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ABBY. His name's Hoskins - Adam Hoskins. That's really all I know about him - except that he's a Methodist.
MORTIMER. That's all you know about him? Well, what's he doing here? What happened to him?
MARTHA. He died.
MORTIMER. Aunt Martha, men don't just get into window seats and die.
ABBY. (Silly boy.) No, he died first.
MORTIMER. Well, how?
ABBY. Oh, Mortimer, don't be so inquisitive. The gentleman died because he drank some wine with poison in it.
MORTIMER. How did the poison get in the wine?
MARTHA. Well, we put it in wine because it's less noticeable - when it's in tea it has a distinct odor.
Sweet old ladies doing "charity work", a secret in the cellar, their nephew who thinks he's Theodore Roosevelt, Mortimer who's ready to have a nervous breakdown because of his aunts, a minister's daughter, other nephew who looks suspiciously like Boris Karloff (this nephew was actually played by Karloff on Broadway), and Dr. Einstein (not THAT Einstein).
A hilarious play that is great as a "snack read". Fun fact: I detest Frank Capra's films, but he did a great job with the adaptation. The casting is top notch as well. Peter Lorre and Cary Grant in the same movie? Yay!
No. Nope. When you're contemplating between reading a book and cleaning your atrociously messy apartment and end up choosing the latter... That says a lot about the appeal of the book, doesn't it?
My overall experience was actually very similar than what I had with The Alienist, so you might as well go read that review. The only difference was that Ackroyd's story jumped constantly from one place to another and felt very disjointed. Just when I was getting into a character or a scene, it was switched to something else and left a nasty superficial aftertaste in my mouth.
Once again, I liked the film adaptation more than the book. Which led me to think that maybe I enjoy Victorian (and, more broadly, history) things in visual form, and therefore I should focus on that and actual 19th century novels instead? Then again, there's The Crimson Petal and the White (2002). It can't be the only good one out there. Please tell me it's not just an anomaly!
My overall experience was actually very similar than what I had with The Alienist, so you might as well go read that review. The only difference was that Ackroyd's story jumped constantly from one place to another and felt very disjointed. Just when I was getting into a character or a scene, it was switched to something else and left a nasty superficial aftertaste in my mouth.
Once again, I liked the film adaptation more than the book. Which led me to think that maybe I enjoy Victorian (and, more broadly, history) things in visual form, and therefore I should focus on that and actual 19th century novels instead? Then again, there's The Crimson Petal and the White (2002). It can't be the only good one out there. Please tell me it's not just an anomaly!
Like I'm sure most people do, I usually prefer reading the book before watching the movie. Reading takes more time, and if the book isn't as good, it's significantly tougher to plough through it. However, the even bigger reason for me personally is the fact that the inevitable differences are more difficult to ignore in a book. I prefer imagining the characters myself, and if they're not the same in the adaptation, it distracts me when I'm reading.
The Great Mouse Detective (1986) doesn't have those problems. The book doesn't take long to read because it's a children's book, and because the animation has animals, I'm not bothered by the discrepancies in characters etc.
Anyway, the movie is one my favorite animations of all time. It slightly creeped me out when I was a child. The bat with a wooden leg, the absolute demented Ratigan who tries to pretend he's not a rat, the cat that gets to eat all the mice that piss Ratigan off, the intense finale inside Big Ben etc. I kept going back to the VHS over and over again to experience the foggy atmosphere of Victorian London (could it be that this movie started my obsession with the Victorian era?).
The book isn't nearly as dark, which I admit disappointed me at first, but I completely understand why Titus wanted to keep it clean. It didn't make me enjoy it any less, but it just caught me off guard. There's also no bat and no Moriarty/Ratigan (he should appear in later books) but instead three ordinary bland crooks. Actually, the entire book has completely different characters aside from Basil and Dawson and a completely different plot, so no point listing all the differences.
The one I found the most interesting, though, is the creation of Holmestead (modelled after Hampstead, perhaps?) in the cellar of Baker Street 221B. While in the movie the parallels between Basil and Sherlock are more subtle or at least not discussed, in the book Sherlock Holmes is given much more attention. Basil admires him tremendously and has a slight inferiority complex because of it. The poor thing also can't play the violin like his idol!
All the differences, however, were more interesting than annoying or distracting. Although I like the movie more, Basil is a perfectly competent and adorable children's book that feels, for a 1958 novel set in the 1800s, remarkably modern in terms of writing. I'm sure today's kids would enjoy the adventure just as much, and the illustrations are absolutely lovely. The appeal of Victorian London is so great, though, that I'm not sure if I will continue with the series (looks like it has books set in Mexico and Switzerland, for example).
