Tolkien, J. R. R., The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien

http://the-hobbit-movie.com/   www.imdb.com/title/tt0903624/

I’ve tried to read this book several times in my life and completed it one other time, but never really enjoyed or understood it until this time through. I’m not a natural to the fantasy genre, but I think my reading from this list (and Peter Jackson’s movies) has softened me up for it. And, if you’re going to read fantasy, Tolkien is excellent.

I found this book hard going. I dislike books where all of the characters have weird names, like Dwarg and Throen, and Oli and Tholi, or whatever (it’s always been a barrier between me and Russian literature!). And the action develops somewhat slowly. But, struggle as I did to read, I found that I was carrying the book and characters in my mind throughout the day. The quest and the dilemma of Bilbo were with me, and the fabulously decadent, decayed, overgrown, or sere landscapes, too. The dark Mirkwood, the hideous spiders, the lightless caves, and on and on, stayed with me, have become part of me.

I can close my eyes and see Gollum on his island deep within the caves, his eyes glowing. I can see the dragon sleeping among its treasure. One of my favorite scenes is when the dwarfs are sent down river in big barrels. The irony is precious for the drawfs, who so enjoy whatever is generally in a barrel, to be in them themselves.

The story is classic—a treasure quest during which the hero (Bilbo) finds new aspects to his character and learns to view his own and other cultures through each other’s eyes. He falls upon his own wits and passes through every test. One of favorite things is the book’s theme of either turning a disaster into a victory or finding that the decision you thought was bad was indeed the right one. And Bilbo ends up with the ultimate possession--the ring of power.

Gandalf is present infrequently in this book, but, like all good god characters (Aslan of Chronicles of Narnia, for example), you sense and are reminded of his presence from time to time, which gives you security that if the worst happens, someone will intervene. Then, the reader is surprised/delighted to find that Bilbo was for the most part sufficient. (Bilbo is surprised too!) Don’t wait for a god when you have your own wits about you. (I can imagine the arguments now between Tolkien and C.S. Lewis.) Anyway, a higher recommend than I expected for The Hobbit. I can’t wait to see Peter Jackson’s take on the story.

Guy Mannering, by Sir Walter Scott, 1815

A Dandie Dinmont Terrier; the breed's name derives from one

of the characters in Guy Mannering who keeps such dogs.

 

Guy Mannering is truly the book for me. The edition I read (from Herbie Wescoat) has an introduction, notes at the back, footnotes, a glossary of Scottish dialect, and an index! Returning readers to my blog will know that useful front and end matter are a rare treat for me. Yum. Not-so-yum for the introduction, though. It is rambling and for the most part disconnected from the book itself, although it claims to give the sources for the basic plot.

Guy Mannering itself is interesting and has some terrific characters, but the writing is just too stretchy for me. As in Ivanhoe, the dialogue was over-long and too detailed. I had a great urge for characters to get to the point already. It is a book of action, with way too many words between. The plot is at root a romance--the featured lovers face great obstacles and the getting over of them is the work of the book. The title character Guy Mannering is not the romantic hero and in fact has no love interest (like love is only for youth). He is a background figure who crosses paths with the hero, Harry Bertram, several times, but never on purpose. Bertram was kidnapped at age five and grew up unaware of his true identity. In India, he meets and falls in love with Mannering's daughter Julia. He follows the Mannerings to England and then Scotland, where he seeks the means to openly court Julia.

Bertram undergoes ordeals and trials upon his journey, to the point at which he has but the clothing on his back, no friends, and no means of establishing his identity--neither the identity he knows (Vanbeest Brown) nor the one he doesn't (Harry Bertram). In true hero-journey fashion, his deeds along the journey earn him friends and information that help him through the dark night of imprisonment and into the sunny day of a hearty inheritance. I wouldn't disclose these events if they weren't so obvious in the romance formula.

Meanwhile, back in Scotland...Bertram's father was tricked into selling all of the family property to a slimy villain named Glossin. One of the most moving scenes of the book takes place on the day the property transfer takes place. Old Bertram and his daughter are seated on a hill watching as the neighbors from miles around go through their home putting offers on their worldly goods. Except for Meg Merillies, Bertram's daughter and the other female characters are not very important to the plot, except as objects for men to fight for and fight over. They do not direct the action in their own lives to any degree.

