A pure gothic story with basic imagery, and degeneracy as an overall theme. The vampire scene came slightly out of nowhere, and seemed quite disconnected from the rest of the story, but otherwise a beautiful and picturesque tale.

Clarissa is one of the longest novels in the English language. Even the full title is staggeringly long: Comprehending The Most Important Concerns of Private Life, And particularly showing The distress that may attend the Misconduct both of parents and children, In relation to Marriage. I can't remember why and when I was inspired to read this (possibly a curiosity towards controversial classics?), but I knew it wasn't going to be easy. It sure wasn't, but it was still somewhat rewarding, and I'm quite satisfied that I finished the whole thing. Kind of like after a long walk: you're tired and at home you just fall on the couch, but soon you'll feel better and you remember all the beautiful scenery you had seen along the way.

Lovelace believes that virtue cannot be found in any woman, because his first love betrayed him, and it seems he avenges this betrayal on the whole gender. His twisted perception of love is more like an astonishingly persistent and obsessive desire to conquer a virtuous angel. Clarissa is like a caged bird captured by a lion and taken into his dark cave. Then again, sometimes the reader gets tricked the same way as Clarissa, when you start to think that perhaps Lovelace truly loves Clarissa and wants to make amends, but doesn't know how to express his love other than by hurting her.

The biggest problem is - not surprisingly - the length. The story progresses devastatingly slowly. My initial thought was to read a letter or two a day, but I had to change my pace. The story didn't simply seem to get anywhere, but I still wanted to know the ending without checking Wikipedia or skipping the pages.

I liked Lovelace as the crook, and the themes seemed to be surprisingly heavy, especially towards the ending and after all the marriage stuff at the beginning. Clarissa may annoy some people with her virtuousness, but I kind of liked her when she stood up for herself and stayed true to her principles, even though her angelic personality were emphasized a bit too much. An epistolary form also gives a chance to interpret things between lines, since all the characters aren't given the chance to tell their side of the story. However, the page count eats away most of the good qualities of the novel, because the pacing is just god-awful. Richardson would have needed a good editor. His contemporaries didn't seem to mind though, since this was a bestseller in its time (readers even travelled to the places where the story was set), but these days Clarissa as it stands pleases only a few.

During the days between finishing this and writing a review in my blog, I found out there is a radio play from 2010 with Richard Armitage. Of course I had to try, because I love Armitage's voice and I can follow radio plays better than audio books. All the actors were great in their roles, but Armitage completely stole the show with his smouldering interpretation of the snake Lovelace. I could listen to him every night whispering in my headphones. Anyway (:D), I'm glad I listened to the production, because it also enhanced my understanding of the novel (I admit, I shed a couple of tears at the end). It kind of condensed the story into a nice package, whereas reading the book felt like Richardson had come up with a some sort of fiendish strategy to exhaust the reader. Despite the novel's easy English, my eyelids kept drooping every once in a while.

Nice thick classics are great to sink into, but I have my limits. So I wouldn't recommend this to anyone without a big warning sticker, but if the story interests you, the Armitage production can be found here. If you like it and you're courageous enough, you can move on to the actual thing. Now that I think about it, I think I liked this far more than what it felt like in the middle of the reading project. Since the radio play was worth at least four stars, but the book just two, I'm making a compromise and will give this three. Despite the slow pace, I liked the themes, the characters, the plot, and there was just that "something" that classics usually have.

At some point I'm going to check out the Sean Bean miniseries, but for now I'll lay this depressing tale to rest and move on to other interesting stuff. Don't worry, Lovelace, we'll meet again.

If someone had told me a few months ago what book I was going to read today, I would have laughed myself to death. This is so far from my taste in books it's unreal. Generally speaking I of course get a lot of fun out of those old-fashioned etiquette rules and advice for women (thanks Retronaut for the many laughs), but reading an actual book on those topics wouldn't have crossed my mind. However, when I stumbled across Hillis's book a while back, it just looked so cute and endearing, that I had to add it on my to read -list. I also understood that it's apparently not a guide book on how to snatch a good husband and therefore getting rid of the ugly single-status, which apparently was a huge problem back then.

There's a couple of main thoughts that Hillis repeats every once in a while: money does not equal good taste, you don't need a big pay check to organize your life into a nice one, and it's ok to pamper yourself even though there's no one to see your lace nightgown. The advice are gentle but firm, but Hillis emphasizes, that in the end everyone does what they think is best. You can ignore all her advice, but if you sit alone in your apartment all day long, don't complain that you're bored and without friends. The book also takes on account that living alone may not have been your choice, for example if you've gotten divorced. Hillis says that the intention of her book is to encourage women to embrace their situation, but not to defend living alone as the best option. You get to do what you want when you want, but you still don't have to suffer loneliness if you just take the bull by the horns, and go out the door with an open mind.

