the return of the blogger

I am back... and, I think, sort of kind of committed to seriously starting to blog again.

The last couple of years I have been so WOUND UP in my job that I couldn't bring myself to blog. I couldn't even bring myself to read, which made it difficult to write a blog about reading.

I had the privilege of taking almost six weeks off work and travelling to Europe over Christmas and the New Year.  Besides getting to be in Europe, almost six weeks away became an opportunity to reassess things, and I have decided that I am not happy with the idea of:

- giving up reading
- giving up writing about reading
- giving up writing, or only writing if it's the soulless function-driven communications of a policy advisor writing to politicians and bureaucrats.

Dammit, I want to have fun again.

So this year is a year of change.  I am slowly learning to say NO more.  It also helps that late last year my friends and I started a book club.  We are firmly resolved to read only books that are fun - i.e., not only to be read because we think they will be good for us.  It has been a successful practice so far.  And having six weeks to travel, thereby sitting in a progression of trains, planes and transit lounges, is a real boost when it comes to re-developing a thirst for literature.

I feel like I have lost my ability to write creatively.  I used to have a nose for stories and I have lost it entirely.  But I suspect that if I start properly reading again - and properly writing about reading - I may just regain my confidence too.

So hello, blogosphere.  I am back (I hope).  I think I will be here regularly - how often that is, I'm not sure.  But I feel optimistic that this blog is not over yet.

valueless books

A life being short, and the quiet hours of it few, we ought to waste none of them in reading valueless books. - John Ruskin

I've been thinking about this quote with a sense of an inexorable fate awaiting me, in books that will turn out to be a complete waste of time. As a fiction editor for an online 'zine, this extends not only to books but to a number of interminable submissions which one reads out of a sense of duty although it's obvious from the beginning that they are terrible.* And then it is the modern world, and we are bombarded with constant information, titillating linkage, and the means for procrastination. It's inevitable.

I have, however, made up my mind to change at least one of my ways, because I think John Ruskin, whoever he is, is right. There is so much that should be read out there, and even more that should be ignored. And life is short. And we should be discerning.

So from now on, I will not follow one of my oldest rules. No more will I struggle my way through novels which I hate from very early on, simply because there is some perceived merit in not 'quitting'. As a wizened old 24 year old, I have come to realise that Time is running out!!

This thinking partly comes from a weekend away on a church camp. Now, I am aware that most of the people who find their way to this blog post will probably not be Christians. All the same, I think that a Bible verse that has dug itself into my head over the last week will probably resound with people of many different faiths or lack thereof. It is this verse:

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.
Philippians 4:8

It's an instruction that subverts instruction itself, and I rather like it. The writer (Paul) refuses to set hard-and-fast rules about how we should spend our time, and he doesn't approve of turning pleasure into moralism - and yet, he recognises, much like John Ruskin, that time is limited and that we have choices to make.**

I've been wondering how I can apply these thoughts to this blog and my choice to review books. Generally what happens is this: I receive monthly newsletters from a couple of publishing companies, and I can email a few contacts and ask for a few books off each list. Up until now, my choices have been based on what I think I should be reviewing. From now on, I think my choices will be based on pure enjoyment and/or interest. I've reviewed a few books that were so disappointing that I really felt like I had scored negative points on the Is Your Life Worthwhile test. And the feeling was even more vivid after I finished the fantastic novel Russian Winter recently and felt utterly depressed about picking up any book that was less satisfying.

So... my reviews may lessen. But I will enjoy them more. I hope.


* I would just like to say that this does not apply to the majority of the submissions we receive, thank goodness.
** Disclaimer: I do not think that the writer is saying that we should ignore everything that is hard or sad or horrible in the world.

damsels in distress and manipulative women

It's no surprise to learn that there is a gender bias in children's literature, even if it's reported in Medical News Today as a 'new finding'. Here's an article from 1976 on the same subject.

It's a concerning issue, because children don't necessarily have the defences adults build up against any old idea. I don't mean to say they have no judgment at all because in my experience it's surprising how much children are able to judge ideas and see through bad ones. (And of course it's also surprising how many adults are completely incapable of judging ideas and seeing through bad ones!)

All the same, there is quite a lot of truth in the following statement (quoted in this article): "Everything we read ... constructs us, makes us who we are." It's one of the great strengths of literature. Literature opens our eyes to see what it's like in someone else's head. I think it's a fundamental part of learning empathy. But I do believe that it's also one of the dangers of literature. Children assume that what they read is how the world is, or even worse, how the world should be. Just as a teenage girl watching movies, TV and reading magazines might be overwhelmed with the message that she isn't pretty, skinny or cool enough. Or just as an adult music fan in the 21st century might look at mainstream bands and assume that women are allowed to sing and look attractive but they can't be very good at drums or guitar. It's the messages that come to us subliminally that are hardest to shake.

