More of jillmwo's ponderings on books read in 2015

Just figured I'd start a new thread. No hasty conclusions should be drawn on the basis of me taking this step.

Are leisurely conclusions okay?

My question exactly: what sort of conclusions are we to draw?

What if we are not gifted in the talent of drawing, do we have to draw any conclusions at all? I'm better at cooking. Can I just simmer my conclusions?

I believe I'm sensing just a wee bit of snark from my best buds here. (My sons would call it sass.) I will now go away and read a book or two in the interests of hitting all three of you with book bullets -- some of which may be delayed in their impact. But rest assured, sooner or later, there will be impact.

(dum-dum-dum-dum *ominous theme music*)

(Whew) Boy, am I glad I didn't jump in with a wisecrack. At least, not yet.

 
Actually, I was still trying to think of one.

Can I conclusively conclude that conclusive conclusions will be concluded?

I’m going to present all of you with a gift. A nicely organized reading project, suitable for young adults as well as senior citizens, bloggers as well as lurkers, professionals as well as students. It starts out with the recommendation that you find and read the short story by Anthony Berkeley, The Avenging Chance. It’s a slightly-longish short story from the British Golden Age of detective stories. Roger Sheringham is the literary sleuth and he aids Inspector Moresby in working out how a happily married woman came to be poisoned by the casual gift of a box of chocolates. You can find the story in another British Library Crime Classic publication, the anthology Capital Crimes: London Mysteries, edited by Martin Edwards. Berkeley’s short story is a standout in that collection as I found the rest of the tales a bit lacking in appeal. (For the record, The Avenging Chance is a relatively well-known short story from the classic mystery tradition and may be found in other anthologies as well. Ask your local librarian for assistance.)

Once you’ve read that, go read Who Killed Roger Ackroyd by Pierre Bayard. I wrote about this one back in 2010 (See the dormant thread/entry at: https://www.librarything.com/topic/147306#4216261). It’s actually a nice, short read, but a very useful one in talking about the means used to distract readers from working out a literary puzzle as mode of entertainment..

Then go and find a copy of the full length mystery, The Poisoned Chocolates Case, also by Anthony Berkeley. (I think the most recent edition was published by Felony and Mayhem, and it is still in print.) Berkeley was so enamoured of his short story that he amplified on it in this book. Here you have six different solutions to the same basic mystery presented in The Avenging Chance, six solutions with varying degrees of plausibility but all of which reflect how mystery writers would approach the problem of creating a puzzle for the reader. (Towards the very end of the book, there’s even a grid outlining the various scenarios and means, motives, and opportunities for each solution.) It’s great because the final solution in the novel in no way mirrors the solution in the short story.

Once you've read all three of these items, you'll have a grasped a great deal of how mystery writers think and work through their challenge of posing a logic problem while entertaining the reader. It's a perfect learning opportunity.

So if you’re looking for an idea for a cohesive reading project to work through during your week’s vacation, there it is for you. I’ve just given you a short story, a piece of non-fiction, and a full-length novel to read (so I’ve provided variety). I’ve provided you with a stimulating but not overly-taxing intellectual exercise (so an educational reading experience). It’s not overwhelming in terms of number of pages (readily managed in a manner of days, even allowing for canoeing on lakes and picnics and visits to amusement parks.) About the only thing I’ve not done is present you with a Reader’s Guide with author biography and break-out of study questions. Here's a link to the three titles as a single tagged project in my library (https://www.librarything.com/catalog.php?view=jillmwo&tag=project&shelf=list&sort=stamp&sort=stampREV)

So there you go. Let’s see who reports back first.

>8 jillmwo: I'm intrigued . . . but isn't there any need to read Agatha Christie's The Murder of Roger Ackroyd as part of the set? I read that probably in my teens, and I still remember the shuddery feeling.

I love that you did this. It's the sort of thing I've aspired to do and haven't yet accomplished. Maybe with your model in mind I can take another shot at it.

>8 jillmwo: wonderful! Looking for these things also led me to Six against the Yard, which looks as if it would fit right in, even if Berkeley's story in it isn't the assigned one.

ETA: I'll be joining the project team in about three weeks, after completing a larger project.

If anyone wants to read "The Avenging Chance" online without an anthology, it is here.

http://733257565503770808.weebly.com/uploads/1/2/5/5/12551251/avenging_chance.pd...

Two things there, @MrsLee. I'm not up on current copyright law in the UK and what currently falls into public domain, but Berkeley's short story was originally published in 1929. Do be careful that you verify the legalities before downloading such material. I don't want anyone here to inadvertently become a pirate and vulnerable to prosecution by rights holders. My second point also has to do with vulnerabilty. Always be careful about PDFs downloaded from unbranded websites. They may not always be safe from viruses and malware.

Thank you, good warnings, both.

I am glad I came late to this party and managed to avoid the "conclusion" debate, hasty or otherwise. It appears this debate has prompted the issuance of further homework and I am so far behind with my school work I would be in real trouble if I had to carryout the punishment work.

Good luck with your new thread, @jillmwo. I look forward to enjoying your posts, comments and wit.

>8 jillmwo: err, does it count as a book bullet if you've been held against a wall and shot repeatedly between the eyes? *blinks rapidly*

Repeat to self: I don't need a project. I DON'T need a project. I ... dammit.

>9 Meredy: I can't put my hand on the volume immediately in order to check, but I don't think any real depth of familiarity with the Christie novel is required. I seem to recall that Pierre Bayard provides a summary. (I read this back in 2010 originally and I'm sure that what familiarity I had was probably based on watching one of the television dramatizations.) I don't want you to get any fit of the shudders.

>14 pgmcc: I will not be embarking on the project myself (I'll just be waiting to see what others come up with) so you and I can still exchange quips and ripostes. (Although really, I am disappointed that you've not finished all the 2014 and 2015 homework. I can't imagine what interferes with completion..Oh I forgot. It's all those secret missions to the south of France, isn't it?)

>15 imyril: I *never* hold folks against the wall in order to hit them with book bullets. I have always found moving targets to be more interesting. (And just think how much more superior you will feel to @pgmcc when you've finished!)

>16 jillmwo: so if I drop to the floor I'm all safe? I must bear that in mind in future... although this feels like a ruse. Is the floor covered in piles of interesting books, perchance?

I am currently enjoying company, so will have to wait a few days before I have the opportunity to investigate the availability of the assigned texts. Of course, @jillmwo could probably get a bulk discount if she were to buy enough copies of the aforementioned texts for every Green Dragon member, and have all of those texts delivered to all of the GD homes, along with study guides, notebooks, pencils, highlighters, sticky notes, etc. Oh, and chocolate. Chocolate always helps.

I'll even supply my own highlighter.

>8 jillmwo: Is this also a subtle ploy to help me lose weight by putting me off chocolates?

I'm a huge Agatha Christie fan and The Murder of Roger Ackroyd is one of her best. I think I will reread that first as part of the project!

Jill, it sounds to me like your wonderful project, adding in Christie's TMoRA, would be a great addition to any course in Mystery Writing 101!

>20 mrgrooism: Oh, you silly human. As if anything could put one off chocolates!

Before I disappear for the next four days, I did want to urge those of you with extra pocket money to go purchase and read Michael Dirda's most recent collection of columns, entitled Browsings. I have snarfed down a good portion of them just in the past 12 hours.

I have to go pack my suitcase now as I'm off to see the offspring!

How can it be that I've not read every single thing ever written by Michael Dirda? Seriously go get your hands on a Kindle edition of Browsings as referenced above. Excellent stuff. And well suited to Kindle reading, as the essays are short and readily digestible in that format. He talks about attending Readercon, which is something I've always wanted to attend. He writes about thrift store finds, paper notebooks, anthologies and collections (and the difference between the two), etc. So I've now got two or three other volumes of Dirda somewhere here in the house and I need to find them all and read them.

But I also read Agatha Christie and Terry Pratchett on my weekend train trip. (It was about four or five hours one way.) I'm still reading Pratchett's Guards, Guards! and because I can't tell for sure where he's going with this, I'm just this side of ROFL.

And then of course we have to give a stern glance in the direction of both @Sakerfalcon and @Imyril for their reading recommendations (otherwise known as book bullets). Do you people not know that I have a life that requires attention? And I did find that wonderful book on Daniel Defoe and the back story on Robinson Crusoe as well...

By the way, I learned a new word today -- Robinsonade. It's a sub-genre of adventure stories that are based on or share characteristics with Robinson Crusoe. Honestly the only thing I know about Defoe's novel is what I remember from reading it out loud in the classroom in fourth grade and the fact that Gabriel Betteridge, the butler in The Moonstone, used it as a guide for life when puzzled by circumstances. (For more on Robinsonades, see http://ufdc.ufl.edu/defoe)

>22 jillmwo: Just because I hit you, doesn't mean you had to retaliate with Browsings.

>24 SylviaC:, Well, I'm always one for symmetry.

>9 Meredy:, I wanted to let you know that I unearthed my copy of Bayard's Who Killed Roger Ackroyd? and, while he assumes some level of familiarity with Christie's various novels, the reader need not be a huge Christie fan to benefit from the discussion. He's mostly using them to discuss the interaction between writer and reader. How is the author of a mystery presenting the hidden "truth" of the crime/murder and how might the reader be best equipped to examine specific technique and discover that "truth"? On one level, he's talking literary theory, but he's applying it to a very common form. It's really a worthwhile read. (Just as an aside, I was annoyed to realize that other works by Bayard are available in digital form, but not this particular one.)

>26 jillmwo: Thanks for the addendum. You have really piqued my curiosity with this analysis. What's more, I think I may have finally found a topic and instances for a little--what did you call it?--project of my own.

>8 jillmwo: I have requested all of the assigned texts through interlibrary loan. When they will show up, and in what order, is a mystery.

Social climbing Lord and Lady Aveling are holding a house party at Bragley Court on this fine, fall weekend. As one might expect in England during the late 1930’s, the guests travel down by Friday’s trains, the one around noon, the one mid-afternoon (in time for tea) and the last pulling in just before six. On the surface, it’s an interesting assemblage. There’s the political entity whose loyalties Aveling hopes to sway. There’s the commercial entity -- another potential alliance to be forged. There’s the actress, hoping that someone will agree to back a play for her, the strikingly lovely widow, and the gushing author with the hyphenated surname, personally responsible for a host of bad novels. There’s the sought-after portrait painter and the jaded gossip columnist. The daughter of the house too has her suitors, anxious to know where they stand. Just as in Downton Abbey, marriage and financial wherewithal go together.

Also at the station, two other arrivals make their presence known. There’s the klutz who gets his foot caught while descending from the train to the platform, and the sinister lurker who merely “observes”.

Sadly, in the context of this final stag hunt of the season, it takes less than 24 hours for two bodies to be found on the estate. Naturally, this invokes a further level of repressed anxiety on the visitors. The weekend gathering won’t appear in the society columns for the “right” reasons, but more embarrassingly for reasons of uncomfortable scandal. But of course, the guests can’t depart as they might wish until Inspector Kendall has found out the secrets of those responsible.

This Golden Age Mystery -- Thirteen Guests by J. Jefferson Farjeon -- has a certain psychological heaviness. There’s no sense of coziness here -- just a growing discomfort as the thirteen guests gather in small groups of three or two, eyeing their fellows across the china tea cups in the pink-and-white drawing room.

The novel is a convoluted tale that requires a tremendously complex unraveling at the end, but it is also an intriguing presentation that succeeds as a different style of classic “Country House” mystery fiction. This novel predates Farjeon’s lighter Mystery in White that was so popular last year, and it is very different in structure and approach. While personally not a purist in these matters, let me note that Farjeon did break one of the famous Detection Club “rules” (http://www.the-line-up.com/the-detection-club-rules/) and he broke at least one of S.S. Van Dine’s set of 20 rules (http://gaslight.mtroyal.ab.ca/vandine.htm) for writing detective fiction. That said, I think Thirteen Guests was an early attempt to render the emotional agonies and social discomforts that can provoke murderous thoughts and actions. The question is not whether a human being is capable of murder, but rather which anxiety-driven social misfit is sufficiently motivated to override existing taboos against it. Of those attending the Avelings’ weekend house party, there are more secretive candidates than you might think. But don’t misunderstand -- this is still a bit of entertainment and not the sophisticated psychological examination one finds in something like Gone Girl. By which I mean that it is probably safe to read this one at bedtime.

