Top Ten Tuesday: Top Ten All Time Favorite Characters In Books.

Oh goodness, it's Tuesday, which also means that it is Top Ten Tuesday, hosted by the folks over at The Broke and the Bookish.

I had to create a list on today's topic, mostly because I find it nearly impossible to name ten favorite characters, but I am going to do my best to create a list.

Off I go (and these are in no particular order because the only thing harder than narrowing this down to ten is picking an actual favorite).

1. Severus Snape from Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling: I have loved Snape since the first time he came on the page in Sorcerer's Stone. I was always intrigued by his back story and why he was just so darn mean to poor Harry. And I loved how Rowling slowly developed him. I think, of all the characters in her world, that he was the best. 
2. Lily Bart from The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton: I love Lily so much that I named a kitten after her. There is something so weak and naive about Lily to start, but as you get to know her, she acquires such a sense of strength and purpose...and I just admire that in any female character.
3. Vardaman from As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner: I love Vardaman. And I love how he struggles to cope with the death of his mother throughout the book. I couldn't imagine being that young and losing your mother. He also has one of the best chapters I've ever read, "My mother is a fish." Read this.
4. Lucy Snowe from Villette by Charlotte Bronte: I see a lot of myself in Lucy Snowe, which is probably why I loved the book so much as I read it. She is shy and reserved, but knows when she must speak out. I loved her quiet nature, and the way she kept secrets from everyone, even the reader!
5. John Proctor from The Crucible by Arthur Miller: I just reread the play with my sophomore English classes, and once again, I was blown away by the power of Miller's play. I love John Proctor and his emotional outbursts-the way he chooses to passionately defend his honor and reputation. It gets me every time. (honorable mentions to Reverend Hale and Giles Corey)
6. Ender Wiggin from Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card: I am currently reading this one with my elective English class and while they are not as big of fans of Ender as I am, they still find him interesting. I always feel bad for poor Ender-born as a request of the government, forced to give up his childhood, and later called a monster. I love his development, the way he thinks, and who he chooses to become by the very end.
7. Telemachus from The Odyssey by Homer: While I like Odysseus just fine, I really like the story of Telemachus and his journey to becoming a man. There is something so honest and interesting about his interactions with Athena and the other kings as he struggles to determine who he is in his father's shadow.
8. Silas Marner from Silas Marner by George Eliot: I love the transformation Silas undergoes once he is responsible for someone other than himself. He is no longer allowed to be a cranky old hermit, obsessed with his money and isolation. Really, I just want to give him a big hug and tell him he's wonderful for taking in a little girl.
9. Moby Dick from Moby-Dick by Herman Melville: I spent a lot of time with that big white whale last fall, and I really came to like the whale as a character, even though you don't meet him for a long time. There is something to be said about a large whale driving a man to the brink of insanity that makes you have to respect that whale. And I do.
10. Isabel Archer from The Portrait of a Lady by Henry James: One of the best books I read in 2011, I just loved Isabel Archer. She was bright, vivacious, and a little bit saucy-just what I like in my heroines. But she was also vulnerable and naive, and her eventual decisions broke my heart. I don't think I'll ever forget her!

There you have it! Ten of my favorite literary characters of all time, and I didn't even get to mention Tom Sawyer, Hermoine Granger, Mr. Darcy, or any of the others I consider to be superb. Let me know who you picked!

Book 137: Characters-Dickens at His Best.

I've read a few Dickens novels, but never with more excitement than my current reading of David Copperfield. I think that my own reading maturity level is finally on par with what Mr. Dickens has to offer in his work. I think I have finally set aside my own prejudices from bad reading experiences to see that yeah, all those millions of people who have read Dickens and loved him might be right. Remind me to keep this in mind as I continue teaching because I am sure that this will be great to talk about with students.

Anyway, there is one thing that Dickens excels at and that is creating and developing characters. Even in my negative experiences, I appreciated the fact that Dickens creates the most amazing characters. That continues here in David Copperfield.

You have to admire the diversity in his characters...and it also has to wow you. For a novel that spans over 700 pages (in my edition), it continually astounds me that Dickens can show the growth in multiple characters as the novel progresses forward. Of course the novel is focused on David, being that he IS the title character and all, but I'm going to ignore him for this post and focus on the other characters.

From the beginning, Dickens maintains a large number of secondary characters that wander in and out of David's life. When he is young, that is limited to the Peggotty family, as well as Mr. and Miss Murdstone and his mother. For some reason, after his mother died and he ran away, I assumed I was done with the despicable Murdstones. Imagine my surprised when they BOTH popped up again at various points. I love this description of Miss Murdstone...

"A passing thought occurred to me that Miss Murdstone, like the pocket instrument called a life-preserver, was not so much designed for the purposes of protection as assault," (329).

Buahahaha. That part had me cracking up, and it wasn't because that line was particularly funny, but because Dickens had done such a lovely job of painting Miss Murdstone beforehand! And while I hadn't encountered her in nearly 200 pages, I was again reminded of her snarly face and her manipulative ways. That just made the line come alive for me-because I knew her and could see that description fitting. And even though I really hate both of the Murdstones, I find myself wondering when they will pop back up, simply to see what kind of description Dickens paints them with.

Another of my favorite characters is Mr. Peggotty. In the beginning, I saw him as kind of a goofy uncle...which is just what he is. I didn't take him too seriously because he seemed to happy in life and circumstance (something I think really shaped young David). But when his niece, Emily, runs away, I saw a completely different side to Mr. Peggotty. And I just love him. He is so focused on protecting his family and keeping them together. When he approaches the mother of the son who took her away, he speaks with such passion...

"Hark to this, ma'am," he returned, slowly and quietly. "You know what it is to love your child. So do I. If she was a hundred times my child, I couldn't love her more. You doen't know what it is to lose your child. I do. All the heaps of riches in the wuerld would be nowt to me (if they was mine) to buy her back!" (394).

