Month: May 2024

Trilling songbirds heralded dawn this morning,

soon after which I embarked upon completing my reading of

Writing a review, and scanning pictures, which was to occupy me until well into the evening.

This undated edition by Heirloom Library Limited bears the inscription “Gordon Xmas 1949”. It is my loss that it has languished unopened on my shelves for the 50 years since I bought it, presumably in second hand bookshop.

With the authors dry wit and sound knowledge of boys, their philosophy, their deviousness, their fluctuating relationships, their machinations, their vulnerable bravado, their games, their likes and dislikes, and their fundamental honesty, Twain introduces us to the eponymous protagonist with a series of exchanges of fast moving dialogue and descriptions of scrapes and speculation. Family, friends, and enemies are featured in this manner, while we have many examples of the author’s descriptive powers encompassing characterisation, place, and the natural world. He has an in depth knowledge of plants and wildlife effortlessly woven into tales of Tom and those around him.

Imaginary scenarios are invented and played out until exhaustion or boredom causes interest to wane; the passion is easily transferable.

Twain’s prose is poetic, with plenty of metaphor, such as “the sermon that wagged its crippled tail at the end of each and every one of them”; and alliteration, as in “varnished foliage and festooning vines” or “voluptuous votary of fashion”

Soon the action picks up and the important adventures begin, with excitement, dread, and wavering progress. We are reminded that even courageous children can wilt at the drop of a hat. Throughout everything the courage and leadership of Tom prevails.

Geoffrey Whittham’s immaculate illustrations are drawn with such perfect precision of perspective and movement.

The frontispiece is featured above; Here are the cover boards and spine;

and the endpapers, repeated back and front.

Where the black and white drawings appear opposite a page of text I have included this for those who wish to sample Twain’s prose.

There are 8 full page colour plates, including the frontispiece.

This evening we dined on the last of Jackie’s tasty chicken and vegetable stewp accompanied by pizza, with which I drank more of the Alentejano.

Today I finished reading

This superbly constructed story of the search for love of a heroine wishing to blend passionate physical needs with the emotional and spiritual aspects, bearing in mind the constraints of duty and a strong Christian faith, has rightly stood the test of time since its first bursting on the literary scene in 1847.

We are carried along with fluid prose at a breakneck speed. Bronte has full command of dialogue, and the thoughts of Jane as she struggles with her wishes and her sense of propriety. She experiences a lifetime of self denial. Humour is absent.

There have been so many filmed versions of the story that we all think we know it well. Knowledge of the finish could have affected my reading, but it really didn’t, and I hope not to give the game away in this review.

Our author has observant descriptive powers of place and person and uses this to good advantage in setting her scenes. This is lyrically demonstrated on the very first page: “A small breakfast room adjoined the drawing room. I slipped in there. It contained a book-case: I soon possessed myself of a volume, taking care that it should be one stored with pictures. I mounted into the window-seat: gathering up my feet, I sat cross-legged, like a Turk; and, having drawn the red moreen curtain nearly close, I was shrined in double retirement.

Folds of scarlet drapery shut in my view to the right hand; to the left were the clear planes of glass, protecting, but not separating me from the drear November day. At intervals, while turning over the leaves of my book, I studied the aspect of that winter afternoon. Afar, it offered a pale bank of mist and cloud; near, a scene of wet lawn and storm-beat shrub, with ceaseless rain sweeping away wildly before a long and lamentable blast.”

The harsh weather is a constant feature reflecting the unrelenting cruel neglect of her childhood that gave her a sense of having no value to anyone, yet unable to quell her inner strength.

Fear of failure in “habituating [her]self to new rules and unwonted tasks” was to dog her adult life. Her such for love was apparently unsuccessful, partly because of the strong principles outlined in my second paragraph.

Throughout Jane’s time at Thornfield there is evidence of a dark secret during which we are misled into imagining a misleading source. Another secret concerning her upbringing emerges later.

There is no shortage of exciting activity. The wreck of a storm blasted chestnut tree; “the cloven halves…not broken from each other” becomes a prophetic metaphor by the end of the tale.

J.H.’s introduction puts the work in the context of the Brontes’ lives and time.

Anthony Colbert’s lithographs are evocative of the mood of the story.

This evening we dined on tender roast lamb; boiled new potatoes; firm broccoli and cauliflower, the chopped leaves of which produce cabbage; and crunchy carrots, with meaty gravy. I finished the Sangiovese and Syrah.