A Certain Slant of Light

What I’ve Just Finished Reading

William Dean Howells’ London Films, a travel memoir that was somewhat slow overall, but speckled with interesting information, like the fact that in 1904 or so England briefly adopted Thanksgiving to their own use, although they bunged it down in September. (It sounds an awful lot like the harvest festivals described in the Miss Read books, which may have been a later and re-christened metamorphosis.)

Also, Howells gives us this sublime description of the Oxford-Cambridge race: “I noticed that the men rowed in their undershirts, and not naked from their waists up as our university crews do, or used to do, and I missed the Greek joy I have experienced in New London, when the fine Yale and Harvard fellows slipped their tunics over their heads, and sat sculpturesque in their bronze nudity, motionlessly waiting for the signal to come to life.”

Howells. Howells. HOWELLS. “Greek joy.” EXPLAIN YOURSELF SIR.

I also finished Gerald Durrell’s The Picnic and Other Inimitable Stories. The first story remains my favorite (Gerald’s brother Larry is simply a gold mine of hilarity), but I enjoyed them all, particularly the reappearance of Ursula Pendragon-White, Durrell’s malapropism-spouting girlfriend from Fillets of Plaice.

As everyone warned me, the final story “The Entrance” is quite creepy. It reminded me of the underground banquet in Pan’s Labyrinth, the bit where Ofelia sneaks a grape and the creature at the head of the table sticks his eyes in the center of his palms and starts to stalk her. It’s not like that in any of the details—but in the atmosphere somehow.

And finally, I finished Maylis de Kerangal’s Eastbound (translated from French by Jessica Moore), a slim novella about a conscripted soldier on the Trans-Siberian Railway who decides to desert, and the Frenchwoman who almost accidentally decides to help him. The style is what I think of as very modern literary – long, winding, sometimes unnecessarily elliptical sentences – but the story grows engrossing, which is not always what I associate with that style.

What I’m Reading Now

The Montgomery readthrough is on hold till Jane of Lantern Hill comes in at the library, so in the meantime, I’ve picked back up my long-neglected Austen reread with Mansfield Park. Maria Bertram has just married Mr. Rushworth in order to show Henry Crawford that she doesn’t care a twig about him, a wonderful reason to get married which certainly will not backfire spectacularly.

What I Plan to Read Next

I am prepping my reading material for my trip to Paris! Contemplating whether I ought to download more Biggles books for the plane ride. On the other hand, I have Biggles Buries a Hatchet, Biggles Takes a Hand, and Biggles Looks Back, and perhaps it would be a mistake to dilute the general Biggles/von Stalhein of it all with other Biggles books.

I’ve also just gone through my Kindle to gather up books that I downloaded at one time or another which fell through the cracks, which fall in more or less three categories:

Classics I Definitely Haven’t Read: Elizabeth Gaskell’s Mary Barton, R. D. Blackmore’s Lorna Doone, Washington Irving’s The Sketch-Book of Geoffrey Crayon

Have I Already Read This?: Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Marble Faun, Susan Warner’s The Wide, Wide World, Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards’ Queen Hildegarde

I Have No Memory Why I Have This Book: Kaje Harper’s Nor Iron Bars a Cage, Mary Jane Holmes’ Tempest and Sunshine, Jane Louise Curry’s The Ice Ghost Mystery, Andrea K. Host’s Stray Patricia C. Wrede’s Caught in Crystal (technically book four of a series, possibly chronologically the first, maybe they are all standalones?)

If you have insight into any of these – particularly the last section, as I’m sure some of these were recommendations – please share!