Monday, May 7, 2012

Cold Comfort Farm

1932, undated (see below) Penguin edition
Stella Gibbons
Cold Comfort Farm
Original price unknown, bought used for $2.95
Worn paperback
B

This is definitely a case of seeing the adaptation first, specifically the 1995 Kate Beckinsdale version.  (There's also a three-parter made for British television in '68.)  The book goes into more detail of course, including about the wrong done to Flora's father.  ("And did the goat die?")  I think the inevitable simplification of adaptation pays off in regards to two characters, Mrs. Smiling and Charles.  Gibbons has a habit of introducing characters and then lightly tossing them aside and substituting others.  It plays better with Charles rather than Claud as Flora's date to the birthday ball, and you need to see Mrs. Smiling's reactions to Flora's mad country relations.

Speaking of relatives, there's a well-done family tree here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Cold-comfort-farm-genealogy.png

The book is a parody of a bunch of genres I haven't read.  (The closest is I've read about D. H. Lawrence in Sexual Politics.)  I think it works fine on its own, like in the purple prose that Gibbons helpfully stars à la Baedeker.  My favorite bits are actually when the narrator gently teases the heroine, as in "Flora, who, as we know loathed parties, dined quietly with intelligent men: a way of passing the evening which she adored, because then she could show-off a lot and talk about herself."  The book opens with a misquote from Mansfield Park, and Flora hopes that when she's 53 she'll write a book just as good as Persuasion, but with a modern setting of course.  The book does feel at times like a lesser Jane Austen novel, with a modern setting of course.


About that modern setting.  The post-Foreword Note says, "The action of the story takes place in the near future," and there is a reference to the Anglo-Nicaraguan War of 1946.  And yet, 90-year-old Amos sings a song he learned for the wedding of George IV (1795).  It's part of the same absurdity that allows cows to lose limbs without suffering, and four children under the age of four to all speak, perform chores, and be trained to form a jazz band.


I wish I could give this book a higher grade, but it does feel like it becomes tired before it concludes on p. 233.  Also, I can't say I entirely sympathize with Flora's aims.  On the one hand, it's great to see her bring cleanliness and sanity to the farm denizens.  When she, a very nice middle-class (probably virginal) girl recommends birth control to the mother of the "embryo jazz band," it's both shocking and sensible, in a very pleasing way.  But I have mixed feelings about her advice to Elfine.  Yes, it helps Elfine capture Richard Hawk-Monitor, but is he such a prize?  Elfine's minor rebellion is to plan to write poetry in secret and publish when she's 50.


Also, the line "Like all really strong-minded women, on whom everybody flops, she adored being bossed about.  It was so restful" brings out my feminist grrrr, although it's not as bad as what happens to Dorothy in But Gentlemen Marry Brunettes.  Gibbons does mock the idea that Branwell Brontë wrote his sisters' novels and poetry, here presented by pretentious intellectual Mr. Mybug, but still a recurring theory, as a quick Google search shows.

(Of course, the weirdest book I have about the "truth" of the Brontës is The Crimes of Charlotte Brontë, a laughably bad 1999 mystery.)

Gibbons died in 1989, but the biographical page mentions The Woods in Winter (1970) and describes her as living in North London, so this edition obviously came out in the 1970s or '80s.

Sunday, May 6, 2012

The Pure and the Impure

1932, 1967 Farrar, Straus & Giroux edition
Colette
The Pure and the Impure, original title Ces Plaisirs
Original price $2.95, bought used for $1.50
Slightly worn paperback
B-

This is Colette's musings on love and passion, particularly homosexual.  Some of it is personal, like her affair with poet Renée Vivien, but most of it is more general.  My favorite part is the story of the Ladies of Llangollen, a real-life Irish couple who lived blissfully if quietly together for 53 years, till one died in 1829.  Some of Colette's observations about gender and sexuality feel dated, or at least debatable, but it is interesting to get the perspective of someone who lived The Life in the early 20th-century.  By the way, Colette has now passed Jane Austen as the author who covers the greatest span in my collection, 32 years and counting.  (We've still got that Gigi etc. collection to finish.)

