by Ann Radcliffe and "The Last Man" by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley. Both of these women are known for their gothic works: Radcliffe brough the genre to popularity with works such as The Mysteries of Udolpho, and Shelley created a horror legend with Frankenstein.
"The Haunted Chamber" by Ann Radcliffe
I haven't read any of Radcliffe's novels (although I know a little about them from Northanger Abbey) so I wasn't sure what to expect. "The Haunted Chamber" is about eighteen pages long, and it tells the story of Ludovico who agrees to spend then night in the haunted wing of a chateau and duel the spirits within (he actually receives a sword to do this). Within that plot, Radcliffe provides readers with another ghost story, since Ludovico has chosen (wisely?) to occupy himself with a book of Provencal folktales. I found myself both disappointed in and enjoying Radcliffe's style. I enjoyed her descriptions of the chateau, and the way she structured passages. However, I needed more specifics. Instead of just having the servants scared and screaming, I wanted to see a ghostly lady, or something like that. At one point, we do hear music, and voice so exquisite as to appear un-human, but that's the only specific haunting in the story. I wanted the hairs on the back of my neck to rise, and they never did. Also, in a little footnote at the end of the story, Radcliffe explains away all the ghostly incidents with a Scooby-Doo feeling revelation. I thought it would have been a better story without that! Nevertheless, I think that I'd really enjoy Radcliffe in novel form, so I'll definitely be picking up some of her books.
Favourite Passage:
...this led to the question, whether the spirit, after it has quitted the body, is ever permitted to revisit the earth; and if it is, whether it was possible for spirits to become visible to the sense? The baron was of opinion, that the first was probably, and the last was possible; and he endeavoured to justify this opinion by respectable authorities, both ancient and modern, whih he quoted. The count, however, was decidedly against him; and a long conversation ensued, in which the usual arguments on these subjects were on both sides brought forward with skill and discussed with candour, but without converting either party to the opinion of his opponent. The effect of their conversation on their auditors was various. Though the count had much the superiority of the baron in point of argument, he had fewer adherents: for that love, so natural to the human mind, of whatever is able to distend its faculties with wonder and astonishment, attached the majority of the company to the side of the baron...
"The Last Man" by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
This is a post-apocalyptic tale, set in France. The survivors of a massive plague have banded together and are walking from Versailles to Switzerland, but really just passing time until they too die. Over the course of their trip, their numbers are reduced from 1500 to 50; meanwhile, they have several spooky encounters which end up having rational explanations. Finally, the meat of the story, is the ending; the survivors find a lone girl playing the organ for her blind father, who isn't aware of the plague that has decimated everything around him.
Shelley painted an effective picture of people coming to terms with the inevitably of death, both of themselves and their loved ones. Really, the story seems an meditation on the tragic insignificance of people. This one really touched me, especially knowing some of Shelley's background. Her own life was surrounded by so much death, I think she had a unique ability to draw this kind of world. In fact, I wish that this short story was at least a novella; it's rich enough in material to warrant that.
Favourite Passage:
But the game is up! We must all die; nor leave survivor nor heir to the wide inheritance of earth. We must all die! The species of man must perish; his frame of exquisite workmanship; the wondrous mechanism of his senses; the noble proportion of his godlike limbs; his mind, the throned king of these; must perish. Will the earth still keep her place among the planets; will she still journey with unmarked regularity around the planets; will the seasons change, the trees adorn themselves with leaves, and flowers shed their fragrance, in solitude? Will the mountains remain unmoved, and the strems still keep a downward course towards the vast abyss; will the tides rise and fall, adn the winds fan universal-nature; will beasts pasture, birds fly, and the fishes swim, when man, the lord, possessor, perceiver, and recorder of all these things, has passed away, as though he had never been? O, what mockery is this!
The Best Laid Plans
I was so excited to post on my bookpiles of TBR on September 1st. And then what happened? Yesterday seemed to slip away...
+my sister's in town, so that's super fun
+I got a great new hair cut!
+we run a lot of errands
+we watched a couple movies
Thus, the piles come to you a day late. I've divided them up into fic and non-fic-apologies for the bad lighting. For some reason, my overhead light refuses to turn on, and it's dark outside, so the only alternative is a flash. :)
Here're the plans for this month's non-fic, from top to bottom (all for my personal non-fic challenge):
Death at the Priory by James Ruddick: it's as close to cozy English mystery novel I can get to and still be reading truth. I've been looking forward to this for months!