I’d give it four stars (five, but for the incident involving the dog and the amount of attention given over to timetables.)

I recently discovered Michael Dirda (as embarrassing as it may be to admit that I wasn't all that familiar with the guy characterized as "the best-read man in America" and who was a long time book critic for the Washington Post). At any rate, while I swallow some of his material whole, you all might want to go read this lovely column from the Paris Review: http://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2012/12/28/book-shopping-with-the-best-read-m... . What makes it interesting is reading how Michael Dirda (who seems to be a very nice man) goes book shopping in a used bookstore. What is *wonderful* is the discovery of a kindred soul reader.

Oh, and here's what Dirda recommends by way of Science Fiction:
http://www.forbes.com/sites/johnfarrell/2014/07/20/michael-dirda-a-science-ficti...
And here's an appreciation of Leigh Brackett's work that he wrote for the Library of America:
http://www.loa.org/sciencefiction/appreciation/dirda.jsp

And here's a link to an open access version of one of the essays included in Browsings as recommended above in #22: https://www.english.upenn.edu/~traister/uva.html

Thanks for those links, Jill! No time now but I will follow all of them.

Those links are purely intended to persuade you of Dirda's being a good source of reading material and recommendations, @Jim53. There will be no quiz (contrary to what you may hear from others here in the pub...)

Question of the Day: Imagine you're out for breakfast at a Panera or a Starbucks or even a plain old New York City coffee shop. If you should hear a married couple discussing Daniel Defoe's body of work and Charles Dickens' body of work over breakfast, would you assume that these are intellectuals? Or would you assume that these are parents coping with a teenager's reluctance to complete summer reading assignments? Both individuals had had their morning wake-up beverages and there was sufficient blood sugar in transit to the brain.

>32 jillmwo: If it were Starbucks I would assume they were lost and trying to appear nonchalant.

>32 jillmwo: Do kids get those books assigned to read anymore? I sure didn't, but I was in an era of dumbing down literature in school. I think they were librarians. Illicitly meeting at Starbucks. Because illicit makes it more adventurous.

Nope, don't assign those books any more. Did not assign them, as far as I know, for years.

Starbucks... who can be illicit there, more than half the town walks through, and that's only in Seattle.

>34 MrsLee: and >35 maggie1944: You're probably right that educators avoid assigning Robinson Crusoe these days, but ten or twelve years ago, my sons still had to read a fair amount of Charles Dickens in high school. They had Great Expectations, A Tale of Two Cities, and there was a third one that eludes me at the moment.

>33 pgmcc: Starbucks is way too intense for tourists. Even in my sleepy area, it's for the college kids and the business people. My spouse insists he can't find anything he likes in Starbucks so I only get to enter one these days if I'm on my own or my eldest son is with me. The youngest son finds the pricing prohibitive but likes the wi-fi.

The original question arose because my spouse and I were in Panera, having the conversation when he asked me about the book I was reading. I just noticed one or two folks giving us odd looks, and I wondered what might have been in their minds. Maybe they thought it was just far too serious a conversation for two people to be having in public over breakfast. (Why can't those two be more civilized and just talk about the tabloid front page?)

I'm surprised that they didn't ask you to leave, after all there were probably children present.

Or some sort of opposite to "I'll have what they're having."

>36 jillmwo: OK, now I'm getting it. They thought you were talking about your family and acquaintances, because
a) They don't know about books
b) They think that couples wouldn't discuss books at breakfast (or any other time)

I'm afraid it's been very unfocused reading this weekend. On the advice of Michael Dirda, I began reading Venetia by Georgette Heyer. I'm sure, if I've read this before, I read it only on the most shallow of levels, for the regency romance and not for the artfulness of the writing. I didn't pick up on the Shakespearean quotes, etc. and did not properly appreciate what a well-constructed novel it is. She's really quite good at dialogue, at shifting point of view, and her humor is evident, coming close to but not entirely going over the top. Venetia is really just a version of Twelfth Night, consisting of deceptions, infatuations, and inappropriate pairings. And there are lovely bits of literary allusions which I had to go look up, mostly because I'm not up on Congreve, Christopher Marlow and Samuel Johnson.

Dirda did a write up of Heyer in his book Classics for Pleasure where he included a number of authors whose works have maintained their popularity with a mainstream audience. While the table of contents still lists more men than women, it at least spoke respectfully and intelligently of the material. I can quibble with him for assigning more importance to A Little Princess and The Secret Garden than to some of Frances Hodgson Burnett's adult novels, but he's not nearly as dismissive of Heyer, Christie, du Maurier, etc. as other literary critics have been. (For the record, Dirda has a Ph.D. in literature from Cornell University.)

I also was dipping into Maggie Lane's book, Growing Older with Jane Austen. The book is excellent in addressing various portrayals of middle and old age in Austen, but I am really quite irritated with the publisher. The book's index is abysmal and not supportive of any kind of research. The user can't go in and find all the references to a particular fictional character or even to a single novel discussed in Lane's book. It's quite infuriating. Books like this are tools for use, and the publisher didn't clearly wasn't thinking about more than his print production costs!

Harrumph!

>39 MrsLee: I don't want to give a false impression. My husband and I don't always talk about books at breakfast. Sometimes, we have utterly boring conversations about what's for dinner or the Sunday comics. Even worse, sometimes we ignore each other entirely and simply focus on our reading without regard for social niceties.

>30 jillmwo: Holy Cow! I just had time to read that Paris Review article. Good thing I had on my heavy duty book bullet armor, although, I won't say that I'm not going to be hit by delayed action at some point. What fun! That is my favorite way to shop for books. My husband doesn't understand why I have to look at ALL the shelves in the bookstores. :)

Quote from Michael Dirda’s work, Book by Book: Notes on Reading and Life: “The matter of ideals lies at the heart of education. What, finally are the values we wish to impart? In some compendia of moral wisdom --such as William Bennett’s Book of Virtues -- we are bludgeoned with powerful accounts of good and evil, where virtue is nearly always triumphant. To endure times of crisis and doubt, we are told, people require strong, clear lessons, with unambiguous moral points. This is pure Aristotle by the way, who felt that virtuous behavior was largely the product of habit and practice.”

So, there was this column in the New York Times recently that asked whether a virtuous character could be interesting. (See http://www.nytimes.com/2015/08/09/books/review/can-a-virtuous-character-be-inter... The reason that such a question grabbed my attention was a reading experience I had just had with a book group. One of the academics had suggested that we read “The Hidden Hand” by E.D.E.N. Southworth. (It’s actually two volumes. The first is The Hidden Hand and the second is entitled Capitola’s Peril; the two together make up the quintessential 19th century sensation novel.) The story was originally serialized back in 1858 and became a true best-seller in the late 19th century. It’s wildly implausible as a work of fiction, but it does have a truly broad range of characters -- some rather stereotypical in their attitudes.

The novel offers you two types of women. The first is the unorthodox Capitola who, because she has had to disguise herself as a boy in order to make a living on the streets, has never learned the propriety expected of feminine souls in the 19th century. Capitola rides, explores, traps the bad guy, even fights a duel over the course of the novel. As a literary character, she’s really rather fun, but one has to acknowledge that a woman in the nineteenth century living in New York City or Washington DC, would never have been received socially if she’d truly behaved in such an outrageously indecorous fashion.

The second type of woman is exemplified by Clara Day, a young woman of sterling character who is thoroughly ruled by her father and her really-recently-betrothed sweetheart. When her father dies, she is handed over to the care of a wicked guardian (as she’s still underage). She is distressed to learn from that guardian that she will not be allowed to remain in her childhood home surrounded by the familiar and beloved family retainers. To her credit, Clara objects to this ruling with equal parts of vehemence and dismay and, just as one might hope, she initially refuses the obligation placed on her by the court.

Her father’s friend is horrified by this lack of obedience and remonstrates with her: “Clara, my dear, dear girl, this impatience and rebellion is so unlike your gentle nature that I can scarcely recognize you for the mild and dignified daughter of my old friend.“ Chastened, Clara subsides and (literally) prays to her deceased parent in this manner, “Dear father, if you can look down and see me now, forgive your poor Clara, her anger and her impatience.” She then turns to the judge with this dignified response:

"Your honor," she began, in a low, sweet, clear tone, "I owe it to Doctor Rocke here present, who has been sadly misrepresented to you, to say (what, under less serious circumstances, my girl's heart would shrink from avowing so publicly) that I am his betrothed wife—sacredly betrothed to him by almost the last act of my dear father's life. I hold this engagement to be so holy that no earthly tribunal can break or disturb it. And while I bend to your honor's decision, and yield myself to the custody of my legal guardian for the period of my minority, I here declare to all who may be interested, that I hold my hand and heart irrevocably pledged to Doctor Rocke, and that, as his betrothed wife, I shall consider myself bound…”

You must see how Clara is the picture-perfect Womanly Woman as defined by the social norms of that age. (She and her betrothed, Dr. Rocke, are quite tediously virtuous throughout the whole of the novel. He lacks sufficient patience and she lacks sufficient spunk. So the answer to that initial question of Can a Virtuous Character Be Interesting? would appear to be no.)

The author does successfully make the thing interesting when Capitola and Clara have to change places in the course of the plot in order to avoid the wicked guardian marrying Clara to his creepy son, all in the hope of diverting Clara’s inheritance into his hands. Clara must be seen by observers to be Capitola when she exits the house (where she’s been held captive). She’s told to adopt Capitola’s swagger. She does so and, despite minimal practice, manages it convincingly and escapes. Conversely, standing in for Clara, Capitola is quiet and demure at the wedding ceremony until the point where (asked if she takes this man, etc.) she responds with quite a lengthy and rambunctious version of “no”. Clara represents the virtue of controlled behavior where Capitola represents the value derived from bursting from those controls. In the view of some literary experts, it is this unexpected portrayal of women in rebellion that makes Hidden Hand and Capitola’s Peril worth preserving.

As further indication of this type of sensationalized, totally-lacking-in-moral-fiber style of story-telling, let me share with you the fact Louisa May Alcott includes a thinly veiled reference to E.D.E.N. Southworth’s writing in Little Women in the chapter, Literary Lessons. In that chapter, as Jo is seeking a way to support herself, she sees a young man reading a periodical containing a story by Mrs. S.L.A.N.G. Northbury. He tells her that the author makes a good living by writing such tales. Jo quickly begins to produce and sell similar sensation novels and, by so doing, helps to keep food on the table, but her ever-virtuous father naturally urges her to “aim high and forget about the money”. (There’s a moral lesson there, but Alcott doesn’t belabor it. She knew from her own family’s inadequacies what might be needed to survive.) When compared to Hidden Hand, ALcott’s Little Women is substantially more realistic in presenting the ways of the world. It’s one of the reasons why Alcott has survived in the literary canon. When you look at Little Women in the context of its time, she’s amazing, whatever you may think of the novel’s current appropriateness for young girls.

By today’s standards, I suspect that we’d rather offer Capitola as a role model to our daughters than Clara or even Jo March these days. Through a modern lens of virtue, we might value Capitola’s active engagement with the realities of the world much more than we do the biddable responses of Clara and/or Jo. Capitola is presented as being creative, competent and, for all her outrageous antics, as a more authentic kind of human being.

All of this, I’m hoping, brings us back to my initial quote from Dirda’s book regarding the inculcation of virtue through reading. Perhaps it’s not really a question of whether virtuous fictional characters can be interesting, but rather a question of whether the reader’s interest lies more in the authenticity of the behavior presented than in whether the character is good or bad. Dirda concludes in his chapter, “The Pleasures of Education”, that we should support “moderate character traits --temperance, studiousness, deliberation, appropriateness, prudence” as the foundation of civilized behavior and as a guard against the extremes. At the same time, he notes that a certain latitude needs to be extended to youth, thereby allowing for the education gleaned through failure and second attempts.