I wanted to jump and shout "YEAH" right at her face. But I couldn't and didn't.

Here is why else I love him...

"I'm a going to seek her, fur and wide. If any hurt should come to me, remember that the last words I left for her was, 'My unchanged love is with my darling child, and I forgive her!'" (398).

*sigh* That is some level of devotion.

Dickens does such a masterful job with each character that I can't even begin to explain each of them. From Steerforth's sliminess, to Mr. Micawber's weird letters, to his aunt's fear of donkeys on her grass, each character jumps off the page and comes to life. And all of them are so different! Like I said, this is a massive book, and while hundreds of pages may elapse between when David encounters a character, I never mix them up or forget them. That is a high level of skill and one that I am coming to appreciate. By making all of his characters a character, I don't forget them. I love it.

I can't wait to see what happens to each of them as I finish. I have some guesses, but I have 300 pages to go. A lot can happen! :)

Book 137: Dickens is winning me over.

"Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show," (5). 

And so begins David Copperfield, my next foray into Dickens' writing. As I mentioned in my intro post, I haven't had the best experiences with reading his work (due to an extremely negative read of Great Expectations in high school), but I thought I would love this one.

Turns out, I am. There is something about his writing in this novel that has completely drawn me in. I don't know if it is because this is a more autobiographical piece that I admire the writing more, or if it is because I am working hard to appreciate the subtleties of his writing. Perhaps I am just developing a tolerance for his work. Or maybe, just maybe, it is because I am finally letting go of my negative impressions of Dickens and just letting the work speak for itself. Considering that the Victorians may be my favorite era, I should love Dickens! I am getting there.

It also might be that I find young David Copperfield to be a far more interesting and relate-able character than Pip (Great Expectations) or Oliver (Oliver Twist). From that first line I mentioned above, I care about him. I want young David to succeed and thrive in a world where the odds are against him.

David is born to Clara Copperfield, a young widow who seems quite naive and unsure of her own status in life. David's great-aunt, Betsy Trotwood, abandons them both the night of David's birth when she learns he is a boy. This means that David only has his mother and nurse Pegotty to raise him into a strong man. It is clear from this kind of beginning that David will struggle.

He seems to lead a very happy albeit sheltered life. He has close relationships to both women and seems to flourish under their care...until his mother is wooed by the nasty Mr. Murdstone.

This is where I felt my heart start to truly feel for David. His mother, young and blinded by her love for Mr. Murdstone, agrees to marry the jerk. Once married, Mr. Murdstone and his sister, Miss Murdstone, rule with an iron fist. They make the rules and decisions in the once happy household. They refuse to take clara's feelings and ideas into account and soon alienate poor David from his mother. Soon, David begins to feel neglected, cut off from his mother.

You have to sympathize with him, and this is truly the place where Dickens succeeds! By making Murdstone so despicable, David immediately becomes likable. I hate Mr. Murdstone right along with him! I also want to lash out and when David eventually snaps and bites Murdstone when provoked, all I could feel was a sense of justice.

Until David is sent away to Salem House, a school, after the incident. Away from home, David isn't there when his mother falls ill and eventually dies. Then he is at the mercy of those awful people. What a horrible kind of existence-to know that your future lies in the hands of two people who hate you!

So why did I sympathize so much with David and not with Pip or Oliver? Unlike the other 2 protagnonists, David feels real. He doesn't have the same whiny characteristics as Pip. And he isn't so achingly...Oliver. No, David seems to accept his lot in life. When things happen to him, he acts genuine and accepting. There aren't fake tears or complaints, but an acceptance that these things are meant to happen. He seems stronger than the other two, and while he may lack a little confidence, he continues to try to be better. That is why I love him so. And that is certainly the mark of a great writer-to make me care about a fictional little boy.

I know that Dickens is known for his characters, but this novel far outshines the others that I've read. Beyond David, there are countless others worth mentioning, but I want to read more before I say anyting about them. I am curious to see where David goes from this point in life-orphaned and in the care of despicable people. I wonder whether he'll succeed as I want him to. And I suppose I'll find out soon enough.

"The mother who lay in the grave was the mother of my infancy; the little creature in her arms was myself, as I had once been, hushed forever on her bosom," (115).

Book 90: The Character of Silas Marner.

I really love the character of Silas Marner. There is something about his transformation from the beginning of the novel until the end that I truly love.

At the beginning of the novel, Eliot begins to describe how Silas came to live in Raveloe. In his hometown, he was accused of a theft and escaped, becoming a recluse from society. He refuses to befriend people in the the new village, and instead spends all his time in his cottage weaving. It is all he has. I love this passage about his loneliness in particular,

"He seemed to weave, like the spider, from pure impulse, without reflection. Every man's work, pursued steadily, tends in this way to become an end in itself, and so to bridge over the loveless chasms of his life. Silas's hand satisfied itself with throwing the shuttle, and his eye with seeing the little squares in the cloth complete themselves under his effort. Then there were the calls of hunger; and Silas, in his solitude, had to provide his own breakfast, dinner, and supper to fetch his own water from the well, and put his own kettle on the fire; and all these immediate promptings helped, along with the weaving, to reduce his life to the unquestioning activity of a spinning insect. He hated the thought of the past; there was nothing that out his love and fellowship toward the strangers he had come amongst; and the future was all dark, for there was no Unseen Love that cared for him," (14).

He is such a lonely old man that I really just want to reach in an give him a hug. Hurt by people he considered friends, he has no choice but to retreat into himself to protect himself from hurt. I can't say that I really blame him. If your best friend framed you, took your girl, wouldn't you feel like you had no one to turn to? I can't blame Silas for escaping and hiding, protecting himself from ever making that kind of connection again.

