Emma: Reading Notes

I'm starting to remember what I like about Emma as I get into the sections describing Isabella & John's visit to Hartfield with Emma being a kind hostess, keeping the peace between all the difficult personalities. And I'm finding myself relating (in a strange way) to hypochondriac Mr. Wodehouse more and more but also to anti-social John Knightley. This is so how I feel most of the time:

"... there was something honourable and valuable in the strong domestic habits, the all sufficiency of home to himself, whence resulted her brother's disposition to look down on the common rate of social intercourse, and those to whom it was important..." (p.121)

I love this paragraph. You can just feel Jane Austen laughing at the high and mighty Emma who thinks she knows best for everyone:

"I thank you; but I assure you you are quite mistaken. Mr. Elton and I are very good friends, and nothing more;" and she walked on, amusing herself in the consideration of the blunders which often arise from a partial knowledge of circumstances, of the mistakes which people of high pretensions to judgment are for ever falling into; and not very well pleased with her brother for imagining her blind and ignorant, and in want of counsel. He said no more." (p.138)

Emma: Reading Notes

"She had always wanted to do everything, and had made more progress both in drawing and music than many might have done with so little labour as she would ever submit to. She played and sang; -- and drew in almost every style; but steadiness had always been wanting; and in nothing had she approached the degree of excellence which she would have been glad to command, and ought not to have failed of." (p.56)

I so relate to wanting to do everything but not necessarily the work involved in doing everything.

"It is very pretty," said Mr. Woodhouse."So prettily done! Just as your drawings always are, my dear. I do not know any body who draws so well as you do. The only thing I do not thoroughly like is, that she seems to be sitting out of doors, with only a little shawl over her shoulders -- and it makes one think she must catch cold."
"But, my dear papa, it is supposed to be summer; a warm day in summer. Look at the tree."
"But it is never safe to sit out of doors, my dear."(p.61)

Mr. Wodehouse is definitely my favorite character in Emma. That made me laugh.
Chapters 7 & 8 brought out a lot of my Emma bashing. She really is incredibly self-centered and obnoxious. I realize there wouldn't be much of a story if Harriet had just accepted Mr. Martin the first time but it galls me reading how Emma manipulates her and then goes on to stubbornly brag about it to Mr. Knightley. Ick. She is such a bad friend.

"Her views of improving her little friend's mind, by a great deal of useful reading and conversation, had never yet led to more than a few first chapters, and the intention of going on to-morrow. It was much easier to chat than to study; much pleasanter to let her imagination range and work at Harriet's fortune, than to be labouring to enlarge her comprehension or exercise it on sober facts; and the only literary pursuit which engaged Harriet at present, the only mental provision she was making for the evening of life, was the collecting and transcribing all the riddles of every sort that she could meet with, into a thin quarto of hot-pressed paper, made up by her friend, and ornamented with cyphers and trophies." (p.87)

Amen to chatting versus studying! I probably should be more concerned about what mental provisions I'm making for the evening of my own life as well.

"And then their uncle comes in, and tosses them up to the ceiling in a very frightful way!"
"But they like it, papa; there is nothing they like so much. It is such enjoyment to them, that if their uncle did not lay down the rule of their taking turns, which ever began would never give way to the other."
"Well, I cannot understand it."
"That is the case with us all, papa. One half of the world cannot understand the pleasures of the other." (p.101)

Emma: Reading Notes

It's been interesting rereading Emma at such a slow (maybe leisurely would sound better) pace that I feel like I'm noticing things I'd never picked up on before.

Like how big of a jerk Emma is to Harriet! I mean I knew that she was self-centered but I think I just glossed over how amazingly snotty Emma is. You always hear that quote from Jane Austen about thinking no one will like Emma and I see why she was worried. Here is Emma telling Harriet how low Mr. Martin is:

"I should be surprized if, after seeing them, you could be in company with Mr. Martin again without perceiving him to be a very inferior creature--and rather wondering at yourself for having ever thought him at all agreeable before. Do not you begin to feel that now? Were not you struck? I am sure you must have been struck by his awkward look and abrupt manner, and the uncouthness of a voice which I heard to be wholly unmodulated as I stood here." (p.43)

She's certainly not shy! I guess it just goes to Austen's writing ability that I still like Emma in spite of her arrogance. I really was giggling reading Mr. Knightley and Mrs. Weston "arguing" about Emma's new interest in Harriet. I love Mr. Knightley's description of Emma's reading plans. I so relate to making reading plans, and really plans for all kinds of self-improvement, and never following through with them.

