tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85336777370214900962024-03-28T09:01:02.428+11:00The Vince ReviewPaula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.comBlogger853125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-86188802604760449182024-03-27T09:09:00.004+11:002024-03-27T18:24:34.815+11:00'Black Narcissus' by Rumer Godden<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB_wYSOpWfudbJqOGzWD7Uq_LF_MpxSrpEWKXMlf_PvfyAPgvYoZjcubdBNAMCaxztyDbHQMHhlgo9uteRX85OPne7U8k6tQDdZWlIo8biWtaVtuekao9bhyphenhyphentISXR7TGiyRXTMkiZxlNqm9daBLN0PYNZ5bfDmTrbB9a_QB9bynjufn7LjbvlDtroEUXU/s2040/blacknarcissuscover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2040" data-original-width="1530" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB_wYSOpWfudbJqOGzWD7Uq_LF_MpxSrpEWKXMlf_PvfyAPgvYoZjcubdBNAMCaxztyDbHQMHhlgo9uteRX85OPne7U8k6tQDdZWlIo8biWtaVtuekao9bhyphenhyphentISXR7TGiyRXTMkiZxlNqm9daBLN0PYNZ5bfDmTrbB9a_QB9bynjufn7LjbvlDtroEUXU/s320/blacknarcissuscover.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><b>Under the guidance of Sister Clodagh, the youngest Mother Superior in the history of their order, five European Sisters of the Servants of Mary leave their monastery in Darjeeling, India, and make their way to remote Mopu in the foothills of the Himalayan Mountains. There, in the opulent, abandoned palace where an Indian general housed his harem, the holy sisters hope to establish a school and a health clinic. Their aim is to help combat superstition, ignorance, and disease among the mistrusting natives in the village below, and to silence the doubts of their royal benefactor's agent, the hard-drinking and somewhat disreputable Mr. Dean.</b><p></p><p><b>MY THOUGHTS:</b></p><p>This is Rumer Godden's classic tale about an Anglo-Catholic order of nuns who intend to start a convent high in the Himalayan mountains, from which they'll teach and evangelize the locals and also run a medical dispensary. The building, once a harem, is bestowed on them by General Tada Rai, an elderly, wealthy philanthropist who's deeply embarrassed by his father's original use for it. </p><p>But the big mystery is why had the Brotherhood of Saint Saviour's School, to whom he'd bequeathed it before, quit after just five months? Their only excuses were, 'No scope,' or, 'We weren't needed.' Regardless of their true reason for pulling the plug, the Sisters feel confident that they'll succeed where the Brothers failed. </p><p>Sister Clodagh is put in charge as the youngest Sister Superior in their order. She's a bit of a know-it-all whose flashbacks suggest that she became a nun just to save face when a love affair went sour. Sister Briony, the key-bearer, is in charge of storage and the dispensary. Sister Philippa does the laundry and garden, and Sister Blanche is considered an asset because she's a chatty and sentimental 'people' person. To Sister Clodagh's secret dismay, the intense and uptight Sister Ruth has been sent along as a teacher, because Mother Superior deemed the responsibility would be good for her. They're later joined by the dour and inflexible Sister Adela who wants to do everything strictly by the books. </p><p>Mr Dean is the General's somewhat bumptious and cynical English agent, who is called on often to help the Sisters out with structural problems or interpretation emergencies. It all goes against his grain, since he doubts they'll last long. But never does he dream he'll make such a huge impression on at least one of the nuns! </p><p>My favourite character isn't either of the main pair. So not the abrasive Mr Dean, whose method of dealing with problems is to get himself totally plastered. And not Sister Clodagh, whose main talent seems to be rebuking underlings, although I do understand her growing sense of helplessness. To me, this book's ray of sunshine is Dilip Rai, the General's teenage nephew and heir. This original young man eagerly wants to Anglicize himself, but is already shaped by his formative culture. He's always disarmingly respectful to the Sisters, but has no idea that his sunny openness about unmentionable subjects presses their buttons. </p><p>I love it that the novel's title comes from the scent of his cologne, Black Narcissus, which becomes their snide nickname for him. The innocent 'Young General' becomes the embodiment of all that's sensual and erotic, a perfect match for his environment, yet symbolizing all that makes the nuns feel awkward. He justifies his arousing scent by cheerfully observing, 'Don't you think it's rather common to smell of ourselves.' </p><p>Comparing this novel to other books I've read by Godden, I think <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2020/07/in-this-house-of-brede-by-rumer-godden.html">In This House of Brede</a> introduces more situations in which characters must draw upon the tenets of their faith to make decisions. And perhaps <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/03/mini-reviews.html">Kingfishers Catch Fire</a><b> </b>has more plot points where two juxtaposing cultures clash heads. In Black Narcissus, fractures often (but not always) come more from within, although they are undoubtedly triggered by the strange new setting. </p><p>Although I prefer <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2020/07/in-this-house-of-brede-by-rumer-godden.html">In This House of Brede</a>, I still rank this book highly because the questions it raises gives it plenty of depth. </p><p>Can it really be labelled faithfulness, to recklessly barge into a different culture and begin trying to superimpose your ways without fathoming theirs? Should an evangelistic religious order be flexible enough to take into account the worldviews of the people they live among? If so, where do you draw the line so that you retain the parameters of your prescribed faith without morphing into something entirely different? If you blur the lines, are you still effective as a Christian witness? </p><p>I don't think Rumer Godden really intends to answer any of these questions, but just set us pondering them. The way her plot plays itself out suggests that she has no easy answers anyway. I think books like this should be mandatory reading for every wannabe missionary, and perhaps every wannabe nun.</p><p> (A bit off topic, if I'd ever considered such a career, or more correctly, experienced such a calling, their tight wimples might be a definite deterrent, since I feel hot and constricted with fabric around my neck and throat, and find having my ears covered impedes my concentration.)</p><p>Of course, if you like pure drama, spare a thought for Mr Dean, who has a crazy, love-sick nun throw herself at him. I'm guessing this might be a main reason why Hollywood latched onto the story for their 1947 film, which I don't think I'll bother tracking down at this stage.</p><p>ππππ </p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-22397177267782864912024-03-20T05:30:00.003+11:002024-03-27T15:27:49.942+11:00'The Alice Network' by Kate Quinn<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jEOd_FRNekQTfAxzBEhLGxBq5wtZENVOrsW_yrRvo9mPMgajXs9vY6UegN9IOJPNlbFCyo5v2emnoAX2j-z9VeZ-byaVvhQrJgQlF3-H7JXsEdh56ILC9Ert592UeH8bmyjaAx0L5NZrG98fuvFYbSDIQvRiORCh_uVuO8BmOE2MrgSoFg8wTq5mgi4/s2040/alicenetworkcover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2040" data-original-width="1530" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jEOd_FRNekQTfAxzBEhLGxBq5wtZENVOrsW_yrRvo9mPMgajXs9vY6UegN9IOJPNlbFCyo5v2emnoAX2j-z9VeZ-byaVvhQrJgQlF3-H7JXsEdh56ILC9Ert592UeH8bmyjaAx0L5NZrG98fuvFYbSDIQvRiORCh_uVuO8BmOE2MrgSoFg8wTq5mgi4/s320/alicenetworkcover.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><b><br /></b></div><b><div><b><br /></b></div>In an enthralling new historical novel from national bestselling author Kate Quinn, two womenβa female spy recruited to the real-life Alice Network in France during World War I and an unconventional American socialite searching for her cousin in 1947βare brought together in a mesmerizing story of courage and redemption.</b><p><b>MY THOUGHTS:</b></p><p>This book was a birthday present from my sister-in-law, and it has two of my favourite literary conventions going for it. Firstly, it's one of those historical novels with dual, intersecting timelines, and secondly, it weaves three real-life heroes among the fictional main characters. They were such secret, unsung heroes, I hadn't heard of them until beginning this novel. The best spies received no acclaim or praise, since their work had to be so hush hush, and this carries over into the twenty-first century. Part of Kate Quinn's aim, I think, is to finally give credit where it's due. </p><p>Now for the story.</p><p>For the more recent thread in 1947, we're with Charlie St Clair, a 19-year-old American girl being dragged by her mother to a Swiss abortion clinic where they can get rid of Charlie's 'little problem.' However, Charlie's ulterior motive is to track down her beloved cousin, Rose, who disappeared somewhere in France. Her first port of call is connecting with a frowsy, wasted woman named Evelyn Gardiner, who works on a bureau to track refugees, and signed a report on Rose. </p><p>The earlier thread begins in 1915 and introduces the same Evelyn (Eve), as a beautiful, newly recruited spy aged 22. World War One was a time when female spies sometimes managed to sneak beneath the radar and Captain Cecil Aylmer Cameron (one of the true historical figures) takes advantage of this. He helps train Eve for the job and sets her in France with the code name Marguerite Le Francois. </p><p>Eve becomes part of the Alice Network, a real life group of female spies based in Lille, France, who sneakily gather information about German troop movement and battle plans. Her undercover job is to wait on Nazi clientele at Le Lethe Restaurant, run by detestable enemy sympathiser, RenΔ Bordelon. </p><p>Eve's close comrades are the jaunty and talented courier Lili (real life Louise de Bettignes) and the grim and glowering Violette (real life Leonie van Houtte). Since our impression of the wide-eyed, lovely Eve of 1915 differs so much from the grumpy, drunken recluse of 1947 with her painfully crippled hands, of course we are driven to find out what happened. </p><p>Whew, it's a wild ride and an eye-opener alright, but parts of this novel don't sit well with me.</p><p><span style="color: red;">(There are some minor spoilers here, but I can't discuss this book without brushing over them. So proceed carefully.)</span></p><p>1) The whole thing becomes an intensely bitter, personal revenge mission. Haggard 54-year-old Eve decides she absolutely has to be the one to kill her old nemesis, RenΔ, with her own busted hands. This blinkered drivenness, against the sound advice of the young couple she has come to love, may seem impactful plotwise, but it's also pretty darn creepy to me, suggesting she's become unhinged.</p><p>2) The story feels somewhat contrived to give Charlie as good a personal reason to hate RenΔ as Eve does. It's farfetched to believe that RenΔ could possibly have his dirty fingers stuck in two evil pies spanning both wars. But according to the story, this fictional baddie is pivotal in two crucial historical events about 30 years apart. Come on! </p><p>3) I thoroughly hate that Eve would even for one moment consider herself a failure for supposedly blurting secrets to the enemy while she was unconscious. Coming after the sacrificial charade she played for so long, plus having her hands mangled and opium forced on her, it's appalling to imagine she wouldn't extend herself an ounce of grace or forgiveness. Not to mention Violette resenting her for being a 'Judas Bitch.' This harsh attitude sets our minds against Violette, whose real-life counterpart may not have been so unreasonable at all. </p><p>4) All that sleeping with the enemy is just horrifying and icky. I know it's meant to signify just how much a great spy like Eve was willing to sacrifice, but it leaves a bad taste.</p><p>5) I find it just a bit slick and stagy at the end. And dare I say easily done. That Baudelaire bust just had to be in the right place at the right time. Whenever life does deliver such poetic justice, I doubt it's quite so pat.</p><p>All up, I think Kate Quinn crosses a line to melodrama and staginess, which is a shame about such a huge, ambitious writing project that had so much going for it. Still a well flowing, easy reading, often enjoyable read. </p><p>πππ </p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-84507018415172858502024-03-13T08:17:00.002+11:002024-03-13T08:23:26.538+11:00'The Shipping News' by E. Annie Proulx<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ75Ftu1Ado7_VmOHds2_ufrcxC2X_RydCvaxEo31OGclDDpn7Gwk60oORZsYNdBsol0XphgcdH2ol9gInheKrMBzKOAfrf9GSCt_MjlfvgisFC0Spk7NDIHhkAsXpW0KKoBAwNwv3RwVN__zV_7RWjMSHCvWxiu75pNNqEHWl7sILUUrttLyffY6WuVk/s2040/shippingnewscover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2040" data-original-width="1530" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ75Ftu1Ado7_VmOHds2_ufrcxC2X_RydCvaxEo31OGclDDpn7Gwk60oORZsYNdBsol0XphgcdH2ol9gInheKrMBzKOAfrf9GSCt_MjlfvgisFC0Spk7NDIHhkAsXpW0KKoBAwNwv3RwVN__zV_7RWjMSHCvWxiu75pNNqEHWl7sILUUrttLyffY6WuVk/s320/shippingnewscover.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><b>At thirty-six, Quoyle, a third-rate newspaperman, is wrenched violently out of his workaday life when his two-timing wife meets her just deserts. He retreats with his two daughters to his ancestral home on the starkly beautiful Newfoundland coast, where a rich cast of local characters all play a part in Quoyle's struggle to reclaim his life. As three generations of his family cobble up new lives, Quoyle confronts his private demons--and the unpredictable forces of nature and society--and begins to see the possibility of love without pain or misery.<br /><br />A vigorous, darkly comic, and at times magical portrait of the contemporary American family, The Shipping News shows why E. Annie Proulx is recognized as one of the most gifted and original writers in America today.</b><p></p><p><b>MY THOUGHTS:</b></p><p> This was the Pulitzer prizewinner of 1994. I grabbed a copy from a free street library, planning to add it to the small pile I intend to read.</p><p>Its hero, Quoyle, is a shy and self-conscious social misfit. Taking up far more space with his gauche and ugly self than he'd like to, Quoyle has just been widowed. His villainous wife, Petal, is killed in a car smash as she cheats on him. Meanwhile, his parents have made a successful suicide pact. Poor Quoyle takes off with his two young daughters and his aunt to Newfoundland, the icy cold province of their ancestry.</p><p>Quoyle acquires a job as a reporter at <i>The Gammy Bird</i>, a rickety local rag staffed by a couple of rough-as-guts old men. We're told it's 'a tough little paper that looked life right in its shifty, bloodshot eyes.' At the age of 36, Quoyle will be the youngest on the team. The founding editor, Jack Buggit, assigns him the job of reporting car wrecks plus the shipping news. Quoyle will have to list arrivals and departures, and is later assigned to write feature articles about one vessel each week.</p><p>Poor Quoyle feels in way over his head, from his grief-triggering reporting role to the prospect of getting around in a boat. What's more, he discovers that he comes from a wild and disreputable bunch of ancestors whose 'filthy blood runs in his veins.' Yet in this daunting new setting, he somehow finds his stride and gains confidence. There might even be a bit of romance in store for bereft Quoyle. </p><p>His aunt's words prove true when she says, 'Of course you can do the job. We face up to awful things because we can't go around them or forget them. What we have to get over, somehow we do. Even the worst things.' It's gratifying to see things turn out well for these longsuffering characters, although I can't imagine how Quoyle and his aunt muster so much money to spend on costly expenses like major house repairs, boats and trucks. After all, he works at a modest local newspaper with a piddling staff and she has set herself up as a yacht upholsterer, a niche business if ever there was one. Still, at least they pay lip service to having to watch their expenses. </p><p>What strikes me most is the fine line between beauty and ugliness. On my back cover, the Sunday Telegraph calls this book, 'As stark and ruggedly beautiful as the storm-battered coast of Newfoundland itself.' Yet Proulx consistently uses repugnant imagery. How about, 'The bay crawled with whitecaps like maggots seething in a broad wound.' Or, 'The rock was littered with empty crab shells, still wet with rust-coloured body fluids.' It took me no time to realise that reflecting the harsh events of life with the most sordid minutiae of nature is simply Annie Proulx's style, for Quoyle, his aunt, his love interest and even his young daughters all have horrific backstories. Well, if others want to call it beautiful, I won't argue.</p><p>She does something similar with characters. I started to notice early on that nobody is ever depicted as nice looking, but written with every wart, wrinkle and blemish mercilessly highlighted, even those their owners would prefer to keep hidden. Quoyle himself is described with, 'features as bunched as kissed fingertips, eyes the colour of plastic, monstrous chin a freakish shelf jutting out from his lower face.' He still manages to win the love of a good young widow. Perhaps compared to everyone else we meet within these pages, Quoyle is actually a Casanova, or at least the handsomest guy to be found. </p><p>Ranking this book is a challenge. I really like Quoyle. His mild surprise at finally getting something right after 36 years of being called a screw-up and a failure is heartwarming. I love the chapter in which he sticks up for himself when Tert Card, the second-in-charge under Buggit, attempts to change Quotle's article about the infamous oil rigs. And it's satisfying to see how his earnest and gentle parenting style breaks through the hang-ups his girls presumably inherited from their uncaring mother. Perhaps most of all, it's great when it strikes Quoyle that he can break the mould set by his no-good ancestors. For all that, I never really looked forward to picking this book up to continue the story but felt as if I was forcing myself to do it. And I was puzzled as to why I kept wanting it to finish, when there is such a lot to like. </p><p>I've decided all the small talk, coarse joking and lengthy anecdotes tend to drag on a bit. It's the sort of realism we all get such a lot of in our actual lives. I want books to help me escape from that sort of tedium instead of shovelling on more. Maybe Proulx has succeeded in making these in-your-face Newfoundlanders so real that they come across as a bit boring. Or I'm willing to admit that perhaps I'm just one of those people who could never assimilate easily into the Killick-Claw community. </p><p>πππ </p><p> </p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-67294937481533097302024-03-06T05:30:00.001+11:002024-03-06T05:30:00.135+11:00'Jonathan Livingston Seagull' by Richard Bach <div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzBHNam06tR_zS0RO2TDEzouHo82ZCJvKWUqp_6nBzBz0M-1kryYO15ZNX8TU9RHpqDtTFPMw2gjUMsGlD0RQ5SpThsGRiEiHGACmLS8aVah2mM-tsdP8_yRG39pbfiNJI_cEnDRWVcAN8r3dCxQ1jbe5YyD_Oe2dm2wTU-4TJA1upUA9B0pB-c5yMObQ/s2000/jonathanlseagullcover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1496" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzBHNam06tR_zS0RO2TDEzouHo82ZCJvKWUqp_6nBzBz0M-1kryYO15ZNX8TU9RHpqDtTFPMw2gjUMsGlD0RQ5SpThsGRiEiHGACmLS8aVah2mM-tsdP8_yRG39pbfiNJI_cEnDRWVcAN8r3dCxQ1jbe5YyD_Oe2dm2wTU-4TJA1upUA9B0pB-c5yMObQ/s320/jonathanlseagullcover.