The Poet Sings

I was treated to a wonderful night out courtesy of my sister-in-law this weekend. We went to see a local trio known as The Poet Sings. The group is made up of a pianist, a soprano and a baritone. This particular concert they were giving had as its theme "Songs of Youth and Love". The program was full of songs which had taken poems as their text, and it was gorgeous.

To begin, Catherine Gardner sang a series of Goethe poems set to music by Schubert. What a combination! It was beautiful. They even included the English words for those of us not so fluent in German.

Then pianist Sandra Mogensen gave us a piano interlude, a suite of waltzes by Ravel that shook you awake! Her specialty is Grieg and she has traced the connections between Ravel and Grieg, and will be performing her special program of the two at the Grieg Museum in Bergen, Norway next month -- what an experience that would be!

Following that we had some English poems sung by baritone Mark Gardner -- some of my favourite poets, like Hardy, Housman, RL Stevenson -- set to music by some marvellous composers, like Butterworth, Vaughn Williams and Finzi. Just gorgeous. I think my favourite, perhaps because I recognized it so quickly, was Housman's When I Was One and Twenty, set by Butterworth.

The second half of the concert was a set of more modern poems set to music by a composer I did not know of at all... Richard Hundley. I enjoyed them immensely - cummings, Dickinson, Joyce and more - on Hundley's website you can hear samples of many of them. I even discovered a new poet, James Purdy.

Overall. a great night out, and one that made me realize how often I went to concerts in university (my roomates were musicians) and how infrequent that habit has become. I'll have to remember how enjoyable it was!

Of course I loved the poetry nearly as much as the music so perhaps that was part of it too. One of my absolute favourite poems set to music ever is Charles Villier Stanford's "The Blue Bird", as sung by Carys Ann Lane and the Oxford Camerata. In fact I like it so much that it was part of our wedding music. Do you have a favourite poem made into a song?

World more full of weeping...

The World more Full of Weeping / Robert J. Wiersema

Toronto: ChiZine Publications, c2009.

101 p.

I read this little book as part of the Once Upon a Time Challenge (for which time is rapidly running out!) It takes a line from Yeats' poem The Stolen Child as its title, and it is indeed a tale of a stolen child. The cover is shiveringly appealing and I picked it up in hopes of a magical read.

Set in small town British Columbia, the story centres around a fractured family. Brian lives with his mechanic father, but is set to move into the city to live with his mother and her new boyfriend. He does not want to do this; he loves exploring the woods around their home and doesn't want to leave. He is especially loathe to leave now that he has a new friend: Carly, who meets him in the woods and despite being dressed in a slightly old-fashioned way she is knowledgeable about the woods and is able to show him places he'd never known about.

The story begins as Brian heads off into the woods for the day, his father works on a car in the garage, and his mother is expected to pick him up later in the day. She arrives, and Brian does not come home. At that point a search and rescue effort begins -- and we find out what has happened and why, finally, at the end.

The brevity of this tale (really a short story) precludes any extensive character development, and I really did feel the lack of it. The mother is a cipher, who lays on Brian's bed and cries for most of the story. And the end comes abruptly and left me feeling that there needed to be more of a resolution. Even Brian and his father needed more colour, at least for me.

Overall, it was an interesting concept, with a setting that facilitates the believability factor of someone getting lost in the woods. But, I think it is a problem I had with the length and manner of writing -- I just did not get sucked into the story, I didn't feel the sense of enchantment I'd hoped for.

I really enjoyed an essay appended on to the end, regarding Places & Names, however. It was a fascinating look at how places in fiction are both real and not real, and how an author creates the dual sense of place. Wiersema is fascinating when he talks about the town in his life that inspired the fictional town this story is set in, and the way its ghostly presence comes out in fiction.

Still, I think that others who aren't as distracted as I've been lately may have more success letting the story absorb them. Read a few other opinions before making any judgement based on my inability to love this little book. A few other bloggers have mentioned that this would be a good choice for teens, although it is aimed at an adult audience -- I'd agree, and teens who like supernatural elements might find this an easy but gripping read.

Gavin at Page 247 calls it "a mysterious gem"

Colleen at Chasing Ray says "What a wonder this story is - what a small and perfect wonder"

Comfort, Cherries & Castles for Victoria Day

Happy Victoria Day! Well, at least we celebrate good old Queen Victoria here in Canada. I didn't have any big plans for the weekend -- my idea of fun, like Jane Austen's, is to stay home for true comfort.