"Emma has been meaning to read more ever since she was twelve years old. I have seen a great many lists of her drawing-up at various times of books that she meant to read regularly through--and very good lists they were--very well chosen, and very neatly arranged--sometimes alphabetically, and sometimes by some other rule. The list she drew up when only fourteen--I remember thinking it did her judgment so much credit, that I preserved it some time; and I dare say she may have made out a very good list now. But I have done with expecting any course of steady reading from Emma. She will never submit to any thing requiring industry and patience, and a subjection of the fancy to the understanding. Where Miss Taylor failed to stimulate, I may safely affirm that Harriet Smith will do nothing.-- You never could persuade her to read half so much as you wished.--You know you could not." (p.47)

Emma: Reading Notes

"...she had a husband whose warm heart and sweet temper made him think everything due to her in return for the great goodness of being in love with him..." (p.21)

Even though that description is of an unhappy marriage (Frank Churchill's mother & Mr. Weston) I love that description. If the feeling was mutual it would have been a perfect situation.

"Mr. Wodehouse was fond of society in his own way." (p.26)

I think I'm turning into Mr. Wodehouse in terms of my social habits. I'm not so much a hypochondriac or worried on behalf of other people but I definitely would rather stay at my house, in my pajamas, in my comfortable chair. It takes a lot to make me want to put in some effort especially during the school year.

"and yet she was a happy woman, and a woman whom no one named without goodwill. It was her own universal goodwill and contented temper which worked such wonders." (p.29)

This paragraph describing Miss Bates really struck me. I don't remember reading it before. Miss Bates is always so tragically ridiculous in the movie versions (and I realize she is quite a figure of fun in the book as well) that I forget her good qualities. Obviously she is not so one dimensional as I had her filed away as. The entire paragraph is quite sweet. Maybe I'm not reading it subversively enough but I liked it.

I do love this movie. I need to get in the mood to watch the Romola Garai version at some point.

King Lear, William Shakespeare

I had never read King Lear before and had only a rudimentary knowledge of the plot. And, wow it is really depressing! I used the Alistair McCallum Shakespeare Handbook while reading which was helpful. Edmund, Regan, & Goneril are quite the horrible villains. Even though I knew I was reading a tragedy I still couldn't help but be shocked by the bleak ending, especially for Cordelia. I think part of my shock stemmed from the fact that I really didn't know how this play ended before I read it unlike Romeo & Juliet or MacBeth or Hamlet; plays that I can't remember not knowing the endings to. Now I want to watch Ian McKellen's King Lear.



Chapbook:

I cannot heave my heart into my mouth (I.1.80)

Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich being poor,
Most choice forsaken, and most loved despised,
Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon.
Be it lawful I take up what's cast away.
Gods, gods! 'Tis strange that from their cold'st neglect
My love should kindle to inflamed respect...
Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind;
Thou losest here, a better where to find. (I.1.239-250)

the bond cracked between son and father (I.2.107)

I should have been that I am had the maidenliest star of
the firmament twinkled on my bastardy. (I.2.125)

How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
To have a thankless child. (I.4.283)

Thou shouldst not have been old before thou hadst been wise. (I.5.43)

the child was bound to the father (II.1.47)

my old heart is cracked, is cracked (II.1.89)

I'll so carbonado your shanks (II.2.34)

elf all my hair with knots (II.3.10)

unnatural hags (II.4.255)

Blow wind, and crack your cheeks! Rage, blow,
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drenched the steeples, drowned the cocks! (III.2.1-3)

I am a man more sinned against than sinning. (III.2.60)

that way madness lies (III.4.20)

I had a son...
I loved him, friend;
No father his son dearer (III.4. 156-159)

As flies are to th'wanton boys are we to th'gods:
They kill us for their sport. (IV.1.34)

No more, the text is foolish (IV.2.37)

Thou knowest the first time that we smell the air,
We wail and cry...
When we are born, we cry that we are come
To this great stage of fools (IV.5.169-173)

Come, let's away to prison.
We two alone will sing like birds i' th' cage.
When thou dost ask me blessing, I'll kneel down
And ask of thee forgiveness; so we'll live,
And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh
At gilded butterflies (V.3.8-13)

Paradise Lost: Book One, John Milton

As seems to happen more speedily each year the holidays have arrived. I can't believe there are only 20 days left in 2009 and that means only 20 days left to add to my reading list. When I started this blog last January I was absolutely convinced that I would read many more books than I have at this point. So in the grand tradition of last ditch cramming I am attempting to get the numbers up. Why does it really matter? It doesn't, of course, but I tend to be pretty OCD about these things.