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><b>This is a story for people who follow their hearts and make their own rules...people who get special pleasure out of doing something well, even if only for themselves...people who know there's more to this living than meets the eye: theyβll be right there with Jonathan, flying higher and faster than ever they dreamed.</b><p><b>MY THOUGHTS:</b></p><p>This was the bestselling fiction title for consecutive years 1972 and 1973, and its popularity spread by word of mouth through a world that was supposedly starving for its message. I was a toddler during its heyday, but I remember some of my unimpressed friends being forced to study it at High School in the mid eighties. I was in a different English class. Now, at last I've decided to put this runaway bestseller to the test.</p><p>It's all about how the intrepid Jonathan shuns the breakfast flock of birds to practice maneuvers way out of their league, such as eagle swoops. If there was a seagull Olympics, he would absolutely ace it. But instead he becomes a feathered pariah, since his peer group simply can't understand him. To them, eating is the most important part of life, not flight. </p><p> If I hadn't skipped reading this as a teenager, I might've easily been fired up by its message. It's hard to say in retrospect. At my current stage of life, I probably gravitate more toward the breakfast flock, whose lifestyle brings its own type of satisfaction if you manage to snag a chip or two. I guess as we age, a life of normalcy in which we feel no need to stand out from the crowd gains more appeal every day. The fact that this little fable sold like hotcakes in the early seventies suggests to me a horde of readers who each considered themselves to be radical, far-reaching Jonathans; lots of wannabe high-flyers who shunned the notion of simply scrambling after fish heads. In other words, few people admit to belonging in the breakfast flock, even though it contains millions of members. </p><p>I believe we can still take the story's basic message on board, although some of us may choose to turn it upside down. I tend to think after decades of inundation with bestselling literature like this, it's now more radical to embrace a lifestyle of ordinariness without growing restless. Instead of speedy stunts in the air currents, we understand the peacefulness of bobbing in the shallows. </p><p>This book really evokes the psychedelic seventies in which it took off. The story gets all spacey and strange, introducing notions of different incarnations, astral travel and higher spiritual planes until we finally reach some sort of enlightenment. And our friend Jonathan learns so much, he gets to skip several evolutions. It's all a bit way out and esoteric the further on we read. </p><p>I can see how people call the book beautiful. The photos by Russell Munson are evocative and gorgeous. Jonathan belongs to a species of gull with golden eyes, yet most of the southern hemisphere seagulls I'm familiar with have either white or beady black orbs, so it increased my education. And the author Bach himself was a pilot, so he wrote his knowledge of aerodynamics into Jonathan's specky stunts, which is also pretty cool. </p><p>But on the whole, I tend to think I'd be nowhere in this seagull centric world. I'm probably not aggressive and pushy enough to survive for long in the breakfast flock after all, yet I'm certainly not ambitious and driven enough to be a super flyer like Jonathan. Hi to any of my fellow lone, retiring gulls who may be reading this. </p><p>Even though it surely helped define a decade's heartbeat, I can't quite bring myself to give this story three stars since I felt like putting it down several times. A bit too woo woo for me. </p><p>ππΒ½ </p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-29763533406802175502024-02-28T05:30:00.001+11:002024-02-28T05:30:00.125+11:00'Pollyanna's Door to Happiness' by Elizabeth Borton<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyVmAZlxj365ksxpKdds5AOYf1snaNb7JknYqCKQWSiNdfQGShyFI5n0dsG73ywdjE9QsDSVw8JPERwLDnmHruJ0zir2lAqEHCdQ-dQdo_NNQHFW4p5F8Q_p_U4P1yoQccBvS-aMw81ihWdXKxfNEmrkEsLjBVUS2iJnSYfrkGSzjk5EyQPbpmKjbZws4/s2040/pollyannadoortohappiness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2040" data-original-width="1530" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyVmAZlxj365ksxpKdds5AOYf1snaNb7JknYqCKQWSiNdfQGShyFI5n0dsG73ywdjE9QsDSVw8JPERwLDnmHruJ0zir2lAqEHCdQ-dQdo_NNQHFW4p5F8Q_p_U4P1yoQccBvS-aMw81ihWdXKxfNEmrkEsLjBVUS2iJnSYfrkGSzjk5EyQPbpmKjbZws4/s320/pollyannadoortohappiness.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p><b>MY THOUGHTS: </b></p><p>It's a pleasure to get back to the Pollyanna books after a break of several months. </p><p>This time Jimmy sets off for a year on an engineering job where Pollyanna and the kids can't follow. He's an eleventh hour team member joining a high-profile expedition to the South Pole. I must say, he breaks the news to his wife in a tactless, un-Jimmylike way, along these lines. 'Chance of a lifetime... make or break career opportunity... but if you say the word, Pollyanna, I'll turn it down right now.' What does he expect her to do?</p><p>Alas, Pollyanna is true to character. Remember in <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/03/pollyanna-of-orange-blossoms-by-harriet.html">Pollyanna of the Orange Blossoms</a> when she didn't tell Jimmy she was pregnant before he shipped off to the war? This time she hides info she's just discovered that their bank has gone broke. Jimmy assumes his family will live off his savings. It seems strange that he wouldn't check such a vital detail, even with just a day's notice, but oh well, whatever. </p><p>The upshot is that Pollyanna joins the jobseekers in Boston. A lot of her desperation makes no sense in the context of the whole series. Why look for modest rooms to rent, instead of staying with Aunt Ruth and Uncle John, who are loaded with dough? Even if the older couple are away on one of his research trips, isn't that all the more reason why their close family members should move into that beautiful mansion? But John and Ruth don't even get a mention in this story. Again, oh well, whatever. </p><p>Pollyanna ends up as the non-professional assistant of Dr Bennet, a psychiatrist. Her job will be regular chit chat with several selected patients to work her Glad Game magic on them. It sounds dodgy to readers in our era, for somebody with no training whatsoever in the mental health sector to be hired for such a responsibility, but this was the 1930s. Dr Bennet even sets her up in an apartment conducive to entertaining. In other words, Pollyanna will be getting paid for being herself.</p><p>At first I facepalmed, for Dr Bennet is doing the very thing Aunt Polly dreaded during Pollyanna's childhood; that is making Pollyanna feel self-conscious and put on the spot. Surely monetizing Pollyanna's gift will take away her beloved spontaneity, especially now that she has to write up formal reports on her new 'friends.' I expected it to destroy the whole spirit of the series, but somehow it works! </p><p>Pollyanna has a humble, caring attitude, holds the doctor's trust seriously, and the job takes a great toll on her. The patients themselves are an interesting bunch. There's a novelist, Rada Masters, who has a complex that people are stealing from her. Deborah Dangerfield is a poor little rich teenager who keeps running away from home, and bereft Mrs Garden keeps shoplifting baby clothes without even realizing. Then there's poor Mr Bagley, a transport company director whose wife and son both die in separate accidents on his vehicles! No wonder Pollyanna gets a bit burned out. </p><p>She has some wise insights about how the human mind works, after all her years of fascination with people.</p><p>Pollyanna reflects:</p><p></p><blockquote> 'Curbed and exercised for our entertainment, the imagination gives us pure happiness. Running wild though, and substituting itself and its manufactured dreams for reality... it plunges us into problems, despair, mental troubles. It's a thing like fire; capable of infinite good and comfort if harnessed and guided and understood, and capable of injuring us in uncounted ways if we permit it to rule us.' </blockquote><p></p><p>And again:</p><p></p><blockquote>'Sometimes we think strange things. They are like little sores on our minds, like measles or chicken pox. We get over them. They aren't natural things... don't last forever.'</blockquote><p></p><p>Pollyanna's children are 13, 10 and 7, which is a few years younger than they were said to be in the previous book (<a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/09/pollyannas-castle-in-mexico-by.html">Pollyanna's Castle in Mexico</a>)! Elizabeth Borton messes up her own timeline, but the kids ring more true at these younger ages. Junior acquires a part time job, helping a newspaper office with his photography skills, and grapples with his own conscience crisis of whether or not it's ethical to throw in his lot with the snoopy paparazzi. Delicate Judy aspires to be a professional dancer. At this stage I wonder whether sturdy Ruth, the plain little plodder, will blossom out and eclipse her talented brother and sister in some remarkable way. Time will tell.</p><p>Here's a funny speculation. When Ruth assumes her daddy will be working close to Santa Claus, Junior and Judy exchange amused glances because she still believes in Santa Claus, yet neither seem to twig that she's chosen the wrong polar region. Since Elizabeth Borton has got so many other things wrong within her own stories, I can't help wondering if she realised it herself. </p><p>Overall, I enjoyed this far more than Elizabeth Borton's two previous Glad Books, in which she went off the rails, turning the stories into sensationalist adverts for their lavish settings. There's been some much-needed course correction here, and she's finally writing more in the initial spirit of Eleanor H. Porter and Harriet Lummis Smith. This book takes place in a normal city suburb with several people walking around beneath black clouds of depression and despair which Pollyanna helps them clear. Hooray, that's all we really want from a Pollyanna book. It's formulaic maybe, yet not predictable, because there is so much scope. </p><p>πππΒ½ </p><p>Next up will be <b>Pollyanna's Golden Horseshoe</b> (the last of Elizabeth Borton's offerings, whew!)</p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-24136736032807601932024-02-21T05:30:00.008+11:002024-02-21T05:30:00.140+11:00'The Secret Adversary' by Agatha Christie<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtcHz17iKQ2BUb5n7P6L9SmdE_pOCmIoM0ZbRa-LKVu1-rN1UuM4nnwYSUl1umwFT8EHJT23SnScMr92iD8IAsdXBuoR-LdeY4AtnPrpldEyig2VnKiT28Wlr8OoZHsY64pnJNKcdpiKyL4iGG_24HxpnNozbmP8uCB2jMX2L5ECqD38-HecaC-pu-DqM/s2040/secretadversarycover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2040" data-original-width="1530" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtcHz17iKQ2BUb5n7P6L9SmdE_pOCmIoM0ZbRa-LKVu1-rN1UuM4nnwYSUl1umwFT8EHJT23SnScMr92iD8IAsdXBuoR-LdeY4AtnPrpldEyig2VnKiT28Wlr8OoZHsY64pnJNKcdpiKyL4iGG_24HxpnNozbmP8uCB2jMX2L5ECqD38-HecaC-pu-DqM/s320/secretadversarycover.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><b>Tommy Beresford and Prudence 'Tuppence' Cowley are young, in loveβ¦ and flat broke. Just after Great War, there are few jobs available and the couple are desperately short of money. Restless for excitement, they decide to embark on a daring business scheme: Young Adventurers Ltd.β"willing to do anything, go anywhere." </b><p></p><p><b>MY THOUGHTS:</b> </p><p>We are introduced to young job-seekers Tommy and Tuppence, the only Christie characters destined to age through the decades in real time alongside their author. In this debut they are babes in their early twenties, broke and anxious for work. The year is 1920. Tuppence Cowley possesses elfin charm and oodles of self confidence and energy. Tommy Beresford is a 'pleasantly ugly' young ginger who prides himself on his common sense. Friends since childhood, they agree to start a new business venture named 'The Young Adventurers', in which they'll hire themselves out to anyone who needs them.</p><p>An eavesdropper soon plunges the pair deep into espionage and danger. These kids must think on their feet and rely on their wits more than they'd ever expected. (So one moral is don't start a business unless you're certain you can deliver on your hype.) </p><p>Tommy and Tuppence find themselves embroiled in the search for Jane Finn, a young passenger aboard the sinking Lusitania in 1915, who was entrusted with some vital documents as she boarded a lifeboat. Neither Jane nor the precious, inflammatory papers have been seen for five years and foul play is suspected. </p><p>Hot on the trail of the two Ts, who are hot on Jane's trail, is the titular secret adversary, a criminal mastermind who goes by the modest alias, 'Mr Brown.' This slick crook is renowned for popping up in unexpected places, posing as a nonentity. But although others know his methodology in retrospect, nobody has caught him at it. Can the formidable Mr Brown be foiled by a couple of green youths like Tuppence and Tommy? </p><p>One intelligence agent tells them, 'My experts, working in stereotypical ways, have failed. You will bring imagination and an open mind to the task.' Perhaps the enjoyment of this novel hinges on the willingness of us readers to accept that reasoning for involving total noobs. </p><p>If we are happy to swallow that premise, it's a fun read! The story sets us on edge, looking for Mr Brown in the unlikeliest places. Breakthroughs sometimes rely on the slightest details and surprises follow on the tail of each other. And perhaps because Christie isn't a deft hand at writing romance, the romantic snippets are sort of awkward and endearing.</p><p>The story takes place only five years after the disaster it draws from; the sinking of the passenger ship Lusitania by a German submarine during WW1. I guess Agatha Christie joins the ranks of opportunistic fiction authors who profit from still raw grief, for over 1000 passengers were drowned in this tragedy. But hey, Covid pandemic novels started hitting our shelves barely three years after 2020, so story fodder is still being left to the discretion of writers and publishers. </p><p>Although this story is not totally flawess, relying heavily on coincidences a few too many times, I think it still deserves full marks for its wonderful twists and subtle clues, especially considering Christie was still quite young and this was just her second novel. She was excellent at anticipating not only my initial suspicions but even my subsequent guesses when I thought I was being smart. </p><p>One thing that puzzles me is why characters such as Tommy initially find the name 'Jane Finn' so outlandish and remarkable. It strikes me as quite a fine and run-of-the-mill name. Would you pause in amazement if you heard some stranger refer to 'Jane Finn'? I wouldn't. If I was able to step into the pages, I'd ask him why he found it so odd.</p><p>As for Jane herself, wow, what a memorable character. Talk about taking a trust seriously on behalf of her country. </p><p>πππππ </p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-14635374428233497162024-02-14T05:30:00.002+11:002024-02-15T13:03:27.964+11:00'Romancing Mark Twain' novels by E. E. Burke<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnl9Dq0Msx1htfHCryTjNRUeMXn647ljvvbvfwQLjngI031QyA-WYK42KgEdwOPIt14TTO1gntkrX96ayj-G8CoFBWshBWZ6wzTbB17m848ES3BoyhE1IFdDv8iH1kIWA8APxEKjwUczZcSespl5y1lb35UINv9eRnhRD7D3bmYxwR0IObIXZv8WczPpc/s1024/Tomandhuckstatue.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="682" data-original-width="1024" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnl9Dq0Msx1htfHCryTjNRUeMXn647ljvvbvfwQLjngI031QyA-WYK42KgEdwOPIt14TTO1gntkrX96ayj-G8CoFBWshBWZ6wzTbB17m848ES3BoyhE1IFdDv8iH1kIWA8APxEKjwUczZcSespl5y1lb35UINv9eRnhRD7D3bmYxwR0IObIXZv8WczPpc/s320/Tomandhuckstatue.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>I'm surely not the only reader who finds Mark Twain's famous boy duo lingers in our imaginations long after we finish the books. He wrote two very different classics about two equally divergent boys. It has become easy for Twain fans to ask others if they'd choose 'Team Tom' or 'Team Huck.' The only thing these two characters have in common is that they greatly admire each other. </p><p>Tom is a power personality while Huck is a peacemaker.</p><p>Tom is choleric, while Huck, I think, slides into phlegmatic.</p><p>Tom crams his head with fancy and folklore to arguably unhealthy levels, while Huck tends to be more practical and hands-on, which, I think gives him the survival edge the poor kid needs. </p><p>Tom revels in being the centre of attention while Huck shuns the spotlight. </p><p>Tom is a controller while Huck hates making waves. </p><p>While searching for any fan fiction, I was delighted to stumble across these two books in my scrolling. E.E. Burke has written two bona fide romances about Tom and Huck as adults - the perfect indulgence to feature for Valentine's Day. Kudoes to her! I enjoyed them both immensely. And it's fitting that just as Mark Twain's own two books about this duo differ markedly from each other, so do Burke's. </p><p>Check out my initial reviews of <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/11/the-adventures-of-tom-sawyer-by-mark.html">Tom</a> and <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/12/the-adventures-of-huckleberry-finn-by.html">Huck</a>. </p><p>Now for what I dare to call these sexy spin-offs :) </p><p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIlnymvQ6yHS9LgJ4g0DlGgZpwS5trEBMNCEXyvek8jgiO1fVXZGmNrfFIwGLsc_cQ06T9g5qRVOJSVEE9X1okj-ynWIhIR_2Ru98ENPnC5pZDHjN8BwyAEhmrTMdfFqsWxSMx_RnvX7qrzbO4X896p1hgFE3Qx7qLeyLgbDFKh5SGNty-40MS1errd-g/s2700/tomsawyerreturnscover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="1800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIlnymvQ6yHS9LgJ4g0DlGgZpwS5trEBMNCEXyvek8jgiO1fVXZGmNrfFIwGLsc_cQ06T9g5qRVOJSVEE9X1okj-ynWIhIR_2Ru98ENPnC5pZDHjN8BwyAEhmrTMdfFqsWxSMx_RnvX7qrzbO4X896p1hgFE3Qx7qLeyLgbDFKh5SGNty-40MS1errd-g/s320/tomsawyerreturnscover.jpg" width="213" /></a></b></div><p></p><p><b><span style="font-size: large;">Tom Sawyer Returns</span></b></p><p>This novel embroils some of our favourite characters in Civil War espionage.