A Tale of Two Cities

Well, I've begun reading my next book, A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. By the way, forgive me if I sound distracted, I'm watching The Mummy. I can't help but wish I was on some fabulous Egyptian adventure with Brendan Fraser in the 1940s... Anyway, back to Dickens. I'll be honest, the first few chapters are a bit dry. For about the first 30 pages it's difficult to discern a clear protagonist. In fact, chapters 1-3 feel rather like an introduction or a prologue. However, that being said, chapters 1-3 are also full of beautiful, insightful, moving passages. The passages are so lovely and perspicacious that they ought to be read several times over. I've only reached chapter 4, so I have little left to report. I'll be sure and update as soon as I've read further.

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of DArkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way--in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only." -Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities (Chapter 1)

The Age of Innocence

"The worst of doing one's duty was that it apparently unfitted one for doing anything else." -Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence

Book: The Age of Innocence

Author: Edith Wharton

Year Published: 1920

Analysis:

When thoroughly and properly examined, Edith Wharton's The Age of Innocence is a fascinating read. The beginning chapters might seems a bit slow and tedious, especially for those who are unaccustomed to the structured, formal language. However, the initial "slowness" is more than atoned for by the end of the novel. Wharton's book is intricate. Although the reader might not recognize this fact early in the book, towards the end of the novel the reader begins to see how tightly and skillfully woven the book actually is. I also found that The Age of Innocence is brimming with meaningful imagery. Wharton continually gives her readers clues and insights about her characters and the plot within this imagery, which makes it all the lovelier. Aside from the imagery, the characters from the Age of Innocence are equally beautiful. Newland, Ellen and May are vibrant, captivating portraits of their time. I especially like that the novel is given from a male perspective. Most books of this kind are female centric. Don't mistake me, I adore a good Victorian heroine, but seeing a romance unfold from a male point of view is deeply intriguing, especially considering the fact that the book was written by a woman. Another thing that I loved about The Age of Innocence is that Wharton allows all of her characters to explain themselves. She could have easily written May and her family as snobs, which they are, but she reveals their complexities and allows the reader to understand characters who they might otherwise find un-relatable. Wharton does this especially well with Newland, since he is the narrator we see his thoughts which are sometimes noble, but we also see how enticing societal norms are for him. This helps the reader realize that Newland isn't a true snob, if put in his position wouldn't any one be tempted to act similarly? Anyway, in my opinion, The Age of Innocence is a beautiful, poignant novel that juxtaposes images of tradition and change, and of duty and desire, and it stands out as a rich and insightful picture of "Old New York", and upper class society in general.

*Spoiler alert*

Thoughts about the ending:

The ending, although thoroughly frustrating, should not come as a complete surprise if you pay careful attention throughout the book. However, as much as I understand that structurally the novel had to end that way, I'm going to choose to believe that Newland and Ellen meet accidentallly in some obscure corner of the L'ouvre and fall in love again--instantly. ♥

Favorite Quote/Passage:

"The amber beads were trying to her complexion, or her dress was perhaps unbecoming: her face looked lusterless and almost ugly, and he had never loved it as he did at that minute. Their hands met, and he thought he heard her say: "Yes, we're sailing tomorrow in the Russia--" then there was an unmeaning noise of opening doors, and after an interval May's voice: 'Newland! Dinner's been announced. Won't you please take Ellen in?'

Madame Olenska put her hand on his arm, and he noticed that the hand was ungloved, and remembered how he had kept his eyes fixed on it the evening that he had sat with her in the little Twenty-third Street drawing room. All the beauty that had forsaken her face seemed to have taken refuge in the long pale fingers and faintly dimpled knuckles on his sleeve, and he said to himself: 'If it were only to see her hand again I should have to follow her--' " (chapter 33)

"She gave herself to books and learning"

I've decided on an official purpose for this blog. Perhaps its a bit ambitious, but I I want this to be a book blog. The books I'll read will be mainly classic literature (I find it difficult to maintain interest in most modern literature). I'll write out thoughts/feelings/opinions/conjectures etc.. regarding the books that I read. Forgive me if my progress through the readings is a bit slow, but I'll do my best. I've just finished reading The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton. I'll post a brief analysis and some thoughts tomorrow (hopefully).

