Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts

13 November 2012

Is Marriage Really Worth It?: "Middlemarch"

Book: Middlemarch
Author: George Eliot (or Mary Anne Evans, if you prefer)
Pages: 802, including endnotes
Copy: a Barns and Noble Classics I bought years ago (it's pretty ugly and it has tons of typos--find a better copy to read)
Read: I read this for book group, so I started it the middle of October and finished it November 11th
Spoilers: exceedingly minor ones--don't worry, I don't give away specifics

This book came with such high praise, I should have known I wouldn't love it. Almost without fail, whenever a book comes with recommendations, I dislike it. That being said, I didn't hate this book. I can see myself reading this book again in 20 or 30 years and having it make a huge impact on me. That's not to say that this book is meant for 40 or 50 year-olds. I think it has a lot to say to young people, especially young people who are in a relationship for the wrong reasons.

One of the reasons I didn't overwhelming enjoy this book is because I just ended a relationship I was in for the wrong reasons. This meant I read most of the book cringing and yelling at the various characters who marry exactly the wrong person for exactly the wrong reasons. That being said, I think this book has one of the most important quotes any young person could read:
She was not in the least teaching Mr. Casaubon to ask if he were good enough for her, but merely asking herself anxiously how she could be good enough for Mr. Casaubon. (Chapter V)
 That is the sort of advice everyone should get quite early in their lives, especially women. I think women spend much of their lives changing themselves to fit whatever they think their men want, and never pause to wonder why their men aren't trying to do the same. That's why I think this quote is so important to many young person, not just women. I don't think many men realize just how much women feel the pressure to change. (I'm sorry to hold up society's emphasis on heterosexual relationships--if anyone wants to chime in about how this dynamic works in relationships I haven't experienced, please do. I'd love to hear if it's different, the same, more complex, less complex...however it works.)

Now to the plot. This is a book about marriage. Unlike Jane Austen, who traces the courtship of her characters but ends the novel at the marriage, George Eliot explores the actual marriage. Courtship is basically skipped, but the marriage part is meticulously detailed. This is both tedious and endlessly fascinating. There are two marriages that are explored in great detail, and one was a great deal more interesting to me than the other, but I think the two different marriages need to be contrasted against one another. No matter how annoying I find Dr. Lydgate and his foul wife, his marriage contrasts sharply with Dorothea's marriage to Mr. Casaubon. If one or the other were missing, the novel would fall apart.

Eliot does have a few side issues she wants to explore, though, which means that several chunks of this novel discuss marriage only indirectly. One of these side issues is medicine in the 1820s and 1830s, a topic that is about as exciting as it sounds. A great deal of medical reform began around this time, but even Eliot can't make it that interesting. Instead, it boils down to petty bickering between the old guard and modern interlopers. Perhaps to those interested in medical history these sections will be funny or more interesting than the marriages, but to me they distracted from the main plot and slowed the novel down. There is also a blackmail plot, which is marginally more interesting than the medical history. However, the bad past doesn't seem that bad and the victim suffers what I thought was an unrealistic punishment. However, I think my reaction may be a modern one; it certainly seems plausible that people of the 1800s would have been horrified. Finally, there is the issue of the Reform Act, a historical event that seems fascinating but Eliot treats the subject unevenly. In several sections, the Act comes to center stage, but Eliot never really looks at the subject in depth. Perhaps the original audience of the novel would have known all the circumstances surrounding the Act, but I think Eliot could have fleshed out the debate more and made it more central. It certainly seems more interesting than the medical subplot.

I noticed a few interesting things about this novel. Eliot seems to have some sort of economic or capitalist critique going on, but it's hard to tease out. It's hard to say if she's actually critiquing industrialism and the other trappings of capitalism, or just noticing their effect on the lives of people. I think it would take a great deal of research to figure out just what she's saying (research that I don't want to engage in, primarily because I find this novel just tedious enough that actually spending that sort of time with it would probably make me want to stop reading altogether). Also interesting is the way Eliot uses babies as a way to characterize marriage. This is so unrealistic that it's endlessly fascinating. One marriage is childless, but the rest of the marriages result in at least two children. Somehow Eliot uses children to reflect on the strength of a marriage, while also using children to reflect on the parents. I don't want to give too much away, but if you read this book, pay attention to the babies. They seem loaded with symbolic importance, the sort of symbolic importance that is absolutely impossible in real life. In an otherwise realistic novel, this symbol is striking.

