Alana Estelle

“She felt very young; at the same time unspeakably aged. She sliced like a knife through everything; at the same time was outside looking on.”

Mrs. Dalloway by, Virginia Woolf is considered to be a literary masterpiece. I’ve avoided Woolf in the past because, for some reason, I did think I’d get on with her. I initially planned to read this book with a companion reader discussing the themes and imagery, but I decided to just go for it and see what I picked up organically. 

Mrs. Dalloway is a short novel and it only covers the span of one day. It takes place in London, with Clarissa Dalloway leaving her house to “buy the flowers herself” for her party that evening. As Clarissa runs her errands and goes about her day, the narrative transitions between the thoughts, feelings and goings on of other characters, such as Peter Walsh, Septimus and his wife Lucrezia, and Clarissa’s daughter Elizabeth. 

To me, the heart of this novel is about memory, remembrance, nostalgia; how people recall the past and how spaces evoke memory. People leave remnants of themselves in the spaces they once inhabited. 

“… but that somehow in the streets of London, on the ebb and flow of things, here, there, she survived, Peter survived, lived in each other, she being part, she was positive, of the trees at home; of the house there, ugly rambling all to bits and pieces as it was; part of people she had never met; being laid out like mist between the people she knew best, who lifted her on their branches as she had seen the trees lift the mist, but it spread ever so far, her life, herself.”

Peter Walsh, in particular, permeates Clarissa’s thoughts, as her previous love interest. She reflects on the decision she made to marry Richard Dalloway and wonders what her life may have been like had she chosen to marry Peter. The narrative also lends ear to Peter’s thoughts on this as well. This really is a testament to the impact relationships have a person’s life, even decades later. 

“When one was young, said Peter, one was too much excited to know people. Now that one was old, fifty-three to be precise … now that one was mature then, said Peter, one could watch, one could understand, and one did not lose the power of feeling…”

As Clarissa and Peter are thinking over their lives and the choices they’ve made, Elizabeth’s life is just starting. She’s young, attractive and her whole life is ahead of her. Clarissa ponders her daughter, who is quite unlike her, coming of age in the aftermath of World War I. Elizabeth is unhampered by marriage, she can aspire to become a professional woman and not be defined by marriage to another person, like her mother. 

“…this being Mrs. Dalloway; not even Clarissa any more; the being Mrs. Richard Dalloway.”

Another woman gravely considering the decision she made in marriage is Lucrezia, who married Septimus and moved from Italy to England. To me, their narrative is the saddest. Lucrezia thinks about how excited she was to move to England with her new husband, however WWI took it’s toll on Septimus’s mental health. Lucrezia (and the doctors) do not understand that Septimus is suffering from PTSD; one could even argue that the hallucinations he deals with could be schizophrenia. Today, we know that traumatic events can actually trigger some mental illnesses. 

“He lay on the sofa and made her hold his hand to prevent him from falling down, down, he cried, into the flames! And saw faces laughing at him, calling him horrible disgusting names, from the walls, and hands pointing around the screen.”

There is this tension between men who have been permanently effected by the horror of war and their domestic lives, when they return. There is a lot of bird imagery, especially when describing the female characters and to me, this brought to mind the idea that the war created a large disparity between men and women. Coming back home and not being understood by one’s wife. The wife distressed and frustrated because the man she married is different - she doesn’t understand the gruesome reality of the war, and feels like a trapped bird. Though, like a caged bird, she will sing and flap around trying to chirp happily while attempting to make the most of the pieces of her husband that are left. 

“She was like a bird sheltering under the thin hollow of a leaf, who blinks at the sun when the leaf moves; starts at the crack of a dry twig. She was exposed; she was surrounded by the enormous trees, vast clouds of an indifferent world, exposed; tortured; and why should she suffer? Why?”

Another common image in this novel is Big Ben. Periodically, Big Ben is mentioned, noting that a few minutes or an hour has passed. If one were to read this novel and really pay attention to this, they would be able to tell how much time has elapsed in the novel, leading up to Clarissa’s party. However, this also conjures up the concept of time that has passed for these characters. They, with the exception of Elizabeth, have made their beds and they must lie in them. Time is a non-renewable resource and once it’s gone, it’s gone. It reminds one of one’s own mortality. 

