37) An Abundance of Katherines 38) The Well of Loneliness

37) An Abundance of Katherines by John Green

Already a fan of The Fault in Our Stars, I had been pre-warned that the rest of John Green's books weren't as good, and I have to agree. I'm sure sure whether it's the subject matter; a book about a girl with cancer lends itself better to being emotionally profound than a book about a guy who's dated a whole series of girls with the same names, but I definitely connected with this book a lot less than TFIOS. You could also argue that that's due to there being a male protagonist rather than a female one, but having a male protagonist didn't stop me from connecting with Christopher in Haddon's The Curious Incident of The Dog in the Night-time, who in fact shares a lot of traits with Colin, the protagonist of this book, so I strongly suspect of having Asperger's Syndrome. While I lacked a personal connection with the story, I did enjoy it a lot, and found both Colin and Hassan amusing and interesting characters, although I was less convinced by Lindsey. I enjoyed the way in which the plot slowly revealed Colin's back story with all the different Katherines, which developed along with his "theorem" for predicting relationships, but that doesn't stop me from finding it highly unrealistic that 1) Colin would have had so many girlfriends (especially given his dedication to improving his mind, which seems to leave little time for other things) and 2) that they would have all been called Katherine. Overall I recommend this book if you enjoyed The Fault in Our Stars, but don't expect it to stay with you in the same way.


38) The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall

This is another book on my course "the Girl in the Book". For a book written in the 1920s, I was surprised at how candid this novel was about lesbianism, or "inversion" as it was then called, though I think that rather than being a lesbian novel, it could nowadays been seen as a transgender one, as Stephen repeatedly wishes to be a man (and yes, her parents chose to call her Stephen, even though she was a girl, don't ask me why) when she's younger, and aspires to look like one when she is older. I think that if given the option to transition then she probably would have. Even though there's nothing more explicit than"and that night, they were not divided" in the novel, it was judged obscene by a British court and the publisher was forced to have it printed France and secretly shipped over to England. Just as Stephen was censored by her family and the society in which she lived, Hall was censored for daring to broach such a controversial subject. This makes me realise how lucky we are these days (in the UK at least) to live in a society where there is freedom of speech and people can access all the information they want at the touch of a button.

35) La Symphonie Pastorale 36) My Ántonia

35) La Symphonie Pastorale by André Gide

Another book from my course on blindness and vision, this presents a very different perspective on blindness than Husson's Reflections. Most notably,  it is told from the pastor's point of view, so we do not get direct insight into Gertrude's mind as we do with Husson, instead we "see" blindness through the pastor's eyes, as he models Gertrude into his "blind ideal".  As with all texts exploring blindness, there are ethical implications to the fact that Gide (himself sighted) has chosen to use it in his plot. I cannot help thinking that much as the pastor manipulates Gertrude, Gide manipulates blindness in order to further his narrative. However, interestingly, the operation that restores Gertrude's sight is ultimately presented as something negative that should not have been taken for granted as having a positive effect on Gertude's life, thus undermining our preconceived notions about blindness and vision: blindness is not necessarily a bad thing, and those with fully functioning eyes  can be just as "blind" (I've put this in speech-marks as using blindness as a negative metaphor is not constructive) as those who cannot see. Indeed, this text presents a theme that has resonated to a greater or lesser extent with all of the texts that we've studied so far: it is not blind people that need to be cured, but society. 



36) My Ántonia by  Willa Cather

This is an intriguing novel  about growing up. Though it is part of my "The Girl in the Book" course, it is told through Jim Burden's eyes, and so we get very little interiority from Ántonia, or "Tony". Their relationship is quite ambiguous: Jim shows little interest in pursuing a romantic relationship with Ántonia  while growing up, and yet tells her children at the end that he loved her. This ambivalence could be interpreted as a representation of Cather's own feelings; now publicly acknowledged as a lesbian, some critics see Jim as representing Cather in the novel, and thus his strange relationship with Ántonia is a product of Cather's fear of stigmitisation. Whether or not this is the case, it is not something that I picked up on myself when reading the novel; I was more interested in the lacunae of the text, which led me to believe that Jim is an unreliable narrator, as he seems to omit some things, even to himself.     

33) Measure for Measure 34) Reflections: The Life and Writings of a Young Blind Woman in Post-Revolutionary France

I'm still catching up on my back-log, so expect multiple posts in the next few days :)


33 ) Measure for Measure by William Shakespeare

Out of the three problem plays that I've studied this year, Measure for Measure is my favourite. To have such a strictly moral man turn to the very vice that he condemns makes for a very interesting plot, and the disguised duke creates a pleasing, and sometimes amusing, dramatic irony. None of the characters are completely black or white; even Isabella, the most innocent of all, lies in order to achieve her ends. This play, like All's Well that Ends Well, presents is ethically problematic, as the bed-trick, which lacks informed consent, and would nowadays be considered as rape, is presented as a neat solution in order to make Angelo do his duty. While I definitely think that Angelo should be made to fulfill his betrothal, I don't agree with the way that Isabella and Mariana go about it, and yet I can see no other solution that would bind him to the latter and save the brother of the former. I can see why it's classed as a "problem play"...

