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Wow, I'm on a roll! Now I just have to pick up a book to read quickly before I lose my momentum. Am thinking I'll read Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban just to keep up the momentum until my books through interlibrary loan are in. And then I'll get Drums of Autumn!
Book: Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier
Genre: Gothic romance / Classics
Length: 357 pp.
Progress (pages): 7,748/15,000 (52%)
Grade: A-
Amazon Summary: Rebecca is a novel of mystery and passion, a dark psychological tale of secrets and betrayal, dead loves and an estate called Manderley that is as much a presence as the humans who inhabit it: "when the leaves rustle, they sound very much like the stealthy movement of a woman in evening dress, and when they shiver suddenly and fall, and scatter away along the ground, they might be the pitter, patter of a woman's hurrying footsteps, and the mark in the gravel the imprint of a high-heeled satin shoe." Manderley is filled with memories of the elegant and flamboyant Rebecca, the first Mrs. de Winter; with the obsessive love of her housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers, who observes the young, timid second Mrs. de Winter with sullen hostility; and with the oppressive silences of a secretive husband, Maxim. Rebecca may be physically dead, but she is a force to contend with, and the housekeeper's evil matches that of her former mistress as a purveyor of the emotional horror thrust on the innocent Mrs. de Winter. The tension builds as the new Mrs. de Winter slowly grows and asserts herself, surviving the wicked deceptions of Mrs. Danvers and the silent deceits of her husband, to emerge triumphant in the midst of a surprise ending that leaves the reader with a sense of haunting justice.
My Thoughts: This book utilizes two of my favorite plot devices in classic novels: Gothic romance and a slowly unfolding mystery. Although it is not my favorite novel utilizing these devices—that would have to go to Jane Eyre and The Woman in White, respectively—it was a satisfying novel that I read in a few days.
The main character is never named, nor given an age, but I see her as a girl not yet in her late teens. She is shy, still coming into her own and trying to figure out who she is outside of the context of her status as companion to Mrs. Van Hopper and later, wife to Maxim de Winter. She feels inferior to the late Rebecca, who is commonly revered in Manderley, and fears bringing it up for the sake of her husband, who seems to have not gotten over his wife's death. This sense of inferiority continues throughout most of the novel, compounded by the housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers, constantly belitting her, claiming she is "not like Rebecca."
Occasionally, the main character irritated me, only because I wanted her to just break out of her mold and do something different, instead of letting the vile Mrs. Danvers make her feel inferior and bring out the presence of the late Rebecca to the house even more. However, considering I am often as shy as she is, if not more, I can understand how difficult it is. The main character did undergo some growth at the end of the story, though, so I appreciated that.
I was expecting some "surprise twist" at the end of the story, and I got it. Even though I didn't expect it, looking back over the book I see that the clues are clearly there. If the book had gone on a bit longer before us knowing, I expect I would have figured it out. (Unless I am merely flattering myself, which is altogether possible.)
The second Mrs. de Winter and Mr. de Winter went through many changes during their relationship. At the beginning, they were rather close, but as soon as they got to Manderley, they grew distant out of some misunderstandings on the side of them both, as well as some unneedful meedling on the side of Mrs. Danvers. By the time we got to the end, though, and the air was cleared between them, their relationship deepened, and I expect it continued to grow outside the pages of the story.
However, the open ending annoyed me quite a bit, because I was looking forward to finding out what happened after the climax was over, but we never really found out. We're just made to assume this happened because someone said this, and after that, this happened, and we don't know for sure. If the book had just gone into a little more detail (one more chapter!), I would have been thoroughly satisfied. As it was, there were too many loose threads. In ways, it felt like it needed a sequel.
Book: On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan
Genre: Fiction
Length: 203 pp.
Progress (pages): 7,951/15,000 (53%)
Grade: B+
Amazon Summary: Not quite novel or novella, McEwan's masterful 13th work of fiction most resembles a five-part classical drama rendered in prose. It opens on the anxious Dorset Coast wedding suite dinner of Edward Mayhew and the former Florence Ponting, married in the summer of 1963 at 23 and 22 respectively; the looming dramatic crisis is the marriage's impending consummation, or lack of it. Edward is a rough-hewn but sweet student of history, son of an Oxfordshire primary school headmaster and a mother who was brain damaged in an accident when Edward was five. Florence, daughter of a businessman and (a rarity then) a female Oxford philosophy professor, is intense but warm and has founded a string quartet. Their fears about sex and their inability to discuss them form the story's center. At the book's midpoint, McEwan (Atonement, etc.) goes into forensic detail about their naïve and disastrous efforts on the marriage bed, and the final chapter presents the couple's explosive postcoital confrontation on Chesil Beach. Staying very close to this marital trauma and the circumstances surrounding it (particularly class), McEwan's flawless omniscient narration has a curious (and not unpleasantly condescending) fable-like quality, as if an older self were simultaneously disavowing and affirming a younger. The story itself isn't arresting, but the narrator's journey through it is.
