Book Review: The Warden by Anthony Trollope

The Warden is the first in Trollope's 'Chronicles of Barsetshire'. The warden of the title is Mr Septimus Harding who oversees Hiram's Hospital, an almshouse which supports twelve bedesmen whilst allowing Mr Harding and his younger daughter Eleanor to live very comfortably. Unfortunately, local reformer John Bold takes up the case of the bedesmen, arguing that the legacy has been mishandled and the men are still living in relative poverty while Mr Harding lives well. Adding another dimension to this disagreement is the fact that John and Eleanor secretly love each other.

This was my first Trollope (yes, I know, naughty Victorianist) and I think I picked well. Though the book really does take a while to get going, once I was a quarter of the way in I was hooked. The story's a very simple one, there aren't any big shocks and all the drama stems from the characters, of which there are some memorable ones. Chief amongst those is Archdeacon Grantly, Mr Harding's son-in-law, who is opinionated and a bit of a bully when it comes to what his father-in-law should do about the dispute. I'm looking forward to following him and other characters further in Barchester Towers.

I did find the book dragging a little when the narrative moved away from Barchester and followed Mr Harding to London in his quest to solve the problem. While some of the descriptions there were evocative, the section seemed in contrast to the rest of the book which was tightly-wound around Barchester.

Ultimately, The Warden proved to be a good introduction to Trollope for me and I'll certainly read more. As with much good Victorian fiction, the issues it raises are as potent today and, it has to be said, no more easily resolved. What shines through in this novel for me is Mr Harding's overwhelming niceness. Not a bad impression to be left with perhaps.

This book was read as part of the 'Victorian Bingo' reading challenge, details here.

Book Review: Felix Holt, the Radical by George Eliot

Felix Holt, the Radical tells the story of political upheaval around the time of the Reform Act in a provincial town. Harold Transome returns from years living abroad to claim his estate and also to stand for election as a Radical, rejecting his Tory roots. At the same time, Felix Holt returns home and sets about working hard in poverty when he could be something better. Felix befriends the Dissenting minster, Rev. Lyon but initially has something of a tetchy relationship with his daughter, Esther Lyon. However, as the election approaches, secrets begin spilling out and both Harold and Felix find themselves in difficult situations.

I've struggled with Eliot in the past but I really enjoyed this book once I got into it. It seemed to take a little while to get going, but once all the main players were in place it was a smooth read. Of the major secrets in the novel, one is obvious from the start, giving a colour to every interaction between certain characters that one of them is completely unaware of. In addition, I adored the interplay between Felix and Esther. Their sparring conversations in the early part of the novel are certainly one of the highlights, as are their slow realisations that they don't dislike each other as much as they think they do. Also, while Rev. Lyon irritated me a little in his opening few chapters, he develops quite well as the nature of his relationship with his daughter changes.

The riot scenes which Felix gets himself involved in are extremely evocative without being a litany of what every individual was doing at any given time. While the outcome of the riot is, perhaps, a foregone conclusion, Eliot's representation of both it and Felix is delicate and well-handled. The riot, along with the scene preceding it where Felix and Esther are skirting around the issue of their love are two of my favourite scenes in the novel, though I did also enjoy the court and prison scenes. I suppose that suggests that the best portions of the book come towards the end and that may well be the case.

There were some things about the book that grated slightly. I didn't like how long it took to get going, as mentioned above. I also found Eliot's segues into the mind of random voters (whilst completely understandable) a little tiresome. I found I was trying to keep names in my head that were only going to pop up once or twice again and for very little purpose. However, the milieu Eliot was trying to create certainly comes across on the page so I suppose that's a victory.

Ultimately, I enjoyed Felix Holt, the Radical for the characterisation of a few - Felix, Esther, Rev. Lyon and Mrs Transome - and some splendid scenes. I may have been at last converted to a 'proper' Eliot fan.

This book was read as part of the 'Victorian Bingo' reading challenge, details here.

2015 Reading Challenges Master List

In a bid to make up for my lacklustre attempts at reading as many books as I'd like to in the last few years, I've signed up for five separate reading challenges for 2015. While I could place books on two lists, I haven't done that. The idea is to read as many books as possible and broaden my horizons a little bit. I'll probably fail miserably but I'm going to have fun trying with this lot.

New Author Challenge

Hosted by Literary Escapism, this challenge does what it says on the tin - you have to read a set amount of new authors in 2015. I'm opting into the lowest rung of fifteen novels which may make me a bit of a wimp but I want to try and complete it after all. I've listed the precise books I intend to read and not just the authors because the rest of the lists will look like this and I'm nothing if not methodical. It's a reasonable mix of modern novels and older stuff. 

1. The Middlesteins by Jami Attenberg
2. After Me Comes the Flood by Sarah Perry
3. The Failed Assassin by Richard Pierce
4. Dead to Me by Cath Staincliffe
5. The Accidental Mother by Rowan Coleman
6. Heresy by S.J. Parris
7. The Bawdy Basket by Edward Marston
8. The Lost Abbot by Susanna Gregory
9. The Heir of Redclyffe by Charlotte Yonge
10. Patricia Brent, Spinster by Herbert George Jenkins
11. The Betrothed by Alessandro Manzoni
12. The Mystery of a Hansom Cab by Fergus Hume
13. King Solomon's Mines by Henry Rider Haggard
14. The Angel of Terror by Edgar Wallace
15. The Bartlett Mystery by Louis Tracy

Women Challenge

Hosted by Peek a booK!, the idea is to get people reading more books by women. While that's probably my default position anyway, it can't hurt to make it official and, besides, it's setting in stone that I need to read some of those classics I've so far neglected. I'm opting for the second level which is six to fifteen books and aiming for the higher end of that category.

