I’ve decided that on Mondays I’m going to revisit the books I read for a course in college called Advanced Reading Survey, taught by the eminent scholar and lovable professor, Dr. Huff. I’m not going to re-read all the books and poems I read for that course, probably more than fifty, but I am going to post to Semicolon the entries in the reading journal that I was required to keep for that class because I think that my entries on these works of literature may be of interest to readers here and because I’m afraid that the thirty year old spiral notebook in which I wrote these entries may fall apart ere long. I may offer my more mature perspective on the books, too, if I remember enough about them to do so.

Author Note:
Charles Dickens was born near Portsmouth in 1812, the son of a government clerk. His parents, being rather incompetent in money matters, put young Dickens to work in a London warehouse at the tender age of ten. The time of chid labor in his life was brief, and DIckens soon returned to school. Nevertheless, the experience affected him deeply. Nicholas Nickleby was Dickens’ third novel, published after The Pickwick Papers and Oliver Twist.

Summary:
After the death of his father, young Nicholas must make his own way in the world, and serve as protector to his sister and mother, in spite of harsh schoolmasters, a grasping and greedy uncle, and other characters who are ready and willing to exploit the innocence of Nicholas and of his sister, Kate.

Characters:
NIcholas Nickleby: a young man who must come of age quickly when his father dies without leaving him any money.
Ralph Nickleby: Nicholas’s avaricious uncle.
Newman Noggs: Ralph Nickleby’s clerk and drudge.
Wackford Squiers: a one-eyed Yorkshire schoolmaster, head of Dothebys Hall.
Madeline Bray: an unfortunate young lady.
The Cheeryble Brothers: Nicholas’s patrons.
Mrs. Nickleby: Nicholas’s mother.
Kate Nickleby: Nicholas’s sister.
Miss La Creevy: a painter of miniatures.
Smike: Nicholas’s friend.

Quotations:
Persons don’t make their own faces, and it’s no more my fault if mine is a good one than it is other people’s fault if theirs is a bad one.

There are many pleasant fictions of the law in constant operation, but there is not one so pleasant or practically humorous as that which supposes every man to be of equal value in its impartial eye, and the benefits of all laws to be equally attainable by all men, without the smallest reference to the furniture of their pockets.

Mrs. Nickleby: “I would rather, I declare, have been a pig-faced lady, than be exposed to such a life as this!”
(Sometimes so would I. So would I.)

Two of my children were in a play a couple of years ago based on this novel, so I got to re-visit it then. I found it just as absorbing and full of life as a drama as I did when I read it thirty plus years ago. Has anyone seen this movie version? Is it any good?

Other bloggers talk about Nicholas Nickleby:
Books and Border Collies: “I have a literary crush on Nicholas Nickleby! And on his creator, Charles Dickens. Those of you who are veterans of Dickens’ writing will please forgive the silly gushing of a neophyte. He is such a joy to read! His characters are beyond memorable and his descriptions are so creative that I’m constantly thinking I would never in a million years have written something so imaginative.”
Bookphilia: “Dickens’ writing, for me, is always a joy to immerse myself in; as well, I liked many of the characters and wasn’t always irritated by how un-subtly Dickens employed them. It’s just that Nicholas Nickleby is so obviously the work of a writer much younger and perhaps less thoughtful than the writer who, 20-25 years later, produced A Tale of Two Cities and Our Mutual Friend. But it’s still brilliant because it’s still Dickens.”

If you’ve written about Nicholas Nickleby, leave me a comment and I’ll link.

I’ve decided that on Mondays I’m going to revisit the books I read for a course in college called Advanced Reading Survey, taught by the eminent scholar and lovable professor, Dr. Huff. I’m not going to re-read all the books and poems I read for that course, probably more than fifty, but I am going to post to Semicolon the entries in the reading journal that I was required to keep for that class because I think that my entries on these works of literature may be of interest to readers here and because I’m afraid that the thirty year old spiral notebook in which I wrote these entries may fall apart ere long. I may offer my more mature perspective on the books, too, if I remember enough about them to do so.

Author Note: (See last week’s post on Adam Bede.) In her novels, George Eliot often drew from her early life in Warwickshire where she grew up in an ancient red brick house as the daughter of a carpenter. This particular novel, The Mill on the Floss, was first named Sister Maggie, and later the name was changed.

Characters:
Tom Tulliver
Maggie Tulliver, Tom’s younger sister.
Philip Wakem, Maggie’s childhood friend.
Stephen Guest, fiance of Maggie’s cousin, Lucy.
Lucy Deane, Maggie’s and Tom’s cousin.
Tom’s and Maggie’s aunts: Aunt Moss, Aunt Glegg, Aunt, Deane, and Aunt Pullet.
Mr. Tulliver, Tom’s and Maggie’s father.
Bessy Tulliver, Tom’s and Maggie’s mother.

