Molly Keane - Full House

I stumbled upon this book in a second-hand bookstore, and fell in love with the cover. It's also my first green Virago Modern Classic, and I was quite excited to begin this journey... luckily, it didn't disappoint, which is nice, as my last two reads haven't been exceptionally good, by any standards. Set in the backdrop post the Great War, Full House introduces us to one of the most frightening mothers in literature, Lady Bird, and her family which is undergoing all kinds of transformations. John, the oldest child was on the brink of insanity, and was sent to a hospital. He is now returning home, much to the delight of the entire family, and Eliza - a friend to both, Lady Olivia Bird and Sir Julian Bird - has come to their magnificent home, Silverue, to share this momentous occasion with them.

However, while the early pages of the book deals with John's return, the story quickly develops into an account of the Bird children, their governess - Miss Parker, as well as the adults: Eliza, Julian and Olivia.

There's Mark, the cruel albeit adorable child, who is the apple of everyone's eyes, and everyone is completely captivated by his beauty, so much so that no one wants him to grow up. There's his older sister, Sheena, who is in love with a boy, but their engagement has been delayed due to their age. John, of course, is the oldest of the three, and his return home is the catalyst for the rest of the story, which includes posh tedious tennis parties, a garden tour for fundraising which exhausts everyone as Olivia pushes them to do her bidding, broken hearts, new loves, and changed lives. Questions are asked about total honesty, about doing what's right, and about loyalty. More questions are raised about true love, happiness, and friendship.

And of course... there's Lady Bird. A funny name, if there was one, but a formidable character, nonetheless. Cruel, girlish, and more focused on being an "older sister" to her children, than acting as their mother, Lady Bird is accustomed to getting her own way, and Julian indulges her. Her children don't have the nicest things to say about her, and despite threatening to leave, they never really intend to. Yet, she never registers her children's true opinion of her, as she focuses on looking "oppressively young", creating fantastic flower decorations, and contemplating a Swiss governess for her youngest son.

The inconsequence and the obviousness of all her posturings and nonsense. How could she blind herself to the fact that they could not deceive her reasonably intelligent and spiteful offspring. They did not see even the shadow of her pretended self, only her pretences. And in her affections she was most sincere. She had nothing else except her beauty, and that cold not affect them at all.

Words cannot do justice to the depth of this story. The writing is beautifully vivid, and the Birds are one of the most enchanting families I have across in the world of books. As the past catches up with the present, as old secrets emerge, and as despair overtakes some members of the house, one cannot help but share the emotions: sympathise, love, regret, shed tears, and hope for a happy ending, after everything the "poor dears" have been through.

This book was originally published in the 1930s, and the dialog is fantastic; full of "dears", "sweets" and "darlings". Terms of endearment and thrown about carelessly, as are aspersions cast. For instance, little Markie, at the age of seven, calls his sister "bitch". I was fairly taken aback there. Yet, hopeless romantic that I am, paragraphs like the below did make me smile and wonder where the times have gone? Where the innocence and tranquility has disappeared to? And maybe... to an extent, I am glad we don't talk like this anymore.....

"Eliza, look at me. Darling, you're so wonderful. Why didn't I know before you cared about me. Darling, tell me. Don't be so obstinate. Oh my god, I love you so much. I think I do, don't I?"

"How can I tell you if you love me, sweet one? I only know about myself."

In a nutshell, I loved this book. The candid opinions, the selfishness, the adorations and the affections.

Rating : A

PS : I am trying out a new rating system, linked above. Please let me know what you think of it - does it work, or not so much?

Dodie Smith - I Capture The Castle

Dodie Smith's I Capture The Castle is another one of those books with a fantastic opening line, which makes the reader want more:

I write this sitting in the kitchen sink. That is, my feet are in it; the rest of me is on the draining board, which I have padded with our dog's blanket and the tea-cosy.

An enchanting narrator, seventeen year old Cassandra (described as Jane Eyre with a touch of Becky Sharp), attempts to capture eight of the months of her stay at the castle, in three journals: the six penny book, the shilling book, and the two guinea book.

