The Classics Club: Meme #7

This month, The Classics Club is asking us what book has surprised us the most so far, and why. I'm somewhat ashamed to confess that even though I'm making steady progress with my Classics Club reading list, so far I have finished two books only: Fadette by George Sand and The Danube Pilot by Jules Verne. However, I am currently reading three classics on my list concurrently: Pollyanna by Eleanor H. Porter, Ballet Shoes by Noel Straitfeild, and The History of Tom Jones by Henry Fielding. From these five books, I would say The History of Tom Jones has surprised me the most so far.

The History of Tom Jones, A Foundling (1997)

It is not for the first time that I read Fielding's novel, but it has been so many years since the last time I read it that I didn't have a vivid memory of it. I just remembered the love story and the mystery surrounding Tom Jones's birth. I also remembered that Henry Fielding has a very funny writing style and that I used to laugh out laud while I had been reading it. But, it completely slipped my mind that The History of Tom Jones is not a simple love story but a moral treatise and a powerful discourse on literature in general and on good fiction in particular. Now, I also understand why Germaine de Staël, in her Essay on Fictions, spoke about this novel in the following terms: Fielding’s Tom Jones is “one of the most useful, most deservedly famous of all novels,” because “love appears in it as only one of many means of showing the philosophical result” (Major Writings of Germaine de Staël, p. 74). For these reasons, The History of Tom Jones is not as easy a reading as I thought it would be. Nevertheless, I enjoy reading it, even if it takes much more time to finish it than I expected.

The Classics Club: Meme #6

This month, The Classics Club asked us what the best book was that we had read so far for The Classics Club and why.  As I confessed at the beginning of this year, I haven’t made much progress with my Classics Club list so far. To be more specific, I’ve only read one book until now—namely, George Sand’s Fadette. I also have been reading The History of Tom Jones by Henry Fielding since October 2012, but I’m not done reading it yet. Nevertheless, if you have been following me and have read my first review for the Classics Club, it will probably be rather obvious to you that, as regards these two classics, my heart is leaning toward Fadette.

La petite Fadette (2004)

As I explained in my review, I love Fadette because even though it’s a short and simply written sentimental novel with an uncomplicated plot, it puts across valuable ideas about how to live life, about true love and friendship, and genuine faith. In addition, this book reflects George Sand’s rather positive view of human nature, despite the fact that at the time of writing her novel, France had experienced the horrors of civil war. Correspondingly, this novel contains everything that a romantic heart would and could wish for: characters who are able and willing to improve themselves, love between two lovable humans, and a happy ending. Those are the main reasons why I rated this book with five cherries and why it is a particular favourite of mine.

The Classics Club: Meme #5

In December, The Classics Club asked us about our favourite memory of Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol and whether we have ever read it. We should also explain why others should read the novel rather than relying on the film adaptions.

A Christmas Carol is a story that everybody has heard of, I believe. There have been countless adaptations; however, many of those don't even worth mentioning. Fortunately, I belong to the "race who knows Joseph"; that is to say, I’m one of those people who are keen to read the original story, even if there is a good movie adaptation. Hence, my favourite memory of Dickens’ short Christmas tale is when I actually purchased a book that contained it.

Interestingly, the book is entitled Karácsonyi Emlék, which means A Christmas Memory in English. And, it is a wonderful collection of short Christmassy stories by several classic authors. So, besides Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol you can read two other Christmas writings by him, along with Oscar Wilde’s The Happy Prince, James Joyce’s The Dead, Dylan Thomas’s A Child’s Christmas in Wales, Thomas Hardy’s Absent-Mindedness in a Parish Choir, Eustacia Is Led on to an Adventure (Book 2, Chapter 4 of The Return of the Native) and The Tranter’s Party (Chapter 7 of Under the Greenwood Tree), George Eliot’s The Christmas Holiday (Chapter 15 of The Mill on the Floss), Ernest Hemingway’s Christmas on the Roof of the World (published in The Toronto Star Weekly, December 22, 1923), and Truman Capote’s A Christmas Memory. This book is truly a treasure trove, as you can see.

