A Work in Progress

The Summer Book by Tove Jansson

 

Tove Jansson's The Summer Book is every bit as charming as I thought it would be, at once elegiac and humorous, and even a little surprising to me in its depth.  The story of a grandmother and her six-year-old granddaughter is told through a series of vignettes as they pass the summer on an island in the Gulf of Finland following the natural rhythms of the season.  What's not entirely obvious is that Sophia's mother has just died, as the event is barely remarked upon.  Although her father moves through the pages as well, it's Sophia and her elderly grandmother who capture the reader's attention.

Tove Jansson wrote The Summer Book in 1972 a year after the death of her own mother, the artist Signe Hammersten.  They had had a particularly close relationship and Jansson felt the death intensely.  Much of Jansson's life is reflected in the book.  Not only is her mother featured in the story, but the island where Jansson lived and had built a home with her brother Lars, Sophia's father, where they spent many summers.  Although I read the NYRB edition of the book, I discovered I had the UK version on my shelf as well, so I am sharing a few of the photos that the US version lacks.  Esther Freud, who wrote the introduction in the UK version was lucky enough to visit the island and meet the real Sophia, who was an inspiration for the story.  She found the island to be immediately recognizable from the descriptions in the book and discovered how small the island actually is. 

"Sophia puts the kettle on.  She feeds the cat, and carefully waters her garden of flowers.  I leave my bag outside the house and set off to explore.  I stick to the very edges, skirting the rocks on its most northerly side, stepping over boulders, climbing through the undergrowth of scrub, past a miniature meadow of flowers, another of dry grass, up into the pinewood and I'm back at the house.  I feel a little uneasy.  Claustrophobic even.  My walk has taken me four-and-a-half minutes!"

Apparently when her own island became too crowded with family Jansson moved to an even smaller    island with her long-time companion spending part of every year there from 1964 to 1991 when she finally moved permanently to Helsinki at age seventy-seven.  The house is still there and has become a sort of museum.  Just as in the book they left instructions to travelers who might drop by and rarely does a day go by without a visitor. 

It's hard to describe the story since it tends to meander giving brief glimpses of Sophia and her grandmother's world.  They are such a quirky pair, though their affection for each other is obvious.  Sophia's grandmother is slightly curmudgeonly, a little shaky on her feet, apt to lie down and gaze at the sky, but always willing to listen to her granddaughter and join her in her island explorations.  Sophia is temperamental and passionate and always showing concern for her grandmother's health.  The two talk about everything, discussing, agreeing and even at times arguing. 

The natural world is lovingly and deftly described--the flora and fauna as well as the unpredictable nature of the weather.  Nothing is too small or too unimportant to take notice of from a soft, downy feather that has landed on a blade of grass to the uncertain way a day may dawn clear with blue skies and end with a titanic storm that topples boats and rips apart nets.  I liked the often irreverent conversations between Sophia and her grandmother--whether there is or isn't a hell and how or whether God listens to prayers and whether it's okay to break the locks on the shutters of a new neighbor's house whose presence isn't exactly welcome, so they can look inside.

The Summer Book was such an enjoyable book, different than I expected, but different in good ways.  It is a classic in Scandinavia, where it has never been out of print.  Tove Jansson is famous for her Moomin children's books, which I have never come across as well as a number of books for adults.  I'd very much like to read her Winter Book now, though I think I might save it for the hottest days of summer!  The Summer Book is being discussed by the Slaves.  You can read more about it here and if you've also read it, please feel free to join the discussion here.  The top photos show (left) Tove Jansson's home which she built with her brother, and (right) her mother, Signe Hammarsten, and her niece, Sophia.   

Strange Meeting by Susan Hill

According to the biographical information in my copy of Susan Hill's Strange Meeting, Hill was only in her twenties when she wrote this story of a deep and intense friendship formed during a war that occurred so many years before she was even born.  She had had very romantic notions of this war that her great-uncle had fought in, dying on the Somme on his nineteenth birthday.  When she began researching WWI and reading anything she could find about the war, her romantic illusions were quickly dispelled.  As a matter of fact she had gotten so deep into her research that she began having nightmares. 

