Review: Invitation to the Waltz, by Rosamond Lehmann

Pages: 304

Original date of publication: 1931

My edition:

Why I decided to read: I found this while looking on ebay for Virago Modern Classics

How I acquired my copy: bought secondhand on ebay

Invitation to the Waltz is one of those coming-of-age-stories. Unlike, for example, The Crowded Street, which focuses on a young woman’s entire coming-of-age experience, Invitation to the Waltz focuses on just one moment in seventeen-year-old Olivia Curtis’s life: a coming-out ball, the seminal moment in the life of any girl of the period (approximately the 1920s). Olivia is neither the most beautiful nor the most vivacious girl at the party, and she’s apprehensive about the evening and all it entails. This is not one of those “high action” books, but it gives a lot of insight into the thoughts and feelings of a girl making the leap into adulthood.

I think if I had read this book ten years ago, I would have completely identified with Olivia—she’s shy and retiring, and unsure of herself. Her dress is all wrong, she has no dance partners, and at one point in the evening she ends up with a smear of dust all over her face from leaning against a statue. Olivia experiences a large amount of anxiety over the evening, but there’s a dash of hope there as well. Olivia teenage plight is even rather touching at times, but Lehmann writes with humor as well. Since this novel takes place over the course of a single day and evening, there’s obviously not a lot of character development, but Rosamond Lehmann is skilled at getting into the head of her protagonist.

And yet Lehmann’s style of writing is a bit confusing; I found myself getting lost at several points while reading this novel. There are lots of short, choppy sentences that I had to read several times in order to funny understand. In essence, therefore, this isn’t a particularly easy book to read. Still, I love her descriptions, her characters, and the way that the tone of this novel made me feel: nostalgic. I look forward to reading the follow-up to this book, The Weather in the Streets (a novel about Olivia, ten years on).

Review: Child of the Morning, by Pauline Gedge

Pages: 403

Original date of publication: 1977

My edition: 2010 (Chicago Review Press)

Why I decided to read: recommended to me on Amazon.com

How I acquired my copy: review copy from the publisher, June 2010

I don’t read much historical fiction set in ancient Egypt. I read Judith Tarr’s Pillar of Fire (about Amunhotep); and another one whose name is escaping me at the moment; and Michelle Moran’s books about Nefertiti and Nefertari; but this is the first novel I’ve read about Hatshepsut, Egypt’s female Pharaoh. She ruled Egypt for twenty years, despite the various troubles she faced during her reign—including the threat from her nephew, Tuthmoses III, who later attempted to erase Hatshepsut’s name from the temples and monuments she erected during her lifetime. Nonetheless, Hatshepsut had a long, illustrious career as Pharaoh, not the least of which is because she was assisted by a strong group of advisors.

The novel focuses on the earlier part of Hatshepsut’s life, beginning at around the age of ten, when her sister dies and Tuthmoses I decides that Hatshepsut will follow in his footsteps. Gedge brings Hatshepsut the woman to life in this novel, merging fiction with fact. Her description of the various military campaigns lost me a little bit, but other that that, I found this to be a really well-written piece of fiction. Hatshepsut was a strong, tenacious woman, as seen in the way that she held on to her crown, even as her nephew attempted to take it from her. Gedge’s descriptions of ancient Egypt are evocative of the time and place. I don’t know much about ancient Egypt, but I’ve heard that Gedge was renowned for accuracy in her research. This novel is a slow one to read, but well wroth it. I’ll be on the lookout for more books by Pauline Gedge.

The Sunday Salon

Man, has it been hot out recently! But the sunshine has been amazing—I spent a part of yesterday afternoon sitting out on my library’s front porch reading Unnatural Death, by Dorothy Sayers—a read inspired by two books I’ve read in the past week—Susan Hill mentions Sayers’s The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club in Howards End is on the Landing, and a character in Stella Gibbons’s Nightingale Wood is eager to getting back to read “the latest Dorothy Sayers.” So, since I’m now reading Sayers’s Lord Peter Wimsey series in order of publication, Unnatural Death is the one that I pulled off the TBR shelf to read.

