I Know What I Like, and I Like What I Know

The same Salon article I mentioned in my post about recommending books briefly discusses one way to evaluate what makes you enjoy a book/what you look for in books, with the idea that knowing that can help you select other books with those characteristics and thereby improve your ability to choose books you’ll enjoy. The method involves thinking of your favorite books, and then selecting various phrases that apply to why you like that book. Some relate to the prose, others towards having a gripping plot, etc.

I never thought of myself as someone who likes a book because of the prose. Perhaps this is because I’m not a fan of some of the authors most renown for the “language” of their works (cough Austen cough). However, when I think of many of my favorite books from the list, many are ones where I found certain passages or quotes to be incredibly beautiful (The Ground Beneath Her Feet, The House in Paris, and God of Small Things in particular). I don’t mean flowery prose, so much as prose with a certain intensity to it, prose that I have to stop reading because it’s touched me on some level and I need to step back.

When I think of my favorites, I also tend to gravitate to ones that have unique or unusual characters, and even more so ones that have interesting relationships among characters. Wings of the Dove, the only Henry James I’ve liked thus far, stands out because of those interesting relationships; one main strength of The Forsyte Saga is the different relationships between men and women/the different relationships within marriages that it explores. The Idiot and The Robber Bride don’t rank among my favorites per se, but the main reason I liked them was because of the relationships in the stories (and in general I do not mean romantic relationships at all; in The Idiot I mean the relationship between the two leading ladies, and in The Robber Bride I mean the trio’s friendship).

I do think of myself as a plot person, but in general works on the list don’t stand out because of their plots (exceptions to that would be Count of Monte Cristo, noir novels, and anything by Le Carre). World building is also important to me, but like the right shoes or the appropriate bra, it has a bit of a thankless role. You notice if it is off or shoddily done, but when done right you don’t necessarily notice or give it credit.

The next post that I’ll write in this vein will focus on some of the different reasons/ways that a book’s presence on the list is justified in my mind (in a general way, rather than the justification of specific works, which I’ve already undertaken).

Can I Persaude You to Leave?

I was thinking the other day about how I’ll probably never be able to work as a bouncer. My voice is too quiet, I’m probably too small, women don’t tend to be bouncers, and I sort of look like a little girl sometimes (I still get carded for R rated movies).

Now, I don’t particularly want to work as a bouncer or anything. I have very little patience for drunk people, and I’m not into the bar or club scene. I’m not a night person, either, so I’d likely really hate the work. At the same time, it’s sort of sad in some ways. I have a strong misanthropic scene, and I enjoy telling people that they can’t do something or need to leave. When I was ushering last week, I was thrilled to be a Petal Pincher Prohibiter (I got to tell people not to steal rose petals that were part of the set). I love reporting people who take pictures. I think being a bouncer might let me take advantage this aspect of my personality.

What, you may ask, does this have to do with Persuasion? Essentially nothing.

Well, that’s not completely true. First, I should mention, that I actually really enjoyed Austen’s final tome. I’m not usually an Austen fan (at all; Pride and Prejudice does nothing for me, except bug), but I liked Anne as a heroine. There weren’t any characters, even some of her more irritating relations, that I wanted to maim with hot-metal objects. I wanted Anne and Wentworth to get together, and I enjoyed reading and then immediately re-reading the part where that finally happened.

At the same time, I can’t help but think about how boring it would be to be one of the female characters in an Austen novel. They never get to do anything. They having dilettantish accomplishments, go on walks, and silently pine. I'd lose my mind. I would not be able to handle it.

Which is where being a bouncer, sort of comes in (at least in my rather convoluted brain). Perhaps it's because of seeing the Jane Austen fight club video, but the combination of my thoughts on being a bouncer and my thoughts on how boring it would be to exist in an Austen novel, gave me this image of Jane Austen characters as bouncers, which I just cannot get out of my head. The picture of Mr. Darcy in this role is the one that cracks me up the most.

Sense and Sensibility, The Moor's Last Sigh, The House in Paris, and Fingersmith

Well, I am extremely behind. Since my last post, I’ve read several. My run down n each will be short and sweet. It also won’t be chronological, since I want to save Fingersmith for last, given that it’s the most spoilerable one. As always, spoiler alert for the works mentioned in the post's title.

So, with that, let’s start with that, let’s start with Sense and Sensibility, since it’s not at all possible to spoil it. If you have read any Jane Austen, seen a movie based on any Austen novel, or heard a good joke about an Austen novel, you already know what happens. If you are a young, overly charming, and too good to be true male, you are a cad who will break the heart of one of our heroines on her path to getting with the wiser, quieter, older male who at first may appear rude. Like The Woman in White, my ships got off with this one. I would have had Elinor get with Brandon (and I guess put Marianne with Ferrars or given her a few years to grow up a little, since Ferrars was sort of a non character anyway).

I don’t know why, but I still have a minor fear of Rushdie. This is completely irrational, since once I start reading, I remember that I love his writing. It is so incredibly rich; every page is just overflowing. I don’t think you could ever describe his works as derivative, per se, but The Moor’s Last Sigh definitely re-explored similar territory to some of his other novels (particularly Midnight’s Children, I thought). That being said, the character of Aurora is probably one of my favorites of Rushdie.

The House in Paris had the most beautiful quote in it. “Good-byes breed a sort of distaste for whomever you say good-bye to; this hurts, you feel, this must not happen again. Any other meeting will only lead back to this. If today good-bye is not final, some day it will be.” Karen is an absolutely amazing character with such conflicting desires and loyalties. She certainly isn’t completely likeable, but she feels completely real. The quote captures the essence of the story’s themes, or at least the themes that struck a chord with me.

And now for Fingersmith. This novel had a number of twists, where you think you know what’s happening, and then the perspective shifts and you have to reevaluate what you thought you knew and understood, and the picture changes. In many cases multiple twists don’t work too well (not a high-brow example by any stretch of the imagination, but Titan AE anyone?), but in this case, they do work, mostly because Susan and Maud are excellent.

I guess the theme of this post would be, amazing female characters. I’ll save Persuasion, Watchmen, and The Three Musketeers for the next one (technically, I’m still reading that last one, but it moves super quickly).