David Dennington's Blog, page 4
July 17, 2018
UPDATED REVIEW: A TOWN LIKE ALICE by NEVIL SHUTE.
I am now posting a more in depth review of this wonderful novel.
This book has to be one of the great love stories of all time. It is based on true events which happened in Sumatra during WW2 when a group of European women were forced by the Japanese to march for thousands of miles. This is one of Nevil Shute’s best loved novels and one which I read as a teenager. I admired Nevil Shute’s writing and his close association with aviation. He was a practical man with imagination and wrote about what he knew best in his quiet unassuming way. This book, along with others, was made into a movie in the fifties starring the great Australian actor, Peter Finch as Joe Harman the Australian cattleman from the outback. Virginia McKenna plays the lead role as the English heroine, Jean Paget. A TV minis series was also made during the eighties.
The story is told by an English solicitor who is executor of a will which causes him to search for a woman who is the only surviving party named in the will. He finds her eventually, and she tells him her story of how she’d been captured by the Japanese during the war along with more than thirty other women in Malaya. Along the way, she meets an Australian and of course, they fall in love, but there is no time for a relationship to develop as they only see each other a few times.
SPOILER ALERT!
During the march, half the women die, of exhaustion, decease and starvation. One mother dies and Jean carries the woman’s child on her hip for the rest of the trek and when Joe Harman meets her, he naturally believes her to be married. Very concerned, the gallant Aussie steals chickens from the Japanese to feed the malnourished women. For this, he is crucified. The women are marched away with Jean Paget believing she is the main cause of his horrible death. The storyline is nicely constructed and believable with the POV switching neatly between the old English solicitor, Jean Paget and Joe Harman.
The money Jean inherits does not come to her without complications, since her uncle did not believe women were capable of handling money. She will get an allowance until she is thirty-five, after which time she will inherit a sizeable sum. The book tells the story of what she does with the money and with the careful management and advice of the old solicitor (who becomes her best friend and admirer). The story takes place over a period of more than ten years, between Malaya, England and Australia, but is never dull. As time goes by, Jean’s courage and unexpected talents are revealed.
I have to confess this book gave me a lump in my throat. I am English and I love anything telling of life in the colonies i.e. Somerset Maugham et al. Shute does wonderful job in his unaffected way of storytelling. The plotting is masterful, the characters uplifting. I’d like to see a remake of this on film.
This book has to be one of the great love stories of all time. It is based on true events which happened in Sumatra during WW2 when a group of European women were forced by the Japanese to march for thousands of miles. This is one of Nevil Shute’s best loved novels and one which I read as a teenager. I admired Nevil Shute’s writing and his close association with aviation. He was a practical man with imagination and wrote about what he knew best in his quiet unassuming way. This book, along with others, was made into a movie in the fifties starring the great Australian actor, Peter Finch as Joe Harman the Australian cattleman from the outback. Virginia McKenna plays the lead role as the English heroine, Jean Paget. A TV minis series was also made during the eighties.
The story is told by an English solicitor who is executor of a will which causes him to search for a woman who is the only surviving party named in the will. He finds her eventually, and she tells him her story of how she’d been captured by the Japanese during the war along with more than thirty other women in Malaya. Along the way, she meets an Australian and of course, they fall in love, but there is no time for a relationship to develop as they only see each other a few times.
SPOILER ALERT!
During the march, half the women die, of exhaustion, decease and starvation. One mother dies and Jean carries the woman’s child on her hip for the rest of the trek and when Joe Harman meets her, he naturally believes her to be married. Very concerned, the gallant Aussie steals chickens from the Japanese to feed the malnourished women. For this, he is crucified. The women are marched away with Jean Paget believing she is the main cause of his horrible death. The storyline is nicely constructed and believable with the POV switching neatly between the old English solicitor, Jean Paget and Joe Harman.
The money Jean inherits does not come to her without complications, since her uncle did not believe women were capable of handling money. She will get an allowance until she is thirty-five, after which time she will inherit a sizeable sum. The book tells the story of what she does with the money and with the careful management and advice of the old solicitor (who becomes her best friend and admirer). The story takes place over a period of more than ten years, between Malaya, England and Australia, but is never dull. As time goes by, Jean’s courage and unexpected talents are revealed.
I have to confess this book gave me a lump in my throat. I am English and I love anything telling of life in the colonies i.e. Somerset Maugham et al. Shute does wonderful job in his unaffected way of storytelling. The plotting is masterful, the characters uplifting. I’d like to see a remake of this on film.
July 15, 2018
INITIAL REVIEW: A TOWN LIKE ALICE by NEVIL SHUTE
I have just been told that I've rated A Town Like Alice with only 3 stars. Actually, I was merely giving a status update not a star rating. So, to put matters right and keep Shutists happy, I've upgraded it to five stars as I know it is a wonderful book and I am thoroughly enjoying it. Nevil Shute has been one of my heroes since I was a teenager and I've written a lot about him in my own book, The Airshipmen, where he is a major player and very lovable. So, apologies to you Nevil up there in your big silver airship R100 in the heavens--an awesome machine!
I cannot wait to read the rest of his books again as he gave me so much inspiration through his writing and his courage as an aviator. I will write a more in depth review for A Town Like Alice soon.
I cannot wait to read the rest of his books again as he gave me so much inspiration through his writing and his courage as an aviator. I will write a more in depth review for A Town Like Alice soon.
July 9, 2018
REVIEW FOR MIDDLEMARCH BY GEORGE ELIOT
George Eliot’s ‘Middlemarch’ is an epic tale about people, mostly middle and upper class, set in rural England during the 1800’s. The characters are complicated and evolving and, like the town, fictitious.
Eliot, tells the story from many points of view, allowing her to get inside many heads. In doing so, she proves herself to be not only a wonderful storyteller, but a gifted psychologist with an understanding of both sexes.