What I think adds to the strength of Silas' character is how the others in the village view him. He is the center of the town's gossip for a bit, with the townspeople wondering how he came to Raveloe, and why he chooses to remain so silent and removed.

Then Silas begins to hoard his gold. As a weaver, he makes little money from what he makes and sells as he stashes away whatever he can. He collects it, counts it, and it soon becomes his obsession.

One of my close friends who has read this always says that it doesn't make sense for Silas to become a money hoarding fiend. I think it makes perfect sense. For a man who has nothing but his work, doesn't it fit that he would become obsessed with the product of what he makes? He has no one else to speak to, no one else to rely on, so his money becomes his life and his ultimate downfall (but I'm not there yet).

In any case, I am spending more time on this reread soaking in his character, taking in Eliot's little nuances. While Middlemarch seems to overshadow this slim little volume, I think I much prefer this.

What do you think of Silas if you've read this one? love him? hate him? Do you think that someone who is completely alone would justifiably turn to the one thing they can control (in this case, money)? I'm interested to see what you all think. :)

Book 69: First Impressions.

I forced myself to stop reading this novel long enough to write about my first impressions. If I hadn't stopped, I knew I would forget to mention how wonderful this novel is at a first glance.

I already know that I am in love with Maugham's writing. I cannot even begin to explain how beautiful it is. Every word, every sentence creates such glorious imagery and emotion that I want to cherish every page I turn. It is simply wonderful.

Before even beginning the novel, I made sure to read the preface. There I found this little passage I want to share with you,

"I think this is the only novel I have written in which I started from a story rather than from a character. It is difficult to explain the relation between character and plot. You cannot very well think of a character in the void; the moment you think of him, you think of him in some situation, doing something; so that the character and at least his principal action seem to be the result of a simultaneous act of the imagination. But in this case the characters were chosen to fit the story I gradually evolved; they were constructed from persons I had long known in different circumstances," (5-6).

Since I write a little on my own, I love to see how these authors craft their stories. I think that is one questions that all writers are asked: Where do you get your ideas? And I don't think there ever is a full answer to that question. Sometimes stories just happen, other times they are forced, and there are more times when a person pops into your head and says, tell my story.

But I think that in this case, it means a lot that the story came first, because this is a powerful kind of story, and one that is so incredibly moving. It opens on a scene with Kitty Fane and her lover, hiding in a room as the doorknob is twisted and turned in attempts to open it. When the moment passes, Kitty is certain that it was her husband checking on her. Her lover thinks she is overreacting and soon leaves.

The problems and history begin there. When Kitty was a little younger, she always had men around her, courting and loving her. She was never in a hurry to marry, but when her younger sister fell in love and landed quite a catch, Kitty felt the urge to marry as well (and before her sister). That is when she settles for Walter Fane, a man who is very much in love with her, but not a perfect match. Where Kitty is flighty and social, Walter is much more serious and intellectual.

They move away to Hong Kong for Walter's work, and that is when the affair starts. So determined not to see any of the good in Walter, Kitty find little faults that bother her. She dwells on them and soon falls for Charles Townsend, a higher up in the colonial government.

It is the fact of Kitty's swelling on Walter's inevitable faults that has really impacted me. My mother always told me growing up when I was dating, and as things got serious with Matt, that you cannot change a person to be who you want them to be. Their little faults and habits will always be there. You must learn to accept them or move on. This passage (long) really captures that. Here Walter is confronting Kitty,

"'I had no illusions about you,' he said. 'I knew you were silly and frivolous and empty-headed. But I loved you. I knew that your aims and ideals were vulgar and commonplace. But I loved you. I knew that you were second-rate. But I loved you. It's comic when I think how hard I tried to be amused by the things that amused you and how anxious I was to hide from you that I wasn't ignorant and vulgar and scandal-mongering and stupid. I knew how frightened you were of intelligence and I did everything I could to make you think me as big a fool as the rest of the men you know. I knew that you'd only married me for convenience. I love you so much, I didn't care. Most people, as far as I can see, when they're in love with someone and the love isn't returned feel that they have a grievance. They grow angry and bitter. I wasn't like that. I never expected you to love me, I didn't see any reason that you should, I never thought myself very lovable. I was thankful to be allowed to love you and I was enraptured when not and then I thought you were pleased with me or when I noticed in your eyes a gleam of good-humored affection. I tried not to bore you with my love; I knew I couldn't afford to of that and I was always on the lookout for the first sign that you were impatient with my affection. What most husbands expect as a right I was prepared to receive as a favor," (66).

This passage just got me when I was reading and I had to stop and breathe before moving on. I don't know how Walter could be with a woman who clearly doesn't love him, but still love her as much as he does. I could never be in a relationship like that, and I am so glad that my own marriage is filled with a lot of love and communication. But you have to respect Walter for trying as hard as he can to accept Kitty, with her faults, and sacrificing pieces of himself to make it work.

Because isn't that what you do for someone you love? You sacrifice things for their happiness to make it come first? I think so. And Walter knows that. But Kitty is so young and selfish that she doesn't know that.

So when a few pages later her own heart is broken by the equally selfish Charles Townsend, I don't feel for her. I don't even feel for her when Walter packs her things and takes her into the heart of the cholera epidemic in China. Perhaps now she will realize that you cannot be selfish in a relationship or is doomed from the beginning. Of course I don't know what will happen, but I have an idea.

And with that, I need to go finish.

Book 68: Finished.

There is something about reading Jane Austen novels that makes my heart so incredibly happy and full. She never fails to cheer me up with her wit and depth.

I can only wish that there was more to read by her than the six full novels she left behind (I do still have all the smaller and unfinished pieces left to go).