The World of Jeeves

1931, 1989 Harper & Row edition
P. G. Wodehouse
The World of Jeeves
Bought newish for $10.95
Worn paperback with cracking spine
B


If I could count all these short stories separately, Wodehouse would start out with a lot of posts but, while these were originally published from 1919 to 1930 (with two more added for the 1967 edition), these are not the original versions.  I learned this when I checked The Initimable Jeeves out from the library.  There were some of these stories, but one had a character described as "looking like Lillian Gish coming out of a swoon," while the version here has either Marlene Dietrich or Greta Garbo.  It seems that for the '31 edition, references to earlier actresses got changed to either Dietrich or Garbo.  In fact, in one story Lillian Gish is contrasted as a silent-film star to Dietrich and Garbo.  There's a mention or two of Clara Bow, which is more mid-'20s than early '30s but less dated than Gish.


While Wodehouse in his charming introduction recommends reading just three or four of these stories a day, I of course powered through the 600+ pages, and I do think of this collection as having one chronology, although admittedly muddled.  Based on textual clues, here's what I think:


Several of the early stories take place in the same year and even have references to the month, or at least season.  "The Great Sermon Handicap" happens on Sunday, 23 August, while "The Metropolitan Touch" has Bingo's play on Friday, 23 December.  Since it's impossible for one calendar to contain both dates, I'm weighing the latter as more because the twins might be confused about when Sunday is but Bingo has to put out publicity for his play.  23 December fell on a Friday twice in the 1920s-- 1921 and 1927.  Neither date is entirely satisfactory, but I'm going with the latter.


Summer 1926, "Jeeves Takes Charge"
Late April or early May of 1927, "Jeeves in the Springtime"
May or June, "Scoring off Jeeves"
Early summer, "Sir Roderick Comes to Lunch" and "Aunt Agatha Takes the Count"
July, "Comrade Bingo"
August, "The Great Sermon Handicap"
Early September, "The Purity of the Turf"
November and December, "The Metropolitan Touch"
Perhaps late October of 1928, since it's nearly 18 months since "Jeeves in the Springtime," we get the end of Bingo constantly falling in love, as he gets married in "Bingo and the Little Woman."


Not too long after that, we have "Clustering Round Young Bingo," and then "Jeeves and the Impending Doom" sometime after.  Let's say late '28, early '29 tentatively for at least the first of these.  "The Delayed Exit of Claude and Eustace" can't occur too much after "Sir Roderick Comes to Lunch," since Claude and Eustace are sent down from college, and they're about four years younger than Bertie.  Our hero by the way is 24 in "Jeeves Takes Charge," since it's nine years since he was 15.


The stories set in the U.S. have to be bunged in somewhere, so let's say 1929 and '30.  "The Artistic Career of Corky" covers at least a year, and some of the other American adventures could've happened then.


Let's say Bertie returns to England in 1930.  "Without the Option" is supposed to be one year before "The Inferiority Complex of Old Sippy."  And then at the beginning of August, we get "The Love that Purifies" (with all the schoolboy crushes on actresses), this story being the summer after "Impending Doom."  So perhaps "Impending Doom" takes place a couple years after "Clustering Round."


1928 "Clustering Round"
1929 and 1930 American adventures (with a reference to Calvin Coolidge, so it can't be before '23)
1930 "Without the Option" and "Jeeves and the Impending Doom"
1931 "The Inferiority Complex of Old Sippy" and "The Love That Purifies"

Meanwhile, we're introduced to Tuppy Glossop and Bobbie Wickham in "Jeeves and the Yule-Tide Spirit."  Let's say Christmas of 1930.  Months later (1931), comes "Jeeves and the Song of Songs."  Another Yuletide tale is "The Ordeal of Young Tuppy," which refers to Tuesday the 17th, of either November or December.  There is a Tuesday, 17 November for 1931, so that works.

"The Episode of the Dog McIntosh" takes place not only after the American sequence but after "Yule-Tide Spirit," again possibly 1931.  "Jeeves and the Kid Clementina" also happens after "Yule-Tide Spirit," and after the Jeeves-narrated "Bertie Changes His Mind."  It can also be chucked into 1931.

Confusingly, "Jeeves and the Greasy Bird" is set at Christmas one year after the novel Thank You, Jeeves, which came out in 1934.  But this story was written in '66.  ("Jeeves Makes an Omelette" is from '59.)  For now, we'll tentatively say '35 for setting.

"Jeeves and the Old School Chum" takes place in the autumn, a few years after "Clustering Round Bingo," so it could be as early as '31.

