Fiction – Page 8 – A Bevy of Books

Me and the Little Women

Let us start with a confession: I never read Little Women. Nor have I seen any of the screen adaptations of said book. I’ll wait while you recover from the shock.

There’s no particular reason I never read it. I just never did. And I’m betting neither of my sisters read it, either – because I read almost every book that came through that house. I have no good explanation – somehow I missed it. So, I decided my education was seriously lacking and picked it up at the library.

I didn’t expect to like any of the girls in LW except Jo. Not sure why. I also expected the girls to feel more stereotypical than they did. But I really liked Meg, and liked Beth and Amy, though not as much. And I didn’t identify with Jo as much as I might have if I’d read it when I was younger.

Of course, I am more like Jo than any of them. But Jo has virtually no capacity for introspection – she didn’t seem to know herself at all. Amy did a better job of that and at a much younger age. And I never really wanted to be a boy – I just did the ‘boy’ things. But gender roles have eased considerably since Alcott’s time – lucky for me!

I liked how Jo & Laurie were best friends but at least one of them knew they would make a terrible couple. And Alcott writes in the awkward scenes that are necessary when people who care about each other have to deal with how the nature of their relationship has changed. Those who cannot navigate that space end up leaving their friends behind because they can’t talk to each other about the things that are really important. Jo & Laurie had to reconnect with who they were to each other so they could be friends without causing harm to his marriage or Jo & Amy’s relationship. It makes me crazy when people think that – because we don’t talk about it, that means it can’t hurt anyone. That is the stuff that causes the most damage. I also liked how Marmee let the girls learn from their own mistakes – always available to advise but never preachy.

I’m sure the reason that all the TV shows & movies & whatnot focus on Jo is because she was a writer – and it is the writers that are making those representations. Those that identified strongly with Meg are not writing books, they are doing other things with their lives. Same with Amy. And of course, those that identified closely with Beth didn’t live long enough to create any such thing.

I really liked the theme that a woman should have substance and follow her own heart and moral code instead of social pressure (and I would add – what her man/husband thinks). And I was pleasantly surprised when Marmee told Meg she should invite her husband into the nursery because he had a place there. And that she should make a point of getting out of the house w/out children regularly to be refreshed. And it wasn’t all phrased as ‘what she should do to make her husband happy’ but how to make a marriage work and be happy herself. If you left out the presumption that the wife would stay home while the husband worked, it was valid advice for any new mom today that was struggling with that transition.

So, now that I’ve read and enjoyed Little Women, can I get back in the clubhouse?

Dots, not feathers

I picked up A Passage to India for two reasons. 1) Zadie Smith is a big fan of E. M. Forster and 2) it was $3 at Borders. I am a fan of contemporary Indian literature (Bharati Mukherjee and Arundhati Roy being favorites) and so I am drawn to other works that focus on the area. I was curious to see what kind of perspective this Englishman – writing in the early 1900s – would have regarding the British Empire and its presence on the sub-continent.

It was interesting how the author portrays some of the social dynamics in the British Raj. Anyone who is new to the country is expected to still care about things like fairness to all people and treating the ‘natives’ as human beings. But the veterans are quick to tell those newcomers how inappropriate that behavior is. Anyone who’s been there awhile is unable to resist the social pressures applied to ‘stay true to one’s own people’ and never give the locals a favor they could exploit. And of course, women cannot socialize with Indian men without an English escort. It ends up sounding like peer pressure in high school. The new kid has to conform to the clique or else be ostracized. Boys only want one thing, and a girl could ruin her reputation just by being seen with the wrong guy. And in the end, everyone who stays – even the man who stood up for Dr. Aziz against every Englishman in the area – behaves like the rest of their English compatriots.

I enjoyed the book, though I wouldn’t put it on any top-ten list. I liked how the author spent time on the two most popular religions practiced in India at the time – Islam and Hindu. We experience some of the action through the Muslim doctor, Aziz, and Professor Godbole, a Hindu friend of Dr. Aziz. But the bulk of the book is described through English eyes – mostly those who were extremely uncomfortable with the negative interaction between Brits and Indians. It is clear that Forster did not believe that the British Empire was treating India fairly. If I was giving out stars, I’d give it three out of five.

