Middlemarch by George Eliot

I tried to read this novel for three months before actually managing to do it. I got it for my birthday in September, and I thought to myself, "Awesome! I'm going to read this next week!" Well, the next week shaped up to be hectic, and Middlemarch is over 700 pages, so I put it on deck for the following week and bumped up a shorter work from my list. The following week arrived, and the scenario repeated itself. For six weeks. I was starting to fear that Middlemarch was going to become some kind of literary nemesis, or the one that got away, and I would descend into madness like Captain Ahab, taking my family down with me in my struggle to FINALLY READ THIS BOOK!!!

Then the week before Christmas arrived. One group of company had just left, another was due to arrive in six days. Gifts were bought and wrapped; packages sent; cookies baked; house decorated; programs attended; functions contributed to; cards mailed; menus planned... it was the calm before the storm. I pulled out the giant book. I sat down. And I FINISHED IT! Well, not in one sitting, but in one week. After such a build up of anticipation, one might fear an anticlimactic letdown, a mental "meh..." during the epilogue. Fortunately we're talking about one of the greatest English novels of all time here.

I would describe Middlemarch as detailing a set of character portraits and the intricate web of relationships that grows between them. Some of the characters are initially misunderstood by other characters. After some time the mistaken character realizes (at least partly) the true nature of the other character. Some characters change and grow over time; others are fossilized and refuse to change. The work tracks a community over the course of time, and therefore its detail and length are necessary. In some ways, the first two thirds of the novel functioned as set up for the final third. Because of this I found it to have a slow start and to be more difficult to get into. Upon finishing it, I wasn't really sure how well I liked it, but after taking time to think it over, I appreciate it more. As the web of relationships grows between the characters, over time the book grows on the reader. Middlemarch is well-written, with a lot of social commentary and character development. Beyond that, I'm a little paralyzed about how to review it or what to say. After all, it's Middlemarch.

The Professor by Charlotte Brontë

Charlotte Brontë wrote The Professor before she wrote Jane Eyre, but it was published posthumously. I found the plot interesting and the characters enjoyable, while the entire work was much less intense and serious than Jane Eyre. After Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre, The Professor revealed a lighter side to the Brontë sisters. Although there were serious and occasionally tragic events, the ending allows the protagonists to find permanent happiness.

The Turn of the Screw by Henry James

I read this novel in early November, but it would have been great for Halloween. Because the author isn't completely explicit with details, he builds suspense and leaves the reader wondering about the exact nature of the  ghost and its interaction with the children. I enjoyed The Turn of the Screw and The Woman in White for similar reasons, in part because they rely on suspense and ambiguity to keep the reader psychologically off balance. I recommend this book for readers who enjoy mystery and suspense, possibly even psychological horror.

Persuasion by Jane Austen

The fourth Austen novel I've read this year, Persuasion follows Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, and Emma. Persuasion was Austen's last novel, and her only one featuring a heroine who is far past her youth.  The novel has great merit as a love story with social commentary, and while Austen's comedic sense is at times apparent,  the overall effect is not as humorous as that of Pride and Prejudice or Sense and Sensibility.

Although I've heard critiques of Austen on the basis that she is a product of her time, the complaint is both obvious and disingenuous. Austen could no more write from the viewpoint of a postmodern feminist than I could write from a viewpoint that will be common in 2315 CE. I personally find it valuable to have access to works written from earlier viewpoints. It would be difficult, if not impossible, to understand history without authentic documents, which include letters, biographies, newspapers and, of course, works of fiction.