Poverty-striken, with barely any new income coming in, the family is trying to figure out the best way to make ends meet. All the antiques have been sold, and the castle is but bare now. Cassandra's father, also a writer, hasn't been able to work since he was in prison for three months, and the money coming in from the successes of his first book is now nil. His second wife, Topaz, occasionally poses nude for artists to earn money, but even that isn't much for she has to live in London during these jobs, and living there is expensive. Cassandra's older sister, Rose, is bitter and disgruntled with the state of affairs, and contemplates working the streets in order to make some quick money; whereas Thomas is still going to school and giving a helping hand around at home. Finally, there's young Stephen, the son of their now deceased househelp, who is completely enamoured by Cassandra, despite the fact that it seems to be unrequited.

When Simon and Neil Cotton, the inheritors of the castle, which the family has leased, come into their lives one day, Cassandra focuses on getting Rose and Simon together, in order to improve the quality of Rose's life, and see her happier. However, what transpires is heart-wrenching, as the seventeen year old realises that love is complicated, and somehow, things don't always turn out as one intends them to.

Cassandra is a lovely and fascinating narrator, and her writing is full of literary and musical references, be it Lord Fauntleroy, or Debussy. Hidden throughout the book are loads of Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte references, and one of my favourite parts of the book read:

"I thought of the beginning of Pride and Prejudice - where Mrs. Bennett says 'Netherfield Park is let at last'. And then Mr. Bennett goes to call on the rich new owner."

"Mr. Bennett didn't owe him any rent," I said.

"Father wouldn't go anyway. How I wish I lived in a Jane Austen novel!"

I said I'd rather be in a Charlotte Bronte.

"Which would be nicest - Jane with a touch of Charlotte, or Charlotte with a touch of Jane?"

There are even art references, and I was quite surprised by a surrealist Dali reference. These references added to the book, and I found myself being fascinated as I was surrounded by intelligent well-read characters, and not girls who are looking to sit pretty and not do much else.

The emotions are also portrayed beautifully, and the honesty the journals portray are heartwarming. She comes across as a conscientious child, innocent and "consciously naive", and when she acts impulsively, her guilt and self-criticism begs for sympathy.

The one "captured" character, though, that I just didn't understand, was the father. He turned a blind eye to the problems of the castle, where his children were dressed in torn worn-out clothes, and there was barely any food at home. Even when Stephen, someone who "worked" for the family without taking any wages, offered to get a job and contribute to the household expenditures, the father carried on as though everything was right as rain. Some of the other characters were convinced that he needed psychological help, whereas others labeled him a genius.

I loved this book to bits, and thought it was a wonderful story, from the perspective of a very charming seventeen year old. The characters are incredible, the story touching, and the turn of events mind-boggling and wistful. And the book didn't have a typical ending, which endeared me to it further.

Rating: 4

Daphne du Maurier - Rebecca

Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again. It seemed to me I stood by the iron gate leading to the drive, and for a while I could not enter, for the way was barred to me.

So opens Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca, and it's an opening line that piques the reader's curiosity. Also, it seems to be a retrospective metaphor for the narrator's, a young girl who remains nameless, life at Manderley.

The late Mrs. Rebecca de Winter, the lady of Manderley, the wife of Maxim de Winter, the attractive tall dark-haired woman, who was politically correct and loved by one and all for her social graces, and her "breeding", inspired the title of this classic. But, she's not the narrator. In fact, the narrator is the "other woman", the new Mrs. de Winter, the new lady of Manderley, a young girl of low social standing, who is also socially awkward and shy.

Maxim de Winter meets the narrator in a hotel at Monte Carlo, while she's a companion to a rich and pretentious woman. While the woman tries her level best to charm Maxim, he is quite taken by the young narrator, and when the old lady falls ill and hires a nurse, Maxim spends a lot of time with the "companion", and they both find that they enjoy each other's company, despite the massive age difference. He never talks of Rebecca, and she never asks. She's heard the gossip about the lady of Manderley, a Manor house in Cornwall, drowning in a sailing accident, and Maxim's immediate breakdown.

