September 1st round-up

It's been gorgeous the last few days in Edmonton, almost completely unlike the rest of the summer.

Still, there's something about knowing it's September that makes me uneasy. I wonder if people were happier before calendars.

Anyway. Books.

From my friend T. and his coworkers, suggestions of other new ways to pillage Jane Austen's work:

"Given the runaway success of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, and Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters will arrive shortly, the inevitable, ahem, modification of Austen' much-loved (definitely by you) canon is at hand. My co-workers and I started throwing around titles. What do you think?

The Vampire of Mansfield Park (thematic too!)
Emma and Mr. Hyde
Northanger Abbey's Alien Invasion (sort of thematic?)
Haunting Persuasion"

I personally love the idea of vampires overtaking Mansfield Park. Especially if that means Fanny becomes some sort of Buffy-esque vampire slayer, which would mean she has a personality and new toughness. But T.'s suggestion Capt. Wentworth get the chance to exorcise a ghost-like Anne Elliot.... why, that's just blasphemy for a girl whose favourite Austen is Persuasion.

This, on the other hand -- Darcy gone vampire -- is not?

On another note, what are you reading these days?

If you're in book club, hopefully you've started reading Lorrie Moore's collection, Birds of America.

I'm really digging it so far -- I know this is a strange line to pull out of the story, "Which is More Than I Can Say About Some People," but here goes nonetheless:

"It was really the world that was one's brutal mother, the one that nursed and neglected you, and your own mother was only your sibling in that world." p. 46

I'm also half-reading Vanity Fair. And have decided to give my first child the middle name Makepeace. No matter gender.

Becky Sharp is, obviously, hateful in a Scarlett O'Hara kind of way. But you kind of have to appreciate a 19th century girl who realizes she has to get married to net income to survive. And so she goes about making it happen.... or trying to make it happen.... without romantic aspirations. (I'm less than 100 pages in, I realize that.)

This is kind of funny:

"If a person is too poor to keep a servant, though ever so elegant, he must sweep his own rooms: if a dear girl has no dear Mamma to settle matters with the young man, she must do it for herself. And oh, what a mercy it is that these women do not exercise their powers oftener! We can't resist them, if they do. Let them show ever so little inclination, and men go down on their knees at once: old or ugly, it is all the same. And this I set down as a positive truth. A woman with fair opportunities, and without an absolute hump, may marry WHOM SHE LIKES. Only let us be thankful that the darlings are like the beasts of the field, and don't know their own power. They would overcome us entirely if they did." (p. 40)

My my, what power I must have at my fingertips....

Last of all, how gorgeous is this bookshelf?

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!)

quiet

My great mistake was in being born the younger. No. Where I went wrong was in coming back here, once I'd got away. A person has to be ruthless. One has to say I'm going, and not be prevailed upon to return.

But how could I? (p. 13)

I'm wading through Margaret Laurence's A Jest of God.

I say wading, because I can't bear to sink into it and the loneliness of heroine Rachel Cameron.

Really, "heroine" -- so far -- is an overstatement. Rachel is so sad! Possibly depressed. She is a school teacher in her early 30s, living alone with her widowed mother in her hometown. She sleeps in her childhood bedroom, teaches in her childhood classroom, gets her hair done by the same dresser she's known all her life....

But here's what I like: It's bloody honest.

This is my second Laurence novel, first released in 1966. And yes, on the surface Rachel is a lovely martyr. But in her head, she's railing against her mother's bridge parties. She shakes her fist -- in her head, again -- at her smug married sister. She purposely turns a blind eye to children being bullied in the school yard, not because she doesn't care, but because she can't let them know she cares.

And she's evaluating the whole time. There's a bitterness to her character, but I match it to hope for a turnaround. There's a plot to come, yes? Laurence could not have written a Governor General's Award for ability to depress? And surely Margaret Atwood would not have written the afterword if Rachel turns out to be little more than the put-upon Anne Elliott of Manitoba?

I'll keep you posted. And then, I will start reading new book club selection The Year of Magical Thinking.

romance breaker-builders

Ok, I know this is a trashy question (ba-dum-bum), but I love it: What is your favourite romance-cliche-keeping-the-protagonists-apart-but-somehow-they-overcome-for-the-sake-of-love plot line?

I would have to say it's the passage of time.

Think of Persuasion -- misunderstanding grounded in youth keeps Anne and Wentworth apart. They have to overcome the years together, somehow.

How about Where the Heart Is? (I know, lame, but it can't be all class all the time around Brilliant title to go here.) When Novalee first comes to town, she is absolutely far too young to get it on with Forney, the grounded librarian. They need time to stew and grow up and figure themselves out.

Yeah, I like "time" as a breaker. Which is funny, because in real life I hate waiting for anything. But perhaps patience can be found on a hope of happily ever after?

And now I sound like a moron.

