Book Chase

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Daniel Defoe

>Here’s a rather intriguing film trailer for the latest version of Jane Eyre, scheduled for release in March 2011.  I have to admit that the music and sound effects make this a whole lot spookier to me than the book was (turn your speakers up loud for the full effect).

To get all the details about the movie, visit the official website here.

>Tame by today’s standards, Summer, Edith Wharton’s most sexually explicit novel, probably shocked more than a few readers when it was first published almost 100 years ago. That it is also one of only two novels Wharton placed in a rural setting makes Summer even more unique among her novels.

Charity Royall is bored with her little North Dormer community and only works as the town librarian so she can save enough money to escape the life she endures there. She cares little for books and is perfectly willing to allow them to self-destruct on the shelves while she daydreams about a more exciting existence. But, as it turns out, her fate will be forever linked to the little library.

Lucius Harney, a young architect, has come to North Dormer to visit his aunt and to study and sketch some of the old homes in the area. When he wanders into the library one day in search of a book about the old houses, Charity is smitten with him and unknowingly sets the course that will alter the rest of her life. It is the start of a relationship that, even though it begins innocently, is best kept from the prying eyes of the town gossips. Charity knows that her guardian, Lawyer Royall, the man who did a better job of raising her before his wife died than after, would never approve the match – and that there are those in town who would relish the opportunity to tell him about it.

Secrecy, though, requires privacy, and privacy often leads to a degree of intimacy that results in tragic consequences for the unwed. Only after Harney returns to his life in New York, does Charity realize that she is pregnant – and on her own. As Wharton makes clear, a woman of this period facing Charity’s dilemma had few options: illegal abortion, being sent away to have the baby in secrecy, running away in shame, or perhaps the unlikely luck of finding a sympathetic man willing to marry her.

Charity moves from desperation to despair when she realizes how limited her choices have become and that the life she was already unhappy with has been forever changed, and that change being for the worse. As she moves from one poor decision to the next, at times risking her very life, one is reminded of how greatly American mores and values have changed in the last five decades.

Summer, even though it was governed by the stricter limits of its time on language and theme, is a memorable portrayal of what it was like for a woman to be “in trouble” during the first half of the 20th century. That it still can have a strong impact on the reader today leaves one wondering why it was not more of a sensation when first published. Edith Wharton fans should not overlook this fine novel.

Rated at: 4.0

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Pictures are stills captured from actual DVD

Max and Dave Fleischer began a remarkable two-year project in 1937 that would result in one of the finest full-length animated movies ever made, Gulliver’s Travels. Even by today’s standards (or perhaps that should be, especially by today’s standards) the magnitude of the project is almost overwhelming: about 600 artists and technicians employed for over two years who used twelve tons of paint and 39,000 pencils to produce some 115,000 composite scenes.

Gulliver’s Travels was an immediate success upon its 1939 release, receiving two Oscar nominations, and it remained a presence in theaters and television well into the 1950s. However, by the 1990s, the film did not seem to exist in decent condition anywhere and more than one generation of children missed experiencing it. Thankfully, the Fleisher family allowed its own 35mm source print to be used in the production of the remarkable new DVD just released by Koch Entertainment.

The new version of Max Fleischer’s Gulliver’s Travels is so crisp, and its colors so vivid, that it could have been made yesterday rather than seventy years ago. The original soundtrack has been restored even to the point that two new options, Dolby Digital and 5.1, are available. The only clue that this is a seventy-year-old movie comes from the look of the animation itself, a pre-computer style that makes the artistic achievement of the movie even more obvious than it probably was upon its 1939 release.

The seventy-seven minute film covers only that portion of Swift’s story in which Gulliver is shipwrecked and comes to shore in the kingdom of Lilliput, a land in which he is a giant among Lilliput’s little men and women. Gulliver arrives just in time to help the Lilliputians avoid all-out war with a neighboring kingdom and he becomes a much-admired hero, on both sides, for his efforts.

I watched Gulliver’s Travels with my seven-year-old grandson and found that he enjoyed the movie as much as he enjoys his more modern cartoon favorites. He particularly liked the scenes in which the night-guard first discovers the giant and struggles to get anyone to pay any attention to his alarm. He also had a few laugh-out-loud moments while the Lilliputian crew works hard to tie down the giant only to have him so easily undo all of their work in a few seconds.

Gulliver’s Travels holds up so well to modern eyes that it is easy to forget that the film was created seven decades ago. I highly recommend this one for book-loving parents looking for a painless way to expose their children or grandchildren to a literary classic.

Rated at: 5.0

Little Dorrit was not well received upon its original publication in monthly segments from 1855-1857 because critics and readers of the time were unhappy with the complicated nature of the story and its dark tone. To this day, it is one of the lesser known Charles Dickens novels, a fate it most definitely does not deserve.

Much of the novel takes place in the Marshalsea prison for debtors, an environment with which Dickens was familiar due to his own family history. William Dorrit, father of “Little Dorrit,” has been confined to the prison for so long when the book opens that he has become known inside its walls as “Father of the Marshalsea.” He has lost all hope of ever being released from the prison and has learned to enjoy the respect that he receives there from prison employees and fellow-prisoners alike. In fact, he has been imprisoned for so long that Little Dorrit, born inside the prison walls, is now a young woman working as a seamstress outside the walls in order to be able to bring her father some of the luxuries not provided to prisoners. She faithfully returns to the prison every evening in order to see that her father is as comfortable as possible.

Into this mix arrives one Arthur Clennam, only recently returned to London from several years in India when he meets Little Dorrit while visiting his mother. Clennam is struck by the selflessness of Amy Dorrit and befriends the family in an attempt to make their lives somewhat easier. But in true Dickens style, Clennam and the Dorrits will find their roles reversed after Clennam is swindled of his fortune and William Dorrit is found to be heir to a large fortune of his own.

But this is only one of the book’s major plotlines. Dickens also spends hundreds of pages introducing a predatory Frenchman and describing how this despicable man is attempting to extort money from Clennam’s mother because he knows some dark secret of hers that she is desperate to keep hidden.

At its heart, Little Dorrit is a love story, one that seems destined for a sad ending because middle-aged Arthur Clennam feels that Little Dorrit can never see him as anything more than a friend and father-figure. She, on the other hand, living in complete poverty, does not feel worthy of Clennam’s attention. Pride proves to be a two-way street, and when Little Dorrit finally admits her love for Clennam, he is broke and refuses her because he does not want to leave the prison at her expense.

Little Dorrit is filled with side-characters who have distinct personalities and stories of their own to tell. It is through them that Dickens so successfully recreates the world of early nineteenth century London as experienced by all class levels of its inhabitants. Admittedly, this is a long book (the Wordsworth Classic edition runs 740 pages but others clock in at over 1,000 pages) but it is well worth the effort. It is always a treat to lose yourself in the world of Charles Dickens and Little Dorrit is no exception.

Rated at: 4.0

Little Dorrit was not well received upon its original publication in monthly segments from 1855-1857 because critics and readers of the time were unhappy with the complicated nature of the story and its dark tone. To this day, it is one of the lesser known Charles Dickens novels, a fate it most definitely does not deserve.

Much of the novel takes place in the Marshalsea prison for debtors, an environment with which Dickens was familiar due to his own family history. William Dorrit, father of “Little Dorrit,” has been confined to the prison for so long when the book opens that he has become known inside its walls as “Father of the Marshalsea.” He has lost all hope of ever being released from the prison and has learned to enjoy the respect that he receives there from prison employees and fellow-prisoners alike. In fact, he has been imprisoned for so long that Little Dorrit, born inside the prison walls, is now a young woman working as a seamstress outside the walls in order to be able to bring her father some of the luxuries not provided to prisoners. She faithfully returns to the prison every evening in order to see that her father is as comfortable as possible.

