Bibliography
Nov. 22nd, 2009 10:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_lady_lilyThe House of Mirth - Edith Wharton
I took a volume of three of Wharton's novels with me to Europe, and duly devoured them like very tasty, classy popcorn.
The first, The House of Mirth, is a tragic tale of the social downfall of Lily Bart, a woman without a mother, who has absolutely no understanding of how money works and thus enfolds herself in social scandal by managing to put herself under financial obligation to a rather unpleasant man who gets upset when he doesn't get the favours he believes he's been purchasing. Her social career spirals down and down and down despite her efforts to marry a man who will look after her - and of course it all ends badly.
Now, on the one hand this is all terribly depressing, and it makes you very glad that women are less keen sell themselves for the kind of luxury that Lily wishes to. The portrait Wharton paints of her friend Gerty Farish, an overly enthusiastic independent woman living in genteel shabbiness, is - well, let us say rather unkind and not terribly appealing, and Gerty's character is not portrayed in the most flattering of lights. Neither, to be frank, are most of the other characters in the novel. The only reason Lily Bart wishes to live like them is because she wants to be wealthy and live in luxury, and be admired - not because of any liking for the people in society. In fact, the one man she really likes she won't marry, because he couldn't support her as she wishes to be supported.
It's a terribly mercenary way of looking at things, but to be honest, it also feels horribly realistic. In some ways, the kinds of social hierarchy (and this in the great classless society) that Wharton captures, the gradations and whom is seen with who and all that, are impeccably represented. You do rather wonder what on earth all the fuss is about - but, fundamentally, it seems to come down to the fact that Lily Bart was born to live in a certain manner, and can't possibly imagine living in any other way. The fact that her moral compass eventually leads her to do so is her greatest redeeming feature, but also her ultimate downfall. Wharton clearly does not approve of a person coming to the virtues late in life without having been thoroughly grounded in them all along.
Ethan Frome - Edith Wharton
This is only a short novella piece, about a man who falls in love with his wife's cousin, and the consequences of that. It's set out in the rural countryside, but Wharton doesn't feel any less assured here than she does in the urban landscapes she normally writes in. The general thrust of unrequited and hopeless love does exactly what it says on the tin - once more, with tragic consequences. The idea of impetuous action comes in for very obvious criticism too, but that's neither here or there. The genius of this piece is that it's a very finely drawn psychological portrait of the title character, so that you really are drawn into his emotions and reactions in such a way that is very powerful, and very compelling.
The Custom of the Country - Edith Wharton
This novel follows the social adventures of Undine Spragg, a social hopeful from Apex trying to get into New York society. Undine Spragg is one of the most throttle-desire-inducing characters in literature. She's utterly spoilt, she wants exactly what she wants and will pout and stamp her foot until she gets it, and she's as self-centered as a gyroscope. She's utterly inconsistent, and again totally unwilling to understand even the concept of money and poverty. She can always think of one thing more she'd like, one way to be better she'd like, and will hurry after that to the ruin of everything else she has. The novel charts her various marriages and divorces, and one really feels for her poor son and the men she leaves dangling in her wake.
Undine is the other side of the coin to Lily Bart. Lily had morals, Undine has none (or very few). That doesn't make one character more interesting than the other, but it's clear that they're both based on different 'types' that Wharton would have encountered in her own social circles. Equally, while Lily mainly requires stability in her New York circle, Undine demands bigger and better things - once she's accessed the 'traditional' New York set, she then has to have European aristocracy, and finally the up-and-coming business magnate, where she can see the power really lies. Her adaptations and changes of heart really make you want to sit her down and take away her toys - except when her second husband tries to do that, it doesn't quite work.
Anyway. Worth reading, again because of Wharton's ability to capture characters so beautifully. Even if Undine is thoroughly exasperating and has the morals of - well, not quite a cat, but reasonably close.
The Izumi Shikibu Diary
This was added to the list at the same time as The Memoirs of Lady Hyegyong, and is part of the same cultural moment as Sei Shōnagon's Pillow Book. Honestly, I don't think I'm going to recommend this one, simply because it's not quite as interesting if you're not interested in this sort of thing, and I get the impression that the Tale of Genji is probably a better example. The story follows the love affair of a woman and a prince, and the major dramatic force is drawn from whether or not they're actually going to continue said affair and whether she will move into the prince's quarters or not. Things are complicated by the fact that the woman was also having an affair with the prince's older brother, recently deceased. There's a lot of poetry, some of it quite beautiful, as the lovers exhanged duelling poems in the manner of the court nobility.
