Review of 'A Walk to Remember' by Nicholas Sparks

I've never really resonated properly with a review of a book on its cover. They're usually filled with 'Amazing', 'Unputdownable', or a whole variety of buzzwords. The one on the back of A Walk to Remember, however summarises exactly how I feel about this novel: 'every now and then you stumble across an extraordinary book that at first appears like countless others, but then you read it and are amazed at the treasure within'. This review is by the New York Sunday Post, in case you were wondering.

A Walk to Remember is something that I've been meaning to read for years. I bought it before I went to uni, so it's been sitting on my shelves for at least five years now. The film that is based on this book is one of my favourite films of all times, and it's why I picked up the novel in the first place. I absolutely whizzed through it, lapping up all the extra little details that the book had to offer. The one thing I would say is that if you've seen the film and want to read the book, then the Landon you know is not quite like the original Landon. He was a little meaner, a little more selfish, and a whole lot less likeable.

So, A Walk to Remember is all about a girl called Jamie. Her father, a preacher, is her only family, as her mother passed away a few years earlier. Being brought up in such a religious family has greatly impacted Jamie's outlook on life: she attempts to see the best in people, carries a bible around with her everywhere, and does an immense amount of work for the local orphanage. 

Naturally, this introvert, who's a little saintly and carries around a bible with her isn't the most popular girl at school. Thankfully for Jamie, she either doesn't notice the sarcasm of the bullies or at least pretends to. One of those bullies, Landon, is forced to work with Jamie for a drama class assignment. They're the leads in a play and Landon, a 'popular guy', simply can't be seen with Jamie. Eventually he comes to realise that this shy exterior of a girl has a wealth of goodness and character beneath it. With Landon we being to see that everyone is worth getting to know.

This novel is beyond heartbreaking, but I've decided not to spoiler any of that part for you. If you've read the novel or seen the film then you'll know what I mean. Reading the end part of this on a bus was a total mistake for me, and I ended up sobbing and getting some interesting looks. Just remember that this is the guy that wrote The Notebook. 

Have you read it? What did you think?

Review of 'The Monk' by Matthew Lewis

Gothic books are undeniably fab. I think every literature student has been through a phase where this genre is just the shit. But, have I ever read 'the original' Gothic novel? Nah. This year I really want to read more classics, and this was definitely a good place to start. The Monk is something that I've been told is a must-read for a good, well, six years now. Being told that however actually made me want to read it less. 

Now that I've read it I have so many regrets about not reading it before. It is one of the best books I've ever read. I really wish I could go back and read it before reading Dracula because comparing the two whilst I was at uni would have made for some fab coursework. 

I was also genuinely surprised at the content, as well as by how much I enjoyed it. Despite being a Victorian novel, The Monk was a whole lot darker than some of its contemporary counterparts. Although, the Marquis de Sade's Juliette was published only a year later.

The Monk is a story all about the vilification of the Catholic faith. It's a story made up of stories; some of which are interlinked by obscure characters and settings. We have the story of the bleeding nun, all about a nun who rejected her veil and was brutally murdered in the past. And in the present we have a pregnant nun: someone who has violated her vows and wishes to lose the veil. There is a monk who commits a vile number of sins against both humanity and his faith. I'm not going to spoiler what he does for you, but it's all filled with a whole load of twists and turns.

This is a novel that both gave me nightmares and made me not want to stop turning each page. It's possibly the first ever truly scary book I've ever read, so if that's your jam then I would 100% recommend it.

Have you read it? What did you think?

Steph

Review of 'The Tenant of Wildfell Hall' by Anne Bronte

Ah, the oft-forgotten third author in the Bronte family. Up until I was 18 I had no idea that Emily and Charlotte had a sister who also wrote a novel, and I reeled in shock at the fact of it. I found The Tenant of Wildfell Hall in a dusty paperback exchange store in Bognor Regis a couple of years ago, and treasured it by forgetting that I ever owned it until a few months back. I've really been getting back into Victorian fiction at the moment, and, as I'm still a little intimidated by Villette, I decided to go for the only other unread Bronte book on my shelves. Despite loving Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights, I really didn't have great expectations (oh the Victorian literature puns coming out in this post) for The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. Mostly if I'm honest because I've never heard about it, or never heard it discussed in a literary manner.

I'm now feeling genuinely disappointed that this book isn't discussed with more frequency and vibrancy. Like her sisters, Anne challenges the notion of what is allowed within the confines of being a proper woman, and creates an image of a heroine we cannot help but love, even if she doesn't bear an exact resemblance to the ideal Victorian woman. Much like her sisters' novels, this also contains a metanarrative, taking us back to a past which completely alters our perspective on the present, and I love it.

