Feel Like A Little Shakespeare?

I've been rereading Love's Labor's Lost lately . . . and (despite the critics) I love Branagh's film adaptation:





 

In Which I, Uncharacteristically, Talk About Stephen King

Before 11.22.63, I'd only read one Stephen King novel.  And it wasn't one of his typical suspenseful/terrifying tales, either.  It was a mystery. Short, quick read.  Good writing.  I rather enjoyed it.  This one -- 11.22.63 -- was not short, nor was it a particularly quick read, but it makes the second enjoyable King novel I've read and I just might find myself reading more of his stuff in future (after years of steering clear due to my general disinterest in horror/scary books).  That's not to say 11.22.63 didn't have some problems, because it did. I was just pleasantly surprised by King's ability to create a fictional reality within a recreated era.

Granted, 11.22.63 is the kind of novel I'd be bound to enjoy.  Great characterization (the main character really is quite an interesting everyman type), quite a bit of mystery, a moral quandary or two, and a complex plot (more about this in the next paragraph).  Centred on the notion of time travel and the attempt to stop or change a moment in history, the story follows Jake, a high school teacher, as he tries to determine what he can and should do to change that moment (among others, as it happens) at the behest of an ill acquaintance.  And it doesn't really rely heavily on too much sci-fi (there are just little hints and hits of it throughout), the novel really does centre around Jake and the moral complexities he finds himself embroiled in.  What should/can he change? Why does the past seem to work against him? What does/can he really know about the past?  Is it possible to effectively change a thread of reality? And, if so, what does that mean?

As for the ins and outs of plot and whether it worked for me: I'm not sure I bought the first part of the ending with the changed reality of the present (seemed too over the top for me), but I certainly enjoyed getting there.  But the biggest problem I had with the novel wasn't really anything to do with the writing skill of King.  It was the approach to Lee Harvey Oswald which, in a novel that questions what we can know about the past and its effect on the present, was a little heavy-handed.  King isn't one of those writers who buys into any possible conspiracy theory regarding the assassination of JFK.  Nor does he think Oswald was a patsy. In the context of the novel, with its questions about certainty and culpability, this doesn't really grate, but it still doesn't ring true.  Something never has fit about the 'real' Oswald, that's why people have (and still) come up with elaborate theories, etc.  I don't think it's because (as King claims) there is a reluctance to believe in the 'lone nut' possibility.  Honestly, in my lifetime there have been enough lone nuts to make the concept something of a cliche.  No, I buy the reality of the 'lone nut'.  It's just in this case, there's something off. Simple as that.  I'm not into conspiracy theories and I don't obsess over any of the historical players and their possible guilt or innocence, but it does interest me enough to have some (flexible) opinions about it.  


Ultimately, though, a really fun read by an author I'm beginning to respect every time I chance to read anything he's written.  And I really enjoyed some of the questions and quandaries that came up in the game to change history.  To be perfectly frank, I think it could have been an even longer book. I got to the end and wanted more!

A 19th Century Infusion

For some reason, my reading inclination has furnished solely 19th century fare this past week.  Mystery, science fiction, children's lit.  All written and set in my favourite century to read from.  


First, the mystery.  With as many twists as a winding road up the side of a steep mountain, Anna Katharine Green plots the course of the mysterious and ill-fated happenings at the ironically named Happy-Go-Lucky Inn.  Mrs. Truax, the mistress of the inn, is our primary narrator.  And does she have a tale to tell, a haunting incident that forever stains her memory.  Of murky happenings in an oak-lined room, of romance and tragedy and the loss of innocence.  Of noble men and dastardly deeds, of heartbreak and cruelty.  A fascinating novel is The Forsaken Inn, but to say much more is to give too much away.  Though I can't say enough good things about Green's writing.  She had such a gift with narrative voice.  I've read quite a few novels of hers with authentic-sounding male narrators. This one, with its female narrator, is fascinating in terms of the differences in motivation.  The interaction between men and women tends to be highlighted in narratives written by women of this time period (which leads some to mistakenly think of romance when often it's gender politics. But that's a post for another time).  Green stays away from that stereotype, by and large, and gives us a narrator who is intuitive, but precise, not to mention courageous, thoughtful, intelligent, and a working woman. Such a great tale and a great character.


Then the science fiction: I've just finished reading another Jules Verne adventure, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.  Yes, I'm probably the last bibliophile on the planet to read it, but I'll make up for my lateness with boundless enthusiasm.  I just love Verne.  Excitement, imagination, meaning. What more can a person want from a novel?  Throw in a giant octopus and, really, it's just about the best adventure tale I can think of.  And Verne's skill when it comes to balancing detail and page-churning suspense! I don't know how he did it.  One reads along, struggling to envision some of the descriptions of sea flora and fauna, and then -- all-of-a-sudden -- sharks!  But it never feels contrived or ridiculous.  


