Showing posts with label british. Show all posts
Showing posts with label british. Show all posts

Thursday, July 7, 2016

#431 July Fourth- Anthony Doerr


#431 July Fourth- Anthony Doerr

This story was scheduled to come up in the rotation next week when I start a new stack of books, I didn’t look at the titles till I randomly opened this collection, The Shell Collector, this morning. It’d be foolish not to use this for this week. Having already read the title story, as well as one other last year, and his Pulitzer prize winning All The Light We Cannot See, I am already a big fan of Doerr’s writing.

A group of blowhard Americans get drunk with a group of blowhard Brits. Each group bragging of their amazing fishing prowess. So naturally a bet was born.

“There were the standard provocations: tequila, reminders of the Marshall Plan, rudely phrased questions about the queen’s gender and the president’s bedside fancies. It mounted to a challenge, as these things do, and a contest was born. Limeys vs. Yanks. Old World vs. New.”

The team that catches the biggest fish in each continent wins the bet. The losers have to parade naked through Times Square with signs announcing their inadequacies. They will spend a month on each continent, the first is Europe. We see the Americans traipsing around looking for fishing spots. It ends up in a baboonish trail through Belarusian Bison farms, a Slovakian slaughterhouse, Carpathian mountains, and a dried up Lithuanian canal.

Losing horribly and on the brink of embarrassment, the last day is July Fourth. Being mocked by school children as they fish, they finally hook a monster. It’s the largest carp they have ever seen, and it was there’s for the taking. But alas, their camera didn’t work. They would have to kill the fish for proof or let it go and lose the European leg of their bet.


Tuesday, August 18, 2015

#110 Mary Postgate- Rudyard Kipling


#110 Mary Postgate- Rudyard Kipling

England during WWII. The Fowler household is Mrs. Fowler, her son Wynn, and their house maid Mary Postgate. Wynn is training to be a fighter pilot but dies before seeing action. One day a young girl is shot and killed during a German bombing raid. That’s the story.

It’s a very proper English setting telling a very proper English story in a very proper English manner. The characters to my ears seem cold and unsentimental. Her son dies and the Mother doesn’t cry: “It can’t be natural not to cry…I’m so afraid you’ll have a reaction.” But she doesn’t, she just makes sure that Mary systematically takes care of all Wynn’s belongings, mostly burning them. They wonder why he kept old letters from them.

And Mary is a prototypical image of a dutiful English servant:

“Mary was not young, and though her speech was as colorless as her eyes or her hair, she was never shocked.”

Noticing Mary for the first time is 11 years of service as an individual person, Mrs. Fowler asks: “Mary, aren’t you anything except a companion? Would you ever have been anything except a companion?”

To which Mary coolly replies: “No…I don’t imagine I ever should. But I’ve no imagination, I’m afraid.” Fun times!

After witnessing a child die bleeding in the street, her reaction: “One mustn’t let ones mind dwell on these things.”

I can recognize a good story and a talented hand when I read it, but that doesn’t mean I will always enjoy them. There is just something about these old English stories about the lives of high society and their servants that misses me completely. I know I’m showing my ignorance, but this is my blog and I want to be honest.




Sunday, August 9, 2015

#101 Cree Queery and Mysy Drolly- J.M. Barrie


#101 Cree Queery and Mysy Drolly- J.M. Barrie

Some authors excel at realism, writing scenes and phrases that make us relate and feel like the writer and us have experienced life in the same manner. Some authors excel because they possess unreal imaginations. J.M. Barrie is more the latter, having been the famous creator of Peter Pan (as well as--according to Wikipedia-- popularizing the name Wendy).

This tale, although not at fanciful and care-free a the childhood myth, nonetheless taps into Barrie’s ability to tell a good story. Not an altogether happy story, but a touching one.

Cree Queery is a grinder by trade and a grinder by life. “There was a terrible want of spirit about Grinder Queery.” His cross to bear seems to be taking care of poor bed-ridden mother. He gives her half his meals and buys nothing for himself.

“Every one said that Mysy’s death would be a merciful release—every one but Cree.”

It might be a sad life or a grey existence but if it's all you have, live it right. The last 12 years of his life he saved just enough to pay back his last debt. “He paid off all he owed, and so Cree’s life was not, I think a failure.”

Word of the day: Callant- Boy, lad (primarily Scottish)



Thursday, July 30, 2015

#91 A Scandal in Bohemia- Sir Arthur Conan Doyle


#91 A Scandal in Bohemia- Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Yes, this is about Sherlock Holmes, and why not? He was “the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen…” The man who “loathed every form of society with his whole bohemian soul…buried among his old books, and alternating from week to week between cocaine and ambition.” Who wouldn’t want to read a story about Sherlock Holmes?

As with most of the Holmes stories, this one is narrated by his assistant Dr. Watson. This has all the telltale markings of a good Sherlock Holmes mystery, all the intrigue, scandal, blackmail, plot twists, and of course the secret identities that he assumes:

“It was not merely that Holmes changed his costume. His expression, him manner, his very soul seemed to vary with every fresh part he assumes. The stage lost a fine actor, even as science lost an acute reasoned, when he became a specialist in crime.”

The King of Bohemia has had a lurid affair with a woman below his station, Irene Adler. She threatens to make public the affair with proof of a photograph. Retrieving that evidence is Holmes mission. A fantastic series of pranks, and deductive tricks ensues.  In the end, the King is safe from humiliation, but Holmes is bested by the equal mind of Irene. Fun!

Notable Passage: “It is a capital mistake to theorize before one has data.”