The Lost Diary of Don Juan: Douglas Carlton Abrams

Image Credit: Birdy

With the arrival of our puppy, Zorro, in the past month or so, I seem to be reading much slower. But even Zorro’s charms could not keep me away from reading, especially a book like “The Lost Diary of Don Juan” by Douglas Carlton Abrams. Let me give you the brief from the book jacket:

Raised by nuns, Don Juan’s ambitions towards the priesthood soon fall to the wayside. Evicted from the convent, he is taken under the wing of the Marquis de la Mota, who tutors him in skills both courtly and amorous – and provides him with the protection of the King, saving him from the wrath of the Inquisition. Yet it is only when Don Juan embarks on the most perilous adventure of all – falling in love – that he finds his life truly in danger…

Now who can resist a summary such as this? Although most scholars have denied the existence of Don Juan himself, a small group does also believe that he is more than fictional character.

All this was enough to rouse my curiosity, so I was soon lost with Don Juan and his various amores in 16th century Spain. Don Juan’s portrait emerges slowly as he flits from woman to woman and lets us into his beliefs about life in the process. “The only secret I have used to unlock the bedchambers of the women I have known is their own unquenched thirst for life. The greatest power in the world, greater than kings and popes, is the desire of women. Love, the priests tell us, rules the heavens, but does desire not rule the earth?"

As we read, we realize that Don Juan is not all flirt and fun. He has a vulnerable side to him as well. The impression we get of him is that of a man who masks his emotions and hides behind his dalliance. His true self has long been buried under layers of stolen kisses, hidden embraces and passionate lovemaking that is momentarily satisfactory. While the mere thought of Don Juan makes many ladies blush, he himself remains unmoved. Yet, we learn that the sighs of many women fail to soothe his loneliness. Until he meets Dona Ana. And then he is taken in by a feeling that had been locked away deep within.

I know Don Juan’s sketch sounds like the terribly clichéd chivalrous man who does not show his true emotions. But what elevates him above this cliché is his straightforward and blunt manner, which acknowledges his loneliness, the painfulness of his past and his unscrupulous dalliances. He tells his friend and coachman Cristobal, “You know me better than that. I am incapable of love or marriage.” He endears himself to us through his principle of seduction –he targets only lonely housewives and he believes that “A chambermaid’s modesty is as important to her as an Infanta’s is to the Empire.”

The book tends to sag a bit in the middle with a lull in Don Juan’s life and his pining for Dona Ana. Towards the end the action picks up again and we are again following him over rooftops and on horseback as he escapes and chases alternatively. I wouldn’t say I loved the book but I wouldn’t say I didn’t like it either. I enjoyed a lot of it, especially since it’s laced with a bit of wry humor. I also felt a bit bored too and I did skip a few paragraphs here and there. The last 50 pages or so were the best. Don Juan did not seduce me as much as he did the other ladies but ironically his respect towards women did impress me. I will leave you with my favorite quote from the book –

“Fear is a thief, Cristobal. Don’t let it steal your life.”


Verdict: Fun read. Some really nice quotes here and there.

Rating: 3/5

Versedays: Clearing at Dawn by Li Bai

Image Credit: Birdy

Thoughts hit upon a new angle for Versedays when we went visiting Shravanabelagola this weekend. Climbing up the couple of hundred steps to a cluster of ancient temples atop the hill, the conversation went something like this:


Thoughts: Say Birdy, we all write poetry.

Birdy: (ignoring protesting leg muscles) Umm yeah, we do.

Thoughts: So why don’t we feature it in Versedays?

Birdy: (stopping to think) Oh yeah, that’s a good idea!

Thoughts: (pleased smile) Yes and we need not torture our readers too much. We can feature one poem of each person each month. So if we put up my poem on one of the Versedays this month, then next month will be yours and so on.

Birdy: Sounds great! Phew and finally here we are at the top!

(Soul who has already clambered ahead shouts in joyful agreement!)


Now readers, what do YOU guys think of this idea? Since Versedays is so well-loved by all of you, do let us know what you feel, all criticisms and suggestions welcome!

Bantering done, let’s move on to this week’s poem. For this Versedays, I chose one of China’s most popular poets. Li Bai also known as Li Po is one of China’s foremost literary figures and his works have undergone various translations including those by British poet Ezra Pound. By far his most famous poem is “Drinking Alone by Moonlight.” But instead of that I want to present one of his lesser known poems called “Clearing at Dawn.” A short piece, but the imagery and exquisite language had me transported to the place he has described in the poem. I am sure the original in Chinese would be much more scintillating.

Clearing at Dawn

by

Li Bai aka Li Po


The fields are chill, the sparse rain has stopped;
The colours of Spring teem on every side.
With leaping fish the blue pond is full;
With singing thrushes the green boughs droop.
The flowers of the field have dabbled their powdered cheeks;
The mountain grasses are bent level at the waist.
By the bamboo stream the last fragment of cloud
Blown by the wind slowly scatters away.

Translated by: Arthur Waley (1919)

The Six Sacred Stones: Matthew Reilly

Image Credit: Amazon

Welcome to a world of nail biting fast paced ever-on-the-edge adventure!

In our daily sober routine and unwillingly admitted mundane life, how many of us wouldn't love to be part of a epic adventure? especially if that adventure involved ancient diamonds and saving the world? The Six Sacred Stones by Matthew Reilly is just that.

One lazy afternoon while lazily browsing through books, I stumbled upon this book with a rather ordinary title of "The Six Sacred Stones" but with an intriguing picture of concentric circles overlaid atop writings in ancient script - and I just bought it to add to my "To-be-read-sometime" shelf. And today I am glad I bought this book, it helped me live "my' epic adventure although a virtual one (all in my mind) which in turn helped me forget some foulness doing rounds in my life... But I needn't be grateful for it - really. Read on to know why...

Reading this book gave me a mixed feeling of reading a distorted history book, playing a computer game where the goons keep coming at you and never stop, and being mixed up with an action hero who never dies - All at once. Agreed, this book has enough spice - like ancient secrets coming out in the open in the present day, the bad guy who wants to use ancient secrets for their own selfish motives, the riveting race between the good and bad guys to get to the next secret place. But there was something missing which I couldn't quite place. More on this later though...

Jack West Jr. is your typical ex-military man hero who took an early retirement from the armed services because he had nobler things to be in life - like saving the world. Typical of any "thriller" our hero has his entourage of supporters, meet a few of them - Zoe also an ex-military person from Ireland, serves as the female love interest but mostly in the subtext otherwise she too is busy fighting off the goons. Then there is the "Sky Monster" who flies planes/ copters or anything with wings as and when needed to get this hero and his friends out of trouble. The "Master" is essentially your archeologist-Indiana-Jones who uncovers the buried treasures or at least places where the treasures are buried if not the treasure itself. The gifted little 7-year-old conveniently-orphan also conveniently-adopted Lily is proficient in ancient languages and her best friend Abhi who is also conveniently a genius in Math!!

And so this perfect little entourage goes about saving the world, starting with jumping off the Al Burj barely seconds before it collapses. Diving deep into the recesses’ of sarcophagus of Egypt and meeting the deadly Neetha tribe in Amazonian Nile basin and barely making it alive out of there too!

Like I said - this action packed book has it all - booby traps, uncut diamonds the size of bricks! a crazy dark hole in the sky out to suck all life out of our dear earth - science meets ancient history, this...

Although a riveting read, if it hadn't been a foul weekend I would never have read past a mere 10 pages of this thoroughly teenage-ish popular fiction. I needed something light to take my mind off a "working weekend" :( and this was perfect for such an occasion. No doubt if they ever make a movie with lots of fake muscles and tons of graphics thrown in, it will make a blockbuster movie considering our love for "end-of-the-world" movies; but as a book, it just doesn't cut. The characters so stereotypical, the actions so predictable and bond-style racy, the never-dying hero surviving time-after-time-after-time ... that you realize there is something so fake about this book. But luckily for you, this does not happen WHILE you are reading the book. Long after you've put the book down, you are left feeling empty and wondering what-the-hell-was-that-all-about?-AND did-I-just-waste-half-a-precious-day-on-that-crappy-book?

The blurb on the back of the book says "Think Indiana Jones meets Da Vinci code" I would go a step further and say Think Indiana Jones-Meets Da Vinci Code-meets National Treasure (for there really is a treasure) AND then think Da Vinci Code meets Bourne Identity series for "the adventure and the chase parts"!!! Phew, that's a lot of thinking for you - instead just read the book! Yuck! What a waste of time...

Apparently this is the second book in a trilogy by penned by Matthew Reilly; then again the book itself neither gives that feeling nor specifies it, you can read any of these on their own [unlike Classic Lord of the Rings/ Harry Potter – which click only when read in the right order].



Verdict: A passable time pass

Rating: 1/5

P.S: All references to “weekend” refer to the weekend of 17/18 July, NOT 24/25. July 24 was awesome where the three of us Soul, Bird and I spent a nice weekend in the quaint historical town of Shravanabelgola :)

Versedays: Without Warning by Sappho

Image Credit: TammyBruce

Great news! Versedays selection of Phyllis Wheatley’s poem “An Hymn to the Evening” along with the book review of Ann Rinaldi’s “Hang a Thousand Trees With Ribbons” has been published at The Daily Basics! Thanks a ton to Cynthia who is the editor of The Daily Basics and also an avid follower of our blog. She has also given a glowing introduction to Lifewordsmith and we are absolutely thrilled!

Since Versedays has received much appreciation we thought we should take this chance to introduce poets from around the world. English and American poets are undoubtedly widely read. But how many are familiar with Li Bai or Charles Baudelaire? So we will try and bring you some variety and a global flavor to this feature, henceforth.

This week’s Versedays features a poem by Sappho, one of the earliest woman poets from Greece. A lot of fragments of her poetry have been discovered and she is known for her simple haikus. Sappho lived sometime between 610-580 BC and is known for her progressive thinking – she was one of the first to write about lesbianism. The one am putting up this week is characteristic of her poetry that contains sharp imagery, highly effective terse wordage and evocative deep emotions. Don't be fooled by the length of her poems. They are like miniature paintings.

Without Warning

by

Sappho

Without warning
as a whirlwind
swoops on an oak
Love shakes my heart

The Call of the Wild: Jack London

Image Credit: Birdy

Just today I had mentioned to Soul and Vandy that Marley and Me by Josh Grogan is one of the best dog stories that I have read. After reading Jack London’s “The Call of the Wild” I have to revise that slightly. As the book’s jacket summarizes –

The Call of the Wild is the story of Buck, a dog stolen from his home and thrust into the merciless life of the Arctic north to endure hardship, bitter cold and the savage lawlessness of man and beast.

This well loved American classic is a nightmare for dog lovers and a gripping adventure tale for others. I unfortunately fall into the first category. Buck grows up well-loved, his evenings spent lazing by the fire at Judge Miller’s feet. His life changes when the Judge’s gardener slips him over to rough and tumble men traveling through the harsh climes of the Arctic as part of the Klondike gold rush. Its cold, white landscape with temperatures 50 below zero seems to encrust human hearts in ice. Buck’s owners frequently club him and the other dogs into submission and often Buck walks around with sore wounds and lacerations. I cringed with each of Buck’s whines and raged with his howls.

But turns out that Buck is made of sterner stuff. He endures a lot more before he is rescued by a kind man named John Thornton. Buck is nursed back to health and he becomes devoted to Thornton even saving the latter’s life a couple of times.

London explores themes of friendship, betrayal, trust and devotion through Buck’s point of view. When Manuel the gardener coils rope around his neck and hands him over to the gruff man Buck did not protest. “Buck had accepted the rope with quiet dignity. To be sure, it was an unwonted performance; but he had learned to trust in men he knew, and to give them credit for a wisdom that outreached his own.”

It’s not too late before Buck realizes that his trust has been shattered and it’s then that he sets about the business of survival. Buck’s undergoes exhaustion and pain with a certain dignity. But there is a wild side to him. He does not tolerate the aggressive advances of another dog named Spitz. London sketches some vivid fight scenes between Buck and Spitz, which almost took the breath out of me, the silent spectator.

After rivalry comes friendship and love when he meets Thornton. “Love, genuine passionate love was his for the first time. This he had never experienced at Judge Miller’s down in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley. With the Judge’s sons, hunting and tramping, it had been a working partnership; with the Judge’s grandsons, a sort of pompous guardianship; and with the Judge himself, a stately and dignified friendship. But love that was feverish and burning, that was adoration, that was madness, it had taken John Thornton to arouse. This man had saved his life, which was something; but, further, he was the ideal master. Other men saw to the welfare of their dogs from a sense of duty and business expedience; he saw to the welfare of his as if they were his own children…”

Buck’s adventures do not stop with just meeting Thornton. And here I will stop further descriptions so that you are tempted enough to read the book and follow Buck’s fascinating journey. London’s story is carved out of characters from his own life. He himself had been gripped by the gold rush and it was upon his return that he turned his experiences into novellas like this. My edition has London's White Fang too apart from The Call of the Wild as the book cover above shows. I will read that after a break of a couple of other books.

Though, at times the narrative tends to feel a bit like a documentary drama, I was taken in by Buck. I loved him. Such a gallant and loyal dog can win any heart. So go ahead, pick up this book and spend some time with this rare breed. And yes, Marley might be the world's cutest and naughtiest dog but Buck is perhaps the world's most dignified and heroic one.

Verdict: Dog lovers brace yourself for the ultimate dog! Others be prepared to be touched by a faith and devotion only an animal is capable of.

Rating: 5/5

The Ninth Life of Louis Drax : Liz Jensen

                                                Image Credit : Fantastic Fiction.

It's surprising the gems that I suddenly find on my bookshelf. I seem to have bought Liz Jensen's The Ninth Life of Louis Drax almost five years ago. And for some inexplicable reason, never got around to reading it. Last week though, I picked it up after Home. I still am reading A Dog Called Henry, which is tediously being turned over, one page at a time, one day at a time, but in the meantime Louis' fascinating story just flew!

