Books – Page 8 – derrickjknight

Asya

Asya is the title of the third story in The Folio Society’s collection of tales of Love and Death.

It tells of how love can be missed for lack of courage to express what one really feels.

Our main protagonist, recovering from having been rejected by a flirt whom he had taken seriously fails to speak his mind to a young woman who, for her own reasons, cannot express what is in hers. During the first half there is a developing mystery concerning Asya’s erratic behaviour until its causes are revealed. Hopes are then raised about a positive outcome, which is not to be.

Once again we have insights into the mind of the narrator, and those of the brother and sister to whom he is drawn.

Descriptions of the countryside; the river Rhine, alternatively with sparkling or dark waves depending on the time of day or the weather; and on the appearance and clothing of the personnel are very well depicted. “The moon, it seemed, would stare down fixedly at [the town] out of a clear sky….and keep still and so quietly exciting to the soul”, while, on another occasion, “The sun had just set and its delicate crimson light rested on the green vines, the tall stems, on the dry earth strewn with large and small stones and on the white wall of a small cottage with sloping black beams and four bright little windows which stood on the very top of the hill we were climbing” show us the effect of differing light and dark. As usual, all the senses are engaged, as in “the delicate smell of resin in the forests, the singing and the tapping of woodpeckers, the inexhaustible babbling of glittering little streams with varicoloured trout on their sandy bottoms….”

Although the ending seems inevitable, we are disappointed when it arrives.

Elisa Trimby’s illustrations are as faithful as ever.

This evening we all dined on tender roast lamb; crisp roast potatoes and parsnips, Yorkshire pudding; firm cauliflower and broccoli; crunchy carrots; and tasty gravy, with which I finished the merlot.

Mumu

This second tale in the Folio Society’s selection of Ivan Turgenev’s stories of Love and Death tells of serfdom, of a clumsily arranged marriage, of rivalry; of unrequited love, of a submissive and fearful young lady; of love between a handicapped giant and a small spaniel; and of the ultimate sacrifice of a man obeying orders.

“He took a strong dislike to his new way of life at first. From childhood he had been used to working in the fields and to country life. Alienated by his misfortune from other people’s company, he grew up dumb and powerful like a tree growing in fertile soil … Transported to the city, he couldn’t understand what was happening to him, and he grew homesick and perplexed like a young and healthy bull that has just been taken from the pasture where the succulent grass grows as high as his stomach – has been and put in a railway wagon, his full round body being at the mercy of spark-filled smoke and waves of steam, and is being rushed along with a great clanking and whistling, rushed along – God knows where!”

The quotation above gives examples of the author’s descriptive style, packed with simile. The isolation of a man born deaf and the powerlessness of of a serf, however physically strong, to do other than obey his owner, is narrated with insightful empathy – understanding totally lacking in this woman who expects to be obeyed in the question of the arranged marriage bound to create conflict among those bound to her beck and call at any time of the day or night.

We have two more of Elisa Trimby’s lithographs faithfully capturing characters’ expressions.

Love And Death

The six stories in this collection from the work of Ivan Turgenev are almost novella length. Beginning with “The Diary of a Superfluous Man” I will review them separately.

The format is of a diary written by a dying man, an unrequited lover, more significantly a self identified redundant human being. The author’s fine descriptive prose; incorporating all the senses, notably sight, smell, and hearing; presenting the environment the natural world, and personalities in the most crucial stages of his life. The weather plays its part in setting the mood.

He begins with childhood bereavement and consequent lifelong grief pervading his last two weeks. Above all, Turgenev offers the deepest thoughts of his protagonist, As a child his “tears would flow down effortlessly just like water from a brimming glass.” As an adult he becomes tongue tied at important moments.

We are treated to a fine uplifting account of the emotions of the diarist at the moment he fell in love with an ordinary, attractive young girl who herself falls for a dashing military man who inevitably leaves her. The surprise is that the ultimate winner is a perhaps equally insignificant character.

A duel provides further conviction to the diarist’s interpretation of his superfluity.

The introduction by the translator, Richard Freeborn is thorough, insightful, and covers the range of Turgenev’s work, putting this medium in the context of his shorter sketches, stories, and full length novels. He presents me with a considerable challenge.

The title page and frontispiece above feature Elisa Trimby’s lithographs. The header picture is of the boards and spine from her design.

This evening we were joined by Ian who returned in time to partake of succulent roast chicken; crisp Yorkshire pudding and roast potatoes, sweet and white; crunchy carrots; firm cauliflower, broccoli, and Brussels sprouts, with meaty gravy. Our son-in-law drank Hoegaarden, Jackie drank more of the pinot Grigio, and I finished the Fleurie.

The Carriage & The Overcoat

These last two in the Folio Society collection of Gogol’s stories, which I finished reading this afternoon, each exhibit his dark humour aimed at the military and government classes; each concerns an attempt to secure a desired object which backfires.

The author’s fluid descriptive skills show the environment and personnel involved in the escalation of a bid for an alleged magnificent horse to become a desire for an even more magnificent carriage, neither of which lived up to their expectations. As we move up the hierarchy it is apparent that it is they who are being ridiculed. The circumstances of the exposure of the falsities was farcical.

