A Work in Progress

Teaser Tuesday: Chocolat

One of my all-time favorite reads is Chocolat by Joanne Harris.  I have read the book multiple times and am returning to it once again now.  It is a comfort read for me, but I also think it is a wonderful example of really good storytelling.  The story is so lush and vibrant and magical in all senses of the word.  For me the story itself is magical (it makes me feel all warm and happy inside), but there are also magical elements to it since Vianne Rocher, the story's protagonist has magical/transformative abilities. 

I like to read it at this time of year.  Not only am I tiring of winter and in need of a good comfort read, but the story opens on "Fat Tuesday", the day before the first day of Lent.  Vianne and her daughter Anouk have arrived in the small village of Lansquenet.  It was their version of Carnival, complete with parade and candies showering down on the village children that made them stop.  The pair are modern day gypsies--never staying too long in one place.  So this week I added Chocolat to my reading pile for a nice leisurely visit once again to Lansquenet.  February in France sounds quite inviting and charming and just what I need to see me through the end of winter.

So, now I shall share a little teaser with you, and if you have not yet had the pleasure of reading Joanne Harris or this book, you can get a taste of her lovely prose.

"February 11, Shrove Tuesday"

"We came on the wind of the carnival.  A warm wind for February, laden with the hot greasy scents of frying pancakes and sausages and powdery-sweet waffles cooked on the hot plate right there by the roadside, with the confetti sleeting down collars and cuffs and rolling in the gutters like an idiot antidote to winter.  There is a febrile excitement to the crowds that line the narrow street, necks craning to catch sight of the crepe-covered char with its trailing ribbons and paper rosettes.  Anouk watches, eyes wide, a yellow balloon in one hand and a toy trumpet in the other, from between a shopping basket and a sad brown dog.  We have seen carnivals before, she and I; a procession of two hundred and fifty of the decorated chars in Paris last Mardi Gras, a hundred and eighty in New York, two dozen marching bands in Vienna, clowns on stilts, the Grosses Têtes with their lolling papier-maché heads, drum majorettes with batons spinning and sparkling.  But at six the world retains a special luster.  A wooden cart, hastily decorated with gilt and crêpe, and scenes from fairy tales.  A dragon's head on a shield, Rapunzel in a wooden wig, a mermaid with a cellophane tail, a gingerbread house all icing and gilded cardboard, a witch in the doorway, waggling extravagant green fingernails at a group of silent children . . .  At six it is possible to perceive subtleties that a year later are already out of reach.  Behind the papier-maché, the icing, the plastic, she can still see the real witch, the real magic.  She looks up at me, her eyes, which are the blue-green of Earth seen from a great height, shining."

I love this opening page.  I can see it all so well and for a while, as I immerse myself in the story, I feel that magic, the real magic--just like Anouk.  And with the progress of the story and the progress of Lent towards Easter, is also the promise of Spring on the horizon!  Now that is a magical idea, indeed!

State of the Nightstand: February 11

Just one book shifted out and finished and another novel by Anita Brookner to take its place (I want to read my way through her books and we will see how many I can read this year).  Plus a new book of short stories.  Progress in other books.  And Eileen Chang is hanging out in my locker at the gym.

You know, of course, that I am always 'looking' at books even if I am not quite yet ready to make a commitment to reading them.  a few new library books that I just picked up.  A book that I was talking to someone about (that I had to have when it first came out in hardcover but have not gotten to yet), a book that a friend sent to me as a gift and two mysteries that I was thinking about.

What will I be reading this week?  Definitely the Diaz.  I hope to finish the Spark, make progress in the Chang (my February NYRB has not yet arrive), am really absorbed in the Moss.  And then, maybe it is time to reach for a book from the pile in the back?

February 9: Weekend Reading Notes

I really wish I had a sunny, warm reading photo to share today, but this is closer to reality.  Even though it is a snowy picture, there is something very inviting about it.  It's going to be a good weekend to stay indoors and read.  I have to sort through library books as I have had a number of new books come my way.  It's always the case that they arrive at once, isn't it? 