The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins

This book will knock you out and leave you for dead in Mexico. Or at least, if you're rather flighty and nervous like me, it will keep you at the edge of your seat, with occasional heart palpitations. The Woman in White, written in 1859, is one of the first mystery novels and has earned its reputation as one of the best. I do have to say, at the risk of opening a can of feminism, that the plot is probably creepier to a woman reader, since it concerns the manipulation, threatening, drugging and forcible confinement of women by two plotting men. I'm sure a feminist critique would yield much about nineteenth century gender relations and power differentials. I'll get right on that...when I have a moment...  Also interesting is a point brought up by Michael Chabon's essay "Fan Fictions: On Sherlock Holmes" in Maps and Legends: Reading and Writing Along the Borderlands, in which Chabon explores the changes in attitudes toward novel genres such as mysteries and science fiction. A hundred years ago, a novelist could write a mystery or science fiction novel and still be considered a serious writer of literature. This is not generally the case today. Chabon asks, if Conan Doyle had written A Study in Scarlet today, would it come to be considered a classic, or would it be buried in the "mysteries" corner at the bookstore, dismissed due to its genre label? That fate could have come to The Woman in White if it had been published a hundred years later. I'm glad it wasn't. But I plan to take a second look at the mystery or sci fi section in my library. Perhaps I will find an author who explores universal themes, or who writes incredible prose, or who makes characters come alive. Perhaps I'll find a book that shouldn't have been judged by its cover.

Bleak House, by Charles Dickens

In which I make a gross miscalculation, and am saved by the power of public domain.

I was at a book sale. I bought a volume entitled "Charles Dickens, The Complete Works, Bleak House, 1"  I understood this to mean that Bleak House was the first novel in the set; maybe they were arranged alphabetically?  Alas, no. When I reached the end of the volume, page 435, I was obviously nowhere near the end of the novel. None of the plotlines were near resolution. This was definitely Bleak House volume I of II. And to make matters worse, it was Sunday, and I was supposed to start reading my next book on Monday. Help!  Hurray for the Gutenberg Project. I went online and downloaded a pdf of Bleak House, plowing through the rest of it on Sunday and Monday. Phew...

This was the fourth Dickens novel I've read this year, the previous ones being Great Expectations, Oliver Twist and Hard Times. In the past I have also read A Tale of Two Cities and A Christmas Carol. So many people have said that Bleak House is their favorite Dickens novel, that perhaps my expectations were too high. When I initially finished it, my opinion was lukewarm. Now, the plots were excellent, as were the characters. This book is full of people you will love to hate. The two parts I wasn't thrilled about are as follows. WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD.

First, the character of John Jarndyce seemed one-dimensional. He was very important to the plot, but the reader doesn't really get to know him or sympathize with him. Because he is wealthy and benevolent, many of his actions have a deus ex machina appearance. When the other characters are in a bind, Jarndyce will help them out. I couldn't see much motive or internal conflict in him although, to be fair, the novel is like that in its treatment of the other characters too. I guess because he is a major character I wanted to see more of his internal life. Secondly, the death of Richard appears very Victorian and hysterical to me, a 21st century reader. He becomes mentally consumed by the court case and ends up contracting a fever and dying of consumption. I know the idea of people driving themselves to illness and death through emotional turmoil was more common then, but this particular scenario didn't satisfy me.

END SPOILERS

Now, don't let my two disappointments cause you to think that the book wasn't worth reading, or that I didn't enjoy it. I certainly liked it better than Hard Times (my least favorite by Dickens so far) or Oliver Twist. A Tale of Two Cities is my old favorite, but I haven't read it in so long that I don't think I can rightly compare it with these. At this point I'm not sure whether Great Expectations or Bleak House is my favorite, but after having read six of his works I definitely have a more multidimensional view of Dickens as an author. I know I've said this before, but I strongly recommend reading multiple works by a single author before formulating your opinion of him/her. If I had only read Hard Times, I would have a very different opinion of Dickens than if I had only read Bleak House. 