I think the hardest thing about completing an Austen novel is trying to figure out where you place it in line with your other favorite Austen novels. I mean, after all, they are all excellent in their own way. And after I read one, I just cherish it so much more than "those others" I haven't read as recently.

Anyway, on to Emma. The first time I read it, I really didn't see the love connection between Emma and Mr. Knightley. Perhaps it is because I have learned to concentrate a little more on details and underlying themes (you know, that English degree and all). Now, on my third reread, I got it and I am blaming it on the fact that I am a little more experienced in the ways of love nowadays after having to live with a boy and pick up after his messes (really, they should tell you that before you say "I do").

In any case, this time around I still loved Emma just as much as that first time. Again, I was reminded about how love grows and changes, as does our perception of what love is. I can remember being in 7th grade and being "in love" with this boy who absolutely no idea who I was. But I was convinced we were going to get married and live happily ever after. *sigh* We all know that it doesn't work that way, and to be honest, while I remember feeling this way about that boy, I don't remember his name. True love, you know?

But in Emma, Emma Woodhouse does seem to know what love is. She cherishes the solid examples she sees in her own life, but doesn't want it for herself. It is only once she understands what that kind of love does for the people around her that she seems to get it and want it. It makes me a little sad that she waited so long to cave in.

But Emma is about more than that. It is also about overcoming your preferences and beliefs about things you believe you know all about. Emma certainly changes her tune after the debacle with Mr. Elton. She figures out what she did wrong and seems to learn from it. She also gets stung with the whole situation surrounding Frank.

So when she finally realizes just how she feels about Mr. Knightley, she comes to term with her own definition of love and what she really needs.

This is definitely one of my favorite Austen novels, but since I love them all, I have to place this one third (behind Persuasion and Pride and Prejudice). I think one of the reasons I do love this lies in the character traits of Miss Bates. I adore Miss Bates and her silly attitude. She cracked me up every time she shows up in the novel. In terms of secondary Austen characters, she comes in a very close second behind Mr. Collins (because really, he's hilarious).

If you haven't given Emma a try recently, I urge you to. Read deeper than the silly high school nature of Emma Woodhouse and you'll find a far deeper novel. I know I did.

Book 45: Miss O'Hara.

When I was reading Wuthering Heights back in March, I complained about how I hated every character in the book. But, when I finished it, I still loved the book. And while that may not be the case here, I really don't find much to admire in Miss Scarlett O'Hara.

I don't think I have ever read a book with such a selfish, vain, spoiled protagonist. Scarlett annoys me with her naivety and selfishness. She wants what she wants and will stop at nothing until she gets it. When she sees a boy she wants, she goes full throttle until the poor thing is trembling next to her in hopes she will bat her eyes at him.

She treats her family and those close to her as if they are disposable. She never takes responsibility for her actions and she is simply infuriating. Also, she can be conniving and manipulative to get what she wants and it usually successful. Don't forget that she steals husbands and beaux as if they were going out of style. Yes, there is not a lot to like about Scarlett. She is everything I hope I am not.

But there is something that draws me in to her. Even though she is all of the above things, and many more, I still like and appreciate her spunk. When her family begins to fall apart, she pulls them together. Granted, she's a little rough about it, but she takes care of them the best way she knows how. When the Yankee soldier enters her house and begins to rob them of the few possessions she has left, she takes care of it in the way she has to.

Scarlett has a lot of spunk, desire, and sass, all of which I can appreciate. But I don't have to like her.

Which is why I am glad that there are so many likable characters in this novel. They stand beside Scarlett and showcase her few good qualities (that sass and spunk I was talking about). And they also show the reader someone to root for who is deserving of good things. Above all, I am talking about Melanie who is a staunch Scarlett supporter. No matter what Scarlett does to the poor girl, Melanie sticks beside her and supports her, even when rumors are flying.

It is because of this that the reader can stomach Scarlett. While she is certainly not a nice person, she tries because she wants more. She wants things to be easy for her and those around her. She had to make choices that were difficult, but her family ultimately owes their life to her. Without Scarlett, all of the other characters would have died (except Rhett, but he is deserving of his own post, that's for sure). Scarlett is their center and their pillar of strength, bad person or not.

I am hoping, as I finish this up, that Scarlett will surprise me and make a turn for the better, but I am not holding my breath. I have a feeling I will know how this will end and it will probably end the way it should.

Book 44: It is all about the Characters.

I know I have said this numerous times before, but the characters are what make a story for me. Without well-developed, realistic characters, I don't connect with the book. And while I may still enjoy it, I will never love it.

As I Lay Dying is a perfect example of a great character-driven book. Each chapter or vignette is told from the point of view of one of the family members of Addie Bundren. From their perspective, we watch Addie die, and then the family's journey to put her to rest. In each character we find something that is driving them in their grief.

The only daughter in the novel, Dewey Dell, is harboring a dark secret. Now that her mother is dying (and well...dead as the book moves on), she has to confront the darkest of demons as the only female in the family. She has no one to turn to, no one to ask for help.

For Jewel, his pride and anger get in the way of realizing what is happening. He lashes out at the other characters and tries to wound them so he doesn't have to feel anything.

Cash is too busy making the coffin to care about anything else. His only concern is to make it perfect for his mother, to honor her by building her the best coffin he can before her dying eyes. He saws day and night to complete it for her, not caring for rain or the thoughts of the other family members.

The neighbors are upset that Anse, Addie's husband, hadn't called for help long before, and they continue to gossip about the family as they mourn and try to fulfill Addie's wishes.

For the youngest, Vardaman, it is the inability to understand what is happening to his mother. Vardaman has one of the most recognizable chapters from the entire book:

"My mother is a fish," (84).

At first, that simple line seems silly. Why is that line an entire chapter's worth of thought from one little boy? But if you really think about it, that one line says so much about Vardaman, and how he views death compared to the rest of the family. For me, it sums up much of how we feel about death. Vardaman has only seen death in the day to day actions of his life on the farm. He hunts and kills farm animals for food, and catches fish. He has seen death in those animals-the wide-eyed look of nothing. That is the only way he can comprehend how he must see his mother, dead like the fish he brings home. For him, that is all he knows of grief and dying and that is how he copes.

It might seem weird, that this book full of eclectic characters is a favorite of mine, even with all of its morbid and disturbing thoughts. But in a way, I am like all of them when it comes to grief. I am afraid, proud, scared, and unsure of what the next steps are. And even though things get rough for the Bundrens, they survive, each on their own with their own kind of grief. It is a powerful story and one that I cherish as I read through it. Each of these characters must heal in their own way, and learn to survive in a world without Addie.

It is a story that could only be told one way, and I am glad Faulkner is doing it right.

Book 42: Characters v. Plot.

I am new to Thomas Hardy, but one thing I have learned from researching him and his work, is that Hardy was very experimental in his writing. He completed a whole collection of novels to explore different aspects of novels. A large number of them focused more on the development of his characters and exploring human nature.

There are generally two main directions a novel is developed: focused on characters, or focused on plot. These appeal to a large amount of people and usually readers are really drawn to one or the other (I'm not saying that you would never read or enjoy the other, but we usually have a preference).

Personally, I would much rather read a story with highly developed characters. I like character development and I think it is one of the hardest things for writers to accomplish. Creating a three-dimensional, likable, appealing character is no easy feat. There are certain challenges to making a character realistic, and to truly capture all aspects of human emotion and motive.

So I am starting to like Hardy's style in The Mayor of Casterbridge. I feel like Hardy is exploring all different angles of human nature within all of his main characters. Their motives are explained and their lives are the story. It is not based on plot, but on the actions each character takes. Personally, I find this more realistic. I find that our lives are dictated by the choices we make, not by what happens around us. Circumstances do not change us, our actions and responses do.

Thus, I love what Hardy is trying to accomplish. His main character, the mayor Henchard, has made some horrible decisions to change the course of his life. In the first few pages, the reader watches as Henchard, his wife, and daughter stop in for food and drink in a rough tavern. There, Henchard gets carried away with his drinking and eventually becomes drunk. As he drinks more and more, Henchard rants about the uselessness and burden of his wife. In his drunken state, he auctions off his wife and daughter to the highest bidder. A seaman buys the two women and when Henchard wakes the next morning, he realizes what he has done.

He makes a vow not to drink for twenty years before moving south and starting over, in Casterbridge.

He makes a new life for himself and rises to prosperity. He is eventually elected mayor and seems to have everything going for him. Of course, his wife and daughter return to find him and Henchard has to come to terms with the decisions he made. The perfect life he built for himself begins to unravel.

It is an interesting premise and I am curious to see where Hardy's characters take themselves. I am curious to see how their actions shape the story around them and change the course of their lives.

I guess I shall see.

Book 29: Details and Grace,

I forgot how good Margaret Atwood is at developing her characters and plotline. She manages to not only deliver a moving and touching story, but does so with every intention of creating characters that are memorable.

I suppose you aren't supposed to genuinely like Grace Marks. As a historical figure, she was a convicted murderess. At the time, she was written about as a conniving woman who was well-aware of what she was doing when she partnered up with McDermott to murder her master and the housekeeper.

However, Atwood slowly draws the reader in to Grace's story. Through the guise of a doctor studying Grace's history, Atwood allows us to get to know Grace from the moment she can first remember, all the way to the day of the murder and beyond. In Grace's words, we learn about her life.

Atwood does it slowly. We learn about her childhood in Ireland and the plight of her family. We learn that her father was an alcoholic and her mother sickly. We join them on the boat as they come over to Canada, and the tragedy that seems to follow them everywhere. We watch as Grace is attacked by those around her who are pretending to help her. She tells us how she earns a place in a good home as a servant and befriends a girl named Mary Whitney. We then learn about Whitney's demise and how Grace ended up at Kinnear's farm, where 2 weeks later she committed murder with McDermott at the age of 16.

Atwood takes us slowly so that we can understand Grace, and love her and she loves herself. The doctor who is studying her in the novel, Dr. Simon Jordan, also falls in love with her and forgets that he is supposed to remain apart from Grace's narrative. It reminds us, the readers, that we too need to step away.

While I know that much of this is fictionalized, I cannot help but feel for Grace as a person. Whether or not she actually committed the murders is still a question that will remain without an answer. And while Atwood is trying to give us the details of the story, you cannot help but wonder-did she really do it?

I think Grace seems to say it best in the novel, so I will leave it to Atwood:

"When you are in the middle of a story it isn't a story at all, but only a confusion; a dark roaring, a blindness, a wreckage of shattered glass and splintered wood; like a house in a whirlwind, or else a boat crushed by the icebergs or swept over the rapids, and all aboard powerless to stop it. It's only afterwards that it becomes anything like a story at all. When you are telling it, to yourself or someone else," (298).

Book 28: Characters.

I just feel like I should say this outright.

I really hate every character in Wuthering Heights.

There, I said it.

They are all whiny, selfish, self-absorbed, idiotic, uneducated, power-hungry, over-dramatic morons.

*sigh*

It feels good to get that out.

Now, with all of that being said, I love the novel.

Perhaps that is a contradiction, but it's true. While the characters make me cringe, I am sucked into the drama and passion that is Wuthering Heights.

I don't mean to harp on the Twilight references (after all, I got out some anger in yesterday's post), but I can't help but comparing the two. Perhaps Meyer really did base her characters on these selfish people. Heathcliff is so like Edward. He is controlling, violent, and overbearing. Catherine is the essence of all of Bella Swann's horrible characteristics. She is selfish and asks for pain and heartache.

