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Greek Lessons by Han Kang
challenging
emotional
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
First published in 2011, Greek Lessons is about two unnamed characters, a man and a woman both struggling against the loss of language. The woman, a poet, is bereaved of her mother and has lost the custody of her child. After that she lost her ability to speak, but it isn’t just because of what happened: she finds the echo of words in her mind so overwhelming that she’s now unable to speak. She decides to take a course in ancient Greek not because it would break her silence, but to reclaim language of her own volition. The man is the teacher of the class. He’s processing his past life in Germany and is losing his sight because of a degenerative ocular condition. Gradually, loss forges an intimate connection between them.
Greek Lessons isn’t that much about the characters or ”the story” – it’s actually about the language itself, dissolution of it that reflects the lives of the characters. It suggests an interesting thought: what if language is capable of expressing feelings we might be too afraid to acknowledge? Language might feel like a creature, to have a life of its own: ”The most agonizing thing was how horrifyingly distinct the words sounded when she opened her mouth and pushed them out one by one. Even the most nondescript phrase outlined completeness and incompleteness, truth and lies, beauty and ugliness, with the cold clarity of ice.”
Kang’s writing feels more lyrical and muted (no pun intended) than in her previous novels. It’s softer, I think, I often felt like being in a hazy dream. I also adore how she’s able to use language to express an emotion, for example grief, without describing it. Not many can do that as good as she can. Greek Lessons isn’t the most easy read but absolutely worth the effort!
Greek Lessons isn’t that much about the characters or ”the story” – it’s actually about the language itself, dissolution of it that reflects the lives of the characters. It suggests an interesting thought: what if language is capable of expressing feelings we might be too afraid to acknowledge? Language might feel like a creature, to have a life of its own: ”The most agonizing thing was how horrifyingly distinct the words sounded when she opened her mouth and pushed them out one by one. Even the most nondescript phrase outlined completeness and incompleteness, truth and lies, beauty and ugliness, with the cold clarity of ice.”
Kang’s writing feels more lyrical and muted (no pun intended) than in her previous novels. It’s softer, I think, I often felt like being in a hazy dream. I also adore how she’s able to use language to express an emotion, for example grief, without describing it. Not many can do that as good as she can. Greek Lessons isn’t the most easy read but absolutely worth the effort!
Maa joka ei koskaan sula by Inkeri Markkula
adventurous
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.0
Pohjoisessa Kanadassa, lähellä Grönlantia sijaitsevalla Baffininsaarella Unni tutkii ilmastonmuutoksen vaikutuksia Pennyjäätikön sulamiseen. Siellä hän tapaa Tanskassa asuvan Jonin, mutta heidän tiensä eroavat pian eikä yhteystietoja vaihdeta. Myöhemmin Unni palaa saarelle etsimään Jonia.
Maa joka ei koskaan sula on tarina juurettomuudesta, ikävästä, sopeutumattomuudesta ja alkuperäiskansoja kohtaan harjoitetusta systemaattisesta syrjinnästä ja kulttuurisesta kansanmurhasta. Unni on jo lapsena repäisty irti juuriltaan Saamenmaalta Helsinkiin, ja oma kasvuympäristö on saanut hänet kiinnostumaan ilmastonmuutoksen tutkimisesta. Inuiittitaustainen Jon on vauvana adoptoitu valkoiseen perheeseen. 1960- ja 1980-lukujen välillä arviolta 20 000 Kanadan alkuperäiskansojen lasta erotettiin vanhemmistaan ja annettiin adoptoitaviksi keskiluokkaisiin valkoisiin perheisiin. Kyse oli systemaattisesta assimilaatiopolitiikasta ja kansanmurhasta. Sulauttamista toteutettiin myös Suomen saamelaislapsiin muun muassa asuntolakouluissa, joissa lapset eivät saaneet puhua saamea tai harjoittaa kulttuuriaan. Myös kirjan Jonin adoptioprosessista paljastuu jotain hämärää.
