A reference volume I picked up while writing an article on huldufólk, or Hidden People. Lots of useful context and historical information. Interesting...moreA reference volume I picked up while writing an article on huldufólk, or Hidden People. Lots of useful context and historical information. Interestingly, the back half of the book includes sections which don't dissect or examine mythological folklore, but rather speak to "The cultivation of supernatural gifts and second sight," a sort of how-to guide based on literary and historical sources. (less)
Not a bad collection, so far as I can tell—there's some overlap in stories with other noted collections, but still a nice variety that is not represen...moreNot a bad collection, so far as I can tell—there's some overlap in stories with other noted collections, but still a nice variety that is not represented elsewhere. The translations are nice to read—they sound like oral stories, which I appreciate.
My main quibble is that the introduction is quite short and doesn't give a lot of context to the reader. Also: the table of contents is in the back of the book, which I didn't realize until after I was done using it. That would have made it a lot easier to reference and flip through. (less)
Another book I picked up while researching an article I was writing about Iceland's huldufólk, or Hidden People. Dr. Simpson's introduction was anothe...moreAnother book I picked up while researching an article I was writing about Iceland's huldufólk, or Hidden People. Dr. Simpson's introduction was another invaluable resource for me, with great details about mythological beings and their reception by the people who would have been telling/hearing these tales, as well as further information on the collection of the tales in the first place.
I very much enjoy Dr. Simpson's translations—they retain an oral quality, for one. Additionally, each story is followed by fantastic notes and context, often placing a tale or a strain of tales into a larger thematic family.
A really great reference, and fun reading, too. (less)
This was one of the books I shipped with me to Iceland with the intention of boning up on Icelandic mythology and folklore. It wasn't until just last...moreThis was one of the books I shipped with me to Iceland with the intention of boning up on Icelandic mythology and folklore. It wasn't until just last week, however, that I finally cracked the volume, as part of research I was doing on Iceland's huldufólk (Hidden People) for an article that I was writing.
The introduction here by Terry Gunnell proved to be invaluable, with great context about the settings and environments that folktales would be told in, a characterization of huldufólk and 'huldufólk-lore' (my silly pun, not his), and information about Jón Árnason's collection of these tales in the mid-1800s.
The retellings by J.M. Bedell (those I've read thus far) are indeed engaging, as was his stated intention: "In an attempt to engage my readers, I kept most of the marvelous details translated in the cited texts...but retained the right to use all the techniques available to any storyteller of fiction—writing scenes, creating suspense and drama, and varying points of view."
My favorite huldufólk-tales in thus volume thus far have been "The Origin of the Hidden People," "The Father of Eighteen Elves," "The Elves' Dance on New Year's Eve," and, of course, the title story. (less)
My first Zweig, but certainly not my last. I obviously have nothing to compare to, but these two stories (or one short story and one novella) seem to...moreMy first Zweig, but certainly not my last. I obviously have nothing to compare to, but these two stories (or one short story and one novella) seem to be a great introduction to the author's work, both thematically and in terms of the writing style.
The writing is lovely—descriptive without getting too bogged down in flowery descriptions, evocative without being showy. Zweig's descriptions of characters are also wonderful. These people—the blind woodcut collector who lives in the German countryside and Jacob (Buch)Mendel, the obsessively single-minded book pedlar—are definitely 'characters' in that you don't really imagine them as people that exist outside of a book, but they also feel very well-fleshed out, very true to their own stories. Likewise, both of these stories feel entirely complete—their outcomes totally inevitable. (Note: I don't mean predictable, so much as fated—part of a greater, historical storyline that simply couldn't turn out any other way.) The first story, "The Invisible Collection," especially so—almost reading like a fable that you've read many times before.
Set as they both are in the years following WWI, or per the "The Invisible Collection"'s subtitle, "during the inflation period in Germany," there is also certainly a political aspect to both of these stories, although it reads now as simply being on the right side of history. Zweig, I recently found out, having fled Austria after Hitler's rise to power, committed suicide with his wife in Brazil in the early 40s out of despair over the state of Europe and the rise of fascism. And there is certainly a mournful regret that hangs over these stories, even when not mentioned outright (as it is on occasion). But overall, there's a touching humanistic appreciation within this work which balances out what are ultimately pretty tragic tales. (less)
This was my first foray into the Rebus series, one which I had been eying for a long time—not least due to its Edinburgh setting. Funny then that the...moreThis was my first foray into the Rebus series, one which I had been eying for a long time—not least due to its Edinburgh setting. Funny then that the one I picked to start with didn't actually take place in Edinburgh at all. No matter, though: A Question of Blood was a nice introduction to the character and his backstory, I think, even though it is a rather late entry as far as I can tell.
I finished the novel pretty snappily, without finding myself bored or distracted and wanting to jump over to other plots and books (a common problem for me). The interwoven plotting and snappy pacing are both work well, the characters and relationships clearly drawn, and the various intrigues all reasonably twisty. Good news all around. Personally, I thought the main subplot related to Rebus' suspicious injury (suspicious because his hands have been severely burned and a man he'd had altercations with died in an arson fire) was resolved a bit too easily, as was the internal inquiry into his possible role in a murder. Additionally, while it does draw out the suspense and the reader's uncertainty, the fact that he knows whether or not he's telling the truth about his involvement in the event but *we* don't know is kind of a cheat. It feels artificial, given that we are inside his thoughts for much of the rest of the book, but it's not written first person so I suppose Rankin can get away with it.
