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review 2017-01-08 22:56
Books of 1916: Part One
Uneasy Money - P.G. Wodehouse
These Twain - Arnold Bennett
The Roll-Call - Arnold Bennett
Bird of Paradise (Dodo Press) - Ada Leverson
Tenterhooks - Ada Leverson
Love at Second Sight - Ada Leverson Love at Second Sight - Ada Leverson
Inclinations - Ronald Firbank
List of the Lost - Morrissey
Pride And Prejudice - Jane Austen
The Swimming-Pool Library - Diana Klein,Alan Hollinghurst

Books of 1916: Part One

 

2016 was a tough year in many ways, so may I introduce you to 1916? I think you’re going to love 1916.

 

I was struck by something I read in a (very nice) review of one of the books of 1916: —“because anything first published in 1916 that does not contain a word or thought about the First World War has got to be interesting.” Yes, you’d think so. But actually most of these novels make no mention of the war whatsoever. They tend to be historical, or escapist, or completely surreal.

 

You may notice that I’ve only reviewed about half as many books as I did last year for 1915. But last year I wasn’t done until March! So what you are losing in volume you are gaining in punctuality. Basically I began to feel this project was affecting my brain perhaps a little too much. My brother pointed out that I said in casual conversation, “I read that book in 1911.” I needed to dial it down just a bit.

 

Uneasy Money by PG Wodehouse

 

PG Wodehouse is always a delightful treat. I’m so happy there are more than fifty books still to come! I went by the US publication date in order to include this book, which some may consider cheating.

 

Lord Dawlish has a title but no money, so he is delighted when an eccentric millionaire leaves him all his money just because Lord Dawlish (aka Bill) gave him a few golf pointers once. But when Bill discovers that the eccentric millionaire has stiffed poor but deserving relatives, he sets out for Long Island to try to set things right. There is beekeeping, romance, people pretending to be other people, and lots of hilarity. The only sad part is something that happens to a monkey. In the end, everyone ends up engaged to the right person. On the final page we are at the train station in Islip, Long Island, which today is a gross and unappealing town, but apparently 100 years ago was a bucolic spot where the rich built mansions. If this book doesn’t make you smile, your soul is in mortal danger.

These Twain by Arnold Bennett

 

This is the third book in the Clayhanger series, and my favorite. In These Twain, the somewhat-starcrossed lovers from the first two books, Edwin and Hilda Clayhanger, embark on married life. They fight a lot. I read this book in the 1990s and haven’t re-read it, but what I remember most vividly are the descriptions of how angry they get at each other. Edwin Clayhanger thinks how he’d like to strangle Hilda, but then he goes for a walk and after a while he calms down, and when he comes home, he loves her again. At that time I was dating someone who made me really angry fairly often, and I thought These Twain was incredibly realistic. Bennett’s World-War-I-themed book (The Roll-Call) will come up in 1918, and is the last in the Clayhanger series.

 

Love at Second Sight by Ada Leverson

 

My hardcore fans (yes, both of you!) may remember that two years ago I was unable to review Birds of Paradise because I mislaid it and therefore couldn’t read it. (It turned up in the end, in a knapsack I never use.) I was eager to rectify my mistake by reading Ada Leverson’s 1916 offering, especially as this was her last novel.

 

Love at Second Sight is the last book in the Little Ottleys trilogy. Although I didn’t read the first two, it was easy to see what must have happened in them—in book one, the main character Edith must have married her husband, and then in the second one both Edith and her husband fall in love with other people but remain together thanks to Edith’s bloody-minded loyalty.

 

As this novel opens, Edith’s family has a guest in the house, and it’s unclear who she is, why she’s come to stay, and how long she plans to be there. But Madame Frabelle exercises a strange fascination over all of them. This book is terribly amusing and I’m not even going to tell you what happens, other than it’s a scream. The protagonist is thinking funny things about other people all the time but since she’s kind and fairly quiet, people don’t realize that she’s amusing and smart. The husband seems like the most annoying person on earth, and he must be drawn from life because how could you invent a person that annoying?