There are a few stray stories that don't refer to season or year, but this covers most of the collection.  So, for the most part this book is set 1926 to '31.

Now that that's out of the way, yes, I've read this book a lot.  I discovered Wodehouse in my early 20s, and not long after that, I saw the delightful Fry & Laurie adaptations of Jeeves and Wooster.  (Not 100% faithful in regards to plotting or casting, but faithful to the spirit.)  Wodehouse tells of how reluctant he was to "sell his soul for gold," which made "a blush mantle his cheek" when he "took typewriter in hand" to update his introduction in 1967.  By then he had allowed film and television versions, and "today I should not object very strongly if somebody wanted to do Jeeves on Ice."


If I may state the obvious, Wodehouse is funny.  Born in 1881, he was a young man when Queen Victoria died and, in a different way than E. M. Forster, he gently mocks Victorianism.  In particular, he's got a gift for deflating literary cliches, including cross-pollinating them with then-modern slang.  He lived until 1975 but had long before become frozen in time.  (To get a sense of this span, think of how he ruined one of W.S. Gilbert's jokes at a dinner party, and a young Stephen Fry wrote him a fan letter.)  It's odd to think that this collection came out the year he turned 50, but for Jeeves, as Wodehouse observed in '67, "it would be difficult to think of an end that was less yetter."


It's difficult to see this book in isolation, and I want to give it a higher grade, but that's the problem with frequent readings.  I don't laugh out loud anymore.  I admire certain phrases but I'm long familiar with them.  I don't have any favorite stories, since they all seem about on a level.  I will note that, as with Austen, there are characters that would be annoying in real life but are amusing in print.  (Something Wodehouse didn't manage in If I Were You.)  Interestingly, it's the people that Bertie likes best, like his Aunt Dahlia and some of his friends, that cause him the most trouble.  He thinks Dahlia is much better than Agatha, but she's constantly insulting his intelligence and giving him difficult tasks.  And I don't know why he puts up with Bingo and Tuppy, although it is entertaining to the reader.

Back on the subject of chronology (sorry), it's unclear how long he's known either Bingo or Tuppy.  He claims that he and Bingo were born in the same village within a few days of each other and grew up together, and yet at one point he says they've been friends for 15 years.  Similarly, either he's befriended Tuppy Glossop recently, despite the latter being the nephew of the dreaded Sir Roderick Glossop, or he went to school with Tuppy.  The novels don't exactly clear this up.

If I Were You

1931, 1989 International Polygonics edition
P. G. Wodehouse
If I Were You
Bought newish for $7.95
Slightly worn paperback
C+

In general, I don't care as much for the non-Wooster works of Wodehouse.  The characters tend to be less appealing, and the stories lack Bertie's unique narrative style.  Here, none of the characters held my interest or support.  As the introduction by D. R. Bensen notes, there are two "Deplorable Duos" among the cast, but I didn't find them enjoyably dreadful, and the same goes for Freddie, Slingsby the butler, and Meech the barber.  As for the romantic couple, they seem to confuse him carrying her around the room for wooing.  Also, I know it's just comedy and not a politico-psychological treatise, but I would've liked to have seen how Sid's "socialism" impacted his attitude to his (temporary) elevation to earldom.  Furthermore, the novel reads like a novelisation of a stageplay, with three scenes and a lot of entrances and exits.

I do think that the cover illustration, by Tim Raglin, is perfect, with Sid sizing up a portrait of a medieval ancestor, who in turn looks stunned by this descendant.  And I actually found the parts about barbering interesting.  As for the rest, it's not terrible, but it's definitely not a "lost classic."

Friday, May 4, 2012

The Murder at Hazelmoor

1931, 1984 Berkley [sic] Books edition
Agatha Christie
The Murder at Hazelmoor
Original price $2.95, bought used for $2.75 (one of the worst "bargains" so far)
Worn paperback
C+

As with Unnatural Death, I think I've only read this once before.  In fact, it was just in the last five years that I thought I should read Agatha Christie, but didn't get drawn in.  This is actually a weaker book than the Sayers's mystery.  There are too many detectives and the murderer feels random.  Also, I didn't think much of the main romance, or the decoy romance.  On the plus side, the setting is reasonably well done, and I like the Ouija-like board-tapping scenes.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Is Sex Necessary?: Why You Feel the Way You Do

