One of the nifty things about being friend with Lady Pole, among myriads, is her excellent taste in literature, and her openness about discussing books. So a little while ago, we came up with the idea of a book discussion here at the Free For All where we could air our real views about some of those “classic” books that everyone is “supposed to read”…and supposed to value/treasure/enjoy.
The truth of the matter is that even when two people read the same book…no two people read the same book. They bring their lives with them into the text, and that totally influences how they perceive, digest, and remember the book. And this was something Lady Pole and I discovered as we chatted about some of those classics that we had encountered in our lives. So here is a much more mature, adultish version of that discussion for you to enjoy. While we are very pleased with our own opinions, what we really hope you, dear readers, take away from these discussions is the realization that: 1) Reading “classics” can be really fun and meaningful and significant (that’s part of what makes them “classics” after all!), 2) That you are under no obligation whatsoever to enjoy the classics that you read, as you’ll soon see, and 3) That your own story is critically important to how you read any book. So here is our chat–we sincerely hope it encourages you to have a conversation of your own!
The next book in our series is Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre, first published in 1847.
First Encounter:
Arabella: I first discovered Jane thanks to the fortunate combination of a summer reading list and a family vacation gone awry. I was heading into my freshman year of high school, my father had business in Italy, and my mother and I tagged along to enjoy the culture and the atmosphere….it turned out we were in something of an industrial area without a ton to do, and few transportation options. So I spent a good deal of that vacation plowing through the list of books I had been provided by my new high school. We could choose three off a pretty long list, so I chose The Picture of Dorian Gray, Jane Eyre, and The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, which made for a very interesting trip, at least literarily speaking…And I think being somewhat alone with Jane on that trip made my reading of her story that much more intense.
Lady Pole: I was embarrassingly late to the game on this book. As in, I finished it this summer, having gone my entire life so far without having this classic in my repertoire. I’ve had a beautiful leather(ish)-bound copy compiled with Bronte’s sisters’ works on my shelf since high school (having gone through an intense classics phase after my encounter with Pride and Prejudice) and Waldenbooks (remember them?) was nice enough to fuel my newfound passion with beautifully bound discount classics that looked just beautiful on my shelf. And that’s where my copy of Jane Eyre stayed for a disconcerting number of years. Having seen a poster from the delightfully named project Recovering the Classics (http://recoveringtheclassics.com/) with the quote: “I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will” from said classic, I fell in love with the quote, grew covetous of the poster and was determined to read the book to which this fantastic quote belonged.
First Impressions
Arabella: I had been told by a number of educators in my life that I had to read Jane Eyre, but while I was excited to make them happy, I was also expected something of a 19th-century moralistic slog, like a number of other books I had been assigned to read over the years (I’m looking at you, Little Dorrit). And, I’ll admit, the early part of the book was much of what I had been expecting, particularly the scenes at Lowood School, where there is a considerable amount of discussion about being good and virtuous…but then, I realized that something very different way happening here. Jane wasn’t terribly interested in learning how to behave. Or to please others. She had a moral compass that was far stronger and far more discerning than that. And it meant that her story was going to be vastly different from what I had expected. And by the time she left Lowood to take up residence at Thornfield Hall, I loved seeing the world through her eyes. Especially, I loved how honest she was. I remember very distinctly a chapter opening when Jane admitted she loved Rochester, even though she knew she could never do anything about it because of the huge differences in power and class that stood between them. She didn’t downplay her feelings, or deny them to make things easier, which made her a startling voice in literature, even as a twentieth century reader. I myself had (have) an enormous crush on Rochester, so the parts of the book without him were a bit of a challenge for me then (though not so much now), but, like Lady Pole, I thought their reunion was perfect and satisfying and wonderful.
Lady Pole: I tried to read this book a few years ago. I have had wonderful discussions with Arabella about digging into a dense, rich book in the wintertime and felt Jane Eyre was to be that winter’s book. I started it. I enjoyed it. I put it down. I didn’t pick it back up again. If you press me for the reason why I didn’t finish it I really couldn’t give you one. My best guess is that I had a moment where I turned into Dug from Up and another book (or my Netflix queue, or something) caught my eye and… squirrel! That was it. The lovely ribbon bookmark that came stitched into my edition was still in the same place where I left it, but I’m happy to say that Jane, ever the stalwart heroine welcomed me back to that place and guided me on through the rest of the book. This time, there was no stopping me. I can’t tell you how fascinating I found Jane. I didn’t always agree with her choices (I guess I have more human foibles in me than her; let’s just say the story would have been much shorter had I been in her shoes…), but I’ve yet to come across a literary heroine that I respect as much. Bronte didn’t take the easy way out; Jane didn’t have the looks, money or other Victorian qualities that would make a heroine successful, but she had her morals, her own brand of plucky perseverance, and a willingness to withstand multiple hardships fairly stoically and this, to me, made her one of the best heroines I’ve read in a long time. Yes, there was a certain amount of deus-ex-machina in the ending, but nothing seemed out of character for Jane and, even though much of her late fortune came seemingly out of nowhere, it still felt as though she earned it, making the ending ultimately very satisfying. Oh, and the marriage proposal scene easily ranks as my favorite of all time in literature (and that includes both proposals in Pride and Prejudice).
Outside Influences
Arabella: I knew nothing about this book going into it, except for the fact that it caused a big scandal upon its release because it advocated for an independent woman, and for a moral, fundamental good over social “goods” and “evils”. But I never expected to find such a frank, self-confident, and marvelous heroine in its pages, or a love story that still strikes me as a wholly unique one, even today. Since then, I’ve seen a number of adaptations of the book, none of which do it real justice, though the one with Ruth Wilson and Toby Stephens comes pretty close, especially in terms of Jane’s whole story.
Lady Pole: Though I hadn’t seen any movie interpretations of this book, I was well familiar with the “madwoman in the attic” trope that stemmed from this story. I also knew that this book had a Gothic tone to it, which is something I’ve gravitated towards since my childhood reading, making my late arrival to actually reading this book that much more puzzling. Aside from knowing it was one of Arabella’s favorite books of all time, I new scant little else about it.
Recent Reflections:
Arabella: As someone who feels very strongly about portraying equitable and honest relationships in romance I have to admit, in an attempt to be an adult here, that Rochester is a lying ass who treats his ward despicably (see the cartoon below). And in any other hands than Charlotte Bronte’s, I think I would hate him. But I also have to admit that she does such remarkable job showing his torment, and the trap in which society (again, with it’s ideas of “good” and “evil”) has caught him and Bertha, that I still sympathize with him..and still love him (if Jane can admit it, so can I). I also love their relationship because Jane doesn’t tolerate any of his emo nonsense, chipping away at his woe-is-me veneer until we get to see that there is a decent man with a surprising sense of humor underneath. I’ve also learned to feel a lot more towards St. John than I ever did as a younger reader. I hate love triangles, and was so terrified that Jane was going to forsake herself and run off with him that I hated him on sight and sound. But now I can see what Bronte was doing in creating his character, and showing how trying to be “good” can literally kill you, while following that higher sense of right and wrong can be your true salvation–and I try to feel for him the way Jane did. It’s a work in progress.
Lady Pole: Considering that these reflections are all recent because I’ve only just read the book, let me just add that the Jane Eyre poster from Recovering the Classics now hangs on my office wall, nestled comfortably among posters of other favorite classics. I think that pretty much sums it up.
It’s no secret that I’ve spent a fair amount of my Saturdays @ the South space discussing children’s books. This is partly because I believe that children’s books can be great literature and also because I think that adults can find great enjoyment in reading a child’s book, whether or not a child is present during that reading. So in the spirit of All Hallows Read, I’d like to talk about spooky books that are good for kids and the kid in all of us.
Goosebumps, by R.L. Stine is probably what most people think of when they think of scary stories for kids. This perennially popular series has maintained its status as a hit for several generations now, with an additional boost from last year’s movie starring Jack Black. I have to be honest, I’ve never read Goosebumps; they were published after my young self had moved on from kids’ chapter books. (Fortunately, my older self has come back around to kids’ books.) I do, however, have fond memories of reading the Fear Street series by R. L. Stine, a slightly scarier series that was designed for teens rather than emerging chapter-book readers. This series whiled away uncountable hours during my formative reading years and to me, it will always be the series I most associate with Stine. Fortunately, there are still some copies available in the NOBLE system, for those of you who would like to check out some vintage scares.
I did a search for Bunnicula on the Free for All and was completely appalled that we haven’t mentioned this seminal kids’ series here before. Given both my and Arabella’s mutual love for this book and it’s subsequent follow-ups, I’m really not sure how that happened, but I’m going to rectify that glaring, borderline-criminally-negligent, absence today. Bunnicula, by James and Deborah Howe is quite possibly the best spooky series for kids. It is about a rabbit who gets adopted by a family after finding him in a movie theater that was showing Dracula, hence they gave him the name Bunnicula. The pets already in residence at the family’s home, an erudite dog of letters named Harold (he is the one “writing” the story) and a delightfully well-read cat named Chester, have their suspicions about the new family member. After vegetables in the fridge start becoming bleached-white overnight (coincidentally the only time the new rabbit is truly active) Harold and Chester have their suspicions that Bunnicula is, in fact, a vampire. I have it on good authority that Arabella’s favorite in this series is The Celery Stalks at Midnight. My personal favorite is Howliday Inn, but I recommend starting with the first book, simply titled Bunnicula, as it gives Bunnicula’s origin story and was the loving work of both James and his late-wife Deborah Howe, who tragically passed away before the book was published. This series strikes the perfect balance of scary, humor and legend and one that I love returning to this time of year.
While these are some of the best series that can provide exceptional, spooky reading this time of year, there are several stand-alone kids’ books that are worth a look during All Hallows Read:
I mentioned this book last year during All Hallows Read and I will likely mention it every year subsequently. This book is amazing, spooky and creepy with overarching themes of friendship, eternity and kindness that can easily make it part of the classical canon. The edition at the South Branch is one published just last year with illustrations by Gris Grimly that are tonally an artistically perfect to the text. Like several of Bradbury’s books, this one is easily enjoyed by young and old alike. This is my Halloween equivalent to A Christmas Carol; it deserves to be part of a regular Halloween tradition.
This picture book is one of the rare ones that I think may be enjoyed even more adults that it will by children. This is partly because it is impossible to read this book without hearing Seinfeld’s trademark stand-up style and observational humor. It’s also because this book is a reminiscence of childhood Halloweens that kids’ today don’t necessarily appreciate. (I particularly identify with the plastic masks and costumes that barely made it through 1 hour of wear.) The illustrations in this book are stunning, with vivid colors that really capture the tone of Seinfield’s text. Be prepared for a sarcastic romp through Halloweens past.
The ghosts of London are disappearing to a disease affecting only those who have died by not crossed over. Haunted houses are being left empty, or worse, trapping ghosts who don’t have the proper clearance to be there. It’s up to Talker (a person who can see and talk to ghosts) Sam Toop to find out what’s going on and see what he can do to stop it. This book is a delightful story set in Victorian London that looks into both the inner life of ghosts and those who are haunted by them. This puts a friendly spin on hauntings that gets the reader on the ghosts’ side. Its just the right level of spooky to satiate kids with a hunger for the scary but not so creepy that it will keep them up at night. Plus it’s a good balance of Victorian-style fiction for those of us who love a good, classic ghost story.
This is a graphic novel with stunning art that takes a look into the cultural traditions of both Halloween and La Dia de los Muertos. Cat’s family moves to a Northern California town for the health of her little sister Maya who has cystic fibrosis, only to find that ghosts are a natural part of the town’s culture and traditions. What happens isn’t necessarily spooky, but it does help Maya and Cat grow closer while they examine their roots, traditions and gain a better understanding of the ghosts that inhabit the town. This book doesn’t talk down to kids or sugar-coat a terrible disease, but still manages a sense of whimsy that allows it to be fun and hopeful, making it a completely accessible read for adults as well kids. I highly recommend this book, even if you’re not into graphic novels, as the cinematic qualities of the art will easily engage you to the point where you forget you’re reading in panels instead of lines.
Till next week, dear readers, I hope you’re able to find just the right story that satisfies your hunger for spooky during All Hallows Read. We at the library will be here in the meantime to help you with all your reading and viewing needs, be they spooky or otherwise.
Things are tough out there, beloved patrons–tensions are high, emotions are volatile, and those of us with autumnal allergies are sniffly and miserable. So, with that in mind, please enjoy these five things to make you smile before we get to the books:
This plush orange, who seems very content with life:
2. The Giant Pumpkin from this year’s Topsfield Fair, which weighed in at 2,075.5 pounds, making it not only the largest pumpkin in Topsfield Fair History, but the largest pumpkin in North America!
3. A hedgehog dressed as Dracula (seemed timely, right?)
4. Apple Cider Donuts from Idylwile Farms in Acton:
5. And, of course….new books. New books can make any day just a little bit better….let’s see what we’ve got for this week:
Hag-Seed: Though many know her because of her novel The Handmaid’s Tale, Margaret Atwood has written over forty works of fiction, poetry, and essays, and this newest of her novels is one of the most hotly anticipated releases of the year. A retelling of Shakespeare’s The Tempest, that also includes a staging of The Tempest, Atwood’s book focuses on Felix, the Artistic Director of the Makeshiweg Theatre Festival–a man at the top of his game, and a man deeply troubled by memories and old grudges. He finally gets a chance to right his wrongs, to have his revenge, during a staging of The Tempest in a prison theater program…but he never counted on the effect the work, and his own work, might have on him in return. Even those familiar with Shakespeare’s work will find this new novel fresh, inventive, and wonderfully surprising, because Atwood so deftly weaves her own insight and characterization into a plot that never feels borrowed. The Boston Globe agrees, writing that “What makes the book thrilling, and hugely pleasurable, is how closely Atwood hews to Shakespeare even as she casts her own potent charms, rap-composition included… Part Shakespeare, part Atwood, “Hag-Seed” is a most delicate monster — and that’s “delicate” in the 17th-century sense. It’s delightful.”
Eternal Frankenstein: Mary Shelley invented the modern horror novel with her 1818 Frankenstein. It has never been out of print in its nearly-200-year existence. It has inspired legions of authors, filmmakers, artists, and readers across years, countries, and generations. And this volume, edited by Ross E. Lockhart, pays tribute to the greatness of Shelley’s creation, as well as to Shelley herself, in a new collection of sixteen short stories. These are the perfect appetizer-length stories to get your All Hallows Read started right, and an impressive contribution to the Frankenstein cannon. It’s also enormously gratifying to see Mary herself appear in these stories, and to have such a presence in this book, reminding us of the debt that we horror fans owe–for new comers, there are also appearances by Tesla and Stalin, among many other historic characters, and a wide array of time periods and narrators, as well. Publisher’s Weekly was impressed enough to give this collection a starred review, hailing “This impressive compendium contains a rich array of short stories…All of the writing is high quality, all the stories are suspenseful, and would make an excellent college classroom companion to Frankenstein because of its relatable narratives interwoven with history and biography, as well as some vivid present-day tale…that address bullying, loneliness, and body image.”
A Gambler’s Anatomy: Jonathan Letham made his name by breaking all the rules of genre with ease and impressive skill, and its has ensured that this new release is also one of the most hotly anticipated books of the year. The hero of Letham’s tale is Bruno Alexander, a stylish professional gambler who lives to squeeze enormous sums from hapless amateurs. But when his luck runs out, and his health begins to fail, Bruno finds himself begin flown to California for an experimental surgery–and revisiting the course of the strange, fantastical life that has brought him to this point. Facing an unsure fate, and grappling with powers he doesn’t quite understand, Bruno begins to wonder whether he has really been calling the shots in his life, or whether he is merely a pawn, at the whim of fate. The result is a story that Lithub describes as “a spy story wrapped up in a farce wrapped up in a social justice quest narrative, with a dash of horror and the paranormal thrown in for good measure. A tragicomic gem.”
The Risen: Drenched in atmosphere and full of fully-realized characters, Ron Rash’s new book is a perfect piece of escapism for those looking for a new, suspenseful, and captivating thriller. It all begins in the summer of 1969, when sixteen-year-old Eugene and his older brother, Bill, are swimming in a secluded creek in their remote Appalachian hometown. There they met a stunning stranger named Ligeia, originally from Daytona Beach, who entrances them both–and also drives them irrevocably apart. Decades later, Bill has become a respected surgeon, while Eugene has become the town’s resident failure. But when their shared past returns to haunt them, Eugene is forced to delve into his memories and try desperately to recall which of them is true, before the past destroys any hope of Eugene’s or Bill’s future. The Washington Post gave Rash’s novel rave reviews, calling it “Compelling… Rash, as always, has an absolutely sure sense of place… He is a riveting storyteller, ably heightening the tension between the story’s past and present… A story about control, evil and the nature of power — both to save and to kill.”
Homeward Bound: While there were a fair number of raised eyebrows and discussion over Bob Dylan’s Nobel Prize last week, which is really exciting, because it means people are thinking about these things. It also resulted in a lot of discussion about the power of song, and song lyrics, to shape people, affect their thinking, and provide a soundtrack to their lives. And few people embody that power more than Paul Simon. Simon has sold over 100 million records, won 15 Grammys, and has been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame–twice. And he has done it by constantly evolving, trying new forms of expression, and embracing all the wonderful foibles and details that make humans so nifty. In this first major biography of the seventy-five-year old Simon, Peter Ames Carlin looks not only as his life and art, but at the people whose lives he has touched, from Carrie Fisher to Leonard Bernstein, from Nelson Mandela to the thousands of people who came to Central Park to see him reunite with Art Garfunkel. The result is a powerful and fascinating work that Kirkus Reviews cheers as a “nuanced, fascinating portrait…Simon’s music career defies easy categorization―much as his relationship with Garfunkel does―but in Carlin’s portrayal, his legacy as an innovative songwriter and musician is undeniable. An absorbing and layered study of ‘one of the most influential voices in Western popular culture.’”
In his play An Ideal Husband, Oscar Wilde wrote “I always pass on good advice. It is the only thing to do with it.” As far as I am concerned the same can be said of books. There is very little I enjoy more in this world than passing on a book that I have enjoyed to another reader. And, it turns out, I have enjoyed a lot of scary stories in my time. In putting together the display at the Main Library for All Hallows Read, I realized that my stupidly long arms came in handy as I harvested books from the shelves like apples from trees.
Not only that, but we’ve had several patrons requesting scary stories for their Halloween reading, which fills me with more joy than I can express here. I love sharing books in general, but realizing that there are other people who enjoy the shiver-inducing kind of books that I do is another aspect of being a reader that is so magical.
So, with that in mind, I figured it was time to share with you, dear readers, some of our best spine-tingling, gasp-worthy, dread-inducing books for your All-Hallows-Read-ing pleasure! And feel free to let us know which books are making an impression on you, too–after, like good advice, books should be passed on, as well!
Scary Stories to Tell In The Dark: I know we mentioned this book last year, but seriously, if you grew up in the late eighties or nineties, you probably had at least a passing relationship with this book. Most of the people I spoke with, however, need only to hear the title of this book to start shrieking, years and years later, that those stories…and moreover the illustrations, oh good Lord the illustrations were one of the most terrifying aspects of their growing-up. Largely culled from folklore, these stories play on every fear your brain stem holds from ions back…the dark…strange sounds….spiders…..and does it in quick, but descriptive detail, providing a perfect bit of bite-sized terror. I still carry traces of the terror these stories induced in me to this day. The only consolation is that so many other people apparently do, too….
The Shining: We all have a cultural memory of Jack Nicholson hacking through a door and leering, but how many know the novel that inspired this part? Stephen King’s third novel is so much more than Kubrick’s adaptation–and that’s nothing against Kubrick at all, but there is a lot of haunting subtlety in the text that you can’t put on film. Even as the troubled Torrance family moves to the Overlook Hotel in the hope of turning over a new leaf, there is the hint of darkness overlaying their conversations, a whisper of things to come that makes their seeming mundanity increasingly gripping. Even if you know what is going to happen, and the odd abilities that young Danny Torrance possesses, it won’t spoil the reading of this chilling, visceral bit of horror. Also, the Library has a little tiny paperback edition that is remarkably light (and thus easy to transport!) but shaped like a brick, and I think it might be the cutest book we own. Come see for yourself!
Collected Ghost Stories by M.R. James: File under “oldie but goodie”–James’ stories have been around for a century, but his works, and the format he used are still considered seminal works in horror fiction to this day. Though a bit of a traditionalist when it came to his opinions on literature…and most other aspects of his life, James truly gifted at ghost stories, largely relying on implication and suggestion to his advantage, forcing the reader to fill in the blanks in his stories with their own nightmares. The result is a set of stories that are occasionally gruesome, often weird (Lovecraft was a big fan of James’ work), and truly unsettling. There’s a reason that James is still cited as one of the most important horror writers of the past century—and still read widely today.
I Am Providence: And speaking of Lovecraft…Nick Mamatas’ new book is a perfectly creepy, deeply insightful, twisted little novel that makes terrific reading for those who know Lovecraft’s writing, and those who only know his reputation. This murder mystery of sorts unfolds in two story-lines–one from a female author at a Lovecraft convention who discovers the body of the man with whom she was sharing a room–and the dead man himself, from his drawer in the morgue. While Mamatas isn’t above mocking Lovecraft’s fan-boys with whip-sharp brutality, but he also provides a beautifully eloquent insight into what Lovecraft does well–and what makes him so utterly deplorable. The result is a book that will have you laughing, right up until everything gets weird…and shockingly, disturbingly real…
Until next time, dear reader….be sure to read with the lights on!
I had a perfectly nice blog post planned for today’s Wednesday @ West. But when I got to work this morning, a brief conversation with my co-workers relieved that we are all feeling a rather high level of anxiety over the upcoming election. My gut told me that we are not alone. A quick Google search confirmed my suspicion.
The American Psychological Association recently asked about election related stress in their annual Stress in America Survey. They found that a majority (52%) of Americans are finding this year’s election to be a “somewhat” or “significant” source of stress. And the stress is not limited to voters from one party. The APA is so concerned about these results that they have published recommendations for Americans to cope with election stress.
It occurred to me, dear patrons, that the library has much to offer our stressed out compatriots during and after this contentious election. So I put aside my original post idea to offer you an additional ten suggestions to help you cope with political (or any other kind) of stress.
Read books. I’m not just being biased here. Science backs me up. Studies have shown that reading is the best and fastest way to lower stress levels. It works faster and reduces stress more than any of the other ways that were studied. And you don’t need oodles of time for it either. Just six minutes of reading can reduce your stress by 68%. Personally, I find books that I have fond memories of from my childhood are best at reducing my stress levels. For me, those books include Anne of Green Gables and Little Women. When I took an unscientific poll on my personal Facebook page, I got a long list of books that my friends and acquaintances loved as children. In fact, I got so many responses that will have to be a whole other post in the future. But here are just a few: Winnie the Pooh, James and the Giant Peach,Bread and Jam for Frances, Heidi, Little House on the Prairie series, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, everything by Dr. Seuss and Charlotte’s Web.
Talk about books. If you’re anything like me, the lack of civil discourse in this election is one of the most upsetting parts. If you need a reminder that we, as Americans, can still have polite discussions about something, stop by one of the library’s book groups. No matter how fervently we disagree about the literary merits of a title, we promise we’ll keep it polite!
Drink tea. Unsurprisingly perhaps, it is a British study that confirms what tea lovers have long believed: drinking a cup of tea can reduce your stress. For a real Stress Relieving Triple Play, come to the West Branch’s next Literatea, where you can find books to read, talk about books and drink tea. As a happy coincidence, the next Literatea is actually taking place on Election Day, so once you’ve done your civic duty, put it out of your mind and treat yourself to some relaxation.
In a similar vein, tai chi is a great stress reducer. The Main Library frequently runs six week long tai chi classes. If you can’t make it one of those, however, Sunset Tai chi: simplified tai chi for relaxation and longevity by Ramel Rones can help you get some of the same benefits.
Learn something new. The British National Health Service has reported that lifelong learners have an increased ability to cope with stress. And lifelong learning is our passion at the library. Our raison d’etre, so to speak. Check out our Event Calendar for all your options, but if you’d like my suggestion, I’d check out 20th Century American Poetry, which happens to start tonight.
Immerse yourself in music. Ah yes, music, both listening to it and making it can certainly sooth the soul. Whichever way you prefer to de-stress, we’ve got you covered. If you prefer to be carried away from your cares by listening to some great music, check out the library’s Fall Concert Series. There’s a performance with Sweet Wednesday this coming Monday at the Main Library. If making music is more your speed, check out the Sound Recording Studio in the Creativity Lab downtown.
Make art. A study at Drexel College found that even if you’re terrible at it, making art reduces stress levels. This is another area where we’ve got you covered. If I were you, I’d check out the almost limitless possibilities for making art in the Creativity Lab. And if you’d like some books to further inspire your creativity, check out this recent list.
Have fun with your kids. Indiana University Health reports that having fun with family can reduce stress. We’ve got all sorts of help for this one. First, what is more fun than story time? Bring your kids and settle in for some great picture books, songs and crafts. Or if you (like me) love playing with Legos, you could attend a Family Lego Day. Or you could check out the Autumn Story Walk currently on the Bike Path at Lt. Ross Park in West Peabody. The Story Walk is yet another Stress Relieving Triple Play since it combines family fun, reading and a nature walk.
As the APA’s recommendations remind us, no matter what happens on November 8th, life will go on. Until then, my fellow readers, we wish you as much peace of mind as possible and remind you that the library’s here for you no matter what happens!
Apropos of nothing, I learned this week that the colorful mantis shrimp has twelve color receptors in its impressively enormous eyes, which is four times more than humans have. It also attacks by punching its prey so hard and so fast that it can create underwater shock waves. It doesn’t seem fair at first for one crustacean to be so awesome, but the truth is that the mantis shrimp’s shrimp-brain takes in visual information differently that ours–which also means that it doesn’t “see colors” in the same way that we do (there are scientists who gave these shrimp color tests. No, seriously).
But learning about this feisty little coral reef dweller got me thinking about what it would be like to see through another set of eyes, and to perceive colors differently, since scientists now believe that humans don’t all see the same colors in the same way.
…And do you know what a phenomenal way to experience the sight–and indeed, sound, smell, taste, and touch–of another person is? Through books!
(Think about who is asking the questions here–that was kind of an easy one, really….)
But, in all seriousness, one of the things I love about literature is the opportunity it provides to see the world through a new pair of eyes; to try food that I would otherwise never have tasted; to hear music through someone else’s ears, with someone else’s understanding and someone else’s memories to interpret that sensory input in a new way. In this way, books can be so much more than escapes or entertainment–they can actually allow you to live a new life for a little while. And that kind of experience can stay with you, and transform the way you perceive the world around you and interact with your own senses.
Now, just like everyone sees color a little differently, every book is going to affect an individual reader in a different way. But since we are talking about senses, I thought I might give you a brief list of my favorite examples of what we’re going to call “sensory literature”–those books that spoke deeply to my senses of taste,touch, sight, smell, and hearing, in the hopes that they might inspire you, too!
Taste:
The Historian: I don’t care that this is supposed to be about a twentieth-century hunt for Dracula, and a young girl’s coming of age. The truth of the matter is that this book made me hungrier than quite possibly any other book I have ever read (and I am including Charlie and the Chocolate Factory in that category). Perhaps it is because Kostova is so focused on the idea of the vampire that every item her characters consume become of monumental importance; maybe the idea is indeed to stir an insatiable hunger in the reader to help them understand what drives not only Vlad the Impaler through the centuries, but also the intrepid academics who pursue him around the world across three separate narratives. I’m not sure. What I do know is that, by page thirty, I had read descriptions of fresh-baked bread and chocolate that made me think that I had never actually eaten bread or chocolate before that moment in time. And as these brave intellectuals cross continents, they are treated to local dishes, regional treats, and rare delicacies that had my mouth watering. This is an engaging, thoughtful, and intriguing book–but please, for your own sake, bring a snack with you when you read it.
Sight:
The Defense: Vladimir Nabokov lived his life with grapheme-color synesthesia, a phenomenon in which, letters or numbers are perceived by the brain as inherently colored. He described his perception to the BBC in 1962 thusly: “V is a kind of pale, transparent pink: I think it’s called, technically, quartz pink: this is one of the closest colors that I can connect with the V. And the N, on the other hand, is a greyish-yellowish oatmeal color.” He also heard color, explaining that “The long “a” of the English alphabet has for me the tint of weathered wood, but a French “a” evokes polished ebony..” As a result, Nabokov’s work is full of rich color and sensory detail that makes each scene come alive in a kind of hallucinogenic way, as if some incredible filter had been put over whatever instance of daily life he described. You get this is spades in Lolita, but The Defense, Nabokov’s third book, was the first one that I read, and thus, the one that taught me how to see through his remarkable eyes. The story of a doomed, genius chess-player is, in itself, haunting and touching and surprisingly romantic, but it is the way Nabokov describes Luzhin’s world that made this book one of my all-time favorites. I dare you to read this book and not find chess boards and chess pieces in every shadow that passes by.
Touch:
Dark Places: This is a bit of a tricky category, since ‘touch’ and ‘feeling’ can include so many different sensations, but, for my money, few writers can pull off a sense of physically being in a space, and enduring all the sensations that involves, better than Gillian Flynn. It was a toss-up between this book and her debut, Sharp Objects, but I enjoyed Dark Places much more, so we’re going to talk about that one. A fascinating novel that plays with time and memory, grief and guilt in really interesting ways, this book focuses on Libby Day, the only member of her family to survive a gruesome murder. Her brother was imprisoned for the crime, but, short on funds and utterly adrift in life, Libby accepts a commission from a local crime club to investigate the case again. Though the story itself is fascinating, Flynn is a marvel at creating immersive details–in this case, the book takes place in an economically dead area of Kansas (matching Libby’s own emotional state more often than not), from shady strip clubs to run-down restaurants to the homes of her friends and family. There were a number of times while reading this book that I wanted to (and did) wash my hands, because the scenes felt so real that I felt encased with their grime. It’s those kind of details that make this book so realistic, and keeps the mystery and suspense of the plot so incredibly gripping.
Smell:
Perfume, the Story of a Murderer: When it first hit the English-speaking market, Patrick Süskind’s novel about an 18th-century French orphan who is born with an exceptional sense of smell received the highest price ever paid for a novel in translation–before it even had a translator. When you read it, however, it’s easy to understand why (and to see just what miracles a good translator can perform). Süskind literally creates smell-scapes in his book describing Jean-Baptiste Grenouille’s world through his remarkable olfactory perception. As we delve deeper and deeper into his twisted world, it becomes more and more easy to justify the horrid things Grenouille does in order to capture the perfect, illusive scent, because the reader is so captivated that his hunger–and the hunger of those who crave what he can do–is so real that it is impossible to turn away. What is really incredible about this book is the fact that I have no idea what many of the items mention in this book smell like. But I know I love or hate them because of the way Süskind brings each scent to life, and complicates the world of his book with scents, as well as morals.
Hearing:
The Chimes: On the surface, Anna Smail’s book is a dystopian fantasy novel where the citizens of London are isolated and kept ignorant by the constant chimes played out to them. But in the midst of this strangely horrifying scenario rises a young orphan named Simon, who has managed to cling to a fundamentally important memory–he has to find someone. Along his way, he falls in with a group of ragamuffins who find a way to use music as a tool of revolution and freedom, in a world that has only, until now used it as a form of oppression. Because music is so fundamental to this plot, Smaill weaves musical expressions and dynamics into every exchange and description, creating a world that is more auditory than anything else. When she describes the sound of cheese melting, you can hear it, in a way that isn’t quite feasible in real life. The passion for music, and for sound in general, seeps through every word of this book, and is guaranteed to make your ears ring in the best of ways by the time it is through.
One of the nifty things about being friend with Lady Pole, among myriads, is her excellent taste in literature, and her openness about discussing books. So a little while ago, we came up with the idea of a book discussion here at the Free For All where we could air our real views about some of those “classic” books that everyone is “supposed to read”…and supposed to value/treasure/enjoy.
The truth of the matter is that even when two people read the same book…no two people read the same book. They bring their lives with them into the text, and that totally influences how they perceive, digest, and remember the book. And this was something Lady Pole and I discovered as we chatted about some of those classics that we had encountered in our lives. So here is a much more mature, adultish version of that discussion for you to enjoy. While we are very pleased with our own opinions, what we really hope you, dear readers, take away from these discussions is the realization that: 1) Reading “classics” can be really fun and meaningful and significant (that’s part of what makes them “classics” after all!), 2) That you are under no obligation whatsoever to enjoy the classics that you read, as you’ll soon see, and 3) That your own story is critically important to how you read any book. So here is our chat–we sincerely hope it encourages you to have a conversation of your own!
