Diminished
Background:
The Take A Change Challenge is due to end 30th November, and I still have three challenges to complete. I’m half way through one of the books, and did start the second one, but put it on hold.
Anyway, Challenge#8 (aka Lit Riff) says:
Choose a song and then write a brief story that is inspired by or further explains the lyrics of the song.
It took me absolutely ages to decide on a song, and I’ve gone through about three drafts, before I was happy with my selection. It’s a bleak song, called Diminished, by one of my favourite bands: REM.
It’s not one of their more popular songs. In fact, I couldn’t even find a youtube video of the band singing it. There were some covers, but, I really don’t do covers! So, anyway, here’s me lit-riffing, and crossing off another of the ten challenges that make up this incredible challenge.
She closed her eyes, and leaned back on her seat, wondering how to play it. She knew she was going to be called on to the witness stand any second now, and she didn’t have a plan. Absolutely nothing. And she had told her lawyer that she had it all covered; but, she just couldn’t remember what happened that fateful rainy night, try as she might… It was almost like it had been permanently erased from her memory, and there was no backup. The lawyer had tried to prepare her. He’d asked her questions. Questions she was unable to answer. Had they argued that night? What was the argument about? Had she pushed him?
She remembered the argument. Oh, it was so silly. It was actually about orange juice without bits. So insignificant. How on earth had it resulted in something like this? Had she…, she gulped. Could she have…. Did she… push him? She shook her head immediately. There was no way she would’ve…. she had never even hurt a fly!
It was the not remembering, that really scared her. That had made her not listen to her legal advisor. He had advised her to plead guilty by reason of insanity. She had rolled her eyes then, but now, seconds before she was going to be crucified on the stand, she wondered if it was completely implausible. Maybe she should just plead guilty…
“What’s the precedent on this kind of a thing?” she whispered to her lawyer.
He looked at her, exasperated. “You don’t want to know,” he replied, and looking at her pale tormented face, felt a pang. Whoever said lawyers don’t have feelings? “Just… try and charm the jury. Think it’s in your favour.”
She looked at him, and sighed for what seemed to be the nth time, wringing her hands together. She heard her name being called, and the lawyer nudging her to approach the bench. She glanced at the jury, and saw the poker faces staring back at her. She averted her eyes immediately, and felt a single tear roll down her cheek.
“Baby, I loved you. Baby, I loved you. Baby, I…” she whispered, taking her place, and putting her hand atop the Holy Book, almost mechanically. “Okay, I’m going to do my best today. I’m going to do it right. Please god, give me the courage,” she said to herself, as she looked around her, seeing the unfamiliar faces; some friendly, some downright hostile.
She crumpled to the floor, before they could even ask her to confirm her name. A broken soul. Everyone could hear her loud gasps for air, as she cried uncontrollably. “Baby, baby, I’m finished…”
She glanced up, and saw the jury’s poker faces transform into looks of sympathy. The hostile glances in the audience had decreased significantly. In fact, some of those faces actually reflected concern. Even the aggressive prosecutor looked embarrassed at questioning the young girl.
She smiled a secret invisible smile to herself. She had played her part perfectly.
Filed under: Another Cookie Crumbles Takes On Writing | Leave a Comment
Tags: R.E.M.
Susan Hill – The Beacon
Background:
I ended up picking this book for the Take A Chance Challenge#5. You might have noticed that in my original book selection, I had opted for Mary Higgins Clark’s Just Take My Heart. However, that book is not out in paperback yet, so… I went back to the phone book and found the name “Hill”.
With Howard’s End Is On The Landing out recently, and loads of bloggers reviewing it, I figured Susan Hill was the sensible choice! And so, here it is… Susan Hill’s The Beacon. Just for the record, this is the first Susan Hill I’ve read….
The book opens with Mrs. Prime’s peaceful death at The Beacon, where she lives with one of her children, May. Two of the others have married locally, and quiet, almost reticent Frank lives in London. May had gone to London to study to escape from the bleak country-life, but, hallucinations and nightmares drove her to return to the safety of home within the year.