I've probably not read widely enough and I'm not sure how accurate is my perception, but it seems WWI was particularly horrific.  This is not to say every war hasn't been horrific, but the excessive loss of life during many of the battles where little or no ground was gained makes me think of how futile it was and nothing more than an all out slaughter of young men who were just at the beginning of their lives.  Really, a generation of young men was lost.  So it was with a mixture of trepidation and curiosity that I began reading Strange Meeting.  In some ways the story is reminiscent of Jennifer Johnston's How Many Miles to Babylon?, which I thought was an exceptional read.  I'm not sure I could say one book is better than the other, as Strange Meeting, while at times a little painful to read, was so sympathetically and beautifully portrayed.  Of course from the first I had in the back of my mind the idea that this was a story that would end tragically, but it made the reading that much more intense.

The story opens with John Hilliard, a battle hardened officer, on leave recovering from a leg wound.  He's a reserved, solitary young man who is uncomfortable at home after witnessing the horrors of war.  Everything feels strange to him and he finds that he can no longer relate to his family, though they've always been somewhat cool and aloof.  The smell of roses makes him particularly queasy and he has trouble sleeping.  His once close relationship with his older sister now feels strained as she has announced her engagement to a staid, older man.  He no longer seems to have anything in common with anyone, and no one can ever quite understand the things he's seen and endured, so he feels very apart from life in England and can't wait to return to his regiment in France.

When he does return, he finds that there are few familiar faces left, as so many of the men have been killed.  He joins his battalion at a rest-stop some twenty miles behind the front line.  The officers are quartered in a farm that had previously been shelled.  The space is cramped and Hilliard must share a room with another officer who has only just recently arrived in France, a prospect he's not entirely looking forward to.  David Barton couldn't be more different than John Hilliard.  He's a gregarious, optimistic young man who hadn't really wanted to join the fighting but hadn't really felt any moral reason to defer either, unlike his brother who's a pacifist.  In a way he sees it as something exciting and looks forward to getting involved in the action.  To the troops who are weary of the fighting he's a breath of fresh air and helps keep the other men going. 

Despite the unlikeliness of the two men becoming friends, these are unnatural circumstances, and the more time they pass together the closer they become.  Hilliard, normally so introspective and quiet, is drawn out of his shell by Barton, whose friendship is offered so warmly and unselfishly.  Raised in a large, close-knit family it's normal for Barton to share his feelings.  Whereas Hilliard's letters from home are largely mechanical in feel and tone, Barton includes Hilliard in his letters and his family responds to both young men in kind.  Their time in the rest-stop is almost idyllic really, but Hilliard knows it won't last and soon they'll be sent to the front lines, where life takes on a surreal quality.  What follows is a loss of innocence.  Hilliard knows Barton is unprepared for what is to come.  It's almost as if he wants to shield him from the horrors but knows he'll be unable to do so. 

I really loved this book.  Although this is a war story and you're always aware of the battles playing out in the background, there is also a surprising amount of time spent simply waiting or moving about from place to place or on reconnaissance missions.  There is a sense of what it might have been like in the trenches--the ugliness and horror, yet it's also easy to see how deep friendships would have developed as well there being a mood of camaraderie amongst the men.  As expected there were difficult moments reading about John Hilliard and David Barton and their troops, but the story ends on an optimistic note that somehow lessens the tragedies that came before.  I'm curious now to read Erich Maria Remarque's All Quiet on the Western Front, a novel I've somehow managed to not ever pick up.  It might be interesting to compare as Remarque fought in the war--so not only written from the German perspective but also by a male author.

Thanks to Caroline who has planned this year long Literature and War Readalong.  Do read her thoughts on Strange Meeting here.  Next up, I'll have a chance to revisit Jennifer Johnston's How Many Miles to Babylon? later in February.        

Thank Heaven Fasting by E.M. Delafield

It's no wonder really that historically women have felt oppressed and stifled by their lot in life.  Aside from being trussed up in corsets and made to behave properly (not surprising that Victorian women were fainting all the time), there was a time when women (at least of a certain class) were raised with the sole purpose of finding a husband and marrying well.  To have a home, a husband and a recognized position was to have an occupation.  And pity the poor soul who has spent her youth in training and early adulthood in search of the perfect mate who does not succeed.  She's left with nothing at all.  Bad enough to be born a daughter, but to end up a spinster...oh my.  E.M. Delafield's Thank Heaven Fasting is a witty, observant yet astute rendering of just such a young woman.  Although it is in many ways every bit as delightful as her Provincial Lady books, there's another current running through this story that might be somewhat bleak had not Delafield approached her story with irony and humor.

