Reading Journal: Monday 8th March 2010

First of all, Hi! It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve had the pleasure of scribing a journal entry, and during that time I’ve read a number of bits and pieces – not as much as I normally would because the focus has been more on getting RobAroundBooks to were I wanted it in a technical sense – but far too much to ramble on about it in a single journal entry. So as most of this reading will be revealed in future asides and afterthoughts posts, I thought, as far as the reading journal goes, that I’d close the door on the reading I’ve done over the past couple of weeks (it was all non review selections anyway) and resume with the here and now.

One other thing I want to say before I go on to give a rundown on yesterday’s reading, is that I’m currently experimenting with a number of different forms and styles with regards to my reading journal. So you will see, over time, this feature evolving slightly. I don’t think there is anything bad to be said about that however, because I’m of the opinion that any form of personal journal inherently changes form and shape over time, as its owner grows and evolves, so I’m only doing what comes naturally. In fact if anything it’s going to be exciting journey for all of us, seeing how this feature ‘shape shifts’ over the coming months. Anyway enough rambling from me, here’s a run through on yesterday’s reading.

So getting back to routine means Monday is my day for connecting with Maupassant (in support of my Devouring de Maupassant reading challenge) . And this week rather than continuing my ongoing journey through the Oxford University Press collection of Maupassant shorts in A Day in the Country and Other Stories, I wanted to do something a little different. At the weekend I was dipping into one of my most precious of volumes – Steinbeck: A Life in Letters (Penguin Books), and I was reading about some controversy surrounding the ending of The Grapes of Wrath. I won’t spoil things for anyone who hasn’t read The Grapes of Wrath, but just before its publication the publishers sent a letter to Steinbeck showing some reservations with his ending. Aside from thinking that the novel finishes all too abruptly, the publishers had slight cause for concern:

Marshall [Managing Editor of The Viking Press] has just called my attention to the fact that de Maupassant in one of his short stories ‘Midsummer Idyll’ has a similar ending [edited to avoid spoiler]. Is it important?

Long story short Steinbeck responded with vehement passion for his ending of Grapes stating that he had spent many thousands of hours constructing things so the reader’s nerves would be ripped to rags, and he didn’t want to leave them with a satisfying ending. And with regards to his response to the ending being similar to that of Maupassant’s short story? Well he said that he’d never read the story, but considered the act that the scene depicted to be ‘older than literature’. Well said John! No doubt you can imagine just how much my interest was piqued for reading the Maupassant, and thankfully I found the story in an old Leisure Circle Library edition that I have (it comes under the title, Idyll) and so I set that for one of my first Maupassant tale of the day.

So how did I get on with Idyll? Well first and foremost it’s an explicit tale, to the point of shocking (have I lived a sheltered life? Probably! ) but it is also incredibly powerful. Official afterthoughts on the story HERE but I’ll comment here on any resemblance to the ending of Steinbeck’s Grapes. Both may cover a similar theme, but there is really no real resemblance in my mind. In Idyll the scene is central to the story and it is built up throughout the course of the tale. Whereas, in Grapes the similar act comes sharp and sudden, without any indication that such an act was going to happen. In that sense I think Steinbeck’s depiction is the stronger of the two. However, when one thinks of it in chronological terms one may assume that the French Victorians may have been somewhat shocked, or more probably, highly aroused. Either way it’s a powerful tale.

Hehehe..what I’m thinking right now as I write, is how much I my have built up the intrigue up for those who haven’t read Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath. I’m thinking that maybe one or two of you is now itching to look a copy out. Well good for you if you are, because it’s a wonderful novel – a real soul-toucher!

Of course I always treat myself to two story offerings from Maupassant on a Monday and yesterday was no exception. With it being a stunning day – whole indicative of an opening day of Spring – I thought to myself what better tale to indulge myself with than one entitled, In The Spring?. It turned out to be the perfect choice. Walking through the woods with the warming sun glinting through the trees and the first accents of green popping up through the winter carpet, Maupassant did nothing but accentuate the ‘feel good’ joys of Spring, by perfectly encapsulating in prose that feeling that seems to wash over everyone as the door closes on winter and the way ahead is flung open towards new beginnings. May I have permission to indulge you dear reader? Then prepare to taste Spring, courtesy of Monsieur Maupassant:

With the first day of spring, when the awakening earth puts on its garment of green, and the warm, fragrant air fans our faces and fills our lungs and appears even to penetrate to our hearts, we experience a vague, undefined longing for freedom, for happiness, a desire to run, to wander aimlessly, to breathe in the spring. The previous winter having been unusually severe, this spring feeling was like a form of intoxication in May, as if there were an overabundant supply of sap.

One morning on waking I saw from my window the blue sky glowing in the sun above the neighboring houses. The canaries hanging in the windows were singing loudly, and so were the servants on every floor; a cheerful noise rose up from the streets, and I went out, my spirits as bright as the day, to go–I did not exactly know where. Everybody I met seemed to be smiling; an air of happiness appeared to pervade everything in the warm light of returning spring. One might almost have said that a breeze of love was blowing through the city, and the sight of the young women whom I saw in the streets in their morning toilets, in the depths of whose eyes there lurked a hidden tenderness, and who walked with languid grace, filled my heart with agitation.

Isn’t that a wonderful, wonderful picture that Maupassant paints? The story isn’t too bad either. It’s about the dangers of getting carried away by the feeling of love that permeate the air at the outset of Spring. There’s a of of gaily running around the woods in this story, and I admit strolling through the woods myself I was tempted. However I resisted the urge because 1) How ridiculous would it be for someone to stumble across a middle-aged fat bloke running gaily around the woods, and 2) when I run, Steinbeck’s chase instinct kicks in and I have 30kg of lumbering Labrador bearing down upon me; a terrifying experience, as I’m sure you can imagine. Anyway, you can catch my full afterthoughts on In The Spring HERE.

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When I took my unexpected short break from blogging, you may remember that I was part way through Neel Mukherjee’s A Life Apart (Constable & Robinson) and I was enjoying it immensely. Taking the reviewing reigns back up yesterday I thought it was just going to be a simple case of carrying on where I left off with this novel, but I was wrong! Such is its density and intricate nature of its story structure (not a complaint just an observation), that after trying for half-an-hour to get back into A Life Apart, I decided to start again from the beginning. I’m glad I did because now that I’m up to pg. 102, I’m right back on top of things.

So how is the novel progressing? Well It’s going good, but I’m finding that I need every ounce of concentration in order to follow everything. One review quote calls the book ‘densely populated’ (in a good way) and they’re not kidding. I don’t consider the novel to be dense in the same way as a Kafka or a Joyce would be for instance, but rather that a lot of things are going on at once. Couple that with the poetic nature in which Mukherjee presents most of his prose, and you can be sure that some level of concentration is needed in order to stick with it. I don’t consider this to a bad thing per se, it just means that the novel is no ‘quick read’ – or at least that’s what I’m discovering for myself.

::Tuesday’s reading plans::

• Tuesday can only mean special time with my precious Chekhov and I have two stories lined up. First up is A Nightmare, and this is followed closely by a tale entitled Grisha, which apparently is about a chubby little fat boy who wears a big cap with a fluffy pom-pom. You think that may be a tale with a comedy theme to it? It sounds like it but who can tell with Chekhov
• In my last journal entry I said that I was going to be reading the next essay in Chinua Achebe’s new collection The Education of a British-Protected Child (Allen Lane), titled My Dad and Me. Well I kept to my world and I did read it , except I didn’t take any notes and I’ve mainly forgotten about it what I read. Suitably embarrassed I’m going to read through this one again before commenting.
• It’s time at last to get down and dirty with zombie gloop, as I finally take my first journey into the wonderful new collection of zombie-flavoured stories from Piatkus Press. Some of you may be shocked to find me going down this odd avenue – given that I mainly munch on literary works and classics – and if you are one of these people then please go and read this post, which reveals me to be something of a closet zombie fan. So back to this collection and the first story up is one by John Connolly and it’s entitled Lazurus. Sounds like a biblical reference to me, but the only way I’ll find out is to read it.
• After all the effort I put in in getting back into Neel Mukherjee’s A Life Apart yesterday, you can be sure that I’m sticking like glue to this one now until it’s finished. So I’ll be dedicating as much time to this novel as I can today.

‘Reading Journal’ provides an unedited, on-the-fly record of the bookish highlights in Rob’s reading day.