1. The Mill on the Floss by George Eliot
2. Brick Mother by S.J. Bradley
3. The Lovels of Arden by Mary Elizabeth Braddon
4. The Paying Guests by Sarah Waters
5. Here Be Dragons by Stella Gibbons
6. Sylvia's Lovers by Elizabeth Gaskell
7. In the Days of My Youth by Amelia Edwards
8. Murder on a Summer's Day by Frances Brody
9. Mathilda by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
10. Camilla by Fanny Burney
11. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
12. Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell
13. Nancy by Rhoda Broughton
14. Miss Marjoribanks by Margaret Oliphant
15. The Story of an African Farm by Olive Schreiner

TBR Challenge

Hosted by Roof Beam Reader, this is the challenge I failed miserably at last year, only getting through five of my choices. As a consequence, several of these books are appearing on the list for the second year running and I'll try to do better this time. As per the rules, all of these books have been waiting to be read for at least a year and there are twelve books on this list. 

1. Author, Author by David Lodge
2. Mutants by Armand Marie Leroi
3. Radclyffe Hall: A Woman Called John by Sally Cline
4. The Lazy Tour of Two Idle Apprentices by Charles Dickens and Wilkie Collins
5. The Secret Diaries of Miss Anne Lister
6. 800 Years of Women's Letters
7. Collected Stories by Dylan Thomas
8. Henry Dunbar by Mary Elizabeth Braddon
9. The New Magdalen by Wilkie Collins
10. Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens
11. The Moon and Sixpence by W. Somerset Maugham
12. Witch Stories by Eliza Lynn Linton

Victorian Bingo Challenge

This one, hosted by Becky's Book Reviews, is rather fun. You have to complete a row, line or diagonal on the bingo board and, again, I'm using this challenge to read books I should've read already. I've gone across the top, mainly because I wanted to avoid some categories that would likely put me off the challenge and there are five books involved in this one.

1. Book Published in the 1840s - Dombey and Son by Charles Dickens
2. Male Author - The Warden by Anthony Trollope
3. Female Author - Charlotte's Inheritance by Mary Elizabeth Braddon
4. Book with a Name as the Title - Felix Holt, the Radical by George Eliot
5. Book Published in Serial Format - The Cloister and the Hearth by Charles Reade

Reading England Challenge

Hosted by Behold the Stars, this challenge is to read books set in different parts of the country. I'm opting for level two which is four to six books and aiming for the higher number again. I've deliberately filled this selection with classics too, probably because I'm a glutton for punishment.

1. Berkshire - Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy
2. Essex - Barnaby Rudge by Charles Dickens
3. Derbyshire - Rookwood by W.H. Ainsworth
4. Nottinghamshire - Sons and Lovers by D.H. Lawrence
5. Somerset - Lorna Doone by R.D. Blackmore
6. Lancashire - Mary Barton by Elizabeth Gaskell

Book Review: Jill by Amy Dillwyn

First published in 1884, Jill tells the story of a well-bred heroine who hates her home life and so decides to venture out into the world and get by working for a living. After learning about her childhood and her father's second marriage, we follow her through her first position as a day-governess then she manages to land a job with a distant relative, Kitty Mervyn, who wants a travelling maid. Although generally a self-centred person, Kitty brings out an affection in Jill that surprises her. For a brief time, the supposed class barriers between them fall away but the friendly relations can't last and events are soon taken out of Jill's control by malevolent forces.

The only way I can describe this book is that it's a complete and utter romp. Suspend your disbelief and jump in. Jill is a compelling character, from the way she organises her escape from home to her escapades on Corsica with Kitty. She conveys things to the reader with a strong sense of humour and her interactions with other characters are laced with sarcasm and insight. I particularly enjoyed her dealings with her first employer, a neurotic woman who is dreadfully worried about contamination and disease. Jill skilfully handles her in a scene that is both satisfying and beautiful to read. The book is essentially made up of episodes and I'd imagine it would be a good book to read aloud with many decent break points. I especially love how Jill lambastes the conventions of romance and sensation early in the book and then Dillwyn goes on to make use of them in a very tongue-in-cheek way. The sense of a connection between the reader and Jill/the reader and the author is strong in this book.

It's not all light-hearted though. The tone shifts abruptly towards the end of the book when Jill is involved in an accident which leads to a profound change in her outlook. Because the rest of the book has been so much like a romp, it's difficult to accept the gear shift, especially considering what it leads to. However, on reflection, the scenes are made all the more potent by what has come before and they are certainly memorable.

Jill is a book with many strands. The affection Jill feels for Kitty is an important aspect, governing her behaviour at times but I didn't get a full sense of why she felt so strongly for her until the Corsica incidents. It also deals with issues of class and gender as Jill passes as a maid and is promptly pursued by a valet who doesn't want to take 'no' for an answer. In a light-hearted way, it raises some interesting questions, some of which I suppose are as valid today as they were 130 years ago. Jill concludes one chapter with this which struck a chord with me on first reading and does so again now: 'Yet I myself told lies unhesitatingly whenever I found them convenient; so what right had I to complain of other people for doing the same?' This book doesn't read much like a Victorian novel and perhaps that's why I enjoyed it so much.