</p><p>We readers are probably all sentimental enough to imagine Becky and Tom end up tying the knot, even though as tweenies they infuriate and offend each other quite as often as they are friends.</p><p>Becky Thatcher has grown into an attractive but deeply troubled young woman, whose father has been accused of treason; namely printing and distributing seditious propaganda. And her cousin, Jeff, although dearly loved, has placed his uncle, the judge, in some hot water. </p><p>Tom Sawyer is the sudden arrival Becky never expected to see again. He's a spy who gets knocked unconscious as he heads straight for the Thatchers' house. Tom knows he was sent there for a reason, but partial amnesia has obscured whatever it was. With his attraction to Becky rekindled, he fears it won't be anything that will endear him to her. Especially since his cryptic orders were, 'Bring in the evidence you were sent to collect against Judge Thatcher.' Is it possible Tom could be involved in an evil mission and not even remember it? </p><p>This story brings out a pleasing vulnerability in Tom which Twain never really taps into. Yet I can fully believe that with Tom's orphan background, it always existed. Another thing I love is how Tom's secret agent duties prevent him from boasting about his own heroism in the old way. Enforced modesty must almost kill this famous show-off. </p><p>Becky fights her love for the unwelcome Tom, especially now that she's engaged to his old rival, none other than the smug and dapper Alfred Temple. Alongside the main couple, I love the reappearance of other familiar faces from The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. Intervening years have turned Alfred into a man whose motivation Mark Twain surely never foresaw, yet I'm willing to bet he'd be a big fan of the direction in which Burke takes Alfred in this story. Then there's Amy Lawrence, a dour and reclusive young woman who now resents Becky for another reason than her sway over Tom's fickle affection. </p><p>A couple of faces I missed were Joe Harper and Aunt Polly, although I can see there was no place for them in this tightly woven plot. (It's easy to assume Aunt Polly must have passed away.)</p><p>I think most of all, I love how E. E. Burke has developed the character of young Sid. Far more than Tom's insipid, goody-goody, tell-tale little brother, he is now the youngest ever appointed Provost Marshall, or head of local police. Sid is shown to have an intriguing inner life of his own. It's a hard pill for Tom to swallow to accede to Sid, whether or not he can figure out if he's even trustworthy. </p><p>There is plenty of action which proves lethal for some and a close shave for others. Some sneaky disguises are also in order, some on the spur of the moment. A very clever book which I thoroughly enjoyed.</p><p>πππππ</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkqy8BU_vo34fYFBT1P9tXcyKvEmwhkDXN21ufJzRdYtCI_UvpxgYvb147JVZm-KfLwnsQRVdgD4gLflQZsxBVetab9fqNd0EAAOmW-urFtSOAN1Ub-_2z2o-hSHrkSO7iTxQy6AhQTGPokWhi6V3Gb4tmTYNgZLlOE22NVcwWNubWDFqUjpuYYbqGkiE/s2700/taminghuckfinncover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="1800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkqy8BU_vo34fYFBT1P9tXcyKvEmwhkDXN21ufJzRdYtCI_UvpxgYvb147JVZm-KfLwnsQRVdgD4gLflQZsxBVetab9fqNd0EAAOmW-urFtSOAN1Ub-_2z2o-hSHrkSO7iTxQy6AhQTGPokWhi6V3Gb4tmTYNgZLlOE22NVcwWNubWDFqUjpuYYbqGkiE/s320/taminghuckfinncover.jpg" width="213" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Taming Huck Finn</b></span><p></p><p>A romance featuring a disgruntled and heart-torn Huckleberry Finn that takes place largely on an old paddle steamer. Yes please! </p><p>The story begins at Atchison, Kansas. Huck Finn, having recuperated from a serious gunshot wound, is almost ready to seek work as a steamboat pilot for which he's been trained. There, he receives a bombshell in the form of a lawyer accompanied by a friendly little boy. Huck's one-time guardian, Widow Douglas, has passed away and left custody of her only grandson to him. While he's still reeling from this news, an intense and bitter young woman shows up. Hallie MacBride wants to claim her nephew, who is her only remaining family member. </p><p>This spurs one of Huck's famous conscience issues. Although he considers himself an unfit guardian for a child, bad memories of his personal experience with Miss Watson drive him to look out for young Tad. He wouldn't forgive himself for leaving an impressionable and lively young lad with another sour spinster - which is his initial impression of Hallie. Huck has no idea that a deeply hurtful experience has branded its mark on her soul. </p><p>For her part, Hallie never anticipates how disarming and irresistible she'll find her infuriating adversary.</p><p>And for the record, young Tad badly wants to stay with Huck. He seems by far the cooler option for an eight-year-old. </p><p>There's a lot of fascinating detail about the major responsibilities of a riverboat pilot, including subtle peril spotting in the water and interpretation of other signs, such as wind direction. These days are long before motor cars, so steamboat pilots were really the only drivers as we know them. I didn't miss the nice little Easter egg that Huck started learning his skill under an old pilot named Samuel Clemens. </p><p>The chemistry between Hallie and Huck is sizzling hot, and a formidable enemy posing as a friend raises the danger stakes sky high. My only misgiving at the very outset was scepticism that Widow Douglas would assign guardianship of her precious grandson to Huck without ever telling him beforehand. But before long the convincing storyline won me over. I'm willing to believe that desperation and fond nostalgia made her do it. </p><p>And what a swoon-worthy ending, as our heroine Hallie might say herself. </p><p>πππππ</p><p>Oh, by the way, do you consider yourself to belong in Team Tom or Team Huck? </p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-2466081361501847812024-02-07T05:30:00.002+11:002024-02-26T15:49:14.079+11:00'Nothing Else but Miracles' by Kate Albus<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIATOgDEa1hse81g-A2_SmA9E-kpeTX61h03sK0mAtRs59SDezMU4d8pXojndC39YGLCK7tFZ4mK6AXhDs8PfTCyA2tEj9otTr_P_dWI8QgXM1g90RqCIZpbkdmSgV9vE5vwpFTcAzPz1KIgtw767UnEPMSU-CVPcdhprqDdrFOQHo7-YE0XiUWGeemqI/s2040/nothingelsebutmiraclescover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2040" data-original-width="1530" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIATOgDEa1hse81g-A2_SmA9E-kpeTX61h03sK0mAtRs59SDezMU4d8pXojndC39YGLCK7tFZ4mK6AXhDs8PfTCyA2tEj9otTr_P_dWI8QgXM1g90RqCIZpbkdmSgV9vE5vwpFTcAzPz1KIgtw767UnEPMSU-CVPcdhprqDdrFOQHo7-YE0XiUWGeemqI/s320/nothingelsebutmiraclescover.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><b>From the author of <i>A Place to Hang the Moon</i> comes a hopeful World War II story about three scrappy siblings on the Lower East Side of Manhattan.</b><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>This is one of the several WW2 themed novels I plan to read this year. I'm glad the springboard is such a delightful, whimsical read. <br /></b><p></p><p><b>MY THOUGHTS:</b> </p><p>Like almost every other reviewer, I was a great fan of Kate Albus' first novel, <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2022/08/a-place-to-hang-moon-by-kate-albus.html">A Place to Hang the Moon</a>. I was anxious to read this second story ever since I found out it was another WW2 tale about kids on the home front, but set in New York instead of England. </p><p> I love this survival story about the three Byrne siblings with their marine-themed names. Dory's father is off fighting somewhere in France. Her brother Fish is technically too young to be in charge of Dory and little Pike, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Their section of New York City's Lower Eastside is quite snug and Mr. Byrne is confident that the neighborhood will provide his children with what they need. This stroke of optimism intrigued me from the get-go, since we so often hear the opposite, that you need to watch your back in impersonal and dangerous big cities. Paired with the title and the middle-school target audience, I anticipated a treat.</p><p>Of course sudden strokes of misfortune are part of war and storytelling alike. Mr. Reedy, the diabolical new landlord of their apartment block, heckles the trio with threats of an orphanage, at least for the younger two. That's when Dory and the boys sneak off to squat in an old ghost-hotel that's been boarded up for over half a century.</p><p>I wish this book had been in print back when I was homeschooling my kids. There is a treasure-trove of leads to follow up, including ethnic food from delis and cafes to find recipes for, and wonderful nostalgic old 1940s music to listen to.</p><p>However it's worth mentioning that some other reviewers including homeschooling parents panned the story because of mischievous Dory's flagrant disobedience. She flouts the authority of her brother and teachers whenever it suits her, which according to some readers gives a dubious message that misbehavior pays off.</p><p> While I see their point, they may be throwing the baby out with the bathwater. The cool flip side of their opinion is that sometimes going our own way, shrugging off conventional caution and pushing through fear may yield astounding rewards. There are times when sneakiness and boldness are required for original thinkers. Rather than being the naughty girl some people call her, Dory Byrne may, in fact, possess the germ of an entrepreneurial spirit. Dare I say that in this respect, she's an excellent example for kids.</p><p>I'm possibly biased to love this book, because Fish, Dory and Pike are an almost perfect gender, age and character match for my three children, who are now grown up. I've seen many interactions like the Byrne kids' play out for real in my own household. My older son treated his little brother with the same sort of tender sweetness Fish shows Pike, while their sister in the middle was more inclined to be blunt, practical and adventurous. That's another reason why I wish we had this during their childhood.</p><p>What more can I say? I love the comfort Dory takes on board from the strength and character she sees on the face of the Statue of Liberty. And as for a certain diamond, some call it an annoying red herring but I think it's a good twist; true to life and unpredictable.</p><p>Yes, I'd add this to my pile of warm and cosy reads. </p><p>πππππ </p></div>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-6456324793052860172024-01-31T05:30:00.002+11:002024-01-31T08:51:57.494+11:00'The Good Earth' by Pearl S Buck<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz0bBzAo1DvmW3I3x6AEQDn8-jnNq8PPtDdsHepMAqVqkONA55XYzJho2p-LFdunuY8XdKjCxLW96bSgqWveDkAgvBEkEf3gEWTmLIIlfLJsJrrad1hybHnd8hymaqC_Wkeh-AopVcEcxCajbl_VmxK0J9gU1L6eipALOVrxjddAskUCQmYV2UYXkunbM/s2000/goodearthcover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1496" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz0bBzAo1DvmW3I3x6AEQDn8-jnNq8PPtDdsHepMAqVqkONA55XYzJho2p-LFdunuY8XdKjCxLW96bSgqWveDkAgvBEkEf3gEWTmLIIlfLJsJrrad1hybHnd8hymaqC_Wkeh-AopVcEcxCajbl_VmxK0J9gU1L6eipALOVrxjddAskUCQmYV2UYXkunbM/s320/goodearthcover.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><b><br /></b><p></p><p><b>I've decided to work my way through a small stack of Pulitzer Prizewinning novels I've picked up here and there, before I realised what they share in common. This one was from a small, jam-packed secondhand bookshop near the sea at Port Eliot. I already knew, from a list I'd printed off, that it was the bestselling and Pulitzer winning fiction title the year my Dad was born. I knew it would be worth the few dollars I paid, regardless of what I thought of the story. </b></p><p><b>MY THOUGHTS: </b></p><p>This book was the bestselling fiction title of 1931 and 1932, winning Pearl Buck the 1932 Pulitzer Prize. In 1938 she also won the Nobel Literature Prize for her 'rich and truly epic descriptions of peasant life in China.' Eighty or ninety years down the track, I'm wondering if now she'd be more likely to be accused of cultural appropriation, for Buck was American, although she lived for a time with her missionary parents in China. Gone are the days a writer can simply spin an imaginative yarn based on meticulous research or close observation of others without getting in hot water.</p><p>Anyway, I digress.</p><p>This novel spans the life of its main character, Wang Lung, from the eve of his wedding day as a peasant farmer to his elderly years, as the head of a wealthy family. His passion for the land (the good earth of the title) combined with his savvy real-estate skills and the cleverness of his wife, earns him huge material success. But the story also takes its characters through some very rough patches of famine and war. </p><p>This book's outstanding character is Wang Lung's wife, the under-appreciated O-lan. He purchases her, sight unseen, from the House of Hwang, the local gentry. O-lan is one of their plainest slaves, since Wang couldn't afford a pretty girl. There is nothing remotely romantic about the transaction, except that prior to their first night together, Wang Lung decides to wash his entire body for the first time since his boyhood. </p><p>The young woman's exceptional frugality and initiative revolutionises his life, boosting Wang's comfort level in ways he'd never imagined. Still, he simply considers that he'd got what he paid for. O-lan even delivers her own babies quietly behind a closed door and then returns to her farmwork. No wonder we're often told the smile on her lips rarely reaches her eyes. She's regarded as slow and stupid because she's quiet, but it's evident to readers that her insightful wisdom keeps the household afloat. Whenever quiet O-lan speaks, we readers sit up and pay attention, knowing that she must consider the import worth the effort. </p><p> I think the crux of the story is that every upwards financial move chips away at a person's character, reducing our ability to enjoy what we've achieved. (Sorry to all the rich people out there.) Wang Lung's initial satisfaction with simple blessings from nature and willingness to work hard morphs over the years into a grasping, irritable, restless personality. Yet he retains enough of his early passion for the land to realise, too late, that his sons have lost sight of what he held most precious. There is a tinge of inevitability to the progression, since Wang makes sure to provide the boys with the culture and education he never had. Only later does it dawn on Wang Lung that in the process, their hearts were infused with entirely different values from his own early ones.</p><p>Whenever the urgency of simply living is no longer an issue, nothing suits Wang Lung, including his own wife. For when you've 'arrived' nothing that used to suffice seems good enough anymore.</p><p> He's really a total arse, but we are challenged to wonder whether that's just human nature. It's darkly comedic when the oldest son goes through a phase of moodiness because he has the leisure to. Then instead of feeling irritated because the kid is a pain in the neck, Wang Lung feels proud that his boy exhibits the disgruntled traits of rich young men. We're prompted to ponder a chicken-or-egg sort of a question. Does a person's personality shape their wealth building or does their wealth building shape their personality?</p><p>Toward the end of the book, we are told, 'The people who used to say Wang the Farmer now said Wang the Big Man or Wang the Rich Man.' Therefore he is technically a huge success, but does pay a price for something that brings no real happiness. </p><p>And the ending reminds us that we can't take any of it with us.</p><p>I'm giving this book just three stars because I found it so triggering, especially regarding the sorry plight of females. It left me with a melancholic readers' hangover. But I'm sure many other readers may give it five stars for the very same reasons. My back cover blurb calls it, 'Pearl Buck's magnificent Pulitzer prizewinning novel.' Well, lots of sordid and desperate stuff happens over a long time span, if that's what they mean by magnificent. I guess it is rather Biblical in its scope. Wang Lung's family saga puts me in mind of the patriarch Jacob's family in the Book of Genesis, with poor old O-lan taking on the Leah role. </p><p>Perhaps I'll put it out there as a timely recommendation for anyone who's ever felt taken for granted. No matter who we are, I can guarantee that O-lan and her daughters fare far, far worse. The horrific foot binding is just the tip of the iceberg. </p><p>πππ</p><p><br /></p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-64493706680665897822024-01-24T05:30:00.001+11:002024-01-24T14:20:28.163+11:00'The Mysterious Affair at Styles' by Agatha Christie<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidFRThTG97q_sn2j3lImF3b5QTGNbeORwlTeYSIvh4LVPakwW4RNjXnVM2B4o8xX3FDD3NTzcCI6N8nmIQfUe6f_Y4ycno6Wy8kcsihP3Z5ATYSdUZnNHeGx-ezNze4AIcAp1hPoxu-uBybDRZgg6p4H2rPH2zqB4JdOn9hu1_vs1D8aFcyFVLHWeJ0zM/s2040/mysteriousaffairatstylescover1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2040" data-original-width="1530" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidFRThTG97q_sn2j3lImF3b5QTGNbeORwlTeYSIvh4LVPakwW4RNjXnVM2B4o8xX3FDD3NTzcCI6N8nmIQfUe6f_Y4ycno6Wy8kcsihP3Z5ATYSdUZnNHeGx-ezNze4AIcAp1hPoxu-uBybDRZgg6p4H2rPH2zqB4JdOn9hu1_vs1D8aFcyFVLHWeJ0zM/s320/mysteriousaffairatstylescover1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><b><br /></b><p></p><p><b>This year's Read Christie Challenge has the changing decades of publication as its theme. And January's choice is this novel that set the ball rolling. </b></p><p><b>MY THOUGHTS:</b> </p><p>This is the story that started it all. It's Agatha Christie's debut mystery, written in 1916 and published in 1920. She first introduces us to Hercule Poirot, who is already considered one of the finest detectives of his day. Belgian refugees were fleeing from the thick of World War One and arriving in Christie's home town, to which we owe the conception of her most famous personality. We also meet other recurring characters; the ferret-featured Inspector Jimmy Japp, and the surprisingly youthful Captain Arthur Hastings, a 30-year-old soldier invalided home from the Front. I admit, I'd never imagined him as such a relative baby before.