Master James

I discovered The Master by Colm Toibin in a Powell’s newsletter. It won several awards and was short-listed for the Man Booker prize (likely because of it is just the kind of book us lit-geeks love – books about literary figures that are written by powerfully articulate authors) and it was on sale when I saw it on the shelf. The Master is a fictional account of Henry James’ life from his own perspective. Henry James, of course, is a huge figure in Modern fiction, a prolific author of novels as well as literary criticism. His most popluar works are probably The Portrait of a Lady and The Wings of a Dove (both of which I have seen film adaptations of, neither of which I enjoyed very much).

If you had asked me – before I read this book – where Henry James was from, I would have said he was from England. And if you’d asked me if he was gay, I would told you that I’d heard nothing to the contrary (but I would never rule it out, of course). Oscar Wilde – everyone (read: English geeks) knows he was gay; Henry James, never heard a whisper. Well, James was American – and gay. However, I often confuse Henry James and James Joyce in my head – so I’m hardly a good person to ask these questions of.

James is portrayed as a character on the edge of, but rarely involved in, many experiences and events. He had two brothers who fought in the American Civil War. He was born and raised in America but spent time in Europe as a child and young adult and eventually made his home there. He never married but had close women friends and was closest to his sister of all his siblings. He was welcomed in high society in Britain and Europe as an artist but was not truly included in that strata. He was attracted to men but was not able to truly pursue that as a lifestyle. He was a lauded author but not actually well-read by the general public.

The Master is engaging and well-written, but doesn’t paint Henry James as a very likable character, at least in my eyes. Well, not truly unlikeable, but probably not someone you’d want as a close friend or lover. He seems to have a difficult time actually experiencing any moment that he’s in. Rather, he removes himself as much as possible from what is happening around him and only later allows himself to feel one way or the other about it. We probably all know people like this, but few count them as close friends. Some might think it horrible that he used his personal experiences as fodder for fiction, but that doesn’t really bother me. What bothers me is that he only seems to really be able to connect with people through fiction, either his actual work or the stories he tells only to himself. So any happiness he might give or receive is difficult, if not impossible. Instead, he hurts the people he cares most about and doesn’t seem to realize it until after they’ve died and it’s too late to do anything about it. Such a sad way to live.

Strange coincidence – I read this book right after Sandra Day O’Connor’s book, and Henry James was a friend of Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. (as young men and throughout their lives). It even implies – and again, this is a work of fiction based on facts, not a biography of established facts – that James and Holmes had a one-time sexual encounter during their friendship.

Toibin is clearly a skilled writer (a master, one might say) who can create authentic atmosphere and character for people, places and eras. He made the character of James interesting and sympathetic without ignoring his negative traits. I will surely be looking for other books by Toibin. If you are looking for an enjoyable way to learn more about Henry James, artists in the early modern period, American ex-patriots, gay men in the Modern period, the English relationship with Ireland, American views on the Civil War, or the thought processes of conflicted people – all of these and more can be found here.

Adventures on the Mississippi and the U.S. Highway system

I recently moved to the Portland area, which means I can now drive to see my sister in Montana in one day (only 600 miles away – practically next door!). Having done this drive alone twice before, I knew it could be incredibly long and boring, even with an iPod full of music to keep me company. I have a friend who listens to audio books while she paints and thought they might be a great way to entertain myself for the 9.5 hour drive. And when I found out that I could get them free from my local library – well, it was all over but the shouting.

For my maiden voyage, I chose The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain – another of those books that I can’t believe I’ve never read. This recording was about 9 hours long and read by someone named Tom Parker – who did a great job with the accents and didn’t try too hard to be a woman.

