A long-overdue update.
- Mansfield Park – Jane Austen
This, I have learned, is not your average Austen, but something much more difficult, darker and more complex. There is a great weight of learned critical opinion on the subject, that will probably be considerably more useful to the reader than any remarks I can string together. So all I shall do is direct interested parties on to more detailed sources, and give my personal impressions of the book.
First the more learned sources:
* Austen.com: http://www.austen.com/mans/
* Internet Public Library: http://www.ipl.org/div/litcrit/bin/litcrit.out.pl?ti=man-142 – a long list of onward links
* The Antigua Connection: http://www.uwichill.edu.bb/bnccde/antigua/conference/papers/davis.htmlNow for my humble opinion:
This is an odd one, for it seems obvious from the first few pages what the outcome of the plot must be, and the tension in the book is seeing how this outcome will be achieved. The author indicates where our sympathies should lie, and then makes it hard to sympathise with the people she suggests because they are, to be frank, such dreadful prigs. This is an intensely multi-layered narrative – we seem to see the endorsement of a set of values about society and morality which are then torn down to their foundations by the end of the book. The theme of romantic happiness, which seems at some points to be given such significance, and which figures so profoundly and satisfyingly in other works by the author, not least Pride and Prejudice, is ultimately treated almost superficially. It does have all the classic things one would expect to find in Austen's work – the biting social satire, the spot-on depictions of certain types of character and the build-up of genuine suspence as to the physical and moral welfare of the heroine. But, all in all, this is not a place to start with Jane Austen, however it is a book that is able to inform and influence our views of the rest of her work to great advantage and something that will be enjoyed by the Austen enthusiast. If you are not one of those, probably better to stick to Pride and Prejudice, Northanger Abbey or Emma which are all the sort of rolling, witty, amusing reads that it is hard to put down once you have started them. - The Accusers – Lindsey Davis
Our shelves are groaning with Falco novels and this one more than earns its inch or two of space – it is a splendid return to form, Falco at his very best. Cynical and irreverent, he reminds me here of the Falco that we knew and loved early in the series, before he became weighed down with the cares of a paterfamilias. The plot is a departure – back in Rome after an extended (and most unwelcome) tour of Britain, Falco is keen to re-establish himself and the two upper-class hangers-on that he just seems to have picked up somewhere in the informing business. He does this by entering a line of work that the classicists among the audience will recognise as somewhat traditional for informers, but which is a departure for Falco and which comes damn close to leading to ruination for him, Helena and the whole Camillus family. Anyone not already reading this series will be kicking themselves when they eventually start, because it is so good. This is an excellent book, from an author that is not averse to putting her hero into genuine danger and just as adept at credibly fishing him back out – on one occasion (not in this novel) with the help of a long rope and a band of burly Vigiles. Her great achievement is that we care deeply about what happens to Falco and Helena – don't be put off by the Roman setting, this series is a cracking crime story, it's humorous and it's an absolutely epic love story too. This novel wouldn't be a bad place to start if you've never picked up a Falco story before.
* Lindsey Davis' excellent website: http://www.lindseydavis.co.uk/
- Mountains of the Mind – Robert MacFarlane
This was a revelatory read, at a time when everything I saw or read seemed to be to do with the dangers of mountaineering – Touching The Void on the telly, an 'extreme rescue' programme about a group of army colleagues that went up a mountain 'for fun' somewhere in North America and got themselves into terrible trouble. Stuff about Everest, including a chap who tried – and failed – to climb it as part of some ghastly reality TV experiment. Michael Palin feeling terrible thanks to altitude sickness in Himalaya. Stuff on Mallory.
I don't climb mountains. I have no head for heights. But I have to confess to suffering from the thing that forms the central premise of Robert MacFarlane's fascinating book. It is this: when contemplating mountaineering or (in my case) certain other forms of demanding outdoor activity, the contemplation and remembrance of the activity are totally divorced from the actual experience of doing it. Put another way, we anticipate it, we have very firm notions of what we will get from it. We look back on it with fond remembrance and use that to inform our decisions to do the same thing again. But, while actually doing it, we experience any of the following pain; fear; nausea; vertigo; hunger and thirst; we may actually do ourselves long-term physical damage. I was reading this book while hiking 80 miles along the Cornish coast, and it made a lot of sense of what I was experiencing. As Terry Pratchett once rather amusingly said about writing, many people want to have done it rather than actually do it.
MacFarlane is an academic by trade, and it shows – this is a thoroughly-researched history of our fascination with mountains, altitude and the cold. But it is transformed into something more by the inclusion of his personal reminiscences of climbs all over the world, and of marvellous illustrations. And also by its compelling central premise. MacFarlane won a first book award from The Guardian for this, and got a huge amount of stick from the mountaineering community as a result for, apparently, not being 'enough of a climber' to be permitted to have thoughts along these lines. I think that's rubbish and it's one of those rare books that changes the way you look at the world. It has certainly knocked a lot of silly notions out of me – being someone who can barely look at a hill or mountain without wanting to stand at the top. It has banished the regrets I had about turning back from a climb of Mount Esja in Reykjavik (one of those you can walk up) when fog came down. I'd love to see Everest base camp, but know that I'll never get any further than that. Which is a good thing. Honestly.
- PD James – A Certain Justice
Another author occupying a couple of feet of shelf space chez nous and I have been heavily involved with her recently, re-reading a number of her earlier works and filling in the gaps in my collection by rooting around on eBay for some very particular editions. This book was one of the more noticeable absentees, and it explores the author's preoccupation with closed communities that has seen her site novels in a nurses' residence, a publishing house, a seminary and, most recently, a private museum. This one deals with legal London – the murder is in an exclusive set of chambers in the Middle Temple where her geography is almost, if not quite, entirely realistic (if possible a visit while you are reading the book will enhance the experience greatly, and you will be able to do some Da Vinci Code tourism and visit Temple Church too.) This is, naturally, a Dalgliesh mystery and is a very accomplished read. I think one of the most attractive things about PD James is the atmosphere she manages to create, and this one is spot-on with a great deal of suspense generated in the build-up to the final scenes. Without giving away too much of the plot, it is one of those where Dalgleish does not entirely get his way, which is good for him from time to time, I suppose, as it stops him from appearing too much of an intellectual Superman. In my opinion, another textbook murder mystery, which is also a literary novel, and worth a place in anyone's collection.