Next on my plate....

The Custom of the Country by Edith Wharton. I so loved Ethan Frome that I decided to go back to Wharton for the early holiday season. Originally published in 1913, this is a tale of a mid-western girl trying to make it in New York City society. I'm curious to see what, if any, parallels there are between this story and The Age of Innocence. We shall see...

Something I really must read again...

...if only to truly understand the story and it's many, many elements. I finished James Joyce's The Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (published 1916) last night and it touched me. I enjoyed the story and found the journey of Stephen Dedalus to be compelling. I have heard that this piece is a semi-autobiographical one and that through this story Joyce paints his experiences of becoming a writer. I can certainly believe this.

The part of the novel that I found most engaging was the struggle Dedalus had with his religion. His desire to be accepted, forgiven and ultimately saved was certainly realisitic, and his fall from these desires equally interesting. I think that without this struggle Dedalus would have been a far less intricate character, one that I would not have cared about or for and as a result would not have found this piece to be worth my time.

The imagery used by Joyce is also quite beautiful. His descriptions of heaven and hell and his ability to create a vivid image of a scene is something to which many novelists strive. I think the most striking aspect of his writing is its concise nature. Joyce says a lot with very little. Perhaps this observation is simply a result of my recent experience with the Victorian novel, and the inexperience Victorian novelists have with brevity, but Joyce is able to paint a detailed and visceral image with very few words, a talent I wish more authors possessed.

I will go back and reread this novel in the future, if only to delve deeper into it's imagery, but for now I will be happy to say that I enjoyed my first reading of Joyce and look forward to more.

Stein and Stream of Consciousness?

I finished Gertrude Stein's Tender Buttons several weekends ago. At first I was confused and annoyed by this seeming babble of thought, but soon recognized that there really wasn't a thought present. What I mean to convey is that instead of creating a piece that is connected and sensical in plot, Stein instead creates a masterful poem of sorts, playing more on rhythms and sounds than content. This "novel" is more of a sketch of ideas and images presented not only through words that create a visual in one's mind, but also through language that presents auditory and tactile suggestions. I had to read through the piece several times, aloud, to truly take from it what I believe the author intended, that being an experience rather than a concrete idea.

Originally published in 1914, this exercise in experience is best read aloud by the reader. There were many times when I believe I would not have received what was being offered in the piece had I not read it aloud. It is for this reason that, while at times the work is confusing, I believe it would be an excellent piece of writing to use in a writer's workshop at the late high school or even early college level. Presenting students with a finalized example of poetic prose I believe could produce some excellent musings.

Sons and Lovers....

The first three chapters of this book present a highly wrought relationship between a woman of social standing and her lower class miner husband. Their relationship is fraught with violence and heat. The depth and complexity of the relationship between these two individuals cannot be overstated, she loves him and despises him. He cherishes her and resents her. From this chaos is born three sons and a daughter. At this point in the story it is the eldest son, William, who most cherishes and revers his mother. He stands for her and cannot survive without her. The other two sons are infants, however, even in their early years, their connection to their mother is undeniable. The husband is absent, in fact he is painted as a drunk who cares little for his family, expect when shamed into his feelings. When his second son is born he isn't even present. Instead he arrives home, greets his child briefly and retires to another part of the home. His small efforts at being a family man fail miserably and he seeks solace in his drink which further enrages his wife.

My plan for continuously posting about Sons and Lovers was a bust. I finished this novel weeks ago and really just wanted to say a couple of things about it. I loved this story. For the first time in my life, a depiction of death in a novel actually made me think about my own mortality. I found the relationships in this story to be compelling and thoughtfully presented. I had empathy for each character and grew to love most and dislike others. I would certainly reread this story and suggest to anyone who has not yet picked up this classic, go forth and drink up some D.H. Lawrence! I am remiss to write more, as I've got two more pieces to comment on whilst my Kindle charges.....

My next selection...

Is D.H. Lawrence's Sons and Lovers. Originally published in 1913, this novel is considered Lawrence's earliest masterpiece. This novel tells the tale of Paul Morel, and his struggles to escape the ties of his mother. While I'm only partway into this book, I am already enjoying it. The short amount of research I've done indicates that this may be a partially autobiographical tale and makes me want to know more of D.H. Lawrence and his life. I am specifically curious about his connection to his own mother, simply because of the complex relationships he is already creating between the matriarch of this family and the sons especially.

I'm assuming that this title will take some time to pour through, it is lengthy and is certainly not something that can be glossed through and appreciated. As such I am thinking that with the close of each chapter I may try to post some of my thoughts... I guess we'll see where that takes me.....

A great read...