Which suggests (at least to me) that, if we’re going to teach the virtues through literature, then those virtues need to be embodied by the likes of a Capitola, a Jo March or a Harry Potter -- recognizable as “real”, but presented with aspects of strength that make the character more striking or emulable.

(You had already reached this conclusion, hadn’t you? I’m just posting it here as my own rambling way of passing the time.)

I always wondered where Mrs. S.L.A.N.G Northbury came from--it seemed to be too pointed a name not to be a parody.

Re virtuous characters being interesting...have you read Van Reid's Moosepath Chronicles, which are almost an American version of a Dickens saga? I would state that their central figure, Mister Walton, along with the other members of the Moosepath League, manage quite well to be virtuous and interesting at the same time.

I remember thinking those looked attractive when they were published, @Marissa_Doyle, but I can't find any listing for Cordelia Underwood here on LT which leads me to believe that I passed it by. Maybe I'll add the title to my ever-lengthening wishlist of books to keep on the look out for.

I'm slightly acquainted with Van and am happy to report he resold the series (along with a forthcoming book) to Downeast Books, and they'll be coming out in ebook editions at some point in the near future. They're wonderful comfort reads for when I've exhausted my Georgette Heyer collection.

I am charmed, charmed I tell you, by @imyril's fondly recalled recommendation from her childhood, Green Smoke. It's a very small, very short book for the 8- or 9-year-old in you or in your life. I have read three chapters and am reluctant to read more of it this evening for fear I will swallow it down and it will be OVER.

I had no idea that Merlin lived in a house with seventy windows and sixty doors, but I find it entirely plausible. I think the story of the miraculous and very kind St. Petroc is wonderful. And the fact that the green dragon has a weakness for almond buns as his elevenses?

*happy sigh* (Do you suppose @imyril gets extra good karma when, because of her recommendation, just the right book hits just the right person in just the right moment?)

I thought you would like Green Smoke. I still have my childhood copies of the first three books in the series, which were given to me as presents when I was eight or nine. They are old Puffins, and are starting to let go of their pages, and one of them had an unfortunate encounter with damp Tang powder. A couple of years ago, I bought the fourth book (which was written many years later), but it was very disappointing.

>46 jillmwo: Yes, of course she does. It looks delightful, but the price is beyond my purse for that type of book right now. I will have to leave it up to Serendipity.

Growing Older with Jane Austen is actually an interesting read, reviewing (as the title might suggest) all of Austen’s novels through the lens of age. The first chapter, “Loss of Youth & Beauty”, indicates that point when age would turn against a woman in Georgian England, that is, when she might be considered as a spinster, a dependent relative, on the shelf insofar as marriage might be concerned and therefore without a bright future. What makes the book particularly interesting is all the attention granted to those secondary characters from Austen’s novels who might not otherwise be given much time in the spotlight. There’s a certain stimulation in considering the older Mrs. Ferrars (Edward’s mother in Sense and Sensibility) in the context of chapters like “Parent and Child” and “Four Dowager Despots”. Mrs Clay, the gold-digging companion to Sir Walter Elliot in Persuasion appears in a chapter entitled “Not the Only Widow in Bath”. Lady Susan -- that scandalous female -- shows up in the chapter “Merry Widows”.

This book isn’t just about the fictional characters. It’s about the cultural behaviors and attitudes in place that Austen’s novels present as ordinary, or as Miss Bingley might phrase it “not out of the common way”. DIfferent chapters touch on how the aging process might impact one’s social status and thus one’s circumstances in terms of residence or income. (For example, the chapter on Bath discusses how the population of Bath shifted over time from being a fashionable city full of attractions to members of the Court to being one overpopulated with widows suddenly forced to relocate.) There are plenty of references to real places and individuals but less than might actually justify an index given over *solely* to real persons and historical sites.

If you read Jane Austen and Food by this author, and enjoyed it, I can recommend this one as well to you. It's very much in the same vein.

In the context of my broader reading this past week, I was simply reminded of the differences between Jane Austen (who was writing novels that were contemporary with her readers) and Georgette Heyer (who was researching and writing historical novels) and one or two nameless authors of Regency romances who focus purely on the love story because that’s the focus of many consumers. (I had a friend who loved to read regency romances back in the ‘80’s. She was a Wall Street financial analyst with a Ph.D. and she absolutely adored a well-done regency romance. I think she introduced me to the Signet Regency Romances way back when. We referred to them as her brain candy. Not good as a steady diet, but a real treat upon occasion.)

>46 jillmwo: oh I'm so glad you are enjoying it! (or have no doubt enjoyed its entirety by now, given its slim stature)

And I'm quite sure we should all have buns for elevenses more often!

Participating in the group read of Song of the Beast by Carol Berg, I spent some time with the book this past week. What I'm posting here is very similar to what I posted over in the group thread, but not identical as I've sorted through my response just a bit more. I'm also editing this post to note that this is the very first of the author's novels that I have read. I had no preconceptions going in; I very impulsively decided to join in on the group read and didn't research the book or the author in advance.

With that as my foundation, let me say that I have a bit of a mixed reaction to this stand-along fantasy novel. I found it interesting in that it was artfully constructed. As @JannyWurtz indicated, the woman does know how to plot. I did not see some of the twists and turns coming down the pike. The pacing was slower than one usually finds in fantasy, but well-considered; the language spare. In terms of creative output, I give the author full marks because it's clear she knows what she is doing.

What I didn't care for was the emphasis on the experience of pain throughout the entire novel. Aidan, Lara, the dragons are all in constant physical pain, struggling not just against emotional trauma, but physical impairment as well. It's not just mental pain or angst that they're coping with; it's past maiming and either "ghost" or on-going pain. The novel might be seen as the author's meditation on PTSD. For example, one thing we see is Aidan consistently push away those who might be trying to establish a connection with him (Alfrigg, for example). It is a behavior pattern frequently mentioned in the context of PTSD. The copyright date is 2003, so perhaps that makes sense in that it was written not too long after the events of September 11. The author's point may well have been how we find out way out of the pain following such an event. It's perfect valid as a theme, but it's still difficult reading, particularly if one is unaware of that context. I found the novel interesting, artfully written and told remarkably well in many ways, but I did not find it to be my idea of an light, engaging read. During the week, I would periodically have to put it down and walk away in order to get a bit of distance. Yes, it ends on a note of hope, but I feel as if Berg might owe her readers a sequel to this particular standalone novel, just in order to flesh out that hope.

And actually, that brings me 'round to a new thought -- or at least one not explored to any extent here. How much advance awareness ought one to have in reading a book? In trade publishing, the reader opens the hardcover book jacket to see what's offered on the inside flap as an indication of the book's contents. With a mass market paperback, you used to get the same type of brief intro on the back of the book. If you were standing in a brick-and-mortar store, that's what you used to determine whether or not to buy.

But when you're in this setting -- online and listening to what others might be recommending -- how much advance awareness of a book's content should you get? From the writer's perspective, probably a minimal amount, because the author wants you to experience a particular emotional response from the tale. From a reader's perspective, one might not choose to experience that kind of emotional response, because it's a painful one and/or not suited to relaxation of the mind. I'm not talking about assigned reading for educational purposes here. I'm talking about how much you want to know about a book when you're selecting it for non-educational or non-work-related purposes.
.

I think knowing the advance awareness you may need might vary not only from person to person, but also within each person's life. There are times when the theme of a book is not something I can swallow at that time, but at others it would be fine. For myself, I try to get a glimmer of the mood of a book. I don't want any dark depressing themes at the moment, nor do I ever want torture or serial killing. If I find myself unexpectedly in the middle of such a book I will probably stop reading it. If it is well written, I may continue and swallow the unpleasant aspects. It all depends on what I can handle at the moment.

When you saw the theme of pain in that book, I wonder if everyone saw that, or if some only discovered or realized what they were reading after you mentioned it? I have had that experience many times, where I saw the underlying theme quite differently than those around me, or the reverse. Especially with good stories, we pull out that which is meaningful or apparent to us, others may not even see that theme. I'm thinking of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I find different themes or emotions each time I read them.

>8 jillmwo: Project completed, and reported on in my thread. Thank you for suggesting it!

SylviaC is the first to report back so she WINS the prize. Now the prize chiefly consists of bragging rights and an unquestioned sense of superiority to those who failed to complete the reading, but still you, @SylviaC, are awarded the PRIZE.

Oh, if you like, we can throw in a virtual sequined tiara with virtual velvet and ermine robe. There might also be a virtual throne, if I can remember where @MrsLee stored it after the last time it got used.

Ooooh, do you suppose @pgmcc might bow as part of the award ceremony? @hfglen might do it as well, but I think he's off on vacation.

I'll be glad to contribute a virtual bow! Well done, Sylvia, and thanks again Jill for the idea. I haven't given up, just focusing on other things thru Bouchercon.

Psst! *The throne is in the room with the Roombas, help yourselves.*

Nicely done >53 SylviaC:, and nicely reported on as well.

Oooooo...with the Roombas.
Careful, girl. Dangerous territory. Best take a pool boy with you.

Ooh! Thank you! Thank you, all! The virtual robe will come in handy in the winter. I can wrap myself up in it, and pretend to be warm. I'll pass on the tiara, because sequins would get virtually tangled in my hair. I'm not going near the Roombas, so I'll just sit and read on my own throne over there in the euphemism.

And @Jim53, thank you for the virtual bow. I do like to see a well-executed bow!

One of my personal pet peeves is people who won't take the time to look up information for themselves. I'm talking about people who have information on their own computers but won't take the time to run a quick search for it. I'm talking about people who would rather pick up a phone and waste the time of the poor person at the other end of the line, rather than stop, think and then go out on the Internet to check a corporate web site.

It's one thing if you really don't know where to begin to look. I'll help you out all I can in that situation (as will any librarian worth her salt). But those folks who are just too lazy to use the information resources available to them because they think it's easier to ask than to do the search themselves? Those folks make me nuts. Totally, freakin' nuts!

These folks belong in the same circle of Dante's Inferno as the folks who don't read all the words in an email message and then screw something up because they didn't read all the words in an email!

This has been a public service rant.

BTW, when I make reference to "the other end of the line" (meaning the phone line), does that usage suggest that I'm old or otherwise past my sell-by date? Of course, many of you are as old as I am so it might not say that to you. Any young whippersnappers lurking about who have an opinion?

I'm not old, I'm just really, really grumpy.

>59 jillmwo: Any young whippersnappers lurking about who have an opinion?

@jillmwo, young whippersnappers do not have opinions. They have certainty.

As Oscar Wilde once said, "I am not young enough to know everything".

> 59

Some of us are old and grumpy.

"You kids get off my lawn!"

>61 suitable1: But that squirrel photo on your profile page makes you look so young!!

>60 pgmcc: Yet I'm certain that people who don't make use of the information resources available to them are idiots. Aren't you? Great quote from Oscar Wilde, by the way, I envy people like you who can pull up the apt quote as necessary without having to resort to Bartlett's..

>62 jillmwo:
That's an old picture.

Just sent a friend home with three books from my collection: Song of the Beast, Devoured, and The Hunchback Assignments. Told her she can keep or pass along to her crowd of sf/mystery fans.

Posted so that I can remember where those books went...

>54 jillmwo: Depends on when the ceremony is. Where I am now it's advisable to look out for SPITTING COBRAS before bowing.

Odd. Usually they're well-behaved during these more formal events.

For the record, we accept back dated bows, @hfglen!

I was investigating a bookshelf upstairs this afternoon. As a result, I found a book that I'd been looking for about a month ago, could not FIND, assumed I had passed off to Goodwill in error, deleted the entry from my LT collection, then went out and purchased a SECOND copy (because of course it turned out I needed to consult it for something.) and input it into LT a SECOND TIME.

And then today I find the wretched ORIGINAL copy upstairs. The duplicate copy is in a box (yes, I checked) downstairs. No mistaking one for the other because one copy is pristine and the other is a former library copy.

