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?

Review of 'Just a Monumental Summer'* by M Schneider

I'm so so sorry I don't have a picture for this one guys, but stick with me! If you’ve read any of my past reviews, you’ll know that I love books that can teach me things about a culture I’m not familiar with or a political system that I’ve never really learnt much about. I love discovering what it’s like to live in different places across the world: what I would prefer about living there, and why perhaps I wouldn’t want to move there. Just a Monumental Summer is possibly the first book I’ve ever read that is entirely set in Romania, and as such provided me with a unique insight into the workings of the country. I sped through this book as I just couldn’t wait to see what would happen next, or learn more about this beautiful, but politically corrupt country. If you want to learn a little something new about Romania, then I would definitely give this a go!

Mona needs to get away from her old life. Although her family loves her, she knows she can’t go back and face them after failing the University entrance exams that could have revolutionized all of their lives. So, she takes a train to Costinesti, a seaside town, and intends to spend the summer adventuring upon a path of self-discovery.

Mona expects to learn new things about herself during that summer, but what she doesn’t anticipate is meeting a hot young band member on the train to the coast, and having wonderful sex right there on the train. Sex has never been something big for Mona, just something she does to get by, to manipulate men into doing what she wants. But what if this time it’s something more than that? When Mona and band member Alin reach Costinesti they remain paired together, and she gets to meet all of his friends and discover what it’s like to be part of the entourage of a rock band.

Part of Mona really wants to spend her summer falling deeper and deeper in love with Alin, but what if the demons from her past take over? She’s never been good at being tied down, but can Alin’s love for her persuade her heart to take root?

On the whole I loved how the plot moved along, as Schneider managed to effortlessly combine a tale of love with a tale of shifting politics. However, there were moments when things fell down a little. I would have loved to see all of the plot strands come together in a glorious braid at the end of the novel, but instead some were left frayed, and it begged the question as to what they were doing in the novel in the first place.

Possibly my favourite aspect of the plot was the fact that Schneider had a whole variety of different relationships from people of different backgrounds and classes in communist Romania present in the book. I greatly enjoyed discovering how politics and gendered expectations impacted these relationships, and why they ultimately failed.

All in all, this was a good read that, with a little bit of work from the author, could become a great read. Politics, friendship and love all come under scrutiny through Mona’s experience of her monumental summer. 

You can buy Just a Monumental Summer here

What do you think - would you give it a go? It comes out today!

Review of "Dracula"

(image taken from Oxford University Press)

Dracula has been on by TBR pile for about seven years. As a fan of the Gothic I should have got round to reading this yonks ago, but I finally managed it a few weeks ago. And wow, do I regret not having done so before. This is most definitely sat in my top ten books of all time, possibly top five. If you haven't read it, I would highly suggest you got out and do so. There's everything you could ever want in there: love interests, underlying sex scandals, gore, the uncanny, well developed characters and incredible writing. 

Jonathon Harker travels from London to Transylvania to conduct a deal with a man living in a mysterious home. When he arrives, he realises it isn't just the fact the man's home which is a little odd. Count Dracula, Harker's host, soon displays worrying behaviour, particularly when he refuses Jonathon's entreaties to leave the castle. Having arranged for the Count to move to London, Harker soon begins to question what he has done when he encounters the count sleeping in a coffin ...

Thus begins a whirlwind of a hunt against time to save the woman of London from this vile predator. Who will win this ultimate battle?

There are so many issues raised about normative gender roles, the idea of a 'foreigner' and sexual orientation in this wonderfully deep novel. The image of blood runs throughout the text, and gets particularly interesting if you think about its relation to both menstrual blood and semen. Moreover,the corruption of sexually innocent women by this life-sucking European exposes a number of fears held by the British population during this period about immigration. The contamination of blood leading to disease also links to the concern about STIs (though not necessarily ones we would immediately think about). 

Have you read it? What did you think?

Steph x

Review of "The Two of Us"

(taken from Simon and Schuster)

Nowadays there's pretty much two camps of young couple, and they're separated by their reaction to a little positive sign on a certain test. There's the "eeeek we're having a baby" and the "oh god WHY? What are we gonna do now?!". So, what happens when nineteen days into a sexathon of a relationship your 40-ish year old girlfriend gets pregnant ... a bit of both?

Fisher and Ivy just want a simple relationship filled with lots of fun. Fisher's almost certain that Ivy's the one. That is, until she starts acting cold towards him. Thinking he's committed some kind of horrendous faux pas, Fisher wants to do anything he can to win her back. However, when she announces her pregnancy, will their budding relationship be able to last?

*SPOILER ALERT*

This one was a bit of a tear-jerker I have to say. As Ivy's pregnancy progresses, us readers are witness to all the highs and lows of the upcoming birth of Ivy and Fisher's twins, as well as their relationship in itself. However, when they lose one of the babies a couple of weeks before the due date, and have to say goodbye to one stillborn twin whilst learning to love the other we really get to see just how far human emotional pain and the ability to recover from it can be stretched.

If you like whirlwind romances, and are looking for something with a little more depth in, I would highly recommend The Two of Us.

Have you read it? What did you think?

