Harry Potter Series: The Order of the Phoenix

In this fifth book of the Harry Potter series, J.K. Rowling broadens the central story and develops more characters. Certainly a more mature novel, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is shrouded in the anxiety of Voldemort’s return and displays the very real risks and grief that accompany war.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

J.K. Rowling

Originally published: 2003, UK (and US)

870 pages

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Rating: 4 = Recommended Reading

 

What Worked:

• Story deepening

With this novel, Rowling has even further expanded the world in this book series. As the bounds of the world expands—from Hagrid’s journey to the Giants to the Order of the Phoenix’s secret hideout in the middle of Muggle London—the complexity of the issues of this world deepen as well. As the wizarding world debates whether or not Voldemort has returned, Harry and his friends are swept up in the fear and anxiety of what they see as an impending war. Against this backdrop, Harry learns more about the First Wizarding War in which his parents lost their lives. The reader, of course, learns as Harry learns and comes to understand more of what will be at stake for Harry and his friends. The prophecy—a big focus of the book that isn’t revealed until the very end—is a huge plot point for the series as it speaks to the role Harry will have in the war to come. Rowling is able to make the larger world of the series deeper and more complex while still keeping it age-appropriate and contained.

• Rising secondary characters

Having only watched the movies before starting this book series, I was very interested to read more about some of my favorite secondary characters Neville, Luna, and Ginny.

Neville’s development in The Order of the Phoenix is phenomenal. He is the overlooked underdog you always want to root for. In this novel you get a glimpse of his parents, get to meet his grandmother, and get to see his success as a developing warrior. Neville is a deeply loyal character who, like Harry, is also working through issues in his childhood left over from the First Wizarding War. He is transforming here from a meek, unconfident student into an important player in the upcoming war.

Luna is an odd character. Rowling seems to have gone out of her way to make her as strange as possible, but she is still surprisingly believable. Truly marching to the beat of her own drum, Luna is unflinchingly honest, loyal, and understanding. These traits equip her to be an excellent friend for Harry during this year when he is anxious, confused, and angry (SO angry).

Ginny is another character I’ve been excited to see more of in the books. She is bold, intelligent, and tells it like it is. She is unfazed by the wizarding community’s ever-changing perceptions of Harry, continuing to talk to him plainly and truthfully (and sometimes a big harshly). She is a girl who is coming into her own easily and powerfully—a good role model for self-esteem and confidence, really.

• War and grief

Although the rest of the wizarding world isn’t truly convinced of Voldemort’s return until the end of the book (thanks, Ministry of Magic), for Harry, Dumbledore’s Army (a group of students Harry teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts), and the Order of the Phoenix, the upcoming war is quite real. There is an anxiety amongst Harry’s community about how the war will progress, how bad it is going to be this time, and what Harry’s role will be. Rowling shows unsurprising confidence here in meeting the dark elements of war head-on. She has not shied away from making her evil characters really evil in the past, so the reader can expect the events of the novel will get darker and more violent before they get any better. I was glad to see that when Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, and Ginny venture into the Ministry of Magic they are not only in grave danger as Death Eaters try to kill them but that no one is left without injuries (and some of them are quite bad).

Like the blunt, realistic oncoming war that Rowling describes, Harry’s grief toward the end of the novel is depicted believably. He experiences denial and anger as he deals with the reality of death after a grueling year psychologically with Occlumency lessons and his psychic link with Voldemort. It is again not surprising that Rowling does an excellent job here showing realistic emotions since she did such a great job with Harry’s psychological state at the end of the last novel, Goblet of Fire.

 

What Didn’t Work:

• Pacing

I feel like this is one of my main complaints of this series so far, but Order of the Phoenix also has pacing problems. This novel is longer than it needs to be because the pacing of the story is so slow. Harry’s dreams about the mysterious door and rooms, which begin at the very beginning of the novel and are explained at the very end, become annoying as the book progresses. On the one hand it is good to remind the reader of this eventual important plot element, but it is strung out so long the reader (or at least this reader) started to lose interest in the mystery. I almost didn’t care how it resolved as long as it did so soon. Similarly, the politics and issues of Order of the Phoenix at HQ dragged on. I am getting so tired of Harry’s hatred of Snape and his extreme fluctuations in his trust of Dumbledore. While there is a need to depict three-dimensional characters, repeating Harry’s visions or his mysterious, explosive anger over and over again isn’t the way to do it.

• Relationship with Sirius

As a reader, I felt like I was told more often by Rowling how to feel about Sirius than I actually cared about Sirius. Rowling spends quite a bit of time telling the reader that Harry sees Sirius as his only family and how much Sirius cares for Harry, but their interactions in this book are few and mostly non-eventful. Sirius does tell Harry some more about the Black family, but he also spends more time moping around the Order’s HQ than really spending quality time with Harry. If Rowling wanted me to care more about Sirius, she should have included more Harry/Sirius bonding. Perhaps Sirius could provide more insight into Harry’s parents (you know he’s curious and yet he asks so few questions about them)? He could talk more about the First Wizarding War. Although the reader understands Harry’s connection with Sirius, it could have been constructed so that the reader shared some of this emotional connection, deepening their love for Sirius.

 

Film Bits:

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is the second shortest film in the series at 138 minutes run time (narrowly beating out the Deathly Hallows Pt. 2 at 130 minutes). Since the book is nearly 900 pages, it is clear that editing the material down is the big challenge. While many good decisions were made like more montages-style transitions between events (like getting the thestrals to go to the Ministry or Umbridge’s teacher evaluations), this issue was certainly helped by the film being more thematic rather than strictly faithful to details. Umbridge’s tenure at Hogwarts, for example, kept some of the factual highlights but also sacrificed others to maintain the underlying tone of fear and repression. Overall, the movie was true to the book thematically, which makes it an important link in the film series.

I would have liked to see some details added or some parts expanded on since there was the time to do so. I was a bit disappointed in the Ministry battle which depicted the Death Eaters as more organized than they were (capturing a student or Order member each while standing in a perfect circle, for example) and reduced the violence so that the students seemed to come out physically unscathed. The role of the centaurs could have also been easily explained, especially if less time had been given to Trewlany’s showy dismissal. Additionally, I would have liked to see a few small details that would have taken little screen time to explain, like Ron and Hermione becoming prefects and Fred and George’s escape (including the ingenious swamp). I suppose these were difficult editing choices to make, but this is probably the first film in the series where I feel like viewers are missing out by not reading the book.

 

Overall:

Although this book is a bit bloated, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix excellently broadens and deepens Rowling’s wizarding world and sets up the impending war with plenty of realistic anxiety and fear.