I'll just keep the movie close to my heart. The world would be a better place if everyone had as much fun as the glorious Vincent Price playing Ratigan.
The Great Mouse Detective (1986) doesn't have those problems. The book doesn't take long to read because it's a children's book, and because the animation has animals, I'm not bothered by the discrepancies in characters etc.
Anyway, the movie is one my favorite animations of all time. It slightly creeped me out when I was a child. The bat with a wooden leg, the absolute demented Ratigan who tries to pretend he's not a rat, the cat that gets to eat all the mice that piss Ratigan off, the intense finale inside Big Ben etc. I kept going back to the VHS over and over again to experience the foggy atmosphere of Victorian London (could it be that this movie started my obsession with the Victorian era?).
The book isn't nearly as dark, which I admit disappointed me at first, but I completely understand why Titus wanted to keep it clean. It didn't make me enjoy it any less, but it just caught me off guard. There's also no bat and no Moriarty/Ratigan (he should appear in later books) but instead three ordinary bland crooks. Actually, the entire book has completely different characters aside from Basil and Dawson and a completely different plot, so no point listing all the differences.
The one I found the most interesting, though, is the creation of Holmestead (modelled after Hampstead, perhaps?) in the cellar of Baker Street 221B. While in the movie the parallels between Basil and Sherlock are more subtle or at least not discussed, in the book Sherlock Holmes is given much more attention. Basil admires him tremendously and has a slight inferiority complex because of it. The poor thing also can't play the violin like his idol!
All the differences, however, were more interesting than annoying or distracting. Although I like the movie more, Basil is a perfectly competent and adorable children's book that feels, for a 1958 novel set in the 1800s, remarkably modern in terms of writing. I'm sure today's kids would enjoy the adventure just as much, and the illustrations are absolutely lovely. The appeal of Victorian London is so great, though, that I'm not sure if I will continue with the series (looks like it has books set in Mexico and Switzerland, for example).
I'll just keep the movie close to my heart. The world would be a better place if everyone had as much fun as the glorious Vincent Price playing Ratigan.
I always rate books within their specific context or genre. In the case of general overviews, The Victorian Treasury is one of the better ones. It's not meant to be a deep or exhaustive look at the Victorian era. It's simply just an introduction for those who don't know much about it, or for those who want a quick recap or a short reference book that might be useful later on. The covers in this Andre Deutsch history series are absolutely gorgeous as well (it doesn't show in the picture, but the yellow parts are actually gilded).
There are topics on everything you can imagine, both general chapters and chapters about specific events and important people, and in addition to the main body of text there are small fact boxes (a timeline of slavery, tidbits about Victoria's wedding dress etc.). Adding the voice of the people themselves in the form of excerpts from novels, newspapers etc. was a nice touch (although maybe in a short book like this the longer excerpts could have been left out or shortened a little). Overall, there's just enough information about everything, so that you can decide what interests you and if you want to read more about it.
The Victorian era is one of my favorite eras in history, but so far I've focused only on specific things within that timeline or just read Victorian novels. The Victorian Treasury was definitely the push I needed to investigate the era further in a more general sense and understand it a bit more.
There are topics on everything you can imagine, both general chapters and chapters about specific events and important people, and in addition to the main body of text there are small fact boxes (a timeline of slavery, tidbits about Victoria's wedding dress etc.). Adding the voice of the people themselves in the form of excerpts from novels, newspapers etc. was a nice touch (although maybe in a short book like this the longer excerpts could have been left out or shortened a little). Overall, there's just enough information about everything, so that you can decide what interests you and if you want to read more about it.
The Victorian era is one of my favorite eras in history, but so far I've focused only on specific things within that timeline or just read Victorian novels. The Victorian Treasury was definitely the push I needed to investigate the era further in a more general sense and understand it a bit more.
Apart from the simpleton and annoyingly angelic and naive Esther (who unfortunately was in a big role) the character gallery was extremely enjoyable. If not the best of Dickens's books then at least very close second. The descriptions were stunning, you could feel the soot and dirty fog along with the gazes of suspicious Tom-All-Aloners. The reader will witness morbid, sad and happy events when the people connected to the Jarndyce and Jarndyce case get tangled up in it and dragged down to the depths of despair or heights of happiness.
Well. I didn't like it as much as I would have wanted but nevertheless enjoyed it. Luckily only half of it is only understandable to people who know more about Stalin's Moscow and therefore can actually enjoy the allegories. I laughed when I read (mostly because of the cat, he was such a hilarious character) and also the story was quite fascinating with Golgata and the Devil's ball. I may have to come back to this a little later on.
