"A Room of One's Own" by Virginia Woolf

I've read a good bit of Woolf's fiction and always end up pawing the book with longing, wishing I could resurrect the woman and have tea with her, and then remembering that she was sorta bat-shit crazy so maybe no tea? Just sitting. At any rate, I heart the Woolf and decided to read some of her non-fiction to see if it's as difficult as her other books.

Uh...yes. Yes, it is. There are still the two-page-long sentences, and the meandering into flowery observations about seemingly unrelated topics that always end up actually being related but by the time you realize that you maybe forgot the subject of the sentence oh look a shiny thing! So if you've ever considered turning to this essay as an easing-into-Woolf tool, just don't. Pick up Mrs. Dalloway and just dive in. It requires just as much concentration.

Anywoot, A Room of One's Own is a series of lectures turned into essays that Woolf gave on the subject of women and fiction. She posits that women need a room of their own with a lock a key, along with a steady and independent income, in order to write good fiction. Oddly enough, she supports her arguments by talking a good bit about the Bronte sisters and Jane Austen- none of whom had privacy or independent means. She goes over a very brief history of women, citing intellectual oppression, children, and too much time in the kitchen as the reason there were not a lot of women writers in the past. I guess she thinks modern women have more freedom to write because they have private sitting areas and the ability to earn money.

Ok...? I know this is supposed to be a foundational work of feminism, but I just...meh. Considering that some of the greatest female authors of all time- who Woolf talks about through the whole piece- had neither money nor privacy...this makes me think bullocks to this.

What I think is really happening here is that women need privacy and money to write Woolf's kind of fiction. The navel-gazing, deeply observational, androgynous kind. She criticizes Charlotte Bronte for being too passionate in writing Jane Eyre, as if the pressures of oppression and personal tragedy and not being rich influenced Bronte's writing for the worst. Woolf talks about finding a "woman's voice," which is apparently dispassionate and very interested in describing things. A lot. She spends time discussing how the best writing is androgynous, void of either male or female values. You'd have to have your own room and a bunch of money to take the time to write like that.

But to write in general? No. To write well? No. To write like Virginia Woolf, in the manner in which she would approve? Sure. But there are too many female writers who were/are poor, who were/are mothers, who were/are experiencing tragedy to make sweeping statements like the one this work is making. At it's bottom, it's a decidedly middle-class, snobby piece of silly.

2 stars out of your mom, and only because I like the bit about doing research in a library.

"The Pearl" by John Steinbeck: A Review

Um, shortest little book eva? Yes. It's a wee tome based on a folk tale about a poor pearl diver who finds a Big Stinkin' Pearl, and all the hijinks that ensue afterwards. SPOILER: hijinks is code for death and destruction.

Things I Liked: Steinbeck has a way of stating the most heartbreaking things in six word sentences. There's a portion in the book about how a woman's strength can oftentimes break a man's stubbornness silently through sheer female-ness. It's about a paragraph, and is maybe one of the greatest collections of thoughts on gender relations ever. And the portrayals of racism and snobbery are equally terse, but equally effective. Steinbeck is heart-stabby, and never boring.

Not So Fond Of: Uh, the story? It's all THIS IS THE MESSAGE, and that message is dumb: don't try to rise above the social status into which you were born, especially if that involves money, because everything you love will die. There is really only one wealthy character in the book, and he is a big fat stupid-head (no, really, he is). And the poor people are good until they aren't poor, at which point they become Uppity and Violent. It's just a little too...condescending...for me. I don't know if that's the actual moral of the original folk tale, but that's the gist this lady got. Like you're supposed to like/feel bad for the main character because he's a poor indigenous person, and awww aren't they cute until they get a good break and then LOOK OUT! BAD STUFF HAPPENS!

Anywoot, I wasn't a fan of the preachiness but there are moments of fantastic writing that may make it worth your while. And maybe I'm totally off the mark about the folk tale, but then again, reading is subjective, so I'm right whether you think I am or not. Also, you're right. Wait. Is that right?

