This year's Booker prizewinner, "The Luminaries", by Eleanor Catton, made history as being the longest yet, at 832 pages. It also made headlines because she is, at 28, the youngest author ever to win the prize.
It is indeed a weighty tome. I got it out of the library to preview, as one of the members of the book-group I have just joined was threatening, (others protested vehemently), to select it as book choice for her next turn.
Oh, the wordiness of it! At a creative writing group I've joined, we are told to "Show Not Tell". E. Catton persists in lengthy boring descriptions, both of the characters' external visage and their interior psychology. We are supposed to show the latter by dialogue. The former, as in Jane Austen, is supposed to be inferred by the reactions of others. Here's an example of the verbosity, not to say pomposity, of the language. (I've researched copyright, and a quote for illustrative purposes is all right if it is short in proportion to the length of the work as a whole. My selection fits that measure).
"Balfour's will was too strong to admit philosophy, unless it was of the soundest empirical sort; his liberality could make no sense of despair, which was to him as a fathomless shaft, possessed of depth but not of breadth, stifled in its isolation, navigable only by touch, and starved of any kind of any curiosity."
A further three sentences of about the same length and density, continue the paragraph, which basically adds zilch, tiddly squat, to my mental picture of Balfour. This is on page 32. You are supposed to carry on for another 800 pages. Life is too short.
Now compare a sentence from a book by Penelope Fitzgerald. A friend, anticipating the new biography of this author (by Hermione Lee if anyone is interested), lent me a book by PF. Fitzgerald won the Booker prize in 1979 with "Offshore". Amazon reviewers praise this winner for being brief, incisive, elegant, if a little too short. The book my friend passed on to me was called "The Bookshop", (a subject guaranteed to attract my interest). It was published in 1978 and made the Booker Prize final list. It is a short book, subtle and sharp.
"The Bookshop", elegantly written but leaving ultimately a very sad after-taste, is set in coastal Suffolk. A woman opens a bookshop. Here is a sample sentence. "She was held back by an urgent hand, and addressed by a man, not young, in a corduroy jacket, smiling as a toad does, because it has no other expression."
I have time to read another book by this author!
Monday, 9 December 2013
Tuesday, 3 December 2013
Book Groups (Dilemma Resolved)
I have now joined a book group. Watch this space for more details. Now I will have to read books chosen by other people, as well as following my fancy. I think it will be good for me.
Monday, 11 November 2013
More About Wolf Hall
Recently, Hilary Mantel was the guest on Radio 4's Book Club. Book Club is a lovely Sunday afternoon treat, ideal for those replete and resting off a large Sunday lunch indoors on a winter day, perhaps while ironing. Jim Naughty (pronounced Knockerty, for any foreign readers visiting here), was the interviewer. He kicked off with the question, "What inspired you to write "Wolf Hall"?
Hilary, bless her, answered, in her tremulous, slightly squeaky voice, that she had been visiting an Elizabethan house. It was the home, and was first built by, one of the protégés of Thomas Cromwell, by the name of Ralph, or Rafe Sadler (or Sadleir - Tudor spellings vary). Ralph is a historic, real-life character in "Wolf Hall" and "Bring up the Bodies". He did well for himself, learning much from his mentor Cromwell, who in his turn had learnt much from his own mentor, Cardinal Wolsey. Ralph built the house when he moved out from the Cromwell multi-generation and multi-occupancy household, to what was then a small country village three miles east of London.
Hilary said that she was so overcome by the Tudor brickwork, tiled floors, wood panelling and cracks in the plaster, that she burst into tears, and immediately started imagining her Tudor stories.
"And," she wound up, triumphantly, "It's still there!"
As soon as the programme ended, I looked the house up in the National Trust handbook. As I suspected, it is a NT house, and open to the public all the year round. Quickly, I arranged a meeting with my friend of longstanding, who shares just about all my interests, and we went down to London on Saturday to visit Sutton House, NT, Hackney.
It was pouring with rain, and we struggled along the High Street, deafened by traffic and police sirens. Hackney is now an uber-urban environment. We were disappointed that the café inside offered only one type of cake, and we were tired.
Unfortunately, beautiful though Sutton House undoubtedly is, we just could not access the atmosphere which had enchanted Hilary Mantel. However, don't let that put you off. It is well worth a visit if you are at all interested in the novels.