I discovered that one of the more recent Persephones and that I had been so excited about picking up is a book I read several years ago.  I hate how quickly and sometimes how deeply stories fade from my mind.  I read Diana Tutton's Guard Your Daughters five years ago.  I didn't realize when I started reading that I had very much enjoyed it previously, but my post is rather vague, so maybe it is time for a reread as the story only feels familiar but I don't recall much of it.  However, I have discovered that Malachi Whitaker is a very good short story writer and I plan on reading The Journey Home and Other Stories.  I think I might even have to buy my own copy of it.  I was so intrigued by the quirky first story of the collection that I think she is someone I need to read more of.

I have too many library books to give the full run down on, but there are a few others I am hoping to dip into and maybe even read.  Alicia Drake's I Love You Too Much is set in Paris and is a coming of age story.  "Seeking solace in an unlikely friendship with rebellious classmate Scarlett and succumbing to the temptation of the numerous patisseries in his elegant neighborhood, Paul searches for unconditional love. But what will he do if he can't find it?"

I love movies and go quite often to see all the artsy new releases (and often much older films that a local indie cinema happily shows--latest repertory series are the films of French director Agnes Varda), so when I saw there is one of those "A Very Short Introduction" books on The History of Cinema, by Geoffrey Nowell-Smith I snapped it up and can't wait to look at over the weekend.

The three books currently waiting for me are all books I have been really looking forward to.  Will Boast's Daphne is a retelling of the Greek Myth of Daphne and Apollo (where she is turned into a laurel tree to avoid his amorous overtures).  In Boast's version a young woman living in San Francisco must decide whether to "cling to her pristine, manicured isolation or risk the recklessness of real intimacy."

I have never read Rachel Joyce, but her new novel The Music Shop sounds charming and fun and the cast of characters sounds like a group of average misfits, which I find very inviting.  "The Music Shop is a story about good, ordinary people who take on forces too big for them. It's about falling in love and how hard it can be. And it's about music - how it can bring us together when we are divided and save us when all seems lost."

And Mary Lynn Bracht's White Chrysanthemum is so typically me in that it is a historical novel set during the war years.  This one has a slightly different slant than what I normally choose.  "Korea, 1943, under Japanese occupation: As a haenyeo, a female diver of the sea, Hana enjoys an independence that few other Koreans can still claim. Until the day she saves her younger sister from a Japanese soldier and is herself captured and transported to Manchuria. There she is forced to become a 'comfort woman' in a Japanese military brothel. South Korea, 2011: Emi has spent more than sixty years trying to forget the sacrifice her sister made. Seeing the healing of her children and her country, can Emi move beyond the legacy of war to find forgiveness?"  This sounds like it might be heavy-going, but I will give it a try and see how it goes.

There has not been much shifting in my night table piles, but maybe one of these will be added over the weekend to stir things up!  Otherwise it will be continuing on with my current reads.  Hope you're reading something good this weekend, too.

A London Child of the 1870s, Molly Hughes

The world as seen through the eyes of a child is always an interesting one, and memoirs written from that perspective even if written from the vantage point of adulthood are amongst my favorites.  A London Child of the 1870s  by Molly Hughes is as delightful as you might imagine.  It never wanders into the realm of either sentimentality or bleakness and the memoir is not an exercise in naval gazing.  Somehow she manages to get it all just right which is an accomplishment indeed. 

"None of the characters in this book are fictitious.  The incidents, if not dramatic, are at least genuine memories.  Expressions of jollity and enjoyment of life are understatements rather than overstatements.  We were just an ordinary, suburban, Victorian family, undistinguished in ourselves and unacquainted with distinguished people."

Molly's world may have been of the ordinary variety, but it was never lacking in love or familial adventure.  Maybe it was due to having very grounded and optimistic parents, or maybe because she was the youngest of five children and the only girl.  Having my idea of what it means to be of the Victorian era formed by literature, I was almost surprised that it was so ordinary, though certainly her stories are of a very insular nature.  They are memories and stories of a childhood surely typical of the time, but she goes beyond the clichés of Victorian literature to present the colorful reality.  Her family life was not without its share of sadness, though neither was this a household where the children were only seen and not heard. 

