Heart of Darkness

It’s rather fitting that I post about Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness amidst the swirling winds of Hurricane Irene, for nothing seems more uncertain and dangerous than the combination of Conrad’s style and 70mph wind gusts. No really, the sky is the color of ink that’s seeped out of its well and been smeared around on an old scrap of parchment, and the perfect shade to represent the entire novel of Heart of Darkness, with its gritty detail, sweeping plot and unique take on how one tells a story.

            The novel opens with a group of men sitting on the deck of a ship, sailing silently down the Thames as nightfall approaches. Thus far, Conrad is not making a radical departure from his usual nautical formula. However, the narrator, upon introducing each of the men and their surroundings briefly, takes a backseat to Marlowe, who begins to tell the story. I thought that it would just be a little bit of a story, something to wet the reader’s appetite to the rest of the novel, and a means with which Conrad decided where he was actually going plot wise. Instead, Marlowe’s story actually spans the entirety of the novel, creating an element of meta-story telling and an atmosphere that is only broken by the true narrator a couple times in order to harshly jolt the reader out of the African colonies and back into the civilized world they know. This method is startling and wonderful, for the fantastic world of Africa and the savagery of the story is in such stark contrast with Conrad’s calm nautical world that the emphasis on the darkness that the characters encounter within humanity is that much stronger.

            When I say emphasis, I’m not joking. Conrad grabs hold of a certain phrase in each of his novels and wears it to pieces the same way a child does a favorite toy. The words heart of darkness are littered throughout the novel, just in case anyone forgot that traveling into the jungle in the middle of Africa and encountering savage whites and not so savage natives might be anything but strange and dark. I managed to get over this sense of being beaten over the head with a theme and tried to focus on Conrad’s style, which is the true beauty of the novel.

            Ah, Conrad’s style. Let’s face it, I could really take or leave the plot of this one, but I fell in love with the way the words were put together. He manages to describe things so simply but still capturing exactly what makes a scene or a person unique or haunting. There are moments of humor created simply by a turn of phrase or a particularly apt description, and passages that cause a chill up the spine at the depravity of the human condition. Conrad’s mastery of each end of the emotional spectrum is triumphant and makes his novels grand things, worthy of the praise time has heaped upon them. Humor me for the moment as I share several bits that grabbed me for some reason or another.

“It’s queer how out of touch with truth women are. They live in a world of their own, and there has never been anything like it, and never can be. It is too beautiful altogether, and if they were to set it up it would go to pieces before the first sunset.” (pg 76)

“The mind of man is capable of anything-because everything is in it, all the past as well as all the future. What was there after all? Joy, fear, sorrow, devotion, valour, rage-who can tell?-but truth-truth stripped of its clock of time. Let the fool gape and shudder-the man knows, and can look on without a wink.” (pg 106)

Only two examples, and interestingly enough both two different takes on gender (an exploration of which I will spare you for the moment) but both breathtaking with their simplicity that belies the depth to which Conrad is speaking about humanity. So go, pick up Heart of Darkness and immerse yourself in a sea of language whose swells will easily pack the same punch as the ones Hurricane Irene seems set upon delivering right now.

The Hunger Games

Phenomenal! I’m not sure that I’ve read a book this quickly in an incredibly long time, but I simply could not stop with Suzanne Collins The Hunger Games. Having finished it only minutes ago I’m already desperate for the next in the trilogy and plotting how to obtain it as fast as possible.

            Now let me slow down a bit and elaborate on these feelings of such intense fervor. This novel, although written clearly with a young adult audience in mind, had drawn influence from very adult concepts. Annihilation of our modern world as we know it, intense government interference and control, the suffering of the poor and the frivolity of the rich, and above all, the terribly confusing feeling of falling hopelessly in love, just to name a few. Collins has created a world where children are sent to compete to the death to keep the people of Panem, a 1984 mixed with V for Vendetta with a shot of Oz type society, from rising up in rebellion as it had once done. And with that one simple choice she immediately draws you in. How can a reader not be fascinated by the idea that these characters are not adults, some barely even teens, and yet are coping with events far beyond the scope of any normal person’s existence? Thankfully Collins tempers her indulgence in violence and gores just enough to keep a sinister and raw edge to the setting, without allowing it to overwhelm the novel as a whole.

