19th century literature update

[womzilla]

As you may recall, back in August I solicited opinions on which works of 19th century fiction* I should read to fill the mighty gaps in my puny experience of reading from that century. Among the suggestions, the clear winners were Pride and Prejudice (which I had started as an audiobook back in 2005, but had to abandon because the library CDs were so badly scratched) and Frankenstein, given a particular boost in the standings because of its role as one of the creators of the misfit, shambling, yellow-eyed, sensitive yet raging genre of science fiction. I've managed to read both of those, along with two of Wilde's plays so far. (I really don't read books enough, thanks to the fact that I read so many comics and blogs.)

* (& possibly drama, poetry, and other writings, but mostly fiction)

By a remarkable coincidence, John Kessel has recently written a superb crossover fanfic literary homage to those two novels, the novelette "Pride and Prometheus". It was first published in F&SF, and then reprinted in his third story collection, The Baum Plan for Financial Independence, which you can download in its entirety, no strings attached, in a variety of electronic formats from the publisher, Small Beer Press. Kessel's story has been nominated for both the Nebula and the Hugo for Best Novelette. It's a remarkably good piece of writing; I read it before actually reading either of the works pastiched and was impressed, and then re-read it this month and was floored. Go, read.

On the larger project, I am waffling about which Dickens to read as the next book in the project: several people on my original thread suggested A Tale of Two Cities, which I've long regretted not having read. However, I've had three people spontaneously suggest that I would particularly enjoy Bleak House. I'm probably going to only read one work from any particular author at a time, so I'm somewhat torn. Any opinions from you, my vastly learned readership?

Finally on this topic, p_straub55 suggested that, of the works of Henry James, The Ambassadors had no false notes in it and was remarkably free of the "twittering" of which James is so often rightfully accused, so I suspect that's the one I'll read when I decide it's time to go Jamesing. (Though technically it's not a nineteenth-century novel, really, I'm talking "Long 19th" here.) Maybe after Dickens, or maybe after Tolstoy. (Anna Karenina or War and Peace? Decisions, decisions.)

Comments

[esmeraldus-neo.livejournal.com]

Read The Way of All Flesh by Butler. It's HILARIOUS.

[spuffyduds.livejournal.com]

TWITTERING?!?

Henry James couldn't express a thought in 140 characters if you had a GUN to his head.

[womzilla.livejournal.com]

Response A: But wouldn't it be fun to see him try?

Response B: I think there was another meaning to that word before this year, but I can't remember what it was.

[chilperic.livejournal.com]

Anna Karenina is probably the best place to start Tolstoy. But don't forget the wonderful Anthony Trollope! The Way We Live Now is an implausible tale of an arrogant financier who overextends himself and involves all his friends in dodgy loans, and brings the banks, and his friends, crashing down; couldn't possibly happen, of course (!), but it is fun. But the best one for those who have not tried him is Barchester Towers, theoretically a sequel to the much shorter The Warden, but it can be read on its own. After that, you will of course want to read the other four or five Barchester novels, and then there is Wilkie Collins's The Moonstone.... And ... And.... And.... !

[supergee.livejournal.com]

I can easily imagine a Galaxy story where the Authorities give the people a communications device with a 140-character limit so nothing reasonably complex and thus dangerous can be transmitted, and Sheckley or Dick or whoever gives it a viciously satirical name like Twitter.

[porcinea.livejournal.com]

Trollope!! You must read some Anthony Trollope.

Especially if you enjoyed Jo Walton's dragon books.

[washa-way.livejournal.com]

If I haven't already quoted it to you, and I probably have, Virginia Woolf's take on James is just hilariously devastating:

Henry James fixed me with his staring blank eye--it is like a child's marble--and said “My dear Virginia, they tell me--they tell me--they tell me--that you--as indeed being your father's daughter, nay your grandfather's grandchild--the descendant I may say of a century--of a century-–of quill pens and ink--ink--ink--pots, yes, yes, yes, they tell me–-ahm m m--that you, that you, that you write in short.” This went on in the public street, while we all waited, as farmers wait for the hen to lay the egg--do they?--nervous, polite, and now on this foot now on that. I felt like a condemned person, who sees the knife drop and stick and drop again.

[womzilla.livejournal.com]

One of those "the world is more weirdly complex than you can imagine" moments was discovering, a few years ago, that my mother knows Jo Walton--through online Trollope fandom.

[martin-wisse.livejournal.com]

I'd say go for War and Peace; it's a great story and has the epic feel that you also get from a good space opera.

Trollope is good too; Phineas Finn is quite good.

And of course Thackeray: Vanity Fair.

[washa-way.livejournal.com]

Oh, duh. Did I already push Hardy on you? The Return of the Native is a good'un.

Dickens

[(Anonymous)]

*Bleak House* is a much greater achievement than *A Tale of Two Cities*: it has much more of the "rotten architecture, wonderful gargogyles" George Orwell ascribed to the author, and includes the first detective in British fiction, Mr. Inspector Bucket. (Whether he pronounces it "Bouquet," a la Hyacinth in "Keeping Up Appearances," I can't say. Somehow I doubt it.) You could go from there to to Sgt. Cuff in Wilkie Collins's *Moonstone* quite smoothly.

*A Tale of Two Cities* is the first non-Christmas Dickens I read, so I have a soft spot for it -- but I'd only read it first if I wanted to ease my way into the entire corpus. Since I don't think you plan to take in eveything from *The Pickwick Papers* to *Our Mutual Friend* (if I remember correctly, you've read *The Mystery of Edwin Drood*), I'd go for *Bleak House.*

Henry James is one of those authors you don't enjoy so much as appreciate, and I didn't enjoy or appreciate *The Ambassadors*...although David Lodge's *British Museum Is Falling Down* did give me a few chuckles over what the Newsomes manufactured in Woollett, Mass. Allusions to the novel in Patricia Highsmith's *Talented Mr. Ripley* and Peter Straub's *Koko* have made me glad I read it, but I'd sooner go for what borders it, 1902's *Wings of the Dove* and 1904's *Golden Bowl.* If you want to stay in the chronological 19th Century, I'd recommend *The Portrait of a Lady,* *The Europeans* or *The Bostonians.*

For some, the "19th Century" begins with the defeat of Napoleon in 1815 and ends with the outbreak of World War I in 1914. Do you plan to use that as your guide?

The Anonymous Sparrow is currently reading Clive James's *Brilliant Creatures* and reflecting on how it looks so much easier when Charles Kinbota annotates than Peter C. Bartelski.

[sturgeonslawyer.livejournal.com]

War and Peace. Le Guin says it's the greatest novel ever written, which is a bit hyperbolic, but it is an amazing accomplishment.

[womzilla.livejournal.com]

'William Faulkner, it's said, was once asked to name the three best novels ever. He replied: "Anna Karenina, Anna Karenina, Anna Karenina."' --Boyd Tonkin, The Independent, in a blurb on the current Penguin edition of AK. But I do have the much-hailed new translation of War and Peace. Thus, the dilemma.

It's not easily resolved. If someone asked me what the best Faulkner novel I've read was, I'd be hard-pressed to choose between Absalom, Absalom and The Sound and the Fury, because they are both made of pure, unalloyed Brilliantium, yet are very, very different novels doing very different things. AK and WP are very different novels doing very different things. Thus, hard to decide.

[drcpunk.livejournal.com]

I'd go for Bleak House because it is bleaker, with sharper social satire.

[drcpunk.livejournal.com]

Bear in mind that I found Oliver Twist really good, except for the annoying sentimental bits with this twit named Oliver.