 

This is one of the rare books that has a contemporary setting during World War I. The husband was not called up because of a “neurotic heart,” which seems to be like PTSD. Edith’s love interest from the previous book returns home from the war, wounded. This novel’s realism allowed me to see all kinds of period details. For example, when the characters need to look up train timetables, they use things called the ABC and Bradshaw, which must be the apps they had on their phones at that time. Edith also had an Italian composer best friend who I thought might be based on Puccini since (according to Wikipedia) he and Ada Leverson were great pals.

 

I really was on the edge of my seat wondering what would happen, and guess what? Everyone gets a happy ending!

 

Ada Leverson’s Wikipedia page says cattily that after this novel, she worked on ever-smaller projects. Just like me!

 

Inclinations by Ronald Firbank

 

Firbank is a riot! This book reminds me a bit of Morrissey’s List of the Lost. Of course, that should be no surprise really, since both of them are directly related to Oscar Wilde on the literary family tree. What sets them apart is Inclinations is unalloyed comedy and nearly all dialogue.

 

What kind of inclinations does this novel concern itself with, you may ask? Well, it’s about a middle-aged writer Miss Geraldine O’Brookmore, known as Gerald, who brings a fourteen year old girl (Miss Mabel Collins) on a trip to the Mediterranean. There’s basically no description of anything or explanation of what’s happening or who is speaking, so you have to be okay with feeling unsure about what’s going on. One of the characters is shot and killed and it was chapters later that I finally understood which one. Plot is not what this book is about. This book is about lines so funny and with such a nice ring to them that I will just give you a small sampling for your enjoyment:

 

Miss Collins clasped her hands. “I’d give almost anything to be blasé.”

***

“I don’t see Mrs Cowsend, do you?”

“Breakfast was laid for four covers in her room.”

“For four!”

“Or perhaps it was only three.”

***

“She writes curiously in the style of one of my unknown correspondents.”

***

[Talking about a costume ball]:

“Oh, Gerald, you could be a silver-tasselled Portia almost with what you have, and I a Maid of Orleans.”

“You!”

“Don’t be tiresome, darling. It’s not as if we were going in boys’ clothes!”

***

“Once she bought a little calf for some special binding, but let it grow up...and now it’s a cow!”

***

“Gerald has a gold revolver. ‘Honour” she calls it.”

***

“Is your father tall?”

“As we drive I shall give you all his measurements.”

***

“I had a good time in Smyrna,” she drowsily declared.

“Only there?”

“Oh, my dears, I’m weary of streets; so weary!”

***

“I’m told she [Gerald] is a noted Vampire.”

“Who ever said so?”

“Some friend of hers—in Chelsea.”

“What do Vampires do?”

“What don’t they!”

 

If you find this sort of off-putting, these lines really do make more sense, somewhat more sense, in context. In a chapter that is eight words long (“Mabel! Mabel! Mabel! Mabel! Mabel! Mabel! Mabel! Mabel!”), Miss Mabel Collins throws off the protectoress-ship of Gerald and elopes with a count. The final section of the book is different, slightly more conventional and somewhat Jane Austen-esque (“I’ve such news!” “What is it?” “The Chase is let at last.”) In this part, the Countess (Miss Collins-that-was) returns home to England with her toddler and there’s question in some minds about whether she is properly, legally married. I’m looking forward to Firbank’s next novel in 1917.

 

I’m only just now realizing that Firbank is the author that the main character keeps reading in The Swimming Pool Library by Alan Hollinghurst. I guess I thought Alan Hollinghurst just made him up. The thing is that his name sounds so made up, just “Fairbanks” with some of the letters taken out. Ugh, I learn everything backward.

 

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review 2015-06-25 00:00
The Human Machine
The Human Machine - Arnold Bennett The Human Machine - Arnold Bennett As always, I love Bennett’s writing – it has an effect on my soul that red wine has on my brain – it makes me dizzy, content and emotional.