Also read this week were Mrs. Tim of the Regiment and Love's Shadow, by Ada Leverson, both Bloomsbuy Group reprints. Loved the DE Stevenson, the Ada Leverson not so much. The Bloomsbury Group covers are spectacular, which is why I preordered the four new ones that are coming out in July: Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris, by Paul Gallico (I’ve read the first but not the second); Mrs. Ames, by EF Benson; Let’s Kill Uncle, by Rohan O’Grady (it seems a bit out of my comfort zone, but it sounds good); and Henrietta Sees It Through, the follow-up to Henrietta’s War (which I bought at the same time as the other four). I also received a few Virago Modern Classics in the mail this week. I foresee a lot of great reading coming up ahead.!

So what have you been reading lately?

Review: The Crowded Street, by Winifred Holtby

Pages: 307

Original date of publication: 1924

My edition: 2008 (Persephone)

Why I decided to read:

How I acquired my copy: Persephone subscription, April 2010

The Crowded Street is the story of a Muriel Hammond, a young girl—and then woman—who seems destined right from the start of the novel to be a spinster. At the age of eleven, she commits a major social faux pas—and her career in a marriage market that considers a woman a spinster by the age of 25 seems to go downhill from there. Although this is a social commentary about the plight of young unmarried (and married) women in early 20^th century England, this is also a novel about one young woman’s coming of age as she struggles with her own sense of value in the world.

The novel has a very strong message, but it’s very subtly worked into the plot of the book. Right from the beginning, it’s impressed upon these young women that they must make themselves attractive to the opposite sex, and to wait for a husband to come along. Everywhere around Muriel, young women of her age are rushing to get married, often not caring to whom. Holtby’s message about the (sometimes desperate) rush to get married sees its extremes in the case of Muriel’s sister Connie, who at first tries to make a life for herself but ends up getting pregnant and forced into a marriage she doesn’t want.

Muriel is a very shy young woman, insecure in many ways, and I think she tries to hide that under a façade. She’s always using excuses for not marrying or going off on her own, namely that her mother needs her—when it’s very clear to everyone that her mother is just fine on her own. So it’s interesting for the reader to see what happens to Muriel—will she have the courage to forge off on her own, or will she be tied to her mother forever? This is a lesser-known classic, but one well worth bringing back into print. I’m now on the lookout for more of her books; Anderby Wold and South Riding have been reprinted by Virago.

This is Persephone no. 76. Endpaper below:

Review: The Brothers of Gwynedd II: Dragon at Noonday, by Edith Pargeter

Pages: 137

Original date of publication: 1974

My edition: 2010 (Sourcebooks)

Why I decided to read: it had been recommended to me a long time ago

How I acquired my copy: review copy from the publisher

I’m sorry this isn’t a real review: a revised version of this review appears here for the first part of the quartet, Sunrise in the West. But my feelings for the book after having read part II haven’t really changed, and there’s not much more I can say about a book I generally dislike.

Dragon at Noonday is the second book in the quartet. All four books are included in one volume, but they can be read separately—as they should be, because this is one of those books that you have to read in baby steps., whether you love it or no. This book is still very slow-going, There are a lot of descriptive passages in this book, and a lot of historical details; but Pargeter’s prose style is very, very dense—I’d find myself reading a few pages, putting the book down, and picking it up again after I’d gone to read something else. It definitely didn’t grab my attention enough that I wanted to keep on reading, which is never a good thing. When I read a book, I want it to transport me to a different place, and this novel didn’t quite do it for me. I felt as though at times I was reading a recitation of facts, not a piece of fiction.