And in the land of children's fiction, I've recently disembarked from a voyage through Pinocchio by Carlo Collodi. As a child I loved this tale (though not the Disney movie interpretation) and, as an adult, I still think it's awfully good. The episodic, moral tale told with an extravagant amount of scintillating imaginative power.  It's like a child's version of The Odyssey meets Aesop's Fables. Just the thing for bedtime, good fuel for thoughts and dreams.

• Currently Listening To:

• Currently Reading: Paris 1919.  Still.  But enjoying it quite a bit now.  I'm almost halfway through, reading about the contention over how much to make Germany pay.

• Recently Read and Enjoyed:  The Heretic's Daughter by Kathleen Kent.  While it took me awhile to get into the story, once in it turned out to be an interesting account of the Salem witch trials (which included Andover, the home of our narrator, Sarah Carrier).  The topic fascinates me in general, so that wasn't a deterrent, but I often stumble over historical novels written in first person.  Some are easier to swallow than others (it's a matter of tone more than anything, I think) and it was the first person perspective that I found to be the weakest element in this novel.  While it should have brought the horror home even more forcefully, it kept me at an emotional distance for almost half the novel.  But I did enjoy it in the end and found myself reading voraciously as I neared the final pages.  

And then for some lighter fare . . . For such clever novels, they are so easy to read. Quick and enjoyable, that's Agatha Christie for you.  I've just been reading The Moving Finger:

"Miss Marple, left standing by me, twinkled a little and said, 'Mrs. Dane Calthorp is a very remarkable woman, you know. She's nearly always right.'
'It makes her rather alarming,' I said.
'Sincerity has that effect,' said Miss Marple."

So seemingly effortless, those little flashes of insight.  Christie is so much fun.

• Recently Watched and (Somewhat) Enjoyed:  The dark comedy Withnail and I (1986).  I find dark comedies rather discouraging on the whole, something not quite funny about the pathetic, but Withnail and I has some stellar acting and really good writing.  Richard E. Grant is consistently brilliant in it. So it was enjoyable, in the end.  Mr. Inkslinger is a fan of the film and wanted to watch it with me.  He manages to find the funny in dark comedy easier than I do.  

It seems fitting that with Remembrance Day coming up on Friday this should be the week I found time to read The Return of Captain John Emmett by Elizabeth Speller.  Set in the aftermath of the first World War, the novel follows Laurence Bartram as he attempts to track down what exactly contributed to the seeming suicide of his school chum, and fellow war survivor, John Emmett.  It's a mystery that is personality driven more than anything else, but if you sympathize with Bartram or Emmett at all, you're hooked early on.  

A bit of an excerpt:


Until John Emmett rose from the dead into his life, Laurence had almost convinced himself the war was history but now he saw that its aftershocks rumbled on and on, and that peace had nothing to do with signatures and seals on paper.


What I liked about this novel was its clear-eyed look at the psychological toll of WWI, what the men had to face within themselves to go on with 'normal' life after their perception of what 'normal' was had been irreparably shattered.  And Speller manages to highlight this problem within the framework of a fascinating mystery.    


There were a few plot hiccups that caught me up, but overall I thought this was a solid mystery, written splendidly.  Makes me want to read more Speller.

This and That

In between sips of water (which I wish were sips of lovely peppermint tea), while listening to BBC3 and enjoying some November sunshine, I bring you the following bits of this and that currently occupying my lazy thoughts.

• Because I'm slowly making my way through Paris 1919, this caught my attention . . . a short interview with the Canadian author Margaret MacMillan for Canada Reads 2012.

• Because I'm fascinated by all things Kennedy (especially assassination-related things) . . . Stephen King's new novel, 11/22/63.  Mr. Inkslinger and I have already ordered it!

• Because I can't eat a variety of interesting foods at the moment (I seem to have the opposite of food cravings), I've been looking longingly at various recipes and food blogger photographs.  Like this at Closet Cooking, a roasted pumpkin quiche (and I don't even like quiche that much).  Or this at Always With Butter, a chocolate molasses cake (seriously, chocolate and molasses! Too yummy). 

• Because I haven't been reading enough poetry, and it's Billy Collins, I'm reading Billy Collins' Horoscopes for the Dead. So deceptively simple.

• Because I'm stuck indoors and the sun is shining and the trees are beckoning: