Review: Northanger Abbey (by Jane Austen)

My Rating: 4.5 stars

With this month being the 250^th anniversary of Jane Austen’s birth, the Austen fangirl in me of course could not pass up the opportunity to celebrate such an important milestone with an Austen-themed read-a-thon of my own (not to mention this gives me the chance to finally work my way through a few of the dozens upon dozens of Austen-related books that I’ve accumulated over the years). 

To kick off my reading celebration, I decided to start with the only novel of Austen’s that I had not yet read: Northanger Abbey.  In making this decision, the first order of business, naturally, was figuring out which version of the book I would be reading, since, like many English Literature majors who are also superfans of Austen’s works, I own several different editions of all her novels -- ultimately, I opted for the version annotated by David M. Shapard.  This is actually my first time reading a fully annotated version of a novel and I’m so glad I made this choice because it really elevated and enhanced the reading experience for me.  As the type of reader who enjoys learning about historical and other background context in my reading (especially when it comes to aspects of a story that I find interesting), an annotated version is right up my alley in that it allows me to indulge in all the nerdy delight of going down literary rabbit holes (though the downside, of course, is that it does take me longer to get through the book).

Northanger Abbey is the first of Austen’s six novels to reach fully finished, ready-for-publication form, though ironically, it was one of the last of her novels to be published, coming out together with her last complete novel Persuasion after her death.  As her first novel, Northanger Abbey can be considered Austen’s bildungsroman, or coming-of-age novel, that serves as the bridge between the juvenilia she wrote in her youth and the more intricately complex and nuanced maturity of her later works.  It is perhaps because NA was written so early in Austen’s career -- along with the fact that the novel had already been submitted for publication many years before it was actually published (she had submitted it to a publisher in 1803 who never did anything with it, so her brother bought the rights back and published the novel 14 years later, in 1817) – that it lacks some of the subtle wit and sophisticated sardonic humor of say, Pride and Prejudice (my favorite of her works).  In comparisons, the humor here is more straightforward, as Austen makes it pretty clear that she wrote this book as a parody of the “novel” – specifically the Gothic novel (or what was referred to as “sentimental novels” during that time). That said, as someone who has read and studied the form, I must say that the way Austen parodies Gothic novels in here (the focus is mostly on Ann Radcliff’s The Mysteries of Udolpho, which makes sense given that Radcliff is the “godmother” of the form) is nothing short of brilliant.  Throughout Northanger Abbey, Austen subtly compares and contrasts the heroine and hero, Catherine Morland and Henry Tilney, with the heroine and hero typically depicted in Gothic novels to produce a satiric juxtaposition that is both clever and ironic.

Speaking of the main heroine and hero – the Catherine Morland / Henry Tilney pairing is now officially my third favorite pairing in Austen’s novels (after Lizzy / Darcy at #1 and Anne / Wentworth at #2).  I honestly didn’t think I would like Catherine much at first, as I’m not a fan of naïve (aka meek, ignorant, childish, weak, etc.) characters and that had been largely how I had heard Catherine described in much of the scholarship around the novel – but after finally reading this novel myself, I’ve found that those descriptions of her don’t do her justice.  Yes, there were quite a few instances where she acts immaturely and her naivete gets the better of her (she is only 17 years old in the novel, after all, and lived a pretty sheltered life before her experiences in Bath), but what I appreciate about her character is that she grows and evolves and ultimately learns from her mistakes.  Also, she is one of the few heroines who doesn’t get “duped” by the obvious villainous suitor (the iteration in this story being John Thorpe) – one of my favorite scenes is in Chapter XIII of Volume I when Thorpe (and his annoying sister Isabella) try to force Catherine into canceling her appointment with the Tilneys through backhanded power plays, but instead of falling for it (which would be the expected reaction due to her lack of experience in “seeing through” people), she literally (and physically) defies them and runs after the Tilneys to clear things up (I actually yelled out “you go girl!!!” during that scene, lol).

Regarding Henry Tilney – let me just say that he is one of the wittiest heroes in all of Austen’s novels.  I love the fact that he can be witty and engaging and fun yet also serious and level-headed when he needs to be.  And yes, he has one of the best lines in the entire book – in response to Catherine’s assertion that men don’t read novels (because that is what John Thorpe told her when he dismissed her reading habits earlier), Henry responds with: “The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.” That response alone is enough to endear him to me forever, lol!