Faulkner’s Challenging Classic: The Sound and the Fury

Widely regarded as a literary classic, William Faulker’s The Sound and the Fury tells the story of a Mississippi family between 1910 and 1928. Fallen from their aristocratic pedestal, the Compson family members struggle to realize their identities and to deal with the challenges life presents them. Between uncompromising Quentin, promiscuous Caddy, the perpetual child Benjy, and controlling Jason, the Compson children must navigate the world with only their experiences and their parents—cynical Jason and hypochondriac Caroline—and Dilsey, their servant, to inform them. Along the way they will deal with marriage, illegitimacy, selfishness, maturity, greed, castration, and suicide: truly human dilemmas.

 The Sound and the Fury

William Faulkner

Originally published: 1929, US

320 pages

*Note: I read the Corrected Text version of this novel.

 

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Rating: 4 – Recommended Reading

 

Summary:

Set in a fictional Mississippi town, The Sound and the Fury tells the story of the Compson family who have fallen from their aristocratic background to struggling in all aspects of life. The novel covers select parts of about 30 years in their lives, and the story is told in four sections from three of the family members and an omniscient narrator. The first section is narrated by Benjy, a mentally delayed man who is reliant on the family for care. His brother Quentin narrates the next section. He is a freshman at Harvard but is struggling with depression and is haunted by the memories of his childhood, especially of his sister Caddy and her disgrace. The next section is narrated by Jason, the son who still lives in the family home and struggles with his responsibilities to the family he sees as a barrier to his success and wealth. The last section is told by an omniscient narrator but focuses on the Compson’s main servant, Dilsey, and the fates of the Compson family members.

 

What Worked:

• Stream of consciousness form

Faulkner famously wrote using a literary form called stream of consciousness, and The Sound and the Fury is an excellent example of that style. Stream of consciousness was not new when Faulkner used it—with some examples going back to the 18^th century—but he was part of an explosion at the beginning of the 20^th century with James Joyce’s Ulysses and Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway and To the Lighthouse as contemporaries. This style allows for fluidity in chronology and a realistic blending of emotions, thoughts, memories, and actions. The narration attempts to express the internal monologue of the character so that the effect is as close to the reader actually being that character as possible. This creates a unique way for the reader to relate to the characters that moves beyond simply understanding them and creates the ability for the reader to really empathize and feel as if they know the character well. In The Sound and the Fury, Faulker uses the stream of consciousness form uniquely as he plumbs the depths of not just one character but three throughout the course of the novel.

• Memorable, rich characters

Due in part to the stream of consciousness style, Faulker has created characters in this novel that are fully fleshed out, real, and complex. By allowing the reader inside the mind of three of the characters—Benjy, Quentin, and Jason—Faulker is able to build characters from the inside out; the reader gets to know their minds before they know how the characters interact with others and change over time. But Faulkner did not stick to safe, universal characters in this novel, he took on the challenge of exploring the minds of a mentally challenged man and a suicidal man as narrators.

Benjy’s chapter is the first one, and although his mental state does make it repetitive to read, there is a rhythm to Benjy’s narration and a child-like innocence to his telling of events. I tried reading this chapter aloud and found myself lulled into Benjy’s rhythm of narration and at the same time feeling like I was losing my mind a bit. It’s brilliant. I can’t remember having ever felt that transformed as a reader. Faulkner truly captures Benjy’s unique voice.

Quentin’s chapter is intriguing in a very different way as he is highly intelligent but caught up in the past and being led into the immediate future by his depression. The only thing similar I could think of is Fyodor Dostoevsky’s own stream of consciousness exploration of Raskonikov, the philosophical murder who experiences dreams and madness in the wake of his actions in Crime and Punishment. For Quentin, his current troubles and his past memories overlap with increased frequency until the real chronology becomes difficult to distinguish. Faulker does an excellent job of depicting Quentin’s psychological state for the reader.

• Perspective use

With the use of multiple narrators and nonlinear storytelling, The Sound and the Fury’s plot is something that the reader learns rather than is told. The reader works on connecting the plot points as the novel progresses and is given different perspectives and pieces of events from each of the characters. What is very interesting is that it is only the three brothers of the family who are given a direct voice. Caroline, the mother of the family, is relegated to a supporting player who is mostly depicted as crazy and, honestly, the most annoying character in the novel. Caddy, whose actions are the focus of most of the story, is hardly present and is remembered differently by each of the brothers; she is not given a voice of her own. Miss Quentin, Caddy’s daughter, plays a major part in Jason’s narrative but is also unable to explain herself. This blanket treatment of the women of the novel does not make their characters invisible, but it does show the focus of male control in this family and this time period. Complicating this idea of an overwhelming patriarchy is the Compson’s maid, Dilsey, who is not given a voice but is a big focus of the omniscient narrator in the final part of the novel.

 

Confusing Bits:

While I enjoyed the challenge of this novel’s style, there are some common complaints about it that I wanted to include here.

• The difficulties of stream of consciousness

While stream of consciousness offers a multi-dimensional version of a character it can also be difficult to read. Since this style involves mixing actions, memories, and feelings, these elements can all get a bit jumbled making it difficult parse out past and present events. It is inherently difficult to spend time in another person’s mind without confusion. Also, this style unavoidably makes characters seem unreliable since all you have is their perspective of events. To help this problem, Faulkner only focuses on three characters’ points of view. But, while there are some facts the reader can determine really did happen, there are many things that the reader is unsure about (or doesn’t trust the narrator about). People who enjoy stories with characters who are clearly good or bad, trustworthy or liars, will have a difficult time with the gray areas many of these characters inhabit.

• Skipping chronology

Readers who enjoy stories that are told in order from beginning to end will be frustrated by Faulkner’s nonlinear storytelling in The Sound and the Fury. The first two chapters—narrated by Benjy and Quentin—are easily the most nonlinear, and are complicated by the mental and psychological difficulties of the main characters. The last two chapters are much more straight-forward in terms of plot and are interrupted less often by jarring memories. At least in Benjy’s chapter, Faulkner originally thought about using different colored inks to separate the chronological shifts Benjy makes between three periods of his life. While there is an edition that does this, most do not and the reader must rely on italics and the identities of Benjy’s caretakers to root them in time. For the reader who prefers to be guided along by the story and not having to be constantly aware of where they are in time, this book will certainly be a challenge.

• Dialect

This book is set in rural Mississippi and Faulkner has given many of the characters realistic dialects, mostly the characters who belong to the lower class. The Compsons, with their history of aristocracy, do not speak in dialect though they do have Southern vocabularies and speech patterns. Some of the characters’ dialects are easier to understand than others.

“You sho done it now. I’ll declare if you aint. Shut up that yelling” (21).

“‘Dis here ti’ aint got no air a-tall in hit,’ the negro said” (305).

Depending on how familiar the reader is with reading dialect, they may have to slow down at parts to figure out what is being said, but it gets easier as the novel goes on.

