Lost at sea.

Scribblings of a mad woman.

More than a year later, I’ve managed to summon enough courage to crawl out of my hidey-hole and share a face-reddeningly* embarrassing incident with you all. And yes, it is related to the second book we were meant to read and review: The Count of Monte Cristo. Let’s just say I got lost while trying to navigate this classic.

It may come as a surprise to some that I’ve managed to get through life thus far without coming across the plot of this book at school, uni, work or even in film form. Eager to get started, I went to my nearest bookstore but they didn’t have it in stock. Undeterred, I went to the bookshop near my work but no luck there either. Instead of doing the sensible thing and going to the library, I decided I was going to take advantage of the Google Play store’s generous offer to let me read this book for free on my phone! At that time, my first ever smart phone was still a shiny new toy and I thought it’d be fun and frugal to download the book and read it on a tiny 4” LCD screen.  Not paying much attention to the fine print at the front of the book, I dived into the task at hand with gusto. I didn’t want to read a summary or a teaser or speak to anyone who may inadvertently spoil it for me. For whatever reason, I was compelled by my subconscious to read this book with blind faith and I coerced myself into believing it would be an adventure letting the pages tell their tale. So when my fellow reviewer – Monica – asked if I’d reached the part where the Count had escaped from jail, I hushed her with a: “Please don’t give anything away.”

From the get-go, I found the book difficult to understand. Characters were popping out left, right, centre and it felt as though there were many plot twists which I’d have to uncover. I thought I was reading a mystery. Out came my notebook and pen as I started jotting down character names, relationships, scenarios and motives. It was all a puzzle and I felt quite the detective piecing this jigsaw together. As the harsh light of the phone pierced my retinas and forced me to take the aide of reading glasses, I ignored the hand cramps and neck spasms as I persevered with the story via the uncomfortable medium of this tiny gadget. Colleagues kept asking how I was coming along with this lengthy novel. Totalling at 620 pages I thought it was a pretty standard length and my quizzical looks were met with their equally confused ones.

When I finished the book I didn’t feel a hundred per cent satisfied as there were still a fair few questions my note-taking hadn’t answered and the book had ended. I felt pretty clever, having figured out who the villains were and what relationship they all had with the Count of Monte Cristo but it didn’t quite add up. Trying to ignore the prickle of unease that was threatening my stomach, I decided I should watch the 2002 onscreen adaptation of this classic tale. The beginning did not match that of the book. I stopped watching it, thinking they'd interpreted the word “adaptation” rather loosely. I found a 1998 TV mini-series, starring Gérard Depardieu, and thought the French would’ve done justice to Alexandre Dumas’ literary work. But that too started in the same fashion as the previous film. It was only when I decided to share this wonderful Google app on Facebook so others could read it for free as well that I noticed the little note in the description saying in two volumes. I opened the app on my phone and went through it again. On the front page, in tiny, grainy font, there it was: Volume 2. I had started the book in the middle. I had skipped the first 600 or so pages. That’s why it felt short. That’s why the characters weren’t given backgrounds. That’s why it felt like a mystery. That’s why every time I described it as such to family and friends, I was met with perplexed expressions. In my eagerness to tackle this novel without at least reading a synopsis I had royally stitched myself up for failure.

Oh the shame of it all.

It just goes to show, there is no such thing a free ticket. Terms and conditions always apply and for goodness sake, read the freakin’ fine print. And I should know this, I work in advertising, where dotting the i's and crossing the t's is a daily activity. I'm meant to possess great attention to detail!

I felt rather despondent and depressed and unfairly angry at the book. I was in two minds about sharing this sorry saga and cementing my image as a rash, fumbling clutz. But I feel there needs to be an explanation for my absence. Since then, I have (stubbornly) gone out and purchased a copy of the said book. And I will be posting a review of it shortly.

But before that, there is another exciting book I need to talk about. It’s not a classic yet, but it is bound to become a modern-day classic. It is Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. This is a book I’ve had on my shelf for almost a year, and only have gotten around to reading recently. I’ll be posting my review on it by the weekend. It’s an important book and I think it needs to be shared, read and spoken about by everyone. (That is, if anyone will take anything I have to say seriously after this little debacle.)

*Reddeningly apparently isn’t a word. Whatevs.

One Year Anniversary~!

Yes, we are still alive.

Now that this important detail has been addressed, let's move on to other matters.

This day last year, we three booketeers decided that we would spend 2013 improving ourselves by reading and reviewing a large collection of classic books. Our goal was 100 books. We completed 1 (and a half). Needless to say, we have decided to set a slightly more attainable goal for 2014 so as not to drown in bitter failure again.