When her employer decides to cut short the holiday, she runs to Maxim, who proposes marriage: she can be a companion to Mrs. Van Hopper, or she can marry him and be the lady of Manderley! She happily agrees to the latter, ignoring the fact that Maxim has never said anything about love. In fact, Mrs. Van Hopper, who the narrator has nothing but contempt for, offers the young girl a final piece of advice:

"Of course," she said, "you know why he is marrying you, don't you? You haven't flattered yourself he's in love with you?

But, the couple get married, honeymoon in Italy, and then head to the wonder that is Manderley.

Yes, there it was, the Manderley I had expected, the Manderley of my picture post-card long ago. A thing of grace and beauty, exquisite and faultless, lovelier even than I had ever dreamed, built in its hollow of smooth grassland, and mossy lawns, the terraces sloping to the gardens, and the gardens to the sea.

However, the happiness and wonder of the honeymoon ends right there, as the narrator meets the staff, who expect someone from a high social class - someone similar to Rebecca. The scornful Mrs. Danvers, who runs the household, treats the narrator with utter contempt, for, how can someone like her replace the Rebecca that Mrs. Danvers was devoted to? Her social awkwardness, her insecurities, and her mannerisms brings out the worst in Mrs. Danvers, who is excessively hostile, seemingly focusing on making the narrator's life uneasy...

How much more uneasy can you make someone who is haunted by her husband's dead wife's ghost, that she can almost see Rebecca, hear the conversations Rebecca has with the staff, with Maxim? How can she escape the past, and try out a hand at being the Lady of Manderley, when everything that she wants to do has already been done - be it cutting the flowers, or placing them neatly in a vase, for decorative purposes; be it sitting at the desk in the morning room, or going for walks with the cocker spaniel, Jasper? And, how can she compare to the beauty that was Rebecca when Maxim's own sister told her that she was nothing like Rebecca?! And, is Maxim still in love with his wife who hasn't even been dead a year?

Just as the reader comes to grip with the story line, the plot twists, and the reader (or me, at least) can't help but continuously flip the pages, and beg for more - to find out more about Rebecca; to find out more about Mrs. Danvers; and most importantly, to find out more about Maxim. The twists keeps the book interesting and gripping, and one can't help be amazed by how things pan out.

I loved the book to bits. I really did. In fact, I was due an early night yesterday, but I was up 'til the wee hours of the morning finishing this classic. The prose is descriptive and beautiful, and the story incredible. Manderley sounds heavenly, and I've spent most of my day trying to imagine what Manderley would look like, based on du Maurier's vivid descriptions. Wild flowers, gardens, the sea, the library, the "west wing", the "east wing", the works, really!

However, I did find that the narrator's character one-dimensional, and I don't think I really understood her. Maybe it's the times (the book was written in the 1930s), but, I can't help but wonder what can prompt a young girl to marry someone her father's age? Is it just the thought that there's someone out there who loves her, for she did delude herself into thinking Maxim had asked her to marry him because of love? And how can someone be so forgiving, and turn a blind eye to all their lover's flaws?

Have you read Rebecca? Or, any other DDM? What did you think of it? Would you love to live in a place like Manderley? Or, is it just not for you?

Rating: 4.5

PS: Thanks to Sandy from You've Gotta Read This for hosting the read-along. I'm running way ahead of schedule (it was meant to be 16 chapters by the 8th, and the rest of the book by the 15th), but I just couldn't stop reading! Blame du Maurier and Rebecca, not me!

Angela Carter - Fireworks

After being absolutely delighted with The Magic Toyshop, which has probably been my favourite book this year, I picked up Fireworks, a collection of short stories by Angela Carter. At the very outset, I should say this: I'm not the biggest fan of short stories. Sure, there are exceptions, but, more often than not, I don't like them. Character build-ups aren't great, the plots are predictable, and the last grasp plot twists sometimes make me cringe. I wasn't sure what to expect with this collection, but I decided to give it a fair shot. After all, no point having preconceived notions, right?