Tries to cover a bit too much and therefore results in superficiality, which is an unavoidable problem in books that are an overview of a broader topic, but Hawksley's excessive use of bullet points doesn't help either. There are a lot of interesting tidbits, but overall this just isn't comparable to the Victorian version. Both covers are absolutely gorgeous, though!
To tell you the truth, although I've said before that I love Paddington as a character and as a TV show and not so much as books, reading this back in June in a sunny London park while eating sausage rolls and cake really got me into the right mood.
The poor benevolent Mrs Brown always tries to calm his husband down and be positive about Paddington's good intentions despite the bad results, but when Paddington has "a special reason for wanting to be alone", you can be sure it won't end well. I wouldn't be much better with wallpaper, though.
I'm not sure if it was the setting or the fact that I liked this more than the first book, but I will keep these in my Kindle for the moments when I need something light and innocent to read.
The poor benevolent Mrs Brown always tries to calm his husband down and be positive about Paddington's good intentions despite the bad results, but when Paddington has "a special reason for wanting to be alone", you can be sure it won't end well. I wouldn't be much better with wallpaper, though.
I'm not sure if it was the setting or the fact that I liked this more than the first book, but I will keep these in my Kindle for the moments when I need something light and innocent to read.
(3.5 stars) If you're a Forster fan and stumbled into this anomaly, you might have been as confused as I was and thought why he of all people decided to write a sci-fi story, or, more importantly, would it actually be good?
Luckily, it's well worth the read. Well-written and with an eerie ending, it's especially recommended for those whose gadgets have been glued into their hands and brains instead of being mere tools of communication. A monochromatic world, completely devoid of original thought and individualism, that will be eaten alive by its technology is not the kind of world I want to end up in.
Luckily, it's well worth the read. Well-written and with an eerie ending, it's especially recommended for those whose gadgets have been glued into their hands and brains instead of being mere tools of communication. A monochromatic world, completely devoid of original thought and individualism, that will be eaten alive by its technology is not the kind of world I want to end up in.
David Lynch's The Elephant Man (1980), Frederick Treves's memoirs, Bernard Pomerance's play, seeing the replica skeleton at the Royal London Hospital Museum along with related documents... Joseph Merrick, who suffered from severe deformities that led to him being called "The Elephant Man" and who died at the age of 27 (the specific illness remains unknown), has been in my life for quite a while.
I thought it was now high time to find out his true story, and it really feels like it due to the research put into it and the level-headed juggling of many alternate facts. Howell and Ford do dedicate a fair bit of space to various other topics, but I don't mind that at all, as long as they offer insight into the cultural and sociological aspect of the era or a background/perspective to understanding the person.
Considering that the amount of information we have about Merrick is all contradictory (even he himself told half-truths about himself, either intentionally or because that's what he genuinely believed) or colored by the person's own interpretations and preconceptions, the authors did a damn good job. This is especially prominent in the issue of freak shows. Is it right to say that Merrick was rescued from being displayed as a freak, when in fact he was the one who suggested to be displayed in the first place? Or was his settling for the life of a freak due to the non-existent conventional job opportunities outside the workhouse?
Merrick's story isn't a simple "looks don't matter" message. It's about a man who was a real person with a real personality, and who was an incredibly kind and gentle soul with a childlike admiration for the beauty of the world. People might hear about him for the first time because of his deformities, but I hope he stays with them because of who he was. He didn't deserve the tragedy of his early life, but at least we have the consolation that he got to experience a semblance of a normal life and fulfill some of his dreams.
I thought it was now high time to find out his true story, and it really feels like it due to the research put into it and the level-headed juggling of many alternate facts. Howell and Ford do dedicate a fair bit of space to various other topics, but I don't mind that at all, as long as they offer insight into the cultural and sociological aspect of the era or a background/perspective to understanding the person.
Considering that the amount of information we have about Merrick is all contradictory (even he himself told half-truths about himself, either intentionally or because that's what he genuinely believed) or colored by the person's own interpretations and preconceptions, the authors did a damn good job. This is especially prominent in the issue of freak shows. Is it right to say that Merrick was rescued from being displayed as a freak, when in fact he was the one who suggested to be displayed in the first place? Or was his settling for the life of a freak due to the non-existent conventional job opportunities outside the workhouse?
Merrick's story isn't a simple "looks don't matter" message. It's about a man who was a real person with a real personality, and who was an incredibly kind and gentle soul with a childlike admiration for the beauty of the world. People might hear about him for the first time because of his deformities, but I hope he stays with them because of who he was. He didn't deserve the tragedy of his early life, but at least we have the consolation that he got to experience a semblance of a normal life and fulfill some of his dreams.