Tuesday, August 11, 2026

Classics Club Spin #45



The Wheel is spinning!  It's another Classics Club Spin, just in time for my birthday!  Will we be flung to the Scottish Highlands with Rob Roy?  Will we land in a French carriage to smuggle aristocrats with the Scarlet Pimpernel?  Will we be taking a Sentimental Journey with Laurence Sterne?  Lady Fortuna will reveal all soon...

Here is my Spin List:

1. The Edwardians - Vita Sackville-West
2. The White People and Other Weird Stories - Arthur Machen
3. Melmoth the Wanderer - Charles Maturin
4. The Return of the Native - Thomas Hardy
5. Gulliver's Travels - Jonathan Swift
6. Excellent Women - Barbara Pym
7. The Bride of Lammermoor - Sir Walter Scott
8. Wives and Daughters - Elizabeth Gaskell
9. Rob Roy - Sir Walter Scott
10.  A Sentimental Journey - Laurence Sterne
11. Parzival - Wolfram von Eschenbach
12. The Brothers Karamazov - Fyodor Dostoevsky
13. Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
14. The Scarlet Pimpernel - Baroness Orczy
15. Cindie - Jean DeVanny
16. Miss Marjoribanks - Mrs. Oliphant
17.  Lark Rise to Candleford - Flora Thompson
18. The Forsyte Saga - John Galsworthy
19. The Beautiful and the Damned - F. Scott Fitzgerald
20. Our Mutual Friend - Charles Dickens

Update: THE WHEEL HAS SPOKEN! I will be reading The Forsyte Saga by John Galsworthy.

Tuesday, May 12, 2026

Classics Club Spin #44



The Wheel spins once more... Will it be cocktails and cocaine with the Bright Young Things of Vile Bodies?  Or tragedy in Wessex with Jude the Obscure?  We could emigrate to Australia with Cindie, or move from Lark Rise to Candleford with Laura... Only Lady Fortuna knows!


Here is my Spin List:

1. Trilby - George du Maurier
2. The Mysteries of Udolpho - Ann Radcliffe
3. Don Quixote - Miguel de Cervantes
4. The Forsyte Saga - John Galsworthy
5. The Brothers Karamazov - Fyodor Dostoevsky
6. Excellent Women - Barbara Pym
7. Kipps - H.G. Wells
8. Melmoth the Wanderer - Charles Maturin
9. Faust - Goethe
10. Lark Rise to Candleford - Flora Thompson
11. Ivanhoe - Sir Walter Scott
12. Wives and Daughters - Elizabeth Gaskell
13. Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
14. Vile Bodies - Evelyn Waugh
15. The Edwardians - Vita Sackville-West
16. Shirley - Charlotte Bronte 6/26/26
17. The Way of All Flesh - Samuel Butler
18. Cindie - Jean DeVanny
19. The Faerie Queene - Edmund Spenser
20. Hester - Mrs. Oliphant

Update: THE WHEEL HAS SPOKEN! I will be reading Faust by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.


Saturday, March 14, 2026

The Odd Women by George Gissing



I have mixed feelings about The Odd Women.  Written in 1893, the novel explores the plight of "surplus women" in late nineteenth-century Britain, at which time there were nearly one million more women than men.  The title refers to these "odd women" - those left out of marriage pairings.  Victorian works that touch on the "Woman Question" are always very interesting to me.  New technologies and changing industries saw a rise of these surplus women in the workforce.  Many women were driven by necessity to seek means of supporting themselves. Some found reputable employment in new spheres, though some met unsavory fates.  How did single Victorian women deal with poverty and loneliness?  What was the place of the intellectual woman?  What dangers and temptations did single women face in these times?  All of these questions are dealt with in The Odd Women, as author George Gissing took a strong interest in the social issues of his day.  His interest in working-class women may have been a little too strong.  

Though I have no wish to commit the biographical fallacy, I do feel that it is Gissing's authorship which makes this book problematic for me.  His grim personality hangs over the book like a cloud.  A cynical atheist who abandoned one working-class wife and had a second institutionalized, who loved to write about social ills but scorned social reform efforts, Gissing seems tailor-made to embrace the naturalistic literary movement which reared its ugly head in his times.  A deliberate and deterministic bleakness awaits the character in a Gissing novel.

Do I believe all stories must have happy endings?  Not at all; I enjoy a good tragedy.  And yet, Gissing does not write tragedy.  If a comedy is shaped like a letter U, and a tragedy is shaped like an upside-down U, Gissing's naturalism is really just a flat line with a slight downturn at the end of every character's story.

The characters themselves are viewed with a certain detachment, which was a staple of the naturalistic style.  We are told the story of the intellectual and independent Rhoda Nunn, who teaches secretarial skills to young women.  Her dealings with the rakish Everard Barfoot briefly complicate her life.  Other female characters face bad marriage choices, contemplated infidelities, alcoholism, and poverty.  None will have a happy ending.  No one's story really feels like a resolved story.

The Odd Women was a book with an intriguing premise that did hold my interest up to a point, but which was ultimately spoiled by the author's literary pretenses.  Gissing's determined posture of bleak "realism" hampers his storytelling.


Tuesday, February 3, 2026

Classics Club Spin #43



What literary fate awaits me this time?  It's Classics Club Spin time!  From the quest for the Holy Grail with Parzival to Spanish bullfights with Hemingway, the possibilities for this spin are certainly intriguing. 