Woolf’s writing is stunning; descriptive and evocative. There is so much imagery that it’s impossible to capture it all in just one reading. I had to really slow down and read this at a slower pace to enjoy the prose. Some people have commented that they found this novel hard to follow because its a bit “stream of consciousness.” Once I got in the groove of the style, I didn’t find this difficult to follow; it was like reading the natural progression of thought. Thought is not a linear process, it wanders and deviates, based on what the senses are processing. Think about how your mind wanders when your driving or just walking around the house completing chores - that’s how this novel reads. I found it oddly comforting. 

Overall, I really enjoyed Mrs. Dalloway and can’t wait to read more of Woolf’s novels. 

Rating: 4/5

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I think that the most recent Poldark BBC adaptation (I haven’t watched the 1970s version and don’t plan to...) may be my favorite book to screen adaptation to date. Winston Graham’s Poldark series is a twelve book series that follows Ross Poldark, his relationships and all of his drama (there’s a lot of drama). What is so fascinating about Poldark is that the plot and characters are equally dynamic and interesting; pair this with really engaging writing that is descriptive and evocative and the reader is completely sucked in. 

The Poldark adaptation starring Aidan Turner gives the viewer a very similar experience to reading the books. In my opinion, the cast was perfectly chosen - you can tell that the actors enjoyed working with each other. Also, because the adaptation is five seasons long and 8-10 episodes are devoted to each season, the show has room to “breathe.” Every four episodes roughly captures one book, and even though there is content that needed to be condensed, tweaked or completely left out due to the time constraints, I think they did an excellent job maintaining the core essence of these novels. Even the adjustments that were made, make sense and work well on screen. 

On screen adaptations have restrictions such as time, budgets, actor availability, etc. to capture what they need to capture. Imagery and music help to tell more story in a short amount of time, whereas a novelist can go on and on for as many pages as they like. Again, this adaptation uses everything precisely. I have particularly watched the first season (because it’s my favorite) too many times to count, mainly because I would watch an episode and completely break it down by rewinding and pausing. There are so many subtle images of flowers and landscapes that help tell the story. Also, the actors are so good and nuanced that they are able to save time by making a quick facial expression instead of taking up 20 seconds to speak. Really well done. This happens in Outlander too, but that’s for another post... . Each episode is packed with so much content, that the story is propelled forward quickly, without feeling rushed. It’s difficult to achieve good pacing in a plot and they really nailed it in this adaptation of Poldark. 

Honestly, I could go on and on about this adaptation. It’s so rich with content. If you’ve seen the show but haven’t read the books yet, or vice versa, transitioning from one to the other is still an exciting experience. They enhance each other - I watched the show first, not knowing they were books, so when I picked up the books already knowing everything, it still felt like I was experiencing the story for the first time because I got to experience Graham’s beautiful prose.  

Have you seen this adaptation? What do you like or dislike about it? 

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“I leaf again and again through these miserable memories and keep asking myself, was it then, in the glitter of that remote summer, that the drift in my life began; or was my excessive desire for that child only the first evidence of an inherent singularity?”

Lolita by, Vladimir Nabokov was the first buddy read of the year for me and Rebekah. Lolita is one of those books, that when you mention to people, they scrunch up their faces and say, “Ew! But, why?!” To which Rebekah and I responded, “Because we can,” and “Freedom of speech,” and “Down with book censorship!” and “We’re gluttons for punishment!” Lolita is a title that has made it on the list of banned books throughout the years, but if something is banned, that just makes people want to read it more.

The general plot is universally known - the narrator, Humbert Humbert, is attracted to underage girls. He specifically develops an attachment to Lolita and spends the entire narrative trying to justifying this attraction, even though he blatantly says multiple times that he knows that he’s wrong. Yea, homeboy, you’re beyond wrong, you’re a criminal... . He refers to young girls as “nymphets” (gross, so gross) and its clear that he does  this to project blame and responsibility onto children, as if it is their fault that he is attracted to them. He takes away their humanity, assigning them to something mythological to release himself of guilt. 

“…their true nature, which is not human, but nymphic (that is, demoniac); and these chosen creatures I propose to designate as ‘nymphets.’” 