 

Overall:

Truthfully, The Sound and the Fury is a challenging book with its nonlinear storytelling and variety of stream of conscious narrators, but it is a rich story full of the big emotions and shared struggles of humanity wrapped up in one tragic Southern family. If you are up for the challenging style of this Faulkner novel, you will be rewarded.

Gaston Leroux’s Melodramatic Phantom of the Opera

DUUHHH!! DUN DUN DUN DUN DUUUUUN…

The opening strains of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical The Phantom of the Opera are likely the most famous aspect of this work based on Gaston Leroux’s novel of the same name. This gothic story grasps our imaginations because of its secretive and murderous villain, dramatic love story, innocent victim, “ghost stories”, and flair for the dramatic. While Lloyd Webber’s musical transforms these aspects into an entertaining musical, the same cannot be said for Gaston Leroux’s original novel which, although darker, is too melodramatic for modern audiences and features unrelatable characters and an unbelievable romance.

 

The Phantom of the Opera

Gaston Leroux

Originally published: 1910 (1909-1910 serialized; 1911 in English), France

270 pages

Click on the cover to view this book on Amazon. At the time of posting, the Kindle version was only 99 cents!

Rating: 2 – At Your Own Risk

 

Summary:

Christine Daáe is an up-and-coming opera singer who gets her big break at a performance at the Paris Opera. In the audience is her childhood friend Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny who falls in love with her. But, upon visiting Christine’s dressing room after the show he finds a nervous, scared girl who laughs at the childhood memory he brings up. What has brought about such a change in her? Through his observations of Christine, Raoul suspects that the “Angel of Music” who has been tutoring her is related to the rumored “Opera Ghost” who has been causing havoc at the Paris Opera. As Raoul dives headlong into this mystery, blinded by his love for Christine, he faces the dangers of the opera house, meets an ally, comes face-to-face with the Opera Ghost, and tries to escape with his own life as well as Christine’s freedom.

 

What Worked:

• Gothic to the core

Although it is melodramatic, Leroux has crafted an interesting gothic novel, in which he holds to many of the classic elements of gothic fiction. The setting, though not a castle or religious building per se, is the Paris Opera House, and it serves much the same function by being a character in itself. The opera house is home to Erik, the Opera Ghost, and has secret passageways, rooms, and traps. As the Opera Ghost, Erik also fulfills the haunted nature of this gothic and even gives instructions to other characters in his ghost capacity. There are strange happenings that are attributed to the ghost like the “suicide” of a man and the grand chandelier falling during a performance. Christine is the innocent, virginal girl who Erik, the villain, wants to possess. Erik himself has a tragic back story, which even includes a foreigner (bonus points!) known only as the Persian. Raoul takes the role of the valiant hero who wants to save the girl, and there are even some comical characters in the bumbling opera managers and policemen. All of these elements are wrapped up in the dark, gloomy, and sometimes horrifying setting of the opera house which includes in its walls a torture chamber, lending the novel the important aspect of terror. While I may have other issues with this novel, there is no denying that it firmly belongs in the gothic genre with its blend of horror and romance.

• The Persian

I mentioned the Persian, and he is easily my favorite character (though I would have liked to know Erik better, also). The Persian knew Erik before the opera; after Erik was disowned by his family and ran away with the gypsies, he ended up in Persia. While there, Erik spent time in the company of the sultana and created the architecture of the torture chamber. With this history, the Persian knew how dangerous Erik could be as well as some of his tricks. By including the character of the Persian, Leroux was able to explain some of Erik’s backstory, making him a more three-dimensional character. This effect was helped along by Leroux’s choice to have the Persian narrate five chapters of the book. The tone of his chapters are more even and explanatory rather than overly emotional. These chapters were the easiest to read as well. Overall, it was easier to relate to character who is a foreigner in a strange land (a bit like the reader in this sea of melodrama) who is trying to make everything work out with the fewest number of deaths, like the reader wants it to. Without the Persian, the last part of the book may have become unbearable.

• Torture chamber

One of the most intriguing aspects of the novel for me was Erik’s torture chamber. An architect, Erik designed and built this chamber that showcased real evil. While the novel is full of threats, pranks, kidnapping, and some murder, the torture chamber is the most sinister, well-described, and truly evil aspect of the novel. It is not melodrama. The torture chamber is based on a design that was familiar to the reader at the time in exhibitions: a hexagonal room lined entirely with mirrors. Often an object, like a column, was placed in the room to create the illusion of hundreds of columns surrounding anyone standing in the room. Erik took this concept but replaced the column with an iron tree—to create the illusion of an iron forest—and he added a hatch for viewing in the high ceiling. The victim, or victims, would be shut up in the room as Erik would adjust the temperature and create noises. The idea was that eventually the victim would hallucinate, go mad, and take advantage of a length of rope left on the ground near the iron tree. Pretty evil, right? There is another torture crafted for Christine where she must choose between statutes of a grasshopper and a scorpion, but the torture chamber is by far more evil and brilliant.

 

What Didn’t Work:

• No relatable character

While an argument could be made that the Persian is relatable, there are no other characters in the novel for the reader to get into. Raoul and Christine are either in ecstasy or abject misery throughout the entire novel, with no real middle ground. The reader starts out with hope that Christine will be relatable since she is an aspiring opera star who finally gets her big break, but when she actually speaks it is obvious that she is paranoid and manipulated by her invisible Angel of Music. Raoul, as the hero-lover, is madly in love all of the time and fluctuates between righteous indignation, brash “heroic” gestures, and melancholy. Even finding out some about Christine and Raoul’s childhood friendship does not help to make them any more likable. Erik is at least a well-rounded character—thanks largely to the Persian’s stories—but he’s really too evil and obsessive to be someone the reader truly understands (plus, he’s clearly the villain). Phillipe, Raoul’s brother, is someone the reader barely gets to know but who they can feel sympathy for; however, he is not really relatable either. Although, Phillipe may be the most accurate stand-in for the reader as he watches Raoul basically lose it, attempts to be a voice of reason, and ends up dead by accident.

• Difficult romance to get behind

Along with unrealtable characters, the central romance of the novel is difficult to understand or really appreciate. While the childhood relationship of Raoul and Christine is straight forward, what is their adult relationship based on? Raoul happens to see Christine perform and they begin talking again, but the big shadow of Erik’s influence on Christine makes it difficult for them to continue to meet. When she finally does open up to Raoul in a scene on the opera house roof, Christine appears more rational than anywhere else in the novel, but there is not enough information for the reader to understand the relationship. They play at being engaged—when Christine has already pretty much been forced into an engagement with Erik—with their “play” consisting of writing each other overly sentimental letters and whispering sweet nothings into one another’s ears. Their engagement play is most like children playing house: a sham of something real and deeply important. With all of the melodrama, it is difficult to know what Raoul and Christine really mean to each other. Is she just something for him to possess? Is he simply a way out of her desperate situation? Whatever it is, it doesn’t feel like true love.

