Hmmmm....so where to begin with Nightwood. I think that general overall puzzlement on where to even begin mirrors my overall puzzlement with the book itself.
I'll tell you what I was able to discern:
- The story revolves around those who have "loved" a certain Robin Vote: her faux baron husband Felix, the very much in love but maniacally possessive Nora Frost, and the wickedly selfish Jenny Petherbridge. All of these characters are beyond obsessed with this woman, although, it's interesting that the reader doesn't really get a fair picture of why. None of the novel is told from Robin's point of view, so she is a bit of an enigma. The reader doesn't really get a chance to know her, other than the other characters' perceptions of her. And their perceptions of her are that she seems to want something but not want something. She doesn't want to belong to anyone but she doesn't want to be forgotten. She is aloof and easily loses interest.
- There is also one heck of a whack-a-doo, colorful, cross-dressing, intelligentsia, possibly transgender, often infuriating character, Dr. Matthew O'Connor, through which a large portion of the novel is told. Which is a bit misleading, because the good doctor doesn't actually narrate or describe the plot, but does a whooooole lot of pontificating. We're talking 40+ pages of monologues directed to one character. Which drove me a little bonkers (more on that in a moment).
- Apparently the book ends with Robin crawling around on the floor of a chapel, play-fighting with Nora's dog. Okie dokie smokey.
- In terms of LGBT themes, this book is clearly very far ahead of its time. While there is certainly a lot of text devoted to addressing why Robin is the way she is (and allusions to what and why the doctor is as well), and discussions about gender identity, the lesbian relationships between Robin and Nora and Robin and Jenny are handled in a very casual, this-is-how-we-roll kind of way. There isn't a lot of addressing how scandalous their relations may have actually been in the 1920s, so bravo to Ms. Barnes for creating such a dynamic for her characters.
So those are the only concrete things I can say that I actually "know" about the book.
But as far as everything else, there is certainly a lot more I could say, but I have no real sense of whether or not any interpretation I have of the novel is even remotely close to what the intent of the text was. Many of the reviews I have read about the book have called it notoriously difficult to get through, and that might be the understatement of my book-reading year. At one point, I was reading certain passages of text out loud to my boyfriend, telling him that it all felt like a riddle that I was not nearly smart enough to figure out. His first response upon hearing what I read was that it reminded him of Burroughs, which is interesting given that Burroughs called it, "One of the greatest books of the 20th century." So certainly something of him responded to something in it. And just as a side note, Naked Lunch was the only book I have ever started reading and didn't bother to finish, if that tells you how I feel about non-linear writing.
But that's exactly where I struggled so much with this book: the language. I found myself continually wishing that I was reading it as part of a college lit class so that I could have others to discuss with, and tease apart each chapter/page/paragraph/sentence to try to make sense of it and come to better terms with it. But it often infuriated me, again, particularly Dr. O'Connor's monologues, because in some ways it felt very forced. That it was pseudo-intellectual jargony garbage spouted by one character that was more a means for the author to elevate non-sensical writing to some kind of higher level, "oooo...this is what smart people talk about" kind of content. HOWEVER, I am perfectly willing to acknowledge that I JUST DIDN'T GET IT. Certainly, there were some gorgeous morsels of text conveying philosophical thoughts or just statements on humanity that I loved, and I feel fairly certain that if I were to go back and read it for a second or third time that many of the themes and concepts about time and death and love and obsession would gel more in my little noodle and I would have a much greater appreciation for the novel. But as the other reviews indicated, it was notoriously difficult....sigh.
But I love that this book challenged me. That it puzzled me and made me feel dumb. That it made me want to read it again. That it made me want to look up every obscure reference to things like the palace of Nymphenburg, lying down with Nelly and falling into the arms of Gretchen (I can only assume that's not referring to "It's Gettin' Hot in Herre" Nelly), and the History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. That in spite of looking all of these things up, it still didn't help me one iota to figure out how that reference made sense in the context of the doctor's diatribes.
So yes, sigh. I know a repeated sigh is not that illuminating to describe my feelings about the book, but a sigh is kind of all I can muster.