However, the idea of disciplining one’s mind in order to achieve one’s best sounds ridiculous to me. He talks of control of the brain all the time. One should make a habit of controlling one’s brain. Who is one? Which part of the human being can control the brain if not the brain itself? And why should it be controlled at all?

It is odd how violence in any way, shape or form is universally condemned (and rightly so), yet we still write ‘self-help’ books that teach us how to discipline the brain, control the brain, force the brain, become the master of our brain in order to be perfect and happy human beings. Apparently BDSM is good for the brain - it should be kept nicely submissive so we can fit in society and be model homo sapiens.

Thankfully, human nature is flawed enough and, as much as it has been brainwashed throughout the centuries, the human brain will always have a mind of its own.
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text 2015-01-04 23:15
Best of 1914: Part One
The Laughing Cavalier - Emmuska Orczy
Maurice - E.M. Forster
Dubliners - James Joyce
The Price of Love - Arnold Bennett
Tik-Tok of Oz - The Original Classic Edi... Tik-Tok of Oz - The Original Classic Edition - L. Frank Baum
Kokoro - Sōseki Natsume,Edwin McClellan
The Man Upstairs and Other Stories - P.G. Wodehouse
Innocent - Her Fancy and His Fact a Novel - Marie Corelli
Arundel - E. F. Benson,Sparrow Classics
Miss Billy - Married - Eleanor H. (Eleanor Hodgman) Porter

It’s 1914! What’s happening? If you are the Sakurajima Volcano in Japan, you erupt. If you are Charlie Chaplin, your screen career begins. If you are in the Bronx, you can enjoy green beer for St. Patrick’s day for the first time. If you are sailing on the Komagata Maru from India to Canada, you are denied entry and sent back because Canada doesn’t want Asian immigrants now. If you’re Shackleton, you set sail for Antarctica. If you’re Babe Ruth, you make it to the Majors. If you’re the last known passenger pigeon, you die in the zoo. If you are 687 coal miners in Japan, you are blown up in a terrible gas explosion. If you are a Jehovah’s Witness, you expect the world to end, but it doesn’t! If you’re the USA, you have some sort of misunderstanding with Mexico and invade it for the second time; sign Mother’s Day into existence; open the Federal Reserve; and open the Cape Cod Canal, turning Cape Cod into an island. If you’re Turkey, you massacre Greeks and undergo an earthquake.

 

If you’re Archduke Franz Ferdinand, it’s time to get assassinated. As I understand it, this is the outcome: Austria-Hungary declares war on Serbia, Russia supports Serbia, Germany declares war on Russia and its ally France and marches across Belgium, violating its neutrality. The UK declares war on Germany and so does Japan. Turkey declares war on Belgium; Britain and France declare war on Turkey; and the UK annexes Cypress. The House of Commons passes Irish Home Rule, but suspends it for the war, and this specific Act never comes into existence. Britain also declares Egypt its colonial protectorate to keep it on their side in the war. The New York Stock Exchange closes for six months, but the US maintains neutrality for the time being. If you’re at the Battle of Mons or the Battle of the Marne or the Battle of Ypres or a number of other battles, sucks to be you. But the real question is, what are you going to read? Let me tell you, the books of 1914 are not plotted the way the books of 2014 are.

 

The Laughing Cavalier by Baroness Orczy

 

The story of one of the ancestors of the Scarlet Pimpernel, set in Holland. I thought it wouldn’t be as good as a regular Scarlet Pimpernel book, but it was top drawer. In this classic adventure tale, the title character, a penniless vagabond with an honorable heart, finds himself in a terrible pickle—he has been hired to kidnap a young woman and at the same time return her to her father. How can he do both and collect both rewards? The twists of the plot were truly delightful. As in Beauty and the Beast, this tale relies on a sexist form of Stockholm Syndrome, where the kidnapped maiden finds herself falling for the man who is keeping her prisoner. Annoyingly, this was very effective, making this book kind of a guilty pleasure. Luckily to reduce my pleasure there was a generous helping of anti-Semitism.

