WHAT ARE YOU READING RIGHT NOW? (Page 3 of 14)

I just finished My Name is Mary Sutter by Robin Oliveira, about a midwife who longs to be a surgeon in 19th century New York. The American Civil War breaks out, and she joins the nurses. Extremely well-written. Photographic in places. It was a little slow to start, but I love the way the intensity (and detail, and emotion) in the story builds. The Lincoln cameo was EXCELLENT. x

I absolutely would! Thanks! I've never heard of this novel. (Love the title.)

Thoughts? Or are you waiting until you finish? A friend of mine says I was made to read My Brilliant Career by Miles Franklin, a little-known Australian classic from the early 20th century. I'll probably pick up that soon. I've been dipping in and out of a lot of books lately (as only I can). I'd say my main read is a fourth pass through Jane Eyre in an annotated edition which discusses the novel on every page, a bit like our shreds, only rather than going into the mechanics of particular passages, the author discusses how each passage (or many of them) contribute to the story's larger structure. QUITE INTERESTING.

The Girl in the Glass Tower by Elizabeth Fremantle

(only one chapter in, but encouraged by what I've read so far)

Opening lines:

Is the hammering inside my head?

Tap, tap, tap, in the soft place beneath my temple, in the matter where my thoughts live. Something, someone tapping, wants to be heard, to escape.

It is a subtle and prolonged species of torture, this noise, reminding me of the impossibility of freedom.

I am the pane in the window overlooking the courtyard; I am cracked in two places but still manage to hold my form. Through the glass the world is distorted, divided into three parts, each with its own perspective, none of them quite true.

Tap, tap, tap.

It's okay; keeping me reading, but there is not a great deal going on and I'm midway through. It's very much a female read (IMO). Written by a female and the two protagonists are also female. It is the Woman's POV.

That's not a bad thing, I'm not complaining, and I knew what I was in for. History is usually all about the men. The women in history are (traditionally) not given the focus and predominance they deserve. It is refreshing to see/hear the other side of it.

I like Fremantle's prose, it is clear and succinct whilst flowing naturally and is a pleasure to absorb. Her portrayal of Tudor/Elizabethan life is fascinating. I think I prefer it to some of the more highly acclaimed Hilary Mantel stuff. For me Fremantle rolls off the page a little more smoothly and still retains the Tudor period ambiance. Mantle puts you there; right in with her characters (which is great, but can be hard going at times) whilst Fremantle tells a flowing story of her characters.
   
Thumbs up, then.  It'll remain upon my bookshelf this one (and space there is contested, so it is a measure of a book's worth to me, if I feel I need to find the space to retain it).

x

I'm doing okay, thanks. I hope you are thriving too? Lifting heavy things from the sound of it.

The opener is an abstract vignette. Well written, evocative and a little purple for some readers tastes. "Choppy yet poetic" is a great description. There are a few of these passages throughout the novel; not too many. The main body of prose is far less abstract and more functional. It flows well.

We have a clutch of current female writers who write historical fiction set mainly within the Tudor period. The main authors are Hilary Mantel, Elizabeth Fremantle, and of course, the most prolific, Phillipa Gregory. All superb writers. Mantel and Fremantle write in the 3rd person whilst Gregory tackles the subject in 1st person POV.

This is the opener from Philippa Gregory's 'The Taming of the Queen'

           HAMPTON COURT PALACE, SPRING 1543

He stands before me, as broad as an ancient oak, his face like a full moon caught high in the topmost branches, the rolls of creased flesh upturned with goodwill. He leans, and it is as if the tree might topple on me. I stand my ground but I think — surely he's not going to kneel, as another man knelt at my feet, just yesterday, and covered my hands with kisses? But if this mountain of a man ever got down, he would have to be hauled up with ropes, like an ox stuck in a ditch; and besides, he kneels to no-one.

I think, he can't kiss me on the mouth, not here in the long room with musicians at one end and everyone passing by. Surely that can't happen in this mannered court, surely this big moon face will not come down on mine. I stare up at the man that my mother and all her friends once adored as the handsomest in England, the king that every girl dreamed of, and I whisper a prayer that he did not say the words he just said. Absurdly, I pray that I misheard him.

In confident silence, he waits for my assent. I realise: this is how it will be from now until death us do part, he will wait for my assent or continue without it. I will have to marry this man who looms larger and stands higher than anyone else. He is above mortals, a heavenly body just below angels: the King of England. `I am so surprised by the honour,' I stammer. The pursed pout of his little mouth widens into a smile. I can see the yellowing teeth and smell his old-dog breath.
   ........

