Friends and Relations - Edith Bowen

"Friends and Relations follows the exploits of four wealthy families
whose lives are changed forever by a torrid affair. The Studdart sisters each take a husband; for beautiful Laurel there is Edward Tilney, and for the introverted Janet there is Rodney Meggatt. But the marriages are complicated by changeable passions, and each character must navigate the conflict between familial piety and individual desire. With Bowen’s signature blend of tragedy and comedy, Friends and Relations is truly an investigation into the human heart, and the book is as beautiful, mysterious, and moving as its subject."

After reading Bowen's The House in Paris with no idea of the author and being completely blown away by it, I was deeply intrigued to read more of her work. 

Bowen's prose is truly a wonder to behold. The true master in show don't tell, her writing leaves you at once confused and deeply moved. A writer that I feel is fully writing for herself, she barely explains her work but it is so emotionally raw. Leaving you to just sit, and think.  Much like we often don't fully understand other people's feelings or thoughts, why should you be able to fully understand the feelings and emotions of her characters? You aren't allowed the easy emotional clarity offered in so much fiction, you are left in the dark just like in real life. This makes her books a deeply feminine experience, with them being rooted solely in emotions rather then logic or motive while never tipping into sentimentality. 

However, I do have a few gripes with this book. It felt less tight and polished then The House in Paris. There are too many characters and while they're sketched with skill, they can become unwieldy and confusing to keep track of. Following Theodora to school also feels like an unnecessary interlude. 

And, for all my great admiration of Bowen's style, there where sometimes when I wondered what people's deals were? Most specifically Edward.  His mother had an affair with a man and, so, was socially "ruined." But this happened when Edward was very young, he had barely, if any, understanding of what was going on. So, when he got older, I couldn't fully understand why he was so caught up on that event. Why had it so deeply scarred him that he wanted to remove his children from the house when the two people who had once had the affair, his mother and the man, are reunited? 

Another thing that was more obviously brought into my focus was the class dynamics. All these drawing rooms, well-kept gardens and country houses are maintained by servants who are barely perceptible in the novel and the sense of entitlement can be an irritant. 

Age Rating 15+. Nothing untoward but some more difficult prose. 

Go Tell It on the Mountain - James Baldwin

"With lyrical precision, psychological directness, resonating
symbolic power, and a rage that is at once unrelenting and compassionate, Baldwin chronicles a fourteen-year-old boy's discovery of the terms of his identity as the stepson of the minister of a storefront Pentecostal church in Harlem one Saturday in March of 1935. Baldwin's rendering of his protagonist's spiritual, sexual, and moral struggle of self-invention opened new possibilities in the American language and in the way Americans understand themselves."

This is my second Baldwin and I am again shocked by the brilliance of his work. He writes with such searing prose and honesty to the human condition. An eye opening mix of brutality, rawness, and elegant eloquence. 

Though I must be entirely honest, I was not as blown away by this book as by 'Giovanni's Room' though I think that was because of my own personal experience. I related more to the struggles of Giovanni's room then to the religious mania and pressure of 'Go Tell It on the Mountain', having not been raised in a religious environment. 

The structure of the book was unique, with most of the action happening in one evening as the family comes to church to pray together and we get to know what each one is praying for and their backstory as to how they got to this point. Allowing Baldwin a  huge amount of range explore different themes in different peoples lives, and we come to understand, if not condone everyone's actions.  The screaming hypocrisy of Gabriel’s brand of evangelism made me absolutely furious, but I also felt very moved by his story. And I loved Florence and Elizabeth's stories; their lives were hard and bitter, and the strength and sacrifice they needed to make to survive was impressive and heart-breaking. We tend not to think much of parents before they were parents, and I am always fascinated with the exploration of their own lives and sufferings, and how all that stuff inexorably trickles down: Baldwin may have never forgiven his father, but in this book, he gives Gabriel the grace of having his pain and guilt acknowledged.

This book does not have an agenda on race, religion, class, violence, or sexuality. This book is about these things, but they are never in the driver's seat, because the characters are. The characters are the glue between the intersection of these numerous difficult themes, and they show how out of these things arises an insurmountable complexity, an ambiguous amorphous blob of feelings.