 

I have taken a sacred vow not to discuss book design, forevermore, but here I have been goaded beyond all possible human endurance. Since all the works of 1914 are in the public domain, they are printed by publishers who realized they can do virtually zero work and reap a tiny reward when fools like me buy the book. So you will find that these books have no front matter, back matter, cover art, writing on the spine, or formatting. They have not been run through spellcheck, and they are in tiny font and have no spaces to separate the chapters (making the book shorter and even cheaper to produce.) I accept all that, but this particular publisher chose to print The Laughing Cavalier in a very unwieldy size of 11 by 8 ½, or letter size. I feel there is no society in our galaxy where these proportions would be considered attractive for a book. And aesthetics aside, it’s very hard to read. It’s like the newspaper that Buster Keaton reads in The High Sign that keeps unfolding bigger and bigger (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hyLM-y3O9XY, about 40 seconds in.) So while The Laughing Cavalier was one of the books I enjoyed the most, it was also the hardest to read.

 

As you can see, the book is roughly the size of a cat.

 

Maurice by EM Forster

 

So Forster finished this book in 1914, but it wasn’t published until 1971, after his death, because of its gay content. However I don’t expect to be still reviewing books in 2071 so I thought now would be a good time to say how much I like this book. I read it when I was about 14 (after my mom took me to see the movie) and it made a big impression on me. Now I’m going to spoil the entire plot. Maurice is a middle-class guy who falls in love with an upper-class guy named Clive while he’s in college. But after a few years Clive decides that he’d better marry a woman, and he breaks Maurice’s heart. Maurice tries anti-gay hypnosis therapy but it doesn’t work. Eventually Maurice gets together with a gardener/groundskeeper/something like that named Alec Scudder. It seems at first like they are both too suspicious of the other and have too many class differences to get along, and Alec is going to emigrate to South America. But at the last moment they decide to stay together. I think if you like any of Forster’s other novels, you’d like this one too.

 

 

 

 

Dubliners by James Joyce

 

This is one of my all-time favorite short story collections. The stories I like best are “An Encounter,” “Araby,” “Eveline,” “A Little Cloud,” “Clay,” “A Painful Case,” “Ivy Day in the Committee Room,” and “The Dead.” I read it when I was fifteen and my mother had to explain “Clay” and “Ivy Day in the Committee Room” to me. She also asked me not to read “The Dead” because it was her favorite story and she thought I wouldn’t like it because I was too young. But I did read it and I did like it so everything turned out okay. Two years later we were reading “Araby” in English class and the boy who everyone had bullied for years started behaving strangely and saying that the point of “Araby” was that the main character wasn’t going to take it anymore! (Which is not anything that’s happening in that story.) Then this boy never came back to school again, not even for graduation, and somehow everyone knew that he’d had a mental breakdown and been hospitalized. When I called him two weeks after the “Araby” incident to see if he was okay, he said I was the only person who’d called him. Wait, what, you wanted me to tell you what Dubliners is like rather than go down memory lane? Go read someone else’s 1914 round-up then.

 

The Price of Love by Arnold Bennett

 