There are only a few things that reveal the publishing year, like mentions on etiquette and clothing. A Lady and Her Liquor -chapter was fun. Apparently Martini, Manhattan, and (familiar for Mad Men -fans) Old-fashioned were the drinks that everyone should have known how to make. There was some of the conception that women should dress elegantly, which doesn't really apply today. However, Hillis's advice are mostly quite general, so a modern woman can still get at least something out of them without having to be a career woman in 1930s New York.

I smiled, when I noticed two things that apply to my life quite well: the apartment doesn't have to be messy, even though outsiders aren't there to see it everyday; you can eat well even if you're alone and feel like eating convenience foods in the kitchen straight from the boxes. No huge revelations, but still a fun and light read.

I'm not the biggest fan of detective fiction, usually I read more classic stuff like Chandler and Christie from that genre. The first ones remind me of film noir (there's something utterly enchanting about Los Angeles at night) and the latter ones are just adorably entertaining (despite the grisly murders). However, when I got the chance to get a free copy of the new Finnish translation of this, I thought why not. I've wanted to read more about Africa anyway and this sounded exotic. I think I also got a sudden urge to learn Afrikaans.

The result was that I almost sabotaged my own studying, because I could not put this down for too long a period. I was kind of upset that when I went to my parents' house for a couple days I forgot to take this with me. I waited anxiously to get back to the story.

At first I wanted more descriptions of the surroundings. It felt like the story could have happened anywhere, because there were just brief mentionings of names and places that didn't ring a bell. As the plot thickened, however, I barely thought about it. Meyer drops small pieces of the South African society here and there, and something can also be spotted between the lines. Nothing ever seemed too glued on, and there was no dumping of information (unlike historical fiction often has). The story about the football match was touching, and got me more curious about the situation in South Africa, because I'm not very familiar about the whole continent.

The two levels of time brought nice depth to van Heerden's character. He believes every human being to be fundamentally evil. Hope is not entirely lost, because Beneke would like to break through his hard and cynical barrier. Other characters were realistic as well, and none of them are either good or evil, just ordinary human beings who've had to make some tough choices.

Let's be honest, this ain't special in the way that I usually consider special literature, but this is still an entertaining one in its own genre.

I believe the title is a word play from "cock sucker"? Would fit in nicely, since the characters seem to be a bunch of morons, who also happen to have difficulties in sorting out their lives. "Cork sucker" might mean someone who has problems with alcohol.

I have to say I was slightly disappointed. The stories were relatively entertaining, and some of the characters delightfully crazy (the giant snake story was gross but amusing). As a whole the collection just seemed a bit flat, or maybe I just didn't get the deeper meaning behind it. I usually expect a fantastic idea or some sort of twist in my short stories, so maybe this just didn't have a chance in the first place.

I did appreciate Fante showing us the other side of Los Angeles, it's way more interesting than pumped up Barbies. Fante has been compared to Charles Bukowski, so I'd maybe recommend this to his fans.

Said to be the first Finnish horror novel (although written in Swedish because of the historical period that I won't go into detail now).

My expectations weren't too high, but this turned out to be quite a nice story (although not standing a chance internationally). Especially the beginning was fairly eerie, because a swamp at night sounds scary (something that would be featured in the film Sauna), especially when suddenly you hear faint moaning and there's a girl being sucked into the earth. It can't be proven if Ingelius got his inspiration from a certain Finnish mansion, but according to the afterword there are some striking similarities in the events and persons.

In the afterword Jukka Sarjala also claims this to be both horror and gothic, but I'd categorize this as only gothic. Almost all of the traditional features of the genre can be found, like mixing horror-like elements and romance, extreme virtue vs. evil, melodrama, subtle humour and an innocent fainting maiden, whose past is a mystery.

Despite the formulaic plot Ingelius's interpretation is still very entertaining, even though after the beginning there were no scary or even eerie moments. Ingelius has clearly been inspired by early 18th century gothic literature with its power hungry noblemen, who want to maintain their fortune and power whatever the cost. Maybe a little bit more descriptions of the surroundings would have been nice, because the atmosphere was mostly quite superficial and hollow, so all the exciting twists and turns didn't seem that amazing or jaw droppingly horrific.

Gothic literature rarely has any supernatural features (although at first they may seem so), and the scariness of the Ristilä mansion stems entirely from its master, the baron, and the events that undeniably puts your head in a spin. So plot-wise this was quite nice (I confess my love towards mysterious cloaked figures), and the ending was also wonderful, because it isn't a traditionally simple happy ending. Although throughout the novel there was a bit too much romance for my liking (and the constant fainting, oh please). The belief that women are weak creatures is thankfully balanced by the character of Irene, who ponders whether to marry for love or obey his tyrannical father. She also stays firmly true to herself against an unwanted suitor. Good for you, girl!