Watch this space for more thought-provoking reviews and entertaining tales of our adventures (and misadventures) through fantasy realms, long-forgotten places and down the hallways of history.

Happy 2014~!

A Slightly Unorthodox Review

Okay, bear with me. I haven’t exactly reviewed a ‘classic’. In fact, I may or may not have reviewed a brand new book... but I have a brilliant explanation! You see, I’m a terribly impatient reader. I need a book to scream with mystery, drama and fireworks from the very first page - I need the story to grab me and drag me deep into the world of the characters within the first few sentences - otherwise, before I know it, I’ve ‘misplaced’ the book in a far-off location, never to be seen again. 

It’s true! It’s the reason why I never finished The Lord of the Rings. One minute, I was reading all about the incredibly interesting, detailed history of Hobbit-lore and Middle-earth, and the next minute, it was gone... Hmm. I can sense your skepticism. Oh well. Keep reading anyway.

This new year’s resolution was a long-talked-about one - to finally read The Power Of One, Bryce Courtenay’s legendary masterpiece. After the requisite new year’s drinks and hangovers were officially exhausted, I heaved the heavy book from the shelf, wiped off the thick layer of dust from the tired black cover, and cracked it open to chapter one.

After several weeks of strong coffees, Tim Tams, sugary treats and anything else I could find to motivate myself to keep reading, I was still struggling to immerse myself in the world of Peekay and his pet chicken.

Finally, in great frustration, I tossed the book aside (ignoring the guilt from failing to complete another new year’s resolution) and reached for the latest Jodi Picoult instead - The Storyteller.

Now, anyone who has ever read a Jodi Picoult novel knows how intoxicating her writing is. It is vibrant and rich with imagery and description. When she writes about a delicious dinner, she doesn’t just describe the food. No - she paints a vivid picture of the taste, the smell, the longing from the characters who are about to eat it. The very essence of the food dances across the page and you lose yourself in the flavour of the meal.

This magically descriptive writing style is woven across every page of her latest book. Food is a huge part of the story, with the hero being a baker who finds solace in the kitchen, baking rich pastries and breads as she hides from the rest of the world. The story takes un unexpected turn when an acquaintance reveals a shocking secret, and draws the story away from the quiet present into a violent, blood-soaked past.

The horrors of World War II are told from the perspectives of several characters, giving you an intimate look into life during the Nazi movement, and life inside concentration camps, both as a prisoner and a guard. Death, and all that comes with it, works its way into every chapter - heartbreak, despair, hope, desperation, and unimaginable fear are twisted into a clever and unexpected tale of survival, strength, and a bit of mystery. And, of course, love. Picoult never writes a book without weaving a love story into its midst. Love and death - the two most heart-wrenching things that happen in this world. That’s what makes this book such a page-turner. You’re either on the edge of your seat, desperately hoping the character you have gotten to know survives the bloody violence that surrounds her, as her family and friends die horrific deaths one by one - or you’re hurriedly turning the pages to see how a blossoming romance will unfold.

I won’t give away the ending. Because, as with all truly fantastic books, it has a twist in the final chapters... although, unlike a lot of her books, I didn’t find this twist completely shocking. But the way it unfolds is quite unexpected. And the final page left me truly satisfied with the way in which all the loose ends had been neatly tied.

You’ve got to admit, there’s nothing quite as annoying as a book that ends on a cliff-hanger - I suppose the author is hoping you’ll appreciate the opportunity to draw your own conclusions. I hate that. If you’re telling me a story, finish the story! Picoult’s books are always finished brilliantly. (Yes, I’m a fan of her books... Don’t judge me. Come on, you have to admit My Sister’s Keeper was good!)

So, if you’re like me and tend to have a short attention span when it comes to reading, and you need a fast-paced story dripping with death, violence, pain, suffering, hope, love, and suspense, check out The Storyteller.

Pride & Persuasion - a study

Persuasion, Jane Austen’s posthumously published novel, bears striking resemblance to her earlier and widely acclaimed work, Pride and Prejudice. In fact, one could almost declare the likeness so profound as to propose the novel worthy of being titled Pride and Persuasion. Pride, a necessary evil in any proper English gentleman; and persuasion (or rather the act of allowing oneself to be strongly – and wrongly – persuaded), an unattractive trait that betrays “too yielding and indecisive a character.” (Wentworth; Volume I, Chapter X) Needless to say, these undesirable traits form the basis for the conflict between the two primary protagonists, and result in an eight-year estrangement after a short period of engagement. 