</p><p>Young Hastings is invited to stay at the grand country estate of Styles, where he spent time in his boyhood. His old friends, John and Lawrence Cavendish still live there with their stepmother, Mrs Inglethorp, although she has now married her male secretary, a far younger man everyone suspects of gold-digging. When poor Mrs Inglethorp suffers an agonising death in bed late one night, an autopsy reveals a dose of strychnine killed her. But was it administered to her nightcap cup of coffee or her supper mug of cocoa? The finger of suspicion points straight at her unpopular husband, but Inglethorp turns out to have a rock solid alibi. Yet it's unthinkable that her stepsons, grateful boarder or loyal staff members could have done it. Hastings' cleverest move in the whole story is dashing off to beg Poirot's help to figure out the mess. </p><p>Hastings sets up his pattern of being a bit of a doofus, for which he's teased by Poirot throughout all their subsequent cases, committing errors of extremes. He either skims the surface of clues where he should have probed deeper, or flails in way too deep, jumping to rash conclusions and letting his imagination run away with him. As Poirot says, Hastings has no instincts. And he's also a sucker for flattery.</p><p>I like this passage, in which Poirot muses about the crook and gives Hastings a backhanded compliment.</p><p></p><blockquote><p>'Yes, he is intelligent. But we must be more intelligent. We must be so intelligent that he does not suspect us of being intelligent at all.'</p><p>I acquiesced.</p><p>'There, mon ami, you will be of great assistance to me.'</p><p>I was pleased with the compliment. There were times when I hardly thought that Poirot appreciated me at my true worth. </p><p>'Yes,' he continued, staring at me thoughtfully. 'You will be invaluable.' </p></blockquote><p></p><p>Yet we readers are challenged not to be too hard on Hastings, since it's written in such a way that we probably won't piece together the solution from the patchwork of clues right in front of us either. I didn't, although I did foresee a nice little romance. </p><p>I enjoyed the intro to this edition, written by Agatha Christie herself. She describes how she was inspired to write this story by her wartime work in a Red Cross dispensary, similar to the character of Cynthia Murdoch in this story. Christie admits that her war work helped her establish poisons and drugs as her very favourite murder weapon in her stories. Turns out she felt far less confident with firearms. 'People can't, of course, be poisoned every time, but I'm happier when they are. Especially the drug that allows the victim to gasp out one, unnecessarily cryptic sentence before expiring.' </p><p>I'm glad she could be so tongue-in-cheek about what turned out to be such a brilliant career for her. And I agree that for a debut murder mystery by a young author, this was pretty good and watertight. </p><p>πππΒ½ </p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-77450384406327935582024-01-18T05:30:00.001+11:002024-01-18T05:30:00.135+11:00'Kilmeny of the Orchard' by Lucy Maud Montgomery<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3iA05Q1MyeyqCT4fYpZse-vvviOZ-M9MDfBhBaR8TbWiEEu4OacTONK3ALBnv1S1UpP7bVUQN6D1bd2GyInL4r25G-7owF-GpGMmmRxrrENfFJUY8SMRPLuX2R1hVDCBpzqMIYYIUXOFgMjUDCtGSBo7Smq_aTO2HIk-dC7s2Trl8mC-66wbLAWfWYFc/s2040/kilmenyoftheorchardcover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2040" data-original-width="1530" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3iA05Q1MyeyqCT4fYpZse-vvviOZ-M9MDfBhBaR8TbWiEEu4OacTONK3ALBnv1S1UpP7bVUQN6D1bd2GyInL4r25G-7owF-GpGMmmRxrrENfFJUY8SMRPLuX2R1hVDCBpzqMIYYIUXOFgMjUDCtGSBo7Smq_aTO2HIk-dC7s2Trl8mC-66wbLAWfWYFc/s320/kilmenyoftheorchardcover.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><b><br /></b><p></p><p><b>Later this year will be Lucy Maud's Montgomery's 150th birthday. It's an excellent reason to focus on her novels. The Race Who Knows Joseph Book Club on <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/02/drawbacks-and-benefits-of-bookstagram.html">Bookstagram</a> will be reading them in publication order throughout 2024. I decided to join them, starting with this story from her youth.</b></p><p><b>MY THOUGHTS: </b></p><p>This short romance novel was from early in Montgomery's writing career. I believe she wrote it in her teens, and it was published in 1910, not long after Anne of Green Gables. Now, sit tight while I try to explain why this story makes me see red. </p><p>Eric Marshall is a young university graduate and dreamboat; a total package sort of guy all the girls drool over. And he's already being quizzed by his father and friends, at the age of 24, as to why he isn't inclined to engage himself to one of the many lovely girls he knows. The answer turns out to be that he's waiting for absolute perfection. </p><p>Anyway, Eric accepts a plea from his ailing friend, Larry, to come and do some substitute school teaching until he recuperates. There in the little backwater town on Prince Edward Island, Eric chances upon a lonely and romantic old orchard where a reclusive, stunningly beautiful girl plays violin like an angel. She turns out to be Kilmeny Gordon, whose initial reaction to Eric is one of sheer terror. She's never set eyes on another man outside of her immediate family and the egg peddler, let alone one as drop-dead gorgeous as Eric. They strike up a friendship which becomes rock solid in a matter of days. </p><p>Eric has finally discovered a girl whose beauty ticks his high standards. Her wide-eyed naivety, and inclination to treat his every word as an oracle probably exceeds his wildest dreams. She's a one-dimensional character but that suits him, for he is another.</p><p>Kilmeny cannot communicate except through her violin and her trusty slate and chalk. Her backstory involves an intriguing possibility for her muteness, since there is absolutely nothing wrong with her vocal apparatus. Even though she quickly grows to love Eric wholeheartedly, Kilmeny refuses to marry him unless, by some miracle, she acquires the power of speech. She believes it would be unfair on him to put up with a mute wife. (There's a nice bit of ableism right there, but hold on, the 'isms' keep coming.) </p><p>Eric's good friend David Baker, a clever speech specialist, deems Kilmeny's silence psychological, which makes the whole stalemate extra tricky. </p><p>Maybe I'd rank this book higher if not for the plight of poor Neil, the boy of Italian descent who's partly Kilmeny's adopted cousin and partly a convenient plot device. The Gordon family are convinced they've always done right by Neil, who was born beneath their roof. They even, 'had him baptised, same as any Christian child.' Nice one, dudes! Reading between the lines, it's clear to the modern reader (although apparently not to LMM herself), that he's always suffered filthy racism and been kept at arm's length by his nearest and dearest, who just can't see what they've done to him. Neil, in his own tragic way, bears a 'curse of the innocent' as much as Kilmeny is said to do. </p><p>It's no wonder he has a sullen countenance! And I totally get why, after loving and caring for Kilmeny for so long, he'd develop an intense grudge against Eric, this smug Marty Stu character who breezes in and wins everyone's hearts after three measly weeks. </p><p>Neil's running away is treated as a blessing, which elicits a sigh of relief all round. No member of the Gordon family will try to track him down, even though he's been with them since he drew his first breath. Uncle Thomas' self-righteous, 'We have cared for him as our own...' is super-hypocritical in light of his earlier instruction to Kilmeny not to make an equal of Neil. Yet he can't see it. You see, to them, the tainted Mediterranean blood that flows through Neil's veins makes him a potentially volatile, embarrassing second-class citizen. My gosh, the whole Gordon family attitude is appalling! </p><p>But hey, it's happily ever after for everyone but Neil. Eric the newcomer, backed by his father's considerable Canadian lineage and wealth, wins the girl and nobody is happier to see the back of Neil than he. Kilmeny can at last give her fingers a break from scribbling so fast on that slate. She was as chatty and effusive with her pencil as <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2020/07/anne-of-green-gables-by-lucy-maud.html">Anne of Green Gables</a> was with her tongue, and wrote such very long speeches, Eric must have waited around twiddling his thumbs a lot. And there is absolutely no need for Uncle Thomas and Aunt Janet to take a good, hard look at themselves, since Neil has conveniently removed himself from the picture. 'We have made more of him than we should,' Thomas decides. Charming way to regard your own adopted son.</p><p>(Sigh) Although I aim to overlook the standards of their own eras when ranking old novels, sometimes one comes along that pushes my buttons a bit too hard. My low score here is mostly about the triggers, but I also feel Maud was still finding her voice and perfecting her craft when she wrote this book. She's given Kilmeny's parents a melodramatic history which puts me in mind of the sensational stories that Anne and her friends wrote for their Story Club. And Kilmeny and Eric's relationship is a bit too saccharine sweet. She's a perfect fairy tale princess and he's Prince Charming. Lucy Maud Montgomery does Disney here. It wouldn't surprise me if Maud ended up agreeing with me, since she eventually decided love scenes were a challenge for her. This is probably her most lovey-dovey attempt at fiction. </p><p>I'm willing to wonder if Montgomery might have even agreed with my two-star ranking for this early novel of hers, and lampooned it herself down the track. Overall, I'm so glad she became a more sensitive writer who gave her characters far more depth as she progressed. </p><p>ππ </p><p><br /></p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-24780997652802517622024-01-11T05:30:00.001+11:002024-01-11T05:30:00.131+11:00'Orley Farm' by Anthony Trollope<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTYaRLPjNC5x2vTvn4wGZkVpc4ob1vLiVwYycCe41pLyxb45QwNSpYNV0vya4v7wNzK5dRO2D19T-YNNwkhq-46MQn37WJ2eKldRR9XCirj_E9MmpoIzydh85SEWOGmytPJzPleNWemt2HaJbOEupTZ0xphGrQrk3NKb9d1dMpel-4O_N60m2ytJVlJv4/s2040/orleyfarmpic.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2040" data-original-width="1530" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTYaRLPjNC5x2vTvn4wGZkVpc4ob1vLiVwYycCe41pLyxb45QwNSpYNV0vya4v7wNzK5dRO2D19T-YNNwkhq-46MQn37WJ2eKldRR9XCirj_E9MmpoIzydh85SEWOGmytPJzPleNWemt2HaJbOEupTZ0xphGrQrk3NKb9d1dMpel-4O_N60m2ytJVlJv4/s320/orleyfarmpic.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b><p></p><p><b>It's been years since I read a novel by Anthony Trollope. Back in my twenties I read a couple of the Barchester chronicles which I remember finding a trifle slow and meandering. I thought they might be more suitable for my dad's demographic than mine. This far down the track, I'm ready to try again. Especially since I've seen them recommended by several bookish friends on Instagram. </b></p><p><b>Trollope wrote 47 novels! He had an intensely productive work ethic. I won't necessarily aim to read them all, as I'm doing with his peer, Charles Dickens' major works. At that rate, reviewing one each year would take me until I'm older than 100! On the other hand, reading nothing but Anthony Trollope books back to back would take just a few years, but no way am I doing that either. I'll read one every so often, to help fill my quota of Victorian novels. That's all I'm committing to :) </b></p><p><b>So rather than tackling one of his series, I'll start with the occasional stand-alone title. I'd seen this one recommended, so got hold of a free kindle version. </b></p><p><b>MY THOUGHTS:</b> </p><p>I ripped through this massive Victorian court case novel. What makes it so compelling is that the 'bad guy' is the wronged party, and the lovely, gracious lady is the 'crook.' Trollope is playing around with his readers' headspaces, making us want to see justice averted. </p><p>The backstory occurs twenty years prior to this novel's start. When elderly Sir Joseph Mason dies, everyone assumes that his eldest son, also named Joseph, will inherit both family properties; the smaller but productive Orley Farm along with the large family seat, Groby Park. Indeed, that's what Joseph Junior has been led all his life to expect.</p><p>However, old Sir Joseph recently married a very young woman and now has a baby named Lucius, who's a full forty years younger than his half-brother. A codicil was added to the will, bequeathing Orley Farm, the smaller property, to his infant son. Joseph Mason angrily disputes the will after the old man's death but loses the case. Peace has reigned for twenty years, but something outrageous is about to be unleashed. Fast forward to the start of this book.</p><p>Samuel Dockwrath, a disgruntled former tenant of some Orley Farm land, approaches Joseph Mason with strong evidence in his favour that's been lying dormant for two decades. It appears that Lady Mason forged the signatures on the will, anxious to provide for her own baby son. (For some time, Trollope makes her guilt crystal clear without stating it outright, so this is no spoiler.) Now Lady Mason, a valued friend and neighbour to many, may be arrested as a felon. And Lucius, a forward-thinking young experimental farmer whose high principles tend to be black and white, has no inkling of his mother's dodgy maneuvre on his behalf. </p><p>We don't want to see her suffer the consequences of a crime based on the tenderest love, which may include deportation to the colonies. And we certainly don't want to see grumpy, greedy Joseph Mason take over Orley Farm, which he'll rent out to the smug and odious Dockwrath. Not when his young half-brother has exciting plans to maximise its potential. So are we readers supposed to hope the lie will win out? Lucius Mason once rejected his mother's suggestion to consider studying for the law, since he has an idea that all lawyers are basically dishonest. Little does he know his mother may count on that very thing, for his sake! </p><p>Mr Thomas Furnival is the barrister defending Lady Mason. He's fallen prey to her charm, although he's convinced of her guilt, and his devotion to her cause has caused friction in his own marriage. (Oh dear, many of us could tell you that passive aggression and sulky guilt trips don't work on guys, Mrs Furnival. It just makes them uptight and defensive, and therefore more inclined to blame you to justify their own behaviour.) </p><p>Sir Peregrine Orme, the local landed gentry, is the stately old widower in the mansion next door. He falls in love with Lady Mason and longs to rescue her from her plight by marrying her, to the chagrin of his grandson, young Peregrine. And Sir Peregrine's daughter-in-law, Edith Orme, is one of the loveliest characters in the book; a gentle and gracious friend who takes doing a friend's dirty work to a whole new level.</p><p>It's interesting how both opposing parties use scripture to strongly justify their questionable attitudes. Lady Mason reasons that she was taking the precedent of the biblical matriarch Rebekah, who was prepared to cheat to gain an inheritance for her beloved son, who would otherwise have been left out in the cold. And arguably the principled and energetic young Lucius turns out to be a 'better' heir than his vitriolic older half-brother, just as Jacob trumps Esau. For his own part, Joseph Mason is all about wreaking righteous vengeance on the head of the woman who prevented him receiving his full inheritance. This dour, pitiless man prides himself on carrying out the letter of the law. 'All that I have done from my youth upward,' were his thoughts about himself. </p><p>There are also plenty of amusing side-characters, such as the travelling merchant, Mr Kantwise, who carts around what sounds like the Victorian version of an IKEA ensemble and assures everyone that wooden indoor furniture is going out of vogue, and iron is where it's at. What I appreciate about Anthony Trollope is his fairness in showing the strengths and weaknesses of all his characters. His narrator sometimes tends to interrupt the flow of conversations, but since his voice has the sense of humour I enjoy, it's all good. </p><p>Trollope is very much easier to read than his contemporary, Charles Dickens. This book took me a steady fortnight to read rather than the full month I'd expected to put aside, based on Dickens. The ethical dilemmas and awkward relationships of Orley Farm guaranteed that I kept turning pages, but I still can't decide whether I consider the ending of this one disappointing or satisfactory. Perhaps all that can be said is that it is, in a way, inevitable. </p><p>ππππΒ½</p><p> </p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-17895268781029404272024-01-04T05:30:00.001+11:002024-01-04T05:30:00.238+11:00My 2024 Reading Agenda<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhez8Ha4kKZd2dFZfTK29TRLymZ-wTgMegye3ebeCODN4Okf1e8q7Gm8eiYNVz1al8K2JCPc0xdAl4Rrb4wFWqvJXfecNEd244YnPoljVY18sallUTgYeKzf2KpQ4THz_9R12H4l7qMJU36ds5WanMmYs9DgwhXmyQ7OnkyBCrAsf7ECx5kHKhKKxcmAe8/s1350/ourlittlestreetlibrary1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhez8Ha4kKZd2dFZfTK29TRLymZ-wTgMegye3ebeCODN4Okf1e8q7Gm8eiYNVz1al8K2JCPc0xdAl4Rrb4wFWqvJXfecNEd244YnPoljVY18sallUTgYeKzf2KpQ4THz_9R12H4l7qMJU36ds5WanMmYs9DgwhXmyQ7OnkyBCrAsf7ECx5kHKhKKxcmAe8/s320/ourlittlestreetlibrary1.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><p>Happy New Year, friends and followers. We welcomed 2024 by watching fireworks on the beach at Brighton after a free train ride. </p><p>My most delightful news is that we've finally erected a new pride and joy. This street library is the carpentry project my hubby has been working on for quite some time. It is now up and running out by our street side fence. We've had it operating for less than a week and already I'm finding it great fun to facilitate excellent quality free books to the community. Ever since I first started hunting down these little free libraries, I've dreamed of joining the network. It's finally happened. Such a wonderful outreach for a bookworm, don't you think? </p><p>Incidentally, it's also been set up as a Pokemon pit stop. A passionate neighbour on our community chat FB group came and did that. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk1AZClV1M1Suhuc1Fo1xJ9UexGY9KoVVpDLVHpJMh46xyf6GT7QkptZdYp18xe9CWApehw-QA5VGBfNnG-4BlXzXNDi8db49nb2gdvV51tPLUb57li7e67CFSV5ugpXYVQP64VlrKX0Ub4yhWuTQ2M6MUDZGJIPWbPa_jI4jh_aXdYL_wzMivlSZ0nQ0/s2040/ourlittlestreetlibrary2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2040" data-original-width="1530" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk1AZClV1M1Suhuc1Fo1xJ9UexGY9KoVVpDLVHpJMh46xyf6GT7QkptZdYp18xe9CWApehw-QA5VGBfNnG-4BlXzXNDi8db49nb2gdvV51tPLUb57li7e67CFSV5ugpXYVQP64VlrKX0Ub4yhWuTQ2M6MUDZGJIPWbPa_jI4jh_aXdYL_wzMivlSZ0nQ0/s320/ourlittlestreetlibrary2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Now, I've been dedicated to delivering a weekly, book themed blog post on Thursdays or Fridays for quite some time. 2023's is complete. I'll have another crack at it for 2024, although a few factors might slow me down. </p><p>1) I've had a hankering to re-read some good novels which I've already reviewed. It won't be necessary to give them two reviews. </p><p>2) I might spend some time working on my fiction projects. I'll share more about this when (or if) they come to fruition.