Lastly, I want to comment on my rating for this book.  As I mentioned in my previous reviews of Austen’s works, all her novels honestly deserve 5 stars in my book (and the reality is that I have rated all her novels as such except Mansfield Park, my least favorite of her works, which I still rated 4.5 stars).  My biggest complaint with Northanger Abbey is that the ending is super rushed and it also doesn’t address the fates of the supporting characters – specifically the “villain” characters such as the annoyingly duplicitous Thorpes – which makes the story overall a little less satisfying because for me, part of the “fun” of reading Austen is to see these characters get their comeuppance.  That doesn’t really happen in this case -- at least not to the extent that Austen does so in her later novels, which I would say is the one main blemish with this book that caused me to rate it 4.5 stars (which, of course, is still very high).

What a great way to kick off my Austen reading month!  Can’t wait to continue my immersion in the world of Austen in the coming weeks!

Review: Mansfield Park (by Jane Austen)

My Rating: 4.5 stars

 

Now that I completed my large essay for class, I can finally buckle down and catch up on my leisure reading, just in time for summer!  But first, a few catch-up reviews on books I had read over the past couple weeks, but didn’t get a chance to write about due to being too busy.

 

Those who’ve been following my reviews probably know that I’m a huge Jane Austen fan.  Since I’m studying British Literature in school, many of my classes will of course cover Austen’s works, which is why I’ve been re-reading all of her novels over the past couple years.  This time around, I re-read Mansfield Park and I will be honest in saying that I struggled quite intensely with how to rate this one (specifically, should I give it 5 stars or 4.5 stars?).

 

On the one hand, this IS my all-time favorite author Jane Austen – call me biased, but I feel like all her novels deserve 5 stars just based on the sheer complexity and nuance of her writing.  On the other hand, MP is my least favorite of Austen’s novels, and the one that actually makes me angriest whenever I read/re-read it.

 

One of the things I’ve always loved about Austen is her ironic wit – she writes with a sardonic sense of humor that renders her novels funny, but in a subtle, inimitably nuanced way.  With MP however, Austen went in a slightly different direction in that she seemed to tone down the satiric humor quite a bit, which had the effect of dialing up the overall “wretchedness” of the characters.  What I mean by this is that in most of her novels, Austen uses humor (albeit subtly) to clever balance out her characters’ follies and vices, which still achieves the ‘cautionary tale’ effect but makes the characters more tolerable and less annoying.  In other words, the mean and nasty (and generally deplorable) characters come across as less mean and nasty (and less deplorable) because the other more sensible characters in the story keep the follies of these characters in check.  Think Mr. Woodhouse in Emma (whose hypochondriac ramblings the people around him pretend to indulge, but in reality, push back upon) or Lady Catherine in P&P (who gets ‘put in her place’ by both Darcy and Elizabeth and different points in the novel).  Basically, with these characters, because they are so heavily caricatured and made fun of, their ridiculousness becomes obvious and they end up making me laugh, which also makes their unlikability less strong.

 

In MP, unlike the other novels, the nasty characters are allowed to ‘run amok’ so to speak and rarely, if ever, get put in their places.  Aunt Norris, for example, is allowed to say all sorts of nasty things to Fanny Price and no one in the Bertram family (not even Fanny’s biggest defender Edmund) ever bothers to refute her or call her out for being abusive (I’ve seen Aunt Norris often described as a ‘bully’ but I personally feel that’s sugarcoating what she truly is: an abuser through and through).  Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram are also awful, but in different ways.  While it’s true that Austen does utilize her signature wit to describe these characters in a at various points in the novel, the sarcasm is relatively mild compared to her other works.

 

And yes, like many readers, I had an issue with Edmund and Fanny as the main couple in this story, as it honestly wasn’t convincing and I honestly did not feel that Edmund was worth Fanny ‘pining’ over for the entirety of the novel.  With that said, I’m probably one of the few readers who does not ‘hate’ Fanny Price – sure, she is very different from Austen’s other heroines: she is meek, obedient, afraid to speak her mind, and self-effacing to the point of being annoying (there were multiple times where I wanted to shake her and tell her to stop putting herself down) – but when I think about the way the Bertram family treated her (subjecting her to constant verbal abuse and tamping down her confidence at every opportunity), it made perfect sense to me why Fanny’s personality turned out the way it did.  Instead of disliking Fanny, I felt sorry for her, and couldn’t help thinking that, if she had been raised under different circumstances, perhaps she would’ve turned out differently.