Sir Max Beerbohm's Seven Men was a joy to read. It presented the reader with an interesting view of what writing does to a writer. Through the stories of these different writers and through his own story, Beerbohm explores the ego of the author and describes the great lengths to which a writer will go to further his career.

I especially enjoyed the tale of Enoch Soames who traded his soul to the devil to catch a glimpse of his own remembrances. The twist in this tale caused me to take pause and recognize with what ease one might live for the future and while doing so forsake the present. Soames left the realm of the living destroyed and dejected despite the efforts of his champion to change his will.

I also liked the tale of trickery that unfolded in Hilary Maltby and Stephen Braxton, that explored the guilty conscious of one of the writers. Beerbohm eloquently explored the effects of the guilty mind on the well-being and health of the human behind that mind.

Beerbohm creates with Seven Men a series of intricate tales of caution, of what to be wary of and of what not to become. With these stories he illustrates how one's passion can indeed overcome one's life, and that without moderation, the self actually becomes lost. His ability to infuse comedy into his writing made Seven Men a quick and easy read that really is a masterpiece. This is certainly a novel to which I will often return.

Next on the menu...

The next book I'll be tackling is Seven Men by Sir Max Beerbohm. This collection of short stories was originally published in Great Britain in 1919 and subsequently in the United States in 1920. The small amount of research I have done about this title indicates that it is a post-modern novel written before its time. That within its pages one finds commentary on the struggles of the 20th century citizen even before those struggles were defined. I am eager to begin this collection...

A sad tale of a poor soul...

Hamsun's Hunger was indeed a sad, sad story. It seemed that at every turn life was conspiring against the protagonist of this story. While starving, this character continues to pursue his literary career, however fails at each attempt. He goes days without food or lodging and is continuously writing, editing, revising, restarting his "article" without ever completing it. Speckled with some small successes, his life is endlessly tortured by the constraints of society and he eventually flees to escape his inability or refusal to become gainfully employed.

This novel is apparently based loosely on the author's own experiences prior to his success as an author. Hamsun does a fine job of painting a vivid image of the decay of the human psyche both as a result of solitude and starvation. He paints a gloomy and depressing picture of a man struggling to keep his integrity to the point of even his own demise.

I enjoyed this novel. I found it to be a far easier read than I intended it to be, and I cared for the protagonist, more than I have cared for other protagonists in similar novels. Hamsun presents us with the inner workings of the mind of an artist. He provides us with a glimpse inside the desires and motivations of the protagonist, and does not censor what we see. It is this honesty that makes Hunger a novel that I will reread in the future, just to continue to peel back the layers of its intricacies.

Forgot to mention... and what's next on the agenda...

I also read Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton since the last major update. By the way, I LOVED Ethan Frome, so heartfelt and tender, smoothly written and honestly I just didn't want to put it down, nor did I want the book to end.

Vanity Fair, on the other hand, which I finished just the other night, was a tedious, long-winded, tirade that simply could have been accomplished in about half as many pages as Thackeray used. I know that, at the time of publishing, this novel was considered a major form of entertainment and thus brevity was certainly not something that Thackeray would have paid attention to, but really, it should not take ten pages to describe a single moment in time. Well, let me rephrase, it should not take ten poorly written and tedious to read pages to describe a single moment in time.

I guess I just didn't care for the subject matter and the dueling story lines became tiresome at times. When I was reading about one of the characters and her troubles, I was thinking about what was happening with the other, and then when I'd get back to that other, I found her storyline to be boring and trite and wanted to get back to the first. I felt split and thus became disinterested in the whole thing. But, I got through it, all eight hundred some odd pages, which thoroughly impressed my first graders. They cannot believe that I read a book of over 800 pages, I'm kind of like a superhero now, a role I'll gladly accept.

Next on the Kindle is Knut Hamsun's Hunger. The beauty of using Bloom's canon to pick my books is that I'd never have stumbled upon some of these titles without his assistance. The Rise of David Levinsky is one example of this phenomenon as is my current encounter with Hamsun. Described as a Norwegian Dostoevsky (a comparison with which I am agreeing) by the scribe of the forward to the edition of Hunger that I am reading, Hamsun lived from 1859-1952.

Hunger was first published in 1890, and Hamsun won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1920. According to the Nobel Prize biographical sketch of Hamsun, he was an individual who rejected society and civilization and focused his writing around the experiences of individuals who were outcasts and vagabonds. He was a Nazi sympathizer and after the end of WWII lost his property and spent his remaining years in poverty, essentially living the life of his character in the novel I am currently reading, Hunger. Hunger is, according to the Nobel Prize site, "regarded as the first genuinely modern novel in Norwegian literature."

I must say after two evenings with this book, I'm enjoying it's imagery and the pace of the story. I am eager to see where this tale goes and each night I have reluctantly put the Kindle down to get some sleep, now I am off to read again!

School has taken over my life...

Thus I've not written lately, but I have still been reading. I've got to check my notes, but I am confident that since I last wrote I have read at least one novel and am nearly finished with another. After Babbitt, I read The Rise of David Levinsky by Abraham Cahan. This was a terrific book about the successes and failures of a German Jewish immigrant to America. The tale itself was well crafted and held my interest. It painted a portrait of a man who through perseverance and tenacity succeeded in life, despite the deck being stacked against him. I enjoyed the book and would recommend it not only as a good story but also as a study of the lives of immigrants to America during the industrial revolution.

I am now nearly finished with William Makepeace Thackeray's Vanity Fair. While this novel has been trying to get through I find it to be entertaining and witty. Originally published in 1848, this novel presents a satirical look at the aristocracy of Victorian London. I will have more to say about his novel by weeks end.

I've also picked up another Kindle and am eager to get back to reading on my e-reader. I love the feel and smell of a paper bound book, but also enjoy the comfort and ease of my e-reader. More later in the week...

Babbitt is finished...

I found Sinclair Lewis' Babbitt to be an interesting portrait of an upper middle class man and his successes, failures, and struggles. I think the most interesting part of this novel was the manner in which Lewis created Babbitt's relationships. His relationships were what fueled the action in the story. From his interactions with his wife and children, to his employees, to the boys at his various clubs, and finally to those people he interacted with to sooth his middle-aged desires, it was through these relationships that the reader was able to travel with Babbitt and discover his insecurities and strengths.

Another aspect of the novel that I enjoyed was Lewis' satirical portrayal of the middle class. The keeping up with the Jones' portrayal of the characters in the story was quite interesting and offers a nice reflection of the society of the time. I find that not much has changed between Babbitt's generation and the generation of today. We still have those individuals who think social standing is far more important than true relationships, and there are also those who enjoy watching the follies of the social climbers.

Babbitt's journey is a typical one, I believe. He grows tired of his day to day existence and wanders off the reservation so to speak. His desire to escape finds him experimenting in areas of society where he really doesn't belong and while he knows this to be the case, he still pursues this destructive path. It is only when tragedy nearly befalls his family that he is able to regain himself and reconnect with what is really important in his life, his family.

I found the conclusion of this novel to be one of hope in that Lewis portrayed Babbitt's reversal in what I think was the most sympathetic manner of the whole book. The passing of the torch from Babbitt to his son was kind and heartfelt and one of the more believable aspect of the story.

Babbitt

So I've picked up Sinclair Lewis' Babbitt as my next choice. Originally published in 1922, this novel presents a satirical look at middle class life in the 1920's. I am curious to see how a contemporary author describes the every day life of American's leading up to the Great Depression. I am equally curious to see if there are any correlations between the images painted of the middle classers of the 20's and the middle classers of today. We shall see...

A trip back home....

I really felt like The Country of the Pointed Firs was just that, a vacation home. Sarah Orne Jewett's descriptive ability drew fantastic images in my mind and made me want to take a trip to Maine for the summer. I could envision the fishermen pulling their lobster traps from their little dories, and sailing through the harbor collecting haddock and the like. I wanted to attend the family reunion and wanted to share time with Mr. Tilley. I really did enjoy this book.

My only complaint is that nothing much happened, which is I guess how a lazy Maine summer vacation should be. There was no plot except that of a woman's experience in a small fishing village throughout one summer. There was no exciting adventure, except those remembrances of old fishermen, and even then we're led to believe that many of those remembrances are simply figments of imagination. What there was in this novel was a fairly surface study of personality both human personality and the personality of a landscape.

I found The Country of the Pointed Firs to be a delightfully calm read, one that did not cause me to ponder too much, but one that brought the fresh sea air to my mind's eye and really took me back to a slow and uneventful Maine summer. I would certainly welcome those fresh crisp evenings, and dewy mornings compared to what we've had here in North Carolina this year. Bring on the warm days and cool nights of a New England summer any day, there's nothing I like better than wearing shorts and a sweater!

Now we travel back to New England...

For my next choice I have decided to take a look at a writer from New England, the area of the country from which I hail. The book is The Country of the Pointed Firs by Sarah Orne Jewett. Jewett was from South Berwick, Maine a small town on the Maine/New Hampshire border. During her time there this area was known as a fishing village, though was in it's decline.

The Country of the Pointed Firs was first published in 1896. I chose this book mostly because of the connection I have with the author. I have, many times, driven past the Sarah Orne Jewett house in South Berwick, Maine and have marveled at it's beauty and simplicity. I also have several friends whose last name is Jewett and when I came across this name in Bloom's canon list, I looked it up to see if perhaps I could add the book to my short list. The New England connection and the fact that I knew the house sealed the deal and I am about half way through the novel as of today. So far it's a terrific read, recalling a simpler time of summer's spent gathering herbs and writing on the Maine seacoast.

My Brilliant Career

A nice diversion from what I've been used to reading. I enjoyed this tale of a self-criticizing young girl and her search for a place in the world. I've really not much to say about this story and am struggling to see why Bloom chose to include it in his canon. While the age of the author is impressive, and it's autobiographical flair is intriguing, I did not find the novel itself to be much of a challenge.

Franklin presents us with a story of a young girl whose misfortune and native curiosity seem to get her into trouble with her parents and siblings. She is unwanted at home and finds herself sent back to a place of her early childhood, a place with fond memories where she flourishes. It is the culture of that childhood home that feeds her ability to evolve into a woman.

What I found most interesting with this novel was the commentary on the importance of the arts in the development of the individual. It seems that those individuals in the novel, that did not have regular discourse with music and literature were painted as dimwitted and useless at even the most mundane tasks. The example I think of here is the M'Swat family, the family the narrator is sent to, to act as a governess for their children. The depiction of the home and the lack of any culture in the home, is directly correlated to the dimwittedness of the adults as well as the children. Franklin also draws a correlation between lack of discipline and the lack of culture in the home. I find this to be a very interesting and quite accurate argument. While people may say that snobbish attachment to culture including fine art, music, literature and drama is not something that produces well disciplined and contributing members of society I, for one disagree. I find that involvement in the arts in general provides a foundation from which any individual can venture into success.

Overall My Brilliant Career was a good read. I especially enjoyed the ending to this book. I found the choices made by the narrator, while not the choices I wanted her to make, were the choices she had to make, in order to remain intellectually and emotionally honest with herself. The vivid descriptions of the landscape of Australia cause the reader to feel as if she is in fact a visitor at any of the stations illustrated in the novel. This ability to vividly describe the setting to the story is another reason I enjoyed this novel. I again am surprised by the depth of understanding and and breadth of emotion put forth by this young author.

And now for something completely different...

Next I've decided to venture out from what I've been reading in the past, mostly American and British literature and look instead at a completely different continent. I've chosen Australia and the novelist Miles Franklin. I have chosen her first novel, My Brilliant Career, originally published in 1901. The novel was written while Franklin was still a teenager and was published when she was just 22. The subject matter closely mimics the lives of her family and friends and apparently caused her much distress when originally published. As a result, she withdrew the novel from publication until after she passed.

I am excited to venture into uncharted, at least by me, territory. Hopefully I will not be disappointed and instead will be encouraged to continue to explore new and exciting avenues from which I can discover literature I may not have otherwise encountered.

A passage to.....

I guess India, but really I didn't much care. While I enjoyed the overall story that Forster presented, I was disappointed with the manner in which the story was told. I was disinterested for the majority of the tale, something I don't remember being when reading other Forster novels. I think this disinterest stemmed from my lack of empathy for the characters in the story. I did not care for the characters and therefore really had no interest in what was happening to them.

I am disappointed that I was unable to connect with this story. I enjoy Forster's style and really wanted to love this book. I had heard many good things about it and the film version was nominated for a best picture Oscar and had won many awards. I have not seen the film, but it is on my Netflix list for this summer.

Please do not misunderstand, there were aspects of this story that I loved, but they had more to do with Forster's style than the substance of the novel. I loved the descriptions he presented throughout the book and at times I felt as though I were watching scenes unfold in my mind's eye, but this only happened during the narrative, not during dialog. Forster's ability to describe a scene is remarkable and I was easily able to picture the caves, the processions, the college, the polo fields, the club, and the various bungalow's we visit throughout this story. I can especially picture the flies at Aziz's bungalow and their constant annoyance.

One quote from the story is worth mentioning and in fact is something I think we should all remember as we travel through life. These words are spoken by the character Mr. Das (the man who presided over Dr. Aziz's trial) to Aziz, after the charges against him are dropped. It is with these words that I will close my commentary on A Passage to India... "excuse my mistakes, realize my limitations."

It's been a little more than a year...

I've managed to bring my total of works of the canon read to 67. That is a far cry from the thousands that I have to get through so I hope to break the 100 mark by the end of the year. Basically that means that this summer is going to be spent reading as much as humanly possible. Certainly more that what I conquered last summer, which was, in it's entirety... Bleak House.

Since the start of this project a little more than a year ago, I've read 21 titles. I'm happy to say that so far, Harold Bloom has not led me astray. Everything I've read has been worth it. I've no complaints. As for what's next...

E.M. Forster's A Passage to India, is the next selection. I fell in love with Forster 's stories after watching the Merchant Ivory production of A Room With a View, and gobbled up that novel at some point during my high school years. Later I picked up Howard's End while a member of a book club back in 2003 or so and enjoyed that piece as well, now I'm onto A Passage to India. First published in 1924 it was hailed as one of the the 100 great works of English literature by Modern Library publishing company, won the James Tait Black Memorial Prize for Literature in 1924, and was included in Time Magazine's 100 best English language novels from 1923 to 2005. All that being said, I'm expecting a good read. So, without further ado... here I go.... (hopefully I'll post again within a week or so... fingers crossed).

I've been terrible I know.....

It's been over two months since my last post and I think I'll pay for it in my commentary on the last three books I've read. So I'll keep at least the first two brief as, while I remember them well, I've not thought about either much recently.

First Wharton's Age of Innocence.... I enjoyed this read. I think what I liked about it most was the fact that the ending was unexpected. It was an enjoyable love story however it did not feel all nicely tied up with a bow at the end as the Victorian novels I've been reading throughout this journey have felt. Interesting writing and more importantly solid character development is what I believe makes Age of Innocence a story which compels the reader to continue on. I am interested to see the Scorsese adaptation from 1993 to see if it holds a candle to the book. With Daniel Day-Lewis as Archer Newland I think that it may well stand a chance. I've not read any critical reviews of the film, but perhaps will give it a go this summer. I would certainly recommend the novel for terrific yet light summer reading.

Next on the agenda was James Fennimore Cooper's The Deerslayer. Published in 1841 it was the last of his Leatherstocking tales and functioned as a prequel to the other tales written. At first this book seemed endless, in fact I think it took me the better part of a month to read it. I was determined to get through it but must admit that it was slow starting and could not even be considered interesting until probably the last quarter of the novel. Cooper certainly captures the American "frontier" as it was at the inception of our nation. The conflict between the white colonists and the Native Americans was aptly depicted and was at times quite disturbing. In the end I was glad that I got through this piece. While long and at times tedious it presented me with an idea of American Literature during the mid 1800's and more importantly provided me with an example of a genre that I was unfamiliar with in the past. I am interested to read more of the Leatherstocking tales simply to explore more of Cooper's writing.

The last book I conquered was George Eliot's Adam Bede. I just finished this book last night and adored it. While it is yet another Victorian novel, and does in fact wrap itself up neatly with a bow at the end (and a marriage of course) I found the twists and turns in this novel to be genuine and not forced. First published in 1859, it was Eliot's first novel. I must note that George Eliot is a pseudonym for Mary Ann Evans a novelist, journalist and translator. She adopted the name George Eliot in order to have her writing taken seriously, and I'm sure, at the time, a male pseudonym provided her with certain liberties that she might not have received had publishers known she was in fact female.

Adam Bede is a terrific novel and has prompted me to want to read more of Eliot's work. She explores religion and the lives of estate tenants in an interesting, endearing and at times provocative manner. In some of the research I've done about this particular novel it is listed a work of historical fiction, and I can see how Adam Bede fits into this genre. One other aspect of the novel that I enjoyed was the voice of the narrator. At times, the narrator speaks directly to the reader, as a confidante, something that I find to be a compelling convention used by the author.

An excellent story, with well developed characters that the reader is almost forced to care for, and plot twists that are intricate and seemingly effortless make this novel a must read for any lover of Victorian literature, and more importantly good stories. I do promise, however I will not be taking on anything written between 1800 and 1900 for the remainder of the summer.

Until the next selection, which will be this evening.....

Next on the menu...

...The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton. First published in 1920, this novel won Wharton the Pulitzer Prize in 1921 (the first Pulitzer for a novel awarded to a woman). It was recently named, by New York Magazine critic Sam Anderson "the single greatest New York novel." While I've never been interested in the sub-genre of the "New York novel" (in fact I didn't know the category existed until I decided to read this book) I'm up for something interesting based in the Big Apple. I wonder if Bushnell's Sex and the City is considered a "New York novel," and even more importantly I wonder what Sam Anderson thinks about it.

Centered around the lives of the upper middle class in New York in the 1870's this novel focuses on Newland Archer and May Welland and their impending marriage. We shall see what happens to this young couple in the pages of Wharton's book. The Age of Innocence, after my brief research, certainly has a lot to live up to.

Perhaps as a staged reading?

I remember where I've encountered Spoon River Anthology before. I was taking a voice class in college, not a singing voice, but rather a speaking voice class. One of the texts we drew monologues from was Spoon River Anthology, and that is certainly why, throughout reading this piece I kept thinking about hearing the eulogies rather than reading them. I do believe that this work would be far better served if one were able to hear the pieces rather than read them, as I think more emotion, humor and hubris would be accessible.

That being said, several sections of the piece truly moved me. Before I delve into those, however I have to acknowledge that I am struggling with what to call this novel? collection of poetry? collection of soliloquies? I really am unsure as to how to categorize Masters' work. There is very little to be said about a through-line in this collection, save of course the proximity of all of the characters to each other, all being from one location. I guess I'll have to settle for collection, I'm just not sure of what Spoon River Anthology is a collection. (I think that last sentence is grammatically incorrect, however by typing it I discovered what the work is... an ANTHOLOGY, yikes I'm getting slow in my middle age)

Onto the sections of the anthology that truly affected me. There is some very beautiful sentiment and verse in this collection and here I offer a smattering of what prompted me to highlight (on the Kindle of course).

"Memorize some bit of verse of truth or beauty. It may serve a turn in your life." This is so true. I recall Masters having a young man recite a bit of poetry to his love whilst they lay looking at the stars, and I agree, having a few appropriate snippets of verse committed to memory has never failed to serve one well. I have a few pieces in my memory and I certainly wish I had more.

"The feeling that I was not worthy of her finished me." This line moved me. It is from Albert Schirding's self eulogy and is just so beautiful. The musings of a man who strove to meet the expectations of his children and simply stated how his failure to do so drove him to his grave. To love someone so much that you simply feel unworthy is a blessing and quite obviously a curse.

This part struck home for me as it is how I feel about my love. "To love is to find your own soul through the soul of the beloved one." I needn't say more as it is so eloquently phrased by Masters.

The Widow McFarlane piece spoke to me as well. She was a weaver (as am I) and spoke of how the loom is a metaphor for life. That as we weave we never see the pattern that we are weaving, as the loom hides it from us. As we travel through life, we never see what is right in front of us as it is veiled by our living. It is only after we have lived that we can look back, take the cloth off of the loom, and either celebrate our travels, or suffer our consequences.

I also found the juxtaposition of religions in Masters' work to be interesting. He mentions Christianity, Hinduism and Judaism, and while he only mentions them each briefly I think it's commendable that he manages to get some of the major world religions into this piece. Well done, I must say.

Finally, "Immortality is not a gift, immortality is an achievement; and only those who strive mighitly shall possess it." This is one that I long to hear read aloud. To imagine the force behind these words is something that is causing me to want to produce a staged reading of this anthology. This gem speaks volumes. Is he referring to reproduction. I've always thought that those who choose to have children are in fact trying to immortalize themselves through their children and their children's children. To strive for immortality mightily may well be something that we can all do, however, one must ask oneself, at what cost.

Spoon River Anthology is a collection I will most likely revisit later in life. Being nearly half way through my existence on this earth I feel that in my twilight years I will find solace and a deeper connection with the musings of these citizens. This book is certainly one that I will remember in twenty or thirty years and look forward to reading through again. Perhaps I will stage it at that point, with more of life's experiences from which to draw.

Next on the agenda....

...Spoon River Anthology, by Edgar Lee Masters. Originally published in 1915 this collection of poems explores the inhabitants of a small town through their own thoughts and reflections. Each poem is written almost like a self-eulogizing account of the speakers life. I'm about a quarter of the way through the collection and am finding most of the pieces to contain maxims upon which one might form a life philosophy.

The format, while not exactly alike, reminds of Sherwood Anderson's Winesburg, Ohio which I read about a year ago. While in Anderson's collection the tales were intertwining and not told by the character him or her self, the collection of short stories (almost) is similar to Masters' collection of poems here. I am curious to see what further gems I will find in this collection. Some are sounding familiar and I'm not quite sure when I've browsed through this book before, but I am sure it will come to me in time.

An excellent commentary on the successes and failures of the human race...

Gulliver's Travels was an extremely well crafted book. Swift broke his novel into four distinct and exciting journeys, each exploring a different subset of humanity through clear and image laden narrative. I enjoyed Swift's internal commentary on contemporary travel novels and appreciated his staying away from describing the sea journeys in too much detail. In fact, his style was one which embraced brevity and still managed to paint a vivid image in the reader's imagination.

Several passages really spoke to me. The Liliputians had an excellent means for governing their people for "whoever can there bring sufficient proof, that he has strictly observed the laws of his country for seventy-three moons, has a claim to certain privileges, according to his quality or condition of life, with a proportionable sum of money out of a fund appropriated for that use." An excellent idea. If you get to a particular age and have not made any offenses against the laws of the land, you ought to be rewarded both in recognition and finance. Swift goes on to indicate that the Liliputians thought it unfortunate to say the least that in English society (as carries over to American society as well) "laws were enforced only by penalties, without any mention of reward." I know one should be intrinsically motivated to do good and to follow established rules and norms, but wouldn't a bit of compensation be motivation to continue to do one's best each and every day? I'm just pondering the thought.