But to celebrate Victoria Day I usually like to make some kind of cherry dessert or drink (cherries were Queen Victoria's favourite fruit) and laze around treating myself like royalty.

To share my royally entertaining holiday with all my faithful readers, I thought I would put together a little reading list of some books featuring castles. Yes, those royal residences, which feature in these book titles:




1. I Capture the Castle / Dodie Smith

Surely one of my favourite castle-y reads, I have just featured this one in a recent list of fictional journals, as well as a number of other book lists I've done over the past years. My most listed, I believe!


2. We Have Always Lived in the Castle / Shirley Jackson

How could I overlook this creepy classic by the master of psychological horror? Read it with the lights on. Good thing the sun stays around later this time of year...


3. Lesley Castle / Jane Austen

A piece of Austen juvenilia put out by Hesperus Press, this is an entertaining, if not fully polished, epistolary novel -- brief but well worth it. Austen's sharp humour comes through clearly.



4. The Blue Castle / L.M. Montgomery

I am sure that many Lucy Maud fans will agree with me that this book, set outside PEI and aimed at adults, is one of her best. Funny, romantic and dreamy, I've read it about 100 times since I was a teenager. Valancy Stirling, put-upon daughter and spinster in a large clan, discovers she has a heart condition so throws over her societal constraints and family expectations to live the way she wants to, and of course, finds True Love.




5. The Castle / Kafka

If you want to feel like you are in one of those awful nightmares where you are stuck doing the same thing over and over and you are so tired and you don't know what is going on, just read this. Have fun!


6. The Castle of Otranto / Hugh Walpole

One of - if not the very first - Gothic novels in the English language, this is still a fabulously creepy read. Read it at Walpole's posthumous blog ;)


7. Castle Rackrent / Maria Edgeworth

Another 'first' novel: Wikipedia claims this book is "often regarded as the first historical novel, the first regional novel in English, the first Anglo-Irish novel, the first Big House novel and the first saga novel." All I know is that is an entertaining read with great character names, including the narrator, steward Thady Quirk.



8. The View from Castle Rock / Alice Munro

A book of short stories by the recognized master of the short story (and a Canadian to boot). This book is based in her family history, but is fiction. The blending of both, and how it is done, is almost as interesting as the stories themselves.


9. Maiden Castle / John Cowper Powys

A story of awkward and odd individuals in Dorchester, England, making a life together under the looming influence of Maiden Castle. As with all Powys' work, heavy on the myth and mystical aspects.



10. The Man in the High Castle / Philip K. Dick

A masterpiece of alternative history, the book is set in 1962: the United States has lost a war and is occupied by Nazi Germany and Japan. Slavery is legal again, Jews are in hiding. Acknowledged as one of Dick's best.

11. Axel's Castle / Edmund Wilson

And now for some wonderful non-fiction, try this classic study of Symbolism as it appeared in literature. Wilson discuss many of the huge literary stars of the era. Subtitle says it all: A Study in the Imaginative Literature of 1870-1930




12. One Room in a Castle / Karen Connelly

This beautiful travelogue takes us across Greece, Spain and France, all the while seeing things through the eyes of poet Karen Connelly. She is an extraordinary writer, and this book will give you new perspectives on the places she visits, and eventually settles down in.

Choyce's Seven Ravens

Seven Ravens: Two Summers in a life by the sea / Lesley Choyce
Toronto: Wolsak & Wynn, c2009.
200 p.

This is another book I was graciously sent by the publisher and have taken far too long to mention here! I read it at least a month ago, and quite enjoyed it. I like Lesley Choyce's sensibility and have talked about one of my favourite of his novels previously (The Republic of Nothing).

This book is a memoir of sorts, a study of two summers in which Choyce dealt with emotional upheaval by walking and writing, two methods he feels help to ground him in his own life. We are fortunate to be able to eavesdrop on him throughout his efforts, as he discusses kayaking, rehabilitating wildlife, writing (or trying to), speaking at public events, and generally observing the world around him.