While May is contemplating making the call to her siblings, she tries to figure out if she should call Frank – Frank who betrayed the entire family, and who they haven’t spoken to since. This leads to retrospection: looking back at how events unfolded, and the impact it had on the family as a whole.
Mostly written in May’s voice, this book does explore a very interesting topic. Frank’s ultimate betrayal is writing a book in first person, entitled The Story Of One Boy’s Brutal Childhood, where he talks of his life in the “cupboard under the stairs” (very Harry Potter-like), and the abuse he suffered at the hands of his older siblings and father. However, as the other children (now adults) remember it, this is mere fabrication, and none of it ever happened. However, as they live in a small village in Ireland, the family name has been tarnished, and it’s almost impossible for them to vindicate themselves. Also, a doubt has formed in everyone’s mind, and the siblings themselves cannot determine what’s the truth, and what they have deleted from their memories.
While the premise is interesting, i.e. how a memoir like Frank’s victimises the family, the book in itself fell flat. It started off being interesting, but as it progressed, it left a lot to be desired… specially the ending, which was at best ambiguous. Based on this, I don’t think I’ll be seeking out more of Susan Hill’s works.
Rating: 2.5
Filed under: General Fiction, Review, Susan Hill | 12 Comments
Tags: Susan Hill
Image sourced from Churchill JCR
Happy Halloween, everyone! What have you been doing this Halloween? Watching scary movies? Reading scary books? Trickin’ & treatin’? Or, hiding under the covers?
Me – well, I’ve almost ignored Halloween completely, barring the couple of hours of TV that I indulged myself in. I meant to read Shirley Jackson’s We Have Always Lived In The Castle, or, Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book. However, I didn’t end up doing either (I have a valid excuse: I don’t have either of the books), and that pretty much seems to sum up my October.
I’m not one of those people who blogs daily. I don’t feel compelled to, and I don’t want to put myself under that kind of stress (I get stressed very easily). This is supposed to be a fun thing, right? However, I’m quite shocked about how little I’ve blogged this month (just the nine posts, excluding this one), and almost embarrassed.
Even my reading stats have been worse than usual this month, with me only finishing five books. To be honest, when I was home, I indulged myself in “comfort reading,” including many Roald Dahls, and both, the St. Clares and Malory Towers series. It was a welcome change, and I enjoyed that for a week or so. Being ill, and suffering from god-knows-what didn’t really help either.
Anyway… I did read some amazing books this month, with my favourite being a toss-up between Rebecca and I Capture The Castle. How are you supposed to choose one of those books over the other?
I do have some extensive reading plans for November, including:
Of course, as most things, nothing will go according to plan, and you probably won’t see anything on any of these books for the next few months (barring Susan Hill’s The Beacon, and that’s only because I’m half-way through that book).
Anyway, as I do feel slightly guilty about a very quiet October, I promise I’ll try my best to make it up in November…… wish me luck!
Filed under: Random Musings | 24 Comments
I absolutely loved The Shadow Of The Wind when I read it back in April, with its glimpse into old Barcelona, fantastic story-telling and hyperbolism extraordinaire. When The Angel’s Game hit the stores a few months back, I picked it out almost greedily, and stacked it on my bookshelf, waiting for the “right” time to pull it out, and lose myself in the magical world of Zafón’s writing.
The Angel’s Game takes us back to old Barcelona, towards the end of World War I, through the eyes of David Martin, an aspiring writer. The opening lines set the mood for the book:
A writer never forgets the first time he accepts a few coins or a word of praise in exchange for a story. He will never forget the sweet poison of vanity in his blood, and the belief that, if he succeeds in not letting anyone discover his lack of talent, the dream of literature will provide him with a roof over his head, a hot meal at the end of the day, and what he covets most: his name printed on a miserable piece of paper that surely will outlive him. A writer is condemned to remember that moment, because from then on he is doomed and his soul has a price.
The narrator starts off as a sensationalist story-writer; his thrillers are first published weekly in a newspaper, and he goes on to assume a pseudonym, to write a monthly series of books entitled City of the Damned. While his stories were well-received, David’s attempt at a serious novel met with bad reviews, and a combination of disappointment and enticement led him to make a deal with the devil himself : Andreas Corelli, a Parisian publisher, who offers David a small fortune, in return for David writing him an epic book, a book that would create a brand new religion, to which Corelli would play god (or, in this case, the devil).
