Medieval Monday: The Role of Drinking in Beowulf

“Drunk and Pledged”: The Role of Alcohol in Beowulf 

Matt Groening calls alcohol “the cause of…and the solution to…all of life’s problems” (“Quotes”). The Middle Ages, it seems, would agree. Drinking was clearly an important part of life; after all the primary place of gathering was called the “mead”-hall. Most of the important events then (and now) were celebrated with alcohol. Within Beowulf, alcohol has two primary effects: to cultivate community and to boost confidence. Both of these fulfill the larger purpose of engendering courage in the warriors.

Drinking held ritual significance in the Middle Ages, functioning as a way to celebrate individual and communal victories as well as foster a strong sense of community. One particular ritual, symbel, well illustrates this point. During symbel, “a celebrant would drink ale or mead from a drinking horn” presented by the lady of the house (Black 75, Wills). This takes place in Beowulf at both Heorot and Hygelac’s hall. At Heorot, Queen Wealhtheow presides over the ritual:

“Adorned in her gold, she graciously saluted the men in the hall, then handed the cup first to Hrothgar, their homeland’s guardian, urging him to drink deep and enjoy it because he was dear to them. And he drank it down like the warlord he was, with festive cheer. (614-619) 

After serving Hrothgar, Queen Wealhtheow offers the cup to the warriors according to rank, culminating with Beowulf, one of the lowest ranks at this point as he has not yet proven himself:

So the Helming woman went on her rounds, queenly and dignified, decked out in rings, offering the goblet to all ranks, treating the household and the assembled troop, until it was Beowulf’s turn to take it from her hand. (620-624) 

As readers find out later in the poem, Freawaru, King Hrothgar and Queen Wealhtheow’s daughter, also performs this ritual: “Sometimes Hrothgar’s daughter distributed / ale to older ranks, in order on the benches” (2020-2021). In Hygelac’s hall, “Haereth’s daughter / moved about with the mead-jug in her hand, / taking care of the company, filling the cups / that warriors held out” (1980-1983). The continual reference to symbel reveals its importance to Anglo-Saxon culture, and as Black identifies, making drinking a ritual ensures the drinker becomes an active, integrated member of that culture (77).

Communal drinking equals social attachment, and not only does “sharing in ritual activity result in increased social bonding, [it also] emphasiz[es] the validity of the group” (Black 77). Reminiscent of the Catholic ritual of the Eucharist which includes the entire congregation drinking wine from a shared cup, this sort of ritualized drinking ceremony bound the warriors to each other and to the house the cup-bearer represented.

Even without the ritualized aspects, group drinking is a bonding activity. Beowulf describes Heorot hall as “a happy gathering. In my whole life / I have never seen mead enjoyed more / in any hall on earth” (2014-2016). Later when describing Heorot, Beowulf states that “Inside Heorot / there was nothing but friendship” (1016-1017) after the men “fell to with relish; [and] round upon round / of mead was passed” (1013-1014). While it could be argued that the friendship would exist without the alcohol, “alcohol serves as a bonding agent…lubricating social interaction and creating commonality” (Black 131). Through the ritualization of drinking and the shared enjoyment of drinking, beer in Beowulf certainly helps build a sense of community.

But that is not the only role beer plays in this epic poem. The effect of alcohol on confidence has been well documented anecdotally. A few cups in, one feels the beginning rush of confidence which, a few cups later, becomes arrogance. This is particularly evident in Beowulf with the character Unferth, who seems to become quite boastful while drinking. After Unferth insults Beowulf, Beowulf replies: “Well, friend Unferth, you have had your say / about Breca and me. But it was mostly beer / that was doing the talking” (530-531). Clearly, Beowulf believes that drinking has loosened Unferth’s tongue and provided him with the confidence needed to speak his mind, if a bit foolishly.

Unferth’s propensity to talk foolishly while drinking is mirrored by others in Beowulf. During Beowulf’s digression regarding Ingeld, Beowulf posits that “an old spearman will speak while they are drinking…[and] stir up trouble” (2041-2046). Here Beowulf is saying that under the influence of alcohol some of the warriors may gain the, possibly misplaced, confidence to say what should be kept silent. Again, the use of alcohol provides the “liquid courage” needed for a warrior to speak his mind without filters.

This “liquid courage” inspired more than insults and trash talk though. Drinking also inspired warriors to fight for their lord. Reading Beowulf reveals the link between drinking and oaths of loyalty. As Beowulf states, “I remember that time when mead was flowing, / how we pledged loyalty to our lord in the hall” (2633-2634). This connection is referenced earlier as well when it is stated that “the thanes…having drunk and pledged…do as I bid” (1230-1231). Swearing oaths of loyalty while drinking makes sense in a culture which not only ritualized drinking, but also made it a central part of life.

Combine these oaths of loyalty with an increase in confidence and a strongly instilled sense of community, and what results is a group of warriors feeling invincible and ready for action. In Heorot, the men drink in preparation for a night battling Grendel: “Time and again, when the goblets passed and seasoned fighters got flushed with beer they would pledge themselves to protect Heorot and wait for Grendel with their whetted swords. (484-487) These men, brave with alcohol would be dead by morning (491). This sort of stress certainly weighs on a person. Knowing what was coming, the men needed something not only to motivate them to fight, but also to keep them from fleeing in the first place. Their lives were hard, their fights dangerous, and alcohol may have made all of that a bit easier to face.