Stats:
Narrator, heroine: Esther Summerson
Bored to death: Lady Dedlock
The wards of the state: Ada and Richard
Telescopic philanthropist: Mrs. Jellyby
Fool you love to hate: Harold Skimpole
Prototypical detective: Inspector Bucket
Benevolent guardian: John Jarndyce
Sleazy lawyer: Mr. Tulkinghorn
Funny fop: William Guppy
Unfortunate victim of spontaneous combustion: Krook
There but for the grace of God goes Oliver Twist: Jo
There was a lot of: lawyerly ridiculosity, letters, meetings, dialogue
There should have been more: plum puddings.  just kidding.
This book makes you want to: mind your own business, clean out your closets, avoid lawyers
This book makes you glad you don't have to: sue anybody if you don't want to, be illiterate

The Return of the Native

The Return of the Native is the second novel by Thomas Hardy I've read this year, and I have to say I enjoyed it much more than Tess of the D'Urbervilles, despite the latter's fame. This strengthens my resolve to delay forming an opinion of an author until having read more than one of his/her works.  Tess seems to be problematic and depressing for current readers, in part due to its unfair treatment of a victim of circumstance by the other characters. The Return of the Native presents a very different plot and structure, while retaining Hardy's sense of place and modern perspective.
      Slightly controversial when published due to its modern themes, The Return of the Native brings to life a deeply flawed heroine who, along with the other characters, must navigate sexual politics, unfulfilled desire, and conflicting demands of nature and society.  Throughout the novel, the omniscient narrator points out cultural vestiges of pre-Christian agricultural society which still survive on Egdon Heath, and the heath is portrayed as a place where time runs more slowly, but the reader sees that the modern world is already trickling in and will someday carry off the old ways in a flood. If you want to read about mumming, small beers, Nov. 5 bonfires with pre-Guy Fawkes origins, omens, barrows, effigies and folk cures, this book gives them a mention but doesn't dwell on them; they are almost taken for granted. Some characters understand the heath and love it as their home, accepting their place in nature. To others, who want to leave nature behind for culture and society, the heath is a prison. There is a sad nostalgia as Hardy describes Egdon Heath, as one would experience when contemplating a dear friend whose days are numbered. In other words, this book is a big plate of modernity, with a side dish of modernity, washed down with a tall glass of... classical tragedy. Wait..what? That's right.
      Hardy originally planned to structure the novel into five books, which is the classical tragic format, but he adapted his work to the tastes of the public by adding a happy ending for Diggory Venn and Thomasin in a sixth book, Aftercourses. In Hardy's original version, Venn remains a reddleman (seller of red ochre for marking sheep) and Thomasin lives out her days as a widow. In addition to the classical tragic structure, Hardy employs unity of time, place and action (also requirements of classical tragedy). This means that the plot occurs in a single place and with a main course of action (subplots were discouraged). Traditionally the unity of time meant that a classic tragedy took place in a single day, but Hardy's novel covers a year and a day.  To further emphasize the classical nature of his work, he chooses for its setting an ancient heath steeped in pre-Christian history and creates a chorus consisting of the heathfolk.
     The setting itself, Egdon Heath, is imbued with enough life to be considered a character in its own right. Hardy is known for his masterful treatment of place and his literary landscape of Wessex, the semi-fictional region in which his novels take place. Hardy drew maps of Wessex; he loved its wilds and mourned its industrialized areas, and in this he shares some similarities with Tolkien, although he did not provide a backstory for Wessex complete with cosmology and languages, as Tolkien did for Middle Earth.  The composer Gustav Holt wrote a piece called Egdon Heath, inspired by Thomas Hardy's description. You can listen to it here.
     Because I mentioned Thomas Hardy in my last entry about D.H. Lawrence's Lady Chatterley's Lover, I would like to complete the circle this time by including Lawrence's view of The Return of the Native. An anonymous contributor has put it so eloquently on wikipedia that I would like to directly quote a paragraph...is that too shocking?  Really, who's going to spend time editing the wikipedia article on The Return of the Native? Probably only academics and lit geeks, either of whom are qualified enough to do so. SPOILER AHEAD. Here's the paragraph:

"Some critics—notably D. H. Lawrence—see the novel as a study of the way communities control their misfits. In this view, Eustacia dies because she has internalised the community's values to the extent that, unable to escape Egdon without confirming her status as a fallen woman, she chooses suicide. She thereby ends her sorrows while at the same time—by drowning in the weir like any woman instead of floating, witchlike—she proves her essential innocence to the community."