Hilary, bless her, answered, in her tremulous, slightly squeaky voice, that she had been visiting an Elizabethan house. It was the home, and was first built by, one of the protégés of Thomas Cromwell, by the name of Ralph, or Rafe Sadler (or Sadleir - Tudor spellings vary). Ralph is a historic, real-life character in "Wolf Hall" and "Bring up the Bodies". He did well for himself, learning much from his mentor Cromwell, who in his turn had learnt much from his own mentor, Cardinal Wolsey. Ralph built the house when he moved out from the Cromwell multi-generation and multi-occupancy household, to what was then a small country village three miles east of London.
Hilary said that she was so overcome by the Tudor brickwork, tiled floors, wood panelling and cracks in the plaster, that she burst into tears, and immediately started imagining her Tudor stories.
"And," she wound up, triumphantly, "It's still there!"
As soon as the programme ended, I looked the house up in the National Trust handbook. As I suspected, it is a NT house, and open to the public all the year round. Quickly, I arranged a meeting with my friend of longstanding, who shares just about all my interests, and we went down to London on Saturday to visit Sutton House, NT, Hackney.
It was pouring with rain, and we struggled along the High Street, deafened by traffic and police sirens. Hackney is now an uber-urban environment. We were disappointed that the café inside offered only one type of cake, and we were tired.
Unfortunately, beautiful though Sutton House undoubtedly is, we just could not access the atmosphere which had enchanted Hilary Mantel. However, don't let that put you off. It is well worth a visit if you are at all interested in the novels.
Monday, 21 October 2013
Nursery Rhymes
I've discovered a lovely new cake and baking blog. See below.
http://gingerbreadlad.blogspot.co.uk/
I found this via the blog of a reading and writing site, The Arvon Foundation.
As with another of my favourites, the Caked Crusader , the writing and the pictures are superb, and I totally trust the recipes. (I seldom make cakes these days, but the ones I have made from CC's blog have received universal praise and approval).
I haven't yet tried anything from GBL, but found his post on Yorkshire Curd Tart fascinating because it tells you how to make your own curds.
As follows:
Make the curds by gently heating the milk, and once it reaches a steady boil add the lemon juice. Turn down the heat and watch the curds form, you can gently stir to help steady it along. Once you have lumps floating in liquid take off the heat and leave to cool. Drain the liquid (which is the whey) through a tea towel over a container so that you catch the curds in the tea towel and can keep the whey. Allow to strain in the fridge over night.
This is useful, because I have, on the few occasions when I have bought curd cheese, been disappointed with the results.
It is also interesting because it brings a new perspective on the old nursery rhyme, Little Miss Muffet. (Who, it will be remembered, sat on a tuffet, "eating her curds and whey").
While on the subject of Nursery Rhymes, I had sudden insight moment this morning.
I have been up since 5.30 am, and done washing, drying, ironing, stripping and remaking bed, plus emptying bins and sorting all recycling, all before 8.00 am.
I know who the elves were, in "The Elves and the Shoemaker". It was the shoemaker's wife or his mum, of course. Who did all the work before the shoemaker got up.
http://gingerbreadlad.blogspot.co.uk/
I found this via the blog of a reading and writing site, The Arvon Foundation.
As with another of my favourites, the Caked Crusader , the writing and the pictures are superb, and I totally trust the recipes. (I seldom make cakes these days, but the ones I have made from CC's blog have received universal praise and approval).
I haven't yet tried anything from GBL, but found his post on Yorkshire Curd Tart fascinating because it tells you how to make your own curds.
As follows:
Make the curds by gently heating the milk, and once it reaches a steady boil add the lemon juice. Turn down the heat and watch the curds form, you can gently stir to help steady it along. Once you have lumps floating in liquid take off the heat and leave to cool. Drain the liquid (which is the whey) through a tea towel over a container so that you catch the curds in the tea towel and can keep the whey. Allow to strain in the fridge over night.
This is useful, because I have, on the few occasions when I have bought curd cheese, been disappointed with the results.
It is also interesting because it brings a new perspective on the old nursery rhyme, Little Miss Muffet. (Who, it will be remembered, sat on a tuffet, "eating her curds and whey").
While on the subject of Nursery Rhymes, I had sudden insight moment this morning.
I have been up since 5.30 am, and done washing, drying, ironing, stripping and remaking bed, plus emptying bins and sorting all recycling, all before 8.00 am.
I know who the elves were, in "The Elves and the Shoemaker". It was the shoemaker's wife or his mum, of course. Who did all the work before the shoemaker got up.
Sunday, 13 October 2013
Can We Talk About Book Groups
Since my almost complete retirement from work (I continue to work two mornings a week), I find I need to get out more and talk to people during the day. My long hours of poring over books, while completely gratifying and absorbing, do leave me somewhat isolated.
Should I join a book group?
I talked to two friends of similar age and background about this subject.
One has been in a book group for several years, but often complains about the poor choices of the other members.
"I do find it a pain, to read some of the books," she said. ""And sometimes I feel that they feel the same about my choice of book. I feel a bit paranoid about that."
My other friend is not in a book group, but told me that she imagined that it would be a bore having to read other people's choices. Much the same response, in fact, although envisaged rather than experienced.
My second friend (who has a degree in English Literature), also said that she worried that she would take too highbrow an approach, and that this might be a problem if she wanted to bond with other members.
I agreed that it might, and thought that possibly it could be resolved by saying as little as possible.
The obvious consequence of that tactic would be to negate the purpose of joining the group! ie to talk about books with other book addicts.
What do other people think about book groups?
Should I join a book group?
I talked to two friends of similar age and background about this subject.
One has been in a book group for several years, but often complains about the poor choices of the other members.
"I do find it a pain, to read some of the books," she said. ""And sometimes I feel that they feel the same about my choice of book. I feel a bit paranoid about that."
My other friend is not in a book group, but told me that she imagined that it would be a bore having to read other people's choices. Much the same response, in fact, although envisaged rather than experienced.
My second friend (who has a degree in English Literature), also said that she worried that she would take too highbrow an approach, and that this might be a problem if she wanted to bond with other members.
I agreed that it might, and thought that possibly it could be resolved by saying as little as possible.
The obvious consequence of that tactic would be to negate the purpose of joining the group! ie to talk about books with other book addicts.
What do other people think about book groups?
Wednesday, 2 October 2013
Tips on How to Read Wolf Hall
I don't know anyone who has finished "Wolf Hall". Most of my friends (as you would expect) are avid readers, but all of them say things like: " I couldn't follow it", or "You didn't know who was who, or who was speaking", or simply "I found it unreadable".
Finally, four years after publication (Wolf Hall won the Man Booker Prize in 2009), and three years after I bought and stashed away my hardback copy, it has at last reached the top of my "to-read" pile.
First tip - Read "Bring Up the Bodies" first. (Thanks are due for this tip to my young friend and ex-work-colleague who took a first in History, but still couldn't make it through WH). She said that BUTB is easier, and I certainly agree with her. I didn't have any problems with it and it eased me into the mind-set of the author's way of writing, and her intentions. Also, I was disappointed when it ended, and therefore actively looking forward to reading WH. Although WH comes first, of course, and BUTB follows on, both chronologically and in the author's order of writing.
Second tip- Watch "The White Queen" first, and read at least one of the four novels on which the series is based. You don't need to read all of them because they each take a different character's point of view of essentially the same events. Maybe not "The Lady of the Rivers", though, because that one is slightly earlier in time. The best two books in my opinion are "The Red Queen" and "The White Queen".
The reason for my second tip is as follows:
Philippa Gregory's historical novels are much, much easier to read than WH or BUTB, and you can easily get into the period via these novels. The period of course being the one immediately prior to the Tudors. In fact Henry VIII's father, Henry Tudor, is a major character in the Philippa Gregory series. You get to know him, and his extremely stubborn, single-minded and obsessive mother, Margaret Beaufort. Don't forget she was H8's grandmother on the Lancaster, (or Red) side. And they introduce you to his grandfather (on the York side, the white side of the Tudor Rose). This was Edward IV, and once you have met him, you see how much H8 took after him. Physically, both were very tall, very golden, very good-looking, very charming, and very athletic and strong - in their youth. Both put on weight, ran to fat, and became more self-centred and ruthless in middle age.
A further crucial similarity is that Edward IV, controversially, married an English commoner, for love. And even more interestingly, that particular woman refused to be his mistress, and held out for marriage or nothing. And another similarity is that the existence of a "pre-contract" or earlier marriage (which happened before the one universally recognised), later emerged as a reason why the public marriage was declared legally invalid. And when it did emerge, the children of the public marriage were declared to be bastards. And someone else took the throne on that presumption. (The infamous Richard III, but I am not going there).
So all that sets the scene, and gives a background for the character and behaviour of H8, and the background of civil unrest and war which explains the ruthlessness of the Tudors in executing anyone who set up as a rival claimant to the throne. The history of the "Wars of the Roses" and the "Princes in the Tower" also explain the Tudors' absolute obsession with the production of adult male heirs.
Third tip - Read and study the family trees which are laid out at the beginning of WH, and insert pencilled notes about the characters based on what you have learned from the study of the "Wars of the Roses" period. Keep a bookmark in the family trees page, and refer to it as often as needed.