By increasing their confidence and binding them together as a community, alcohol served to embolden warriors, inspiring them to courageous acts. Now, centuries later, alcohol still fulfills many of the same purposes, although maybe on a lesser scale. Instead of mead-halls, we congregate in bars, but drinking still engenders a feeling of community. Instead of inducing the confidence and bravery to fight a monster, we get the courage to talk to someone new. We celebrate with alcohol and make our oaths under the influence, and alcohol is still “the cause of…and the solution to…all of life’s problems” (“Quotes”).

“Beowulf”. Trans. Seamus Heaney. The Norton Anthology of English Literature. Gen. ed. Stephen Greenblatt. 9^th ed. Vol. A. New York: Norton, 2012. 36-108. Print.

Black, Rachel. Alcohol in Popular Culture: An Encyclopedia. Santa Barbara, CA: Greenwood, 2010. Web.

“Quotes About Alcohol.” Goodreads. Goodreads, Inc., 2015. Web. 21 May 2015.

Wills, John. “Symbel: The Heathen Drinking Ritual?”. Oðrœrir Vol. 2 (2012). Academia.edu. Web. 14 May 2015.

Medieval Monday: Sir Gawain

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight begins by situating King Arthur in history. The poet places Arthur in a royal line including Aeneas, Romulus, Ticius, Langobard, and Felix Brutus, men who founded new lands, and some even have these lands named after them (Rome, Tuscany, Lombardy). Then the poet introduces Arthur, “honored above all” (26). All of this is to get the audience ready so they will “listen a little while to [his] tale” (30).

When the tale begins, readers are smacked down into a giant party. With a party spanning Christmas and New Year, it seems like the knights and ladies at Camelot were really living it up: “the feasting lasted a full fortnight and one day, / with more food and drink than a fellow could dream of” (45-46). Everyone was “luminous with joy” (49) which after the amount of drinking going on in Beowulf, I read as ‘ridiculously tipsy”.

The happily inebriated company sits down to eat, but as was the custom, the food could not be had until some form of entertainment commenced, whether a song or a fight. This is where we finally meet Gawain who is sitting next to Guinevere, indicating that he is a knight of good standing. Once the poet has described the seating arrangement and the food, my assigned section ends.

I did get a kick out of the rather detailed description of the dining hall. The poet very carefully describes where everyone is sitting, what food is being served, and in what order it is being served. I wonder why such detail was given. Wouldn’t the audience already know the customs? Why include such extensive descriptions?

More interesting, to me, is the idea that the king wouldn’t eat until someone either told a story or challenged a knight to a fight. The story I get, but the fight? The poet says: “till some chancer had challenged his chosen knight, / dared him, with a lance, to lay life on the line, / to stare death face-to-face and accept defeat / should fortune or fate smile more favorably on his foe” (96-99). I find it quite strange that they would chance injury or even death just for some pre-dinner entertainment. Then again, it is possible that the poet is exaggerating the danger. Considering how often knights dueled in one fashion or another, I can’t see the danger being so immediate or wouldn’t they have died out rather quickly? Does anyone have any insight into this?

Marije Pots calls this the "no adventure - no dinner" custom and claims that the danger is quite real. She also states, based on research, that the death of a knight is "a risk which King Arthur and his knights must have been aware of when the tradition was first introduced". For these knights, "whatever the consequence, the custom 'formed a traditional code of chivalrous practice' and the honour which could be gained from it overcame the fear of death or failure (Pots). Amazing to think that honor meant so much one would risk life and limb before dinner. Do we have any equivalent to this today?

This only covers the very first portion of this tale, which I highly recommend reading. Hopefully I'll get my act together and post on the rest of the story soon.

Pots, Marije. "The Function of Food and Dinner in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight." eThesis.net, 2011. Web. 28 May 2015.

“Sir Gawain and the Green Knight”. Trans. Simon Armitage. The Norton Anthology of English Literature. Gen. ed. Stephen Greenblatt. 9th ed. Vol. A. New York: Norton, 2012. 186-238. Print.

Medieval Monday: Lanval's Sugar Momma

Written by the most awesome Marie de France in the 12th century, The Lay of Lanval takes us through the strange romance of an Arthurian Knight, Lanval, and a mysterious woman, presumably a faerie queen, on to his imprisonment for insulting Queen Guinevere, and to his eventual vindication. A much longer summary follows...

Lanval is not favored by Arthur and the men may “feign the appearance of love” (24) but apparently they “would not have been at all disturbed” (26) “if something unpleasant happened to him” (25). He is a rich man from a foreign household who, since Arthur is not giving him gifts, is in rather dire straits. That is, until he begins an affair with a beautiful rich woman who provides him with more than he needs so long as he tells no one of their affair. If he speaks of their love, she will desert him forever.

Unfortunately, Queen Guinevere takes a liking to Lanval and propositions him. He rejects her, and instead of taking it like a lady, Guinevere shockingly insults Lanval, insinuating that he is gay, a “base coward”, and a “lousy cripple”, who is so horrid that God may abandon Arthur because he associates with Lanval (280-286). Lanval loses it and tells Guinevere that he is in love with a woman whose servants are “better than [Guinevere] / in body, face, and beauty” (300-301). The queen, royally ticked off (pun intended) tells Arthur that Lanval tried to seduce her and when she rejected him he “insulted and offended her” (319).