Dear reader, she does move into the palace. There isn't really much depth to proceedings beside whether or not she will do this, and the reasons why the two lovers fall out or reach misunderstandings are at times, frankly, a bit silly. If you like this sort of thing, go for it. If you're new to the genre, I'd go with The Pillow Book instead.
The Years of Rice and Salt - Kim Stanley Robinson
I read this partially out of curiosity, partly after your recommendations - and I have to say that I'm not wholly convinced.
The central idea is sound - let's say reincarnation is real, and that the plague killed off Europe entirely, that there were no crusades and so Islam and China became the real powers, eventually challenged by India. So far, so good. Let's say that a group of souls always travel together - and lets tell their stories. OK, with you so far.
The problem is that I'm not entirely sure about how the stories get retold. In some ways, Robinson's conception of history seems to be 'oh, well, the world couldn't cope without us inventing thing X, so let me just happen to have my people who I am following involved in the inventing of thing X, so I can see what that looks like!', which means you end up with the Islamic version of Isaac Newton - which is interesting, but feels a bit template-esque. Ditto the Chinese version of Christopher Columbus. And the Second World War equivalent, I could have done without that. You kind of wonder what history would have felt like if it hadn't been assumed that we would have had to discover electricity. Not to mention that it feels a bit... forced that all these reincarnated people keep on being incarnated in such interesting places.
It's also quite hard to get attached to individual characters, because you are moving in and out of story arcs and switching characters, but all the time they're actually the same people really. That's kind of hard to get one's head around, and I'm not so sure I think it's as successful as Robinson wants it to be. There's also something about the writing style that puts my back up a bit, although I'm at a loss to put my finger on precisely what right this second.
In sum - it's an interesting experiment, and an experiment that's worth reading to see how you feel about how successful it is, but in my personal opinion, I'm not entirely convinced.
Lifting a Ton of Feathers - Paula J. Caplan
This is subtitled 'A Woman's Guide to Surviving in the Academic World', and it does what it says on the tin. In some ways, it is very depressing reading. It was published in 1993, and I keep on reading things and going 'well, I don't suffer that!' and having to go 'well, that's because you're very lucky'. The other problem is going 'well, things don't work like that in Classics!', and having to remind myself again that I've been very lucky to be in departments that have had women-friendly attitudes, and that this is not necessarily the norm for all classicists. It might be safe to say that we're a fairly equal discipline, certainly in comparison with the sciences, and that the 'chilly climate' of the classroom that Caplan frequently refers to isn't so prevalent in Classics departments - but again, I'm speaking from my rather privileged experience here.
The book's real value, I think, is in laying out a set of catch-22s which academic women get caught in. Unless the catch-22 is pointed out, the woman feels that she's either inadequate or going mad or both. For instance, one that really struck home to me was "writing for publication requires concentration; but if you refuse to become overloaded with work other people ask you to take on, you are considered uncollegial and even 'bitchy'". She's onto something here, as this is based on a myth that all women are naturally nuturing and will bend over backwards to look after their students, colleagues, family and wandering waifs and strays. This is a real problem for me because I am someone in whom those nurturing instincts, for better or worse, are present - but in an academic career, that can't be allowed to be my driver. But that means running up against gendered expectations. And that can cause problems.
I sincerely hope that the myths and catch-22s Caplan lays out are not quite as hard or as wide-spread as they were in 1993. Part of me knows this is wishful thinking, and that it is good for me to see this all written down, and to know that when I do hit a catch-22, I have a reminder that it is the system that is making me feel as if I am going A Bit Mad, and not my inherent failing or incompetence. I may have to revisit this one if things do get to that stage, although with any luck I will continue my lucky streak and not run up against them. Fingers over-optimistically crossed, eh?
I took a volume of three of Wharton's novels with me to Europe, and duly devoured them like very tasty, classy popcorn.