Fourth tip - Have some history books to hand. My recommendations are as follows:
"The House of Tudor" by Alison Plowden. This gives an excellent overview of each of the Tudor monarchs as they follow on from the Plantagenets, and has further helpful family trees.
"The Six Wives of Henry VIII" by Antonia Fraser. The really excellent and meticulous fact-gathering of this work help you to navigate through the politics both national, international and religious. You can use the index to help you sort out the many Thomas's appearing in WH. You can look up the differences between Thomas Wolsey, Thomas Cranmer (both churchmen) and Thomas Cromwell, (linked to both, and the central persona of WH and BUTB).
In a similar vein, the last of the Plantagenets are confusingly called "The Poles", (descended from George Duke of Clarence, he who drowned in the butt of Malmesy wine), and the "de la Poles" (descended from a sister of Edward IV, also sister to Clarence and Richard III). You can look these names up in the history books to clarify who is who, and amend the family trees with further information.
Antonia Fraser's chapters on Anne Boleyn herself recount many of the events described in Wolf Hall, in the same order, so you can go there for verification of what is going on. And lastly, perhaps most importantly, Antonia Fraser gives impeccable reference notes, and lists her sources exhaustively. So, for example, you learn that Wriothesley, an irritating minor character in WH and BUTB, has a cousin who is the author of a "Chronicle of England" and hence a source. Likewise, the rather shadowy minor character George Cavendish, Wolsey's servant, turns out to have written a biography of Wolsey which is heavily used by AF as a source document. This is heaven for a person who likes checking things. Novels, of course, don't have an index!
Fifth tip - don't read it as a page-turner - it isn't. Take your time. Savour the language, and the historic detail, which you will recognise from the history books. Enjoy the "inside" knowledge which you are gleaning, ostensibly from the mind of the person there at the time, Thomas Cromwell, but in fact from works of history and the benefit of hindsight. Enjoy this god-like feeling of both knowing what is going to happen next, and having an imaginative insight into the thoughts and feelings of those present at the scene. This is where Hilary Mantel really excels. Her imagination recreates scenes with such realism, but simultaneously with such emotion and feeling - the latter qualities of course are completely absent from sixteenth century historical records. It is this skill which, I think, is what makes people feel sad when they have finished the book, and thirst for more.
As I did after finishing "Bring up the Bodies".
Finally, four years after publication (Wolf Hall won the Man Booker Prize in 2009), and three years after I bought and stashed away my hardback copy, it has at last reached the top of my "to-read" pile.
First tip - Read "Bring Up the Bodies" first. (Thanks are due for this tip to my young friend and ex-work-colleague who took a first in History, but still couldn't make it through WH). She said that BUTB is easier, and I certainly agree with her. I didn't have any problems with it and it eased me into the mind-set of the author's way of writing, and her intentions. Also, I was disappointed when it ended, and therefore actively looking forward to reading WH. Although WH comes first, of course, and BUTB follows on, both chronologically and in the author's order of writing.
Second tip- Watch "The White Queen" first, and read at least one of the four novels on which the series is based. You don't need to read all of them because they each take a different character's point of view of essentially the same events. Maybe not "The Lady of the Rivers", though, because that one is slightly earlier in time. The best two books in my opinion are "The Red Queen" and "The White Queen".
The reason for my second tip is as follows:
Philippa Gregory's historical novels are much, much easier to read than WH or BUTB, and you can easily get into the period via these novels. The period of course being the one immediately prior to the Tudors. In fact Henry VIII's father, Henry Tudor, is a major character in the Philippa Gregory series. You get to know him, and his extremely stubborn, single-minded and obsessive mother, Margaret Beaufort. Don't forget she was H8's grandmother on the Lancaster, (or Red) side. And they introduce you to his grandfather (on the York side, the white side of the Tudor Rose). This was Edward IV, and once you have met him, you see how much H8 took after him. Physically, both were very tall, very golden, very good-looking, very charming, and very athletic and strong - in their youth. Both put on weight, ran to fat, and became more self-centred and ruthless in middle age.
A further crucial similarity is that Edward IV, controversially, married an English commoner, for love. And even more interestingly, that particular woman refused to be his mistress, and held out for marriage or nothing. And another similarity is that the existence of a "pre-contract" or earlier marriage (which happened before the one universally recognised), later emerged as a reason why the public marriage was declared legally invalid. And when it did emerge, the children of the public marriage were declared to be bastards. And someone else took the throne on that presumption. (The infamous Richard III, but I am not going there).
So all that sets the scene, and gives a background for the character and behaviour of H8, and the background of civil unrest and war which explains the ruthlessness of the Tudors in executing anyone who set up as a rival claimant to the throne. The history of the "Wars of the Roses" and the "Princes in the Tower" also explain the Tudors' absolute obsession with the production of adult male heirs.