The main character, Dorothea, is outspoken, strong-willed and trusting, but on a path she has set to becoming molded and compliant. She marries an older man of the church, a supposed great scholar, a man of superior intellect she looks up to, but who reveals himself to be controlling. His pomposity camouflages self-doubt and insecurity. Through Eliot’s insightful character studies, we feel for these characters, sympathizing with their imperfections; Casaubon a jealous old fraud, helpless and insecure; she, young, strong, faithful, more clever than he. Eliot brings us the inner workings of Casaubon’s mind and his torments, not only that he might not finish his life’s written work, but maybe after his death, Dorothea might marry the man he despises, a man who is young, dynamic and good looking. He has observed a growing attraction between them, and this for him is intolerable. While Casaubon smolders, he thinks that even after premature death, if it should occur, he will find a way of controlling her, and punishing her.
‘There was no denying that Dorothea was as virtuous and lovely a young lady as he could have obtained for a wife; but the young lady turned out to be something more troublesome than he had conceived. She nursed him, she read to him, she anticipated his wants, and was solicitous about his feelings; but there had entered into the husband’s mind the certainty that she judged him, and that her wifely devotedness was like a penitential expiation of unbelieving thoughts—was accompanied with a power of comparison by which himself and his doings were seen too luminously as a part of things in general…Poor Mr. Casaubon! This suffering was the harder to bear because it seemed like a betrayal: the young creature who had worshipped him with perfect trust had quickly turned into the critical wife; a remark from her which he had not in any way anticipated was an assertion of conscious superiority; her gentle answers had an irritating cautiousness in them; and when she acquiesced it was a self-approved effort of forbearance.’
Casaubon ponders his own mortality:
‘To Mr. Casaubon now, it was as if he suddenly found himself on the dark river-brink and heard the plash of the oncoming oar, not discerning the forms, but expecting the summons.’
Characters develop beautifully – their arcs moving throughout the book. I especially like the beautiful Rosemond and Dr. Tersia Lydgate, a good-looking, young surgeon, a couple that fall blindly in love. What could possibly go wrong? Their love will see them through won’t it! But then again character flaws, come into play causing readers to become more curious and invested.
‘Poor Lydgate! or shall I say, Poor Rosamond! Each lived in a world of which the other knew nothing…But Rosamond had registered every look and word, and estimated them as the opening incidents of a preconceived romance—incidents which gather value from the foreseen development … If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel’s heartbeat, and we should die of that roar which lies on the other side of silence. As it is, the quickest of us walk about well wadded with stupidity.’
Other figures are complicated and conflicted too, adding to the richness and suspense. This is not chick lit. It’s the work of genius. The plot is intricate, weaving, twisting and turning in unexpected directions. How could life in rural, Victorian England be so complicated! But like Forster’s ‘Howards End’, Austin’s ‘Pride and Prejudice’, Hardy’s ‘Far from the Madding Crowd’, life can be a challenge! And no, it’s not fair.
The actions of the characters revolve around love mostly, as well as ambition, deceit, greed, possessiveness, selfishness, fall from grace, and of course, money and death. Eliot peels back their skins and lays her characters bare, showing their inner weaknesses, their hopes and desires. At times, she pops in and talks to us directly, which I found antiquated, but nice.
There are gems throughout Eliot’s writing, providing insight and worldly knowledge about life—a treat for authors. I often found myself thinking of situations in these modern times and saw similarities. Not much has changed and probably never will—given the nature of man.
Through her descriptive prose, one gets the feel of the country, the rural, provincial way of life, life on the land and horses, cattle and corn. One can vividly imagine, the wrath and dissatisfaction among the locals at the coming of the railways, as land was commandeered all over the countryside for construction.
Reading this, for me, was time well spent.
Eliot, tells the story from many points of view, allowing her to get inside many heads. In doing so, she proves herself to be not only a wonderful storyteller, but a gifted psychologist with an understanding of both sexes.
The main character, Dorothea, is outspoken, strong-willed and trusting, but on a path she has set to becoming molded and compliant. She marries an older man of the church, a supposed great scholar, a man of superior intellect she looks up to, but who reveals himself to be controlling. His pomposity camouflages self-doubt and insecurity. Through Eliot’s insightful character studies, we feel for these characters, sympathizing with their imperfections; Casaubon a jealous old fraud, helpless and insecure; she, young, strong, faithful, more clever than he. Eliot brings us the inner workings of Casaubon’s mind and his torments, not only that he might not finish his life’s written work, but maybe after his death, Dorothea might marry the man he despises, a man who is young, dynamic and good looking. He has observed a growing attraction between them, and this for him is intolerable. While Casaubon smolders, he thinks that even after premature death, if it should occur, he will find a way of controlling her, and punishing her.
‘There was no denying that Dorothea was as virtuous and lovely a young lady as he could have obtained for a wife; but the young lady turned out to be something more troublesome than he had conceived. She nursed him, she read to him, she anticipated his wants, and was solicitous about his feelings; but there had entered into the husband’s mind the certainty that she judged him, and that her wifely devotedness was like a penitential expiation of unbelieving thoughts—was accompanied with a power of comparison by which himself and his doings were seen too luminously as a part of things in general…Poor Mr. Casaubon! This suffering was the harder to bear because it seemed like a betrayal: the young creature who had worshipped him with perfect trust had quickly turned into the critical wife; a remark from her which he had not in any way anticipated was an assertion of conscious superiority; her gentle answers had an irritating cautiousness in them; and when she acquiesced it was a self-approved effort of forbearance.’
Casaubon ponders his own mortality:
‘To Mr. Casaubon now, it was as if he suddenly found himself on the dark river-brink and heard the plash of the oncoming oar, not discerning the forms, but expecting the summons.’