Arthur has Lanval arrested for his offense against Guinevere. Knowing he broke his promise to his mistress and that, true to her word, she will no longer be with him, Lanval does not care about the charges against him: “they could have killed him, for all he cared” (358). Lanval denies the charges against him, saying that he did not proposition the queen and that, while he did say his love was more beautiful, he was speaking the truth in that matter. Arthur puts Lanval on trial, and the court begs Lanval to bring forth his lady love as if he can prove she is more beauteous than Guinevere, then he will have spoken the truth and be vindicated. He, of course, can't get in touch with his mistress since he broke the rules and told someone about her. Eventually she does show up, and as everyone can see she's like the cat's meow and hotter than hot, Lanval is set free. He rides off into the sunset with his love.

I find the relationship between Lanval and the mystery woman fascinating. This woman seems to be the one in control of the relationship. She approaches Lanval, she sets the terms of their relationship, she’s the one with the money. She is, in effect, Lanval’s sugar momma. Now the poem states that “she was completely at his command” (218), but I can’t quite figure out how that is so. While she does ‘make herself available’ to him sexually, I’m inclined to believe that their sexual relationship is not only to her liking, but her idea in the first place.

I’m trying to figure out if this woman, who is so in control, so sexual, is a hero or villain in this tale, and how she relates to the gender expectations of her time. If anyone knows or has any ideas, please share.

Medieval Monday: Beowulf's Digression

So last week, we talked about Beowulf's insult, and this week I'm focusing on Beowulf’s Digression in lines 2009-2072 which focuses on a “what-if” scenario. Apparently, Hrothgar has promised his daughter, Freawaru, in marriage to Ingeld, King of the Heatho-Bards, a neighboring tribe with whom the Geats have been feuding. The previous King of the Heatho-Bards, Froda, was killed by the Danes (Freawaru’s people) as were many of his thanes. All hope “this woman will heal old wounds / and grievous feuds” (2027-2028). No pressure, right?

Beowulf doesn’t hold out much hope for this peace-making marriage, believing instead that “generally the spear / is prompt to retaliate when a prince is killed, / no matter how admirable the bride may be” (2029-2031). He envisions a scenario in which, after a few drinks, the Heatho-Bards resent the influx of Danes celebrating their kinswoman’s marriage. He posits that some will start noticing their ancestors’ armor in the hands of the visiting Danes: “your father’s sword, his favorite weapon / the one he wore when he went out in his war-mask / to face the Danes on that final day” (2047-2050). This observation will rile everyone up until eventually “one of the lady’s retainers lies / spattered in blood, split open” (2059-2060). Peace broken.

One thing I find interesting about this digression is the horrid, crazy situation in which poor Frearwaru may find herself. Many women were used as "peace-weavers" throughout history; girls married off in order to broker peace between the two tribes/nations. How jacked up is that? A single person, and one who basically has no power, responsible for ending hostility between tribes. In Beowulf's hypothetical, this does not end well for Freawaru and Ingeld as he cannot forget the massive deathtoll visited upon him by Freawaru's father.

Another thing I find interesting about this digression is its very existence. Why does the poet include this strange tangent in a poem centered on the heroics of Beowulf? The story has nothing to do with Beowulf whatsoever. The feud is between the Danes and the Heatho-Bards, not the Geats; Beowulf didn’t really know Freawaru; the outcome of the feud seems to have no effect on Beowulf or the Geats.

The relationship between this digression and the Finn song from Heorot is clear. Finn thought he had brokered peace, but the conquered Danes rose up and killed him, raiding his treasure and bringing it back to Denmark, as soon as they were able (1070-1161). So too, Ingeld may believe he is brokering peace by marrying Freawaru, but the Heatho-Bards will, according to Beowulf, not stand for it, and even Ingeld may find himself in a position to choose between vengeance and his bride. Vengeance, of course, will win.

Beowulf’s prediction about Ingeld is the result of the lesson he learned from the bard’s song regarding Finn. Perhaps that is the reason for the digression: to show Beowulf’s wisdom. He can take the lesson learned from one tale and apply it to a similar situation. Honestly though, I am very unsure as to why the Ingeld digression or the Finn digression are a part of this poem. Any ideas?

Medieval Monday: Beowulf's Insult

I'm sure many of you have read Beowulf, or at least know the basics of the tale. If not, you can read the Seamus Heaney translation of Beowulf here. Put simply, a young buck named Beowulf comes to Heorot, King Hrothgar's hall, to rid the land of Grendel, a monster who has been decimating the population for over a decade. He kicks Grendel's ass, but that pisses off Grendel's mother who attacks the warriors in retribution. Beowulf, of course, has to go kill her then. After which - and yes, there's more if you can believe it - Beowulf returns home, eventually becomes King, and has to fight off a damn dragon in his old age which does not go well for the dragon or Beowulf.

For this post, I am only interested in discussing one particular part of the poem. Lines 399-606 in Beowulf cover two separate conversations. The first is the meeting of Beowulf, a warrior come to rid Heorot of Grendel, and Hrothgar, King of Heorot. Beowulf speaks first, telling how the stories of Grendel reached him, how he finally had to come help, and asking Hrothgar’s permission to take on this quest. Then, he boasts that since Grendel doesn’t use weapons to fight, he too will “renounce / sword and the shelter of the broad shield” (436-437) and fight Grendel in hand-to-hand combat. Because, of course, that's what a "real man" would do.

Hrothgar replies to Beowulf respectfully and with a short history lesson. Apparently Hrothgar once paid off a family Beowulf’s father had offended, “heal[ing] the feud by paying” (470). After, Beowulf’s father had “acknowledged [Hrothgar] with oaths of allegiance” (471). After establishing their one-degree of separation, Hrothgar admits that he is ashamed of needing others to stop Grendel. He says that despite all their boasting, his “seasoned fighters” (481) are no match for Grendel, and they all end up dead.

