Gail Gauthier's Blog: Gail Gauthier Reads, page 16

Wish I'd Been Listening More Closely

I recently learned that Kurt Andersen, who wrote Turn of the Century, a book I read and liked back at the turn of the century, is the host of Studio 360 broadcast on one of the local NPR stations. I've been listening to that for years while working in the kitchen. Now I'll pay much closer attention.

While I know I liked Turn of the Century, I don't remember much about it--just that I was concerned about a couple of characters at the very end.

I've Had Enough

I read serial mystery novels, particularly when stressed. After a family member died a couple of years ago and my eldercare duties increased for two other relatives, I read all nineteen of the Amelia Peabody books. I recently got started on a similar mystery couple series set in the nineteenth century, one that was recommended by Goodreads. It wasn't terrific, but I could get it pretty cheaply as an e-book, so I plugged away. I've just finished the fifth and, so far, final book. I can't imagine bringing myself to read more of them, anyway.

The fan fiction elements of these books became stronger with each new volume, and with the fifth one the main character might as well have been named Mary Sue. Her husband was a tortured, dark hero who could do absolutely everything, was stunning to look at, and was determined to save his darling wife from herself because though she was over the age of thirty she was just so impetuous. He was also constantly having to control his violent nature, gnashing and gritting his teeth and threatening to beat his beloved or lock her up.

Because, you know, violence is just such a turn on.

The female character just loved this stuff and could pretty much do everything, also, including whine.

Perfect characters (if you want to call these two perfect) lusting after one another is, for me, the major hallmark of fan fiction. In this case, these books read as if they were written by a fan of this genre, creating a woman standin for readers who like the idea of fighting with Heathcliff.

In this final book, the two main characters made me think of a nineteenth century aristocratic version of Lucy and Desi. "Desi, why can't I work at the club?" "Why can't I help with your investigations?" "What have you been up to, Lucy?" "What have you been up to, wife?"

Really, I have to find another series for the next time I'm stressed.

Is This Something Meaningful Relating To French Culture

I just finished Still Life by Louise Penny. I can't say I was blown away by the book, but a character made a point about the English/French issue in Quebec that I found interesting. He said that anglophones were interested in individual rights whereas francophones were interested in the group--protecting their language and culture.

I think this stood out for me because a number of years back I read an essay about the French Revolution. The author was discussing why the French Revolution became so bloody, with the revolutionaries sort of evolving and turning against each other, and the American Revolution did not. He suggested that it had to do with, again, individual vs. group feelings.

The American revolutionaries, he argued, were interested in "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness," happiness being a concept applied to individuals, individuals pursuing their independent idea of what happiness was. The French revolutionaries, on the other hand, were interested in "life, liberty, and equality." In order for people to be equal, there must be a certain amount of conformity, or at least some kind of universal standard to which are all equal. Thus, the essayist concluded, Americans could tolerate more individuality than the French could.

Were the character in a serial mystery series set in Quebec and an an essayist writing about the French Revolution saying something similar?

A Disturbing Atmosphere

I am presently reading The Cater Street Hangman by Anne Perry, mainly because I got it on sale for my Kindle. I can't say I'm loving the book, mainly because of the point of view switches--I like some characters more than others. But I think Perry is doing something very specific with the p.o.v. switches, showing each character realizing she/he has little knowledge of those nearest and dearest.

What I find more interesting is the incredibly oppressive atmosphere. The book has a late nineteenth century setting with middle class English characters who are incredible snobs. The snobbery leads them to live painfully restricted lives. The women, in particular and by far, have such narrow lives with such little expectation it's hard to imagine how they can tolerate it.

That's really the hook for me, waiting to see if someone is going to snap. I almost don't care who the murderer is. Will someone, anyone, break out of this nonlife they're living?

A Trip To A Library Book Sale

I have this weekend off from family duties and will be home cleaning for the first time in about a month. But I did manage 45-minutes at the local library book sale, where I scored a couple of books for the elder family members and two for myself--Still Life, the first Chief Inspector Gamache novel by Louise Penny. I've wanted to try that series for a while because there's a French Canadian connection. Then I bought Bruno, Chief of Police by Martin Walker, set in France. Yes, I've got a little French thing going this year.

My First Goodreads Read

I am fond of mystery series set in the nineteenth century. Goodreads recommended Silent in the Grave by Deanna Raybourn. I have to say, I'm half finished and finding it short on mystery and long on very slow romance. Very nineteenth century, though.

I'm Enjoying The New Reading Experience

In my last post, I wrote about sticking with reading The Elegance of the Hedgehog because I loved the way the book looked and felt. At the time I wrote that post, I knew I had won a Kindle, and I was wondering how I'd feel about that reading experience.

Well, I'm feeling just fine about it. I'm reading True Grit, and so far I'm loving holding that little mechanical device and just plugging away at those words. I like the buttons that move me on to another page. (I was about to say, "turn the page," but I caught myself.)

Of course, I'm not needing any encouragement to stay with True Grit. It remains to be seen if I will keep reading a book I'm less enthusiastic about just because I love to hold my Kindle.True Grit

"The Odd Moment Of Beauty"

Elegance
I finished reading The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery last week. The first third of the book was not an easy read. It was a lot of philosophy from two different characters.

What kept me going was that I loved the feel of the book itself. I had a paperback copy that I'd bought used, probably from a library sale. The thing was like new, suggesting its original owner found it difficult, too. It was an Europa edition, if that means anything to anyone, with a nice stiff cover with lovely over flaps. I just did not want to give up on this book. I wanted to read a book that looked like this.

Sticking with the story did pay off. I did finally become much more interested, and even found a few philosophical bits that meant something. For instance, at the end of the book, a character says, "...I have finally concluded that's what life is about: there is a lot of despair, but also the odd moment of beauty, where time is no longer the same."

I'm not so sure about the time being no longer the same part, but I do wonder if the feel of this book was one of those odd moments of beauty, and that is why I just had to read it.

Also, here is a nice piece from earlier in the book about Art (with a large A, which is pretentious, but that's how the author put it): "What does Art do for us? It gives shape to our emotions, makes them visible and, in so doing, places a seal of eternity upon them..."

Talking About Books You Haven't Read

I am reading The Elegance of the Hedgehog. It's a French book by Muriel Barbery. A twelve-year-old character describes discussing with her teacher the reason to study grammar. She freaks the teacher out by referring to an authority on the subject.

As it turns out, she's never read anything by the man. She heard someone discussing his work with her mother the night before. So she was talking about writing she had not read.

As luck would have it, a few years ago, I read a very good book called How to Talk About Books You Haven't Read by Pierre Bayard, who is also a French writer. This is the very thing the character in the French novel did. A coincidence? Or is this kind of discussion something the French are particularly interested in?

Of course, I read both books in translation. I always wonder with translations just how much of the book I'm actually getting and how much of what I'm reading is the translator's revision. It's not as if the original authors can tell. If their grasp of English were all that good, they'd do the translations themselves.

The Good Fairies of New York

Next Monday is Elf and Fairy Day at one of the children's lit blogs. The announcement reminded me of how much I hate fairies and how much I love The Good Fairies of New York by Martin Millar. I did a reader response to this adult book back in 2007 at my other blog, Original Content, because it was nominated for a Cybil. Read about why Heather and Morag are my kind of fairies. The Good Fairies of New York