One of my problems is with the narrator, who’s not actually present while a lot of this novel takes place, so there’s a lot of “he told me this…” and “I heard that…” The dialogue is still very stilted, and it was very hard for me to become attached to any of the characters—even after reading about them through two volumes of this story! However, I’m finding the place names fascinating—I live in an area in Pennsylvania where a lot of Welsh people settled, and the place names around here are indicative of that (the township I live in was named after Radnorshire in Wales). I’m really hoping the book gets better than this; but as I’ve been warned, this book so far is sort of like watching paint dry.

Teaser Tuesdays

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:

Grab your current read

Open to a random page

Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page

BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)

Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!

“The chemist’s son thought the whole affair a sinful waste of money and time. Why had he been fool enough to go?”

--From Nightingale Wood, by Stella Gibbons

Mailbox Monday--my first!

Mailbox Monday is the gathering place for readers to share the books that came into their house last week. Warning: Mailbox Monday can lead to envy, toppling TBR piles and humongous wish lists.

This week a few new books came into my house:

--I Capture the Castle, by Dodie Smith (I think it’s time I read it, and buying the book is one more step towards achieving that goal. This is a Virago, but sadly not a green edition.

--The Enchanted April, by Elizabeth Von Arnim. This IS a green Virago, and I’ve heard good things about it.

--The Gentlewomen, by Laura Talbot. Another Virago that I’m excited about.

--Every Eye, by Isobel English. Another book from my Persephone subscription. I always get a thrill every month when I see the Persephone logo on the stamp on the envelope!

Review: Frost in May, by Antonia White

Pages: 224

Original date of publication: 1933

My edition: 1990 (Virago)

Why I decided to read: Verity’s Virago Venture

How I acquired my copy: ebay seller

Frost in May is the first Virago Modern Classic that was ever reprinted. It follows the four-year school career of Nanda (short for Fernanda) March, a girl both meek and rebellious at the same time. She enters the Convent of the Five Wounds at the age of nine (and, according to the blurb on the back of the book, in 1908), staying there until her ignominious disgrace at the age of thirteen. Nanda becomes very familiar with life at the convent school, taking for granted most of what goes on.

A good deal of the novel deals with the breaking down of the girls’ wills, so that, as the nuns claim, they can build character. But does this method really work? This, I think, is an underlying theme of the book, and one that White writes about particularly well. The author talks endlessly about all the rules that are imposed upon the girls at school, governing everything from what they can read to who they can be friends with. And many of the rules make no sense to outsiders; as Mrs. March says about exemptions, “exemption from what?” So there’s a certain amount of underhanded satire at work here.

I didn’t like this book as much as I was prepared to, but I did enjoy it. Antonia White was a great writer, but she infuses her story with too much Catholicism. That’s not to say that the tone of this book is overtly religious; I simply didn’t care for the stories that were told. They especially slowed down the plot. So if you’re like ma and aren’t particularly religious, you might dislike these parts of the novel. I think I might have enjoyed them more if I'd had a Catholic upbringing.

However, White depicts really well the rigidity of convent life, highlighting (and sometimes making fun of) the nonsensical strictures the nuns imposed upon the students. Apart from the religious bits, the plot moves along very well, and the ending is just as devastating as promised—all the more so because what Nanda does wouldn’t have been considered so bad in a normal school.

The Sunday Salon

Oh, my goodness, what an exciting week this has been for me! I mentioned last week that I was sprucing up my resume for an in-house job that had become available. On Monday I had the interview; and that afternoon the HR manager called me to offer me the job! I’m really excited about this opportunity, as in the long term it’ll give me opportunities for growth. I do like the job I currently have, but it involves a lot of repetition and I don’t see how it’ll ultimately help with my career goals. My new job, which I officially start on July 12^th, will involve a longer commute, but in the end I think it’ll be worth it. I like the people I’m going to be working with and I believe I’m going to like my job.

This week the publicist at Sourcebooks who was running the Summer Book Club for the Brothers of Gwynedd Quartet wrote to say that she’s cancelling the book club. I have t say that for the most part I’m relieved; I haven’t loved the two parts of the Quartet I’ve read, and I really wasn’t looking forward to having the book hanging over my head all summer. I think that this summer will be a great chance to make a dent in my TBR pile (aka mountain) and read the books I really want to read. Summer should be about pleasure reading, and that’s what I plan to do this season.

I’ve done quite a lot of reading this week (what I’ve discovered is that my commute to my new job will involve a lot more travel time, hence the opportunity to do more reading). Here’s what I read this week:

The Transformation of Bartholomew Fortuno. An ARC I received through Amazon Vine, which I didn’t unfortunately love.

The Brothers of Gwynedd Quartet Book II, by Edith Pargeter. I finished the book, although I didn’t have to. I’ll be posting a review of this sometime this week.

The King’s General, by Daphne Du Maurier. Everytime I read one of Du Maurier’s books, I just want to go out and buy all of her books that are in print that I haven’t read. This one, set during the English Civil War, has some trademark Du Maurier-isms and is quite good.

Good Evening Mrs. Craven: The Wartime Stories of Mollie Panter-Downes. A collection of 21 short stories that were published in The New Yorker during the war. I don’t usually read short stories, but this collection is superb.

I’m now reading Mrs. Tim of the Regiment, a novel told in diary format by DE Stevenson, the author of Miss Buncle’s Book. They say that fans of Stevenson’s are called DESsies, and I think I may be one of them now! Mrs. Tim is wonderful and it’s led me to track down a used copy of another of her novels, Amberwell, on ebay. Someone really needs to reprint more of her books, because used copies of some of them are going for some outrageous prices.

Review: Airs Above the Ground, by Mary Stewart

Pages: 373

Original date of publication: 1965

My edition: 2004 (Harper Torch)

Why I decided to read: I was in the mood to read more Mary Stewart

How I acquired my copy: Amazon.com, April 2010

When Vanessa March is offered the chance to chaperone a teenage boy to Vienna, she nearly says no—until she sees her husband in a newsreel, filmed at the scene of a circus fire near Vienna. In addition, he's in the company of a very pretty blonde... Vanessa's travels to Vienna lead her in the way of the Spanish Riding School, circuses, and a mystery that brings mystery—as well as, of course, a touch of romance.

This is one of Stewart’s less romantic novels, mostly because the heroine is already married to the hero and you more or less know that they’ll end up together. There’s also a bit less suspense, though there’s a chase scene up on the battlements of the castle that’s written in classic Mary Stewart style. The mystery itself also isn’t all that compelling, as it’s been done many times before.

What I do love about Mary Stewart’s novels is the locations she chooses to set her novels in—and she does a pretty fine job of researching her settings, too. This book makes me want to book a flight to Vienna ASAP! Her descriptions of the “airs above the ground” are excellent, too. (Vanessa is a former veterinarian, so her interest in the horses of the story stems from that). The characters are all very well formed, though I thought that Tim was a little too mature for a seventeen-year-old! Nonetheless, this novel is a lot of fun—though if you’re new to Mary Stewart’s novels, I’d suggest starting with one of her others (Nine coaches Waiting and Madam, Will You Talk? come highly recommended by me).

Review: How Did You Get This Number, by Sloane Crosley

Pages: 271

Original date of publication: 2010

My copy: 2010 (Riverhead Books)

Why I decided to read: two years ago I greatly enjoyed her other collection of essays

How I acquired my copy: review copy from the publisher, May 2010

How Did You Get This Number (apparently, no question mark in that title) is a collection of nine essays, ranging in topic. In the opening essay, Crosley takes an impromptu, off-season jaunt to Portugal for no apparent reason, and meets a troupe of clown college students; later, she discusses the relative merits and demerits of Alaska, when she attends a friend’s wedding in “Light Pollution;” and later still she discusses getting thrown out of Paris (“I do not think you should come to this place again”), and having a dealer of furniture who will get you things “Off the Back of a Truck.”

These essays are always witty and sometimes funny. There’s no real connection between any of them, but Crosley has a way with words that is often poignant and rings true. Sometimes her ramblings don’t make total sense, but I found myself laughing out loud numerous times while reading these essays. Crosley always manages to remain pragmatic about her experiences, even as she dates a guy who turns out to be no good, or accidentally breaks into a stranger’s courtyard in Paris, or shopping for roommates on Craigslist (been there, done that!). Embarrassing experiences like these are prime fodder for Crosley’s self-deprecating style, and she can even be philosophical about childhood games like Girl Talk (a game from my own adolescence I remember very well...). What I like about Crosley’s essays is that her experiences are so relatable.

There are some weak essays in the book (the two subjects of the last one in particular don’t seem to go together, and I didn’t quite “get” the one about taxis. In all, however, this is a very strong collection of essays, and a great follow-up to I Was Told There’d Be Cake. Definitely worth reading if you’re looking for a humorous memoir where the author doesn’t take herself too seriously.

The Sunday Salon

Happy Sunday! I’ve had a rather eventful (for me) weekend: I went to the mall to return a couple of shirts and a skirt that’s just waaay too short for me. Later I coerced my mom into going to get pedicures, and then some grocery shopping.. Today was more laid-back, but I did do a lot of reading this morning and polished up my resume for a job interview tomorrow (same company, different position and in a different location). It’s a good job, but the commute if I get the job will be longer.

My reading this week has been about average. Over the past two weeks, I read my first two Virago Modern Classics: Frost in May and Invitation to the Walt, neither of which I totally loved but were good. I also read The Crowded Street by Winifred Holtby, Child of the Morning, by Pauline Gedge, and Dracula, by Love, by Syrie James—much better than I expected it to be.

I’m currently reading two books: I’m limping through the second book in the Brothers of Gwynedd quartet, and I have to say that I’m not favorably impressed. With further reading, it doesn’t get much better. I’m also reading The Transformation of Bartholomew Fortuno, a novel set around Barnum’s Museum of Curiosities in 1865. The premise is interesting, but the book so far is failing to grab me. I don’t know, maybe I’m having a reading slump… nothing seems appealing right now.

Review: The Reckoning, by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

Pages: 486

Original date of publication: 1993

My edition: 2007 (Sphere)

Why I decided to read: I was in the mood for more of the Morland Dynasty

How I acquired my copy: Amazon.com, September 2009

#15: 1816-1820; covers the post-war depression

The Reckoning takes up where The Campaigners left off. In the aftermath of the war, England experiences a postwar slump, and riots threaten to break out all over the country. Meanwhile, Sophie and Rosamund are thrust back into the social life of Manchester and, inevitably, the marriage market; Rosamund is all set to marry her cousin Marcus, while Sophie forms a friendship with Jasper Hobsbawm (the more I read this series, the more I like him, actually). But a couple of tragedies strike the Morland family, one of which threatens to destroy the family’s reputation….

This is another strong addition to the series, with the emotions and thoughts of the Morlands taking front stage. James and Heloise’s story takes the back seat in favor of the younger generation, paving the way for followers of the series to become attached to these newer characters. Of these, my favorite is Sophie, who always seemed a great deal more intelligent than Rosamund. The historical bits of the book are not as front and center as it is in other books, but this in no way detracted from my enjoyment of the book. I’m not quite sure that I understand why Rosamund’s feelings for Marcus changed so quickly before she married him, but other than that, this is a really great addition to the series—rather soap opera-ish at times, but a lot of fun nonetheless.

More books from the Bloomsbury Group!

