Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys

Read: 10 April, 2013

When we read Jane Eyre in my Victorian Lit course in university, the professor mentioned Wide Sargasso Sea as an interesting further exploration of Bertha Mason and her relationship with Rochester.

For some reason – perhaps because I’d associated it with Jane Eyre – I assumed that Wide Sargasso Sea would be a large tome, something that would require a substantial investment of time, so I put off reading it for years. But when it came up in my search for books to read for my Reading Around the World project, I decided it was time to just bite the bullet and get ‘er done.

It’s a very interesting story, covering Bertha Mason (or, rather, Antoinette Cosway)’s childhood as the child of white former slave owners – rejected by the English as “Other” and half savage, yet rejected, too, by her black neighbours. She is hated by all as her mother, after a series of tragedies and mistreatments, loses her mind.

The story continues in Rochester’s voice after their marriage, as he struggles to understand this mysterious woman who is so different from the English women he is familiar with. Recovering from a fever, confused, frightened in an unfamiliar environment and with unfamiliar people, he turns against his new wife.

It’s an interesting story, and a very interesting companion to Jane Eyre. It’s a short read and interesting, though rather feverish in its stream of consciousness (it does, after all, show a descent into madness), but I found that the added perspective greatly enhanced my relationship with Charlotte Brontë’s work.

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Earth’s Children #5: Shelters of Stone by Jean M. Auel

Read: 7 March, 2013

In Shelters of Stone, Ayla and Jondalar have reached the land of the Zelandonii and Ayla must find her place among her new people.

As in books #2-4, Ayla is pretty much the most awesomest person ever. I lost count early on of how many times the reader is reminded that Ayla is totally gorgeous, and how many times other characters reflect on how amazing and wonderful and perfect she is.

The trouble is that the narrator makes these claims about things that we can verify for ourselves, and the things that the narrator says and the things that the narrator describes don’t always match up. For example, we’re reminded several times about Ayla’s fantastic memory, yet we’re shown her forgetting several things – things that I, with my pathetic ordinary memory, had been able to remember. For example, she forgets what she’s been told about the Zelandoni of the 14th cave’s prior issues with Zolena and has to be given the information a second time.

Another example would be when Zolena decides to start talking to Ayla about becoming Zelandoni while Ayla is trying to care for someone she cares very much about who has been gravely injured (no spoilers!), despite knowing that the idea of becoming Zelandoni is very distressing to Ayla. So even though we’re told that Zolena has a way with people, she seems to pick the absolute worst times to approach sensitive subjects.

And there’s a reason for the repetition. Ayla, as the foreigner, is the reader’s surrogate into the Zelandonii people. She conveniently forgets details for the reader’s benefit, not because it’s what her character would actually do. And this reflects Auel’s general lack of trust in her readers. Given the length of time between publication dates, I can understand Auel feeling that she needs to repeat details from previous novels – she can’t expect everyone to have read them in a fairly short period of time, as I have. But she repeats details from earlier in the same novel, as well. She seems to assume that her readers are incapable of remembering even important details. I don’t know if she was getting paid by the word or just genuinely thinks that her readers are idiots, but it made me feel rather insulted – and bored.

There’s less sex in this book than there was in Plains of Passage. In fact, there wasn’t a sex scene at all until all the way into chapter 5! This works with the plot, of course, because Ayla and Jondalar are now around people most of the time and can’t just drop trou and boink whenever they feel like it.

There is, however, plenty of lists about plants and animals that read more like encyclopaedia entries than parts of a narrative story. But it works. It’s what’s I expect from an Auel novel and I do enjoy the information she provides.

I find that Jondalar, in his exuberant monogamy (which is out of place in his cultural context) , makes me rather nervous. And Ayla’s focus on her theory about how pregnancy happens kinda feels like the big reveal in the next book is going to be “Ayla invents patriarchy.” I mean, yes, she’s biologically correct. But she seems to really be stuck thinking about her theory, and in this book, a social conclusion is introduced. Jondalar is having this existential crisis because women are the ones who have babies, so he feels useless, and the procreation theory is starting to take on a “don’t worry, we need men, too!” spin. I’ll just have to wait and see what Auel does with it, but it makes me nervous.

Anyways, I’m inching my way towards the finish line and just have one more book left in the series to read!

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Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs

Read: 22 December, 2012

Jacob Portman is wealthy, has no friends, and has the most interesting grandfather. Grandpa Portman had escaped from the Nazis in Poland, made it to an orphanage on a tiny Welsh island, joined the war efforts in World War II, performed in a circus, and travelled the world. Growing up, Jacob loved to hear his grandfather’s stories, particularly about the peculiar children in the orphanage. That is, until he decided that none of it was real.