My Thoughts: As expected, Ian McEwan is definitely on my list of favorite authors discovered this year, along with Diana Gabaldon, even though their styles could not be more different. Diana Gabaldon writes sprawling, epic novels with love and adventure and passion that move along at breakneck speeds in some places, whereas Ian McEwan writes short, leisurely pieces that explore love and the repercussions thereof, or the bonds between family, or the price of atonement, using page-long paragraphs that sometimes make you cringe. Regardless, I adore the writings of both.
In typical McEwan style, the bulk of the story takes place in less than four hours, with reminisces about the past and thoughts of the future. It chronicles the story of a couple's wedding night, and how they are both nervous and apprehensive, but for entirely different reasons. Florence, the wife, is nervous and disgusted at the thought of "penetration" and seems to be naturally celibate (at least that's what I took from it; she has no interest in sexual relations. At all), whereas Edward has typical pre-consummation jitters. Some parts made me cringe in disgust and embarrassment, although luckily, those parts were when I was reading at home, so I did not have to be oddly furtive while reading, hoping someone wasn't looking over my shoulder.
The ending, in typical McEwan style, was depressing—although not so depressing I cried. If the book had been longer and I had learned more about the characters, I probably would have cried. As it was, it was a quick, one-day read that made me think about marriage, and how there are certain expectations going into it. It talks about the consequences of not being honest with your partner, of being so cautious with each other, so very shy, that neither one feels very comfortable speaking their mind.
Indeed, the whole disaster could have been avoided had the two people been honest with one another from the start. That, I believe, is the "moral" of this short tale: Be honest about your fears, your worries, your dreads, with your partner. It seems simple, but in some cases, it is not so simple to put into practice. I speak somewhat from personal experience here, although I've obviously never been in a situation like they have, and I doubt I ever will.
In ways, this book seems a mature read for a fourteen-year-old, and I doubt that most other people my age would understand or like this book. I liked it, however, and would recommend it, even though it is not my favorite McEwan novel. That goes to Atonement, hands down.
Book: Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier
Genre: Gothic romance / Classics
Length: 357 pp.
Progress (pages): 7,748/15,000 (52%)
Grade: A-
Amazon Summary: Rebecca is a novel of mystery and passion, a dark psychological tale of secrets and betrayal, dead loves and an estate called Manderley that is as much a presence as the humans who inhabit it: "when the leaves rustle, they sound very much like the stealthy movement of a woman in evening dress, and when they shiver suddenly and fall, and scatter away along the ground, they might be the pitter, patter of a woman's hurrying footsteps, and the mark in the gravel the imprint of a high-heeled satin shoe." Manderley is filled with memories of the elegant and flamboyant Rebecca, the first Mrs. de Winter; with the obsessive love of her housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers, who observes the young, timid second Mrs. de Winter with sullen hostility; and with the oppressive silences of a secretive husband, Maxim. Rebecca may be physically dead, but she is a force to contend with, and the housekeeper's evil matches that of her former mistress as a purveyor of the emotional horror thrust on the innocent Mrs. de Winter. The tension builds as the new Mrs. de Winter slowly grows and asserts herself, surviving the wicked deceptions of Mrs. Danvers and the silent deceits of her husband, to emerge triumphant in the midst of a surprise ending that leaves the reader with a sense of haunting justice.
My Thoughts: This book utilizes two of my favorite plot devices in classic novels: Gothic romance and a slowly unfolding mystery. Although it is not my favorite novel utilizing these devices—that would have to go to Jane Eyre and The Woman in White, respectively—it was a satisfying novel that I read in a few days.
The main character is never named, nor given an age, but I see her as a girl not yet in her late teens. She is shy, still coming into her own and trying to figure out who she is outside of the context of her status as companion to Mrs. Van Hopper and later, wife to Maxim de Winter. She feels inferior to the late Rebecca, who is commonly revered in Manderley, and fears bringing it up for the sake of her husband, who seems to have not gotten over his wife's death. This sense of inferiority continues throughout most of the novel, compounded by the housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers, constantly belitting her, claiming she is "not like Rebecca."
Occasionally, the main character irritated me, only because I wanted her to just break out of her mold and do something different, instead of letting the vile Mrs. Danvers make her feel inferior and bring out the presence of the late Rebecca to the house even more. However, considering I am often as shy as she is, if not more, I can understand how difficult it is. The main character did undergo some growth at the end of the story, though, so I appreciated that.
I was expecting some "surprise twist" at the end of the story, and I got it. Even though I didn't expect it, looking back over the book I see that the clues are clearly there. If the book had gone on a bit longer before us knowing, I expect I would have figured it out. (Unless I am merely flattering myself, which is altogether possible.)
The second Mrs. de Winter and Mr. de Winter went through many changes during their relationship. At the beginning, they were rather close, but as soon as they got to Manderley, they grew distant out of some misunderstandings on the side of them both, as well as some unneedful meedling on the side of Mrs. Danvers. By the time we got to the end, though, and the air was cleared between them, their relationship deepened, and I expect it continued to grow outside the pages of the story.
However, the open ending annoyed me quite a bit, because I was looking forward to finding out what happened after the climax was over, but we never really found out. We're just made to assume this happened because someone said this, and after that, this happened, and we don't know for sure. If the book had just gone into a little more detail (one more chapter!), I would have been thoroughly satisfied. As it was, there were too many loose threads. In ways, it felt like it needed a sequel.
Book: On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan
Genre: Fiction
Length: 203 pp.
Progress (pages): 7,951/15,000 (53%)
Grade: B+
Amazon Summary: Not quite novel or novella, McEwan's masterful 13th work of fiction most resembles a five-part classical drama rendered in prose. It opens on the anxious Dorset Coast wedding suite dinner of Edward Mayhew and the former Florence Ponting, married in the summer of 1963 at 23 and 22 respectively; the looming dramatic crisis is the marriage's impending consummation, or lack of it. Edward is a rough-hewn but sweet student of history, son of an Oxfordshire primary school headmaster and a mother who was brain damaged in an accident when Edward was five. Florence, daughter of a businessman and (a rarity then) a female Oxford philosophy professor, is intense but warm and has founded a string quartet. Their fears about sex and their inability to discuss them form the story's center. At the book's midpoint, McEwan (Atonement, etc.) goes into forensic detail about their naïve and disastrous efforts on the marriage bed, and the final chapter presents the couple's explosive postcoital confrontation on Chesil Beach. Staying very close to this marital trauma and the circumstances surrounding it (particularly class), McEwan's flawless omniscient narration has a curious (and not unpleasantly condescending) fable-like quality, as if an older self were simultaneously disavowing and affirming a younger. The story itself isn't arresting, but the narrator's journey through it is.
My Thoughts: As expected, Ian McEwan is definitely on my list of favorite authors discovered this year, along with Diana Gabaldon, even though their styles could not be more different. Diana Gabaldon writes sprawling, epic novels with love and adventure and passion that move along at breakneck speeds in some places, whereas Ian McEwan writes short, leisurely pieces that explore love and the repercussions thereof, or the bonds between family, or the price of atonement, using page-long paragraphs that sometimes make you cringe. Regardless, I adore the writings of both.
In typical McEwan style, the bulk of the story takes place in less than four hours, with reminisces about the past and thoughts of the future. It chronicles the story of a couple's wedding night, and how they are both nervous and apprehensive, but for entirely different reasons. Florence, the wife, is nervous and disgusted at the thought of "penetration" and seems to be naturally celibate (at least that's what I took from it; she has no interest in sexual relations. At all), whereas Edward has typical pre-consummation jitters. Some parts made me cringe in disgust and embarrassment, although luckily, those parts were when I was reading at home, so I did not have to be oddly furtive while reading, hoping someone wasn't looking over my shoulder.
The ending, in typical McEwan style, was depressing—although not so depressing I cried. If the book had been longer and I had learned more about the characters, I probably would have cried. As it was, it was a quick, one-day read that made me think about marriage, and how there are certain expectations going into it. It talks about the consequences of not being honest with your partner, of being so cautious with each other, so very shy, that neither one feels very comfortable speaking their mind.
Indeed, the whole disaster could have been avoided had the two people been honest with one another from the start. That, I believe, is the "moral" of this short tale: Be honest about your fears, your worries, your dreads, with your partner. It seems simple, but in some cases, it is not so simple to put into practice. I speak somewhat from personal experience here, although I've obviously never been in a situation like they have, and I doubt I ever will.
In ways, this book seems a mature read for a fourteen-year-old, and I doubt that most other people my age would understand or like this book. I liked it, however, and would recommend it, even though it is not my favorite McEwan novel. That goes to Atonement, hands down.