Fast Food Nation by Eric Sclosser: I think it'll be an interesting read (I'm already a vegetarian, so I'm not sure how much it'll affect my eating habits); I'd like to get it done this month so I can get it back on bookmooch, and let someone else read it.
Reason For Hope by Jane Goodall: I plan on reading one memoir/biography a month, and I thought this one would be a good antidote to all of the creepy fiction I'll be reading!
Stiff by Mary Roach: after the disappointing Spook, I'm not expecting much the second go-round. I'd like to get this read so it can get back on book mooch as well. Plus, it seems very appropriate for the R.I.P. II challenge!
The Persian Puzzle by Kenneth Pollack: a continuation from last months' reading. I'm enjoying it, but the tiny print makes it a slower read.
Making War to Keep Peace by Jeane Kirkpatrick. I read about this in the NYT book review this weekend, and my library had a copy. Considering that I did a huge research project my senior of college on peace keeping, I think it'll be fun to read what Kirkpatrick has to say. :)
Now for the dessert side of this month's reading: fiction! Once again taking it from the top...
A Morbid Taste for Bones by Ellis Peters: one of my Unread Authors challenge selections. I think I'll be in the mood for a mystery at some point, and I've heard good things about this series. :)
Seven Gothic Tales by Isak Dinesen: one of my R.I.P. II choices. Don't you love the Gothic type font?! Very excited about this!
Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman: a reread for the Reading the Author challenge. I'm looking forward to revisiting this; I haven't read it in a couple of years.
Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury: another R.I.P. II book, which I started last night (after midnight). I'm already entranced.
The Ghost Writer by John Harwood: I'm not sure if I'll get to this one this month or next (it's another R.I.P. II selection), but look at the creepy spine. How could I not include it in the pile?
The Last September by Elizabeth Bowen: for the Outmoded Authors Challenge. I'm excited to visit Ireland in the prewar years, on a plantation no less; it'll be a new experience for me!
Embers by Sandor Marai: for my personal Reading Across Borders challenge; this is a Hungarian novel. I love Vintage Press-their books are always so pretty. :)
The War of the Saints by Jorge Amado: a carryover from last month (I'm about a third of the way through), and another Reading Across Borders choice. So far, I'm loving it! Its happiness and hope is a good antidote to the spookier books.
Mariette in Ecstasy by Ron Hansen: for the Book to Movie challenge. I ILLed it, so I have to finish it by October 4th. It sounds interesting: a nun at a convent shows signs of, well, ecstasy. Is it real?
Witches Brew: my already-discussed source for the Sunday Short Story aspect of R.I.P. II (expect my first post later today). I probably won't finish it this month; I'll try to spread it evenly over the whole challenge.
Whew! I'm exhausted just thinking about my goals for this month! Well, I'm off to read more Bradbury; I'm only reading it at night, so as not to ruin the great writing with bright sunshine. Happy Labour Day weekend to all my fellow Americans. :)
+my sister's in town, so that's super fun
+I got a great new hair cut!
+we run a lot of errands
+we watched a couple movies
Thus, the piles come to you a day late. I've divided them up into fic and non-fic-apologies for the bad lighting. For some reason, my overhead light refuses to turn on, and it's dark outside, so the only alternative is a flash. :)
Here're the plans for this month's non-fic, from top to bottom (all for my personal non-fic challenge):
Death at the Priory by James Ruddick: it's as close to cozy English mystery novel I can get to and still be reading truth. I've been looking forward to this for months!
Fast Food Nation by Eric Sclosser: I think it'll be an interesting read (I'm already a vegetarian, so I'm not sure how much it'll affect my eating habits); I'd like to get it done this month so I can get it back on bookmooch, and let someone else read it.
Reason For Hope by Jane Goodall: I plan on reading one memoir/biography a month, and I thought this one would be a good antidote to all of the creepy fiction I'll be reading!
Stiff by Mary Roach: after the disappointing Spook, I'm not expecting much the second go-round. I'd like to get this read so it can get back on book mooch as well. Plus, it seems very appropriate for the R.I.P. II challenge!
The Persian Puzzle by Kenneth Pollack: a continuation from last months' reading. I'm enjoying it, but the tiny print makes it a slower read.
Making War to Keep Peace by Jeane Kirkpatrick. I read about this in the NYT book review this weekend, and my library had a copy. Considering that I did a huge research project my senior of college on peace keeping, I think it'll be fun to read what Kirkpatrick has to say. :)
Now for the dessert side of this month's reading: fiction! Once again taking it from the top...