Kirjan teemat ovat todella mielenkiintoiset ja Baffininsaari jäätiköineen ympäristönä upea. Mutta voi kun tarina olisi keskittynyt tiukasti vain Unniin ja Joniin, heidän nykyhetkeensä! Puolet kirjasta on erilaisia takaumia Unnin ja Jonin lapsuuteen niin heidän itsensä kuin Jonin äidin näkökulmasta ja vielä Jonin biologisten vanhempien tarinaan. Sanon suoraan: ei kiinnostanut yhtään. En jaksanut ollenkaan aikatasojen ja näkökulmien vaihtelua, joka johti siihen, että kaikki menneisyydessä tapahtunut selostettiin juurta jaksain auki, tarinassa ei ollut yhtään aukkoisuutta. Lopun hämmentävän hämmästyttävä yhteensattuma oli kuin huonosta elokuvasta.
Maa joka ei koskaan sula on tarina juurettomuudesta, ikävästä, sopeutumattomuudesta ja alkuperäiskansoja kohtaan harjoitetusta systemaattisesta syrjinnästä ja kulttuurisesta kansanmurhasta. Unni on jo lapsena repäisty irti juuriltaan Saamenmaalta Helsinkiin, ja oma kasvuympäristö on saanut hänet kiinnostumaan ilmastonmuutoksen tutkimisesta. Inuiittitaustainen Jon on vauvana adoptoitu valkoiseen perheeseen. 1960- ja 1980-lukujen välillä arviolta 20 000 Kanadan alkuperäiskansojen lasta erotettiin vanhemmistaan ja annettiin adoptoitaviksi keskiluokkaisiin valkoisiin perheisiin. Kyse oli systemaattisesta assimilaatiopolitiikasta ja kansanmurhasta. Sulauttamista toteutettiin myös Suomen saamelaislapsiin muun muassa asuntolakouluissa, joissa lapset eivät saaneet puhua saamea tai harjoittaa kulttuuriaan. Myös kirjan Jonin adoptioprosessista paljastuu jotain hämärää.
Kirjan teemat ovat todella mielenkiintoiset ja Baffininsaari jäätiköineen ympäristönä upea. Mutta voi kun tarina olisi keskittynyt tiukasti vain Unniin ja Joniin, heidän nykyhetkeensä! Puolet kirjasta on erilaisia takaumia Unnin ja Jonin lapsuuteen niin heidän itsensä kuin Jonin äidin näkökulmasta ja vielä Jonin biologisten vanhempien tarinaan. Sanon suoraan: ei kiinnostanut yhtään. En jaksanut ollenkaan aikatasojen ja näkökulmien vaihtelua, joka johti siihen, että kaikki menneisyydessä tapahtunut selostettiin juurta jaksain auki, tarinassa ei ollut yhtään aukkoisuutta. Lopun hämmentävän hämmästyttävä yhteensattuma oli kuin huonosta elokuvasta.
Coma by Zara Slattery
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
3.0
In May 2013 Zara Slattery’s persistent sore throat turned into a deadly bacterial infection, Necrotising Fasciitis, the “flesh-eating disease”. She goes under a drastic surgery (they have to amputate her leg to stop the infection from spreading), intensive care and a 15-day drug-induced coma. While in a coma, she experiences a bizarre journey of nightmarish scenes and figures.
The story is split between Slattery’s visions while in a coma and her husband’s diary, which shows how he and their family coped during the ordeal. It’s a harrowing thing to go through, the continuous fear of losing your loved one, and at the same time taking care of your children.
The graphic novel is a great form to tell a story like this. It wouldn’t be that effective to just write about what Slattery experienced during the coma. However, I wasn’t a big fan of the art style of the book. It was a little messy and overall just not to my taste.
The story is split between Slattery’s visions while in a coma and her husband’s diary, which shows how he and their family coped during the ordeal. It’s a harrowing thing to go through, the continuous fear of losing your loved one, and at the same time taking care of your children.