The first, The House of Mirth, is a tragic tale of the social downfall of Lily Bart, a woman without a mother, who has absolutely no understanding of how money works and thus enfolds herself in social scandal by managing to put herself under financial obligation to a rather unpleasant man who gets upset when he doesn't get the favours he believes he's been purchasing. Her social career spirals down and down and down despite her efforts to marry a man who will look after her - and of course it all ends badly.
Now, on the one hand this is all terribly depressing, and it makes you very glad that women are less keen sell themselves for the kind of luxury that Lily wishes to. The portrait Wharton paints of her friend Gerty Farish, an overly enthusiastic independent woman living in genteel shabbiness, is - well, let us say rather unkind and not terribly appealing, and Gerty's character is not portrayed in the most flattering of lights. Neither, to be frank, are most of the other characters in the novel. The only reason Lily Bart wishes to live like them is because she wants to be wealthy and live in luxury, and be admired - not because of any liking for the people in society. In fact, the one man she really likes she won't marry, because he couldn't support her as she wishes to be supported.
It's a terribly mercenary way of looking at things, but to be honest, it also feels horribly realistic. In some ways, the kinds of social hierarchy (and this in the great classless society) that Wharton captures, the gradations and whom is seen with who and all that, are impeccably represented. You do rather wonder what on earth all the fuss is about - but, fundamentally, it seems to come down to the fact that Lily Bart was born to live in a certain manner, and can't possibly imagine living in any other way. The fact that her moral compass eventually leads her to do so is her greatest redeeming feature, but also her ultimate downfall. Wharton clearly does not approve of a person coming to the virtues late in life without having been thoroughly grounded in them all along.
Ethan Frome - Edith Wharton
This is only a short novella piece, about a man who falls in love with his wife's cousin, and the consequences of that. It's set out in the rural countryside, but Wharton doesn't feel any less assured here than she does in the urban landscapes she normally writes in. The general thrust of unrequited and hopeless love does exactly what it says on the tin - once more, with tragic consequences. The idea of impetuous action comes in for very obvious criticism too, but that's neither here or there. The genius of this piece is that it's a very finely drawn psychological portrait of the title character, so that you really are drawn into his emotions and reactions in such a way that is very powerful, and very compelling.
The Custom of the Country - Edith Wharton
This novel follows the social adventures of Undine Spragg, a social hopeful from Apex trying to get into New York society. Undine Spragg is one of the most throttle-desire-inducing characters in literature. She's utterly spoilt, she wants exactly what she wants and will pout and stamp her foot until she gets it, and she's as self-centered as a gyroscope. She's utterly inconsistent, and again totally unwilling to understand even the concept of money and poverty. She can always think of one thing more she'd like, one way to be better she'd like, and will hurry after that to the ruin of everything else she has. The novel charts her various marriages and divorces, and one really feels for her poor son and the men she leaves dangling in her wake.
Undine is the other side of the coin to Lily Bart. Lily had morals, Undine has none (or very few). That doesn't make one character more interesting than the other, but it's clear that they're both based on different 'types' that Wharton would have encountered in her own social circles. Equally, while Lily mainly requires stability in her New York circle, Undine demands bigger and better things - once she's accessed the 'traditional' New York set, she then has to have European aristocracy, and finally the up-and-coming business magnate, where she can see the power really lies. Her adaptations and changes of heart really make you want to sit her down and take away her toys - except when her second husband tries to do that, it doesn't quite work.
Anyway. Worth reading, again because of Wharton's ability to capture characters so beautifully. Even if Undine is thoroughly exasperating and has the morals of - well, not quite a cat, but reasonably close.
The Izumi Shikibu Diary
This was added to the list at the same time as The Memoirs of Lady Hyegyong, and is part of the same cultural moment as Sei Shōnagon's Pillow Book. Honestly, I don't think I'm going to recommend this one, simply because it's not quite as interesting if you're not interested in this sort of thing, and I get the impression that the Tale of Genji is probably a better example. The story follows the love affair of a woman and a prince, and the major dramatic force is drawn from whether or not they're actually going to continue said affair and whether she will move into the prince's quarters or not. Things are complicated by the fact that the woman was also having an affair with the prince's older brother, recently deceased. There's a lot of poetry, some of it quite beautiful, as the lovers exhanged duelling poems in the manner of the court nobility.
