A Work in Progress

Short Story Sunday: Two by Elizabeth Bowen

I was thinking I was getting this post in just under the gun, this being the last day of March, but Mel's Irish Short Story Month has been extended into April.  I'd be inclined to push my reading forward a bit and get back to the Persephone collection, but as I am also reading Elizabeth Bowen's The Heat of the Day at the moment, a couple of short stories by Bowen it is! 

The Heat of the Day is the current book up for discussion for Caroline's Literature and War Readalong (unsurprisingly I am not finished), so I was curious to see how the novel was received by other readers.  She is a challenging writer to read and that shows by the varied responses.  I have heard both praise for the book as well criticism that her prose can be overly complicated.  It seems she's considered a "modernist" writer, so I'm expecting a fair bit of sophistication in her work, but I certainly do agree she is a challenging writer to read.  The upside to being a tardy reader (finisher anyway) is being able to adjust my expectations and have the benefit of those who have gone before me, though I am going to keep an open mind for the latter part of The Heat of the Day.

Neither "Sunday Afternoon" nor "A Day in the Dark" are lengthy short stories, and both are set in Ireland.  Bowen was Anglo-Irish, born in Dublin she spent part of her childhood in County Cork at Bowen's Court and later lived in London.  She was a prodigious short story writer, and this collected stories volume of mine (put out by Vintage Books) with its cool cover is massive, though sadly beginning to fall apart.  Both stories are later works, the first set during the war years and the latter just after.

In "Sunday Afternoon" Henry has returned home to Ireland for a visit and he spends a May afternoon with friends.  He works now in one of the war ministries.  His London flat has been bombed and everything lost and there is about him a sense of melancholy of being cast out and separated from Ireland and his friends.  He seems happy now simply to just exist on any level.  He's confronted by the hostess's niece, Maria, a young woman who is ready to set off for London, and what she perhaps believes will be an adventure.  She sees Henry as staid and even weak for wanting to remain in the happier days of the past.  But then he tells her she is being a savage and scornful. 

Maria tells Henry how she admired him at tea, but now sees how weak he is.

"The past--things done over and over again with more trouble than they were ever worth?"

The war has created a disjunction between how life was lived before and the reality of now as well as between the two generations and their expectations.

Bowen's prose is fraught with meaning and it took more than one reading to tease out what meaning I took from it, and I am still not entirely sure I am on the right track.  Too, it's laden with many details, so despite the length it's filled to the brim with description and dialogue and calls for proper attention be paid to it. 

"A Day in the Dark" is a post-war story set in the little village of Moher.  Looking back on an afternoon in her youth, Barbie recollects an unsettling meeting with her uncle's neighbor, Miss Bandberry.  At fifteen and in between school sessions Barbie was staying with her uncle on whom she had a harmless though real crush.  Her uncle asks her to return a magazine, marred with oily fingerprints, though the real reason is ultimately to ask for the use of a piece of farm equipment.  Formidable and taciturn, it's obvious Miss Bandberry is nursing old wounds where Barbie's uncle is concerned.

"When I speak of dread I mean dread, not guilt.  That afternoon, I went to Miss Bandberry's for my uncle's sake, in his place.  It could be said, my gathering of foreboding had to do with my relation with him--yet that there was no guilt anywhere, I could swear!  I swear we did each other no harm.  I think he was held that summer, as I was, by the sense that this was a summer like no other and which could never again be.  Soon I must grow up, he must grow old.  Meanwhile we played house together on the margin of a passion which was impossible.  My longing was for him, not for an embrace--as for him, he was glad of companionship, as I'd truly told her.  He was a man tired by a lonely house till I joined him--a schoolgirl between schools.  All thought well of his hospitality to me.  Convention was our safeguard: could one have stronger?"

But Moher is a small town where everyone lives practically in each other's pocket and there are no secrets, or it's assumed that all secrets are known.  However innocent Barbie's situation may be, after her visit to Miss Bandberry her world takes on a slightly different and less innocent color.

There is nothing frothy or simple about Elizabeth Bowen, I've decided.  I think, though, she is an author who rewards careful and concentrated reading.  Next week back to The Persephone Book of Short Stories and Norah Hoult.

Lost in the Stacks Home Edition: Michelle

Although half a world separates us, Michelle and I share a birthday and a love of books.  In her per-blogging days she would often drop by (virtually that is) to leave comments here and when she decided to start blogging, too, I was thrilled.  Do please visit her at A Reader's Footprints.  She is a book lover who was born and bred in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia and is now living just 25km away from the city centre with a mum, a sister and a dog.

She works with figures to make a living, but her real passion lies with words.  Other passions: travelling and animals.

1. Describe your library/bookshelves. Are the books randomly placed or do you have them organized in a special way?

I am not a very organized person by nature, and I think my books and shelves do reflect that. Even my reading is usually on whim, unless I happen to be  participating in any of the specific reading  events on the blogosphere. I do not belong to any reading groups and don't think I ever will because of my need to be able to read on whim and not under compulsion. Besides, I think I am much too slow a reader to be able to follow closely to the datelines/ schedules anyway. But having said that, I think it will be good in helping me become a more disciplined and efficient reader, and curb the bad habit of diving into new books before finishing any of the on-going ones.