Into this mix arrives one Arthur Clennam, only recently returned to London from several years in India when he meets Little Dorrit while visiting his mother. Clennam is struck by the selflessness of Amy Dorrit and befriends the family in an attempt to make their lives somewhat easier. But in true Dickens style, Clennam and the Dorrits will find their roles reversed after Clennam is swindled of his fortune and William Dorrit is found to be heir to a large fortune of his own.

But this is only one of the book’s major plotlines. Dickens also spends hundreds of pages introducing a predatory Frenchman and describing how this despicable man is attempting to extort money from Clennam’s mother because he knows some dark secret of hers that she is desperate to keep hidden.

At its heart, Little Dorrit is a love story, one that seems destined for a sad ending because middle-aged Arthur Clennam feels that Little Dorrit can never see him as anything more than a friend and father-figure. She, on the other hand, living in complete poverty, does not feel worthy of Clennam’s attention. Pride proves to be a two-way street, and when Little Dorrit finally admits her love for Clennam, he is broke and refuses her because he does not want to leave the prison at her expense.

Little Dorrit is filled with side-characters who have distinct personalities and stories of their own to tell. It is through them that Dickens so successfully recreates the world of early nineteenth century London as experienced by all class levels of its inhabitants. Admittedly, this is a long book (the Wordsworth Classic edition runs 740 pages but others clock in at over 1,000 pages) but it is well worth the effort. It is always a treat to lose yourself in the world of Charles Dickens and Little Dorrit is no exception.

Rated at: 4.0

>Little Dorrit was not well received upon its original publication in monthly segments from 1855-1857 because critics and readers of the time were unhappy with the complicated nature of the story and its dark tone. To this day, it is one of the lesser known Charles Dickens novels, a fate it most definitely does not deserve.

Much of the novel takes place in the Marshalsea prison for debtors, an environment with which Dickens was familiar due to his own family history. William Dorrit, father of “Little Dorrit,” has been confined to the prison for so long when the book opens that he has become known inside its walls as “Father of the Marshalsea.” He has lost all hope of ever being released from the prison and has learned to enjoy the respect that he receives there from prison employees and fellow-prisoners alike. In fact, he has been imprisoned for so long that Little Dorrit, born inside the prison walls, is now a young woman working as a seamstress outside the walls in order to be able to bring her father some of the luxuries not provided to prisoners. She faithfully returns to the prison every evening in order to see that her father is as comfortable as possible.

Into this mix arrives one Arthur Clennam, only recently returned to London from several years in India when he meets Little Dorrit while visiting his mother. Clennam is struck by the selflessness of Amy Dorrit and befriends the family in an attempt to make their lives somewhat easier. But in true Dickens style, Clennam and the Dorrits will find their roles reversed after Clennam is swindled of his fortune and William Dorrit is found to be heir to a large fortune of his own.

But this is only one of the book’s major plotlines. Dickens also spends hundreds of pages introducing a predatory Frenchman and describing how this despicable man is attempting to extort money from Clennam’s mother because he knows some dark secret of hers that she is desperate to keep hidden.

At its heart, Little Dorrit is a love story, one that seems destined for a sad ending because middle-aged Arthur Clennam feels that Little Dorrit can never see him as anything more than a friend and father-figure. She, on the other hand, living in complete poverty, does not feel worthy of Clennam’s attention. Pride proves to be a two-way street, and when Little Dorrit finally admits her love for Clennam, he is broke and refuses her because he does not want to leave the prison at her expense.

Little Dorrit is filled with side-characters who have distinct personalities and stories of their own to tell. It is through them that Dickens so successfully recreates the world of early nineteenth century London as experienced by all class levels of its inhabitants. Admittedly, this is a long book (the Wordsworth Classic edition runs 740 pages but others clock in at over 1,000 pages) but it is well worth the effort. It is always a treat to lose yourself in the world of Charles Dickens and Little Dorrit is no exception.

Rated at: 4.0

Each time that I read Great Expectations I’m left wondering whether or not Pip would have been happier if he had never been made the gift of “great expectations.” More importantly, would he have been a better man if he had remained apprenticed to his blacksmith brother-in-law Joe rather than having been sent to London to be trained in the ways of a gentleman?

Great Expectations is a Dickens cautionary tale in which the author warns his readers of what can so easily happen to a person when given the opportunity to “better himself” by leaving his home, family and friends behind for education and fortune-seeking in the big city. As soon as word reached the local townspeople around whom Pip had spent his early years that a fortune was soon to be his, Pip found himself treated with respect and awe by the very people who had had little time for him in the past other than to chastise his behavior and relationship with the sister who was raising him “by hand.” Their “boy” became “sir” overnight it seemed.

But sadly, after arriving in London and seeking to impress his new friends and colleagues, Pip decided that those who loved him most were an embarrassment to his future prospects and he only occasionally felt any guilt about his lack of contact with them. It is only when Pip’s future prospects shockingly take a turn for the worse that he seeks the comfort of the family that he left behind.

Along the way, Dickens fills Great Expectations with some of the most memorable characters in British literature history. There are Miss Havisham, the spinster who never recovered from being jilted at the altar; Joe, the blacksmith and Pip’s brother-in-law who never stopped loving Pip as a son no matter how much Pip neglected him over the years; Estella, the beautiful young woman whom Pip has loved since they were small children but who has been raised by Miss Havisham to give her heart to no man; Herbert, Pip’s best London friend, a truly good man who both benefits from Pip’s help and who eventually offers Pip a new future of his own; and, of course, Magwitch, the colorful escaped criminal whom Pip meets in the first pages of the book.

This is one of those books that I read every few years because re-reading it is like visiting an old friend after too long an absence. As the old memories come back, it’s like I’ve never been away.

Rated at: 5.0

Each time that I read Great Expectations I’m left wondering whether or not Pip would have been happier if he had never been made the gift of “great expectations.” More importantly, would he have been a better man if he had remained apprenticed to his blacksmith brother-in-law Joe rather than having been sent to London to be trained in the ways of a gentleman?

Great Expectations is a Dickens cautionary tale in which the author warns his readers of what can so easily happen to a person when given the opportunity to “better himself” by leaving his home, family and friends behind for education and fortune-seeking in the big city. As soon as word reached the local townspeople around whom Pip had spent his early years that a fortune was soon to be his, Pip found himself treated with respect and awe by the very people who had had little time for him in the past other than to chastise his behavior and relationship with the sister who was raising him “by hand.” Their “boy” became “sir” overnight it seemed.

But sadly, after arriving in London and seeking to impress his new friends and colleagues, Pip decided that those who loved him most were an embarrassment to his future prospects and he only occasionally felt any guilt about his lack of contact with them. It is only when Pip’s future prospects shockingly take a turn for the worse that he seeks the comfort of the family that he left behind.

Along the way, Dickens fills Great Expectations with some of the most memorable characters in British literature history. There are Miss Havisham, the spinster who never recovered from being jilted at the altar; Joe, the blacksmith and Pip’s brother-in-law who never stopped loving Pip as a son no matter how much Pip neglected him over the years; Estella, the beautiful young woman whom Pip has loved since they were small children but who has been raised by Miss Havisham to give her heart to no man; Herbert, Pip’s best London friend, a truly good man who both benefits from Pip’s help and who eventually offers Pip a new future of his own; and, of course, Magwitch, the colorful escaped criminal whom Pip meets in the first pages of the book.

This is one of those books that I read every few years because re-reading it is like visiting an old friend after too long an absence. As the old memories come back, it’s like I’ve never been away.

Rated at: 5.0

>Each time that I read Great Expectations I’m left wondering whether or not Pip would have been happier if he had never been made the gift of “great expectations.” More importantly, would he have been a better man if he had remained apprenticed to his blacksmith brother-in-law Joe rather than having been sent to London to be trained in the ways of a gentleman?

