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3.46 AVERAGE
3.46 AVERAGE
This book was really tough for me to rate because of the way it is written, which is both a boon and a curse. The book is written in three parts: a historical tale told by the narrator; a diary by one of the characters in this tale explaining his side of things; and a short segment by the narrator explaining how he came upon the diary. The big issue is that the bulk of the plot is played out in the first half of the book and then simply rehashed in the second, and the inner psychology of the diary loses its impact quickly, IMO, although it has some spurts of interest again later.
The darkly humorous way in which the author skewers those who would take a particular religious view to the extreme is pretty fantastic - it seems like he is skewering organized religion as a whole more in the first part, but through the second half he is very clear to repeatedly emphasize the virtues of religion and slamming solely those who would appropriate it to ridiculous extremes. It is very much about finding frustration with not the believers but a particular doctrine and its practitioners. I thought this was done well, and the tone of the writing really pushed things along briskly.
However, the diary is tedious, and it feels like going through the motions for so much of the time, since it is repetitive and you get the gist early on while having to sit through a story you already know. The one element I did appreciate about the diary is that this is very clearly a strong influence on RLS' Jekyll and Hyde, with dual personalities and blackouts and horrible deeds being ascribed to an unwitting individual.
The biggest flaw in the book may be that it is ahead of its time to a degree, and it feels like it isn't quite sure what it is trying to be. There are some masterful moments of mysteriousness that make it feel like a modern supernatural thriller, but they are moments that don't really feel fleshed out. Similarly, there is some heavy and weird description at the end that is moody and dark and strange about how they find the diary, but it doesn't really seem to serve a point, and a lot of the description is superfluous and not aimed at creating that offputting, chilling mood.
All in all, it seems to me like this is a book that is more important than it is good. Its greatest value is in being a precursor to what came later, and so for historical purposes, it's interesting. But as a book on its own merit...eh.
The darkly humorous way in which the author skewers those who would take a particular religious view to the extreme is pretty fantastic - it seems like he is skewering organized religion as a whole more in the first part, but through the second half he is very clear to repeatedly emphasize the virtues of religion and slamming solely those who would appropriate it to ridiculous extremes. It is very much about finding frustration with not the believers but a particular doctrine and its practitioners. I thought this was done well, and the tone of the writing really pushed things along briskly.
However, the diary is tedious, and it feels like going through the motions for so much of the time, since it is repetitive and you get the gist early on while having to sit through a story you already know. The one element I did appreciate about the diary is that this is very clearly a strong influence on RLS' Jekyll and Hyde, with dual personalities and blackouts and horrible deeds being ascribed to an unwitting individual.
The biggest flaw in the book may be that it is ahead of its time to a degree, and it feels like it isn't quite sure what it is trying to be. There are some masterful moments of mysteriousness that make it feel like a modern supernatural thriller, but they are moments that don't really feel fleshed out. Similarly, there is some heavy and weird description at the end that is moody and dark and strange about how they find the diary, but it doesn't really seem to serve a point, and a lot of the description is superfluous and not aimed at creating that offputting, chilling mood.
All in all, it seems to me like this is a book that is more important than it is good. Its greatest value is in being a precursor to what came later, and so for historical purposes, it's interesting. But as a book on its own merit...eh.
This is a really great, contemporary account of high Calvanism in Scotland. James Hogg is a wonderful writer, often overlooked because of Sir Walter Scott, who was writing at the same time. In this novel, Hogg deals with the questions of predestination and, if you've been saved, can you do pretty much whatever you want and not be punished for it. Fascinating. I really had trouble putting this one down and am pretty much convinced that everyone sould read it.
Never thought I'd rate a book so low but here we are. Utterly boring to me with a very confusing beginning. Strangest and most tiring narrative format. Giving it one star only for the idea behind it and that's just that.
challenging
dark
mysterious
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I loved this book. . . I am amazed by the imagination and craft of its author. It was also interesting to me because it takes place in 18th and 19th century Scotland. I read it for a Masterpieces: Religion & Spirituality class. I consider it a cautionary tale about the consequences of religious fanaticism.