            Of course, a novel is nothing without it’s protagonist, and Katniss Everdeen is one to go down in the history books of literature. She reminded me so much of Tamora Pierce’s Diane from her Immortals series. And if you’ve been reading this blog at all you know my connection to any of Pierce’s characters, hence there was no chance of Katniss and I not getting along splendidly. She’s a fierce girl, protective and independent but not above feeling and being human. Her early friendship with Gale, a boy from home, is written with grace and moderation. You don’t quite realize that she might be in love with him until Katniss does herself. Of course, the rest of the novel interrupts whatever love might have been between the two, and throws us instead into the heady whirlwind of Katniss and Peeta’s relationship. The two start as allies, then enemies, then lovers (as only a young adult novel can work the term “lovers”) and then leave off in a precarious position of indecision and mistrust. He loves her more than anything, and Katniss hasn’t the faintest idea if she’s ready for that, even able to return it on the same level. Thus Collins triumphs, as I the reader struggled alongside Katniss to discern the wayward tides of love. I’m pretty sure I ended up just as confused as our heroine.

            The novel is fast paced, with action that makes putting it down close to impossible. The characters are relatable, while the setting just strange enough to make this a new story wrapped in the pieces of old ones. Not to be hyperbolic, but I actually will say that this is the best book I’ve read in a very long time and only look forward with eager anticipation to the rest of the trilogy and any work Collins might produce in the future. Go read it. NOW!

The Secret Sharer

I love the ocean. If you know me, then this is redundant information, but it must be said. A good nautical tale makes me absurdly happy. There is something about the lonely character of a sea captain and the ample descriptions to be written about the expanse of the open ocean that totally do it for me. Add a dash of secrecy and a touch of heavy-handed symbolism and you get Joseph Conrad’s The Secret Sharer, my most recently read short story.

            I have never read anything of Conrad’s before (I’m sorry Professor Jeremy at UEA for not doing the assigned reading!) and didn’t quite know what to expect with his work. I’d heard about his better-known novel Heart of Darkness and when I bought my copy of that novel, The Secret Sharer was included in the edition. So I started off with this short story full of intrigue and duality and the sea. I enjoyed Conrad’s easy descriptions of his various characters. He would fleetingly mention the more boring details of countenance and stature and focus completely on the few things that really created a character in the person, such as the first mate’s absurd whiskers and blustering speech.

His narrator, the unnamed Captain is a brilliant personification of isolation, set apart from his crew and the reader. This isolation allows for Conrad to push the theme of duality to the breaking point with the introduction of Leggatt, the escaped murderer who the Captain feels an immediate bond with, often saying that looking at Leggatt is like looking at him in the mirror. There were wonderful moments in the story when the two men were alone, sitting in silence contemplating the other as much as they were contemplating their own person. There were also several funny moments when the captain in his zeal to keep his double from being discovered behaves erratically with his steward, inciting a chuckle as well as that lovely knot of tension deep in your belly.

The tension that Conrad built up in this story was perhaps my favorite element of all. I would only read it while I was on my break at work, so in twenty minute chunks at most, and I would be consumed with the desire to read faster because I felt as though something insane would happen at any moment. I had no trouble at all getting right into the story, for Conrad didn’t trouble himself with the exposition required for a longer novel, and thus each moment between the Captain and Leggatt was new and exciting and charged. As the reader I felt like I too was in on the secret, sharing with the two men who were bonded so closely over a seemingly random event.

Now to be as succinct as Conrad is. I loved The Secret Sharer for the sheer ease with which it was written, and yet the depth of the writing that was still evident. In the words of my dear friend Kris Conrad has “just enough nautical flavor to be slightly esoteric without being dickish,” something that any author attempting to tackle writing about the ocean and it’s distinct character should take note of.

Tortall and Other Lands

Let me just begin by saying, yes, I know that I am no longer a thirteen year old girl. I cannot justify putting myself in the child category and let’s face it, even young adult literature is really only aimed at sixteen year olds. Nope, I am very much too old for Tamora Pierce’s most recent book and yet I read it because she is my hero. I have read literally every book the woman has ever written and give her full credit for my childhood not being completely devoid of positive, strong, female role models. In her latest, Tortall and Other Lands, a collection of short stories set within the universe of the Tortall novels, Pierce proves once again that she has mastered the creation of the young female heroine who isn’t afraid to be witty, sharply clever, and fierce with a sword to boot.