Great Expectations is a Dickens cautionary tale in which the author warns his readers of what can so easily happen to a person when given the opportunity to “better himself” by leaving his home, family and friends behind for education and fortune-seeking in the big city. As soon as word reached the local townspeople around whom Pip had spent his early years that a fortune was soon to be his, Pip found himself treated with respect and awe by the very people who had had little time for him in the past other than to chastise his behavior and relationship with the sister who was raising him “by hand.” Their “boy” became “sir” overnight it seemed.

But sadly, after arriving in London and seeking to impress his new friends and colleagues, Pip decided that those who loved him most were an embarrassment to his future prospects and he only occasionally felt any guilt about his lack of contact with them. It is only when Pip’s future prospects shockingly take a turn for the worse that he seeks the comfort of the family that he left behind.

Along the way, Dickens fills Great Expectations with some of the most memorable characters in British literature history. There are Miss Havisham, the spinster who never recovered from being jilted at the altar; Joe, the blacksmith and Pip’s brother-in-law who never stopped loving Pip as a son no matter how much Pip neglected him over the years; Estella, the beautiful young woman whom Pip has loved since they were small children but who has been raised by Miss Havisham to give her heart to no man; Herbert, Pip’s best London friend, a truly good man who both benefits from Pip’s help and who eventually offers Pip a new future of his own; and, of course, Magwitch, the colorful escaped criminal whom Pip meets in the first pages of the book.

This is one of those books that I read every few years because re-reading it is like visiting an old friend after too long an absence. As the old memories come back, it’s like I’ve never been away.

Rated at: 5.0

Under Construction

From the “You Gotta Love It” file, comes news that a Charles Dickens theme park is set to open soon in the dockyards of Chatham, England, a site that at one time employed Dickens’ father. I’ve got just enough of the kid left in me to be excited about something like this, especially since I was first blindsided by Dickens novels at about 12-years of age and still sometimes see his work through the eyes of a boy.

Never mind that the books tackle child exploitation, poverty, murder and domestic violence; the indoor attraction is based on designs by the creator of Santa World in Sweden so the emphasis is firmly on fun, fun, fun.

Dickens World feels like Disney gone to the dark side. In place of the Magic Kingdom there is Newgate Prison; instead of talking animals there will be shady characters loitering in dark corners. Although the attractions are all faithfully Dickensian, the larks are very much 21st century.

…

The whole project cost £62m and hopes to present Dickens to coaches of schoolchildren without having to call in the Muppets for backup. But it isn’t just an expensive gesture to introduce The Mystery of Edwin Drood to a pre-teen audience. Dickens World has been nearly 40 years in the making. Originally slated to open in London’s King’s Cross, before being forced out by rising property prices, it is now based in the historic dockyards of Chatham…Capitalising on the author’s ever-increasing popularity, the organisers are expecting 300,000 visitors a year.

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The plan is to artfully side-step the more gruesome aspects of Dickens’ work while still remaining faithful to the Victorian period – so no need to worry about rats and poor sanitation in the restaurant. “I would hope that what we are doing is as much about history as Dickens storylines,” says Christie, who has been working on the project since 2000. “Visitors are not going to come here to be depressed so our role is to entertain them. We’re not going to have starving babies crawling around on the cobblestones. If you’re coming from Japan or America what you’re probably going to want to see is a realisation of what you think London might be like, but is no longer.”

I realize that the theme park is trying to walk a very fine line between educating its young visitors to the joys of Dickens and turning Dickens into the U.K. version of Mickey Mouse, but I’m betting that those in charge will manage to pull this off. Of course, not everyone is so sure. This article represents the view of someone willing to bet that this is going to be one hugely expensive mistake.

Under Construction

From the “You Gotta Love It” file, comes news that a Charles Dickens theme park is set to open soon in the dockyards of Chatham, England, a site that at one time employed Dickens’ father. I’ve got just enough of the kid left in me to be excited about something like this, especially since I was first blindsided by Dickens novels at about 12-years of age and still sometimes see his work through the eyes of a boy.

Never mind that the books tackle child exploitation, poverty, murder and domestic violence; the indoor attraction is based on designs by the creator of Santa World in Sweden so the emphasis is firmly on fun, fun, fun.

Dickens World feels like Disney gone to the dark side. In place of the Magic Kingdom there is Newgate Prison; instead of talking animals there will be shady characters loitering in dark corners. Although the attractions are all faithfully Dickensian, the larks are very much 21st century.

…

The whole project cost £62m and hopes to present Dickens to coaches of schoolchildren without having to call in the Muppets for backup. But it isn’t just an expensive gesture to introduce The Mystery of Edwin Drood to a pre-teen audience. Dickens World has been nearly 40 years in the making. Originally slated to open in London’s King’s Cross, before being forced out by rising property prices, it is now based in the historic dockyards of Chatham…Capitalising on the author’s ever-increasing popularity, the organisers are expecting 300,000 visitors a year.

…

The plan is to artfully side-step the more gruesome aspects of Dickens’ work while still remaining faithful to the Victorian period – so no need to worry about rats and poor sanitation in the restaurant. “I would hope that what we are doing is as much about history as Dickens storylines,” says Christie, who has been working on the project since 2000. “Visitors are not going to come here to be depressed so our role is to entertain them. We’re not going to have starving babies crawling around on the cobblestones. If you’re coming from Japan or America what you’re probably going to want to see is a realisation of what you think London might be like, but is no longer.”

I realize that the theme park is trying to walk a very fine line between educating its young visitors to the joys of Dickens and turning Dickens into the U.K. version of Mickey Mouse, but I’m betting that those in charge will manage to pull this off. Of course, not everyone is so sure. This article represents the view of someone willing to bet that this is going to be one hugely expensive mistake.

>

Under Construction

From the “You Gotta Love It” file, comes news that a Charles Dickens theme park is set to open soon in the dockyards of Chatham, England, a site that at one time employed Dickens’ father. I’ve got just enough of the kid left in me to be excited about something like this, especially since I was first blindsided by Dickens novels at about 12-years of age and still sometimes see his work through the eyes of a boy.

Never mind that the books tackle child exploitation, poverty, murder and domestic violence; the indoor attraction is based on designs by the creator of Santa World in Sweden so the emphasis is firmly on fun, fun, fun.

Dickens World feels like Disney gone to the dark side. In place of the Magic Kingdom there is Newgate Prison; instead of talking animals there will be shady characters loitering in dark corners. Although the attractions are all faithfully Dickensian, the larks are very much 21st century.

…

The whole project cost £62m and hopes to present Dickens to coaches of schoolchildren without having to call in the Muppets for backup. But it isn’t just an expensive gesture to introduce The Mystery of Edwin Drood to a pre-teen audience. Dickens World has been nearly 40 years in the making. Originally slated to open in London’s King’s Cross, before being forced out by rising property prices, it is now based in the historic dockyards of Chatham…Capitalising on the author’s ever-increasing popularity, the organisers are expecting 300,000 visitors a year.

…

The plan is to artfully side-step the more gruesome aspects of Dickens’ work while still remaining faithful to the Victorian period – so no need to worry about rats and poor sanitation in the restaurant. “I would hope that what we are doing is as much about history as Dickens storylines,” says Christie, who has been working on the project since 2000. “Visitors are not going to come here to be depressed so our role is to entertain them. We’re not going to have starving babies crawling around on the cobblestones. If you’re coming from Japan or America what you’re probably going to want to see is a realisation of what you think London might be like, but is no longer.”

I realize that the theme park is trying to walk a very fine line between educating its young visitors to the joys of Dickens and turning Dickens into the U.K. version of Mickey Mouse, but I’m betting that those in charge will manage to pull this off. Of course, not everyone is so sure. This article represents the view of someone willing to bet that this is going to be one hugely expensive mistake.

