1953
P. G. Wodehouse
The Return of Jeeves
C-
Don't let the title get your hopes up. Yes, Jeeves returns, but he's working for someone else while Bertie is off getting post-war lessons on taking care of himself, like ironing. Jeeves's new employer has no patience with Jeeves's literary quotes, or much other appreciation of him. Again, we get staleness, typos, and warped romance. (This time, "I'll steal a pendant from the woman I gave it to years ago, even though she thinks it's from one of her late husbands, so I can use it to bet on a race, and then you can marry your girl, who is suspicious of you sneaking out of my woman's room in your pyjamas.") No mention of Hollywood though.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Madame de Pompadour
1953, 2001 New York Review Books edition
Nancy Mitford
Madame de Pompadour
Original price $12.95, purchase price $7.50
Worn paperback
B-
Mitford writes a sympathetic account of Louis XV's famous mistress, although as the Introduction by Amanda Foreman makes clear, Mitford originally planned to present Pompadour as an example of why women shouldn't interfere in politics. (And, yes, this was after her sister Diana did time in prison for supporting British Fascism; sister Unity, an admirer of Hitler, shot herself when Britain declared war on Germany; and sister Jessica became a notorious Red. Not that Nancy was apolitical herself.)
Mitford does show Pompadour's political side, but the emphasis is more on where Pompadour put it, "life as art." Pompadour enjoyed herself, and she also supported artists, architects, and writers. She also seems to have been a nice person, much nicer than most of the people around her. It's Mitford who makes the catty remarks about the 18th-century French notables, but that's part of the fun.
Two gripes. One, there are too many untranslated French passages. And two, Mitford never mentions the famous hairstyle.
Nancy Mitford
Madame de Pompadour
Original price $12.95, purchase price $7.50
Worn paperback
B-
Mitford writes a sympathetic account of Louis XV's famous mistress, although as the Introduction by Amanda Foreman makes clear, Mitford originally planned to present Pompadour as an example of why women shouldn't interfere in politics. (And, yes, this was after her sister Diana did time in prison for supporting British Fascism; sister Unity, an admirer of Hitler, shot herself when Britain declared war on Germany; and sister Jessica became a notorious Red. Not that Nancy was apolitical herself.)
Mitford does show Pompadour's political side, but the emphasis is more on where Pompadour put it, "life as art." Pompadour enjoyed herself, and she also supported artists, architects, and writers. She also seems to have been a nice person, much nicer than most of the people around her. It's Mitford who makes the catty remarks about the 18th-century French notables, but that's part of the fun.
Two gripes. One, there are too many untranslated French passages. And two, Mitford never mentions the famous hairstyle.
Charlotte's Web
1952, 1980 copyright (but see below about condition) HarperCollins edition
E. B. White
Illustrated by Garth Williams
Charlotte's Web
Purchased new for $3.95
Good condition paperback
B
This was a childhood favorite for me, and even in my late 20s I thought it was one of the best children's books I'd ever read. Now though? It's still good, with its blend of naturalism, fantasy, and humor. But the things that bothered me about it before bother me more now. And sadly, the main two things are the two significant characters we're introduced to in the first chapter: Fern and Wilbur. I like Fern through most of the book. She's a sweet, imaginative tomboy. But then, after her mother worries about whether it's normal for Fern to spend all her time in a barn, with no friends but animals, Fern spends time at the fair with Henry Fussy, and she loses interest in the pig who was like a child to her. You just know in a decade she'll marry Henry and be Fern Fussy, and it's just too awful to contemplate.
As for that pig, Wilbur is like a child, and not all in good ways. He's very self-centered and whiny, expecting Charlotte the spider to solve all his problems. Not till the end, when he protects the sac with the 514 baby spiders, does he start to grow up.
Charlotte is awesome though: smart, brave, kind, witty, and loyal. She's even a hairy-legged feminist, with her very matriarchal family. The other character I like is Templeton. Yes, he's a rat in more ways than one but, as he points out, he performs more heroic acts than Wilbur. And he's got much more personality than Percy the Personality Kid in Hidden Valley of Oz.
