May, 2021 Readings: "The month of May was come, when every lusty heart beginneth to blossom, and to bring forth fruit."

This month's quote is from Thomas Malory.

Just wrapped up a dark fantasy, THE LIBRARY AT MOUNT CHAR, which wasn't bad, quite entertaining in places.

I'm also finishing off LOVE AND CAPITAL, a biography by Mary Gabriel on the relationship between Karl and Jenny Marx. This is one of the best non-fic books I've read in awhile. Detailed but also highly readable; complex without being complicated or hard to follow. Highly recommended.

Every time I feel apocalyptic I start a big fat book of history to put everything in perspective, or maybe to have something to talk about around the bonfires. Right now it's A History of Europe by J. M. Roberts.

Somber factoid: after defeating the Bulgarian army in 1014 AD, Byzantine Emperor Basil II blinded 15,000 prisoners of war, except 1 in 100 men whom he left with one eye to lead their comrades home.

Finally wrapped up LOVE AND CAPITAL, the bio of Karl Marx and his wife Jenny.

Magisterial.

GREAT biography.

FORTYSOMETHING by Nigel Williams.

Not laugh-out-loud funny (as some of the blurbs promised), but an amusing look at a BBC voice actor who's about to turn 50 and suffering from mid-life crisis. The author worked for the BBC so his insights into how that institution operates and its mindset were of some interest.

A nice break after 700 pages on Karl and Jenny Marx.

What with the house renos and a longish stay by family, basically the only thing I've read for the past three weeks is the back of a cereal box.

Shame on me.

On the other hand, the new flooring and my re-imagined writing space makes it all worthwhile. And the grandkids were loads of fun.

I've been reading a lot this past month. Unfortunately, the 'snobbiest' book isn't very good. Why would anyone want to read Henry James when Edith Wharton wrote circles around him on the very same topics, with the very same themes, and the very same technique of leaving the best writing out?

Portrait of a Lady is a slog of a novel. None of the characters interest me, and as they ooze vapidly over the pages, the last thing I want to do is participate in their inner lives. Blechk!

I've NEVER been a Henry James fan--even a relatively short book like TURN OF THE SCREW seems interminable.

I'll take his brother, any day.

I have been struggling with The Ambassadors for some time, wondering why James found it necessary to use such convoluted vocabulary. I find myself reading the same sentence three times before I can fully comprehend it and I regard myself as a seasoned reader capable of coping with complex material.
To be fair to him his earlier books flow more easily and my mistake was to return to James after many years by picking one from his 'late' period.

I agree that EdithWhartonwrites extremely well in a similar vein and I particularly appreciatedThe House of Mirth when I read it a few years ago.