My Summer Conferences

I've given papers at three conferences this summer in rather different locations and to different groups of people. The actual conferences themselves have been enjoyable and informative, though my personal difficulties have made them a little more traumatic than I would've preferred.

The first one, at the beginning of June, was the Oxford English Graduate Conference 2014 on the theme of 'Margins'. Of course, this gave me the brilliant excuse to see Oxford - and to see Oxford in the sunshine - which was a very pleasant experience. My paper, entitled 'Reclaiming a Sensation Novelist: Re-evaluating Edmund Yates', was on a 9:00 am panel, probably a good thing because once it was over I started to enjoy the day a little more. The programme was packed full with four sets of four simultaneous panels. The variety was excellent, though I tended to stick to the more Victorian ones. Perhaps my favourite panel was 'Nineteenth-Century Women' that included three outstanding papers from Ruth Ashton (University of Leicester), Teja Pusapati (University of Oxford) and Rebecca Shuttleworth (University of Leicester) who looked at 'fallen'/'new' women, the English Woman's Journal and provincial women in abolitionist discourse respectively. The day was a success overall and I managed to overcome my inherent shyness and hold a few conversations with some interesting people.

Secondly, at the end of June, was 'Recoveries 2014: Reconnections, 1714-1914' held at the University of Nottingham. The paper I gave there was a variation on my Oxford paper, slightly shorter and with more of an emphasis on Yates's novel Black Sheep in relation to Dickens. I was pleased with how it went and got some interesting questions. Once again, there was a nice mix of paper within the time period, my favourites perhaps being Amy Watson (Nottingham Trent University) discussing Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, Adam Abraham (University of Oxford) talking about imitations of The Pickwick Papers and Elizabeth Adams (independent) on the collaborative authorship questions surrounding Mary Elizabeth Braddon. The university campus at Nottingham is stunning, a perfect place to discuss literature and culture.

Finally, I attended the 6th annual Victorian Popular Fiction Association conference which was on the theme of 'Victorian Treasures and Trash'. I attended this conference last year and it was brilliant. I'm pleased to say that this one was exactly the same. Spread over three days, there were plenty of papers to hold my attention, dealing with some Victorians I know a fair bit about and some of whom I know absolutely nothing. There's something equally fascinating and terrifying about being in a room with a heap of Victorian experts but they're all lovely people. I didn't get the chance to talk to some people I wanted to but that was partly due to time and partly due to my shyness going into overdrive. I did spend a lot of time hiding but I was there. That's the important thing.

My paper was on the Thursday morning and was a completely different creature to the Oxford and Nottingham papers. While they focused on the collaboration rumours surrounding Edmund Yates, this one delved into textual analysis and comparison to Dickens in a paper called 'Bleak House to Black Sheep: Literacy and the Street Boy'. I was fortunate to be on a panel with Sarah Lill (Northumbria University), whose paper on Edward Lloyd was both fascinating and slotted most neatly in alongside mine. There were too many excellent papers to name and I wouldn't want to leave anybody out so let me just say that it was a brilliant conference with some thought-provoking panels.

All of these conferences have thrown up things I want to now read, whether related to my research interests or not. Thanks to Oxford, I need to get more acquainted with Dickens's Christmas journals, read some Marilynne Robinson and delve - quite carefully - into George Moore. Nottingham taught me that I need to finally read The Pickwick Papers and dramatically improve my knowledge of Mary Elizabeth Braddon's 'lesser' novels. The VPFA gave me a lot of potential reading material including stories by Louisa Baldwin, Dr Paull's Theory by A.M. Diehl, Behind the Mask by Louisa May Alcott and a few texts on stammering from the nineteenth century. I may also give The Mill on the Floss another shot.

It's been a busy five weeks but rewarding nonetheless. I only hope my papers proved as interesting to others as theirs did to me.

Book Review: Nicholas Nickleby by Charles Dickens

First serialised from 1838-39, The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby, to give it its full title, is exactly what it purports to be: the story of Nicholas Nickleby, a young man who loses his father and his home and travels to London with his mother and sister to throw themselves on the mercy of his father's brother, Ralph. However, Ralph hates Nicholas and his 'help' consists of finding him a job in the worst place he can think of at the time. Nicholas duly travels to a terrible school in Yorkshire while his sister, Kate, is left at the mercy of Ralph.

For the most part, I enjoyed Nicholas Nickleby, although I do think it drifted off on occasion. There are some deliberate filler-scenes, such as the travelling stories in the inn, which draw you from the main story, and I was rather impatient for the Portsmouth sojourn to end. That's not to say that some of characters and situations there weren't entertaining, just that it seemed to be a contrivance for keeping Nicholas out of London.

Nicholas himself is a very morally good character, though one humanised by his touches of temper. However, some of the smaller characters are much more memorable; for example, the rates-collector Mr Lillyvick, who is ensnared by an actress, and Miss La Creevy, the first friend the Nicklebys make in London. A few characters just irritated me personally, including Mr and Mrs Mantalini (although I liked Miss Knag) and Mrs Nickleby. Her comic silliness became very annoying and, to be perfectly honest, I didn't want her to survive the novel - or the chapter, come to that.

This is Dickens so there are some excellent societal commentaries peppered throughout. The most potent of these probably comes from one of the novel's most famous characters, the Yorkshire headmaster Wackford Squeers who mistreats the boys under his care quite viciously. However, Ralph Nickleby is a font of wisdom, betraying the dark thoughts of the fortunate in relation to the less so. I found Ralph to be a far more interesting character than the hero, particularly when humanised by the affection he develops for his niece. For me, he was the central character and I cared less about Nicholas in the final pages than I did the supporting cast. Perhaps this was because Nicholas's love for Madeline felt ridiculous in places. I cared less about them marrying than I did about, say, poor Smike's unrequited love.