Three are 3 explanations for this. Either the books are replicating and moving about through some Dr. Who time portal thing -- just to make me nuts. Or the LT thugs have come up with this approach to ensure that I understand that there are consequences associated with blowing off one's Thingaversary and forgetting to buy the requisite number of titles. The third explanation is just that things are entirely out of control.

Guess which explanation is the most likely? *heavy sigh*

Guess which explanation is the most likely?

LT thugs?

I said that they would rearrange your books.

I expect it's really the Dr. Who time portal thing - seems very likely to me, anyway. It just wasn't there when you looked before.

I vote for the time portal too. You haven't said you've seen the books side by side. It could well be the same copy, just at a different stage of its existence. (You need a "read but no longer own" category, I think.) Let us know if you do find a portal that makes old and used things look pristine. I'll bet someone volunteers to jump into it experimentally. Just in the interests of science, of course.

>70 NorthernStar: >71 Meredy: might the LT thugs have access to a time portal? I... actually, I sort of wish I hadn't thought of that. Let's not tell @pgmcc in case he gets ideas.

>72 imyril: what was that you were saying?

>73 pgmcc: getting a bit chilly at night now, isn't it? ;)

>74 imyril: Indeed!

>67 jillmwo:, you do realise that those options are not mutually exclusive?

SAFETY NOTICE:
It would be prudent not to attempt to place your two copies of the same book together. In the event that they are the same book but at different stages in their/its own timeline one could be risking a disastrous, cataclysmic disruption to the time-space continuum by placing the two versions of the one book in juxtaposition thereby creating a temporal and spatial paradox anomaly.

So, then, the only thing to do is to give away the old book for real, and then look quick and see if the new one has disappeared.

This is assuming that the old copy does not contain your marginalia. You wouldn't part with it then, would you?

>77 Meredy: My mother would have beaten me if I had written in my books. Not to mention all those professional colleagues who protect pristine copies held in collections of all sorts. The most I ever did was use yellow highlighter in textbooks back in college. Why else would I have notes from my reading over the years, stacked up in boxes upstairs and down in this house. When I die, my children will wonder what the heck I was doing or thinking. One of the things I want to do before I die is tuck a note inside the books I own explaining why in the name of sense I held on to it for so long. I don't know if they'll view it as a useful legacy -- most likely not. But I'll have left a bit of myself behind. My fantasy is that in another seventy or hundred years, such notes will be deemed rare and unusual (worthy of preservation) and those too will find their way into libraries of historical documentation. In such fashion, did an eccentric woman live an ordinary life back in the late twentieth & early twenty-first centuries.

I have been spending time re-reading and re-engaging Lady Susan this week. She is my favorite wicked female from all of Austen's characters. I'm working up an essay on it. Do you realize that woman would have been flirting with men while wearing full mourning for a husband in the grave for less than six months? Black gloves, jet jewelry, the works, all while mentally totting up the value of an entailed estate!

I'd much rather do something in that vein than ordinary office work these days. (Write literary essays, I mean. Not raise eyebrows by being a flirt or a fortune-hunter.)

>78 jillmwo: Keeping books clean was hammered into me as a child, too: respect for books was a major value in our household, coming as I did from a large family of teachers and preachers. Same at school, where all textbooks were issued from school stock at the start of the year and then inspected upon their return at the end. Making any marks at all was practically a criminal offense.

But I saw that my father wrote in his books with impunity. They were his own copies, and he annotated them in pencil as he read and reread them, both the ones he was teaching and the ones he was studying. Sometimes, sitting on the arm of the big gray upholstered chair in the living room, I watched over his shoulder as he did it, and he explained his symbols to me.

Once I had my own textbooks (beginning in college) I learned to mark my own in a meaningful way, and for decades now I have freely annotated most of my reading matter. Not only does the habit help me grasp and retain the material, especially when it's nonfiction, but it also makes for an interesting record, and sometimes a study in contrasts, when I return to it. It's also where I carry out vigorous arguments with the author.

When I look at books that used to belong to one of my parents, both now deceased, I just love finding their notations. It's almost like hearing their voices in the kinds of conversations that I most pleasurably recall from my childhood.

The public library here takes part in a project in which teenagers are given ARCs of YA books, and are told to write in them. My son is participating for the second year. He is given a book, has a few weeks to read it and make notes, then it is passed on to someone else, and he gets a new one. Each book cycles through three readers, and they get to keep the last one. It is pretty cool to see all the different notes.

Growing up in the military, in order to keep the weight of household goods down to a reasonable level for purposes of moving from one post to the next, we used the local library a great deal. It was a HUGE deal to go out on birthdays to buy books. (I still have one of the three books I purchased for my tenth or eleventh birthday.) But if you're borrowing books, you haven't the right to mark them up.

That said, I really enjoyed the novel S. last year, a sub-plot of which appears in handwriting in the margins. It's wonderful. So I can understand the joy of following commentary from others in marginalia. I just can't bring myself to create it.

There is a portion of the publishing world working at building in annotation of digital texts. So you can have it both ways (until you try to extract more than 25% of a work...)

>78 jillmwo: I too prefer not to annotate my books, but I would love to find notes like those you propose leaving for your loved ones.

FYI: I'll be travelling and therefore will be away from the keyboard for 48-72 hours. Back eventually. Cross your fingers on my behalf. I have to be *nice* to people. (Like on a face-to-face basis in real time. Very stressful...)

Oh dear. Give yourself time-outs alone to regroup.

I am wondering if it is time for Jill to return? I've enjoyed the conversation about writing in books. I have done a lot of it, underlining, highlighting, writing, circling, and drawing pictures, exclamation points, and question marks. I love owning my books. And then, drum roll, I found it was time to reduce the number of books to move into my new smaller, economical, 55+, digs. I love my new place, and am slowly putting up the pictures to make it feel like home. I need to go get some boxes of books from storage so I will really feel like it is home.

p.s. underlining, etc. in books makes them nearly impossible to sell to the used book stores. Sigh.

I'm here, @maggie1944. I've been swamped with work so any presence here has been confined to one-liners. Reading's been minimal.

Actually, let me modify that last statement about reading being minimal. I have been reading but not with any eye to reviews. I read a short novella Shadows for Silence in the Forests of Hell from Brandon Sanderson that someone around here recommended (ah, yes it was @pwaites who referenced it as a relatively short read). I remember that I read it while my plane was sitting on the tarmac at O'Hare. Then one night this week, irritated and weary, I read Cotillion by Georgette Heyer because I needed something light and frothy and utterly unrelated to real life. (It later happened to be the basis of one of those strange coincidences recently when you're speaking very generally about scenes in books and two people happen to describe the very same scene in the very same book, which they both happened to be reading independently on the very same night. Very spooky because her tastes and mine don't often coincide.)

Oh, and two chapters out of A companion to Jane Austen Studies.

Oh, just one bit more -- this afternoon, I actually baked a Northumbrian recipe for seed cake. (Someone should remind me that I need to pick up flour and vanilla extract next week at the grocery store.)

What kind of seeds go in a seed cake?

>89 SylviaC: Cardamom seeds. Also two whole sticks of butter, four eggs, a splash of milk, two cups of flour and a smattering of spice (nutmeg in the recipe I was drawing from). I expect Bombur and his friends to show up on the door mat at any point.

I don't think I've ever eaten cardamom seeds. The two sticks of butter would preclude experimentation with that particular recipe, though. I'm afraid I wouldn't make a very good dwarf (or hobbit) anymore.

I have a *different* recipe that calls for only one stick of butter, if you think that would be useful...And the cardamom seeds are distinctive in the cake, but not overwhelming. Clearly, this was something intended to go with either tea or coffee.

No caraway seeds? That's the kind I've usually run across. I just had some seedcake at a historical fiction writers retreat last weekend.

>91 SylviaC: and >93 Marissa_Doyle: OMG, you two! I just went to check what the recipe said and apparently I muddled the two (caraway and cardamom). The seed cake was supposed to be caraway, but I must have grabbed the wrong one. (Start giggling and pointing now...) See what happens when one is awoken at 3am in the morning? Words don't process correctly. And it wasn't Northumbrian -- it was Northamptonshire.

On the other hand, the cake tastes just fine....

Well, I think cardamom is used fairly extensively in a lot of Scandinavian baked goods, so I'm sure it was fine. Maybe next time try both? ;)

Mmmm, cardamom would be my preference, I'm sure! My daughter makes some cardamom rolls that are to die for. They melt in your mouth and make you believe in heaven.

Psst* Jillmwo, remember flour and vanilla on your next trip to the store.

Chances are, I'd prefer the cardamom. My mother used to put caraway seeds in her pound cake, and I didn't like them at all—why ruin a perfectly good pound cake with seeds that look like bugs?

>97 SylviaC: Oh, my. I wouldn't want anything to interfere with the heavenly texture of pound cake. That's almost tragic.

>98 Meredy: It blighted my youth. Fortunately, she occasionally made it without the caraway, so I was still able to appreciate the finer things in life.

>99 SylviaC: It's amazing how normal you seem today.

Embracing distraction from my day job, I'm posting this advice on how to do a "Readcation" (http://bookriot.com/2015/10/15/taking-a-readcation/) which is an extended version of what you need for a Do-Nothing-But-Read day.

>101 jillmwo: That sounds lovely. The only way it would happen for me is if I were the one who went away. My husband never goes away, and now there is my mom too, and if I stayed at home I would see all the chores which need doing and guilt would ruin it. One of these days.

>101 jillmwo: Sounds good but making it happen is the real problem. Getting people out of the house would be the trick. I find I get virtually nothing read at the weekends because of interaction with other people, people I love dearly, but they seldom give me a chance to read.

*go to the library?*

>104 maggie1944: I like your idea the best. Getting away from the house to a different and possibly more conducive environment, because as >102 MrsLee: and >103 pgmcc: point out, one's spouse and family still pop up now and again and there are all those regular distractions/obligations sitting there, giving you the eye.

On the other hand, I really have been happiest this week when slipping in a chapter of criticism of Jane Austen and fitting it into research for an article (that has no real chance of seeing light unless I self publish.) But it eliminates boredom and I like feeling smart when it turns out I've seen something that a more erudite academic confirms.

>104 maggie1944: >105 jillmwo:
I like the idea of the librarycation but I fear my taking out cheese and opening a bottle of wine may not be regarded as best library behaviour. As for changing into comfy slippers and putting my feed up on a convenient chair... Wel, I'm sure you can see the possible pitfalls.

I will just have to get rid of the family. Perhaps my book of stories by Thomas Ligotti can help me with some ideas.

I was a bit bewildered by a Northumbrian cardamom seed cake, but it has made me think two things: firstly, that i now need to consider a more traditionally Northumbrian seed; and secondly, I'dlike to try cardamom seed cake regardless!

I think taking the slippers out of my big bag, along with opening a good book, would be excellent library behavior. Good modeling for those too young to be smart that way...we can do whatever we want.

>108 maggie1944: I agree, but you did not address the issue of wine and cheese in the library. Perhaps these are not significant in your list of priorities, but there are those of us for whom they many be important, especially in the company of a good book.

Love the images conjured up as I read your comments!

I've started reading The Dead Duke, His Secret Wife, and the Missing Corpse and while it's been interesting, it's not been as satisfying a read as I'd hoped. I have a fondness of the British and their eccentric aristocrats. They tend to do weird and wonderful things with country house architecture and apparently the master of Warbeck Abbey was a particularly active man in that regard, so much they called him the "Burrowing Duke".

In other news, I made a chocolate cake today. It's not wine and cheese, but a slice of cake topped off with whipped cream can make up for a number of life's disappointments. (Dinner was meatball stroganoff.)

Oh poo. I was eyeing that one. I loved Secret Rooms which was kinda similar.

I was looking for something very similar to Black Diamonds which was all about the Fitzwilliam dynasty and the battles over their family legacy as seen through the successive owners of Wentworth House. And this is not quite at that level. I'm not more than half-way through so I won't try to diagnose the problem other than to say that this is more about sordid money-grubbing by fortune hunters as well as seemingly duplicitous behavior on the part of family members (who may or may not be half-mad in the first place).