Here is my Spin List:

1. The White People and Other Weird Stories - Arthur Machen
2. The Monarch of the Glen - Compton Mackenzie
3. The Bride of Lammermoor - Sir Walter Scott
4. Uncle Silas - Sheridan Le Fanu
5. Confessions of an English Opium Eater - Thomas De Quincey
6. Kipps - H.G. Wells
7. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn - Betty Smith
8. The Lottery and Other Stories - Shirley Jackson
9. The Vicar of Wakefield - Oliver Goldsmith
10. Nightmare Abbey - Thomas Love Peacock
11. Daniel Deronda - George Eliot
12. The Return of the Native - Thomas Hardy
13. The Mysteries of Udolpho - Ann Radcliffe
14. Hester - Mrs. Oliphant
15. Recollections of the Lakes and the Lake Poets - Thomas De Quincey
16. The Sun Also Rises - Ernest Hemingway
17. Parzival - Wolfram von Eschenbach
18. Olive - Dinah Mulock Craik
19. Red Pottage - Mary Cholmondeley
20. Wives and Daughters - Elizabeth Gaskell

Update: THE WHEEL HAS SPOKEN! I will be reading The Monarch of the Glen by Compton Mackenzie.

 

Thursday, November 6, 2025

The Trial by Franz Kafka


Many years ago, I read The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka, which is the story of a man who wakes one morning to find himself transformed into a giant insect.  I found the novelty of this situation interesting.  In more recent years, I have noticed The Trial garnering more attention, turning up on many lists of must-read classics.  I optimistically added it to my Classics Club list.  

The Trial is my most hated book of 2025.  I found out after reading it that it was never truly finished, and that it had been written in a haphazard and nonlinear manner, scattered across many notebooks.  I also learned that Kafka's friend and posthumous editor took the manuscript away from Kafka, as Kafka  had a habit of destroying his own work.  Pity he didn't manage to burn The Trial.

The book tells the story of Josef K., a bank official arrested and prosecuted by vague authorities for a crime that is never revealed to him or to the reader.  The narrative that follows is tedious, vulgar, and grim.  Perhaps it is Kafka's comment on bureaucracy or the pointlessness of life.  I can't say I care.  The best part of this book was when it was over.

Monday, October 20, 2025

Classics Club Spin #42



It's time for another Classics Club Spin!  Will the Wheel come to rest in Lilliput or Lark Rise?   Will the weird tales of Sheridan Le Fanu, Arthur Machen, or Shirley Jackson rise to the top?  Will we finally find out about that tree growing in Brooklyn?  We shall see...


Here is my Spin List:

1. Daniel Deronda - George Eliot
2. The Return of the Native - Thomas Hardy
3. The Odd Women - George Gissing
4. Cindie - Jean DeVanny
5. Kipps - H.G. Wells
6. Uncle Silas - Sheridan Le Fanu
7. A Pair of Blue Eyes - Thomas Hardy
8. Excellent Women - Barbara Pym
9. Trilby - George du Maurier
10. Gulliver's Travels - Jonathan Swift
11. The Brothers Karamazov - Fyodor Dostoevsky
12. Deerbrook - Harriet Martineau
13. A Sentimental Journey - Laurence Sterne
14. The Edwardians - Vita Sackville-West
15. The White People and Other Weird Stories - Arthur Machen
16. The Way of All Flesh - Samuel Butler
17. The Trial - Franz Kafka
18. The Lottery and Other Stories - Shirley Jackson
19. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn - Betty Smith
20. Lark Rise to Candleford - Flora Thompson

Update: THE WHEEL HAS SPOKEN! I will be reading The Trial by Franz Kafka.

 

Saturday, June 14, 2025

Classics Club Spin #41


Who will rise and who will fall?  Will the Venerable Bede proclaim the history of the English church from the top of the Wheel?  Will we wander with Melmoth?  Quest with Parzival?  Or faint a lot and hide letters with Lady Audley?  It's time for another Classics Club Spin, and the Spin List is quite varied this time, from the plague to Barbara Pym.  I wait excitedly to see where the wheel comes to rest.

Here is my Spin List:

1. Vile Bodies - Evelyn Waugh
2. New Grub Street - George Gissing
3. The Mysteries of Udolpho - Ann Radcliffe
4. An Ecclesiastical History of the English People - Bede
5. Red Pottage - Mary Cholmondeley
6. Lady Audley's Secret - Mary Elizabeth Braddon
7. The Return of the Native - Thomas Hardy
8. Cindie - Jean DeVanny
9. The Lark - E. Nesbit
10. Excellent Women - Barbara Pym
11. A Journal of the Plague Year - Daniel Defoe
12. The Way of All Flesh - Samuel Butler
13. The White People and Other Weird Stories - Arthur Machen
14. East Lynne - Mrs. Henry Wood
15. Parzival - Wolfram von Eschenbach
16. Olive - Dinah Mulock Craik
17. The Scarlet Pimpernel - Baroness Orczy
18. Melmoth the Wanderer - Charles Maturin
19. He Knew He Was Right - Anthony Trollope
20. A Sentimental Journey - Laurence Sterne

Update:  THE WHEEL HAS SPOKEN!  I will be reading A Journal of the Plague Year by Daniel Defoe.


Monday, April 7, 2025

Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert



They say a picture is worth a thousand words - and, in all honesty, the cover of this old Oxford World's Classics edition of Madame Bovary may tell you all you need to know about the book.  Let's have some fun and do a pictorial book review by discussing this painting as if it really were  an interpretive key to the book.  It's a bit unconventional, but so was Flaubert.

This woman provides a fairly good representation of Emma Bovary's character - that perfect expression of petulant boredom, the attitude of indolence, the love of finery and ornament.  Emma was a woman who read too many bad novels - a bit of a fantasist, if we're honest.  The real world held no charms for her.  She wanted high romance, excitement, and an elegance out of the reach of her bourgeois country doctor husband.

Young Lady in a Boat by James Tissot, 1870

Zooming out to consider the painting as a whole makes the scene a bit clearer for us.  The lady is adrift in a boat, the paddle lying idle at her side.  She makes no effort to steer a course, and appears to have run into the weeds.  She's oblivious to the beauty of the world around her, instead directing her gaze into the artist's own, wishing to see her own beauty reflected there.  She is posed and she is staged, gazing into the Mirror of Narcissus that is the artist's artificially constructed image of her.  And what of the little pug dog in the boat?  There is Charles Bovary, Emma's stolid and faithful lapdog, proud to be with her, always behind her, and completely beneath her notice.  The wildflowers in the boat lay plucked and discarded, useful only for a moment's pleasure or as an ornament to the woman's own beauty.  They echo Waterhouse's painting of Ophelia, and the whole scene foreshadows his Lady of Shalott.  Both allusions are apropos.