Her memoirs begin with an introduction to her family, and from her perspective having four elder brothers and parents who "knew how to laugh at both jokes and disasters" was to be born under a lucky star.  One of the things that struck me most was how close her family was and the fact that her parents took so much of the children's, shall we call it, youthful effervescence, in stride.  Not only the hijnks but the disasters, too.  The book is made up of a series of what seem like vignettes and covers a period of 1870-1879, which then come to an abrupt end, and if you read the book you'll understand why.

But those years, when the family moved into a "big house in Canonbury" (the book comes complete with photo of the home and I wish there had also been photos of the family, too) were mostly happy ones, and as Molly says, not dull in the least.  I think she moves about through time without ever explicitly telling when events occurred as each chapter is presented around a theme or activity.  The memoirs, at least as they made an impression on my, were bookended by happy scenes of Christmas, and maybe I will save those bits for later in the year to come back to.  All the other moments were just as colorful and pleasing to read about. 

Nearly a century and a half later, life in the contemporary world at times seems to bear few similarities to the world as Molly knew it, which makes for fascinating reading.  Unlike her brothers she was not educated outside the home, at least not until she was older.  When she did finally get to go to school it was a disappointment being a girls' education and not much like what her brother received.  She was educated mostly by her mother, which was not such a bad thing as she "had had a richly varied and adventurous life". 

Mostly she had to make do with what was at hand for educational and entertainment purposes.  Imagine such a world now.  She had few toys but never felt lacking.  I had to laugh when she said, "when young ladies were invited out to tea they were set down to a meal of thick bread and butter before starting, in order that their appetites should appear elegant.  They were commanded to leave something on their plate, however pleasing the dish."  She was lucky in her mother, who taught her so well and shared her own stories with Molly, as she rarely seemed in a foul mood or especially critical even over less than proper behavior.

My favorite parts of the book were about her travels to Cornwall from which her mother came and where she loved to visit and about the "family club" they devised.  If you think women did not have independent lives, Molly's aunt Tony certainly broke the mold.  She managed a household and its inhabitants and took on the role of many in her daily tasks.  Child through she was and seeing life and the lives around her through those naive eyes, she also has many moments of clarity of what it means, too, to be a woman in a time like the Victorian era where everything had to be so properly done or your good name might be ruined. 

Especially heartening for readers, and as it comes at the end of the book so on a happy note, is reading about the "family club" they created, which was essentially a library.  The funds for buying books came from fines from breaking rules.  Broken rules meant barred entry into the "family club" which was agony for the children as that is where most of the family life took place.  Fines were paid and entrance gained once again, but to not have the funds to pay the fines . . . excruciating.  The money was put to good use, however, as books were added, and happy day when a "new" book could be bought.  (And thinking of my own book spending habits, that was a very different world indeed).

Apparently Molly wrote two further books of memoirs which I am curious about.  I have heard this is the best of the bunch and it is a eminently readable book, perfect for dipping into and enjoying.  It actually works well with my February prompt, too.  A book I can easily press into another reader's hands and one I plan on revisiting once again at holidaytime.

Teaser Tuesday: The Public Image

I mentioned that I hope this year to have a Virago Modern Classic or Persephone on the go and on my night stand this year.  Since I have finished my first Persephone of the year (and hope to write about it soon), it is time to select a VMC and naturally I need to mark Muriel Spark's Centennial Birthday.  As I have a small handful of those lovely Virago reissues on my TBR pile, I handily grabbed what was on top and have decided to start with her 1968 Booker shortlist novel, The Public Image. 

I've read a few of her really well-known novels and maybe one or two lesser known works (she was really prolific, wasn't she?!), but it has been ages since I picked up any of her books.  I forgot what a wonderful prose stylist she was.  I've only barely started this short novel, but already I am drawn in by the characters, who seem pretty flawed but all the more interesting for it. 