I know the Bloomsbury crowd was down on Arnold Bennett and no one reads him anymore, but he is my favorite writer of this era. Other writers blow hot and cold but all of his books have been good, and this one was exceptional. This novel has all the emotionality and wide view of life of The Old Wives Tale, but also a cracking good plot. I had no idea what the hell was going to happen next in this book. An elderly lady in Bursely has two nephews to whom she is planning to leave her money, and a new young companion. One of the nephews has a fine character but no social skills or sense of humor. The other is charming and handsome but dishonest and unreliable, and he’s in hot water because he’s embezzled all the petty cash at his job and he knows his boss is planning to look at the books. The elderly lady has dropped a big bundle of money in the house and the dishonest nephew finds it. He tells himself he’s going to give it to his aunt later, but at the same time he’s also planning to take it. Then his aunt falls ill—because she’s realized her money is missing and she’s so upset. While the nephew is looking at the money and thinking things over, the companion bursts in asking him to call for the doctor, so he sticks the money in the first place he thinks of—the grate in the fireplace. Anyway, there were a lot of things in this book that reminded me of The Old Wives Tale, aside from being set in Bursely, like the touching relationship between the elderly aunt and the young companion, who admire each other but also look down on each other. In the middle of a crisis in the early morning, one of the characters sees the lamplighter come down the street and light the lamps and she’s struck by the secret nighttime world, just the way Sam Povey is amazed to see the bakery during his early-morning crisis. And the young companion will marry a complete no-goodnik despite everything people do to try and stop her, just like Sophia Baines. Bennett describes everything so well and gets into people’s minds so thoroughly and sympathetically. I’m bummed because there’s no Bennett book for 1915—apparently he was too busy as wartime Director of Propaganda for France.

 

 

Tik-Tok of Oz by L. Frank Baum

 

An American girl who is not Dorothy and her mule end up in the section of Oz that is a land of talking flowers. They meet the Shaggy Man, Polychrome, and Tik-Tok and they go on a journey and encounter the Nome King. All the Oz books are good.

 

 

Kokoro by Soseki Natsume

 

This gentle, atmospheric book is more about an existential feeling than it is about plot. It reminded me of Le Grand Meaulnes, and also the story The Judgment by Kafka. I’m going to go ahead and spoil such plot as there is. A university student makes friends with an older man his father’s age, whom he calls Sensei. Sensei is not very demonstrative and likes to keep his personal business to himself. I saw the character Sensei as a very realistic portrayal of a person who has been depressed for a long time, but the young man just sees Sensei as enigmatic and fascinating. It felt to me like the university student was practicing for being in love or making friends with his peers by trying to get close to Sensei, and also looking for a father figure because it turns out his own father is terminally ill. The young man goes home to be with his family. I thought the description of the father’s illness and the varied ways that everyone involved tried to avoid or deny what’s happening was incredibly realistic and timeless and this alone makes this book a masterpiece. However, during his father’s final hours, the young man receives a by-the-time-you-get-this-I-will-be-dead letter from Sensei. He rushes off the to the train station to go to Sensei. The rest of the book is Sensei’s long suicide letter, explaining what happened to him when he was young and why he’s going to end his life. So, when Sensei was a young man, he fell in love with the daughter of the family he was boarding with, but he was completely stalled and unable to declare his love. Then he asked his friend to live in the house too. This man falls in love with the same woman, although it takes Sensei a while to figure this out because no one ever has a straightforward conversation with anyone in this book. But the friend has deep spiritual/philosophical beliefs that involve asceticism and renouncing love, so he feels like a terrible hypocrite. Sensei basically tells his friend, “Yes, you are a terrible hypocrite,” and then immediately asks the young woman’s mother for her daughter’s hand. After the friend finds out, he stabs himself to death in the nighttime. Sensei feels responsible for his friend’s suicide and is wracked with guilt for decades, but he never explains anything to his wife because he doesn’t want to spoil her flowerlike purity. I don’t know if this was cultural, generational, the author’s own life view, or something else, but no one in this book has any get-up-and-go. It’s very hard for the characters to take any actions whatsoever and so they can never solve their problems; they just sink deeper into despond. The one thing they are able to do with great gusto and resolve is die by suicide. According to the introduction, the title of this book means “the heart of things.” I bought this book online, and it arrived with a yellow post-it note recommending further reading, which I found very touching.

 

 

The Man Upstairs by PG Wodehouse

 

All of Wodehouse’s books are funny and will lift your spirits. Consider this the perfect antidote to Kokoro. This one is a collection of short stories. My favorites were “The Man Upstairs,” “Deep Waters” and “Pots O’ Money.” Most of the Wodehouse I’ve read previously has been about parasitic wealthy people (mostly the Jeeves books) and this was the first time I read some stories about starving artists and ordinary people. I slightly prefer reading about the idle rich or about golfers, because it’s so unreal. Seeing charming twists of fate happen to poor characters is in too stark contrast with real life, where that never happens.