Characters develop beautifully – their arcs moving throughout the book. I especially like the beautiful Rosemond and Dr. Tersia Lydgate, a good-looking, young surgeon, a couple that fall blindly in love. What could possibly go wrong? Their love will see them through won’t it! But then again character flaws, come into play causing readers to become more curious and invested.
‘Poor Lydgate! or shall I say, Poor Rosamond! Each lived in a world of which the other knew nothing…But Rosamond had registered every look and word, and estimated them as the opening incidents of a preconceived romance—incidents which gather value from the foreseen development … If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel’s heartbeat, and we should die of that roar which lies on the other side of silence. As it is, the quickest of us walk about well wadded with stupidity.’
Other figures are complicated and conflicted too, adding to the richness and suspense. This is not chick lit. It’s the work of genius. The plot is intricate, weaving, twisting and turning in unexpected directions. How could life in rural, Victorian England be so complicated! But like Forster’s ‘Howards End’, Austin’s ‘Pride and Prejudice’, Hardy’s ‘Far from the Madding Crowd’, life can be a challenge! And no, it’s not fair.
The actions of the characters revolve around love mostly, as well as ambition, deceit, greed, possessiveness, selfishness, fall from grace, and of course, money and death. Eliot peels back their skins and lays her characters bare, showing their inner weaknesses, their hopes and desires. At times, she pops in and talks to us directly, which I found antiquated, but nice.
There are gems throughout Eliot’s writing, providing insight and worldly knowledge about life—a treat for authors. I often found myself thinking of situations in these modern times and saw similarities. Not much has changed and probably never will—given the nature of man.
Through her descriptive prose, one gets the feel of the country, the rural, provincial way of life, life on the land and horses, cattle and corn. One can vividly imagine, the wrath and dissatisfaction among the locals at the coming of the railways, as land was commandeered all over the countryside for construction.
Reading this, for me, was time well spent.
June 29, 2018
REVIEW: THE ASSASSINATION OF MARGARET THATCHER
A collection of dark, compelling short stories some sordid and foreboding. Sometimes her caustic sense of humor burns through. After devouring each delicious morsel, readers want to know more – but maybe that’s the art of short story telling.
“Sorry to Disturb”. The life of a married woman in Saudi Arabia. Mantel was herself, lived in that country for a time with her husband who was working there. Well told, but depressing.
“Comma”: Two lower working class girls growing up – bizarre little story. Perhaps some of it may have come from circumstances in Mantel’s childhood.
“The Long QT”. A sexy little story of a suburban couple and what happens when a husband messes around— sometimes a bit of groping and slap and tickle can lead to untimely death.
“Winter Break”. A clever little tale about a couple who go to the continent for a short holiday. A mishap occurs during the long drive to their hotel when something is killed by their taxi cab. The unfriendly driver puts the roadkill in the trunk. Readers don’t learn seriousness of the accident until after the couple have arrived at their hotel.
“Harley Street” is the story of a person who works in the reception of a doctor’s practice complete with lab for taking blood samples etc. Hilary describes the lives of those who work there, covering their human foibles in depth.
“Offense Against the Person”. A tale of a girl preparing for college. Her father, a lawyer, is having an affair with his young secretary. There are various seedy scenes after the complications of her father’s behavior—a common tale perhaps.
“How shall I know you?” A day in the life of an author. She is invited to give a talk to a literary group. Her hotel accommodation is less than desirable and seedy. Was this based on experiences from from Mantel’s early days? There must be many authors who can relate to this short uncomfortable piece.
“The Heart Fails Without Warning”. Two sisters growing up. One has anorexia and the story revolves around that. Depressing.
“Terminus”. A girl thinks she’s sees the ghost of her father on a train. Beautifully written.
“The Assassination of Margaret Thatcher”. A sinister piece beautifully written in her usual descriptive prose. An IRA man is bent on revenge of his terrorist mates who’d starved themselves to death.
Hurry up Ms. Mantel and write the third part of the Cromwell trilogy! No, shush! Shush! I shouldn’t say that; might disturb your train of thought. I’ll let you plan the demise of some other famous person whom you probably found equally distasteful. I’ll tiptoe out and leave you to it, gazing from your Devonshire window overlooking the sea …
“Sorry to Disturb”. The life of a married woman in Saudi Arabia. Mantel was herself, lived in that country for a time with her husband who was working there. Well told, but depressing.
“Comma”: Two lower working class girls growing up – bizarre little story. Perhaps some of it may have come from circumstances in Mantel’s childhood.
“The Long QT”. A sexy little story of a suburban couple and what happens when a husband messes around— sometimes a bit of groping and slap and tickle can lead to untimely death.
“Winter Break”. A clever little tale about a couple who go to the continent for a short holiday. A mishap occurs during the long drive to their hotel when something is killed by their taxi cab. The unfriendly driver puts the roadkill in the trunk. Readers don’t learn seriousness of the accident until after the couple have arrived at their hotel.
“Harley Street” is the story of a person who works in the reception of a doctor’s practice complete with lab for taking blood samples etc. Hilary describes the lives of those who work there, covering their human foibles in depth.
“Offense Against the Person”. A tale of a girl preparing for college. Her father, a lawyer, is having an affair with his young secretary. There are various seedy scenes after the complications of her father’s behavior—a common tale perhaps.
“How shall I know you?” A day in the life of an author. She is invited to give a talk to a literary group. Her hotel accommodation is less than desirable and seedy. Was this based on experiences from from Mantel’s early days? There must be many authors who can relate to this short uncomfortable piece.
“The Heart Fails Without Warning”. Two sisters growing up. One has anorexia and the story revolves around that. Depressing.
“Terminus”. A girl thinks she’s sees the ghost of her father on a train. Beautifully written.
“The Assassination of Margaret Thatcher”. A sinister piece beautifully written in her usual descriptive prose. An IRA man is bent on revenge of his terrorist mates who’d starved themselves to death.