 

As I mentioned earlier, MP may be my least favorite of Austen’s novels, but it is still a brilliantly written one that is well-worth reading, especially for serious Austen aficionados like myself.  While definitely less charming than P&P (which was intentional on Austen’s part, as she famously thought P&P was too “bright and sparkling,” so her later novels focused on still being comedic but more serious), it’s just as thoughtfully written, with endless angles to explore that only become apparent upon re-reading.

Review: Wuthering Heights (by Emily Brontë)

My Rating:  3.5 stars

First off, I have to admit that I actually finished this book a couple days ago, but had to put off writing the review not because of lack of time, but rather, I needed to work through the seriously mixed feelings I had toward this book as a whole.  This was actually my first time reading Emily Brontë's famous "story of unrequited love" and while part of me (the literary scholar side?) can see why this classic has been lauded and held in such high regard for over a century, another part of me (the rational reader side?) honestly finds it hard to understand the appeal of such a dark, depressing story where every single character is horrid and deplorable (more on this later). 

Yes, the writing is absolutely brilliant — the symbolism, the masterful use of language, the wholly developed characters, the vivid imagery, the complex and nuanced themes, the creative and clever way Brontë structures the narrative, the interesting usage of narrative voice, etc. — from a literary standpoint, this novel is a "dream" to study and analyze as a great example of brilliant and mesmerizing storytelling.  With that said though, when I take off my "scholar" hat and put on my "regular reader" one, the experience is very very different.  I'm the type of reader who puts a lot of weight on the characters in a story and as such, in order for me to be fully invested in the story, I need to have at least one character that I feel like I can root for.  Yes, I understand that every story will have its fair share of flawed and unlikable characters and that's perfectly fine — but the problem with this story in particular is that EVERY SINGLE character is not just unlikable, but exceedingly so, to the point that not even one character is worth rooting for. Seriously, every character in here is in some way mean, spoiled, cruel, selfish, hypocritical, vindictive, violent, self-absorbed, abusive, etc. (I could go on, but you get the point) — though of course  Heathcliff tops them all by being downright evil as well (it's not a coincidence that he is compared to the Devil at various points in the story).  Based on their actions and behavior. I honestly could not bring myself to care about any of the characters (not even Nelly or Lockwood, who were somewhat more tolerable in the grand scheme of things, but still…), which unfortunately made this a brutal and deeply unpleasant read for me.  

Given the above, I'm actually glad that my first experience reading this was in a group setting (again for one of my literature classes), as being able to talk through the problematic elements as well as getting more background context did help to blunt some of the unpleasantness to some extent (though not completely of course).  In this light, I definitely don't recommend picking this one up individually as a "leisure" read, as it's best read in an environment where the events that happen can be parsed and discussed within context (in my opinion at least).

Regarding the rating — to be honest, I agonized over this for quite some time.  From a writing / literary scholarship perspective, this one definitely deserves 5 stars…but at the same time, from a reading experience (unpleasant) and "how did this book make me feel" (frustrated and miserable) perspective, my irritability with all the characters and not being able to stand any of them definitely give me pause.  In the end, I decided to go with the "happy medium" of 3.5 stars.   I'm pretty sure I won't re-read this on my own accord like I do with Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre (speaking of which, for some reason, people like to compare both novels as in a similar vein — a sentiment I vehemently disagree with, but that's a whole other topic altogether). If circumstances require me to reference Wuthering Heights in the future, I'll probably just skim it so I can avoid the torture of having to endure these frustrating characters again.

Review: Jane Eyre (by Charlotte Brontë)

My Rating:  5 stars

Catch-up review #4

Charlotte Bronte's most famous novel Jane Eyre is one of those brilliantly written classics that never fails to leave me in a state of awe, no matter how familiar I am with the story and its characters.  Indeed, I've re-read this novel too many times to count over the past couple decades, yet upon each re-read, I either come away with some detail that I didn't notice in prior read-throughs, or I'm drawn to a different nuance in the narrative that shifts my interpretation of the text in certain aspects.  This time around, re-reading the novel in a group setting (for one of my literature classes) enhanced my reading experience in a profound way – so much so that, weeks later, I'm still thinking about some of the in-depth discussions we had on various topics, from the themes, symbolism, motifs, to the story structure and masterful writing.  