But to finish with one of those gems of prose that I latched on to and loved. I can only hope that if I come back to read this again one day, more will jump out at me to establish a deeper appreciation.
"In time everything is possible and in space everything forgivable; life is but the intermediary vice. There is eternity to blush in."
234 to go.
So for my vacation reading, I opted for Me Before You by Jojo Moyes. And it turned out to be the perfect vacation read, except for 2 things: 1) me finishing it within a week of our 2 week vacation, and 2) me bawling my gdamn eyes out on more than one evening during our travels.
For those who haven't heard a lick about the book or movie, the story is of Louisa Clark, a girl who is perfectly content with her small-town life in an English town known primarily for tourist visits to the town's old castle during the summer months. But once she loses her job at the café she had worked at for years, she ends up taking a 6-month temporary job as a companion for a young man, Will Traynor, who had recently become quadriplegic. She is initially excited for the opportunity and wants to do everything she can to be a positive person to Will, however, he despises her. And pretty much despises life itself now, as prior to the accident, he lived his life to the fullest with a big time job and extreme sports in all corners of the globe. So he is very resentful of the life he feels was taken away.
Through a series of events, Will softens to Louisa but she soon discovers that the 6-month period of her employment is tied to the terminus date for when Will plans to complete a doctor assisted suicide in Switzerland. So she wants to do everything she can to make the last 6 months of his life as joyful and wonderful as possible, under the circumstances. And in the process discovers that she has a lot more drive than she ever gave herself credit for.
The writing in the book was certainly quality enough to make it good, quick read. And the characters were so well defined. There were many facets to Louisa that I enjoyed - she was such an effervescent character in spite of some situations in her past and the complexities of her family dynamics. And the author certainly did a good job of making you really not care for Will but slowly bring him back in as a likeable, and certainly, sympathetic character. However, whether the reader ultimately felt sympathy for Will is certainly the crux of the novel.
When I finished reading the book, in spite of my hysterical crying surprisingly not waking my boyfriend up at midnight in our London hotel, the first thing I wanted to do was to talk to someone else who had read the book. Because I needed to vent and get someone else's perspective on the ending. But limited by my lack of an international phone plan on my phone, and the fact that...oh...I WAS ON VACATION IN EUROPE, I had to settle for a little internet searching in some of the fleeting moments when we actually had wifi. And I think I came to a place where I was accepting of how it ended and still happy with where their relationship ended up.
I even scooted to the movie theatre last week to see Me Before You before it goes away from the theatre. And there were surprisingly more people there than I expected on a Thursday evening, much to my chagrin, as I knew this would require me to keep my sobbing in check. But no worry, when washing my hands in the restroom and looking up at my hot mess, disheveled face, red-rimmed eyes, and snotted nose, I'm sure I sufficiently got my cry on to get some turned heads in the theatre.... The movie was mostly faithful to the book, but there was 1 big plot omission that certainly did change the narrative of Louisa's character. But I can see why the author chose to leave it out for the movie (JoJo Moyes also wrote the screenplay for the movie). It would have been harder to reconcile the way Emilia Clarke plays the character versus some of the darker situations of the character in the book. But I was happy with the faithful portrayal. And yeah, the tears.
So long and short of the book and movie - keep the tissues handy. And try not to wake others up or disturb other movie-goers with your hard-to-keep-stifled sobs. It's no easy feat.
I'm most of the way through Nightwood by Djuna Barnes and hope to finish it while relaxing over the holiday weekend.
Have a happy 4th!
Oh, and certainly one of infinite joyful moments from our time in Paris, was being above to see 27 Rue de Fleurus. And even to think of the greatest writers and artists of the 20th century congregating here, was just too delightful for words!!
The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas took me far far longer to finish reading than it should have. For only 176 pages, 4 months is not going to keep me on track for completing any kind of book lists in a timely fashion.