I bought a copy of James Hogg's "The Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner" for a group read months ago. The cover of this edition freaked one of my kids out, so I put it "away" and promptly lost it... it turned up recently so I decided to give it a go.
The plot of the story is centered around Robert, who may or may not have been the son of Laird Colwan -- who grows up a Calvinist who believes he has been chosen to go to heaven no matter what he does. He comes under the influence of a man -- or the devil -- and commits a series of crimes (or the devil does.)
If it sounds convoluted, you're right it is. At times this was tough to get to, although I thought the overall concept of the story was interesting. The execution was what made it a tough read.
The plot of the story is centered around Robert, who may or may not have been the son of Laird Colwan -- who grows up a Calvinist who believes he has been chosen to go to heaven no matter what he does. He comes under the influence of a man -- or the devil -- and commits a series of crimes (or the devil does.)
If it sounds convoluted, you're right it is. At times this was tough to get to, although I thought the overall concept of the story was interesting. The execution was what made it a tough read.
dark
mysterious
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I read only the first half of this in college. Maybe I'll finish it someday. From what we talked about in class, it sounds good.
God's chosen few...
When George Colwan, Laird of Dalcastle, takes a much younger bride, the marriage is doomed from the beginning. The Laird is a fun-loving, hard-drinking, party animal – the bride, Rabina, holds extreme religious views of the Calvinist variety. She despises him; he is disappointed in her. Remarkably, despite this, they manage to produce two sons. The first, George, will grow up to be the apple of his father's eye. The younger, Robert, bears an uncanny resemblance to Rabina's close friend and spiritual adviser, Reverend Wringhim. The Laird rejects him and Robert is brought up as a ward of Reverend Wringhim, who indoctrinates him in the antinomian sect which believes that some people – the elect, or justified – are predestined to be saved by God, while everyone else will burn in hell. This is a satire on the idea of predestination, an examination of the origins of the sectarianism which still disfigures Scotland today, a tale of sibling rivalry, a story of madness, murder and the devil. And surprisingly, it's also full of humour...
It's a historical novel: first published in 1824, it's set more than a century earlier, between 1687 and 1715, roughly – or from the Glorious Revolution that saw the final downfall of the Stuarts, through the parliamentary Union between Scotland and England, and on towards the Jacobite rebellions. I'm reasonably familiar with this period of history on a fairly superficial level, but I was nevertheless glad to be reading a book with explanatory notes, and would suggest that's essential for anyone who doesn't know the background to the religious and political situation in Scotland at that time. Not that the book gets at all bogged down in any of these subjects, but the author assumes the reader's familiarity with them, so doesn't explain them as he goes along. My Oxford World's Classics edition provides concise background information – enough to allow the reader to understand the references without feeling that s/he's reading a history book – and a glossary and notes which explain any unfamiliar terms or allusions. The informative introduction, by Ian Duncan, Professor of English at the University of California, Berkeley, sets the book in its historical and literary context, and provides some biographical information on the author.
The story is told in two main parts, plus a short epilogue. The second part is the memoir and confession referred to in the title. The first is written by “the Editor” who, before presenting the reader with the memoir, tells what he has managed to learn of the actual events. This means we see the same story twice, allowing us to judge for ourself how much we can rely on the sinner's account. The third part wraps the story up in the author's present day and is unfortunately full of references to real people who were doubtless recognisable at the time but who have faded into obscurity since, so that some of the humour of this section is rather lost now.