The story is set in Italy, though it seems to move around in time a bit and reaches back to English soil.  Annabel is a famous actress, though I think it is less her abilities and more her fifteen minutes of fame that the story is about, but we'll see.  Her husband is "handsome and devoted" but is not approving of her vapid existence--she is worried mostly about keeping up appearances and grooming her public image.  So, social satire?  Will Spark skewer Ms. Christopher and her motivations?  I shall soon find out. 

Over just the span of a couple of pages let's see how Annabel develops:

"Off the screen Annabel Christopher looked a puny little thing, as in fact she had looked on screen until fairly recently.  To those who had not first seen her in the new new films, or publicity pictures, she still looked puny, an English girl from Wakefield, with a peaky face and mousey hair."

Three years later:

"Annabel was now in demand for small parts in films, always the same type: she was called for wherever a little slip of a thing was needed . . ."

By a decade later an Italian director had transformed her and she became known by one of her roles as 'English Lady-Tiger'.

"But in those earlier times when she began to be in demand in English films, she had no means of knowing that she was, in fact, stupid, for, after all, it is the deep core of stupidity that it thrives on the absence of a looking-glass."

Now that sets a tone, doesn't it?  It will be interesting to see how she fares and how she comes out from it all in the end.  Will happiness and success be hers?  I wonder.

State of the Nightstand: February 4

A new month.  A tiny bit of a reshuffle.  A couple of books finished and rotated out.  Fresh blood.  Progress on old blood.  A potential reread and that might the the Muriel Spark I settle on (or I might pick another one but need to decide soon).

And the Other (new) February Reads

Goodbye January and so nice to see you February, though the cold is continuing here with a nice gusty Arctic blast to start the month.  At least now, however, it's easier to think that 'next month is the start of spring'.  I will be telling myself that a lot this month.  So, while I wait out the cold, I have several new books that I am starting to read and the promise of a few more as I finish up a few holdovers from last month.

I'm hoping that I can squeeze in two prompt books this month.  Because I have been thinking about it so much of late I decided to start with Sarah Moss's Bodies of Light (there are two books that come after that continue the story, I believe).  I have heard many good things about it and as it is a bit shorter than most of the other books I was considering it should be a good fit (and hopefully I can still read one of the other even shorter novels, too).  It is set in the Victorian era and touches on art and science and growing up and coming of age, none of which will come without struggle.

Since Stefanie and I had so much fun reading John Wyndham's The Day of the Triffids we decided to pick another book to read in tandem, so Dava Sobel's The Glass Universe it is.  I have only just barely started, but it seems to almost read like fiction.  I had to have this one as soon as it came out, so I am happy to finally start reading it.

My other new addition to the reading pile is Junot Diaz's The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, which I am reading along with Buried in Print.  It won all kinds of awards and judging by the first few pages that I read yesterday I can see why.  The narrator instantly draws you in and has a most wonderful 'voice'.  I love hearing him in my mind and the cadences of his dialogue is almost musical, but musical in a very energetic way.  I only worry now, as the title is "brief" and "wondrous" . . . brief?  Am I going to get attached to Oscar and then lose him?  Only time will tell what it means.

On the horizon I have a few more books that I will soon get to.  I do this and wonder if you do, too . . .  I mentally plan out what I will read when I finish a particular book.  Aside from the pleasure of thinking about what I will be reading soon, there is that extra little nudge and incentive to stay on track with my current reads.  My reading pile is not going to stay tidy, I know that, but I can at least try and make my reading flow better than I usually do.

So, as soon as I finish Molly Hughes's A London Child of the 1870s, which I have in a Persephone edition, I plan on picking up a Virago Modern Classic.  Every year I lament that I read so few of those books of each publisher that I am trying to at least keep one on my reading pile throughout the course of the year.  I feel like I need to do something special to celebrate the 40th anniversary of those lovely VMCs!  Since yesterday marked her 100th birthday, she is going to be my next Virago selection.  Now deciding which  Muriel Spark novel!