Miss Peregrine is a delightful story about grief after the death of a loved one, and the conflicting emotions of trying to find out who, exactly, the person you so loved for so many years really was (and of the risk of finding out things that you may wish you had never known). It’s also about magic, friendship, responsibility, and the downsides of immortality.

The book was apparently inspired by looking at old photographs collected by the author and acquaintances. The special gimmick of the novel is that these photographs are integrated throughout the text. It adds something to the story, I think – helping to create an atmosphere. That isn’t to say that the text requires the images. The quality of the writing is very good, and could easily stand alone without the use of a gimmick.

Without giving too much away, I will say that the ending very much feels like it ought to be the middle. I think it’s great that we were given so much time to get to know Jacob before the action started, but it does mean that the book ends with something of a cliff hanger. The good news is that there’s apparently going to be a sequel released sometime in 2013, so we shouldn’t have to wait too long to find out what happens!

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The Woman in Black by Susan Hill

Read: 13 December, 2012

When the widow Mrs Alice Drablow dies, Arthur Kipps is sent to her home – Eel Marsh House – to sort through her papers for anything of legal relevance. But before he even reaches the house, he encounters the woman in black, and everything is changed.

I watched the 1989 film with Adrian Rawlins a few years ago and very much enjoyed it. It’s a psychological horror that focuses more on the creepy atmosphere than showing gross stuff or having things that go “boo!” So when I found out recently that there was a book, I decided that I just had to give it a read!

And I am so glad I did!

The book is everything I loved about the movie, dialed up. Right from the start, the atmosphere is so creepy that I had several moments in my reading when I was too scared to put the book down and get out of bed. Hill uses very subtle things (a noise, a woman just standing at a window, a thick fog, an open door), but weaves them together in a terrifying (and relentless) way.

My main complaint with a lot of horror is that it seems to confused “frightening” with “gross.” This is never more clear than in most of the torture porn/horror flicks that Hollywood keeps churning out. I like to be frightened, I find it thrilling! But I do not like to be grossed out. The Woman in Black is the first horror I’ve seen in a long while – in any medium – that sets grossness aside completely. And that makes me so very very happy.

As all my Facebook and book club friends will attest, I have been absolutely raving about this book. It’s super short – just 150 page in my copy – and a very easy read, so there’s no excuse not to give it a go.

P.S.: The final line (“They asked for my story. I have told it. Enough.”) is so absolutely perfect that it deserves it’s own separate mention.

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Derborence by C.-F. Ramuz

Read: 11 December, 2012

Every summer, the men of Aïre climb the mountain with the goats and cows and live as shepherds, while the women, children, and the elderly remain in the village below. This year, just days after they go up into the mountain, the mountain comes down – killing everyone, and leaving the village a permanent “summer village.”

The plot centres around a young couple, just married and separated for the summer. Thérèse is pregnant and must come to terms with idea of raising her child alone, while Antoine survives buried in the rock, eating crusts of bread and drinking the glacier melt that trickles down into his cave.

I grew up in that general area of Switzerland, so I really appreciated all the focus on landscape imagery. Ramuz’s use of language is very poetic, using repetition and other techniques, making the book a pleasure to read.

As for the plot, there isn’t really much of one. It’s pretty simplistic and not a lot happens, but I don’t think that was really the point anyway. Enjoy this for what it is – a picture of the beauty and wildness of the Swiss mountains.

Incidentally, if you would like to read Derborence in English, you can read it for free here.

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The Anubis Gates by Tim Powers

Read: 7 November, 2012

Brendan Doyle has received a rather strange invitation. He has been asked to give a lecture on Samuel Taylor Coleridge and is being flown all the way to the UK and offered at least $5,000 to do it. The mystery deepens when Darrow, a very wealthy but dying man, explains that the lecture is merely to be the introduction to an evening during which Darrow, Doyle, and several guests will be meeting the actual Coleridge.

Time travel is very difficult to write about. Between the paradoxes and trying to explain why characters don’t foresee what’s coming, it can quickly devolve into comedy. So let me just start by saying that Powers has done it. He’s pulled it off – perfectly and beautifully.

Apart from Doyle, there isn’t too much depth to the characters – since this is mainly an action-driven novel – but they are still interesting and entertaining. Of course, there are types: the woman posing as a man to avenge a lost love, the crazy clown/magician, etc.

But what I especially loved about the novel is how the facts to come are laid out early on (thanks to time travel), so the focus is not on what happens next but rather on how will we get there.

Unfortunately, the climax was something of a let down. While the rest of the plot seemed carefully planned so that everything was predicted through past (and sometimes future) events, the climax had multiple elements that just seemed to come out of left field – in one case, this actually involved introducing a brand new rule for the fictive universe. It’s almost as though Powers just got bored and wanted to move on to his next project. It’s a shame, because it’s a rather big blemish on an otherwise very enjoyable novel.