Eliot's real power lays in her asides and in the voice she gives her narrator. She has some of the finest insults in 19th century literature and some of the strongest observations in literature. The narrator of Middlemarch comes and goes unpredictably, but whenever the narrator is present, you're privy to some of the funniest observations (or drolly accurate summaries) I've ever read. That being said, this book is going to appeal to very specific people. People who like classics could attempt this book, but I'd recommend reading it in a group. Otherwise you might not have the strength to force yourself through it. Because this novel looks particularly at marriage, I'd recommend it to classics readers who are marriage or are in a committed relationship (not because I want to cause problems, but because I think it's always good to think about your relationships and what you're sacrificing). This is also a classic in feminist literature (if it isn't, it should be). Eliot looks directly at the limited choices women have (marry or don't marry, and even if you do marry your choices are incredibly limited) and how those limited choices destroy women. Finally, to any young people who feel ambitious, I'd suggest you read this book. Suffer through some of the dull parts and you'll learn all you need to know about adult relationships--their pitfalls and their joys.

--Benvolia

28 July 2012

The Anti-Twilight?: "Team Human"


Book: Team Human
Authors: Justine Larbalestier and Sarah Rees Brennan
Pages: 344
Copy: another advanced reader copy (and this one was a mess; I'll explain below)
Read: finished July 27
Spoilers: eh, some-ish, but I don't give anything too major away

So two things before I really start reviewing this book. 1) My copy is missing 17 pages and from what I can tell, those 17 pages were fairly important.  I don't think this will have too intense an influence on my review, but it does mean I have an incomplete understanding of this novel.  Bear that in mind.  2) I only read this book because of this review, which means I started this book with fairly high expectations.  I think that might have been a mistake.

Despite the title of my post, don't pick up this book thinking it's going to be the anti-Twilight.  A human (in this case her name is Cathy) still falls in love with a vampire (named Francis) (and, SPOILER, they end up together!) and neither the human nor the vampire is particularly interesting.  The narrator, Mel, is feisty, which is a relief, and she actually does stuff, rather than sitting around pathetically.  So far so good.  But there is one big issue with this book.

I would argue that Mel is adamantly racist (speciesist?) against vampires.  I know that is a ridiculous statement, but given the logic of the world created by Larbalestier and Brennan (vampires live alongside humans peacefully enough, governed by laws and such), Mel is unapologetically racist.  She hates vampires, hates them without reason (she doesn't even have the excuse that someone in her family has been negatively impacted by vampires and she admits that she has never spent much time with vampires herself).  She eventually latches onto an excuse (her friend Anna's dad potentially ran away with a vampire), but even that excuse doesn't really explain it.

This book is basically Mel's excruciatingly slow journey towards the realization that maybe vampires are okay.  However, she never really makes it.  The novel ends with Mel's firm declaration for her "team" (i.e., Team Human).  I'm not going to be a vampire apologist, because that's not really necessary, but I do want to call out Mel's racism.  I imagine the authors just want a reason for Mel to want to break up Cathy and Francis, but I'm not sure racism is the best way to accomplish this.  Everything in the novel comes down to the fact that Mel hates vampires and wants vampires to be completely separate from humans.  Perhaps the inevitable sequel will do more to upend Mel's racist streak.

Other than this rather immense stumbling block, this novel is okay.  Mel is fairly engaging, when she isn't on an anti-vampire rant, and she's a young woman of action.  That Mel actually does things and seems capable of taking care of herself makes this novel fairly worthwhile, especially to those readers disturbed by Bella in Twilight.  Despite the presence of two authors, the writing doesn't veer wildly between two different styles, but stays consistent.  It takes a little while for the mystery to get going (at first I was worried this was going to be 300-plus pages of Mel's painful attempts to break up Cathy and Francis--thankfully she ends up more interested in the mystery).  The mystery is well thought out (I'll admit I figured out the answer early, but I've been on a huge Sherlock Holmes kick lately so perhaps I'm just primed) and the resolution is thoughtful.

I'd recommend this book to anyone who hasn't succumbed to the "Paranormal Romance" YA genre yet.  I think this is a better place to start than a book like Twilight, primarily because the female characters seem stronger and more interesting.  I don't think this book is really going to convert anyone, so don't have someone who hates the "Paranormal Romance" fad read this.  I think it will only give them more ammunition for the next debate.  I also don't think this book is going to help anyone get over Twilight.  It's not really as romantic and I doubt anyone is going to make a movie out of this one.  This is one that I'd recommend borrowing from the library or a friend.  Maybe the authors' next book will be a keeper.