Steph x

Review of 'The Rover'

This is probably the oldest text I've ever read by a woman. I'm not going to lie, before coming across 17th Century English literature I didn't even know women were able to write published work at this kind of time (kind of shows how repressive some eras were - I'm looking at you, almighty damaging Victorian period). Anyway, The Rover, a play by Aphra Behn, is incredibly expressive regarding the wit and status of women in society during this period. However, this quotation, despite appearing a bit fluffy and cute is actually one of the most troubling I came across in the text. It's spoken by one of the boldest women in the play, Angellica, but suggests that there is an inherent weakness in women that emerges when they fall in love. 

Willmore, or the rover whom the name is titled after is looking for love (or sex, they're effectively the same thing in 17th C fiction). Hellena, whose brother simply wants to send her to a convent and preserve her feminine purity, seeks to get a glimpse into the real world and fall in love. Her and Willmore's paths and hearts meet, however, another figure comes into play: Angellica. Despite being a courtesan, albeit one who insists on a high payment, Angellica is actually not a 'simple' woman as one might expect her to be stereotyped. Amongst a number of other plot lines, you get to see whether Willmore will choose the simple, but alluring Hellena, or the stunning Angellica.

Have you read it? What did you think?

Steph x

Review of 'The Country Wife'

(image taken from google)

This 17th Century play goes hand in hand with The Man of Mode, which I reviewed here the other week. Again, this play forms a part of the Restoration drama canon, and as such has many of the common features of it. Very bawdy (to say the least), this play questions relationships and hierarchies between men and women. 

Horner (aptly named) creates a rumour at the beginning of the play that through some kind of venereal disease he has become impotent. This allows him to get away with far more licentious behaviour with men's wives than would otherwise be allowed. Alongside this plot, the audience follow the lives of many other characters. There is the not-so-witty Mr Sparkish, due to marry Alithea; Pinchwife, whose decision to shut his wife up from the contagion of London morals doesn't quite go to plan, and more.

As with The Man of Mode, many questions about gender roles and sexuality are raised in this play. The most potent of these (get the pun?) is the idea that as long as a man is impotent one's wife is safe with him. This largely dwells from the lack of contraception during this period - a man needed to make sure his heir was in fact his, so his wife had to remain untainted by any other man with the potential to produce offspring. I found it incredibly interesting that this was the key reason for keeping a woman faithful, rather than the spread of venereal disease or the idea of husbandly possessiveness (as is very prevalent in later literature). 

Have you read it? What did you think?

Steph x

Review of "The Man of Mode"

The above excerpt from this 17th century play sounds like it could have come out of the mouth of Lady Macbeth, however, writing over half a century later, the playwright Etherege had quite a number of different aims in his portrayal of the scorned women. The political climate of Etherege's writing was one of libertinism. Charles 1 had been killed and a spirit of puritanism had entertained the interregnum, but with the Restoration seeing Charles II put on the throne, a period of somewhat licentious behaviour ensued. Charles II was known for his many mistresses, and if you've ever read any of Rochester's poetry, you'll know how, let's say "saucy" Restoration literature can be! 

Dorimant, a man of wit, convinces the town that through the contraction of a venereal disease he has become impotent. In this way he can allow men to let him have access to their wives, believing that he can do them no harm (the rogue!). Mrs Loveitt is one of the first to fall under his wiles and realise that she desires him. After this, women seem to keep falling into his trap. Sir Fopling Flutter on the other hand, as his name suggests, is the foppish laughing stock of the play - misplaced attempts at wit, unfashionable clothing and outdated speech make him far less desirable to the women. The real question of the play is: will Dorimant's trickery be discovered? And by the men or the women of the play?

This play really made me think about how restrictive Victorian literature has been on the notion of sexuality, especially female sexuality. All of the women in this play display some level of sexual desire, even if it is misplaced in this man of supposed impotence. However, Mrs "Loveitt"s name in particularly gives a slightly negative outlook upon the notion of women chasing after men they desire. The complex natures of the women were also interesting as again, in later English literature this seems to have disappeared a tad. Here the women are at once devious, loving, skeptical, chaste and yet sexual creatures.

Rating:

Have you read it? What did you think?

Steph

Review of McTeague

I have a whole host of reviews lined up for you guys, and seen as I've actually done all my seminar reading for this week (for about the first time in, well, ever! Only took until final year ...) I'll be hopefully able to post a bit more often. Anyway, this book wasn't something I would necessarily have picked up off of the shelf myself. Written by Frank Norris and published in 1899, it holds an alarming number of ugly truths for our modern world. If you're looking for something that really investigates how human relationships are now interceded by money, gold and the trappings of wealth, this is your go-to. Plus, despite being written over a century ago, it's remarkably easy to read.

McTeague, a brute of a man, is a dentist who lives in his own dentist parlours. His large size and simple nature means that he rarely gets desirable clientele, that is, until his best friend Marcus brings his cousin Trina to the dentist's chair. Soon he comes to admire her, where before he could only admire his small collection of trinkets. However, is it even possible for this bear of a man to really "love" another being?

In the world of this book, everything relates to money and gold. you come to realise that all characters are in fact bound by the world of commodification and exchange - to the extent that other people almost become money in terms of their relationship to a person. Aside from this, which arguably questions our modern emphasis on owning things and valuing them in their commodified state, gender and sex are key issues in the text. Trina simultaneously fears McTeague, yet her desire for him increases as her fear of his power over her does. This engages with a sadist/masochist dialogue which permeates the entire text, albeit discreetly.