On a side note, I think that the cover of the copy I have (see picture) is very clever, as it combines the sexual imagery of a keyhole (representing Isabella) and the Christian symbol of the cross (representing Angelo), and shows the problematic disparity that defines the play.




34) Reflections: The Life and Writings of a Young Blind Woman in Post-Revolutionary France by Thérèse- Adèle Husson 

This is another book I've been studying, this time for the module Blindness and Vision in French Culture (the first book we studied for that course, L'aveugle by Maupassant, was a really short story, so I didn't feel I could justify counting it as one of my 500 books). I have to admit that I was a bit pressed for time when I read it originally, and so read it in English (which language students definitely don't do...ever... ^^) However, I have since gone back and read it in French, so I don't feel quite so naughty.
This book gives us a really interesting, and unprecedented, perspective into the mind of a young blind woman in 1825. She writes on subjects such as clothing, animals, people and education, and how all of these are experienced by blind people. while seeming very pious, we do have to bear in mind that Husson wrote her Reflections with the aim of gaining a place at the prestigious Quinze-Vingts Hospital (a hospital for blind people founded in 1260 by Louis XI), and would therefore have been tailoring her writing to please the director. She also directly contravened her views expressed on the marrying of blind people, as she went on o marry a blind man herself, and have children with him. She may have pretended to be against it for the sake of gaining a place at the hospital (which strongly discouraged blind people from marrying), or she may have just changed her mind when she went to Paris and met her future-husband, we will sadly never know.

Overall a really interesting perspective on blindness and the role of both blind people and their friends and family; this text raises some intriguing questions on the appropriateness of the social model of disability, and our ocularcentric view of the world. 

31) Kind of Cruel 32) All's Well That Ends Well

31) Kind of Cruel by Sophie Hannah

The alternating points of view in this thriller come slowly together, revealing the importance of Little Orchard and why four members of her family disappeared one Christmas, only to come back two days later without a word.  Kind, Cruel, Kind of Cruel; the phrase reverberates through the novel, but what does it mean, and why is Amber arrested for saying it? This book is well-crafted and enjoyable to read, if not exactly relaxing. One to take on holiday, rather than late-night literature.






32) All's Well That Ends Well by William Shakespeare

I'd never seen/ read this play before studying it this year, and while not one of my favourite Shakespeare plays, I enjoy the interesting gender dynamics implicated by Helen and Bertram's marriage and the bed trick. It's made me question my ideas on the ethics of deceit  and reconsider class distinctions.Undermining our expectations in many ways, it's easy to see why this is classed as a problem play; even the supposedly happy ending leaves us unsatisfied, as we question Bertram's conditional terms, and his ability to fulfill them. All's well that ends well, the title tells us, but in agreeing with this we are implicated in the characters' deceit and betrayal; can the end really justify the means? 

29) The House of Silk 30) Telling Liddy

29) The House of Silk by Anthony Horowitz

Having recently read a lot of the original Sherlock Holmes collection (before starting this blog), I really enjoyed this book, as it perfectly captures Conan Doyle's narrative style, whilst dealing with a far more controversial subject than any of the other cases. The plot unfolds beautifully, keeping you guessing right until the very end what The House of Silk is, when the disturbing truth comes to light. I recommend this book for fans of Mr Holmes, whether that be of the original stories, any of the plethora of films, or the outstanding BBC series. The game's afoot, if you wish to play...





30) Telling Liddy by Anne Fine

Anne Fine has a disturbing way of getting under your skin; I had to get ride of my copy of The Tulip Touch when I was younger as I found it so unsettling. This book is less obviously sinister, but leads us to a moral dilemma that makes us question ourselves and our family loyalty: what do you do when you hear a shocking rumour about your sister's new boyfriend? Do you tell her and risk ruining your relationship if it isn't true, or do you keep quiet, but feel guilty for not warning her. The dynamic between the four sisters in this book is captivating and uncomfortable; and as the truth slowly comes together, and the sisters' lives fall apart, we feel a sense of voyeurism in observing this family tragedy, and yet we cannot look away.

27) The Kill Order 28) Troilus and Cressida

27) The Kill Order by James Dashner

This book is the prequel to the Maze Runner series, and I really enjoyed reading things from Mark's perspective, and finding out the events that led up to the flare (trying to avoid spoilers here!) There are more female characters in this book, which I appreciated, although the characterisation is slightly two-dimensional in some cases, and the writing style is still a bit clunky. I really enjoyed finding out how everything began though, and am curious about the sequel-to-the-prequel (haha) which should be coming out in 2016. I'm hoping that it focuses on Teresa and Thomas, and their time before the maze.

28) Troilus and Cressida by William Shakespeare

I'm studying this play at uni and I find the re-telling of the Trojan War really interesting, especially as the focus isn't on Paris and Helen, but on Troilus and Cressida. While ultimately unsatisfying (the ending is not at all what we're led to expect, considering the precedent given by Romeo and Juliette and Antony and Cleopatra) the play captures our interest through the intriguing characterisation of the double-faceted Cressida, and the distrustful Troilus. The fact that their roles have already been laid out for them by Chaucer, which the characters predict in saying  'As true as Troilus' and  'as false as Cressid', does not prevent us from bemoaning their bewildering fate. This play can be viewed in turns as a history, a tragedy, and  a comedy; and this problem of genre perfectly compliments its problematic ideology.