</p><p>3) It turns out I've been functioning for at least the last few years on an empty tank. I've started 2024 with a much-needed iron infusion. I didn't know how urgent it was until I had some blood tests the day before Christmas Eve. They were my first since 2019. Oooh, now I understand why I've been puffing and panting while climbing slopes and doing housework. Maybe I should slow down in general. </p><p>However, I'll see how I go. Since this blog is one of my favourite hobbies, I may well end up with 52 posts after all. If you'd like email notifications whenever I add a new post, just click the subscribe button in this blog's toolbar. I peomise you'll never be spammed, and you won't miss a single one either, however frequently or infrequently I post.</p><p>For the past few years, I've been adding a new blog page for the start of each new year. In 2022 it was my <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/p/trixie-belden-marathon.html">Trixie Belden Marathon</a>, which was a burst of nostalgia I adored. Last year at the start of 2023 I added my <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/p/agatha-christie-queen-of-crime.html">Agatha Christie, Queen of Crime</a> page, which is more of an ongoing, slow burn. For 2024 I've decided to add <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/p/spiritual-classics.html">Spiritual Classics</a>. That'll have to be uplifting, right? I've already added a list of older posts to kick it off, and you'll see that fiction titles trump non-fiction for now. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4h2-cCv-cqMEYPPlsTTtcesQnZDL2vKWPv5JZDS5WyJoDWDncs06nPvvIhtnnf5NkJpnERMaWvpTiaPSI6ww9UPRw-bCXlTTXdqO7euQo01tZFKR4csy67X1wnmHtn2u81BKKhdGj6UkjDWEJ9E78VzKT-fOVof30z7PZSoe98BQ5K2BvZ1QPueQP19I/s2040/pulitzersfor2024.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2040" data-original-width="1530" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4h2-cCv-cqMEYPPlsTTtcesQnZDL2vKWPv5JZDS5WyJoDWDncs06nPvvIhtnnf5NkJpnERMaWvpTiaPSI6ww9UPRw-bCXlTTXdqO7euQo01tZFKR4csy67X1wnmHtn2u81BKKhdGj6UkjDWEJ9E78VzKT-fOVof30z7PZSoe98BQ5K2BvZ1QPueQP19I/s320/pulitzersfor2024.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p>I'll finish off with a rough agenda for the start of this year. No doubt I'll latch onto something unanticipated which will snowball. But for now, I have these four Pulitzer prizewinning titles picked up from various places, so I'll factor them into my early reads of the year. I've also acquired a good handful of WW2 fiction, including a couple that were gifts. It's time I got stuck into them. And of course I'll include some Victorian novels. I haven't missed a year of at least one <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/p/what-dickens.html">Dickens novel</a> since 2017 when I started my quest to read all his major works. It's taking a while, but too much Dickens all at once makes my head explode. </p><p>I hope you'll stick with me, enjoy my reviews and discussions, and share your own reading journey during 2024. </p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-57523342733858963082023-12-28T05:30:00.004+11:002024-02-26T16:17:37.318+11:002023 Top Ten Wrap-Up<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXOz-3-l1i9GA4pfk8LUU6M7ZZwov6HTF2CGAyICZlmOtVWEfCGGtT9H5YC41vhi3Y_hXGL69xwEec7LMN6LPKb5NCoYxTC6jGKVCHHyNm1bO4fZxjdipxQARkJ_FB2kxd0JNTI0oB6MGbTXGNIdd7q6cwrvL1d4hLkWdL5Fg704nKKXcsp5wIWT2wD9M/s2040/christmasstack2023.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2040" data-original-width="1530" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXOz-3-l1i9GA4pfk8LUU6M7ZZwov6HTF2CGAyICZlmOtVWEfCGGtT9H5YC41vhi3Y_hXGL69xwEec7LMN6LPKb5NCoYxTC6jGKVCHHyNm1bO4fZxjdipxQARkJ_FB2kxd0JNTI0oB6MGbTXGNIdd7q6cwrvL1d4hLkWdL5Fg704nKKXcsp5wIWT2wD9M/s320/christmasstack2023.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><b><br /></b><p></p><p><b>It's hard to believe another year is almost done and dusted. I'm happy with my reading and reflections throughout 2023 and I've also ticked off enough Creative Writing and Communication subjects at Tabor College to acquire my Graduate Diploma. At the end of each year I re-assess whether I should keep this blog going, since it's time consuming. The same twofold reason makes me say YES again. Since I'm always writing anyway, it's another good outlet for me to hone my craft and rave about books at the same time, which I've loved doing from the time I was tiny. </b></p><p><b>Here, in no particular order, are the ten shining lights of 2023, from among the 50+ books I read and reviewed. Please click on the titles, for my reviews of each. </b></p><p><b>1) <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/11/demon-copperhead-by-barbara-kingsolver.html">Demon Copperhead</a>.</b> Barbara Kingsolver's award-winning retelling of Dickens' classic novel ticks every box. It's a modern mirror in every way. The young hero Damon Fields is arguably even more charismatic than his model, David Copperfield. And this story's counterparts to Dickens' other characters make me smile and prove that human nature doesn't change. (This was a library book and therefore not in my stack photo.) </p><p><b>2) <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/10/little-dorrit-part-1-by-charles-dickens.html">Little Dorrit.</a></b> This year's pick from Dickens himself has put the grim Marshalsea Prison on the map of places to visit while in London. The story aimed to show the corrupting and personality-changing influence of big money, especially in the form of sudden windfalls. It is also full of deeply buried family secrets and sudden disaster.</p><p><b>3) <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/07/adam-bede-by-george-eliot.html">Adam Bede</a>.</b> More Victorian drama, this time from George Eliot. I appreciate her charming pastoral touches and her pioneer spirit in venturing to focus on working class families, rather than the gentry who were normally highlighted in novels of her era. Eliot's books are valuable historical documents as well as excellent stories. This one is all about the huge impact of youthful indiscretions and the struggle to earn back trust once it is lost.</p><p><b>4) <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/06/treasures-of-snow-and-other-winter-reads.html">Treasures of the Snow</a>.</b> The snowy mountains of Switzerland make a great backdrop for this juvenile tale of unforgiveness and revenge. The main girl and boy, Annette and Lucien, are both excellent protagonists-cum-antagonists. And their two elderly mentors, Annette's grandmother and Lucien's unlikely friend, the gruff old man of the mountain, drop some truly wise lines we are never too old to take to heart. </p><p><b>5) <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/06/the-man-who-was-thursday-by-g-k.html">The Man Who was Thursday</a></b> G.K. Chesterton's teeming and colourful imagination brings us a fanciful, picaresque version of his own turn-of-the-century London. Gabriel Syme is a double-agent opposed to anarchy who completely misrepresents the characters of his fellow agents, who are all named after the days of the week. </p><p><b>6) <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/03/oliver-twist-by-charles-dickens.html">Oliver Twist</a>.</b> I read two Dickens titles this year and they both make it onto my annual Best-Of list. This sweet and humble 11-year-old finds himself the pivot around which all types of low-life from the London underworld swarm. And they all have their reasons. He's in almost too deep to be rescued for the peaceful, respectable lifestyle which he craves.</p><p><b>7) <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/12/the-adventures-of-huckleberry-finn-by.html">The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn</a>.</b> This must be my year for finally catching up with famous classics about exceptional boys. This is an amazing tale about a misguided morality issue, and the 13-year-old whose heart prompts him to do the right thing, while his conscience accuses him of doing serious wrong. The great Mississippi River forms the backdrop of the action. </p><p><b>8) <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/02/the-grapes-of-wrath-by-john-steinbeck.html">The Grapes of Wrath</a>.</b> Anger is a great prompt for social justice, when the right person wields his pen. John Steinbeck was furious enough about the plight of the displaced tenant farmers who were forced interstate to find work during the Great Depression to create the ultimate Dust Bowl novel. Several members of the down-and-out Joad family have become mouthpieces and icons of a movement which was just ripe to happen. Especially Ma, the family cornerstone; and Tom, the straight-talker with his heart for revolution. </p><p><b>9) <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/01/the-happy-prisoner-by-monica-dickens.html">The Happy Prisoner</a>.</b> I read this one way back in January and it's remained in my Top Ten all year. Oliver North, a young war veteran who has lost his leg, narrates this story from his bed where he's recuperating surrounded by quirky family members. The fact that his voice held <i>me</i> captive throughout the novel proves that any modest setting will suffice for a truly witty and winning personality to shine. And we can benefit from Oliver's hands-on revelations about busting bad moods. </p><p><b>10) <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/11/the-adventures-of-tom-sawyer-by-mark.html">The Adventures of Tom Sawyer</a>.</b> The more I read over the conversations of these impressionable, adventurous, superstitious and energetic boys, the more waves of nostalgia wash over me. We don't have to have been alive in the mid-1800s to remember how seriously we took our play-acting before we hit High School. If we have forgotten, I reckon the chats of Tom's gang will whiz us back decades. </p><p><b>So those are my ten top reads of 2023 and when I looked over my spread of options, they were all clear stand-outs. </b></p><p><b><a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/04/spare-by-prince-harry.html">Honourable Mention - Spare</a> </b>I'm giving this controversial memoir a quick plug because when I revisited all this year's books, I re-read my prediction that it might be among my top ten reads. Sorry Harry, it's not even close. Yet if I extended my list to 15 or 20 it might be a contender. In spite of all the flak he got for writing it, I can see how Prince Harry felt a humanitarian obligation to lift the lid on his disturbing lifestyle which made him an exhibit just for being born, and a magnet for the world's heartless media. </p><p><b>Wooden Spoon</b> - Naw, I won't be mean enough to award one this year. </p><p><b> I wish you all happy reading and holidays as we swing into 2024. I'll touch base early in January with my plans for this blog in the year to come. </b></p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-42937044166403723612023-12-21T05:30:00.001+11:002023-12-21T05:30:00.124+11:00'Hercule Poirot's Christmas' by Agatha Christie<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBEHGpt8s4oEwiDAVPZAt-T4TAipGcUz1y7WnohNcnL9ggrU6SY3519TKc9QSt25_3BuGn9wSTKMRudkMuBbkrWv0fl_JTMPS6xnj5_STe4z821lMuFCFC0iAe1eiKg3EcwTJ5nqbxCweeai0F0am2HYdtotgqPHk0n1n_Loaohg8bpjWzzv_bAt-TC1E/s2000/XmasAgathaChristie.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1496" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBEHGpt8s4oEwiDAVPZAt-T4TAipGcUz1y7WnohNcnL9ggrU6SY3519TKc9QSt25_3BuGn9wSTKMRudkMuBbkrWv0fl_JTMPS6xnj5_STe4z821lMuFCFC0iAe1eiKg3EcwTJ5nqbxCweeai0F0am2HYdtotgqPHk0n1n_Loaohg8bpjWzzv_bAt-TC1E/s320/XmasAgathaChristie.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><b><br /></b><p></p><p><b>I never planned to review two Agatha Christie novels back to back on two consecutive weeks, but hey, it's Christmas week. It seemed a no-brainer to give the slot to this quick and entertaining Yuletide murder. </b></p><p><b>MY THOUGHTS:</b> </p><p>This could be called catastrophe at Christmas time.</p><p>Simeon Lee is a detestable old man who invites his adult sons and their wives home to Gorston Hall for a Christmas family reunion, seemingly out of sudden sentimentality in his old age. But really it's to insult them, set them off against each other and enjoy the resulting mayhem. This is arguably a book about reaping what we sow. Old Simeon gets what's coming to him in one of Agatha Christie's more gruesome murder scenes. </p><p>At the start, Christie dedicates this mystery to her brother-in-law, James, who'd joked that her crime scenes were getting a bit anemic in his opinion and needed the occasional brutal bloodbath to spice them up. Agatha hoped this would tick his boxes. She has Simeon Lee's throat cut with a loud, spine-chilling scream and blood spattered over upturned furniture and smashed ornaments. And when the family burst in on the scene, Simeon Lee's daughter-in-law, Lydia, quotes Lady Macbeth when she remarks, 'Who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him.' </p><p>Of course it's almost farcical that Lydia would have been cool and collected enough to drop such a corny line at such a shocking moment, rather than just a one-word oath or a scream. I guess for Agatha it all compounded the effect of James' Christmas gift. </p><p>In all honesty, this story is a seasonal melodrama from start to finish. The son characters are all typecast caricatures. Was the murderer Alfred, the gentle conformer who claims to love his dad? Or David, the sensitive artist who loathes his father because of the heartache inflicted on his gentle mother? How about George, the tubby politician whose parasitic lifestyle is threatened by Simeon? Or Harry, the flashy and arrogant Prodigal Son who throws his weight around with no scruples about who he offends? Could any of their wives possibly have committed a crime so appalling? Maybe it was Pilar, Simeon's only granddaughter, the bloodthirsty young woman with Spanish heritage from her other family connection. </p><p>Police Superintendent Sugden is on the case and getting off to a thorough start of investigations. The Chief Constable, Colonel Johnson steps in to lend a hand, and his houseguest turns out to be none other than... drumroll... Hercule Poirot! </p><p>The setting isn't as festive as I'd expected. There is not a decked-out tree or wreath in sight, although as the characters themselves point out, the savage slaughter of their patriarch dampens the jollity. I just thought some trimmings might have been put up beforehand, but perhaps if anyone had the nerve to hang a sprig of mistletoe anywhere near this resentful, brooding mob, it might have backfired badly and caused another murder. </p><p>The colonel is initially surprised to be summoned to a murder scene at Christmas time, as he assumes no crimes take place in a holiday period of cheer and goodwill. Poirot argues that irritability brought on by overeating and subsequent indigestion makes Christmas a prime time for murder, because people who don't feel inclined to be amiable have put themselves under more of a strain to appear so. His conjecture seems spot-on with the Lee family. </p><p>I was pleased with the revelation of the murderer. I'd truly been wondering how Christie could pull off her Wow! factor with such standard suspects, any of whom would elicit a 'Meh,' from me. She manages though. It's a cheeky and audacious effort by the crook, accidentally helped along by the red herring masquerades of certain others. Taken altogether, the whole set-up of this one is way over the top, but I think Agatha Christie knew a crime writer can get away with lots at Christmas time when readers are inclined to be more indulgent.</p><p>πππ </p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-84161873144760204572023-12-14T05:30:00.001+11:002023-12-14T05:30:00.130+11:00'Murder at the Vicarage' by Agatha Christie<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUE_2sPsYYEHFFwHqxXWX2hyjB0l99C0leUk1rS_7u9KimbZEwfmLZjCxrVgaPYO3G54i91VllPJT-E0m-HVmcmfFaSY1eUMIe4Y8G4dXaemMhC7h7AAMw5xwkdZBNBMi3_sx0zXop40S-HEm_Cnbz_Sxu8KR8Y6ts5X0D0qbHfe2jO1NW4cZ-khV0_LQ/s2000/murderinthevicaragecover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1496" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUE_2sPsYYEHFFwHqxXWX2hyjB0l99C0leUk1rS_7u9KimbZEwfmLZjCxrVgaPYO3G54i91VllPJT-E0m-HVmcmfFaSY1eUMIe4Y8G4dXaemMhC7h7AAMw5xwkdZBNBMi3_sx0zXop40S-HEm_Cnbz_Sxu8KR8Y6ts5X0D0qbHfe2jO1NW4cZ-khV0_LQ/s320/murderinthevicaragecover.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b><p></p><b>βAnyone who murdered Colonel Protheroe,β declared the parson, brandishing a carving knife above a joint of roast beef, βwould be doing the world at large a favour!β It was a careless remark for a man of the cloth. And one which was to come back and haunt the clergyman just a few hours later β when the colonel was found shot dead in the clergymanβs study. But as Miss Marple soon discovers, the whole village seems to have had a motive to kill Colonel Protheroe.</b><p><b>MY THOUGHTS:</b> </p><p>This is the first full length novel featuring Miss Marple and takes place in the village she calls home, St Mary Mead. The story is narrated by the vicar, Leonard Clement, who has a likeable blend of wisdom, curiosity and self-deprecation. He makes such wry observations as, 'I preceded to follow the example of the devil in quoting scripture for his own ends.' </p><p>One of Len's church wardens, Colonel Lucius Protheroe, is discovered shot through the head in the study of the vicarage. The thing about Colonel Protheroe is that nobody really liked him, including his wife and daughter. Protheroe was a dour and outspoken advocate for a more militant Christianity, with far stronger punishment in the name of justice. Needless to say, that attitude got lots of people's backs up. </p><p>He was also a tedious know-it-all. Dr Stone, the archaeologist, says, 'Because he had read a few books, he set himself up as an authority, against a man who has made a lifelong study of the subject.' We all know the type. Colonel Protheroe was one of those guys. </p><p>Motives for Protheroe's murder are everywhere. In fact, several people recently stated that the world would be far better off without him, including the vicar himself. Len was using exaggerated hyperbole, which he regrets, especially after the murder took place in his own house. But presumably, some other person meant every word. </p><p>At first I found it a stretch to believe that so many people would tell the vicar, of all people, that they wished the colonel would die. Surely it would make more sense for the real murderer not to say it outright at all. Miss Marple's nephew, Raymond West, agrees with me. He says, 'Of course, if your subconscious were really planning to do him in, it would never have allowed you to make that remark.' Does that general rule hold true for everyone who vocalised that wish? Hmm, maybe or maybe not. </p><p>The rude and abrasive Inspector Slack is assigned to the case, but he has not half the skill of the modest but astute Miss Marple, whose favourite hobby is people watching. The twist, which only she manages to unravel, is very smart. Some slick and clever crime is uncovered.