A Morbid Taste for Bones by Ellis Peters: one of my Unread Authors challenge selections. I think I'll be in the mood for a mystery at some point, and I've heard good things about this series. :)
Seven Gothic Tales by Isak Dinesen: one of my R.I.P. II choices. Don't you love the Gothic type font?! Very excited about this!
Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman: a reread for the Reading the Author challenge. I'm looking forward to revisiting this; I haven't read it in a couple of years.
Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury: another R.I.P. II book, which I started last night (after midnight). I'm already entranced.
The Ghost Writer by John Harwood: I'm not sure if I'll get to this one this month or next (it's another R.I.P. II selection), but look at the creepy spine. How could I not include it in the pile?
The Last September by Elizabeth Bowen: for the Outmoded Authors Challenge. I'm excited to visit Ireland in the prewar years, on a plantation no less; it'll be a new experience for me!
Embers by Sandor Marai: for my personal Reading Across Borders challenge; this is a Hungarian novel. I love Vintage Press-their books are always so pretty. :)
The War of the Saints by Jorge Amado: a carryover from last month (I'm about a third of the way through), and another Reading Across Borders choice. So far, I'm loving it! Its happiness and hope is a good antidote to the spookier books.
Mariette in Ecstasy by Ron Hansen: for the Book to Movie challenge. I ILLed it, so I have to finish it by October 4th. It sounds interesting: a nun at a convent shows signs of, well, ecstasy. Is it real?
Witches Brew: my already-discussed source for the Sunday Short Story aspect of R.I.P. II (expect my first post later today). I probably won't finish it this month; I'll try to spread it evenly over the whole challenge.
Whew! I'm exhausted just thinking about my goals for this month! Well, I'm off to read more Bradbury; I'm only reading it at night, so as not to ruin the great writing with bright sunshine. Happy Labour Day weekend to all my fellow Americans. :)
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Famous Last Words
Remember how I said that R.I.P. II would be my last challenge? Well, then I visited Incurable Logophilia, and saw that the "Reading the Author" challenge is up. It starts in September and goes through 2007. You pick one author and read at least three books written by him/her. And I've decided to pick Neil Gaiman.
Why? A number of reasons...
1) I own all of his novels (and his first ss collection) except for American Gods and Coraline. This is a good excuse to plug that hole.
2) I've read all of the books I picked except for Sandman and Coraline. So, most of the challenge will be an excuse to indulge in rereading one of my favourite authors.
3) This is a good chance to try out this type of challenge on an old favourite. If it goes well, I'll try it out with other authors (short list? Walter Scott, Virginia Woolf, Toni Morrison).
And while we're on the subject of book lists, here're the short story collections that will furnish my Spooky Story Marathon end to the R.I.P. II challenge on Halloween:
The Blackstone Chronicles by John Saul
Haunted by Joyce Carol Oates
Magic Terror by Peter Straub
Strange Highways by Dean Koontz
and my personal favourite...The Oxford Book of Gothic Tales ed. Chris Baldick.
Am I certifiable? Perhaps. But I figure I might as well shoot high! I can always cut back on my non-fic reading. ;)
Why? A number of reasons...
1) I own all of his novels (and his first ss collection) except for American Gods and Coraline. This is a good excuse to plug that hole.
2) I've read all of the books I picked except for Sandman and Coraline. So, most of the challenge will be an excuse to indulge in rereading one of my favourite authors.
3) This is a good chance to try out this type of challenge on an old favourite. If it goes well, I'll try it out with other authors (short list? Walter Scott, Virginia Woolf, Toni Morrison).
And while we're on the subject of book lists, here're the short story collections that will furnish my Spooky Story Marathon end to the R.I.P. II challenge on Halloween:
The Blackstone Chronicles by John Saul
Haunted by Joyce Carol Oates
Magic Terror by Peter Straub
Strange Highways by Dean Koontz
and my personal favourite...The Oxford Book of Gothic Tales ed. Chris Baldick.
Am I certifiable? Perhaps. But I figure I might as well shoot high! I can always cut back on my non-fic reading. ;)
Monday, August 27, 2007
Potpourri of Thoughts
+I really need to do a review of Books on Books: I've recently completed both A Gentle Madness and How Reading Changed My Life. They were very different, in both length (80 pages v. 500+) and content. But both interesting.