Have you read it? What did you think?

Steph

Review of "Never Too Late"* | Q + A with Christina Courtenay

I love love love this quote, and haven't found another description quite so accurate in a while! Christina Courtenay earnt a little soft spot in my heart when I read Monsoon Mists (review here), which was my favourite book of the summer. Never Too Late was kindly sent by Choc Lit to me and I was lucky enough to be given the opportunity to have a mini interview with Christina Courtenay herself! This novella is a really quick, easy read which you can finish in a couple of days, or is brilliant for a long coach/plane journey.

Maude and Luke, young lovers, seek to elope, but their plans are thwarted at the last moment. Set during a period in which Maude's father can control her life, their plans are discovered and she is locked up at the last moment, a fact that Luke remains unaware of. Forced to marry his older brother Edward, who is the inheritor of the family estate, Maude lives a miserable life until he dies and Luke must move in. Despite their rocky past, can their feelings overcome their fate?

Question and Answer with Christina Courtenay

1.) What time period is Never Too Late set in? And what were your inspirations for writing a novella set during this period? 

It is set during the Regency period, in about 1812-13. I didn’t have an exact year in mind but the hero has fought in the Peninsular War which lasted until 1814 and has had to sell his commission to come home and take over the running of his late uncle’s estate so it’s before the end of the war. My main inspiration was the incomparable Georgette Heyer – I have loved her books from the moment I first found one in my school library. She made the Regency period come alive and that’s what I tried to do too, although my story is a bit more provincial than most of hers.

2.) Having read Monsoon Mists, what are the benefits of mixing romance with crime//mystery?

I think having a mystery as well as a romance adds depth to a story and hopefully makes it more enjoyable for the reader. You don’t just have the “will they-won’t they” questions of the romance, but also “will they even survive to have a romance” added to the mix. I didn’t actually set out to have a crime/mystery in this particular story, it just sort of evolved that way once the idea of the stolen talisman entered my mind. I figured it was the sort of object that was bound to cause greed, corruption and envy.

3.) I've noticed that your sex scenes are quite realistic and tend to steer away from the "50 Shades of Grey" bandwagon that a lot of contemporary authors have jumped on. What do you think of this craze? 

Thank you, I’m glad you think they are realistic! I have to admit I haven’t yet read 50 Shades – I know, shock, horror! I just haven’t had the time – but apart from the sex it obviously has some very special characters to have attracted so many readers. Jumping on any bandwagon is never good though – publishing tends to move quite slowly so if I were to write a story like that now, it wouldn’t be published for at least a year, if not more, by which time that craze will almost certainly be over. It’s been great for those authors who already had similar stories ready, but now it’s too late. I think it’s better to write the kind of stories you want to write, as well as you possibly can, and hope it’s what your readers will like.

4.) Where do you seek inspiration from to create such diverse books?

I find inspiration from lots of different things and anything can spark a scene in my mind – a house, a person, an object. I can’t remember what made me write Never Too Late, but Monsoon Mists came about because the hero, Jamie, had seemed to be one of the bad guys in the previous book in the Kinross trilogy (Highland Storms), but in reality he wasn’t. So I wanted him to be allowed to tell his version of events. Some of my other stories have been inspired by for example a ghost in a house I used to stay in (I never saw it but the owners did), an extraordinary painting in the National Gallery and a replica of an old sailing ship.

5.) Who are your favourite male and female characters that you've created and why? 

I have a soft spot for Killian Kinross, Jamie’s father (and the hero of Trade Winds) because he’s

gorgeous, has a great sense of humour and is very mischievous – he’s the archetypal “bad boy” I suppose you could say and I love those! I like his wife Jessamijn too – she stands up her step-father who tries to bully her. But I also really like Nico Noordholt and Midori Kumashiro, the hero and heroine of The Gilded Fan. It’s difficult really because as an author you are usually totally into whichever hero/heroine you are working on at the moment. Right now I’m writing about a Cavalier with long dark hair and green eyes … 

Thank you!

Thank you very much for inviting me!

Any comments/questions are always very welcome :)

Steph

Review of "Cometh Up as a Flower"

Utter madness isn't it *heavy sarcasm*, but for a book published in 1872, this quotation is pretty wild. I've read a lot of 19th century novels over the past few years, and quite a number of the heroines are somewhat lacking in a number of things: independence, a brain, passion and their own opinions to name but a few. Nell in Rhoda Broughton's Cometh Up as a Flower, however is something else - she actually defies feminine stereotypes and scorns the company of other women.

Nell lives alone with her father as her mother died when she was young. Despite their family name being one of high rapport, the Lestranges have gone way down the social ladder in recent years, to an extent that bills are unpaid and Nell's father's health is rapidly declining under economic stress. Nell meets a poor man called McGregor: handsome and flirtatious, he conducts an illicit relationship with her, which is kept a secret from her father. But, when her elder sister Dorothea returns to the family home, things begin to go a bit awry. Is love really worth more than money?