I wish I could call Monica Ingram a subversive heroine--someone who would do her modern sisters proud by throwing off society's restraints and living life by her own rules, but she is every bit the dutiful daughter as any mama would expect, even if she knows somewhere in the back of her mind how awful her situation is.  That doesn't make her any less likable, all the more so really for her moments of enlightenment.  She's a product of her times, so I can't be hard on her, and she'll have her happy ending even if to my own very modern sensibilities it felt a little like she was settling.  But surely there is much to be said for feeling as though one's existence has finally been justified?  And maybe it's better to settle than live out one's life in the presence of such an overbearing mama who asks for your opinions and then promptly tells you you're wrong.

According to the afterword by Penelope Fitzgerald the title, Thank Heaven Fasting, comes from Shakespeare's As You Like It when Rosalind quips "Thank Heaven, fasting, for a good man's love".  That is what young women are groomed for in Delafield's story.  From an early age Monica is raised to believe that the ultimate goal in her life is to make that walk down the aisle and into the arms of a respectable gentleman.  She and her mother even fantasize over the colors she'll choose for the bridesmaid's dresses.  Her friends are selected so as to give her the best opportunities to meet suitable young men.  Frederica, or Fricky as she's known by those closest to her, and Cecily Marlowe might not have been Monica's first choice for friends, but the family is wealthy and well situated.  

"Monica realized, as she grew up, how important it was that one should meet all the right people, since it was only amongst the right people that a young girl could find the man she might hope to marry."   

The Marlowe's are slightly older than Monica and between the three something of a rivalry will spring up, particularly between Monica and Frederica.  Monica seems to nearly always have the upper hand over the two sisters, who are the oddest girls and entirely too interdependent on each other.  To receive an offer of marriage in a young woman's first Season would be quite a coup.  Marriage by the end of the second Season is perfectly acceptable and hoped for.  If a third Season passes without even a nibble of interest, rationalizations are made or outright lies are passed as to why someone has been left on the shelf for so long.

There's a certain code a young woman must follow to ensure she's not only primed and ready for her Season but will also be shown in the very best light to her contemporaries.  Sleeping in, breakfast in bed and not too much exertion in order to remain fresh is imperative.  A young woman must always look as though she's having the time of her life rather than fading into the background like a wallflower.  She mustn't let any one young man monopolize all her time, so not too many dances with the same partner.  However one must also not sit out too many dances and therefore look unpopular.  It's not proper to call a young many by his first name and it would be presumptuous to ever agree to write to him.  It must always be kept in mind that single men and women cannot be friends.  And remember only certain young men are acceptable.  He must be a gentleman and be in a position to provide for a wife.  Nice and handsome is fine, but if he doesn't have the right income he can't take a wife in any case.  Rules are revised if no offers at all are made, as the situation may become desperate. 

Heady with the excitement of her first Season, Monica proves to be something of a success.  She's pretty with a freshness about her, and she catches the eye of not just one young man but several.  Unfortunately one misstep will put a dark mark on her record.  What gentleman will take an interest in a young woman who has disgraced herself?  And herein lie a few of the truths about what women have endured.  Penelope Fitzgerald, in writing about Delafield, captures the essence of life for some women that I felt in the pages of the book;

"The total impression (Fitzgerald is referring to the impression Delafield made on a journalist in Russia during her travels there)--and this, I believe accounts for the comic and pathetic tension of her books--is of a woman who would like to free herself and understands how it is to be done but can never quite bring herself to the point of doing it."

It's not just Monica but Cecily as well who understand their situations and are not happy in them, but what can be done?  Is it easier to create new paths or stick to those tried and tested.  So, I write my post slightly tongue in cheek, which is how I imagine Delafield wrote her book.  Although Delafield doesn't give the exact period in which the story is set, she refers to those "hysterical" suffragettes (Cecily doesn't think they're so bad at all actually--an unpopular opinion) and the fact that there are not so many men to choose from anymore, which makes me think that it must be post-WWI.  So many things were changing for women, but not fast enough.  Perhaps it's sometimes just easier to do what's expected and find what happiness in that that can be found.