The graphic novel is a great form to tell a story like this. It wouldn’t be that effective to just write about what Slattery experienced during the coma. However, I wasn’t a big fan of the art style of the book. It was a little messy and overall just not to my taste.
The Story of Art without Men by Katy Hessel
informative
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
4.0
How many women artists can you name? Not many, I bet, not as many as men artists anyway. Obviously women have always made art but it hasn’t been seen as important as men’s. The exclusion of women (and non-binary) artists from the history of art is still effective today as there is an overwhelming under-representation of women artists in museums, galleries, literature etc. For example as in 2019, in the collections of eighteen major US art museums, 87 per cent of artworks were by men, and 85 per cent by white artists. Also, women artists make up just 1 per cent of London’s National Gallery collection.
But progress is happening, bit by bit, thanks to a collective effort by actively engaged artists, art historians, scholars and curators around the world. And thanks to people like Hessel for their books like this.
The Story of Art Without Men is a great introduction to art by women from the 1500s to present day. There isn’t space for much analysis of each artist’s work, but that is quite understandable as the book is meant to cover a very broad topic and introduce as many artists as necessary to represent different times and movements. I think it got a little rushed towards the end though, it felt too catalogue-ish.
Nevertheless, I really enjoyed this book. I discovered so many interesting women artists and learned new things. It’s stunningly illustrated with high quality pictures of the works of the artists.
I also recommend to check out Hessel’s @thegreatwomenartists instagram account and The Great Women Artists podcast!
But progress is happening, bit by bit, thanks to a collective effort by actively engaged artists, art historians, scholars and curators around the world. And thanks to people like Hessel for their books like this.
The Story of Art Without Men is a great introduction to art by women from the 1500s to present day. There isn’t space for much analysis of each artist’s work, but that is quite understandable as the book is meant to cover a very broad topic and introduce as many artists as necessary to represent different times and movements. I think it got a little rushed towards the end though, it felt too catalogue-ish.
Nevertheless, I really enjoyed this book. I discovered so many interesting women artists and learned new things. It’s stunningly illustrated with high quality pictures of the works of the artists.
I also recommend to check out Hessel’s @thegreatwomenartists instagram account and The Great Women Artists podcast!
Dark Neighbourhood by Vanessa Onwuemezi
challenging
dark
mysterious
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.5
”I dreamed of blood from then on. Oceans of blood, rains of blood. It wasn’t fearful dreaming but was painful and true, like the fact of death, living under the shadow of it, and now I had two shadows curled up on me like a shell hard and no give.”
Previously known for her poetry, Dark Neighbourhood (another beautiful Fitzcarraldo book) is Onwuemezi’s first short story collection. The stories are somewhat challenging to read, being quite experimental and surreal. It also takes a moment to get into their poetic rhythm – an element which comes first when she is writing, as Onwuemezi has said. To achieve the particular rhythm, she used extra gaps between the words signifying a longer pause than a normal comma. When you get used to the rhythm of her text, it feels brilliant.
The stories are dark and obscure. They have a nightmarish feeling to them, like when you have just woke up and can’t shake off the ominous feeling from the strange dream you had. The characters roam the depths of alienation and loss, they are lonely and desperate. Many of them live on the edge of society. Many of them grieve.
I loved especially the stories that left much unsaid and that left room for interpretation. I especially adored the last two stories. ‘Green Afternoon’ is about a man who finds a young man stabbed to death in his garden, and then attempts to find the killer to ask him “the right question”. The other one, ‘At the Heart of Things’ is about a woman who has hit her head and is having dreams or hallucinations of being underwater. In the depths and darkness of the waters she meets her various family members. A quote from the end of this story pretty much sums up the whole collection: “We are all alike in this strangeness.”
If you like to have a little challenge and love experimental writing, try these stories!