The justified sinner of the title is the younger brother, Robert. Abandoned by the man the law says is his father, and subjected to the religious fanaticism of his guardian and his mother, it's perhaps not surprising that the boy grows up to be somewhat twisted and jealous of his elder brother, who seems to have a golden life. But Robert's problems really begin when Reverend Wringhim informs him that God has decided Robert should be one of the elect, predestined for salvation. The question the book satirises is – if one is predestined for salvation, does that mean one can sin free of consequences? In fact, is it possible for the elect to sin at all or, by virtue of their exalted status, do things that would be sinful if done by one of the damned cease to be sins when done by one of the elect? The book is not an attack on religious faith in general, but Hogg has a lot of fun with all the gradations of extremity within this particularly elitist little piece of dogma. On a wider level, he quietly mocks the way all religious sects tend to cherry-pick the bits of dogma that suit their world view best, while ignoring or “interpreting” the inconvenient bits of Scripture they don't like.
On the day that Robert is told he is one of the elect, he meets a mysterious young man under whose spell he gradually falls. This man convinces Robert that he cannot sin whatever he does, and gradually leads him down a path that will lead to murder – more than one! The structure makes this particularly intriguing. Robert's own memoir can be seen as the confession of a madman and his tempter could easily be seen as a delusion. But the Editor's account suggests that the tempter is a real being, seen and witnessed by many others in physical form. To modern eyes, the temptation to see him as a product of mental illness is almost irresistible, but I suspect readers at the time would have been in no doubt about his Satanic origins.
It all sounds terribly dark and serious, I know, but the satirical element keeps it entertaining. There's a lot of humour in it, particularly in the comparison of the Editor's portrayal of Robert as a snivelling coward and Robert's own vastly more heroic portrayal of himself. There's also some great horror as Robert gets sucked further and further into his tempter's schemes. And a whole lot of fairly wry insight into Scottish society. The vast majority is written in standard English, but there's some brilliantly executed dialect in the dialogue, where Hogg manages to differentiate between the various regions of Scotland, and rather shows that the “common” man has considerably more common sense than his social “betters.”
I read this one reluctantly because I felt I ought to given its status as a Scottish classic, and ended up much to my own surprise enjoying it thoroughly. Hogg takes all these theological and societal aspects, and turns them into an entertaining mix of humour and horror, with some excellently satirical characterisation. Like so many others, it has suffered from the cultural domination exerted by England over the last few centuries, but it's time these Scottish classics took their rightful place in the sun as equal partners in the great British literary tradition – highly recommended. 4½ stars for me, so rounded up.
NB This book was provided for review by the publisher, Oxford World's Classics.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
When George Colwan, Laird of Dalcastle, takes a much younger bride, the marriage is doomed from the beginning. The Laird is a fun-loving, hard-drinking, party animal – the bride, Rabina, holds extreme religious views of the Calvinist variety. She despises him; he is disappointed in her. Remarkably, despite this, they manage to produce two sons. The first, George, will grow up to be the apple of his father's eye. The younger, Robert, bears an uncanny resemblance to Rabina's close friend and spiritual adviser, Reverend Wringhim. The Laird rejects him and Robert is brought up as a ward of Reverend Wringhim, who indoctrinates him in the antinomian sect which believes that some people – the elect, or justified – are predestined to be saved by God, while everyone else will burn in hell. This is a satire on the idea of predestination, an examination of the origins of the sectarianism which still disfigures Scotland today, a tale of sibling rivalry, a story of madness, murder and the devil. And surprisingly, it's also full of humour...
It's a historical novel: first published in 1824, it's set more than a century earlier, between 1687 and 1715, roughly – or from the Glorious Revolution that saw the final downfall of the Stuarts, through the parliamentary Union between Scotland and England, and on towards the Jacobite rebellions. I'm reasonably familiar with this period of history on a fairly superficial level, but I was nevertheless glad to be reading a book with explanatory notes, and would suggest that's essential for anyone who doesn't know the background to the religious and political situation in Scotland at that time. Not that the book gets at all bogged down in any of these subjects, but the author assumes the reader's familiarity with them, so doesn't explain them as he goes along. My Oxford World's Classics edition provides concise background information – enough to allow the reader to understand the references without feeling that s/he's reading a history book – and a glossary and notes which explain any unfamiliar terms or allusions. The informative introduction, by Ian Duncan, Professor of English at the University of California, Berkeley, sets the book in its historical and literary context, and provides some biographical information on the author.