Fireworks is a collection of nine bizarre short stories, all of which belong to the 'magical realism' genre. There are surreal stories about reflections, and mirrors, a freakish story about puppets (reminiscent of The Magic Toyshop), a scary story about children in a forest, where the plants are carnivorous. The stories touch upon topics, like incest, rape, loneliness and estrangement. The writing, as expected, is beautiful:

She sprang towards the exquisite, odoriferous tree which, at the moment, suffused in failing yet hallucinatory light the tone and intensity of liquefied amber, seemed to her brother a perfect equivalent of his sister's amazing beauty, a beauty he had never seen before that filled him, now, with ecstasy. The dark pool reflected her darkly, like an antique mirror. She raised her hand to part the leaves in search of a ripe fruit but the greenish skin seemed to warm and glow under her fingers so the first one she touched came as easily off the stem as if it had been brought to perfection by her touch.

However, I found myself reading a lot of the stories, and thinking, "what's the point of this, if any?" I can't really pinpoint what was missing, but, I just didn't enjoy this book. I am going to attribute it to the fact that short stories aren't my cup of tea. However, if you like short stories, gothic magical surrealism, and parallelisms drawn with things you identify (e.g. The Original Sin), am sure you'll like it.

Rating: 3

Angela Carter - The Magic Toyshop

I'll say it, right at the very outset. Straight. This is one of the best books I've ever read, and, believe it or not, the cover is equally fantastic. I did judge the book by its cover, and I am still astounded by how incredible this book is, and I can continue staring at its cover for hours unending. The plot, in a nutshell, revolves around Melanie, a fifteen year old who plays grown-up one evening, by wearing her mother's wedding dress. The next morning, a telegram arrives informing her, her two siblings and their housekeeper of the children's parents' demise. The children are forced to pack up and leave their life of luxury, and move in with their Uncle Philip, who they've never really known.

Life at Uncle Philip is diametrically different from 'home' - there is no toilet paper, no hot water, there's community shampoo, and there are the "red" people - Uncle Philip's mute wife, and her two brothers: Francis and Finn. Her Uncle, who owns a puppet and toy shop, seems to spend most of his energy on his 'art' and less on his family, but nonetheless being an oppressive tyrant, who everyone in the house fears. He comes across as this abominable puppet master, a sadist, a jealous mean miser, who hates Christmas, and resents people who aren't puppets.

The story focuses on the horrible Uncle, but it's also about how Melanie comes of age, settles into the family, and finds love and affection for her Aunt, and her Aunt's brothers - brothers who her Uncle despises, and never fails to remind that they need to earn their keep. It's Melanie's story, out and out, from the moment the book starts, with her discovering her own sexuality, and fearing dying a virgin, to, her almost bursting into tears looking at the bathroom at her Uncle's place (and comparing it to her old one), to, falling in love, and finally, growing up at the tender age of fifteen going on sixteen. It's a story that starts off at the brink of losing innocence, and progresses with the protagonist falling into a whirlwind of darkness, knowing that life as she knows it is over - and it's never coming back.

This is a beautifully written, heartbreaking tragedy. It's descriptive, magical (pun unintended), and almost scary. Life changes in the blink of an eye, and three children are forced to suffer the consequences, and subjugate themselves to a life they have no control over.

They stood on the step and waited for the taxi with black bands on their arms and suitcases in their hands, forlorn passengers from a wrecked ship, clutching a few haphazardly salvaged possessions, and staring in dismay at the choppy sea to which they must commit themselves.

The metaphors, dark imagery, graphic descriptions and quasi-hallucinatory story makes this gothic fairy tale superb. The vivid scenes, be it Leda-Zeus (Melanie and the Swan puppet), or the jubilation of the entire family when Uncle Philip is away, blows the reader's mind away, and at the end of the book, I was just craving for more.

...And, I don't think my review has done this phenomenal piece of work any justice whatsoever.

Rating: 5+ {If you stumble upon this book, grab it and hug it tight, and never let it go}

PS: I've half thought that Claire @ PaperbackReader can have a blog dedicated to Angela Carter and The Magic Toyshop, and some of its stunning covers. If she ever goes down that road, I'll be happy to join her / follow each and every post! :)