</p><p>As an interesting philosophical aside, the local GP, Dr Haydock muses that some poor criminals may have medical conditions that cause them to commit crimes they cannot really help. This was 1930 and nearly a century later, the issue of such accountability is still a bit of a grey area. Haydock is so passionate about the subject, I wonder if he was the mouthpiece for one of Dame Agatha's own hobby horses. </p><p>We get to meet the illustrious Raymond West, who is often merely mentioned by his aunt in other stories. He's portrayed as one of those pretentious, down-his-nose literary authors. (The sort who writes poems with no capital letters.) </p><p>I also found out what trencher salts and tazzas are; knowledge I never realised I lacked until now. Friends, don't assume you know the name of everything that may sit upon a table top. </p><p>Overall, it's a great debut for a lovable sleuth, but a bit sad to think that such unlovable people as Colonel Protheroe exist in the world, not to mention filling church eldership roles. The ironic phrase, 'It couldn't have happened to a nicer guy,' fits him to a tee. </p><p>ππππ</p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-28320906892755988072023-12-07T05:30:00.051+11:002023-12-07T05:30:00.130+11:00'The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn' by Mark Twain<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFN-LehoeZQuSMT622URUn_406iUUyep_L0PB6YIBZWkax2oJTI42eOmunPWcJFDKtzQiwzpEnTTLobAtBSNETeU8YgSOKDt_21kBb1Tjba1D7qy5ANvffJBLhTbYJtX-0k8QAmv5nlrq6smYQSZROedr8TQJwXi47u0t8NrKX3WEzLVyy0f-kZZcctc/s2000/huckfinncover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1496" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFN-LehoeZQuSMT622URUn_406iUUyep_L0PB6YIBZWkax2oJTI42eOmunPWcJFDKtzQiwzpEnTTLobAtBSNETeU8YgSOKDt_21kBb1Tjba1D7qy5ANvffJBLhTbYJtX-0k8QAmv5nlrq6smYQSZROedr8TQJwXi47u0t8NrKX3WEzLVyy0f-kZZcctc/s320/huckfinncover.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><br /><b>As promised, I'm following up my reflections about <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/11/the-adventures-of-tom-sawyer-by-mark.html">Tom Sawyer</a> with fresh ones about Huckleberry Finn. I knew it's generally regarded to be the superior book and looked forward to putting it to the test. </b><p></p><p><b>MY THOUGHTS:</b></p><p>Whoa, I can see why this is regarded as one of the best anti-racial American classics ever written. What an unforgettable epiphany. </p><p>This book immediately differs from <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/11/the-adventures-of-tom-sawyer-by-mark.html">The Adventures of Tom Sawyer</a>. Huckleberry Finn tells his story first person, which gives it an intimate touch that suits the soul-searching tussles awaiting him. Reading every line in Huck's unique vernacular really unites us with this boy. His keen intellect is hampered in expression by his lack of education, yet he still finds an eloquent way. </p><p>At the conclusion of his friend Tom's story, we left our hero chafing under his own generous reward, which seems to him more like a stroke of misfortune. The Widow Douglas, grateful that young Huck saved her from the evil plans of Injun Joe, has resolved to adopt and 'sivilise' him. But her strict and nitpicky sister, Miss Watson, moves in and hijacks Operation Reform. It's all too much cultural overload for poor Huck. What's more, his sole source of respect in the eyes of other boys, his freedom, has been snatched away. </p><p>Meanwhile, Huck contends with a dangerous obstacle that privileged boys like Tom wouldn't dream of; his drunken, abusive father. Mr Finn's redeeming qualities have been drowned in grog, if they ever existed to start with. Instead of feeling grateful and amazed that his son has been offered an opportunity for education, accommodation and stability with no strings attached, he burns with bitter resentment and makes it his goal to pull the plug on it. 'Pap' Finn is, perhaps, one of literature's biggest losers. And he really wants to get his grubby hands on Huck's proceeds of the treasure that was shared between him and Tom. </p><p>Feeling like the meat in an incredibly explosive sandwich, it's no wonder poor Huck decides his only recourse is to fake his own death and run away. Bumping into Miss Watson's escaped slave, Jim, on Jackson's Island, is a happy accident. The pair of driven fugitives decide to team up and travel via the Mississippi River up north where Jim will be free and Huck will be unknown. </p><p>Along the way, our boy realises that he bears an inbuilt moral code. Early on he professes never to see any personal benefit to the widow's concept of praying for the spiritual gifts, since all the generosity and thoughtfulness will flow to others rather than himself. So he stops praying. Yet whenever it comes to the crunch, Huck chooses empathy and compassion as his pilot light every time. This puts him in some gnarly ethical dilemmas, especially regarding his responsibility to Jim. </p><p>A lifetime of social conditioning has convinced Huck that his sensitive and humane conscience is, in fact, immoral! He thinks that by following his compassionate instinct to help Jim escape, he's bringing down heavenly retribution on his own head. He even contemplates turning Jim in as the 'right' thing to do. </p><p> Shocking as it is for me to read how a boy can consider for one moment the corrupt lie that some human beings have the right to own others, in Huckleberry Finn's own mind he's committing grand larceny. Huck is projecting onto God the slave-owning mentality of the southern states before emancipation, which is all he's ever known. It's a huge hurdle for one lonely, poorly-educated 13-year-old to question the philosophy and theology that has always hummed around him. </p><p>To him, it seems more logical to judge himself as corrupt and wicked for wanting to help, than to transfer that label to his formative social structure, including the stream of pastors, teachers, care-takers and Sunday school superintendents who have poked their noses into his life. It takes a rare individual to do as Huckleberry Finn does, and stick to his own sound moral compass, even when he believes it may be leading him off course and straight to hell. </p><p>'Alright then, I'll go to hell,' may be the most profound line in the book. It's pure genius of Mark Twain, to have his southern boy-hero come to embrace a staunch abolitionist way of thinking off his own bat. </p><p>This fascinating introspection is embedded in high adventure and run-ins with several other colourful characters. Jim himself has as many superstitious taboos as the biblical Pharisees had crazy laws, but runs rings around Huck's own father when it comes to a providing a loving presence in the boy's life. The antics of the 'Duke' and the 'King'; a pair of shameless conmen who latch onto our two travel companions, puts Huck's peace loving nature at odds with his need to take action. And although she's featured in just one chapter, I love the wisdom of Mrs Judith Loftus, the lady who calls Huck's bluff when he thinks he's assumed an excellent disguise. </p><p>Finally, I can't sign off without griping about the Tom Sawyer factor. Whenever Tom steps into the picture, he's incredibly bossy and obnoxious. This kid's delusions of grandeur surely dwarf Mount Everest. He insists on acting out his fantasies, knowing full well his acquiescent friend Huck will eventually cave in to his outrageous demands. </p><p>I was finally willing to overlook how Tom played on Aunt Polly's grief in the last book so he could walk in on his own funeral, but now he's gone too far. Tom is up to another heartless stunt for his own glory, with absolutely no scruples for the feelings of the anxious people he is stringing along. I don't know about other readers, but it frustrates me to see Jim humble himself to kowtow to such bizarre and childish behavior, and to see the quick-thinking and resourceful Huck revert back to his default role as this show-off's loyal sidekick. </p><p>Bottom line now I've read both books - when it comes to Mark Twain's famous boy duo, much as I love the truly contemplative and heroic Huck, I kept wishing someone would deliver Tom a good punch in the face. </p><p>(I'm getting psychological now, but I can't help thinking Tom gets envious when he hears all about Huck's<i> real </i>adventures, and feels the need to compensate by making himself ringleader of the most dramatic <i>pretend </i>ones he can invent, which just happens to involve manipulating other people and toying with Jim's life.) Anyway, the bromance which I thought so healthy in the first book has sadly taken a toxic turn, especially now we see Tom sweep Huck along for a cruel ride along with everyone else. </p><p>Notwithstanding the Tom factor, I love this book. Huck is a humble and gentle soul, and also a survivor whose unfolding character arc is a masterpiece. I would never tire of reading his heartfelt and evocative descriptions of life along the river, and enjoying more of the 150-year-old sunrises we get to sample within these pages. </p><p>πππππ </p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-9260634909014842412023-11-30T05:30:00.019+11:002023-12-11T17:01:21.795+11:00'The Adventures of Tom Sawyer' by Mark Twain<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJwlCJdSX9hlBzkDBiTdDuj0NcWcVPPkOX5jLqPoN_yaUBiUSC88IAVNMUXBxJvjjD04Xy9zX8suABg5xmJQUnF3JwDmPreeGZmkYslA_Ocmmv11zmqSZC1BbP8qjfkjAUZ7kfq8kAyEMBMIW12cZtcDVWNUorSQxWvrZb1Ht5FZC222ba28o4mQaz6D4/s2000/tomsawyercover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1496" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJwlCJdSX9hlBzkDBiTdDuj0NcWcVPPkOX5jLqPoN_yaUBiUSC88IAVNMUXBxJvjjD04Xy9zX8suABg5xmJQUnF3JwDmPreeGZmkYslA_Ocmmv11zmqSZC1BbP8qjfkjAUZ7kfq8kAyEMBMIW12cZtcDVWNUorSQxWvrZb1Ht5FZC222ba28o4mQaz6D4/s320/tomsawyercover.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b><p></p><p><b>I discovered both books comprising Mark Twain's most famous duo in different free street libraries within a short period of time. I've taken that as a sign that it's high time to read them. I say that as a tribute to Mark Twain. It didn't take long to see that his characters themselves are HUGE believers in signs and superstitions within the pages of these novels. Interestingly, it turns out that his birth coincided with the appearance of Halley's Comet, as did his death with its next appearance. And Twain himself predicted that would be the case. 'It will be the greatest disappointment of my life if I do not go out with Halley's Comet. The Almighty has said, no doubt, "Now here are these two unaccountable freaks; they came in together, they must go out together."' Call it coincidence or self-fulfilling prophecy, I'm sure he would have been pleased.</b></p><p><b>I'm starting with Tom Sawyer and will finish up with Huckleberry Finn soon. </b></p><p><b>MY THOUGHTS:</b></p><p> I finally read this famous antebellum classic about the mischievous Tom who's such a handful for his long-suffering Aunt Polly. Mark Twain considered it his homage to childhood days and he sure wasn't kidding. At first I was a little apprehensive it would be all beetle races, Robin Hood re-enactments, incantations to recover lost marbles, and cheating to win Sunday school prizes - but then it got interesting and I was hooked. For me, the drawcard begins when Tom and his mate, Huckleberry Finn, witness a grisly grave robbery and brutal murder in a cemetery at midnight, followed by the framing of an innocent man, putting the boys in a fearful moral dilemma.</p><p>But that's enough flirting with plot points. I want to focus mostly on character traits. Oh Tom, Tom! He could be called a lovable larrikin, a shrewd businessman (shown by the iconic opening incident with the white picket fence) or an unconscionable, callous little arse! All three are accurate depending on a reader's own starting point. Speaking from a mother's perspective, he crosses a line for me into the third description. The stunt he pulls on poor Aunt Polly, Mrs Harper, and everyone else deserves far more retribution than he ever receives. (It was quite a stunt though, I grant you that!)</p><p>Tom's abundant energy and confidence makes him a natural leader, but he uses his imagination to borrow from and cruise by on the genius of others. Tom draws heavily on hackneyed stereotypes he gleans from the stories he loves, and weaves them into play activities for his own gang, who don't have such a broad knowledge base of yarns and legends. So I consider this book to be a tribute to the power and influence wielded by writers and storytellers, as much as it is an ode to childhood. Done well, their stories contain power to shape and inform their culture by hijacking people's enthusiasm, and Mark Twain himself participates in the wonderful ripple effect with this very book. </p><p>I tend to think Tom's dynamic combo is an overbearing personality coupled with a vast knowledge and respect for great stories. It gives him an irresistible 'power' persona that covers over many rough edges. And if those are smoothed when he grows up a bit, he probably has a bright future. </p><p>But to me, Huckleberry Finn, the town's 'juvenile pariah' provides much of the book's charm. He's the neglected son of a raging alcoholic, hence in the adults' eyes, no fit companion for civilised kids. Although Huck wears cast-off adult clothes, a bit like <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/03/oliver-twist-by-charles-dickens.html">Dickens' Artful Dodger</a>, he doesn't carry the style off with quite the same panache. There is a certain wistfulness surrounding Huck, who's aware that he's regarded as untouchable by most adults. Yet at the same time, he appreciates being envied by other boys for his freedom from responsibilities such as school and church attendance. </p><p>Tom is by far the most gung-ho, cocky member of their friendship group. Huck is his follower, and more cautious and thoughtful in his approach. While Tom revels in being the centre of attention, Huck shuns the spotlight. But he has a courageous core, enabling him to put up with being unwelcome wherever he shows his face. Far from being a bad influence on Tom, it tends to be more the other way around. (Not that I'd go so far as to call Tom a bad influence on Huck, since poor Huck is in need of a true friend.) </p><p>Tom's youthful romance gets a fair airing. Becky Thatcher is first presented as 'a lovely little blue-eyed creature with yellow hair plaited in two long tails, white summer frock and embroidered pantalettes.' But far from being as sweet as she appears, Becky is a manipulative little miss, adept at using her feminine wiles for unworthy purposes. Mark Twain appears to have infiltrated the calculating and sometimes tortured headspaces of pre-teen girls, and his accuracy impresses me. The ups and downs of Tom and Becky's relationship indicates precisely why 11 or 12-year-olds shouldn't indulge in love affairs. But perhaps the pair of them deserve to end up with each other in the long run, take that how you will :) </p><p>Just because Tom Sawyer himself is heedless and thoughtless doesn't mean we readers have to be. I find the story urges us to ponder the true meaning of success, which may be more modest than we think. Muff Potter, the hopeless drunk, is by all accounts a 'no-account.' Yet his small kindnesses over the years to Tom and Huck may end up saving his life. The boys might not have been as willing to risk their safety to defend someone more like the harsh and exacting school master, Mr Dobbins, who has achieved a far more 'successful' position in worldly terms. (Not that Dobbins would ever find himself in Muff's position, but you know what I mean.)</p><p>The book is well worth reading, but we may need to suspend our disbelief. It's not just any old evocation of a southern, small-town world, but one in which the following may happen.</p><p>1) Random treasure chests, chock full of coin, may be buried anywhere, so you might as well dig around with your pick and shovel. Your chances of becoming filthy rich are as good as anybody's. </p><p>2) Search parties tend to be a bit lame, which you can use to your advantage.</p><p>3) Superstitious rituals are generally reliable. When your expectations don't come to fruition, it's probably because witches have interfered.</p><p>4) The same two boys may accidentally eavesdrop on the vile plans of the most degenerate wretch they know, not merely once but three or four times. Either together or separately. </p><p>I'm right into the goings-on at St Petersburg on the Mississippi now. Bring on <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/12/the-adventures-of-huckleberry-finn-by.html">The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn</a>. I'm anticipating that Huck, as the main protagonist, will bring a more reflective slant to these rollicking adventures, which may contrast nicely with this book's focus on the impulsive, surface-skimming Tom. </p><p>ππππΒ½</p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-5228755018598564552023-11-24T05:30:00.001+11:002023-11-24T05:30:00.126+11:00'The House on the Strand' by Daphne du Maurier<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiVG8hEegmroPLQ5oVve9kvGqasPaTDnsiiXZ1KovlqIBej03_Rosa3N2yR6ipP6reRpY_2wI8U0iZc-cohH2-u7ZXsYkGK0WgugRgfepJZ4WKcyA-Ys6cADwH7ofWUtj3ET8ikFlFsa7U9Z03OVJwUZS6JeQ-zHESFeOqsEIEpYVskEUIA0PvSpYvc5k/s2000/houseonthestrandcover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1496" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiVG8hEegmroPLQ5oVve9kvGqasPaTDnsiiXZ1KovlqIBej03_Rosa3N2yR6ipP6reRpY_2wI8U0iZc-cohH2-u7ZXsYkGK0WgugRgfepJZ4WKcyA-Ys6cADwH7ofWUtj3ET8ikFlFsa7U9Z03OVJwUZS6JeQ-zHESFeOqsEIEpYVskEUIA0PvSpYvc5k/s320/houseonthestrandcover.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><b><br />Dick Young is lent a house in Cornwall by his friend Professor Magnus Lane. During his stay he agrees to serve as a guinea pig for a new drug that Magnus has discovered in his scientific research.<br /><br />When Dick samples Magnus's potion, he finds himself doing the impossible: traveling through time while staying in place, thrown all the way back into Medieval Cornwall. The concoction wear off after several hours, but its effects are intoxicating and Dick cannot resist his newfound powers. As his journeys increase, Dick begins to resent the days he must spend in the modern world, longing ever more fervently to get back into his world of centuries before, and the home of the beautiful Lady Isolda...