My personal library is still fairly young, as I only started to seriously buy books (in more and more alarming numbers and frequency) about 5-6 years ago. My love for books go way back further, though. It's just that when I was young, I grew up feeding on my sister's rather comprehensive collection of Enid Blytons, and I had not much of a need to get books of my own. The source of her impressive loot was the result of my grandfather's lavish display of affection for his then, only grandchild. And so, when I (finally!) arrived onto the scene 8 years later, frugality had probably set in and the excitement of grandkids had probably phased out. Of course there were the occasional books acquired here and there over the years, but it was not until I got myself a proper solid bookshelf  about 5 years ago that I started filling it up ( to the point of overdoing it, I think!). It was also a time when books were starting to be made available at much more affordable prices through the various book sales events and online sellers.  

The first photo (at top of the page) shows the early days when the shelves were still new and not overrun with books yet. The second photo is the current state of things. Notice how the poor animals are now peeping rather apprehensively from the corner they have been relegated to.  By the way, this happens to be the bookshelf that is beside my bed and so it acts as the 'nightstand'  as well. Not all the books on it are my on-going/ current reads, in case you might be wondering. I just like to have them close by and just looking at them gives me much pleasure in itself.

Photo no.3 shows the upper half of the shelf as well as the wall shelf that was added later on to help out with the load. But I need to be careful how much I load on it as I don't wish to have it all come crashing down on my head while I sleep!

Photo no.4 shows yet another wall shelf in my room (it's a small room, so I do try to maximize what available space there is!). My books are not really placed in any particular way or system. There are some that are placed together by the same author or subject matter, others may be thrown together by the same publisher or, even by their size perhaps. Generally, I do like to have a mixture of these assortments all thrown together on the shelves (or floor), as they tend to provide a better visual effect on the whole, I think. I also don't think I can quite bear to see whole rows of books that are of uniform colours or sizes all placed neatly together. Too uninteresting, I feel. One rather strange tendency I do have though, is in trying to keep the books that have been acquired together, to stay together as far as possible. A bit weird, I know.

2. Do you like to weed and recycle as you read or do you prefer to hold on to all your books?

I used to be a hoarder, and it's not just with books. I generally find it hard to discard things. But as I grow older, somehow it seems to have gotten easier to do so. I realise that there really is a time and a season for everything. And when the time has come, it just feels right to let it go. Of course space constraint plays a huge part too. Nowadays, I find it easier to part with books I know I no longer have the interest/ time to read anytime in the foreseeable future. Although I have not been doing any aggressive weeding yet, I have in small parts, been trying to free up shelf space by 'sending off' a book or two here and there to friends whom I think might appreciate them. Planning to also look into charitable organisations where I can send them to in the future. As for now, I think there's still a bit of room around the house.

3. Are your books confined to one area or are they spread out over your house?

Although having said that there are still available space in some parts of the house, I still prefer to keep my books as close by to me as possible and that is why I try to keep as many of them as possible, in my bedroom. The ones that can't be squeezed into the room are spread out over the house. You can find books in every room except the kitchen and the bathrooms. Photos 5 - 8 are of the shelves in my bedroom as well. And there's also some that are kept in plastic storage containers under my bed.

Photo no. 9 and its close up are of the bookshelf in the living room, which has more of the coffee table-like books, some travel related books, photography & garden books etc.. There are also some Henry James and a Wilkie Collins in there and the occasional book or two that my mum stuffs in. By the way, those figurines sitting on the top most shelf are my mum's. Me, I prefer furry ones, like the panda on the second lower shelf.

Photo no.10 is the bookshelf located at the dining area. If you look closely, there's actually another set of shorter shelves beside this one (where the bottles of cookies are sitting on now). I got them with the intention of using them to hold books actually (not so much cookie jars) but since I am still trying to stuff my room to the max, my mum had other more practical plans for the shelves in the meantime. But a time will come when they will have to be 'reclaimed' back for their original purpose, I suppose.

4. How long has your oldest unread book sat on your shelves?

I think it's a copy of Richard Bach's Jonathon Livingston Seagull which was given to me by a friend whom I've known since my primary schooldays. It was a birthday gift for my 19th year. Let's see.... so that makes it close to 17 years of sitting unread, yellowing (& collecting dust) on the shelf now. The inscription by my friend on the book's flyleaf says ".... this is the second best gift that I could ever give to you. The first one, of course, was given through our wonderful years together! A Toast to our Friendship!".  I think I should be feeling really guilty now.

5. What is your most treasured book?

This is a tough one to answer, as I do treasure many for various reasons. There's the two Folio Society volumes of 'Dickens' London' and 'A Treasury of Mark Twain' that are simply exquisite to hold and behold. There's also the two beautiful Vitalis edition of Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet and Two Prague Stories that were acquired in Prague (and at such an unbelievably good discounted price too!).