Three stars out of your mom.

"A History of English Speaking Peoples: Volume 1" by Winston Churchill: A Review

HOKAY. SO. I don't generally review a lot of non-fiction here even though I do READ a lot of non-fiction. I have a B.A. in history and it's kind of my second love, so I try to fit it in when I can. But Churchill's four volume History of English Speaking Peoples is a classic of non-fiction, hence: review.

I heart Winston Churchill, let's just get that out of the way. He was a total bad-ass when the world was in need of a total bad-ass. But he could also string together a coherent thought, unlike more modern bad-asses. I know some people won't agree with me when I say he was an uber-genius, but those people would be wrong. He began his History before the war began and finished it long after, so it was a labor of love.

To begin with, this really needs to be retitled "A History of How Splendiforous the English Speaking Peoples Are, and How the Glory of England Shines on in a Heathen World, Now Who Wants A Sherry, Amen." There's a reason these volumes are not textbooks. Objective, they are not. Winston is VERY JUDGY of the people whose tales he wants to tell. He is all "this man was a military idiot, and was known to be an effeminate weakling and to top it off he was SHORT" and then he's all "but THIS man was a pious officer of the faith, and a great unifying King, and to him we still owe allegiance let's raise a toast." Churchill is quick to call most native people heathens, and you can FEEL his glee when he discusses their demise. But he will give props to heathens with military know-how. The man respects the fight-fight.

So on top of the non-objectivity, there is another issue I know most historical types will take with Churchill: the Great Man Theory. Senor Winston tells the tale of early England by telling the tale of early English kings and the Irish/Saxon/Norman/French dukes/kings/warlords they defeated. He glosses over the lives of everyday people, and leaves you with the impression that the world is formed by Great Men (and sometimes a lady-but-not-often-lets-move-on). Now, coming from Sir Winston Churchill....right. Of course he thinks that. Himself being a Great Man Who Does Things, he is probably only interested in other Great Men Who Did Things.

Honestly, this was refreshing. Most of the history you read now scorns the idea that men (or ladies) can be individually great or affect history themselves- most history nowadays is about "the (insert your under-appreciated group of interest) perspective." It was nice to read a history of a nation written by someone who believed in things like destiny, and individual greatness, and valor and all those odd words we never hear anymore.

Anywoot, Churchill's history of England has glaring academic weaknesses- if you ask glaring academics. If you ask me, it's kick ass and I'm going to read the rest of the other three volumes. I think it's more interesting to read history written by someone who made it then it is to read history written by someone who sits at a desk all day being critical. That being said, take it with a grain of salt...there were slaves, and women, and peasants. But Winston would rather talk about knights and kings and People With Axes. And I LIKE IT.

Four stars out of your mom.

We Don't Owe You Jack.

I'm sure many of you are familiar with the big stink on Twitter recently about the author who called book bloggers who gave her a negative review "trashy" and "unprofessional." The author then went on a rant on another blog warning authors to avoid unprofessional, subjective reviewers- by which, of course, she meant bloggers. She then linked directly to the bloggers she was trying to blacklist. I read the review that pissed her off, and of course it was fine. The blogger even said the book didn't work for her, but that she was open to other stuff from the author. Obviously, this author is a whiny little child.

This makes me happy that all the books I review were written by people who are currently, and hopefully will remain, dead. I don't get nasty emails from Charles Dickens calling me unprofessional because I thought The Pickwick Papers was the big boring. Steinbeck hasn't left me snarky, anonymous comments because I thought the dialogue in East of Eden was unrealistic and distracting. Of course, this may change when I die and get to heaven. I have a sneaking suspicion that Charlotte Bronte is up there waiting to spank me because I didn't like The Professor.