So look, see what you can read for free online? An important book. About important things.

an Austen moment

Or two.... Quotes from Persuasion.

"Men have had every advantage of us in telling their own story. Education has been theirs in so much a higher degree; the pen has been in their hands, I will not allow books to prove anything."

"All the privilege I claim for my own sex (it is not a very enviable one, you need not covet it) is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone."

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

channeling Austen

(May I preface this entry by apologizing to my friend Erin, who thinks she does not like Jane Austen -- and so is probably sick of reading about her on this blog -- even though she’s only ever read Persuasion. Not that I could ever judge someone for making such a decision since I think I do not like Mordecai Richler even though I have only ever read the first 30 pages of Barney’s Version. Three times. But Erin has never read Pride and Prejudice, regarded in most circles as Austen’s best book and one of the best English-language works of the late 17th century.So I think I’ve finally found her.

The One.

The character created by Jane Austen who I can best identify with.

If Austen’s women were characters in Sex and the City, I think most people would identify with Elizabeth Bennet the way most women think they are shades of Carrie Bradshaw. Miss Bennet has the best lines, Ms. Bradshaw the best shoes. Miss Bennet sees the irony all around her, ditto Ms. Bradshaw. Mr. Darcy? Mr. Big.

For those who see themselves a bit more Charlotte, I offer up Sense and Sensibility’s Marianne -- ever the dreamy, frankly not-swift romantic.

Samantha? The sexually avant garde Ms. Jones does not lend herself to 17th- or early 18th- century comparison. Mr. Wickham was too much a cad. Mary Crawford too sly. Mr. Willoughby too stupid.

Now, I have always thought of myself as something of a Miranda. Career-driven. Cake-driven. Prone to obsessing the failures of technology.

Miranda isn’t just commitment-phobic. She doesn’t need to be in a romantic relationship.

Love it, love her.

Love Emma.

Just hear me out for a second.

I have no familiarity whatsoever with Northanger Abbey. But the balance of Austen’s work is about relationships between men and women. Not love stories, really, though certainly stories about the importance of marriage.

Not necessarily marriage for love -- though that’s all well and good if you can put aside your pride and your prejudice, etc. etc. Instead, marriage to keep a woman going, keep her under a roof with food in her mouth, yadda yadda.

But Austen’s Emma deals with a girl who does not need to marry at all. Emma Woodhouse will do perfectly well, thank you very much, with a very large inheritance. And, while “it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife,” not so for a single woman in possession of the same.

Thank you very much.

Yes, Emma is snobby. Very smart, but given to stupidity because she lets her imagination run away with her.

(Me! Me!)

But she isn’t some wimpy Anne Elliot. Or sad sack Fanny Price. Or chin-up martyr Elinor Dashwood. Or vaguely bull-shitting Elizabeth Bennet.

Emma doesn’t just think she doesn’t need a man.

She knows it.

She thrives on friendships and family. She honestly wants for nothing.

Take this haughty line, in the middle of a heated argument with her sister’s brother-in-law, Mr. Knightley:

“Oh! To be sure,” cried Emma. “It is always incomprehensible to a man that a woman should ever refuse an offer of marriage. A man always imagines a woman to be ready for anyone who asks her.”

I know, I know, just halfway through the book I’m getting ahead of myself.

Anyone who’s familiar with the Austen formula, or who has watched Clueless, knows what will happen. Emma will surely get her come-uppance. Probably more than once. She’ll realize snobbery is bad, or at least not to be celebrated as a virtue. She’ll hook up with the naggy brother-in-law. Who seemed rather less naggy and more hot when played by Paul Rudd.

I guess I might just be early Emma, rather than fully-developed Emma.

Sort of like being early Miranda rather than lives-in-Brooklyn-with-a-baby-and-a-puppy-and-a-bartender-husband-and-his-Alzheimer’s-stricken-mother Miranda.

for the boy

For the first time ever, a boy is picking the next selection for our book club. This is not as big a deal as you might think, as our book club has only met five times in about nine months.

But still. Guys do think differently than girls do. It's really exciting. That's why sometimes we (me, just me) treat the lone boy in our ranks as some sort of circus animal who will do tricks for us (again me). We (I) insist on pausing about half an hour into the discussion and turning on him. "What is the male perspective?" Suddenly, he is thrust into the position of speaking on behalf of men everywhere. (My fault. All mine. No other women in the group are responsible for this.)

Poor guy. Of course, not a lot of guys without English degrees have had to read Persuasion, so really he's not having to speak on behalf of that many people.

Anyway, one way men and women think differently about book club is that women have a tendency to send out the uber-nice "anyone have suggestions?" e-mail. This e-mail is an invitation to passive aggression, since the woman who next hosts book club will just pick what she wants to read, or what she thinks the majority of people will take the time to read. Responses to the e-mail really just serve to stress her out, and make her worry someone might be offended she didn't select their book.