The story is told in two main parts, plus a short epilogue. The second part is the memoir and confession referred to in the title. The first is written by “the Editor” who, before presenting the reader with the memoir, tells what he has managed to learn of the actual events. This means we see the same story twice, allowing us to judge for ourself how much we can rely on the sinner's account. The third part wraps the story up in the author's present day and is unfortunately full of references to real people who were doubtless recognisable at the time but who have faded into obscurity since, so that some of the humour of this section is rather lost now.
The justified sinner of the title is the younger brother, Robert. Abandoned by the man the law says is his father, and subjected to the religious fanaticism of his guardian and his mother, it's perhaps not surprising that the boy grows up to be somewhat twisted and jealous of his elder brother, who seems to have a golden life. But Robert's problems really begin when Reverend Wringhim informs him that God has decided Robert should be one of the elect, predestined for salvation. The question the book satirises is – if one is predestined for salvation, does that mean one can sin free of consequences? In fact, is it possible for the elect to sin at all or, by virtue of their exalted status, do things that would be sinful if done by one of the damned cease to be sins when done by one of the elect? The book is not an attack on religious faith in general, but Hogg has a lot of fun with all the gradations of extremity within this particularly elitist little piece of dogma. On a wider level, he quietly mocks the way all religious sects tend to cherry-pick the bits of dogma that suit their world view best, while ignoring or “interpreting” the inconvenient bits of Scripture they don't like.
From that moment, I conceived it decreed, not that I should be a minister of the gospel, but a champion of it, to cut off the enemies of the Lord from the face of the earth; and I rejoiced in the commission, finding it more congenial to my nature to be cutting sinners off with the sword, than to be haranguing them from the pulpit, striving to produce an effect, which God, by his act of absolute predestination, had forever rendered impracticable. The more I pondered on these things, the more I saw of the folly and inconsistency of ministers, in spending their lives, striving and remonstrating with sinners, in order to do that which they had it not in their power to do. Seeing that God had from all eternity decided the fate of every individual that was to be born of woman, how vain was it in man to endeavour to save those whom their Maker had, by an unchangeable decree, doomed to destruction.
On the day that Robert is told he is one of the elect, he meets a mysterious young man under whose spell he gradually falls. This man convinces Robert that he cannot sin whatever he does, and gradually leads him down a path that will lead to murder – more than one! The structure makes this particularly intriguing. Robert's own memoir can be seen as the confession of a madman and his tempter could easily be seen as a delusion. But the Editor's account suggests that the tempter is a real being, seen and witnessed by many others in physical form. To modern eyes, the temptation to see him as a product of mental illness is almost irresistible, but I suspect readers at the time would have been in no doubt about his Satanic origins.
It all sounds terribly dark and serious, I know, but the satirical element keeps it entertaining. There's a lot of humour in it, particularly in the comparison of the Editor's portrayal of Robert as a snivelling coward and Robert's own vastly more heroic portrayal of himself. There's also some great horror as Robert gets sucked further and further into his tempter's schemes. And a whole lot of fairly wry insight into Scottish society. The vast majority is written in standard English, but there's some brilliantly executed dialect in the dialogue, where Hogg manages to differentiate between the various regions of Scotland, and rather shows that the “common” man has considerably more common sense than his social “betters.”
I read this one reluctantly because I felt I ought to given its status as a Scottish classic, and ended up much to my own surprise enjoying it thoroughly. Hogg takes all these theological and societal aspects, and turns them into an entertaining mix of humour and horror, with some excellently satirical characterisation. Like so many others, it has suffered from the cultural domination exerted by England over the last few centuries, but it's time these Scottish classics took their rightful place in the sun as equal partners in the great British literary tradition – highly recommended. 4½ stars for me, so rounded up.
NB This book was provided for review by the publisher, Oxford World's Classics.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
challenging
dark
mysterious
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes