"London is a manuscript, a square mile scribbled over by two thousand years of Londoners; it is parchment scraped clean and used again. But around London Wall the streets still curve, and the Tower and Westminster Abbey still stand. And Shakespeare is as big as the London Wall. Shakespeare left traces." (p. 78)
A coworker once told me reading Dickens and other fictional works informed his mental map of London; he needed nothing at hand to know the city's streets or the way to the Thames.
I, on the other hand, very much need detailed, indexed maps. In fact, when reading a novel, I tend to skip over detailed descriptions of land and streets. At least, until I've been to the places being written about -- Elizabeth Hay's Late Nights on Air never made so much sense as after I had returned from Yellowknife. Now, on a second read of Chasing Shakespeares, I know all the places Sarah Smith writes of, and I appreciate how the main character, Joe Roper, wants so badly to see the the history of the city come to life.
Showing posts with label Late Nights On Air. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Late Nights On Air. Show all posts
2010-08-11
2010-03-23
in-between reads: good and bad, bad, bad
Just back from a (warm, amazing, lovely, awesome) weekend away, and got to some really great reads.
Including this article about Hilary Clinton and Barack Obama making nice. (I know, I'm obsessed.)
Also, this profile of Barack Obama's chief of staff.
I even picked up a book about social media I'm super keen to get into. (And then, yes, I got my reading list for next year. *exciting!*)
And... Yeah, that's about it.
See, I was also reading Elizabeth Hay's collection of short stories, Small Change. And I fricking hated it. In fact, I still have one last short story to read, and I can barely work up the energy....
I know what you might be thinking. "Doesn't she always complain about short story collections because she's not really deep enough to get them?"
Yeah, I see your point. Except I loved Birds of America. And my problem here isn't a lack of depth. At least, I don't think it is. (Although I imagine no one ever really thinks they lack depth...)
Anyway.
All the stories are connected, and I understand how they're connected, since they deal with the same characters again and again.
So why not just link the stories as "chapters" and then tell a single story in a clear, straightforward manner?
I don't know.
Instead, Hay opted to write all the stories in first-person, so the reader can keep trying to guess who is talking. Each new story is like a puzzle. And you spend so much time trying to figure out what the person is saying, whether they are male or female, whether you've already kind of read this story but from a different perspective, that you don't actually get to enjoy any of the stories for what they are.
Of course, without the guessing game, the stories would just be repetitive tales of how one woman (and possibly a second woman with the same name) breaks friendships again and again.
Highlights? Only one:
"This is the tragedy of love. We are most serious with the people we most admire, and the people we most admire love to laugh." p. 128
I know. Barely a highlight. I was in transit when I thought those lines were particularly noteworthy. I'm not so sure now.
Ugh, so negative. If you've not yet read Late Nights on Air, do not let this review stop you. Seriously.
Including this article about Hilary Clinton and Barack Obama making nice. (I know, I'm obsessed.)
Also, this profile of Barack Obama's chief of staff.
I even picked up a book about social media I'm super keen to get into. (And then, yes, I got my reading list for next year. *exciting!*)
And... Yeah, that's about it.
See, I was also reading Elizabeth Hay's collection of short stories, Small Change. And I fricking hated it. In fact, I still have one last short story to read, and I can barely work up the energy....
I know what you might be thinking. "Doesn't she always complain about short story collections because she's not really deep enough to get them?"
Yeah, I see your point. Except I loved Birds of America. And my problem here isn't a lack of depth. At least, I don't think it is. (Although I imagine no one ever really thinks they lack depth...)
Anyway.
All the stories are connected, and I understand how they're connected, since they deal with the same characters again and again.
So why not just link the stories as "chapters" and then tell a single story in a clear, straightforward manner?
I don't know.
Instead, Hay opted to write all the stories in first-person, so the reader can keep trying to guess who is talking. Each new story is like a puzzle. And you spend so much time trying to figure out what the person is saying, whether they are male or female, whether you've already kind of read this story but from a different perspective, that you don't actually get to enjoy any of the stories for what they are.
Of course, without the guessing game, the stories would just be repetitive tales of how one woman (and possibly a second woman with the same name) breaks friendships again and again.
