The End of the Reading List!

I have finally finished the list of books I set myself to read at the start of the year. It's only taken me three months longer than I anticipated to get through them all. Here is a link to my posts on the previous books included in the list. As you can see from the first post, I have revised the list slightly (!) - some books I didn't read at all, while I have added a couple that were not in the first post.

Anyway, onto my thoughts about the final two books.

Dibs in Search of Self

by Virginia M. Axline

This book has been lounging on my mum's bookshelf for years and years, and I never paid it any attention until I saw a quote from it somewhere in the bowels of the internets. Intrigued, I picked up the book and read it in the space of an evening.

It's very easy to read, and a very insightful and uplifting book. Ostensibly a book on child development and behaviour, I think many people would be able to take something away from it as ultimately it's more about emotion and the self in general, and our relationships with others. It was fascinating to read the way Dibs acted out, through play, his feelings towards his parents. The only issue I had with the book was the kid's name - Dibs? Really? Why would you change the kid's name for confidentiality reasons to a name like that? It annoyed me every time I read it, it just sounded so ridiculous. 

The Well of Loneliness

by Radclyffe Hall

I realise that, at least a few years ago (perhaps not so much nowadays but I'm not so sure), mentioning this book or displaying it on your shelf was a subtle way of stating your sexual orientation to those 'in the know'. Being interested in books on sexuality/gender identity anyway, I decided to add this book to my list, as it sounded intriguing.

I have to say, though, while I appreciate it did a lot to raise awareness in the last century, I wasn't overly enamoured with it. My feelings towards it are those of a slight fondness, but it was quite angsty and melodramatic in parts, and it was basically very negative about feelings of love between anyone other than a man and a woman; as if homosexual relationships are basically doomed in some way, no matter what.

Moreover, I couldn't help comparing it to Virginia Woolf's Orlando, which was published in the same year, has similar themes, but was much more enjoyable and more my type of book. So, I don't think I will be reading The Well of Loneliness again - however, I do feel glad I have read it, and I guess it has been informative in its way. 

----------------------------------------

Now I've finished my list I'm going to take a bit of a break from reading. I'm pleased to say that I have been very good and mostly kept to my original rule of not buying any more books until I'd got through this list - I only bought one, and in my defence it was at a really cool book sale at Winchester Cathedral, and it had a beautiful cover.

Reading through this list and blogging about it has, I think, made me more analytical about the books I read - which is a good thing because I didn't used to think particularly critically about them, other than simplistic views that were barely more detailed than "it was fun to read and it had a tiger in it" (Life of Pi - which, incidentally, is one of my favourite books). I also feel like I've upped my 'knowledge-ometer' by having read quite a few of the classics - I might just have to balance that out by reading five trashy crime movels in a row (NEVER).

The Book List

I'm getting to the end of this list, so close! Although, I have to confess that I have cheated slightly and got rid of a few without reading them, which reduced the pile somewhat. I'm going to defend this action and say that the ones I got rid of, just didn't appeal any more; either I'd had them for so long and I'd changed my mind about the blurb on the back, or they were books I'd just acquired without any particular interest, simply because I never turn a free book down. But I realised, this New Year's resolution was still supposed to be enjoyable, so I figured it wouldn't do me any favours to keep on the list books I'm just not interested in reading.

Far From The Madding Crowd

by Thomas Hardy

It took me a while to get through this, partly due to doing other stuff, and also I just wasn't that enamoured with it. There were odd parts that were definitely beautiful, and Hardy's descriptions of the countryside and farming life are particularly evocative. However, I didn't really like the way he portrayed the characters, nor his insight into human emotions - particularly womens'. I got the impression several times throughout the book that Hardy didn't much like women or respect them, and even though Bathsheba was a really strong, self-willed, independent character, for all that I don't think she was written in a particularly likable way. 

(look at that cover! Isn't it gloriously retro?)

Lady Chatterley's Lover

by D.H. Lawrence

This book I enjoyed much more; which surprised me, as I didn't much enjoy the other D.H. Lawrence book I have read (Women In Love). It didn't seem quite so pretentious as Women In Love.

Although there was still a lot of expostulating on theories of love, class and society, it somehow fit better in this novel and didn't seem quite so obviously a vehicle for Lawrence's own theories and beliefs about life. The scenes between the two lovers were passionate, without being overly sentimental - overall, a really rather good book.

I only have three books left on my list - and two of those are ones that have been added since the start of January. I aim to have the list completed by the end of April, fingers crossed!

The Book List: Part [Who Knows]

Another two books to cross off the list and take off the slowly-decreasing stack! I finally feel like I'm making progress with it now, although I will probably change my mind when I get to James Joyce's Ulysses... I'm totally dreading that book, and I might cheat and give it up altogether if it's as tedious as I fear it will be. Why did I even buy it?

Rant over. Ahem.

First up we have One Hundred Years of Solitude, by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. 

I actually didn't love, adore or cherish this book as much as I thought/hoped I would. That said, I still enjoyed it very much. The rhythm of the plot gives the book a haunting atmosphere, as do the occasional supernatural occurrences throughout the story. It's often quite sad, in a sort of poignant, reflective, melancholy way, and often very beautiful as well. Yet at the same time, the characters are imbured with so much life I didn't notice just how sad parts were until I reflected back on them.

While I don't have a particularly strong opinion about the book now, due to the writing style and the themes throughout the book, I do think that the feel of it will linger with me for quite a while. I always like it when that happens with a book, though I'm never sure if anyone else ever gets that feeling?

I've just finished reading A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens. I enjoyed this novel immensely, so that brings the total of Dickens novels I have loved up to 2 out of 2. Go me. 

I wasn't particularly taken with the subject of the novel at first (the French revolution) - I thought it would be overly political, and little bit dry. Clearly I don't know Dickens very well, as it was less about politics, more about love and bloodshed, liberty and equality, tyrannism and morality. It was a little slow to start with but became increasingly gripping halfway through. Plus, as before, excellent writing throughout.

A Tale of Two Cities wasn't quite as enjoyable as Great Expectations, for me. I think that's because there was more scope for humour and witticisms in Great Expectations, whereas of course that wasn't appropriate for A Tale of Two Cities. Nevetheless, it was still a fantastic book and I am again smarting that I didn't give him a chance earlier. I know what's going on my shopping list once my book-buying ban is over!

Snow and books, a good combination (The Book List)

I have another two books to tick off the list this week, on account of the snow we had over the weekend - there's nothing better to do in bad weather than curl up with a hot drink and a book.

Apart from going sledging and building snowmen. Which I also did.

 

 

I do like taking pictures of the snow.

But anyway. Onto more literary pursuits..

First up is the Diary of a Madman and Other Stories, by Nikolai Gogol. It's a collection of short stories, which I picked up at a carboot sale purely because the title sounded intriguing and short stories are always less of a commitment than a full-length novel. 

I'm not quite sure whether I liked these stories or not. They were certainly easy to read, but I didn't really get much sense of feeling or atmosphere from the author; that said, I liked the madness of most of the stories. Quite absurd and ridiculous, even while being mundane at the same time. I probably wouldn't read anything else of Gogol's though.

A Hungarian Quartet. Another carboot sale find I think, purchased purely because it featured Hungarian writers. I'm half-Hungarian and I'm always interested in the culture of my roots. I did attempt to learn Hungarian once but that fell by the wayside a long time ago, on account of the complex (to me) grammatical structures.

Anyway. Tangent! I liked this collection of stories more than Gogol's. Variously, there were interesting premises, engaging and atmospheric writing, emotions bubbling below the surface, and haunting and evocative imagery. Maybe I should take up learning the language again, so I can try read the stories in their original language...


~~~~~~
This is my first week back at work, so I'm trying to re-adjust my life to having less leisure time on my hands. I aim to continue blogging, though it will most likely be less frequently - I still aim to post 2 or 3 times a week though.