Stats:
The titular native: Clym Yeobright
Promethean heroine: Eustacia
Babe in the woods (er, on the heath): Thomasin
Fox on the run: Damon Wildeve
The reddleman, hero of the heath with a dash of magical realism: Diggory Venn
Leading character: Egdon Heath
There was a lot of: walking on the heath,  heath-en customs
There should have been more: I wouldn't have minded more descriptions of heathen customs, but that wouldn't have been as realistic. The novel is a largely accurate portrayal of Wessex life at that time.
This book makes you want to: embrace your little corner of the world, not resent it
This book makes you glad you don't have to: be shunned by a small community for being different

Lady Chatterley's Lover

When I first chose this book, I was aware that it had originally been banned due to charges of obscenity, but this didn't bother me because I had already read Madame Bovary, which had the same fate despite its apparent quaintness to modern eyes. Well, times certainly changed between 1856 and 1928. D.H. Lawrence purposefully used certain unprintable words about ten times in this book, with the intention of reclaiming them so they could be used as common, even romantic words. Based on society's past and current opinion of the book, I have to wonder if he made a tactical error. Not only have the words not been reclaimed, but now they are the only thing most people think of when D.H. Lawrence comes to mind. If the reader can follow the plot without giving undue weight to these sections, s/he might be surprised to find that Lawrence has more in common with Hardy and Tolkien than with Ovid.
     The relationship between Connie and Mellors takes place in the East Midlands, against the backdrop of a region which has recently been transformed by the development of the coal mining industry. Critics rightly see in Lawrence's focus on the coal-mining town the important themes of social conflict and the class system. I also saw echoes of Hardy's ache of modernism (see my discussion of Tess) and Tolkien's orcs- beings who are slaves to industry and mechanization, slowly losing their humanity. The coal mine is depicted as an ugly aberration which destroys the beauty of the land and the lives of the people.
     D.H. Lawrence uses the dichotomy of agriculture vs. industry to discuss the theme of mind and body.  Clifford Chatterley, after his paralysis, becomes a writer and an industrialist, living completely in his mind. The coal miners live completely in their deformed bodies, seeming to have very little mind at all. Only Connie and Mellors are able to escape this fragmentation, as their relationship brings them into a life of integrity and wholeness. Lawrence believed that true relationships can reverse the brokenness that life visits upon individuals.
     I am in search of another author who will take this idea a step further back in time and point out that it is only through the brokenness brought by modernity that society (including D.H. Lawrence) has come to view the individual as its smallest unit. Pre-industrial societies did not (and do not) see individuals as their building blocks. Rather, for them, the family is the smallest indivisible unit. I am not talking solely about New Guinean or Andean tribes either: indigenous Europeans viewed life in the same way. The current culture of mechanized, consumerist individualism is not "Western culture". Rather, Western culture was the first to be torn apart by its own juggernaut. Native Americans are right to mourn the loss of their cultures, and to work to preserve and reconstruct them. But they would not be completely correct were they to state that their cultures had been overwhelmed by Euro-American (or Western/Anglo) culture. Rather, both Native Americans and indigenous Europeans have witnessed the erasure of their cultures by industrialism and its functions of individualism and materialism. Western cultures brought industrialism upon themselves, and for them the damage is more complete. Can we even imagine what indigenous European cultures would look like had they survived untouched into the 19th century, as did Native American cultures?  They actually did survive that long in rural areas, and vestiges of early Anglo-Saxon culture are depicted in Thomas Hardy's The Return of the Native, published in 1878 and the subject of my next blog entry.