+I'm trying to figure out how I feel about The Last Kabbalist of Lisbon by Richard Zimler. I just finished it after a marathon session; I realised that if I didn't force myself to read it to the end, I'd never finish. I think I'm going to let the story ferment in my mind for awhile.
+I'm putting together a pile of September's books, inspired by Danielle over at A Work in Progress. It should be a fun stack, considering all of the challenges that begin!
+I've thought of a supplement to the R.I.P. II challenge: marathon scary-story reading on October 31st. I have a list of short story collections available at my library that I'll post. Somehow, I think SS work a little better than novels for a marathon!
+I've decided to modify my personal non-fic challenge: instead of seven books/month, I'll read six books/month and completely read The Economist every week. I love it, and I've been neglecting it lately! Also, and this is super-cool, they're providing a free audio version of the complete magazine every week. So I can listen to it while I do yoga! (side note: I know that a lot of people do yoga for the meditative benefits, and listening to the news during Downward Dog sounds sacreligious, but I do yoga to help my muscles, and sometimes I get bored)
That about sums up what's going through my head right now. That, and when did August slip away?!
+I'm trying to figure out how I feel about The Last Kabbalist of Lisbon by Richard Zimler. I just finished it after a marathon session; I realised that if I didn't force myself to read it to the end, I'd never finish. I think I'm going to let the story ferment in my mind for awhile.
+I'm putting together a pile of September's books, inspired by Danielle over at A Work in Progress. It should be a fun stack, considering all of the challenges that begin!
+I've thought of a supplement to the R.I.P. II challenge: marathon scary-story reading on October 31st. I have a list of short story collections available at my library that I'll post. Somehow, I think SS work a little better than novels for a marathon!
+I've decided to modify my personal non-fic challenge: instead of seven books/month, I'll read six books/month and completely read The Economist every week. I love it, and I've been neglecting it lately! Also, and this is super-cool, they're providing a free audio version of the complete magazine every week. So I can listen to it while I do yoga! (side note: I know that a lot of people do yoga for the meditative benefits, and listening to the news during Downward Dog sounds sacreligious, but I do yoga to help my muscles, and sometimes I get bored)
That about sums up what's going through my head right now. That, and when did August slip away?!
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Super Cool Library Find
I was browsing through the library shelves tonight, waiting for a hailstorm to pass (sidenote: hail?! in August?! that dents my car?!), and I found the perfect addition to the R.I.P Challenge II:
Witches' Brew: Horror and Supernatural Stories by Women
It's an out-of-print book edited by Marcia Muller and Bill Pronzini with a super-corny cover. But take a look at the table of contents...
"The Haunted Chamer" by Ann Radcliffe
"The Last Man" by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
"The Yellow Wall Paper" by Charlotte Perkins Gilman
"The Striding Place" by Gertrude Atherton
"Afterward" by Edith Wharton
"Where Their Fire Is Not Quenched" by May Sinclair
"The Lamp" by Agatha Christie
"The Gray Men" by Rebecca West
"The Cyprian Cat" by Dorothy L. Sayers
"A Haunted House" by Virginia Woolf
"The Idol of the Flies" by Jane Rice
"Judgement Day" by Flannery O'Connor
"The Birds" by Daphne du Marier
"Night Court" by Mary Elizabeth Counselman
"The Lovley House" by Shirley Jackson
"Kindling Point" by Marcia Muller
"The Bingo Master" by Joyce Carol Oates
I was stunned to see how many kickass writers, across such a wide time span, were collected. My hat is off to the editors, and I cannot wait for September to begin! For those of you doing the Short Story Sunday Peril, I recommend looking this book up in your library! The only question will be how to decide which ones to talk about. :)
In unrelated news, I've officially given up on The Instance of the Fingerpost, at least for a few months. I'm substituting the P.D. James I reviewed earlier as my last Summer Mystery Challenge read. I concede defeat.
Witches' Brew: Horror and Supernatural Stories by Women
It's an out-of-print book edited by Marcia Muller and Bill Pronzini with a super-corny cover. But take a look at the table of contents...