He has a unique voice, and a facility for describing a writer's life which is rural rather than urban. He has decided that he is going to follow seven ravens as far as they take him each time he sets out for a walk, and this attempt leads him to various locales around his home. He says he intends "to write in my notebook each time I see a raven. I will assure myself that something significant, something vital, will happen at each point along the way until I am seven ravens from home. And at that point, I turn around and return."

One memorable location for me was under a pine tree as it rains around him, on the hills and on the sea. As he writes and notices the very old and very odd NO FISHING sign nearby, the setting comes alive, leaving me feeling as if my hair was curling in the humidity and my toes were getting damp. He also visits his tangled garden, and the downtown area of Halifax where he is going to teach a writing class. In all of these settings he acts like a naturalist, observing and noting down all the peculiar behaviours and strange living things which exist there.

He also has many of the same concerns as I do, primarily to do with writing and reading. He talks about his writing process and about the value of reading. For example:

For, while writing is an act of discovery and an attempt to understand, record and pass on the experiences of living, reading is also an act of resurrection. To write is to live; to read is to give new blue jay wings to every moment of awareness that has come before.

This is a calm and quiet read, one that encourages reflection and observation. I really enjoyed it, and find Choyce's realistic and unsentimental portrayal of living as a part of the natural world a satisying approach. This was an intriguing read, which I wish I would have reviewed sooner... my slowness in talking about it does not reflect my enjoyment of it.

Ship of Widows

Ship of Widows / I. Grekova ; translated by Cathy Porter.
London: Virago, 1985, c1981.
179 p.

I remember way back in January, thinking that I'd sign up for Emily's TBR Challenge, as the idea of reading 20 of my own books before buying any more sounded great. Well, I have failed miserably. I've already bought a ton of new books this year, but I am not giving up on the idea of getting the 20 books I put on my list for the Challenge read before too much longer. I've read a couple that I haven't talked about yet, and one such book is this novel, a Russian translation republished by Virago.

This is the story of a 'ship of widows', a Moscow apartment in which a group of five widows each inhabit a room and share the common spaces. The balance of the household is disrupted first when one of the supposed widows has a child, her husband returns from nowhere and eventually dies knowing he is not the father. The presence of the troubled, spoiled boy upsets the other women and drives the story forward. Later on another of the widows moves a man into her room, sparking arguments about how much of the household expenses she should now be covering. It always seems to be men at the root of these women's problems, whether domestically, societally or politically. Either they are too much there, or not there at all. The setting is post-WWII so there is a shortage of men and life is hard.

The book's genius, in my view, is how Grekova presents the details of living communally, the constant wrangling over territory and resources. The widows' lives are enmeshed due to their living situation, but that doesn't mean they are all best friends. They make it work, and each has their own quirks and makes their own contribution. Even the primary narrator Olga allows that she herself is not so easy to live with. The ways in which they struggle to make their lives work, both within the home and in the greater society, are drawn clearly but without any feeling of whining or complaining. It is just the way it is. The interwoven stories of each of the women (all different people - an intellectual, working class, religious peasant, etc.) provide a wide view of Moscow society of the time and all the small details fill it in so that you can truly feel what life must have been like.

The book moves between Olga's first person narration, and third person sections about the others in the story. Each is quite fascinating, and the young boy Vadim, who is raised by all of them, turns out to be quite a difficult creature. It is unfortunate that Vadim becomes such a focus of the second half of the book, as he was not very likeable (others note that he is a very typical Russian disaffected young man). I would have rather spent more of my time with the widows! But, if you want a clear look at daily life in an era of Russian history that is not frequently written about -- the urban, postwar female experience -- this is a good way to start. I enjoyed reading it, even if much of the tale is sad and dreary. The human spirit triumphs even in these depressing circumstances, in the way that women can get used to anything and survive, if not flourish.

Though Grekova's writing is straightforward and matter-of-fact, I found a few quoteable bits that have stuck with me.

In the past I had always been sustained by my worries about other people, and other people's worries about me. The word 'unworried' is generally associated with the notion of happiness. But how vulnerable and forlorn a life without worries is!

Each person fights for themselves, and for justice. And in this battle for justice people are prepared to sacrifice themselves and suffer, if only in order that evil may be punished. Whose fault is it if everyone has their own interpretation of justice?

So too in our flat, everyone wants justice done, but everyone understands the word differently. Everyone is just in their own way. One of the most painful things life has taught me is that everyone is right in their own way.