Previously known for her poetry, Dark Neighbourhood (another beautiful Fitzcarraldo book) is Onwuemezi’s first short story collection. The stories are somewhat challenging to read, being quite experimental and surreal. It also takes a moment to get into their poetic rhythm – an element which comes first when she is writing, as Onwuemezi has said. To achieve the particular rhythm, she used extra gaps between the words signifying a longer pause than a normal comma. When you get used to the rhythm of her text, it feels brilliant.
The stories are dark and obscure. They have a nightmarish feeling to them, like when you have just woke up and can’t shake off the ominous feeling from the strange dream you had. The characters roam the depths of alienation and loss, they are lonely and desperate. Many of them live on the edge of society. Many of them grieve.
I loved especially the stories that left much unsaid and that left room for interpretation. I especially adored the last two stories. ‘Green Afternoon’ is about a man who finds a young man stabbed to death in his garden, and then attempts to find the killer to ask him “the right question”. The other one, ‘At the Heart of Things’ is about a woman who has hit her head and is having dreams or hallucinations of being underwater. In the depths and darkness of the waters she meets her various family members. A quote from the end of this story pretty much sums up the whole collection: “We are all alike in this strangeness.”
If you like to have a little challenge and love experimental writing, try these stories!
Eve's Hollywood by Eve Babitz
emotional
funny
informative
reflective
medium-paced
4.0
”It takes a certain kind of innocence to like L.A., anyway. It requires a certain plain happiness inside to be happy in L.A., to choose it and be happy here.”
Eve’s Hollywood is like an album of snapshots of Southern California, particularly L.A. The book consists of forty-six different texts that range in theme from Babitz’s childhood and high school years to her beginnings as a writer, the many people she knew and her (romantic) relationships. There are also chapters about how she wants to kill all Xerox machines and where you can get the best taquitos in L.A. which are better than heroin (and Janis Joplin should have gone to eat them rather than shoot up drugs alone in a motel room and die) – Babitz even drew a map of how to get there.
”In the Depression, when most of them came here, people with brains went to New York and people with faces came West.”
Babitz was a real ✨it girl✨ of her time. From Eve’s Hollywood you get the impression that she literally knew everyone. And maybe she did, everyone remarkable. The book indulges in shameless namedropping throughout. Babitz is especially proud to have introduced Frank Zappa and Salvador Dalí to each other while staying a year in New York. She also tells about two different situations when she heard that her friend from school and other friend had become members of the Charles Manson family. Very interesting for sure, but this continuous namedropping may get on your nerves.
Still, I love Eve Babitz despite her occasionally being a little annoying. While reading her books I feel transported back to the era portrayed in them: the 1960s and 1970s Southern California. She always manages to amaze me.
What surprised me the most while reading Eve’s Hollywood was that she mentions one of her favourite authors being Joyce Carol Oates. Eve’s Hollywood is published in 1974. What the hell, JCO must be eternal if she was a thing already back then! Yes, she has published her first books in 1960s, and that’s just crazy.
”If you live in L.A., to reckon time is a trick since there are no winters. There are just earthquakes, parties and certain people. And songs.”
Eve’s Hollywood is like an album of snapshots of Southern California, particularly L.A. The book consists of forty-six different texts that range in theme from Babitz’s childhood and high school years to her beginnings as a writer, the many people she knew and her (romantic) relationships. There are also chapters about how she wants to kill all Xerox machines and where you can get the best taquitos in L.A. which are better than heroin (and Janis Joplin should have gone to eat them rather than shoot up drugs alone in a motel room and die) – Babitz even drew a map of how to get there.
”In the Depression, when most of them came here, people with brains went to New York and people with faces came West.”
Babitz was a real ✨it girl✨ of her time. From Eve’s Hollywood you get the impression that she literally knew everyone. And maybe she did, everyone remarkable. The book indulges in shameless namedropping throughout. Babitz is especially proud to have introduced Frank Zappa and Salvador Dalí to each other while staying a year in New York. She also tells about two different situations when she heard that her friend from school and other friend had become members of the Charles Manson family. Very interesting for sure, but this continuous namedropping may get on your nerves.