I have mixed feelings about Madame Bovary.  Stylistically, it is a work of French 19th century realism or naturalism, and Flaubert's style is engaging (as much as I can say that having only read an English translation), though it drifts into the sordid.  Emma is not a particularly sympathetic character (she is meant to be flawed).  Her wicked behavior and self-absorption aren't played for laughs like Becky Sharp in Vanity Fair.  The reader suffers watching Emma Bovary, witnessing many painful scenes of ugly behavior and bad decisions.  Do we pity her or judge her?  What does this say about us?  We may hope for her redemption, but Flaubert doesn't provide us with an easy ending to the book.   

This is only the second work I've read by Flaubert, having read the short story "A Simple Heart" many years ago.  Though I appreciate his talent as a writer, he isn't a favorite.

Read for Classics Club Spin #40

Tuesday, February 11, 2025

Classics Club Spin #40


Another Classics Club Spin is imminent.  Will Elizabeth Gaskell rise to the top?  Will Thomas De Quincey forget to grease the wheel in an opium stupor?  Will the Venerable Bede lose his grip and fly over the hedge?  Stay tuned...

Here is my Spin List:

1. He Knew He Was Right - Anthony Trollope
2. The Mill on the Floss - George Eliot
3. The Bride of Lammermoor - Sir Walter Scott
4. Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
5. Recollections of the Lakes and the Lake Poets - Thomas De Quincey
6. Wives and Daughters - Elizabeth Gaskell
7. An Ecclesiastical History of the English People - Bede
8. Melmoth the Wanderer- Charles Maturin
9. Olive - Dinah Mulock Craik
10. Excellent Women - Barbara Pym
11. The Book of Margery Kempe - Margery Kempe
12. Red Pottage - Mary Cholmondeley
13. The Trial - Franz Kafka
14. Rob Roy - Sir Walter Scott
15. East Lynne - Mrs. Henry Wood
16. The Lark - E. Nesbit
17. The Woodlanders - Thomas Hardy
18. Lud-in-the-Mist - Hope Mirrlees
19. A Sentimental Journey - Laurence Sterne
20. The Sun Also Rises - Ernest Hemingway

Update: THE WHEEL HAS SPOKEN! I will be reading Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert.

Saturday, January 25, 2025

Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky


This is a novel about an axe murderer.  It can be considered as a psychological novel, though not in the sense that a modern secular humanist would use that term.  Dostoevsky's psychology is deeply rooted in Orthodox Christianity.  Raskolnikov's sickness is fundamentally a spiritual sickness, and the alienation he experiences as the result of his crime is not only from the human race as a societal body, but from the Body of Christ and the life of the world in its most Christian sense.  Raskolnikov is a young student who swallows some bad ideology, of the nihilistic type that elevates the individual and damns everyone else.  The very name 'Raskolnikov' comes from a Russian word meaning schism or division:  he is a divided soul.  This division and alienation are a sort of private hell for Raskolnikov, and Dostoevsky explores the need for wholeness, restoration, and redemption masterfully, without ever once overtly "preaching" at his readers.

The characters in this book are vivid and unforgettable.  There is Sonya, who is essential to Raskolnikov's journey of the soul.  Her occupation is low and repellent, yet it is she who embodies compassion, faith, and love.  There is Porfiry Petrovich, who on the surface seems like a sort of Russian Poirot investigating Raskolnikov's case, but proves to be more than that.  He knows - he waits, he sympathizes, he wants rehabilitation - not just punishment.  There is a terrible, vile villain called Svidrigailov, whose presence in the novel shows us what true alienation from God and man looks like.  He is a sort of foil for Raskolnikov, for whom there is still hope.  Raskolnikov's best friend Razumihkin is his voice of reason and sanity, and the love plot between Razumihkin and Raskolnikov's sister Dunia adds another interesting layer to the story.

Crime and Punishment is one of the truly great works of literature.  It is both rich in symbolism and gritty in its realism.  It forces us to confront our own prejudices and capacity for compassion.  By turns psychologically gripping and suspenseful, terrifying, profoundly sad, and hopeful, this work demands much of the reader, and gives much in return.  

Sunday, January 5, 2025

Victorian Reading Challenge 2025

The Victorian Reading Challenge returns, dear Reader!  After careful deliberation, duly considering the investment of time and fatigue of the wrists occasioned by these ponderous volumes, I have concluded that the profit to the intellect and imaginative faculties far outweighs any perceived disadvantages. (As the Victorians might put it.)  The 2024 Victorian Reading Challenge  was one of the highlights of my year in reading, and I have decided to repeat the challenge for as many years as I can.

This year I have changed up a few of the categories, while the decade categories remain the same to ensure broad reading across the Victorian era. 

Here are this year's categories, along with my choices:

The Woman Question - The Odd Women by George Gissing
Book with a place as the title - Deerbrook by Harriet Martineau
Book published in serial format - East Lynne by Ellen Wood
Book published 1837-1840s - Mary Barton by Elizabeth Gaskell
Book published in the 1850s - David Copperfield by Charles Dickens
Children's Book - The Water-Babies by Charles Kingsley
Book Published in the 1870s - A Pair of Blue Eyes by Thomas Hardy
Book published in the 1860s - The Mill on the Floss by George Eliot
Wilkie Collins - Armadale
Mystery, Suspense, Sensation - Lady Audley's Secret by Mary Elizabeth Braddon
Book published 1890s-1901 - Trilby by George du Maurier
Book published in the 1880s - The Woodlanders by Thomas Hardy

The Woman Question replaces Female Author, as I will always read several female authors anyway.  In Victorian times, "the woman question" referred to debates surrounding women's roles and rights.  Book with a place as the title replaces Book with a name as the title.  Wilkie Collins is replacing Anthony Trollope in the specific author category.  I've kept Children's Book as a category this year, to prompt myself to read the weirdness that is The Water Babies, though we will probably lose that category next year.  And yes, I am already planning next year's challenge!  I might host it as a more formal challenge next year.  Feel free to join me this year at any time, if you like!