It is almost as if Meyer loved these characters and just modernized them for the benefit of today's readership. Because, like the characters in Wuthering Heights, all of the characters in Twilight are cringeworthy.

Okay, no more Twilight from now on.

Anyway, I cannot stand any of the characters. The narrator is a whiny little man who seems a little too obsessed with the history of the place called Wuthering Heights. In all honesty, he has no business inquiring after any of the inhabitants or commenting on them. When he is fully in a scene, I find him annoying and whiny. He complains too much.

I also cannot stand the housekeeper-Nelly. Since most of the novel is from her point of view (she is relating the history of Wuthering Heights to the MC), we get to hear a lot from her. What irks me is that she knows better, but she still constantly plays into Heathcliff's traps and does what is worse in every situation. It is mind-boggling and aggravating.

The two main love interests in the first volume are also incredibly irritating. Heathcliff is overbearing and power-hungry. He is a violent character, moody, and downright mean. I can find nothing good in him.

And Catherine is a selfish woman who only cares about her own happiness.

Even with all of this being said, I still LIKE the book. I don't know why, but I am drawn to these horrible people and their poor messed up lives. I don't see the love in this story, but I am waiting to be surprised. I am waiting to see if Bronte can make these people into something meaningful and less disgusting. But even while I wait, I still like the book. I like how even though there is nothing to love, I want to know more.

I suppose that is the draw of this novel, and why when it first came out, critics were skeptic of the writing style. Books this dark didn't draw audiences back then like they might now.

So yes, I am curious to see where it goes.

Has there ever been a book where you hated the characters but still loved the story?

Book 24: First Impressions.

Well.

I'm not sure what to think.

I am currently about 50 pages into The Shipping News and I am not really sure what I am thinking.

I was expecting some great things, considering this is a rather new novel (1993) and is already being considered a "classic" on some lists, so why do I feel like I have nothing to say?

Sure, the book is interesting, but I am still waiting to be bowled over with an amazing story.

So far, I have gotten this: Quoyle is a large man who not really bright. He falls in love with a loose woman and has two kids with her. She hates her kids and often abandons them. He works for a newspaper, even though he has no knowledge of writing.

That's about it. And I am feeling like I am missing something. Perhaps I am not far enough into the book to be grabbed yet by the story. I am enjoying the writing. Obviously, I know that a main part of the novel is the fact that Quoyle works for a newspaper. Some of the writing seems written in that short, choppy style that I associate with news articles. So that, in and of itself, is interesting.

I also like the characters...except Quoyle. To me, it seems as if Quoyle is just going through the motions of life and I am finding it hard to like him. I do like his crazy aunt and his daughters, and some of the other minor characters, but I hope he grows on me, because right now I think he's an idiot.

The structure of the novel is also different. Each chapter is titled with a type of nautical knot and a short excerpt from a book of knots always follows. The chapter is always related to the knot and the description, which really adds a lot of depth.

Anyway, I am going to keep plowing through in hopes that Quoyle begins to amaze me.

Book 22: Ruin and Relationships.

One of the reasons I love Eliot's writing is the way she crafts her characters and their relationships. In every novel I have read by her (which includes all except this and Daniel Deronda), she creates such spectacularly realistic people.

The Mill on the Floss is no exception. While I think that the beginning 100 pages dragged for lack of action, the characters brought it to life. While I of course love and adore Maggie, the main female character, I think I might love the crazy assortment of aunts a little more.

Mrs. Tulliver, Maggie's mother, is one of four sisters. Each of them is married and boy, do they have opinions about everything. Near the beginning of the novel, the family is called to discuss Tom's education (Maggie's sister). Each of the aunts arrives, with her husband, and conversations that ensue are pretty humorous. There is a lot of, "Well, I wouldn't do that," and "I always said that..."

It makes for enjoyable reading.

I also really like the development of the relationship between Maggie and Tom. While sister and brother, they also seem to be friends, which must be tough for Tom. Even when Tom goes away to school (at a clergyman's house), he still tries to maintain that relationship with his sister. She comes to visit and he tries to impress her with his learning.

One fun scene is when he is explaining how tough his lessons are in Latin. Maggie takes up the book and shows him up.

Score one for the little sister.

I know, even now when I haven't reached the halfway point, that disaster will inevitable strike. Maggie and Tom won't always be friends. I know that life and circumstance will get in their way.

The last character I really want to talk about is Philip Wakem. A student beside Tom, Philip is a hunchback and his father is an enemy to Mr. Tulliver. For a boy who was probably made fun of all his life, and who has no expectations, Philip is remarkably nice to both Maggie and Tom. While he might be more wary with Tom, you can tell that Philip and Maggie have a remarkable budding friendship.

And I guarantee there will be feelings on both sides before the novel is through.

Anyway, I seem to be flying through this hefty book. Time for more reading!

Book 21: Villains and Unpretty Girls.

I'm chugging through Washington Square and there are a lot of things to comment on. Based on the description, I really thought I was getting into a fluffy little classic (similar to A Room with a View), but I am finding that to be false.

Instead of a conventional "classic" love story, the novel near opens with an engagement (it is only a few pages in) as opposed to the end of the novel (usually the engagement and eventual marriage signals resolution). This is not so in Washington Square. Here, you have less of a love story, but more of a, "let's see how miserable we can make poor Catherine."

From the beginning, it is made clear that Catherine is two things: wealthy, and slightly unattractive. During this era (1830s and up), it was generally the pretty girls who found men quicker. They were allowed to fall in love and be picky about the man they decided to marry. It was not so for plainer girls. Instead, they would be lucky to find one lover and must accept him at all costs.