I also found of the explorations of the sciences on the floating island to be very interesting. The attention of these natives to the "how" of things blinded them to the problems at hand. Swift was certainly making a comment on the shortsightedness of humankind when it comes to getting bogged down in the details.

What I appreciated most was his affection for the horses during his final adventure. Gulliver became so in touch with nature and with his natural surroundings that he could hardly bear to return to society as he once knew it. His reverence for this species of horse was touching and it was indeed the one travel that I wished he would not have to conclude. I wanted to know how he might spend his final days with this gentle and kind species. I did however have some issue with his using the Yahoo's for many things that I could hardly stomach. Using the skins of a species to close to one's own for sails and using the tallow to weatherproof a sailing vessel, that just seemed a bit too much to me. But, I suppose Gulliver began to think of himself as an Houyhnhnm at least akin to the Houyhnhnm in his thoughts and actions and therefore took no issue with the treatment of the Yahoos. Perhaps because Gulliver was so drawn into an existence ruled solely by reason he was incapable of treating the Yahoos in any other manner as reason dictates that one should be treated as one acts.

Overall Gulliver's Travels was a great tale, full of social commentary and interesting juxtapositions of ideas. I am eager to read more of Swift, however I am trying yet again to choose something from a century closer to my own.

And the next selection is...

Gulliver's Travels by Jonathan Swift. First published in 1726, the brief research I did into this novel came from Wikipedia which indicates that it is a satirical novel meant to explore human nature through the genre of the traveler's tale popular in the 18th century. Swift was an Irish clergyman who was a writer of satire and essays as well as political pamphlets.

I really don't know very much about this novel despite it's recent adaptation into a film starring Jack Black who I find humorous especially as part of the rock duo Tenacious D. I know that, as a child, I recall bits of a film that reminds me of what I believe the story to be about, but I cannot be sure. I guess I'll just have to read on to find out.

On a side note, it has been nearly a year since I began this journey and I have stayed faithful, almost, to my pledge to read nothing but items from the canon. The only two books I have picked up that are not part of the canon were gifts and I have not completed either title. One of these titles is Tinkers written by Paul Harding, winner of the 2010 Pulitzer Prize. This was a gift from my brother who lives in Georgetown, MA the same locale as Harding. The other is Must You Go by Antonia Fraser, a memoir based on her journals and her life with playwright Harold Pinter, an idol of mine. This was also a gift from my brother. I have only picked up these titles when the Kindle has been occupied and I have had no other access to a canon approved book. So, over the next few weeks I'll be spending some time reflecting on this project and what I have learned so far, and more importantly what I want to change about my chronicles of this adventure. Stay tuned.

Finished with Notes...

I finished up Notes From Underground last night and honestly I just found the whole thing to be an exercise in complaining. It seems that despite the main characters ability to self analyze he just never seemed to solve any problems. The entire novel went from one complaint to the next with little substance in between.

One aspect I found particularly interesting was the references to bugs, insects, beetles etc. Each reference likened a bug to a person whom the narrator found repugnant or a situation that he found unbearable. What I found most interesting is that, to my recollection, he never referred to himself as a bug.

The final scenes of the story, with the narrator unburdening himself to his prostitute where telling. I enjoyed the full circle element of the exploration in self pity. He finally recognized his inability to cope with his day to day existence, however just as soon as he could, he explained away his actions as those of deception and once again began to live in a sort of alter existence, one where all the world had it's issues except for the narrator himself.

Interesting journey through the mind of an individual living in poverty and trying to keep up with the Jones' so to speak. I'm not sure that my next choice of novels will bring me any relief from depression but I am hopeful. I certainly cannot, after Steinbeck and Dostoevsky get much deeper into the mire, that's for sure.

Up next, something a little less depressing?

That was my attempt at a bit of slight of hand. Up next is actually more depression but instead of from the United States, I've chosen a Russian vintage for this bout of moroseness. Notes from Underground, by Fydor Dostoevsky was first published in 1964. I'm nearly through this novel and while depressing I'm finding it to be an interesting exploration of self analysis, at least on the part of the main character. According to the introduction in the Dutton Paperback edition I am reading, Dostoevsky wrote this novel while his wife and brother were dying and while he himself was battling a serious illness. Not to mention he was living in communist Russia, so that must have been a trial in and of itself.

I'll have more to report before too long....

Fantastic...

Grapes of Wrath was a terrific book, depressing, but terrific. I found the union references quite timely considering what is happening in Wisconsin right now, and believe that those who are currently working as union members should understand what individuals experienced during the economic depression depicted in this novel.