From the very beginning of Lolita, it’s clear that Humbert is mentally ill and he’s been hospitalized multiple times. This is also used as a tactic to attempt to illicit sympathy for Humbert. Rebekah and I pretty much have the same personality type and had no sympathy for Humbert whatsoever. As the narrative progresses Nabokov’s writing style becomes more and more lyrical, portraying to the readers that Humbert’s mental state is deteriorating. 

What’s interesting is that this sneaks up on the reader. There was a point, in the second part of the book where the style became more “stream of consciousness” and I texted Rebekah because I had a lightbulb moment.

“As happens with me at periods of electrical disturbance and crepitating lightnings, I had hallucinations. Maybe they were more than hallucinations.”

Humbert is such an unreliable narrator. He contradicts himself and he exaggerates his own personal attributes. It becomes tricky for the reader to actually get a grasp on who he is because he hypes himself up so much. It’s fascinating how Nabokov is able to put the reader entirely in the head of a psycho and still feel like the main character is evading them. 

“..my old bedroom slippers - the only old things about me.” 

We get these heartbreaking glimpses of the trauma that Lolita suffers - they are fleeting glimpses, but they are there and Rebekah and I discussed what this text would have been like, had it been entirely from Lolita’s perspective. Ironically, it was difficult being in the head of a child abuser, however we think it would have been an even more difficult text, had it been  in Lolita’s voice.

“…and her sobs in the night - every night, every night - the moment I feigned sleep.”

What Nabokov achieved with this text is actually mind-blowing. When Rebekah and I first started Lolita we were saying, “Uh, yea this is going to be a 1-star read, because GROSS!” By the end we said, “GROSS, but 4 stars!” Why? Nabokov’s writing is poetic, lyrical, and complex. There are so many literary references that I wish I had an annotated edition and plan to purchase one (there’s even a Howards End reference). In the author’s note at the end, Nabokov knows that he wrote on a detestable topic, simply because he could. He points out that readers are obsessed with the “Why!? Why would you write something like this!?” To which the artist smirks and responds, “Why shouldn’t I?” Isn’t the purpose of art to sometimes make you scrunch your nose and push you completely out of your comfort zone, to leave you confused, fascinated and disturbed at the same time?” Nabokov is basically trolling the reader the entire time, “See what I’ve done? Do you see how uncomfortable I’ve made you? Do you see how gorgeously I’ve written about something so horrible? Do you see how much power wield with my words? Didn’t you oddly enjoy that?” Someone who is unapologetic about what they do is always our cup of tea. 

We can see why people can’t make it past the first few pages and why many people choose not to read this. Rebekah and I were saying how we are glad we have the freedom of choice. As consumers, we can choose the content we want, without it being censored widely. Let the reader choose what they want to read or not. This will not be the last Nabokov because his writing is top notch. As previously stated, Lolita surprised us. 

Rating: 4/5. 

Questions to consider: 

1. Did you ever sympathize with Humbert? Why or why not?
2. Why do you think Nabokov would write a book like this? Now, go read his author’s note. Did it change your view of this book?
3. Books like this have been censored. Do you agree and why or why not?
4. Can a book like Lolita ever be consider art? How does a book like this affect how we view art and the role of art?
5. What makes Humber an unreliable narrator?

“Once victim, always victim - that’s the law!”

My friend Rebekah and I finished Tess of the D’urbervilles (TOTD) by, Thomas Hardy at the end of last year, however, we were finally able to meet up and discuss this past weekend. Meeting in person is always more entertaining and we spend more time talking about everything else before we remember we have books to discuss. Oh, and there’s always good food and beverages! 

TOTD centers around Tess, her assualt, the emotional toil this has on her, and how this incident impacts a future relationship. Hardy sheds light on the hypocrisy of Victorian society - men, regardless of what they’ve done in their past, get to be redeemed and reinvent their characters, whereas women are not granted this opportunity. 

“As soon as she could reflect it appalled her, this change in their relative platforms. He who had wrought her undoing was now on the side of the Spirit, while she remained unregenerate.”

This commentary that Victorian society puts more pressure on women to be “pure,” also gives rise to the idea of “sin.” What is sin and what about a “sin” that is committed towards a person, that is out of their control? In a way, one could argue that Hardy is critiquing the church/religious system. All “sins” cannot be categorized in the same way; there are shades of grey and a level of empathy that needs to be present. 

“But,” she said tremulously, “suppose your sin was not of your own seeking.”