The Ninth Life of Louis Drax has been described as a 'psychological thriller,' but that is too easy a classification. Jensen explores so much of the darker mysteries of the human mind, and questions the existence of the soul. How much do we know the mind? Its powers? Its almost incalculable mystery? But she also makes us question the limitations of human behavior, and the conditions we impose on it. Louis, who narrates part of the story, apart from Dr Dannachet, is a 'Disturbed Boy.' Involved in a series of accidents from the time he was born, Louis in what seems his final accident is pushed down a ravine, ostensibly by his father, while his horrified mother looks on.

Pronounced dead by doctors at the hospital, he defies medical science by resurrecting himself, a la Lazarus at the autopsy table. Louis, however, slips into a deep coma, and that is what brings him to Dr Dannachet, apparently a renowned doctor with coma cases. I feel that the research here is a bit sketchy - the eminent doctor does not really seem to show just why he is so good with coma cases. If sitting down and talking with comatose patients were to do the trick that is. But here is the mystery that Liz Jensen invites the reader to solve : what happened to Louis? What happened that day at the family picnic when Louis slipped down the ravine? Where is his Dad?

It's not that difficult to figure out the person behind the mystery, but Jensen does weave in a few deft touches here and there, including Dr Dannachet's sleepwalking-telepathic-communication with Louis. That was new. But even if you can spot the 'who did it' a long while back, the book still remains a page-turner. Jensen has managed to use Louis' nine-year old voice very well, and has fleshed out the boy's character superbly. The other narrator, Dr Dannachet, is really an irritant - for a doctor, he has way too many problems of his own, and his obvious failure as a doctor start to rankle. But Jensen raises quite a few moral issues - and that is what makes us recoil our own judgmental principles, and read into the often appalling picture of humankind that Jensen invites us to see.

Verdict: Page-turning thriller. (Ok, I got scared while reading in the night. Ok, I really did not want to read it in the night. Ok, Louis scared me! Hush..)


Rating : 3.5/5

Short Girls: Bich Minh Nguyen

Image Credit: fantasticfiction

I have hardly been reading off late being busy with a few of my cousins choosing to visit at the same time. Nevertheless, I always manage to squeeze in at least two pages before I go to bed. Painful progress that, but I finished “Short Girls” by Bich Minh Nguyen in this manner. Here is the summary from the publisher, Penguin’s website:

Linny and Van Luong are two second generation Vietnamese immigrant sisters from the American mid-West. Linny, the youngest, is pretty and popular but trapped in a cycle of dead-end jobs and hopeless affairs. Van, plain and socially awkward, is an overachieving immigration lawyer with a seemingly picture perfect marriage. The sisters have been locked in a relationship of mutual disdain for as long as they can remember. When their eccentric elderly father, inventor of the "Luong Arm" (a gadget to help short people reach objects in high places), finally decides to take the oath for American citizenship in order to compete in an American Idol style reality show for inventors, the sisters must return to their childhood home to plan a party to celebrate the decision that took thirty years to make. As they navigate their secrets, silences, and all that has seemed out of reach to them for so long, Van and Linny realise that they are not so different from each other after all…

This book was one of the most delightful ones I have read in a long time. I wouldn’t say it’s an exciting or fast-paced read. Instead, it takes us in its arms gently guides us through the rhythms of its characters. We become almost present in the book ourselves, watching Van and Linny’s lives unfold.

Nguyen’s writing is insightful but gentle. In Short Girls, we don’t see sharp outbursts from Linny when she discovers her relationship with Gary, who is a married man, is going awry. We don’t see Mrs. Luong letting out her anger with her disinterested and almost indifferent husband Mr. Luong. Neither do we see Van dynamically disagreeing with her obnoxious husband Miles. Yet, they all stand tall as strong women in their own right, having a certain individuality of their own. They make lots of mistakes, they are aware of it but they prefer to learn from the consequences. This is where Nguyen excels. Her characters are very human.

Although Mr. Luong had never really taken interest in his family’s lives, being absorbed only in his inventions, he apparently had a certain vulnerability about him that made people help him all the time.

“Mr. Luong had always claimed independence, saying no one could boss him or tell him what to do, but in truth, people were always helping him. Even when he and Mrs. Luong fought she still left meals for him and kept the rice cooker on warm. She made sure the basement bathroom was stocked with enough toilet paper and sometimes she left the newspaper leaning against the door for him. And how many times had she, Linny, and Van gone to the stairwell to listen for music? If the telltale Vietnamese folk and opera songs were playing, they knew MR. Luong would be at work in his studio, which meant he couldn’t be disturbed. They had flowed around him, treated him like a stubborn rock in a river.”

I loved the way Nguyen has portrayed the slowly developing relation between the two sisters. They, who once couldn’t get past a few words, begin to realize that they can understand each other after all. Linny and Van’s portraits were so well wrought. While Van is an achiever in the common sense of the word, she is shy and traditional in her thinking. Her life has been quite eventless, following the set path of a dutiful daughter, until she gets married to Miles. Linny on the other hand has had quite a colorful life and it attains a certain amount of calm only after she reconnects with her family, chiefly her sister.

