Not Much To See Here

vistaI haven’t done much blogging over the past year. Maybe I haven’t had much to say. Or maybe I’ve been writing elsewhere.

In fact, the latter is very much the case. Time to bring this blog up to date with a few posts on matters esoteric and some of my favourite reviews from the past year.

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
On rereading Pride and Prejudice in this beautiful Belknap Press annotated edition edited by Patricia Meyer Spacks, I am struck by the almost irrepressible joy evinced at various points by so many of the actors in the drama. Take Jane, the oldest of the Bennet sister, and her perfect bliss at the familial joy that will result from her happy union with Mr. Bingley. She wonders, “how shall I bear so much happiness!” Or take her perfectly insensible youngest sister, Lydia, whose joy on becoming the first wed of the sisters burbles forth heedless of the shame brought on her siblings and parents by her escapade with Mr. Wickham. Or take Mr. Bennet’s delight at the obsequiousness of his cousin, Mr. Collins, or the inanities of Mrs. Bennet. And finally, take Elizabeth’s willingness to laugh at and with her proud husband to be, Mr. Darcy. Joy rises to the surface like cream. And it is joy to which we are fitted, each to our nature.

This is such a lovely edition. It is in a large format allowing the annotations to accompany the text directly. There are numerous notes discussing fine points of interpretation given generous presentation by Patricia Meyer Spacks, though at times she reserves judgement on their felicity. And there is an excellent introduction, also from Professor Spacks, which is fully conscious of the fact that most who pick up this edition of Austen’s classic will be rereading it. And the joys of rereading, especially of works that merit rereading such as this one, are many. For myself, I relish the slower pace at which I take the text, revelling in each expected but still surprising turn of events. And yet, subsequent to Elizabeth’s re-acquaintance with Mr. Darcy at Pemberley, I still find myself racing onward almost desperate to see Elizabeth reach her deserved joy.

For an early work, admittedly reworked and finally published after the success of Sense and Sensibility, I think that Pride and Prejudice points to much of what will solidify in Austen’s later writing, especially her very fine Emma. But perhaps it is the youthful exuberance that this novel cannot cloak which more than anything encourages the devotion so many readers have for it. After all, we will have our joy.

***

The above edition of Pride and Prejudice was a gift I received the Christmas before last. I held it in reserve through the year waiting for the ideal time to savour it. Events overtook me such that it wasn’t until this past Christmas that I felt the inclination to indulge myself. I’m glad I did. Hardly anything restores me the way rereading one of Austen’s novels does.

See also

Reading – a year in review, 2014

2014 was a good year for reading. I discovered new authors whose work I enjoyed: C.S. Richardson, Dennis Johnson, ZZ Packer, Ali Smith, Donald Antrim, and Greg Baxter. I continued my affection for authors with whom I had already been acquainted: Richard Ford, Elena Ferrante, Ben Lerner, George Saunders, Lars Iyer, Lorrie Moore, and Colm Tóibín. I also wrote short reviews of each book I read this past year and posted them on LibraryThing, a few of which I re-posted here on this blog. I’m already looking forward to another great year of reading ahead.

Stats from my 2014 reading list:

  • 16 were borrowed from our public library
  • 18 have Canadian authors
  • 11 were chosen due to personal recommendations from friends
  • 7 are by authors who appear more than once on the 2014 list
  • 1 was being reread
  • 1 was read aloud by my wife and me
  • 15 are non-fiction
  • 0 are ebooks

Books read in 2014 (72):