I must speak about the amazing amount of attention and quality of the actual words that make up Baldwin's sentences. His prose is absolutely masterful, mimicking the flow and imagery of sermons. It give the whole book a weight and seriousness, and it also shows how imbedded these characters are within the church. The vocabulary of faith has worked itself into their mental spaces. 

Age Rating 15+. Some very serious themes such as abuse, rape, race, lynching, sex, addiction and abandonment. There is also some strong language. 

The Well of Loneliness - Radclyffe Hall

"Stephen is an ideal child of aristocratic parents—a fencer, a horse
rider and a keen scholar. Stephen grows to be a war hero, a bestselling writer and a loyal, protective lover. But Stephen is a woman, and her lovers are women. As her ambitions drive her, and society confines her, Stephen is forced into desperate actions." 

I' m conflicted about this book. On one hand I enjoyed the writing style, it was elegant and there were some genuinely beautiful and moving passages. The subject matter of queerness and gender non-conformity is dear to my heart, and I deeply related to many of Stephan's struggles which Hall expresses and explores with skill. 

However, the plot drags in the middle, and the opinions expressed are one-sided. Stephan is at least slightly an autobiographical representation of Hall and this gives the book a great emotional weight. But it also closes Hall's ability to write other points of view. The side characters of Wanda and Valerie are fascinating and show opposing reactions to living as a queer women in the early 1900s. I thought that with their introduction, Hall would explore some of the different view-points within the queer community at the time. But no... not at all. A thoroughly missed opportunity I feel, as the side characters turn out to serve no narrative purpose at all. 

I have to be honest that I didn't feel that this was accurately categorised as a lesbian book, though I understand why it was. Our understanding of people and psychology has come along quite a ways. I personally believe that Stephan, and possibly Radclyffe Hall in extension, weren't lesbians but transgender men that didn't have the words. The book itself talks about inverts and the "normal" women that fall in love with them. This also makes sense when looking at Stephan's attitudes to gay men which is frankly down right homophobic. If you read this as a transgender man hating that these man have what they don't i.e. a male body yet are "squandering" it by being feminine, then this makes more sense. Though it is by no means condonable. 

I could not help but be shocked at some of the hypocrisy, the books striving for acceptance of a minority while at the same time there is an underlying attitude of snobbishness and chauvinism towards other minorities. Stephan had certainly taken in the classist dogma of much of the landed gentry and would have been downright awful if she had been born male as her gender non-conformity was the only thing that gave her any self doubt/ interesting foibles. 

Age Rating 14+ Nothing untoward. 

The Discovery of Witches (All Souls #1) - Deborah Harkness

"Deep in the stacks of Oxford's Bodleian Library, young scholar Diana
Bishop unwittingly calls up a bewitched alchemical manuscript in the course of her research. Descended from an old and distinguished line of witches, Diana wants nothing to do with sorcery; so after a furtive glance and a few notes, she banishes the book to the stacks. But her discovery sets a fantastical underworld stirring, and a horde of daemons, witches, and vampires soon descends upon the library. Diana has stumbled upon a coveted treasure lost for centuries-and she is the only creature who can break its spell."

This book genuinely put me into a reading slump. I really tried to persevere, as the plot hooks of what was in the manuscript and what happened to Diana's parents kept me engaged. However, I...I just couldn't anymore and actually had to put it down. Harkness's glacial pacing and repetitive/obsolete descriptions where enough for me to start clocking out. The descriptions of multiple wines, intimate knowledge of Diana's exercise routine and a Wattpad like fascination while wardrobe descriptions padded this book far beyond it's warranted length. I am no enemy to atmosphere, slow pacing or heavy descriptions. I have read my fair share of 19th century novels to fine with that. But none of this description actually does anything, it serves little to no narrative purpose. 

What irritated me the most, however, was Harkness's characterisation. At first, I thought that this book was going to be an intelligent Twilight for grown-ups. The female lead is Diana, is a highly intelligent woman and well respected in her field. She’s also the daughter of two powerful witches who were murdered when she was seven years old. The main character wasn't helpless, thought for herself, didn't immediately adore her bloodsucking, murderous stalker or find his abusive behaviour endearing, and didn't seem interested in losing her entire identity to the first good-looking guy who wanted to eat her. A rebuttal of Twilight, almost.