Highlights? Only one:
"This is the tragedy of love. We are most serious with the people we most admire, and the people we most admire love to laugh." p. 128
I know. Barely a highlight. I was in transit when I thought those lines were particularly noteworthy. I'm not so sure now.
Ugh, so negative. If you've not yet read Late Nights on Air, do not let this review stop you. Seriously.
2009-08-17
Facebook alert
My friends -- and, I suppose, friends of friends, etc. -- have begun a chain letter-esque "15 books" list.The point is to list 15 books that your mind wanders back to again and again. Not necessarily the best books you've ever read, or your favourite books of all time. Just the ones that immediately come to mind, that perhaps you talk about a lot, the ones that have nested so far in your head they are part of who you are.
Briefly, my friend TSS's list begins with these five:
No Country For Old Men
Palestine
The English Patient
What Is The What
Go Jump In The Pool
While my friend R's list starts:
The Sword of Shannara
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay
The English Patient
Infinite Jest (Also, Consider the Lobster and A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again)
Granta 33: What Went Wrong?
And here is my complete list with -- bonus! -- explanations:
Persuasion
At the end of the day, I have to say Austen's last novel is my favourite. Yes, the plight of Anne Elliot -- she of disappeared bloom and waiting around for Capt. Wentworth -- can read a little slow. And Austen goes into overdrive to wrap it all up in happily ever after. But under all that, under the boy-meets-girl, away from the fairy tale, lies layers of character development and painful, cringe-worthy, gut-wrenching human interaction.
Cat's Eye
Speaking of gut-wrenching. Teen and pre-teen girl drama haunt a woman's whole life in this Atwood classic.
Message from Nam
Yes. This was written by Danielle Steele. This is where we judge me freely for liking a Danielle Steele novel. But my defense? I was about 12 when I read this. And when you're a 12-year-old girl who dreams of becoming a reporter, the story of a war correspondent in Vietnam is something like a super hero comic book.
Fighting for Canada
This Diane Francis book about Quebec's separation movement was probably the first piece of non-fiction I read without a teacher breathing down my neck. I was fascinated by all things related to the 1995 referendum for years -- including all the newspapers my dad sent me from Montreal, English and French -- and as far as I'm concerned this book pushed me in the direction of political reporting years down the road.
The Vagina Monologues
Cunt! That's right. I said it. Out loud. Kind of. Eve Ensler's collection is a must-read for empowered women everywhere.
Bitter Chocolate
I successfully gave up chocolate for a year thanks to this Carol Off investigation.
Late Nights on Air
How awesome is Elizabeth Hay? In this book, she actually captures Yellowknife and puts it on the page for everyone in the world to enjoy. Granted, I have only ever been in Yellowknife for about five days altogether. So maybe I'm not the best expert. But when I was there, I couldn't stop thinking about the world Hay created.
Gone With The Wind
"Fiddle dee-dee. Tomorrow is another day." Actually a thing I say, more than a decade after discovering an author can have enough guts not to give her hero and heroine a happy ending.
The Queen's Fool
Philippa Gregory + history of the United Kingdom + romance = Unforgettable.
Tom Jones
Fact: Henry Fielding is the only man to sneak onto this list. Also, his is one of the first English novels that looks like the kind of novel you'd read today. Tom Jones is the perfect haphazard, accidental lady's man. He's a 17th century hero, yes. But you know who else he might be? Rob Lowe in St. Elmo's Fire. Bret in Flight of the Conchords. Matthew McConnaughey in everything.
Pride and Prejudice
Wanted: Mr. Darcy. Nuff said.
The Diary of Anne Frank
The ultimate proof, I think, that the mundane details are what pull you into a book. So, I was 10 years old, and here was this girl who talked about boys and crushes. And then, this girl I totally got was in the middle of a tragedy I could barely wrap my head around. To this day.
Anne of Green Gables
I learned about Tennyson -- my favourite author -- from this book. When Anne floats down the river in a boat? And nearly dies? Classic.
Rilla of Ingleside
This is L.M. Montgomery's ode to Canada, to pacifism, to Harlequin-esque romance.
Summer Sisters
Ok, this is weird. But every sex scene in this Judy Blume book -- for adults, obviously -- is super memorable. I know, it's weird. But it sticks with you. Read the book, and you'll find yourself thinking about how one might lay down towels in a hotel bathtub. Or best ways to do it in the front seat of a truck.