Hurry up Ms. Mantel and write the third part of the Cromwell trilogy! No, shush! Shush! I shouldn’t say that; might disturb your train of thought. I’ll let you plan the demise of some other famous person whom you probably found equally distasteful. I’ll tiptoe out and leave you to it, gazing from your Devonshire window overlooking the sea …
May 22, 2018
REVIEW: THE JESUS I NEVER KNEW
I’ve just finished THE JESUS I NEVER KNEW by Philip Yancey. I do not read many religious books. I cannot really answer why that is. I did read SEEKING ALLAH, FINDING JESUS recently, and I enjoyed that. In that book I read that the author after extensive research and receiving visions, became a Christian. I found it interesting that he told of how Muslims around the world are receiving visions of Jesus.
THE JESUS I NEVER KNEW educated me about a lot that is in the New Testament. But of course, I am left with more questions than answers. Jesus’ appearance is discussed and I found it is absolutely frustrating that He is not described at all in the Gospels. Perhaps there is a reason for that—a Divine reason perhaps?
I found it interesting how Yancey shows how Jesus was not really forceful, not on the surface at least. His power lay in His quiet confidence. He tells how the Sermon on the Mount and the words spoken by Jesus are impossible to live by—He set the bar very high. From it, I found that Jesus was perhaps setting us goals to live by, proving He was the Greatest Negotiator of all! These goals are out of our reach. They were targets to aim for and we shouldn’t feel bad when we fail, Yancey says.
I learned from THE JESUS I NEVER KNEW that Russian writers Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy, were both devout Christians. They were credited apparently with keeping Christianity alive throughout Communist rule in the Soviet Bloc, though it was underground. Probably the government never read such books.
Yancey shows a new way of looking at Jesus and understanding Him. It made me want to carefully go through the Gospels and read them thoroughly. There are disbelievers, naturally. I look at things like this: The story of Jesus’ life is a magnificent one. Even if you don’t believe it happened. But then, who would have allowed himself to be flayed raw, then nailed to a cross just to make an impression that wasn't true? And would his disciples, (knowing he was a fraud and/or a madman) also allow themselves to be tortured and killed in gruesome ways when all they had to do was to deny him (yet again!).
It’s a worthwhile read, and yes, it makes you think.
THE JESUS I NEVER KNEW educated me about a lot that is in the New Testament. But of course, I am left with more questions than answers. Jesus’ appearance is discussed and I found it is absolutely frustrating that He is not described at all in the Gospels. Perhaps there is a reason for that—a Divine reason perhaps?
I found it interesting how Yancey shows how Jesus was not really forceful, not on the surface at least. His power lay in His quiet confidence. He tells how the Sermon on the Mount and the words spoken by Jesus are impossible to live by—He set the bar very high. From it, I found that Jesus was perhaps setting us goals to live by, proving He was the Greatest Negotiator of all! These goals are out of our reach. They were targets to aim for and we shouldn’t feel bad when we fail, Yancey says.
I learned from THE JESUS I NEVER KNEW that Russian writers Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy, were both devout Christians. They were credited apparently with keeping Christianity alive throughout Communist rule in the Soviet Bloc, though it was underground. Probably the government never read such books.
Yancey shows a new way of looking at Jesus and understanding Him. It made me want to carefully go through the Gospels and read them thoroughly. There are disbelievers, naturally. I look at things like this: The story of Jesus’ life is a magnificent one. Even if you don’t believe it happened. But then, who would have allowed himself to be flayed raw, then nailed to a cross just to make an impression that wasn't true? And would his disciples, (knowing he was a fraud and/or a madman) also allow themselves to be tortured and killed in gruesome ways when all they had to do was to deny him (yet again!).
It’s a worthwhile read, and yes, it makes you think.
May 9, 2018
FULL REVIEW FOR THE DUBLINERS by James Joyce
I’ve just finished The Dubliners by James Joyce. I hadn’t read any of his works. This is a good start for anyone thinking of reading real literature. It’s astonishing to think he was 22 years old when he’d completed these stories. But I guess true genius shows up early. I see why he is so revered. I would like to learn the art of short story writing and Joyce is the master.
This book is a series of vignettes, snapshots and sketches. Just the ticket for those who want a brief read before turning out the light, perhaps. But all the stories have a streak of sadness and harsh reality of those years before World War I, so your dreams may not be so sweet. There are fifteen stories but I will refer to just three. WARNING: There are spoilers.
I loved THE BOARDING HOUSE. This covers the life of the boarding house owner, Mrs. Mooney and her daughter Polly. Polly starts a dalliance with one of the boarders—thirty-five-year-old, Mr. Doran—a man with a fairly good job—a decent catch. Madam will deal with matters of emotion ‘like a cleaver to meat’, as Joyce delicately puts it, especially where her daughter’s honor is at stake. No man would be allowed to abuse her hospitality and get away with it under her own roof. Like Polly, now sullied, Mr. Doran stands to lose everything.
ARABY is one of my favorites and tells the story of a boy who falls for the girl across the street, the sister of a friend. He is obsessed with her and she fills his thoughts for every moment, at school, at home. He sits by the parlor window staring at her door across the street. Love is painful. This story is relevant to all of us at that age as boys and girls who become smitten. Puppy love. Eventually the girl speaks to him under the lamp light. He notices every detail about her. Joyce describes the light on her body and her petticoat. She tells him she would love to go the Araby market on Saturday, but she has to go to a church meeting. Thrilled, the boy tells her he is going and will bring her something back. He now has a mission and a reason to get closer to her. He counts the hours until he can go after getting permission from his aunt and promise of money from his uncle. Frustratingly, his uncle comes home late that Saturday evening and has forgotten about his promise. His aunt persuades him to give him the money and let him go. Joyce describes the lonely train journey to the bazaar. He’s been given a florin (two shillings—about twenty-five cents in today’s money) and spends most of it on the train fare and a shilling to get in. Once inside, most of the stalls are now closed. Deflated, he stares at a stall with jars and things and the girl who he’d heard talking with two men asks him if he wants to buy something. He tells her ‘no’. Most of his money is gone now. He notices the accents of the girl and two men are English. Why? It just is. And it makes it all the more real. He storms out feeling angry with himself for what he realizes is a fool’s errand, for his stupidity and pride—one of those coming-of-age moments in a young man’s life.