I might have to jump the queue with my next mystery read.  I am working on Agatha Christie's Five Little Pigs (and maybe a weekend of determined and only Poirot reading would finish it), but I am eager to watch the new Netflix's new Babylon Berlin.  I quickly ordered the book Babylon Berlin by Volker Kutscher, the first book of several from what I understand.  Do I begin watching before reading?  Read first and watch later?  Or read and watch in tandem (which is tricky with a crime show).  The show is a German import and I had heard it would be subtitled (which is preferable for my tastes), but I see the trailer is dubbed, so I will have to investigate that--maybe there is an option to watch both ways?  My other crime selection is the much anticipated French novel The Perfect Nanny by Leila Slimani, which is also waiting on my bedside pile.

I haven't peeked yet to try and guess which new NYRB Classic will be the next subscription book, but I don't expect it for another week or two yet, which will give me time to keep making progress on Eileen Chang's Little Reunions.  I was very hesitant when it first came and I began reading, but while that eight page list of characters still seems rather formidable, I must say I am not finding the reading as hard going as I thought it might be.  It has taken me a while to get into the story, but I am finding a certain rhythm with it.  And I have even been using that character list as a reinforcement of who's who.  I have tried a little trick with it, and it seems to be working.  I just set out each day to read 5-6 pages.  I know it seems like very little, but it is steady reading and I am making slow progress.  I likely will jump into the February book while continuing on with my daily ration of pages with the Chang.  It has become a habit and it is working, so I think I will have to try this with a few other books that seem a little stalled at the moment!

Be gone cold, I will have no more of you.  Wishful thinking.  But I have lots and lots of books to help keep my mind distracted from those cold north winds (and once again, that threat of weekend snow).

Happy weekend reading everyone.

February Prompt: Long Ago and Far Away!

Last month for my prompt I had a book in mind so I just grabbed it and started reading and there was no agonizing over a book choice.  This month I have a few books in mind for my 'long ago and far away' prompt, which essentially means a good story of historical fiction, but then as I was searching them out on my shelves (still a few didn't make it into the pile) I find other books that would work as well.  So now my choice has become just a bit more complicated.

My only 'restriction' of choosing is that it is a story set prior to the twentieth century, since I tend to pick up stories set in modern times more often than not.  And it would be preferable to pick something from my own book collection rather than borrowing from the library, but if a story calls out to be so strongly I can't ignore it . . . My choices this month-

Bodies of Light by Sarah Moss - Set in 19th-century Manchester.  I think this is the first of three books.  Leaning heavily towards this one.

The White Witch by Elizabeth Goudge - Set in 17th-century England.  The English Civil War is not my favorite subject to read about (hence being stuck in Restoration England in the Morland Saga of Cynthia Harrod-Eagles), but this has gotten so many stellar reviews.

Purity of Blood by Arturo Pérez-Reverte - Swashbuckling story set in 17th-century Spain.  I read the first Alatriste novel ages and ages ago.  Bonus-translated from Spanish.

She Rises by Kate Worsley - Set in 18th-century England as well as at sea.

The Diary of Emily Dickinson by Jamie Fuller - Set in Amherst between 1867-1868.  Bonus-not only diary format but includes some of her poetry.

Rebel Princess by Judith Koll Healey - Set in 13th-century France.  This is the sequel to The Canterbury Papers, which I reread a few years back.

Witch Child by Celia Rees - Set in New England in 1659.  Bonus-this YA novel is written in diary format.

And a few I didn't immediately find in my piles-

Beautiful Lies by Clare Clark - Set in London 1887

The Revolution of the Moon by Andrea Camilleri - Set in 17th-century Sicily.  Bonus-translated from the Italian.

Ophelia by Lisa Klein - 17th-century retelling of Hamlet.  Bonus-this has been adapted to film, and I hope to see it when it comes out.  Unfortunately have not been able to locate my copy. 

If I want to muddy the waters even more I can (continue) looking through the archives of the Women's Prize for Fiction at the longlist titles, of which there are many excellent novels of historical fiction.  Bonus-can keep ticking off books from that mental wishlist to read.  I have so many good books to choose from and more than one is calling out to me very strongly.  I am hoping that if I choose carefully (historical fiction can be quite lengthy at times), I might be able to read two books this month.

Do you have a favorite novel of historical fiction (pre-20th-century)?  Just curious . . .