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The Terror by Dan Simmons

Read: 23 October, 2012

It’s 1847 and the Franklin Expedition’s two ships, the H.M.S. Erebus and the H.M.S. Terror, are trapped in the ice just off the coast of King William Island. The summer thaw never came and, as the men face yet another winter in the ice, scurvy and starvation begin to set in. As if their situation were not already dire, a monstrous beast is lurking out on the ice and picking off the Expedition’s men in horrific and gruesome ways.

The book is huge, over 700 pages in my edition, and the majority of it is fluff. What we know of the Expedition’s fate is horrific enough to have have stood without the inclusion of the supernatural, and been better for being shorter.

The writing style was okay, but did leave a lot to be desired. Simmons apparently struggles with dialogue, so that, for example, Doctor Goodsir describes Captain Fitzjames as speaking “not condescendingly” about twenty times in the space of a two page dialogue.

Crozier is described as having “second sight.” Unfortunately, this is introduced while he’s in a delirium brought by withdrawal from alcohol, well into the story. This was used to cover irrelevant things (like the Fox sisters), as well as some of the future rescue attempts. I realize that Crozier had to have “second sight” for the ending, but the way it was introduced felt far too contrived – shoe-horned onto the character rather than an integrated part of him.

However, despite its flaws, Terror did offer me the opportunity to find out more about the Franklin Expedition, and reading about the real details in a story format helps me remember them. Overall, I’d say that this is a book I’m glad to have read, but that I didn’t very much enjoy the process of reading.

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Amelia Peabody Mysteries #18: The Serpent on the Crown by Elizabeth Peters

Read: 20 January, 2012

Every good detective needs a special trait. Adrian Monk has OCD, Nero Wolfe is overweight, Gilbert Cunningham takes place in Medieval Scotland… Peters’ Amelia Peabody is an Egyptologist working in the late 19th – early 20th century.

I’ve long been something of an amateur Egyptology aficionado (and, in fact, was set on a career in the field for years before the insecurity of puberty put me off any “hard” careers), so I was quite excited to give this mystery series a try. Also, I like to start series at the beginning, but I picked this but up at a sale so I thought I’d give it a try anyway.

In this adventure, a widow and well-known author presents Peabody&co with a “cursed” statuette and claims that a mysterious black afrit killed her husband and is coming after her.

The mystery was fairly blah. The detectives do very little detecting; instead, they spend 2/3 of the novel having things happen to them, and then the culprits confess everything. In the final chapter, it’s revealed that Peabody had everything figured out much earlier, but she gave no indication of this at the time.

And, frankly, it’s not like the detectives didn’t have the chance to do some real detecting – they just sucked at it. For example, two of Peabody’s party spend days trying to track down fugitives before they even think of the possibility that the fugitives might not be using their real names!

The writing  form was also rather confusing. Some sections were titled “From Manuscript H,” but no indication was given as to what this might refer to. I suppose it’s possible that this was established in an earlier book, but it was rather weird, especially since there were no other section titles. Peters also made the odd choice of switching back and forth between first person and third, without any real reason for the choice.

All in all, I’d say that this is a fine detective story for a poolside read, but it’s not worth seeking out.

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Knights Templar Mysteries #21: The Death Ship of Dartmouth by Michael Jecks

Read: August, 2009

Amidst political turmoil, a man has been found dead in the road and a ghost ship has been found at sea. Meanwhile, the rebel Roger Mortimer has been sending out spies, threatening civil war.

I read this rather quickly while on holidays and the details were quickly forgotten. But I do remember quite enjoying it, despite being a little disconcerted by all the rape (and there truly is a lot of rape!).

Death Ship is a solid mystery with strong characters, and the historical fiction aspect is well executed. The violence, particularly against women, is realistic without being gratuitous.

All in all, a well-written novel and an excellent addition to any historical mystery collection.

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The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

Read: 5 August, 2010

The Book Thief has many of the common elements of a World War II narrative. There are children trying to grow up, to learn, to form friendships against the backdrop of hate and cruelty. There’s a Jew hiding in the basement. There’s the inevitable violent end of the Nazi regime, followed by confusion and guilt. But this story is told from the perspective of Death as he encounters, again and again, a little girl by the name of Liesel Meminger.

I’ve noticed that books written for young adults seem to be, on average, so much better than books written for adults. They tend to be more imaginative, better written, and far more thought-provoking. The Book Thief is no exception.

Like most books written about World War II, there was no lack of horror. There were times when I had to read through tears. There were also times when I laughed out loud. I found the characters to be very compelling and I truly cared about what happened to them. The writing style was fantastic and the gimmick of having Death be the narrator, which could so easily have become absurd silliness, was actually well pulled off.

I highly recommend this book for the young adult crowd, and I think that us old fogeys would do well to read it too.

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