Another view: Lisa at Lizok's Bookshelf reviews it with a professional eye

To read a long & insightful essay about Grekova's works, look at the introduction to Ship of Widows

Weekend Romance Reading

Sometimes you just feel like a little light reading. My brain has been in need of some relaxation this week, and this is what I've read -- 2 romance novels by 2 authors I greatly enjoy. The kind of romance novels I like are mostly historical, especially Regency. Both of these authors started out with novels set in that era, which is how I got hooked on them years ago. But it is amazing what you can learn from Regency novels: every time I watch Jeopardy there are numerous answers I know because of my Regency reading. For absolute detail and precision, you must read Georgette Heyer. But these two modern novelists are pretty fun, too.


1. Burning Lamp / Amanda Quick

This is the second in Amanda Quick/Jayne Ann Krentz/Jayne Castle's newest trilogy in the Arcane Society novels. The Arcane Society started with an alchemist way back in Newton's time, and is made up of families who have unusual psychic gifts -- such as reading auras, having enhanced psychic abilities, etc. They are always infighting, leading to lots of drama through the centuries, and somehow the men working for them are always diamonds in the rough - tall, dark, handsome and powerful. This particular novel is set in Victorian years, the most entertaining Arcane era for me. We have murderous villains, unprecedented psychic powers, mad scientists, and of course, True Love.


2. A Secret Affair / Mary Balogh

Mary Balogh, though born & raised in Wales, has lived in Saskatchewan for years. As a fellow Saskatchewanian I feel that I really need to read her vast output of romance novels ;) This one I received courtesy of Random House, and the perfect timing is greatly appreciated!

This latest contribution is one in a series about a specific family in Regency/Georgian England (even if the cover is a bit skanky for the era). Each individual gets their own story, and in this one we hear the love story of Constantine Huxtable, the black sheep of the family. As always Balogh's writing is very emotional: though both Constantine and his love interest the Duchess of Dunbarton seem cold and aloof, they are both really soft-hearted social reformers, and they love children. I do get a little tired of the notion that a man is really worth loving because he gets along with children, but, I know there are many people for whom that idea resonates.

The story proceeds along expected lines, but having read all the other books in this series, I am aware of the history behind it, which really fills out some of the characterization. Balogh is very good at drawing motivations and desires of the characters and making the stories more than just a formulaic fill-in-the-blanks. And even in 'just' a romance novel, there are moments of wisdom to be shared -- as when Constantine ponders his recent rude behaviour:

Perhaps one of the worst of his sins, a very recent one, had been his denial of all that he knew to be true of human nature. All people -- all -- were a complex product of their heritage, their environment, their upbringing and education and cumulative experiences of life as well as of a basic character and personality with which they were born. Everyone was a rose but even more complex than a mere flower. Everyone was made up of infinitely layered petals. And everyone had something indescribably precious at the heart of their being.

No one was shallow. Not really.

Now isn't that a more poetic way of saying that there's more than meets the eye in every person? A good lesson to be reminded of, a lesson in empathy. And so two good reads to relax and yet engage the brain this cold and rainy weekend.

Whoops!

Wow, got really busy there and just realized how terribly I've been neglecting my poor blog. I'll just pop in again to share a few things that I've found interesting over the last couple of weeks...


Just finished Esther Sternberg's Healing Spaces (a review to come) and one very interesting fact I discovered in that book is that dogs who track by scent can distinguish between anyone...except for identical twins. They smell the same. Weird!

Are you familiar with the concept of Slow Food? I've just come across quite an intriguing small book called Slow Reading, by John Miedema, in which he says that "slow reading of books is still essential for nurturing literacy and the capacity for extended linear thought." If you want to take a look there is a sample chapter online, and lots of info on his website as well.

Thanks to Kate at Kate's Book Blog, I found an article at The Guardian all about childhood reading. Specifically, childhood books that can still make you cry. I think that the ones that really get to me, even now, are Anne of Green Gables (Reading about Matthew and you don't cry? You must be very cold-hearted!) and Tuck Everlasting. That one can really get me going. What about you?

Also at the Guardian, one of my favourite books by my latest author crush is the bookclub pick: Moon Tiger by Penelope Lively. Read a summary and then follow along!


And seriously, it doesn't take much to make a librarian happy. Look at my shiny new office toy:




It's so purple! And it holds so many new books :)