 

Innocent: Her Fancy, His Fact by Marie Corelli

 

This was by far the most bizarre book I’ve ever read in my life. I honestly don’t even know if I enjoyed it or not but it was a strange, mindblowing experience that I’m glad I had. Innocent is an eighteen year old girl who lives on a farm in the middle of nowhere. Everyone is trying to get her to marry her handsome, kind, intelligent cousin Robin who is going to inherit the farm, but Innocent doesn’t love him and doesn’t want to marry him. Her head is stuffed with strange fanciful ideas about a family ancestor named Amadis de Jocelyn, and she has grown up reading manuscripts in Old French about him. But on basically his deathbed her father reveals that he is not really her father, that a man on horseback who must have been her biological father gave Innocent to him when she was a baby. The man, Armitage, had sent checks to pay for her keep for many years but then stopped suddenly.

 

Shortly after Innocent’s father dies, selfish Lady Blythe shows up to tell Innocent that she is her mother who cast her off when she was a baby, but now she wants to adopt Innocent and make her heiress to her money and title, since she never had any other children. But Innocent repudiates her mother, saying if you didn’t want me then, you can’t have me now. 200 pages in, Innocent runs away to London, which has been way overdetermined by this point and I was waiting and waiting for this to happen. On the train she meets a man who happens to have been a friend of her biological father Armitage. Then in the house she takes a room in, by coincidence there’s a big portrait of Armitage on the wall because the lady of the house, Miss Leigh, happens to be his cast-off sweetheart. One year later, Innocent has become the most successful author of her day and is rich. I thought this was just wish fulfilment but when I read about the author I discovered this was stark realism—Innocent’s writing career is just like Marie Corelli’s. Innocent’s publisher tells her this:

 

“‘You won’t let me call you a brilliant author,’ he said, as he shook hands with her—‘Perhaps it will please you better if I say you are a true woman!’

Her hand flashed up in bright gratitude, —she waved her hand in parting—as the brougham glided off. And never to his dying day did that publisher and man of hard business detail forget the radiance of the face that smiled at him that afternoon, —a face of light and youth and loveliness, as full of hope and faith as the face of a pictured angel kneeling at the feet of the Madonna with heaven’s own glory encircling it in gold.”

 

Then Innocent meets an unscrupulous painter named Amadis de Jocelyn who is distantly related to the one she is so fevered about, and of course she falls in love with him. But:

 

“The carnal mind can never comprehend spirituality,—nevertheless Jocelyn was a man cultured and clever enough to feel that though he himself could not enter, and did not even care to enter the uplifted spheres of thought, this strange child with a gift of the gods in her brain, already dwelt in them, serenely unconscious of any lower plane.

 

“[H]e had not gone to such lengths in his love-affair as could result in what is usually called ‘trouble’ for the girl. He had left her unscathed, save in a moral and spiritual sense.”

 

Unfortunately Innocent is no match for this debased man. Her dialogue is more like this:

“‘Pleasure for others is the only pleasure possible to me. I assure you I’m quite selfish!—I’m greedy for the happiness of those I love—and if they can’t or won’t be happy I’m perfectly miserable!’”

 

Meanwhile, Lady Blythe confesses to her husband that before they were married, she had an illegitimate child and it’s very awkward to meet Innocent socially. Lord Blythe is shocked and appalled at the unmotherly conduct of his wife and tells her he must bid her farewell. Lady Blythe goes and accidentally overdoses on Veronal and dies. Lord Blythe doesn’t seem to mind about that, but he feels bad about Innocent, so he goes to her and asks if he can adopt her as his daughter. But she says she wants to be independent and make her own way in the world. Then Lord Blythe discovers that Armitage (Innocent’s biological father) is still alive and living as a hobo painter in Italy, and they make plans for Armitage to return to England and legally acknowledge Innocent as his child.