--Benvolia

17 July 2011

A Fine Retelling: "The Squire, His Knight, & His Lady"

Book: The Squire, His Knight, & His Lady
Author: Gerald Morris
Pages: 229 (Hardcover)
Copy: Yolo County Library (I’m so glad my library has all these books!)
Read: Early July (this was my second reading; first read in Middle School)
Spoilers: a few hints, but nothing big

So here’s the second book in the “Squire’s Tales” series.  This book retells the medieval poem “Sir Gawain and the Green Knight,” with the addition of Terrance’s discovery of love.  It’s not a terrible retelling of the ancient poem, though it is a little boring in comparison.  Gone are all the delicate intricacies of the source material, replaced with clever dialogue and budding romance.  On the one hand, Morris has made Gawain’s experiences at the Green Temple a little more human, revealing Gawain’s depression and uncertainty, as well as Arthur’s sadness.  On the other hand, Morris dismisses the subtlety and intricate structure of the original (not that I can really see young readers putting up with the bob and wheel format of the poem or the masterful interlacing of the hunting and seduction scenes).

Overall, this story is better than The Squire’s Tale.  The plot is better thought out (probably because Morris had strong source material, but let’s not be mean) and the characters are as strong as ever.  The depiction of Eileen is, overall, very good, but I can’t help being a little annoyed by her.  She isn’t the cliché of a medieval woman, but she isn’t exactly modern either.  However, she has spirit, and she certainly seems a match for Terrance.

This book also dips into the painful romance between Lancelot and Guinevere.  I was a little excited to see how Morris would handle this famous love triangle, especially in the setting of a young adult novel.  I’d say he’s handled the affair well enough, especially in his depiction of Arthur.  Lancelot is annoying, as expected, and Guinevere isn’t exactly sympathetic, but Morris ties up all the lose ends well.  (It would have been nice if Morris had been really daring and got rid of Guinevere somehow, but I suppose we can’t expect him to completely rewrite the myths, especially since the love triangle is such a well-known aspect.)

This isn’t my favorite book of the series (so far the third book holds that honor), but this is definitely a good read.  More polished and better plotted than the first book, this story shows Morris’s growth as an author and his comfort with his material.  Morris is obviously deeply immersed in Arthurian legend and conveys his passion well.  He also integrates his own characters well with characters out of myth, a move that doesn’t always work.

I’d recommend this to anyone who liked the first book well enough.  This book might actually be a better place to start (maybe treat The Squire’s Tale as a prequel to read later as a way to fill in a few blanks?).  It’s a worthwhile read, and a great introduction to “Sir Gawain and the Green Knight” (I’d recommend reading this book then digging up a good translation of the original poem, if only to see the subtle moves that Morris had to abandon in his retelling).  Overall, a good story, but once again: candy, not dinner.  Unless you dislike Lancelot.  If that’s the case, it’s catnip.

-Benvolia

Also Read:
Parsifal’s Page, Gerald Morris (16 July 2011)

21 June 2011

Books for Summer: "Practical Magic"

Title: Practical Magic
Author: Alice Hoffman
244 pages (Hardcover)
Copy: Keene Public Library (Although, I have a copy somewhere in my parents' house.)
Read on: 15 June 2011 (I think I first read it in May or June of 2008, sitting out on the lawn, eating countless pastrami sandwiches. My aunt provided both the book and the pastrami and owned the lawn. It was the right kind of New England summer for it, too, just as it is through most of the book.)
Spoilers: 4ish

Every June, somewhere around solstice, I get the urge to read Practical Magic. Alice Hoffman has a very distinctive voice, one that feels very similar to mine. (No, this is not wholly hubris, people have remarked on the similarity, especially in regards to her work Ice Queen) It is a voice that combines the simplicity of a fairy tale with something much more complex, adult, and ultimately realistic. Practical Magic showcases this voice in the story of the Owens sisters, who encounter almost every kind of love.


I'm usually a little bitter about books about sisters. Sisterhood is much more complicated than books make it seem, especially the books that feature "friends so close they are like sisters". (I have a lot of very dear friends, but I would never wish on them the extremely mixed blessing of being my sister.) Equally as aggravating and inaccurate are the books that take the other direction and feature books about sisters that destroy each others' lives (see, for example, the first three parts of In Her Shoes, by Jennifer Weiner, now a major motion picture! as of five years ago). 

But Hoffman maintains a lovely balance and each set of sisters in the novel is believable as sisters. Three generations of Owens sisters, all of then with varying degrees of magical powers, all learn from themselves and from their family how to love. They learn to love each other as sisters, as nieces, as daughters, and mothers, and aunts. With the exception of the elder aunts, who are content in remembering their lost loves, they learn to love the men who wander precipitously into their lives. Almost missing from the novel is fatherly love. Sally and Gillian--the main set of Owens sisters--are orphans. Sally's husband dies early in the novel and in their relationship, leaving the novel without a true father figure. 

Despite this minor flaw, this remains one of my favorite summer reads. I'd recommend it for anyone with sisters. Or anyone in a long term relationship. Or anyone between long term relationships. It is a novel that inspires love, second chances. The last phrase of the novel says it all: "Fall in love as often as possible". Fall in love with the book, if not anything else. 


-Mercutia