A Saturday Miscellany

Here I am, back again, and feeling decidedly refreshed after my blogging break.  I've still been around - following my favourite litblogs, marvelling at other people's ability to post intelligently on a daily basis - but have also had a little more time to read, think and sleep, usually in that order. 

One of the first things I did was to spend an afternoon browsing my shelves, reminding myself of all the wonderful books I have ahead of me and choosing titles for my Victorian-themed winter.  In the course of my deliberations I realised that what I was really planning was a 19th century reading binge, mostly Victorian but with some earlier things too, and that I was never going to get through everything I wanted to, not in a thousand years. Who knew I had so many books written during in or about the 19th century?  I started off by picking out fiction by Victorian authors and was soon staggering under the weight of the resultant stack.  Along the way I gamely added a few biographies of Victorians, and a couple of other books about the period. Which only served to remind me of the non-fiction written by Victorians that I wanted to try - Ruskin, Carlyle, Newman, Morris, Arnold.  Which, in turn, led me to think about art (the Pre-Raphaelites!) and architecture (that new biography of Pugin has been shortlisted for the Guardian First Book Award!) and poetry (Swinburne!).  The final revelation came when, stumbling upon Affinity by Sarah Waters, I realised I could also read those contemporary fiction books set in the 19th century that have been languishing in the TBR pile...  In the end, at the point when the stack was taking over the dining table, I had to take myself in hand and decide on what should make the cut and what shouldn't.  I put aside some of the bigger biographies, and some of the more obscure non-fiction; I cut out multiple books by one author.  I made discreet, smallish piles of essential-must-read-soon books, in categories, and crafted a list of 15 or so as my target, this to be revealed in a later post.

It has also been a singularly rich week for book parcels; I came home to one nearly everyday.  First there were the many fruits of Bookmooch.  I find my mooching habits ebb and flow. I tend to stick 6-10 books on my inventory at a time, which are usually snapped up within 24 hours of listing, post them off and then indulge in a request spree with the points.  Ideally I'm looking for books that intrigue me but which a) my library doesn't stock, or b) I'm unwilling to buy myself. I find that a lot of things fall into this category and there is nothing better than finding something you covet listed on Mooch.  This time I got:

• Moby Dick, Or The Whale by Herman Melville - This is a book that I find especially daunting.  I think I have an idea of it - as a great American classic - that doesn't appeal to my imagination; not to mention that there seems to be an awful lot of it. I've been meaning to buy it for a long time, but have never felt suitably inspired to shell out the £10.
• The Great Fire by Shirley Hazzard - I only recently heard of this (at The Book Despository blog I think), although it was shortlisted for the Orange Prize in 2004.   It is set during or just after WWII (I can't quite tell from the blurb...) in East Asia and recounts a love affair between a 17 year old girl and a 33 year old man. More than that I couldn't tell you, but the recommendation of it was so glowing that I had to get hold of it immediately.
• Smoke and Other Stories by Djuna Barnes - I was inspired in this choice by Dorothy's posts on Barnes' novel, Nightwood, and this is a lovely old 'green Virago' edition in pristine condition. I can't even find it listed on Amazon marketplace to give a link...
• Christina Rossetti: A Biography by Frances Thomas - Another Virago, again in pristine condition, and perfect for my 19th century winter.  Of course, it means I will have to read some of Rossetti's poetry too. :-)
• Our Spoons Came from Woolworths by Barbara Comyns - Oh look, another Virago. I have a copy of Comyns' decidedly Dada and part-biographical Sisters by a River, which is cruel and hilarious by turns. This is more of a novel: set in Bohemian London during the 1930s, it is centred on Sophia, a young woman unhappily married to Charles, a feckless artist, and follows her through pregnancy and infidelity into poverty.
• The Lifted Veil and Brother Jacob by George Eliot - A Penguin Classic now out of print, this edition brings together Eliot's only two pieces of short fiction. The first is a disturbing story about a man with the burdensome ability to predict his own death, the second about a confectioner whose mercenary schemes are foiled by his 'idiot' brother. I thought this would be another good book for the winter, if only because it is decidedly shorter than any of Eliot's novels.   
• Behindlings and The Three Button Trick and Other Stories by Nicola Barker - For the obvious reason: I'm expecting big things from Barker now that I've read Darkmans.

Impressive, no? Bookmooch really is a brilliant idea. It means that my copy of The Land of the Headless by Adam Roberts and C*nt: A Declaration of Independence could find suitable homes with readers who really wanted them - I hate to take books to my local library or charity shop and not know whether they're going to sell or even be kept. Several times I've donated things to the library only to learn they've been dumped because they were too obscure. 

Also in the post this week, a lovely copy of Annie Dillard's The Maytrees from the ever generous folks at Hesperus Press.  I've never heard of Dillard before (although she has previously won the Pulitzer) and the press release didn't sound overly inspiring:

'In 1940s Provincetown, on the tip of Cape Cod, poet Toby Maytree falls in love with Lou Bigelow at first sight.  His slow courtship gradually wins her over, and so begins a love story that lasts decades.  Surrounded by Bohemian friends, living in Toby's shac on the dunes, the two marry, have a child.  But when a friend first comes between them, then unexpectedly propels them back into each one another's lives, they must each renegotiate what it means to love.' 

But Marilynne Robinson, author of Gilead and Housekeeping had given it the thumbs up and so I tried the first chapter.  And it turns out to be the kind of book that blows you away, and now I can't wait to read it.  There is something very Robinson about Dillard's prose, which is spare and rich at the same time.

Finally, there were the three new Canongate Myths, which I wrote about in anticipation of a little while ago: Ali Smith's Girl Meets Boy, Salley Vicker's When Three Roads Meet and Su Tong's Binu and The Great Wall.  I really do love these little squat editions, with the discreet Roman numerals on the spine to mark where they fall in the series.  They were a (rather expensive) treat to myself and I don't regret them in the least. 

~~Victoria~~

Comments

[Dorothy W.]

Oh, I'd love to hear what you think of Djuna Barnes! And I'm eagerly awaiting your list of Victorian reading ...

[Imani]

I, on the other hand, am eyeing your Shirley Hazzard novel. I've been meaning to get to her books since I read her Paris Review interview, which was pretty good.

[Trent]

Well, the only book from your list I've read is Moby Dick. Your general impressions of it are the same as those of most Americans. But it's actually quite funny. I approached Moby Dick many years ago as I approached The Brothers Karamazov -- a weighty obligation. But like Brothers, Moby Dick turned out to be a delightful and painless to read. I don't think modern readers find the mixture of forms and styles as befuddling as did early critics of the novel.

[Eloise]

I felt the same about Moby Dick, it was a very daunting prospect but turned out to be one of the most interesting, funny and moving books I've ever read - I didn't want it to end. Hope you enjoy it.

[Lisa the Librarian]

I have seen some of the books from the Myths series individually, but I didn't realize they were part of this larger project. I am anxious to give them a try. I really like the idea. I'm especially anxious to read Margaret Atwood's book.

[Danielle]

I tend to be greedy with my mooch points. When I get a few new points I will use them immediately, but I hate to let myself fall below a certain number. Strange, but it works. I can't always find what I want on bookmooch, but I still manage to get a little stack of books every so often. I think the Barbara Comyns book sounds great--it is on my wishlist. I'm looking forward to hearing what you have to say about it.