David inadvertently gets sucked into Corelli’s game, digging up secrets from years gone by, witnessing murders, being a subject of police investigations, and almost living a life that existed in his series, City of the Damned. His best friend marries his lover, an adolescent moves in with him in order to find a writing mentor, and subsequently turning his life upside down, and his residence, a creepy tower in the sinister dark side of the city, holds infinite mysteries of its own.
The book also takes us back to the Cemetery Of Forgotten Books, an incredible concept that Zafón introduced in his debut novel, and it sounds equally fantastic. This time, David goes there to hide a book, and is subject to the same rules as Daniel was in The Shadow Of The Wind.
However, that’s where the similarity ends. The book has some great characters, with Isabella (the adolescent who seeks David out to be her mentor) being a personal favourite, but the story was disjointed, and had way too many bizarre things happening, leading to a disappointing ending, where the loose ends remain untied. The book started promisingly, and is quite fast-paced, but in my opinion, it’s at the expense of things not being explained coherently, or the writing being rushed.
Zafón’s a talented writer, and there are phrases and sentences that leapt off the page and made me chuckle, or nod in agreement. Like his protagonist, he seems to be a sensationalist writer, enjoying the luxury of hyperboles and scandal. In fact, in parts the book, I thought that some of David’s experiences were first hand accounts – the way David is treated by his publishers, the art of procrastination, and the way of research.
It’s unfortunate, so, that his second book didn’t live up to all the hype that the first book had created.
Rating: 2.5
Filed under: Carlos Ruiz Zafon, General Fiction, Magical Realism, Review | 7 Comments
Tags: Carlos Ruiz Zafón, Spain
Dodie Smith’s I Capture The Castle is another one of those books with a fantastic opening line, which makes the reader want more:
I write this sitting in the kitchen sink. That is, my feet are in it; the rest of me is on the draining board, which I have padded with our dog’s blanket and the tea-cosy.
An enchanting narrator, seventeen year old Cassandra (described as Jane Eyre with a touch of Becky Sharp), attempts to capture eight of the months of her stay at the castle, in three journals: the six penny book, the shilling book, and the two guinea book.
Poverty-striken, with barely any new income coming in, the family is trying to figure out the best way to make ends meet. All the antiques have been sold, and the castle is but bare now. Cassandra’s father, also a writer, hasn’t been able to work since he was in prison for three months, and the money coming in from the successes of his first book is now nil. His second wife, Topaz, occasionally poses nude for artists to earn money, but even that isn’t much for she has to live in London during these jobs, and living there is expensive. Cassandra’s older sister, Rose, is bitter and disgruntled with the state of affairs, and contemplates working the streets in order to make some quick money; whereas Thomas is still going to school and giving a helping hand around at home. Finally, there’s young Stephen, the son of their now deceased househelp, who is completely enamoured by Cassandra, despite the fact that it seems to be unrequited.
When Simon and Neil Cotton, the inheritors of the castle, which the family has leased, come into their lives one day, Cassandra focuses on getting Rose and Simon together, in order to improve the quality of Rose’s life, and see her happier. However, what transpires is heart-wrenching, as the seventeen year old realises that love is complicated, and somehow, things don’t always turn out as one intends them to.
Cassandra is a lovely and fascinating narrator, and her writing is full of literary and musical references, be it Lord Fauntleroy, or Debussy. Hidden throughout the book are loads of Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte references, and one of my favourite parts of the book read:
“I thought of the beginning of Pride and Prejudice – where Mrs. Bennett says ‘Netherfield Park is let at last’. And then Mr. Bennett goes to call on the rich new owner.”
“Mr. Bennett didn’t owe him any rent,” I said.
“Father wouldn’t go anyway. How I wish I lived in a Jane Austen novel!”
I said I’d rather be in a Charlotte Bronte.
“Which would be nicest – Jane with a touch of Charlotte, or Charlotte with a touch of Jane?”
There are even art references, and I was quite surprised by a surrealist Dali reference. These references added to the book, and I found myself being fascinated as I was surrounded by intelligent well-read characters, and not girls who are looking to sit pretty and not do much else.
The emotions are also portrayed beautifully, and the honesty the journals portray are heartwarming. She comes across as a conscientious child, innocent and “consciously naive”, and when she acts impulsively, her guilt and self-criticism begs for sympathy.
The one “captured” character, though, that I just didn’t understand, was the father. He turned a blind eye to the problems of the castle, where his children were dressed in torn worn-out clothes, and there was barely any food at home. Even when Stephen, someone who “worked” for the family without taking any wages, offered to get a job and contribute to the household expenditures, the father carried on as though everything was right as rain. Some of the other characters were convinced that he needed psychological help, whereas others labeled him a genius.
I loved this book to bits, and thought it was a wonderful story, from the perspective of a very charming seventeen year old. The characters are incredible, the story touching, and the turn of events mind-boggling and wistful. And the book didn’t have a typical ending, which endeared me to it further.
Rating: 4
Filed under: BBC's Big Read {Best Loved Novel}, Coming of Age, Dodie Smith, Review, Virago Modern Classics | 14 Comments
Tags: Dodie Smith
Meme Time
I’m having a really poor October, with respect to blogging. It’s almost embarrassing, but, believe it or not, I’m still ill, despite finishing two courses of antibiotics. Being at home has helped some – at least I get Mum’s cooking, and read my childhood favorites – but, I’m still feeling really awful. :(
Anyway, I stumbled upon this meme on The Boston Bibliophile’s blog, and figured it might be fun to give it a lash. Here goes…
1. What author do you own the most books by?
Ah, this is easy. Enid Blyton. I have all of the Famous Fives, Five Find Outers, Secret Sevens, Malory Towers, St. Clares, The Naughtiest Girl, The Adventure Series, The Mystery Series, The Faraway Tree…. I think you get the idea. I must have over 150 Enid Blytons, easily.
2. What book do you own the most copies of?
None – I think I own just the one copy of all my books.
3. Did it bother you that both those questions ended with prepositions?
I did notice it, but, it didn’t really bother me.
4. What fictional character are you seriously in love with?
Ayn Rand’s Howard Roark {from The Fountainhead}, or JD Salinger’s Holden Caulfield {from Catcher In The Rye}. I know people either love or hate Caulfield, but, I still love him just as much as I did when I first read the book.
5. What book have you read the most times in your life?
It’s got to be an Enid Blyton! However, now-a-days, I make it a point to read The Fountainhead once a year… I haven’t read it this year, but, have read it once a year for the previous nine years. Also, Catcher In The Rye is my “feel-good” book, and I have three copies of it, and flip through it whenever I’m down in the dumps… can’t really say how many times I’ve read it, though…
6. Favorite book as a ten year old?
Has to be The Faraway Tree books, although, if I had to say a non-Enid Blyton book, it would be Roald Dahl’s The Witches.
7. What is the worst book you’ve read in the past year?
The only book I was unable to finish this year was Anne Enright’s The Gathering. Make of that what you will…
8. What is the best book you’ve read in the past year?
Angela Carter’s The Magic Toyshop, F Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, Anthony Burgess’ A Clockwork Orange, Daphne Du Maurier’s Rebecca, Sarah Waters’ Fingersmith… boy, the list goes on!
9. If you could force everyone you know to read one book, what would it be?
In an ideal world, The Fountainhead. However, as it’s such a chunkster, I’d probably say Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, or Rohinton Mistry’s A Fine Balance.
10. What book would you like to see made into a movie?
Ooh, that’s a toughie. Maybe David Mitchell’s Number9Dream?
11. What is the most difficult book you’ve ever read?
In the recent past, Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children. However, going back ten-odd years, I attempted to read Thomas Hardy’s Tess of the D’Ubervilles. That was difficult, and I didn’t really get far. I need to try another Hardy…
12. What is your favorite book?
I am going to pretend I don’t know the difference between book and books, and list: A Fine Balance, Diary Of A Bad Year, Catcher In The Rye, The Fountainhead, To Kill A Mockingbird, Lust for Life, Fahrenheit 451, An Equal Music. The list can go on and on and on…
13. What is your favorite play?
Shakepeare’s Macbeth
14. Poem?
Felicia Heman’s Casabianca
15. Essay?
Not really sure…
16. Who is the most overrated writer alive today?
I am going to skip this one… don’t think any of the writers are “overrated”.
17. What is your favorite desert island book?
At the risk of sounding like a broken record, Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead.
18. And… what are you reading right now?
Dodie Smith’s I Capture The Castle
Filed under: Book Memes | 12 Comments
Natsuo Kirino – Out
Desperation leads one to do strange things; things one would not do under normal circumstances – things one would not even consider. This is the essence of one of the bleakest books I’ve read this year: Out.
Natsuo Kirino’s bestseller follows four women working in a bento-box factory, who turn their lives upside down, as circumstance dictates. Yayoi, in a fit of rage, strangles her husband, who was enamoured by a young hostess, and had wasted away all their savings. On realizing that she’d killed him, she contacts Musoko, one of the other factory workers, and asks for her help in disposing off the body.
Musoko instantaneously decides to help, and picks up the body from Yayoi’s place. After work that night, she speaks to Yoshie, and convinces her to lend a hand. Yoshie is reluctant, but, when Musuko promises a monetary reward, she concedes. Financial difficulties, and a teenage daughter plus an old mother-in-law to look after means Yoshie can always do with money!
And finally there’s Kuniko, a compulsive spender, who needs money to pay off the interest on her loans. Greedy, materialistic and untrustworthy, it’s no surprise that Musoko doens’t trust her enough to ask her for help outright. However, when she goes over to Musuko’s place, to beg her for a loan, Musoko and Yoshie are in the middle of dismembering the body, and they pull Kuniko in.
After cutting the body into tiny pieces, they put the fragments into garbage bags, and decide to leave it around the city – it would be the easiest way to dispose off the body. The three girls take some of the bags each, while Yayoi plays the role of the worried wife.
When a set of bags are discovered in the park, the police suspect Satake, the psychopathic owner of a club and gambling outfit, as Yayoi’s husband had gotten into a fight with him on the very evening he was killed. The girls are under the impression that they have pulled it off, and can get away scot-free…
But, old secrets come to light, and the story follows on into a glimpse of Tokyo vice: loan sharks, illegal gambling clubs, prostitution, and the like.
The book is gory, with grotesque screens described vividly: be it the dismemberment of Yayoi’s husband, or a rape scene, where the rapist is stabbing the woman and causing her to bleed to death, while raping her. If you have an overactive imagination, or a sensitive tummy, this book isn’t for you!
It’s also a glimpse into society in Tokyo: about sexism and racism, work ethics and culture, money and vice. The women are lovelorn, their relationships with their husbands have faded into nothing, and the poverty that binds their hands, leads them to make some shocking decisions. It’s not a book about friendship – it’s a book about desperation, and the choices made subsequently. The ending is as bizarre as it gets, and it’s another bloody gruesome picture.
The suspense in the book is limited to: will they be caught? The crime’s committed in the opening chapters, and in my opinion, some of the book dragged on. It’s not the best book I’ve read this year, but I was wolfing it down, eager to know what happened next. Some of the writing fell flat, and I personally thought that the translation wasn’t great.
Rating: 3.5
Filed under: Grand Prix of the Mystery Writers Of Japan, Japanese Literature Challenge 3, Natsuo Kirino, Review, Suspense/Thriller | 15 Comments
Tags: Japan, Natuso Kirino
It’s not that I’ve been neglecting my blog. It’s not that I’ve not been reading. It’s just that I’m really ill, with an “upper chest infection”. It’s not swine flu, which is a good thing… but, it does mean I’ve been on antibiotics, and in bed, and incapable of doing anything. No TV, no internet, no reading – just being in bed, and feeling sorry for myself. I didn’t actually get out of my bed all of Tuesday and Wednesday, but to go to the NHS and have them tell me to take meds.
I’ve been working on a very tight deadline for work, at the moment, and obviously falling ill got in the way of that. So, Tuesday night, I was dreaming that the guys I work with decided to dismember me, toe by toe, finger by finger, and dispose of me as I was being unreliable and irresponsible. So, I’m also taking a small break from thrillers that deal with dismemberment, considering I’ve been reading the Dexter series, as well as Natsuo Kirino’s Out. I don’t normally get nightmares, and I’ve stomached some seriously disturbing books, but, I think being ill makes me a lot more vulnerable, and maybe, at a level, I am actually scared of being cut up and thrown away. It’s a totally rational fear…
Anyway, I’m home for a week, and while I try and get well (or the course of antibiotics to run out), I’m keeping these on my bedside table, hoping to finish at least a couple…
Oh, and just because I’m home, I’ll be catching up on some Enid Blytons and Roald Dahls as well.
Happy days, despite feeling like a truck’s run over me, and all I want to do is crawl into bed and do nothing, but sleep this infection off.
Filed under: Stacks | 14 Comments
This past week, Borders re-released it’s 100 Favourite Books of All Times. Do you vote in these kinds of polls when they arise? Do you look through the list, or seek out books featured?
I do, if I come across the polls. However, I didn’t see this poll, hence, nope to this one!
I try and look through the list, and see which ones I’d like to seek out, and which ones I’ve already read. So, highlighted in blue are the ones I’ve read, and in red, the ones I intend to seek out:
- Jane Austen – Pride & Prejudice
- Harper Lee – To Kill A Mockingbird
- JRR Tolkien – Lord Of The Rings
- Jodi Picoult – My Sister’s Keeper
- Stephanie Meyer – Twilight Saga
- JK Rowling – Harry Potter & The Philosopher’s Stone
- Audrey Niffenegger – The Time Traveler’s Wife
- Markus Zusak – The Book Thief
- George Orwell – 1984
- Raymond E. Feist – Magician
- Khaled Hosseini – A Thousand Splendid Suns
- Paullina Simons – Bronze Horsemen
- Gregory David Roberts – Shantaram
- Margaret Mitchell – Gone With The Wind
- Bryce Courtenay – Power of One
- Dan Brown – The Da Vinci Code
- Dan Brown – Angels & Demons
- Paulo Coelho – The Alchemist
- Charlotte Bronte – Jane Eyre
- Tim Winton – Cloud Street
- Khaled Hosseini – The Kite Runner
- Emily Bronte – Wuthering Heights
- Arthur Golden – Memoirs of Geisha
- LM Montgomery – Anne Of Green Gables
- Joseph Heller – Catch-22
- Elizabeth Gilbert – Eat Pray Love
- Niv Mass Market Bible With Bible Guide – International Bible Society Staff and International Bible Society
- JRR Tolkien – The Hobbit
- Yann Martel – Life of Pi
- AB Facey – Fortunate Life
- Douglas Adams – The Hitch-hiker’s Guide To The Galaxy
- Lewis Carroll – Alice In Wonderland & Through The Looking Glass
- Diana Gabaldon – Cross Stich
- Rohinton Mistry – A Fine Balance
- David Pelzar – A Child Called It
- Li Cunxin – Mao’s Last Dancer
- John Marsden – Tomorrow, When The War Began
- Frank McCourt – Angela’s Ashes
- Frank Herbert – Dune
- JD Salinger – A Catcher In The Rye
- F. Scott Fitzgerald – The Great Gatsby
- Gabriel Garcia Marquez – One Hundred Years Of Solitude
- Bryce Courtenay – April Fool’s Day
- Ken Follet – Pillars Of The Earth
- Patrick Suskind – Perfume: The Story Of A Murderer
- Matthew Reilly – Ice Station
- Carlos Ruiz Zafon – The Shadow Of The Wind
- Stephen Hawking – A Brief History Of Time
- Christopher Paolini – Eragon
- Louisa May Alcott – Little Women
- Mitch Albom – Tuesdays With Morrie
- Jane Austen – Persuasion
- Alice Sebold – The Lovely Bones
- Ian McEwan – Atonement
- Leo Tolstory – Anna Karenina
- George Orwell – Animal Farm
- Anthony Burgess – A Clockwork Orange
- Antoine de Saint Exupéry – The Little Prince
- Roald Dahl – Charlie & The Chocolate Factory
- CS Lewis – The Lion, The Witch & The Wardrobe
- Gabriel Garcia Marquez – Love In The Time Of Cholera
- Bill Bryson – A Short History Of Nearly Everything
- Fyodor Dostoevsky – Crime And Punishment
- Anthony Bourke – Lion Called Christian
- Arundhati Roy – The God Of Small Things
- Paullina Simons – Tully
- John Grisham – A Time To Kill
- John Grogan – Marley & Me
- Vikram Seth – A Suitable Boy
- Alexandre Dumas – Count Of Monte Cristo
- Neil Gaiman – American Gods
- Cormac McCarthy – The Road
- Aldous Huxley – Brave New World
- Brendan Shanahan – In Turkey I Am Beautiful: Between Chaos And Madness In A Strange Land
- Tim Winton – Breath
- Bryce Courtenay – Jessica
- Graeme Base – Animalia
- Donna Tartt – The Secret History
- Mario Puzo – The Godfather
- Anne Rice – Interview With The Vampire
- Steig Larrson – The Girl With A Dragon Tattoo
- Stephen King – Stand
- Helen Fielding – Bridget Jones’ Diary
- Eckhart Tolle – New Earth
- Matthew Reilly – Seven Ancient Wonders
- Jung Chang – Wild Swans
- Nicholas Sparks – The Notebook
- Bret Easton Ellis – American Psycho
- David Eddings – Belgariad Vol. 1: Pawn Of Prophecy; Queen Of Sorcery; Magician’s Gambit
- Louis De Bernieres – Captain Corelli’s Mandolin
- Melina Marchetta – Looking For Alibrandi
- Celia Ahern – PS I Love You
- John Irving – A Prayer For Owen Meany
- Colleen McCullough – The Thorn Birds
- John Kennedy Toole – A Confederacy Of Dunces
- Terry Pratchett – Good Omens
- Hunter S. Thompson – Fear & Loathing In Las Vegas
- Joanne Harris – Chocolat
- William Goldman – Princess Bride
- Charles Dickens – Great Expectations
So, I’ve read 39 of the 100. That’s not too bad… What concerns me is, there’s a lot of “new” fiction on here, which probably wouldn’t be on the list, if the list was created say, ten years later. For instance, I am not convinced that The Twilight Saga, the Steig Larrson, both the Khaled Hosseinis, and the Jodi Picoult would make it to the list.
On the other hand, I’m quite surprised that books like Rebecca {Daphne du Maurier}, The Fountainhead {Ayn Rand}, The Handmaid’s Tale {Margaret Atwood}, Midnight’s Children {Salman Rushdie}, Disgrace {JM Coetzee}, Schindler’s Ark {Thomas Keneally}, and Anne Frank’s Diary didn’t make it to the list – and that’s just from the top of my head.
Do you think these lists are accurate? Are you surprised to see any of the books here? Which books would you add on?
Filed under: Musing Mondays | 39 Comments
Daphne du Maurier – Rebecca
Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again. It seemed to me I stood by the iron gate leading to the drive, and for a while I could not enter, for the way was barred to me.
So opens Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, and it’s an opening line that piques the reader’s curiosity. Also, it seems to be a retrospective metaphor for the narrator’s, a young girl who remains nameless, life at Manderley.
The late Mrs. Rebecca de Winter, the lady of Manderley, the wife of Maxim de Winter, the attractive tall dark-haired woman, who was politically correct and loved by one and all for her social graces, and her “breeding”, inspired the title of this classic. But, she’s not the narrator. In fact, the narrator is the “other woman”, the new Mrs. de Winter, the new lady of Manderley, a young girl of low social standing, who is also socially awkward and shy.
