She somewhat rolls off the platform
I finished Dorian Gray today. I thought it got sort of sluggish around the middle (it was sort of sluggish for most of it, actually), but it ended well. Predictable in its own way, but it really couldn't have ended otherwise, and overall it wasn't bad for a first and only novel. Most of my quibbles with it were from it having so much of what was obviously Wilde in it, as well as just being incredibly Victorian. Not that I have anything against Victorian authors, mind - they just have a tendency to babble on for pages about irrelevancies.
Now, I really only say all that to get it out of the way, because the reason I'm even writing this is simply to have an outlet for how supremely happy Maurice made me. Which, yeah, I know, you're thinking I only liked it for teh gay and without that it wouldn't be any different than any other love story, BUT NO. I mean, yes, it is a romance, eventually, but it's much more about society in general and English society specifically and it's just so emotional all the way through, a proper roller coaster when so many stories merely try to achieve that, and gosh is it uplifting for making you go through all that turmoil.
...ok, maybe the gayness has more than a little to do with it. Like I said earlier on somewhere, I'm sort of ruined for het romances in any medium, simply because no one's thought of a way to make theirs unique again, and gayness does have that novelty about it. There's just something so much more touching to me about those stories, especially in time periods where it wasn't even understood, let alone accepted. (Broadly speaking; I'm well aware that homosexuality is still unacceptable in a great variety of places.) And to have a story where love goes wrong so many times, and the protagonist fights against his very being, and then has a happy ending? That pulls at my heart more than any so-called "traditional" romance ever could.
But back to the book. I'm thinking Edwardian literature is where I truly belong. I know that's being terrifically ignorant, because there are good authors in every era, but something about the restraint of that society and what it brings about in the English language fascinates and delights me. When I picked up Maurice this afternoon, I had no idea if I'd find it readable, let alone that it would trip along so easily I'd have it finished in a few hours. Fantastic surprise, I can tell you. And then there's so much pleasure just in comparing this book to Wodehouse, because it really is two sides of one disturbingly class-conscious coin. Wodehouse's England is necessarily ideal, because it only existed (if it can be said to have ever existed) for a handful of years at most. As such, there is no mention of the seedier bits of life which make life life. Maurice, however, lets you in on what was actually going down, and it's fun to wonder what the respective characters would make of the others' world.
Anyway, I'm losing my point, so I'll just conclude that Maurice was wonderful. I remember reading A Passage to India in 10th grade, and the only part that actually touched me was that bit in the end where the Indian and the Englishman are riding horses through the wild, and the Englishman says can't they still be friends, after all that's happened, and the Indian replies that they can never be friends until India is no longer ruled by England, and even though they both want that, the wind and the trees seem to whisper "not yet." Something like that, at any rate. And I thought it was absolutely beautiful. I suppose I was slashing them without realizing it, but even beyond that, the tragedy of their friendship was perfectly affecting. I will admit, however, to being completely indifferent to E. M. Forster since then, so I'm glad to have given him a go again. I'm realizing this summer that my old literary prejudices simply aren't holding anymore, and I'm a little giddy at the thought of discovering all that I've passed over. Well, I still don't think there'll be any great love between me and sci-fi, but I'm sort of hopeful for trying on Cryptonomicon once more.
Last little random thing: a lot of the time, when I had to read "Maurice" in the text, I would automatically hear Morris from AbsPower saying "Maurice, monsieur", followed by Stephen saying something cutting that ends with "Morris" said with absolute disgust, followed by Morris saying "Oui, monsieur." Terribly distracting. A similar thing happened when encountering "Clive", which I'd hear preceded by the word "young" and pronounced in a clipped sort of manner. Canon in-jokes will do that to me. Just for surroundings' sake, I'll note that I've only got three episodes of series 4 and the 2006 special remaining, a fact which fills me with sadness and remorse. I do so love that show.
Anywho, swimming's coming back at some point, and I need to not be on the computer for that, so I'm signing off. Good night!
Now, I really only say all that to get it out of the way, because the reason I'm even writing this is simply to have an outlet for how supremely happy Maurice made me. Which, yeah, I know, you're thinking I only liked it for teh gay and without that it wouldn't be any different than any other love story, BUT NO. I mean, yes, it is a romance, eventually, but it's much more about society in general and English society specifically and it's just so emotional all the way through, a proper roller coaster when so many stories merely try to achieve that, and gosh is it uplifting for making you go through all that turmoil.
...ok, maybe the gayness has more than a little to do with it. Like I said earlier on somewhere, I'm sort of ruined for het romances in any medium, simply because no one's thought of a way to make theirs unique again, and gayness does have that novelty about it. There's just something so much more touching to me about those stories, especially in time periods where it wasn't even understood, let alone accepted. (Broadly speaking; I'm well aware that homosexuality is still unacceptable in a great variety of places.) And to have a story where love goes wrong so many times, and the protagonist fights against his very being, and then has a happy ending? That pulls at my heart more than any so-called "traditional" romance ever could.
But back to the book. I'm thinking Edwardian literature is where I truly belong. I know that's being terrifically ignorant, because there are good authors in every era, but something about the restraint of that society and what it brings about in the English language fascinates and delights me. When I picked up Maurice this afternoon, I had no idea if I'd find it readable, let alone that it would trip along so easily I'd have it finished in a few hours. Fantastic surprise, I can tell you. And then there's so much pleasure just in comparing this book to Wodehouse, because it really is two sides of one disturbingly class-conscious coin. Wodehouse's England is necessarily ideal, because it only existed (if it can be said to have ever existed) for a handful of years at most. As such, there is no mention of the seedier bits of life which make life life. Maurice, however, lets you in on what was actually going down, and it's fun to wonder what the respective characters would make of the others' world.
Anyway, I'm losing my point, so I'll just conclude that Maurice was wonderful. I remember reading A Passage to India in 10th grade, and the only part that actually touched me was that bit in the end where the Indian and the Englishman are riding horses through the wild, and the Englishman says can't they still be friends, after all that's happened, and the Indian replies that they can never be friends until India is no longer ruled by England, and even though they both want that, the wind and the trees seem to whisper "not yet." Something like that, at any rate. And I thought it was absolutely beautiful. I suppose I was slashing them without realizing it, but even beyond that, the tragedy of their friendship was perfectly affecting. I will admit, however, to being completely indifferent to E. M. Forster since then, so I'm glad to have given him a go again. I'm realizing this summer that my old literary prejudices simply aren't holding anymore, and I'm a little giddy at the thought of discovering all that I've passed over. Well, I still don't think there'll be any great love between me and sci-fi, but I'm sort of hopeful for trying on Cryptonomicon once more.
Last little random thing: a lot of the time, when I had to read "Maurice" in the text, I would automatically hear Morris from AbsPower saying "Maurice, monsieur", followed by Stephen saying something cutting that ends with "Morris" said with absolute disgust, followed by Morris saying "Oui, monsieur." Terribly distracting. A similar thing happened when encountering "Clive", which I'd hear preceded by the word "young" and pronounced in a clipped sort of manner. Canon in-jokes will do that to me. Just for surroundings' sake, I'll note that I've only got three episodes of series 4 and the 2006 special remaining, a fact which fills me with sadness and remorse. I do so love that show.
Anywho, swimming's coming back at some point, and I need to not be on the computer for that, so I'm signing off. Good night!