Pleasantries exchanged, the party begins, and then we have the second conversation which is between Unferth, one of Hrothgar’s warriors, and Beowulf. Unferth is not a fan of Beowulf; he is envious as “he could not brook or abide the fact / that anyone else alive under heaven / might enjoy greater regard than he did” (503-505). Unferth relates a story about Beowulf and one of his friends, Breca, engaging in a swimming-match. Unferth claims that “it was sheer vanity made [Beowulf] venture out” (509) and that Breca won. He also ominously states that regardless of Beowulf’s skill in fighting, “no one has ever / outlasted an entire night against Grendel” (527-528) and that Beowulf will surely fail.

Beowulf does not take kindly to this and he retells the Breca-swimming match tale much to his betterment. He also lays the smack down on Unferth saying “Now I cannot recall / any fight you entered, Unferth, / that bears comparison” (582-583) and Beowulf goes on to remind Unferth, and everyone else in the hall, that Unferth “killed [his] own kith and kin” ( 587) and as such, he “will suffer damnation in the depths of hell” (589). Just to top things off, Beowulf also points out that if Unferth were as great a warrior as he claims to be, then Grendel would “never have got away with / such unchecked atrocity” (592-593).

Beowulf then, much to my surprise, extends the insult to all of the Danes, claiming that Grendel knows:

“he can trample down you DanesTo his heart’s content, humiliate and murderWithout fear of reprisal. But he will find me different.I will show him how Geats shape to killIn the heat of battle. (599-603)

I find this particular quote very interesting as Beowulf is truly insulting all of the Danes, including King Hrothgar. I get the boasting: ‘I’m the biggest, baddest, strongest warrior of all, and I will rid this land of the evil that befalls it’. All of that makes sense. It even makes sense that Beowulf would insult Unferth; after all, the warrior had just questioned Beowulf’s prowess. But for Beowulf to go this far with the insult is a bit crazy to me. What purpose is served by belittling all of them? How do none of the Danes in the hall have a response to this?

Why, do you think, Beowulf’s insult is made in the first place? And, why do you think it passes unremarked upon by the Danes?

Medieval Monday: The Wanderer

Brief Overview
Preserved in the Exeter Book, “The Wanderer” is one of the oldest poems we have access to; while the Exeter book dates from the 10th century, much of its content is clearly from an earlier time in the Anglo-Saxon period. An elegiac lament, the poem is a melancholy recitation of grief liberally peppered with nostalgia. I read the Alfred David translation in The Norton Anthology of English Literature, but you can access many translations online (other than David's of course) such as Jeffrey Hopkins translation.

First section of The Wanderer as it appears in the Exeter Book

The speaker in the poem, identified as “the wanderer” by the poet, is “wax[ing] dark” (59) about the loss of his lord and fellow warriors. His lament reaches a larger scale in the second half of the poem when he moves from the personal to the universal, mourning the loss of lords and warriors past. It is as if the wanderer is grieving the loss of his culture itself: “all over middle-earth / walls are standing wind-swept and wasted / downed by frost, and dwellings covered with snow” (75-77). It is possible the poem was written as the Anglo-Saxons were moving from paganism to Christianity, and the speaker is reflecting on this cultural shift.

Despite the rather depressing nature of the poem, the wanderer does spend a lot of time defining what it means to be a wise man in a way that does not detract from the melancholy but contains within it a bit of ‘kernel of truth’ type insight that pushes depressing into moving. Then, as now, it seems stories that bring you down are forgiven if they also instruct. The wanderer’s list of requirements for wise men primarily includes remonstrations to be moderate in all things.

The wanderer’s story doesn’t end with the personal and the universal; it also includes the celestial. Overall, the wanderer seems to be arguing that the world is a rather “wretched” (106) place, but we will be better off in heaven “where a fortress stands for us all” (115). This idea that turning to God will lessen our woes bookends the bulk of the poem, and provides some evidence that the poem was created at the meeting of pagan and Christian culture. This is notably evident by the positioning of the more Christian elements which are only located at the very beginning and very end of the poem, suggesting they were add-ons to a complete work already in existence.

The Problem of Translation

In my post responding to prompt #2, I question whether the original poem was meant to be as emotionally wrought as the David translation we read in the anthology. I looked around a bit at other translations, and I noticed a definite difference in tone. For example, our translation reads: “All is wretchedness in the realm of earth” (106), but look at the following translations:

1.  “All is sorrowful in this earthly realm” (Kline 106)
2.  “All the kingdom of the earth is full of hardships” (Diamond 106)
3.  “Irksome is all the realm of the earth” (Thorpe 106)
4. “In the earth-realm all is crossed” (Alexander 106)
5. “All is full of hardship in this rich earth” (MacDonald 106)

While clearly similar in content (although oddly not the same), these different translations are markedly different in tone. Saying the earth is “wretched” (David 106) is quite different from calling it “irksome” Thorpe 106). A place which is “full of hardship” (Diamond 106; McDonald 106) is not the same as “sorrowful” (Kline 106).

In the David translation earthly objects are “fleeting” (108-110) while in other translations, they are “transient” (Thorpe 108-110), “transitory” (McDonald 108-110; Diamond 108-110), and “lent” to us (Hopkins 108-110; Alexander 108-110). The earth becomes “empty” (David 110; Hopkins 110; Diamond 110; Alexander 110), “vain” (McDonald 110), “wasted” (Kline 110), “desolate” (Thorpe 110).