The characters from this novel who'll live with me are Smike, Squeers and Ralph Nickleby - not much of a commentary on Nicholas himself!

*This book was read as part of the 'Chunkster Challenge 2014' - details here.

Book Review: The Emancipated by George Gissing

First published in 1890, The Emancipated tells the story of a group of English people who encounter each other in Naples. Miriam Baske, a young and recent widow, has travelled abroad with the Spences to regain her health. Also in the area is artist Ross Mallard, an under-appreciated landscape painter. During his stay, his ward and Miriam's cousin Cecily Doran arrives with her chaperone, Mrs Lessingham. It soon becomes clear that Mallard has feelings for his ward but tries to battle them by remaining aloof from her. Also arriving in Naples, though, is Miriam's brother Reuben who immediately takes a shine to the new and improved Cecily. He is a useless young man who hopes to make a career in literature but has no definite plans. Mallard tries to steer him away from Cecily but this proves hopeless and matters are taken out of his hands.

There are a few things I found difficult with this novel. Firstly, the scope is off-putting. As well as the characters mentioned there are various others we are introduced to, and share the lives and thoughts of, including the Denyers - a mother and her three daughters who she has made as pretentious as possible. They are searching for husbands. Madeline has a potential suitor in another artist, Clifford Marsh, while Barbara is cultivating a friendship with the older Mr Musslewhite. Gissing diverges far too much from his main plot to deal with these situations, and to little effect. The novel would have been better if it had been more compact and focused solely on the thoughts and feelings of the main players. The Denyers do create a neat contrast to Cecily, though, and what happens to Madeline in the second half of the book makes her marginally more interesting.

However, all that said, Cecily is a rather boring character with little personality, especially in the first half of the book. She's a typical nineteenth-century woman, attractive to three of the men in the novel in an almost tiresome way. Far more interesting is Miriam, a Puritan who battles with her religious devotion and struggles at first to immerse herself in the beauty of Italy in case she is betraying her values. Her alteration throughout the novel is measured well by Gissing and she is by far his most successful character in The Emancipated. Ross Mallard is a reasonable creation and it's his growing relationship with Miriam that fascinated me most.

Another issue I had with the book was the fact that the first quarter seems to be a travel guide to Italy. After saying that the beauty of Naples is so well-known that it needn't be described, Gissing spends a lot of time describing it. This means that the story doesn't feel like it gets going until later on. Actually I pinpointed this on the Kindle copy I was reading from as 44% of the way through - at that point I began to want to know what would happen next. This desire didn't kick in properly, however, until three-quarters of the way through the book. I was glad I persevered with it but I know many people probably wouldn't bother.

Book Review: New Grub Street by George Gissing

New Grub Street is a biting analysis of literary London in the late nineteenth century. First published in 1891, it tells the story of a group of writers and their dependants. Jasper Milvain fashions himself as a 'modern' literary man, someone who will turn his hand to anything and fully expects it to be forgotten as soon as it has been read. He aims for financial success, not literary merit. In sharp opposition to him is his face, Edwin Reardon, a man of considerable talent who has faded under the grip of poverty. He cannot write well and so does not want to write at all. His wife, Amy, despairs of what she sees as his inability to try and a break emerges between them. In addition to this trio, other important characters in the novel include Milvain's sisters, Maud and Dora, who move to London when their mother dies and try to support themselves writing fiction, Harold Biffen, another impoverished writer, and the Yule family. Amy's cousin, Marian, catches Jasper's eye early in the novel but her poverty repels him. Marian has been helping her father, Alfred, research and write for years and dislikes her life. Both Amy and Marian live in the hope of a small legacy from their paternal uncle which would alleviate their stresses.

The main characters in this novel are easily distinguishable, though occasionally the supporting cast of names can get a little confusing. But, for the most part, this novel is about Milvain and Reardon and their differing fortunes. The depiction of Milvain towards the end of the book is very clever: although his star has risen, there's the sense that something is missing from his life. This provides an ambiguous conclusion to a life where everything has been decided on businesslike terms.

For Reardon, life is completely different. Once he and Amy part, there is the sense of inevitability about his fate and perhaps Gissing dwells too much on his poverty. However, as a character, he serves to demonstrate that non-commercial writing, however brilliant, can lead to destitution. It's a stinging indictment of not only the literary world at the time but the public which gobbled up three volume novels of no substance and failed to appreciate the talent of 'real' storytellers. Harold Biffen is another casualty of such a system, putting much effort into a realist novel about a grocer with the full knowledge that the public will not read such a story. The dual fates of Reardon and Biffen are a sad by-product of the 'trade' of literature.

New Grub Street is an excellent, if ultimately depressing book. There are some scenes of humour - including a daring rescue from a burning building which perhaps should not be as amusing as it is - but, for the most part, it is bleak and unrelenting. No character is wholly good, in the same way that no character in wholly bad. Reardon's pride adds to the wounds inflicted by his literary failures and Biffen's sudden affection for a woman assists in his downfall. As I said above, Milvain may prosper but it may not bring him complete happiness. This is a book about fortune and about the 'trade' of literature, something as hotly debated now as it was a century ago. 