 

A Note about Adaptations:

The two most popular adaptations (at least for now) are the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical and the 2004 film version of that musical. Both stick to roughly the same adaptation of the novel, so I’ll talk about them together.

Trailer for the 2004 film The Phantom of the Opera:

 

The adaptations have a lighter tone. While still solidly gothic, they have removed the torture chamber and Christine’s choice with the insect statues, which were probably too outright evil for the audience. The basic plot and main events of the novel are kept intact, though the plot is flattened, of course. The adjusted plot removes some of the weird coincidences and focuses less on the opera managers and policemen. Some aspects are certainly added like the monkey music box and the frame story with an aging Raoul at an opera house auction. Overall, I think it is easier for audiences to put up with all of the melodrama of the novel when it is presented in musical form. We’ll forgive more in a musical where singing characters create a sense of fantasy anyway. And, with Erik’s evil downgraded, the audience can feel more sympathy for him. Raoul and Christine’s romance also seems more believable when they are singing about their love in beautiful ballads.

 

Overall:

If you have some desire to read the original text (or just love gothic novels), go ahead and read it; otherwise, stick to the musical and film adaptations to be entertained by this melodramatic gothic love story.

 

5 Reasons Why You Should Read Gabriel García Márquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude

Gabriel García Márquez, a Nobel Prize winning Latin American author of magical realism fiction, died recently in April 2014. Having remembered enjoying his writing style, I was inspired to pick up his famous One Hundred Years of Solitude to re-read. What I remembered from reading it for the first time several years ago was a single impression: the feeling of reclining on a bench in a beautiful garden on a sunny day with a cool breeze blowing. Hailed as one of the greatest novels of all time, One Hundred Years of Solitude focuses on seven generations of the Buendía family in the city of Macondo. This novel should be on everyone’s “to-read” list for its unabashed depiction of humanity.

 

One Hundred Years of Solitude

Gabriel García Márquez

Originally published: 1967 (1970 in English), Colombia

417 pages

Click the link to view this book on Amazon

 

1. Macondo as a Character

Having a city depicted as a character is nothing new in fiction, but with Macondo García Márquez has created a unique place to serve as the novel’s setting. Both realistic and mythical, Macondo draws diverse people to it, drives some of the central Buendía family away from it, and becomes a political hotbed during civil unrest.

Macondo is a fictional city founded by the first generation of the Buendía family, José Arcadio Buendía and his wife Úrsula, during their search for a better home. García Márquez follows seven generations of Buendía family members as they grow up and grow old in Macondo. The home that José Arcadio and Úrsula build becomes home to some of each of the seven generations. Large and constantly changing to suit the needs and desires of the family members, the home comes to represent the Buendías and predict the fate of Macondo.

Macondo becomes a very important main character in the novel. As a character, Macondo is a bit of a hermit, choosing a slow, easy life—unless it is beset by surprising outside forces like the military or a banana company. Macondo does have clear childhood, adolescence, middle age, and old age phases as the generations pass and it grows old. The city prefers to remain detached from the rest of Colombia and act as a haven for all who live there. Macondo seems to possess mystical powers that provide its inhabitants with long life, escape from the world, and peace when they need it most.

 

2. The Cyclical Nature of Life and Family

One of the big themes of One Hundred Years of Solitude is that there is something cyclical about family generations. Aside from the tradition of naming offspring with the same repeated names as their fathers, uncles, and mothers, many of the family members share the same traits and fates. There is a workshop in the house set up by the first José Arcadio that a few of his male offspring inhabit at different times in their lives. Some share his obsessive nature as they pour over indecipherable manuscripts left by a passing gypsy, while others share his interest in chemistry and try their hand at changing metals or reviving alchemy. Úrsula warns against incest within the family and declares that the product of such incest will be born with the tail of a pig. This warning is repeated over and over as nephews fall in love with aunts and the mysterious origins of some of the Buendías cause lovers to not know if they are related or not.

With the repetition of personal natures within the family, García Márquez explores the question of whether there is something important—and perhaps even inevitable—about being born into a certain family. Would the fate of your grandmother impact the way you experience life? Would sharing a name with your great uncle change the way you interact with the world? In the ethereal, but still very real, Macondo, the cyclical way life moves within generations of a family is depicted as inescapable fate.

 

3. Magical Realism

Magical realism is a style of fiction in which the everyday world is infused with magical elements. García Márquez, as a Latin American author, comes out of this tradition, and he has inspired others to take up this fiction style (like Salman Rushdie). Magical realism is one of my favorite fiction sub-genres, and García Márquez does an excellent job of creating a place where reality and magic combine that is fully believable and enjoyable to read.

What makes this genre fascinating for me is the way that García Márquez is able to make the events of the novel seem realistic, even when they are clearly magical. I attribute this to his tone, which presents all information as though it is happening or has happened—similar to the way a storyteller tells tall tales. If you have not experienced magical realism before, be prepared to suspend your disbelief and let the story take you along.

 

4. The Spectrum of Love

Bound up with the theme about families and fates, One Hundred Years of Solitude also probes into the spectrum of human love. While some of this love is certainly passionate and sexual, there is also an array of examples of familial love, even between those who are not directly related. García Márquez writes about love as the most natural thing we do as humans but is also not afraid to show examples of the corruption of love. There are love affairs that are void of substance, those that break families, and those that are kept secret out of fear.

Probably the best thing that García Márquez is able to do is to present each experience of love in a non-judgmental way. Sure, other characters may have opinions about the relationships, but the narration does not try to privilege this one or that one as the greatest, best or purest love. García Márquez recognizes the complexity of people and the variety of relationships that they experience throughout their lives. The same even tone that does not distinguish between reality and magic is also employed when describing the actions of the characters—events happen because they did and characters act as they will.

 

5. Reading as Exploration

What I found, especially after reading this book for the second time, is that García Márquez has made the reader an explorer. Certainly one of the reasons people read is to gain knowledge, but with fiction the purpose is commonly entertainment. While One Hundred Years of Solitude includes fantastic stories and magical happenings, the core of this book is exploring humanity through the example of the Buendía family. Through the stories of the generations the reader is able to experience the variety in and the connections between families and, to a larger extent, all of humanity.

García Márquez does not specifically call for the reader to wonder about their own life or their own history, but one cannot help doing just that as they walk around the Buendía home for years with this family.

As I re-read this novel, I did feel the sensation again of sitting in a garden on a warm summer day, and I know that it is the Buendía’s garden I’m imagining because their home, their family, and their city of Macondo have become woven into my life too. We have shared humanity together and explored what that means.

