lory_enterenchanted's Reviews (582)

This was a pleasant enough read. The dialogue harmonized well with the original, without too many jarring anachronisms. I found the descriptive passages less successful, with lots of cliches (e.g. a spring in her step, used twice within the first few chapters). I wish that the language had had more bite and originality to it.

As for the plot -- there's no way I think Austen would have imagined this kind of future for Mary, in her book an insufferable prig who is the target of scorn, not of empathy and compassion. But for modern readers it's quite satisfying to get inside the mind of this bookish girl, understand how an emotionally neglectful upbringing made her who she was, and see her slowly transform herself into a woman who is capable of loving and being loved, without sacrificing the gifts of her intellect.

I could accept Mary's rehabilitation, but that of Mr Collins was too far-fetched for me! He was much too self-reflective and dignified for the arrogant little toady we love to hate in P&P. Caroline Bingley, on the other hand, became a soulless viper in exchange. Seeing Mary stand up to her was a satisfying moment.

"When faith is completely replaced by creed, worship by discipline, love by habit; when the crisis of today is ignored because of the splendors of the past; when faith becomes an heirloom rather than a living fountain; when religion speaks only in the name of authority rather than with the voice of compassion, its message becomes meaningless."
Abraham Joshua Heschel, Jewish rabbi, teacher and theologian

Why are people afraid to think? Why do they want to suffocate their own free thinking, and that of others, with rigid ideologies? That's what I wondered as I read this memoir by a professor of English literature who experienced the frenzied descent of her country into pseudo-religious madness.

It's not a faraway happening. These days, ideology is everywhere, threatening to overwhelm our individual ability to connect to one another through a dynamic relationship to an evolving truth, which is too often replaced by a drive to protect our fixed ideas of what truth is at all costs. In the great literature of the past, may we still find a space to think more freely, to feel more flexibly and humanly, to develop the will to reject tyranny's hold over our minds, if not our bodies.

Books that are highly stylized, enamored of their own language, are hit or miss with me. Sometimes they just feel false and contrived. (E.g. The Night Circus.) Sometimes, though, the linguistic acrobatics work for me and bring me into a unique world that only exists through this combination of sounds and verbal color. Another time, I might not be in the mood and the whole performance might fall flat. 

A Stranger in Olondria worked for me, this time. I just floated along with the rapturous prose and didn't worry overmuch about details like a coherent plot or believable characters. I'm not sure what will be left to me of it after a few weeks or months have passed, but in the time of reading it was a unique experience.

Read for Summer in Other Languages challenge, to boost my German. Thoughts at enterenchanted.com

When we went to Crete last October (during a brief window when travel was possible), I knew little of the island’s history beyond the myth of the Minotaur and the labyrinth, and had never heard of the city of Chania. But when we passed through on our way to and from the southern beaches, I was enchanted by this beautiful city with its many layers of history, its ancient constructions of diverse religions and cultures, its winding streets and surprising views, its jewel of a harbor open to the sea yet protected by a dividing wall. With its buildings of golden stone and its piles of rubble still speaking of old wartime wounds, this is a place with many stories to tell. 

Our visit was brief, and I didn’t have much time to delve into all that Chania had to tell me. So I was delighted to find that a new novel, Daughters of the Labyrinth, promised to take me into this world through the story of a Cretan-born British artist returning to her roots. I opened the book and plunged into a mesmerizing tale of secrets, lies, suffering, the ties of family, and healing. 

Ri is a painter who has lived and worked in England for many years. Following the death of her husband, David, she is mourning his loss and wondering about her next steps. She’s created a series of paintings based on a visit to her family in Crete, for a show that’s just about to open, but something in that work doesn’t satisfy her. When her mother has an accident and she’s called home, she starts to finally learn about some of the hidden darknesses that haunted the shadows of her painting. 

Ri’s parents grew up during the Second World War, and like many who lived through that terrible time, they have tried to put it behind them and shield their children from its horrors. But now, under the pressure of illness and old age, the secrets begin to emerge, and Ri slowly learns of the past she never knew, the hidden, labyrinthine underground history that has shaped her experience without her conscious awareness, and that must change her whole image of who she is. 