Still, I love Eve Babitz despite her occasionally being a little annoying. While reading her books I feel transported back to the era portrayed in them: the 1960s and 1970s Southern California. She always manages to amaze me.
What surprised me the most while reading Eve’s Hollywood was that she mentions one of her favourite authors being Joyce Carol Oates. Eve’s Hollywood is published in 1974. What the hell, JCO must be eternal if she was a thing already back then! Yes, she has published her first books in 1960s, and that’s just crazy.
”If you live in L.A., to reckon time is a trick since there are no winters. There are just earthquakes, parties and certain people. And songs.”
Suurteoksia II by Saara Turunen, Petra Maisonen
informative
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
4.0
Olin iloinen saadessani käsiini uuden Saara Turusen ja Petra Maisosen toimittaman Suurteoksia II -kirjan, nimittäin rakastin kaksi vuotta sitten ilmestynyttä ensimmäistä osaa. Mukana on jälleen monipuolinen joukko naiskirjailijoita, jotka kirjoittavat elämänsä kirjoista, naiskirjailijoiden teoksia nekin.
On aina yhtä kiehtovaa kuulla, mikä teos on tehnyt ihmiseen vaikutuksen ja miksi. Kirjan esseissä kysymykseen vastataan eri tavoin, toiset perusteellisemmin kuin toiset, mutta teksteistä aistii jokaisen teoksen merkittävyyden kirjoittajalle, olipa merkityssuhde sitten henkilökohtainen, ammatillinen tai molempia. Arvostin kuitenkin enemmän niitä tekstejä, joissa oikeasti perustellaan, miksi teos on henkilölle tärkeä. Muutamat teksteistä jäävät pitkälti vain teoksen analysoinnin tasolle
E. L. Karhun essee Leonora Carringtonin teoksesta Kuulotorvi innosti minua eniten. Kirjoittajana Karhu erottuu muista tietynlaisella nasevuudellaan ja huumorintajullaan. Tekstistä nousee selkeästi esiin, miksi teos on Karhulle merkittävä. Hän pohtii sitä monipuolisesti ja vertaa sen päähenkilöä oman esikoisromaaninsa Veljelleni päähenkilöön. Veljelleni on yksi parhaita tänä vuonna lukemiani kirjoja. Carringtonin teokset ovat kiinnostaneet minua pitkään, ja Karhun esseen myötä täytyy varmaan aloittaa Kuulotorvesta (jota ei valitettavasti ole suomennettu, kuten ei muutakaan Carringtonin kirjallista tuotantoaan).
Myös Susanna Hastin teksti Hélène Cixousin teoksesta Sisään kirjoittamiseen ja kokoelman avaava Tuuve Aron essee Jean Rhysin teoksesta Herra McKenzien jälkeen tekivät vaikutuksen. Jälkimmäinen itse asiassa niin paljon, että aloitinpa heti sen luettuani Jean Rhysin esikoisromaanin Quartet, joka edeltää Herra McKenzietä.
Toivottavasti saamme myöhemmin Suurteoksia III:n, sillä kuten alussa sanoin, on ihanaa lukea taidokkaita esseitä merkittävistä kirjoista.