—

I highly recommend, for the 5 reasons I’ve mentioned, that you give One Hundred Years of Solitude a try. It may seem odd in the beginning with the magical realism and the stark tone, but by the end the Buendía family and Macondo will feel like home.

Space Travel with C.S. Lewis

After H.G. Wells and Jules Verne, around the time of Isaac Asimov, Ray Bradbury, and the science fiction movement of the late 1930s, C. S. Lewis, a professor and author of The Chronicles of Narnia, published the first book in his science fiction trilogy, Out of the Silent Planet. In it, an unsuspecting traveler finds himself on another planet and must choose how he will react to his strange surroundings, the planet’s inhabitants, and his murderous travel companions.

 

Out of the Silent Planet

C.S. Lewis

Originally published: 1938, UK

158 pages

Click on the cover image to view the book on Amazon

*Fun Fact: The idea for this trilogy was born out of a shared distaste of modern literature with Lewis’ friend J.R.R. Tolkien. They agreed that Lewis would write a space novel and Tolkien would write a time travel novel.

 

Rating: 4 – Recommended Reading

 

Summary:

After finding shelter with an old colleague during a walking tour, Ransom finds himself waking from a drugged sleep and on board a spaceship moving quickly away from Earth. After overhearing his companions’ plans to sacrifice him to aliens upon arriving to another planet, he plots escape as soon as they land. Ransom runs into the wilds of the planet, Malacandra, and must learn to survive, which he is only able to do by befriending a hross, one of the native species. Through his journey, Ransom learns a great deal about Malacandra. When he unexpectedly meets up again with the men who brought him to the planet and is then summoned to the planet’s leader, he does not know what to expect. Will he be punished? Sent back to Earth? And how will he explain this planet if he returns?

 

What Worked:

• Descriptions

Having read a fair bit of C.S. Lewis’ other writings, I was not surprised at the beautiful descriptions in Out of the Silent Planet. The reader experiences the plot through the main character, Ransom. What impressed me more than the descriptions of Ransom’s experiences on Earth, was the evolution of the descriptions of Malacandra as Ransom begins to understand the planet better. When he first lands on the planet, Ransom’s descriptions of it are vague, and as he tries to understand his surroundings he compares them to what he knows—Earth. As Ransom travels around the planet and gets to know the planet’s inhabitants, however, his descriptions of Malacandra become clearer and more accurate. Lewis’ beautiful descriptions aid the reader in not only relating to Ransom but in sharing in his experience as a human on a strange planet.

• Ransom

The novel’s main character is Ransom, a philologist and an everyman character. When he is brought to Malacandra against his will, he reacts very naturally and is afraid for his own life. However, when Ransom later encounters a Malacandra inhabitant called a hross, he is curious about the creature and much less afraid of it than he had been of the humans. Ransom has a natural curiosity, supplemented by his interest in languages, which makes him relatable to the reader as well as the perfect vehicle for the reader to come to understand Malacandra. While some find Ransom to be a hallow everyman, I think that Lewis’ choice to make Ransom a more generalized person helps the reader to better adapt to and learn about Malacandra. Also, Lewis is known for including these types of generalized characters in his fiction to help guide the reader through unfamiliar settings like this one.

• Guide Character

Much like Mr. Tumnus in The Chronicles of Narnia series, Lewis includes a guide character in this novel who serves to explain this new world to the main character, and therefore the reader as well. In the first book of The Chronicles of Narnia (in the original publication order, not the current chronological order), The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, Lucy is the first to discover Narnia in the wardrobe and is introduced to this new world by a faun named Mr. Tumnus. Although his motives are questionable, Mr. Tumnus does explain to Lucy and the reader what Narnia is and a bit about the situation there. Likewise, Ransom finds his guide in Hyoi, a hross he meets during his flight from his captors. Like Mr. Tumnus, Hyoi helps to teach Ransom about this new world he finds himself on and explains the setting and offers some background. Also like Mr. Tumnus, Hyoi is a character the reader doesn’t know for long until tragedy strikes. I actually had to put down the book for a couple of days when Hyoi’s event happens because I suddenly found that I cared about his character more than I had expected.

• Mythos

One of the big focuses of the novel is on how Malacandra works, or the mythos of the planet. Lewis is known for his theological writings, and a great deal of his fiction also includes theological themes (like the supposal of The Chronicles of Narnia). Out of the Silent Planet and the rest of the space trilogy are no exception; however, Lewis does a good job of not creating an obvious allegory, and the book feels more like science fiction than theology. The elements of space travel and understanding a new culture, society, and world help secure this novel’s classification science fiction. Malacandra does, however, include somewhat of a spiritual (or at least, mysterious) side; there are beings that barely exist in this dimension who have power over the way that the planet functions. The main one is called Oyarsa and the others are eldil who are not given individual names. There are connections between Oyarsa and the other planets, including Earth, as well as questions about a higher power, but it is all described the way a religious system would be explained to a traveler. The mythos of Out of the Silent Planet is complicated and interesting and is further discussed in the rest of the trilogy.

 

What Didn’t Work:

• Action Pacing

Some readers may become frustrated with the unbalanced pacing of the action in this novel. Although there is an air of mystery from the beginning, there isn’t really any exciting action until the kidnapping of Ransom. This is followed by the space journey, which is more about the science of the ship and the journey than any real action. There is a bit of peril when they land in Malacandra, and then a lot of description of the planet and the creatures. Actually, most of Ransom’s time on Malacandra is spent learning about the language, the inhabitants, the planet’s history, and the connections between this planet and others. Really, the big action sequences are towards the beginning and the end of the novel. While the unbalanced action of the plot makes sense—because really this is a novel about cultural ideas and philosophies—it may bother some readers looking for a science fiction adventure novel.

 

Overall:

Out of the Silent Planet is a very C.S. Lewis-style novel. Don’t expect a typical science fiction novel and be open to ponder the reasons behind our human actions, and you’ll really enjoy it.

A Female Utopia: Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s Herland

Three male explorers set off to find a land they have only heard about that is populated solely by women. Will they find a society in upheaval? One that welcomes them as their natural leaders? Charlotte Perkins Gilman, the author of “The Yellow Wallpaper”, explores the idea of an all-female society in Herland.

 

Herland

Charlotte Perkins Gilman

Originally published: 1915 (serialized) and 1979 (book), USA

124 pages

 

Click on the cover for the link to Amazon.

 

Rating: 4 = Recommended Reading

 

Summary:

After hearing about a mysterious, isolated community of women, three male explorers go in search of it. They find a society that is populated only by women, which they name Herland. Through linguistic and cultural exchanges, the men learn about the society of Herland and have differing reactions: frustration and anger, reverence and assimilation, and beginning to question the society they came from.