So when Catherine meets Morris Townsend, you would believe that her father would be excited. Since Catherine has no mother and was partially raised by her aunt (who is a trip, believe me), the reader would assume that Dr. Sloper would want the best for his little girl. Well, he does push for the best and outright rejects Morris Townsend. Based on some sleuthing and a visit to Townsend's sister, Dr. Sloper deems him unsuitable for his daughter and tells her he will not allow it. Dr. Sloper believs that Townsend is only after Catherine's inheritance and does not actually love her.

What is a girl to do? For a girl like Catherine, who is repeatedly explained as being plain, but wealthy, how can she refuse what might be the only offer of marriage she may get?

This is the dilemma and where I stopped reading, but I want to talk about two things. First, the idea of a "villain." You would think and assume that Townsend is the villain. He is a conniving man and the few glimpses we get of his thoughts turned my stomach. He is only after the wealth that Catherine has and while he might be somewhat affectionate towards her, you have to question his motives, much like her father does. After all, he has no money of his own and is living with his sister (who is widowed with a pack of kids) and "mooching."

But he really isn't the worst villain. That award goes to Dr. Sloper. While he might be thinking he has Catherine's best interests at heart, he goes about it in a completely demoralizing way. From the very beginning he is down on his daughter:

"Once, when the girl was about twelve years old, he had said to her [his sister]:
'Try and make a clever woman of her, Lavinia; I should like her to be a clever woman.'
Mrs. Penniman, at this, looked thoughtful a moment. 'My dear Austin,' she then inquired, 'do you think it is better to be clever than to be good?'
'Good for what?' asked the doctor. 'You are good for nothing unless you are clever,'" (10).

You can see by this that Dr. Sloper does not see and appreciate his daughter for what she is. She never "becomes" clever, but she does try to do good by her father and uphold his wishes. You can't fault her for trying, but merely feel for a girl who is continually degraded and put down by her father.

What I am trying to say is this. While the real Washington Square represented a place of wealth and happiness and success, that was not always the case once you moved into the homes of the people who dwelt there. And while Washington Square might seem like a pleasant novel full of love and grand romance and gestures, it is the complete opposite; instead it shows the darker side of courtship and unapproving fathers; and men who are not what they pretend to be.

Book 18: Accents, Dialect and Dialogue.

Sometimes when a writer uses a certain dialect or accent in their writing, it can make things really difficult for the reader. It gets even worse when the writer doesn't do it well. Rather than adding to the story, it distracts the reader and makes it too difficult to read. The reader spends more time deciphering the author's words than absorbing the story. Sometimes, the reader simply abandons the book.

Or, there are the writers who create a huge world and then the characters talk and ??? Nothing. The writer forgoes the idea that these people need to fit the world they created. It takes away from the impact of the story if the characters don't fit.

However, if it is done well, then it adds to the story. The reader is actually a large part of the story, as the characters' voices work their way into the reading experience. It makes the story feel more authentic and realistic.

Those are the kinds of reading experiences that I enjoy, especially when it is crafted to beautifully that I get sucked in from the very beginning.

I do struggle at first when a writer uses distinct and different accents and dialects from what I am used to. I have to pay attention a little more at the beginning until it sinks in, then it becomes second nature to make the switch in my head so I can see a new word and understand the sound. For example, when I read the Outlander books back in the Spring of 2009, I struggled at first with the Scottish accent the main characters had. Obviously as a girl from Michigan I don't speak that way, so it was an adjustment. However, by the time I finished the sixth book, I was an old pro.

In Arnow's The Dollmaker, it is the same process. The first few pages were an adjustment period and as I am chugging along, the Kentucky twang is getting stuck in my head, as it should. Arnow was from Kentucky, so she has it down to a science.

Here is an example of dialogue from the book;

"But jist between you an me-an I mean no harm-when he was home he warn't worth a continental to you in th crop maken. His coal haulen wasn't regular, an his tinkeren didn't bring in much. He loved it too well-he'd tear down some feller's old car an set it up agin and mebbe never git paid," (111).

There are some definite distinctions here between the writing style of my post and that quote. And when you have a lot of characters all speaking with a similar accent, sometimes you can get lost in deciphering.

When I was student teaching, we were reading a novel similar to this--one with a very strong accent in the writing. My students had a real hard time learning what appeared to be new words, so I had them create bookmarks out of strips of paper with the words and their meanings. This helped many of them make those connections in the story and understand the novel much better than they were.

Another favorite aspect of this dialect in the novel is what happens when Gertie's family moves north to Detroit and they have neighbors from different regions of the country. You then have a huge blending of dialects, accents, and slang melding together. Jumping back and forth is difficult, but fun to read. It keeps me entertained and I love the distinction.

"Max pondered an instant, her gum still, then nodded. 'Yu said it, sister. Damned if I'm gonna let anybody make me wanta be nothen but another piece a Hamtramck.'

'But you're very much afraid you'll start wanting to please, that's why you hate. You'll have to learn at least to cover it all up, so that they won't know and be, well, shall we say, tempted?'

'But how inu hell do yu cover up somethen that's burnen a hole inyu?'" (232).

Here Arnow is showing further distinction from what the characters in the novel see as educated and non-educated. The second speaker is a woman from a wealthy area north of Detroit, sent to the projects where the rest of the characters live to spread the Gospel. The other speaker is a young woman who lives in the projects and works as a waitress to help ends meet. You can see the difference Arnow is making between the two characters.

This way of writing the speech so accurately and making distinctions between the characters from different regions is making me fall deeply in love with the novel. It truly is excellent.

Anyway, enough of my lecturing for today and on with the reading!

Book 9: Characterization.

Reading McTeague is an extremely different experience for me. This novel is unlike many of the other “classics” I have read. It is dark and seedy and disturbing on many levels, but of course, I really enjoy those parts of the novel.

In particular, the characters are what drive this feeling. All of the characters are well-developed and written so that they become the worst representations of human character you have ever met…er…read about.