Short Girls explores relationships. Not just between sisters, parents, husbands or friends but even with the country that you stay in. Van and Linny are second generation immigrants living in the U.S. and through them we get a perspective of Vietnamese as well as general immigrant life in the States. That includes their insecurities and fears and their knowledge of how others perceive them. Ngyuen artfully brings out the identity crisis that is typical of many immigrants though people like her father remain staunchly Vietnamese. To Linny, Vietnam is but an alien country.

“To think that she and Van might have been born there, that they might have lived entirely different lives had their parents not fled the country – this hypothetical seemed to become more potent as Linny grew older. It stood in sharp contrast to their childhood of playgrounds and MTV. Linny had always felt relieved to be American, and the fact of her Vietnameseness often seemed accidental.”

The only point of imperfection that I felt was that the book moved a tad too slowly in parts. Nguyen’s attention to details can sometimes bog down. That is but a small hiccup, which soon goes away in the lulling flow of Nguyen’s writing.

Verdict: Slow and steady going this!

Rating: 3.7/5

Versedays: Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein

Image Credit: thingamababy

I had heard about Shel Silverstein vaguely before. But I realized what he was famous for only when I read his poem “Where the Sidewalk Ends.” Turns out there is an entire book of poems by that name. Silverstein is a much loved American children’s poet and his poems are funny and light to read. The book begins with an invite –

If you are a dreamer, come in.
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,
A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer . . .
If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire,
For we have some flax golden tales to spin.
Come in!
Come in!

Isn’t it such a beautiful invite?! The poem too is wonderful. What I loved about it is the dreamy aura it creates of a better world on the other end of the sidewalk. He says that children know of such a world, and probably we are to learn from them. I read this poem over and over a couple of times, I liked it so much. And I definitely loved the invite and I want to read the entire book!

Where the Sidewalk Ends

by

Shel Silverstein

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

About Us

A blog is never complete without an About Us page and I realized now that we didn't have one! Well, it's never too late, so I thought I might as well put it up now. Lifewordsmith started a couple of years ago with SoulMuser wanting to keep a track of what she reads. She introduced Birdy to the blog and Birdy was hooked. The circle slowly expanded until Thoughts joined in. There were a few others too, initially, but they weren't really avid book bloggers.

So now it's filtered down to us book junkies, always high on words and always savoring the rush that comes from reading a good book. It never fails to jumpstart a dreary day or liven up a rainy evening.

Here is a bit about each of us, so that you have an idea of what we are like :) We all live in Bangalore, India and we are all in jobs that require us to sit at a desk the entire day with a computer in front. But we come home to the best companions that life can give - books of course!


SoulMuser has always been a bit of a puzzle to herself. Writes a bit, travels a bit, and reads a lot more. She has taught English in China (and considering the present status of English in the country, you can see she was not very successful), dabbled in writing about cars, and is at present a weary writer masquerading as a research analyst in an investment firm. Her dream love has always been a book.


Birdy, is a writer/philosopher/good food lover/fitness enthusiast. She is a self-confessed chocolate junkie who loves her books and music. Travel and photography keep her insanity intact. She is perpetually wide-eyed at seeing life through the lens. She thinks that there is always time enough to stop and observe a crawling ladybug, watch a glorious sunset or simply have a cup of coffee with good conversation for company. For her life is not just a box of chocolates but much more.


Thoughts is an occasional writer, photographer, sports/exercise enthusiast and a traveler; but always always a passionate reader, a deep thinker and a wanderer (in the mind). She loves Bangalore, a city she has always lived in and where she currently works for a multi-national corporation. She also loves her rare solitude walks and silent evenings in this teeming city of close to 10 million people.

Home : Marilynn Robinson

                                             Image Credit : BSC Review
Was it just last year that I read Marilynn Robinson's acclaimed Gilead? I know I loved that book, but sadly, remember very little of it. Is that an indictment on the love I lavished on it? Does failing memory hint at half-loved truths? So many books I have loved over the years, stories I immersed myself in, words I drank deeply of, and wisdom I breathed in, yet I can't remember them. Who is to blame? The books or my memory? Ah, I wonder.

Home by Marilynn Robinson is in a way, a sister companion to Gilead. Robinson's way is to write unhurriedly. There is a sense of quiet even she portrays the deepest despair, and the most vulnerable frailties in man. Her prose is really like poetry, to be read amidst a river somewhere, wildflowers blooming and your own mind stilled for that instant as you lose yourself in the words that one of America's greatest living novelists can offer you. In Home, we return to Gilead, that pastoral town, where the Reverend Boughton is living his last days out in the company of his daughter, Glory, herself returning from a failed relationship, and the scarcely believable return of Jack, the prodigal son. Bear in mind that Robinson's novels have a strong Biblical undercurrent. Religion runs strongly through all her themes, and she loves pitting the unbeliever against the believer, in this case Jack against the Reverend Boughton, his father and Reverend Ames, his best friend.