Stats:
Protagonist: Constance Chatterley
More machine than man: Clifford Chatterley
Working class by birth, noble in deed: Oliver Mellors
Creepy sycophant: Mrs. Bolton
There was a lot of: descriptions of the forest, private conversations, characters' thoughts
There should have been more: I don't know. I wouldn't mind reading Lawrence's thoughts on balance and wholeness, but then it would have been an essay instead of a novel.
This book makes you want to: live an authentic life (don't a lot of good books do that?)
This book makes you glad you don't have to: be a coal miner. or a game keeper. or a paralytic. or one half of a dead marriage.

Emma by Jane Austen

The summer  lit-fest continues! July 10-16 was spent with Emma, my third Jane Austen novel of 2011. Austen isn't the only author I've revisited this year; she and Charles Dickens are tied so far with three novels each. I've also read two each by James Fenimore Cooper and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. So far Dickens and Austen are two of my favorites, so I haven't minded reading multiple works by them, but these choices are more a reflection of what I had on hand than of anything else.

Emma Woodhouse is in many ways a different sort of heroine than Elizabeth Bennet or Marianne Dashwood. If you have only read P&P and S&S and you fear that Austen only retells the same story under different names, read Emma.  There are, of course, many similarities, but both the characters and the plot are unique. Emma Woodhouse has no sisters, is very well-off with no financial worries, and she doesn't wish to marry. Rather, Emma prefers to set up romances for other people, and throughout the novel this results in many situations that are alternately hilarious and awkward.

That said, Emma does have similarities with other Austen heroines, and with Austen herself.  Emma is an intelligent young woman without the ability to change her living situation or her everyday life. She doesn't have much to do, and she has few companions her own age. Critics who point out that Austen's heroine's often live lives of little substance should thank Austen for accurately transcribing the safe but meaningless fate of middle- and upper-class women in the early 19th century.

Stats:
Spoiled but smart and lovely: Emma
Aptly named dark horse: George Knightley
Juvenile flirt: Frank Churchill
Nemesis turned friend: Jane Fairfax
Airhead: Harriet Smith
Love to hate: Augusta Elton
Don't eat that!: Henry Woodhouse
There was a lot of: parties, calling, outings, letters, notes, coach rides
There should have been more: descriptions of food. Fluffy novels never talk enough about food.
This book makes you want to: examine the evidence a la Sherlock Holmes, not a la Emma, surround yourself with people and activities of substance
This book makes you glad you don't have to: go calling on people, adhere to severe social protocol, eat thin gruel every night with Mr. Woodhouse

The Hound of the Baskervilles

Yes, I continued my mental sabbatical with another easier read for the week of July 3-9. The Hound of the Baskervilles is the third of four full-length Sherlock Holmes mystery novels written by Sir A. Conan Doyle, and it is quite delicious.  Although I stated in my introductory post that I wouldn't be using audio books, I ended up listening to the last 3 chapters since I had lasik surgery during that week and couldn't read for a couple days afterwards. If you use audiobooks regularly, keep in mind that English speakers (including the readers of audiobooks) speak about 150 words per minute. If you read faster than that, reading to yourself is a more efficient use of your time unless you are doing something else while you listen to the book, in which case your concentration is divided and you will probably miss much of what the author is trying to say.  That's not a problem when you're listening to an action-packed Sherlock Holmes mystery, but I personally would never try to listen to, for example, Dostoevsky as an audiobook. That said, very old works such as Beowulf were meant to be spoken aloud, and when I read Homer's Odyssey in 2012 (teaser!), I will definitely seek out an audio version at some point.

But, unlike Holmes, I digress.

One of my favorite aspects of this book was the setting.  Dartmoor is a land of wind-swept moors, the remains of Bronze Age stone huts,  rocky granite outcroppings (tors) and a menacing bog. It is the perfect location for a mystery in which a supernatural hound appears to fulfill an ancient family curse. Having read this book, I would love to wander through the region and take it all in.

