narnia – Kristin Houlihan, Writer

Are “the classics” actually good? Wuthering Heights is!

So I’ve been making an effort recently to read some of “the classics” – my husband seems bemused by this, but I feel like I’ve reached a point where I can appreciate literature in a way I just didn’t when I was younger. I’ve always loved to read – but it was all about being wrapped up in the story. As I’ve gotten older, read more, become a mom in need of intellectual stimulation, and become more experienced as an editor and beta reader I’ve gained a greater appreciation for the art of writing. You can get a three-star review from me for an engaging story without amazing writing, but the fives are reserved for those that do both and also convey some sort of life message – communicate some great truths about life.

This year so far I’ve read 1984 and Animal Farm (George Orwell) and I’ve begun reading The Innocence of Father Brown (G.K. Chesteron). In 2019 I read Les Miserables (Victor Hugo), Under the Lilacs (Louisa May Alcott), and Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte). In 2018 I read The Silver Chair (Chronicles of Narnia #4, C.S. Lewis), Sense and Sensibility (Jane Austen), and The Valley of Fear (Arthur Conan Doyle). I only actually enjoyed two of those: The Silver Chair and Wuthering Heights. The rest I’m glad to have read, but didn’t love while I was reading them, if that makes sense.

Since I let this post sit for four months without touching it and don’t remember at all where I was going with it, I’ve decided to offer my quick takes on each of the books I mention above:

The Innocence of Father Brown — It is SLOW. Father Brown always solves the crime, and he usually imparts some bit of Catholic wisdom in the process. But it is slow.

1984 — I finally understand so many cultural references to Orwell. I also do not understand how people do not see the parallels to our modern life. Telescreens remind me an awful lot of Alexa…or Facebook. Scary stuff.

Animal Farm — I never took a European History class, which put me at a great disadvantage when it comes to understanding this book.

Les Miserables — Would any editor anywhere let this book get published nowadays? I LOVE the musical and know all the songs by heart, and the core of the story is wonderful. But we need to slash like…half the book.

Under the Lilacs — I just feel ambivalent about this one. I reread Little Women and Little Men as a kid (rereading books is not something I typically do) because I loved them so much and this one…was just harder to get into and love.

Wuthering Heights — This book is SO DARK. In the past I’ve found it hard to get into books where I can’t identify with the characters, or where the characters are unlikable. Pretty much everyone in Wuthering Heights in unlikable, but I think the story is wonderfully written and so heartbreakingly realistic. Maybe I’ve just reached a point in life where I realize there are no perfect people and so I’m not looking for perfect characters? I think, though, it might be that I found it a fascinating look at why people do horrible things. What makes these people tick? That understanding brings empathy, even the face of human awfulness.

The Silver Chair — Narnia is eternally captivating and all the books have been spectacular so far. I should get back to that series!

Sense and Sensibility — I really, really, really WANT to like Jane Austen. I’m just not sure I do. Some of the characters are infuriating and I’m glad I didn’t live in that society.

The Valley of Fear — I was largely unimpressed, to be honest. Which was a little disappointing.

Have you read any of these books? What do you think of them? Are there any classics I should be sure to read?

Book Review: The Joy of Reading Children’s Literature as an Adult by Bruce Handy

I had such high hopes for this book, but unfortunately was ultimately disappointed. My husband picked it up for me at the library, thinking I might find it interesting — and I did! But I also found it a rather slow read that was definitely inappropriately titled. Rather than, “Wild Things: The Joy of Reading Children’s Literature as an Adult,” a more accurate title would’ve been something like, “One man’s random musings on kids’ books,” because that’s sort of what it felt like to me. Some of those musings were interesting and insightful, and some were just…not. While this seems fairly critical thus far, I do want to highlight a few positives from the book that stood out to me as I read and motivated me to keep reading whenever I felt compelled to give up on the book.

First, the last thing you read in the book is, as is often the case, the author’s acknowledgements. It is clear from this writing that this was a labor of love for the author, and he put an incredible amount of work and effort into it. It took him six years to write the book, and after having read the whole thing, that doesn’t surprise me: it is meticulously researched.

Handy does a a great job distilling the biographies of many famous children’s authors. I was intrigued by the personal stories of authors such as Margaret Wise Brown, Dr. Seuss, Beverly Cleary, and Louisa May Alcott, among others. I learned a lot about their lives, their motivations for writing, and their struggles/triumphs of publishing. It was interesting as an editor of indie books to read about the dynamics between some of these authors and their editors and publishers. The information also lends context to some of the books; in some cases this is very interesting (as in The Cat in the Hat), and in others it is disappointing (as in Little Women).