What I missed.... The Bell Jar. The Diviners. The Wars. The Piano Man's Daughter. (Ha! Two Timothy Findley books! I do like male authors!)
2008-11-12
portension
So, there's the kind of foreshadowing you don't even notice until a book is done. Then you are compelled to return to the start of the novel to track back to the points you wished you'd noticed before. (See Unless, when we discover why the main character's daughter stopped talking, why she signed out of civilization.)
And there is the kind of foreshadowing that keeps bonking you over the head, reminding you again and again that something is going to happen. Elizabeth Hay's most recent novel, Late Nights on Air, falls in this category. I didn't mind it until a friend pointed it out, really. And until I started reading A Student of Weather, in which Hay also exercises a heavy hand in hinting at the future.
But in reading her debut novel, I came to realize foreshadowing -- when done best -- is like a red velvet ribbon twisted around and through a narrative, holding it together, making it stronger. Yes, there are a few plot twists I would have preferred to be surprised by, but Hay's choice to lay the groundwork early on better draws out the character of Norma Joyce. Hinting at all the fragmented pieces of Norma Joyce's heart, all the places she will go and see, helps the reader better understand this little girl who becomes a woman in 364 pages.
Most important, Hay clearly knows when to hold back. The twist that rips a hole in Norma Joyce's story is never, ever hinted at. It comes almost out of nowhere.
Norma Joyce Hardy is one of the most fascinating heroines I've ever read.... For so much of the book she's described as something of a gnome, a negative little beast more typical of a villain. And her actions are those of an anti-hero, at least early on. But Hay allows for Norma Joyce to age, to become an adult. To fade, if you will. It's not quite Anne Shirley becomes Anne Blythe or anything (a sad example of a spirited character killed by marriage, age and children), but it's a quieting of obsession.
And at its heart, A Student of Weather is the tale of an obsessive love that crosses decades. The object of Norma Joyce's affection reminds me of Hubbell -- there's a practiced carelessness to him. Will he ever change? Is there any hope?
"Oh, men with twinkling eyes. You should be strung up at birth." (p. 87)
Hay is a gorgeous, gorgeous writer (I really have to purchase and read Garbo Laughs). I can't say enough good things about her books, about the spells she casts in her stories, about her ability to make me read and read without ever wanting to put a novel down. Hers are, at their heart, simple Canadian stories told in a straightforward way, as if you were telling your best friend the highlights of your life story. These are stories of land and heart, of family and solitude. Hay lends such an importance to place, allowing Prairie fields, or Ottawa's Rideau Canal, or Yellowknife's Pilot's Monument to be characters of their own. Characters that fill in the blanks the way people never can.
A parting piece to take away from this fascinating tale:
"This is always central to old fairy tales, the prince's tendency to forget. But then maybe charm and forgetfulness always go together. Maybe forgetfulness allows you to be charming because people don't register enough to be a burden. And so the Prince Charmings forget their true loves until something reminds them, a shoe that fits, or a ring they recognize, or a wave of water in the face. Certainly in those heady days after his return, Norma Joyce did her best to be unforgettable." (p. 151)
And there is the kind of foreshadowing that keeps bonking you over the head, reminding you again and again that something is going to happen. Elizabeth Hay's most recent novel, Late Nights on Air, falls in this category. I didn't mind it until a friend pointed it out, really. And until I started reading A Student of Weather, in which Hay also exercises a heavy hand in hinting at the future.
But in reading her debut novel, I came to realize foreshadowing -- when done best -- is like a red velvet ribbon twisted around and through a narrative, holding it together, making it stronger. Yes, there are a few plot twists I would have preferred to be surprised by, but Hay's choice to lay the groundwork early on better draws out the character of Norma Joyce. Hinting at all the fragmented pieces of Norma Joyce's heart, all the places she will go and see, helps the reader better understand this little girl who becomes a woman in 364 pages.
Most important, Hay clearly knows when to hold back. The twist that rips a hole in Norma Joyce's story is never, ever hinted at. It comes almost out of nowhere.
Norma Joyce Hardy is one of the most fascinating heroines I've ever read.... For so much of the book she's described as something of a gnome, a negative little beast more typical of a villain. And her actions are those of an anti-hero, at least early on. But Hay allows for Norma Joyce to age, to become an adult. To fade, if you will. It's not quite Anne Shirley becomes Anne Blythe or anything (a sad example of a spirited character killed by marriage, age and children), but it's a quieting of obsession.