Dear reader, she does move into the palace. There isn't really much depth to proceedings beside whether or not she will do this, and the reasons why the two lovers fall out or reach misunderstandings are at times, frankly, a bit silly. If you like this sort of thing, go for it. If you're new to the genre, I'd go with The Pillow Book instead.
The Years of Rice and Salt - Kim Stanley Robinson
I read this partially out of curiosity, partly after your recommendations - and I have to say that I'm not wholly convinced.
The central idea is sound - let's say reincarnation is real, and that the plague killed off Europe entirely, that there were no crusades and so Islam and China became the real powers, eventually challenged by India. So far, so good. Let's say that a group of souls always travel together - and lets tell their stories. OK, with you so far.
The problem is that I'm not entirely sure about how the stories get retold. In some ways, Robinson's conception of history seems to be 'oh, well, the world couldn't cope without us inventing thing X, so let me just happen to have my people who I am following involved in the inventing of thing X, so I can see what that looks like!', which means you end up with the Islamic version of Isaac Newton - which is interesting, but feels a bit template-esque. Ditto the Chinese version of Christopher Columbus. And the Second World War equivalent, I could have done without that. You kind of wonder what history would have felt like if it hadn't been assumed that we would have had to discover electricity. Not to mention that it feels a bit... forced that all these reincarnated people keep on being incarnated in such interesting places.
It's also quite hard to get attached to individual characters, because you are moving in and out of story arcs and switching characters, but all the time they're actually the same people really. That's kind of hard to get one's head around, and I'm not so sure I think it's as successful as Robinson wants it to be. There's also something about the writing style that puts my back up a bit, although I'm at a loss to put my finger on precisely what right this second.
In sum - it's an interesting experiment, and an experiment that's worth reading to see how you feel about how successful it is, but in my personal opinion, I'm not entirely convinced.
Lifting a Ton of Feathers - Paula J. Caplan
This is subtitled 'A Woman's Guide to Surviving in the Academic World', and it does what it says on the tin. In some ways, it is very depressing reading. It was published in 1993, and I keep on reading things and going 'well, I don't suffer that!' and having to go 'well, that's because you're very lucky'. The other problem is going 'well, things don't work like that in Classics!', and having to remind myself again that I've been very lucky to be in departments that have had women-friendly attitudes, and that this is not necessarily the norm for all classicists. It might be safe to say that we're a fairly equal discipline, certainly in comparison with the sciences, and that the 'chilly climate' of the classroom that Caplan frequently refers to isn't so prevalent in Classics departments - but again, I'm speaking from my rather privileged experience here.
The book's real value, I think, is in laying out a set of catch-22s which academic women get caught in. Unless the catch-22 is pointed out, the woman feels that she's either inadequate or going mad or both. For instance, one that really struck home to me was "writing for publication requires concentration; but if you refuse to become overloaded with work other people ask you to take on, you are considered uncollegial and even 'bitchy'". She's onto something here, as this is based on a myth that all women are naturally nuturing and will bend over backwards to look after their students, colleagues, family and wandering waifs and strays. This is a real problem for me because I am someone in whom those nurturing instincts, for better or worse, are present - but in an academic career, that can't be allowed to be my driver. But that means running up against gendered expectations. And that can cause problems.
I sincerely hope that the myths and catch-22s Caplan lays out are not quite as hard or as wide-spread as they were in 1993. Part of me knows this is wishful thinking, and that it is good for me to see this all written down, and to know that when I do hit a catch-22, I have a reminder that it is the system that is making me feel as if I am going A Bit Mad, and not my inherent failing or incompetence. I may have to revisit this one if things do get to that stage, although with any luck I will continue my lucky streak and not run up against them. Fingers over-optimistically crossed, eh?
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Date: 2009-11-23 09:53 am (UTC)I know more of the techy business world, but there it's slowly improving. Slowly. In the late 90s I was given the graduate fledglings to manage and train; when I asked why, as they didn't fit with my work at all, $boss said "You're the only woman in the team"... !
Long may your luck last :)
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Date: 2009-11-23 12:57 pm (UTC)'Ethan Frome' is probably better known now as the terrible book Martin Q Blank hated during his school days, in 'Grosse Point Blank' - "are you still inflicting all that horrible 'Ethan Frome' damage?", "it's off the curriculum" - which is a shame in a way.
I still need to read Years Of Rice & Salt, in my copious free time.