Although this book was written over a century ago, its language is not difficult or burdensome (makes a change for a 19th century novel, right?!). Nell's character is incredibly complex - she has a whole number of ideas concerning the social status of women in England, and has a number of factors which govern her every thought. Her sister Dorothea similarly offers a unique and often perplexing character: driven largely by money, she corrupts everything that is good in the novel and comes across as a true villain. This text really explores what your priorities ought to be when deciding who to marry. It also exposes some harrowing truths about the 'choice' even seemingly independent girls like Nell have concerning marriage. All in all, if you're interested in a look at how advanced first wave feminism could be in literature, this is a great text to go to!

Have you read it? What did you think?

Steph

Review of Piano From A 4th Storey Window*

So, this review has been a long time in coming. End of term commitments pushed everything bar frantically working, not sleeping and going out from my mind. But, I've finally gotten round to finishing this. Do you ever have books that make you think to the extent that you don't want to start a new book for a couple of days? Well I do, and this was one of them - I finished it two days ago and am still procrastinating starting a new one. But (and this is a big but) you have to suffer the first 50 pages or so. The sex scenes were pretty unrealistic in this part .... for starters I don't know anyone male or female that would want to engage in sex either whilst on, or with someone who is on their period when they have sex with each other for the first time. There were a few other problems I found with it, but that one really (unfortunately) imprinted itself to my memory. Anyway, PUSH THROUGH THIS - the book is really incredibly written in my opinion. And for an English reader there's a whole host of moments during which you can really feel at home here.

Marin Strang is a woman struggling to cohere her religious upbringing in a Jehovah Witness' household with her *ahem* someone licentious mode of living. She moves to Brighton and almost immediately meets Lawrence Fyre, ecclectic bookshop owner and all-round oddball. Immediately they hit it off, but, as we know, the course of true love never does run smooth ... Filled with tragedy, love and an over-riding investigation into what makes a family, Piano From A 4th Storey Window is a brilliant read.

I find that modern romantic fiction often has a tendency to be pretty poorly written (what ever happened to the likes of the writing in Wuthering Heights?!), but, this is actually successful, good even. And the story ... well, once, as I said, you get over the first section, you really begin to get a sense of these characters. I personally love a good bit of back story in a novel, and this gradually released one, bit by bit, for each character. So, when tragedy strikes, you almost feel Marin and Lawrence's pain yourself. 

It raises so many questions about identity *spoiler alert*: what impact does one's upbringing have on one's adult life? What happens when you lose a child which you never really met? How do you deal with that? How do you deal with a lover's relationship history? What is living in Brighton really like?

Have you read it? What did you think?

Review of 'The Bird In a Cage'

Firstly, I'm aware this picture is of a horrendous quality, however, as England appears to be entering some kind of Dark Age (and not of the literary variety), our lights have to be on from about 4pm onwards. The sheen makes me want to cry, but hey ho, summer's only seven months away ....

Anyway, as you're all probably aware, I read quite a number of 16th and 17th plays and poems as part of my uni course (have a look at what I think about this period in literature generally here). The Bird In a Cage is a play about a girl named Eugenia whose father, a Duke, imprisons her in a tower in order to preserve her chastity. He wants her to marry a Prince in Florence and doesn't want the potential for this to happen to be destroyed by a wayward suitor getting his wicked way with her. Unfortunately, all of Eugenia's ladies, some of whom already have suitors, are locked away in the tower with her. Philenzo, Eugenia's lover, hatches a plan to secure her hand in marriage. Disguised as Rolliardo, he challenges the Duke: he gets to marry Eugenia if he manages to get past the Duke's defenses surrounding Eugenia. The quotation above encapsulates the Duke's response. 

This play is filled with many conventions of 17th Century humour that is still relevant and funny today. My personal favourite is the scene during which Morello attempts to get access to the tower by dressing up as a woman. This reminded me of the introduction of the Dame in many modern pantomimes. You can almost envision Morello giving the audience a cheeky wink as he swishes his skirts across the stage to try and entrap the guards. Although the following scene in which the guards attempt to "check" his gender appears a bit rapacious, it is clearly intended to be delivered with a great deal of humour.

The Duke's decision to lock Eugenia up in the castle offers an interesting insight into the role of women, and the relationship between women and money. Just as one would lock up one's money in a modern bank, the Duke locks up his most prized possession so that no thieves can access her. It appears as though Eugenia is the Duke's only child. In this respect, his entire wealth rests on her shoulders. In order to create a successful marriage in monetary terms, the Duke needs her to marry whilst she is a virgin. Thus, a daughter's virginity assumes an almost physical value. Without it, a woman is subject to marrying a much poorer man, as no man high up in society is likely to agree to marrying a woman who has been "used". I think every woman or girl reading this play can feel a sense of accomplishment when Philenzo manages to breach the tower and Eugenia can be united with the man she loves, rather than the man her father wants her to love. 

Any comments/questions are always welcome

Love and Light

Steph x

Review of The White Devil

Let's be real, who wouldn't love a seventeenth-century play brimming with allusions to prostitution, witchcraft and downright misogyny? This quote I believe helps bring to light the paradoxes at the centre of the play. On the one hand, fortune is necessary - she has the power to control lives and does so unheeded. On the other hand, she might leave you with some nasty surprises (and yes, as with most plays of this era, that probably means syphilis). 