But if it's a book that I treasure most in terms of how close I  hold it to heart, I think I will pick Alison Smith's memoir Name all the Animals.  It was one of those books that I knew nothing about prior to pulling it out from the shelves while browsing in the (then) first ever Borders outlet in Malaysia back in 2005.  The title had caught my attention even though the author was new to me.  And I have a feeling that both the book and the writer are still relatively unfamiliar to many, today.  Maybe this one could qualify as a 'lost in the stacks' as well.

Anyway, I read the blurb on the back cover of the book and decided that it was going home with me.  And I am glad it did.  The book is a poignant account of the writer's struggle with repressed grief (at the loss of her brother), with the loss of faith in her religion, with the discovery of forbidden love, and ultimately with learning to love life itself.  The writing is tender and beautiful, even though the subject matters are difficult and painful.  Simply put, Alison's story somehow resonated with me.  The book also closely associated with some rather cherished memories of having had the reading experience shared at that time, with someone dear.

6. If you could pick one "lost in the stacks/on your bookshelves" book to rediscover and share with other readers, which would it be?

I think I would like to pick more than one, if you don't mind (sorry!). I'd like to put a plug in for H.V. Morton's travel writings. My first encounter with Morton was his In Search of England and I have since gone on to acquiring most of his other books as well. I love the tone of his writing and the sense of time and place that they manage to evoke. There's a very romantic 'old world' feel to his travel writings that just adds to the pleasure and appeal of travelling. I feel this is one of those 'lost in the stacks' writers because I have so far only come across one blogger (Alex in Leeds) who has had any mention of Morton at all on their blogs. Or it could be that I don't read enough blogs to make that assumption. Anyway, no harm putting in a plug for him here, I guess.  The other writer I would also like to make mention here is Alice Steinbach. Not sure how 'lost in the stacks' she might be, but just wanted to share that her Without Reservations: Travels of an Independent Woman was one of the first travel memoirs that I read, and probably the one that got me in love with the genre, and with travelling. In fact, I made my acquaintance with Steinbach even much earlier than with Morton. I found her book to be truly inspiring and reading it was a rather liberating experience for me. I have since loved to write postcards while on my travels (as did Steinbach).

Many thanks to Michelle for sharing photos of his bookshelves and piles with us.  Check back next Friday for a peek into another reader's library.

Testing the Current by William McPherson

Some books elicit a contented sigh upon turning the last page.  Not only does William McPherson's Testing the Current do that, but it gets a "wow" (imagine a thin low whistle) from me in response to it as well.  How did he do that?  Create such a perfectly evoked world, so wholly believable?  This is a story in which lots happens and not very much at the same time.  Much like life.  I want to go grab a copy and press it into your hands, so you can read it, too.  The title is apt as a strong current flows in this story, so much happens below the surface.  See how calm and pristine the water appears on the cover?  Don't be fooled by it.  It is a swirling morass of emotions underneath and at its center is eight-year-old Tommy MacAllister who narrates the story.  The reader gets a glimpse into the lives of not only Tommy and his family, but, too, of the residents of the small Michigan town Grand Rivière. 

I think the word is verisimilitude.  It's the Depression-era, sometime in the late 1930s, though you wouldn't really know it by the world in which Tommy lives.  McPherson writes with such a strong sense of authenticity it is almost surprising that the book was written in 1984 and not 1934.  It's not overburdened by the sort of detail you find in historical fiction, yet it is still quite detailed in its way.  It's steeped in the era yet it has a timeless quality to it as well, which is what makes it a classic.  It's beautifully observed and all through the eyes of a little boy, a little boy who does the sorts of surprising and occasionally naughty things little boys do.  A boy who sees all the things going on around him, thinks about them, is affected by them and reacts to them, yet still doesn't necessarily understand them, but the reader does.  I think that's part of the beauty of this story--seeing this world from such an interesting, perhaps even naive, though always questioning, vantage point. 

The MacAllisters are an upper middle class family who live in a nice home, belong to the country club and can afford to throw lavish parties and redecorate their house.  Tommy is the youngest of three boys, but his elder siblings are both older and in college.  He gets along reasonably well with John, but tends to antagonize and be antagonized by middle brother David.  In the summer they spend their vacations on the islands dotting the dotting the river.  Tommy can even see as far as Canada, and from his window at home he can watch the fires at his father's plant.  Furnaces rage day and night at the factory where drums are manufactured, which contain chemicals.  His father spends much of his time working.  A formidable man, Tommy doesn't always like him, but he loves his mother to distraction, though she on occasion disappoints him.  He has fond memories of his grandmother, whom he misses when she passes away.