The dentist, otherwise known as McTeague, is one of the most brutal characters I have read about. He’s described as being 6’4”, blonde hair, and huge fingers (large enough to pull out teeth with his bare hands). He also appears to be slow and a little dimwitted, but he surprises you the further you read. Instead of being a big friendly giant, he turns into a bitter old monster.

Trina is something else entirely. When you first meet her, you almost love her. She’s young and beautiful. Then she wins $5,000 in the lottery and she turns into a miserable old miser who hoards money and insists on living far below their status level, to the point where it eventually drives McTeague to madness and then away.

The only characters that you can truly love for being honest are Old Grannis and Miss Baker, two old tenants who seem to love each other, even though they never speak.

I also have some fondness for Maria and Zerkow. Both of them are so insane and obsessed with objects that they eventually get married because of their insanity.

My absolute favorite, however, is Trina’s family. Norris paints them so beautifully that I loved any chapter with them in it, especially when they were talking. Some writers merely mention an accent when they are writing dialogue, and write the dialogue in standard English. However, Norris really plays up to their accent and writes their lines so you can these characters talking. For example, even though the boy’s name is August, he is referred to as Owgooste. Hearing the difference when you say it aloud makes the characters come alive. I love that.

I seem to find in my reading that authors are usually really strong in one area. It might be their plot line, their world building, their dialogue, their flowery descriptions, or their characters. I tend to find myself drawn to authors who know how to build and create characters that live with you, either because they’re approachable, or in this case absolutely insane.

I haven’t read any of Frank Norris’ other work, but I think after this I am going to need to try.

Book 4: Male Characters.

Mr. Darcy is one of the most romantic male characters I’ve ever come across in my reading. Not only does he love Elizabeth throughout the course of the novel, he makes sacrifices to show her his love in unexpected ways. While I am not at the end of the novel, I am seeing how Darcy comes to love the woman who only sees his “pride and prejudice” towards others.

In the early scenes with Darcy, the dialogue seems to overshadow the side comments Austen makes about his observations. Since it has been a bit since I have read the novel, I forgot about the narrated sections recalling Darcy’s looks and assessment of Elizabeth as he encounters her in different situations and places. I almost wish that I didn’t love the movie so much and have watched it so many times. The movie focuses more on their verbal sparring and you lose the emotional impact of Austen’s words as Darcy continues to encounter Elizabeth and strengthen his feelings for her.

I say all this after stopping my reading earlier today in the chapter before he makes his proposal and she rejects him. That scene is one of my favorites because it’s where the reader first sees that Elizabeth is just as proud and prejudiced as Darcy, and she is even more vocal about how she feels. It is also the scene where your heart just starts to melt. Here is a man who loves this woman, but he really doesn’t know how to show it. That is when his romantic nature begins to emerge, as he attempts another go at winning her heart.

On the other hand, you have the incredibly awkward and humorous Mr. Collins. I love his quirky nature and lack of manners—especially in the moment at Bingley’s ball when he takes it upon himself to introduce himself to Mr. Darcy. Or in his proposal to Elizabeth where he mechanically lists the reasons why he wants to marry. Had Matt decided to propose to me in the same way I probably would have laughed in his face, much like Elizabeth did to Mr. Collins (I assure you, Matt proposed in a wonderfully romantic way and there were only slight nervous giggles). Contrasted with Mr. Darcy, Mr. Collins just seems like an incredibly awkward horrible man.

Even with that being said, I still like his character. Austen did a remarkable job creating male characters that while different, are still incredibly likable. Even Mr. Bingley is a well-developed and well-rounded character who is purely male and distinctly different from Mr. Collins, Darcy, and Elizabeth’s father.

I thought I would share some of my favorite lines thus far from the male characters in the novel. Enjoy them as much as I did.

Mr. Bennet (Elizabeth’s father)

“’You mistake me my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these twenty years at least,” (7).

“’An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you again if you do,’” (111).

Mr. Collins

“’My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances (like myself) to set the example of matrimony in his parish; secondly, that I am convinced it will add very greatly to my happiness; and thirdly—which perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier, that it is the particular advice and recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honour of calling patroness,” (105).

Mr. Darcy

“’I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon as I ought, nor their offences against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost forever,” (58).

“’In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,’” (188).

Book 3: Mrs. Honeychurch.

I absolutely love the character interactions in A Room with a View. As I am nearing the end, I am finding even more things about these characters to love. The mother, Mrs. Honeychurch, just makes me laugh.

In the first scene that the reader meets her, she is writing a letter and part of the conversation goes as such;

“Where was I? Oh yes—‘Young people must decide for themselves. I know that Lucy likes your son, because she tells me everything, and she wrote to me from Rome when he asked her first.’ No, I’ll cross that last bit out—it looks patronizing. I’ll stop at ‘because she tells me everything.’ Or shall I cross that out, too?” (87)

I just find her commentary amusing.

I also love this gem…

“’She was a novelist,’ said Lucy craftily. The remark was a happy one, for nothing roused Mrs. Honeychurch so much as literature in the hands of females. She would abandon every topic to inveigh against those women who (instead of minding their houses and their children) seek notoriety by print,” (140).

*snicker*

I can laugh at it now, even though I know that there are still many, MANY people who feel that way—that a woman’s place is in the home and their success is measured by having children and making sure their husband comes home to a clean house.

I believe a main reason I find this more amusing than anything, is that the male characters feel the same way. Cecil, one of Lucy’s suitors, is very clear about his opinions—to the point that he openly mocks Lucy’s mother (which I also find amusing). I’m just glad that the males in my own life don’t have those kinds of opinions, and neither does my mother.

If anyone ever tells me that I can’t have literature in my hands because I am a female…they just better think twice.



On another note, it looks like I am going to finish this in the very near future. Any suggestions for my next book?