I will grant you this; the stories all blur together a bit unless you’ve read the rest of Pierce’s work and remember the particular characters that she does revisit. It was quite fun for an avid fan like myself to find out what happened after Numair turned Tristan into a tree, and just how Ally and Nawat’s marriage turned out. Of course you’re probably reading this shaking your head and saying, “Who?” Never fear! There are stories in this collection that require no previous reading or knowledge of Pierce’s characters. In fact, those are perhaps the best ones, especially her brief foray into a Islamic-esque setting that relates to present political circumstances without blatantly delivering an opinion of such.

Now, I’m not saying this is an overtly bad thing, but each story follows a very distinct formula: young girl whose a bit of an outsider asserts herself and proves that just because she is young and a woman doesn’t mean anyone else can mess with her. There isn’t any grand language or style, and you never have to stop and really think about any particular part. It’s all easy, and for that I think the collection succeeds in its ultimate purpose, to get young girls to read and feel good about whom they are and can become. Hell, I’m old (not really, but for all intents and purposes) and I thoroughly enjoyed whipping through a story or two on my break and work. In the end I wasn’t looking for something to mentally challenge me. I wanted the comfort of an author I’ve grown up with and that’s exactly what I got.

Tongues of Serpents

Although I hate to start my reviews off smack dab in the middle of a series, timing lends itself to such. I’ve just finished Naomi Novik’s Tongues of Serpents, the sixth installment in her Temeraire series, a work of historical fantasy that sets the Napoleonic Wars in a reality where dragons create the Aerial Combat Corps, a force much like Britain’s RAF that would be formed decades later with the advent of the fighter plane. Novik crafts her novels with an emphasis on the historical rather than the fantastic, thus giving each novel in the series a sense of realism that grounds, rather than distracts the reader.

            In this latest novel, the dragon Temeraire and his human captain Laurence have been exiled to the prison colonies in Australia after being convicted of treason. Sadly this baseline creates a sense of finality and defeat during the early chapters, as if Novik didn’t quite know what to do with the story she’d created, but couldn’t bear to just let it end. However, military politics and a healthy does of contrived adventure push the plot along, so that I was quickly able to move past my early disinterest and engage with characters that by now I know quite well.

            In fact, the characters are the diving force behind Tongues of Serpents, which otherwise would have been a rather lack luster read. Novik has honed her skill for writing witty dialogue, and it truly shines in quick exchanges between the rough and tumble men of the Corps, and Laurence, who clings to his past Naval propriety. Of course, Temeraire provided me with the moments I actually chuckled out loud. Over the course of the series, he’s becoming increasingly move vocal on the subject of equality and democracy, viewing the world with a childlike innocence, and delivering one liners that simultaneously provide humor and provocation. His unabashed discussion with Laurence about the difference between mating for procreation versus pleasure was only one of the many times when I had to quickly stifle my snorts of amusement while reading in public.

            Overall, Tongues of Serpents does not stand out as the best of the Temeraire series, but I would still recommend it for those who delve into Novik’s universe and as I did, quickly become to engaged to think about skipping an adventure.

Once upon a time...

Once upon a time there was a young woman who realized that the only thing she really wanted to do in life was read. Yes, she was finishing college and applying for jobs in the new and frightening real world, but in her heart she knew that the only world she would ever need was the one her books provided her.

And now the movie trailer voice can be turned off, and we'll get to the heart of the matter. I love books. I love reading. I love writing. I've decided to review any book I read from here on in, throwing objectivity to the wind and simply responding to the novel at hand. Let's chuck academia for a bit and just have at it, yeah?

Oh, and about the title. It is my greatest dream to one day own a home with a wonderfully old fashioned library, complete with walls of books that can only be reached by those cool sliding ladders, and a massive leather chair next to a window that the sun pours through each afternoon. I'm convinced that one can do the most extraordinary thinking when seated in such a grand and comfortable spot, and thus my reviews will the musings from that hypothetical slice of the future.

I will readily admit that I favor fantasy and historical fantasy/fiction when choosing what I read for pleasure. I also love contemporary fiction and am a sad sucker from slightly angst ridden young adult novels that I really have no business reading at my age (but what the hell, they're fun). Classics are of course always up for grabs and once I'm back at school (Middlebury College)  the academic texts will filter their way in as well. My aim is to, as P.J. O'Rourke once said, "Always read something that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it." So look forward to a plethora of reviews across all genre's, and perhaps you'll even give the books I'm reading a go as well. Welcome, and happy reading.