The Bloomsbury Group will be reprinting a few more titles this summer. I was delighted to find that Mrs. ‘Arris Goes to Paris will be one of the books (though they’ve altered the title somewhat and included Mrs. ‘Arris Goes to New York). My review can be found here. The description:

Mrs Harris is a salt-of-the-earth London charlady who cheerfully cleans the houses of the rich. One day, when tidying Lady Dant's wardrobe, she comes across the most beautiful thing she has ever seen in her life - a Dior dress. In all the years of her drab and humble existence, she's never seen anything as magical as the dress before her and she's never wanted anything as much before. Determined to make her dream come true, Mrs Harris scrimps, saves and slaves away until one day, after three long, uncomplaining years, she finally has enough money to go to Paris. When she arrives at the House of Dior, Mrs Harris has little idea of how her life is about to be turned upside down and how many other lives she will transform forever. Always kind, always cheery and always winsome, the indomitable Mrs Harris takes Paris by storm and learns one of life's greatest lessons along the way. This treasure from the 1950s introduces the irrepressible Mrs Harris, part charlady, part fairy-godmother, whose adventures take her from her humble London roots to the heights of glamour.

Here are some of the others, which I’ve never heard of but sound interesting:

Let’s Kill Uncle, by Rohan o’Grady

“When recently-orphaned Barnaby Gaunt is sent to stay with his uncle on a beautiful remote island off the coast of Canada, he is all set to have the perfect summer holiday. Except for one small problem: his uncle is trying to kill him. Heir to a ten-million-dollar fortune, Barnaby tries to tell everyone and anyone that his uncle is after his inheritance, but no one will believe him. That is, until he tells the only other child on the island, Christie, who concludes that there is only one way to stop his demonic uncle: Barnaby will just have to kill him first. With the unexpected help of One-Ear, the aged cougar who has tormented the island for years, Christie and Barnaby hatch a fool-proof plan. Playful, dark and witty, "Let's Kill Uncle" is a surprising tale of two ordinary children who conspire to execute an extraordinary murder - and get away with it.”

Mrs. Ames, by EF Benson

“Reigning over a social merry-go-round of dinners and parties, Mrs Ames is the undisputed queen bee of Riseborough. That is, until vivacious new villager Mrs Evans catches the eye of both her son and her husband. Not content with captivating the men in her life, 'that wonderful creature' Mrs Evans becomes not just rival to Mrs Ames' marriage, but rival to her village throne. When the whole of Riseborough is invited to Mrs Evans' masked costume party, action must be taken. As the date looms, the irrepressible Mrs Ames resolves to seize the chance to win back her position, and thus, her man.”

Henrietta Sees It Through: More news From the Home Front, by Joyce Dennys

“The war is now in its third year and although nothing can dent the unwavering patriotism of Henrietta and her friends, everyone in the Devonshire village has their anxious moments. Henrietta takes up weeding and plays the triangle in the local orchestra to take her mind off things; the indomitable Lady B, now in her late seventies, partakes in endless fund-raising events to distract herself from thoughts of life without elastic; and, Faith, the village flirt, finds herself amongst the charming company of the American GIs. With the war nearing its end, hope seems to lie just around the corner and as this spirited community muddle through, Lady B vows to make their friendships outlast the hardship that brought them together.”

Review: Legacy, by Susan Kay

Pages: 647

Original date of publication: 1985

My edition: 1987 (Avon)

Why I decided to read: heard about it through HFO

How I acquired my copy: Amazon.com, April 2010

Legacy is the fictional story of one of England greatest queens—Elizabeth I, who reigned from 1558 until her death in 1603. It was during her reign that England achieved a certain amount of political stability and created a sense of national identity in the English people. Her relationship with Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, was highly debated, and it’s the focus of part of the plot of this novel. Elizabeth’s relationship with William Cecil is also central to the plot.

I haven’t read many novels about the life of Elizabeth I (Jean Plaidy wrote one called Queen of this Realm that I wasn’t so keen on because she focused more the legend, not the actual person), but this is easily the best. Susan Kay gets into the head and heart of Elizabeth, who’s a very difficult person to write fiction about, I think—probably because so much is known about her life that there’s not much room for invention. And it’s hard for an author to present these well-known facts about Elizabeth’s life in a new, exciting way. I actually felt, for example, the tension that Elizabeth felt while imprisoned in the Tower, not knowing what would happen to her. It’s also pretty ambitious for an author to tackle Elizabeth’s entire life (actually, starting with Henry VIII’s break from Rome so that her could marry her mother, Anne Boleyn), but Kay does it in an admirable way.