Book Review: John Marchmont's Legacy by Mary Elizabeth Braddon

John Marchmont's Legacy begins with Edward Arundel, destined for the army, bumping into his old teacher, the title character, working on a London stage. There is a hope that Marchmont will come into property but, until then, he and his young daughter, Mary, are living in poverty. Thanks to Edward's kindness, John Marchmont trusts him with the welfare of his daughter if they come into the inheritance and he dies. John is particularly worried about the ambitions of his brother, Paul Marchmont. John does come into his property and decides to marry Edward's cousin, Olivia, to provide a good mother figure for Mary. What he doesn't know is that Olivia has been in love with Edward for years and only marries him because Edward doesn't want her. After John's death, however, the household changes and when Edward falls in love with Mary, it's something Olivia struggles to accept. And then Paul Marchmont arrives...

By far, the most interesting character in this novel is Olivia. Her love for Edward pervades the novel, even though she accepts it's a damaging love, and the jealousy which emerges from it is inevitable but still fascinating to read. In comparison, the nice Mary feels somewhat like a cardboard cut out. Her courtship with Edward is very sentimental and childish in tone. Mary doesn't seem to grow up out of the child Edward first encounters and is subsequently made something of an angel. Of course, this works as an excellent contrast to Olivia but it also serves to highlight that Olivia is one of Braddon's best creations while Mary languishes amongst the stereotypical insipid 'good' heroines of sensation fiction.

The plot suffers from an abundance of coincidental incidents, as many sensation novels do. Being a seasoned reader of the form, I'd pretty much ascertained what was going to happen a few chapters in with John's prophetic mistrust of his brother and Olivia's pervading love for Edward. It did mean that I spent a good proportion of the second half of the novel frustrated and waiting for the inevitable revelation.

I also detected a problem which it seems Braddon struggled with - the introduction of another 'good' heroine, Belinda, which essentially creates a surplus going into the final pages. I'll allow you to discover for yourself how this is resolved.

Ultimately, John Marchmont's Legacy is a good novel mainly because of Olivia Marchmont. Of all the characters within these pages, she's the one that lingers.

Book Review: Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell

Cranford is a rather episodic novel, first published in 1851. Told from the viewpoint of Mary Smith, a frequent visitor to the town, it shines brief lights on various episodes in the town's history generally involving a set of core characters including Miss Matty Jenkyns, Miss Pole and Mrs Jamieson. There is no real plot running throughout the novel, although things do reoccur.

I found the episodic nature of the novel rather difficult to deal with. No sooner had I become involved in one storyline than I had to get to grips with another. It was frustrating, too, the way characters dipped in and out of the novel. Nevertheless, other people may see this as a strength of the book - you can pick it up, read a few chapters, put it down and then start a brand new section when you're ready. Personally, I prefer coherent, long-running narratives but that's not to say I didn't enjoy Cranford.

Gaskell's light-hearted and satirical style is just right. Mary Smith relates more than comments on incidents, allowing the reader to draw out the truths within them. Each character is also perfectly rounded with their distinctive voices and personalities. The upright Deborah Jenkyns, particularly, is excellent. Perhaps my one criticism of characterisation comes from the narrator herself but, then, she's supposed to be a vehicle for the events of Cranford to be seen through rather than a part of them herself.

All in all, I enjoyed Cranford, although I found it difficult to stick with. It managed to surprise me, mostly because it jumped around so much, and I was sad to reach the low-key ending.

Book Review: A Lady of Quality by Frances Hodgson Burnett

A Lady of Quality, first published in 1896, is one of Frances Hodgson Burnett's novels for adults and treads a completely different path to her famous work The Secret Garden. It tells the story of Clorinda Wildairs and is set in the 1600s. Her mother dies giving birth to her and her father has no interest in his three daughters. He lives a life of debauchery while his youngest daughter picks up some interesting habits in the stables. When he comes across the child and sees her riding his favourite horse, he takes a fancy to her. For a few years she is the renowned companion of drunkards until she transforms herself to catch a husband. One is particularly taken with her but her refusal has reverberations through the years.

I have to say, I struggled with this one. The heroine is too changeable. She goes from being the companion of a bunch of old men to being the prize débutante to being a perfect wife. There are a lot of changes in her character the reader's meant to accept just because she's stunningly beautiful and wondrous and everyone loves her - as we are told on numerous occasions.

Frequently, I felt as if I was actually reading a novel. The handiwork was evident and it was jarring. Two thirds in, the book suddenly becomes interesting with an unexpected event that I expected to throw the heroine into turmoil. It didn't and her life continued pretty much in the same vein. I felt cheated by the ending and more than a little irate at the time I'd wasted with Clorinda.

Far more interesting, though, was her sister, Anne, who is meek and mild and knows everything Clorinda does. For me, Anne is the actual lady of quality and not her beautiful, fabulous sister.

This book suffered from a lack of direction and the ability of the author to immerse herself so much in the heroine at the cost of believability. Not a great read by any stretch of the imagination.

Book Review: Villette by Charlotte Bronte

Villette tells the story of Lucy Snowe as she leaves England to take her chances in France. She ends up teaching in a school owned by the imperious Madame Beck. She reconnects with old friends and has a tempestuous relationship with fellow teacher, M. Paul Emanuel, which finally becomes the main thrust of the book. Prior to that, we see her infatuation with her godmother's son, Dr Bretton, and his infatuations with their mutual friends, Ginerva Fanshawe and Polly Home.