My wife and I first visited the U.K. in 1983 and somewhere along the way I vaguely remember going into a very small Beatrix Potter storefront museum. I remember being somewhat disturbed by all the exhibits of little stuffed animals (lots of kittens included, as I recall) dressed in little suits of clothes that were posed doing all the things that human children enjoy doing. Now, keep in mind that we spent maybe 45 minutes there, and it was almost 25 years ago, so I can’t vouch for the complete accuracy of what I think I saw but I remember something being said to the effect that Potter herself had somehow been involved in preparing the various scenes on display. We left with a completely different impression of Beatrix Potter, the woman, than the one that we walked in with, an impression that I doubt that the museum people intended to create for us.

That’s why I’m looking forward to Renee Zellweger’s new movie, Miss Potter, what is supposed to be a charming movie on the life and times of Beatrix Potter.

“Miss Potter” is an intelligent, gently told biopic, created in a straightforward, simple way. There are no special bells and whistles except for some lovely computer-generated effects when Beatrix Potter’s imagination is shared with us in quite an unexpected and engaging way.

On a number of occasions throughout the film, her original sketches come to life and turn into hippity-hoppity animated drawings that jump off the page. Not only did those moments delight me, but they seemed to startle and truly tickle the sensibility of Renee Zellweger – the main reason this film works as well as it does.

…

The film also reveals what an advocate for the environment Beatrix Potter became, after the wealth she acquired from her children’s books allowed her to buy great expanses of property in the Lake District in the north of England. Along with those classic fables, her gift of thousands of acres of land to England’s National Trust lives on.

Noonan has given us a terrific movie about a woman who lived a good life, overcame the rigidity of her social class and came to understand who she was and what she needed to accomplish during her time on Earth.

I need to see this movie, I think, to cleanse my somewhat less than complimentary impression of who Beatrix Potter was and to replace that impression with one that is, I hope, more accurate. It’s amazing how long the images in that little museum have stayed with me.

My wife and I first visited the U.K. in 1983 and somewhere along the way I vaguely remember going into a very small Beatrix Potter storefront museum. I remember being somewhat disturbed by all the exhibits of little stuffed animals (lots of kittens included, as I recall) dressed in little suits of clothes that were posed doing all the things that human children enjoy doing. Now, keep in mind that we spent maybe 45 minutes there, and it was almost 25 years ago, so I can’t vouch for the complete accuracy of what I think I saw but I remember something being said to the effect that Potter herself had somehow been involved in preparing the various scenes on display. We left with a completely different impression of Beatrix Potter, the woman, than the one that we walked in with, an impression that I doubt that the museum people intended to create for us.

That’s why I’m looking forward to Renee Zellweger’s new movie, Miss Potter, what is supposed to be a charming movie on the life and times of Beatrix Potter.

“Miss Potter” is an intelligent, gently told biopic, created in a straightforward, simple way. There are no special bells and whistles except for some lovely computer-generated effects when Beatrix Potter’s imagination is shared with us in quite an unexpected and engaging way.

On a number of occasions throughout the film, her original sketches come to life and turn into hippity-hoppity animated drawings that jump off the page. Not only did those moments delight me, but they seemed to startle and truly tickle the sensibility of Renee Zellweger – the main reason this film works as well as it does.

…

The film also reveals what an advocate for the environment Beatrix Potter became, after the wealth she acquired from her children’s books allowed her to buy great expanses of property in the Lake District in the north of England. Along with those classic fables, her gift of thousands of acres of land to England’s National Trust lives on.

Noonan has given us a terrific movie about a woman who lived a good life, overcame the rigidity of her social class and came to understand who she was and what she needed to accomplish during her time on Earth.

I need to see this movie, I think, to cleanse my somewhat less than complimentary impression of who Beatrix Potter was and to replace that impression with one that is, I hope, more accurate. It’s amazing how long the images in that little museum have stayed with me.

>My wife and I first visited the U.K. in 1983 and somewhere along the way I vaguely remember going into a very small Beatrix Potter storefront museum. I remember being somewhat disturbed by all the exhibits of little stuffed animals (lots of kittens included, as I recall) dressed in little suits of clothes that were posed doing all the things that human children enjoy doing. Now, keep in mind that we spent maybe 45 minutes there, and it was almost 25 years ago, so I can’t vouch for the complete accuracy of what I think I saw but I remember something being said to the effect that Potter herself had somehow been involved in preparing the various scenes on display. We left with a completely different impression of Beatrix Potter, the woman, than the one that we walked in with, an impression that I doubt that the museum people intended to create for us.

That’s why I’m looking forward to Renee Zellweger’s new movie, Miss Potter, what is supposed to be a charming movie on the life and times of Beatrix Potter.

“Miss Potter” is an intelligent, gently told biopic, created in a straightforward, simple way. There are no special bells and whistles except for some lovely computer-generated effects when Beatrix Potter’s imagination is shared with us in quite an unexpected and engaging way.

On a number of occasions throughout the film, her original sketches come to life and turn into hippity-hoppity animated drawings that jump off the page. Not only did those moments delight me, but they seemed to startle and truly tickle the sensibility of Renee Zellweger – the main reason this film works as well as it does.

…

The film also reveals what an advocate for the environment Beatrix Potter became, after the wealth she acquired from her children’s books allowed her to buy great expanses of property in the Lake District in the north of England. Along with those classic fables, her gift of thousands of acres of land to England’s National Trust lives on.

Noonan has given us a terrific movie about a woman who lived a good life, overcame the rigidity of her social class and came to understand who she was and what she needed to accomplish during her time on Earth.

I need to see this movie, I think, to cleanse my somewhat less than complimentary impression of who Beatrix Potter was and to replace that impression with one that is, I hope, more accurate. It’s amazing how long the images in that little museum have stayed with me.

According to the TimesOnline, the next volume of Austen’s work published by Wordsworth Editions will feature the “new” Jane Austen on the cover.

According to Wordsworth Editions, which sells millions of cut-price classic novels, the only authentic portrait of Jane Austen is too unattractive.

Helen Trayler, its managing director, said: “The poor old thing didn’t have anything going for her in the way of looks. Her original portrait is very, very dowdy. It wouldn’t be appealing to readers, so I took it upon myself to commission a new picture of her.

“We’ve given her a bit of a makeover, with make-up and some hair extensions and removed her nightcap. Now she looks great — as if she’s just walked out of a salon.”

Some will see this as a positive thing and some will recognize the hidden message in the decision to market an icon like Jane Austen on her looks rather than on the content of her books.

Patrick Stokes, of the Jane Austen Society, said: “She’s not a goddess. She has no copyright. It’s just what happens when someone is so popular, and if it brings her to a different readership then that’s good news.”

Patrick Janson-Smith, a leading literary agent, said: “Portraits of modern authors are airbrushed the whole time, especially American lady authors of a certain age. It’s a shock to meet a writer when the reality falls a little short. We live in a shallow world where authors are increasingly sold on their appearance.”

I find this bit of silliness to be disturbing because it reminds me of how today’s culture has managed to make stars out of people like Anna Nicole Smith, Britney Spears, Jessica Simpson, etc. more based on their looks than on their very limited talent. The entertainment industry dumbed itself down long ago but thankfully I’ve developed an ability to tune out the noise. Do we really need to sell classic literature based on the looks of the authors now? Good grief.

According to the TimesOnline, the next volume of Austen’s work published by Wordsworth Editions will feature the “new” Jane Austen on the cover.

According to Wordsworth Editions, which sells millions of cut-price classic novels, the only authentic portrait of Jane Austen is too unattractive.

Helen Trayler, its managing director, said: “The poor old thing didn’t have anything going for her in the way of looks. Her original portrait is very, very dowdy. It wouldn’t be appealing to readers, so I took it upon myself to commission a new picture of her.

“We’ve given her a bit of a makeover, with make-up and some hair extensions and removed her nightcap. Now she looks great — as if she’s just walked out of a salon.”

Some will see this as a positive thing and some will recognize the hidden message in the decision to market an icon like Jane Austen on her looks rather than on the content of her books.