My book choices for this year are heavy on sensation novels and women's issues, with a couple of Thomas Hardys thrown in for good measure.  And, of course, David Copperfield, because it's high time I read it.

Saturday, January 4, 2025

Tea and Ink Society 2025 Classics Reading Challenge


I enjoyed last year's Tea and Ink Society reading challenge so much, I've decided to participate again.  I love the unexpected categories Elsie devises - not only are they fun, but they draw me into reading things I might not otherwise have picked up at a particular time.  Like last year, the idea behind this challenge is to read one classic book (pre-1970) for each month in the year.  Here are this year's categories:

January: A classic you discover in a used bookstore
February: A Russian novel or short story collection
March: A classic about immigrants or pioneers
April: A classic set on your own turf
May: A book you were supposed to read in school
June: Nonfiction nature writing
July: A science fiction novel or short story collection
August: A classic by an author you’ve only read once
September: A classic World War I or World War II novel
October: A Jane Austen novel
November: A poetry collection by one of the Romantic poets
December: A Medieval or Renaissance classic

And here is what I have so far:

January:  A Man for All Seasons by Robert Bolt
February:  The Shooting Party by Anton Chekhov
March:  O Pioneers! by Willa Cather
April:  The Shepherd of the Hills by Harold Bell Wright
May:  Just So Stories by Rudyard Kipling
June:  Summer by Dallas Lore Sharp
July:  The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham
August:  Barchester Towers by Anthony Trollope
September:  The End of the Affair by Graham Greene
October:  Persuasion by Jane Austen
November:  Lyric Poems by John Keats
December:  

A classic you discover in a used bookstore is such a delightful category.  Ideally I would go browse the shelves this month and select something that catches my eye, but I am far away from used bookstores at present.  Instead I've chosen A Man for All Seasons by Robert Bolt, which I picked up on a memorable day in my very favorite used bookstore.  I received an unexpected discount that day for expressing my appreciation of the New Wave music on the radio and generally having a good time.

For February, we're turning to Russian literature, which will have some people quaking in their fur-lined boots, and others rubbing their mittened hands together with glee.  Though I have a few suitable titles already on my Classics Club list, I went rogue and chose The Shooting Party by Anton Chekhov.  Chekhov is best known for his plays, but this, his only novel, is... a murder mystery!

I went for the obvious choice for March.  A book about pioneers - let me see, how about O Pioneers! by Willa Cather?  My first Willa Cather novel ever.

A regional classic was a real challenge.  I'm away from home right now, but will be back home by the time April rolls around.  I chose The Shepherd of the Hills, an Ozark classic written in 1907 by Harold Bell Wright, well known here and probably never heard of outside this region.  Basically I didn't want to read True Grit right now.

May brings us A book you were supposed to read in school.  In my fourth grade classroom, there was a shelf of books we were encouraged to read if we had free time.  Among these was a copy of Just So Stories by Rudyard Kipling which I started but never finished.  Now's my chance. 

For nonfiction nature writing in June, I've chosen a volume from a seasonal series I'm reading by Dallas Lore Sharp (1870-1929).  I will have completed the Winter and Spring volumes by the time June is here.  The series was written between 1909 - 1913, so it's an interesting example of early American nature writing.

In July the Triffids menace the world!  Here is a post-apocalyptic tale of giant plants with poisonous stingers who turn on their human masters.  Are they alien?  Were they bioengineered by the Russians?  We shall see.  I've been wanting more John Wyndham ever since I read The Midwich Cuckoos, which I will always rave about.

It's Trollope for August as I continue to make my way through his Chronicles of Barsetshire.  I've only read The Warden so far, and Barchester Towers is next in the series.

A classic WWI or WWII novel was the most daunting category.  I decided on The End of the Affair, my first Graham Greene.  Though I was tempted by Elsie's suggestion of Green for Danger, a murder mystery by Christianna Brand.  Maybe I'll do both?

2025 marks the 250th anniversary of the birth of Jane Austen.  Many celebrations and read-alongs are taking place, so it is only fitting that she gets a category this year.  I'll be re-reading Persuasion, for the first time in a long time.  I adore Jane Austen, so this is a treat.

Romantic poets for November was a surprise, and another treat.  I shall walk amongst the withered sedge along the lake where no birds sing with Keats.

I love the idea of a medieval or Renaissance classic for December.  Perfect for the contemplative mood of Advent or the festive mood of Christmas.  Candlelight, evergreens, and medieval literature - what could be better?  I'm leaving this category open, though I do have Piers Ploughman on my Classics Club list.


Friday, December 20, 2024

The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer


Whan that Aprill, with his shoures soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote
And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
Of which vertu engendred is the flour...

The Canterbury Tales has been haunting my reading list for a long, long time. It is with great joy and satisfaction that I have finally read this work in its entirety.  I have read a handful of the tales before, but now I have read them all - and I do mean all.  My Penguin Classics edition only gave The Tale of Melibee and The Parson's Tale in synopsis, but I hunted down the complete versions and read those, too.   If you skip The Parson's Tale, you avoid a 100-page sermon on the Seven Deadly Sins, but you will also miss the most epic tirade against tight pants ever written, so you have to make a choice.  I read all of the tales in modern English, though, like many, I have played with learning a bit of the Prologue in Middle English.