Anyway, this angry author lady writes romance novels, I think, and I wouldn't ever read her books anyway BUT now I'm wondering how many people she has pissed off who would have been totally open to her work. So, generally speaking, her hissy fit is outside the realm of what I normally blog about but it has got me contemplating two things:

THING ONE- HOW IMPORTANT ARE BOOK BLOGGERS ANYWAY? Important enough that this author solicited a review and pitched a tantrum when the review wasn't glowing. Important enough that many of us- myself included, though my niche is limited- receive numerous review requests from authors and publishers alike. In her tirade, Angry Author makes repeated reference to "unprofessional" book bloggers, a term she never really defines. I assume she means "not paid" or "not working for the NYT." Here's the thing- most readers I know do not read the NYT. Most readers I know get their book recommendations from friends, family, and bloggers. Angry Author also seems to forget that book bloggers are first and foremost book readers- and some of the most prolific. WE SPEND MONEY. We then tell other people who trust us how to spend THEIR money.

That's the difference here between bloggers and "professional" book reviewers- we're personal. Readers trust us because they know us. We have conversations through comments, social media, and sometimes we even meet face to face. I talk to or hear from my favorite bloggers every day through their posts, through Twitter, through wherever. I don't talk to reviewers from newspapers or magazines. Even if I did- I don't trust their taste. I'm not saying that paid reviewers aren't important, I'm just saying that the relationships book bloggers develop with their readership makes THEIR opinions just as- if not more- important. So maybe try not to piss off the entire community, eh?

THING TWO: WHAT DO WE OWE THE AUTHOR?
As a classics blogger, I say we owe authors just this: not changing their work, an issue that has been discussed at length since the Huck Finn censorship deal.

Aside from that? Jack squat. Angry Author seemed to be under the delusion that reviewers are required to like her book or remain silent. Reviewers are readers, and readers are under no obligation to quantify or qualify their opinions about a book. If a reader doesn't like it, a reader doesn't like it. Just because that reader has a blog doesn't mean that reader owes an author 5, 000 words about why their characters are one-dimensional. Now, most book bloggers do not operate this way because who wants to read a blog that just says "This book was le suck, move on." People want to know why, and I want to tell you why because I like the sound of my own voice. Not really. It's because reviewing books is about the conversation. It's not because I feel like I have to justify my opinion to any author.

So what do you think? Just how important is the book blogging community? And do we owe the authors  a justification for our reviews? Do we owe the authors anything at all?

ETA: I purposefully did not link to Angry Author's rant because I don't want to give her more publicity than I absolutely have to. 

On Non-Thinky Reads

Sometimes- especially since I've entered my third trimester- my brain goes bye bye. It ceases to function as a normal adult's brain should, and instead I become a blathering mush of gobbledegook. When this happens, I read Agatha Christie.

For some reason, Agatha Christie is my non-thinky read, in the same way that I tend to watch marathons of Law and Order: SVU when I don't feel like using the brain piece. There's something comforting in knowing that I don't have to think about it- eventually, someone with a nice mustache will TELL me who the bad guy is, and why they did it, and with what, and in what room. And I'm not considering historical/political context, or the author's personal agenda, or how this particular work influenced the evolution of the novel. Not to say that Agatha Christie didn't have those things (context, agenda, influence), but- I don't care what they are. Because in the end, Hercule Poirot is a cute little Belgian man who tells me what to think about each character the whole time. Woot.

Part of me- the undeniably snobby part- feels a little bad about picking up something as genre-tastic as a detective novel when I'm feeling like not exercising the grey matter. I feel like I should ALWAYS want to exercise my grey matter. THINKING IS MY DEAL. Except when it isn't. The guilt usually goes away when I remember that I read Don Quixote this year.

So, I'm wondering- do you ever feel guilty over some of your book choices? Is there a "right" balance- like it's ok if I read one YA/detective/Dr. Suess/whatever book every six months as long as I make up for it by reading something more literary the rest of the time? ARE THERE RULES to non-thinky books? And what are YOUR choice non-thinky books?

Dish.