I don't see this as always a feminist issue, or a political correctness issue. Many of the subliminal messages of literature would be rejected by feminists and non-feminists alike. Even the modern anti-feminist movement would look askance at some of the lessons taught by fairy tales - The Princess and the Pea, for example, seems to teach that there is an actual physical difference between royalty and commoners and that, if you're not a 'real' princess, you're simply not special enough. I also seriously doubt that anti-feminists would agree with the message that women who attain power or influence in the real world are automatically cruel or manipulative and that they always corrupt and emasculate men (i.e. Hansel and Gretel's stepmother, Cinderella's stepmother, every single stepmother ever known to fairy lore). And I don't think they would agree that a girl must be radiantly beautiful in order to be worthy of love.

So - we should think very carefully about these issues (especially if we have children or are in charge of children). And yet I feel strongly against the rabid censorship of literature. I hesitate against throwing away old, well-told, legendary stories simply because they feature characters or ideas we see as less modern or less progressive. Firstly, children should be allowed to understand their culture and their past. Also, if feminism really is about equality and diversity, we as feminists should allow that some stories will have boys as heroes and that in some stories women will come across as weak. It's a reality of everyday life that there are different types of personalities among both genders. All we ask is that there is a more even spread. It would be nice to see more:
- heroes who are girls and do cool things. For example - Jane and the Dragon. Matilda. The Ordinary Princess. And so on.
- Groups of formerly male-dominated character types who have got more than the one 'token' female in them.
- Powerful or intelligent women who aren't villainous or manipulative.

I've always wanted to write a children's book one day. These are things that I will be mulling over. For now, though, I have a question for those of you who have kids or who look after kids on a regular basis. Does this kind of thing trouble you at all? How do you make sure your kids are learning that the lessons you want them to learn?

the science of storytelling

I love this: the periodic table of storytelling. Check it out. It's hilarious to see all the "elements" of stories laid out "scientifically". I feel like making it into a poster!

It reminds me slightly of Jasper Fforde's The Well of Lost Plots, in which his main character, Thursday Next, discovers the great libraries of the Book World and its underworld dealing in clichés, plot devices and original ideas as literal currency.

meaningful

In 2007, I wrote a blog post about five books that were meaningful to me. Some have changed. Some remain the same. I want to have a re-run because I like making lists and analysing myself. That's honesty for you.

Before:
1. The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald
2. Persuasion, by Jane Austen
3. The short stories of Katherine Mansfield
4. The short stories of Roald Dahl
5. The Ordinary Princess, by M. M. Kaye

The funny thing is, things have changed.

Some things remain the same. Jane Austen retains her position at the head. I just can't decide which particular book I'm going to honour, and I'm not sure if I need to. I love her. I can't explain why. The closest I can come is an explanation which I have used before. Here it is again. When I read Jane Austen's novels, I feel like I can sense her, the narrator, sitting just behind the text and enjoying what she is writing. It's as if she is living on in her writing. I never get the same feeling with other authors. Her perspective is so unique. I love that at first glance her novels seem like just another rom-com, but in fact they are so much more. She shows so much more restraint than any other author I have read. She had no pretensions. She was just interested in people, and she wrote about them. I am absolutely sure that she herself was as charming and interesting as her heroines.

A small anecdote: When I was exploring the National Portrait Gallery in London, I bumped into the tiny miniature of her, almost by accident, I almost burst into tears. The fact that the only existing picture of her was this tiny little miniature, surrounded by all this grandeur, these kings and leaders and their pride, seemed to sum up everything I love about her. Does anyone understand what I'm going on about here or is this completely oblique?

Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Brontë, is connected in some ways with the reasons I love Jane Austen. CB herself did not think much of Austen's work, but in a century of male authors writing about either frail little women who need a hero or villainous temptresses, I love the strong women they wrote about. Jane Eyre is one of the most wonderful characters of literature, for me.

Animal Farm, by George Orwell, is another book that is meaningful for me now. I thought about this when I wrote a blog post a while ago on retracing my steps - and I've realised that reading Animal Farm in fifth form English at school was a huge turning point for me, even if I didn't realise it at the time. It was where I was first intrigued by the bizarre, depressing history of Communism in Russia. It turns out I was lucky to get my first glimpse through Orwell's perceptive eyes, as so much has been said about the Soviet Union which is horrifically tainted - and the fact that is an allegory of sorts, and not even a perfect one, possibly helped.

Winter of Fire, by Sherryl Jordan, makes the list now. This is a YA novel by a Kiwi author which we were told to read in school when I was 12, because the author was coming to visit. It turned out to be a fantastic book, and I met my first real live author. I managed to impress her, somehow, with my hand-raising-and-question-asking technique, and when my teacher told her later that I wanted to be an author when I grew up, she wrote me a little card encouraging me to follow this dream. I've always been grateful to her for this, and it had a huge impact on me. So her book has a special place in my heart.