Helen Huntingdon, our heroine, moves to Wildfell Hall and is at once the target of many a rumour. Clad in mourning garments and never letting her son out of her sight, Helen spikes everyone's curiosity with her refusal to attend church and strange relationship with the owner of Wildfell Hall. Many of her neighbours think it unwomanly to be living alone in a house owned by a man when she has no husband, and rumours about her sexual licentiousness abound. 

Helen hardly helps the matter, with her vague answers to the neighbours' questions about her past, and her refusal to pay social calls on the other ladies. She even seems unwilling to attend parties and gatherings she is invited to, much to the shock and insult of the local ladies. 

Gilbert Markham however, gives the lady a lot more credit than his comrades, and decides to get to know her a little better. With her natural grace, good lucks and intelligence he begins to fall for her, but she insists that she can never return his affections. Confused and insulted, Markham begins to believe the rumours about Helen; that is, until she sets them straight with a written account of her past.

You see, Helen is in fact not a widow, but a runaway bride. In leaving her husband, and taking their son in this way she has not only violated English conventions, but also laws. An abusive marriage takes its toll on young Helen, who avoided the advice of her wise aunt regarding her choice in husband. This aunt speaks out and instructs her not to follow only her heart, or wealth, or whims, but discover who a man really is, what his intellect is like, and what kind of husband he would be before marriage. Helen believes she will do so until she meets Huntingdon, and falls in love immediately. She casts off the practical feminist advice of her aunt and marries him quickly and without much thought for the future. All too soon she realises her mistake.

For many critics, this is one of the first feminist novels, and I can see why. Helen was an example to all women out there during the Victorian period, showing that abandoning a vicious husband does not mean one has to abandon their morality or hopes of a heavenly afterlife. Helen is blameless in the entire affair, and piece by piece we learn how faith kept this strong woman upright in a time of peril.

Have you read it? What did you think?

Review of "Reuben Sachs" by Amy Levy

It seems like forever since I've sat down and written a review on here, and I've practically got a mound of books read and ready to be reviewed, but I just haven't found the time recently. It's been well over a month since my last review, so I thought I'd kick start me getting back into the swing of things (hopefully) with a Victorian novella.

Reuben Sachs was on my course list for a module in first wave feminism when I was at uni, and sat alongside the likes of Dracula and Goblin Market, but it simply looked so dry that I never quite managed to get around to it. 

Now that I've read it, I can see how these texts all interlink in their analysis of the 'modern' female in the Victorian Era. Reuben Sachs focuses on a young girl, Judith, rather than the novel's eponymous male protagonist. Adopted by her auntie and uncle, as her family is too poor to raise her, Judith is brought up in a world of wealth without actually having any to her name.

This Jewish family is completely, unapologetically aware of the conflicted position Judith is in. She is at once rich and yet poor: she wants for nothing and yet her future looks bleak. Due to her lack of wealth, any potential husband that she may meet in the circles that she occupies is likely to reject her for a more wealthy wife. Indeed, her adoptive sister, who does have a dowry from her parents is a more suitable candidate for marriage than Judith is.

Unfortunately for Judith, she falls for her cousin, Reuben Sachs. Although he falls in love with her too, he casts aside his passion in order to pursue his political ambitions. Every time the pair meet they are torn between love and duty, and it is always duty that wins. 

Have you read this novella? What did you think?

Review of 'Bridget Jones' Diary' by Helen Fielding

Okay okay I'll admit it: I've never read Bridget Jones' Diary. The film is something that seems to come on every Christmas, and I usually watch snippets of it each year, if not the whole thing. So, I was completely and utterly unprepared for how different the book was. And I have to say i was a little concerned with it. 

Whereas the film merely mentions Bridget's diet, the book goes into immense detail over it. It lists Bridget's weight on a daily basis, her calorie intake, and how many calories were considered little enough to make a 'good day'. I honestly found this more than a little disturbing. I even found myself looking at the calories and her weigh ins and thinking well, hey, maybe I should only have X number of calories to lose weight. This is not a healthy mindset to be in, weighing yourself every day and hoping that the number drops down in order to improve a man you want to sleep with. 

Aside from this, I loved the format of the book. It was a little hard to adjust to, as it was written as though Bridget was jotting notes down in the evening, rather than as though it was a formal text. So, we lost a lot of 'the's and 'and's, etc. 

There were moments when I wanted to scream at Bridget, and laugh at her and cry with her. If a book can make me feel like that, despite all the little setbacks, you know it's a winner.

Have you read it? Did you enjoy it?