Summary:
Maggie Tullliver, an intelligent and highly introspective young lady, is imprisoned by the expectations of society and of her family. As Maggie grows up all of the men in her life are obsessed with various goals –revenge, money, status –and they thwart Maggie’s growth as a person and her ambitions.

Quotations:
These bitter sorrows of childhood! when sorrow is all new and strange, when hope has not yet got wings to fly beyond the days and weeks and the space from summer to summer seems measureless.

Maggie hated blame; she had been blamed all her life and nothing had come of it but evil tempers.

In natural science, I have understood, there is nothing petty to the mind that has a large vision of relations, and to which every single object suggests a vast sum of conditions. It is surely the same with the observation of human life.

The religion of the Dodsons consisted in reverencing whatever was customary and respectable.

She thought it was part of the hardship of her life that there was laid upon her the burthen of larger wants than others seemed to feel, –that she had to endure this wide hopeless yearning for that something, whatever it was, that was greatest and best on this earth.

Maggie: One gets a bad habit of being unhappy.

Confidences are sometimes blinding even when they are sincere.

Philip: You want to find out a mode of renunciation that will be an escape from pain. I tell you again, there is no such escape possible except by perverting or mutilating one’s nature.

Other bloggers:
Chris at Book-a-Rama: “Maggie grows into a gorgeous dark-eyed woman, receiving attention for being an exotic beauty but misunderstood because of her intelligence. Maggie finds herself trying to choose between two lovers.”

Ready When You Are, C.B.: “Mrs. Tulliver and her three sisters, their husbands and children all make up a very entertaining group and provide George Eliot ample opportunity to show off her skill at creating wide ranging characters.”

Bookish: I didn’t enjoy George Eliot’s (Mary Ann Evans) The Mill on the Floss (1860) as much as other books she’s written – this one was decidedly more Victorian, and what with watching Friday Night Lights and reading this (and living in the world), I’ve just about had it with patriarchal societies.

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I’ve decided that on Mondays I’m going to revisit the books I read for a course in college called Advanced Reading Survey, taught by the eminent scholar and lovable professor, Dr. Huff. I’m not going to re-read all the books and poems I read for that course, probably more than fifty, but I am going to post to Semicolon the entries in the reading journal that I was required to keep for that class because I think that my entries on these works of literature may be of interest to readers here and because I’m afraid that the thirty year old spiral notebook in which I wrote these entries may fall apart ere long. I may offer my more mature perspective on the books, too, if I remember enough about them to do so.

Author Note: George Eliot was the pseudonym used by author Mary Ann Evans, esteemed by some as the most distinguished English woman novelist. She used a male pen name to ensure that her works were taken seriously. Mary Ann was an educated woman, and as a young woman she fell in with a set of free-thinkers and liberal Christians and subsequently “lost her faith.” In 1854, she met George Henry Lewes, her companion for twenty-four years. Lewes was already married and cold not obtain a divorce, so he and Mary Ann lived together and regarded themselves as husband and wife despite the lack of legal sanction and despite adverse public opinion.

Characters:
Adam Bede: a carpenter.
Seth Bede: Adam’s brother.
Dinah Morris: a Methodist preacher.
Hetty Sorrel: a beautiful young woman.
Arthur Donnithorne: a gentleman.
Martin Poyser
Mrs. Poyser
Mr. Irwine: the village vicar.

Summary: Adam Bede, a salt-of-the-earth village carpenter, falls in love with Hetty Sorrel, a flighty young woman whose lack of judgement and whose yielding character bring her to ruin. Adam’s brother, Seth, loves another woman, Dinah, whose sterling character and devotion to God preclude her commitment to any mere man.

Quotations:
Adam: “God helps us with our headpieces and our hands as well as with our souls.”

Although he would probably have declined to give his body to be burned in any public cause, and was far from bestowing all his goods to feed the poor, he had that charity which has sometimes been lacking to very illustrious virtue —he was tender to other men’s feelings and unwilling to impute evil.

Imagination is a licensed trespasser: it has no fear of dogs, but may climb over walls and peep in at windows with impunity.

Dinah: “It seems as if I could be silent all day long with the thought of God overflowing my soul—as the pebbles lie bathed in the Willow Brook.”

People who love downy peaches are apt not to think of the stone, and sometimes jar their teeth terribly against it.

The human soul is a very complex thing.

Sleep comes to the perplexed—if the perplexed are only weary enough.