I will always love C. S. Lewis' Narnia Chronicles.

And, finally, The Ordinary Princess, by M. M. Kaye, still makes the cut. I have tried to introduce my nieces to this book, because at this stage they are still buying into the Disney perfect-happy-ever-after, you-must-be-beautiful-and-enjoy-cleaning princess stories. So far, I have only received agitated questions: "But when are they going to get married?!" I persevere regardless.

It's not that the other books are no longer meaningful to me. They don't live in my consciousness in quite the same way, though.

catching up with modernity

For the last few years, I have slightly disapproved of the rise of the e-book.

I had a list of reasons for this:
i. Books are pretty. On a shelf, they add colour to a room.
ii. Books last. There's something nice about this. You can get an author to sign your book, you can sell first editions at ridiculously huge prices further down the line, you can write your own messages in the cover, you can buy secondhand books.
iii. There's something about the feeling of a book in your hand that I would be sad to lose.
iv. Books aren't hard on your eyes like screens can be.
v. I am secretly quite reactionary.

This week, however, I've been in the process of swapping rooms with one of my flatmates. I was at the west end of the house, now I am at the east. The process is still not over. And the process has shown me that I have a ridiculously huge bookshelf.


It's quite light for its size but, once turned on its side, it's extremely difficult to manoeuvre, and you start to notice how BIG it is. It is also full of books. They are currently cluttering up our lounge AND an empty bedroom, along with all the books I don't have room for in my bookcase so have stored in cardboard boxes. It wasn't until I had to physically carry them around with me that I realised how many books I do have.

Kindles, iPads, etc. - looking much more attractive right now!

lessons I have learned

A few years ago, I blogged about the lessons I have learned from literature, over the years. I was reminded of this recently when a blogging friend, Stacy, re-posted her own version of this meme, and so I thought I'd have another go at this for your edification. These are valuable life lessons, after all. (Some are repeats of last time, most are new. Some contain spoilers):

If something seems too good to be true, distrust it. It is probably run by the Mafia.
John Grisham, The Firm.

If you see your lover holding a baby, do not assume that she went and got pregnant to someone else while you were unavoidably detained. Before you disappear for another forty-odd years, just ask if the baby is hers.
Louis de Bernières, Captain Corelli's Mandolin.

If you are in dire, inescapable financial trouble that could ruin your marriage: dance the tarantella.
Henrik Ibsen, The Doll's House.

In her own words – “I leave it to be settled, by whomsoever it may concern, whether the tendency of this work be altogether to recommend parental tyranny, or reward filial disobedience.”
Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey.

Avoid listening to men who tell you spellbinding stories. You will fall in love with them, and then they will probably murder you or drive you to suicide.
Virgil, The Aeneid, and Shakespeare, Othello.

You may, one day, come across a woman sleeping in a room full of garlic with the windows bolted. As stuffy and uncomfortable as this may appear, do not try to help her by airing out the room.
Bram Stoker, Dracula.

Never marry someone without checking up on their family mental history.
Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre.

The best way to get rid of writer's block is to get someone to lock you in a tower.
Dodie Smith, I Capture the Castle.

If you want a man to fall in love with you and/or want to marry you, be completely helpless and fragile. A fortune wouldn’t go astray, either.
Wilkie Collins, The Woman in White. (To be fair, this is also the lesson of most 19th century novels authored by men.)

If a man smokes cigars, don’t trust him – even if he started out okay. He does not want women to subvert society’s expectations.
Kate Chopin, The Awakening.

Even if it appears to everyone that the good guy has been pushed off a cliff by his nemesis, he is probably still alive somewhere, biding his time.
Arthur Conan Doyle, Sherlock Holmes.

In a similar vein – Never assume the good guy is dead, unless you have actually seen his body.
Homer, The Odyssey.

Scratch that - even if you have seen the body, never assume the good guy is dead.
J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

Avoid flying places. Especially with small boys.
William Golding, Lord of the Flies.

the armchair

Welcome to my armchair. My virtual armchair, you could say.

This is my real armchair:


It is not beautiful except in my own eyes. But from its Allie-shaped confines, I plan to read read read. Who knows? I may even write from it.

I hope you will enjoy this, my blog, in which I will be plotting my course through the books of the world and their bookology. I coined the term myself, only to find later that others were before me. Well, I say, let's pretend they weren't. For now, bookology is exactly what I discover it to be.

I don't intend this to be a very tightly-conceived blog. It will be full of reviews, reviews of a motley crew of authors, basically whatever I can get my hands on for free or for very little. So if I review the next Tolstoy one week, don't be surprised if the very next week I am reading Ann M. Martin's latest addition to the Babysitters Club. (I am extremely unlikely to be reviewing anything Ann M. Martin has written, although her books dominated a few years of my childhood. But I don't want to rule anything out.) Expect the unexpected.