</b><p></p><p><b>MY THOUGHTS: </b> </p><p>This is one of du Maurier's Cornish tales with a timeslip theme thrown in. It was published the year of my birth, so I was curious to see how the 'modern' thread had aged.</p><p>Dick Young, the main character, is staying at Kilmarth, the boyhood home of his friend, biophysicist Magnus Lane. (With a name like Magnus, I reckon his parents destined him to become a ground-breaking, experimental scientist. Doesn't it seem perfect for the stereotype?) As part of the deal, Magnus coerces Dick into sampling the wonder-drug he's been working on, which spirals its users back centuries, yet always on their own local turf.</p><p>Dick consistently ends up in the fourteenth century, and always touches base with a mysterious guy named Roger, prompting Dick to wonder whether Roger's brain is the random link to the mind of any time-tripper. Nobody from the 1300s, including Roger, ever seems to see futuristic visitors. Dick verifies Magnus' experience, that every sense, except for touch, is heightened whenever they visit the past. However, only their brains are really taking the trips. Their physical bodies are still lumbering blindly about in their contemporary world (1969), vulnerable to sudden peril such as collisions.</p><p>Dick keeps trying to convince himself that he's not addicted to his trips, but can't help admitting he<i> is</i> addicted to his infatuation with the beautiful Lady Isolda Carminowe, who keeps him returning for another 'fix' of her. </p><p>My googling tells me Dame Daphne got really excited about this story, considering it to be one of her finest. She intended for readers to be sucked into the implicit questions she was raising. Was Dick really progressing back in time, or was it some elaborate mental hallucination? Is the concept of time, rather than being a linear projection, 'all-dimensional' with past, present and future spinning like a wheel simultaneously? All Dick can say for sure is that the people he enjoys spying on have been dead for over 600 years, yet they're alive in his escape world. Sounds like a recipe for a page-turner, right?</p><p>Sadly, it fell flat for me. Neither of the two time periods held my interest. The political intrigue and family saga of Roger and Isolda's world felt like wading through quicksand. There are far too many family connections to keep track of and too much standing around talking. As for Dick, he lives up to his name too well. Each of his unfolding personal disclosures made me eyeroll more. </p><p>He flicks his cigarette butts around the countryside, he hasn't visited his mother in over a year because he's too lazy, he's getting tired of his wife, Vita, after just a few years of marriage, and prefers his 'trips' to stalk the more attractive Isolda. He professes to have not a flicker of interest in his two young stepsons, who incidentally strike me as nicer people than he is. He gets grouchy and irritable with everyone in his real world. He resents Vita for her concern regarding him, which turns out to be completely justified. I kept finding the pages of Dick's narration progressively harder to turn. </p><p>All this story really has going for it is du Maurier's hallmark description of Cornwall. Sadly, Cornwall alone is insufficient to maintain my interest in a story with a crawling plot and unlikeable characters. The premise sounded great... but it fell short. Sorry Dame Daphne, it's a no from me.</p><p>ππ </p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-47528288613026744232023-11-17T05:30:00.003+11:002023-12-11T17:03:32.972+11:00'Yellowface' by Rebecca F. Kuang<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwp0h_4Jmo6UeaJCghLLLnI1nk2Vw1dmuhEpx0LgtQkFiqORXNknh0ixkTAYo11Q8rloSX3h9li2XesEz3-bqjbrUjA7oYUpiWPEthyhop4TMkYHQnZS0yXcL9arJU7EVoo8SlmYzMckSAdknuCpy19JpAXYAAgBRRN4iv21xTu-gj4BRJPiNyXWY4_qo/s2000/yellowfacecover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1496" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwp0h_4Jmo6UeaJCghLLLnI1nk2Vw1dmuhEpx0LgtQkFiqORXNknh0ixkTAYo11Q8rloSX3h9li2XesEz3-bqjbrUjA7oYUpiWPEthyhop4TMkYHQnZS0yXcL9arJU7EVoo8SlmYzMckSAdknuCpy19JpAXYAAgBRRN4iv21xTu-gj4BRJPiNyXWY4_qo/s320/yellowfacecover.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><br /><b>Athena Liu is a literary darling and June Hayward is literally nobody.<br /><br />White lies<br />When Athena dies in a freak accident, June steals her unpublished manuscript and publishes it as her own under the ambiguous name Juniper Song.<br /><br />Dark humour<br />But as evidence threatens Juneβs stolen success, she will discover exactly how far she will go to keep what she thinks she deserves.<br /><br />Deadly consequencesβ¦<br />What happens next is entirely everyone elseβs fault.</b><p></p><p><b>MY THOUGHTS:</b> </p><p>I was delighted to discover this novel in a little free street library, and cancelled the hold I had on it at the library. It's all over book platforms at the moment, so I prioritised it on my reading pile. </p><p>June Hayward is a jaded, obscure young writer out for the evening with her brilliantly successful friend, Athena Liu, who has had several award-winning bestsellers with major publishers. When Athena dies suddenly after a freak accident, June snatches the chance to steal a freshly completed manuscript from Athena's desk. It's the first draft of a World War One novel entitled, 'The Last Front,' which focuses on the heroic efforts of the Chinese Labour Corps which were largely unacknowledged at the time. </p><p>After making some sneaky alterations, June gets a contract under her own name with a prestigious publisher. Throughout the rest of this story she adroitly dodges discovery while enjoying the lifestyle of a famous author and justifying to her innermost self why her action wasn't despicable plagiarism. There are also pesky accusations of cultural appropriation to fend off, not to mention pressure to produce her next blockbuster. Will the truth lie dormant forever? </p><p>To maintain the new lifestyle she's craved for so long, June becomes a progressively worse human being, which she deems vitally necessary to avoid regression or discovery. Everything about her is false, calculating, opportunistic and manipulative, including her version of how close a friend she really was to Athena Liu. Yet disturbingly, June's insistence that duplicity is the price she must pay to remain a media darling rings true. Being unknown and forgotten, after a taste of the spotlight, is her greatest dread. It makes me wonder how many big name authors and other celebs behave through a filter of, 'How will this make me look?' </p><p>Kuang reveals plenty about the book industry which may surprise the uninitiated. She presents a world in which there is a finite number of book contracts with competition rife, like seagulls swooping on chips; where one minority author's success may create barriers for others writing in the same genre, rather than the green lights we may expect. Crowds of consumers (in this case, readers) assume a macro-personality far more daunting and impersonal than those of the individuals who comprise it. Ms. or Mr. Public Opinion isn't necessarily a giant whose approbation we can seek without being tarnished, yet so many of us seek it anyway, in our own small ways. And tsunamis of social media passion are toxic. Think cancel culture.</p><p>I relate to a lot of the reading and writing culture described in this story, having written and made huge efforts to market my own published novels for years. Yet there are surely several others like June's mother and sister, who simply read the occasional novel to relax without giving the actual industry a thought. This makes me wonder how Yellowface itself has become such a bestseller, since not everyone is trying to peddle their own books. I guess the theme about exposing fraud and the tense thriller elements must carry weight. </p><p>Overall, I'd never add this book to a list of my best reads of the year. I think it makes me read in a mean-spirited way, eager to find out how (and even if) the unscrupulous main character will be exposed. That's not as satisfying as following admirable, lovable heroes we long to cheer for all through. I prefer books to bring out the best in my own nature rather than the worst. More nobility and less schadenfreude, thanks. </p><p>Still, I think I'd have to call myself a fan of Yellowface, especially after all the thought-provoking content. </p><p>πππ</p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-4592206457498505652023-11-10T07:34:00.001+11:002023-11-10T10:15:12.615+11:00'Demon Copperhead' by Barbara Kingsolver<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPUpdwKiRqv2E8FR0IIr4e5v2wBzwlPyTzYJKHDdnfdyja7OOgysb3UTabiSBaAL2nXwUvqUaWLnfNhxrryVIn-pHbFfLR0yJx3pBEbwhS4poNfjMLBYMRp41TABWrJrPwmBpRd04YuNyhcTLaCbX9sA9sgKC4yVIWbrwRR5UV4nX9gRcNDnQz01AcfZY/s2000/demoncopperheadcover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1496" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPUpdwKiRqv2E8FR0IIr4e5v2wBzwlPyTzYJKHDdnfdyja7OOgysb3UTabiSBaAL2nXwUvqUaWLnfNhxrryVIn-pHbFfLR0yJx3pBEbwhS4poNfjMLBYMRp41TABWrJrPwmBpRd04YuNyhcTLaCbX9sA9sgKC4yVIWbrwRR5UV4nX9gRcNDnQz01AcfZY/s320/demoncopperheadcover.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><br /><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #1e1915; font-family: "Proxima Nova", Montserrat, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px;" /><b>Many generations ago, Charles Dickens wrote David Copperfield from his experience as a survivor of institutional poverty and its damages to children in his society. Those problems have yet to be solved in ours. Dickens is not a prerequisite for readers of this novel, but he provided its inspiration. In transposing a Victorian epic novel to the contemporary American South, Barbara Kingsolver enlists Dickens' anger and compassion, and above all, his faith in the transformative powers of a good story. Demon Copperhead speaks for a new generation of lost boys, and all those born into beautiful, cursed places they can't imagine leaving behind.</b><p></p><p><b>MY THOUGHTS: </b></p><p>Whoa, this is a knock-off in a million. No wonder it won the Pulitzer and Women's Fiction prizes for 2023. I was simply curious to see how closely it could stick to the David Copperfield story in such a vastly different time and place, but I didn't expect such evocative writing packed into practically every sentence. </p><p>As most of us are aware from the start, it's the story of David Copperfield juxtaposed onto a modern, Appalachian society. Kingsolver expresses her deep concern about the plight of the deplorable foster care system and the opioid crisis strictly within the boundaries of Dickens' famous classic. Modern retellings of classics often strike me as way too overstrained, but this one is written in a way that convinces me this Victorian saga could well have taken place in the 21st century inland USA. It weaves all the counterpart characters in so brilliantly and naturally, it's a joy to spot them all. </p><p>Damon Fields, aka Demon Copperhead himself, narrates his own story, starting from the moment he was born to an 18-year-old junkie mother in a humble trailer, intact in his amniotic sac. Sound familiar? His engaging voice, full of sharp discernment and poignant, often dark humour, never falters throughout almost 550 pages. Demon is a budding comic strip artist whose latent genius gives him a knack for capturing anyone's idiosyncratic essence in both words and pictures. If you think the character of Davy Copperfield would take big shoes to fill, I promise you this boy aces it. </p><p>Supporting roles are triumphs too. There's Demon's abusive stepfather, Stoner; and the exploitative and harsh foster father, Crickson, nicknamed 'Creaky' by the boys under his care. Here Demon meets the dangerously magnetic Fast Forward, who could make anyone want to do anything and be glad of it; and the good-natured Tommy Waddles, who sketches skeletons as a sort of memento mori gesture, to remind himself that this too will pass. Demon is later fostered with the perpetually desperate and broke McCobb family. These guys have to exercise their creativity just to pay their bills. </p><p>We have Miss Betsy Woodall (estranged grandmother this time) and her clever, disabled brother, Mr Dick, whose tributes to his beloved authors is to cover kites with their quotes and then launch them into the sky. Miss Angus Winfield is an edgy, nerdy version of David's Agnes, and his ill-fated relationship with poor, helpless Dori takes on a whole new level - you'll see. And lurking lethally with his reptilian eyes gleaming is the slimy Ryan Pyles, or U-Haul, who keeps insisting that he's nobody special. </p><p>Demon actually has what some might call the total package; good looks, witty personality, empathy, intelligence, athleticism and artistic giftedness to boot. The fact that he considers himself an abject failure and nonentity highlights the gaping limitations of his culture and poor start in life more than anything could. ('It dawned on me that I could get run over flat out there, and nobody would know or care what to call the carcass. Road kill?) </p><p>From the point of view of a reader already familiar with David Copperfield, it's a winner. And I've noticed that several reviewers who have never read the classic have now added it to their TBR lists, on the strength of this story. I've challenged my kids to read David Copperfield followed by Demon Copperhead, because the effect is bound to impress them. I would always recommend that nobody who has ever read either should start with Dickens followed by Kingsolver.</p><p>Demon's take on Charles Dickens is worth mentioning. 'A seriously old guy, dead and a foreigner, but did he get the picture on kids and orphans getting screwed over and nobody giving a rat's ass. You'd think he was from around here.' Well, to take a broad view, Demon, since David Copperfield is regarded as Dickens' most autobiographical novel, and you're modeled on the character of David, then you <i>are</i> that old guy. </p><p>This is one of my reading highlights of the year. And my photo is a tribute to Demon's lifelong yearning to visit the beach for real. </p><p>(Here is my review of <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2018/05/david-copperfield-by-charles-dickens.html">David Copperfield</a>)</p><p>πππππ </p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-37072431262205141132023-11-03T05:30:00.001+11:002023-11-03T05:30:00.144+11:00'Evil Under the Sun' by Agatha Christie<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIhCvUA2VqytStP_hcB6_nL5kmAisP8ygls1pYI4YLgtXm-NCktihopiIUmLZnhqaScYHfmEEcgfjon0Tw4qpNqZHbXV0F0pS8bm_Ya8vjjpZd3I6hEeqE6P4s79rQIGG7T97QDxfrR54LHKVZPiv1neHQjeK_4UYklMddbAp3dLrI4LcOfU4whEsJ-ws/s2000/evilunderthesuncover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1496" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIhCvUA2VqytStP_hcB6_nL5kmAisP8ygls1pYI4YLgtXm-NCktihopiIUmLZnhqaScYHfmEEcgfjon0Tw4qpNqZHbXV0F0pS8bm_Ya8vjjpZd3I6hEeqE6P4s79rQIGG7T97QDxfrR54LHKVZPiv1neHQjeK_4UYklMddbAp3dLrI4LcOfU4whEsJ-ws/s320/evilunderthesuncover.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><br /><b>The beautiful bronzed body of Arlena Stuart lay facedown on the beach. But strangely, there was no sun and she was not sunbathing... she had been strangled.<br /><br />Ever since Arlena's arrival the air had been thick with sexual tension. Each of the guests had a motive to kill her. But Hercule Poirot suspects that this apparent 'crime of passion' conceals something much more evil.</b><p></p><p><b>MY THOUGHTS: </b></p><p>Hercule Poirot is staying at the Jolly Roger Hotel on Smuggler's Island, a popular summer beach resort on Britain's southern coast. Some sunbakers remark that nothing bad could possibly happen at such an idyllic destination, yet our little Belgian detective knows that there is 'evil everywhere under the sun.' </p><p>One of his fellow guests, Mrs Arlena Marshall (nee Stuart), has the reputation of a femme fatale. She seduces men and breaks up families, reputedly relishing every moment. Fellows are bewitched by her and women fiercely resent her. So when Arlena is found strangled to death in a secluded cove, several other sun seekers may well have a motive.</p><p>There are two lovers' triangles. Dressmaker Rosamund Darnley has adored Arlena's husband Ken since their childhood, but Ken takes his marriage vows seriously. Poor, pale-faced Christine Redfern is upset that her hunky hubby Patrick keeps following Arlene around like a dog on heat. Fanatical clergyman, Stephen Lane, likens Arlena to Jezebel or the Whore of Babylon. And Ken Marshall's moody teenage daughter, Linda, simply loathes her stepmother. </p><p>I have to say, what we readers see of Arlena in the pages never strikes me as pure evil, which the characters would have us believe. In fact, I find it unbalanced that she's the target of all the fall-out from illicit liaisons, and never the silly men who are led by their libidos rather than their brains. Here is what we are told about the reactions of a group of older men, when she simply walks past. </p><p></p><blockquote>'The eyes of Hercule Poirot opened, his moustache quivered appreciatively. Major Barry sat up and his protuberant eyes bulged even further with excitement; on Poirot's left the Reverend Stephen Lane drew in his breath with a little hiss and his figure stiffened.'</blockquote><p></p><p>Yeah, eyeroll. How do we even know for sure the lady is playing on her beauty, as people accuse her, since she always elicits this behaviour for doing nothing at all? </p><p>Incidentally, Poirot states his belief that modern women's bathing costumes leave nothing to the imagination. 'What appeal is there, to remove all the romance and mystery?' (This novel was published in 1940.) </p><p>Reverend Lane is disturbed because he's noticed it's fashionable for many people to abolish hellfire and Satan from their collective consciousness, yet he's certain demonic entities are still gleefully doing secret mischief. Hmm, not sure if he was talking for his author, Agatha Christie, but plenty of theologians, such as C. S. Lewis, would agree with him. </p><p>Mrs Gardener, the American tourist, says, 'Those girls that lie out that in the sun will grow hair on their legs and arms.' I'll assume that's Mrs Gardener's personal delusion and not indicative of the era in general. </p><p>This is not the best Christie mystery I've read, but nor is it the worst. One thing in its favour is that there was only one death, and not the flurry of spin-off murders Christie sometimes sets off. Apart from Poirot, of course, I didn't really bond with any of the characters. In fact, poor Arlena Marshall was as likeable as anyone else. The baddies' motive didn't totally ring true for me, yet it's easy enough to believe they're also motivated by the adrenaline rush of escaping detection. </p><p>So good on you Poirot, for foiling their plan.