The first parallel to be drawn between the two novels, then, is the title as the primary factor of division, and the hurdle to overcome in reunion. In Pride and Prejudice, Mr Darcy, through pride that befits his station is life, frowns upon the poor financial situation and eccentric family of Elizabeth Bennet. Though he claims to love her, his proposal (which mostly serves to list her family's shortcomings and outline the complete lack of balance in their potential relationship) is severely lacking in sentimental value. Elizabeth Bennet, though shocked by the unexpected speech, is expectedly unimpressed. She refuses him, both on account of his insulting declaration and also as a result of prior prejudice formed against him under the influence of negative rumours pertaining to his character. In Persuasion, Captain Wentworth's pride, which prevents him from seeking out and re-courting Anne Elliot immediately, stems from his absolute resentment towards her for allowing herself to be persuaded against marrying him despite accepting his proposal. As the daughter of a Baron, Anne is socially superior in the relationship, and her confidante, Lady Russell, could not bear the thought of her Anne "with all her claims of birth, beauty, and mind" marrying a young man with nothing to his name. Hence, Anne Elliot allows herself to be persuaded against the match. Similarly, Elizabeth Bennet trusts Wickham and willingly believes his poisonous lies regarding Mr Darcy’s character, and is thus persuaded to become prejudiced against him.

The second and most comedic parallel between the two novels is family. Austen weaves her tales with social critique and lessons on morality, which often emerge in bursts of satirical wit or downright hilarious moments of idiocy. The gentlemen's families are rarely mentioned as being consequential or influential in the main couplings, but the Bennets and the Elliots are quite a delightful bunch. Mr Bennet is a sensible man with a silly wife, and the late Lady Elliot was a sensible woman who married a vain man. Simply pronouncing Sir Walter Elliot ‘vain’ is apparently an understatement, as there does not appear to be any further substance to his character - unless you take into account that he was also a “conceited, silly father.” (Austen; Volume I, Chapter I). As Austen makes abundantly clear at the beginning of the novel (so as to avoid any possible ambiguity and leave no room for reconsideration), "vanity was the beginning and the end of Sir Walter Elliot's character; vanity of person and of situation." (Austen; Volume I, Chapter I) This is possibly one of the most hilarious character descriptions to rival Eddie Redmayne's "Texan meth addict paedophile with a limp." (Some interview; somewhere) This kind of blatant clarity seems almost like a challenge, encouraging readers to search the rest of the novel for one single redeeming quality to save a condemned man. By the end of the novel, one realises that alas, Austen's contemptuous treatment of Sir Walter Elliot (as the figurehead for a most detested character trait) is bulletproof. If one found his character comical at the start of the novel, by the end, he has become tiresome and deserving of all the evils that have justly befallen him. 

Parents aside, the siblings in the two novels also deserve a mention. The most comical comparison would be Mary Bennet vs. Mary Elliot. Both Marys like to fancy themselves (and their questionable talent/class) severely under-appreciated, strive to be the centre of attention, and don't seem to understand just how irritating they really are. Neither pose a threat in story development, however, and as such, both can be regarded with fond exasperation. Both families consist of daughters; 5 Miss Bennets and 3 Miss Elliots (Downton Abbey, anyone?). As a result, their fathers' estates will be passed to the closest male relative upon his passing. In both instances, the future heir is invited to be acquainted, and displays (or hides) a fundamental character flaw. Mr Collins is... bizarre, for want of a better word, and Mr Elliot is cunning, manipulative and downright heartless. However, both share a common goal; our heroine's heart. And both, as logic dictates, fail.

There are so many more parallels to be drawn between the two novels, and I would encourage anyone who has read both texts to offer their own thoughts. For the purpose of this review, however, I feel that it is time to share some of my musings on Persuasion itself.

Latika noted that “Austen, at least in this book, portrays the world in either black or white with not much room for grey, so someone is either good or bad.” (Mani; blog post below) While this appears to be true on the surface, such as the ruthless juxtaposition of Elizabeth Elliot’s vices against Anne’s virtues (comical to say the least), I found myself of a different opinion by the end of the novel. The character of Lady Russell exemplifies my argument. Austen spends much of the novel reassuring readers that Lady Russell “was a benevolent, charitable, good woman, and capable of strong attachments; most correct in her conduct, strict in her notions of decorum, and with manners that were held a standard of good-breeding.” (Austen, Volume I, Chapter II) To think that such a woman could be the primary cause of eight years of regret and suffering for her favourite god-daughter is hard to fathom. A little background reading revealed that sometime prior to writing this novel, Austen herself had undergone a period in her life when her favourite niece thought to base her betrothal on Austen’s sole opinion. Terrified of being held accountable for future mishaps, Austen had written her niece a detailed letter entreating her to take her future happiness into her own hands. This then, could be the motivation behind Austen’s constant reminder of Lady Russell’s faultless character despite her being the catalyst for the major event that led to the misunderstandings in the novel. She is neither perfect, nor evil; she is simply a strong-minded woman who did what she thought best for her favourite god-daughter, and thought wrong.