The beginning of hardship is like the first taste of bitter food—it seems for a moment unbearable; yet, if there is nothing else to satisfy our hunger, we take another bite and find it possible to go on.

God’s love and mercy can overcome all things—our ignorance and weakness and the burden of our past wickedness—all the things but our willful sin, sin that we cling to and will not give up.

Adam Bede is my favorite book by George Eliot. It’s on my list of Semicolon’s Best Fiction of All Time.

Other bloggers on Adam Bede:

Sonderella: “This was Mary Evans’ first published novel under the pseudonym George Eliot. An amazing first novel I might add. She has an uncanny ability to paint beautiful pictures with her words as she brings characters to life on the pages.”

Chris at Bookarama: “I did feel for Adam but I was aggravated with him for not seeing Hetty for what she really was. Most of the female characters were either harpies or whiners. It wasn’t enjoyable to read those parts.”

Incurable Logophilia: “Thankfully, there wasn’t a kitten to be seen in those last 100 pages of Adam Bede – my opinion of George Eliot remains firmly positive.”

Amazon Affiliate. If you click on a book cover here to go to Amazon and buy something, I receive a very small percentage of the purchase price.
These books are also nominated for a Cybil Award, but the views expressed here are strictly my own.

I’ve decided that on Mondays I’m going to revisit the books I read for a course in college called Advanced Reading Survey, taught by the eminent scholar and lovable professor, Dr. Huff. I’m not going to re-read all the books and poems I read for that course, probably more than fifty, but I am going to post to Semicolon the entries in the reading journal that I was required to keep for that class because I think that my entries on these works of literature may be of interest to readers here and because I’m afraid that the thirty year old spiral notebook in which I wrote these entries may fall apart ere long. I may offer my more mature perspective on the books, too, if I remember enough about them to do so.

I’m posting my notes from my reading, 30 years ago, of The Idiot because Cindy just read it and wanted to discuss it with someone else who had read it. I can’t really discuss it with her, but Past-Me can give her thoughts and the quotations she chose to copy into my notebook. (Confusing pronouns!)

Author note:
Dostoyevsky was born the son of an army surgeon and educated as a military engineer. He chose, however, to become a writer, and his first novel, Poor Folk, made him famous almost overnight. While attending a political meeting, he was arrested by the Czarist police and condemned to death. The sentence was later commuted to four years exile in Siberia. He served his sentence and returned to Russia to write his most famous novels, Crime and Punishment, The Brothers Karamazov, and The Idiot.

Characters:
Prince Lyov Nickolayevitch Myshkin: a young epileptic recently returned from Switzerland.
Nastasya Filippovna: a fallen woman whom Myshkin wishes to redeem.
Parfyon Rogozhin: Natasya’s boyfriend and sometimes fiance.
General Ivan Fyorovitch Epanchin: a friend of Myshkin.
Princess Lizaveta Prokofyevna: Epanchin’s wife and a distant relation of Myshkin.
Alexandra, Adelaida, and Aglaia: the Epanchin daughters.
Gavril Ardlionovitch: a man who first to marry Nastasya, then later Aglaia.
many more characters . . .

Quotations:
“At moments he dreamed of the mountains, and especially one familiar spot he always liked to think of, a spot to which he had been fond of going and from which he used to look down on the village, on the waterfall gleaming like a white thread below, on the white clouds, and on the old ruined castle. Oh, how he longed to be there now, and to think of one thing! — . . . Let him be utterly forgotten here! Oh, that must be! It would have been better indeed if they had never known him, and if it had all been only a dream.” p. 330.

“It’s life that matters, nothing but life—the process of discovering, the everlasting and perpetual process, not the discovery itself at all.” p. 375.

Oh, to have time to re-read some of the books that I read when I was a different person, twenty-one or twenty-two, unmarried, still dreaming and discovering in a twenty-something way. I’m sure I would see different things in the book and save different quotations this time around.

Cindy compares The Idiot to Wendell Berry’s Jayber Crow. I don’t remember enough of The Idiot to add to that discussion, but here’s my post on Jayber Crow. I’m fairly sure that both Jayber Crow and Myshkin could be seen as Christ figures, sacrificing themselves and their own desires in love for another. And the quotation above about life being in the living of it and not in the end discovery sounds a lot like these words that I copied from Jayber Crow:

“Nearly everything that has happened to me has happened by surprise. All the important things have happened by surprise. And whatever has been happening usually has already happened before I have had time to expect it. The world doesn’t stop because you are in love or in mourning or in need of time to think. And so when I thought I was in my story or in charge of it, I really have been only on the edge of it, carried along. Is this because we are in an eternal story that is happening partly in time?”

Maybe Cindy’s on to something.