This is a wonderful story and Delafield is such a good and witty writer--she packs so much into so few pages.  It's a pity that Thank Heaven Fasting is no longer in print, though there are inexpensive used copies out there if your'e willing to order online.  I have The Way Things Are on hand, which I'm now really looking forward to reading, and my library has Gay Life, which according to the Wikipedia is "set on the Cote d'Azur, Hilary and Angie Moon have to live on their wits and her beauty".  She seems to have been a prolific writer and one whose works I think I will enjoy exploring.

A Teaser from A View of the Harbour

I have to say I am very much enjoying reading from my Virago Modern Classics selections.  I only wish this had been a vacation week for me and I could be spending long uninterrupted hours reading my books rather than picking them up and squeezing in my reading at odd moments.  Still, I'm making good progress and loving what I've been reading, so that's what counts.  I wanted to write a little bit about Elizabeth Taylor today, but to be honest I've been spending so much time reading E.M. Delafield's Thank Heaven Fasting that I didn't get as far into Taylor's A View of the Harbour as I would have liked.  More about the Delafield tomorrow (I should easily finish the book tonight--it's hard to put down!), and let me share a little of what I've been reading about Elizabeth Taylor. 

I read my first Elizabeth Taylor novel, The Sleeping Beauty, back in 2007 and knew I was well and truly hooked.  Since then I've managed several more novels as well as a few short stories (she is equally as good at writing short stories as full length novels by the way).  Taylor's friend and fellow author, Elizabeth Jane Howard (who wrote the wonderful Cazalet Chronicle, I should mention), called Taylor one of the most "unfairly underread and underappreciated" authors of the twentieth century.  There was an excellent article in the Atlantic, which I urge you to read if you've not yet come across it.  The article notes her work is often condescended to as "high-class 'women's novels'."

"But, of course, the English novel was born and perfected as a means to explore women’s interiority and bourgeois domesticity, and these remain subjects at the heart of the modern experience, to which the novel as a form is ideally suited. [Kingsley] Amis responded to a critic who submitted 'importance' as a criterion of Taylor’s worth: 'Importance isn’t important. Good writing is'. Her prose was at once effervescent and smooth, and its clarity and precision sprang from the astringency of her vision."

Rachel at Book Snob just wrote about this subject--women's writings and the domestic sphere--do click on through and read what she has to say as it is this very marginalization of women's fiction that brought about Virago Press in the first place. 

My edition of A View of the Harbour has an afterword by Robert Liddell, but the more recent edition is introduced by Sarah Waters.  As my library has this newer edition I had to take a quick peek at it.  Waters is another proponent of Taylor's work, so I look forward to reading her intro in full when I finish the book.  She does say, and I've heard this before, that Taylor is often compared to Jane Austen (an author Taylor also admired).  "...her fascination is with the collision of personalities and the deceptions and self-deceptions practiced between them."  A View of the Harbour is set in a small seaside town where the residents more or less know each other.  This is a novel of infidelity--and perhaps of the worst kind--between a woman and the spouse of her best friend.  I thought I'd share a couple short teasers that describe Tory, the unfaithful friend.

"Tory Foyle unwound the black chenille scarf from her hair.  She was what was once held to be the typical English beauty, her pink face, bright hair and really violet eyes."

"She let herself out of the large, untidy house and into her own beautiful, hyacinth-scented one.  She sat down in the bay-window of her bedroom and combed her hair before the mirror.  She took it all down and built it up again, but there was no one there to see what she had done."

I expect this story is going to be devastating, and as someone mentioned in the comment section of a previous post, not at all light or sunny despite its sandy beach setting!

By the way, do pop on over to Book Snob and A Few of My Favourite Books as both Rachel and Carolyn are not only writing about their own Virago reading experiences, but are kindly doing daily wrap up posts and gathering together links from everyone who is participating in the readalong.  It's really heartening to see so many people reading and writing about these lovely Viragos!

Alone in Her Garden: Elizabeth von Arnim

I don't generally read introductions before reading the actual book (see yesterday's post), but I started reading Deborah Kellaway's introduction to Elizabeth von Arnim's The Solitary Summer and couldn't stop.  Besides this is a novel that is not really like other novels, so I'm not afraid of plot spoilers ruining my fun.  It's a companion piece to Elizabeth and Her German Garden, of which I have fond recollections, but as it also isn't a straightforward story (the form of the books is closer to a series of essays), all I'm left with are pleasant impressions.  These books are the sort where not a lot happens, though a lot does happen, if you know what I mean.  They are filled with very vivid descriptions of her garden and reminiscences of how she's cultivated it (she's far too humble I think), conversations with her husband, who she refers to as "the man of wrath", and other simple meanderings.  It's all quite delightful.