I think what I'm saying, @Bookmarque, is that you might not want to give up on it just yet. I think I am going to keep going.

I am embarking on reading The Monk by Mattew Lewis. (Blame @pgmcc.). A lovely used copy -- published originally by the Folio Society -- arrived today and I have finished the first chapter. Everyone needs a certain amount of Gothic reading in the darkening days of autumn. I'm calling it research as I am reading it in the context of Jane Austen and the various influences that played a part in the popular culture of Georgian England. I can't imagine a polite young woman of the time being permitted to read The Monk although I can believe there might have been a parent raising an eyebrow if a young man were to be caught reading it.

Of course, I also have to finish The Keeper of Lost Causes before next Monday when I'm supposed to be discussing it with the Library book group. (It is described as being darkly humorous, propulsive and atmospheric which makes it sound as if there's a certain commonality with Lewis' book.)

Ooh, The Monk was pretty juicy stuff for the time. Please do report back. I have a nice early twentieth century copy of The Castle of Otranto that I should actually sit down and read one day.

>114 jillmwo: Welcome to the dark side!

I just wanted to update @Bookmarque on the title, The Dead Duke, His Secret Wife, and The Missing Corpse by Piu Marie Eatwell. I had thought it was my personal mindset/mood that might be preventing me from enjoying the book, but I regret to say that's not the case. It's a book that at best should have been a magazine article. Just too much padding for me to feel that I can recommend it.

The past work week was not really conducive to much reading. Too much stress; too many nights in a row of waking up at 4am. However, I'm enjoying The Monk and as noted above in #114, I really have to finish the very Scandinavian noir novel, The Keeper of Lost Causes before Monday night's Library Book Group.

By the way, has anyone read Val McDermid's updated version of Northanger Abbey?

>117 jillmwo: I have been having a similar work week with 3am being my waking up time. I am glad you are enjoying The Monk. I look forward to your comments on it.

I guess what I'm trying to decide is whether the issue is age, stress, or some other element (such as insufficient exercise). Harrumph.

Somebody get those kids off of my lawn.

Our clocks go back an hour tonight so when I wake at 3 it will only be 2. :-)

We do that next week. Nov 1 into Nov 2. See, the global community can't even make that shift in a uniform and simultaneous basis. Double Harrumph.

If you have to wake up early for too many weeks, yea years, then your internal clock resets. I am now falling to sleep in the evening at about 8, and waking up at about 4. Sigh. I need to have more active evening social life.

Thanks for taking a bullet for me!

Jill, I'm sharing your curmudgeonly feelings this week. Next week will be better.

Just an update for those of you into British Fantasy: http://www.tor.com/2015/10/26/bitish-fiction-focus-2015-british-fantasy-award-wi... Note that the full roster of nominees is here: http://www.britishfantasysociety.org/british-fantasy-awards/british-fantasy-awar...

Just add one or two to the TBR pile now and maybe we'll get around to it by the end of 2016 or 2017.

>125 jillmwo: Great to see Frances Hardinge winning such a prestigious award. I've been really impressed by the novels that I've read of hers, and Cuckoo song is on Mount Tbr. I'd recommend Fly by night and its sequel to anyone who loved Joan Aiken's Dido Twite books.

Okay, we need to keep an eye on @pgmcc. He recommended Matt Lewis’s The Monk and trusting that man with his Irish charm, I decided to give it a whirl. Wait ‘til you hear…

This is one of those titles that one recognizes as being a kind of lesser classic. Back in the days when Borders was a thriving bookstore, you could find this obscure work still in print and, based on my Google searching, it continues to be regularly included on college syllabi having to do with Gothic literature. At the same time, that print edition you might have found in Borders was never one of the well-designed or well-marketed print volumes; it was always a bit “off” either in terms of font or trim size. Not really a main-stream title, but still available to the occasional student/scholar/nerd who sought it out.

I was one of those customers who would pull it off the shelf at Borders (based on the name recognition) but the cut-rate packaging would always put me off. It was a known Gothic novel, and having scared myself silly once reading Dracula, I always hesitate to read such things. I mutter a quote from Robert Burns -- From ghosties and ghoulies and long-leggedy beasties and things that go bump in the night -- and move on. But equipped with a beautiful Folio Society edition (readable type, lovely paper stock, classy binding), I settled in to read this one.

The first thing one needs to know about this is that it’s the output of a nineteen year old male from 18th century England.(Attitudes about the two sexes and about sexual matters have changed.) There’s more than a little bit of hormonal influence here. Two chapters in, the reader easily figures out that this is a book about sexual attraction and appetites. It’s not shocking. It’s actually not even titillating. It is however one of those books where you want to yell at those innocent characters on the page that they shouldn’t go into the dark forest, crypt, or cavern alone because you know it’s not safe. I had thought I’d be able to just dismiss the novel as silly, but that wasn't at all my response to the reading. Instead, I frowned at my husband when he wanted to leave Panera this morning before I’d finished my chapter. The book is somewhat alarming on the basis of the imagined world and its inhabitants, but it is equally somewhat compelling. But again, I didn't think of the book as silly or as being overblown. It struck me as a vehicle; there are some good bits where Lewis allows his own voice to emerge. There is a fun segment where two characters talk about the plight of an author/poet and in my edition's Chapter Six, there is some interesting analysis of what drives Ambrosio. (He ought not to have been a monk, but rather a general.)

This is very much a product of its time. We have gypsies telling fortunes, we have bandits in the forest threatening travelers’ lives, we have ghosts (The Bleeding Nun) and we have instances of calling up Fallen Angels (Lucifer, even)! There are young women in immediate threat of being ravished. Startled out of my analytical thinking, I found I continued reading just to find out what the heck would happen next. Oh, did I mention the underground caverns and putrefying flesh? Keep reading. Dangers include both demon lovers and blood-thirsty, avenging mobs. There are narratives within narratives, and modern repercussions felt from long-ago actions. Still I don't think it reads as an immature, kitchen-sink kind of novel.

As to theme, you can say that The Monk is about the evils of allowing the young to remain ignorant of sexual appetites or underestimate the power of sexual impulse. (In which case, I give full points to the nineteen-year-old male author capable of working that out.) It's also about how misunderstood may be the behavioral signals sent between men and women in matters of attraction.

As I’d mentioned above, one has to wonder who was allowed to read this novel at its initial publication. Having recently been reading and thinking about Jane Austen’s Lady Susan (one of her “betweenities” composed after the childhood juvenilia, but before the mature, full-length novels), I wondered whether Jane Austen would have even been permitted to read this book and whether the composition of Lady Susan could possibly be a teenage reaction to Lewis’ novel. There were some very real parallels that made me kind of sit up and take notice and move more slowly through the novel than I might ordinarily have done. (Predators of both genders appear in The Monk and Lady Susan is frankly a more realistic, literary presentation of one such predator.)

And that’s kind of why I am wondering as well about this book appearing on the academic syllabus. It belongs in the study of the Gothic, and it belongs in the study of human psychological behaviors. But I imagine this is also the kind of book that requires trigger warnings when assigned in the classroom. A younger generation that associates the song “Baby, it’s cold outside” with date rape would not find this novel an amusing or light read. I would say that this does have moments of humor just as @pgmcc said. I just don't think the young -- who are always more likely to take things literally -- will find the humor an adequate offset to concerns about obvious sexual assault.

Because I'd read it in such close conjunction with a re-read of Lady Susan, I could maintain a certain distance. There were still moments when I stopped reading. There is a discussion with regard to Gothic literature in terms of what is the difference between terror and horror when in the hands of an author. Terror is when one fears some harm occurring to oneself. Horror is when one fears some harm coming to another being with whom one feels a connection.

Follow up on The Keeper of Lost Causes by Jussi Adler-Olsen. I was surprised but the women who showed up for last Monday's library book group found this title to also be compelling. For those of you into contemporary mystery thrillers, this was originally published in either Denmark or Finland back in 2007. The title provided here is the one used for marketing sales in the US; in the UK, the title was Mercy. In the original language, the title was The Woman in the Cage.

The main crux of this thriller is several characters who each undergo a traumatic life-threatening experience. One is in the very midst of it, one is working his way back, and the third ( the only one who can offer any charm) has come through his experience and acts as something of a guide to the main male detective. I can recommend this one if you're in to that kind of tale, but I hope you'll forgive my personal lack of enthusiasm. The book is well-done, the characters are distinctive and memorable, but this really does qualify as Nordic Noir (yes, that's a real thing). I'm passing it on along to a friend who loves dark Scandinavian crime novels; I'm just more for the milder British country house slaying. I did think it was interesting that, although the group enjoyed and talked about the book enthusiastically, none of them wanted to read another by this author. How is one to interpret that?

(I am concerned that this means I have to include more darkly horrifying titles on the library mystery book group reading list in 2016. These aren't the sweet retirees of ten years ago; the current group is looking for more than soothing lightweight Agatha Christie titles. They are perfectly willing to go with the convincing grittier novel.)

>127 jillmwo:

It must be remembered that while Lewis was only nineteen when he wrote The Monk he was working in the British embassy in The Hague having already qualified with his Bachelor's and Master's degrees from Oxford. Given the presence of virtually every trope of the Gothic in the story his novel could be considered as a huge parody of the genre. A more serious interpretation of it, and one that is well studied and discussed in Gothic studies, is the socio-political aspect of the novel being written as sectarian propaganda with the Protestant English author writing a novel that demonises Catholic Europe by showing the risks associated with a celibate clergy, risks that have proven to be horribly prescient in recent decades, and the perceived influence of the Catholic Church on the populace and how the populace is under the spell of the Church.

When the book was written tensions where high between the Protestant countries of Northern Europe, including England, and the Catholic Southern European countries, such as France, Spain and Italy.

The original edition was criticised as being blasphemous and Lewis reissued the book having removed the offending scenes/comments.

@jillmwo, do you know if the Folio edition was based on the original edition or one of the later ones?

The copyright page indicates that the Folio Society has used the text of the first edition published in 1796. Those portions which had been deemed sufficiently lewd or pornographic (and subsequently excised from later editions) were noted in the Introduction and all appear in the text I read.

What titles do you think Lewis might be parodying in The Monk? I hadn't thought the Gothic novel in the late eighteenth century was so developed as to invite that treatment, although now having re-read the Introduction, it does suggest that Lewis was influenced by the German Romantic movement which preceded the English Romantic period, I suppose. (I've no firm handle on it and it sounds as if you, @pgmcc, are more familiar with the period.)

I agree that the Church as it appears here is portrayed as an institution primarily operating through repression. But I honestly didn't read the novel as a diatribe against the institutional church. I absorbed instead the author's deep distrust of the two power-hungry figures of Mother St. Agatha and Ambrosio simply because they held authority over others and used it to their own advantage. Lewis makes a point of condemning the abbot who didn't encourage Ambrosio to explore the world before he was committed to life vows in the Order. And that was the parallel I thought with the young couple of Lorenzo and Antonia as well as Raymond and Agnes. Those in authority determined the direction of the young people's lives rather than permitting the individuals to do so themselves. And Lewis blames the lack of education of the young as being the reason that authority figures manage to so successfully restrict individual autonomy.

One note that I thought was interesting. Again, according to the Folio Society's Introduction, the scene of the mob burning out the convent is supposedly based on what was known of mob riots during the French Revolution. And the same Introduction notes the echoes of Shakespeare in Lewis' novel -- figures from Romeo and Juliet as well as Macbeth. And of course, there are connections between Faust and Ambrosio.

Of course, this was just my first reading of the novel. I really was more focused on trying to fit this novel into what Jane Austen would have known from her reading and perhaps reacted to, while framing Lady Susan. She makes reference to The Monk in Northanger Abbey. It's not an extensive reference, but I did wonder if she'd ever have been encouraged to read it. Her father seems to have been open to allowing her broad access to his library. On the other hand, if it was really deemed lewd and/or pornographic...

The Monk was written in 1794 and published in 1796. This was a very active time for animosity between England and France. The French Revolution had started and the English were afraid the French would invade England. Their big fear was French troops invading via Ireland. In 1795 there was an attempted invasion when Wolfe Tone arrived on the South West coast of Ireland with a French expeditionary force but bad weather prevented the force landing.