I’m sure it is no surprise to learn that synonyms are not exact matches. After all, revolutionary and freedom fighter are both synonyms of terrorist. The connotations assigned to a word are just as important as the denotation, and this issue must be doubly problematic when translating a language not spoken for hundreds of years.

So to my question: Considering the variance in translation, can we truly analyze or even understand the works as they were intended originally? And if not, how do we assign validity and importance to these poems?

Classics Club: Modern Classics

The February Meme question:

What about modern classics? Pick a book published since 2000 and say why you think it will be considered as a “classic” in the future.

For some reason, I sat and stared at this question FOREVER. The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak is the most popular answer so far, and I can definitely see why people are choosing it. Quite artfully written, The Book Thief captured a great many readers. I didn't love it the way most did, so it's not my choice for this one. But what is? What is? What is? What is? Like I said, this was a difficult question for me.

Erin Morgenstern's The Night Circus certainly pops into my head as a possibility. So many disparate elements are woven into this story: a double handful of plot lines, a whole mess of characters, a setting so complex I believe an entire book could be written just describing the various aspects. And yet, it is all put together so perfectly creating an absolutely breathtaking read.

Writing this reminds me that I need to pick up the audio version of this book as it is supposed to be phenomenal.


Twitter hashtag: #ccmeme

Classics Club 50 Question Survey Part 2 and Giveaway

The Classics Club posted a 50 question survey for participants, and since it sounded like fun, I split the questions in half, then deleted a few of them, and went crazy answering.

Which classic character can’t you get out of your head? Humbert Humbert from Lolita. And his voice is that of Jeremy Irons since I listened to the first half of the book...

Which classic character most reminds you of yourself? I have no clue. I can't say that I've ever seen myself in a character in a novel of any sort, let alone a classic where the characters, especially the female characters, are so remarkably different from me.

Whose advice do you always take when it comes to literature? There are quite a few bloggers who consistently recommend awesome books. Ana from things mean a alot, Amanda from The Zen Leaf, Andi from Estella's Revenge, Kim from Sophisticated Dorkiness, April from The Steadfast Reader, I could honestly keep going, and I know I'm missing some really important-to-me recommenders, but I felt I must stop.  

Favorite memory with a classic? Teaching Ancient and Medieval Literature for the first time! I found it so amazingly satisfying to watch a bunch of students enjoy the stories we read, especially because they (and I) were pretty sure they would hate it. 

Classic author you’ve read the most works by? I honestly have no idea. I very rarely read by author and classics are no exception.

Classic author who has the most works on your club list? I have ten books on the list from Wilkie Collins; although I don't know if that counts since quite a few of those books are not polished final drafts...My second place goes to George Eliot with seven books on the list.

If you could explore one author’s literary career from first publication to last — meaning you have never read this author and want to explore him or her by reading what s/he wrote in order of publication — who would you explore? Obviously this should be an author you haven’t yet read, since you can’t do this experiment on an author you’re already familiar with. :) Or, which author’s work you are familiar with might it have been fun to approach this way? I think I would go with Virginia Woolf for this one.

How many rereads are on your club list? If none, why? If some, which are you most looking forward to, or did you most enjoy? I have quite a few re-reads (around 15-20) on my list, most of which I read in high school and have almost no memory of. 

Has there been a classic title you simply could not finish?

Has there been a classic title you expected to dislike and ended up loving?

I expected the Dostoevsky to be too ambiguous and complicated and well, the same from Mill's book.

Classic you are DEFINITELY GOING TO MAKE HAPPEN next year?

Classic you are NOT GOING TO MAKE HAPPEN next year?

Favorite thing about being a member of the Classics Club? I wish I could be awesome and say the people (whom I adore), but for me the Classics Club motivates me to read and that is a wondrous thing.

If you’ve ever participated in a readalong on a classic, tell about the experience? The Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde readalong went remarkably well; however I bailed less than halfway through on the Ulysses readalong (as holy heavens was that book just not worth it).

If you could appeal for a readalong with others for any classic title, which title would you name? Why?

How long have you been reading classic literature? I'm not sure when I first started or what my first book was, but I distinctly remember an early on experience with classic literature. I was in grade school, right around fifth grade, and I had just read my first Shakespeare play,borrowed from my school library. I enjoyed it and went to my town's public library to pick up another Shakespeare, When I tried to check it out, the librarian wouldn't let me because I was too young. Completely embarrassed I left the library. And so ended my time in libraries and my money-taking need to buy my books.

What about you guys? I would love to know your answers to any or all of these questions, and to motivate you to answer....a giveaway! You can win any my audio of Lolita, a copy of The House of the Dead, or a copy of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by simply answering one of the above questions and letting me know which book you would like to win in the comments.

Classics Club 50 Question Survey Part 1 and Giveaway

Just for fun The Classics Club put together a 50 question survey. And just for fun I decided to fill it out; although I did not fill out every question, and I separated it out into two posts. So without further ado: 

Share a link to your club list. My Way Too Long List

When did you join The Classics Club? How many titles have you read for the club? I have read 23 of the (continually growing) list of almost 200 classics.

What are you currently reading?      What did you just finish reading?

Currently Reading                Just Finished

What are you reading next? Why? No Clue. Until my grad class is over, I see my reading limited to the books for the course (the two mentioned in the previous question) and maybe some very light reading material.

Best books you’ve read so far with the club:

Book you most anticipate on your club list?

Book on your club list you’ve been avoiding:

First classic you ever read? No Clue. I started reading classics in grade school.

