The Classics Club Spin #27

It is time for the 27th edition of the Classics Club Spin – List 20 books from my Classics Club TBR, the moderators will pick a random number between 1 - 20, and I then have until August 22^nd to read the corresponding book. 

 

You’re probably wondering why August 22^nd ?

 

In honor of National Pecan Torte Day of course.

 

My spin list

 

 

1. At Play in the Fields of the Lord

2. The Recognitions

3. Portnoy’s Complaint

4. The Adventures of Oliver Twist

5. Death of the Heart

6. The Worm Ouroboros

7. The Magus

8. Foundation

9. Martin Chuzzlewit

10. Dombey and Son

11. Little Dorrit

12. Barnaby Rudge

13. Nightmare Abbey

14. Our Mutual Friend

15. Loving

16. A House for Mr. Biswas

17. Lord Jim

18. Scoop

19. The Silver Sword (Escape from Warsaw)

20. The Maltese Falcon

 

 

I guess I’m hoping for #6. Nothing here I’m dreading though.

Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie (novel #184)

très excellent!

This was my first read in Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot series.

 

Though I agree with my daughter, and must reluctantly assert that this is one of those rare instances where the film is better than the book.

 

It is about murder on a train – the Orient Express of course. As luck or providence should have it, the great Belgian detective happens to be on board, and the situation is further intensified, when the train is stuck in the snow, at some remote spot for several days, meaning no local authorities to investigate. Poirot is engaged by the director of the line to solve the embarrassing murder, which would seem a simple case: there are limited possible suspects, and no means of escape.

 

But of course, it is not simple, and even when Poirot solves “who done it” or qui l'a fait, it is still not so simple.

 

It is one of those maddening dilemmas wherein justice is not served by the law, and the law must be delicately ignored for true justice. This is the part that the recent film does much more artfully than the book. 

 

But the book is still très bien. I will definitely read more by Agatha Christie and more of Hercule Poirot.

 

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

 

 

 

This book satisfies a travel or adventure classic in the Back to the Classics Challenge 2021 challenge.

 

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Six Degrees of Separation: from Eats, Shoots & Leaves to A Tale of Two Cities

Six Degrees of Separation is a monthly meme hosted by Kate @ booksarmyfavouriteandbest. 

 

This month’s chain begins the grammar guide, Eats, Shoots & Leaves. The title of which, is the second-best argument for the Oxford comma. The best argument sentence is: “I’d like to thank my parents, Mother Teresa and the Pope”. I haven’t read Eat, Shoots & Leaves, but I’m familiar, and I’m a big fan of the Oxford comma (never wrong to use it, sometimes horribly wrong if you don’t). I have read the rest of these, and as usual, I am sticking to the classics.

 

The grammar guide let me to the book that breaks all the grammar rules: 

Ulysses by James Joyce. Not a fan of that book, but it led me to another by Joyce, that I found much more accessible.

 

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. And that for obvious reasons, reminds me of:

 

The Portrait of a Lady by Henry James. I’m not a big fan of Henry James either, but I did like this one. And the main character, Isabel Archer, reminds me of an erstwhile book blogger, whom I shall not name, but…she is THE #1 FAN of Margaret Mitchell and…

 

Gone With the Wind, the heroine of which, is of course, Scarlett O’Hara. Perhaps she is an anti-heroine. Regardless, Scarlett reminds me of Becky Sharp from…

 

Vanity Fair. I’m not the only one, there are some who surmise that Becky was in part an inspiration for Scarlett. I did like Vanity Fair very much, and you know who else did? Charles Dickens. In fact, he named one of his children after William Thackeray. So, I’m going with a Dickens novel to wrap this up, but which one? I’ll just go with my favorite, and Dickens’ best…

 

A Tale of Two Cities

 

 

 

And that is how you get from Eats, Shoots and Leaves to A Tale of Two Cities.

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The Loved One by Evelyn Waugh (novel #183)

The subtitle calls this, An Anglo-American Tragedy

I beg to differ. It’s a comic novel.

Waugh says of it…

The tale should not be read as a satire on morticians but as a study of the Anglo-American cultural impasse with the mortuary as a jolly setting.

But again, I beg to differ – which perhaps adds validity to the notion of an Anglo-American Cultural Impasse.

Waugh also said it was

...much the most offensive work I had done.

Dennis Barlow, a once successful poet, and an out-of-work British screenwriter in Hollywood takes work at a pet mortuary – The Happier Hunting Grounds. Dennis must make funeral arrangements for his fellow Briton, and roommate, a washed-up screenwriter, who committed suicide after being unceremoniously fired. Arrangements are handled by the Whispering Glades mortuary and cemetery, a thinly veiled portrayal of Forrest Lawn (Waugh’s inspiration), the over-the-top, opulent resting place for Southern California’s rich and beautiful. While making arrangements, Dennis develops a crush on Aimée Thanatogenos, Whispering Glades star cosmetician, who has also caught the eye of head mortician, Mr. Joyboy. Aimée is confused by her own emotions, and repeatedly writes a local advice columnist.

 

Empty-headed Aimée is further confused when she learns Mr. Joyboy lives with his overbearing mother, and Dennis’ love poems to her are not his own, but the work of England’s glorious dead poets. And although she never learns it, her advice columnist is a drunken, insensitive hack.

 

Does that sound like tragedy or comedy? I suppose I should defer to the author, but I thought it was fun and funny, reminiscent of Nathanael West or Kingsley Amis – quite unlike my other experiences with Evelyn Waugh. [Brideshead Revisited, A Handful of Dust]

 

My rating: 3 1/2 of 5 stars

 

This book satisfies a humorous or satirical classic in Back to the Classics Challenge 2021, and book with “One” in the title for the What’s in a Name? 2021 challenge.

