. . . a bibliophile's blog . . . an online paean to the printed page and the bound word.
(And maybe films will be mentioned. And art. And food. And life in general.)
I've mentioned my admiration for Laurie R. King's ability to recreate an authentic-feeling Sherlock Holmes in her Mary Russell series before, but each time I read another instalment in the series I seem to be blown away all over again. I've just finished Locked Rooms and (as I say virtually every time I finish a Mary Russell novel) this one might be my favourite of the series (that I've read so far . . . I'm reading them in order). It includes an appearance or two of a fictionalized Dashiell Hammett, and there was much more of Sherlock Holmes than I was expecting (which I loved). King's Sherlock Holmes is definitely appealing. The relationship between Russell and Holmes -- which preserves and supports the independence of each -- is balanced and believable for two such passionately cerebral characters.
This novel finds Russell and Holmes in San Francisco, delving into Russell's past. San Francisco in the 1920s is rendered so well. And I found it the perfect setting for exploring the cultural and chronological differences between the characters; Russell must face some disconcerting (and dangerous) details about a past she's sublimated. And Holmes is not willing to stand by and watch her struggle alone. That they both have a tendency to keep emotions in check, are more comfortable with the intellect, makes Holmes' job of 'looking after' Russell quite complicated indeed. Glorious characterization!
King novels are so much more than just plot (plot isn't the strongest element in these novels, really, nor does it need to be). The stories focus on the character development, are rich in detail, and contain interesting moral, ethical, and, at times, theological or socio-religious issues to chew over. Gender, sexuality, feminism, class, all the issues that remain relevant are tackled by two of the greatest fictional minds. Have I mentioned how much I truly admire King's writing? Love it, love it, love it!
Monday, 18 April, 2011
One of the few nice things about being bedridden with a nasty bug? Re-reading 84, Charing Cross Road (I was inspired to do so by this lovely post). And now I want to watch the film again, but need to replace my old (now unwatchable) copy before I can. Alas.
There's nothing like a cold to make one appreciate a good Britcom even more. Diverting, comforting, not unintelligent, funny without being too silly. What more can one ask when one just wants relax and feel better?
This week, since I've been mostly bed-ridden with one nasty, nasty cold, I indulged in some Britcom viewing, specifically As Time Goes By . . . all of the episodes I could get my hands on. I hadn't thought about As Time Goes By for years. I only saw a few episodes (on PBS) several years ago, but the chemistry between Dame Judi Dench and Geoffrey Palmer made it stand out (and just listening to Palmer talk is comforting all on its own).
I don't know whether you've ever seen any episodes, but it centres on the romance between middle-aged Jean (Dench) and Lionel (Palmer). They'd met and fell in love when young (thirty-eight years before), but a series of circumstances separated them. When, by chance, they meet up again, it's an opportunity for a happy ending (with many misunderstandings and much hilarty). Further complications involve, for Lionel, sharing a house with three women (Jean, her daughter, and her secretary). Romantic (without being unrealistic), funny, and sometimes just plain old sweet, I found it a lovely way to spend some time waiting for the cold-related symptoms to abate (and they've just started to this evening . . . at last!).
Anyway, here's a little clip of Palmer reading poetry (see what I mean about his voice?):
What an intense tale! And what a narrator. It made for quite a few hours of positive spookiness while reading late at night. Another hard-to-put-down book. After reading about the crazy family in The Thin Man, I was pleased to become acquainted with another 'crazy' family in The Little Stranger by Sarah Waters. Of course, there's more to it than craziness (or is there?) and I found it wonderfully diverting while enduring this nasty cold.
The house, Hundreds Hall, is as much a character as any of the people. And the post-war malaise that threatens the reality of the gentry is palpably rendered through its characterization. The characters -- Mrs. Ayres, her children Roderick and Caroline, and the narrator, Dr. Faraday -- are wonderfully fleshed out. I just found myself sinking into the story. It was completely absorbing, as all the best books should be.
I can't say I really enjoyed this novel. Set in the 1970s, it's about a Jewish family from Latvia who are leaving the Soviet Union for (initially) America. They end up in Rome while waiting for news about which country they'll be allowed to immigrate to. There's a bit of violence, there's a bit of personal history for each of the characters, there's some sex. And that's about it, really. Not my cup of tea. The writing felt too heavy, perhaps .. . or, more likely, I didn't really see a point to the story.