Early on in the book Handy says, “…what we need from stories changes as we age. When we are very young, what we need are our parents. When we are older…we need…to pull away from their gravitational field….” Unfortunately, I can’t figure out at the moment where that quote is in the book (oops), but I remember it was in one of the first two chapters. He offered it as a way of explaining the differences in picture books for the youngest children and those geared toward slightly older children, but I think it holds a lot of truth – “what we need from stories changes as we age.” I would argue it’s not just as we age, but just as we travel through different phases of life (which may or may not be due to age) and it’s why I have trouble ever answering questions about my favorite books or favorite genres. I’m drawn to different books at different times, based on what I need from stories at that particular moment in my life.

On a simpler level, Handy’s writings on Beverly Cleary and her Henry Huggins/Ramona books inspired me to pick some of them up for my daughter to read. After looking through Ramona the Pest, I decided the books are good reading for her at this age and checked out a few from the library; just today I placed holds on a few more because she’s really been enjoying them. I never read them myself as a kid, and I’m always grateful for good book recommendations for my little bookworm!

Finally, I am awed by Handy’s opinion of C.S. Lewis. It’s rare to find an atheist who so highly praises a Christian writer. To me, the praise Handy gives Lewis is some of the highest:

I’m no expert, but Lewis’s ostensible fantasy strikes me as an unusually sophisticated, not to mention graceful and humane, portrayal of belief, no matter the age of the intended audience. Or perhaps I should just say that the Narnia books allow me to “get it” in a way that most religious expression, whether art or testament, does not (176).

I find that last sentence to be so beautiful, and to encapsulate the very purpose (as I see it) of the Narnia books — for people to “get it.” It speaks to Lewis’s great talent and, I would argue, some intervention of the Holy Spirit, that he can write such enjoyable books in such a way that even those who do not believe God exists can start to understand belief.

So, for lack of a more eloquent way to wrap this up, I’ll leave it there. Overall, I give the book probably a 2.5 (somewhere between “eh” and “it was ok”), but as you can see I gained quite a bit from it so it was worth persevering.

Top Ten Tuesday (Last week’s edition) – Bookish locations

**So I wrote most of this post last week for last week’s Top Ten Tuesday… and then I lost it. My personal IT support team (read: my husband, who has never used WordPress before) kindly unearthed it for me. So, I’m wrapping it up and posting it for this week instead. Enjoy!

It’s Top Ten Tuesday time again, hosted at The Broke and the Bookish. This week’s theme is “bookish settings you’d like to visit.” My first participation in Top Ten Tuesday I slacked off and didn’t get to ten, but I’m going to do better this time. Here goes:

Narnia – I’ve been reading The Chronicles of Narnia with my eldest daughter the past two years and Narnia is so full of adventures!
Mammoth Lakes, California – This is the setting of Stopping the Road, which I wrote about last week. My husband was out there this summer to climb in the Sierra with his sister. When I’m done nursing (it WILL happen someday soon) and back in climbing shape (that will take a bit longer…) I’d love to get out there with him myself!
Alaska – I recently read Braving It and while I don’t quite want to experience the Alaskan wild in the same way Cameron and his daughter do, Alaska is definitely on my list of places I’d like to go.
Israel/the Holy Land – Frequent readers around here know I’m passionately Catholic, and the Holy Land is near the top of my list of places to go. I recently read An Unexpected Afterlife (review forthcoming), which takes place in Jerusalem. It’s a fascinating read; I definitely want to read the sequel!
Scotland – Loch Ness Monster, anyone? A lot of At the Water’s Edge takes place in Scotland, and though I’m sure it’s entirely different now than it was in the 1940s (which is when the book takes place), it certainly seems like an interesting place to visit.
The body farm – A body farm is a facility where researchers study decomposition. Apparently there are six in the United States, and I know that at least the one at the University of Tennessee offers tours. I’ve always been fascinated by forensic anthropology; Dead Men Do Tell Tales is just one of many books I’ve read on the subject.
Calabria – Ok, so I’ve already been there, but I’d love to go again. I had the great privilege of going there as a teenager and seeing the towns where my great-grandparents grew up. I remember thinking it was a place stuck in the past, and I wonder what it looks like today. Strega Nona is a favorite of mine, and I love that she lives “in a little town in Calabria.”
Vietnam – Senior year of college I took a class on postwar Vietnam and it was fascinating; I’ve wanted to visit ever since. The Unwanted, a memoir written about the plight of mixed-race children of Vietnamese women and American soldiers, was assigned reading for the course and I’ve never forgotten it.
Who-ville – I want to be clear here that I mean the Who-ville of How The Grinch Stole Christmas and not Horton Hears a Who. I mean, it’s the same Who-ville but I want to visit at Christmas – to join the Whos for the singing and the feast, not the drop into a field of clovers…
Plum Creek – I think I’ve mentioned before that I loved the Little House on the Prairie books so much as a kid that I wanted to return the whole country to covered wagon times. Well, after rereading several of the books in the series with my daughter, I think I’ve decided that Plum Creek (where they live in On the Banks of Plum Creek) is my favorite location. There’s something about living in a dugout house along the creek that still seems wonderful, even though my adult, mom-eyes have a whole new perspective on the life of the Ingalls family!