Joyce makes the complex look simple. He does not explain anything and leaves somethings as a mystery. Why does he mention that they live in a house where a priest had died? Why does the boy live with his uncle and aunt? Where are his mother and father? We must presume they are dead. That is how things are in the boy’s life. And that’s how the best writing is. Things left unexplained.
These are stories like beautifully prepared simple meals. Every bite, every word, delicious. Of course, simple meals aren’t always so simple. Often preparation is complex, resulting in exquisite, memorable taste.
THE DEAD is reckoned to be one of Joyce’s masterpieces and John Huston filmed it beautifully and showed his own genius. The main character, Gabriel, takes his wife to a Christmas celebration at the house of his two aunts with many in attendance. Later that night, he takes his wife home by carriage in the snow and all the while he is feels his love for her, as he’d done all evening, and looks forward to making love to her at their hotel room. Once there, and after chatting with her, he realizes she is distraught. He learns of a previous love she had had for a boy she’d known when she was young and who had died, or willed himself to die when she left to live in another town. Gabriel’s own sadness and crushed spirit are evident as, with tears in his eyes, he looks out into the gently falling snow that must be falling on his wife’s sweetheart’s grave and across all of Ireland. The last paragraphs are said to be some of the greatest writing in English literature. John Huston’s excellent film maybe viewed on Youtube.
On looking back over The Dubliners, I have to ask myself: are these stories and Joyce’s writing so powerful that they could change how you think? Yes, I think so. I know I'll read them again and again. The more I delve, the more I see. It’s not really so much about the dreary lives of people Joyce writes about, but about the writing itself that conjures up a deep emotional experience.
This book is a series of vignettes, snapshots and sketches. Just the ticket for those who want a brief read before turning out the light, perhaps. But all the stories have a streak of sadness and harsh reality of those years before World War I, so your dreams may not be so sweet. There are fifteen stories but I will refer to just three. WARNING: There are spoilers.
I loved THE BOARDING HOUSE. This covers the life of the boarding house owner, Mrs. Mooney and her daughter Polly. Polly starts a dalliance with one of the boarders—thirty-five-year-old, Mr. Doran—a man with a fairly good job—a decent catch. Madam will deal with matters of emotion ‘like a cleaver to meat’, as Joyce delicately puts it, especially where her daughter’s honor is at stake. No man would be allowed to abuse her hospitality and get away with it under her own roof. Like Polly, now sullied, Mr. Doran stands to lose everything.
ARABY is one of my favorites and tells the story of a boy who falls for the girl across the street, the sister of a friend. He is obsessed with her and she fills his thoughts for every moment, at school, at home. He sits by the parlor window staring at her door across the street. Love is painful. This story is relevant to all of us at that age as boys and girls who become smitten. Puppy love. Eventually the girl speaks to him under the lamp light. He notices every detail about her. Joyce describes the light on her body and her petticoat. She tells him she would love to go the Araby market on Saturday, but she has to go to a church meeting. Thrilled, the boy tells her he is going and will bring her something back. He now has a mission and a reason to get closer to her. He counts the hours until he can go after getting permission from his aunt and promise of money from his uncle. Frustratingly, his uncle comes home late that Saturday evening and has forgotten about his promise. His aunt persuades him to give him the money and let him go. Joyce describes the lonely train journey to the bazaar. He’s been given a florin (two shillings—about twenty-five cents in today’s money) and spends most of it on the train fare and a shilling to get in. Once inside, most of the stalls are now closed. Deflated, he stares at a stall with jars and things and the girl who he’d heard talking with two men asks him if he wants to buy something. He tells her ‘no’. Most of his money is gone now. He notices the accents of the girl and two men are English. Why? It just is. And it makes it all the more real. He storms out feeling angry with himself for what he realizes is a fool’s errand, for his stupidity and pride—one of those coming-of-age moments in a young man’s life.
Joyce makes the complex look simple. He does not explain anything and leaves somethings as a mystery. Why does he mention that they live in a house where a priest had died? Why does the boy live with his uncle and aunt? Where are his mother and father? We must presume they are dead. That is how things are in the boy’s life. And that’s how the best writing is. Things left unexplained.
These are stories like beautifully prepared simple meals. Every bite, every word, delicious. Of course, simple meals aren’t always so simple. Often preparation is complex, resulting in exquisite, memorable taste.
THE DEAD is reckoned to be one of Joyce’s masterpieces and John Huston filmed it beautifully and showed his own genius. The main character, Gabriel, takes his wife to a Christmas celebration at the house of his two aunts with many in attendance. Later that night, he takes his wife home by carriage in the snow and all the while he is feels his love for her, as he’d done all evening, and looks forward to making love to her at their hotel room. Once there, and after chatting with her, he realizes she is distraught. He learns of a previous love she had had for a boy she’d known when she was young and who had died, or willed himself to die when she left to live in another town. Gabriel’s own sadness and crushed spirit are evident as, with tears in his eyes, he looks out into the gently falling snow that must be falling on his wife’s sweetheart’s grave and across all of Ireland. The last paragraphs are said to be some of the greatest writing in English literature. John Huston’s excellent film maybe viewed on Youtube.