I'm not sure whether studying Shakespeare last year has swayed my opinion, but I really think that seventeenth century literature gets a poor reputation as being incredibly dry. The likes of Middleton, Shakespeare and even John Webster at points can be humorous. Having said that, it did make me feel a bit like a 40-year-old crazy cat lady laughing at Middleton last year. Personally, my favourite laughable part of The White Devil was the reference to poisonous Spanish "farts". Although I'm not an especial fan of juvenile humour, I was quite startled to come across it in this centuries-old play. I'm still unconvinced as to whether it makes me revel in the fact that simple humour has stuck around, or despair that we haven't really progressed from finding the word "fart" funny.

Moving on from the humourous aspect, I found the misogynistic elements of the text rather interesting. It is never truly clear whether Webster is handling Vittoria's case as something which supports female empowerment, or degrades it. The scene in which Vittoria's arraignment is described explores this most thoroughly. I wish I had enough space to quote the whole description of whores made by the lawyer, but alas its glorious length is a bit too, well, lengthy. Anyway, to summise, everything which the lawyer states whores are Vittoria is able to simply refute. However, in the refutation of this she alludes to her promiscuity. In this scene the reader is shown that Vittoria is able to speak Latin. She is also eloquent enough to hold a strong argument. During this period female eloquence of speech and licentiousness were deeply connected. Thus the very fact that she speaks is a paradox to her pleading that she is not the lusty creature that she is accused of being.

What were your favourite parts?

Steph x

A Comment Upon Gender in "White Noise" and "Close Range"

In both Don Delillo's White Noise and Annie Proulx's collection of short stories Close Range, gender is perceived as being an objective construct rather than a subjective one. No characters in these texts utterly transgress the gender boundaries between being masculine and feminine. The closest either text comes to exploring this is in Close Range, where several female ranch hands, including Mrs Freeze, embody masculine qualities through their profession. However, Proulx always aligns them on the side femininity by alluding to the inconvenience of their female bodies, or their desire for feminine accessories such as makeup and fashionable clothing. The portrayal of women and men in the texts appears to differ because White Noise is set in a modern, urban environment, whilst Close Range is set in rural, conservative Wyoming.

Firstly, in both texts masculinity is ensconced in violence. In White Noise this is explored most explicitly towards the end of the text, at which point Jack shoots "Mr Gray". This reaffirms the sexist interpretation which Babette makes when she suggests that all men are inherently violent. There is no pragmatic need for Jack to kill Mr Gray: Babette and him are no longer engaging in their "capitalist transactions" as Babette puts it. This indicates that perhaps Babette's claim is correct - men see red and cannot control their need to be violent because their blood courses with male hormones. However, this is an unsavoury view of men as well as an extreme generalisation. It appears more likely that Jack feels the need to reaffirm his masculinity as it has been deconstructed through his wife's adultery. According to stereotypes, a man's ability to fight well to protect himself and his family, and his ability to pleasure a woman are the two key components of his masculinity. By having sex with Jack's wife, Mr Gray has emasculated him to some extent; the shooting may be a result of a subconscious need to prove his masculinity. There are other clear links between men and violence in this text as Heinrich's friend in prison is a man. Delillo's choice of gender for this inmate reaffirms the gender boundaries concerning violence. Moreover, the idea that acting in a bold way can make one more masculine is alluded to with Mercator's desire to sit in the cage of snakes. There is no rational reason for doing this, but he appears to feel the need to conquer death and fear in order to identify himself as a man. Indeed, when he fails, Heinrich loses all respect for him because he has been emasculated.

Similarly, in Close Range, nearly all of the male ranchers are explicitly violent. This is potently explored in Brokeback Mountain where it becomes clear to Ennis that Jack's homosexuality had become known - this was why he was killed with a tire iron to the face. Jack alludes to a similar story at one point. His father had taken him to see a dead rancher named Eddie who has been killed with a tire iron because it had become known that he was a homosexual. The men of Wyoming killed him because of his sexuality in an attempt to reaffirm their own masculinity. According to Freudian theory, often homophobes are the way they are because they recognise an aspect of the homosexuality within themselves and repress it onto somebody else. The violence here appears to have occurred as a result of this. Indeed, Proulx highlights Wyoming's insistence on maintaining a facade of complete masculinity throughout the short stories. In Pair a Spurs, Car's wife cheats on him and, much like Jack in White Noise, he responds violently by shooting at Wrench's truck. Car's wife had had the affair with Wrench. It is interesting that both men responded to their wives' adultery by shooting something. Again, this serves to reconstruct their masculinity: if the gun is understood to be a phallic symbol. then the act of shooting mirrors the act of reproduction. This paradoxically repeats the action which destroyed their masculinity in the first place.

Moreover, in both texts men are defined by lust. In White Noise Jack has several conflicting identities: father, lover, academic. He cannot appear to align them. Lust is a pure, natural emotion: Jack's attempts to control his mind through his academic studies appears to have impacted his lust. Him and Babette read erotic stories to become aroused in bed. Jack appears to therefore find his masculine identity in his academia. It empowers him. However, he continues to be driven by lust. Most descriptions of Babette include an erotically charged physical description and he appears unable to prevent himself from fondling and caressing her. Jack and Babette's sex life is evidently crucial to the construction of his identity, as when he realises that she has been having sex with another man his whole world comes crashing down: he can no longer function as "Jack".