Even though not all stories in this book have a Happy Ending and despite being Christmassy, many aren’t merry stories either, I think it’s a good read, if you want to spend a thoughtful Christmas. I imagine what I would do if I had a family and a house on my own. In my imaginary family, my husband, me, the children and our dog would gather in front of the fireplace on Christmas Eve, would drink hot chocolate/eggnog, and read out loud from this wonderful book. Wouldn’t it be lovely and much better than watching a movie adaptation?

The Classics Club: Meme #4

In November, The Classics Club asked us whether and what classic piece of literature most intimidates us, and why. I wish, I could say I've never been intimidated by any classics, or any books for that matter. But to be honest, there are indeed books that frighten me.

Why? It's because I am afraid that I'll have to go through pain. I don't mean some imaginary pain, but true physical pain. I'm either too sensitive or my imagination is too vivid, or both. Whatever the reason, when I'm reading a book and a character is suffering (I mean severely suffering), I'm feeling his or her pains in my body.

A particular page of a sensitive author may well have revived a prostrate soul: and I who read the page, I who am touched by it . . . by feeling similar emotions I enter into some sort of communion with those whose fate I so deeply grieve. (Germaine de Staël, The Influence of Literature upon Society) 

For example, I've recently read Michelle Moran's Madame Tussaud and it was a very difficult and disturbing reading for me precisely because I was feeling constant pain. Do not misunderstand me. I truly liked Moran's writing style and I heartily recommend her book. But, her vivid description of the events of the French Revolution triggered my empathy for the innocent people and what they had been through which in turn was causing me instant pain.

So, poorly written books cannot frighten me; in worst-case scenario, I can simply abandon them. By contrast, well-written books with a lot of suffering can cause me sleepless nights and heartaches, especially if I can't get those vivid pictures out of my head. This is the reason why I'm particularly afraid of reading Victor Hugo's Les Misérables, which is number 27 on my Classics Club list.

And, what about you? Does your body aches sometimes, when you're reading tragic stories? Do you have restless nights?

The Classics Club: Meme #3

Regrettably, I wasn't able to post my answer to the Classic Club meme questions between October and December, because I had been under a lot of stress and had major worries over my dog's health. But now that my dog is recovering from a successful surgery, I have the time and am in the right frame of mind to reply to those questions. Let's begin with the question for October.

Ideal Bookshelf by Jane Mount

The Classics Club: Meme #2

This month meme for The Classics Club is to pick a review by another member and write about why it made you excited to read that classic in particular.

To be honest, I love classics, but I am somewhat biased in favour of female writers. Why? Partly as a result of a "historical development"—that is to say, the library I inherited from my mother was built up of books by female authors—and partly because female authors tend to have a more romantic vision of life, which better matches my character and my expectations of a novel. To put it simply, I love to read about love stories with happy endings, because I don't have much of it in my real life...

For this reason, even though I have read Alexandre Dumas, Oscar Wilde, Thornton Wilder, Erich Kästner, and Mark Twain (because they are on the "safe" side), I am very cautious about choosing novels written by other men. E.M. Forster's Howards End is, however, one of those writers whom I "trust" on my reading list. And, having read Lindsey's review over at Sparks' Notes, I am actually growing rather impatient for eventually reading it. But, "it's a long way to Tipperary, it's a long way to go...", because Howards End is number 38 (!) on my reading list. Sigh...

Lindsey's review captured my imagination and made me want to read Howards End because it convinced me that there has been at least one male writer—E.M. Forster—who was able to understand female soul and to develop a strong, independent female character. Independence doesn't mean financial independence but true freedom of mind and soul and independence from other people's opinion. Or, as Lindsey writes,

I adored Margaret. She's strong and bold, but in a quiet way. She's not flashy and reckless the way strong women are often portrayed. She stands up for her family members and stands by them even when they make mistakes, without judging them. [...] I love that she admits to not wanting kids—people judge me for that today, in 2012, 100 years after Forster wrote that! We still want to suck the color out of people who are different from us (I meant that metaphorically, but I suppose that also speaks to racists). We make fun of those who are different from us. We judge each other. EVERYONE does that. I'm trying to be more conscious of this, that God created many of our differences, and even the ones that He didn't, they still bring more color to life. 

I too wish there were more people, especially women, like Forster's Margaret in our world. But above all, I wish I could be one of those people. And, I truly hope that I will learn a great deal about how to be one by reading Howards End...