I didn't find this novel by Wright to be as interesting as his Clara Callan(which I'd read and enjoyed several years ago), but it definitely wasn't boring. The historical novel, set in Cromwell's England, is told from the perspective of an old servant who wishes to write a record of her past, including the revelation that she is William Shakespeare's illegitimate daughter. The strength of the story rests in the strength of the narrator as a character, and since Aerlene Ward is introduced to us right away as a distinctive voice, the novel generally pleases. The most interesting part of the story occurs when we learn about Aerlene's time in London . . . when she gets to meet her father. Is it a profound or profoundly moving tale? Not really. But it held my interest.
Currently Tempted By: As you've probably noticed, I tend to shy away from book challenges and all things related thereto. Since I do a lot of reviewing away from the Overdecorated Bookcase, I wanted a blog that was unfettered, not tied to any requirements/restrictions/whathaveyou. Of course, that having been said, sometimes a list of books or a tasty challenge comes up that truly, truly tempts me and I give in. Take, for example, this tasty temptation: International Anita Brookner Day. I've been meaning to read some Brookner anyway . . . so this seems to fit into my plans as opposed to co-opting them. :) And I do love it when I can find a good excuse to buy another book on my must-read list.
Recently Read: Laisha Rosnau's lousy explorers. Published by the oft-reliable Nightwood Editions, this volume of poems wasn't really my cup of tea. Though Rosnau does employ an interesting mix of the domestic with a good dollop of choice poetic diction. But the transformative is too often hidden behind the domestic. There is still too much emphasis on the everyday, for my taste. Relationships are privileged, between spouses, between family members, which is interesting. Much is made of pregnancy, which is less interesting. The underside of life is highlighted, at times. Rosnau does have a trick of language that (mostly) redeems it from the confessional tone, but it won't go on a list of my favourites. Alas.
Recently Read and LOVED: Also from Nightwood,* the glorious, glorious When I Was Young & In My Prime by Alayna Munce. What Munce can do with the simple sentence, the telling line! Wonderful stuff. I'd been putting off reading it for two reasons. First, I was afraid that if I didn't like it I would be terribly disappointed (it looked and sounded like just my kind of novel and so I really wanted to like it). Second, I was worried that if I did like it, it would just consume my time (time meant to be spent on less lovely things like work obligations). Sure enough, I loved it and it consumed my attention. I couldn't put it down. Housework? What housework? Work? What work? Nothing held my attention but this absolutely flawless work of prose and poetry.
A story that centres on one woman's family in transition -- her grandparents are each fading in their own, particular ways -- it is so much that and so much more than that. Poetic descriptions, profound comments on the human condition . . . I just found myself sinking into the writing and reveling in the words. About loss (life, memory, family) and about what is valuable, what remains and what fades, the story just opens up in one's imagination. Wonderful book: "There is nothing that is not exotic. We're all, all of us, just visiting."
Recently Watched and LOVED: Barton Fink(1991). Yes, how could I not have watched Barton Fink before now? I mean, it's about writers and writing. It's set in an interesting time, an interesting place (1940s Hollywood). It stars John Turturro (love him) and features John Goodman (love him, too). And, best of all, it is a Coen Brothers movie!! Yet I watched it for the first time just this past week. The gaps in my film watching are almost as embarrassing as the gaps in my reading. Alas. Well, I'll just have to improve the situation by watching more great films. Doesn't sound too bad to me.
Currently Reading and Enjoying: I finally decided to give Sarah Waters' The Little Strangera try over breakfast this morning (plain old cereal always looks better with a book). I'm enjoying it so far.
* Thanks to Nightwood for the copies. Many, many thanks, actually.
Tuesday, 5 April, 2011
Now I must read Laurie R. King's Locked Rooms sooner rather than the later the novel seems to have been relegated to on my must-read list. Having just finished (and enjoyed) Dashiell Hammett's The Thin Man, I find that the author makes an appearance in King's aforementioned novel. Of course, I don't really need another reason to want to read King's Russell novels (love King, love her character Mary Russell), but it does mean that I have yet another excuse to bump it up on the book-buying list.
It occurs to me that I may be becoming a Hammett fan. I've not read much Hammett, but what I have read has dazzled in that 'hard-boiled' sense he's so famous for. There's something exquisitely jewel-like in the arrangement of his plots, it's like opening a Faberge egg. And this one had the disadvantage of me reading it after I'd seen (and loved) most of the Thin Man movies starring William Powell and Myrna Loy as Nick and Nora Charles. It was a disadvantage because the chemistry between the actors in the film rather outshines the draw of the initial pages of the novel (for me, anyway). But I stuck with it (had to, it's my book club's novel choice for this month) and was won over. It differs from the film significantly, which helps, and inhabits its own brilliantly constructed reality of obsessed daughters, mad fathers, and drinking spouses.