I like the character she injects into the voice.

I've finished David Copperfield finally. LOVED it. I'll just copy & paste what I wrote on Goodreads, if everyone will pardon me:

"I've spent several weeks slowly reading through this book. If it weren't for A Christmas Carol, this would be my favorite by Dickens. It's a long book. A sink back and feel cozy book. Little David finds himself alone in the world, half-heartedly and cruelly raised by a horrific man named Murdstone. He's sent to boarding school and the guy who runs the place is horrible to little boys, and then the really respected kid at the school (Steerforth) befriends little David, and he has to stay up nearly all night reciting books to him.

The dramatic question seems to be -- will this poor little fellow thrive despite his awful circumstances, and keep his heart, and if so, how? Dickens answers this question by the end of the book, but the novel isn't tightly plotted. It's more a series of plots involving characters who have passed through or contributed to David's life, while he steadily goes on, loving some, appalled by some, and slapping one square in the face. Much of the novel is spent sitting in rooms with incredibly weird and hilarious characters, visiting, discussing the past, and trying to relate to one another the goings-on off the page.

I loved little David. He's so quiet and kind and observant. I pretty much wanted to scoop him up and hug him for the whole first half of the book. I didn't find the second half of the book as interesting, because I think some of the pathos is lost when David grows up. I still care what happens, but not in a "come and give me a hug, you poor little fellow" kind of way. But it is good to see him grow up, and I love that we're with him for so long. The tension is pretty much gone by the second half of the book. There are all sorts of plot twists with other characters, but they're almost always delivered to the reader after the fact in conversation.

There are a wealth of incredible characters in this novel, and that's (for me) what makes this book quite excellent. I LOVE Aunt Trotwood. She is so smart and kind, and possibly my favorite Dickens character so far. DO NOT CROSS HER LAWN ON A DONKEY. I love waiting for what she'll say next. I also like Mr. Micawber. He always has to write everything in a dignified and long-winded letter -- even something mundane like "pass the salt." Mrs. Micawber will NEVER LEAVE MR. MICAWBER. Also, the villain in the story! He's very 'umble. Mrs. Gummidge. And Dora. She's so sweet and well-meaning. She wants so much to be what she isn't. I love the scene where she sits with David as he writes, so happy to hold the pen for him. Agnes is also a great character. I love that David craves her rational mind in his life.

In conclusion, I loved the book! I'm glad I spent several weeks with it, but I'm a little sad to say goodbye. I've been with the characters for so long. This novel is about the people who made David. The people who helped him, changed him, held him up, and pushed him forward. Just typing that makes me a little teary-eyed. x

(Also, Mr. Dickens should have written a whole novel starring Aunt Trotwood.)"

Now I'm beginning Middlemarch by George Eliot, and per our conversation (above) about novels on historical women, I'm reading Mary: Mrs. A. Lincoln by Janis Cooke Newman. So far it is fabulous! The story leaps off the page. Voice? Yes.

Here's the description from Goodreads:

"Mary Todd Lincoln is one of history’s most misunderstood and enigmatic women. The first president’s wife to be called First Lady, she was a political strategist, a supporter of emancipation, and a mother who survived the loss of three children and the assassination of her beloved husband. Yet she also ran her family into debt, held seances in the White House, and was committed to an insane asylum. In Janis Cooke Newman’s debut novel, Mary Todd Lincoln shares the story of her life in her own words. Writing from Bellevue Place asylum, she takes readers from her tempestuous childhood in a slaveholding Southern family through the years after her husband’s death. A dramatic tale filled with passion and depression, poverty and ridicule, infidelity and redemption, Mary allows us entry into the inner, intimate world of this brave and fascinating woman."

x

Correction. In 'The Girl in the Glass Tower' Elizabeth Fremantle writes the story from two protagonists POV. She writes one POV (that of Princess Arbella Stuart) in the 1st person and this is interleaved with the POV of Aemilia Lanyer which is written in the 3rd person.

Very effective technique and an enjoyable novel.

And a GREAT twist in the tail. Totally worth the read for that ending.

How very dare you ruin my topic with your pigs arses?

“Certainly nothing at present could seem much less important to Lydgate than the turn of Miss Brooke's mind, or to Miss Brooke than the qualities of the woman who had attracted this young surgeon. But any one watching keenly the stealthy convergence of human lots, sees a slow preparation of effects from one life on another, which tells like a calculated irony on the indifference or the frozen stare with which we look at our unintroduced neighbor. Destiny stands by sarcastic with our dramatis personae folded in her hand.”
― George Eliot, Middlemarch

(Still reading! It's a brick!) :-)