This is a novel that's powerful and poignant and upon each re-read, it has the ability to make me feel as though I'm on an emotional roller coaster ride, experiencing the ups and downs of Jane's life as though I were right there beside her (and the ending moves me to tears EVERY.SINGLE.TIME).  Most significantly, it's not often that I encounter a novel where I feel every element (from the writing to the characterization to the execution of the story, etc.) is done pretty much flawlessly – well, this novel definitely occupies one of the top spots on my "epitome of perfection" list.

Unlike my other reviews, I intend to keep this one relatively short — partly because this novel has been so widely read and studied (and everyone knows the story already) that I feel there's nothing really I can say in a review that will add much to the conversation (or do justice to the brilliance of the novel).  With that said though, there's actually a personal reason why Jane Eyre has particular meaning for me.  The first time I read the novel was back in junior high, when it was assigned reading in my English class, alongside another famous novel:  Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice.   I was already an avid reader at the time, but mostly of books that I chose myself for "leisure" reading; in essence, these two novels would be my first true exposure to "classics" — but unfortunately I had heard so many "horror stories" about what the experience of reading classics would be like (ie: boring, irrelevant, too daunting, etc..) that I was honestly a bit put off.  But I persisted of course, and ended up falling in love with both novels — so much so that they (both novels) instilled in me a subsequent love for studying classics, but more importantly, they ignited the spark in me that made me realize I wanted to pursue writing creatively.  To this latter point, after reading both novels, I was inspired to try writing a short story that combined elements from both (which, to my surprise, ended up winning a writing contest that year).  Since then, both JE and P&P have become mainstays in my life — two novels that I re-read consistently and will forever remain "favorites of all time" for me.

Review: The Joy Luck Club (by Amy Tan)

My Rating:  5 stars

Catch up review #3

I read The Joy Luck Club for the first time many many years ago, when I was a teenager in high school.  At the time, despite my shared background with the characters in the interconnected stories (the "Americanized" daughter of Chinese immigrant parents), I was too young to fully understand the significance of the book from a cultural perspective.  Re-reading this book now, as an adult, is a completely different experience for me, in large part due to the insights that I've gained from the 4 decades I've spent (and continue to spend) navigating my cultural identity. 

Consisting of 16 interconnected stories narrated alternately by 4 pairs of Chinese mothers and their Chinese-American daughters, Amy Tan's debut novel is a powerful exploration of the struggle between the mothers and daughters to relate to and understand each other amongst the cultural and generational disparities that define their relationships.  As I mentioned earlier, reading The Joy Luck Club this time around felt very different from when I did so in my youth — in addition to picking up on nuances with language that I didn't notice previously, most significant was the resonance I felt in the experiences of the various characters. Not only did I recognize aspects of myself in each of the daughters, I also recognized the struggles  in each of their relationships with their mothers — relationships fraught with misunderstandings, communication issues, unspoken hurt and pain, defiant silences, etc., yet ultimately rooted in love and the unbreakable bonds of family.  Each story had a familiar experience or feeling that I recognized and related to.  In the story "Without Wood," for example, I understood exactly where Rose was coming from when she kept hesitating time and time again to tell her mother An-Mei about her impending divorce because she was trying to avoid the criticism, judgment, and unwanted advice that was sure to follow her revelation (avoiding criticism from our mothers is pretty much a way of life for many Chinese daughters). The story "Two Kinds" brought tears to my eyes because I understood acutely the sense of failure that comes with not living up to my mother's hope and expectations (not to mention the argument about obedience and the expectations of a Chinese daughter that Jing-Mei has with her mother Suyuan echoes ones I've had in the past with my mom).  In the story "Rules of the Game," I commiserated with Waverly when her attempt to rebuke and defy her mother leads to her getting the silent treatment (which is something I've experienced countless times growing up). These were just a few examples among many.

But it wasn't just the daughters' experiences that I related to — the stories told from the mothers' perspectives were also profound in the way they provided clarity to some of the cultural circumstances that informed the mothers' lives, which in turn, affected their behaviors toward their daughters.  In these stories, I was able to recognize some of my own mother's experiences as well as things she's told me in the past that, at the time, I may not have understood the significance — these stories then, had the effect of helping me reflect and make better sense of things. 

Aside from being able to resonate with the characters' experiences and feelings on a personal level, I also appreciated coming across so many cultural references in the book that I grew up hearing about — a few examples: the Moon Lady story, the tale of Old Mr. Chou (I was also told the tale when I was a kid), the superstition about rice husbands (this was a huge one in my family), the historical details about China from some of the mothers' stories, etc.