Chaucer employs a frame story to tie all of the tales together: a disparate group of pilgrims have a storytelling contest as they travel to Canterbury to visit the shrine of Thomas Becket.  But the really fun thing about The Canterbury Tales is that the tales are written in a variety of literary forms: courtly romance, beast fable, fabliau, mock heroic poem, and sermon, to name a few.   Chaucer's writing style will fit the form he's chosen - but the form will fit the particular character telling the story.  And what a cast of characters!  The knight, the miller, the Wife of Bath, the clerk, the reeve, the friar, the summoner - the list goes on.  It's important never to skip the prologue to any tale.  That's where the teller's personality is developed, through their own words and their interactions with other pilgrims.  All of this will give us clues as to how to read the individual tales.  Sometimes a tale is told in response to another character - look out for sly digs and insults! 

The Wife of Bath

Sometimes bawdy, sometimes serious, sometimes hilarious, sometimes critical, sometimes romantic... The Canterbury Tales is a literary tour de force, and a rollicking good time.  A tale or two plucked from its context in a literature class really doesn't do justice to the work - you lose the sense of the whole and all of the interplay between the characters.  

I enjoyed it so much, I have two other books on my list to deepen my understanding of Chaucer and the tales.  The first is Chaucer and His Poetry by George Lyman Kittredge.  You might say Kittredge was the OG Chaucer scholar, and his work remains influential.  Then there is Chaucer by G.K. Chesterton.  I really liked his biography of Robert Louis Stevenson, so I want to read more of his literary lives. 


I leave you, dear Reader, with an edifying quote from The Parson's Tale:

"After that, let us speak of scorn, which is a wicked sin; especially when one scorns a man for his good works. For truly, such scorners are like the foul toad, which cannot bear to smell the sweet odour of the vine when it blossoms."

Saturday, November 9, 2024

The Golden Ass by Lucius Apuleius

The Golden Ass (also known as the Metamorphoses) is a picaresque novel from the 2nd century, and the only ancient Roman novel in Latin to survive in its entirety.  It has a notorious reputation, well-deserved, because it is as rude and ribald as people say it is.  The narrator, Lucius, is interested in the magical arts and convinces his lady friend (maid to a witch) to sneak him into her mistress' room so he can try out a spell.  Lucius attempts to transform himself into a bird, but his reckless curiosity is justly punished when he is instead transformed into an ass.  The maid tells him not to worry - the antidote is eating roses.  Lucius must spend the night in the stable, and she'll bring him some roses in the morning.  Of course, this doesn't go to plan and Lucius (in his ass form) is stolen by a gang of abusive bandits in the night.  What follows is a cross between an episodic adventure story and a sort of X-rated Black Beauty.  Lucius Apuleius is an engaging storyteller with an exuberant style - unfortunately, his choice of subject matter is often cringeworthy.  There are several inset tales within the narrative - most notably, the story of Cupid and Psyche, here appearing for the first time in Western literature.  

Ultimately, Lucius is transformed back into a man when he calls for divine aid and is answered by the goddess Isis.  There is a marked change in tone in the last bit of the novel, as Lucius prepares for initiation into the mystery cult of Isis through a lengthy course of fasting, abstinence, and study.  He eventually becomes an initiate into the cult of Osiris as well.  

What to make of this story?  Some of the content I just didn't want to dwell on, and some of the tales within a tale didn't really stay with me.  I did notice that descent to the Underworld is a recurring motif - various allusions, the tale of Cupid and Psyche, etc.  A (metaphorical) descent to the Underworld is part of an initiation experience: a death of the old self and rebirth of a new self.  In the beginning, when Lucius tries to transform into a bird (symbolic of spiritual wisdom/elevation), he is grabbing for something without understanding or preparation.  Instead he becomes an ass, a very earthly, plodding beast - also a patient, longsuffering beast.  This is a descent of sorts as well, filled with trials.  It is only when he calls for divine aid that he is able to transform back into a man.  We tend to associate roses with love and beauty, but in ancient Rome, they had additional associations of rebirth and death. They were used as funerary flowers and associated with the Romanized cult of Isis.  Lucius must further undergo physical preparation, devotions, and study to complete his final "rebirth" as an initiate of the mysteries of Isis and Osiris.  So I believe that on one level The Golden Ass can represent the journey of the soul.

The tale-within-a-tale of Cupid and Psyche is a microcosm of The Golden Ass.  Both Psyche and Lucius transgress a boundary - they display improper curiosity and break a prohibition.  Both must then undergo many trials and a descent to the Underworld (literally or metaphorically).  Both must call upon divine aid to complete their metamorphoses.

An English translation of The Golden Ass by William Adlington appeared in 1566, and it likely influenced Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream, when Bottom is transformed into an ass.  In addition, C.S. Lewis' novel Till We Have Faces retells the story of Cupid and Psyche from the point of view of Psyche's sister.  That one is on my reading list!

Friday, October 25, 2024

The Vampyre and Other Tales of the Macabre by John Polidori and others


This collection of "Tales of the Macabre" is very uneven in style, tone, and quality.  The introduction tells us that this collection was put together to complement a previous Oxford volume, Tales of Terror from Blackwood's Magazine.  Blackwood's, based in Edinburgh, Scotland, was extremely influential and widely read in the 19th century, containing essays on political and social issues, as well as literary offerings.  It published works by the likes of Percy Bysshe Shelley, Sir Walter Scott, William Godwin, James Hogg, and Samuel Taylor Coleridge, thus contributing to the development of the Romantic movement.  The Tale of Terror was in its heyday, and the magazines supplied the reading public with a steady stream of the macabre, horrific, and sensational.


Not content with limiting themselves with tales of terror from Blackwood's magazine, Oxford produced The Vampyre and Other Tales of the Macabre: "The aim of the present collection, however, is to exhibit the variety and vitality of the terror-tales and similarly macabre fiction published in the rival magazines  of London and Dublin, in the two decades following the appearance of Polidori's tale; that is, the 1820s and 1830s."  These are very narrow parameters, which limit the scope and quality of tales included in this collection.  

"Sir Guy Eveling's Dream" by Horace Smith is written in a pseudo-archaic style so bizarre and convoluted, with vocabulary to rival Jabberwocky, that I thought I might have hit my head and not realized it as I struggled to make sense of it all.