On looking back over The Dubliners, I have to ask myself: are these stories and Joyce’s writing so powerful that they could change how you think? Yes, I think so. I know I'll read them again and again. The more I delve, the more I see. It’s not really so much about the dreary lives of people Joyce writes about, but about the writing itself that conjures up a deep emotional experience.
May 4, 2018
REVIEW FOR LOVE AND RUIN by Paula McLain.
4.5 STARS. Caution: there are spoilers if you don't know the story of Gellhorn and Hemingway.
Paula McLain is one of my favorite authors. Writing is like channeling. Scratch that. Writing is channeling. Paula M has done this with her new book Love and Ruin. I loved The Paris Wife and Circling the Sun and looked forward to Ms McLain’s latest book which jumps a wife, from Hemingway’s first, to his third, Martha Gellhorn. It seemed as though it was a case of ‘what goes around, comes around’ for Fife, the second one who had, according to The Paris Wife, stolen ‘Hem’ from Hadley who did not deserve it. Life can be such a beach sometimes.
I Iike the way McLain portrays both writers. She captures their essence. I felt at times that Gellhorn was just as self-centered as Hemingway. Probably all writers are--well most, then. They sit in their own little worlds pounding out their little darlings and we can’t kill them can we? And when the criticism drops like a wet blanket they feel as though they’ve had their throats cut by fools who just don’t get it. I think Paula conveys the goings-on in the writer’s mind very well – as she, of course, would know only too well.
Part of the tale tells of Hemingway’s struggle in writing his masterpiece. Strange thing is, I tried once to read For Whom the Bell Tolls and could not get on with it. Shows what a moron I must be. When the dialogue of Spaniards resorted to Elizabethan English I was put off. Now it seems I must revisit that book and try again—and maybe I will get it. Hemingway certainly is one of my favorite authors. I loved The Old Man and the Sea and The Sun Also Rises as well as his short stories. His writing from the twenties onward was groundbreaking.
Hemingway says to Gellhorn, ‘to write dialogue—listen’. I don’t know whether Paula M put these words in Hemingway’s mouth, or whether she found a real quote, but I know it to be true. When a writer listens, it becomes like taking dictation. I also enjoyed McLain’s description of Gellhorn writing ‘The End’ when she’d finished one of her novels and showing it as a great moment. To write these words is an incredible moment for a writer, especially for their first book, as is later holding the work in book-form for the first time. These were just some small things I enjoyed which Ms. McLain made real.
Paula McLain brought the section covering Cuba to life—the sea, the air and the landscape. She captured the feel of the Caribbean, Florida and Cuba. You see the smooth, warm water and feel the clammy air early in the mornings as the sun peaks above the horizon and hangs over the sea. Those were times I loved best myself. You savor the moment. You know it’s going to be a hot one.
I’ve stood in Hemingway’s house in Key West and seen his cats (their offspring). Now this book has made me want to visit the Finca, the house Gellhorn refurbished and made into their home in Cuba, I think a place where Hemingway was never happier—that is, until Gellhorn went off to traipse the battle fields of Finland and Europe. This he found disloyal. He needed her beside him. But two writers under one roof, each wanting the limelight and the adulation of the world’s readers were bound to have a falling out, eventually. And they did. Hemingway took his revenge, by stealing the sponsor of her war reporting. After all, wouldn’t any magazine rather have the great Hemingway sending reports from the war zones rather than Gellhorn? Even though by now, she was a highly respected war correspondent. It was all about ratings and the bottom line. Later, in London she learns of his new love—who would become his fourth and last wife. It's like a knife in the her heart. Shucks, so many women and so little time for ‘Hem’. But then later, his demons finished him off with a double-barreled shotgun before dawn at his house in Idaho. Was this another case of ‘what goes around, comes around’? Strangely, Martha Gellhorn finished herself off with a pill forty years later—likely due to her cancerous condition. All the trials, tribulations and suffering of life are made real. Congratulations, Paula Mclain.
I was awarded this book in a giveaway, so thank you Ballantine Books and thank you Paula McLain. I must have enjoyed this book. I started it Tuesday and finished it Thursday … and I am no speed reader.
Paula McLain is one of my favorite authors. Writing is like channeling. Scratch that. Writing is channeling. Paula M has done this with her new book Love and Ruin. I loved The Paris Wife and Circling the Sun and looked forward to Ms McLain’s latest book which jumps a wife, from Hemingway’s first, to his third, Martha Gellhorn. It seemed as though it was a case of ‘what goes around, comes around’ for Fife, the second one who had, according to The Paris Wife, stolen ‘Hem’ from Hadley who did not deserve it. Life can be such a beach sometimes.
I Iike the way McLain portrays both writers. She captures their essence. I felt at times that Gellhorn was just as self-centered as Hemingway. Probably all writers are--well most, then. They sit in their own little worlds pounding out their little darlings and we can’t kill them can we? And when the criticism drops like a wet blanket they feel as though they’ve had their throats cut by fools who just don’t get it. I think Paula conveys the goings-on in the writer’s mind very well – as she, of course, would know only too well.
Part of the tale tells of Hemingway’s struggle in writing his masterpiece. Strange thing is, I tried once to read For Whom the Bell Tolls and could not get on with it. Shows what a moron I must be. When the dialogue of Spaniards resorted to Elizabethan English I was put off. Now it seems I must revisit that book and try again—and maybe I will get it. Hemingway certainly is one of my favorite authors. I loved The Old Man and the Sea and The Sun Also Rises as well as his short stories. His writing from the twenties onward was groundbreaking.
Hemingway says to Gellhorn, ‘to write dialogue—listen’. I don’t know whether Paula M put these words in Hemingway’s mouth, or whether she found a real quote, but I know it to be true. When a writer listens, it becomes like taking dictation. I also enjoyed McLain’s description of Gellhorn writing ‘The End’ when she’d finished one of her novels and showing it as a great moment. To write these words is an incredible moment for a writer, especially for their first book, as is later holding the work in book-form for the first time. These were just some small things I enjoyed which Ms. McLain made real.