Patrick Stokes, of the Jane Austen Society, said: “She’s not a goddess. She has no copyright. It’s just what happens when someone is so popular, and if it brings her to a different readership then that’s good news.”

Patrick Janson-Smith, a leading literary agent, said: “Portraits of modern authors are airbrushed the whole time, especially American lady authors of a certain age. It’s a shock to meet a writer when the reality falls a little short. We live in a shallow world where authors are increasingly sold on their appearance.”

I find this bit of silliness to be disturbing because it reminds me of how today’s culture has managed to make stars out of people like Anna Nicole Smith, Britney Spears, Jessica Simpson, etc. more based on their looks than on their very limited talent. The entertainment industry dumbed itself down long ago but thankfully I’ve developed an ability to tune out the noise. Do we really need to sell classic literature based on the looks of the authors now? Good grief.

>
According to the TimesOnline, the next volume of Austen’s work published by Wordsworth Editions will feature the “new” Jane Austen on the cover.

According to Wordsworth Editions, which sells millions of cut-price classic novels, the only authentic portrait of Jane Austen is too unattractive.

Helen Trayler, its managing director, said: “The poor old thing didn’t have anything going for her in the way of looks. Her original portrait is very, very dowdy. It wouldn’t be appealing to readers, so I took it upon myself to commission a new picture of her.

“We’ve given her a bit of a makeover, with make-up and some hair extensions and removed her nightcap. Now she looks great — as if she’s just walked out of a salon.”

Some will see this as a positive thing and some will recognize the hidden message in the decision to market an icon like Jane Austen on her looks rather than on the content of her books.

Patrick Stokes, of the Jane Austen Society, said: “She’s not a goddess. She has no copyright. It’s just what happens when someone is so popular, and if it brings her to a different readership then that’s good news.”

Patrick Janson-Smith, a leading literary agent, said: “Portraits of modern authors are airbrushed the whole time, especially American lady authors of a certain age. It’s a shock to meet a writer when the reality falls a little short. We live in a shallow world where authors are increasingly sold on their appearance.”

I find this bit of silliness to be disturbing because it reminds me of how today’s culture has managed to make stars out of people like Anna Nicole Smith, Britney Spears, Jessica Simpson, etc. more based on their looks than on their very limited talent. The entertainment industry dumbed itself down long ago but thankfully I’ve developed an ability to tune out the noise. Do we really need to sell classic literature based on the looks of the authors now? Good grief.

I know this isn’t a new video, but I just found it today and was intrigued by it. I guess the big surprise is that someone actually thought to take Jonathan Swift’s “A Modest Proposal,” the satirical 1729 essay in which he suggested a way to ease the burden of Ireland’s poor, and turn it into a hip hop video. All they had to do, according to Swift was to make their babies into a food source, not a burden.

”I have been assured by a very knowing American of my acquaintance in London, that a young healthy child well nursed is at a year old a most delicious, nourishing, and wholesome food, whether stewed, roasted, baked, or boiled …”

Fair warning: Here is a modern version of the same message and some may find it as offensive as those who read the original in 1729.

See what happens when I have extra time on my hands?

I know this isn’t a new video, but I just found it today and was intrigued by it. I guess the big surprise is that someone actually thought to take Jonathan Swift’s “A Modest Proposal,” the satirical 1729 essay in which he suggested a way to ease the burden of Ireland’s poor, and turn it into a hip hop video. All they had to do, according to Swift was to make their babies into a food source, not a burden.

”I have been assured by a very knowing American of my acquaintance in London, that a young healthy child well nursed is at a year old a most delicious, nourishing, and wholesome food, whether stewed, roasted, baked, or boiled …”

Fair warning: Here is a modern version of the same message and some may find it as offensive as those who read the original in 1729.

See what happens when I have extra time on my hands?

>I know this isn’t a new video, but I just found it today and was intrigued by it. I guess the big surprise is that someone actually thought to take Jonathan Swift’s “A Modest Proposal,” the satirical 1729 essay in which he suggested a way to ease the burden of Ireland’s poor, and turn it into a hip hop video. All they had to do, according to Swift was to make their babies into a food source, not a burden.

”I have been assured by a very knowing American of my acquaintance in London, that a young healthy child well nursed is at a year old a most delicious, nourishing, and wholesome food, whether stewed, roasted, baked, or boiled …”

Fair warning: Here is a modern version of the same message and some may find it as offensive as those who read the original in 1729.

See what happens when I have extra time on my hands?

This Christian Science Monitor article reassured me that I was not the only one out there who is afraid to lie about having read any particular book. I’ve seen so many articles lately about which books are most likely to be claimed as read by people who never bothered to crack the covers (Ulysses generally tops the list) that I was starting to think I was the abnormal one, not them. Personally, I wouldn’t dare lie to anyone about having read some book because, with my luck, I would choose the one person in the room who particularly loved it and wanted to get into a detailed discussion. I have enough trouble remembering the details about the ones I do read that I don’t think I could fake a discussion about one I haven’t even held in my hands.

That’s why I can’t even imagine having this kind of nerve:

I had a friend who joined a London book club. He found the day of reckoning – when the members were to sit in a circle and discuss the latest book’s merits – always arrived much sooner than he expected. His wife, also a member, would actually read the book. All he would do was rush through the blurb on the flap at the last minute. What flabbergasted his diligent spouse was that he would then expound the virtues and failings of the book with such authority that he always got away with it.

If you aren’t a true bookworm, self-confidence is everything.

I wonder, too, how many of us experienced the kind of “university reading burnout” described here, as a result of which we, at least for a time, lost our ability to read for simple pleasure rather than for test scores and status among our peers.

Attending university put an end to this. Not that I stopped reading books from start to finish, but the reasons for doing so had altered. The pressure was on. Not only were we expected to read “The Mill on the Floss,” “Middlemarch,” and quite possibly “Adam Bede” in a week, but then we had to write a long essay about George Eliot’s sense of tragedy (or some such thing), ready for the weekly tutorial. Agony! – particularly on summer days when all I wanted to do was float on the River Cam in a punt.

Then there was that other compulsion to read – the fact that fellow students all knew E.M. Forster or D.H. Lawrence backward, and if you didn’t, you would seem next to useless socially.

Under such duress, the pure pleasure of reading largely went out the window.

As much as I love the classics, I couldn’t force myself to read one for simple pleasure for several years after I left school. And it’s only now that I’ve reread them for the right reasons that I truly appreciate all the ones I was forced to almost speed-read while at school.

This Christian Science Monitor article reassured me that I was not the only one out there who is afraid to lie about having read any particular book. I’ve seen so many articles lately about which books are most likely to be claimed as read by people who never bothered to crack the covers (Ulysses generally tops the list) that I was starting to think I was the abnormal one, not them. Personally, I wouldn’t dare lie to anyone about having read some book because, with my luck, I would choose the one person in the room who particularly loved it and wanted to get into a detailed discussion. I have enough trouble remembering the details about the ones I do read that I don’t think I could fake a discussion about one I haven’t even held in my hands.

That’s why I can’t even imagine having this kind of nerve:

I had a friend who joined a London book club. He found the day of reckoning – when the members were to sit in a circle and discuss the latest book’s merits – always arrived much sooner than he expected. His wife, also a member, would actually read the book. All he would do was rush through the blurb on the flap at the last minute. What flabbergasted his diligent spouse was that he would then expound the virtues and failings of the book with such authority that he always got away with it.

If you aren’t a true bookworm, self-confidence is everything.

I wonder, too, how many of us experienced the kind of “university reading burnout” described here, as a result of which we, at least for a time, lost our ability to read for simple pleasure rather than for test scores and status among our peers.