In TOTD, we see that the experiences of women are not taken seriously and are often viewed as comedic from the other characters, even other women. 

“Yes, there was pain in it. This question of a women telling her story - the heaviest of crossed to herself - seemed but amusement to others. It was as if people should laugh at martyrdom.” 

This is consistent with the point that Hardy is making that, when men and women have a less than perfect background, it is women who suffer the most. We got the impression that Tess is a bit like a tragic Greek heroine - she endures horrible circumstances outside of her control and no matter how much she tries to move away from her past, she can’t escape. She also has a fatal flaw - she doesn’t stick up enough for herself. As the novel progresses, the reader can sense the pressure that is boiling up inside of Tess and we all know what happens when too much pressure builds up…

Another interesting element that Hardy weaves throughout this narrative is the concept of ancestry. How much are we destined to endure certain hardships, based on what our ancestors experienced? Can we fully break away from our heritage or is it impossible to escape one’s generational curses?

“Sinister design lurked in the woman’s features, a concentrated purpose of revenge on the other sex - so it seemed to him then. The Caroline bodice of the portrait was low - precisely as Tess’s had been when he tucked it in to show the necklace; and again he experienced the distressing sensation of a resemblance between them.”

TOTD is such a modern feeling text, even though it was first published in 1891. Hardy does an excellent job capturing the female voice, and if one didn’t know Hardy had written it, one would wonder if a women wrote this novel. Hardy just knows how to write about people - his characters are flawed and human. Also, one can’t review a Thomas Hardy novel without mentioning the beauty of his writing. Leave it to T-Hard to make the most mundane things in life, like milking a cow, seem poetic. 

Yes, TOTD deals with challenging subjects, however, a lot is alluded to and it is not particularly graphic. If this novel were published in 2021, it’s likely that a contemporary author wouldn’t leave much to the imagination. It takes more skill to be subtle than to just throw things blatantly into a readers’ face. 

Overall, Rebekah and I really enjoyed this novel! 

Rating: 4/5. 

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I favor long books over shorter ones; there’s something about a novel with hundreds of pages that I find intriguing. An author has so much space to dive into all the nuances of a plot and the characters, that it feels as if I’m getting to know a person for the first time. 

However, I know that many people find these tomes intimidating, especially extra long classics. Most of these books aren’t difficult to read, they just require more time and patience. They look more intimidating than they appear and the more you read longer novels, the easier they become to approach. 

Here are a few tactics to help you tackle that massive novel you’ve been wanted to read, but may be a little apprehensive to start:

• Take your time - As I like to say, this is a marathon, not a sprint. Don’t set a deadline and just go with the flow. Sometimes setting a date to have a book completed by can put unnecessary pressure around the task. Reading is not a chore; it’s a pastime that should be savored and enjoyed. This isn’t a homework assignment. Slow and steady wins the race. Savor it. 

• Read with a friend - I tackled Middlemarch with a friend. Having a friend to discuss the book as you move through the text helps to keep you motivated to keep going. It also helps you to bounce ideas off one another and makes the reading process more engaging. Also, creating a common goal with another person helps you to keep each other accountable to push through to the end. 

• Annotate/Take notes - I annotate every book I read and I also have a book journal where I write my overall thoughts on a text. This helps me to keep track of what I’m reading and this helps me to write my reviews. In an exceptionally large book, stop every so often to write out/recap what you’ve just read. When I was making my way through The Brothers Karamazov, I stopped after each part (the book is broken up into four parts) and went back through my annotations from each part and then wrote to my overall thoughts, questions and favorite quotes on that section. These notes are helpful when you need to refer back to something to refresh your memory. 

• Be patient with yourself - Don’t expect yourself to understand everything that’s going on in a text. Some of these books have been studied by scholars for decades and they are still learning from these major works of fiction. That’s part of what joy of reading - every time you revisit a text, it makes more sense as you notice things that you might have missed the first time. If you are reading one of these large texts and you’re having difficulty understanding it, then do some research! There is nothing wrong without googling notes for books to help guide you through the main plot points. Watch or read book reviews to help you get a basic understanding, and seeing what other people pick up on in a text help you to refine your own analytical abilities. Don’t feel bad if you miss some things - no two people read the same book. Allow your personal life experiences help you navigate what you glean from a text.  