But no. Despite Diana's increasing Mary Sue-ishness as she develops every witch ability ever known, she must constantly be rescued and protected by Edward, er, Matthew.

Matthew, meanwhile, is a complete jackass. (Excuse my French) Trotting out the obnoxious "pack mentality" trope so often used in "paranormal romance" (a genre that really, really needs to be marked better so that those of us looking for "urban fantasy" won't be blindsided every damn time), Matthew is neatly absolved from all responsibility for his sexist insistence that Diana obey him as her husband and for his volatile, potentially murderous temper if and when she doesn't comply. Who doesn't want a hyper controlling boyfriend that keeps a huge amount of secrets, keeps important information away from you, uses his temper to make you obedient and says, “I might not be able to control myself if you step away” after a first kiss. Diana is the otherwise highly intelligent woman who acts like a child whenever she’s in his presence. She has to be bullied and bated into using her powers, and saved time and time again by Matthew. Despite Matthew’s continual marvelling about how powerful and strong she is, her strength is barely in evidence.

It is really unfortunate. I am a sucker for academic settings (having lived in Oxford myself), urban fantasy and the general aesthetic of this book was wonderful. Large French castles, ancient libraries, large dysfunctional vampire families (wish there was more of that), horse riding. All right up my alley, with the potential to be something really amazing. A fusion of urban fantasy and dark academia. Unfortunately Harkness's characters and pacing completely threw me off. 

Age Rating 16+. Violence, sex, threat, torture (very tame though.)

The Never Ending Story - Michael Ende

"Only the right name gives beings and things their reality. A wrong
name makes everything unreal. That's what lies do.

Bastian is nobody's idea of a hero, least of all his own. Through the pages of an old book he discovers a mysterious magical world - a world of dragons, monsters, witches and giants. A world that is doomed unless a human can save it. Can Bastian succeed in battling terrible foes and find the strength he needs to give the Empress a new name?" 

I enjoyed a huge amount of this book. However, I must admit that I understand why the movie decided to change where the story ended. The first half of the book is truly amazing and I loved every minute of it. However once Bastian has been taken into Fantasia, things started to get rather wobbly from a plot point of view. While still incorporating a huge amount of stunning imagery and fun ideas, the plot felt aimless and only loosely tied together. Bastian wanders from place to place, scenario to scenario with no drive or purpose. I understand what Ende was trying to express, he used a very old folklore theme, of the corrupting influence of power and finding the joy of your own identity. However I don't think this theme was as well expressed as the theme of the importance of imagination and creativity expressed in the first half. 

I must say that Ende certainly knows his mythology/ folklore. I recognised many themes, emotional motifs and plot beats from other stories. Quite similar to the Arthurian legends. 

Age Rating 13+. Nothing untoward but some emotionally intense scenes. 

The Outsider - Albert Camus

"Meursault will not pretend. After the death of his mother, everyone
is shocked when he shows no sadness. And when he commits a random act of violence in Algiers, society is baffled. Why would this seemingly law-abiding bachelor do such a thing? And why does he show no remorse even when it could save his life? His refusal to satisfy the feelings of others only increases his guilt in the eyes of the law. Soon Meursault discovers that he is being tried not simply for his crime, but for his lack of emotion - a reaction that condemns him for being an outsider. For Meursault, this is an insult to his reason and a betrayal of his hopes; for Camus it encapsulates the absurdity of life."

I think the little book Gods must really be liking me recently. I have been reading amazingly profound book after book. 

This was another book that knocked me sideways (though, I must say, not to the same extent as say Giovanni's Room.) 

It was a very interesting read. The idea that someone is tried for not reacting in a conventional manner sits very close to home as someone who has Asperger's and thus doesn't react conventionally myself. However, I think that the people who argue that Meursault isn't a bad person, just someone unconventional, different, being unfairly persecuted by a out of date traditionalist society, must not have read the same book I did. Meursault is undoubtedly a bad person. Even if I do not feel nor express emotions the same way as "normal" people, it doesn't mean that sitting by while a pimp beats his girlfriend, a man abuses his dog, or killing a man in cold blood are acceptable things to do. 