And I certainly started out in a fervor. I adore modern art and have a strong fondness for Paris, so to be reading the stories of all of the artists that I love living in Paris in the early 20th century and to really hear how they knew each other, interacted, who bought whose paintings, etc, was just too fabulous for me. I absolutely love the idea of their home/salon at 27 rue de Fleurus being this hub for artists and writers. It was just so brilliant to read about how all of these icons were ushered into becoming well-known, especially knowing their status in the art world now, nearly 80 years after the novel was written. Picasso, Matisse, Cezanne, Braque, Duchamp, Man Ray, Gris, Rousseau, not to mention Hemingway, Ford Madox Ford, T.S Eliot, Ezra Pound, Fitzgerald. These names are institutions now. It also meant that it was super slow going at first too, because I had to look up every single artist and painting that was discussed. So certainly slow going.
But don't be fooled by the title; the autobiography is of Gertrude Stein, not of Alice Toklas. The book is written from the point of view of Alice, but is certainly alllll about Ms. Stein. And it's a clever approach. Because I feel as though, if it had been written in the first person about herself, some things would have made her seem a bit egotistical, but when written from the perspective of an observer, it feels more impartial, so it's easier to assert one's impact on the art world and one's literary prowess when it sounds like it is someone else's observation.
And while I was initially thrilled with reading all about the who's who of early 20th century literati Paris, lemme tell ya, it got old really quick. In a nutshell, the book is 90% name dropping. And while time has exulted some, it has not been kind to others. And while I certainly researched many of the individuals named, had I looked into all of them, I would be reading this book indefinitely. So the initial aspect of the book that I loved became the reason that I couldn't wait to be done with it.
And I don't know if Gertrude Stein's style of writing is necessarily my cup of tea. She has very long sentences often with commas and punctuation intentionally absent, usually requiring re-reading of a sentence to fully understand the intent. In her defense, Stein addresses her own manner of writing and the process behind it. So I can appreciate it a little more when reading the explanation around it, but it still felt unfocused to me. And again, based on her own descriptions of her writing methods, there is intent and so much labor behind each word, but I still had a hard time seeing that. It felt as though there was so much labor behind each word for it to still feel chaotic. And while Stein was a passionate grammatical purist, this didn't seem to lend itself to readability. I was a little disheartened to see that I still have another Gertrude Stein book left on my lists, Three Lives. It's probably going to be a minute before I put that in my queue. And I don't know if it was just the copy of the book that I have or if it was the author's intent, but there are tons of typos in the book. I am assuming that this has been kept consistent with the intended copy of the author, but it's possible that I just got a cheapy copy.
It seems appropriate that I finish this book only days before we're going to Paris. I have never been before, so in spite of my not necessarily being super crazy about this book, it really was perfect timing. We're not staying all that far from 27 rue de Fleurus, so I'm sure we'll need to at least walk by to see it. Also appropriately enough to continue on my Paris kick, I watched Midnight in Paris last night, which may as well be the encapsulation of Gertrude Stein's novel (at least the dynamic of the celebrated artists and writers of the 20s hanging out...not the whole time travelling part...). So all together, I don't know if I could possibly be more excited for this trip.
So when deciding which book to read next, I had already chosen Djuna Barnes' Nightwood. And was surprised to see her name dropped both in The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas and in Midnight in Paris. So I guess it seems good that I'm sticking to the same era. I'm also planning to bring another book with me, but I haven't decided yet: options are Me Before You (my mom and sister just raved about it), When Breath Becomes Air, or We Are Not Ourselves.
Leaving with one last quote from The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas that I rather liked. I hope to have some shake-ups on the horizon.
"You should have one absorbing occupation and as for the other things in life for full enjoyment you should only contemplate results."
235 to go.
Everyone wants to feel connected to someone. Everyone wants to share what is in their innermost being to get it out there in the world. To have someone understand what is in their heart and really know and understand what moves them.
That is very much the key message of The Heart is a Lonely Hunter. But like the title implies, it doesn't always work out that well. That the heart may search for that person who understands them, but may never find it or may have an false comprehension of the other person.
The book tells the stories of 5 main characters living in a Southern mill town: Mister Singer, a deaf mute; Jake Blount, a drunken wanderer who wants to spread his strong socialist beliefs with others; Biff Branson, the somewhat detached owner of the local diner; Doctor Copeland, a black doctor whose life mission has been to try to uplift and empower other blacks to not accept the roles that white society has given them; and Mick Kelly, a spirited young teenager obsessed with music.