Toughest classic you ever read? Too difficult to determine and define. Lolita was a tough read, due to content not language. Other classics are difficult because of vocabulary, ambiguity, unknown allusions, etc.

Classic that inspired you?

Written so damn well...

Favorite biography about a classic author you’ve read — or, the biography on a classic author you most want to read, if any? Yeah, I don't really care about authors. Is that bad of me? 

Which classic do you think EVERYONE should read? Why? 

Favorite movie adaption of a classic? Hate the book, Love the movie

Classic which hasn’t been adapted yet (that you know of) which you very much wish would be adapted to film.

Least favorite classic? Why? Ambiguous, racist, sexist, 

Name five authors you haven’t read yet whom you cannot wait to read. Mary Elizabeth Braddon, Charles Dickens, D.H. Lawrence, Anthony Trollope, H. Rider Haggard

Which title by one of the five you’ve listed above most excites you and why? 

I want to know her secret....

If a sudden announcement was made that 500 more pages had been discovered after the original “THE END” on a classic title you read and loved, which title would you most want to keep reading? 

Or, would you avoid the augmented manuscript in favor of the original? Why? I would try to avoid it at all costs - especially if I already loved the story. Eventually however, I would cave and read the extended edition.

Favorite children’s classic?

What about you guys? I would love to know your answers to any or all of these questions, and to motivate you to answer....a giveaway! You can win any of the books mentioned above by simply answering one of the above questions and letting me know which book you would like to win in the comments.

Victorian Literature

Ah, Victorian Literature, term so many people know - even complete non-readers. As with all literary modes and traditions, tacking down the time and place of Victorian Literature (hereafter VicLit) is difficult. We are roughly talking about literature written by mainly white people in the mid to late 1800s. To give you an idea, here are a few of the major writers of the Victorian period:

The Brontes, Matthew Arnold, Arthur Conan Doyle, Wilkie Collins, George Eliot, Lord Alfred Tennyson, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Lewis Carroll, William Butler Yeats, Charles Dickens, Elizabeth Gaskell, Oscar Wilde and honestly the list cold go on forever. Much of the popular classics we read are from this period.

Thematically, VicLit runs the gamut: propriety, morality, social advancement and inequality, civility, gender roles, evolution, colonialism and colonization, industrialization, and on and on. Clearly over such a long time, roughly 70 years, times and tastes and trends change and so did the literature.

I have quite a bit of VicLit on my shelves- roughly 90 books - either waiting to be read or re-read or even re-re-read. Here are a few of the VicLit books I have on the shelves by author:

• Wilkie Collins - The Moonstone, The Woman in White, No Name,
• Elizabeth Gaskell - North and South, Mary Barton, Cranford, Wives and Daughters, Cousin Phyllis,
• Charlotte Bronte - Villette, Jane Eyre,
• George Eliot - Adam Bede; Silas Marner; The Mill on the Floss; Middlemarch; Daniel Deronda, Scenes of a Clerical Life, Romola, Felix Holt,
• Samuel Butler - Erewhon,
• Charles Dickens - Great Expectations, David Copperfield, Bleak House, Hard Times, Martin Chuzzlewit, A Tale of Two Cities,
• Oscar Wilde - The Picture of Dorian Gray, The Importance of Being Earnest
• Bram Stoker - Dracula
• Robert Louis Stevenson - The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,
• Mary Elizabeth Braddon - Lady Audley's Secret, Aurora Floyd
• William Makepeace Thackeray - Vanity Fair
• Arthur Conan Doyle - The Complete Sherlock Holmes
• Mary Shelley - Frankenstein
• Anne Bronte - Agnes Grey
• Joseph Conrad - Heart of Darkness
• Thomas Hardy - Far From the Maddening Crowd
• Lewis Carroll - Through the Looking Glass, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
• Anthony Trollope - Barchester Towers, Lady Anna, Rachel Ray,
• John Stewart Mill - The Subjection of Women,
• H.G. Wells - The Island of Dr. Moreau

The ones I have reviews for have links, and the ones I've read but haven't reviewed are italicized. As you can see, I have A LOT of VicLit to choose from if I wish to participate in the Victorian Literature in November event.

As it stands, I have so many books going right now, and I'm participating in Nonfiction November, so I'm not sure I will get around to any of these. Fingers crossed though.

If I do decide to pick one up, which one do you recommend?

Classics Club Check In

I haven't been very active on the Classics Club lately. Then again, I haven't been active at all, so that's understandable. I have, however, been reading a Classic or two since I joined up in March.

My list of Classics is - rather disgustingly - long, and only gets longer, so "progress" is relative. I have a list of 156 books, some of which have subsections listing the short stories, novellas, and even full length books within the larger compilation.

I've been slowly going through Kate Chopin's The Awakening and Other Stories. Slowly, in part due to my enjoyment but not love of Chopin combined with my exact same feelings regarding short stories. I've read The Awakening, Desiree's Baby, A Respectable Woman, and The Godmother and while I haven't been smacked across the face with awesome, I do like the stories and plan on finishing the collection.....at some point.

I started reading Fardorougha the Miser by William Carlton for a Classics Spin, but I tragically failed at finishing it. It's still lounging on the coffee table next to the couch, but it's a wee bit buried by about six other books at this time.

Right now, I'm in 3 of 5 stories in to In a Glass Darkly by Sheridan Le Fanu which I have already read (but never reviewed) and am reading again as I chose it for my Introduction to Literature course this semester. If you haven't already read this, I highly recommend it. There's monkeys and hallucinogenic tea, footsteps with no feet, a big ole heaping of getting what you deserve, vapid rich boys, and lesbian vampires.