As in the other two Scott books I've read, the side characters are truly engaging--real scene stealers. My favorite is Meg Merrilies, a gypsy witch goddess of great height and abilities. She is so old that no one remembers when she wasn't old, and she has a longer attachment to the Bertram land than any of the Bertrams even though she has never owned any of it. Meg directs the action at key points and is one of most important characters in the book. I can't believe no woman has ever made a movie of this book just to get that role. The gypsies, in general, are a shadow population that Meg can bring to bear at certain times and places. Go to www.allpoetry.com and search for the poem "Meg Merrilies" by John Keats. The poem is much more romantic than the hard-edged Meg in Guy Mannering.

 Meg Merrilies in a stage portrayal, 1855

Another great character is Dandie Dinmont. Yes...the dog breed was actually named after this character. Farmer Dinmont does raise dogs, but his larger role is as a supporter of Harry Bertram. Dinmont is also larger than large, large appetites and large loyalties. Harry saves his life and thereby gains lifelong friendship. Like Meg, Dinmont gains credibility from his relationship with the land.

A third secondary character (third secondary!) is Dominie Sampson, teacher to Harry before his kidnapping and faithful servant of the Bertram family through good times and bad. I can't even explain him--he's tongue-tied and stammering most of the time, yet his loyalty to the Bertrams ennobles him--and people who "get" him are thus identified as good. Guy Mannering takes immediate liking to Dominie. Sampson's key role in the story (in plot terms only) is as someone who can verify the story of Harry's kidnapping and establish his identity when he returns to Scotland.

The fourth terrific character is Pleydell, the attorney. The scenes between Pleydell and Guy Mannering are wonderful and funny and crisp, in great contrast to much of the narrative.

All in all, I liked Guy Mannering, but if it hadn't been on the book list I am sworn to read, I don't know if I would have stuck with it. It was very popular when published, so maybe I am too used to sound bites and short swallowable chapters (Patterson!) and facebook posts and sitcom length narratives to really enjoy reading at the leisurely pace this book enforced. I do know that the characters will live with me forever and that I've had Meg Merillies as a role model long before I met her in print! I have one more Scott book to read, written much later than this one. I'll be interested to see if Scott's style changed over time.

Anne of Green Gables Series, books 3 and 4, by L.M. Montgomery

  Lucy Maud Montgomery

Montgomery, L. M., Anne of the Island

Anne continues to grow up, getting into and out of scrapes and troubles. The death of friend Ruby is sweetly portrayed. Diana gets married. Anne sees people moving on with their lives. Where is hers going? The book covers Anne’s college years, during which she gets a B.A. She and Gilbert are estranged, she having rejected his marriage proposal. Royal Gardner shows up—Anne’s perfect romantic hero made flesh, wealthy, poetic, devoted. Her struggles with love are sweet and refreshing. She really has to process all the romantic imagery she has structured around love. Many new characters. Many new adventures. The relationship between Anne and Gilbert is finally settled.

A touching passage occurs when Anne returns to the house in which she was born and meets people who knew her parents. Letting Anne settle into her identity and heritage is important psychological business handled in this book.

One thing charmingly rendered is the “you can’t go home again” cliché. Anne returns for the summer every year and every year feels a little less like Avonlea is “her” place. She learns to cope with changes—good and bad. She is conscious of having gained much, but also having to give things up in the bargain.

Overall, I am liking this series. I get impatient waiting for something to happen, for a story arc that isn’t there. The plot across books is chronologically episodic. And that is the theme: what happens as a girl grows up. I’m at least engaged enough to be eager to read the next book. Will a story arc emerge? Will anything really awful happen to Anne—something that her natural optimism and the power of love cannot handle? So far, there always seems to be a cushion under Anne’s disasters and troubles. I’ll let you know.

WEB LINKS
A good source for PEI travel and tourism, which incorporates many Anne of Green Gables sites, is www.krolltravel.com. Also, see www.gov.pe.ca.

Montgomery, L. M., Anne of Windy Poplars

Fourth book. The franchise is wearing a bit thin. Windy Poplars is an episodic account of various irascible characters Anne meets when she teaches for three years at Summerside High School. It is narrated about 50% by letters and 50% third person. Rapturous descriptions of landscape abound. I’m getting a little tired of it. Anne is getting to be JUST TOO CUTE. She brings sunshine and solutions wherever she goes and match-makes like crazy. Marriage is certainly the key to happiness for women. She reunites the ununited, weds the unwed, de-crankifies the cranky, unsaddens the sad. But Anne herself is static in this book. She starts out wonderful and stays wonderful. And, I do like her, thank goodness. But the book is more a series of vignettes than a coherent plot.