And suffice to say, Williams knows how to draw rats, and other animals, much better than Dirk. The illustrations are among Williams's best, without a weak one in the bunch, unlike the sometimes off Little House drawings. Actually, his Wilbur is more endearing than White's, even when the pig is crying. The humans aren't as good, but the cover picture of Fern, Wilbur, Charlotte, the old sheep, and the goose is just right.
(I suppose I could also compare this story to the earlier book by White, but all I can think of is that, as in Is Sex Necessary?, females have their act together more than males.)
The 1973 movie of Charlotte's Web, which White disliked, was a big part of my childhood, since it was constantly on TV and had Debbie Reynolds as Charlotte, Paul Lynde as Templeton, and many other voices that I knew from movies and television. Even now I'll happily sing "Fine swine, wish he was mine, Zuckerman's famous pig" at little provocation. Reading the book this time, I was surprised at how faithful the movie was, except for the songs, a bigger role for Henry Fussy and his nagging mother (ugh), and an elaboration of Templeton's junk food junkie dream of the fair. At least, much of the dialogue and the basic messages of friendship and the cycle of life come through. The 2006 version, with Julia Roberts as Charlotte and Dakota Fanning as Fern, is OK but it could no more replace the earlier version than Johnny Depp's Willy Wonka would replace Gene Wilder's.
E. B. White
Illustrated by Garth Williams
Charlotte's Web
Purchased new for $3.95
Good condition paperback
B
This was a childhood favorite for me, and even in my late 20s I thought it was one of the best children's books I'd ever read. Now though? It's still good, with its blend of naturalism, fantasy, and humor. But the things that bothered me about it before bother me more now. And sadly, the main two things are the two significant characters we're introduced to in the first chapter: Fern and Wilbur. I like Fern through most of the book. She's a sweet, imaginative tomboy. But then, after her mother worries about whether it's normal for Fern to spend all her time in a barn, with no friends but animals, Fern spends time at the fair with Henry Fussy, and she loses interest in the pig who was like a child to her. You just know in a decade she'll marry Henry and be Fern Fussy, and it's just too awful to contemplate.
As for that pig, Wilbur is like a child, and not all in good ways. He's very self-centered and whiny, expecting Charlotte the spider to solve all his problems. Not till the end, when he protects the sac with the 514 baby spiders, does he start to grow up.
Charlotte is awesome though: smart, brave, kind, witty, and loyal. She's even a hairy-legged feminist, with her very matriarchal family. The other character I like is Templeton. Yes, he's a rat in more ways than one but, as he points out, he performs more heroic acts than Wilbur. And he's got much more personality than Percy the Personality Kid in Hidden Valley of Oz.
And suffice to say, Williams knows how to draw rats, and other animals, much better than Dirk. The illustrations are among Williams's best, without a weak one in the bunch, unlike the sometimes off Little House drawings. Actually, his Wilbur is more endearing than White's, even when the pig is crying. The humans aren't as good, but the cover picture of Fern, Wilbur, Charlotte, the old sheep, and the goose is just right.
(I suppose I could also compare this story to the earlier book by White, but all I can think of is that, as in Is Sex Necessary?, females have their act together more than males.)
The 1973 movie of Charlotte's Web, which White disliked, was a big part of my childhood, since it was constantly on TV and had Debbie Reynolds as Charlotte, Paul Lynde as Templeton, and many other voices that I knew from movies and television. Even now I'll happily sing "Fine swine, wish he was mine, Zuckerman's famous pig" at little provocation. Reading the book this time, I was surprised at how faithful the movie was, except for the songs, a bigger role for Henry Fussy and his nagging mother (ugh), and an elaboration of Templeton's junk food junkie dream of the fair. At least, much of the dialogue and the basic messages of friendship and the cycle of life come through. The 2006 version, with Julia Roberts as Charlotte and Dakota Fanning as Fern, is OK but it could no more replace the earlier version than Johnny Depp's Willy Wonka would replace Gene Wilder's.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
The Singing Sands
1952, 1985 Penguin edition
Josephine Tey
The Singing Sands
No American price listed, purchase price 99 cents
Worn paperback
C+
While this book has potential, it seems as if Tey wants to deliberately frustrate the reader. Alan Grant from Daughter of Time travels to the Highlands to see his favourite cousin Laura, but a fellow passenger dies on the train North. Although Grant is on vacation, recovering from stress and claustrophobia, it's more like a busman's holiday, as he investigates the mysterious death.