Initially, the story tells of Mister Singer and his friendship with another deaf mute, Antonapoulous, and their time living together and how devoted Mister Singer was to his friend. However, it is very clear even from the first tellings of this friendship that Antonapoulous doesn't really care about Mister Singer in the same way. He's a bit of a schlumpy, aloof, crude, character (I've never read the description of a character as "oily" so many times, and was always a bit grossed out at the description), but Mister Singer looks past all of this, heaping his devotion and adoration on his friend. (Side note: I suspected there was some amount of homosexual implications in the relationship of Mister Singer and Antonapoulous, but McCullers doesn't come out and say it explicitly. Which could have been due to the time it was written or could have just not been made explicit to allow the reader to draw their own conclusions about what kind of love Mister Singer had for his friend). However, Antonopoulous becomes sick which later manifests as mental changes as well. His cousin sends him away to a mental asylum, leaving Mister Singer heartbroken over missing his friend.
Mister Singer then becomes acquainted with the 4 other characters in the story, and they all seem to project onto Mister Singer whoever they want him to be. Because he cannot communicate with them other than writing short responses, all of their interactions with him are one-sided and they all believe that "he gets them" (with the exception of Biff. He's a bit more of a quiet observant of Mister Singer, rather than rapturous over him). But all the while, Mister Singer is really mostly puzzled by all of these folks - there are only a few chapters written from his perspective, so it was interesting to read about his character from the other characters' points of view, and see how much they idolized him without him ever really saying anything back to him. And then to hear it from his perspective when he really didn't understand any of them at all and really only wanted to see his friend who he missed so desperately.
I won't give away the end of the book, because I sure as hell didn't see it coming (I startled my b.f. today when I got to a certain part and yelled out "NO WAY!"), and there were multiple key episodes in the book that really swung the narrative. But again, all of the characters so wanted to not feel so isolated, and for some reason the deaf mute was the one they all turned to (which is so brilliant, right?).
There were so many other layers to this book: the delicate handling of race (I felt as though it was a very honest portrayal of how the different races saw each other and interacted), the loss of innocence of Mick, needing to believe in some kind of god or religion or principal. It was all done in such an emblematic way (so many objects, places, moments in the book stood for something else) with a really clear, straightforward writing style. I believe I have another book by Carson McCullers on my lists, so I'm looking forward to seeing how her writing style is within a different context (and it blows me away that this book was published when she was 23 years old).
So on I move to The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas by Gertrude Stein. This one should hopefully be a pretty quick read. But I've said that before and 6 months later gotten around to finishing it.
I still have to see Sophie's Choice too...that was on my to-do list over the holidays and it just didn't happen. I think there's a movie version of The Heart is a Lonely Hunter floating around out there with Alan Arkin, but I suspect it might be a bit difficult to locate. So I'll put that on my eventual to-do list as well.
236 to go. I'm feeling good about 2016...more progress will be made this year!
Post note: the file hosting page I tried out was not a good option, so I switched back to the previous one. So unfortunately, if you want to actually look at the lists, you'll probably have to create a login to do so. Booo....but that's the interwebs technology for you!
This Thanksgiving I am thankful for holiday weekends with extra days off where I don't have to do work, and while I have other "stuff" I could be doing around the house, instead, I can opt to do nothing but read a book all day. It's a luxury that I relish and don't do nearly often enough.
So I devoured almost 200 pages of Sophie's Choice yesterday. Confession: while I have never seen the movie of Sophie's Choice, I kind of had an inkling what her actual "choice" was all about. There have been enough references to it in pop culture that I kind of picked up on these (I'm looking at you Friends). However, in reading William Styron's work, he does a brilliant job of concealing the titular decision. The entire time, the reader is waiting for what the choice could be, and you don't see it coming at all. The way he tells Sophie's history keeps the reader guessing.
As a background, the story is about Stingo, a young Southerner who moves to New York to become a writer. He ends up living in a boarding house in Brooklyn where he meets Sophie, a gorgeous Polish immigrant, and Nathan, Sophie's lover who she is fanatically attached to and who is a magnetic and brilliant but domineering man. The 3 of them strike up a close friendship, where Stingo falls madly in love with Sophie but adores their companionship and understands the implausibility of Sophie ever loving him (due to her obsession and adoration of Nathan).