And at its heart, A Student of Weather is the tale of an obsessive love that crosses decades. The object of Norma Joyce's affection reminds me of Hubbell -- there's a practiced carelessness to him. Will he ever change? Is there any hope?
"Oh, men with twinkling eyes. You should be strung up at birth." (p. 87)
Hay is a gorgeous, gorgeous writer (I really have to purchase and read Garbo Laughs). I can't say enough good things about her books, about the spells she casts in her stories, about her ability to make me read and read without ever wanting to put a novel down. Hers are, at their heart, simple Canadian stories told in a straightforward way, as if you were telling your best friend the highlights of your life story. These are stories of land and heart, of family and solitude. Hay lends such an importance to place, allowing Prairie fields, or Ottawa's Rideau Canal, or Yellowknife's Pilot's Monument to be characters of their own. Characters that fill in the blanks the way people never can.
A parting piece to take away from this fascinating tale:
"This is always central to old fairy tales, the prince's tendency to forget. But then maybe charm and forgetfulness always go together. Maybe forgetfulness allows you to be charming because people don't register enough to be a burden. And so the Prince Charmings forget their true loves until something reminds them, a shoe that fits, or a ring they recognize, or a wave of water in the face. Certainly in those heady days after his return, Norma Joyce did her best to be unforgettable." (p. 151)
2008-08-13
random
1. This does have to do with books.
2. And it's hilarious.
3. Look! North!
While in Yellowknife this week, I kept passing the CBC building along Franklin Avenue. I couldn't stop staring -- I kind of acted like the office might be the secret home of Mick Jagger.... or Pierre Trudeau.... Whatever, my point is, I was acting like it was a celebrity mansion, thanks entirely to Elizabeth Hay. I wondered whether the van out front with the canoe atop might be a prop in homage to Gwen. Then, I wondered what the equivalent prop might be for Harry or Dido or the creepy dangerous guy Dido ran off with....
Seriously, have you read this book yet? Everyone up here is still talking about it. For a woman who does not live in the Northwest Territories, Hay remains very much a media darling around these parts, and it's easy to see why -- she wrote a love story to this beautiful little city.
2008-08-12
countdown!
(I realize this is the second time in about 10 days that I'm using the same graphic map. But, well, consider it a stand-in scene setter for now. Also, thanks a million to Sarah for sending links to info about the north -- much appreciated!!)
I can't decide whether I'm running away from summer or running toward the sun. But in a matter of days I will be in a place where the sun sets at 1 a.m. (and rises at 3 a.m.) and the temperature barely notches past 10C (if I'm lucky).
Such an adventure.
For inspiration, I've already packed The Sweet Edge and Late Nights on Air. The latter novel, funnily enough, comes up again and again as I make preparations to meet people up north. They keep mentioning the lure of the Territories, people's particular interest in the area at the moment, and the fact Elizabeth Hay won a Giller for her descriptions.
I'm also packing along Norwegian Wood, which I am still loving. Even if the author is making fun of the reader:
"'You've got this funny way of talking,' she said. 'Don't tell me you're trying to imitate that boy in Catcher in the Rye?'
'No way!' I said with a smile.
Reiko smiled too, cigarette in mouth. 'You are a good person, though. I can tell that much from looking at you. I can tell these things after seven years of watching people come and go here: there are people who can open their hearts and people who can't. You're one of the ones who can. Or, more precisely, you can if you want to.'" (p. 131)
I have to admit I don't think Haruki Murakami's work reads at all like J.D. Salinger's. But perhaps that is something in the translation....
I will admit there's a certain baffled naivete to Toru Watanabe as a main character that brings to mind Holden Caulfield. But I like Toru approximately 100 per cent more, even when he wanders into unusual circumstances I almost can't fathom.
Okay, friends. That's all from me for now. Take a look at this, though -- I think it'll make you smile on a totally unrelated note.
Also, I won't be here, but book club date's been set for Sunday. I look forward to reading and posting reviews of the book.... hint, hint....
2008-08-02
lonelier planet
I'm not uber-thrilled with the Lonely Planet people today.
Or the Frommer's people. Or the Fodor's types. Michelin didn't impress me much either.
Wanna go to Alaska? There's a book about it. Also, the Queen Charlotte Islands. And Newfoundland. You can read about treks through all parts of France or China or Peru or India, but if you're looking for a guide to the Northwest Territories, my friend, you are shit out of luck.
Excuse my profanity. I'm sure we can all agree I'm not usually that kind of girl.
But as a Canadian standing in a Chapters outlet, shouldn't I be able to find something on the Territories beyond a lonely chapter at the back of the big fat Canada guidebook? Isn't Yellowknife like a huge destination for Japanese and German tourists, so shouldn't all the information they need be collected in book format, then published in English?
(I know, lots to ask. Big whiner. Time to laugh at the girl who just learned you can't rent a car in Inuvik.)
Or the Frommer's people. Or the Fodor's types. Michelin didn't impress me much either.
Wanna go to Alaska? There's a book about it. Also, the Queen Charlotte Islands. And Newfoundland. You can read about treks through all parts of France or China or Peru or India, but if you're looking for a guide to the Northwest Territories, my friend, you are shit out of luck.
Excuse my profanity. I'm sure we can all agree I'm not usually that kind of girl.
But as a Canadian standing in a Chapters outlet, shouldn't I be able to find something on the Territories beyond a lonely chapter at the back of the big fat Canada guidebook? Isn't Yellowknife like a huge destination for Japanese and German tourists, so shouldn't all the information they need be collected in book format, then published in English?
(I know, lots to ask. Big whiner. Time to laugh at the girl who just learned you can't rent a car in Inuvik.)
Someone should get on this.... I vote for Ed.
Other news, other news.... In my humble opinion, this Journal series is something to be proud of. Yes, roll your eyes at me. I'll stand over here now and pretend I'm not guilty of anything at all....
Other news, other news.... In my humble opinion, this Journal series is something to be proud of. Yes, roll your eyes at me. I'll stand over here now and pretend I'm not guilty of anything at all....
2008-06-02
listen
One of the weird things about Prague was the music. I would be sitting in a cafe and suddenly I'd be listening to Kelly Clarkson. Alanis Morisette. Avril Lavigne.
At home, I wouldn't think twice on this. I'd even focus on the words of You Oughta Know, remembering a time when I was in Grade 9 and every single phrase was so much like my life. (It wasn't.)
In the Czech Republic, it was a weird, constant embrace of The West that I came to expect of a city so tourism-friendly there are signs every 10 metres letting you know how close you are to McDonalds.
At the same time, I couldn't let go of The West, either. Throughout my short journey, I tucked into books about places completely alien to where I was. I was not reading Kafka, I was not loving Boris Pasternak, I was continuing to avoid Anna Karenina.
On the train from Prague to Krakow, as fog settled and misted and made everything seem a hundred times more mysterious, I read Elizabeth Hay's award-winning Late Nights on Air.
I loved every single sentence and paragraph and page, soaking up images of Canada's Northwest Territories, of a short summer that leads to a long winter that leads to another short, adventure-filled summer.
I have a feeling there was a lot of hype about this book in the last year, and somehow it all completely slipped past my radar. I really did plan to leave the book at a hostel in Prague, but I couldn't. I hadn't finished it -- lost in Hay's straight-forward prose, her foreshadowing, her plot -- and by the time I had, I didn't want to leave the book behind.
It's a novel to cherish, a story of the quirky characters working in a CBC radio office in the north -- the kind of novel that makes you feel like you know every single character intimately. It is a book you want to share -- please read it! now! -- but you also want it back.
Hay's main characters boil down to four personalities. European Dido, who everyone loves as well as hates, a character that radiates smoke and passion. Pent-up naive Gwen who first loves everyone and treats everything with excitement, then grows up. Bedraggled Harry who can never quite put his finger on what he wants. And mournful Eleanor, whose happiness must somehow be found inside herself.
By the end, middle and beginning of the story, you want these people to be happy, which is a wonderful thing in a collection of characters with histories and beliefs and fears and hopes. And, it is the kind of book you feel like you could re-read again and again; perhaps once just focusing on aboriginal relations. Another time with an eye on the politics of the era (1970s). Again, pondering the way men and women interact. A fifth time contemplating the landscape alone.