Although Tommy's world is a comfortable one, there are occasional glimpses of how the other half lives, even if he doesn't always understand why they act the way they do or what is meant by the jokes and gossip he hears about them from his parents and their friends.  Like when a few of the local Indians get into a fight--"Nothing out of the ordinary.  Nothing they haven't fought about before."  In this case a little matter of adultery that ended in the wronged woman almost scalping her husband.  The different social stratas of Grand Rivière are clearly delineated.  Certain people can belong to the country club and others can only work there.  It's where Tommy must take golf lessons, which he dislikes but endures.  And it's where he watches a drunken friend of his parents verbally abuse one of Tommy's favorite people, Ophelia, who is black.  Tommy feels it deeply, and while it's the sort of behavior that may not be exactly sanctioned is at least overlooked, though Tommy knows it's wrong.

There's a strong sense of nostalgia to this story of better and happier times, though of course it's easy to read between the lines.  The story takes place over the course of a year and the reader watches (and it is quite often so inviting really) the rituals of this middle class world--the holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas, of the feasts that are prepared, the rounds of parties and dinners, of the summers spent opening the houses on the Island to be spent there until school resumes in the autumn.  But however shimmery and sparkly it appears on the surface, Tommy also sees (and wonders about) what goes on underneath.  He watches as one of his favorite neighbors injects needles in her arm, not understanding her addiction to painkillers.  It's something everyone knows about but won't acknowledge.  He hears the petty squabbles between neighbors and the vindictiveness of some of the country club women.  He senses how wrong it is but doesn't quite understand the reasons why.  And he feels sick when one New Year's Eve he silently hides under a table and watches a family friend knead his mother's thigh. 

For a story where not much happens there is a surprising sense of narrative tension.  And I especially like how McPherson tells the story, how the reader gets to peek in at this world, but nothing is tidied up at the end.  You furiously turn pages toward the end in hopes of finding out how it all ends only to discover It's left up to the reader to infer what happens next.  Perhaps some of the questions are answered in the sequel to Testing the Current, To the Sargasso Sea, which takes place some thirty years on.  Apparently this was a sleeper hit when it was first published, a word-of-mouth success that was named to a number of best reads lists.  I'm so glad NYRB has reissued it and that I was able to read it via my monthly subscription.  It's one of my favorite books so far this year and deserves to be rediscovered by readers.  It has such a comfortable place in my mind, I'm not sure I can bear to read the sequel.  What if it isn't as good, or I don't like Tommy as much as I do right now?  Maybe is NYRB reissues it (it seems to be out of print) I'll give it a whirl.  Stefanie recently wrote about it, too, and had an equally good response to it. 

Next up with my NYRB reading is Vasily Grossman's An Armenian Sketchbook.  I've read the introduction so far and am looking forward to the book.  If all the forthcoming NYRBs are half as good as Testing the Current was, I am in for a treat.

Teaser Tuesday: A Summons to Memphis

One book leads to another.

I finished reading William McPherson's Testing the Current over the weekend.  I loved it.  If I can find a little energy this week (I'm afraid I am feeling under the weather and am fighting off a cold) I am going to finish writing about it in the next day or two.  I wondered as I was reading whether I would ever get to the end (not in a bad way, but in a, 'wow' this book has tiny print and I don't ever seem to make much progress kind of way), but now that I am done I feel a little at loose ends and despondent--wishing I still was lost in the story.

Sometimes it's best to pick up a new book that is vastly different and set off on a new reading path, but as several books of similar tone and style were mentioned in the afterword, and one of them is Peter Taylor's Pulitzer Prize winning novel A Summons to Memphis . . .   I have found my next library read. 

I've only just brought it home and will start reading tonight.  Here's a little teaser from the beginning.

"The courtship and remarriage of an old widower is always made more difficult when middle-aged children are involved--especially when there are unmarried daughters.  This seemed particularly true in the landlocked, backwater city of Memphis some forty-odd years ago.  At least it is a certainty that remarriage was more difficult for old widowers in Memphis than it was over in Nashville, say, or in Knoxville--or even in Chattanooga, for that matter.  One needs to know those other cities only slightly to be absolutely sure of this.  Yet one cannot say with equal certainty just why the difficulty was so peculiar to Memphis, unless it is that Memphis, unlike the other Tennessee cities, remains to this day a 'land-oriented' place.  Nearly everybody there who is anybody is apt to own some land.  He owns it in Arkansas or in West Tennessee or in the Mississippi Delta.  And it may be that whenever or wherever land gets involved, any family matter is bound to become more complex, less reasonable, more desperate."

The summons to Memphis comes upon the remarriage of the narrator's father.  This is a story of "revenge, resolution, and redemption."  I'm already looking forward to it.

Somehow this puts me in mind of Eudora Welty, but perhaps only because they are both Southern writers.  I read Welty's The Optimist's Daughter last year and was suitably impressed by her.  I've not read much of her work, aside from an essay and a story or two, but this is a reminder, too, that I want to read more by her.  Maybe Southern writers in general and this sort of story in particular will end up being my next reading path.

Do you do readalikes?  Or do you prefer each book be different from the last one read?