The next book in our series is Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, published in 1813.
First Encounter Lady Pole: I was in high school the first time I read Pride and Prejudice; I think it was sophomore or junior year. A friend of mine had read it and told me I would love it. It also helped that we were working together on finding material for a speech competition (yup, I was one of those kids) and the amount of dialog in the book lent itself to being a good option. We qualified for the state competition with our hand-picked excerpt, so this book brings back good memories, as well.
Arabella: I was in college, taking a course on The Early English Novel, which looked at novels from the 18th- and early 19th-centuries not only in terms of their stories, but in terms of their printing and distribution history. It was one of my favorite classes that year, even though (and this is the mark of a good professor, dear readers, none of the books were particularly enjoyable for me. Pride and Prejudice came towards the end of the semester, after Clarissa, The Mysteries of Udolpho, and Northanger Abbey, among others.
First Impressions Lady Pole: I fell in love. This was one of the first classics I read on my own that wasn’t part of assigned reading, so that may have also heightened my enjoyment of the text, but for me, Elizabeth Bennet was the be-all-end-all of literary heroines. In a lot of ways, she still is. She is flawed, but strong. Level-headed and yet somehow headstrong at the same time. She wants love and she wants it on her own terms. She was exactly what my teenaged-self was looking for at the time and continues to be a pretty high standard for my adult self when it comes to literary heroines by comparison. I also enjoyed Austen’s writing-style. The comedy of manners remains as one of my favorite types of books to read and Austen’s wit is a large part of why this book resonated with me.
Arabella: It took me a really, really long time to get into this book. I think some of that had to do with end-of-the-semester burnout, but I also think that Austen’s writing style and I just didn’t (and still don’t, to a large extent) get along. I appreciate her arch observations immensely, but I really didn’t enjoy her technique of stating characters’ opinions as if they were fact, as in the opening line of the book (“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”). I felt it put distance between me and the characters, which made it difficult to really get to know them. I also had a hard time liking Elizabeth…what stood out to me was how much she derided other women in the book, which is something Miss Bingley notes. She cares for Jane, who is very quiet, and Georgiana, who is very quiet, but is very scornful of all the other women around her–which made me think that she wouldn’t like me very much (and since I really appreciated her strength, this made me sad). As we see throughout the book, her kneejerk reactions are often wrong (Wickham, Darcy…), which she sort-of realizes at the end, but not in so thorough a manner as I was hoping to see.
Outside Influences Lady Pole: I went into my first reading fairly uninfluenced, which is rare for me with a classic. I have since read this book numerous times, including during a freshman English class in college with one of my favorite professors, where I learned just how funny Austen could really be (particularly through Mr. Collins’ absurdities) and on a cruise where it was a refreshing change to visit an old favorite after reading about the ill-fated cruise passengers in Kurt Vonnegut’s Galapagos. I know what everyone is probably thinking at this point: what about the BBC adaptation with Colin Firth??? That adaptation made me love Mr. Darcy. I had my trepidations about the character even after Lizzy got her happily ever after with him, but Firth brought a level of tenderness and depth to Mr. Darcy that went previously unnoticed by me in the text. Pride and Prejudice also helped me appreciate the humor of Bridget Jones’s Diary (book and movie, though less so the sequels), which in turn helped me to appreciate re-imaginings of classic texts more.
Arabella: I had seen the BBC adaptation before reading the book, and I think I was looking for the same level of accessibility in the text, which, as I mentioned, I certainly didn’t find. But it did help me understand some of the subtext in the book that I wasn’t getting from Austen’s narrative. The group of historical re-enactors that I worked with also had constant debates over the immortal “Darcy or Rochester” question, which meant I was definitely holding Darcy to a much higher standard than I think I otherwise might have done.
Recent Reflections Lady Pole: I’ve never stopped loving Pride and Prejudice and still return to the text in whole or in part when I need a literary pick-me-up. While I don’t consider myself a Jane-ite, dressing in Regency costume and going to conventions, I’m still (and I think always will be) a huge fan, not just of P&P, but of Austen in general. Pride and Prejudice is one of those books that made a strong emotional impression on me because it was a book that I read at just the right time. I know it isn’t that way for everyone, but even more discerning opinions have never wavered my enthusiasm.
Arabella: I have really come to appreciate over the years what Austen was doing with her writing, and compare her in many ways to Oscar Wilde, at least in terms of her gentle, but unrepentant criticisms of society. And, in that sense, I can appreciate her. But I still haven’t been able to lose myself in her stories (except for Persuasion. I did actually enjoy that one). I still find her writing style too much for me, overall. I also think that, when it comes to “classics”, I tend to enjoy later 19th-century works that challenge and scandalize, rather than tease, which is a matter for another discussion, I think….
"Once you learn to read, you will be forever free." ~Frederick Douglass