The absolute worst tale here has to be "Confessions of a Reformed Ribbonman" by William Carleton.  It reminded me of the torture that is reading The Valley of Fear, that blight on the Sherlock Holmes canon loosely based on the Molly Maguires and Pinkerton detectives.  The Ribbonmen were a secret society of violent Irish radicals.  While their midnight meeting in a chapel has imagery suggestive of a Black Mass, this tale quickly descends into gruesome (and disgusting) descriptions of violence.  This type of story is not the type of macabre story that I like.

I found "The Red Man" by Catherine Gore lurid and in extremely poor taste.  Miss Gore lived up to her name.

Putting these three aside, the rest of the tales were interesting and engaging to varying degrees, and a couple of them were real gems.  Madness, fears of being buried alive, the bodysnatching craze of 19th century, castles, secret passages, graveyards, and curses all make an appearance.  I loved the fairytale imagery (with a twist) in "The Bride of Lindorf," and the folklore feel of "The Master of Logan."   One of the best tales was "Passage in the Secret History of an Irish Countess" by the Irish Gothic writer Sheridan Le Fanu.  This one is part tale of terror, part locked room mystery, and was later developed into Le Fanu's novel Uncle Silas.  

Of course the real draw of this collection is "The Vampyre" by John Polidori.  I think a discussion of Dr. Polidori's tale merits its own post at some future date.  For now, suffice it to say that this is the tale that launched the vampire craze in literature which carries on to this day, and was the product of that infamous ghost story competition which also gave us Mary Shelley's Frankenstein.  This Oxford edition provides a bit of introductory material and notes on the publishing history.  It includes the "Letter from Geneva" that accompanied the anonymous manuscript to the publishing house, as well as a later "Note on 'The Vampyre'" by Polidori and Byron's "Fragment" which influenced Polidori's tale.

This Oxford collection would earn a place on my shelves for Polidori alone, but I very much enjoyed some of these other tales of the macabre.

Chosen for my Tea and Ink Society 2024 Classics Reading Challenge for October: a spooky classic or short story collection.

Sunday, October 20, 2024

Reading Journal


I'm most eager to share the results of my Classics Club Spin.  Spin #39 was announced last Saturday, and I have been agog with anticipation awaiting the results.  As of this morning, the Wheel has spoken, and I will be reading The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer!  I have only read selected tales, so I am excited to read this work in its entirety.  My list is always compiled using a random number generator, but, weirdly, it generated several Gothic tales this time.  I was convinced that I'd get one of those, but I am not disappointed.

This week I started making my way through Tremendous Trifles, an essay collection by G.K. Chesterton.  There is no writer quite like Chesterton, in style or substance; he's always an interesting read.  I particularly loved a passage from the essay "A Piece of Chalk," which, on the surface, is about young Chesterton drawing with chalks upon brown paper out in the countryside:

They are much better worth drawing than Nature; also they are much easier to draw. When a cow came slouching by in the field next to me, a mere artist might have drawn it; but I always get wrong in the hind legs of quadrupeds. So I drew the soul of the cow; which I saw there plainly walking before me in the sunlight; and the soul was all purple and silver, and had seven horns and the mystery that belongs to all the beasts. But though I could not with a crayon get the best out of the landscape, it does not follow that the landscape was not getting the best out of me. And this, I think, is the mistake that people make about the old poets who lived before Wordsworth, and were supposed not to care very much about Nature because they did not describe it much.

They preferred writing about great men to writing about great hills; but they sat on the great hills to write it. They gave out much less about Nature, but they drank in, perhaps, much more. They painted the white robes of their holy virgins with the blinding snow, at which they had stared all day. They blazoned the shields of their paladins with the purple and gold of many heraldic sunsets. The greenness of a thousand green leaves clustered into the live green figure of Robin Hood. The blueness of a score of forgotten skies became the blue robes of the Virgin. The inspiration went in like sunbeams and came out like Apollo.

I love nature art of all sorts, from Romantic landscape to medieval manuscript borders to natural history illustration, so I was dubious about the start of this passage.  By the end, my breath was taken away.  I love where Chesterton went with this - artists and poets were always taking inspiration from nature on the plane of symbol and emotion, if not as direct copyists.

I finished three books this week, two of them on the same day!  On Wednesday I finally wrapped up Vanity Fair, which I have been reading for weeks, and also finished We Have Always Lived in the Castle, which was a short read.  On Friday I came to the end of The Compleat Angler by Izaak Walton.  Reviews to follow.

I did read some spooky stories from The Vampyre and Other Tales of the Macabre by John Polidori and others, but nothing that has really thrilled me yet.


COMMONPLACE QUOTE OF THE WEEK

"Once I planned to write a book of poems entirely about the things in my pockets. But I found it would be too long; and the age of the great epics is past." - G.K. Chesterton, "A Piece of Chalk," from Tremendous Trifles


ART OF THE WEEK

Jane Morris: Study for "Mariana" by Dante Gabriel Rossetti, 1868

Chalk on brown paper, in honor of Chesterton's essay. :)  This is a study of Jane Morris which Rossetti later referred to for his painting of Mariana, completed in 1870.  "Mariana" is a poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, based on the character of Mariana in Shakespeare's Measure for Measure.  Tennyson's poem very much inspired the Pre-Raphaelites, with Millais and John William Waterhouse also creating paintings based upon it.  The subject of a poem is a woman weary from waiting for her lover to return, forlorn, isolated, and despondent.  I actually prefer this chalk drawing to Rossetti's later painting - it better captures that expression of melancholy weariness on Jane's face, and her very posture seems listless and tired.  What makes you weary, Jane?  Is it your marriage to William Morris?  Is casting you as Mariana a sly comment by Rossetti that you should prefer him?


Monday, October 14, 2024

The Castle of Otranto (1977)

When I finished reading The Castle of Otranto, I checked to see if there had ever been any film adaptations of the story, though I had never heard of any.  Imagine my delight when I discovered this short film from 1977, directed by Czech surrealist filmmaker Jan Švankmajer.  Only 17 minutes long, it's structured as a mockumentary frame story in live action, featuring an adaptation of the story itself presented in cut-out animation.    