One of my problems with Villette was how disjointed the first third of the book is. We see a collection of events which seem to have no significance. Although they all conspire to add to the plot later, it is very difficult to feel grounded as we slip from Lucy's time with her godmother to her time as an assistant then join her on the boat to France. Until she joins Madame Beck's establishment, the narrative doesn't really settle. Even then, there are periods where the narrator gets lost in describing one sequence of events and abandons characters for long periods of time. In that respect, it's a difficult novel to read.

I did enjoy the way that Bronte developed M. Paul Emanuel, building his role up gradually until he actually became all I cared about. I had difficulty connecting with Lucy Snowe as a protagonist at first because I didn't really understand her - the later interactions with M. Paul Emanuel, from his fete day onwards, made her a more interesting character for me. Madame Beck, also, is an extraordinary creation who is the compelling presence in any scene she appears in. However, alongside these two fascinating characters you have distinct, and perhaps boring, types of the 'good doctor', the 'flirt' the 'precocious child grown up into a splendid woman'. Half of the novel felt manufactured and the other half felt original.

The descriptions of place were, though, remarkable, particularly when Lucy walks around Villette at night and stumbles upon a party. Equally, the mystery of the ghostly nun adds atmosphere to the centre of the novel. There are some memorable scenes, including the aforementioned fete scene between Lucy and M. Paul Emanuel, but also the moment when Lucy wakes up in a familiar yet unfamiliar setting and finds herself amongst friends.

This novel blends the journey of one individual with the world around her. The religious barrier that erects itself at various times is both integral to the story and frustrating to the reader. I have to say, though, I hated the ambiguous ending. Everybody else got a final send-off but the character I've spent hundreds of pages trying to like is denied finality - it meant I concluded Villette with the same ambivalent feeling I'd read most of the book with.

Book Review: Agnes Grey by Anne Bronte

Agnes Grey tells the story of a young woman who wants to help her impoverished family by going out to work as a governess. The first family she works for is troublesome to say the least and so she leaves. The second family she finds a position with include a flirty girl who enjoys mischief-making and could easily quash Agnes's one chance at true happiness.

There were some excellent passages of description in this one and also some interesting sparring dialogue between Agnes and Mr Weston, the curate and the object of her affections. In some ways, these conversations reminded me a little of Emma and Mr Knightly in Jane Austen's Emma. There are little segues within the novel to tell other small stories, the most striking of these being Nancy Brown's tale. The descriptions of the children and their misbehaving aren't overdone, although the overall effect of them is to make you question how frequently this was the experience of Victorian governesses - this is an alarming prospect!

Is Agnes too idealistic a heroine? In parts she certainly seems too bland but this in part is made up by the way the other characters behave on the page. Rosalie, the eldest daughter in the second family Agnes works for is an interesting one - toying with men's affections, deliberately trying to entice Mr Weston once she realises that Agnes is drawn to him and, ultimately, discovering that the life her mother wanted for her is a miserable one. Equally, I found Mr Weston an interesting character and most of the children Agnes encounters caught my attention too. Fundamentally, Agnes has to be a bit too noble in order to put up with what she does. I don't think it damaged my enjoyment of the novel at all.

While I didn't like Agnes Grey as much as I liked The Tenant of Wildfell Hall (reviewed here), it is a very good book. Evocative and thought-provoking, it again mad me sad that we never got the chance to read more from Anne.

Book Review: Ruth by Elizabeth Gaskell

Ruth tells the story of an inexperienced orphan who is seduced and then abandoned by a man while they are on a trip together in Wales. She is discovered on the brink of suicide by Dissenting minister Mr Benson and he and his sister decide to take Ruth and the baby she is carrying back home with them, passing her off as a young widow. She gives birth to her son, Leonard, and becomes a governess to a local family. However, the scenario eventually unravels and Ruth is forced to prove her penitence once again.

I found Ruth rather refreshing in some respects and rigidly traditional in others. The treatment of Ruth by the author and Mr and Miss Benson battles against the mid-Victorian values by accentuating the fact that she was naive and unworldly and is now wholly penitent. This image of a woman not completely condemned and allowed to try and redeem herself is a tonic when faced with a large body of Victorian fiction that rails against this kind of repentance. However, the problem then becomes that Ruth's goodness must be accentuated to the point that there is no real room for manoeuvre as far as characterisation goes. Ruth must be beyond reproach for the novel to work and that means Gaskell ultimately sacrifices a degree of believability.

None of this is to say that I didn't completely enjoy the book. I worried with it, I cried with it and I mourned with it. Some characters came and went in the early chapters but I was happy to discover that after this many of the principle characters remained the same. I was a little distracted when the viewpoint suddenly shifted from Ruth/the Bensons to Jemima Bradshaw. It felt very sudden but I finally settled into it.

There were several notable scenes within the novel which have lingered. Ruth's foray into her old home in the early chapters; Benson's trek after her when he fears she is about to destroy herself and her meeting with Bellingham on the beach, to name but three. The scenes with Leonard, too, were usually well handled, avoiding excessive emotion for the most part and so maintaining the illusion of reality.

Gaskell sketches some memorable individuals but also creates a good sense of community, particularly in the final third of the novel. Ruth evidently had a social purpose but it sacrificed surprisingly little in the way of plot to accommodate it. An excellent read for an alternative view of the 'fallen woman' in mid-Victorian fiction.