Anne corresponds with fiancé Gilbert, gushing occasionally. But Gilbert doesn’t really show up—I don’t think he has a single line of dialogue. And Green Gables is mostly absent. And it’s Green Gables that glues it together for me.

This book was a struggle to get through. My eyes glazed over many times. At least in the next book, Anne’s wedding and marriage should provide good meat for my palate.

WEB LINK
For information about the musical "Anne and Gilbert," which is based on these two books, please see www.anneandgilbert.com.

The Giver, by Lois Lowry, 1993

You'll understand the cover by the end of the book.


The Giver is a John Newbery Medal winner--a high honor for children's fiction. People from about age 10 on up would enjoy and appreciate it. The hero is 12 years old.

Jonas is a happy 11-year-old, fits in well with his peers, has a happy home life. His only worry is that at age 12, a job assignment will be given to him and he doesn't have a particular feeling about what it will be. He seems  interested in everything, but not too interested in anything. Then he starts to have strange moments when things look different. He doesn't know how to describe it. And he knows it would make him seem odd. Odd is not good. Sameness is good.

The community in which Jonas has grown up is committed to Sameness. All of its laws and traditions enforce the principal that Sameness is good, stability is good, predictability is good. Highs and lows, likes and dislikes, even extreme language is censored. When Jonas's friend Asher uses a colorful word, he is corrected immediately by his teacher:

"...once again you have provided an opportunity for a lesson in language. 'Distraught' is too strong an adjective to describe [your experience].' He turned and wrote 'distraught' on the instructional board. Beside it he wrote 'distracted.'

Gradually, the ground rules of Jonas's community emerge. Any feelings that do arise among the limited lives of the citizens are talked away in a bizarre sort of rational-emotive or cognitive therapy. When Jonas's sister Lily talks about a bad experience at school, her parents politely "unpack" it for her, validating and then eliminating her feelings. When Jonas's mother relates a stressful encounter at work,

Lily [Jonas's sister] stood up and went to her mother. She stroked her mother's arm. From his place at the table, Father reached over and took her hand. Jonas reached for the other. One by one, they comforted her. Soon she smiled, thanked them, and murmured that she felt soothed.

This sounds good. My family could have used a dose of these strategies. But the reader discovers that things in this place are just a bit too soothed, a bit too regulated. Clothing is doled out based on age and occupation. Bicycles are strictly governed as to when you can get one and what kind it is. A P.A. system filters instructions and cautions to the whole community. Occupations are chosen for children when the turn 12, which they do all at once together in December. Individual birthdays are not celebrated. When people get to be a certain age they are retired to Old People Homes. And, at the right time, they are "released."

Jonas sees some of the inconsistencies in philosophy of his group, but, like a good citizen, he dismisses them thoroughly--until his group's twelfth birthday. His occupational assignment is astounding, and gives him a new and frightening look at the principles governing his life. Thus is the utopian community exposed.

I don't want to keep going, because I am getting too close to spoilers, and some of plot turns made me gasp. I will say, however, that this is a really good book. It reads quickly and well...just slow enough at first to get your buy-in for the Sameness culture, and then speeding up as Jonas's insights come crowding in. Here is a picture that sums up the whole book:



The Giver, by providing contrast, explains and softens some of the hideous things that don't happen in Sameness--brutal death, sickness, starvation, cruelty. Because to wipe those out wipes out happy life, wellness, fullness, and love. Jonas's culture decided that the trade-off was worth it.

The book is inconclusive in its ending. However, there are two sequels, Gathering Blue and Messenger. I will be reading them to see how the dilemmas established by The Giver can ever be resolved.

Best bits: When Jonas discovers snow by experiencing it before he has words for it. Really cool.

Gripe: OK, so it's a utopia. So, it must be fatally flawed. No one ever gets it right. Yep, here comes a person vs. nature, person vs. machine, person vs. control book. The utopia will be exposed, every time. In books where a utopia is built, it is the end of the book. There is no plot line to pursue in a utopia. That's just sad. But it happens all the time. The grand structure of Aragorn's utopia in Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, is summed up in a couple of paragraphs; the great achievement is way more interesting in the becoming than in the being. I used to argue all the time with people who claim that suffering is good because it teaches you things. Can't we learn more through happy experiences? It doesn't seem to be the way of the West. I've given up the argument. Now, past 50, it's not worth the bother. And people who don't suffer do seem sort of shallow. Who knows... Anyway, the plot has been done before, ad nauseum. It probably gets repeated because it works. In this book, it is masterfully done.