With all that said though, the biggest thing that sets this book apart from so many others about the Chinese-American experience is the writing.  Tan writes in a way that, on the surface, appears simple and straightforward, but when you look deeper, there is a masterful complexity to it that, quite frankly, blows my mind.  In my previous review of Tan's novel The Kitchen God's Wife, I touched on how brilliantly she uses the mechanics of language to create nuance and meaning — this is certainly the case here as well.  At the same time, Tan's writing is also thoughtful, meticulous, and sincere — all qualities that, to me, are absolutely necessary when it comes to books (and stories) about cultural experiences.

I'm usually not a huge re-reader, especially nowadays when I have so many books I haven't yet read that I actually want to read.  But some books are worth taking the time to re-read —The Joy Luck Club is definitely one of them.  

Review: Sense and Sensibility (by Jane Austen)

My Rating:  5 stars

I know it's been awhile since I've posted a review.  This is mostly due to being busy with work and school, resulting in me falling behind on stuff.  I've definitely been continuing to read (quite a lot actually), but haven't been able to find the time to write reviews on everything I've read the past couple weeks. I'm aiming to catch up though, and hopefully I can get back to my previous consistency in terms of writing and posting about the books I've read (that's the goal at least).

So with that said, here's my first "catch-up" review.  I had mentioned a little while back ago that I'm currently taking a course on Jane Austen, which I'm elated about, as it has given me the excuse I needed to read/re-read all her works.  I finished Sense and Sensibility a few weeks ago and while this was technically a re-read for me, it was so long ago since I first read it that I honestly couldn't remember much from it.  Fortunately, as I started re-reading, things started coming back to me about the plot and the characters.  Of course, with this being Jane Austen, there's no doubt that I enjoyed reading this one — the writing was flawless as expected and the trademark wit and irony were there as well. But compared to my two all-time favorite Austen novels (Persuasion and Pride and Prejudice), one of the things that always bothered me about S&S was the dearth of likable characters (aka characters I felt like I could root for). 

While I didn't dislike Elinor and Marianne (the main heroines) per se, I also didn't really feel anything for them either.  Elinor came across as way too uptight for most of the story, plus I thought the way she was always so insistently devoted to Edward Ferrars (a man who didn't really have anything to recommend him, in my opinion) was bizarre (and frustrating). Marianne I felt was a bit too over-the-top at times with her behavior (which I know was part of the point of the story but still…) and we don't really get to see her true character come out, which I thought was a shame.  Edward was a nice guy, but as I mentioned earlier, he was kind of useless for most of the story. Colonel Brandon was probably the only one out of the main characters that I liked well enough to want to root for.  Outside of these 4 (and the villain character Willoughby), most of the other side characters were either mean, vain, selfish, arrogant, self-serving, crude, silly, stupid, or a combination thereof (Fanny Dashwood was the worst in my opinion: I'm still fuming about that conversation she has with her husband at the beginning of the novel…).

My annoyances with the characters aside, S&S is still a brilliantly written, complex novel with so many endlessly debatable topics (i.e.: the idea of each sister embodying sense versus sensibility or both attributes at once is something we could probably debate forever) — the complexity of the writing alone is well worth 5 stars.  Reading the novel in a group setting and getting the chance to analyze as well as discuss it has been wonderful, so I highly recommend that if possible. 

Review: Persuasion (by Jane Austen)

My Rating:  5 stars

I read Persuasion for the first time back in high school and it quickly became my second favorite of Jane Austen's novels.  In my past reviews, I've talked about my love for Pride and Prejudice and while that has been (and continues to be) my favorite Austen novel, Persuasion is not too far behind it.  That being said, I have actually not re-read Persuasion as often over the years as I have P&P (which I will explain why a in a bit), so when I found out I would get a chance to re-read the novel again for one of the classes I'm taking, I was ecstatic (though the "literature nerd" in me would force me to admit that part of the excitement had to do with getting to deep dive into a classic again — something I hadn't done in a long time).  While I relished the opportunity to get reacquainted with all the characters in here (I've always liked the supporting characters in this story more than the ones in P&P), I was especially looking forward to experiencing Anne Elliot and Captain Wentworth's love story again.  