In the process, there is pain but also the relief of being able to finally share it, choices that are hard to understand but also the chance to forgive and accept one another more fully. Ri’s journey helps her to grow as a daughter, as a mother and as an artist, and her family to come more bravely into the light of day, with their loving bonds tested but intact. 

Padel, a poet with many books including one other novel to her credit, is not a Cretan by birth herself but loves the island and clearly knows it well. The place that I glimpsed only briefly rose in my mind’s eye once again, and I learned so much about what lies behind those secretive walls, those formidable mountains. As so often, there are parts of our human history that we would much rather forget – but after the passage of some years, and with the consoling distance of fiction, it may become possible to remember and to honor the past, while striving towards a better future. In this novel, Padel has crafted a moving work of the imagination that can help us to face reality with sorrow but also with strength.

In this entry in the Carey family series, the young man of the family is falsely accused of cheating at cards and leaves the country for the family estate in New York. I love the idea and the production values of these books, and the writing is not bad, but the stories fall flat for me. This one is a particularly insensitive demonstration of Brits feeling entitled to conquer the world (lording it over the native Americans, of course, but also French Canadians in the battle for Quebec). Like the other Carey books I've read so far, this one is totally male-centric in a preteen sort of way; the men seem to have no sexual feelings at all and women are almost completely absent from their world. Boys may find this all terribly exciting (my son loves it) but it bores me quickly. I'd far rather have some interesting drawing room conversation than yet another battle.

I found this even better than the first book - it could stand alone as it has the essential info about EI parents and other EI people, although anyone who is really struggling with these relationships will want both books. I thought the advice was very clear and practical. Time will tell whether it works in my interactions with EI people, but I'm looking forward to trying. I especially appreciated the detailed explanation of how EI people are hostile to your inner world, and how to reclaim it. It's been hard for me to feel I have permission just to have my own thoughts around EI people, but now I understand why, I know it's important to resist the takeover, and I will go into our encounters forearmed.

Reread of the classic novel of imposture and suspense. Still a great read even though I knew how it would turn out. It's always fun to be rooting for a criminal (who turns out to be the moral center of the piece).

This was a helpful and well written guide, but I wished for a bit more nuance in some places. I would especially like to have seen more about parents who don't talk all the time about themselves or try to make themselves the center of attention, which is how Gibson generally characterizes self-absorption. There are parents who barely talk about themselves at all, and can appear extremely interested in and caring of their children, but only on a deeper look is this revealed to be interest in seeing the child not as they really are, but as who the parent wants and needs them to be. Not talking about themselves is a sort of negative self-centeredness, as harmful as the more overt kind or maybe even more so. Definitely it can be very difficult and confusing for the child whose parent appeared to be always selfless and giving, but who was really only serving their own needs for security in the guise of caring for a child.

I also thought the division of child coping strategies into "internalizing" and "externalizing" was too simplistic, and that the dismissal of externalizers was rather curt (saying they wouldn't be interested in this book anyway, and mainly talking about them in negative terms). As an extreme internalizer, I'd be interested to know what I could learn from the externalizers to become more balanced myself, and I'd like to understand them better to be able to relate to the ones in my life. I'd also be interested to know of stories where an externalizer turned around and did develop self-reflection. Surely that must happen sometimes!

Aside from the personal relevance, I was quite struck by how many political leaders these days are clearly suffering from emotional immaturity. In the US at least, it seems like there are a few grownups involved and the rest are a bunch of screaming toddlers who want to twist reality to suit their own feelings, just like the EI parents in this book. It's unfortunate that they have so much power, but some of the strategies in the book (notably detaching, exercising calm observation, and not getting pulled into their emotional contagion) may help with dealing with this mess as well as with family troubles. I'll be trying them anyway!

I was thinking of reviewing this for Austen in August, but the Austen connection was thin. I did enjoy the Bath setting though, and I'd try more in the series.