I am - obviously - not as involved as I would like to be, but still I'm doing what I can and I hope (fingers crossed) to have more time to dedicate to blogging in general...or rather less time overall, but I'm working on limiting some other activities in my life that take away from blogging.

Just yesterday I started looking at what I was going to read next. I'm thinking of reading a Dostoevsky. I have Notes from the Underground, The Grand Inquisitor, Poor Folk, and Crime and Punishment on the shelves. Any recommendations?

Kate Chopin, A Few Short Stories

As I said in an earlier post, I will be reviewing some of Kate Chopin's short stories in multiple posts. This time around, I am looking at A Respectable Woman (read it online) which may possibly be my favorite in the collection.

Mrs. Baroda and her husband are hosting a guest, Gouvernail who is a colleague of Mr. Baroda's much touted as a clever man. At first, Mrs. Baroda is rather disappointed in their guest as he's being rather boring, too easy, too quiet. The one night Gouvernail sits next to her and talks:

Her mind only vaguely grasped what he was saying. Her physical being was for the moment predominant. She was not thinking of his words, only drinking in the tones of his voice. She wanted to reach out her hand in the darkness and touch him with the sensitive tips of her fingers upon the face or the lips. She wanted to draw close to him and whisper against his cheek--she did not care what--as she might have done if she had not been a respectable woman.

This short scene, only a few paragraphs long, is beautifully poignant to me. There is a subtlety to the passion Chopin communicates through all of her stories that for me, increases its intensity. Chopin also seems to truly understand the importance of a moment, a short period of time packing quite the punch. And I can't exclaim enough over the ending to this story. Loved it.

Another favorite of mine in this collection is The Godmother. There will be plot spoilers for this one, and I couldn't find a place to read it online. In this story, a drunken Gabriel, stabs and kills a man afterwards fleeing the scene and showing up at Tante Elodie, his godmother's house. She convinces him to keep quiet, provides him with an alibi, and even modifies the crime scene (without his knowledge) to make it look like a robbery gone bad. Tante Elodie's health declines after this and Gabriel makes himself quit absent from her life being absolutely horrified by her role in all of it; he moves out of town, movies back, and eventually dies. The story ends only a few sentences later.

The ending confused me a bit. I can't decide if Gabriel's death was the final blow for Tante Elodie or a relief. Some of the language at the end gives me the impression that she, despite her rather intense love for Gabriel, is relieved by his death. It's as if the worry over Gabriel confessing was more of a burden than Gabriel's actions or her own. She thinks of how "there was nothing now to betray him," and while she ends up "alone in the corner, under the deep shadow of the oaks while the stars came out to keep her company," the feeling is partially depressing and partially liberating. If any of you have read this one and have some thoughts on it, please let me know in the comments!

Desiree's Baby by Kate Chopin

Four years ago, I read The Awakening by Kate Chopin which was part of a collection of hers which included a bunch of short stories. At the time I only read The Awakening, and, to be honest, I was not overly impressed. The novel is clearly a revolutionary insight into the culturally unacceptable dissatisfaction of many women; and yet I was so disappointed in the ending it colored the rest of the novel for me. So much so, that I refrained from reading the other short stories in the collection.

Finally I have read it, and I must say that overall, I am rather impressed. Instead of reviewing the collection as a whole I am going to discuss a few stories at a time. I have no ability to discuss short stories without plot spoilers, so consider yourself warned.

First up is Desiree's Baby (read it online). I decided to read this one because I remember a colleague recommending it for my Intro to Lit course awhile ago. I didn't end up using it - or even reading it - instead settling for another Chopin story I had already read, The Story of an Hour (more on this one later). In Desiree's Baby, our titular character - and I mean the baby, not Desiree - is a joy to her parents, a naive and in love Desiree and a rather unlikeable asshat of a father Armand. Then the twist. Armand, whose cruel demeanor changed with the birth of his son, suddenly returns to his slave-beating, sullen, distant ways, and some time later, Desiree discovers the source of his displeasure: his baby boy is part black. Obvious to Armand, this means that Desiree must be the result of a mixed-race relationship, and Desiree, adopted and unsure of her parents, disappears with the child into the swamp. Then a bigger twist. Armand finds a note from his mother revealing that it is he who is the son of a slave woman.

There's the story in a nutshell; although I must warn you that knowing what happened is nowhere near as important as the way the story is told. Chopin really does have a way with the words people. My only issue with the story - or at least the issue that sticks out most is the final twist. The "shock" here is that Armand was mistaken in thinking Desiree was of mixed race: almost as if the action in the story would have been perfectly acceptable otherwise. It's like the story is suggesting that if Armand was wronged by the "impure blood" of his wife, then her death, or at least disappearance, and that of the child is somehow understandable. I may be reading too much into this, but it did bug me. And at the least, this certainly does offer up some serious points for discussion.

This is the type of story where by the middle you know what is going to happen, but you are somehow still shocked at the end. Simply exploring issues of both gender and race, Desiree's Baby is a wee bit cliched yet still evocative, and I highly recommend reading it.

I would love to hear your thoughts on this story!

Classics Club: The Dirtiest is the Best

Every month The Classics Club posts a question for participants. Here’s the question this month:

Contemplate your favorite classic to date. When was this book written? Why would you say it has been preserved by the ages? Do you think it will still be respected/treasured 100 years from now? If it had been written in our own era, would it be as well received? // Or — ask the same question of a classic you disliked. What didn’t you like about the book, and why do you think history’s readers helped it to be remembered and valued into 2014?