Which brings me to Paradise Lost. Not only have I not read as many books as I anticipated but I also have read a steady diet of Young Adult, fluff, or some combination of Young Adult & Fluff. Paradise Lost is one of those "someday I'll read that just not today" books for me so yesterday in my self-pity shopping trip to Barnes & Noble I took a deep breath and bought a copy.

Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste
Brought death into the world, and all our woe,
With loss of Eden, till one greater Man
Restore us, and regain the blissful seat,
Sing heavenly Muse. (1-6)

What in me is dark,
Illumine; what is low, raise and support!
That to the height of this great argument
I may assert eternal Providence,
And justify the ways of God to men. (22-26)

tears, such as angels weep, burst forth, at last
words interwove with sighs found out their way (620-621)

I was surprised by how much I enjoyed reading the first book. The poetry is beautiful and clear.

I have been using the following sites for more information:

Milton Reading Room

Gustave Dore's Paradise Lost Illustrations

"Lolita deepens our well of compassion and sympathy..."

"Lolita deepens our well of compassion and sympathy, whether we like it or not. The predator is caught, but first Nabokov's novel charms and badgers, irritates and delights us into seeing the world through the eyes of the perp. [A] near-miraculous feat."
-Francine Prose writing in Lapham's Quarterly

Lolita Links

John Derbyshire, "February Fooled the Forsythia"

"I found myself in a new and very strange imaginative space, like none I had ever visited before, and filled with such wonders and delights that if I experienced any disappointment at not having been titillated, that disappointment was swamped by sheer esthetic pleasure, so much so that I retained no memory of it."

Christopher Hitchens, "Hurricane Lolita"

"But there are other ways in which Lolita is, to annex Nabokov's word, "telescopic." Looking back on it, he cited a critic who "suggested that Lolita was the record of my love affair with the romantic novel," and continued, "The substitution 'English language' for 'romantic novel' would make this elegant formula more correct." That's profoundly true, and constitutes the most strenuous test of the romantic idea that worshipful time will forgive all those who love, and who live by, language."

Stephen Metcalf, "The Disgusting Brilliance of Lolita"

"Its real genius is too easily missed. It lies in what Nabokov called the "nerves of the novel," the "secret points, the subliminal coordinates by means of which the book is plotted." In these, Nabokov has hinted at the life that exceeds the perimeter of Humbert's encompassing obsession—at the inner lives of those others whom he so casually dismisses or destroys. It cost Nabokov, by his own admission, "a month of work" to write one sentence in which Humbert gets his hair cut by a barber who has never stopped mourning his dead son—a fact that scarcely dents Humbert's exquisite consciousness. And one last detail, hidden by Nabokov in the book's sham preface: Mrs. Richard F. Schiller, previously Miss Dolores Haze, aka Lolita, died on Christmas day 1952, giving birth to a stillborn baby girl."

Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov

“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.”

How incredibly creepy but what an amazing opening for a novel. If you could take away the fact that you know what Lolita is about before you start reading and imagine Lolita as an adult; perhaps one half of a pair of doomed lovers it would be much easier to just admire the impossible beauty of this language. In fact by the time I came to the end of Lolita I had to admit something I never thought I would: that even though it’s a disgustingly themed book it is most definitely art and beautiful art at that. So Vladimir Nabokov, I guess you are what everyone says you are: an actual artist. Imagine that.

“There are gentle souls who would pronounce Lolita meaningless because it does not teach them anything. I am neither a reader nor a writer of didactic fiction and… Lolita has no moral in tow. For me a work of fiction exists only insofar as it affords me what I shall bluntly call aesthetic bliss, that is a sense of being somehow, somewhere, connected with other states of being where art (curiosity, tenderness, kindness, ecstasy) is the norm.”

-Nabokov in the afterward to Lolita