An area I found especially interesting was the attitude of the Californians to the "Okies" who moved into their state as migrant workers. I find it interesting that the attitude toward migrants is much the same as it is today. Pay them as little as possible to ensure a strong profit and hold no responsibility to their well being.

The government camp described in the novel is something I am very much interested in learning more about. I am curious if these camps really existed during this time period and if they ran as they are depicted. I see these camps as a sort of commune, less the shared development of some sort of cottage industry that would keep them self-sufficient. I will look into the existence of these camps and hopefully learn more about their role in the salvation of those migrants that moved to California to survive.

I really enjoyed Grapes of Wrath. Tackling the entire book in a little less than two weeks even with a full work load is not something I usually do, but I found that I could not easily put it down. I especially liked how nearly every other chapter painted a picture of the every day Americans the Joad family may have encountered on their journey west. Steinbeck created strident images of these individuals and did so with honesty and empathy. I believe these people really did exist and probably still do. These interludes also propelled me to read on to find out what trauma would next affront the family.

All that being said, I have to find a book to read that isn't so depressing. I am still mulling over the final scenes of Grapes of Wrath with discomfort, which was probably Steinbeck's intention. I can't get the image of the family huddled in the barn clinging to a shred of hope out of my mind, not to mention the smile that spread across Rose of Sharon's face as she nursed a full grown man. Steinbeck's ability to paint a picture is fantastic and those images are still (unfortunately) burned into my mind.

While I am looking for a more upbeat, less sullen novel, I will tackle some Dostoeevsky. While I am fully aware that I will not escape a depression with Notes from Underground, it is at least short and will give me an opportunity to regroup and find a book that will lift my spirits.

Jane Eyre is finished.... and the next choice is.....

I loved this book. What a beautiful romantic novel. Bronte can really write and unlike Austen there were aspects of this book that surprised me. I really loved the journey that Bronte took me on through the eyes of Eyre. I empathized with Eyre throughout and truly cared for her. I also loved that she finally found a family who loved and cared for you.

Mr. Rochester was fantastic. The character was so well developed and I could recognize the characteristics that caused Eyre to fall in love with him. He is not the typical romantic lead, he lacked manners and looks, but he was full of playfulness and kindness and while these characteristics were certainly displayed in his own nuance, he was an individual I would have like to have known.

This is by far my favorite novel, written by a woman, during this time period. I am eager to read more of the Bronte sisters, however I will be taking a break from Victorian literature and am moving into a more modern vein.

I started Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath last Thursday and am thus far enjoying it. Originally published in 1939, The Grapes of Wrath won the Pulitzer in 1940 and the Nobel in 1962. I am interested in exploring this novel because we are living through economic times similar to those that existed when Steinbeck first penned his masterpiece. I am also curious to see Steinbeck's take on the organization of labor and the force that resulted from individuals working together through collective bargaining, this is another hot button issue in today's society.

As usual I've been remiss...

Well I finished Emma and was pleased with the book overall. I found, as with all other literature from the same time period, that segments could have been conveyed in a much less verbose manner. I liked the depiction of the title character as one who was snobbish to a fault, at least that is my interpretation of her. She seemed so judgmental and could not take being judged herself. I did not, I am proud to say, fall for the idea that she would end up with Frank Churchill, and was, I admit pleased with the ruse he and Jane Fairfax put forth to conceal their engagement.

I was happy for Harriet Smith when she finally found her love. She was Emma's puppet throughout and I really disliked Emma for her manipulations as they cost Harriet much. Just think of the time wasted in Harriet's relationship with Mr. Martin solely as a result of Emma's meddling. I felt at times, especially as I continued to see Harriet led by Emma, sad and angry and wanted to shout, "seriously Emma, take up knitting or something, just leave poor Harriet alone!"

I loved how Mr. George Knightly finally professed his love for Emma, I suspected it from about half way through the novel and I really found his character to be sweet and romantic. I especially like how his reason and prudence act as a foil to Emma's lack thereof.

Overall a pleasant novel. I am now working on Jane Eyre, the Charlotte Bronte classic. Published first in 1847, about 50 years after Austen's Emma I'm liking the differences between the main characters. I also like that while Emma was told from an unnamed narrator, Jane Eyre is told by Jane herself. I like knowing her thoughts as they unfold, in her own words; something I didn't feel I got with Emma.

I am reading the version of Jane Eyre that is free on my Kindle, and unfortunately my husband is also working on several books housed on the Kindle, so my ability to read has been truncated as he is forever attached to the darn thing. I have plans to purchase another soon, perhaps with tutoring money, we shall see. One may remember that the Kindle was originally a gift from my husband to help me progress with my canon project, but alas, he as also found the joy of this neat device and is, shall we say, hogging it for now.

Until next time...