From the very first I have been drawn to von Arnim's books, and now I think I know why.  In a letter to one of her daughters she is quoted as saying "What I really am by nature is an escapist."  Someone I can relate to. 

"It was true.  And all the heroines of her novels are escapists too.  They escape from richness into the simple life, or from conventional home they escape into foreign travel; life from houses into caravans.  Above all they escape, or need to escape, from husbands.  Elizabeth saw marriage as tyranny, husbands as tyrants, women as overdue for liberation."

Von Arnim was born Mary Annette Beauchamp in Australia in 1866 but grew up in England.  Katherine Mansfield was her cousin and Hugh Walpole and E.M. Forster were her children's tutors (imagine!).  She married into the German aristocracy  and it sounds as though she had a rocky marriage.  The Count was very demanding and it took five children before she provided the all-important male heir.  I think I can see why she needed solitude in her garden, though the man of wrath seemed happy enough to let her go all summer with no visitors.  The Solitary Summer was her second published work.  It came out in 1899 to much acclaim, though perhaps some of the allure of the books might be due to the fact they were published under the name of "Elizabeth".  Still, her books (in particular the early couple) went through multiple print runs.  She would go on to publish another nineteen or so books, a number of which have been reissued by Virago Press.

This is a book that could easily be devoured, but I'd rather take my time and savor it.  I was reading it at work in our break room, but it was so noisy I shut the book and set it aside preferring to take it somewhere quiet where I could escape into its pages.  I wish I could spend my summer this way.

"May 2nd--Last night after dinner, when we were in the garden, I said, 'I want to be alone for a whole summer, and get to the very dregs of life.  I want to be as idle as I can, so that my soul may have time to grow.  Nobody shall be invited to stay with me, and if any one calls they will be told I am out, or away, or sick.  I shall spend the months in the garden, and on the plain, and in the forests.  I shall watch the things that happen in my garden, and see where I have made mistakes.  On wet days I will go into the thickest parts of the forests, where the pine needles are everlastingly dry, and when the sun shines I'll lie on the heath and see how the broom flares against the clouds.  I shall be perpetually happy, because there will be no one to worry me.  Out there on the plain there is silence, and where there is silence I have discovered there is peace'."

There's much to be said about silence, don't you think?  I already think there is too much noise in the world and so much more than in von Arnim's day.  But I especially like the idea of the sort of silence you would find in a garden--not a complete silence, but the sort of hum you would find in nature.  I'll be taking my book to peaceful, quiet corners and imagining the solitude von Arnim writes about.  And I think I need to go looking for a few of her other books as well.  I suspect I'll be writing more about her this year! 

Molly Keane and Taking Chances

Of all the authors in the world I could choose to read through their oeuvre it might be a little strange that I've chosen Molly Keane.  Then again, maybe not.  The world I live in couldn't be more different than the world Molly Keane knew and grew up in.  I'm not even sure I would necessarily have liked her world, though I do find it fascinating from the outside looking in. 

Molly Keane (née Mary Skrine) was born in Ireland (Co. Kildare) in 1904 to a "rather serious Hunting and Fishing and Church-going family".  She was educated mostly at home by governesses and published her first book, The Knight of Cheerful Countenance, in 1926 which she wrote when she was only seventeen.  One story goes that she did so in order to supplement her pin money.  Like many of her class she traveled the hunt circuit, which was very expensive.  Molly Keane wrote most of her earlier books under the pseudonym, M.J. Farrell, which was the name of a pub.  It would have been "social death" to admit being a writer, though I think most of her set weren't really readers.  It was her husband who encouraged her to take her writing seriously.  She wrote fourteen novels and a number of plays, which were successfully staged, though their popularity waned during the war years.

Part of my fascination with Keane is the fact she was Anglo-Irish--or part of the privileged class.  I've always found this particular period in Irish history interesting and complex due to the political climate and the nature of the class system which had such repercussions on Irish society, though could ultimately not last.  It's the hunting and fishing part of the equation I might be able to live without, yet these are subjects that feature prominently in her books--at least the few I've read so far.  There are lots of dogs, horses, hunting scenes and other outdoorsy activities.  But she manages to hold my attention with all the other stuff that comes in between hunting parties--romantic entanglements, family relationships and in her later work the question of independent rule in Ireland.  I suspect her later works might perhaps be more serious, and if I continue my reading of her work I'll soon find out.