Susan Kay does play around a bit with the history in this novel, however, especially with regards to what happened to Robert Dudley’s wife, Amy. But the author gives her reader great insight into Elizabeth’s thoughts and feelings in a believable, real way. I think that history has put Elizabeth on a bit of a pedestal in terms of what she accomplished during her reign, but Kay turns her into a real, fallible person in this novel, easily likeable despite her faults and mistakes. The author glossed over the fact that Elizabeth was a patron of the arts in real life; she was even a published author herself. But since this book has a lot of ground to cover, it’s understandable that some things would be missed. Overall, this is an excellent novel about the life of Elizabeth I. Sourcebooks is coming out with a reprint of this next month, and it's good that this book will be enjoyed by a new generation of readers.

Teaser Tuesdays

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:

Grab your current read

Open to a random page

Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page

BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)

Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!

“I went to the window, where I stood gazing out at the trees and landscaped grouns below in ilence, quite upset with myself; for I had not wished to cause him any distress. At length, he called me back.”

--From Dracula, My Love, by Syrie James

Review: No Angel, by Penny Vincenzi

Pages: 724

Original date of publication: 2000

My edition: 2006 (Headline)

Why I decided to read: came across this book browsing in a bookshop in 2000

How I acquired my copy: Waterstones, Piccadilly, London, September 2009

No Angel is the first in a trilogy about Lytton’s publishing house, especially Celia, a young girl who marries into the family in 1905 by getting herself pregnant. This particular book covers the Edwardian period up until the 1920s.

It’s a great story, with some great characters, not the least of which is Celia herself. She’s not the most likeable character; indeed, sometimes I found myself wishing she wasn’t so headstrong, so spoiled, so determined to get what she wants no matter what. But you also have to admire a woman like Celia, despite her faults. The author’s descriptions of the publishing industry are very detailed, though I thought at times that she was describing the modern publishing industry rather than that of the 1920s.

The plot moves swiftly; therefore, this book is an incredibly readable one. The author is very fond of the “in the nick of time” school of writing—for example, Celia and Oliver are just about to go on a voyage on the Titanic, and one of the children gets sick… and then nobody tells Celia about it, until the son does, on the eve of departure. I understand the motive behind writing like this, but after several instances of this, I got a bit tired of it.

There are also a few moments where I just didn’t believe it. For example, right out of the blue, Celia decides to up and join Maud Pember Reeves’s Fabian Society. Her efforts lead her to the random adoption of Barty, a young girl who quickly becomes a part of the Lytton family. I just didn’t buy the whole thing, especially since the Miller family seemed very stereotypical and their home a very cleaned-up version of the real thing. And I just didn’t like the relationship between LM and her working-class lover, something that probably wouldn’t have happened in real life. Despite the things I didn’t like about this book, however, I actually did enjoy reading this book. It’s rather soap opera-ish in many places, but it’s an easy read.

Review: Shadow Princess, by Indu Sundaresan

Pages: 333

Original date of publication: 2010

My edition: 2010 (Atria)

Why I decided to read: it was offered through the Amazon Vine program

How I acquired my copy: ditto

Shadow Princess is the story of the building of the Taj Mahal in the early 17^th century. When Shah Jahan’s wife, Mumtaz Mahal, dies in childbirth, he retreats from the world, building a lavish temple in his wife’s honor. The story centers primarily on Shah Jahan’s eldest daughter, Jahanara, who becomes a strong player in the struggle between Jahan’s sons for control of the Mughal throne.

It’s an interesting premise, an interesting story, and interesting setting—but I’m afraid that this book simply failed to capture my imagination in the way I wanted it to. I love stories about strong, prowerful women, but I thought that Jahanara was way too perfect at times, and I thought that her brothers and sister were much more believable as people. As a result, I felt that Jahanara’s character was a bit wooden at times.