The story contrasts the telling of the trio's time together in New York with that of Sophie's history, which she reveals to Stingo a little at a time, often in drunken moments. Sophie was a Christian Pole who survived (just barely) in Auschwitz for 18 months. We learn all about her circumstances for getting there, her father and how he impacted her growing up, her time spent at Auschwitz, and her children. What is fascinating about how Styron tells Sophie's story, is that as the book progresses and you learn more and more about her history, she is constantly admitting to Stingo that she has lied about previous details. Many of these details are big ticket lies too (for example, her father being murdered by the Nazis defending the lives of Jews vs her father writing a pamphlet outlining why and how Jews should be exterminated). So her story is constantly being revised as the novel goes on and after a while, I couldn't help questioning her reliability all together. Is the final version of her story the "real" version or is it the one that she can accept Stingo knowing?
At the same time Sophie's story is being unfolded, we learn of the ongoing relationship between Sophie and Nathan, who have a passionate but dysfunctional relationship, with Nathan being a drug-addicted, maniacal individual who occasionally flies off into rages where he physically and mentally abuses Sophie and accuses her of cheating on him.
There is so much complexity to the story and so much to consider, but there were 3 things that I couldn't stop thinking about while reading the book:
1) The horrible guilt experienced by the survivors of the Holocaust. After everything they saw and experienced, and in many cases, things they did themselves in order to survive (often at the expense of the lives of others), once everything was over and done with, how do they reconcile that guilt? How do they live with themselves knowing that they survived and others didn't? How to they come to terms with knowing that they did some potentially horrible things at the requirement of their captors? Do they ever really recover? Do they ever feel as though they deserve happiness after that? All of these questions are the hallmark of Sophie's struggle. She finds herself in America a couple years after leaving Auschwitz, and all of the things she experiences couldn't be more of a contrast to her time there (she loves music, food, drinking which can be done in abundance here). Her character epitomizes passion - for Nathan, for sex, for life. But as she tells her story more and more, she seems to become more and more unhinged (as evidenced by her non-stop drinking) and the guilt becomes unbearable for her.
2) The role of religion in what was occurred during the Holocaust. The most significant of the statements in the book pertaining to this coming at the very end: "The most profound statement yet made about Auschwitz was not a statement at all, but a response. The query: 'At Auschwitz, tell me, where was God?' And the answer: 'Where was man?'". The questions of religion and morality exist for all 3 characters, particularly for Sophie. She clearly has abandoned God (or, more appropriately, she feels that God has abandoned her) in spite of her Catholic upbringing, but there are some significant moments where her belief in God affects outcomes for her (particularly at the moment of her "choice"). Anti-Semitism also plays a huge role in the book, obviously as part of the historical context of the Nazis and the Holocaust, but also as a struggle for Sophie (she despises her father's opinions on the extermination of Jews, expresses indifference for the Jewish ghetto in Cracow, but at a drunken moment admits how much she hates the Jews. I got the impression though that this statement wasn't honest, it was more her misplacing blame for what she experienced at Asuchwitz and lashing out at Nathan for his desertion of her). But talk about heavy duty stuff. But isn't it though? All of the events occurring in the name of religion specific to the Holocaust?
3) Which brings me to #3. The absolute horrors and evil that we humans are capable of, as evidenced by what was done during Nazi Germany. It's not that this is a revolutionary thought or anything, but when faced with the events in detail, I just regress to the basic question of "How?". How does this kind of evil become pervasive enough to allow the slaughter of 11 million people? How can that many people share the same horrible desires to enact the kinds of terrible things that were done? How can power allow for that kind of evil to murder others on such a scale? There are a lot of details in the novel about the specifics of Auschwitz and Nazi Germany (from the logistics of the camp regarding slave labor vs immediate death, to the specifics of the crematoriums, to the historical context of the Final Solution), which I can only assume are true (I didn't look up every detail, but I would imagine that Styron did his homework). And it's as though I can't even wrap my mind around it. That only 70 years ago, in a modern, industrial, "civilized" country, that something this horrific occurred. And I realize that there are horrible acts that occur on a regular basis in this world akin to what happened during this time. I'm not negating that evil persists today in just as terrible a form, but maybe it's the scale of it or the amount of detail that is known about the Holocaust today that just makes it seem so unfathomable. That kind of evil just doesn't compute in my brain somehow.