Third tip - Read and study the family trees which are laid out at the beginning of WH, and insert pencilled notes about the characters based on what you have learned from the study of the "Wars of the Roses" period. Keep a bookmark in the family trees page, and refer to it as often as needed.
Fourth tip - Have some history books to hand. My recommendations are as follows:
"The House of Tudor" by Alison Plowden. This gives an excellent overview of each of the Tudor monarchs as they follow on from the Plantagenets, and has further helpful family trees.
"The Six Wives of Henry VIII" by Antonia Fraser. The really excellent and meticulous fact-gathering of this work help you to navigate through the politics both national, international and religious. You can use the index to help you sort out the many Thomas's appearing in WH. You can look up the differences between Thomas Wolsey, Thomas Cranmer (both churchmen) and Thomas Cromwell, (linked to both, and the central persona of WH and BUTB).
In a similar vein, the last of the Plantagenets are confusingly called "The Poles", (descended from George Duke of Clarence, he who drowned in the butt of Malmesy wine), and the "de la Poles" (descended from a sister of Edward IV, also sister to Clarence and Richard III). You can look these names up in the history books to clarify who is who, and amend the family trees with further information.
Antonia Fraser's chapters on Anne Boleyn herself recount many of the events described in Wolf Hall, in the same order, so you can go there for verification of what is going on. And lastly, perhaps most importantly, Antonia Fraser gives impeccable reference notes, and lists her sources exhaustively. So, for example, you learn that Wriothesley, an irritating minor character in WH and BUTB, has a cousin who is the author of a "Chronicle of England" and hence a source. Likewise, the rather shadowy minor character George Cavendish, Wolsey's servant, turns out to have written a biography of Wolsey which is heavily used by AF as a source document. This is heaven for a person who likes checking things. Novels, of course, don't have an index!
Fifth tip - don't read it as a page-turner - it isn't. Take your time. Savour the language, and the historic detail, which you will recognise from the history books. Enjoy the "inside" knowledge which you are gleaning, ostensibly from the mind of the person there at the time, Thomas Cromwell, but in fact from works of history and the benefit of hindsight. Enjoy this god-like feeling of both knowing what is going to happen next, and having an imaginative insight into the thoughts and feelings of those present at the scene. This is where Hilary Mantel really excels. Her imagination recreates scenes with such realism, but simultaneously with such emotion and feeling - the latter qualities of course are completely absent from sixteenth century historical records. It is this skill which, I think, is what makes people feel sad when they have finished the book, and thirst for more.
As I did after finishing "Bring up the Bodies".
Sunday, 1 September 2013
Reading for Information
A dear friend came to stay and we visited Belton House (National Trust, Lincolnshire).
Following the obligatory cream tea, and a stroll round the beautiful gardens, we visited the house itself.
We both like reading captions anywhere we see them.
One of the portraits, of a lovely young woman circa 18th century, informed us that she died, at 23, of a "putrid fever caused by body lice".
We were absolutely horrified. This was the wife of an earl, living in stately splendour, with many servants (41 in the house's heyday, to run the house and garden).
"Ah," we exclaimed in unison, "This is why we are so obsessed with cleaning!"
Both of us have visited adult daughters and been horrified by the disgusting state of their apartments.
Last time she visited her daughter, they went out for breakfast, because my friend couldn't face eating in the shared kitchen of the flat.
"So," we agreed, "This is folk history and inherited instinct passed down to us by our mothers, to keep things clean for the benefit of health."
We were kind of sad that, with antibiotics and other remedies available, the youth of today does not feel the same anxiety.
Following the obligatory cream tea, and a stroll round the beautiful gardens, we visited the house itself.
We both like reading captions anywhere we see them.
One of the portraits, of a lovely young woman circa 18th century, informed us that she died, at 23, of a "putrid fever caused by body lice".
We were absolutely horrified. This was the wife of an earl, living in stately splendour, with many servants (41 in the house's heyday, to run the house and garden).
"Ah," we exclaimed in unison, "This is why we are so obsessed with cleaning!"
Both of us have visited adult daughters and been horrified by the disgusting state of their apartments.
Last time she visited her daughter, they went out for breakfast, because my friend couldn't face eating in the shared kitchen of the flat.
"So," we agreed, "This is folk history and inherited instinct passed down to us by our mothers, to keep things clean for the benefit of health."
We were kind of sad that, with antibiotics and other remedies available, the youth of today does not feel the same anxiety.
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