Another problem I had was with the way the author told this story. She keeps jumping back and forth in time, narrating bits and pieces of the mughal history leading up to the building of the Taj Mahal, including Shah Jahan’s struggle to gain the throne for himself. It would have been a much more interesting story if the author has chosen to narrate the story that way, rather than merely reciting a bunch of facts and dates. As a result, I felt that the book was very dry at times. I felt that a story of this caliber could have been made into a much longer book (I realized while writing this that this is in fact one in a series of books, but my interest wasn’t piqued enough to read all of them). There’s a lot of great period detail here, but I’m afraid that it failed to really keep me interested the whole way through.

Booking Through Thursday: Short Stories

Which do you prefer? Short stories? Or full-length novels?

Far and away, I read novels more than short stories—though I’ve got a few collections on my shelves (two are Persephones—Dimanche and Other Stories, and Good Evening Mrs. Craven: the Wartime Stories of Mollie Panter-Downes. And there are a few stories that I’ve read that have stayed with me for a long time ("The Lottery" by Shirley Jackson and "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?" by Joyce Carol Oates are standouts in my mind).

However, I think the reason why I read novels more, and why a lot of people choose to do so, is that there’s a lot more room in novels (and even novellas) for character development.

This is actually an apropos question to ask this week, as I’ve been reading another Persephone, a full-length novel called The Crowded Street. While the novel is about spinsters and their place in society, there’s a scene where the main character, Muriel, is having a discussion with another about short stories. Here’s the exchange they have:

Martin Elliott: “Don’t you think about the books in most circulating libraries that they are nearly all the wrong way round. Short stories with happy endings and long stories with sad ones. Quite wrong.”

Muriel: “Why that?”

Martin Elliott: “Ah, surely, the short story should end with tragedy, for only sorrow swoops upon you with a sudden blow. But happiness is built up from long years of small delightful things. You can’t put them into a short story.” (p. 115)

Review: Flapper, by Joshua Zeitz

Pages: 338 (with indices)

Original date of publication: 2006

My edition: 2006 (Three Rivers Press)

Why I decided to read: read and reviewed by another blogger; can’t remember who!

How I acquired my copy: Borders gift card from a Secret Santa exchange at work, January 2010

The subtitle of this book is A Madcap Story of Sex, Style, Celebrity, and the Women Who Made America Modern. This book, a social and cultural history of the iconic flapper, is indeed just that. It explores the authors, actresses, illustrators, magazine columnists, advertising executives, and newspaper columnists that defined the flapper of the 1920s, a girl who “was always a caricature—one part fiction one part reality, with a splash of melodrama for good measure…she was a broad and sometimes overdrawn social category” (p. 123).

This is a highly readable and compelling work of nonfiction, and a broad introduction to the period. The author covers everything—literally, everything—to give his readers a broad picture of the period and what made the flapper who she was—more of an image that women aspired to than anything else. Zeitz discusses several of the people who helped define the flapper image, among them F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, whose antics were famous throughout America and Europe; the actresses Colleen Moore, Clara Bow, and Louise Brooks; and Coco Chanel, famous for setting trends and inventing the little black dress.

There are lots of really interesting bits about the rise of advertising as a major business and women’s fashion not just in the early 20^th century but the 19^th as well. I also was interested in what early feminists and suffragettes thought of the flapper—not what I would have thought! This book is well researched, and seems a little bit gossipy at times (especially with regards to Louise Brooks, who makes Zelda Fitzgerald look like Mary Sue in comparison), but that’s the whole fun of the book. There are black and white reproductions of photographs from the era of the major players mentioned in this book. This book is definitely recommended for anyone who wants a general introduction to the 1920s and its culture.

Teaser Tuesdays

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:

Grab your current read

Open to a random page

Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page

BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)

Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!

“Dennis gathered up the balls and sauntered leisurely with Delia across the court. Muriel was left, her back and the terrible, indecent safety-pin exposed to the full gaze of Social Mashington in the Pavilion.”

--From The Crowded Street, by Winifred Holtby