 

I’ll share one excerpt. The unofficial head of the British enclave in Hollywood attempts to admonish Dennis for his undignified job, and relates how a previous chap, embarrassed his fellow Britons:

 

Clever chap, be he went completely native – wore ready-made shoes, and a belt instead of braces, went about without a tie, ate at drugstores.

 

Now that’s funny.

 

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Paddy Clarke, Ha Ha Ha by Roddy Doyle (novel #182)

We owned Barrytown, the whole lot of it. It went on forever. It was a country. ~ Patrick (Paddy)
Clarke on his boyhood realm.

 

Oh my, but this book is reminiscent of my own childhood – in spite of the fact that Paddy grew up in Dublin, and I in southwest Michigan. That’s the charm – people are not that different. From the boy on the cover – who could easily be me age 10, to the “tribe” of innocent terrors – like my own gang, the teachers we hated, family meals, cut knees, fights at schools, torturing little brothers, idolizing dads, loving moms…growing up.

 

I’ve said before, I was Tom Sawyer growing up, but the era is wrong. I was more like Paddy Clarke.

 

The narrative is just a hodgepodge of Paddy’s memories, generally, but not precisely chronological. As I’ve said, it was reminiscent of my own childhood, sometimes quite specifically as when Paddy recounts summer-long sewer construction on his street – yep me too; my buddies and I played in the in the forbidden trenches; my best friend broke his arm.

 

I remember, the world shrinking. Paddy recounts…

 

Our territory was getting smaller.

 

There was another tribe there now, tougher than us, though none of us said it. Our territory was being taken from us but we were fighting back. We played Indians and Cowboys now, not Cowboys and Indians.

 

Bikes became important, our horses.

 

Ah yes! bikes were independence.

 

It is about the innocence of youth. Paddy thought…

 

I thought that the Americans were fighting gorillas in Vietnam.

 

Me too.

 

It was an idyllic life.

 

Until, the comfort and security begins to erode. This is where Paddy’s story and my own diverge. 

 

Patrick notices the growing strife between his ma and da: beautifully and tragically recorded through the eyes of the innocent.

 

I loved him. He was my da. It didn’t make sense. She was my ma.

 

She was lovely. He was nice.

 

It wasn’t lots of little fights. It was one big one, rounds of the same fight.

 

What was wrong with her?

Nothing. She was lovely looking, though it was hard to tell for sure. She made lovely dinners. The house was clean, the grass cut and straight and she always left some daisies in the middle because Catherine liked them. She didn’t shout like some of the other mas. She didn’t wear trousers with no fly. She wasn’t fat. She never lost her temper for long. I thought about it: she was the best ma around here. She really was; I didn’t just reach that conclusion because she was mine. She was.

 

There must have been something wrong with her, at least one thing. I couldn’t see it. I wanted to. I wanted to understand. I wanted to be on both sides. He was my da. 

 

It’s beautiful, heartbreaking, and poignant.

 

My Dad told me the best gift a father can give his child is to love their mother. Thanks Dad!

 

My rating: 3 1/2 of 5 stars

 

This book satisfies a title with a repeated word, in the What’s in a Name? 2021 challenge.

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Top 10 Fathers from Classic Lit – NOVA this week (June 20, 2021)

Observations from my weekly wanderings, mostly in Northern Virginia

 

And this week, for Father’s Day – My Top 10 Fathers from Classic Lit

 

10. Colonel Aureliano Buendia from One-Hundred Years of Solitude

 

9. Kostantin Levin from Anna Karenina

 

8. Seymour (Swede) Levov from American Pastoral

 

7. Stephen Kumalo from Cry, the Beloved Country

 

6. Theoden from The Lord of the Rings

 

5. Father Joseph Vaillant from Death Comes for the Archbishop

 

4. Charles Halloway from Something Wicked this way Comes

 

3. Bob Cratchitt from A Christmas Carol

 

2. Atticus Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird

 

1. Clarence from my yet unwritten novel

The Boxcombe Valley Mystery – a Sherlock Holmes short story

"The Boxcombe Valley Mystery" is a Sherlock Holmes short story and part of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes collection. According to The Annotated Sherlock Holmes, it was Holmes 22nd case chronologically.

 

Evidence for the murder of John Turner is overwhelming against the victim’s son, James Turner. Yet James, and the beautiful daughter of the county’s most prominent citizen, insist he is innocent. Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard, calls in Holmes to satisfy the young woman, but Lestrade is incredulous – the guilt of James Turner is beyond reasonable doubt.

 

And of course, you can guess the outcome – but not the details, which as always makes for interesting reading. In the end, it is one of those rare cases, but not the only one, where Holmes ignores the letter of the law, to serve the higher standard of justice. Holmes satisfies his own obsession of solving the mystery, but discreetly withholds everything he has learned, and can prove, to protect the innocent. 

 

Well worth the read.

 

Trivia: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle never described Holmes wearing a deerstalker hat
that is so iconic to the world’s greatest detective. It is this adventure, "The Boxcombe Valley Mystery", that gave birth to the legend – by no design of the author. In the narrative, Holmes’ colleague and chronicler Dr. Watson – describes Holmes…

Sherlock Holmes was pacing up and down the platform, his tall, gaunt figure made even gaunter and taller by his long grey traveling-cloak and close-fitting cap.

 

That’s all the detail Watson provides. It is the Sherlock Holmes illustrator Sidney Paget, who portrayed it as a deerstalker. Filmmakers in England and Hollywood latched on to the look, and made it legend.

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