Maxim de Winter meets the narrator in a hotel at Monte Carlo, while she’s a companion to a rich and pretentious woman. While the woman tries her level best to charm Maxim, he is quite taken by the young narrator, and when the old lady falls ill and hires a nurse, Maxim spends a lot of time with the “companion”, and they both find that they enjoy each other’s company, despite the massive age difference. He never talks of Rebecca, and she never asks. She’s heard the gossip about the lady of Manderley, a Manor house in Cornwall, drowning in a sailing accident, and Maxim’s immediate breakdown.
When her employer decides to cut short the holiday, she runs to Maxim, who proposes marriage: she can be a companion to Mrs. Van Hopper, or she can marry him and be the lady of Manderley! She happily agrees to the latter, ignoring the fact that Maxim has never said anything about love. In fact, Mrs. Van Hopper, who the narrator has nothing but contempt for, offers the young girl a final piece of advice:
“Of course,” she said, “you know why he is marrying you, don’t you? You haven’t flattered yourself he’s in love with you?
But, the couple get married, honeymoon in Italy, and then head to the wonder that is Manderley.
Yes, there it was, the Manderley I had expected, the Manderley of my picture post-card long ago. A thing of grace and beauty, exquisite and faultless, lovelier even than I had ever dreamed, built in its hollow of smooth grassland, and mossy lawns, the terraces sloping to the gardens, and the gardens to the sea.
However, the happiness and wonder of the honeymoon ends right there, as the narrator meets the staff, who expect someone from a high social class – someone similar to Rebecca. The scornful Mrs. Danvers, who runs the household, treats the narrator with utter contempt, for, how can someone like her replace the Rebecca that Mrs. Danvers was devoted to? Her social awkwardness, her insecurities, and her mannerisms brings out the worst in Mrs. Danvers, who is excessively hostile, seemingly focusing on making the narrator’s life uneasy…
How much more uneasy can you make someone who is haunted by her husband’s dead wife’s ghost, that she can almost see Rebecca, hear the conversations Rebecca has with the staff, with Maxim? How can she escape the past, and try out a hand at being the Lady of Manderley, when everything that she wants to do has already been done – be it cutting the flowers, or placing them neatly in a vase, for decorative purposes; be it sitting at the desk in the morning room, or going for walks with the cocker spaniel, Jasper? And, how can she compare to the beauty that was Rebecca when Maxim’s own sister told her that she was nothing like Rebecca?! And, is Maxim still in love with his wife who hasn’t even been dead a year?
Just as the reader comes to grip with the story line, the plot twists, and the reader (or me, at least) can’t help but continuously flip the pages, and beg for more – to find out more about Rebecca; to find out more about Mrs. Danvers; and most importantly, to find out more about Maxim. The twists keeps the book interesting and gripping, and one can’t help be amazed by how things pan out.
I loved the book to bits. I really did. In fact, I was due an early night yesterday, but I was up ’til the wee hours of the morning finishing this classic. The prose is descriptive and beautiful, and the story incredible. Manderley sounds heavenly, and I’ve spent most of my day trying to imagine what Manderley would look like, based on du Maurier’s vivid descriptions. Wild flowers, gardens, the sea, the library, the “west wing”, the “east wing”, the works, really!
However, I did find that the narrator’s character one-dimensional, and I don’t think I really understood her. Maybe it’s the times (the book was written in the 1930s), but, I can’t help but wonder what can prompt a young girl to marry someone her father’s age? Is it just the thought that there’s someone out there who loves her, for she did delude herself into thinking Maxim had asked her to marry him because of love? And how can someone be so forgiving, and turn a blind eye to all their lover’s flaws?
Have you read Rebecca? Or, any other DDM? What did you think of it? Would you love to live in a place like Manderley? Or, is it just not for you?
Rating: 4.5
PS: Thanks to Sandy from You’ve Gotta Read This for hosting the read-along. I’m running way ahead of schedule (it was meant to be 16 chapters by the 8th, and the rest of the book by the 15th), but I just couldn’t stop reading! Blame du Maurier and Rebecca, not me!
Filed under: Daphne du Maurier, General Fiction, Review, Virago Modern Classics | 41 Comments
Tags: Daphne du Maurier
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