 

What Worked:

• Believable world

Gilman wrote Herland from the men’s points of view as an adventure narrative. Because of this, the reader learns about Herland as the men do, particularly from Van the “author” of this book. The effect of this narrative method is that Herland is portrayed in vivid detail so that the reader can picture it. Gilman creates a well thought out society so that the reader believes in the possibility of its existence (the story would lose its effectiveness otherwise). Van and the other men have only their knowledge of their society and culture to fall back on when describing Herland and its inhabitants, so their background knowledge matches the reader’s knowledge. Gilman has done an excellent job imagining an all-female utopian society and how it would grow over thousands of years.

• Effective societal criticism

This novel is set in the time it was written, the early 20^th century, so as the men meet the women of Herland and learn their language, it is the American turn of the century culture that they teach the women about in exchange for information about Herland. The Herland women, being an all-women society, are very interested in how a “bi-sexual” society (a society with two sexes) functions. As the men explain how their society works, they begin to see it in a new way: through the eyes of the Herland women. Gilman uses this perspective to shine her feminist light on the position of women in the early 20^th century. The men are surprised, for example, that the women of Herland both labor and raise children, and realize that in the maternal-focused society of Herland perhaps they shouldn’t explain abortion to them. It is not just feminist issues that are criticized in Herland, Gilman also addresses her modern society’s dealings with food, poverty, and other social justice issues. Many of the issues Gilman describes in Herland are still societal issues today.

 

What Didn’t Work:

• Unanswered questions

While the picture of Herland is vivid and fleshed out, Gilman doesn’t explain everything and leaves the reader wondering about some issues in Herland society. While the history of Herland reveals that it was once a bi-sexual society, there is little discussion of sexuality in present-day Herland. Do the women claim a sexuality? Are they asexual? There is also a point in the novel where three women enter into relationships with the men in order that those three couples will enable Herland to become a bi-sexual society once again. However, it is unclear if all of the Herland women are on board with this idea. Perhaps that would be revealed later, depending on how the “experiment” went. Gilman also leaves the fate of Terry, one of the male explorers, open-ended so the reader is left to wonder what becomes of him. Actually, the book does have quite an abrupt end, which I found to be a problem until I read that this is actually the second book in a trilogy and With Her in Our Land, the third book, begins where Herland leaves off. [link to second text?]

 

Overall:

This is an interesting book for those who like utopian adventure style stories with some social commentary thrown in (bonus points for those interested in feminism, though that is not a requirement).

Harry Potter Series: The Prisoner of Azkaban

In this third novel in the Harry Potter series, Rowling is showing her maturity as a writer in creating more intricate plots, delving into Harry’s personal history, and deepening the characters. New characters, like Professor Lupin, were so great, I wanted to spend more time with them.

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
J.K. Rowling
Originally published: 1999, UK (and US)
435 pages

Click on the cover image to view this book on Amazon.

Rating: 4 = Recommended Reading

*2014 Reading Resolution: Modern Woman Writer – I should have been counting these novels all along!*

What Worked:

• More complex storyline

This book includes more of Harry’s past with the stories and characters of Sirius Black, Professor Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and Harry’s father, James. The stories of these characters add depth to the magical world Rowling has created, as well as flesh out the personal background of Harry, our central character. The more complex storyline allows Rowling to discuss previous generations at Hogwarts, new (to the reader) magical abilities, and Azkaban, the wizard prison. I could have heard even more stories from Harry’s father’s time at Hogwarts, and do hope Rowling will include some more later in the series. It seems like the complexity of these novels will only continue to increase from this point, which makes me hopeful that Rowling is out of the 2nd book rut (with an almost identical plot line to the first).

• Developing characters

Not only are Rowling’s storylines becoming more complex, but the main characters are showing more development than in the previous book. The trio—Harry, Ron, and Hermione—are growing up and Rowling is fleshing out their characters well.

Harry’s character depth comes from his desire to murder Sirius after hearing the story of why Sirius ended up in Azkaban. While Harry has been in some dangerous situations in the previous books, this desire to kill another human being is new for Harry and shows that he is both growing into an adult and that he has powerful emotions.

Ron’s depth comes from his protectiveness of Scabbers, his pet rat, and his intense grudge-holding against Hermione and particularly her cat Crookshanks. More than ever before, this novel shows Ron’s devotion to his pet (which also seems to extend to people) as well as his sensitivity to people who he believes have wronged him; he does not seem to forgive easily.

Hermione’s growth is more subtle, but she has been built up so far in the series as a very studious person who loves learning and school. In this novel, she faces a very full course load which causes her emotional distress and she drops Divination class because she doesn’t believe the divination powers are real. This reveals her skepticism and that she isn’t some super-student who cannot be affected by the stress of her work.

 

What Didn’t Work:

• Dementor confusion

I found that I had many questions about the dementors that were not sufficiently answered by the novel. The guards of the Azkaban prison, the dementors feed off of human happiness, leaving a person with their worst memories. Harry comes in contact with the dementors multiple times in this novel. They show up in the strangest places (like on the train) and at the most inopportune times (in the middle of a Quiddich match) when Harry encounters them. It makes it seem like the dementors are after Harry, but are they? Or, do they just affect him worse when he is in their vicinity (as Lupin tells Harry—he has more horrible memories than his classmates). If that’s true though, and Harry is just affected more than the others, then why don’t some of the adults suffer like Harry does? Don’t some of them have comparably terrifying memories? I am left with more questions about the dementors and how they function, particularly in relation to Harry.

Film Bits:

Before reading the books, this was not my favorite of the films; I found the time-traveling bit at the end made the scenes too redundant. After reading the book and re-watching the movie, I am of a similar mind but for different reasons.

The first half of the movie was well-condensed and kept to the main points while shortening the long bits (like all of the Quiddich playing). I understood the choices they made here and it was well done.

The second half of the movie was more focused on the time-travel storyline than the Black/Lupin/Pettigrew situation. Not the choice I would have made (since I found the Black/Lupin/Pettigrew storyline way more interesting) but there was only so much room in the film for the information in the book (and they did hit the high points).

 

Overall:

This is my favorite book in the series so far because of the increasing complexity of the plot and character depth the novel provides. I’m looking forward to the 4th book!

The World of Henson in Jim Henson: The Biography

You probably got to know Jim Henson’s creations before you came to know his name by watching The Muppet Show, Sesame Street or the many Muppet movies. Brian Jay Jones’ biography of the man behind some of the most iconic puppetry our time is highly informative, riveting, and nostalgic.