Old Habits are Hard to Break

I was doing to call this post "Bad Habits are Hard to Break" but when is using the library a bad habit, right?  I managed to make it three months without borrowing library books, however, and have been reading steadily from my own book piles, so all in all a good way to begin the new year and set the tone for the rest of 2013's reading.  I'll continue to read from my own stacks as much as I can, but the temptation of new books was just too strong and I finally gave.  I've got a few more than this pile shows, but I thought I would share a few highlights.  These are currently closer to the top of the pile than the bottom and I'll be choosing one to start reading...and add to my current reads pile.  Oh, the joy of thinking about starting a new book!

Christmas at Eagle Pond by Donald Hall -- Yes, Christmas!  Had I come across this book a few months ago it would have been perfect, but I only just discovered it on my last library visit.  What caught my eye was the name.  I only discovered Donald Hall last month, so it was serendipity to find he has written books other than poetry collections.  This is a book of his childhood memories (1940) of Christmas spent at his grandparent's rural home in New Hampshire.  Even though I am ready for spring, the subject matter is still quite inviting and this is a slim little volume that may well coax me into reading more of his work. 

Baksheesh: A Kati Hirschel Istanbul Mystery by Esmahan Aykol -- I read the first Katie Hirschel mystery two years ago, and finally the next instalment has been published in English.  The draw is perhaps less the mystery than the locale and desire to read some Turkish fiction (well, crime in this case).  "...Aykol takes us to the alleys and boulevards of cosmopolitan Istanbul, to luxurious villas and seedy basement flats, to the property agents and lawyers, to Islamist leaders and city officials--in fact everywhere that baksheesh helps move things along."

Lessons in French by Hilary Reyl -- "In compelling and sympathetic prose, Hilary Reyl perfectly captures this portrait of a precocious, ambitious young woman struggling to define herself in a vibrant world that spirals out of control.  Lessons in French is at once a love letter to Paris and the story of a young woman finding herself, her moral compass, and finally, her true family."

A Little Folly by Jude Morgan -- I was just thinking this weekend how appealing a Georgette Heyer novel sounded.  Jude Morgan comes very close to creating the same feel of Regency England as Heyer does.  I read An Accomplished Woman by Morgan a few years back and recall liking it very much.

She Loves Me Not: New and Selected Stories by Ron Hansen -- Hansen is one of those authors I feel like I should have read by now since he is a native Omahan, though now he lives in Northern California.  There are twelve new stories in this collection and seven from his previous collection, Nebraska.  "...the subject of Hansen's scrutiny range from Oscar Wilde to murder to dementia to romance, and display Hansen at his storytelling best."

One for the Books by Joe Queenan -- I've read some of Queenen's essays and is someone I can relate to very well as he is as obsessive about books as I am.  "One for the Books is Queenan's choleric survey of the landscape of reading today, from fervently dedicated booksellers to beleaguered libraries to the everyday dilemmas faced by the avid reader (borrowing and lending, the inability to finish certain books, rereading favorites, dealing with an increasingly elephantine collection)."  This sounds like a fun collection of essays and books about books are always interesting.

The Burning Air by Erin Kelly -- I think Erin Kelly is someone I will like very much.  And someday I really am going to read her.  Maybe right now as a matter of fact.  This is her third book.  I own her first in hardcover, checked out her second from the library at least once (and maybe even twice), but haven't managed to read either.  Another author I mean to read.  The blurb tells me Erin Kelly "has written another spellbinder that is both creepy and compelling.  Brimming with twists and Kelly's signature psychological intrigue, The Burning Air is her most chilling yet--a heart-stopping thriller of dark obsession, in which the smallest decisions carry unimaginable consequences."

Now the hard part.  Deciding just which story I am most in the mood for.  Did I already say, ah the joys of starting a new book?!

Short Story Sunday: The Bread and Butter Stories

I'd never heard of Mary Norton before, but she is someone I came across while book browsing online.  Although I'm not quite as willing to buy a book by an unknown-to-me author as I once used to be, if the book is a Virago it pretty much is a shoe-in.  I can't remember now what it was I was actually looking for--perhaps just out Virago-buying (occasionally I like to just add to my collection so will order a few interesting-sounding titles), but I suspect the attractive cover caught my eye and the fact that this is a short story collection sealed the deal.  Then when the book arrived I only meant to do a little perusing but started reading instead and decided I might as well keep going since she hooked me on the first story.

While you might not recognize the title, The Bread and Butter Stories, I bet you'll have come across her children's book The Borrowers about a diminutive family living in the walls and under the floorboards of a British family in a country house, from whom the tiny people "borrow" items to furnish their living quarters.  I read The Borrowers (and no doubt some of the subsequent sequels) when I was a child, so I was thrilled to discover Norton also wrote stories for adults.

Mary Norton referred to her short stories as "the bread and butter stories" as like so many other women have had to do--she wrote in order to help provide for her family.  She actually began her career in the theater but then married and moved to Quinta das Aguas Livres (Free Waters) in Portugal, the "family seat of her husband".  There they raised four children until the economic downturn of the 1920s and 30s sent them back to England.  During the war years she lived with her children in America where she worked for the war office.  They returned in 1943 just in time for the "little blitz".

Norton's stories literally were for her family's bread and butter.  After her husband was de-mobbed he took care of the house and cooking while Mary wrote.  Her stories were written mainly for the American magazine, Women's Day, which paid a thousand dollars for each story, which was apparently far more than she could have earned in the UK at the time.  (Mollie Panter-Downes was another British author who was writing stories for the American market and wrote a column for the New Yorker at this time--some of which had never been published in the UK until just recently!).  

The stories were written in the 1940s and 50s and were reissued in a Virago Modern Classics edition in 1998.  It's Norton's daughter who writes the introduction, which makes for fascinating reading.  Mary Norton had thought to write an autobiography at one time and I only wish she had done so.  She had won a certain acclaim for her children's books.  They had won awards and been adapted to film (it was Walt Disney himself who called to ask permission to film The Magic Bedknob and Bonfires and Broomsticks--later turned into Bedknobs and Broomsticks).  According to her daughter Mary Norton didn't want to be thought of only as a children's writer but also a storyteller.

"But she did want it understood that she was writing for a specific American market in the 1950s."

"She did begin to  update the stories but then decided they should be left as they were.  The strength of them lies in the women characters' reactions to events, rather than the settings, and those emotions are universal, and timeless.  I personally find something very touching about the stories because I can see her own little thread of inadequacy that ran through her life, borne of the cruelty she suffered at her convent boarding school.  Even in old age she would have nightmares and wake up crying.  'Please mummy and daddy--come and take me away.'  I think the collection shows Mary's acute perception of human frailty and, how with a dash of humour, even a trifling incident can be turned into a good story."

If anyone is writing from life and experience, it is Mary Norton.  I may not have recalled the name when I came across it browsing, but her daughter's introduction gives a fairly vivid, if succinct, picture of what she was like.  Now looking back over the stories I've read (and I have read them over the course of a couple of months, so I won't try and summarize them all now), I can see that thread.  The stories vary in locale and situation.  She writes about working for the BBC (as did Norton) during the war, living and traveling in Portugal, a woman dealing with the loss of vision (Norton's own eyes were operated on), an actress of some fame who prefers to travel in anonymity, affairs of the heart as experienced by women both young and old.  There are a few works in the collection that are more akin to essays or character studies as well. 

I think Norton's daughter was spot-on when she said these are stories about women's reactions to events (small and large) and that the emotions are universal and timeless.  So many years after they were written they still have an appeal and speak to contemporary sensibilities.  Reading them was a real treat and a great find for me.  This is a collection that I look forward to revisiting. 

I've got several more short story collections in progress (sort of being read behind the scenes so to speak), but I should be back to my regularly scheduled Persephone story next weekend.

Weekend Reading Plans

Sorry, no Lost in the Stacks post today, but I'll (hopefully) have one ready for you next Friday.  Since we are going to get yet more snow and it is still cold here, I guess I shall find a quiet corner and a warm beverage and a book or two to keep my mind off the fact that even though spring is here, it isn't here really. 

First up is William McPherson's Testing the Current.  I'm in the home stretch, with just over fifty pages to go.  I've spent lots of (contented) time with this book in the past week and I have gone beyond that point of no return with it--you know when you really can't put the book down until you see how it all finally plays out?  I'm there.

I suspect I'll squeeze in a little short story reading as well.  Added to the Persephone Book of Short Stories is 6 Shorts.  The winner of The Sunday Times EFG Private Bank Short Story Award has been announced and Junot Diaz's "Miss Lora" is the winner.  It's the first story in this collection, which includes all six from the shortlist.  I am looking forward to reading them.  My library loans out Kindles and will download patron requests, and of course I had to request the book (which is very inexpensive by the way).  The other stories are by Mark Haddon, Sarah Hall, Cynan Jones, Toby Litt and Ali Smith.  Yay for short stories.

The clock is ticking on these next two books.  I will be spending a good chunk of my reading time next week with both of them (in hopes I can actually finish before discussion starts on each--but in any case will finish them even if I am a little tardy).  Elizabeth Bowen's The Heat of the Day is for Caroline's Literature and War Readalong--discussion begins March 28.

I've been dipping into Richard Mabey's Nature Cure all week and am enjoying it immensely.  I can sympathize so well with what he went through.  He's such an astute and perceptive writer and I love the idea of nature as a cure.  I'm reading this for Cornflower's Book Group, and discussion begins March 30.

And then for something a little different and totally unplanned (it's good to give in to whims sometimes...okay, so I do it all the time, what can I say).  I have Litlove to thank for the reading tip.  I went to my library's catalog (which is now Worldcat, so the world's libraries are literally at my fingertips) thinking I might be able to interlibrary loan the book (it hasn't yet been published in the US), only to discover that it is a book my library has available as an ebook.  What luck!  So now I am reading Beatrice Hitchman's Petite Mort as well (my Nook sits perfectly on the elliptical machine's little shelf at the gym, freeing up my hands...so convenient).  Both it and the 6 Shorts are two week loans so they get bumped up the pile ahead of a few other books.  Library books are always a little problematic in this way, but what can you do?

So, what are you reading this weekend?  Are you, like me, looking for somewhere warm to read, or has spring arrived in your part of the world?  If it has, please send a little good weather my way!

Reading Serendipity: Molly Keane

I just finished reading Diana Athill's wonderful memoir about her experiences in the publishing world, Stet: An Editor's Life.  She worked for more than forty years with the firm Andre Deutsch from just after WWII until the mid-1980s, and she has some really amazing stories to tell, which she does with verve and panache.  I'm not going to go into detail about the book now, as it is a Slaves read, which will be discussed at the end of the month.  But I will give you a gentle nudge if it looks like something you would enjoy.  If you have an interest in the publishing world, memoirs, and/or a curiosity about writing, do give this a whirl.  And of course you are more than welcome to join in the Slaves discussion, too.  (It's a quick read by the way).

I do want to mention a little bookish serendipity, however.  I love it when books cross paths with each other.  Earlier this week I thought it was time to revive my Molly Keane reading project, and so have been reading Mad Puppetstown.  Lo and behold, who does Athill write about (she writes about a number of authors--keep pen and paper close by if you read Stet as you will likely be jotting down titles to take a closer look at).  Molly Keane wrote more than a dozen books, but nearly thirty years separates the first eleven from the last three.  When Keane married and started a family she gave up writing, and only came back to it as a widow much later.  Andre Deutsch published those last three books and Athill edited her work. 

I was already convinced that Keane is an author to investigate and explore, but Athill just brings to the fore how much I want to do so, and it serves as a reminder that I need to keep going with my project and not let it languish again as her best books are yet to come.  Molly Keane is someone Athill describes as "a person she liked best among those she got to know on the job".  She writes about Keane with obvious affection and respect, so I thought I'd share a couple of quotes here in order to keep with my other posts on Molly Keane. 

"He [John Gielgud--Keane didn't just write novels, but also plays] also paid a warm tribute to her charm and wit, adding that 'she was endlessly painstaking and industrious'--slightly surprising words applied to someone as sparkly as Molly, but they do catch the absence of pretentiousness in her attitude to her work.  Her background was that of the Irish landed gentry, whose daughters were lucky, in her day, if they got more than a scrappy education.  Not that most of them, including Molly, were likely to clamour for more, since horses and men interested them far more than anything else; but Molly had come to feel the lack and it made her humble; she needed to be convinced that she was a good writer."

**********

"The chief difference, it seems to me, between the person who is lucky enough to possess the ability to create--whether with words or sound or pigment or wood or whatever--and those who haven't got it, is that the former react to experience directly and each in his own way, while the latter are less ready to trust their own responses and often prefer to make use of those generally agreed to be acceptable by their friends and relations.  And while the former certainly include by far the greater proportion of individuals who would be difficult to live with, they also include a similarly large proportion of individuals who are exciting or disturbing or amusing or inspiring to know.  And Molly, in addition to having charm and being good, was also a creator."

It sounds as though, and I think I've heard this before, her best or most highly regarded novel is Good Behaviour, which Athill writes about in a little detail.  This, of course, makes me all the more anxious to read it soon, though I am going to try and continue reading the books in the order they were written.  Something to look forward to--a little incentive, if you will. 

Literary Postcards, Part 5

Once again it's been a while since I've shared any of my more bookish postcards.  I'm still very active with Postcrossing, but these days I think I get almost as many cards and letters from friends that I've met online either via Postcrossing or blogging (and I have even been corresponding once again with a penfriend from Germany with whom I lost contact but then connected up with again--and as it turns out she is a Postcrosser, too).  Mondays are usually my best mail days, but if I am lucky I will get something good (either a letter, postcard, book or magazine...yes, I am addicted) most days.

I love these poem postcards that Stefanie sends me on occasion.  I want to be a better poetry-reader, but my books of poetry usually sit towards the bottom of my bedside piles, so these little poems that come in the mail are a lovely little reminder of what I am missing out on.  I wasn't familiar with Edgar Bowers before, but Harold Bloom has called him one of the 20th century masters, so I've added him to  my list of poets to explore.  Isn't this a great poem--very vivid and creates a strong image in my mind.

Isn't this a great image?  I swap book-related postcards with a lady in The Netherlands that I met via Postcrossing.  She finds such cool images.  This is actually a German postcard titled "The Outdoor Bookcase".  I wonder if people can borrow books from it on an honor system?  It looks like it might be near the seaside--somewhere scenic anyway.

Another image from my Dutch friend.  This is what I would like to be doing right now (yes, complete with cup of tea, apple, and what do you think is on the plate--biscuits?).  I'm afraid there is no information on the painter or painting, but it's very pleasant.

This wonderful image is from a friend in London with whom I normally swap art postcards with, but she sent this very bookish card recently.  The descriptions reads "Sicilian Avenue" c. 1925.  Apparently it is not far from Charing Cross Road.  Now this street is all restaurants she tells me.

This colorful postcard came from a Postcrosser who lives in Minsk, Belarus (interestingly I get lots of cards from Belarus--somewhere I had never contemplated visiting before, but now I think it could be lots of fun).  Last year was Year of the Book in Belarus--I've gotten a few postcards from a series related to their celebration.  Alas, I cannot read Cyrillic, so I am not sure what the description says.

I swap all sorts of postcards with my friend John, who is both a blogger and a Postcrosser.  I love this image and have had it hanging on my bulletin board next to my computer since it appeared in my mailbox.  It is the "Boots Library, Church Street, Liverpool, 1938".  I don't get many library postcards so this is an especially cool one. 

I love Colette.  I have a feeling she was quite a formidable woman, but this is such an inviting photo, don't you think?  Pen in hand, I think she must be writing a letter?  Or maybe working on a story?  Belle, another blogging friend, sent this to me during last month's letter writing extravaganza.

Another really wonderful image from a Postcrosser in The Netherlands (and another favorite postcard that I keep on display).  The artists is Fiep Westendorp who I am told illustrated the books of Annie M.G. Schmidt of "Jip en Janneke" fame.  Sorry I don't know the translation (perhaps Cath can help me out?), but the description is "Alleen in boeken hebben ze nog mooie instincten", Het Parool, 18 augustus 1960.

And the stamps are often little works of art, too.  I love these--especially the Daphne du Maurier stamp!  The one on the left is "Jane Eyre" by Charlotte Bronte.

Needless to say I always look forward to coming home from work and seeing what sorts of surprises the mailman has brought me. 

For more literary postcards: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.  I have loads more and will have to share more later.

Teaser Tuesday: Mad Puppetstown

Books often tend to languish on my night table, but none so long as M.J. Farrell's (Molly Keane) Mad Puppetstown.  Through no fault of its own by the way.  It just seems every time I think about picking it up to read I get sidetracked right away.   Several years ago I read, though didn't write about, Two Days in Aragon.  It was a novel I was hugely impressed by, so much so I decided to go back to the beginning of her work and start reading her novels in order.  I managed her first three without a hitch: The Knight of the Cheerful Countenance, Young Entry and Taking Chances, but then things came to a screeching halt.  Just general busyness and other books demanding my attention, and then you know how it goes.  There are books you "mean to read" but just don't seem to get around to them as quickly as you'd like. 

At the rate I'm reading her books it's going to take me a good decade to finish the rest, and the whole idea behind this project was to see how Keane developed as a writer.  I almost feel as though I need to go back to the beginning to make it all fresh in my mind again (though I think I had better not do so), but happily I can just revisit my posts.  Mad Puppetstown is actually quite an appealing story, so I'm giving myself permission to just go and read and not worry about what other books are already in progress (and that I should direct my attention towards first).  And with St. Patrick's Day having just passed, what better time to think about Irish Literature than right now, right?

Puppetstown is the name of a country house where an extended family happily lives in the early 1900s.  It's the typical sort of country life that you expect in one of Keane's novels--carefree and idyllic where the children grow up with few worries and taking part in many happy adventures.  But the "little, bitter, forgotten war in Ireland" will infringe on the house's inhabitants scattering them to England.  The main character is Easter, who at the beginning of the story is only eight.  She lives with her father and cousins and various aunts and household servants.

I thought I'd share a couple of teasers to get the ball rolling.  First something to set the scene.

"People drove about in dog-carts and pony traps.  Invitations were issued to tea."

"Tea parties mattered too."

"Women who powdered their faces were fast.  Women who painted them--bad."

"Hunting, low wages, feather boas, nipped in habit coats, curly bowlers, bunches of violets, black furs and purple hats were very much in vogue."

"A book called Three Weeks was both enjoyed and abused."

"Champagne was a frequent drink.  Women never drank whisky."

And something about Easter, too.

"She wore blue serge sailor suits nearly all the year round, with a flat square collar ornamented by three rows of white tape and a white anchor on her chest.  She wore long brown stockings and black or brown laced boots.  In the winter months she wore a round blue cap with H.M.S. Victory written on it in gold letters, and in the summer months a white straw hat that sat on the very top of her head and was held in place below her chin by a very much bitten piece of elastic.  The hat had H.M.S. Dreadnought written in gold on its blue ribbon--by way of variety, perhaps.  She wore, too, a white cotton petticoat made of stoutly embroidered calico beneath her blue box-pleated skirt."

"Easter's clothes were chosen for her by her aunt, and did not, in those far-away days, appear nearly so horribly grotesque as they sound now."

That last bit elicited a good chuckle out of me.  I think I'm going to like this story very much.  Must just try and stay on task.  I'm not focusing very well on my reading--am here and there with my books lately.  I guess I must have spring fever but there isn't much sign of spring out there sadly.  Best to just keep my nose in a book for the time being.  Specifically Mad Puppetstown.