The concept of persuasion as pertaining to a weak and undependable mind is a primary and ongoing source of debate throughout the novel. Blinded by his resentment towards Anne Elliot, Captain Wentworth readily tells Louisa Musgrove that “yours is the character of decision and firmness… it is the worst evil of too yielding and indecisive a character, that no influence over it can be depended on… let those who would be happy be firm.” (Wentworth; Volume I, Chapter X) At this point in the novel, he still believes (or has persuaded himself to believe) Louisa's strong and unyielding personality worthy of praise, whereas readers may instead find her character obstinate and headstrong. Barely two chapters later, after her adamant demand to leap off a pier wall resulted in near tragedy, Captain Wentworth is forced to re-evaluate his unjust classification of Louisa Musgrove and Anne Elliot’s different personalities. Anne herself wonders, on their journey back to Uppercross to inform Louisa’s parents of her unfortunate predicament, whether this incident might cause him to “question the justness of his own previous opinion as to the universal felicity and advantage of firmness of character; and whether it might not strike him, that, like all other qualities of mind, it should have its proportions and limits.” (Austen; Volume I, Chapter XII) Anne observes, and rightly so, that later reflection upon the lead-up to Louisa’s accident ought to make Captain Wentworth realise that “a persuadable temper might sometimes be as much in favour of happiness, as a very resolute character.” (Austen; Volume I, Chapter XII) Indeed, Captain Wentworth pronounces her observation entirely correct after their eventual reconciliation, during the essential clear-up of prior misunderstandings that immediately follows. After his avid account of his distressed spirit and agonised mind post Louisa’s accident, Captain Wentworth tells Anne that in the quiet period of reflection that followed, he found himself at least able to “distinguish between the steadiness of principle and the obstinacy of self-will, between the darings of heedlessness and the resolution of a collected mind.” (Austen; Volume II, Chapter XI) From all this, it is not exceedingly difficult to ascertain Austen’s angle on the concept of persuasion. She neither advocates a mind that is easily persuadable, nor one that is ruled by obstinacy. Instead, she calls upon readers to be like her heroine, Anne Elliot; heed duty, but also stay resolute to one’s principles. Surely then, happiness must follow. Right?

Through the novel, Austen makes abundantly clear her distaste for strict class differentiation, long engagements, as well as deceptive, pretentious and manipulative people. On the other hand, she encourages constancy and sincerity of character. As a comical and satirical piece of social and character critique, this novel is a good read with plenty to ponder beneath the surface. As a romance, I’m not sure I was sold. Forgive me for failing to understand how our protagonists are able to rekindle their romance after an eight-year estrangement without any form of communication; with barely two words exchanged during their months-long re-acquaintance at Uppercross, during which the hero is happily wooing two other women and the heroine is busy hiding her mounting misery. At the end of the novel, Captain Wentworth’s explanation for his unpardonable behaviour earlier shed some light into his confused psyche (maybe), but the whole concept still boggles my mind. Perhaps the absurdity of it all is the definition of romance. Perhaps not.

Persuasion by Jane Austen

Anne Elliot, our heroine, is the second daughter of Sir Walter Elliot, a pompous, vain and shallow Baron. The book starts with Sir Walter and his favourite daughter, Elizabeth, pondering means of reducing expenses without altering their lavish lifestyle. Elizabeth suggests cutting back on charitable donations. The family’s neighbour and close friend, and Anne’s dearest confidante – Lady Russell – tries helping them budget the household expenses. Sir Walter refuses to compromise and give up the finer things in life that a Baron is accustomed to. Despite Anne’s wishes of relocating into a smaller house in the country, Mr Shepherd – the family lawyer – convinces Sir Walter to move to a smaller house in Bath that still has an air of opulence, albeit on a smaller scale so it won’t hurt their pocket. Mr Shepherd also coaxes Sir Walter into renting out their Kellynch property to Admiral Croft and his wife. Despite the Baron’s dislike of naval officers due to their weather-beaten appearance and the fact they gain recognition and fortune on their merit as sailors, rather than being born to money and a noble family lineage, he decides to let the Crofts rent it, because when questioned by others, saying “I have let my house to Admiral Croft would sound extremely well; very much better than to any Mr –”