1929, 1944 Blue Ribbon Books edition
James Thurber and E. B. White
Is Sex Necessary?: Why You Feel the Way You Do
Original price unknown, bought used for $4.00
Worn hardcover
B+

Still laugh-out-loud funny after all these years, from the opening of the Foreword onward:  "During the past year two factors in our civilization have been greatly overemphasized. One is aviation, the other is sex. Looked at calmly, neither diversion is entitled to the space it has been accorded."  I'm not sure if this book was written entirely by White, or if Thurber had a hand in the text as well as the typically odd illustrations.  Both men were already on the staff of The New Yorker, and this is definitely a very 1920s New-York-intellectual-humorist sort of book.


I'm using the "nonfiction" label*, although you won't learn whether sex is necessary, or much else from this parody of sexology.  It's definitely written for men, with women alternately too mysterious and too frank, as in the discussion of feminine types.  (It turns out that you don't have to watch the Quiet Ones.)  The "What Should Children Tell Parents" chapter could well have been written in the 1960s, but generally this is the product of the earlier sexual revolution.  It's not at all an explicit book.  It's sort of talking about talking about sex, rather than just talking about sex.  The scene where a bride, whose mumsy taught her that she'd have a three-year-old son if her husband "brought a pair of bluebirds into a room filled with lilies-of-the-valley," finally stops being coy and blurts out, "Sex-- if you want to know!", is about as direct as it gets.  And at that, his attempt to enlighten her doesn't get any further than him saying that women are "that way," meaning "the way you are...from me...that I am, I mean."


The authors are just as vague.  And that's where much of the humor comes from.  It's also funny how they give the history of sports and leisure, as alternatives to sex.  The glossary includes some of the best lines from the text, such as "loving" meaning "being confused by, or confusing some one."  It is odd to run into "Swastika" as something that men doodle, particularly considering the timing of this edition, but the world had changed a great deal in those intervening 15 years.


I'm not really sure what to say about Thurber's illustrations, beyond most of the people look either irritated or confused (understandable according to the text), and some of the pictures are almost abstract, just a few wavy lines.


This is a nice way to wrap up the 1920s.  I don't have any book for 1930, not even an Oz book, since I'm missing a couple Thompsons.  But 1931 will make up for this.

*Since changed to "humor."

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Jack Pumpkinhead of Oz

1929, undated (see below) Reilly & Lee edition
Ruth Plumly Thompson
Illustrated by John R. Neill
Jack Pumpkinhead of Oz
Original price unknown, bought used for $20.00
Poor condition paperback, with broken spine, tears, and stains
B-

Peter returns from Philadelphia via a magic coin in his sack of pirate gold.  (Thompson by the way, in her introduction, lists her full West Philly address.  So here you go: RPT house  .)  Presumably two years have passed since Gnome King, although Peter's age isn't mentioned.  He again gets to be more heroic than Bob Up of Cowardly Lion, although Jack has his part to play in saving the day.

I like the setting of the red mountain baronies, including Baffleburg.  Baron Mogodore is a pretty good villain.  It is creepy, perhaps more creepy than intended, that this cruel, ugly, middle-aged man wants to marry teenaged princesses Shirley Sunshine and Ozma.  (Check out the two-page illustration of Mogodore leering at bound Ozma, pp. 216-17.)  Shirley is drawn as a more traditional-looking lady than Ozma, and it's interesting to compare the picture on p. 230 of them clasping hands with that on p. 207 of Road, where Ozma meets Polychrome.  Both times Ozma has an expression like "Yes, you are lovely, My Dear, but I am the most beautiful girl in the world," while the other girls humbly agree.

I could've done without yet another rhyming character.  Yes, Baum would include poems and songs, but Thompson overdoes it.  At least this time the poet is an Iffin, a Griffin without the Gr.  I also have to note that I think this might be the first time that Thompson doesn't use her annoying "Don't you care," meaning roughly "Don't worry, be happy."

The typos are worse, the innuendo less, than usual.  And this line would have different connotations four decades later:  "'I am the King and the highest Swinger here.'"


The list of "The Famous Oz Books" confusingly only goes up to Grampa in Oz (1924).  So I'm not sure on the date of this copy.  It's probably not a first edition, since there are no color plates.  It could be a 1935 second edition, but it's in such terrible shape I probably won't keep it.