In 1798 a French force landed in Ireland in support of the 1798 rising by the United Irishmen.

England was very sensitive to the risk of a French invasion and started a programme of fortifying the coasts with Martello Towers which can still be visited today. James Joyce lived in a Martello Tower in South Dublin for a while.

My point here is that Lewis's readership would have been well aware of the threat from France and the risk of a French force landing in Ireland to support the United Irishmen, as well as threatening England itself and also the territories of England's northern European Protestant allies.

Quick discussion of Benedict Cumberbatch in this year's National Theatre's Hamlet which we saw today via filmed recording (via ntlive; visit: http://ntlive.nationaltheatre.org.uk/). It was a great production, I must say. Cumberbatch does a nicely controlled Hamlet, much more so than either Tennant or Brannagh did in theirs. The Gertrude was "meh" and the Ophelia utterly forgettable. However, the eye-opener was Ciaran Hinds as Claudius. His was without question the best Claudius I've ever seen, better than Patrick Stewart and far better than some of the others (even Derek Jacobi as Claudius). Just excellent in the role. I really do recommend seeing this one if you have the opportunity.

>132 jillmwo: Thanks for that notice, Jill. I'll certainly watch for a chance to see this.

I thought the Tennant-Stewart version was marred by a perfectly horrid Ophelia (made even worse by the costume). No doubt it's a hard role to interpret in a way that seems at all natural, don't you think? And to do it in a very stylized fashion would probably be jarring in a production that otherwise follows contemporary theatrical conventions. But I don't know what an actor or director might say about it.

Another tidbit from my work reading this am about the need to improve the reading experience of e-books:

The truth is that there exists a wide variety of readers who want to read in a wide variety of ways. And there is work to do in navigation, annotation and presentation to address readers’ needs. Real typographic innovation in digital reading isn’t possible until robust hyphenation dictionaries are built in to the rendering engines. The reading ecosystems should pick up and render the rich navigational possibilities of EPUB3—a table of contents in addition to Landmarks and Page-List. A clear focus on user interaction with any content—notes, bookmarks, annotations, even scribbles!—has gone backwards since the high of the now-defunct Readmill app. Making these notes searchable, indexable, and shareable is fundamental to a healthy reading ecosystem.

And that quote is followed a few lines later by this: Containers do matter. But don’t undermine the content. And most importantly, just read.

Full text available at: http://www.digitalbookworld.com/2015/who-cares-how-you-read-just-read/

>133 Meredy: I can't even *remember* Ophelia from the Tennant-Stewart version. Whoever she was, her performance didn't leave any kind of impression on me. On the other hand, I recall that I liked very much the actress who played Gertrude in that version. (No time to go look it up. Am supposed to be working for a living!)

>131 pgmcc: Thank you for linking to that explanation about the Martello Towers. I had seen pictures of such structures but hadn't realized that they merited their own name. I had always just thought of them as those short, circular castles.

Today's Foolish Angst

I have to write a brief essay on my "Best Book" recommendation for 2015 by November 30 (three weeks from now). While the blog-runner hasn't too many rules, he does prefer that for this one, we name some front list title actually published in the current year. This has gotten me going back over the 2015 reading thread(s) here on LT. Thankfully, I realized today that I had unwittingly maintained something of a thematic aspect to my reading over the past four months or so. Amidst all my ordinary light reading, I had also read a number of titles by professional literary essayists (my dream job). I discovered Michael Dirda (see Browsings) and John Carey (The Unexpected Professor) this year. I have been dipping into essays by Max Beerbohm -- The Prince of Minor Writers: The Selected Essays of Max Beerbohm -- but he's a bit purple for my taste.

At any rate, I'm deeply relieved by this realization of consistency in my behavior. I can write 250-300 words with that as the unifying thread. I always am a bit anxious about what I select for this particular blog post since it's to do with my industry role. I don't want to be too lightweight, too risque or even too intellectual in my selection because (and her voice drops into a whisper) what if they manage to figure out how peculiar I really am?

But Michael Dirda had Browsings published as a collection of essays in 2015, and I can honestly point to that while making a point about chunk-able content, and the importance of brevity.

Crisis averted. You can all go back to your own lives now. Or (alternatively) you could figure out what your own "best book" for the year was!

>131 pgmcc: There are also Martello Towers in Simonstown (Cape Peninsula) and, obscurely, Fort Beaufort (Eastern Cape, way inland) that I can think of offhand. Both are presently used as museums, and visitable.

>137 jillmwo: It's a tough call. I've got half a dozen 4.5 star books but no fives this year (yet!).

Just added a bunch of titles to the catalog here, because I had apparently overlooked doing so before. I added those as well that were brand new acquisitions. Binged a bit this past week on ordering books (for no good reason -- just impulse and a feeling that I've been too conservative in my reading selections. Why, yes, Jill! Now that you mention it, there have been books published since you were born. In fact, there were even some published just this past week!)

Except for George R.R. Martin

>137 jillmwo: I'd find that a very tough task. I do have some fives so far this year--more than usual, in fact--but none of them is for recent work. Two are more than a century old; the youngest is Corelli's Mandolin, from 1994. In your place I'd probably be writing an essay either about (a) what was really worth a 5 (George Eliot, Nevil Shute) and why it's still a good read today, or (b) why I couldn't give 5s to anything I'd read from this year's crop.

Good luck with your essay. Do we get to see it?

>142 Meredy: Meredy, I'll direct you to the URL when it gets published. Here's last year's "Best Book".
http://scholarlykitchen.sspnet.org/2014/12/04/chefs-selections-the-best-books-re... My entry is the second one in that collaboratively assembled column.

Meanwhile, it's 3 in the afternoon on Saturday, and I've been awake since about 3am this morning. I'm just a bit bleary-eyed. However, we did do groceries, a run to Staples, and a run to the bank to make a deposit. Dinner made it into the crock pot about an hour ago. I think I'm entitled to a bit of reading. I think it was @Sakerfalcon and @imyril talking about The Little Princess earlier this week that caused me to take down a book of essays done in celebration of her work. In the Garden: Essays in honor of Frances Hodgson Burnett is sadly given over more to her three quite well known children's works than on those she wrote for adults, but there is a nice chapter on The Making of a Marchioness and another chapter about her country house, Maytham, which I must go look up. Apparently some of what she wrote about in The Shuttle as well as in The Secret Garden is tied to her love for this house. BTW, @pgmcc, apparently Frances Hodgson Burnett was a good friend of Henry James and most interestingly, her books sold more successfully in their lifetimes than did his.

Also, I've got a lovely mystery, Jade Dragon Mountain sitting beside me on the couch, and was it @MrsLee talking about Georgette Heyer's The Unfinished Clue? (Yes, as it happens, that title was sitting upstairs in the Heyer section of the bookshelf.) So I'm going to drink a little bit more coffee to ensure I'm awake and then I'm going to go read.

>143 jillmwo: Well that's just not fair! I wasn't even the one talking about The Unfinished Clue, and you STILL hit me with a book bullet for Jade Dragon Mountain. *flounces over to her reading chair*

>144 MrsLee:

Flounces? Sounds like your foot problem is much better.

*flounces with a limp* ;) Thank you, it is better though.

>143 jillmwo:, >144 MrsLee: Hit me with Jade Dragon Mountain too. The review by @Limelite on the book page was no bullet, though. It was a blow from a sledgehammer after your bullet had already brought me down.

>143 jillmwo: I think I took one here too. If you can't have a Catholic astronomer, a Jesuit is the next best thing. Fortunately, this one goes on my virtual Mount Tooby at the library; the real one will probably tumble over with another addition.

I got this book in my 2014 Thingaversary celebratory buying-binge. The List Lover’s Guide to Jane Austen is a foolish kind of publication. Just as it says “on the tin”, this is a series of bullet lists and timelines. There’s the timeline of her life, a timeline of where she lived and traveled, a (very short) list of England’s monarchs while Austen was alive, a very long list of all the characters in order of appearance in her six novels. (Emma appears to have the largest cast in that category). More as well that I won't list here. (Tee, hee. See what I did there?)

I seem to recall that the reason I actually decided to buy this book had to do with the list of literary allusions appearing in Austen’s novels. Unfortunately, that list is particularly striking in its lack of detail. (I’m well aware that Austen quoted Scott’s Lady of the Lake. Could the party responsible for this list not have given some indication of the particular Canto?) And there are some “lists” that are just silly. Vicars who are not Heroes? That one had two names on it -- Collins and Elton. (Do two bullet points really constitute a list?)

On the other hand, one assumes there was some labor involved in assembling and organizing these lists and timelines. It's a product clearly aimed at all those Janeite enthusiasts who must be buying it because the silly thing is still in print and available for purchase on Amazon.!

Did the labor needed to compile these lists really justify the price of the book? I’m inclined to say “probably not” but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to get rid of this very minor reference work. There may come a day when I have a burning desire to know what flowers were in her garden and Google probably couldn't generate that list. (Or maybe it's just that I can't think how to properly construct the search query that would be necessary to get me there.)

BTW, the next book to buy in this category would be Say It Like Miss Austen: A Jane Austen Phrase Thesaurus. Yes, it's a real title on Amazon and proof that publishers must think fans will buy anything. (You all only get to mock me if you see I've purchased it for my 2016 Thingaversary.)

>144 MrsLee:, >145 suitable1:, >147 Meredy:, >148 Jim53:, I'd like to note that I only mentioned the title, Jade Dragon Mountain, in passing so if you got hit with a book bullet, I'm thinking you were leaping like gazelles in front of the on-coming projectile. I certainly can't be accused of taking aim.

>150 jillmwo: Just goes to prove how sly it was.

>150 jillmwo: That may be the last/first time in my life I ever leap like a gazelle. :P

It is good fun to *lurk here, so I'm de-lurking to say so! Happy Weekend!

>153 maggie1944: Happy weekend to you as well, my dear!

To further encourage leaping gazelles (see #150), I want to include a brief quote/writing sample from Jade Dragon Mountain:

As for the guests, they were drunk and charmed by Hamza's impudence. Each small irreverence they accepted increased their appetite for another, and with delighted giggles or exaggerated gasps of shock, they encouraged him. It was as if they were darting their fingers over a scorpion holding their hands in danger a little longer each time before snatching them away in excitement. The Emperor was six days away, but in the courtyard, inhaling the smoke of exotic incense and drinking cups of warming wine, they had forgotten all but their present surroundings. The bright moon was a slice in the black sky overhead and the morning seemed far away.

It's good, folks. A very nice debut and an intriguing cast of characters.

Because @Meredy had requested I notify the Pub when this went up:
http://scholarlykitchen.sspnet.org/2015/11/24/chefs-selections-the-best-books-re...

Edited to erase slightly indiscreet comment. This message now suitable for all potential viewers. Further edited to add recommendation that you read the entry below mine in that blog post. David Smith pays a *wonderful* tribute to Terry Pratchett.

>156 jillmwo: Thanks, Jill. Nice essay, succinct but not superficial. I picked up Phyllis Rose’s The Shelf: From LEQ to LES: Adventures in Extreme Reading on your recommendation but haven't got to it yet.

I've been incredibly slow at finishing books this year. It's disappointing to admit. Apparently the fastest I can go is one book per week and this year, it's been more like three weeks per book. I sigh when I note others who've managed to read more than 100 titles. (I've not even gotten to the point of counting up what I actually finished.) Keep an eye out for a review posted for Michael Dirda's On Conan Doyle. It'll be here later today.

>158 jillmwo: I know exactly how you feel.

>158 jillmwo: The only books I manage to speed through any more are ones which are written for that, such as the fast paced Dresden files, the scifi Bujold novels and light mysteries. I notice your reading choices aren't exactly light stuff. :) Nothing wrong with slow reading. I have an idea that you seem to get twice as much out of what you read as I do.

I, too, an in the slow reading crowd this year. I'm trying hard not to care. I am just happy to be reading what I'm reading, and I'll let go of all the "wanting to be with the crowd" feelings. I'll just be me, and post however many I actually am able to finish reading, and writing small comments.