</p><p>πππΒ½ </p><p><br /></p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-67471447773862123732023-10-27T05:30:00.003+11:002023-10-27T05:30:00.142+11:00'The Ghost of Thomas Kempe' by Penelope Lively<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwvrvQ3g1XS-7nHEBbqppC1l2vLBEdctx9jUqhntuhAPmlVFwTr0pBUdPX4IXsPH0pSYgjS8CpoyXzLXF2yQbeChLJQQFmbhcGoBzQ43JMiuslPk7SPANvG9hbDVawENBD1YcFTdGRHp5qO22JIzOfFc-sYNdqopBSqTNog2O9NXXlEVBHRv5BK96Jlng/s2000/ghostthomaskempecover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1496" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwvrvQ3g1XS-7nHEBbqppC1l2vLBEdctx9jUqhntuhAPmlVFwTr0pBUdPX4IXsPH0pSYgjS8CpoyXzLXF2yQbeChLJQQFmbhcGoBzQ43JMiuslPk7SPANvG9hbDVawENBD1YcFTdGRHp5qO22JIzOfFc-sYNdqopBSqTNog2O9NXXlEVBHRv5BK96Jlng/s320/ghostthomaskempecover.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><br /><b>When James and his family move to an ancient cottage in Oxfordshire, odd things start happening. Doors crash open, and strange signs appear, written in an archaic hand. James finds that the ghost is the spirit of Thomas Kempe.</b><p></p><p><b>MY THOUGHTS:</b> </p><p>When I found this novel in a secondhand shop, it was a blast from my past. I read it during Primary School silent reading sessions in the early 80s. What great nostalgia, to re-read prize-winning British kids' fiction published in 1973, which had its 50th birthday this year. </p><p>The Harrison family has bought East End Cottage, a charming, ramshackle old doer-upper. But since they've moved in, somebody keeps pulling annoying stunts and writing weird messages. Young James is getting blamed for all of them, because he's a bit left-of-centre himself. </p><p>Poor James is resentful and baffled. He knows the culprit couldn't possibly be a member of his own family. His wry, sensible father and slightly frazzled mother wouldn't bother, and nor would his smug sister Helen, who has a deficient sense of humour anyway. What's more, Tim, the scruffy stray dog who's adopted them, keeps barking and snapping at nothing. </p><p>Soon it's clear that the arrogant perpetrator desires to be known by James. He's an opinionated poltergeist named Thomas Kempe, who lived there in the sixteenth century practicing sorcery. Kempe insists that James becomes his assistant, whether he likes it or not. And since Kempe's behaviour includes persecuting other villagers whom he suspects of witchcraft or knavery, James must think of a way to end it fast. He soon discovers there are no exorcists listed in the Yellow Pages. </p><p>The story is so fun to read because James is such a cool and curious 20th century kid. His own quirky 'To Do' list is based completely on inquisitiveness without a trace of ego. This boy knows the fun of indulging in grandiose daydreams without a hint of angst that they might never come true, because he never truly takes them seriously. </p><p>It's full of insights about human nature, both past and present. When James' father summarily dismisses the supernatural, James realises that commonsense is as impenetrable as a stone wall. 'If people had to be so unswerving in their beliefs, the only thing you could do is let them go on their own way.' In fact, Mr Harrison and Thomas Kempe's ghost are quite similar, in their closeminded approaches. </p><p>I love it when James comes across a boy named Arnold, a kindred spirit his own age, but separated by a century. James discovers that reading all about Arnold creates a sort of oddly reciprocal friendship through the pages. And even though Arnold is (or rather was) on James' wavelength, James' school friend Simon is nonetheless satisfactory for other moments. We need all sorts of friends, including both soul mates and time mates. </p><p>All the time impressions are very cool. James learns that people develop their own layers, like onions, added to by the passing years. Senior citizens, such as his neighbour Mrs Verity, are often most multi-layered. The point comes through that young people are still buried deep within their older selves.</p><p>The final line is worth quoting for its insight into the passage of years. </p><p></p><blockquote><blockquote>Time reached away before and ahead: back to the crusading knight, and Thomas Kempe, and Aunt Fanny, and Arnold: forward to other people who would leave their names in this place, look with different eyes on the same streets, rooftops, trees. And somewhere in the middle there was James, walking home for tea, his head full of confused but agreeable thoughts, hungry and a little tired, but content. </blockquote></blockquote><p>Yep, we all take our part for a short time, then shuffle off the set. </p><p><br /></p><p>ππππΒ½ </p><p></p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-50496917362617643102023-10-20T05:30:00.009+11:002023-10-21T08:24:09.284+11:00'Little Dorrit' (Part Two) by Charles Dickens<p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi623TMpRQSBXx03I1KkdPmW9JKLpNXOrHknvsfmC6_3A5WJdzTqWZwZe4KqyS5SbctRVUCjPxg-kHQNOZFWKryUlrUdXAiQEKh-RwidK7Vxa4RAxaoLI51_3P_Kz7eHo_LKe1I7pScRtHQIu4cmDIxdasQDijE4NVa6xpqg7FVE_W1bStAOnvREAdJXpM" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="373" data-original-width="336" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi623TMpRQSBXx03I1KkdPmW9JKLpNXOrHknvsfmC6_3A5WJdzTqWZwZe4KqyS5SbctRVUCjPxg-kHQNOZFWKryUlrUdXAiQEKh-RwidK7Vxa4RAxaoLI51_3P_Kz7eHo_LKe1I7pScRtHQIu4cmDIxdasQDijE4NVa6xpqg7FVE_W1bStAOnvREAdJXpM" width="216" /></a></b></div><p></p><p><b>MY THOUGHTS: </b></p><p>I shared my thought here on <a href="http://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/10/little-dorrit-part-1-by-charles-dickens.html">Part One</a> and this second half was equally riveting. </p><p>We hear of lottery winners who don't handle their windfalls wisely because they retain the mindsets of poor folk. That's what happens to the Dorrit family following their freak family inheritance. At the start of this second section, entitled 'Riches', Papa, Tip, Fanny, Amy and Uncle Frederick are off and away to Europe to live the good life, but we sense that dressing them in lavish clothes will be a superficial band-aid fix to cover the identities of lack and devastation that have shaped them over several years. </p><p>Mr Dorrit and his two eldest kids now expect veneration based on their obscene amount of dough, although they're still exactly the same people they were back home in the Marshalsea without a cent. Will wealth really make a change for the better? Mr Dorrit's former source of great pride, his decades as a prison inmate, will now be the skeleton he longs to shut tight in his closet. Hiding it will surely add a new source of stress to his life. And it may be argued that Amy's whole purpose for living, which is performing acts of service, has just taken a major blow. Who will she be, as a rich lady of leisure?</p><p>Even though I'm discussing Part Two, I won't say much about the unfolding plot and risk giving spoilers. Suffice to say the farfetched twists and shocking destinies of the two biggest villains makes Dickens a real Victorian precursor of the long-running soap opera. (Kudos to the flamboyant, cloak-swirling Rigaud aka Blandois and his signature creepy facial gesture, where his nose and moustache intersect.) </p><p>What a varied lot of characters this book presents. We have old Mrs General, a snooty sort of governess hired to prepare the two Dorrit girls for high society. She exemplifies the most shallow and inhumane aspects of Victorian society, such as, 'a truly refined mind must simply ignore the existence of anything that is not perfectly proper, pleasant and placid.' This, of course, includes suffering and homeless people. Mrs General loves words beginning with the letter 'P' because they supposedly make the shape of your mouth look good as you say them. </p><p>Another standout for me is the cold and twisted Miss Wade, who regards anyone's generous behaviour towards her as unforgivable condescension, since she's so ultra-sensitive about her orphan origins. Viewing everything through the lens of her own paranoia, she mistakenly projects onto others her touchy insecurity about her social position. It was genius of Dickens to invent this beautiful self-saboteur. I'm sure we don't need to be destitute orphans to get where Miss Wade is coming from. Using our touchy triggers to second guess others is toxic behaviour. She's not really a villain, in the true sense of the word, hence Dickens doesn't visit down any fatal calamity on her head, but letting her carry on with her bitter delusions is punishment enough for her. </p><p>Even though they were not main characters, my mind keeps returning to the huge chip on Miss Wade's shoulder, and the regretful experience of her would-be disciple, Tattycoram, who learns the hard way that the people who stir our emotions aren't necessarily the most accurate readers of any situation. That's not to say there is no grain of truth in Tatty's grudge against the Meagles. Giving her that nickname alone is enough to ensure she never forgets her workhouse background. Perhaps this girl's greatest takeaway is that life won't always deliver what seems fair, and the sooner we accept that, the easier we'll fare. Besides, life with the Meagles is certainly better than what they rescued her from. </p><p>Dickens makes certain sections a triumphant faith statement. I love how Little Dorrit's heartfelt, modest Christian outlook contrasts with the sour, Old-Testament eye-for-an-eye logic of old Mrs Clennam. </p><p></p><blockquote>'Oh, Mrs Clennam, Mrs Clennam, angry feelings and unforgiving deeds are no comfort to you and me. Be guided only by the healer of the sick, the raiser of the dead, the friend of all who were afflicted and forlorn, the patient Master who shed tears of compassion for our infirmities. We cannot but be right if we put the rest away and do everything in remembrance of Him.' </blockquote><p></p><p>As a culmination of all that has just gone down, this is powerful stuff. I was pleased during my googling to discover a small section of stained glass window dedicated to Little Dorrit herself, in London's St. George the Martyr church. (See above.) Adjacent to the Marshalsea Prison, it's the real life location where the fictional girl was christened, sought refuge on an icy night and eventually married her true love, Arthur Clennam. What a great tribute to Charles Dickens and also to the doggedly faithful Little Dorrit herself. </p><p>There are many other excellent characters who I haven't even tapped into yet, such as Arthur's talkative old flame, Flora, her corrupt but saintly looking father, Mr Casby, and their huffing and puffing employee, the diamond in the rough Mr Pancks. Not to mention Mrs Clennam's creepy business partner, Jeremiah Flintwinch, and his poor, abused wife, Affery. I also loved Daniel Doyce, the clever inventor who's suffered so much at the hands of the 'Circumlocution Office' in attempts to patent his product, he feels more like a criminal. But most of all, I love Arthur and Amy, two totally good-hearted people and a perfect match. </p><p>I can't help getting into the shipping mood for other couples this story might have produced, if it went on for even longer. Somebody on a forum I stumbled across suggested Tattcoram and young John Chivery, to which I echo, 'Sure, why not?' And how about poor Flora with either Doyce or Pancks, although neither gentleman would probably wish to put up with Mr F's Aunt for the long term. </p><p>It was clear to me early on that Little Dorrit would tick the boxes of a wonderful, immersive Dickens tale. Some of his books haven't quite hit the mark for me, but this one was bullseye, despite its unbelievable plot twists. Gee whiz, if it makes me question whether or not I'm sensing accurate signals from others or simply listening to my inner Miss Wade, it's worth the read for that alone. </p><p>πππππ </p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8533677737021490096.post-39797918869121474752023-10-13T05:30:00.005+11:002023-10-21T08:24:34.153+11:00'Little Dorrit' (Part 1) by Charles Dickens<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE9MP10ReDnaBam8p4REd7X7D0BXRUDPB1rfwydGVm_lYC7CdJhGXKcftULWO0Kdi5wCBUzJXNr-gGHw1qauHc-BAU1AD18GCNbf9nrbVDc-HJ_5VynucffxL5aGJzpJqcaVQQBNT6lTDbaLWZr_VZMMtKqE1Jr3-kHnJVhcy1dGsW4I4ofmDVDv12jMQ/s2000/littledorritcover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1496" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE9MP10ReDnaBam8p4REd7X7D0BXRUDPB1rfwydGVm_lYC7CdJhGXKcftULWO0Kdi5wCBUzJXNr-gGHw1qauHc-BAU1AD18GCNbf9nrbVDc-HJ_5VynucffxL5aGJzpJqcaVQQBNT6lTDbaLWZr_VZMMtKqE1Jr3-kHnJVhcy1dGsW4I4ofmDVDv12jMQ/s320/littledorritcover.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div><br /></div><b>Amy Dorrit grows up in Marshalsea Prison, where her father is imprisoned for debt. But in this classic tale of poverty and wealth, sacrifice and greed, fortune can change in a moment - even Little Dorrit's.</b><p><b>MY THOUGHTS:</b></p><p>It's time to tick off another Dickens doorstop. This one is split neatly into two sections entitled 'Poverty' and 'Riches' so I'll make two blog posts out of my discussion. From the very start I sensed that the Dorrit family will prove to be the Victorian equivalent of sudden lottery winners, whose limited headspaces don't keep pace with their freak financial windfalls. I was keen to see whether the unfolding story would match my expectations.</p><p>Here goes with 'Poverty.' </p><p>Poor Arthur Clennam has had a harsh upbringing from unloving, demanding parents. He's on his way home to England, having worked since he was young with his father in China for 20 years. Arthur's dad seemed to die with some deep, unsettling regret which he couldn't articulate from his deathbed.</p><p>When Arthur tries to ask his morbidly pious old mother about it, she flies off the handle. Yet bedridden Mrs Clennam and her cranky servant, Jeremiah Flintwinch, seem to be up to their ears in some shady secret. And the house itself keeps making weird, creaky sounds. </p><p>Arthur is intrigued by Amy, aka 'Little Dorrit', the young woman who works each day as a seamstress for his mother. It doesn't take long to discover that Little Dorrit lives in the Marshalsea Prison. She was born and raised there, because her father has been a prisoner of debt for twenty-three years. Now Arthur Clennam can't help wondering if his parents' dodgy family secret has something to do with cheating the Dorrit family; hence his mother's inadequate attempt to make amends through Dorrit's daughter. Arthur makes it his business to find out, yet it's a maze of dead-ends and false leads out there. </p><p>In another thread, a French criminal named Rigaud who killed his wife is on the loose. Cavalletto, his former cell mate in Marseilles, is always trying to keep one step ahead of him. </p><p>A book in which main characters quickly win my affection is bound to be a good one.</p><p>Arthur is a lovely guy with a stubborn resolve to think the best. He's chosen to be an idealist as a quiet mutiny against the harsh way in which he was raised. (He was a man who had deep-rooted in his nature a belief in all the gentle and good things his life had been without.) So we have, in effect, a middle-aged, male version of Anne Shirley, which I find quite attractive. Gracious in disappointment, always willing to lend a hand, it's time 40-year-old Arthur gets a break, although he never really expects one. There are sometimes flashback glimpses of the younger, pushed-around, thwarted Arthur to keep us barracking for him.</p><p>Next there's Little Dorrit, that resourceful, diminutive young woman with soft hazel eyes who does her best to justify why the Mashalsea is not such a bad place to call home. She's like the lotus flower who can flourish in mud. Yet I can't help wondering how she survives on occasional nibbles of bread and butter and sips of tea. Maybe she's so tiny because she's stunted and starved, owing to a lifetime of putting aside the best for others. She's definitely one of Dickens' cohort of heroines who takes self-sacrifice to an unhealthy extreme, yet I sense Amy Dorrit has much to teach our generation. </p><p>In our era, the focus is so much on boosting our status and maximising our potential, quiet, dutiful people who accept their lot in life with no expectation of fanfare aren't very fashionable anymore. No twenty-first century counterpart character springs to mind. Perhaps Amy Dorrit is the sort of person who draws me toward Victorian novels. She counterbalances the restlessness and discontentment which seems to be in the modern air we breathe. Hence, she's refreshing. </p><p>But the 'good' characters aren't the only memorable ones.</p><p>Whoa, what a character Mr Dorrit is, that hilarious, destitute snob who plays up his own dubious status as longest serving prisoner to make himself a celebrity. In a way I admire the dude for his sheer front, and for always choosing the most flattering way to regard himself in a callous world determined to keep him in his place. That takes some solid self-esteem. Yet he does it through such audacious self-delusions, I can't help facepalming.</p><p>Arthur is friends with the Meagles family. There's another fascinating thread with 'Tattycoram', aka Harriet Beadle, the young workhouse orphan who was adopted as a companion for their beloved girl, Miss Minnie Meagle. Can two diametrically opposite interpretations of one person's life both contain grains of truth?</p><p>1) She's blessed and fortunate to have been rescued from the workhouse by such a caring family as the Meagles. </p><p>2) She's born beneath an unlucky star, the butt of condescension, forced to kowtow to a girl her own age who she has no respect for. </p><p>This exotic and resentful girl with her flyaway, shiny black hair and snapping black eyes chooses the second, resentful interpretation, and behaves accordingly by cutting loose. Sometimes Dickens releases a startling, colourful, non-conforming bird among his drab, dutiful little sparrows, (such as Amy Dorrit), and Harriet is surely one of them. Her aloof and mysterious mentor, Miss Wade, seems to be a piece of work too, with an agenda of her own. Dickens' 'good' girls may shine, but his 'bad' girls sizzle. </p><p>At this stage I'm feeling the whole plot is like some giant Jenga game, with old, sacred cows being gently dismantled and uncomfortable new developments being laid precariously on top. There's a whole lot of stuff being done behind the scenes on the Dorrits' behalf. There are secrets which will surely come to light. When the whole thing comes tumbling down, it'll be with a mighty crash.</p><p>Update, here is <a href="https://vincereview.blogspot.com/2023/10/little-dorrit-part-two-by-charles.html">Part Two</a>. </p>Paula Vincehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02079952414990463270noreply@blogger.com4