So unveils Home. It's not a novel that sets alight the reader's stage with action. Rather, the action is in small gestures. The touch of a hand. A ring of laughter. A shared memory. Gentle teasing as Jack and Glory get to know each other after 20 years. And their father to watch them over. They tried hard to please him, knowing as Jack does that his presence itself is an ache to his father, a reminder of a past that best remains to be forgotten. Jack is the eternal tortured soul - the fallen man. Is there redemption for him?  In the beginning, I sympathized with him, but towards the end I was frustrated with him. Jack remained a mystery, the motive for his actions inscrutable to me.

Towards the end, Glory describes Jack as "a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, and as one from whom men hide their face." Somehow, that seems so cruel. Almost excruciatingly sad. But that's how the novel is. An overwhelming work of despair. But not despair that humiliates. But despair that humbles. And in the end, strangely exalts. Perdition may just be life, after all. I can't say I understood all of the novel, maybe I read it too fast. But there is plenty to think about. And oh well, like Glory would have said, "Ah, Jack, you make me sad."

Verdict: Not quite in the same class as Gilead. But a sadder book. Oh! Such a sad book.


Rating : 3.5/5

The Magnificent Meaulnes : Alain Fournier

                                                             Image Credit : Amazon

A bewitching tale of adolescence, love, adventure and the mysterious spaces in between - Sunday Times 

It has captured the hearts, and fantasies, of generations of adolescents and lingered on their bookshelves, and in their souls, well into middle age…a tale of enchantment - Independent  

It is an extraordinary book, part fairytale or romance, part realistic study of French provincial life, sometimes grim, in the last years of the 19th century; and some of its fascination comes from this curiously hybrid quality- Spectator

Such admiration. And I drew a dud! I just couldn't fathom Alain Fournier's acclaimed classic, The Magnificent Meaulnes. The story, in hindsight, and on the back cover appears simple enough. Young Augustin Meaulnes, on one escapade, chances upon a fantastic celebration at a castle in the countryside where he meets the girl of his dreams. The party is thrown to celebrate the arrival of Frantz, the castle's owner's son, and his fiancee. And all the fantastic celebrations are thrown asunder when Frantz returns bewildered, and distraught without his fiancee. Augustin and the narrator, Francois spend the next three years of their adolescence trying to find the path to his adventure, to his dreams and to the girl he irrevocably gave his heart to.

Ideally, this novel should be read in one sitting, and without too many breaks. I made the mistake of going on a vacation in the middle of this, and then trying to return to the story, the flow also irrevocably lost. Some of the French terms eluded me, and that is always so frustrating. But I couldn't understand the mystery of Augustin - Francois and the rest of his schoolmates are half in love with him, but throughout the novel, I really could not sense the greatness in him that his schoolmates fawned over. He redeems himself in the end, and that ending clears up a lot of the frustration that you feel while reading the book. But I couldn't endear myself to the book,although Francois certainly was a lovable character and so too was Mademoiselle Galais, who is exquisitely portrayed.  This is a love elegy, tender and touching but at the same time, slightly incomprehensible. Perhaps, that is what makes it a classic.

Verdict : If you love classics, please try to read this, and let me know how you feel!


Rating : 3/5

Hang a Thousand Trees with Ribbons: Ann Rinaldi

Image Credit: fantasticfiction

Life has been hectic since the past one month. Lots of guests at home and a vacation too. So I haven’t been able to read as much I usually do. Hence I apologize for this rather disconnected sounding review, which mirrors the thousand interruptions I faced while I was reading the book! Ann Rinaldi’s “Hang a Thousand Trees with Ribbons: The Story of Phillis Wheatley,” turned out to be quite an enjoyable read despite the interruptions. It tells the story of the first African American poet who was initially bought as a slave into the Wheatley home. But the Wheatleys treated Phillis more like a member of the family, especially Nathaniel, the Wheatley’s son, who educates Phillis. He teaches her to read and write and soon Phillis discovers her talent for poetry. The Wheatleys encourage her and it’s not long before she begins to be recognized. However, Phillis now sees that fame has a price and she must make certain choices to maintain her peace.

For one, this book introduced me to a person of such historical importance. I wasn’t aware of Phillis Wheatley at all until I read the book. Rinaldi writes in very simple language peppered with the turns of phrases particular to 18th century America. Told in the first person, from Phillis’ viewpoint, we learn about the political atmosphere then and more importantly about the attitude towards blacks. America, then, was enslaved in its own skewed attitudes towards blacks and belief in slavery. Phillis was lucky to have landed in the progressive thinking Wheatley home.