This is how I approach large novels. Do you like reading bigger novels? What’s a massive book that you want to read that you’ve been avoiding? 

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“Every life has its kernel, its hub, its epicenter, from which everything flows out, to which everything returns.” 

Hamnet by, Maggie O’Farrell has been floating around the book world for a little over a year with overwhelmingly rave reviews, not to mention that it won the 2020 Women’s Prize for Fiction. This novel, focusing on Shakespeare’s wife Agnes and how the death of their son Hamnet, who died of the Bubonic plague, impacted their lives. O’Farrell mainly hones in on Agnes and Shakespeare takes a back seat - as his name is never mentioned in this 367 page novel. 

Unpopular opinion: I found this novel boring and cliche from beginning to end. I don’t dislike Hamnet, I’m just not impressed. Let’s break this down: 

This novel is broken into two parts. The first part goes back and forth between the summer of 1596 and 15 years prior. Historical fiction novels use this plot device a lot and the first few times I read this literary tactic, I was like, “Ok, cool.” Now, I’m like, “Ah, we’re doing this…again?!”  I do appreciate that this did not carry over into Part Two. 

O’Farrell also uses a really interesting writing tense in Hamnet; it’s intriguing but translates a oddly and clunky at times. It’s written in the present tense, but also uses a lot of passive voice. Passive voice has it’s place - it emphasizes the person or the object that an action happens to, intensifying their experience. This makes sense in this novel, because O’Farrell is really trying to evoke the emotional experiences of these characters to the reader. However, this coupled with O’Farrell’s lyrical and extremely descriptive prose got tedious and actually weighed down her prose. I love descriptive writing, but I also like balance. I found myself getting frustrated because I felt like I had to wade through material that was denser than needed, which is why passive voice is often corrected to active voice. 

I don’t care for Agnes; how she is characterized didn’t work for me at all. Agnes is portrayed as a “seer,” headstrong, “otherworldly”, she’s seen as a witch from the perspective of others, and angsty. I got strong “not like other women!” characterization here and it was a bit cliche for me. Teenage me would have been all over this portrayal of Agnes, but as I’ve gotten older, I appreciate it when an author shows me, instead of hammering a point home constantly. Don’t get me wrong, I like a strong female lead, but when her traits are the cliche traits that a strong female lead has been given time and time again, I just yawn. Lastly, her hand pinching to get a lead on other people’s thoughts really rubbed me the wrong way. Her daughter, Susanna, would hide her hands to keep her thoughts private and sometimes Agnes would try to forcibly take hold of a person’s hand to intrude on their thoughts. Homegirl, that’s how you get clocked in the face. Our minds/thoughts are the one place where we have complete privacy; no one has a right to break in on them and if I was in this book and she tried this on me, I would have told her to meet me at outside at 5PM. Get ready to throw hands. Next.

Judith, however worked for me, as Hamnet’s twin. I found her to be the most interesting character and the one I felt for the most. Twins have a connection that people can’t fathom, unless they have a twin, and I like how O’Farrell hones in on this.

“What is the word, Judith asks her mother, for someone who was a twin but is no longer a twin? … If you’re a wife, Judith continues, and your husband dies, then you’re a widow. And if its parents die, a child becomes an orphan. But what is the word for what I am?”

Overall, though, I felt that all of the characters were pretty static and one-dimensional; they didn’t change much. Also, other than the death of Hamnet, the plot is quite loose. Literary, typically focuses on the characters, with less plot. Commercial fiction usually focuses more on the plot than the characters. This isn’t an official rule, but this is how it’s typically skewed. Hamnet has a loose plot and unchanging characters, so when I take away the lyrical prose and Hamnet’s death, I don’t have much left. 

I want to finish on positive note, because like I said, I don’t dislike this novel. There is one chapter that was absolutely brilliant and it saved this whole story for me. The Flea! O’Farrell describes how the plague spread and how it came to infect Hamnet. This is where the writing style she chose really works - it’s cinematic and gives the reader a panoramic view; if this was translated to the screen, I could see it being shot with drones and B-roll, with dramatic orchestral music. Kudos to O’Farrell for making fleas exciting! 