"The Haunted Chamer" by Ann Radcliffe
"The Last Man" by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
"The Yellow Wall Paper" by Charlotte Perkins Gilman
"The Striding Place" by Gertrude Atherton
"Afterward" by Edith Wharton
"Where Their Fire Is Not Quenched" by May Sinclair
"The Lamp" by Agatha Christie
"The Gray Men" by Rebecca West
"The Cyprian Cat" by Dorothy L. Sayers
"A Haunted House" by Virginia Woolf
"The Idol of the Flies" by Jane Rice
"Judgement Day" by Flannery O'Connor
"The Birds" by Daphne du Marier
"Night Court" by Mary Elizabeth Counselman
"The Lovley House" by Shirley Jackson
"Kindling Point" by Marcia Muller
"The Bingo Master" by Joyce Carol Oates
I was stunned to see how many kickass writers, across such a wide time span, were collected. My hat is off to the editors, and I cannot wait for September to begin! For those of you doing the Short Story Sunday Peril, I recommend looking this book up in your library! The only question will be how to decide which ones to talk about. :)
In unrelated news, I've officially given up on The Instance of the Fingerpost, at least for a few months. I'm substituting the P.D. James I reviewed earlier as my last Summer Mystery Challenge read. I concede defeat.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Book Pile and One Last Challenge...
I took a much-needed break from reading, blogging, etc. over the past few days. I don't think I've picked up a book since Friday. The slump was my most extreme yet: I couldn't work up an interest in anything. However, if there's anything that can get you out of a slump, it's a ton of new book mooches!
From the lovely booklogged, Bethlehem Road by Anne Perry (I enjoy her historical mysteries), Deep South by Nevada Barr (since Maggie's challenge, I've been looking for more Southern reading), Find a Stranger, Say Goodbye by Lois Lowry (I love The Giver), and The Modular Brain by Restak (for my ongoing non-fic effort). In addition, Fast Food Nation, Stiff, and Reason for Hope by Jane Goodall are part of my non-fic reading. The Chesterton, Sarton, and Bowen are for the Outmoded Challenge. The War of the Saints by Jorge Amado is for my Reading Across Borders seqeul challenge, as is Train to Pakistan (inspired by a highly praising post on Lotus Reads). Finally, Tipping the Velvet, based on Danielle's reviews of Fingersmith by the same author over at A Work in Progress. Whew-that's a lot of books!
Along with books, I also need to catch up on all the blogs, so I'll be doing that over the next few days. :)
Speaking of which, Carl has the R.I.P II challenge up! I'm so excited; I wasn't around for the challenge last year, but it seems like I've been reading about it forever. And I adore the button. I'm doing Peril the First, and I'll be reading:
The House Next Door by Anne Rivers Siddons, which superfastreader recommended earlier this year,
Seven Gothic Tales by Isak Dinesen, because I loved Out of Africa,
Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury, which some of the other participants are reading, and which sounds really interesting,
and The Ghost Writer by John Harwood, which I saw recommended on a blog (I'm blanking on which one). I'm mooching all of them. Very excited.
Anyway, I'm glad that I'm out of my reading slump, and I'm counting down the days until September, when most of these challenges begin!
From the lovely booklogged, Bethlehem Road by Anne Perry (I enjoy her historical mysteries), Deep South by Nevada Barr (since Maggie's challenge, I've been looking for more Southern reading), Find a Stranger, Say Goodbye by Lois Lowry (I love The Giver), and The Modular Brain by Restak (for my ongoing non-fic effort). In addition, Fast Food Nation, Stiff, and Reason for Hope by Jane Goodall are part of my non-fic reading. The Chesterton, Sarton, and Bowen are for the Outmoded Challenge. The War of the Saints by Jorge Amado is for my Reading Across Borders seqeul challenge, as is Train to Pakistan (inspired by a highly praising post on Lotus Reads). Finally, Tipping the Velvet, based on Danielle's reviews of Fingersmith by the same author over at A Work in Progress. Whew-that's a lot of books!
Along with books, I also need to catch up on all the blogs, so I'll be doing that over the next few days. :)
Speaking of which, Carl has the R.I.P II challenge up! I'm so excited; I wasn't around for the challenge last year, but it seems like I've been reading about it forever. And I adore the button. I'm doing Peril the First, and I'll be reading:
The House Next Door by Anne Rivers Siddons, which superfastreader recommended earlier this year,
Seven Gothic Tales by Isak Dinesen, because I loved Out of Africa,
Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury, which some of the other participants are reading, and which sounds really interesting,
and The Ghost Writer by John Harwood, which I saw recommended on a blog (I'm blanking on which one). I'm mooching all of them. Very excited.
Anyway, I'm glad that I'm out of my reading slump, and I'm counting down the days until September, when most of these challenges begin!
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