Our man in book club has bypassed this, but to be honest he was unlikely to feel that bizarre guilt anyway.

So here is his discussion of a short list (edited for brevity):

"Catcher in the Rye
My theory behind this one is that it is probably the quintessential masculine book and up until this point the books have leaned toward the girly....
War Reporting for Cowards
OK this book would be different for the group because it is non-fiction, but it also touches on the form of literary non-fiction or new journalism, which would be a good topic of discussion.... but not along our usual vein of what does he mean by this?....
Fever Pitch
Nick Hornby, who wrote High Fidelity and About a Boy, both books I thoroughly enjoy, also wrote Fever Pitch, which I have always meant to read.
Love Monkey
There is a TV show I like that is allegedly based on this book. The show is very smart and amusing and I am working under the assumption the book might also be. This one is fairly low down the shortlist on account of I know nothing about it really, but I am thinking about it mostly out of curiosity.
A Sunday at the Pool in Kigali
I was thinking about this one because it is so tragic and vivid. To the point where it is really hard to read and at the same time hard to put down. It is the kind of book where at the end you just want to blow your brains out or drink heavily or drink heavily and blow your brains out, so we'll see.
I was also thinking about another Stephen King (I am not sure Different Seasons was the best way to open up to him) or a John Grisham book...."

See what I mean? Men and women approach book club in completely different ways. I say this mostly because I would never choose any of these books, so a more accurate statement would be that this man and I approach things very differently.

Except Love Monkey, which of course I'm excited about because the man selecting the books is least excited about it. I'm contrary that way, but I love the description, from one of the reviews, of a man calling his interest in a woman a once-in-a-lifetime thing, like cleaning behind his fridge.

so.... bored....

It's still February. Which means it's not spring yet, and definitely not summer yet.

And I'm sick. I hate being sick. I mean, obviously, everyone hates to be sick. No one walks around, licking sick people in the hopes of catching a cold of their own.

But I hate having a cold, I hate the way the back of my throat gets rough, and my throat hurts, and I just generally ooze.

I also hate the way other people back away from me, as if they will catch the terrible short-term disease I've come across. Excuse me, but I am already coughing into my sleeve the way Capital Health wants me to, and disinfecting the desk at my office constantly with Lysol.

What else do you want from me?

Anyway, this all makes me wonder about Meg Ryan.

Have you ever noticed Meg Ryan getting sick in a film is the turning point in a romantic comedy?

In You've Got Mail, it's a red-nosed, bleary-eyed Ryan that Tom Hanks finally reveals his love to. In Sleepless in Seattle, it's a stuffed-up Ryan who realizes she should cross the continent to find the love of her life after hearing his voice on the radio. When Harry Met Sally's tearful, snuffly Ryan finally gets it on with Billy Crystal (okay, so in that case she's more heart-sick than sick, but still, she's pretty gross).

The Meg Ryan Is Sick Turning Point is not the first time illness has been used to bring on the romance, however.

In her day, Jane Austen was a huge fan of sending her characters to bed for a day or two in order to bring on a plot twist.

Mrs. Bennet's plan to show off the virtues of her eldest daughter, Jane, gets totally twisted around in Pride and Prejudice when Jane falls deathly ill because she walks in the cold rain. She has to spend days at the Bingley home. The only benefit is it sends Elizabeth after her, putting her in direct contact with the snooty Mr. Darcy, who is ultimately her soulmate in pride and prejudice.

(And, I guess it shows the Bingleys that the Bennets are not an altogether embarrassing family to get to know, even if Mrs. Bennet is outrageous.... which ultimately paves the way for Jane's happiness, too.)

That's Austen's first published book. Her last, Persuasion, also sends a character to bed. This time the ridiculous Louisa Musgrove, whose playful day trip turns for the worst when she falls off a low stone ridge and nearly dies. We think. It's all very serious by 19th century standards. Miss Musgrove being bed-ridden, however, ultimately gets her out of the way and enables the ever-patient Anne Elliott to get her man, Capt. Wentworth.

But why?

Why is being gross and bed-ridden and cough-y a plot twist to bring on the love?

When I am these things, the very last thing I want is some guy bugging me with roses or poetry. I look gross at the moment. My hair is not done. I really just want to watch bad television and groan periodically into my pillows.

This is not how I want to remember the start of a romance.

Which is just as well. I think in Austen's day, getting a character sick was the only way the author could think of to ensure her male and female characters properly got to know and spend some time with each other.

Not to mention, a lot of these people have nothing better to do than lie around in bed in a dark room all day, drinking tea and having people speak to them softly.

But the modern-day heroine can not possibly manoeuvre sickness into a starting point for a relationship.

The modern woman takes care of herself. She doesn't call anyone over to bring a box of tissues or prepare her chicken soup.

Honestly, there is nothing less romantic than being sick.

Man, am I bored.


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