But not so progressive that Phillis could confess her love for Nathaniel. In fact, Nathaniel himself is an interesting shade of character. He appears liberal and loving towards Phillis but I could never place him. Some of the comments he hurled at Phillis were mean and everyone around Phillis warned her about “dallying” with him. And he was very clear that Phillis had all the freedom and there was no need for her to be completely free as an individual.

I don’t want to reveal more from here because this is where the book gets interesting and it’s best read than paraphrased. I especially liked the fact that Rinaldi raises a lot of questions in the end, which had me thinking for quite some time. The most interesting point she raises was that the Wheatley’s attitude towards Phillis can be interpreted in two ways. One, that they “rescued her from terrible circumstances” giving her the opportunity of a lifetime. The second is that their mollycoddling did not prepare Phillis for real life and that they considered her nothing but a plaything to show off to their friends. Personally, I would say it’s a bit of both. They did treat her better than other families but it also proved to be Phillis’ bane.

Some reviews have pointed out that the book is written on extremely simple terms and that it lacks a certain depth, especially in Phillis' thoughts. To me, that was the very charm of the book. D0 read this book and tell me what you think.

Verdict: Very enjoyable read


Rating: 3.5/5

Versedays: An Hymn to the Evening by Phillis Wheatley

Image Credit: Birdy

Ah I feel all nice and refreshed after a week long break in Indonesia, spent clambering up volcanoes, watching sunrises and trekking miles! But the born wanderer that I am, I am already thinking of where to go next. I had taken one book with me on the trip, Ann Rinaldi's "Hang a Thousand Trees with Ribbons: The Story of Phillis Wheatley," which I just finished reading. It is about the first African American poet Phillis Wheatley and was quite an interesting read. Review coming soon but meanwhile I thought in honor of this courageous woman, this week's Versedays must feature a poem by her. So here goes...

An Hymn to the Evening

by

Phillis Wheatley


Soon as the sun forsook the eastern main
The pealing thunder shook the heav'nly plain;
Majestic grandeur! From the zephyr's wing,
Exhales the incense of the blooming spring.
Soft purl the streams, the birds renew their notes,
And through the air their mingled music floats.

Through all the heav'ns what beauteous dies are spread!
But the west glories in the deepest red:
So may our breasts with ev'ry virtue glow,
The living temples of our God below!

Fill'd with the praise of him who gives the light,
And draws the sable curtains of the night,
Let placid slumbers sooth each weary mind,
At morn to wake more heav'nly, more refin'd;
So shall the labours of the day begin
More pure, more guarded from the snares of sin.

Night's leaden sceptre seals my drowsy eyes,
Then cease, my song, till fair Aurora rise.

Angel: Colleen McCullough

  Image Credit: FantasticFiction

I SO want Harriet Purcell's life! and I am guessing most girls I know would want the same too!!! Harriet Purcell is the protagonist of yet another Colleen McCullough's (CM) skillful penmanship titled "Angel". Not that I have read any of CM before but have heard loads about her great "Thorn Birds".

On to Story - Yummm! - Harriet is your average 21 year old living with her parents (and this is important) in Australia in the 1960s. She is brilliant, smart, sort of cockily witty and also apparently attractive in the looks department going by how many men she attracts and what they say to and about her.

At the start of the story, she has just graduated as a qualified X-Ray technician and is about to join one of the more posh hospitals in Sidney.

She wants to go out and live on her own and find a "proper" boyfriend for herself not the spineless dope "David Bloody Murchinson" she is stuck with at the moment. More about him later :)

She gets her wish in a normal sort of way - at work she meets Papeya Sutama, Pappy for short, who one day invites her to dinner at her place. Pappy lives in a-large-house-converted-into-several -smaller-houses-with-shared-bathrooms-and-toilets – in short a “rooming house”  (if any of you are a Kannadiga then you would instantly understand this system which goes by the name"Vatara"). So Harriet visits Pappy and Pappy's landlady offers Harriet accommodation for a mere three quid (whatever that means). But the only problem being Pappy's flat/building is right at the corner of a very famous "red light area" in Sidney!!!

The Scene where she breaks the news to her family and her boyfriend that she is going to live on her own and that it is right on the fringes of a well known "area" - that in itself is worth every penny (or rupee) you paid for this book, LOL I can still roll with laughter just imagining that scene!

So she moves.