I’m sure I’m not the first person to say this – but the characterizations in this book are first-rate. You know boys like Huck Finn and men like his dad and many of the rest of the people you meet here. Other than some of the archaic language (and really, there’s not much that isn’t still in use), you have heard people say the very things uttered by characters in this book. Aunt Polly shows up at the end, and Tom says “What?” all innocent – like my son has done a million times – and she says “Don’t ‘what’ me!” – which is exactly what I say every time. Cracked me up. The reality of the characters and dialogue helps to sell the exaggerated, humorous plot.

I laughed out loud a few times at the irony in this book. The fact that Huck is sure he’s going to hell because he’s freeing a slave, the fact that he thinks less of Tom because he’s willing to help Huck free Jim, his self-deprecation in the face of Tom’s ‘better’ crazy plans – these are just a few of the dozens of things – large and small – that Twain turns on their heads for our amusement. Of course, Twain was not just trying to amuse people, he was beating up on those who still believed that black people were less than white people. He constantly talks about how ‘surprising’ it is that black people (whom he refers to as ‘niggers,’ as was typical of the time – and rather jarring to hear) seem to actually care about their families and otherwise behave and think just like white folks when given the chance. He uses every opportunity to pound home the idea that it is ridiculous to believe anything different. Twain started writing the novel 10 years after the Civil War, and it was published in 1884.

Twain reminds me of Dickens, with all of the (what I consider) extraneous descriptions of rooms and paintings and physical appearances of minor characters. He also puts all these vignettes in the book that really have nothing to do with Huck or Jim and – in my mind – distract from the main storyline rather than enhance it. The drama of breaking Jim out is funny, the story of the feuding families and the chapters and chapters of the con artists were much less interesting.

While the book didn’t keep my legs from stiffening up and making me walk like an octogenarian when I stopped to pee, it did keep me from moaning to myself with boredom until I reached my destination. And while Huck Finn will never be my favorite book, I enjoyed it enough to consider making The Adventures of Tom Sawyer my next road-trip audio book.

Just call me one of the people…

My sister is a big fan of the historical bodice-ripper, but People of the Book, by Geraldine Brooks, is my kind of historical fiction. As soon as I saw the title, there was no question that I would have to seriously consider purchasing this book. The blurb on the back did nothing to discourage me. As much as the title sounds like a cheesy take on low-rent historical novels, what’s inside is a fabulous read by Pulitzer-prize-winning author Brooks (whom I’ve never read before).

Hanna is a specialist in text preservation, sent to Sarajevo to authenticate and restore a 500-year-old, illustrated Jewish prayer book, known as the Sarajevo Haggadah (which really exists). As Hanna examines and rebinds the book, we learn the history of the book through those who created, sheltered and used the book throughout its history. Much of the history Brooks shares is accurate (with names and details changed) and much is invented, but the result is a tribute to those who put what is right above what is safe. Part detective novel, part human drama, part history lesson – this novel contains the best and worst of human behavior in all its glory.

As we follow the book through its travels, we visit places where – contrary to the current public discourse – Muslims, Jews and Christians lived in harmony as well as close quarters. And yes, that was places – plural. Seville, Vienna and Sarajevo are among the cities where people lived together, putting their parallels as human beings above their disparities as believers. None of these golden ages lasted forever – nothing is certain but change. I revel in these examples of places and times when people realized that – regardless of upbringing or faith – we all have something to learn and share with each other. The things we have in common are more important and numerous than the things we do not. I’m sure that comes across as simplistic and sappy – but that doesn’t mean it is false. That is what I believe, and what keeps me going in the face of a negative world. It is nice to spend time with someone who shares my view, and includes evidence of whole communities who agreed. Those of us who wish to build a future of diversity and understanding can be encouraged by past successes.

Regardless of whether or not this theme is important to you, the story is gripping, the character of Hanna is interesting, and any fan of the CSI shows will find lots of scientific exploration to entertain them. The writing is not top-notch, but well-done and moves at a nice pace. I thought the frame story of Hanna’s life was a bit thin, but the story of the book is well-executed and a great read.