  • Davis, Philip. Reading and the Reader
  • Ford, Richard. A Multitude of Sins
  • Keyes, Daniel. Flowers for Algernon
  • Birrell, Heather. Mad Hope
  • Cole, Teju. Open City
  • Evison, Jonathan. The Revised Fundamentals of Caregiving
  • Curtis, Rebecca. Twenty Grand and other Tales of Love and Money
  • Boyden, Joseph. Three Day Road
  • Moore, Lorrie. Bark: Stories
  • Patchett, Ann. This is the Story of a Happy Marriage
  • Boyden, Joseph. Through Black Spruce
  • Burnside, John. Black Cat Bone
  • Welty, Eudora. One Writer’s Beginnings
  • Crummey, Michael. Under the Keel: Poems
  • Richardson, C.S. The End of the Alphabet
  • Humphreys, Helen. Coventry: A Novel
  • Saunders, George. Pastoralia: Stories
  • Eggers, Dave. The Wild Things
  • Bellow, Saul. Ravelstein
  • McLeod, Alistair. No Great Mischief
  • Saunders, George. CivilWarLand in Bad Decline
  • Richardson, C.S. The Emperor of Paris
  • Maillet, Antonine. The Tale of Don l’Orignal
  • MacLeod, Alistair. Island: The Collected Stories
  • Maillet, Antonine. Pélagie: The Return to Acadie
  • Fraile, Medardo. Things Look Different in the Light
  • Morgan, Robert J. Rise Again!: The Story of the Cape Breton Island, Book One
  • Coady, Lynn. Play the Monster Blind: Stories
  • Toltz, Steve. A Fraction of the Whole
  • Johnson, Denis. Jesus’ Son
  • Homes, A.M. The Safety of Objects
  • Fitzgerald, Penelope. At Freddie’s
  • Strout, Elizabeth. Olive Kitteridge
  • Queenan, Joe. One for the Books
  • Lee, Hermione. Penelope Fitzgerald: A Life
  • Ferrante, Elena. Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay
  • Iyer, Lars. Wittgenstein Jr
  • Saunders, George. The Brief and Frightening Reign of Phil
  • Homes, A.M. May We Be Forgiven
  • Smith, Ali. Artful
  • Munro, Alice. Who Do You Think You Are?
  • Ferrante, Elena. Troubling Love
  • Lerner, Ben. 10:04
  • Gawande, Atul. Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End
  • Fowler, Karen Joy. We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves
  • Baxter, Greg. The Apartment
  • Scheffler, Samuel; Kolodny, Niko (ed.) Death and the Afterlife
  • Horn, Dara. The World To Come
  • Browne, Renni and Dave King. Self-Editing for Fiction Writers: How to edit yourself into print
  • Davis, Lydia. The End of the Story
  • Packer, ZZ. Drinking Coffee Elsewhere
  • Ferrante, Elena. The Lost Daughter
  • Ford, Richard. Let Me Be Frank With You
  • Tóibín, Colm. The Heather Blazing
  • Fforde, Jasper. The Eye of Zoltar
  • Lipsyte, Sam. The Ask
  • Hadley, Tessa. Married Love
  • Smith, Ali. The Accidental
  • Berger, John. Bento’s Notebook
  • Antrim, Donald. The Verificationist
  • Beckett, Bernard. Genesis
  • Bausch, Richard. Someone To Watch Over Me
  • Hadley, Tessa. Everything Will Be All Right
  • Birkerts, Sven. The Other Walk: essays
  • Barnes, Julian. Levels of Life
  • Finucan, Stephen. Foreigners
  • Didion, Joan. Slouching Towards Bethlehem
  • Toews, Miriam. All My Puny Sorrows
  • Antrim, Donald. Elect Mr. Robinson For A Better World
  • Smith, Ali. Girl Meets Boy
  • Galloway, Steven. The Cellist of Sarajevo
  • Beattie, Steve W. (compiler), Davidson, Craig (compiler), and Nawaz, Saleema (compliler). The Journey Prize Stories 26

 

Let Me Be Frank With You by Richard Ford

Let Me Be Frank With You by Richard Ford
“A few good words,” observes Frank Bascombe at the end of the final novella of Richard Ford’s, Let Me Be Frank With You, and “the day we have briefly shared is saved.” It summarizes Frank Bascombe’s near elegiac take on grief, death and the fear of death, and what makes life worth living. And it perfectly captures my take on Richard Ford’s latest.