Anyway, I offer this quote to share, from dialogue in the book. For those living in Edmonton, I think it echoes appropriately, even if our climate isn't quite so hostile as Yellowknife's, our days not so very short.
At home, I wouldn't think twice on this. I'd even focus on the words of You Oughta Know, remembering a time when I was in Grade 9 and every single phrase was so much like my life. (It wasn't.)
In the Czech Republic, it was a weird, constant embrace of The West that I came to expect of a city so tourism-friendly there are signs every 10 metres letting you know how close you are to McDonalds.
At the same time, I couldn't let go of The West, either. Throughout my short journey, I tucked into books about places completely alien to where I was. I was not reading Kafka, I was not loving Boris Pasternak, I was continuing to avoid Anna Karenina.
On the train from Prague to Krakow, as fog settled and misted and made everything seem a hundred times more mysterious, I read Elizabeth Hay's award-winning Late Nights on Air.
I loved every single sentence and paragraph and page, soaking up images of Canada's Northwest Territories, of a short summer that leads to a long winter that leads to another short, adventure-filled summer.
I have a feeling there was a lot of hype about this book in the last year, and somehow it all completely slipped past my radar. I really did plan to leave the book at a hostel in Prague, but I couldn't. I hadn't finished it -- lost in Hay's straight-forward prose, her foreshadowing, her plot -- and by the time I had, I didn't want to leave the book behind.
It's a novel to cherish, a story of the quirky characters working in a CBC radio office in the north -- the kind of novel that makes you feel like you know every single character intimately. It is a book you want to share -- please read it! now! -- but you also want it back.
Hay's main characters boil down to four personalities. European Dido, who everyone loves as well as hates, a character that radiates smoke and passion. Pent-up naive Gwen who first loves everyone and treats everything with excitement, then grows up. Bedraggled Harry who can never quite put his finger on what he wants. And mournful Eleanor, whose happiness must somehow be found inside herself.
By the end, middle and beginning of the story, you want these people to be happy, which is a wonderful thing in a collection of characters with histories and beliefs and fears and hopes. And, it is the kind of book you feel like you could re-read again and again; perhaps once just focusing on aboriginal relations. Another time with an eye on the politics of the era (1970s). Again, pondering the way men and women interact. A fifth time contemplating the landscape alone.
Anyway, I offer this quote to share, from dialogue in the book. For those living in Edmonton, I think it echoes appropriately, even if our climate isn't quite so hostile as Yellowknife's, our days not so very short.
"Just remember there are worse things than loneliness and you won't make my mistake. But winter here does terrible things to people.... Winter leaves a lasting mark, my dear. You discover you're not so strong, after all." (page 107, Lorna to Gwen)
2008-05-15
vacation!
This is what I'm taking on vacation:
Silver shoes for dancing? Check.
Flirty zippers on shoes? Check.
Bandage for sprained ankle? Sigh. Check.
I know, I know. It's hard to feel sorry for me when I get to take a break from work, etc. And when I spend so much time feeling sorry for myself.
Anyway, dear readers, I'll be taking a break from blog posting for the next bit. While gone, I plan to read Elizabeth Hay's Late Nights On Air. My not-so-secret subversive plan is to leave my copy at a hostel to spread the Canada summer lovin'. (Hey, it's not all just Atwood and L.M. Montgomery, people. There's more CanLit to love.) (Um, yes I do realize I haven't yet read Hay. But as if I won't love a Canadian author some have compared to Alice Hoffman.)
Your homework while I'm gone? Well, for book clubbers, it's time to pick up Hey Nostradamus!
Otherwise, I offer you a handful of first impressions:
".... it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the dark. There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost very attachment that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all begin freely -- a slight preference is natural enough; but there are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement. In nine cases out of ten, a woman had better show more affection than she feels...."
-- Pride and Prejudice
Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her.... The real evils indeed of Emma's situation were the power of having rather too much her own way, and a disposition to think a little too well of herself; these were the disadvantages which threatened alloy to her many enjoyments. The danger, however, was at present so unperceived, that they did not by any means rank as misfortunes with her.
-- Emma
It sometimes happens, that a woman is handsomer at twenty-nine than she was ten years before; and, generally speaking, if there has been neither ill health nor anxiety, it is a time of life at which scarcely any charm is lost.
-- Persuasion
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