"She gave herself to books and learning" -Belle & Sebastian ♥

Fantasy and Fiction

I've spent the past two evening engrossed in PBS's Tess of the D'Urbervilles which I borrowed from the library. I can't stop thinking about Tess and Angel wandering recklessly through the country side and taking shelter at stone henge, about the vivid green valley where the dairy farm lies, or about Sorrow's nettled grave. I read Thomas Hardy's, Tess of the D'Urbervilles a few months ago, but this movie truly re-animated my love for the novel. I rarely say this, but I believe that I actually got a keener sense of Tess' love and tragedy from the film than I did from the novel. I'm always so disappointed in "romantic" movies, they seldom satisfy me. The plots always seems to be sappy, predictable and thoroughly unsatisfying. This film however, may be one of the most deeply, beautifully, heartbreakingly romantic movies I have ever seen. Anyway, I need to find another book to absorb myself in. I've been reading The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton, but the story hasn't intrigued me yet. I bought a whole slew of Barnes & Nobles classics with a gift card, that ought to keep me out of reality for a while. Fiction after all is much preferable to reality :). Lately, I've been doing all I can to ward off the pains of disillusion.

♥

Movies

Here are some films that I put together a while back. The first one is a tribute to Marie Antoinette. I used film clips from Marie Antoinette and combined them with the song "Louis Quatorze" by BOW WOW WOW. Enjoy!

This one is made from clips from one of my favorite books & movies, I Capture the Castle. The song is Samson by Regina Spektor.

Silly Me

Today has been a pleasant sort of day: overcast and coldish. I always feel like a romantic heroine walking around campus in the wind and the mist.

My cat is determined to prevent me from composing this entry. She is stubbornly asserting herself between me and my lap-top, making it impossible to think, let alone type. Oh well, I love her dearly.

I mean to start writing again, not just on this blog, but in general. Perhaps I'll even dabble in poetry. If I happen to create anything that isn't terribly embarrassing I'll post it here...

I've just seen the commercial for the movie Wolfman, which looks enormously entertaining. Emily Blunt is in it, so it ought to be good. I recently saw Young Victoria which I thoroughly enjoyed. Rupert Friend is oh so dreamy. Really though, I adored Young Victoria. It was romantic, clean and I felt that it captured Victoria beautifully. Anyway, enough of my aimless rambling.

After rereading this I realize how in-cohesive the entire thing is. I apologize. No, I don't. After all this is my blog; why should I have to sound formal, or rational for that matter?

Of Gothic Romance Novels

Well, I was right in assuming that this blog would be neglected for quite a while. However, on a whim I've decided to post something. I'm not entirely sure what I ought to write about. Today was sort of dull and I have little of interest to report. Oh! However, I did find a new song today! Wuthering Heights is one of my favorite books and it sort of led me to my fascination with classic literature, however, thats a different story. Anyway, I just discovered that there is a song about Wuthering Heights, its been covered badly by various artists, but there are a few good versions of it. For some reason most of the covers of this song involve women with annoyingly shrill voices but the cover by Josh Pyke is quite good. Pat Benetar's version isn't bad either. Nonetheless, I adore the song, if for no other reason than its about one of my favorite novels. It seems like no one appreciates classic literature anymore, so for me this song is refreshing. Speaking of gothic romance novels, I had a bit of gothic romance novel day yesterday. It began in the morning when I saw a dead dog dog on the highway. It was an enormous white dog who looked rather like some great mythic beast fallen in defeat. It was horrible; it made me want to cry. On my way home I saw another dead dog on the highway. All that was left of this one was carnage littered across the road. It was awful, although not nearly as tragic as the first dog. Later, while I was still on my way I home, I stopped at a traffic light. I was sitting quietly, without music, when an old beggar woman came to my window. She stood inches away from my window and stared at me for a long time. At first I was paralyzed and couldn't break her stare. She had these ancient, haunted looking grey eyes. When I finally gained composure I turned and stared hard at the traffic light, waiting for it to change. In my peripheral vision I could still see her figure framed in my window, watching me. She never said word, nor did she motion for me to giver her anything. It was truly unnerving and I was in a state of shock all the way home. I still don't know what to make of it all.