Paula McLain brought the section covering Cuba to life—the sea, the air and the landscape. She captured the feel of the Caribbean, Florida and Cuba. You see the smooth, warm water and feel the clammy air early in the mornings as the sun peaks above the horizon and hangs over the sea. Those were times I loved best myself. You savor the moment. You know it’s going to be a hot one.
I’ve stood in Hemingway’s house in Key West and seen his cats (their offspring). Now this book has made me want to visit the Finca, the house Gellhorn refurbished and made into their home in Cuba, I think a place where Hemingway was never happier—that is, until Gellhorn went off to traipse the battle fields of Finland and Europe. This he found disloyal. He needed her beside him. But two writers under one roof, each wanting the limelight and the adulation of the world’s readers were bound to have a falling out, eventually. And they did. Hemingway took his revenge, by stealing the sponsor of her war reporting. After all, wouldn’t any magazine rather have the great Hemingway sending reports from the war zones rather than Gellhorn? Even though by now, she was a highly respected war correspondent. It was all about ratings and the bottom line. Later, in London she learns of his new love—who would become his fourth and last wife. It's like a knife in the her heart. Shucks, so many women and so little time for ‘Hem’. But then later, his demons finished him off with a double-barreled shotgun before dawn at his house in Idaho. Was this another case of ‘what goes around, comes around’? Strangely, Martha Gellhorn finished herself off with a pill forty years later—likely due to her cancerous condition. All the trials, tribulations and suffering of life are made real. Congratulations, Paula Mclain.
I was awarded this book in a giveaway, so thank you Ballantine Books and thank you Paula McLain. I must have enjoyed this book. I started it Tuesday and finished it Thursday … and I am no speed reader.
April 16, 2018
THE MENACE - THE WAY TO VICTORY BY PHILIP GIBBS
This book is extraordinary, mesmerizing and compelling, written in beautiful, descriptive prose. This is the sixth book I’ve read by this author which reflects Philip Gibbs reporting from the Western Front as war nears its final stages during 1917 and 1918. His writing reflects the beauty of the landscape beyond the battle fields set against the complete and utter devastation of beautiful towns and villages, mixed with all the horror and futility. Philip Gibbs reported from the Front for the entire war. He was obviously a courageous and caring man who saw it as his duty to report what he saw—to write about the war to end all wars. Perhaps such things might never be repeated.
The Germans, having been pushed back for the last year or two, are now back and coming on strong, determined to drive a wedge between the French and British and push the British into the sea and win the war decisively. The Americans are about to enter the war and this could tip the scale if the Germans do not end it quickly. For them, it’s now or never. Things are coming to a head at home. The German population is weary and sick of deprivation and mass death of its sons.
Their forces are at the moment stronger, (two or three times stronger) than the British, since they have brought their Eastern Front troops to the Western Front after the capitulation of Russia. However, the British forces, comprising, English, Irish, Scottish, Welsh, New Zealanders, Australians, Canadians, South Africans and Indians, do not yield easily and continually pound away with devastating artillery, rifles, machine guns, and bombs, bayonets, and even fists. The British are now superior in the air, constantly bombing, strafing, and sending back information of the location of massing German troops. This information is used by the field batteries to wipe out whole divisions of the enemy. But still Germany attacks, continuing to send in its young men for slaughter on a daily basis. The death toll mounts to inhuman levels.
The Germans keep coming in overwhelming force and Gibbs watches the horrific events unfolding. The British spirits are high, despite gradual retreat as they continually fight heroic rear guard actions. German moral is sinking as their dead pile up around them. The soldiers see it as not worth the cost and pointless—but to the German High Command they are nothing more than expendable war material. For the British, it is absolutely necessary to hold the line. If the enemy is successful, Britain will be next.
Gibbs speaks of German losses: "Out of all this intense fighting one thing is clear, the enemy is now making slow progress and that every attack is costing him an immense price. God knows how long he will fling his men into this massacre. ... As an onlooker I have been caught up in these tides for hundreds of kilometres from south to north, and the spirit of these armies on the move seems almost visible, as though all emotion in these men's hearts were vibrant about one. Men who have just moved up to hold the lines are hoping for an attack, so that they can smash more enemy divisions. Anger moves in them because the enemy threw us back in places by overwhelming odds. Now they swear he will be stopped and broken. Their own losses do not make them mournful. They wipe out of their minds for the time the horrors and tragedy they have seen. Fierce exultation at the destruction of the enemy, grim pride in repulsing his bloodiest attacks, resolution to pay back and take back have changed the gentlest fellow into a man who handles his rifle or machine-gun with a secret promise to himself, ready to stop with his own body another German advance. Passion has taken possession of our men, because they know that if the enemy broke through them, all they have fought for would be jeopardized, and this four years of war would have been in vain for us. That seems to me the only explanation of things that have been done by masses of our men, or by small bodies isolated in rear-guard actions—astounding things in endurance and sacrifice."
For his heroic work for the entire war, Philip Gibbs was knighted by the King. I hope the second part of this book is published on Kindle soon as it will be interesting to get his account on the ending of the war and its final battles.
The Germans, having been pushed back for the last year or two, are now back and coming on strong, determined to drive a wedge between the French and British and push the British into the sea and win the war decisively. The Americans are about to enter the war and this could tip the scale if the Germans do not end it quickly. For them, it’s now or never. Things are coming to a head at home. The German population is weary and sick of deprivation and mass death of its sons.