End of worry.

The promised review of On Conan Doyle

The problem with modern life, she said, addressing her readers in something of a pompous, didactic tone, is that there are inadequate time blocks that may be allocated to really enjoying an immersive reading experience. Modern life is fragmented by meal preparation, scheduled and unscheduled phone calls, meetings, excursions to the doctor’’s office, and similar disruptions. My solution to this problem is to embrace works of brevity. I’m big on brevity (in a perfect world, something right around 200 pages). In 2015, I discovered Michael Dirda’s writing when I purchased in off-handed manner, Browsings, a collection of his short essays. My selection criteria for leisure reading in 2015 was (A) was it short, (B) was it intelligible and therefore more readily retained, and (c) did it offer me something of substance to think about or engage with? (I need @Meredy to punctuate that sentence for me.) For me, at any rate, light and companionable writing about good books can be a great reliever of stress. Dirda (with a Ph.D. from Cornell in comparative literature) has proven in his years of working for the Washington Post that this type of writing is his forte.

What I read most recently was Dirda’s On Conan Doyle, part of the Princeton University Press’ series, Writers on Writing. In this short/longer work of 45,000 words, the author is persuasive that Doyle deserves to be remembered for more than Sherlock Holmes. From his boyhood, Dirda has been almost as much a fan of characters like Professor Challenger and Brigadier Gerard as he has been of Holmes. (Dirda has been invested into the Baker Street Irregulars (BSI), going by the sobriquet of Langdale Pike since 2002.) His enthusiasm for his subject is infectious. I went so far as to download Through The Magic Door simply on the basis of the bits quoted by Dirda. In that work, Conan Doyle discusses the books he’s loved and learned to value. But for Dirda, I never would have known of it.

Dirda also notes Doyle’s productivity, churning out shorter novels such as A Study in Scarlet in the space of a week. He notes Doyle's adherence to the virtues -- not just what he aimed for in his writings such as Sir Nigel, but also in his insistence on chastity as his wife lay dying. (Doyle was assumed to be having an affair with a woman he'd later make his second wife while his first wife was still alive. (See Arthur and George by Julian Barnes.)

And then there are the sneaky pay-offs in Dirda’s writings. Dirda’s vocabulary is generally accessible; only occasionally does he use words like “ecdysiast” to characterize or identify someone’s profession. (The term is one coined by H.L. Mencken, an upscale noun for the low-end occupation of “stripper”) But that’s the joy of reading Dirda -- when he uses such vocabulary, it’s an opportunity to reward the careful reader’s curiosity. The curious reader Googles the term’s meaning, learns the details of its origin and shares a moment of delight with Dirda.

Doyle and Dirda -- a great pairing!

(1) First Postscript Note: Sorry for the delay in posting this, but I was wrestling with work life as well as the Thanksgiving disruptions and couldn't successfully boil down my response to something digestible...

(2) Second Postscript Note: Apparently this book won an Edgar Award in the non-fiction category. So the LT system tells me. Maybe that's why I bought it originally?

(Does one announce or admit defeat?). I don't know what I'll read between now and the end of the year, but I'm pretty sure that I won't be doing any reading of either particular novelty or depth. So, just in the interests of maintaining a record, I'm noting the titles that I *know* I read and finished during the past twelve months, followed by what I remember of various titles.

Amos Barton (a novella)
The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms
Shakespeare on Stage wherein I discovered Derek Jacobi suffered from serious stage fright for 3 full years
Poirot and Me (don't go there; not worth it)
Zipes translation of Grimm's Fairy Tales (Bad touchstone for this title, but made for a rather macabre read)
Complete Poirot Short Stories (Short stories were big for me this year)
Smallbone Deceased
The Accidental Diarist (academic, but interesting)
Fallen Women (again, not worth it; don't go there)
High Rising (follow-up read to Christmas at High Rising, which I really preferred of the two)
The Reluctant Widow
Shades of Milk and Honey
The Miniaturist
Pride, Prejudice and Popcorn (Kindle book that was a fun look at Jane Eyre, Pride & Prejudice and Wuthering Heights)
The Mysterious Mr. Quinn (short stories)
The Shelf ( @Meredy and I both liked this one.)
The Goblin Emperor (Generally approved throughout the Pub)
Miss Mole (wonderful domestic fiction and I think it was @SylviaC who recommended it.)
Curtain
Death on the Cherwell
Murder at Sissingham Hall
An Unexpected Professor (serendipitous surprise; originally bought in digital form for two bucks, but I went ahead and bought it in hard cover as well, just because I thought it was worth it.)
A Man Of Some Repute
Sacred Games (not particularly recommended)
Patience and Fortitude (I was gnashing my teeth by the end, due both to the subject matter as well as the way in which the author handled it.)
Quick Curtain
Lists (art book; see the first thread of mine for 2015, I think the review of this is the last entry on that thread)
Capital Crimes: London Mysteries edited by Martin Edwards (Short stories)
The Poisoned Chocolates Case
The Golden Age of Murder (see posted review over on the Scholarly Kitchen - see msg >156 jillmwo: above)
Who Killed Roger Ackroyd
Browsings (Discovered Michael Dirda's short essays!)
Guards, Guards!!
Venetia
Classics for Pleasure (more Dirda)
Book by Book (another volume of Dirda)
Growing Older with Jane Austen
The Hidden Hand
Green Smoke (charmed)
Song of the Beast
Shadows for Silence in the Forests of Hell (Kindle novella, read on the tarmac at O'Hare, had the virtue of a strong female protagonist.)
Cotillion
A Companion to Jane Austen Studies
The Monk (memorable Gothic read, and I owe the experience to @pgmcc. This is why I hang out here.)
The Keeper of Lost Causes
In the Garden: Essays in Honor of Frances Hodgson Burnett (Not too academic except for one or two essays that got very dry and/or arcane in the interpretation of her works.)
Jade Dragon Mountain
On Conan Doyle (fourth volume of Michael Dirda read during 2015)
Thirteen Guests

(1) The only promise I'm making to myself before I leave 2015 is that I'm going to finish Middlemarch! I got distracted, but I'm going back in.
(2) There were a few books that I read for purposes of work, but the most important one was undoubtedly Christine Borgman's excellent and enlightening Big Data, Little Data, No Data: Scholarship in the Networked World.
(3) I read a fair amount by and about Agatha Christie, in part because it was the running them throughout the library reading group selections for 2015. Satiated at this point, but the last book for the library this year is The Monogram Murders, a revival of Hercule Poirot. (Even though the author had conveniently and carefully killed him off, the handlers for the literary estate apparently felt a deep inner need to resurrect him.)

>163 jillmwo: I'm not sure what your defeat is supposed to be? It looks as though you have read some very good things which spurred your mental engines and found out some other things you didn't enjoy reading so much. Now you go forth into a new year with that much more tucked away in your brain. :) I know your reading thread has been one of the highlights of my pub browsing this year. Lively and intelligent conversation mixed with good humor and kindness. Who could ask for more?

>163 jillmwo: Jill, you and I have so much in common, and one of the things we have in common is that we haven't read any of the same books this year.

Well, not quite true. I just finished The Shelf: From LEQ to LES, which was probably on my list on account of you. But otherwise our Venn diagrams just don't intersect.

And I did finish Middlemarch! It languished for several months, but I came back to it and found that I remembered enough of what I needed to know, although I did turn out to be a little fuzzy about the town politics. So that was one goal completed.

I liked what Phyllis Rose said (in The Shelf) about goals (page 209): "Every goal, no matter how arbitrary, is an opportunity for satisfaction."

>163 jillmwo: Like @MrsLee, I enjoy your thread a great deal. Obviously @Meredy does too.

Meredy's last comment ( "Every goal, no matter how arbitrary, is an opportunity for satisfaction.") reminds me of a day when I took one of my team out for a congratulatory lunch. He had completed a major report for one of the Directors and the Director in question had sent me an e-mail praising my team member's work. I brought him to a Chinese restaurant and after we had ordered our meal I said,

"Well, Gilles. Life is a series of opportunities to fail. On this occasion you didn't fail. Well done!"

He was a bit stumped but he knows me well and after a few seconds he told me what to do with myself.

(That story is just to distract you all as I try to avoid being hit by The Shelf: from LEQ TO les book bullet.)

>163 jillmwo: that's quite a list. We read just one book in common this year (Smallbone Deceased). I see all sorts of others there that look intriguing. What were the two or three best?

@163 That is quite a respectable list, with a nice range of subjects and genres. I'm still intrigued by The Unexpected Professor, although I haven't actually tried to find it yet. It is always a pleasure to follow your reading adventures.

>164 MrsLee: I think the reason I'm dissatisfied with this year's reading is just because it was so clearly focused on titles that didn't entail much intellectual effort. I went for short and I went for fluff. I feel a bit disappointed in myself simply because I was so clearly not exerting myself or stretching my mind. (Reminds me of a line from Now Voyager when Dr. Jacquith, played by Claude Raines, alerts the heroine to her Puritan conscience running amok.)

And >165 Meredy:, I can't say that I had any significant goals for my reading in 2015, except for reading Middlemarch, but for whatever reason, I have this sense that I do some special LibraryThing read of some big title in December (like when I did the Hobbit) and that's not happening this month. Now I know I didn't do one in 2013 because of the big life events that year, but I hadn't anticipated changing jobs sucking up quite so much of my activity this year. (My last day of work on Friday began with emails going out at 5:30am and I didn't finally cut off the phone and Internet connection until some point between 3:30 and 4:00pm. Still the old boss can't complain that I was a slacker on my last day.) And I start up the new job on Wednesday. Really, I have today and tomorrow to pull Christmas together.

>166 pgmcc: Quit ducking! If getting hit with a book bullet is the worst thing that happens to you today, you're getting off easy. I think The Monk was one of your more effective book bullets.

Which brings me to >167 Jim53: That's a lovely question for you to ask. Of everything on that list, I'd recommend The Monk and Miss Mole for fiction, The Golden Age of Murder and The Unexpected Professor for non-fiction. For genre fiction leisure reading, I think I enjoyed Quick Curtain in the mystery category and The Goblin Emperor as best light reading. I read a LOT of Agatha Christie this year and I will say that she has a surprising amount of staying power; I think in the same way that we ought not to simply remember Doyle for Sherlock Holmes, we ought not to simply remember Christie for Poirot or dismiss her as not being sufficiently literary. She has a vibrant voice as an author and there are subtexts in her books that I think are overlooked.

>168 SylviaC: You're behaving like @pgmcc. I'm telling you to take that book bullet like a grown-up and go hunt down Carey's book. On the other hand, you do get full marks for completing the reading project about mysteries. Come to think of it, @pgmcc, aren't you still behind on some assignments?

(BTW, I'm really very fond of all of you.)

>169 jillmwo: You are correct: I am behind with some of my home work. Hopefully I shall catch up over the Christmas break.

I am rather fond of this post I wrote that went up this morning on the Scholarly Kitchen blog: http://scholarlykitchen.sspnet.org/2015/12/23/past-present-and-future-the-book-o.... It has to do with Eamon Duffy's 2006 book, Marking the Hours and the appeal of Books of Hours for the modern content provider and developer. I don't know if I did a full review of Duffy's book over here, but it's a fascinating read. And I'm such a sucker for the visual elements found in those volumes. (The posting contains some links to various interesting articles about Books of Hours; the image associated with the post is from the Morgan Library and I find it stunning.)

Okay, back to ostensibly earning a living. (Most recently hired person gets no time off at Christmas, or at least just the minimal amount...)

>172 pgmcc: We will be thinking of you as you toil to keep your new place of work afloat while rest of us have fun.

I think I've figured out why for so many years, an annual new Agatha Christie mystery was part of the tradition. Just as with the regency romances that used to be issued monthly, Christie's books are an ideal length for a holiday reading option. I began her And Then There Were None last night as one of Christie's books that I knew from the movies, but which I'd not actually read before. Of course, it's more a suspenseful thriller than an actual puzzle mystery to be solved. But the premise -- that of executing through traditional means and in serial fashion a group of people each of whom has been responsible for the death of someone but without a charge of murder being successfully levied against them -- and the associated ratiocination must have been fun for the author to construct in the form of the novel.