One last thing - some food for thought, if you will - this novel takes place, technically at the beginning of a pandemic. O’Farrell could not have possibly predicted the state of the world when her novel hit shelves. When we look at the music albums, movies and books that win awards in a particular year, we also have to look at what the current events were that year. If you pay attention, you’ll see a correlation and can often predict which titles will be nominated and awarded. Take that for what you will. 

So there we have it folks, my breakdown of Hamnet and why it’s just “okay,” to me. I didn’t dislike it but I’m not floored. I appreciate what O’Farrell did here and I like that I was able to fly through this novel quickly after finishing complex texts like The Brothers Karamazov or Lolita. 

Rating: 3/5. 

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“To be, or not to be - that is the question:/ Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer/ The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune/ Or to take arms against a sea of troubles/ And by opposing end them.” (Act III, i)

Hamlet is one of Shakespeare’s most iconic plays, perhaps the most iconic. I can see why - a son is visited by his father’s ghost, demanding to be avenged. The ghost states that his brother has slain him and married his wife. Hamlet’s uncle is now his step-father and his mother has now, oddly become his aunt. Scandalous! (Anyone else getting The Lion King vibes, here?) Hamlet’s mission to avenge his dead father, in true Shakespearian fashion, turns into complete and utter chaos. 

I think this play provides interesting commentary about grief, specifically regarding men being allowed to grieve. It’s considered “unmanly” for men to display overwhelming emotion, especially sadness, and Hamlet is berated for mourning for his father. 

“Tis sweet and commendable in your nature Hamlet,/ To give these mourning duties to your father,/ But you must know your father lost a father,/ That father lost, lost his father, and the survivor bound,/ In filial obligation for some terms/ To do obsequious sorrow. But to persever/ In obstinate condolement is a course of impious stubbornness. ’Tis unmanly grief.” 

Shakespeare’s son Hamnet did die approximately four years prior to Hamlet being written. I’m curious to know if Shakespeare is making a comment about his own grief, at having lost a child. 

Shakespeare also has a play within a play, for dramatic irony (he frequently does this in his work). They are actually revealing something pivotal to the plot, to the other characters, and the audience if fully aware of what’s happening. There is commentary that player/actors actually have a significant role in society - they embody a particular period of time and have the power to shape public opinion about a person or an event. 

“Let them be well used, for they are the abstract and brief chroniclers of the time. After your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report while you live.”

I kind of love this element; it feels as if Shakespeare is commenting on his own profession and cheekily letting people know that he can wield a lot of power with his pen. 

Circling back around to Hamlet and his mission to carry out a murder; he becomes a bit obsessed and other characters begin to think he’s gone mad. He treats his love interest, Ophelia, scathingly, and the poor girl is so confused and hurt. He’s got blinders on and he justifies his behavior by saying, “I must be cruel only to be kind.” 

Overall, I found Hamlet enjoyable, but’s it no where near being one of my favorite Shakespeare plays - those positions are held by Julius Casear and Macbeth. Even though this is a tragedy, I still found portions of it to be funny and witty. However, I often found myself spacing out frequently while reading Hamlet. 

Rating: 3/5

Questions to think about:

• Can cruelty every be justified as means to an end?
• Hamlet became obsessed with avenging his father’s death/murder. Did he really become “mad” or was his just completely focused on his task? Can these two things be mutually exclusive?
• What do you think about Shakespeare’s comments about grief? Do you think that men showing “vulnerable” emotions is still taboo in today’s society? 

I’ve got a fresh new stack of books for this month since I finally finished that last four books that took me quite a bit of time to get through. When I was perusing my shelves, these are the four that I was drawn to. I’ll also most likely be adding an additional book this month, after my friend Rebekah and I finally meet to discuss Tess of the D’urbervilles and Lolita - then we’ll pick our next buddy read. Knowing us, it’ll be something bleak and depressing...

• Mrs. Dalloway by, Virginia Woolf - This will be my priority read this month. It’s under 200 pages, but I know it will require some focus. 
• The Greek Way by, Edith Hamilton - I’m rereading The Odyssey next month and I need a refresher on some of the cultural context, themes and devices in Greek literature. 
• The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne by, Brian Moore - After I finish Mrs. Dallaway I’m leaning towards this one, but I may change my mind. 
• The Weather in the Streets by, Rosamond Lehmann - This will probably be pushed to May, but I can dream, right?

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