The film is set at a castle in Czechoslovakia, where amateur archaeologist Dr. Vozáb is being interviewed by a reporter.  Dr. Vozáb relates that Walpole's Gothic novel is based upon true events, and that the story has its origin not in the Italian town of Otranto, but here at the Czech Castle Orthany, near Náchod.  We are shown artifacts the good doctor has uncovered, and take a walk to the caves where Isabella hid.  The doctor's findings grow ever more fantastic, and I won't say more lest I spoil it for you!


Cut-out animation was the perfect medium to tell the story.  In the very first scene, we are looking at an actual book edition of The Castle of Otranto, turning pages and then focusing on an illustration of a castle.  It fills the frame and we begin to explore the illustration, subtly transitioning into exploring the interior of the illustrated castle, which we could not have have done by looking at the page in the book.  The lines between the tangible reality of the book and the imaginative world of the story have been blurred, mirroring the inner experience of an engaged imagination while reading.  The physical book begins to fade into the background as we read; we "live" in the story.  Cut-out animation is book illustration come to almost life.  It retains a slightly static, paperlike and two-dimensional storybook quality.  We are in a book, but the words are beginning to take on life, as scenes cut back and forth between turning pages and animated figures.  The juxtaposition of the scenes of the archaeologist and the reporter exploring the castle and looking at artifacts with the animated story world blur the lines between reality and imagination even further, until the glorious ending, when the two worlds merge into one.

The artwork and the overall tone of the film have that touch of macabre humor I always enjoy.  I feel like Edward Gorey would have liked this film.

Watch it HERE

Sunday, October 13, 2024

Classics Club Spin #39


An October wind is blowing, the pale moon peeks from behind the clouds, the hoot of an owl rings out in the night as Lady Fortuna's hand hovers at the Wheel... Classics Club Spin #39 is Fraught with Peril!  Gothic novels, fiends, satanic pacts, dark secrets, ruined castles, and Our Mutual Friend!  

What literary terrors await?  We find out on Sunday, October 20th!

1.  Rob Roy - Sir Walter Scott
2.  The Lottery and Other Stories - Shirley Jackson
3.  The Canterbury Tales - Geoffrey Chaucer
4.  Recollections of the Lakes and the Lake Poets - Thomas De Quincey
5.  From the Earth to the Moon - Jules Verne
6.  The Book of Margery Kempe - Margery Kempe
7.  The Mill on the Floss - George Eliot
8.  The Scarlet Pimpernel - Baroness Orczy
9.  Faust - Goethe
10.  Nightmare Abbey - Thomas Love Peacock
11.  The Mysteries of Udolpho - Ann Radcliffe
12.  A Sentimental Journey - Laurence Sterne
13.  Gulliver's Travels - Jonathan Swift
14.  Melmoth the Wanderer - Charles Maturin
15.  Confessions of an English Opium Eater - Thomas De Quincey
16.  Lady Audley's Secret - Mary Elizabeth Braddon
17.  Piers Ploughman - William Langland
18.  The Monarch of the Glen - Compton Mackenzie
19.  Our Mutual Friend - Charles Dickens
20.  Barchester Towers - Anthony Trollope

Update:  THE WHEEL HAS SPOKEN!  I will be reading The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer.

Saturday, October 12, 2024

Reading Journal

It's October, so it's time to pull out my collections of ghost stories and classic tales of horror for some spooky seasonal reading.  Where to start?  Perhaps "Green Tea" by Sheridan Le Fanu, or "The Wendigo" by Algernon Blackwood.

Perhaps the biggest news in reading this week is that I finally finished The Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan.  It certainly feels good to have come to the end of that particular pilgrimage.  I also read Rasselas this week, completing my first book by Samuel Johnson.  


On Monday morning, I woke early and read Treacle Walker by Alan Garner in one sitting.  Some of Garner's books can go quickly like this.  I have been a fan of Alan Garner ever since discovering the 1969 Granada television adaptation of his novel The Owl Service, in which the Welsh myth of Blodeuwedd manifests in the lives of three teenagers in 1960's Wales.  Treacle Walker and Garner's novel Elidor also explore the theme of myth, folklore, and ancient landscape memory intersecting with the modern "ordinary" world, making our world seem not so ordinary.


I have just started We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson.  The story is told from the perspective of a young woman named Merricat Blackwood.  So far all I know is that the Blackwood family are decidedly unpopular in the small town, for some mysterious reason.  This is my second book by Shirley Jackson.  I absolutely loved The Haunting of Hill House.  I plan to re-read it again someday, and would highly recommend it for spooky season reading.

I have been distressed by the loss of Open Library and Internet Archive this week, as I'm sure many readers are.  How can I read my York Mystery Plays and my Mircea Eliade??  Hopefully both will be back online soon.


COMMONPLACE QUOTE OF THE WEEK

"The best safeguard against bad literature is a full experience of good; just as a real and affectionate acquaintance with honest people gives a better protection against rogues than a habitual distrust of everyone." - C.S. Lewis, An Experiment in Criticism


ART OF THE WEEK

Landscape with Grave, Coffin, and Owl by Caspar David Friedrich, ca 1836

Something for Halloween season!  The German Romantic painter Caspar David Friedrich is best known for his landscapes of mist, craggy mountains, blasted trees, and Gothic ruins.  He sought to experience the sublime in the contemplation of nature.  Full of symbolism and sometimes religious mysticism, his art sought to evoke an emotional response in the viewer.  Several of his works explore themes of mortality, the transience of human endeavors, and the endurance of nature, as in this sepia drawing from 1836.  An owl, long associated with wisdom and death, directly confronts the viewer and serves as a living memento mori, a pale moon rising above his horns like a ghostly crown or halo - or a rising spirit, as birds have deep associations with Spirit and spirit-flight, as well as the wisdom of the Holy Spirit.  No human being is visible in the drawing; we can only infer human presence by the coffin and the discarded tools of the gravediggers.  In the foreground grow two thistles, known for their wild beauty and hardiness: nature endures when man's spirit has flown.