Taking Chances, Keane's third novel, was published in 1929.  Although I don't like to read book introductions before reading the story I did take a peek, and Clare Boylan calls this work "an ironic study of misplaced passion".  Three siblings live together in their elegant home, Sorristown.  Roguey is lord of the manor, and rather full of himself.  Maeve is preparing to marry Rowley who lives on a neighboring estate.  And Jer, the youngest member of the family as well as the most delicate, adores his older sister.  When Maeve's bridesmaid, Mary Fuller, arrives from England she unsettles them all by catching Rowley's eye.  Since this is not a proper review, I thought I could at least share a teaser, and since Mary is going to stir things up, let me describe her to you.

"It was not alone that she had a face and voice to throw spells, but there was all about this girl, breathing from her, an atmosphere of charm, secret and afar.  She was exciting.  Thing, one felt, would happen round her.  Like the lady who rode to Banbury Cross, 'rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,' Mary was a factor for disturbance.  She was, Rowley felt sure, a person to be distinctly loved or disliked, never a person to be just tolerated."

I think there is definitely going to be more than horses and dogs to this one!

My Virago Week Reading Lineup

So, the Virago Reading Week is finally here.  Rachel at Book Snob and Carolyn at A Few of My Favourite Books have kindly organized the readalong.  You can see a list of Virago authors here and a list of the books in series order here (all 550+ of them!).  From my initial very large pile of choices, I've whittled things down to four (with a few minor changes along the way).  I realize four is probably an ambitious number of books to choose to read this week, but I've neglected my Virago collection for too long and want to immerse myself in them for a few days.  I don't expect to finish all four this week, and that's okay as I want to continue reading them throughout the year.  I plan on posting this week on my reading, which will be almost exclusively about these four books, though my posts will likely only be more along the lines of progress reports.  Perhaps by the end of the week I'll have a couple reviews to share, however.  Here's my reading lineup for the week:

I couldn't wait to start E.M. Delafield's Thank Heavens Fasting, so I have already shared a little teaser with you.  This is one I should definitely be writing about later this week.

Elizabeth Von Arnim's The Enchanted April is one of my favorite reads.  It's also a lovely comfort read that is particularly nice to revisit when winter seems to drag on and on.  I also enjoyed Elizabeth and Her German Garden, so it seems fitting that I should also read The Solitary Summer next. 

Elizabeth Taylor is another author I rank amongst my favorites.  She deserves to be better known and more widely read.  My most recent foray into her work was last year when I read Angel, which was a fascinating character study--I found Angel infuriating and provoking, but in the able hands of Elizabeth Taylor--complex and very human as well.  Since I seem to be trying to get out of my winter funk A View of the Harbour with its coastal setting caught my eye.

And then we have Molly Keane.  My introduction to her came a few years ago when I read Two Days in Aragon, which I thought was really brilliant.  I didn't write about it as the book was one I read for my postal reading group (and didn't want to give the surprise away to other postal group members).  I decided there and then I needed to read all her work and in order that it was published.  So here I am at novel number three, Taking Chances, which sat on my night stand all last year unread.  Why not crack it open finally and read it this week?  I'm hoping this will jump start my little reading project and I can make some progress on it this year.

I've been looking forward to this and will enjoy hearing about what everyone else is reading this week.  Has anyone else been tempted by this readalong and which book(s) have you chosen to read?

The Bookshop by Penelope Fitzgerald

What small town wouldn't appreciate the appearance of a new bookshop?  Especially a town lacking any other literary diversion.  Apparently the folks of Hardborough wouldn't.  When Florence Green decides to buy an antiquated building left empty for years in a small provincial seaside town, it causes quite a stir among the residents.  The Old House is a small property on the seafront that comes complete with its own warehouse and a poltergeist, or 'rapper' as it is known in Hardborough.  Of course the warehouse proves to be damp year round and not suitable for stocking extra books, but Florence has found the Old House to be not only a decent place to live but a good place to open a bookshop as well even with a 'rapper'.  Unfortunately Hardborough has other ideas.