I am unsure of what Camus was trying to express ideologically through this book. That all morality is just a social construct and thus false and meaningless? That people are more judged for being unconventional then they are for their actual crimes? The life in itself is inherently meaningless and thus your actions hold no meaning?

One of the main questions that was raised in the book was, what truly defines humanity or makes someone human? During Meursault's trial, he is constantly accused of not showing remorse and therefore as being cold and inhuman. He is most definitely human though, just detached. This raises the question of whether one should be expected to exhibit certain characteristics in certain situations to "keep their humanity". It also raises the question of whether much of our emotion is created by ourselves or the expectations of others to exhibit certain emotions in a given situation. The book is also an indictment on people's efforts to dictate other people's lives. We are constantly told what is right and as a means to justify our own sense of "what it means to be human." As someone who, on many occasions, has been accused of being cold, inhuman, even psychotic, merely for not displaying emotions in the expected way, this was a wonderful question to be mulled over. It also prompted me to be more honest myself. Why should I have to lie, as Meursault refuses to do, about what I do or do not feel.  

Camus's writing was also wonderful. Meursault lives very much "in" his body, he experiences the world through his senses rather than his emotions. This creates a brilliantly evocative, unique and absorbing tonal atmosphere. Camus's choice to have all the settings drenched in sun heightened the raw sensual savagery, of humanity being brutally illuminated. 

A thoroughly interesting book full of a complex and ambiguous philosophical messages, thoroughly open to interpretation and analysis. Age Rating 16+ Sex, murder, abuse, both domestic and animal. 

The House in Paris - Elizabeth Bowen

"When eleven-year-old Henrietta arrives at the Fishers’ well-
appointed house in Paris, she is prepared to spend her day between trains looked after by an old friend of her grandmother’s. Little does Henrietta know what fascinations the Fisher house itself contains–along with secrets that have the potential to topple a marriage and redeem the life of a peculiar young boy. By the time Henrietta leaves the house that evening, she is in possession of the kind of grave knowledge that is usually reserved only for adults."

I was unsure of what to expect with this book, as I picked it up merely because of an intriguing blurb and an aesthetically pleasing cover. What I found inside was a deeply unusual, constrained, tense yet stunningly beautiful work. This book haunts you. 

Some have said that the main characters, the 11 year old Henrietta and the 9 year Leopold, don't act like real children. I have to beg to differ. The rigid mistrust and hierarchy is very true to the experience of the inner lives of children. (Or at least to my experience of childhood.) Children don't fully understand that they are children, thus their emotions and inner lives are by no means neutered by that fact. 

The plot is relatively simple, a sad romantic entanglement between a group of friends. It's simplicity is what makes it brilliant, it allows Bowen the time and space to really explore the emotions, tensions and atmosphere of these characters. What most struck me was Bowen's writing style. Bowen’s sensibility is heightened to the pitch of a lonely woman in a big house who hears what sounds like an intruder downstairs in the middle of the night. Inanimate objects become animated and not only contribute to the tension of every passing moment but define it. The way light falls or dwindles becomes a coded text of prophecy. It took me a while to get into the rhythm of the book, at once feeling melodiously slow and tensely frenetic. Bowen's primary story-telling device is dialogue, dialogue filled with hidden meaning delivered in staccato. This tempo gets even more frenetic when Bowen writes in monologue, telling a person's thoughts. Bowen covers a range of themes in a relatively short book: the creation of identity, time, secrets and lies, sexuality and sensuality, the constraints of society, death, the relationship between mothers and their children.

The most fascinating character to me was definitely Madame Fisher, the controlling and menacing matriarch. Her ever-watching presence that consumes the house with a creeping ennui. 

A story of passion and heartbreak, of sexual power and destruction - without ever being voyeuristic, it is deeply erotic. Leopold is the living personification of passion spent and lost, and his future, standing at the station in the end, is just as open as his mother's was before her path was chosen. This novel spins an intricate and horrifying atmosphere, that feels at once deeply peaceful and deeply unnerving. A book that is less enjoyed but felt. I would highly recommend.

Age Rating 16+ Adult themes and a unique writing style that might need a slightly higher comprehension to understand/appreciate.