Physical Description: Traditional paperback size; limited front and end matter, but has printing on inside of front and back cover; 23 chapters (ouch, a prime number) in 179 pages; intriguing cover (see above) featuring seal of Newbery.

Smokin' Seventeen, by Janet Evanovich, 2011

I was embarrassed more than a couple of times by laughing out loud while reading this book in public places. Evanovich writes a truly funny murder mystery. It’s like Starsky & Hutch change genders and combine with Larry, Curly, and Moe. Evanovich’s hero and first-person narrator, Stephanie Plum, makes her seventeenth appearance in this book and it is quite a romp. The Starsky to Stephanie’s Hutch is a well-rounded ex-hooker named Lula.

Stephanie apprehends fugitives for a bail bonds agency. Sounds hot. Sounds glamorous. But in Evanovich’s skewed worldview, the fugitives turn out to be a feeble old man who thinks he’s a vampire, a truly stupid convenience store robber, and, yes, a trained bear. Her weapons include a handgun, but also a stun gun, sauerkraut, and the spiked heel of a shoe.

HowStuffWorks "How Stun Guns Work

Stephanie’s romantic escapades involve a mysterious thug-turned-security-expert and a hunky police officer. She is being pressured by her parents (and the cop’s grandmother) to make some sort of decision between the two. The grandmother is old-world and puts the Evil Eye and various curses on Stephanie. Stephanie’s parents introduce a third suitor for Stephanie’s hand, adding to the complications and to Stephanie’s guilt over not being able to make a choice. Lots of healthy sex only adds to the confusion.

And, oh yes, there is a murder mystery going on also. Dead bodies keep turning up and they keep getting closer and closer to Stephanie. Thank you, Janet Evanovich, for not turning Stephanie into one of those detective-as-victim women that seem so prevalent in contemporary women’s detective fiction. Stephanie goes right on out to find the guy, and she’s pretty tough about it. I won’t go into details. A book review always flirts with spoilers, but I do my best to preserve the book’s surprises.

Evanovich also manages my other pet peeve—the amount of time an author spends updating all the characters in a continuing series. Evanovich got it done, but I didn’t notice it. Her updates were all cleanly integrated into the narrative.

My favorite element of Smokin’ Seventeen is Stephanie’s voice. As a first-person narrator, she is fresh, funny, frank, and distinctive. (Sorry, couldn’t think of another f-word.) Stephanie quickly becomes a friend, a pal, who lets you in on her strange and sordid adventures in the land of petty crime.

The setting of the book is confined to a set of neighborhoods in Trenton, New Jersey, in which Stephanie grew up. Her first step in locating a bail jumper is to call some friend of her mom’s who she knows will help locate the perp. The crimes and criminals are petty and grimy and often plain old stupid. Stephanie scrapes out a living one outrageous felon at a time. Her friends, family, and co-workers are wacky and distinct. The whole concept is pretty far out of the realm of normal, but instead of distancing me from the book, I could totally relate. The privately narrated story of anyone’s life is probably pretty strange—the indecisions, contradictions, paradoxes, competing drives. They make Stephanie easy to relate to, sort of an everywoman, in a blue collar sort of way.

You can tell that I loved this book. It’s a good quick read. It’s tremendously funny. Please check it out from your library and enjoy.

Best bits: The imagination of the author, which takes the action in directions unexpected. And the writing is top grade. I never questioned the plausibility of any sequence. Here’s a sample:

I sidled up to Merlin and the man standing behind him elbowed me aside…Merlin looked over his shoulder at me, and recognition registered. I reached out to stun gun him, he batted my arm away, and the stun gun flew off into space. By the time I retrieved my stun gun Merlin…was already... leaving the lot. I was holding a lot of anger, and it was directed at the idiot who elbowed me aside. I casually sidled up to him and accidentally stun gunned him. He went down to the floor, wet his pants, and I felt much better.

Special favorite item: Watch out for the granny panties.

Trouble spots: Every single element of the book ended up having relevance by the end of the book (masterfully done), but I couldn’t keep track of every octopussian plot line. I couldn’t figure out who Regina Bugle was and why she was tailing Stephanie. So keep your eyes open, folks.

Physical features: Nicely book-sized, not much fuss in the front and end matter; 39 chapters, 308 pages. Adequate layout and typography (book club books don’t generally push the edges of design).