The Monk by Matthew Gregory Lewis popped into my head immediately when I read the question. Written in ten weeks in 1796 by a not-yet 20 year old, The Monk may be evidence that Lewis was FREAKING INSANE. Ten weeks? He wrote this is ten weeks when he was 19??? That's freaking nuts.

Lewis made quite the splash with this novel as it was dirty, dirty, dirty. The notoriety of the novel transferred to Lewis who was known as "Monk" Lewis, the poor man. Lewis was complained of as "a reckless defiler of the public mind" and a man who "devoted the first fruits of his mind to the propagation of evil". He was also called a genius.

Sexually explicit and quite blasphemous, The Monk was a favorite read of the infamous Marquis de Sade. Of course, the general public was quite the fan as well; "They had been told that the book was horrible, blasphemous, and lewd, and they rushed to put their morality to the test". Who wouldn't?

Abounding with monks, nuns, secret passageways, cold corridors, men who are really women, nasty weather, soul-selling witches, prurient interests, superstition, and the occasional dead body, I just adored this one. Far from a balanced examination of good and evil, this gothic tale is evil and then some more evil, oh and a bit more evil, a teeny smidgeon of good, and BA-BAM, more evil.  

The Monk is deliciously scandalous, and I think this sensationalism and shock value are, in part, the reasons it survived the years. Also, the plot is rather complex, in that intellectually challenging but overall satisfying kind of way; although it must be admitted that the narrative's complexity may be better described as absurdity, but in a super-fun, loving-it kind of way (he wrote it in ten weeks remember). I certainly hope the novel is treasured 100 years from now.

As for the last question, my brain is screaming that no, the book would not be well received if written now. First and foremost, its treatment of women is deplorable. Any woman in the novel who attempts to follow her dreams is sensationally, and violently, denied her success. Unless written with an obvious intent to highlight the horror of this misogyny, a book written today, I like to think, would be harshly criticized.*

Another indicator that this book would not work if written today is the heavy focus on "the Church". Much of this story is a criticism of religion, and while religion is certainly under scrutiny today, our religious practices have so drastically changed as to make these censures not quite apropos. Our ideologic construct of monks and nuns and the such not is practically nil, so stories centered on these characters are a bit difficult to relate to - at least in the same way readers back in the 18th century would have related to them.

Ultimately though, this is a fantastic read, a guilty pleasure of the classics, that I highly recommend.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*Of course, I believe we should criticize the novel - and harshly - for this misogyny despite the time period it was written; however, while I would generally dismiss with disgust a contemporary novel written with such a poor view of women, I quite strongly believe that works must be judged according to era-specific ideology, and as such I make allowances.

Fardorougha and I

So I was supposed to have Fardorougha the Miser by William Carlton read and reviewed by today for The Classics Club, but, alas, I have miserably failed in this endeavor. I am, embarrassingly, only on page 37 of 228. Yep, that's really, really shame worthy.

What I have read, I have enjoyed. The language is beautiful, the characters unique, and the possibilities intriguing. Unfortunately, my lazy brain is sucking down large doses of easy reading in the small moments of time I have to read instead of savoring a few bites of this more difficult read.

A bit of background: I first read Fardorougha while an undergrad in 19th century Irish Literature, a class I absolutely adored. We read 10 books in nine weeks, meeting once a week for three hours, so I remember all sorts of awesome feelings, but I sure don't remember much about characters, plot lines, themes, or really anything specific to the books we read outside of a general impression. Definitely need to re-read those works for a better understanding.

Now to the story: As the title suggests, our main character, Fardorougha, is a miser; in other words, he has a pathological obsession with money. The portion of the book I read suggests that when a husband and wife have no children, money becomes a sort of surrogate for their attention: "for, in truth, the affections must be fixed upon something, and we generally find that where children are denied, the world comes in and hardens by its influence the best and tenderest sympathies of humanity". Fardorougha and the missus go twelve years without a child, and then TA-DA, here comes baby.

The birth of a son does not at once turn Fardorougha's heart from miserly interest to fatherly love. He struggles with his feelings something fierce, varying from an avaricious aversion to a being who will cost him money to fatherly affection to, finally, a sort of self-satisfying view of his son where "every act of parsimony on his part was merely one of prudence, and had the love of a father and an affectionate consideration for his child's future welfare to justify it." In other words, he was able to "love his wealth through the medium of his son." This struggle, along with the birth (but seriously, mainly this struggle), occupy the first two chapters of the book at the end of which Connor (the son) is a young man of 22.

Chapter 3 is dedicated to an anecdote which stresses that Fardorougha is a strict money lender, still obsessively concerned with his own wealth, and that Connor and his mother hate Fardorougha's miserliness and lack of humanity towards those he lends money to. Chapter 4 - where I am currently stuck - has Connor getting a bit sickly-sweet on a girl who returns his favor. Obviously these two chapters are setting up Connor as a super nice guy while the first two chapters focused on Fardorougha as a wee bit villainous. I can only assume that this difference between father and son will help create the central conflict of the story.

The next time I get any sort of time alone, I plan on devouring as much of this story as I can. I just can't read a book like this in 4-6 minute chunks of time interspersed with meeting Madison's wants and needs (her current favorite thing to say is "Mommy I need you" which she can say over 50 times a minute if she's on a roll).

Has anyone else read this? A quick Google search suggests that this book is practically non-existent in the virtual world; although Project Gutenberg has it if you are interested.