For those who have followed Frank Bascombe from The Sportswriter, through Independence Day and on to The Lay of the Land, there was always one more holiday looming. The earlier novels took place, over the course of Frank’s life, at Easter, July 4th, and Thanksgiving. So it will come as no surprise that the four linked novellas, or long short stories, here mark the the last few weeks leading up to Christmas. Frank is now 68, retired, living once again in Haddam with his second wife, Sally. It is the aftermath of hurricane Sandy and the destruction that followed in its wake has peeled back the skin of The Shore. Vast amounts of real estate are destroyed, including Frank and Sally’s old house (they sold up and moved inland 8 years previous). The survivors, one way or another, are receiving grief counselling. And maybe all of us, including Frank though he denies it, are in such need. Endings are in evidence. Indeed, as Frank notes, “that things end is often the most interesting thing about them.” Frank’s end is still being postponed, though death surrounds him, suffusing even the house in which he and Sally live (due to a horrific scene that occurred there 30 years earlier), placing its determinate finger on Frank’s first wife, Ann, who has been diagnosed with Parkinson’s, and rattling its last rasp in the form of Eddie “Ole Olive” Medley, a former friend of Frank’s from the years shortly after his divorce. Only the reassuring presence of Ezekiel Lewis and those few good words of Christmas cheer and fellowship can stem the tide. It doesn’t seem like much, but it is enough.

Ford’s Bascombe has moved on from his Permanent Period to the Next Level, which is characterized as much by letting go (of friends, real estate, cares and concerns) as by Frank’s identification with his Default Self. But of course Frank can never really hold to his stated intentions. Perhaps his true essence just keeps seeping through, as Ann might say, or maybe it is just hard for someone without an essence, as Frank would claim, to hold on to things, especially things as insubstantial themselves as intentions.

It might sound odd to describe Ford’s return to Frank Bascombe as a breath of fresh air. But fresh is exactly how this feels. A few good words, indeed. Highly recommended.

See also

 

10:04 by Ben Lerner

10:04 by Ben Lerner
You can’t help but be a little bit in awe of Ben Lerner’s deftness, his complex weave of images — imminent flooding that will reshape the Manhattan shoreline, the transition to fatherhood (possibly), time’s incessant beat and its echo in the past, the book he contracted to write and the book he has written — that turn in upon themselves, multiply and become something new. Frankly, you can’t help but be a little bit in awe of his vocabulary, a diction so rich and varied and sometimes abstruse that you might wonder whether he also talks this way (he does!). Some of the writing here is so measured and perfect that it constitutes a prose poem. And you will be brought to pause and think and revel, just a little bit.

The author/narrator of 10:04 is a sometimes author, not unlike Ben Lerner, who perhaps, despite his critical success as a novelist, continues to see himself as a poet, and more important to have a poet’s sensibilities or insensibilities. We follow the narrator across the course of a year from one inundating storm that wreaks havoc on the New Jersey and New York seaboard to another; bookends, if you will, that remind us of the mutability of even our seemingly most permanent cityscapes. The narrator is anxious, medically. But also existentially. He doubts himself and his comprehension, often rightly, without the surety of any fixed fulcrum from which to view change. That is a difficulty for the narrator as well as for the conceit of the novel since the oft repeated (in the novel) Hassidic story of the world to come says that, “Everything will be just as it is now, just a little different.” But what does that difference amount to if it cannot be confidently marked? Difference, on such a view, cannot be anything but perspectival, and that, inevitably, leads to the world to come being the world as it is, or was, or might yet be. To say that we have entered a liminal space would be an understatement.

Nevertheless, Lerner is able to generate an emotional bond with his reader at times that leaps across the barriers of arcane diction, post-modern anxiety about the novelistic form, and longed-for debts to prior poets. You may even experience, as the narrator does, more than one “lacrimal event,” which for the rest of us would be a tear or two.

Always worth reading, reflecting upon, then reading again. Recommended.