It is then the real story begins. She comes to live at "The House" at Kings cross, Sidney's famous red light area of the 60s. It is amazing to see Harriet a normal 21 year who has never met the ‘queer’ gang to open up and expand her knowledge of the world. Through her we get to sample every variety of queer - the gays, the lesbos, the transvestites, the crossdressers, the mesdames who run the brothels and proper prostitutes. But they are not shown in some sort of a dark out of this world sex scene, instead they are shown as just people ordinary people who eat and drink and sleep just like the rest of us. So Surprise suprise! there is NOTHING queer about these people... like she says they are "just people". (This is the reality part)

Variety is the spice of this book! Throughout this story we not only meet the above sampling of people but are also introduced to a variety boyfriend-material as well. There is the David-Bloody-Murchinson type right at the start who opposes Harriet’s moving out to her own place. And his opposition stems from the fact that the Murchinson-type catch their girlfriends quite young (say 16/17 which is what happened to Harriet) so that they can mould them into whatever they want and ultimately into their implicit submission. Thankfully our Harriet has enough verve to break out of the Murchinson-mould.

Then there is the Harold-type who has been a mamma's boy throughout his life and when the mother dies goes on to have an affair with a mother-type figure - the landlady of "The House". And any friendship the landlady has - be it with another male or even a female is seen as an intrusion into the bubble he has created for himself and his mother-lady. Harold another resident of The House, then looks upon Harriet with pure evil in his eyes - which gives the creepy bit to the tale. (This and the above are I-Said-so-About-guys part)

Then there is the Toby-type another resident of the The House. An artist but not a dreamy type. He is a diligent artist who likes to keep his work area spotless just like his dishes - no prizes for guessing the he suffers  -  Obssesive Compulsive Disorder. In the Women's department, he likes his women short because he himself is short. And tall people of either sex make him uncomfortable. And for all that he falls in love with Harriet who is clearly several inches taller than him!

Then there is Dr.Duncan Forsythe NOT a resident of The House but would gladly become one for Harriet's sake. Dr.D is a lot older than Harriet with two sons who are 13 and 11. However, his problem is he is married to a cold-fish who does not give him his "nooky-in-bed" even once in a while. But, he being a good man, has never visited a Prostitute, never had any affair with any of the ever-willing nurses or any other women staff at the hospital - that is until Harriet comes along... this good doctor does a total rebound and falls for Harriet hook line and sinker! (This and the above is the fairy tale part).

And now that you have met all the Principal characters, there is only one person left to introduce - the Angel. Angel is Flo the daughter of Mrs. Delvecchio Schwartz (D H), the  landlady of "The House". The one person who "Harriet" falls hopelessly in love with is Flo!

Angel/Flo is not your average 4-5 year old girl. To understand her, I recommend you read Soulmusers review of "The Art of Running in the Rain" especially the bit about talking as a way of communication. This is because Flo never talks! She communicates with her crayon-scribbling and "thoughts". She is as Harriet puts it "god's experiment" who has been put on this earth way before her time. Our world is just not ready for her type as yet. Did I mention that Mrs. D H is also a fortune teller? a fortune teller with cards and "The Glass"? and that she has rich but loyal clientele, thanks to the accuracy of her predictions? But the most reliable medium through which she gets almost all of her prophecies is Flo! yes I hear gasps.. surprising, eh? (And this is the fancy/magical suspension-of-disbelief part)

This very unique set of motley characters are there. The stage is set - so what happens when Evil-eye-Harold stabs Mrs D H to death after a New year's party? What family secrets come tumbling out? Among her two lovers who will Harriet choose? Will she become a "house-breaker" by choosing the Dr. D? or will she sell herself way too short by choosing the short-Toby? (And this is the mystery/thriller part)

Read this exciting book to find out :)

On a serious note - C M's use of abbreviations - actual abbreviations used by docs/nurses/hospital community throughout the book lends an amazing credibility to the story.

Angel is a definite page turner and an amazing story about love, instinct and feeling things at several levels – even psychical!  And of course the characterizations are awesome, especially Harriet - totally love her! She is obviously good at her work, has unending energy, certain vitality and most importantly spunk, I'll give her that... Like I said... I want her life!

Verdict: A brilliant piece of work! Must read!

Rating: 5/5

Versedays: The Flower by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Image Credit: Birdy

Alfred Lord Tennyson is a Victorian poet who is commonly present in school and college syllabi. And most often than not we read his “Charge of the Light Brigade” or “The Lotus Eaters.” But how many of us have heard of his poem “The Flower”? I chanced upon this sweet poem while searching for Versedays and I thought this is perfect. Tennyson shows how society is generally averse to anything new but then it is also contemptuous of commonality. Both these points are shown beautifully through The Flower. Read on…

The Flower

by

Alfred Lord Tennyson


Once in a golden hour
I cast to earth a seed.
Up there came a flower,
The people said, a weed.

To and fro they went
Thro' my garden bower,
And muttering discontent
Cursed me and my flower.

Then it grew so tall
It wore a crown of light,
But thieves from o'er the wall
Stole the seed by night.

Sow'd it far and wide
By every town and tower,
Till all the people cried,
"Splendid is the flower!"

Read my little fable:
He that runs may read.
Most can raise the flowers now,
For all have got the seed.

And some are pretty enough,
And some are poor indeed;
And now again the people
Call it but a weed.