Likewise, in Close Range, lust makes men masculine. The men in this collection of short stories metaphorically become the steamy bulls who impregnate a cow every time they are near one. In The Mud Below, Diamond enacts a cruel rape upon Londa, his rodeo partner's wife, because she insults his size. He claims that this action is like "fucking sandpaper" because her vagina has not created any discharge as a result of the unwanted and unpleasant nature of the sex she is being forced to have. This brutal scene reinforces his masculinity because it shows that he has control. In Close Range it becomes apparent that men need to be in control all of the time for their own masculine security. Moreover, no men are faithful in this text. Proulx portrays them as lust-filled creatures with little or no sense of sexual morality.

Furthermore, in White Noise and Close Range, a gender divide is constructed between men and women as being abusers and the abused. Although this is much more potent in Close Range, it does feature in White Noise. Babette has to have sex in order to receive the medication she wants from Mr Gray. Mr Gray occupies the narrative position of a symbol as he is in a moral gray area - he technically has consensual sex with this women, although it is somewhat contractual. Babette uses the sexual act to obtain Dylar, and in this way is a figure of modern prostitution. Moreover, their sexual transactions are a synecdoche for modern America itself in which women must use their bodies to get what they want or even need. This is an abuse of the female body both by men and they women themselves.

Similarly, in Close Range women are abused both physically and emotionally. In Pair a Spurs Car repeatedly attempts to rape Inez. Fearing for her safety, she seeks protection from her husband who offers her nothing and appears to care more about a dead sheep on the farm. This indicates that men in Wyoming were negligent of women because their lives held less value than cattle. Women must protect themselves, yet still not do anything that will displease men.

Finally, there are some examples of a re-affirmation of femininity and the power associated with that in both texts. In White Noise Babette uses her sexuality to get what she wants. She is powerful enough to retain her husband and stable family life even after having an affair. Moreover, the freedom of marriage and having sex with who one desires in highlighted as Babette and Jack's ex-wives have married multiple times. In Close Range women can become empowered. In The Governors of Wyoming Roany and Renti ridicule Wade Wells, thus emasculating him, and there are no negative consequences. There is also some equality in ranching: if women have the right build they can become as proficient as men. 

Trends in Chick Lit

Everybody has a guilty pleasure when it comes to reading. For some, it’s fantasy novels, comic strips, or even the likes of Fifty Shades of Grey. For me, it’s the generic chick lit novel: girl is lonely, girl meets unlikely match of a boy, girl and boy fall in love (surprise, surprise). The simple and near-identical structure of these novels appeals to my willingness to remain right in the centre of my literary comfort zone. However, recently it’s come to my attention that this style of book isn’t quite as superficial as it first appears to be.

A few years ago, a large proportion of this genre of literature was centred on female body image. Obesity was a hot topic in the UK and USA at this point as shocking statistics were being poured out over the media concerning the 61% of the population deemed to be within this category (statistics as of the NHS’ report concerning obesity in 2010). At this time, and for a couple of years preceding it, chick lit authors positioned this issue at the forefront of their novels. This encouraged people, especially young women, to love their bodies even if they are technically overweight. This body-beautiful campaign as such was taken up by many authors worldwide, including one of my personal favourites, Meg Cabot (Princess Diaries anyone?). Her range of adult novels includes the Heather Wells mystery series, which tracks the progress of a young woman who has been criticised because of her large size. The books explore the idea that being overweight does not make a person unattractive, or unsuccessful. Thus, they serve to work against the “fat shaming” that goes on in the media: critiques of celebrities gaining a few pounds and the endless advocation of (unhealthy) fad diets in seemingly every magazine with a female target market.

Recently however, as the issue of obesity has become a less pressing issue in the media, chick lit authors have turned their attention elsewhere. Recent figures in mental health statistics have becoming increasingly alarming, to the extent that 1 in every 4 people experiences some form of mental health issue every year; the most common being depression and anxiety disorders. Again, as the media has begun to focus on these issues, so have chick lit authors. The two novels which I have read so far this summer as part of this genre have adhered to this. Both feature mentally unstable female protagonists who have undergone some form of trauma in their lives and thus (unfortunately) need to be rescued by the loving, handsome boy-next-door as it were.

After a hectic period of second year English Lit exams and getting a new kindle for my birthday I really wanted to chill out with a simple chick-flick on holiday. As a student I obviously instantly started scrolling through the reams of (largely awful-looking) free books in this style on Amazon. Coming across "Twenty Eight-and-a-Half Wishes" I didn't expect much and the opening chapters held out to this expectation.

The book is set in a modern Southern style landscape. The protagonist is an anxious 24-year-old girl who finds it hard to feel appropriate emotions towards events. She lost her father at a young age and is controlled by a wicked mother. This Cinderella-esque storyline was waiting for a Prince Charming to arrive, but, akin to most other romantic novels of our era, Joe McAllister is a rugged, mysterious figure. This generic outset initially jars with the magic realism that Rose's visions imbibe the plot with. Her blunt reaction to (not giving any spoilers) certain tragic incidents in the novel heightens this; in my opinion making this protagonist and the book itself too unrealistic.

However, after the disappointment of these first few chapters the novel improves greatly. It develops into a mystery-romance novel rather than a mere romance one, which allows it to offer much more to the reader in terms of plot and interest. Moreover, Rose's visions no longer seem to jar with the main plot, but cohere with it and enhance it, allowing the reader as well as Rose to have a stronger grasp of the mystery at hand than most other characters in the text. Rose’s visions as well as her social anxiety arguably hint at deeper mental issues within her character. However, the fact that the visions save Rose’s life portrays an important message to the reader: mental illnesses do not have to destroy your life. This is something which Rose learns as she develops as a character.

Similarly, Natasha Preston’s first book in her (appropriately named) “Silence” series raises a great number of important issues surrounding the moving issue of childhood sexual abuse. Despite a pretty good (albeit clichéd) romantic back story to the plot, the traumatic effects of this type of abuse upon a teenage girl remained the key focus of the novel. Silence follows the story of 15-year-old Oakley who hasn’t uttered a single syllable since the age of 5. Her overwhelming love for her 17-year-old best friend/neighbour/all-round good guy Cole encourages her to consider the impact of her silence on others, including her family. Oakley, her loving parents and sex-obsessed older brother make up the Farrell family unit. But as the novel rapidly makes clear, Oakley’s silence isn’t the only aspect of the family’s problems which doesn’t immediately meet the eye …

Set in England, the social issues which this novel raises really struck home for me. Moreover, with the recent numerous allegations of child sexual abuse by famous men in the media business, the concerns this novel raises are at the heart of heated discussions in the UK: can we really trust our children with anyone? How does this kind of abuse affect the mental health of the victim as they reach puberty and beyond?

I believe that the most important aspect of this novel is the exploration of the ways in which sexual predators transform their victims in order to cover up their horrendous acts against human decency. Oakley has her voice physically and metaphorically removed in a hyperbolic symbolization of the fear in which these victims live.

Once you get past the slightly bad writing that characterises the initial chapters of both the books discussed above, they really do expose some harsh realities about the state of modern life. Women are statistically more likely to suffer from depression than men, which perhaps explains why these authors have chosen for their female protagonists to be portrayed as fragile, imperfect creatures. Perhaps they want to suggest that if you really get to know a person (as the reader does with the narrative voice) everyone is broken. However, there may be a greater issue at hand: are these modern chick lit authors falling into the fallacy of creating almost 19^th century female protagonists who can’t survive without swooning into the arms of a life-giving, life-saving man?

Review of Silence

Natasha Preston's first book in her "Silence" series (appropriately named) raises a great number of important questions surrounding the moving issue of childhood sexual abuse. Despite a pretty good (albeit cliched) romantic back story to the plot, the writing completely dragged down my overall impression of the book. My kindle edition unfortunately also had quite a number of spelling and grammatical errors and typos. Though this was obviously not a bad feature of the book itself it too detracted from the strikingly good storyline. 

Silence follows the stroy of 15 year old Oakley who hasn't uttered a single syllable since the age of five. Her overwhelming love for her 17 year old best friend-stroke-neighbour-stroke-all round good guy Cole encourages her to consider the impact of her silence on others including her family. Oakley, her loving parents and sex-obsessed brother Jasper make up the Farrell family unit. But as the novel makes clear, Oakley's silence isn't the only aspect of their family's lives which doesn't immediately meet the eye ...

Set in England, the social issues which this novel raises really struck home. Moreover, with the recent numerous allegations of child sexual abuse by men in the medial business, this novel is at the heart of heated discussions in the UK. The most important aspect of this novel, I believe, is the exploration of the ways in which sexual predators transform their victims in order to cover up their horrendous acts against human decency. Oakley has her voice physically taken away as a hyperbolic symbolization of the fear in which these victims live. The question it most potently raises is: how does one grow and adapt to deal with normal life after life-destroying incident like this have taken place?

So, once you get past the somewhat awful writing and the lack of suspense in the novel (the author reveals the nature of the cause of Oakley's silence in the first few chapters), Silence develops into a heart-warming, tension filled novel.

What were your thoughts?

Crime and Bleak House

Charles Dickens' fictional novel Bleak House was originally published in serials. It explores both social and legal crimes, appearing to set them up in conflict with one another. This allows him to pose the question to the reader: which type of crime is worse? Do we see (spoilers, but it was written quite a while ago) Esther's bastardization as a result of Lady Dedlock's youthful sexual liberty as something inherently more immoral than Mr Tulkinghorn's murder? My answer is no. Dickens is known for his exposés of the physically and metaphorically filthy state of London in the nineteenth century. This novel appears to occupy a similar strand of argument, which means that it examines the implication of social crimes upon legal ones. Thus, Lady Dedlock's sexual activity cannot be viewed in a light which puts all other plot strands to darkness: all other crimes are in some way involved with it, to the extent that Mr Tulkinghorn's murder could even be said to be caused by it. 