Attending university put an end to this. Not that I stopped reading books from start to finish, but the reasons for doing so had altered. The pressure was on. Not only were we expected to read “The Mill on the Floss,” “Middlemarch,” and quite possibly “Adam Bede” in a week, but then we had to write a long essay about George Eliot’s sense of tragedy (or some such thing), ready for the weekly tutorial. Agony! – particularly on summer days when all I wanted to do was float on the River Cam in a punt.

Then there was that other compulsion to read – the fact that fellow students all knew E.M. Forster or D.H. Lawrence backward, and if you didn’t, you would seem next to useless socially.

Under such duress, the pure pleasure of reading largely went out the window.

As much as I love the classics, I couldn’t force myself to read one for simple pleasure for several years after I left school. And it’s only now that I’ve reread them for the right reasons that I truly appreciate all the ones I was forced to almost speed-read while at school.

>
This Christian Science Monitor article reassured me that I was not the only one out there who is afraid to lie about having read any particular book. I’ve seen so many articles lately about which books are most likely to be claimed as read by people who never bothered to crack the covers (Ulysses generally tops the list) that I was starting to think I was the abnormal one, not them. Personally, I wouldn’t dare lie to anyone about having read some book because, with my luck, I would choose the one person in the room who particularly loved it and wanted to get into a detailed discussion. I have enough trouble remembering the details about the ones I do read that I don’t think I could fake a discussion about one I haven’t even held in my hands.

That’s why I can’t even imagine having this kind of nerve:

I had a friend who joined a London book club. He found the day of reckoning – when the members were to sit in a circle and discuss the latest book’s merits – always arrived much sooner than he expected. His wife, also a member, would actually read the book. All he would do was rush through the blurb on the flap at the last minute. What flabbergasted his diligent spouse was that he would then expound the virtues and failings of the book with such authority that he always got away with it.

If you aren’t a true bookworm, self-confidence is everything.

I wonder, too, how many of us experienced the kind of “university reading burnout” described here, as a result of which we, at least for a time, lost our ability to read for simple pleasure rather than for test scores and status among our peers.

Attending university put an end to this. Not that I stopped reading books from start to finish, but the reasons for doing so had altered. The pressure was on. Not only were we expected to read “The Mill on the Floss,” “Middlemarch,” and quite possibly “Adam Bede” in a week, but then we had to write a long essay about George Eliot’s sense of tragedy (or some such thing), ready for the weekly tutorial. Agony! – particularly on summer days when all I wanted to do was float on the River Cam in a punt.

Then there was that other compulsion to read – the fact that fellow students all knew E.M. Forster or D.H. Lawrence backward, and if you didn’t, you would seem next to useless socially.

Under such duress, the pure pleasure of reading largely went out the window.

As much as I love the classics, I couldn’t force myself to read one for simple pleasure for several years after I left school. And it’s only now that I’ve reread them for the right reasons that I truly appreciate all the ones I was forced to almost speed-read while at school.

Some of you will recall a post that I made last month regarding the two 1885 Dickens volumes that I picked up via a couple of eBay auctions. I was excited about getting my hands on two of the ten volumes that were being auctioned on eBay in February and posted some pictures of the two books and an inscription that the original owner placed in one of the books during the 1886 Christmas season.

As it turns out there were some 15 volumes in this set, and a very generous lady from California has taken the time and trouble to box up the whole set and send it to me here in Houston.

This is an example of the type of illustrations that each book contains:

And this picture is an example of the front covers of the various books (they are all the same):

One of the books even included a small set of instructions on how one should properly open a book in order to best preserve its binding:

This last shot shows an 1875 volume of Dombey and Son that was included in one of the boxes of books. It is one volume of the Globe Edition of Dickens’ Works.

I’m in the process of finding these 16 books a proper home on my library shelves and plan to give them a prominent spot because of the great respect that their age and content demand. I’m also happy to report, that unlike quite a few books of this age, the print is large enough that I will actually be able to read the books rather than only to display them. My sincere thanks go to the previous owner of the books who so generously passed them on to me.

Some of you will recall a post that I made last month regarding the two 1885 Dickens volumes that I picked up via a couple of eBay auctions. I was excited about getting my hands on two of the ten volumes that were being auctioned on eBay in February and posted some pictures of the two books and an inscription that the original owner placed in one of the books during the 1886 Christmas season.

As it turns out there were some 15 volumes in this set, and a very generous lady from California has taken the time and trouble to box up the whole set and send it to me here in Houston.

This is an example of the type of illustrations that each book contains:

And this picture is an example of the front covers of the various books (they are all the same):

One of the books even included a small set of instructions on how one should properly open a book in order to best preserve its binding:

This last shot shows an 1875 volume of Dombey and Son that was included in one of the boxes of books. It is one volume of the Globe Edition of Dickens’ Works.

I’m in the process of finding these 16 books a proper home on my library shelves and plan to give them a prominent spot because of the great respect that their age and content demand. I’m also happy to report, that unlike quite a few books of this age, the print is large enough that I will actually be able to read the books rather than only to display them. My sincere thanks go to the previous owner of the books who so generously passed them on to me.

>Some of you will recall a post that I made last month regarding the two 1885 Dickens volumes that I picked up via a couple of eBay auctions. I was excited about getting my hands on two of the ten volumes that were being auctioned on eBay in February and posted some pictures of the two books and an inscription that the original owner placed in one of the books during the 1886 Christmas season.

As it turns out there were some 15 volumes in this set, and a very generous lady from California has taken the time and trouble to box up the whole set and send it to me here in Houston.

This is an example of the type of illustrations that each book contains:

And this picture is an example of the front covers of the various books (they are all the same):

One of the books even included a small set of instructions on how one should properly open a book in order to best preserve its binding:

This last shot shows an 1875 volume of Dombey and Son that was included in one of the boxes of books. It is one volume of the Globe Edition of Dickens’ Works.

I’m in the process of finding these 16 books a proper home on my library shelves and plan to give them a prominent spot because of the great respect that their age and content demand. I’m also happy to report, that unlike quite a few books of this age, the print is large enough that I will actually be able to read the books rather than only to display them. My sincere thanks go to the previous owner of the books who so generously passed them on to me.

The Rise of Silas Lapham, published in 1885, is the best known novel of William Dean Howells and was one of the first novels to focus on the American businessman. Howells is remembered for his long, close friendship with Mark Twain and for being one of the fist seven people chosen for membership in the American Academy of Arts and Letters, of which he was elected its first president. Despite the fact that Howells wrote over 100 books in various genres that included poems, novels, travel books, memoirs, plays and literary criticism he is largely out of print today.

The Rise of Silas Lapham is an American novel of manners that delves into what was then the relatively new societal clash between the old rich and the newly rich, each group well aware of their differences. It is set in a period by which time many old fortunes had become somewhat diminished and when the newly rich were often actually wealthier, if far less cultured, than the old rich whose manners and customs they tried so hard to emulate.

Silas Lapham is a self-made millionaire who made his fortune in the paint business. By the beginning of the novel, he has headquartered his business in Boston where he lives with his wife and two marriageable daughters. An act of kindness by Mrs. Lapham toward a stranger in need of medical attention happens to bring the Lapham family into contact with the Corey family, one of Boston’s many old money families. Complications set in when young Tom Corey falls in love with one of the Lapham girls and both families incorrectly assume that his love is for the pretty, younger daughter rather than for the older girl who wins Tom with her wit and personality. Both sisters are shocked when they realize the truth, and the Lapham family is severely strained by the stress placed on the relationship between the daughters.

If this were not enough, Silas Lapham begins to realize about the same time that his business and his personal fortune are suddenly at risk largely because of his own honesty and integrity. Rather than take advantage of less knowledgeable businessmen and possibly saving much of his fortune in the process, he decides on full disclosure of the details regarding his business outlook and watches as his business fails and he becomes bankrupt.