On aina yhtä kiehtovaa kuulla, mikä teos on tehnyt ihmiseen vaikutuksen ja miksi. Kirjan esseissä kysymykseen vastataan eri tavoin, toiset perusteellisemmin kuin toiset, mutta teksteistä aistii jokaisen teoksen merkittävyyden kirjoittajalle, olipa merkityssuhde sitten henkilökohtainen, ammatillinen tai molempia. Arvostin kuitenkin enemmän niitä tekstejä, joissa oikeasti perustellaan, miksi teos on henkilölle tärkeä. Muutamat teksteistä jäävät pitkälti vain teoksen analysoinnin tasolle
E. L. Karhun essee Leonora Carringtonin teoksesta Kuulotorvi innosti minua eniten. Kirjoittajana Karhu erottuu muista tietynlaisella nasevuudellaan ja huumorintajullaan. Tekstistä nousee selkeästi esiin, miksi teos on Karhulle merkittävä. Hän pohtii sitä monipuolisesti ja vertaa sen päähenkilöä oman esikoisromaaninsa Veljelleni päähenkilöön. Veljelleni on yksi parhaita tänä vuonna lukemiani kirjoja. Carringtonin teokset ovat kiinnostaneet minua pitkään, ja Karhun esseen myötä täytyy varmaan aloittaa Kuulotorvesta (jota ei valitettavasti ole suomennettu, kuten ei muutakaan Carringtonin kirjallista tuotantoaan).
Myös Susanna Hastin teksti Hélène Cixousin teoksesta Sisään kirjoittamiseen ja kokoelman avaava Tuuve Aron essee Jean Rhysin teoksesta Herra McKenzien jälkeen tekivät vaikutuksen. Jälkimmäinen itse asiassa niin paljon, että aloitinpa heti sen luettuani Jean Rhysin esikoisromaanin Quartet, joka edeltää Herra McKenzietä.
Toivottavasti saamme myöhemmin Suurteoksia III:n, sillä kuten alussa sanoin, on ihanaa lukea taidokkaita esseitä merkittävistä kirjoista.
August Blue by Deborah Levy
challenging
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
I have a Deborah Levy fever – it hasn’t been long since I read Hot Milk. Her newest novel August Blue is in many ways similar to Hot Milk, but still different. They both have the same dreamlike quality.
A concert pianist Elsa M. Anderson is a former child prodigy, now in her thirties and at the height of her career. At the concert in Vienna, she suddenly diverts from the Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto No. 2 and walks off the stage. In other words, she has just ruined her career. Now Elsa is travelling in Europe and giving piano lessons to rich kids. During her stay in Greece she sees a young woman, almost like her double, purchasing a pair of mechanical horses. She becomes obsessed with the woman who she perceives as herself and her mother – a mother she knows nothing about – and starts to encounter her in London and Paris as well.
August Blue is a novel full of metaphors and symbols, just like Hot Milk. For example the colour blue appears repeatedly throughout the novel: Elsa dyes her hair blue just before her concert in Vienna, there are several mentions of different sea creatures, and blue is a colour of sadness or depression, but on the other hand, freedom as well. Elsa is struggling to break free from a life in which she is raised to be a world-famous pianist, and she feels depressed because she doesn’t know who she really is and where she comes from.
In the literature and films a doppelgänger has often been used as a way of understanding a lost memory and a divided self. It usually represents the evil side of the individual psyche. In August Blue Elsa’s doppelgänger isn’t necessary her evil twin, but it clearly represents her severed selves. This was so fascinating to find out, and I just love how layered the novel is.
I would love to discuss the novel and puzzle over it more if I had more characters left! 💙
”As her fingers searched for a strand of hair tucked under her hat, she looked in my direction – not directly at me, but I sensed she knew I was there. It was eleven in the morning, but the mood she transmitted to me at that moment was dark and soft, like midnight.”
A concert pianist Elsa M. Anderson is a former child prodigy, now in her thirties and at the height of her career. At the concert in Vienna, she suddenly diverts from the Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto No. 2 and walks off the stage. In other words, she has just ruined her career. Now Elsa is travelling in Europe and giving piano lessons to rich kids. During her stay in Greece she sees a young woman, almost like her double, purchasing a pair of mechanical horses. She becomes obsessed with the woman who she perceives as herself and her mother – a mother she knows nothing about – and starts to encounter her in London and Paris as well.