"In 1959, when there was no fish and chips in Hardborough, no laundrette, no cinema except on alternate Saturday nights, the need of all these things was felt, but no one had considered, certainly had not thought of Mrs Green as considering, the opening of a bookshop."

Somehow Florence seems ill-suited for the endeavor.  Widowed and living in the town for more than eight years she had a "kind heart, though that is not much use when it comes to the matter of self-preservation."  She lives on a small amount of money left to her from her husband.  Physically she is small in appearance and wispy and not at all substantial.  She is not lacking in courage however, which is what she needs when she not only puts forth her idea, but presses on and does what she says.  The bank manager questions her ability to run a bookshop, though in her more youthful days she worked in a London shop.  Her biggest obstacle, however, comes in the form of Mrs Violet Gamart the town's cultural arbiter.  Violet has had the idea that the Old House would serve as the perfect place to open an Arts Centre.  The town's residents had been so used to the building standing empty for so long they had become complacent about it, and along comes Florence putting them quite to shame by rushing into opening a shop.

Initially it doesn't do too badly.  There's the tourist trade in the summer, and the local Primary is in need of reward books for successful pupils.  Books by former SAS men seem to fly off the shelves  and there are requests for a lending library to be made available.  The lending library becomes somewhat problematic when Florence leaves the books with their pink slips in them for the customers to see.  Everyone wants the new biography of Queen Mary, being an "A" book, but for every "A" book there are even more "B" and "C" books that no one has an interest in.   Unfortunately most people end up with "B" and "C" books, which causes an uproar amongst the customers.  Still, Florence does well enough to hire a shop assistant in the form of a 10-year old schoolgirl.  Christine Gipping doesn't actually like reading books, only issues of Bunty, which is just as well really.  Christine is very plain speaking for such a young girl and a little eccentric in her working methods, but she does very well all things considered.

Despite their best efforts not all goes smoothly.  There's an interest by local artists to show their work in the shop even though there's barely enough room for the books.  One man even goes so far as to bring his watercolor canvases along to hang up without Florence's approval.  And when Florence decides to sell copies of Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita, a book she hasn't read herself but has on good authority that it's the masterpiece it's purported to be, I was sure there would be moral indignation over selling such an explicit book that would cause Florence much grief.  It does end up causing her grief but not for the reasons you'd think.  Because she orders so many copies, which fill her shop window, the crowds of people stopping to look cause an obstruction of traffic on the main street.  A lawsuit is filed.  That alone is telling just what sort of town Hardborough is.  Hard indeed.

I'm afraid Hardborough's residents can be narrow-minded and nasty, constantly undermining Florence's hard work and efforts, and that alone will give you an idea to what happens to Florence's bookshop.  Even with so much turmoil, Penelope Fitzgerald's The Bookshop is a quiet, unassuming sort of story.   It's not an especially happy one, but there are moments of black humor and sharp irony where you just have to laugh.  I wasn't quite sure what I thought when I finished as there is a sense that the story is somehow left unfinished, but I was happy to have finally read Penelope Fitzgerald.  I do like her understated and restrained writing style and ability to tell an absorbing story with well drawn characters.  Another reader summed it up well when they said it was a perfect slice of life.  That is perhaps the best way to describe this short novel.  I am definitely looking forward to reading more of her work and will be browsing my bookshelves soon. 

Thanks to Cornflower for giving me the nudge to finally read her, as this was the book chosen for Cornflower's Book Group.  You can read more about the book and join in the discussion here.

January 21: Weekend Reading Notes

Once again the month is speeding to a close.  I alternately want to speed things up--during the work week, and slow things down--weekends and when yet another month passes.  There must be a happy medium but I have yet to figure it out.  I had a stack of books that I wanted to work on this month.  I've finished two of them, am nearing the end of another and now have my lovely Viragos to concentrate on next week.  Actually I have my Viragos and Tove Jansson's book for the Slaves to read.   Since it is snowy and cold out I think I will particularly relish the Jansson book.  It begins:

"It was an early, very warm morning in July, and it had rained during the night.  The bare granite steamed, the moss and crevices were drenched with moisture, and all the colors everywhere had deepened.  Below the veranda, the vegetation in the morning shade was like a rain forest of lush, evil leaves and flowers, which she had to be careful not to break as she searched.  She held one hand in front of her mouth and was constantly afraid of losing her balance."

