Re-read. Our April challenge book.

Speaking of academia (as we were when reading Davies)…very dazzling. Funny and wicked about the academy and these kind of blighted lives; people that love literature and get trapped where they’re just drudges to this work–in this case especially, the woman with the index cards about the wife. Such a miserable life, inflicting misery on each other.

Really makes us laugh when the American woman sweeps in and creates all this sturm und drang–of course that’s how the Brits see us. We come in and just start breaking stuff!!

Maude = very well-written character. Interesting person with her own hurts and wounds, but a really good person. Always think it’s cool that they got together in a way.

The book itself is really a literary tour de force when you think about all the stuff Byatt wrote for it! Not just the book itself, but also Ash’s poetry, Christabel’s poetry, their letters, his wife’s diary, Sabine’s diary, various letters. Re-reading it though, we find ourselves skimming some parts. Artistically great, but do we need to read 8 pages of a Spenserian poem before moving on to the next chapter? Even in earlier readings, we remembered being kind of impatient at some parts–want to go on with the story. Didn’t need that much extra to see the ability–sometimes clogged the narrative flow. And the characters give you the exposition so you don’t need to have the whole thing.

Always knocked out by that connection with the mystical weirdness, the seance–when you realized she made him think the kid was dead. Very moving at the end–when you see he did get to meet the kid and realize the truth / and watching his wife thinking she’s hiding it from him. Byatt really projected you back into this other story–the modern story in a way was a happier one. This is one of those books that breaks my heart every time I read it.

Some scenes such a rush, and have a great mystery feel, as when Maude figures out the letters are hidden.

Verdict: still really good. So worth re-reading.

Re-read for Dad; new to me. Our May challenge book.

Total black comedy with incredibly (surprisingly) sad moments; you get to like the guy more than you ever though you could. The first chapter is just outright hilarious. Dad remembers hearing about Abbey at a reading once, picking that chapter, and apparently some women walked out. Personally, I feel you have to be able to enjoy well-written things (or even to apply this broader, well-done art in any genre) without imposing your filter. If you can never enjoy writing that doesn’t agree with your (for example) feminist viewpoints, you’re shutting out a huge portion of the world.

Abbey just reallys wrings out the in your face redneck stuff; takes a hard look at the mess a person can make of their life. He’s pretty hard on the guy for making dumb choices. But there’s always this underlying hopeful place–“maybe we’ll find a way to make it work” enthusiasm.

Dad has been going back and reading biographies of Abbey, trying to parse out which bits are autobioraphical and which aren’t–all the wild stories about Abbey and women stop the day he married his last wife. Both Abbey and the main character here are so involved with people: so much fun, so attractive, so adventurous, but (until the end) not a long-term guy.

Dad felt that on his second time reading it, some of it got a little tedious: got kinda tired of the trip, didn’t always enjoy the flashbacks–felt like they were always pulling you out of something you were enjoying (the current trip more engaging than the past memories).

A lot of individual scenes were so much fun. Love how he has all these horrifically failed relationships but also has friends pretty much everywhere he goes. Clearly this guy is bringing something to the table that makes keeping him around worthwhile.

For me, it’s reminisicent of Philip Roth’s Sabbath’s Theater–the dark, dark humor of it, a voice you’re not going to meet a lot in literature, a part of America that doesn’t get chronicled a lot.

Verdict: both enjoyed it a LOT.