For me, Persuasion has always been the most moving and most emotionally resonant of Austen's novels, and this most recent re-read only served to reinforce that fact.  Out of all of Austen's heroines, Anne Elliot is the one I find most relatable in terms of personality, comportment, feelings, thoughts, actions, and overall experiences she goes through.  Unlike the other Austen heroines, Anne is the loneliest and most isolated in that she doesn't have anyone around her who truly understands her, or who she can confide in or talk through her feelings with.  Her family (specifically her useless and vain father Sir Walter and her older sister Elizabeth) take her for granted — they never listen to what she has to say, her opinions are never regarded for anything (even though she is the most sensible one in her family), and she is pretty much treated as invisible (most of the time, Anne's father and sister don't even remember that she is in the room).  Even though she has a close relationship with Lady Russell, who is like a mother to her and advises/mentors her on all matters in a way that (usually) has her best interests in mind, at the end of the day, Lady Russell does not truly understand Anne's heart (a fact that Anne thankfully is not blind to).  While the Musgroves (her sister Mary's in-laws and family) are kind to Anne and it can even be said that they adore her (they definitely like her more than Mary), they also don't really "know" her; in a way, Anne's relationship with the Musgroves can be viewed in her "usefulness" to them — as a patient listener to their problems, as a fixer when issues arise, as a companion for her sister Mary when she gets in one of her exasperatingly whiny moods, as a caretaker for her sister's children, and as a friend who is always willing to be of help (though they are definitely more of a "family" to her than her own father and older sister). Anne's internal suffering, regret, longing, and whatever feelings she has overall about anything (especially her feelings about Wentworth) are mostly overlooked by those around her.  I resonate so deeply with Anne because so many of my experiences mirror hers (i.e.: not having anyone around who truly understands me, the feelings of loneliness and isolation, the feelings of regret and being resigned to fading into the background and finding ways to make myself useful to others,  etc).   Because of this personal connection that I feel to Anne, I'm constantly rooting for her throughout the story and of course, rejoicing with her when she finally gets her wish and is united with the man she loves in the end.

Even though I'm already familiar with the story and characters to the point that I already know what's coming, I can't help feeling a little emotional each time I re-read Persuasion — though in a way, I guess this is to be expected given that this is the most melancholic of Austen's novels as well as the one with the least amount of her signature wit and humor. This is actually one of the reasons why I don't re-read this one as often, as it admittedly leaves me feeling a bit melancholic myself afterwards (though another reason is because this was the last novel that Austen completed before she died, which always makes me a little sad when I think about it).  With that said, I also feel that this is the most beautifully written of Austen's novels — whether in its prose and language, story and character development, pacing, artistry, etc., there seems to be a level of maturity with this book that we don't see in her previous works.

Those who've never read Austen before often ask which of her novels they should start with — the most popular answer, of course, is usually Pride and Prejudice (and yes, I actually would recommend that one too).  But Persuasion is also a great choice (and it also has the advantage of being much shorter than P&P, so probably a quicker read).  Ideally though, if you are able to read both, that would be my ultimate recommendation!

P.S.: Please don't get me started on the recent Netflix adaptation of Persuasion.  All I'm going to say is that I lean more toward the "purist" camp when it comes to book adaptations, which should tell you all you need to know regarding how I felt about that particular adaptation…

Review: Emma (by Jane Austen)

My Rating:  5 stars

I've been in a nostalgic mood lately and felt compelled to revisit some of the entertainment that had given me so much joy in my youth. Back during my school days, I was always an avid reader who pretty much read everything under the sun and never had a preference for any particular author or book.  That all changed when I read Pride and Prejudice for the first time in eighth grade and fell in love with Jane Austen's unique sense of humor as well as writing style.  Up to that point, I had already read a fair share of "classic" novels, but it wasn't until I encountered Austen's work for the first time that I realized reading classics could actually be so much fun.  Austen was the first author I remember publicly declaring as a favorite (to the point that I was nicknamed "Austen fangirl" throughout junior high and high school).  While my "favorites" list has expanded to include plenty of other authors over the past three decades, Austen has remained, without a doubt, at the very top of that list (a position that I don't foresee ever changing).

So I guess it should come as no surprise that, to satisfy the nostalgic itch to re-immerse myself in Austen's world, I decided to enroll in a class about Jane Austen  that I had come across recently.  The first book we explored in class was Emma, the "comedy of manners" that happened to be one of the few Austen works that I had never read in its entirety.  Reading Emma for the first time was a delight!  Of course, it was very different from P&P (which will always be my all-time favorite Austen work), especially with its focus more on language and prose than plot.  Also, in another departure from P&P, the main characters here (including our main "heroine" Emma Woodhouse) were less likable, and could even be considered "annoying" at certain points — but yet, despite their flaws, you can't help rooting for them by the end of the story.   For me, this is one of the brilliant aspects of Austen's writing — the way she is able to make her characters memorable to the reader, even the unlikable ones.