The Rise of Silas Lapham was considered to be a “realistic” novel at the time of its publication, and in comparison to much of American fiction that came before it, that was certainly the case. As Howells himself put it, “Let fiction cease to lie about life; let it portray men and women as they are, actuated by the motives and the passions in the measure we all know.” But according to the William Dean Howells Society, later authors such as Sinclair Lewis “denounced Howell’s fiction and his influence as being too genteel to represent the real America.”

I found that the novel reminds me of the best of Jane Austen’s work and I value it for the clear picture that it gives of American upper class society in the late nineteenth century. It is much more of a “page-turner” than one would imagine on first glance and I highly recommend it.

Rated at: 5.0

The Rise of Silas Lapham, published in 1885, is the best known novel of William Dean Howells and was one of the first novels to focus on the American businessman. Howells is remembered for his long, close friendship with Mark Twain and for being one of the fist seven people chosen for membership in the American Academy of Arts and Letters, of which he was elected its first president. Despite the fact that Howells wrote over 100 books in various genres that included poems, novels, travel books, memoirs, plays and literary criticism he is largely out of print today.

The Rise of Silas Lapham is an American novel of manners that delves into what was then the relatively new societal clash between the old rich and the newly rich, each group well aware of their differences. It is set in a period by which time many old fortunes had become somewhat diminished and when the newly rich were often actually wealthier, if far less cultured, than the old rich whose manners and customs they tried so hard to emulate.

Silas Lapham is a self-made millionaire who made his fortune in the paint business. By the beginning of the novel, he has headquartered his business in Boston where he lives with his wife and two marriageable daughters. An act of kindness by Mrs. Lapham toward a stranger in need of medical attention happens to bring the Lapham family into contact with the Corey family, one of Boston’s many old money families. Complications set in when young Tom Corey falls in love with one of the Lapham girls and both families incorrectly assume that his love is for the pretty, younger daughter rather than for the older girl who wins Tom with her wit and personality. Both sisters are shocked when they realize the truth, and the Lapham family is severely strained by the stress placed on the relationship between the daughters.

If this were not enough, Silas Lapham begins to realize about the same time that his business and his personal fortune are suddenly at risk largely because of his own honesty and integrity. Rather than take advantage of less knowledgeable businessmen and possibly saving much of his fortune in the process, he decides on full disclosure of the details regarding his business outlook and watches as his business fails and he becomes bankrupt.

The Rise of Silas Lapham was considered to be a “realistic” novel at the time of its publication, and in comparison to much of American fiction that came before it, that was certainly the case. As Howells himself put it, “Let fiction cease to lie about life; let it portray men and women as they are, actuated by the motives and the passions in the measure we all know.” But according to the William Dean Howells Society, later authors such as Sinclair Lewis “denounced Howell’s fiction and his influence as being too genteel to represent the real America.”

I found that the novel reminds me of the best of Jane Austen’s work and I value it for the clear picture that it gives of American upper class society in the late nineteenth century. It is much more of a “page-turner” than one would imagine on first glance and I highly recommend it.

Rated at: 5.0

>The Rise of Silas Lapham, published in 1885, is the best known novel of William Dean Howells and was one of the first novels to focus on the American businessman. Howells is remembered for his long, close friendship with Mark Twain and for being one of the fist seven people chosen for membership in the American Academy of Arts and Letters, of which he was elected its first president. Despite the fact that Howells wrote over 100 books in various genres that included poems, novels, travel books, memoirs, plays and literary criticism he is largely out of print today.

The Rise of Silas Lapham is an American novel of manners that delves into what was then the relatively new societal clash between the old rich and the newly rich, each group well aware of their differences. It is set in a period by which time many old fortunes had become somewhat diminished and when the newly rich were often actually wealthier, if far less cultured, than the old rich whose manners and customs they tried so hard to emulate.

Silas Lapham is a self-made millionaire who made his fortune in the paint business. By the beginning of the novel, he has headquartered his business in Boston where he lives with his wife and two marriageable daughters. An act of kindness by Mrs. Lapham toward a stranger in need of medical attention happens to bring the Lapham family into contact with the Corey family, one of Boston’s many old money families. Complications set in when young Tom Corey falls in love with one of the Lapham girls and both families incorrectly assume that his love is for the pretty, younger daughter rather than for the older girl who wins Tom with her wit and personality. Both sisters are shocked when they realize the truth, and the Lapham family is severely strained by the stress placed on the relationship between the daughters.

If this were not enough, Silas Lapham begins to realize about the same time that his business and his personal fortune are suddenly at risk largely because of his own honesty and integrity. Rather than take advantage of less knowledgeable businessmen and possibly saving much of his fortune in the process, he decides on full disclosure of the details regarding his business outlook and watches as his business fails and he becomes bankrupt.

The Rise of Silas Lapham was considered to be a “realistic” novel at the time of its publication, and in comparison to much of American fiction that came before it, that was certainly the case. As Howells himself put it, “Let fiction cease to lie about life; let it portray men and women as they are, actuated by the motives and the passions in the measure we all know.” But according to the William Dean Howells Society, later authors such as Sinclair Lewis “denounced Howell’s fiction and his influence as being too genteel to represent the real America.”

I found that the novel reminds me of the best of Jane Austen’s work and I value it for the clear picture that it gives of American upper class society in the late nineteenth century. It is much more of a “page-turner” than one would imagine on first glance and I highly recommend it.

Rated at: 5.0

I can’t help myself. I love buying books and adding them to my personal library, and with eBay and other internet books sources making it all so easy these days I really have to watch myself. Here’s a good example of what happens to me on a regular basis. The other night I spotted ten very attractive Charles Dickens novels that were published in 1885 by Belford, Clarke & Company of New York. The original owner of the books signed and dated each of them when she received them for Christmas 1886.

Now, right up front, I realized that I could not afford all ten of the books since each one of them had a starting bid price of $5.00 plus $5.00 in postage and handling fees. But imagine my surprise and delight when I picked up two of them for bids of only $5.50 and $7.50, respectively. Two of the books were subsequently withdrawn from the eBay auction but two others were still available when I checked last night. At least one of the ten went for something over $20.00 but I didn’t follow them all too closely because I didn’t want to be tempted into bidding for others in the set. I won’t be receiving the books for about another 10 days, but I’m looking forward to getting my hands on them.

The first picture is self-explanatory but this second book is a front view of The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club. I’ve also included a copy of one of the simple inscriptions made by the original owner that Christmas season some 120 years ago. The books appear to be in pretty decent shape so I’m hoping that I’m not disappointed when they arrive.

I can’t help myself. I love buying books and adding them to my personal library, and with eBay and other internet books sources making it all so easy these days I really have to watch myself. Here’s a good example of what happens to me on a regular basis. The other night I spotted ten very attractive Charles Dickens novels that were published in 1885 by Belford, Clarke & Company of New York. The original owner of the books signed and dated each of them when she received them for Christmas 1886.

Now, right up front, I realized that I could not afford all ten of the books since each one of them had a starting bid price of $5.00 plus $5.00 in postage and handling fees. But imagine my surprise and delight when I picked up two of them for bids of only $5.50 and $7.50, respectively. Two of the books were subsequently withdrawn from the eBay auction but two others were still available when I checked last night. At least one of the ten went for something over $20.00 but I didn’t follow them all too closely because I didn’t want to be tempted into bidding for others in the set. I won’t be receiving the books for about another 10 days, but I’m looking forward to getting my hands on them.

The first picture is self-explanatory but this second book is a front view of The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club. I’ve also included a copy of one of the simple inscriptions made by the original owner that Christmas season some 120 years ago. The books appear to be in pretty decent shape so I’m hoping that I’m not disappointed when they arrive.

>I can’t help myself. I love buying books and adding them to my personal library, and with eBay and other internet books sources making it all so easy these days I really have to watch myself. Here’s a good example of what happens to me on a regular basis. The other night I spotted ten very attractive Charles Dickens novels that were published in 1885 by Belford, Clarke & Company of New York. The original owner of the books signed and dated each of them when she received them for Christmas 1886.