There were also times throughout the novel that I found Rebus' outsider status as your prototypical "loose canon" cop—complete with the wise-cracking, the disregarding authority, the inadvisable outbursts, etc.—a little forced. We get it already—he's a lone wolf (except he's not). No need to overdo it.
As a last side note, I loved the author intro on the book—the stories about the characters that Rankin wrote in after auctioning character rights and the anecdote about being pranked by a member of Belle and Sebastian. Good way to get a feel for Rankin's sense of humor and also nice to see how he incorporated a character that he didn't himself dream up from scratch, but rather had to work in as a sort of exercise. (less)
I loved the first Lovesey I read (Cop to Corpse, one of his Peter Diamond police procedurals), but this standalone just wasn't capturing me. The wrong...moreI loved the first Lovesey I read (Cop to Corpse, one of his Peter Diamond police procedurals), but this standalone just wasn't capturing me. The wrong place/wrong time conceit can be compelling, but it felt like a lot of red herrings beuilding up and I wasn't that thrilled with the main characters, so I decided to set this one aside for now...(less)
This book was a favorite of a great friend of mine (who gifted it to me in high school, incidentally) and I just now decided to dip back into it becau...moreThis book was a favorite of a great friend of mine (who gifted it to me in high school, incidentally) and I just now decided to dip back into it because I've been trying to do more narrative non-fiction reading and White's essay "Death of a Pig" was referenced by two different authors (Geraldine Brooks and Ian Reid) during a writing workshop I attended in the spring.
There are some lovely essays here—the paean to the pig, yes, but I was also in a bit of a country mode and really enjoyed "Coon Tree" (the bit where he realizes that his poetical description of how raccoons descend from trees is actually just how this one raccoon descends is great) and "The Eye of Edna." And, of course, I have a great soft spot for "Here is New York" with its nearly perfect first line, "On any person who desires such queer prizes, New York will bestow the gift of loneliness and the gift of privacy."
You do have to be in a mood for 'ol E.B., however, as he can be a great curmudgeon, grumbling about punctuation marks and those galdurn politicians and rambling on at length about his old wood fire stove and The Way Things Were. This isn't to say he's not a nice curmudgeon—he's a curmudgeon I would have gladly spent time with. But sometimes he takes on a sort of muttering, folksy provincialism that can be quite trying.
All the same, a wonderful—and instructive—collection when you're in the mood. (less)
There was a lot of build up for this book, what with it advertising that it was "by turns loved and reviled upon its publication," plus I remember at...moreThere was a lot of build up for this book, what with it advertising that it was "by turns loved and reviled upon its publication," plus I remember at least three separate people talking to me about it when it was first released. It made its way on to my shelf as a Christmas present (not mine, even) and being intrigued and at lose ends for my next book, I picked it up.
I read the first half of the book in two sittings over two days and spent most of my time firstly wondering at the fact that I didn't hate it (young hip and artsy people wondering "how should a person be?" can, you know, get annoying) and secondly, thinking of all my female friends that I would recommend it to. And then, well, I sort of petered out. The drama of the middle part of the book, such as it was, felt a bit manufactured. Everyone felt big, deep things and there were huge breaches of trust, but honestly, I couldn't figure out quite what all the fuss was about. Then, as the book came to a close, it certainly felt like something had been accomplished, and there was closure, but again, I'm not totally sure what necessitated the closure in the first place.
The structure is pretty interesting—episodic short chapters, sometimes written in epistolary fashion or as if you were reading a play—although I hated the numbered sentences in all the emails (not really a big deal, but why are those numbers there?).
But honestly, I'm not sure that this book is as genius or as indulgent or as insightful or as navel-gazing as anyone seems to think it is. I don't regret reading it, certainly, and I will remember things from it, but not in any sort of deep, life-changing fashion.(less)
I gather that Venetia is a favorite among Heyer fans, and it does definitely have a lot to recommend it, not least a witty, unburdened heroine (I mean...moreI gather that Venetia is a favorite among Heyer fans, and it does definitely have a lot to recommend it, not least a witty, unburdened heroine (I mean, she has her burdens, but she doesn't let them bury her), a smattering of enjoyable secondary characters, lots of banter, and the knowledge—within the first 30 pages—that everything is going to work out. But honestly, this one just didn't do as much for me as say, The Grand Sophy, Faro's Daughter (one which Heyer fans seem to like less, interestingly), or my all time favorite (thus far), The Masqueraders. It was all a bit too easy: the rake loves her immediately, she's immediately taken with him. Her antisocial brother likes him. Everyone has enough money. There are no meddling parents. All obstacles are incredibly narrative. You're really just waiting it out until enough pages have passed so that they can end up together.
Which is fine, really, but for my part, I've enjoyed some of the twistier plots and more madcap farces of Heyer's better. (less)