 

However, meanwhile Jocelyn the painter has cruelly dumped Innocent. Going out of her mind with heartbreak, she somehow makes her way back to the farm where she was raised, in the midst of a terrible storm. Robin and the faithful servant find her raving and confused and put her to bed. In the middle of the night, Innocent wakes up, her mind clear, and tells Robin that now she wants to marry him. He spends a sleepless night wondering whether that will be good for her or not. But in the morning he finds her stone dead!

 

The book ends by saying that Lord Blythe, Armitage, and Miss Leigh

 

“made a trio of friends,—a compact of affection and true devotion such as is seldom known in this work-a-day world. They were nearly always together, —and the memory of Innocent, with her young life’s little struggle against fate ending so soon in disaster, was a link never to be broken save by death, which breaks all.”

 

As weird as this book was, it was nothing on what I learned about the author in Wikipedia. I was most surprised to learn that Corelli was the inspiration for both EF Benson’s Lucia and Elizabeth Taylor’s Angel.

 

 

Arundel by EF Benson

 

The title makes you think it is set in Norway, but actually the first two chapters take place in India and the rest in England. All the parts of this book that were comic were excellent, but the romantic and tragic elements were strange. I’m going to spoil the whole plot now. The main character, Elizabeth, is a high-spirited Anglo-Indian girl who is sent to spend a season with her aunt in England. Her aunt is a very selfish lady who loves to be comfortable, a very funny character. The town they live in is like Tilling in the Lucia books (and the name of the aunt’s house is Arundel, so that’s why the book is called that.) Gerald, who lives next door, has waited for love his whole life but not encountered it, so he decides to get realistic and propose to the aunt’s daughter Edith, because he likes her and thinks they’ll get along. We get a funny bit where the aunt thinks she’s being incredibly generous but won’t settle any money on her daughter; it’s very Jane Austenish. Unfortunately, immediately after the engagement, Elizabeth shows up and she and Gerald fall violently in love. It’s hard to stay sympathetic to them because they keep saying that all they care about is Edith and doing the right thing by her, but then somehow against their will they end up kissing and sending love letters etc. Edith is no dummy and demands to know what’s going on. Because of their high moral principles, they lie to Edith. Elizabeth has written to her father asking him to send a telegram urging her to come home on some pretext, so that she can get out of the situation. But when the telegram comes, it turns out that her father has died, and that part is genuinely sad. A year or so goes by, and Elizabeth is one of those lucky people who feels that the person who died is still there as much as ever and she can commune with him. Meanwhile, Edith is pregnant but desperately unhappy because she knows her husband doesn’t really love her. When she sees Elizabeth, Edith starts to demand whether Elizabeth loves Gerald, but before Edith can get all the words out of her mouth she falls down ill and subsequently dies, the end. Oh, EF Benson, I can’t wait until you figure out that you need to be writing comedy.

 

Miss Billy Married by Eleanor H. Porter

 

The entire first page of this book was the Christian wedding vows I think we are all pretty familiar with. That was a bad sign, and it didn’t get better. This novel was the sequel to a previous book (or books?) where the couple were star-crossed lovers but now they’re married. It was a lot of sentimental hogwash where different kinds of jealousies caused by never talking to each other almost drove the couple apart but they managed to stay together. There were a lot of self-sacrificing people, and a little disabled child who made people cry because he was so full of joy.

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review 2014-12-09 13:57
How to Live on 24 Hours a Day - Arnold Bennett

Short, extremely funny, makes me want to work at being a better person and gives practicable advice on how. And it's free. You have no excuse for not reading this over lunch.

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review 2014-03-15 00:36
The Old Wives' Tale by Arnold Bennett
The Old Wives' Tale - Arnold Bennett

I'm not sure why I kept reading through to the end (or very near it).  It was slightly interesting at first, but then it just dragged on...and on... and on.  I hoped it would pick up or do something to redeem itself later on, but it never really did.  I only wish I'd stopped reading earlier on...

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