Joseph Conrad - Heart of Darkness
One of Conrad's short stories I had to read for my English Literature course. We also had to express our opinion about it in about 100 words and give it a rating. Here's mine:
I liked Heart Of Darkness because it is both a very dark and a very real story. Not only because of its exotic location or because it has part of Belgium’s past as its theme, but mainly because Conrad managed to create an atmosphere that constantly sucks you into the story. Various elements contribute to this atmosphere: the fact that the story is told by another – mysterious – narrator, the quest for Kurtz and Marlow’s eagerness to meet him, the vivid jungle descriptions, etc. Even when Kurtz has been found and the story is nearly finished, Conrad manages to keep your attention by making you wonder – along with Marlow himself – how he will deal with Kurtz’s death and how he will be able to pick up his normal life after these morbid last words.
(For the record, I am from Belgium, that's why I mentioned it in the review :). Not that I was very proud of it when reading the story...)
Royal Charles by Antonia Fraser
I finished Royal Charles by Antonia Fraser on Sunday. It's a history, so I'm not sure if it's okay that I review it on here. But I enjoyed it enough that I wanted other readers to know a little about it in case they might be interested. Please let me know if I shouldn't post about historical biographies or literary biographies because I tend to read both.
Royal Charles is about King Charles II of Great Britian. I knew nothing about Charles II other than he was Mary Queen of Scots great grandson, and what little they show of him in The Libertine (which I didn't take as fact because it was a movie about Rochester, not Charles II). It was a very interesting read. I had no problems even though I know nothing about the period. Fraser did an excellent job of explaining all the politics. I found the whole Glorious Revolution, followed by the Restoration to be most interesting and surprising.
Often when I read historical biographies I find that the writer obviously was biased and had a hidden agenda (either to vilify or sanctify the subject). Fraser did a good job of stating what is known, then listing her entrepretation, without it sounding like she had an agenda, or that her entrepretations were set in stone and must be the only way to entrepret events. I finished the book having enjoyed every single page, with a new knowledge of the period and of Charles II. I've read historical biographies on Henry VIII and Elizabeth I, but I found Royal Charles better written and more interesting than the other two.
I found Charles II likeable as both a King and a man, though I did not see him as perfect. This has never happened to me before when reading a biography of a King or Queen. I'm usually able to understand why they make the decisions they make as a ruler, but I can't justify their actions as a person. Or I understand that they made the best decisions as a person, but not the best decision for their position in their country. Charles did an excellent balancing act (being a good ruler, while being a decent man). Not to mention his balancing acts between the Netherlands and France, French money and Parlimentary power, and Monmouth and James II. I really respected his treatment of the Catholics. That is one of my favorite things about his great grandmother, Mary Queen of Scots. I'll never understand why no one was allowed religious freedom for so long. And the people seemed so changeable. I don't know if I would have returned for the Restoration, or stuck it out so long with such a fickle people and such an uncooperative and manipulative parliment. I honestly think I would've given up, but Charles never did.
9 out of 10
Courtny
Summer in Baden-Baden by Leonid Tsypkin
Of all literary techniques, stream of consciousness is the one I have the most problem with. Unless the subject matter and author combine and try damn hard to catch my imagination, it’s all just going to wash over me, however critically acclaimed the work may be. Leaving writers like Joyce, Woolf and Sebald all firmly labelled in my mind as worthy but dull.
Thankfully, experimentation in some of his books by one of my favourite authors, Bohumil Hrabal, persuaded me that my aversion might be down to content rather than style, and lead me to take a risk on ‘Summer at Baden-Baden’ by Leonid Tsypkin. This is a joy of a book and one where the technique is used not as a means to an end, or a flamboyant literary example of the Emperor’s new clothes, but as an integral part of the story.
‘Summer in Baden-Baden’ is a bibliophiles book, and one in particular that should be read by every fan of Dostoyevski. Tsypkin was himself a dedicated admirer of the Russian master and the narrative of the story encompasses and links them both.
The book is framed by a train journey Tsypkin took in the late 1970’s to St Petersburg. A trip to visit and photograph various locations from Dostoyevski’s life and books, in particular ‘Crime and Punishment’, and one that he hoped would bring him closer to understanding the author. As Tsypkin travels he reads from a gift his Aunt has given him: the diary of Dostoyevski’s second wife Anna, covering the period in 1867 when they lived in Baden-Baden.
It is here that the book takes off, as the text flows from first to third person narratives and from the point of view of Tsypkin, Dostoyevski and Anna. The switching of POV and narrative style allows the characters of the married couple to be explored from inside and out in a way that Dostoyevski himself would have been proud of. The changes are made seamlessly, often mid sentence, but you quickly get into stride with the tempo of the writing, to the point were the style of prose seems the most natural way of telling the story. It’s effortless and breathtaking at the same time, and full credit needs to be given to Roger and Angela Keys for their wonderful translation.