I just had another passing thought, how do you feel about reading an original novel after you've seen the movie? I saw the 1965 movie version of this novel back when I was in high school without having read the book. It made an impression because even now I remember the identity of the mastermind behind the scheme although the movie makers softened the ending. However, in this instance, my enjoyment in reading the novel is watching how the author gets us to the ultimate outcome of a British constabulary faced with ten bodies on an isolated island without any indication as to how this came about. In the modern era, I doubt you would be able to pull this off. The medical examiners would be able to determine the order of death through forensics and the only mystery would have been the *why*. (And nobody would find plausible the final chapter in which Christie reveals to her readers the motive and identity of the actual killer.) But with willing suspension of disbelief (and with full recollection of "who"), I as a modern reader can still thoroughly enjoy reading the story.

But do the rest of you prefer not to see the movie of a much loved book? Or does having seen a movie diminish the enjoyed novelty of reading the source material? (I'm not talking about movie novelizations written on the basis of a screenplay and a few publicity shots.)

At any rate, it's Christmas Eve and I've got exactly the right amount of time to finish my book with mug of coffee in hand before embarking on the day's limited and reasonably structured schedule. (We're doing really low key this year.)

The best of the season to you and yours! (I always love seeing who stops by. Some of you are very quiet for months and months and then suddenly there's a comment out of nowhere. And I think to myself, Why, I never knew that s/he read my thread....)

>173 jillmwo: I'm at a loss for words (or perhaps just pressed for time and so unable to articulate) to answer your question about the movie/book business. If it is done well, it enhances and complements the book, if it is done poorly, or without consideration to the author's point of view, I generally hate it. If the movie folks made a genuine effort to reflect the author's world, I can forgive them for taking some liberties with the novel. I loved the movies of LotR and The Hobbit. Saw them after reading and loving the books. I loved To Kill a Mockingbird movie long before I read the book, and when I read the book I loved that as well. So now when I read, I see the actors from the movies. That doesn't appeal to everyone, and if I hated the actors, it probably wouldn't appeal to me either, but since I don't hate any of them in those versions, it is nice and comfortable.

Have a wonderful, cozy and relaxing Christmas!

>173 jillmwo: But do the rest of you prefer not to see the movie of a much loved book? Or does having seen a movie diminish the enjoyed novelty of reading the source material?

Interesting questions, @jillmwo. A topic I have come to terms with over the years and I have some specific examples.

The first film I watched that kept true to a book that I loved was The Name of the Rose, the medieval murder mystery that really kick-started the genre. It was based on Umberto Eco’s novel of the same name, a novel that my wife and I both loved. As the film kept very close to the book, and the atmosphere and performances matched my inner-eye’s picture from the book, I enjoyed the film. The film had a slight difference to the ending but it did not affect the story to any measureable extent.

I remember when I first heard a film was to be made of the book I was delighted until I heard the lead role was being played by Sean Connery. To that point I had only seen him play James Bond and I hated the idea of the main protagonist being played in that way. When I saw the film I was delighted to discover that Sean Connery can act and that his portrayal of the murder mystery solving monk was perfect.

I enjoyed both the book and the film.

Another of my favourite books that I have seen on screen is Gormenghast. The screen version was a BBC four-part mini-series. While the screen version did not match my mental image of the book, and left out a lot of the things I liked, and had one character that I thought was totally wrong, I liked it. However, I liked it for itself and as a separate entity from the book.

The 39 Steps by John Buchan is a book that has been dramatised on the big screen on several occasions, the first being by Alfred Hitchcock in the 1930s. All the films are worth watching and one thing I like about them is that they all change the ending and none of them is identical to the book.

In general I would not watch a film until after I have read the book. A case in point is The Martian which I have read but not managed to see the film yet. I was going to take my younger son to it but he did not want to go until he has read the book. As he was in the middle of college exams we did not get to the cinema.

@jillmwo, I hope you have a wonderful time over the holiday period and that 2016 is great for you. I have loved conversing with you and the gang on LT and I hope that continues long into the future.

Happy reading!

I prefer not to see movies at all, and especially not movies of books that I've read. I prefer to create my own mental images, rather than have someone else's thrust upon me. I was scarred at a fairly early age by the movie version of The Thirty-Nine Steps, which bore little in common with the book, beyond the name of the main character. The only exception I can think of is The Martian. I was curious to see what they would do with it, and also I knew that since my husband would never read the book, the only way he would ever experience its wonderfulness would be to see the movie.

I hope you and your family enjoy your low key Christmas!

Edit: I typed up my post before seeing >175 pgmcc:, referencing the same books/movies! Great minds...

>176 SylviaC: I think we should agree to stick with just the first part of that saying.

Have a great time this holiday season.

>173 jillmwo: For me it depends on the book and on the movie. I read all Twilight books and enjoyed them, but they are not exactly brilliant, so I could live with a second set of images in my mind. I never went to see Ender's game, though, because I love that book, and the previews didn't coincide with my mental view.

>173 jillmwo: I like seeing movies and other mediums based on books. Usually the book is better IMO but not always. In most cases I treat them as separate yet related works so I can enjoy each in the own right. For example, most movies I've seen of The Three Musketeers get the names right and very little else, though they still can be fun. The BBC TV series is closer. The book Wicked and the play are nothing alike and yet both were good in their own ways. Then you get something like The Lord of the Rings which I think was translated superbly. Others, like Jurassic Park, are close enough that the differences don't bother me too much. On rare occasion I end up enjoying the movie more. I know I'm in the minority but I preferred The Hunger Games movie over the first book.

Well, thank you to all of you who responded to my offhand question. I think there could be some mileage in a study of Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None and a subsequent analysis of all the film versions (1945, 1965, and the mini-series done for the BBC this year which I understand is much grittier.) Why re-do this particular novel/play/movie? It was that movie that prompted me and my idle curiosity. There's real meat in some of these novels, and we should be looking at what makes them translate well dramatically to stage or screen. (Another example might be Lost Horizon where the book itself has dated badly but where the Ronald Coleman version is still an enjoyable movie.)

At tonight's library book group discussion (and the rate things are going, this may be the last one) there was only one person who showed up and (get this) she'd not read the book. This month's selection was the Poirot re-boot, The Monogram Murders, but at least -- to her credit -- the single attendee asked legitimate questions about the book. Unfortunately, it was hard to discuss without spoilers. even though I had carefully structured a few Christie novels during the year,as a means of leading up to tonight's discussion. I will share with you all a couple of things that occurred to me about Sophie Hannah's attempt at bringing Poirot back to the page.

--She made the mistake of allowing us inside Poirot's head and hearing his thoughts. I don't think Christie did that as a rule, so that struck me as a major mis-step on the Hannah's part. Poirot's mind is supposed to be razor-sharp and quick, and it makes for better story-telling if you don't see behind the curtain. The floundering side-kick isn't usually able to keep up which allows the Great Detective to look even more clever.
-- The floundering policeman side-kick was supposed to be a metaphor for the armchair detective. The character just didn't work for me. (He'd rather be seated by a fire, creating a cross-word puzzle, than pursuing murderers. He loses interest in people when they're really dead...I'm not joking; that's the point she's making. That armchair detectives don't want to be near dead bodies or murderers.) I don't question the validity of the sentiment, but clearly this isn't a character who should be a policeman. Why would Poirot put up with him? At least, Hastings was outraged by the occurrence of a murder.
-- There is no process shown of interrogation of witnesses or suspects. There are, however, a bunch of characters who willingly offer up info dumps.

OTOH, the author maintained the emphasis on the puzzle, an aspect that Christie herself emphasized. The biggest drawback was that the mystery wouldn't have required Poirot, except for the fact that the policeman was so ill-suited to detection.

The librarian and I are talking about moving the book group from Monday evenings to Sunday afternoons to see if such a shift works as a mechanism for reviving the group. OTOH, maybe I should just call it quits on this particular exercise in community service. I love talking about books, but when we're down to just one person showing up and who herself hasn't read the book, I'm thinking this isn't really working anymore. *MURFLE*

Muttering like one of Macbeth's witches, Jill goes up the stairs in her 'jammies and bunny slippers...

I'm going to go read about lawyers and spies and stuff since my son gave me Strangers on a Bridge for Christmas.

>180 jillmwo: Don't be too discouraged until it is a pattern of no show. The holidays are difficult and many people need to eliminate whatever activities they can to survive. Maybe see what happens in January and February? Slow months and good for book groups I would think.

Glad for your comments on that book. I am always highly skeptical when an author attempts to continue a favorite character after the original author is dead. I've only seen one work to my satisfaction, and that is Laurie R. King with the Sherlock Holmes and Mary Russell series.

>181 MrsLee: I agree that King does it well. Although I have largely gotten away from her Russell series. I think O, Jerusalem was really the last one in which I found myself deeply immersed. I've got the bulk of the series in hardcover upstairs on my shelf.

And really, whenever any of you hear me grumble, you really should just assume I've allowed myself to get over-tired or overwhelmed by the day. Real life isn't all that dreadful.

I completely agree with your comments on Monogram Murders too. I thought it wasn't very good at all. I half expected the policeman to be the murderer and looking back it might have been a better book if he had been!!
My local reading group seems to be dying on its feet too. Perhaps all us LTers should up sticks and create our own country where we can discuss books to our hearts content 😸 I'm sure Jasper Fforde would join us.

Inspired by @pgmcc, I actually reviewed the reading of 2015 and discovered that I had read more new authors than I had thought:

Michael Dirda
Rosemary Manning
Susannah Fullerton
Liza Kirwin
Alan Melville
Scott Sherman
Elizabeth Edmondson
Clara Benson
Eamon Duffy
E.H. Young
Mavis Doriel Hay
Christine Borgman
Martin Edwards
Molly McCarthy
N.K. Jemisin
Jussi Adler-Olsen
Katherine Addison
Sophie Hannah
Matthew Lewis

By my count, I think that's 19. Not all of them were good, but at least the bulk were alive in the 21st century. I had felt that I was spending a good deal of time in '15, reading a lot of dead authors or just brand names lacking in novelty.

I'm so relieved to discover otherwise.

I'd figure out the number of pages read in 2015 but that would require -- like, y'know -- math.

>184 jillmwo: I am sure mathematics would not be much of a challenge to you if you put your mind to it.

>184 jillmwo: interesting. I hadn't thought about how many new authors I had read this year. I'll include that in my year-end tally. Happy new year to you!

>185 pgmcc: You'd think that, but you'd be seriously mistaken. Math has never been my forte. Ask me about art, about history, about literature, etc., but never, never trust Jill's mathematical output. Several employers have been dismayed. Why do you think I rely on you in advising me of how many books I should be buying in celebration of my Thingaversary? My numbers would break the bank (which the spouse insists I may already have done.)

>186 Jim53: The thought should be attributed to @pgmcc. If you go review the summation of his 2015 statistics on his GD reading thread, it's quite striking. I read it and immediately felt I should begin counting all kinds of things.

My New Year's long weekend begins now with a retreat to my couch and the surprisingly readable Strangers on a Bridge.

>184 jillmwo: That's a lot! I think I'll do the same. (But the year's not over yet.)

I do track my page count. I keep a little Word table with author names, ratings, and pages, and I add them up monthly. That's not so onerous--or mathematical. (If I did it in Excel, they'd add themselves up.)

It makes me feel a little better when I see that somebody has logged 150 books in the year and I've read only 60 or 70: they're not 30-page picture books. I average 500+ pages per week, typically more than 300 per book. Not that the stats matter, because it's not a competition, but I enjoy a little feeling of accomplishment when I log them.

One quick note before I launch the 2016 thread. This New Year's Day is my designated Do-Nothing-But-Read day. I'm not cooking, I'm not tidying, I'm not working for a living.

But two books I started this last week in 2015 will undoubtedly get finished in 2016. Those two titles are Strangers On A Bridge and The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage. So far I'm recommending both.

Now to launch the new thread for 2016.