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madzie's review against another edition
I really wanted to like this book, considering my love of literature and poetry, but somehow Byatt makes these beloved topics dull. I was going to plow through when I realized there wasn't anything I was actually enjoying about this book, so I best let it go. The characters are pompous and annoying, and while that may be the point, they make me not want to read them more than another writer or novel may make me want to study their behaviors. The plot drags on, and though I've heard it gets better with a twist at the end, my personal opinion is if a book does not get good until the end, the book is not that good. It needs to read well throughout. It seems as though Byatt is very heavily trying to lead you the way she wants you to go and then throwing on useless information (I don't need to know backstories about random characters) to make it seem like she's not.
Maud and Rolland's romance, enemy-to-lovers, and will-they-won't-they set up is gak—boring and overdone. I feel like the tone of the novel directly opposes the romantic tropes Byatt is attempting to lean into, not to mention the entire lack of development and enjoyment in the relationship makes me not care about what they do with their lives or within the story. Byatt sets up some great themes that would be very interesting to explore, but I can't get passed the typical lack of perspective in feminist writing; it feels very pin-point focused on those with privilege. Although this could be overlooked with the publication year, I simply cannot read another piece of "feminist" literature that only considers some of the population and suggests anyone or anything outside is less desirable or even horrifying. If you only see your view as correct, how can you accurately comment on a fundamental part of society? How can you dismantle something without seeing the entire reasoning and harm of its construction? It seems counterintuitive to me. I'd rather spend my time with books that better explore the human experience to make more useful commentary on society, gender, and human sexuality. In the end, I rarely like romance anyway, so perhaps the writing was on the wall from the beginning. Other themes definitely seem more thought-out, but I can't get through to enjoy them.
Maud and Rolland's romance, enemy-to-lovers, and will-they-won't-they set up is gak—boring and overdone. I feel like the tone of the novel directly opposes the romantic tropes Byatt is attempting to lean into, not to mention the entire lack of development and enjoyment in the relationship makes me not care about what they do with their lives or within the story. Byatt sets up some great themes that would be very interesting to explore, but I can't get passed the typical lack of perspective in feminist writing; it feels very pin-point focused on those with privilege. Although this could be overlooked with the publication year, I simply cannot read another piece of "feminist" literature that only considers some of the population and suggests anyone or anything outside is less desirable or even horrifying. If you only see your view as correct, how can you accurately comment on a fundamental part of society? How can you dismantle something without seeing the entire reasoning and harm of its construction? It seems counterintuitive to me. I'd rather spend my time with books that better explore the human experience to make more useful commentary on society, gender, and human sexuality. In the end, I rarely like romance anyway, so perhaps the writing was on the wall from the beginning. Other themes definitely seem more thought-out, but I can't get through to enjoy them.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Acephobia/Arophobia and Homophobia
storyorc's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
emotional
funny
hopeful
informative
lighthearted
mysterious
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
A wry, poignant experience lies just beneath the surface of dry academia in these pages. Reading it feels like a cynical old professor remembering why they fell in love with literature. Possession invites you to fall in love with many things besides literature too - its timid protagonist, Victorian poetry, mythology, the internal worlds of quiet wives, Brittany, loud American scholars and their English disapprovers, the archeological study of those who devote their lives to a single historical figure, and the ridiculousness of it. Works are often called 'love letters' to their subject material but Byatt was mad enough to make Possession not only literally dozens of love letters, but sprinkle in multi-page love poems as well.
Possession is not, however, romanticised. Byatt is not wanting for a romantic turn of phrase of course, but Roland often has to think about ticket prices and rent in the middle of his international treasure-hunt. The threat of being swept up into false levels of passion is ever-present in both timelines yet the characters are always damningly aware of it. Both Christabel in the 1800s and Maud in the novel's present grapple with whether one can love without losing oneself. This titular question of possession is raised in myriad ways: though bonds of marriage and parenthood, through secrets and their uncovering, through the scholars who hoard every letter a dead poet penned and their widows who burn them. Byatt even flirts with literal possession thanks to the Victorian obsession with séances. At each junction, we are made to reckon with how much and how willingly we give ourselves away. By juxtaposing the parallels between our casts in each timeline, Byatt explores both the consequences of giving oneself away and of holding back.
On a less grandiose but no less important level, Byatt is a master of endearing us to unlikeable characters. Chapters devoted to secondary characters feel tangential, yet shine a light on inner convictions which force an appreciation for even the most meek or abrasive (looking at you, Cropper). This generous and empathetic method of revealing character resonates beautifully with the way our heroes delve through layer after layer of the scandalous secret lives of Victorian poets.
Thankfully, Byatt also knows when not to indulge in a tangent. Far from the dusty library of the first pages, this treasure-hunt-style plot crescendos into a more dramatic action scene than I would have believed. And yet, in its final moments of revelation, you feel you could hear a pin drop.
At the risk of sounding like a study guide, I encourage readers to keep an eye on imagery surrounding whiteness (the literal colour, not the race). Whenever someone started talking about how white Christabel or Maud looked, be it about purity, beauty, or frigidity, I noticed it would illuminate something about where either the speaker or object was sitting on the possession question. Also apples, though I'd have to read again to say why beyond the superficial temptation connotation - they cropped up a lot.
Read with @RoisinsReading's (Youtube) Big Book Club discord.
Possession is not, however, romanticised. Byatt is not wanting for a romantic turn of phrase of course, but Roland often has to think about ticket prices and rent in the middle of his international treasure-hunt. The threat of being swept up into false levels of passion is ever-present in both timelines yet the characters are always damningly aware of it. Both Christabel in the 1800s and Maud in the novel's present grapple with whether one can love without losing oneself. This titular question of possession is raised in myriad ways: though bonds of marriage and parenthood, through secrets and their uncovering, through the scholars who hoard every letter a dead poet penned and their widows who burn them. Byatt even flirts with literal possession thanks to the Victorian obsession with séances. At each junction, we are made to reckon with how much and how willingly we give ourselves away. By juxtaposing the parallels between our casts in each timeline, Byatt explores both the consequences of giving oneself away and of holding back.
On a less grandiose but no less important level, Byatt is a master of endearing us to unlikeable characters. Chapters devoted to secondary characters feel tangential, yet shine a light on inner convictions which force an appreciation for even the most meek or abrasive (looking at you, Cropper). This generous and empathetic method of revealing character resonates beautifully with the way our heroes delve through layer after layer of the scandalous secret lives of Victorian poets.
Thankfully, Byatt also knows when not to indulge in a tangent. Far from the dusty library of the first pages, this treasure-hunt-style plot crescendos into a more dramatic action scene than I would have believed. And yet, in its final moments of revelation, you feel you could hear a pin drop.
At the risk of sounding like a study guide, I encourage readers to keep an eye on imagery surrounding whiteness (the literal colour, not the race). Whenever someone started talking about how white Christabel or Maud looked, be it about purity, beauty, or frigidity, I noticed it would illuminate something about where either the speaker or object was sitting on the possession question. Also apples, though I'd have to read again to say why beyond the superficial temptation connotation - they cropped up a lot.
Read with @RoisinsReading's (Youtube) Big Book Club discord.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Pregnancy, Suicide, and Infidelity
Minor: Homophobia, Racism, and Sexual harassment
Re: the homophobia, this book is way gayer than you'd expect but the character most likely to have been a lesbian meets a tragic ending. Re: racism: the only non-white character happens to be the most sexually aggressive. She has a fun personality too, and this trait is not a problem on its own, but it does adhere to the stereotype.
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