Frustrations, in roughly chronological order:
1. Grant is going to spend his time fishing, but he keeps getting distracted.
2. He goes to get clues in the Hebrides, but it's a dead end.
3. Except that that side trip cures his stress and claustrophobia for good, so they have no further impact on the story.
4. Laura's butch nephew has to present a bouquet to a viscountess, and of course we see nothing of this since Grant is off on his side trip.
5. The viscountess is a potential love interest for either Grant or this book's young American, so of course neither of them gets involved with her.
6. The killer confesses in a letter since he's planning suicide.
This novel was published posthumously, but I don't think that excuses the cavalier way Tey treats the reader.
I've now reviewed 300 works, these last hundred covering 35 years. After Lost Princess of Oz, the stats were:
1 F
3 F+s
2 D-s
4 D's
8 D+s
8 C-s
15 C's
37 C+s
53 B-s
43 B's
21 B+s
5 A-s
No new F's, F+s, or D-s. But there's another D, another D+, three more C-s, and two more C's, so the ranks of the mediocre have broadened a bit. C+s have increased to 48, B-s to 92, which may mean I'm too soft on some books, or too hard on others. (Or maybe I own a lot of "pretty good" books.) There are 76 B's and 30 B+s. And only one new A-.
Josephine Tey
The Singing Sands
No American price listed, purchase price 99 cents
Worn paperback
C+
While this book has potential, it seems as if Tey wants to deliberately frustrate the reader. Alan Grant from Daughter of Time travels to the Highlands to see his favourite cousin Laura, but a fellow passenger dies on the train North. Although Grant is on vacation, recovering from stress and claustrophobia, it's more like a busman's holiday, as he investigates the mysterious death.
Frustrations, in roughly chronological order:
1. Grant is going to spend his time fishing, but he keeps getting distracted.
2. He goes to get clues in the Hebrides, but it's a dead end.
3. Except that that side trip cures his stress and claustrophobia for good, so they have no further impact on the story.
4. Laura's butch nephew has to present a bouquet to a viscountess, and of course we see nothing of this since Grant is off on his side trip.
5. The viscountess is a potential love interest for either Grant or this book's young American, so of course neither of them gets involved with her.
6. The killer confesses in a letter since he's planning suicide.
This novel was published posthumously, but I don't think that excuses the cavalier way Tey treats the reader.
I've now reviewed 300 works, these last hundred covering 35 years. After Lost Princess of Oz, the stats were:
1 F
3 F+s
2 D-s
4 D's
8 D+s
8 C-s
15 C's
37 C+s
53 B-s
43 B's
21 B+s
5 A-s
No new F's, F+s, or D-s. But there's another D, another D+, three more C-s, and two more C's, so the ranks of the mediocre have broadened a bit. C+s have increased to 48, B-s to 92, which may mean I'm too soft on some books, or too hard on others. (Or maybe I own a lot of "pretty good" books.) There are 76 B's and 30 B+s. And only one new A-.
Martha Quest
1952, 1970 New American Library edition
Doris Lessing
Martha Quest
Original price $4.95, purchase price $1.95
Worn paperback with broken spine
B-
This is the first book in Lessing's Children of Violence series and tells of Martha's late adolescence, from 15 to 19, in the years just before World War II. As such, it makes an interesting follow-up to Anne Frank's diary, although the setting is Southern Rhodesia rather than Holland. Like Anne, Martha is an idealist, but she's much more easily discouraged, despite facing less hardship. Anne even in her attic hideaway is a more active figure. Martha drifts, deciding by not deciding, whether it's going to university, getting a job, losing her virginity, or getting married.
This book is based on Lessing's life, although I don't know to what degree. Lessing also grew up in Southern Rhodesia, now Zimbabwe, but she was born in Persia, now Iran. Even by 1952, the world of her teens had changed irrevocably, and just listing the places shows what a period piece this is. And yet, Lessing is the first of the authors I'm rereading that is still alive. In fact, in 2007 she became at 87 the oldest recipient of the Nobel Prize in Literature.
I found this early work of hers painful to reread, both because of the pains of her coming of age, and of the reminder of how I first read it in my idealistic early 20s. Like the slightly younger heroine, I read authors in a random fashion, sometimes because they were mentioned by other writers. My book collection today is a legacy of that eclectic self-education. But now I'm in my mid 40s, and I want to issue maternal warnings to Martha.
Another painful aspect of the novel is the racism. This is not the racism of Kingsblood Royal or Passing, where bigots are subhuman. What's scary here is how "normal" the bigotry is, how the bigots think that their prejudice is reasonable and even friendly. A scene late in the novel has the wedding-goers chasing after the bridal couple in cars, delayed only for a moment when they knock down a black man. They're like the upper-class people who hit a cat in Howards End, thinking that their money can solve everything. (The cat died, the man lives, but he's clearly injured.) When Martha's mother accuses a servant of stealing an item she misplaced, she insists that he's a thief anyway. It's darkly funny, but she's not exaggerated as Uncle Matthew is in the Mitford novels. Mrs. Quest is all too real and believable. This book is both universal and very specific to its time and place.
Not only geography and politics have changed in 60 years. There were three pop-cultural moments that took me out of the book. One is Martha asking in regards to her mother, "What's love got to do with it?" Earlier, she says something is as ridiculous as a beetle singing. And the name of Martha's brother? Jonathan Quest.
Doris Lessing
Martha Quest
Original price $4.95, purchase price $1.95
Worn paperback with broken spine
B-
This is the first book in Lessing's Children of Violence series and tells of Martha's late adolescence, from 15 to 19, in the years just before World War II. As such, it makes an interesting follow-up to Anne Frank's diary, although the setting is Southern Rhodesia rather than Holland. Like Anne, Martha is an idealist, but she's much more easily discouraged, despite facing less hardship. Anne even in her attic hideaway is a more active figure. Martha drifts, deciding by not deciding, whether it's going to university, getting a job, losing her virginity, or getting married.
This book is based on Lessing's life, although I don't know to what degree. Lessing also grew up in Southern Rhodesia, now Zimbabwe, but she was born in Persia, now Iran. Even by 1952, the world of her teens had changed irrevocably, and just listing the places shows what a period piece this is. And yet, Lessing is the first of the authors I'm rereading that is still alive. In fact, in 2007 she became at 87 the oldest recipient of the Nobel Prize in Literature.
I found this early work of hers painful to reread, both because of the pains of her coming of age, and of the reminder of how I first read it in my idealistic early 20s. Like the slightly younger heroine, I read authors in a random fashion, sometimes because they were mentioned by other writers. My book collection today is a legacy of that eclectic self-education. But now I'm in my mid 40s, and I want to issue maternal warnings to Martha.
Another painful aspect of the novel is the racism. This is not the racism of Kingsblood Royal or Passing, where bigots are subhuman. What's scary here is how "normal" the bigotry is, how the bigots think that their prejudice is reasonable and even friendly. A scene late in the novel has the wedding-goers chasing after the bridal couple in cars, delayed only for a moment when they knock down a black man. They're like the upper-class people who hit a cat in Howards End, thinking that their money can solve everything. (The cat died, the man lives, but he's clearly injured.) When Martha's mother accuses a servant of stealing an item she misplaced, she insists that he's a thief anyway. It's darkly funny, but she's not exaggerated as Uncle Matthew is in the Mitford novels. Mrs. Quest is all too real and believable. This book is both universal and very specific to its time and place.
Not only geography and politics have changed in 60 years. There were three pop-cultural moments that took me out of the book. One is Martha asking in regards to her mother, "What's love got to do with it?" Earlier, she says something is as ridiculous as a beetle singing. And the name of Martha's brother? Jonathan Quest.
The Diary of a Young Girl
1952, probably early 1980s Pocket Books edition
Anne Frank
The Diary of a Young Girl
Original price $2.25, see below
Falling apart paperback
B
The inside cover has my name in cursive that's bolder than what I write now but still recognizable. The stamp says this is a gift from my junior high PTA. So the book is at least 30 years old. By the time it was assigned in high school, I'd read it at least twice, and I've reread it a few times over the years.
This time, while I see Anne's (justified) fears of being captured by the Nazis, I mostly see a girl who is a bright but in some ways typical adolescent, 13- to 15-years-old, trapped with a set of people that she sometimes gets along with and sometimes doesn't. Like many teens (and adults), she rants about how people get on her nerves, although she's able to look back, maybe minutes later but usually months later, and see things from another perspective. While on the surface a bubbly, popular girl, she's also very introspective, made more so by the circumstance of never going outside for two years.
Anne thinks about serious issues and wishes she had someone other than "Kitty" (her diary) to confide in. Both her father and Peter, the boy a few years older than herself that she grows fond of, disappoint her in different ways. Peter is of course the only eligible boy around, and there's an implication that they probably wouldn't have got involved in normal life, but their young love is sweet. Despite the concerns and teasing of the adults, they kiss and cuddle.
Anne is, excuse the pun, very frank, including about sexual feelings. I remember two of the six boys in my high school Advanced English class objecting to the "lesbian" part of her diary. (No, they didn't think it was "hot." The '80s were a weird time.) Anne discusses her attraction to and curiosity about other girls. I don't think she was bisexual, although it's impossible to say since her father edited out some of the sexual content on the advice of the original Dutch publishers. The 1995 English translation is based on an unexpurgated text, but I haven't read it. The American Library Association says there have been six challenges to the diary since 1990, due to "complaints about its sexual content and homosexual themes."
This is sort of a side issue. Anne was a whole person, and the diary reveals different sides, including her sense of humor, as shown in little essays and stories. There are many complaints on Amazon about her complaining, but that didn't really bother me because, one, I'm a complainer (if you haven't guessed by now); two, her gripes were mostly justified; three, she was writing in her diary; and four, she also could be very upbeat and positive.
So what are my complaints about the book, why don't I rate it higher? Two things. I don't think the tragedy of her life makes the book better, since this isn't about her life in Bergen-Belsen, and it feels uneven in that over half the book is from the 1944 entries. On the one hand, I can understand that she didn't always have something to write about, but on the other, it feels weird that she'll sometimes skip over a month. It's a good book but I don't think a great one. However, for a girl in her young teens, it's impressive, and it remains an inspiring document of life under oppression.
Anne Frank
The Diary of a Young Girl
Original price $2.25, see below
Falling apart paperback
B
The inside cover has my name in cursive that's bolder than what I write now but still recognizable. The stamp says this is a gift from my junior high PTA. So the book is at least 30 years old. By the time it was assigned in high school, I'd read it at least twice, and I've reread it a few times over the years.
This time, while I see Anne's (justified) fears of being captured by the Nazis, I mostly see a girl who is a bright but in some ways typical adolescent, 13- to 15-years-old, trapped with a set of people that she sometimes gets along with and sometimes doesn't. Like many teens (and adults), she rants about how people get on her nerves, although she's able to look back, maybe minutes later but usually months later, and see things from another perspective. While on the surface a bubbly, popular girl, she's also very introspective, made more so by the circumstance of never going outside for two years.
