1. Dracula 2. The Child in Time 3. Dubliners
1. Dracula by Bram Stoker
A re-read for University. Of course, I loathed the novel when I read it two years ago for my AS English course. Although, thinking of the days where I would be set 50 pages to be read in three days seems like such a luxury....especially when I consider how I had to force myself to plough through it, struggling with the archaic language and the bits of vocab I didn't understand. Ah, to be 16..
Nostalgia aside, this time was not as painful. It's a perfect example of Gothic, and despite my copious amounts of annotations, I still had more to add: certain incidents (The Wierd Sisters, Lucy's deaths and the encounter at the count's London home) are so filled with oppositions and issues that it's understandable that this book has been the subject of so much critical writing.
Of course, between these, the action is often repetitive, and sometimes boring. Lucy's downward spiral, in particular, is dull. The views expressed are symptomatic of their time, so that's understandable, but I sometimes feel Stoker was taking on too much in trying to write so many characters; while Lucy's earlier letters are as twee as you could want, and Johnathan's early entries as ordered as you'd expect, Van Helsing's accented English is really inconsistent, as is Mina's later dialogue. But, my main question is, why exactly IS the point of Quincy Morris? Really, now.
2. The Child in Time by Ian McEwan
I begin to think I prefer McEwan's later writing. This is from the late 80's, and while a really affecting read, there are certain twists and turns that I don't really like, for example, the car crash seems so random, and I never really know why McEwan chooses to include that particular incidents. Of course, what seems random in Darke is understandable since it expresses the main theme well: the contrast between the public(city) life and the private (rural) life is brought to a head in Darke's breakdown. The characters are well written, and while the sections describing Steven's meetings in Whitehall are monotonous, they add to the effect. However, they sometimes seem to grate a little against Steven's concern at loosing his daughter Kate: sections where he is prompted into thought of her work well, but the appearence of the manuscript seems, for want of a better word, sudden.
I can't really explain that. I felt the same while reading The Cement Garden: that some incidents McEwan includes in his earlier works seem unnatural, placed there for reasons I can't fathom. Somehow, the same sort of unpleasant incident presented in Atonement works much better. Perhaps as he continues to write, he's becoming more adept at presenting these occurences?
3. Dubliners by James Joyce
This was quickly read in time for an essay, written and put to one side earlier this week. But, irresistably, I picked it up again and flicked through to re-read some of the ones I personally preferred. An instant re-read is a good sign of my affection for a book, even if the preferences are purely personal.
I was ready to hate Joyce based on reading one chapter of Ulysses, but this has really changed my mind. It's wonderfully written, and you feel like Joyce isn't wasting any word in putting across his view of modern life as empty and numb. This would explain his long battle with editors and printers, but not really why he felt it would "retard the course of civilisation" were it not to be read. Of course, I can't explain why he was quite so arrogant, but I can say that I appreciate well his way of creating a character, of free indirect style, and the showing rather than telling.
I'd say my favourites were Eveline, The Dead, Clay and A Painful Case. Although, that is at a push, and purely because the characters and situations that they deal with appealed to me most: I wouldn't presume to say I would know that they were better-written stories or anything like that.
Up next: more Joyce. I'm not thinking past that, if I'm honest.
(I'm reverting to this style because it's easier. Yes, less detailed, and I do miss my lovely little amazon links, but I want to keep this record this year, and since I often have so little time, this will spur me on, I hope. At this rate, I might read more than 50 books this year. Imagine that!)
A re-read for University. Of course, I loathed the novel when I read it two years ago for my AS English course. Although, thinking of the days where I would be set 50 pages to be read in three days seems like such a luxury....especially when I consider how I had to force myself to plough through it, struggling with the archaic language and the bits of vocab I didn't understand. Ah, to be 16..
Nostalgia aside, this time was not as painful. It's a perfect example of Gothic, and despite my copious amounts of annotations, I still had more to add: certain incidents (The Wierd Sisters, Lucy's deaths and the encounter at the count's London home) are so filled with oppositions and issues that it's understandable that this book has been the subject of so much critical writing.
Of course, between these, the action is often repetitive, and sometimes boring. Lucy's downward spiral, in particular, is dull. The views expressed are symptomatic of their time, so that's understandable, but I sometimes feel Stoker was taking on too much in trying to write so many characters; while Lucy's earlier letters are as twee as you could want, and Johnathan's early entries as ordered as you'd expect, Van Helsing's accented English is really inconsistent, as is Mina's later dialogue. But, my main question is, why exactly IS the point of Quincy Morris? Really, now.
2. The Child in Time by Ian McEwan
I begin to think I prefer McEwan's later writing. This is from the late 80's, and while a really affecting read, there are certain twists and turns that I don't really like, for example, the car crash seems so random, and I never really know why McEwan chooses to include that particular incidents. Of course, what seems random in Darke is understandable since it expresses the main theme well: the contrast between the public(city) life and the private (rural) life is brought to a head in Darke's breakdown. The characters are well written, and while the sections describing Steven's meetings in Whitehall are monotonous, they add to the effect. However, they sometimes seem to grate a little against Steven's concern at loosing his daughter Kate: sections where he is prompted into thought of her work well, but the appearence of the manuscript seems, for want of a better word, sudden.
I can't really explain that. I felt the same while reading The Cement Garden: that some incidents McEwan includes in his earlier works seem unnatural, placed there for reasons I can't fathom. Somehow, the same sort of unpleasant incident presented in Atonement works much better. Perhaps as he continues to write, he's becoming more adept at presenting these occurences?
3. Dubliners by James Joyce
This was quickly read in time for an essay, written and put to one side earlier this week. But, irresistably, I picked it up again and flicked through to re-read some of the ones I personally preferred. An instant re-read is a good sign of my affection for a book, even if the preferences are purely personal.
I was ready to hate Joyce based on reading one chapter of Ulysses, but this has really changed my mind. It's wonderfully written, and you feel like Joyce isn't wasting any word in putting across his view of modern life as empty and numb. This would explain his long battle with editors and printers, but not really why he felt it would "retard the course of civilisation" were it not to be read. Of course, I can't explain why he was quite so arrogant, but I can say that I appreciate well his way of creating a character, of free indirect style, and the showing rather than telling.
I'd say my favourites were Eveline, The Dead, Clay and A Painful Case. Although, that is at a push, and purely because the characters and situations that they deal with appealed to me most: I wouldn't presume to say I would know that they were better-written stories or anything like that.
Up next: more Joyce. I'm not thinking past that, if I'm honest.
(I'm reverting to this style because it's easier. Yes, less detailed, and I do miss my lovely little amazon links, but I want to keep this record this year, and since I often have so little time, this will spur me on, I hope. At this rate, I might read more than 50 books this year. Imagine that!)