So overall, this book was fantastic. While my recap here is rather depressing and bleak, the story didn't feel quite that soul-crushing while reading, but maybe just felt that way in totality after reading. There were so many fantastic things that Styron did (they dynamic of the narration and how he often would "break" from telling the story while happening to telling the story long after it occurred, the foreshadowing, the qualities of each character) that just made everything about this book an excellent read. I CANNOT WAIT to watch the movie. I'm sure I'll have to make that happen before the weekend is over. I would highly recommend reading the book though. There's lots of good stuff packed on those pages.
So off next to The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers. I still have ~ 2 days left of a long weekend...maybe I'll do some damage on this book before the weekend is over.
237 left. Happy Saturday!
PS. I have slightly fixed access to the full lists of books in the right margin. You are now able to access the lists without having to login to a website. There are still a few more clicks involved than I would like, and I'm not certain how long this site will host the document, but I'll test it out for a while and see if it meets my needs...
It's amazing how having a more modern and relatable book can make it that much easier to read. I had actually foregone most of my possible plans in order to stay home cuddled with the book this weekend. And while I did thoroughly enjoy Jesmyn Ward's Salvage the Bones, and it was a quick read, I don't know if I would necessarily say it was up there at the top of list of favorites.
The story is about a poor family in rural Mississippi in the days leading up to (and including) Hurricane Katrina. It is told through the eyes of Esch, a 15-year old girl with 3 brothers, Randall, Skeetah, and Junior, and a largely absent, hard-drinking father; their mother died in childbirth with Junior. Their father knows that a hurricane is coming - he can feel it in his bones - and is making preparations and while the kids somewhat help prepare, they are also dealing with their own issues. Skeetah is taking care of his pit bull and her new litter of puppies and Esch finds out early on in the book that she is pregnant.
The pacing of the book was very expertly executed. There are mini-climaxes or intense scenes in almost every chapter making it that much easier to want to continue on to the next chapter (side note: I feel as though this is a key strategy used in a lot of modern fiction that I've read recently. I could rattle off multiple books that do this...maybe it's a good thing to keep the reader that engaged, but when I read the same technique so often, maybe it feels a little formulaic?). And while the writing was clever and well-done, sometimes the text and descriptions felt a little simile/metaphor heavy (title quote of this post as one of MANY examples).
There are a lot of things about this book that made me uncomfortable reading. Foremost, Skeetah fights his pit bull and there is a fairly graphic scene describing multiple dog fights in explicit detail. So while Skeetah cares for his dog to an almost fanatical degree, in a very maternal, loving way, I found it hard to reconcile him then being ok with her being torn to shreds by other dogs. But the author does a good job of putting this in the context of his love for the dog being primarily so she can fight, so she can win, and so it can be an ego/pride thing amongst his peers and others who fight dogs. Similarly, 15-year old Esch talks about in detail, the many different boys she has sex with and how she knows that it's the one thing that she's good at, which is a bit hard to read from a 15-year old character.
I totally get that both of these elements of the story show the realities of these characters and their lives (and similarly, the realities of many poor, rural families in the South). And I completely appreciate the author's willingness to go there and include these things that will make the reader uncomfortable, and her honesty about these characters' lives doesn't need to be all non-offensive and vanilla. However, I found it a lot harder to sympathize with the characters, particularly Skeetah and Esch. There's one moment towards the end of the book when Esch is confronting her baby's father and he mentions that her brothers know she's a slut. He uses the word to intentionally hurt her and it does feel harsh in that moment of the book. But instead of feeling that it was inappropriate, I kind of found myself thinking, "Well, yeah, she kind of is." Same with how the book ends in regards to the dogs; I won't give this part away, but again, I had a hard time feeling all that bad for Skeetah. And maybe this is the author's intent. And maybe this is a result of my own life and upbringing being so vastly different than the characters affecting how I view their choices.