Anne thinks about serious issues and wishes she had someone other than "Kitty" (her diary) to confide in. Both her father and Peter, the boy a few years older than herself that she grows fond of, disappoint her in different ways. Peter is of course the only eligible boy around, and there's an implication that they probably wouldn't have got involved in normal life, but their young love is sweet. Despite the concerns and teasing of the adults, they kiss and cuddle.
Anne is, excuse the pun, very frank, including about sexual feelings. I remember two of the six boys in my high school Advanced English class objecting to the "lesbian" part of her diary. (No, they didn't think it was "hot." The '80s were a weird time.) Anne discusses her attraction to and curiosity about other girls. I don't think she was bisexual, although it's impossible to say since her father edited out some of the sexual content on the advice of the original Dutch publishers. The 1995 English translation is based on an unexpurgated text, but I haven't read it. The American Library Association says there have been six challenges to the diary since 1990, due to "complaints about its sexual content and homosexual themes."
This is sort of a side issue. Anne was a whole person, and the diary reveals different sides, including her sense of humor, as shown in little essays and stories. There are many complaints on Amazon about her complaining, but that didn't really bother me because, one, I'm a complainer (if you haven't guessed by now); two, her gripes were mostly justified; three, she was writing in her diary; and four, she also could be very upbeat and positive.
So what are my complaints about the book, why don't I rate it higher? Two things. I don't think the tragedy of her life makes the book better, since this isn't about her life in Bergen-Belsen, and it feels uneven in that over half the book is from the 1944 entries. On the one hand, I can understand that she didn't always have something to write about, but on the other, it feels weird that she'll sometimes skip over a month. It's a good book but I don't think a great one. However, for a girl in her young teens, it's impressive, and it remains an inspiring document of life under oppression.
Monday, June 4, 2012
The Daughter of Time
1951, 1995 Scribner edition
Josephine Tey
The Daughter of Time
Original price $9.00, purchase price unknown
Worn paperback
B
The "title character" is truth, which is debatable. Sometimes the passage of time can reveal the truth, but often it obscures it. When it comes to Richard III, who knows? Tey does make a compelling case that Henry VII, rather than his predecessor, killed "the Princes in the Tower," but there is a lot of leaping to conclusions by the detective Alan Grant and his American sidekick. It's a fun read, whatever you decide. This time, I particularly liked Tey's pastiches, including of historical fiction. I kept thinking they were real. But I suspect that The Sweat and the Furrow is from the genre that Gibbons was parodying in Cold Comfort Farm. Getting back to the historical portions of the novel, Tey does a good job of keeping the major figures clear, even if she does sometimes oversimplify. I think both Richard III and Henry VII were ruthless, but that doesn't necessarily mean either ordered the killing of small children. And it's not necessary to blame Henry to get Richard off the hook, although I suppose a murder mystery has to have a definite killer. At least Tey acknowledges she's not the first to suggest Richard's innocence, although she was the first in awhile. (Remember, even Jane Austen had her doubts about Richard's villainy.)
Josephine Tey
The Daughter of Time
Original price $9.00, purchase price unknown
Worn paperback
B
The "title character" is truth, which is debatable. Sometimes the passage of time can reveal the truth, but often it obscures it. When it comes to Richard III, who knows? Tey does make a compelling case that Henry VII, rather than his predecessor, killed "the Princes in the Tower," but there is a lot of leaping to conclusions by the detective Alan Grant and his American sidekick. It's a fun read, whatever you decide. This time, I particularly liked Tey's pastiches, including of historical fiction. I kept thinking they were real. But I suspect that The Sweat and the Furrow is from the genre that Gibbons was parodying in Cold Comfort Farm. Getting back to the historical portions of the novel, Tey does a good job of keeping the major figures clear, even if she does sometimes oversimplify. I think both Richard III and Henry VII were ruthless, but that doesn't necessarily mean either ordered the killing of small children. And it's not necessary to blame Henry to get Richard off the hook, although I suppose a murder mystery has to have a definite killer. At least Tey acknowledges she's not the first to suggest Richard's innocence, although she was the first in awhile. (Remember, even Jane Austen had her doubts about Richard's villainy.)
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