Book Review: Far From The Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy

This was my third foray into Hardy's fiction following Tess of the d'Urbervilles (read for A-Levels) and The Mayor of Casterbridge (review here). Far from the Madding Crowd tells the story of Gabriel Oak, a shepherd, and the young woman he admires, Bathsheba Everdene. While at the beginning of the novel Oak is fairly prosperous and Bathsheba forced to live with her aunt, in a reversal typical of Hardy, Oak soon finds himself reduced in status and ends up working for Bathsheba who has inherited her uncle's farm in Weatherby. He still carries a torch for her but recognises she's far above him and uninterested. They become friends and, meanwhile, another farmer, Boldwood, falls deeply in love with Bathsheba. As she's contemplating her answer to his proposal, she encounters a dashing soldier, Sergeant Troy, who she's immediately attracted to. Troy has previously been involved with one of Bathsheba's maids who fled the town but only Boldwood and Oak know this.

I have to say, Hardy's descriptions of nature (and man against nature) are almost unsurpassed. There are a few scenes of particular merit which linger in my mind. Firstly, the scene where Oak stops to help when he sees a fire in the distance and, ultimately, proves his merit to all around. Secondly, the thunderstorm where Oak and Bathsheba battle to save the crops is remarkably written. Evocative and subtle, developing the relationship between the two alongside the more urgent task. Finally, the moment where a grave is almost washed away is beautiful, although I won't say more about that in case I ruin the plot for anyone. However, while I enjoyed much of Hardy's descriptions of place and activity throughout the novel, I must admit that the random conversations between Bathsheba's farm hands became a little tedious. Probably designed for a little light relief, some of them provided it but some meandered off in odd directions and never quite make it back. The moment Oak gets irritated with them for their digressions mirrored how I'd been feeling throughout the book!

Although I read the first half of this one slowly, I whizzed through the second half. A combination of unexpected character developments pushed me onto the end. I will say, though, that once these developments take place, there is only one real possibility for the final pages. Still, knowing that didn't make me enjoy the book less.

Gabriel Oak is an excellent character. Whilst loyal, he also has pride and a stubborn streak to match Bathsheba's. His quiet devotion to her throughout the novel, alongside all the wonderful descriptions, is probably why I enjoyed this one as much as I did. 

Book Review: Tom-All-Alone's by Lynn Shepherd

Tom-All-Alone's is a very clever novel which takes Charles Dickens's Bleak House as its starting point. Charles Maddox is an ex-police officer struggling to make his way as a private detective after being unfairly dismissed from the force. Lawyer Edward Tulkinghorn approaches him with an apparently simple request to find out who has been sending threatening letters to a client of his. Maddox accepts but soon realises that the case is more complex than it seems and his headstrong urge to uncover the truth may put him in real danger.

As the title suggests, the book draws heavily on Bleak House but it isn't necessary to have read it, I don't think, in order to enjoy this one. For fans of Dickens there are numerous little nudges towards one of his greatest novel, characters passing through the narrative who you click your fingers at noticing. But Shepherd's own plot is fascinating, not just because it involves the mysterious Tulkinghorn. Maddox is an interesting character to follow around the dregs of London society but the most engaging portions of the novel, for me, came during his interactions with his ageing uncle, also a former detective who's gradually losing his grip on reality.

Shepherd's ability to bring the underbelly of Dickensian London to the fore is remarkable. There are several gruesome moments which I won't spoil but I will say that I had to continue reading just to distance myself from the scenes described - that's one way of pushing you to finish a book, although in this case I was eager to anyway.

The phrase that came back to me time and again as I was reading this was 'indecently clever'. That's certainly  an apt description of Shepherd's powers to merge Bleak House (and other sources but I won't say what) with her own story. It manages to be both a homage to Dickens and an exceptional read in its own right. I honestly can't say more than that apart from that I highly recommend it.

Book Review: The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte

Like most people, I seem to have neglected Anne Bronte. I'm in the middle of reading Juliet Barker's mammoth The Brontes and so decided to take a break and read The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. I'll admit that I wasn't expecting much. What actually happened was me realizing that I perhaps preferred this to both Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights.

The novel is essentially a letter from Gilbert Markham to his brother-in-law. The first section focuses on Gilbert's attendance on a new addition to the area, the mysterious tenant of the title, a Mrs Graham. She has a small son, Arthur, and is little reluctant to ingratiate herself in local affairs. Gilbert falls in love with her, though there are rumours that she's conducting a relationship with his friend, Frederick Lawrence. Helen eventually gives him a manuscript which explains her unhappy marriage to a drunkard and adulterer. Since I don't want to spoil the finale, I'll stop there.

What's striking about this novel is the portrayal of Helen Graham (Helen Huntingdon). To a modern reader, perhaps, her firmness in abandoning her husband (and, of course, taking her son with her) is unremarkable and expected but taken in the context of the period it's nothing short of astounding. What's more, Bronte never really suggests that Helen's in the wrong. Her portrayal of the degenerate husband is unflinchingly honest. There is one section in particular where Huntingdon and his friends really push the boundaries of respectability while staying at the Huntingdon home, Grassdale. The sustained scene of debauchery sticks in my memory as probably the most powerful in the book.

There are a couple of niggles, as with any novel. Essentially, we have to get to know two circles of friends and this proved especially tricky for me when we came back from Helen's diaries to Gilbert's own narrative. Remembering the intricacies of those relationships took me a little while. Equally, the final few chapters felt a little fragmented because of the events taking place over a period of time and involving several quick changes in the circumstances of the protagonists. That said, I'm nit-picking, trying to find fault with a novel I really enjoyed. It gave me food for thought but also managed to surprise me with its honesty. Not a lesser novel at all but a thoroughly excellent one. I'm not surprised Charlotte refused to have it reprinted after Anne's death!