Anne’s world is sent into turmoil by this news – Mrs Croft is the sister of Captain Fredrick Wentworth, a naval officer whom Anne had fallen in love with and was courted by 8 years ago. He had wanted to marry her and she had accepted, but because he was poor and from a lower class family, Sir Walter had been against it. His disapproval wasn’t what deterred Anne; it was Lady Russell’s objection to the match. Young Anne had lost her mother and lived in a household where she was treated like a second class citizen whose likes, dislikes and happiness were of no consequence and Lady Russell was the only person who showed genuine parental affection towards Anne. So when Lady Russell advised her to not accept Captain Wentworth’s proposal, Anne grudgingly yet dutifully listened. Now twenty-seven, Anne has matured and lived enough to deeply regret her decision. She is still in love with Captain Wentworth and has refused at least one offer of marriage.

Ever the dutiful daughter and sister, when her father and Elizabeth go to set up residence in Bath, she goes to her younger sister Mary’s house in Uppercross (not too far from Kellynch) to look after her. Mary has hypochondriac tendencies, and Anne with her soothing and sensible ways is always able to bring Mary back to health and good spirits. It seems fortune favours Anne with this turn of events as it allows her to reacquaint herself with Captain Wentworth. Everything that follows is a culmination of 8 years of heartache, hurt, sorrow and unfulfilled love, intertwined with 19th Century  English country life and high society drama.

Austen, at least in this book, portrays the world in either black or white with not much room for grey, so someone is either good or bad. The many characters she brings to life in Persuasion allow her to balance these out, bringing forth human weaknesses: pretension, snobbery, callousness and offsetting them with human strengths: forgiveness, decency and kindness to create a tale that is funny, heart-warming and in many ways still relevant today.

I found myself exasperated by Sir Walter, Elizabeth and Mary. But I have to admit – their conceited views and outlandish behaviour made me laugh out loud. It seems the only sensible Elliot is Anne and at first I was afraid she was going to be portrayed as a victimised martyr but as the book progresses, you get to see her calm and collected character grow. She keeps her cool and takes in stride what life throws her way. I found it a little difficult at times to keep up with the numerous characters but it wasn't overwhelming. I've had this book for a few years now and I've half-heartedly tried reading it twice before. The first page was the biggest hurdle, especially as it starts with the Baron boasting about himself and glowing in self admiration. This time, I resisted the urge to snap the book shut and put it back on the shelf and was rewarded with a story that entertained and excited me into finishing the novel quickly and then watching both the 1995 and 2007 TV films. I preferred the earlier version as it stayed true to the tone of the book whereas the 2007 remake tried making it a more dark and grim account when it wasn't!

I hope you've been persuaded into giving Austen’s last completed work a chance to grow on you too.

If you've already read it, feel free to share your thoughts.

The plot thickens...

We printed out a list of 100 Classic Books - the UK and the US version - courtesy of ever helpful Wikipedia.  We highlighted the ones we've already read. We decided on the 5 titles we’ll attempt first by drawing them out of a box. We created a book club and tried encouraging our co-workers to join. We tried luring them with cross stitched book marks and a chance to cultivate their minds. So far we are the only two members. Some of our friends have told us they’ll like us on FB and follow our blog if we were to set one up, and so here we are. We've finished the first book and hopefully we’ll have more members by the time we’re onto our third book (at least). We’re ever optimistic!

Stay tuned for our upcoming reviews and thoughts on the first book, Jane Austen's Persuasion.

P.S. We have recruited a third member, just in time for the second book: The Count of Monte Cristo.

The lightbulb moment, or have we lost the plot?

In an attempt to broaden our knowledge and open our minds, and ultimately, have the ability to say “yes, we too have read this classic must-read by such-and-such incredible author that you all speak of”, we have taken on the task of reading the classics such as Persuasion by Jane Austen, The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas, Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott and Vanity Fair by William Thackeray, to name just a few. A year that’s seeing so many epic books hit the big screen: Les Misèrables, The Hobbit, Anna Karenina and The Life of Pi, we got to talking about how some of these widely rejoiced books are easy reads whereas others are a challenge. And although we are avid readers, contemporary fiction is more to our liking, yet somehow or other the conversation led to excitement about these historic novels and we talked ourselves into starting the new year by taking one of Mark Twain’s quotes “Classic - a book which people praise and don’t read” and almost challenging ourselves to do the opposite and read these books that are so often praised.