Jim Henson: The Biography
Brian Jay Jones
Originally published: 2013, USA
490 pages

Click the cover image to view this book on Amazon

Rating: 4 = Recommended Reading

*Two of my 2014 New Years Resolution Goals!* — Modern Fiction (since 2010) and Biography/Autobiography

 

Summary:

Jones’ biography of Jim Henson goes chronologically through Henson’s life. Beginning with his family history, Henson’s birth, and his childhood, Jones sets up the background of his famous subject’s life. Jones holds nothing back as he progresses through the personality traits of Henson’s family, Henson’s own marriage difficulties, and his sometimes maddening devotion to his work and creative vision. Henson comes off as a complex, imperfect man, who strove to do as much as he could during his time on earth. He lived life with passion, humor, and unboundless creativity.

Excellent Bits:

• Full story

Jones’ access to personal interviews as well as family and business records allowed him to fill in not only Henson’s life but the details of his surroundings throughout his life. Jones provides family history back a couple of generations and is also able to discuss Henson’s brief Mississippi childhood in brilliant colors. Henson’s schooling and early infatuation with the technology of television is presented in detail, with a nice blend of facts and feelings. As Henson’s life becomes increasingly complex, Jones keeps the level of detail and background going, presenting the many facets of the man.

• Interview integration

Sometimes in biographies the interview data is presented in large chunks or it interrupts the text. In this book, Jones does an excellent job of integrating all of the interview information so that it does not interrupt the narrative. Jones also uses a variety of sources to avoid a strong bias and keeps conflicting points of view in the text. This enables Jones to construct a richer, more complex view of Henson and his life. Jones doesn’t shy away from including interview bits that reveal criticism of Henson or uncomfortable information like Henson’s wife’s perspective on Henson’s lovers later in their marriage.

• Emotional connection

It is difficult to write about an icon, especially one whose works the biographer encountered in childhood, without some sort of personal bias. Having grown up with the Muppet movies as well as Sesame Street and The Muppet Show in syndication (and The Dark Crystal and Labyrinth when I got older), I was also biased as I approached this book as a reader: I wanted to know how amazing Jim Henson was. I do not think this is a bad thing with biographies—it’s perhaps unavoidable—but Jones did not write an ode to Henson or a sappy feel-good biography. All of the parts of Henson are on display here, even ones the reader may find morally questionable or eccentric. What Jones does well is that he presents an honest picture of Henson’s life without forcing the reader to lose the emotional connection they have with Henson’s work. I’ll admit that the last chapter about Henson’s untimely death and his beautifully unique funeral brought me to tears, mourning a man I had never met.

Less Effective Elements:

• Information balance

Jones shows himself to be a strong researcher and a good historian by examining so many sources and collecting so many interviews; however, the research details are sometimes overwhelming and unnecessary. I found myself skimming over many of the dates and times of events like meetings and television broadcast schedules, in favor of getting to the overall story Jones was telling. While details are needed to bring Henson to life, the dense facts certainly do not make this book a quick or an easy read.

Overall:

Jim Henson: The Biography is for old and new fans alike, whether you are familiar with Henson’s life or just his work. It is an ultimately triumphant story of a man with unbridled creativity who accomplished so much in his life and brought happiness and laughter to so many. Pick up a copy; you won’t regret it.

Harry Potter Series: Sorcerer’s Stone and Chamber of Secrets

I am 28 years old and I have never before read any of J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series. I have watched all of the movies though and have finally set aside the time to read the novels. This is the first installation of my Harry Potter book reviews from the point of view of an adult reading them for the first time. This post covers books one and two of the series. Enjoy!

1. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

Click the cover image to view the book on Amazon

4 = Recommended Reading

The book is much like the movie. I know it’s sacrilege to not say that the other way around, but many of the main characters and plot points from the book are unchanged in the movie.

What Worked

• Series Introduction

Rowling does a good job of setting up the characters, the world, and the big plot points in this first book of the series. The beginning of the book thrusts the reader into Harry’s life at the Dursleys, but gives some of the backstory of how he got there. The introductory elements are well-balanced and easy to follow.

• Character Development

From the beginning, Rowling crafts interesting, believable characters. The Dursleys are introduced well and are given some variety in personality where other authors may have made them all pretty much the same character. The hero, Harry, is easy to relate to, especially since the reader learns about the wizard world primarily from his point of view.

• The Magical World

Rowling’s vision for a magical world that works both in conjunction with ours and also exists apart from ours is excellent. Even from this first book, the world is developed and deeply real—similar to Tolkien’s highly developed Middle Earth (excepting Tolkien’s devotion to languages).

What Didn’t Work

• Editing

I understand that as an editor I may be more sensitive to this issue, but it is pretty obvious that this book was the first book in a series from a novice author. The result is that the book is in need of some editing to deal with awkward wording, repetition, and unclear areas. And saying this is a children’s book does not make up for the lackluster editing at all (see C. S. Lewis’ Narnia series). While it is obvious that this is Rowling’s first novel, the strong points of the book I mentioned earlier are what makes Rowling a good writer and her series so successful.

Book/Movie Differences of Note

• Neville and Ron

The character of Neville in the book is still clumsy but he is not an idiot, as the movie sometimes makes him seem. For example, in the book Neville is the one who explains the Rememberall. In a similar vein, Ron also provides more explanations of the magical world in the book than in the movie, which makes sense as he has grown up with magic all around him whereas Harry and Hermione have not.

• On the Path to the Sorcerer’s Stone

The book has Hermione solve a logic puzzle after Ron’s epic game of Wizard’s Chess. I enjoyed this scene because it showed that logic and critical thinking are important whether you can use magic or not. It also made Hermione more useful on the way to the Sorcerer’s Stone, aside from her knowing about the plants, which was more in line with the knowledge she’d displayed earlier in the book.

2. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

Click on the cover to view the book on Amazon

3 = Worth a Try

In this second book of the series, Rowling is developing as a writer and delving deeper into the wizard world. While the plot to this book starts out remarkably similar to the first, it is the darkened tone that makes it more alluring.

What Worked

• Tone Darkening

The tone of the first book maybe reached sinister, but this book gets full out dark by the end. There are petrified people (and a cat) and creepy messages written on the walls. Tom Riddle is frightening because he seems to lack all sympathy or care for anyone or anything. I think this book is appropriately dark for the ages of the characters and for the progression of the series; and I love it.

What Didn’t Work

• Unnecessary Introductory Material

While the previous book was the first of the series and needed quite a bit of introductory information about the wizard world, this book needed less and included too much. There were some places where Rowling did a great job of introducing people or events from the previous book (like the Forbidden Forest), but most of the time she took too much space to tell the reader things they already knew (or should know, if they were reading the series in its proper order).

• Strikingly Similar Plot

This book has almost the same plot as the previous one with the bumbling detective group (almost ala Mr. Magoo at times) of Harry, Hermione, and Ron, although Hermione is sadly absent for the exciting detective work. While this plot worked nicely in the first book, by now it feels a bit stale (We can’t tell anyone! Let’s meddle in secret; no one will get hurt!). The reader does almost learn more about the Dark Arts, but Lockhart’s ridiculousness prevents them from really learning anything of substance. While the revealing of Tom Riddle and the dark ending of the book certainly made it more exciting, I would have liked to see the characters grow up a little or at least show that they learned something from the previous year’s adventures

Book/Movie Differences of Note

• Ministry of Magic

In the movie, much of the back and forth between Mr. Wesley and Mr. Malfoy are removed. This omits much of the information Harry (and the reader) learns about the different facets of the Ministry of Magic. While this information may not seem particularly necessary for the plot, I find the Ministry politics fascinating and important for the larger story arc.

Well there you are. Stay tuned for more reviews as I continue to read the entire Harry Potter series for the first time as an adult.

Imagination and Unevenness: Jo Baker’s Longbourn

Austen’s masterpiece Pride and Prejudice seems finished, but Jo Baker’s Longbourn takes you downstairs into the lives of the Bennet family’s servants. Baker focuses on a housemaid, Sarah, who is stuck in a love triangle of her own between two footman: the mysterious James and the worldly Ptolemy.

 

Longbourn

Jo Baker

Originally published: 2013, USA

332 pages

Click on the cover image to view the novel at Amazon.com

 

Rating: 2 = At Your Own Risk

 

*Two of my 2014 New Years Resolution Goals!* — Modern Fiction (since 2010) and Modern Women (woman author since 1950)

 

Summary:

Set in Regency England, Longbourn follows the servants at Longbourn, the estate of the famous Bennet family from Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. While all of the servants are characters, the focus is on Sarah, one of the Bennets’ housemaids. Sarah is around Elizabeth and Jane’s ages and came to work for the Bennets as an orphaned child. Just as Lizzy and Jane are having to deal with their suitors, Sarah finds herself intrigued by two footmen: the quiet, mysterious James who was just hired at the Bennets and the bold Ptolemy who works for the Bingleys but has dreams of going into business for himself. While the familiar cast of Austen’s characters parade through the novel, Sarah must make important life choices and decide to pursue either James or Ptolemy.

 

What Worked:

• James

James was by far the most interesting character. Initially a mystery for everyone in the novel—aside perhaps from Mr. Bennet who hired him—James is reserved and careful in his duties around Longbourn. The reader is thankfully privy to some of his thoughts, or his characterization would be very uneven. As it is, Baker does an excellent job of fleshing out the character of James, making him easily the most likable, sympathetic, and deepest character in the novel. Instead of being an easy male type (like the prince or the rake, of which there are many examples in the novel), James becomes a real person for the reader. Part of what helps with his realism is that Baker spends the most time describing his life before Longbourn, a luxury no other character is afforded in the same way. It is clear that James is a favorite of the author as well.

• Ptolemy

While I do have many good things to say about each of the male characters in the novel (they are much stronger and more interesting than the female characters), I have to point out Ptolemy because here is finally a depiction of a man of color in the Regency era. Ptolemy is the Bingleys servant, but aspires to open up his own tobacco shop. This recognition of people of color in England at this time is nice, and Baker does a good job to not draw to much attention to the fact that she has done this. She also does not take this opportunity to make any big social statement of the times, but her execution of the character is solid and not stereotypical.

• Darker Stories

By focusing her novel on the servant class, Baker has the opportunity to create darker stories for her characters. She even is able to make some of Austen’s characters a bit nastier, like Wickham. One particularly nice choice Baker made is in including a fairly lengthy segment with the British troops in the Napoleonic Wars. While Austen’s novels feature an array of military men, she rarely gets into much of the details of battle (with Persuasion being the most military of her novels). While Austen’s omission of these details is not odd (she was dealing with upper class people after all), Baker is able to expand on historical events like war by focusing on people who would have been infantrymen, not officers. In a way, Baker’s darker plot focus is more practical and helps to round out the historical time period of both her and Austen’s novels.

 

What Didn’t Work:

• Sarah

While there were some strong male characters in Longbourn, the female characters were lacking. Sarah, the main character of the novel, was not very relatable once her personality shone through. In the beginning, the reader falls into her shoes through descriptions of the hard work she does, but as a person Sarah is childish, whiny, and selfish. Having been orphaned at a young age, Sarah is lucky to be working as a servant in a decent house; however, she does not realize this and pines for another life. She is not at the bottom of the heap by any means, although her life does involve a lot of physical labor. Sarah seems to care for Polly, the younger housemaid from a similar background, but Sarah does not take a sisterly role and Polly’s character fades as the story progresses. Sarah is believable in most of her scenes with Ptolemy and James as she gets to know them, but her obsession with one of them for about half the novel is pretty painful to watch. When her love goes missing for a time, Sarah is reduced to a selfish child who has lost a favorite toy and begs everyone (no matter how improper it is for her to address them) to give the toy back to her.

• Character Inconsistency

While many of the characters are well fleshed out and interesting, others are quite inconsistent in the way Baker portrays them. Sarah is one, of course, as she is depicted as self-sufficient in the first half of the novel (in her work, teaching Polly, dealing with Ptolemy), but as a selfish, irresponsible character in the latter half of the novel. It could be argued that love changed her, but a strong love would make the character shift go the other way around. Aside from Sarah, there is also Polly, who begins as the obvious little sister of the group who is still learning her work and finding her place in life. But that is also where Polly ends. She doesn’t have to transform into a beautiful butterfly of a fully-realized woman at the end of the novel, but a little character growth shouldn’t be too much to ask.

• Odd Sexual Moments

I don’t want to mislead you, this is not a bodice-ripper sexy-time romance book, but it does have a handful of sexual moments. While it is silly to deny that sexuality existed in the Regency era, many of these moments feel forced and awkward. It doesn’t help that they mostly have to do with Sarah. In one, Sarah finds herself thinking of the man she loves while trying to fall asleep in the bed she shares with Polly, so Sarah touches herself. While I’m not against masturbation in literature, this moment was awkward (I mean, Polly can probably tell something is up) and comes out of nowhere to do nothing really for the character. The only possibility is that this scene is preparing the reader for the idea Sarah may want to have sex with her man at some point, but there are other ways that are less forced to make that clear. Also, when Sarah is travelling to London on the back of the carriage, a random street boy sticks his hand up her dress and between her thighs. This incident lasts for about 2 sentences, and there are other ways to let the reader know that London (and the outside, unchaperoned world) is a dangerous place for a young woman. Sex is a powerful tool in literature, but when not executed properly can feel forced and awkward, as most of the sexual moments in Longbourn do.

 

Overall:

While I admire Baker’s bold step to take on Austen’s famous Bennets and add depth to the Regency era, with the unrelatable main character and plot and character inconsistencies, I cannot say that I would recommend this book highly. Some of you may enjoy it—and if this review makes you curious, go for it—but borrow it from your local library and don’t set your hopes too high.