Lady Dedlock's sexual crime, by which she decides to engage in premarital sexual intercourse with Captain Hawdon, is also a domestic crime. This crime is inextricably linked to the haughty mask of secrecy which controls Lady Dedlock's domestic life. Although at first it appears that her aristocratic snobbery allows her to occupy this position of aloofness, it is eventually revealed that it is crippling shame which induces this facade. She maintains this cool exterior by flitting from place to place, refusing to fully engage herself in her life. Lady Dedlock continues to live in this manner for a number of years until Mr Tulkinghorn invades her domestic sphere with a vicious sting of truth: her past. Tulkinghorn's revelation to Lady Dedlock of his knowledge of her youthful sexual affair is central to the criminal strand of the novel's plot. Once this invasion has occurred, the social order which the reader experiences at the beginning of the novel can never be restored. Thus, this indicates that the theme of this Victorian fictionalisation of crime is the secrecy of the home's problematical relationship with the public sphere. Indeed, Lady Dedlock is not initially aware of the long-lasting consequences of her affair: Esther, her daughter, is alive! Once this is revealed, her life becomes fraught with tension. Lady Dedlock is no longer able to feel "at home" in her stately mansion because her sexual "crime" has made her unworthy of such a high social position. 

Furthermore, questions surrounding Mr Tulkinghorn's murder are at first seemingly unanswerable because of the number of enemies he has made by collecting peoples' domestic secrets. Indeed, his own secrecy is involved in the seemingly impossible nature of the inquest as nobody knows to whom he was attending on the evening of his murder. Mr Tulkinghorn's death, in parallel to his life, is shrouded in mystery. His death, and life for that matter, is, moreover, at the heart of all of the criminal strands of the complicated plot of Bleak House. He represented the watchful eyes of the public social sphere upon Lady Dedlock's life. His invasion of the secrecy of her home led to his murder. In addition, the death brings a number of minor criminal figures out from the shadows of crime-ridden London. Mr Smallweed, Hortense and Mr George are all characters with questionable moral qualms, and all have committed some crime, whether it be legal or moral, in the novel. In this way, Mr Tulkinghorn's murder ironically results in the invasion of the secrecy of his home by representatives of the public sphere.

Moreover, there is an interesting link between women and crime in the text as it is Hortense and Lady Dedlock who arguably commit the greatest crimes. In Victorian culture, women were expected to occupy the domestic sphere: this provides another (albeit tenuous) link between domestic life and the fictionalisation of crime. Hortense is a maid, which means that her role in society is to invade the secrecy of the home. She occupies a peripheral position in the house as she is both integral to its pragmatical functioning and unnecessary to the family emotionally. Hortense's lack of understanding of the position which she occupies is revealed in her childish indignance at losing her place as Lady Dedlock's favoured female companion. Hortense's vengeful plan which she enacts as a result of this is incredibly detailed and cunning. This shows that if the secrets of the house are revealed to the public sphere, serious crimes can abound in Victorian London. Moreover, Horetense's plot to frame Lady Dedlock would have been successful had she not been residing with Mrs Bucket - the detective's wife - at that period of time. A crime can therefore only be successful is it remains hidden from other members of a household. 

Furthermore, Mrs Pardiggle's unmannerly invasion of the brickmakers' homes reveals the presence of domestic abuse to both the naive wards of Jarndyce and the reader. The black eye which Liz sports and her husband's drunk, aggressive behaviour are designed to imply that he beats her. Had Mrs Pardiggle not have entered the house, this awareness would not have been made public in the novel. Indeed, Liz and her friend Jenny, a fellow brickmaker's wife, suffer from a great deal of physical and emotional abuse from their husbands to the extent that they are made penniless, voiceless and powerless to do anything about it. 

What are your thoughts about crime in Bleak House?

A Review of Lady Chatterley's Lover

D.H. Lawrence's Lady Chatterley's Lover is not only an important book in terms of its literary merit, but also its socio-historic impact upon England's publishing world. Although the novel was written in the 1920s, an uncensored version was not published here until 1960. Even then it caused a great deal of scandal: Penguin, the publishing house for the text, was forced to undergo an obscenity trial due to the explicit erotic language and themes the book contained. they fought for the literary merit of the book and the case was concluded with the verdict "not guilty". This makes Lady Chatterley's Lover a key implement in British authors' attempts to discuss erotic concepts in modern texts. 

The story commences with the tale of a sexually licentious girl who marries Sir Clifford briefly before World War I. He returns from the war paralyzed from the waist down. This allows Lawrence to broach the the uncomfortable and forbidden question at the back of everyone's minds: "does it work?". Unfortunately for Sir Clifford, the answer is no. 

Connie, or Lady Chatterley, becomes depressed as a result of their sexless, joyless marriage and begins to seek a lover to satisfy her maternal cravings for a child. This plot is ensconced in a Hardy-esque condemnation of the industrialization of England, as well as a self-conscious examination of class differences.

Despite hearing mixed reviews for the book, I don't regret picking it up (or rather downloading it to my kindle) at all. The book is a pastiche of genres, which I believe is a reason why it doesn't sit well with many readers. It has a great focus on man's connection with nature, which is emblematic of Romantic writing, whilst displaying the futility of human life, terse vocabulary, and lack of sentimentality of modern writing. 

The first portion of the novel seems rather dry and hard to digest. Yet, this appears to merely be a stylistic mirroring of Connie's sexually barren state: once she secures a lover the writing becomes more poetic and much more enjoyable. Though Connie is hardly a likeable figure, doesn't modern fiction often strive to teach us that people cannot be labelled as being good or bad, but rather are more complicated?

So if you want an easy to read, yet important piece of fiction to add to your "To Read" list this summer, pick up Lady Chatterley's Lover​ and give it a shot!

Love, Stephanie