The novel opens with Sir Charles Baskerville discovered dead among the yew trees on his estate. (Yew trees are often found in church cemeteries, and are a symbol of sadness.)  It is quickly ascertained that Baskerville died of a heart attack, an event which has lent its name to "The Baskerville Effect", a statistical observation discovered in 2001 by researchers at UC San Diego. The Baskerville Effect states that mortality through heart attacks is increased by psychological stress.

The plot contains Conan Doyle's usual twists, turns, red herrings and Holmesian attention to detail. As in his other novels, Holmes' character is extremely well-developed while the other characters are less so, and at times even two-dimensional. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, as it allows Holmes' logical prowess, encyclopedic knowledge and attention to detail to take center stage.

Stats:
Always brings his top game: Sherlock Holmes
Esteemed colleague: Dr. Watson
Unfortunate victim of family curse: Sir Charles Baskerville
Next in line for the axe (or in this case, hound): Sir Henry Baskerville
Original suspect(s):  can't tell you that
Actual villain: can't tell you that either
Perfect setting: Dartmoor
Is it supernatural, or flesh and blood?: the hound
Can anything good come from: Grimpen Bog
There was a lot of: weather, natural features, analysis of persons, telegrams
There should have been more: development of the villain's character
This book makes you want to: establish an ancestral home, live in a stone house in a wilderness area, pass on an excellent legacy to your descendants (or nieces and nephews), observe people more closely
This book makes you glad you don't have to: be pursued by a hound from hell (duh)


p.s. How could I forget to mention that the dreaded hound of the Baskervilles has its modern counterpart in Fahrenheit 451?  What evil deeds bring on the curse of the mechanical hound? How does a person become part of that line of sinners pursued by Ray Bradbury's hound? I leave that for you to deduce, my esteemed colleague.

Cranford

Basing my opinion of Cranford, by Elizabeth Gaskell, purely on its cover, I hypothesized that it would be something between a Jane Austen and a George Eliot novel. In order to scientifically prove or disprove my hypothesis and not be guilty of flouting the old proverb's advice, it was necessary to read all of the pages. Which I did. The whole time I was reading, my mental commentary vascillated between "where's the plot?" and "this is the book I should have read last week!"
     After reading some reviews and discussion online, I find I am not alone in noticing the lack of plot. Cranford lays out a series of mostly minor events taking place in the town of Cranford and involving a small circle of spinsters and widows. The beauty of this book lies in its character development. Elizabeth Gaskell was aware that she lived in a time of rapid social change, and she purposefully set down an account of daily life in a small town. The main characters in Cranford are fairly old women, whom Gaskell saw as "living hoards of family tradition and old custom". I loved Gaskell's little old ladies, with all their eccentricities and yet with mannerisms, habits, likes and dislikes that are not so far different from those of elderly people today.  Some people find the elderly to be difficult to understand or get along with, but these ladies are downright hilarious.  You've got to read the part about the cat that ate the lace.

Stats:
Main character: Miss Matty
Secondaries: Miss Matty's posse of old ladies. It's a tribute to Gaskell's storytelling that I was able to keep them all straight with ease.
Biggest plot twist: The feature you are looking for is not available in this book. Please make an alternative selection.
There was a lot of: hats, lace crocheting, card playing, gossiping conversing, calling cards, note writing, proper visiting protocol
There should have been more: chapters
This book makes you want to: visit little old ladies and grow up to be one...someday far in the future
This book makes you glad you don't have to: be a little old lady quite yet...

Sense and Sensibility

In mid-June (the 12th-18th, to be exact) I was starting to feel bogged down in my reading, and after reflecting upon my choices the last couple months, I decided that after the heavy seriousness of All Quiet on the Western Front, Jane Eyre, Madame Bovary, Fahrenheit 451, Hard Times, Last of the Mohicans, Tess of the d’Urbervilles, The Grapes of Wrath, The Bell Jar,  and For Whom the Bell Tolls, I needed something light and sparkling. Sense and Sensibility was like a lemon sorbet after two months of mutton chops. (Actually, I've never eaten a mutton chop, but it sounds heavy, doesn't it?) 

     In terms of characters, I encountered some similarities with Pride and Prejudice. There were the philanderer, the hysterical sister(s), the airhead mother, the absent (in mind or body) father, the mysterious but ultimately virtuous gentleman and the humorous secondary characters. The ending is quite balanced and satisfactory, with the rational sister finding a match based on love, and the emotional sister finding happiness with a level-headed man whom she had initially rejected for frivolous reasons.  

     I think most readers prefer Pride and Prejudice over Sense and Sensibility simply because the hero of the former, Mr. Darcy, is far more swoon-worthy than that of the latter. (Sorry, Colonel Barton)  This is partially due to the differing slants of the novels.  In S&S, Austen is contrasting the two sisters and exploring the differences between them.  The various potential suitors are tools to draw out aspects of the sisters' characters and are not developed as fully.  In P&P, Austen is comparing and contrasting Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy, which obviously requires more development of Darcy's character.  Another possible contribution to the differences in focus may lie in the fact that the first draft of S&S was written when Austen was only 19 (!), before she had experienced any romantic relationships, while the first draft of P&P was written two years later, after her relationship with Tom Lefroy.

      I certainly found Sense and Sensibility enjoyable in its own right, with interesting plot devices and humorous characters, although overall I must side with the majority in preferring Pride and Prejudice.

Stats:

Two steps backward for feminism: Marianne

Finally, a girl who thinks: Elinor

Karma's gonna get you in the end: John Dashwood

Everything is okay ma'am, please put down the pocketbook: Mrs. Dashwood

Warning: Contains dry ice. Do not handle without protective gloves: Fanny Dashwood

Why, you evil toad of a man!: John Willoughby

Somebody please put codeine in her tea: Mrs. Jennings

And valium in hers: Mrs. Ferrars

Knight in shining...cravat?: Colonel Barton

There was a lot of: note writing, misunderstandings, descriptions of rooms, tiresome visitors, humorous situations, similarities with Pride and Prejudice

There should have been more: development of Colonel Barton and Edward Ferrars' characters

This book makes you want to: read more Jane Austen, visit interesting friends, make sure you're not an airhead

This book makes you glad you don't have to: adhere to proper 19th century English social conventions

Hard Times

You know how in the good old days shiny new factories fairly employed industrious workers? Yeah, neither does Charles Dickens. Hard Times is a critique against utilitarianism, laissez-faire capitalism, and the idea that the most prosperous are also the most moral. Dickens presents characters like Gradgrind, a factory superintendent who cares only for facts, figures and statistics.  As a utilitarian, he forbids his children the experiences of imagination and humankindness, driving them to ruin. Gradgrind's friend Bounderby is a materialist merchant who believes that his success as a businessman is somehow due to his moral superiority over the working-class people he employs.  Ironically, the only character who displays imagination and warm-heartedness is Sissy Jupe, the daughter of a traveling circus performer.

Sweatshops: Old news? urban legend? fact of life?

Hard TImes takes place in Coketown, a fictional city resembling industrial Manchester or Preston. Dickens' opinion of factory labor was certainly influenced by his childhood experience pasting labels onto bottles in a shoe polish factory.  In the 21st century, child labor and harsh working conditions haven't been abolished, they have merely been removed to distant locations. Is this a necessary fact of industrialism? Is it necessary to capitalism? Can industrialism be separated from capitalism?  Some critics in Dickens' time, including George Bernard Shaw, disagreed with him, calling Hard Times an example of "sullen socialism" and a revolt against the industrial order. Others, such as George Orwell and John Ruskin, praised the novel. I advise you not to venture an opinion until you have read it. Whether you agree or disagree with Dickens' conclusions, you may be surprised at the grotesque portrayal of capitalism.

Stats:
Themes: fact vs. fancy;  honesty; officiousness and bureaucracy;  utilitarianism
Cold, calculating factory superintendent: Thomas Gradgrind
Unfortunate victim of imagination-ectomy: Louisa Gradgrind
Fully human despite (because of?) inefficient upbringing: Sissy Jupe
Pompous blowhard you love to hate: Josiah Bounderby
Working class man with higher moral character than his employer: Stephen Blackpool
There was a lot of: immovable social stratification, facts, boasting, lying, spying, secret reflection, regret, bad guys who didn't get their just desserts
There should have been more: views into Louisa's thoughts, development of the character of Sissy's father
This book makes you glad you don't have to: work in a textile mill, fear being blacklisted by the union, think all aspects of human experience can be quantified
This book makes you want to: pay attention to where your purchases come from, remind stressed friends that climbing the corporate ladder or improving their material lifestyle doesn't increase satisfaction or make them more successful (and somehow better?) people

Jane Eyre

Yes, this is another one of those books that it seemed everyone but me has read. Since it's around 450 pages, I wasn't sure if I could finish it in a week, but I managed to join the ranks of the initiated. (Note: I read this the week of April 10-16. Once again, I'm abreast of the reading, behind on the blog) I was familiar with the plot from listening to other people's discussions, but I had purposefully avoided watching any of the films or miniseries until after I had read the book.
     Jane Eyre was not unique in having attained a measure of familiarity in my mind; I was already familiar with the plots of most of the classic novels I have read thus far in 2011 for the reason mentioned above: these are well-known books and I've heard other people discussing them.  But each week upon choosing and reading a novel, I am surprised that the aforementioned discussions revolved solely around the major plot events or characters (Wasn't Mr. X creepy? I think Ms. Y should have chosen Suitor 2 instead of Suitor 1. There were too many minor characters.) without touching on the themes of the books. Silas Marner isn't just about the love of an old man for an orphan; it's about betrayal, redemption, suspicion, greed, alchemy and love (among other things). The Pioneers isn't only about a small village and its wild and wandering hero; it's about the tension between wilderness and civilization (social and psychological as well as geographical), justice, intercultural relations, land ownership and environmental conservation. Should I have been surprised that Jane Eyre is more than a gothic romance? And why do people seem to forget the themes of books but remember the plots?
     Jane Eyre is indeed partly autobiographical, with many of the characters and places paralleling those of Charlotte Brontë's own experience. The novel is known for its exploration of class and gender relations, but it also addresses religion, God, morality, forgiveness, and the relationship (or lack thereof) between those ideas. Themes of fear, the supernatural and madness place the novel firmly in the gothic or gothic romance category. Having read Wuthering Heights a few months ago, I can see similarities between Emily's and Charlotte's styles, themes and characters. I can also say with certainty that the next time Jane Eyre comes up in conversation, I will think not only of the memorable characters, but also of the themes exemplified through the characters' thoughts and actions.

Stats:
Byronic anti-hero (mandatory in gothic novels): Edward Rochester
Hypocritical pietist: Mr. Brocklehurst
Victim of consumption (also mandatory in gothic novels): Helen Burns
Madwoman in the attic: Bertha Mason
The guy who wrecks the wedding: Richard Mason
Devout-in-all-the-wrong-ways Calvinist: St. John Rivers
Lower class governess who survives the odyssey into selfhood: Jane Eyre
There was a lot of: fire, allusions to burning, mysterious bumps in the night, miserable living conditions, secrets, people trying to guilt Jane into bending to their will
There should have been more: lucky breaks for Jane...but that wouldn't have made a very good bildungsroman, now would it?
This book makes you want to: give an orphan a better life, observe others more keenly, learn to draw, put on a couple sweaters and eat a big dinner, rethink society's definition of mental illness and its treatment of people in that category
This book makes you glad you don't have to: dodge books thrown by hateful cousins, interact only with a narrow stratum of society, travel long distances by coach, narrowly escape bigamy