My Favourite Books of 2012

When I glanced through the list of books I've read this year (full list here) I groaned: how was I supposed to pick five out of that wonderful list that have been somehow better than the others? I had to limit myself to one Dickens, for instance, because other authors deserved a look in. It's a tricky one, this literary life.

Judy, A Legendary Film Career by John Fricke

This accessible analysis, full of quotes and pictures, covers the film career of my favourite actress ever. Many of the pictures were new to me and I gleaned so many titbits from this. In addition, it's a gorgeous book to hold and read. Perfection. You can read my full review here.

 The Somnambulist by Essie Fox

A wonderfully atmospheric novel set in Victorian England telling the story of several women intertwined by their pasts.This has some memorable scenes that have lingered with me. You can read my full review here.

Troubles by J.G. Farrell

An evocative look at the Irish Troubles in 1919, via the medium of Major Brendan Archer, a soldier who goes to reclaim his fiancé. He finds himself in a dilapidated hotel surrounded by dilapidated guests and gets sucked into their lives through no fault of his own. You can read my full review here.

Gillespie and I by Jane Harris

A difficult one to describe without giving away the plot but I will say this is an enormously atmospheric and spine-tingling read that leaves you wanting to read the whole thing again. You can read my full review here.

Bleak House by Charles Dickens

One of the early books I read this year has endured. It's a mammoth work but quite possibly Dickens's best (that's always up for debate). A humorous, poignant and suitably complex book that I won't tire of rereading. You can read my full review here. 

A Classics Challenge: December Wrap Up

Well, I technically failed this challenge, reading only six classics throughout the year when the target was a minimum of seven. I think we'll blame this on Charles Dickens since the challenge ended up being 'The Charles Dickens Classics Challenge With Two Other Books Thrown In'. So what books did I manage to read as part of the challenge?

• I started off in January with Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens (review here, prompt post here). 
• In February I took a hiatus from all other books to indulge in Bleak House which is by far my favourite Dickens novel (review here, prompt post here).
• I think Bleak House exhausted me. I came back to the challenge in July with another Dickens book - The Old Curiosity Shop (review here, prompt post here).
• In August I stepped away from Dickens for the first time and read Jane Austen's Emma (review here, prompt post here).
• In September I moved onto Thomas Hardy's The Mayor of Casterbridge (review here, prompt post here).
• Finally, my December read - actually started with all good intentions back in October - was another Dickens novel, Little Dorrit (review here).

Four Dickens, one Austen and one Hardy. Not too shabby for the year, especially when you look at the lengths of Bleak House and Little Dorrit. Of course, there were some books I listed on my original challenge post that didn't get a look in: Mary Barton (Gaskell), The Mill on the Floss (Eliot), A Farewell to Arms (Hemingway) and The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman (Sterne). That's a shame for them but, honestly, this year deserved to be dedicated to Dickens. 

If I had to pick favourites I'd say it's a tie between Bleak House and Emma. I loved the depth of the former and the humour of the latter. Two very different texts but enjoyable for different reasons. That said, I didn't dislike any of these books. If I had to pick my least favourite it would probably be Oliver Twist but that's just because I enjoyed all of the others immensely. 

I'd like to thank November's Autumn for hosting this challenge and making me push myself a little. It's been great fun and I'd urge you to go read some of the other wrap-up posts listed over here to see what other people have been reading this year. 

Book Review: Little Dorrit by Charles Dickens

Although it doesn't have the depth of Bleak House (reviewed earlier in the year here), Little Dorrit has an array of characters and subplots that are enough to make your head whirl if you let them. The title character is a young woman who was born in the Marshalsea prison and has lived her life there - with certain excursions outside of the walls to make money for her family. When, eventually, her life changes beyond belief she finds herself whisked away from not only the home she knew but the man she's come to love - Arthur Clennam.

Little Dorrit contains an impressive collection of truly Dickensian characters. For instance, there's Flora, Arthur's childhood sweetheart, who has been married and widowed and now comes complete with 'Mr F's Aunt', a batty woman who announces random things and has taken quite a dislike to Arthur for no tangible reason. Flora reminds me irresistibly of Miss Bates from Jane Austen's Emma (reviewed here) - you feel like you need a sit down after all of her appearances as she rabbits on and confuses even the most attentive reader. Other stand-out characters include the grotesque Mr Flintwinch, Arthur's mother's business partner, and the excellent Mr Pancks, a man who has been content to do 'difficult' work all his life because that's just what life is but the worm eventually turns. I have to admit, I was actually cheering when it happened. Such a Victorian 'comeuppance' but satisfying to the reader nonetheless.

On occasion, the subplots of this novel become a little blurred and take up too much time. That's a pitfall of serial publication but Dickens's prose style kept me interested throughout. Of particular amusement were the descriptions of the Circumlocution Office - a timely reminder that bureaucracy is a needless waste of resources and we'd be well advised to take the same lesson from that satirical depiction as the Victorians were encouraged to. As with most Dickens novels, the parallels between his era and ours are startling but they do focus on enduring human characteristics: people will cheat, manipulate, have a change of fortune, become jealous, fall in love and hide it for all eternity and perhaps it is those qualities which make Little Dorrit as readable today as it was in the 1850s. Add to the characterisation and plot the amusing depictions of London and, most poignantly, the depictions of the Marshalsea and you have an excellent book on your hands. This wouldn't make a good introduction to Dickens for those who haven't read any of his work before but it's certainly a good addition to the canon.