What I did love most about the book, however, was the dynamic between all of the family members. That even though each of them had difficult challenges going on, they all showed so much love for each other. In spite of their circumstances, they took care of each other, looked out for each other, and defended each other. In a multitude of little ways, the relationship between these 5 characters was very real and very loving.
I couldn't help remembering those days before Katrina hit too. I was visiting my parents in Florida at the time, and I remember that overnight, the hurricane just exploded into this monster in the gulf and then watching all the horrors that happened afterwards, hardly believing that this was happening in my own country. The book ends the day after the hurricane rather than telling the story of what happens in the days and weeks afterward. And while it doesn't necessarily end happily ever after, we're-all-gonna-get-through-this-just-fine, knowing what came in the weeks after makes me wonder how these characters and this community really would have fared. Oddly enough, 10 years ago today would have been one of the chapters in the book.
On I move to Sophie's Choice by William Styron. I have not ever seen the movie. I always get Sophie's Choice and Norma Rae mixed up (something about them being female names?), so all along, I've been thinking that this book was something about unions and envisioning Sally Field as the main character, when in fact it's about a Polish immigrant played by Meryl Streep. And I honestly don't know much about the story at all, but I have a feeling I'm not going to like what Sophie's choice actually ends up being. But here goes nothin'...let's just wrench my heart out.
Happy Sunday!
Lesson learned: 600 page books of short stories might be the death of me. 1) Because it's 600 pages, and 2) because by the time I get halfway through the book, I can hardly remember the 20+ short stories that I already read. So I found myself going back through the stories and quizzing myself regarding what they were about. So maybe in the future, I'll have to read a book of short stories in conjunction with an full novel so I can break up the short stories and actually have a chance of remembering them a little better.
With that being said, I actually liked The Collected Stories of Eudora Welty very much. She is without a doubt a master of the form of the short story. The richness with which she describes her settings is like nothing I've ever read before. It's not as though she just pulls in a bunch of fancy adjectives or a few clever similes to describe something . It's a completely different approach to describing landscape, and nature, and interiors using concepts and structure that I've never seen before. And while I guess Eudora Welty is considered a Southern Gothic writer (although apparently she disagreed with that sentiment), and there definitely was a bit of a sinister edge to most of the stories, the stories definitely didn't seem as full-blown dark as Flannery O'Conner, whose stories I also recently read.
She also uses a technique that I like to call "writing around the event," where she tells of a critical moment in the story, but she doesn't just blurt it out and lay it out in such obvious terms. She presents it in vague descriptions, and then almost skips to the next part of the narrative without really telling you what happened. This is particularly true for intense moments (murder/death, sex) that are the pivotal moments in the stories (examples: "Sir Rabbit", "The Whole World Knows", "No Place for You, My Love", and "The Burning"). So much so that I often found myself having to stop mid-story and Google it to find out if what I thought happened (or what I could discern from how it was written) did indeed happen. And I really liked the idea of this. I liked the idea of not handing your reader the narrative on a silver platter, but to make them really re-read the words and conclude for themselves what was really going on in the context of the rest of the story (ok fine, so I cheated and concluded for myself after googling. So sue me). I would like to say that I will in the future try to incorporate approaches like this into my own writing, but I wouldn't even be presumptuous to assume that I could even remotely pull it off. My approach would probably end up seeming as though I wrote the story straight up and then just deleted a couple of critically important pages and just assumed that the reader could figure it out. Not a sound approach.
So one more book in the books. I'm taking a quick sojourn from my lists to read Salvage the Bones by Jesmyn Ward. I've found lately that I really miss reading modern literature. My mom and sister are both in book clubs and when I was on vacation with them recently, I had a twinge of jealousy when they were talking about all the modern fiction they were reading and how much they enjoyed this book or that book. When I'm stuck in either 1940's Mississippi or 1600's England with Shakespeare. I'm looking forward to reading a book in less than 6 months because I'm slogging through the content.
Onward! 238 more books to go. Ugh, I feel like I've been at 238 forever.