Dostoyevski’s battle with his addiction to gambling takes centre stage for much of the time. It reveals many of his flaws: his weakness, obsessive-compulsive behaviour, and mood swings that lead him to push away those closest to him. So whilst at times you can hear echoes of a number of Dostoyevski’s works in the text, it is ‘The Gambler’ you are most reminded of, to the point where ‘Summer at Baden-Baden’ seems like a shadowy ‘Double’ of that book.
The relationship between the ever-faithful Anna and her husband is used as a mirror for one of the major themes of the book. How can Tsypkin, a Jew, reconcile his admiration for Dostoyevski with Dostoyevski’s attitude towards his faith? It’s a question that is touched upon throughout the book, often obliquely referenced, until Tsypkin finally reaches St Petersburg where he directly and honestly addresses it.
As I mentioned before, this is a book for fans of Dostoyevski, and some knowledge of his work, life and times are needed to get the most from it. Some of the nuance of meaning from his meetings with various other Russian writers and the historical accuracy of the events described were a bit beyond my knowledge. But that didn’t effect my enjoyment.
Special mention also to the 2001 edition which included an excellent introduction by Susan Sontag and reproduction of Tsypkin’s photographs from his trip to St Petersburg. Want to see the building where the moneylender in Crime and Punishment lived? It’s in here. Although to be honest it looks like it could be from any of the modern day Eastern European cities I’ve visited.
But whether you regard this book as a fantasy, a fictionalised documentary or an extended piece of fan mail is ultimately unimportant. ‘Summer in Baden-Baden’ stands alone as an exquisite masterpiece, and Tsypkin an author worthy of sitting on the shelf next to Dostoyevsky without fear of being out of place.
K-S
The Engineer of Human Souls by Josef Skvorecky
I love Czech literature. Writers from that region have a wonderful ability to talk about nothing and everything at the same time, all wrapped up in a warm dark humour that reveals a great love of life. Perhaps it’s a twentieth century tradition that stems from the writing of the humorist Jaraslav Hasek and his greatest gift to Czech literature, ‘The good soldier Svejk’? Perhaps the origin is earlier and beyond my knowledge? But the influence can be seen in the work of Ivan Klima, Karel Capek, Bohumal Hrabal, and probably countless more I’ve never even heard of. I’ve always got half an eye out looking for writers in a similar vein, a search that somehow led me to miss what was already under my nose.
‘The Engineer of Human Souls’ by Josef Skvorecky has been sitting in my to-be-read pile for some time, probably a couple of years. I’d bought it on recommendation, but the ominous sounding title (a reference to Stalin’s opinion of a writers function) plus a hefty 571 page count, well above my normal comfort zone, had seen me passing it by for newer purchases on a fairly regular basis. And what a glorious book I was ignoring.
The story revolves around Danny, a jazz loving writer from Czechoslovakia, living in exile in Canada and working as a university lecturer in literature. The parallels with Skvorecky’s own life are very strong, to the point where the book comes close to a Japanese I-novel in style. The narrative shifts between Danny’s current life amongst the Czech émigré in Canada and significant periods in his past, all neatly tied together with letters from those he knew from his homeland who have taken refuge in other parts of the world. As the story progresses, we learn the different paths chosen by Danny and his friends during wartime, and how their lives pan out. Much is revealed as the characters live through ever changing times: democracy, Nazi rule, communism and for the lucky ones who escape, exile.
The subtitle to ‘The Engineer of Human Souls’ is: An entertainment on the old themes of life, women, fate, dreams, the working class, secret agents, love and death. But that reveals only the tip of this book’s iceberg. How a seemingly meandering tale, with a fairly basic plot can say so much is a testament to the skill of Skvorecky.
Familiar Czech literary obsessions of food, wine, women and song make regular appearances, and at times Danny’s laid back attitude to life is reminiscent of the ‘good soldier’ himself. But there is much more under the surface. Bravery, cowardice, motivation and duty are put under the microscope as we learn of Danny’s wartime experiences working in a Messerchmitt factory, and his flirtations with the resistance movement. Flirtations that are fed more by desires towards impressionable young girls than desire to do the right thing. This proves to be an enduring attraction to Danny, as his older self becomes ever closer to a young student in his class.
Life under Nazi rule, the communist regime, and abroad as an exile are subtly compared. Contrast skilfully made between the younger man living under oppression and fighting against it in his own way and the older wiser man amused by the attraction of totalitarian states to those who have no experience, or real understanding, of them.
This is a bibliophile’s book as well. The discussions Danny has with his students’ flow throughout the story, and literary references abound. The book is even divided into seven chapters named after famous authors. The result is a book that moves to the love of literature, as well as the love of life.
I’m still undecided if this book has crossed the line to becoming a masterpiece or not, I need a little longer to mull that over. But it is a fantastic read: warm but cynical, naïve but knowing, straightforward but complex, a book full of contradictions, but one that never stops being a joy.