Now, right up front, I realized that I could not afford all ten of the books since each one of them had a starting bid price of $5.00 plus $5.00 in postage and handling fees. But imagine my surprise and delight when I picked up two of them for bids of only $5.50 and $7.50, respectively. Two of the books were subsequently withdrawn from the eBay auction but two others were still available when I checked last night. At least one of the ten went for something over $20.00 but I didn’t follow them all too closely because I didn’t want to be tempted into bidding for others in the set. I won’t be receiving the books for about another 10 days, but I’m looking forward to getting my hands on them.

The first picture is self-explanatory but this second book is a front view of The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club. I’ve also included a copy of one of the simple inscriptions made by the original owner that Christmas season some 120 years ago. The books appear to be in pretty decent shape so I’m hoping that I’m not disappointed when they arrive.

When Main Street was published in 1920 it struck a chord with everyday Americans in a way that few books had done up to that time. It sold hundreds of thousands of copies and was soon to be found in small town homes all across the country because so many people were able to identify with Main Street‘s main character, Carol Kennicott. Through the eyes of Carol Kennicott, some readers saw their own “main streets” in a way that they had not considered them before. For the first time they noticed just how smugly narrow minded and intolerant were the societies in which they lived. Others, who had already recognized the limitations imposed upon them by their small town leadership, saw Main Street as confirmation that they were not alone in wishing for more from life than what was on offer to them in small town America.

Ultimately, of course, Carol Kennicott resigns herself to living in the small Minnesota community that she once fought so desperately to change. Two years after moving to Washington D.C. with her small son she returns to her husband with a determination to make a good life for her family in Gopher Prairie. She’s found that the reality of making a better life for herself in the big city is no match for the dreams that she had about doing so, and although she no longer loves her husband the way that she once did, she respects him enough to return to her life with him.

I suspect that even the book’s sad ending served as a lesson for small town dreamers everywhere. They realized that their choices were limited to blind acceptance of a narrow minded value system, fighting the system and living unhappily in their small town, or striking out on their own to at least have a chance of finding something better. Future success and happiness, however, were not guaranteed as they were reminded by Carol’s reflections:

“She looked across the silent fields to the west. She was conscious of an unbroken sweep of land to the Rockies, to Alaska; a dominion which will rise to unexampled greatness when other empires have grown senile. Before that time, she knew, a hundred generations of Carols will aspire and go down in tragedy devoid of palls and solemn chanting, the humdrum inevitable tragedy of struggle against inertia…’But I’ve won this: I’ve never excused my failure by sneering at my aspirations, by pretending to have gone beyond them. I do not admit that Main Street is as beautiful as it should be! I do not admit that Gopher Prairie is greater or more generous than Europe! I do not admit that dishwashing is enough to satisfy all women! I may not have fought the good fight, but I have kept the faith.’”

I first read Main Street in 1965 as a high school junior in a small East Texas town of about 12,000 people. I was already dreaming of an escape from that lifestyle and I found a certain amount of comfort and encouragement in discussing what was then a 45-year old book with the school’s new English teacher. I sometimes think back to those days and wonder how different my life might have been if not for that teacher and for writers like Sinclair Lewis.

When Main Street was published in 1920 it struck a chord with everyday Americans in a way that few books had done up to that time. It sold hundreds of thousands of copies and was soon to be found in small town homes all across the country because so many people were able to identify with Main Street‘s main character, Carol Kennicott. Through the eyes of Carol Kennicott, some readers saw their own “main streets” in a way that they had not considered them before. For the first time they noticed just how smugly narrow minded and intolerant were the societies in which they lived. Others, who had already recognized the limitations imposed upon them by their small town leadership, saw Main Street as confirmation that they were not alone in wishing for more from life than what was on offer to them in small town America.

Ultimately, of course, Carol Kennicott resigns herself to living in the small Minnesota community that she once fought so desperately to change. Two years after moving to Washington D.C. with her small son she returns to her husband with a determination to make a good life for her family in Gopher Prairie. She’s found that the reality of making a better life for herself in the big city is no match for the dreams that she had about doing so, and although she no longer loves her husband the way that she once did, she respects him enough to return to her life with him.

I suspect that even the book’s sad ending served as a lesson for small town dreamers everywhere. They realized that their choices were limited to blind acceptance of a narrow minded value system, fighting the system and living unhappily in their small town, or striking out on their own to at least have a chance of finding something better. Future success and happiness, however, were not guaranteed as they were reminded by Carol’s reflections:

“She looked across the silent fields to the west. She was conscious of an unbroken sweep of land to the Rockies, to Alaska; a dominion which will rise to unexampled greatness when other empires have grown senile. Before that time, she knew, a hundred generations of Carols will aspire and go down in tragedy devoid of palls and solemn chanting, the humdrum inevitable tragedy of struggle against inertia…’But I’ve won this: I’ve never excused my failure by sneering at my aspirations, by pretending to have gone beyond them. I do not admit that Main Street is as beautiful as it should be! I do not admit that Gopher Prairie is greater or more generous than Europe! I do not admit that dishwashing is enough to satisfy all women! I may not have fought the good fight, but I have kept the faith.’”

I first read Main Street in 1965 as a high school junior in a small East Texas town of about 12,000 people. I was already dreaming of an escape from that lifestyle and I found a certain amount of comfort and encouragement in discussing what was then a 45-year old book with the school’s new English teacher. I sometimes think back to those days and wonder how different my life might have been if not for that teacher and for writers like Sinclair Lewis.

>When Main Street was published in 1920 it struck a chord with everyday Americans in a way that few books had done up to that time. It sold hundreds of thousands of copies and was soon to be found in small town homes all across the country because so many people were able to identify with Main Street‘s main character, Carol Kennicott. Through the eyes of Carol Kennicott, some readers saw their own “main streets” in a way that they had not considered them before. For the first time they noticed just how smugly narrow minded and intolerant were the societies in which they lived. Others, who had already recognized the limitations imposed upon them by their small town leadership, saw Main Street as confirmation that they were not alone in wishing for more from life than what was on offer to them in small town America.

Ultimately, of course, Carol Kennicott resigns herself to living in the small Minnesota community that she once fought so desperately to change. Two years after moving to Washington D.C. with her small son she returns to her husband with a determination to make a good life for her family in Gopher Prairie. She’s found that the reality of making a better life for herself in the big city is no match for the dreams that she had about doing so, and although she no longer loves her husband the way that she once did, she respects him enough to return to her life with him.

I suspect that even the book’s sad ending served as a lesson for small town dreamers everywhere. They realized that their choices were limited to blind acceptance of a narrow minded value system, fighting the system and living unhappily in their small town, or striking out on their own to at least have a chance of finding something better. Future success and happiness, however, were not guaranteed as they were reminded by Carol’s reflections:

“She looked across the silent fields to the west. She was conscious of an unbroken sweep of land to the Rockies, to Alaska; a dominion which will rise to unexampled greatness when other empires have grown senile. Before that time, she knew, a hundred generations of Carols will aspire and go down in tragedy devoid of palls and solemn chanting, the humdrum inevitable tragedy of struggle against inertia…’But I’ve won this: I’ve never excused my failure by sneering at my aspirations, by pretending to have gone beyond them. I do not admit that Main Street is as beautiful as it should be! I do not admit that Gopher Prairie is greater or more generous than Europe! I do not admit that dishwashing is enough to satisfy all women! I may not have fought the good fight, but I have kept the faith.’”

I first read Main Street in 1965 as a high school junior in a small East Texas town of about 12,000 people. I was already dreaming of an escape from that lifestyle and I found a certain amount of comfort and encouragement in discussing what was then a 45-year old book with the school’s new English teacher. I sometimes think back to those days and wonder how different my life might have been if not for that teacher and for writers like Sinclair Lewis.