Review of 'Can't Buy Me Love'* by Jane Lovering

I think I may have lost count of the number of times that I've woken up, head pounding, thinking this of a morning. For Willow however, there are more than her fair share of emotional traumas going on in the novel. You see, Willow's beloved grandfather has passed away, and what did he leave her? A nose. His nose. In a snuff box. Yep. 

He'd always called it his lucky nose, and rubbed it if he needed a little boost, but Willow is still disappointed that he neglected to leave her anything else in his will. However, upon further inspection she finds a note in the snuff box, which leads her to discover that one of his many inventions wasn't so crackpot after all, and she ends up with £50 000. 

As if that wasn't lucky enough, the man that she obsessed over endlessly during university has come to town, and told her that he was in love with her at the time, but just too shy to do anything about it. It seems like a dream come true. Willow is quick to help Luke in whatever way she can, so that he can pursue his dreams and they can be happy together, but her friends are concerned over the convenience of him turning up just as she gains her inheritance.

Putting it all down to jealousy, Willow ignores their pleas and happily continues her perfect love story with Luke, spending money with glee along the way. At the same time, she makes a new friend: Cal, her gay brother's lover. He actually listens to her, and she isn't as nervous around him as she is around other men, even though he's incredibly attractive, because him and her brother used to be more than friends. 

But, what if everyone's suspicions were right? And what if Willow has been busy making assumptions of her own? Is there hope for love out there for Willow?

I absolutely adored this book, and was hooked from the very first line (which revealed the nose in a snuff box inheritance). The exploration of Willow's anxiety was particularly interesting to me, as I'm keen to see mental health issues exposed and examined more frequently in novels. Willow has wound herself up into such a state of self hatred and anxiety that even just talking to an attractive man, who might possibly like her, forces her to physically be sick. She is endlessly trying to control this intense physical reaction to attraction, but time and time again, we see her struggle with it. 

If you're interested in seeing a 'not so nice' guy (to say the least) have the ultimate revenge cast upon him as well, then this is definitely one for you. I totally got caught up in the plotting and planning of his demise, and couldn't wait to see what happened!

Have you read it? What did you think?

Review of 'The Human Stain' by Philip Roth

This book has been glaring at me from my book shelf (or random pile of books, depending on which student house I was living in) since, well, since 2013. My bad. Anyway, this is another one that I've struck off of the seemingly never ending list of 'books I should have read as an undergraduate but didn't'.

I'm a complete sucker for judging books by their cover, and the dull black one with the spine of a torn book on its front just had me turned off from the very start. I know, I know, it's basically a crime to ignore a book because the cover looks boring but I still do it. 

As I'm moving house in just under a month (I am nowhere near ready for this, but let's pretend I've got everything organised), I'm even more keen to whizz through as many of my unread course books as I can so that I can put them up on my depop - @steph_hartley if you're curious - and lighten the massive load that we've got to take to our new home.

So, all in all I basically forced myself to pick up The Human Stain, but by page 20 I was utterly hooked. I mean staying up until 2am and reading by torchlight so that I don't wake my partner up hooked. It has been months since I read a book that I was so prejudiced against and ended up loving it so much. 

The Human Stain is all about a man called Coleman Silk, a Jewish Classics professor who gets suspended because of alleged racism to a student. Although we at first believe the accusation to be ludicrous, eventually we learn that Coleman may actually have racist tendencies, even though he is not intentionally portraying them at this point.

From almost the very offset of the novel we learn one thing: within four months of the novel's timeline, Coleman Silk will be dead. We learn that after the sudden death of his wife, Coleman, a man in his seventies, has taken up with a 34 year old woman. Protecting themselves from any scandal (not only is she young, but an illiterate janitor too), the pair keep their love-making a secret from the world. But Coleman has a bigger secret, and it's one that takes us right back to his childhood to unfold.

You see, Coleman Silk isn't white. At least not fully. But his heritage is disguised by his skin. He looks white, and after realising how hard it was to be deemed anything other than white, he commenced a lifetime of pretense.

The most interesting aspect of this book however, is not this story of race, love, sex and tragedy, but the storytelling itself. For we are reading a book within a book. Of sorts. The writer of the book is not Philip Roth, but a man who plays a part in the story. Nathan Zuckerman becomes incredibly interested in Coleman's story, and decides to write about his life. Only when we reach the end of the novel do we realise that it is part 'fact' and part fabrication on Zuckerman's part. Some of the aspects of the novel are true, and he knows it, but many of the details, and the parts written from the perspective of other characters are from this character's imagination. This is possibly the most complex and well-written meta-narrative I have ever come across for this reason, and I would definitely recommend giving it a go!

Have you read it? What did you think?