Their forces are at the moment stronger, (two or three times stronger) than the British, since they have brought their Eastern Front troops to the Western Front after the capitulation of Russia. However, the British forces, comprising, English, Irish, Scottish, Welsh, New Zealanders, Australians, Canadians, South Africans and Indians, do not yield easily and continually pound away with devastating artillery, rifles, machine guns, and bombs, bayonets, and even fists. The British are now superior in the air, constantly bombing, strafing, and sending back information of the location of massing German troops. This information is used by the field batteries to wipe out whole divisions of the enemy. But still Germany attacks, continuing to send in its young men for slaughter on a daily basis. The death toll mounts to inhuman levels.
The Germans keep coming in overwhelming force and Gibbs watches the horrific events unfolding. The British spirits are high, despite gradual retreat as they continually fight heroic rear guard actions. German moral is sinking as their dead pile up around them. The soldiers see it as not worth the cost and pointless—but to the German High Command they are nothing more than expendable war material. For the British, it is absolutely necessary to hold the line. If the enemy is successful, Britain will be next.
Gibbs speaks of German losses: "Out of all this intense fighting one thing is clear, the enemy is now making slow progress and that every attack is costing him an immense price. God knows how long he will fling his men into this massacre. ... As an onlooker I have been caught up in these tides for hundreds of kilometres from south to north, and the spirit of these armies on the move seems almost visible, as though all emotion in these men's hearts were vibrant about one. Men who have just moved up to hold the lines are hoping for an attack, so that they can smash more enemy divisions. Anger moves in them because the enemy threw us back in places by overwhelming odds. Now they swear he will be stopped and broken. Their own losses do not make them mournful. They wipe out of their minds for the time the horrors and tragedy they have seen. Fierce exultation at the destruction of the enemy, grim pride in repulsing his bloodiest attacks, resolution to pay back and take back have changed the gentlest fellow into a man who handles his rifle or machine-gun with a secret promise to himself, ready to stop with his own body another German advance. Passion has taken possession of our men, because they know that if the enemy broke through them, all they have fought for would be jeopardized, and this four years of war would have been in vain for us. That seems to me the only explanation of things that have been done by masses of our men, or by small bodies isolated in rear-guard actions—astounding things in endurance and sacrifice."
For his heroic work for the entire war, Philip Gibbs was knighted by the King. I hope the second part of this book is published on Kindle soon as it will be interesting to get his account on the ending of the war and its final battles.
March 17, 2018
DUBLINERS by JAMES JOYCE
Now reading Dubliners by James Joyce.
I just read The Boarding House (in Dublin) and loved it. I want to learn the art of short story writing, having just completed writing an epic 660 page novel. And Joyce is a good man to emulate. Everyone shouted at me and told me to cut it to 300 pages as it would never sell. (Wait a minute how long was Moby Dick?)
I think there's a difference between writing for commercial reasons and for the sake of art. (Sorry that's much too grand and presumptuous!) But I wanted to tell the whole story of the British Airship Program—the agony and the heartache (not to mention the grief) of all involved, not just part of it. That's the beauty (and the price) of being an Indie author.
I just read The Boarding House (in Dublin) and loved it. I want to learn the art of short story writing, having just completed writing an epic 660 page novel. And Joyce is a good man to emulate. Everyone shouted at me and told me to cut it to 300 pages as it would never sell. (Wait a minute how long was Moby Dick?)
I think there's a difference between writing for commercial reasons and for the sake of art. (Sorry that's much too grand and presumptuous!) But I wanted to tell the whole story of the British Airship Program—the agony and the heartache (not to mention the grief) of all involved, not just part of it. That's the beauty (and the price) of being an Indie author.
Review: THE CHIANG MAI ASSIGNMENT
This is a nice fast paced read and a change from the WW1 stuff I've been reading lately.
I must first say I was drawn to this irresistible cover! Again!
In this, the second book of the trilogy, POV has changed from first person to omniscient. We are now able see what’s going in London and in the camps and behind enemy lines in the hot, snake-ridden jungle and along the banks of the crocodile-infested river.
The continuing story twists and turns in this way and that, with wheels within wheels turning in different directions. You just can’t trust anybody in the intelligence and drug-smuggling community! I cannot say too much about the storyline of this or the first book, since just about anything will give things away, and whether or not Mike gets the girl. There is some of the ‘man finds girl, man loses girl, man finds girl again thing’ going on. This book is a little steamier and once again builds to a nail-biting climax—I can’t say conclusion since it leaves some threads open for the third book.
Frank Hurst’s writing leaves the reader with the impression that he must have real inside knowledge and experience of customs operations and the drug import/export business as well as with those swampy regions of Thailand. I have no doubt that Frank is working hard somewhere in a hut somewhere in Thailand on the last book, so we’ll be able to rest easy knowing England is safe and these characters’ forever-challenged love lives are intact and they may go on to live happily ever after. Or will they?
I must first say I was drawn to this irresistible cover! Again!
In this, the second book of the trilogy, POV has changed from first person to omniscient. We are now able see what’s going in London and in the camps and behind enemy lines in the hot, snake-ridden jungle and along the banks of the crocodile-infested river.
The continuing story twists and turns in this way and that, with wheels within wheels turning in different directions. You just can’t trust anybody in the intelligence and drug-smuggling community! I cannot say too much about the storyline of this or the first book, since just about anything will give things away, and whether or not Mike gets the girl. There is some of the ‘man finds girl, man loses girl, man finds girl again thing’ going on. This book is a little steamier and once again builds to a nail-biting climax—I can’t say conclusion since it leaves some threads open for the third book.
Frank Hurst’s writing leaves the reader with the impression that he must have real inside knowledge and experience of customs operations and the drug import/export business as well as with those swampy regions of Thailand. I have no doubt that Frank is working hard somewhere in a hut somewhere in Thailand on the last book, so we’ll be able to rest easy knowing England is safe and these characters’ forever-challenged love lives are intact and they may go on to live happily ever after. Or will they?
