Fifty Book Challenge: Books I Read For Class Edition
from austen_icons
Before I proceed to the principal matter of my entry, I know that several of you would be interested to hear this interview in which Terry Pratchett talks about his Alzheimer's. I hope that some of you who expressed concern to me will be a little comforted by it. Basically, it's mostly his ability to type that's being affected, and the disease is not progressing especially fast, and it hasn't interfered with his ability to finish Nation and work on other books as well.
When I started out on my Fifty Book Challenge, I decided I wasn't going to count books I'd read for class. Turns out, I was wrong. Here are five books that I just happened to read for class, but which I would have read or reread on my own anyway.
Believe it or not, I'd read Huck Finn, but I'd never read Tom Sawyer. In a lot of ways, I actually liked it better. No, it doesn't have the Moments of Deep Significance, but it's a great book for the young and for adults who remember what it was like to be young. Mark Twain gets it down perfectly. It's a reminder that children feel things just as deeply as adults, and take very seriously things which adults might not. Tom Sawyer himself is a perfectly lovable character with an especially rich fantasy life. I related to that a lot. Reading the book really, really made me want to watch Tom and Huck, so, if anybody has that...
I suppose, strictly speaking, that Connecticut Yankee was the first Arthurian book I ever read. Not surprisingly, it didn't pique my fascination. It's a patchwork sort of book, with more politics than I would like to see. At the same time, now that I do know the legend, there were lots of parts that were more funny and easier to understand. The chapter about Morgan le Fay was probably my favorite. And I think that at least the first half could be adapted with some tweaking into a good movie. (I haven't actually seen a good "X in King Arthur's Court" movie.) What I found interesting were things that we never discussed in class, actually: Twain could never quite seem to make Arthur into a bad person, no matter how hard he tried; Arthur was still Arthur. What does it say that Merlin's magic turns out to be real after all? What about how Hank ends up being put to sleep in a cave for centuries rather than Merlin? What does it say that everything turned out the same despite Hank's presence? Except Nymue wasn't there-- because Hank was? All fascinating! But I suppose possibly I'd need to be in an Arthurian class to discuss that stuff...
Well, folks, I have read Tom Jones. My horizons have been... widened. NOT LIKE THAT! Truthfully, I really enjoyed Tom Jones a lot-- it was very, genuinely funny. And it's so easy to see how that novel influenced everything that came after it, up to and including Jane Austen. I can just imagine the young Jane Austen sitting there, reading it in amazement because she'd never read anything like it before. Plus, Sophia Western was an actual, competent heroine (which I wrote a paper about). It's a perfect picture of the bridge between the eighteenth century novel and the nineteenth century novel.
Oh, Tristram Shandy. I would like to point out that I read the whole thing, even though it wasn't all assigned. It is important that my readers understand this, because Tristram Shandy is RIDICULOUS. The whole thing is a series of digressions. In a book that claims to be an autobiography, it takes some 300 pages for Tristram to be born. Nothing happens in order. At first, reading it is incredibly, incredibly frustrating. You keep waiting for something to happen, and NOTHING DOES. But... once you relax and just decide to go with the flow, the book actually is really funny sometimes, and pretty touching in others. It's the story of the Shandy family more than of Tristram, and what made Tristram who he is rather than who he is. It's... weird. But, if you ever try to go it (and I don't recommend it for the less-than-hardcore reader), just let go and enjoy the ride. The ride is the whole thing.
The Castle of Otranto is the first Gothic novel of the eighteenth century Gothic surge. It, too, is ridiculous, but not as Tristram Shandy is-- it is horrid in the very best sense of the word. Here is the plot, as far as I can remember. Manfred is the Count or possibly Duke of Otranto. He has a wife and a daughter (Matilda) and a sickly son, Conrad. Because he is obsessed with maintaining his family hold over Otranto, Manfred arranges a marriage between Conrad and Isabella, whose family has perhaps a better claim to Otranto. Then, on the wedding day, Conrad is crushed to death by a mysterious giant helmet falling out of the sky. No, seriously. Then Manfred sees his father's (?) ghost in the hallway, and then he tries to rape Isabella, who meets a convenient young man who helps her escape, but then that young man falls in love with Matilda... And further madness ensues. I won't give it away for you. It's short, it's delightful in its ludicrousness, and if you let yourself be sucked into the "this is a real story" premise, the atmosphere can even make it a little creepy. But most of all: Death by Giant Helmet. Lots of women running around in their nightgowns. Attempted rape and murder. Illegitimate children, secret unions... Oh, Horrid!