August Blue is a novel full of metaphors and symbols, just like Hot Milk. For example the colour blue appears repeatedly throughout the novel: Elsa dyes her hair blue just before her concert in Vienna, there are several mentions of different sea creatures, and blue is a colour of sadness or depression, but on the other hand, freedom as well. Elsa is struggling to break free from a life in which she is raised to be a world-famous pianist, and she feels depressed because she doesn’t know who she really is and where she comes from.
In the literature and films a doppelgänger has often been used as a way of understanding a lost memory and a divided self. It usually represents the evil side of the individual psyche. In August Blue Elsa’s doppelgänger isn’t necessary her evil twin, but it clearly represents her severed selves. This was so fascinating to find out, and I just love how layered the novel is.
I would love to discuss the novel and puzzle over it more if I had more characters left! 💙
”As her fingers searched for a strand of hair tucked under her hat, she looked in my direction – not directly at me, but I sensed she knew I was there. It was eleven in the morning, but the mood she transmitted to me at that moment was dark and soft, like midnight.”
Quartet by Jean Rhys
dark
emotional
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
This novel pulled at my heartstrings. It’s about a woman, Marya, who is married to a scoundrel named Stephan, but she doesn’t know or even want to know about his businesses. When Stephan is suddenly imprisoned, Marya is left penniless and alone in Paris. A sophisticated English couple, the Heidlers, offer to take her in, and Mr Heidler persists on starting a sexual, controlling relationship with Marya. His wife knows about the relationship, but thinks that to keep his husband, it’s better to allow him to do whatever he wants.
Rhys has said that nearly everything she wrote was, to an extent, autobiographical. This seems quite daring when you’ve read Quartet – it doesn’t paint a great picture of any of the characters.
Quartet is an ugly story. The most depressing thing is Mr Heidler’s sexual control over Marya and how he manipulates her to believe she loves him. But as a woman in the early 20th century, the choices in that kind of situation were few. However, Marya also has her own plans to keep up appearances when reality is slipping away from her.
Despite its ugliness, I love how the novel uses its locality (and other recurring things) to express emotion. Arrondissements of Paris (Montparnasse, Pigalle, Montmartre), numerous cafès and hotels and even the streets reflect the mood of the novel and the Jazz age Paris. When you start to notice the connections, it feels almost unsettling. One of those moments in the novel happens when Marya and an American socialite are watching a fox in a zoo in Nice:
“There was a young fox in a cage at the end of the zoo – a cage perhaps three yards long. Up and down it ran, up and down, and Marya imagined that each time it turned it did so with a certain hopefulness, as if it thought that escape was possible. Then, of course, there were the bars. It would strike its nose, turn and run again. Up and down, up and down, ceaselessly. A horrible sight really.
‘Sweet thing,’ said Miss Nicholson.”
That pretty much sums up the whole novel.
Rhys has said that nearly everything she wrote was, to an extent, autobiographical. This seems quite daring when you’ve read Quartet – it doesn’t paint a great picture of any of the characters.
Quartet is an ugly story. The most depressing thing is Mr Heidler’s sexual control over Marya and how he manipulates her to believe she loves him. But as a woman in the early 20th century, the choices in that kind of situation were few. However, Marya also has her own plans to keep up appearances when reality is slipping away from her.
Despite its ugliness, I love how the novel uses its locality (and other recurring things) to express emotion. Arrondissements of Paris (Montparnasse, Pigalle, Montmartre), numerous cafès and hotels and even the streets reflect the mood of the novel and the Jazz age Paris. When you start to notice the connections, it feels almost unsettling. One of those moments in the novel happens when Marya and an American socialite are watching a fox in a zoo in Nice:
“There was a young fox in a cage at the end of the zoo – a cage perhaps three yards long. Up and down it ran, up and down, and Marya imagined that each time it turned it did so with a certain hopefulness, as if it thought that escape was possible. Then, of course, there were the bars. It would strike its nose, turn and run again. Up and down, up and down, ceaselessly. A horrible sight really.
‘Sweet thing,’ said Miss Nicholson.”
That pretty much sums up the whole novel.