There is so much that could be said about this book, especially in comparisons to Austen's other works. This, for me, is one of the joys of studying an author in depth and seeing how their style evolves (or doesn't) across their works.  One of the things that has always stood out to me about Austen's works is how each re-read of the same novel still manages to feel different — for example, you catch things that you might not have noticed the first go-round, or some scenes / dialogue take on a different meaning upon re-reading.  In that sense, Austen's writing is nuanced, yet not complex to the point that it it takes a lot of brainpower and deep thinking to understand what she is trying to say.  While I don't plan to re-read Emma any time soon (mostly because I have an overflowing TBR stack that I need to get through), I am looking forward to staying in Austen's world a little longer by exploring (and in some cases, actually re-reading) some of her other works in the coming weeks.

Review: The Remains of the Day (by Kazuo Ishiguro)

My Rating: 4.5 stars rounded up to 5 stars

I struggle to write this review because honestly, I'm at a loss for words at the moment.  So perhaps let me backtrack and talk first about why I chose to read this book in the first place.  One of my Goodreads challenges this year is the A to Z Author Challenge where I need to read a book by an author whose (last) name starts with each letter of the alphabet.  The last letter I needed in order to complete this challenge was the letter "I" and after changing my choice a few times, I decided to read a work by an author I had heard plenty about but up to this point hadn’t had the opportunity to experience for myself yet.  Of course, that author is none other than our newly crowned Nobel Laureate, Kazuo Ishiguro.  I’ve known about his masterpiece The Remains of the Day since the 90s and I’m pretty sure I even saw the movie way back when too, but I had never read the book, primarily because it had never been assigned as required reading in any of the literature classes I had taken back then (those were the days where rarely anyone read classics for leisure and so most exposure to classics was through school/classroom setting).  It has been nearly two decades since I’ve been out of the "school" environment and now I can finally say that I’ve read this book – most importantly though, I didn’t just read the book, I actually enjoyed it too!

I’m actually not sure what else I can say about this book that others haven’t already said.  Beautiful, wonderful, brilliant, subtle, multi-layered, philosophical, thought-provoking...these are just some of the words I’ve heard used to describe this book and I absolutely agree with all of them!  Ishiguro is a masterful writer and the way he was able to render the narrative so beautifully, yet subtly, with everything that was not said being equally as important as what was said – very few authors have the ability to utilize language in such a way as to make a story so philosophical and subdued in nature still be so enthralling.  This book definitely left me with much food for thought, so much so in fact that I’m still kind of speechless, hence the rambling nature of this review, as I really don’t know where to start in terms of putting down my thoughts, so I think I will keep it brief and instead just encourage everyone to read this book.  I also think this is a book that needs to be read more than once -- slowly, thoughtfully -- in order to truly understand and appreciate its brilliance.  For me, this was an excellent read with which to end the year (and also complete my challenge) but no doubt I will be coming back to this book again some time in the near future and hopefully at that time, the words won’t escape me again and I will be better able to express the myriad of thoughts going through my mind after finishing this wonderful masterpiece!

Review: The Good Earth (by Pearl S. Buck)

My Rating: 4 stars

Pearl S. Buck's The Good Earth is one of those famous classics that I should have read in school but never did so I'm reading it for the first time now since it was chosen as a book of the month for one of my book clubs. I will admit that I was a bit apprehensive about reading this book at first, as I had heard about the long-running controversy over Buck's credibility writing this book as a Westerner with no ties to China or Chinese culture other than having lived there for a period of time. As someone who is already very familiar with Chinese culture (partly because of my Chinese heritage but also because I majored in Asian studies in college with an emphasis in Chinese history and literature), I was concerned about how the story would be told from an authenticity perspective and in a way, I was preparing myself to be critical. Now after having read the book, I am happy to see that Buck actually got quite a lot of things right in her portrayal of what life was like for a Chinese farmer and his family back during the pre-revolutionary era. Buck covers a lot of ground with her fictional story of Wang Lung, his wife O-lan, their family, and the significance of the land (the aptly titled "good earth"), bringing to light many of the social issues that were prevalent back in those days (some of which are still relevant even today). For me, the attitudes toward women as well as the class differences between the rich and the poor were what stood out the most and I can definitely see how the realistic rendering of these issues by Buck through the cycle of Wang Lung's life would've made this a difficult read for some. I myself sympathized greatly with O-lan and despite already knowing what I do about the culture and that it was considered "normal" for women to be treated that way back in those days, it was still heartbreaking to read.

There is so much worth talking about in this book that I don't think I would be able to do any justice to it in such a short review. The story itself seems relatively simple but is superbly told and while most of the characters were not likable, they were realistically drawn and were instrumental in giving us a glimpse into the behaviors and attitudes of that time period. Reading this book brought back memories of my previous trips to China (the most recent one being less than 10 years ago) where I had witnessed first-hand some of the customs and superstitions that were brought up in this book. On one of the trips, we visited a few villages in remote parts of China and I remember how blown away I felt seeing locals engaging in customs and practices that we would find abhorrent and unacceptable, yet for them, it is the "normal way of life" – as natural to them as breathing or eating. It also humbled me to see the conditions that many of these locals lived in – multiple family members crammed into small huts not unlike the ones Wang Lung and his family lived in during the time when they were in the city begging for food – simple dwellings where to have a separate "bathroom" (if you could call a hole in the ground surrounded by 3 long wooden boards a bathroom) with a door on it is considered a "luxury." It reminded me again just how much we take for granted given all the modern conveniences and comforts we have. Of course, the above is just a small portion of the big picture and it can be argued that the actual number of people living in such conditions is probably insignificant given China's vast population and the fact that much of China is truly modernized now (in some cases, maybe even more so than some first world cities). It would be unfair to paint the entire country under the same brush and there is no doubt that China has undergone sweeping changes in the past century that should not be overlooked or forgotten.  However that doesn't change the reality that, in some parts of the country, life truly is difficult as it was portrayed in the story.

I found out recently that this book is actually part of a trilogy. I'm not a fan of book series in general and to be honest, I feel that this book worked well as a stand alone, but since I liked this first one well enough, I will probably read the other 2 books as well some time in the future. Hopefully the sequels are as good as the original.

Review: The Handmaid's Tale (by Margaret Atwood)

 My Rating:  4 stars

Up until this book got chosen as a ‘book of the month’ for one of my book clubs, I was pretty sure that I was one of the few people left on this planet who hadn’t yet read this award-winning classic by master storyteller Margaret Atwood. Personally, I really had no interest reading this book, as it’s not a genre I like, plus I already knew from everything I had heard about the book that it wouldn’t be an enjoyable read for me. However, I still decided to give it a try, as I knew I would never read this book otherwise so might as well do it now. While I’m glad I finally read this book and I completely understand why it shot back up to such great popularity in recent months given our country’s current political climate, I have to say that this book did not affect me on as personal a level as it might have for others. What I mean by this is that whatever opinions I had on politics, religion, feminism, marriage, etc. did not change after reading this book. I guess the best way to put it is that, knowing what I did about the book prior to reading it, I approached this book from as neutral a standpoint as possible – basically, as purely the work of fiction that it was.

I definitely agree with those who have said that this book is disturbing and unsettling but at the same time thought-provoking and cleverly written. Even though I didn’t enjoy reading this book one bit, I do respect its literary merit, which is why I gave it an absolutely well-deserved 4 star rating. While it didn’t change my opinion or perspective on anything, this book did make me think and wonder beyond what I normally would with most books. Also, Atwood’s stunningly detailed descriptions of everything made it impossible not to feel as though we (as the readers) were physically there with Offred, witnessing and experiencing what she did. Not everyone is able to pull off this type of vivid description style without making it feel unnatural and laborious – Atwood is definitely at a different level when it comes to this style of writing, which is why I’m not surprised that she pulled it off so well with this book.

Since I feel like there is nothing I can really say about this book that others haven’t already said (and better than I have I should add), I am going to make this review short so as not to waste people’s time reading it. The only other comment I would like to make is that I actually listened to the audio version of this book (mostly because I got the Audible download for free with my Kindle Unlimited version) and while I felt that Claire Danes did an excellent job narrating the story, the audio version just didn’t really work for me. Nothing to do with this particular audio version per se, it’s just that I’ve never been a fan of audio books in general and despite this one being well done and near perfect on audio, the whole ‘start and stop’ process, especially at places in the story that were mid-sentence or mid-paragraph, made the reading experience too tedious for me. In hindsight, it would have been better for me to actually “read” the book rather than listen to the audio – I think I might have gotten more out of the experience if I had.