Friday, October 11, 2024

The History of Rasselas by Samuel Johnson


"Ye who listen with credulity to the whispers of fancy, and pursue with eagerness the phantoms of hope; who expect that age will perform the promises of youth, and that the deficiencies of the present day will be supplied by the morrow, attend to the history of Rasselas, Prince of Abissinia."

So begins The History of Rasselas, Prince of Abissinia, a short philosophical novel written by Samuel Johnson in 1759.  Dr. Johnson is perhaps best known today for being the subject of the lengthy classic biography The Life of Samuel Johnson, written by the devoted Boswell.  He was, in fact. an eminent man of letters, having written poetry, plays, essays, sermons, biographies, a travel book about the western islands of Scotland, and a Dictionary of the English Language.  His reputation loomed large over the field of English letters for decades, and allusions to him in literature abound.  Even if still known by reputation, readers of his work seem to have diminished.  Truthfully, I'm not sure if Rasselas would have been on my radar had it not been mentioned by Charlotte Mason, and in turn found its way onto the booklists of Ambleside Online.  I've known about Johnson for many years; I haven't read Johnson until now.

Attempting to approach reading Rasselas as one would a conventional novel is likely going to lead to confusion and possibly disappointment.  Sometimes referred to as a moral fable or philosophical romance,  Rasselas may be best considered as an apologue: "a short fable or allegorical story, meant to serve as a pleasant vehicle for some moral doctrine or to convey some useful lesson."  In an apologue, the narrative details and characters are subordinate to the moral truth the author wants to convey.  Some scholars don't like to call Rasselas a "novel" at all.  Once we understand all this, we're in a better position to appreciate Rasselas and what Dr. Johnson was trying to do with this book.



How should we live?  What mode of life will foster happiness?  These are the fundamental human questions at the heart of Rasselas' quest.  Rasselas' story begins when he is a young man, a wealthy Prince of Abyssinia, living a sequestered life in Happy Valley, where "all the diversities of the world were brought together, the blessings of nature were collected, and its evils extracted and excluded."  Life is devoted to pleasure and amusement, delicacies and comforts. "Every art was practised to make them pleased with their own condition."  Happy Valley is surrounded by a mountain fastness, and communication with the outside world is barred by an iron gate, only to be opened once a year for an eight-day festival. "Thus every year produced new scenes of delight, and new competitors for imprisonment."    This is not the only time Happy Valley is likened to a prison.  This Pleasure Garden is a False Eden, a bubble of artificial happiness which depends on shutting out the miseries of the world and keeping its residents in ignorance.  Ignorance is bliss - or is it?

Rasselas feels a sense of discontent, a longing for more, and a curiosity about the wider world.  "Man surely has some latent sense for which this place affords no gratification; or he has some desire distinct from sense, which must be satisfied before he can be happy," he muses.  He befriends Imlac, a poet and engineer who has come to Happy Valley from the outside world during one of the festivals.  The two plot their escape, and tunnel their way upwards and outwards, accompanied by Rasseslas' sister Nekayah and her maid Pekuah.  

The quest begins, and adventures follow, with each short chapter encapsulating some mode or station in life to be evaluated.  Rasselas has told us: "I am resolved to judge with mine own eyes of the various conditions of men, and then to make deliberately my choice of life.”  The choice of life is a phrase which recurs throughout the book.  We meet Epicureans, Stoics, the wealthy, the poor.  We muse about the life lived according to nature, and the life pastoral.  We discuss the merits of marriage and the life of solitude.  Does youth afford the greatest happiness?  Is old age free from vexation?  

The final destination of their travels is the catacombs near Cairo.  They descend and wander in labyrinthine subterraneous passages, discoursing on the nature of the soul.  Confronted with mortality, their thoughts turn to the shortness of their present state.  Is this endless searching after the choice of life really profitable?  “To me,” said the Princess, “the choice of life is become less important; I hope hereafter to think only on the choice of eternity.”  In the end, they determine to return home to Abyssinia.  Perhaps the most important sentence in the book was spoken by our poet-engineer: “It seems to me,” said Imlac, “that while you are making the choice of life you neglect to live."



Since some refer to Rasselas as a "philosophical romance," I wanted to consider the romance elements of the story, so I turned to The Secular Scripture: A Study of the Structure of Romance by Northrop Frye.  Frye tells us that ascent and descent are the primary narrative movements in literature.  In the beginning of Rasselas, we have an ascent from a lower world when Rasselas & co. tunnel upwards out of the prison of Happy Valley.  Frye points out that "the lower world is sometimes a world of cruelty and imprisonment; sometimes an oracular cave."  In Rasselas we do have this prison imagery, and a sense of an enclosed space that must be tunneled out of.  Frye says, "We found that in descent narratives the central image is that of metamorphosis, the freezing of something human and conscious into an animal or plant or inanimate object.  Ascent themes introduce us to the opposite kind of metamorphosis, the growing of identity through the casting off of whatever conceals or frustrates it.  The simplest form of such ascending metamorphosis is the removal of enchantment, in which an animal disguise or something parallel is replaced by the original human form."  The inhabitants of Happy Valley are under a sort of enchantment.  Rasselas makes several comparisons of his own state to those of the beasts there, and while he sees certain similarities, he ultimately concludes that he is something more than they are.  He goes on an identity quest.  For when he seeks to make his choice of life, when he wonders how man should live, the true underlying question is not only Who am I? but What is man?  When the group visits the catacombs, this is a descent into the underworld.  Like the shades in Classical Hades, the bones of the dead in the catacombs impart their own wisdom:  Man is a mortal creature whose earthly time is limited.  His physical body will decay, but his immortal soul is eternal.  The group return to their homeland, their quest complete.