I like the sound of lushness and colorful vegetation and July sunshine.  Well, if I can't see it outside my window at the moment I can at least read about it in a book. 

As for the Viragos, I've made a few changes in my reading line up (as predicted).  I'll warn you now, I plan on going overboard.  I can't quite narrow my choices down to one or two, so I have a few at the ready.  I'm already reading and thoroughly enjoying E.M. Delafield's Thank Heaven Fasting by the way.  But more about my Viragos next week. 

In case you're curious I've decided to read Rebecca Connell's The Art of Losing Next.  They all sound good and I'll get to them all sooner or later, but the Connell looks like a nice quick read and so far I've had very good luck with Europa Editions authors.   Also one of the blurbs calls it "both a thriller and an emotional portrait of the long-term repercussions of infidelity", which caught my eye.  I love thrillers and something along those lines very much appeals to me right now.

One other side note.  Recently Dorothy W. wrote about her experience reading a book on her iPhone and eReaders in general.  I've been pretty staunch about sticking with paper books, but I do admit to being curious about eReaders as supplementary to my lovely book piles.  I think I'd only use an eReader for freebie books--library eBooks or Project Gutenberg titles.  I also finally checked out Netgalley, which Dorothy mentioned.  I'd come across it before but as I don't own a device to read them on, I hadn't spent much time looking around.  I admit I have downloaded a couple of titles, which I can read on my computer, though I'm not sure how it will work out. 

Reading on a desktop computer for long periods of time, even with Adobe Digital Editions (which is pretty slick really--much nicer than reading directly from Project Gutenberg), doesn't sound all that fun.  There's nothing like being able to snuggle up under the covers in bed with a book, which is not something you can do with a computer!  So this has me thinking of whether I'd really use an eReader if I had one--enough to make it worth the cost anyway.  If I bought one, it would be the Nook Color (so I guess I have thought about it a little).  I like the idea of being connected to the internet and being able to read magazines and having a color screen.  I know I wouldn't take something like this to the gym and maybe not on the bus.  I'm afraid it is the novelty of the thing that draws me to it.  So I'm curious--does anyone have a Nook or Nook Color?  And what are your experiences with it, if so.     

A Few More Acquisitions

I can at least blame a few of these new purchases on other bloggers this time around.  Not that it's bad to take recommendations from other readers, as I do it all the time.  But see how easily influenced I am by you guys?

I loved Jennifer Johnston's How Many Miles to Babylon? when I read it late last year.  I had to get a copy through interlibrary loan as no local library had it on hand, but I knew that it was a book I wanted to own.  Caroline gave me the perfect excuse for ordering a copy to keep handy on my shelves as it is one of the titles in her Literature and War readalong.  As a matter of fact it is next on her list of books, so I have it at the ready.  I've told myself that this year I am going to read more Italian authors, and conveniently Elsa Morante is also on the list.  I've wanted to read History: A Novel for a number of years, so now I have the perfect excuse.  "Rather than consider the powerful, wealthy and ambitious figures who drive great historical events, Morante tells the unforgettable universal drama of ordinary people struggling for life and bread during a time of war." 

I have Stefanie to thank for the next two books in the pile.   Lydia Davis recently translated Flaubert's Madame Bovary, which I thought was absolutely stunning.  When I discovered she also writes novels and short stories I knew I had to see what her own work is like.  When Stefanie listed The End of the Story as one of her planned reads this year it seemed like a good place to start.  She also posted a number of times on Sappho's If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho last year.  I'm not generally a poetry reader, but every time Stefanie shared a poem I thought I really need to get my hands on that book.  And now I have.  I'm really looking forward to this.  Who's going to be next to buy it?

And I guess I have Anna Karenina and Emma Bovary to thank for the last two books on the pile.  I want to read more about both books and what better person to turn to than Vladimir Nabokov and his famous lectures on literature.  Lectures on Russian Literature includes discussions of Chekhov, Dostoevski, Tolstoy, Turgenev, Gorki and Gogol.  Lectures on Literature includes discussions on Austen, Dickens, Flaubert, Joyce, Proust, R.L. Stevenson and Kafka.  I've not yet had a chance to do more than crack open the books and flip through but I am very curious about what he'll have to say about these famous novels.  I do hope he's not too erudite, but in any case I think these books will be very good for me. 

So, until the next new book stack!  I'm off to find homes on my shelves for these.