Deception, and promises of unprepared splendid meals has been employed to ensnare a military gentleman in The Carriage, a story in which the deceiver is exposed by accident.

“…many times afterwards in his life he shuddered, seeing how much savage brutality lies hidden under refined, cultured politeness, and, my God! Even in a man whom the world accepts as a gentleman and a man of honour” – so speaks Gogol of a man who has been the butt of cruel jokes as he struggles to work at a boring occupation throughout his life. It is his coveted overcoat that is the subject of the story of which I will say no more except to show

Peter Sturt’s illustration. There is no picture attached to The Carriage.

This evening we dined on more of Jackie’s penne Bolognese with green and runner beans sautéed in garlic butter, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Fleurie.

A Madman’s Diary & The Nose

These next two tales in the Folio Society’s collection of Gogol’s Stories belong together in my series of posts. Schiller, in “The Nevsky Prospect” has already pleaded that “i don’t want a nose! Cut off my nose!”

In “A Madman’s Diary” and the following story our author presents a world where the boundaries of existence are redetermined by a maniac, perhaps Gogol as he sees himself, who in “The Nose” states that “What is utterly nonsensical happens in the world.

It seems that the terrors of his abusive childhood were at last catching up with him, and perhaps to stimulate his suicide at aged 41.

Peter Sturt has provided an illustration for each story.

The madman talks to dogs, and reads their private letters; claims to be the king of Spain; and is carried metaphorically in a straitjacket to be kept in hospital subjected to what he experiences as torture.

The owner of “The Nose” wakes up without it; conducts a search; finds it dressed up in splendid clothes.

Perhaps this is the author’s parody of the imbeciles who he believed could be promoted beyond their competence in his Russia, or anywhere else in the world.

Attempting to alleviate his position Kovalyov seeks to persuade a clerk to publish an advertisement for the discovery of his olfactory member; we see sick humour in the official offering him his snuff box when he had not the capacity to sniff. Was his desperate, lonely cry “My God, my God! Why has this misfortune befallen me?” a reference to Jesus on the cross?

The Return Of The King

With storm Isha on the way today I stayed inside and scanned the illustrations from the third of the Lord of The Rings trilogy, being a result of the redrafting by Eric Fraser of Ingahild Grathmer’s original drawings.

Here is the title page and frontispiece.

and here the pages complementing the text.

This evening we all dined on King’s House Chinese takeaway – a new outlet which delivers excellent food in good portions on Sundays.

The Nevsky Prospect

Once again in this next tale in the Folio Society selection of the stories of Nikolai Gogol, the author has displayed his facility for evoking place and person in apparently effortlessly fluent descriptive prose.

We are immediately introduced to this famous Petersburg street and its populace in the first two paragraphs covering five closely packed pages of glorious language. This technique is repeated throughout the work in different settings.

Gogol takes us through a typical day from morning to night showing the nature and numbers of visitors at work and play at different times. He details types and condition of clothing and presentation bearing in mind the impression walkers wish to impact on others of either sex. As the day progresses it is the self-display that becomes the more important.

“Thousands of varieties of hats, dresses, and kerchiefs, flimsy and bright-coloured, for which their owners feel sometimes an adoration that lasts two whole days, dazzle everyone on the Nevsky Prospect. A whole sea of butterflies seem to have flown up from their flower-stalks and to be floating in a glittering cloud above the beetles of the male sex……….And the ladies’ sleeves that that you meet….are like two air balloons and the lady might suddenly float up in the air, were she not held down by the gentlemen accompanying her, for it would be as easy and agreeable for a lady to be lifted into the air as for a glass of champagne to be lifted to the lips.”

The above quotation, part of the second paragraph mentioned above,contains samples of the descriptions, including the writer’s prolific use of metaphor and simile.

Two different gentlemen of dissimilar backgrounds and occupation meet and exchange observations of different young ladies.

We follow their diverging dreams and experiences culminating in Gogol’s belief in the falseness of the Nevsky Prospect. Peter Sturt has illustrated one man’s dream.

This evening we all dined on pork spare ribs in barbecue sauce, Jackie’s savoury rice, and breaded halloumi sticks, with which she drank more of the sauvignon blanc and I drank more of The Guv’nor.

The Portrait

I have not mentioned our heating problem recently because I am bored with it. However, ever since the end of November several of our radiators have resisted all our efforts to bleed them. Because this has been, until now, a comparatively mild winter in terms of temperature, and because one or more of our residents has been battling a virus we have managed without engineers reluctant to enter a plague house.

Now, during the coldest two or three days of the year the boiler has decided to pile on the agony. We have had no heating for two days and nights. Ronan, of Tom Sutton Heating, responded immediately this morning with an emergency visit on which he discovered and replaced a blocked filter between the oil tank outside and the pipe entering the house.

After lunch I read the next story in the Folio Society Gogol selection which serves as the title of this post.

Beginning with an engaging description of a range of local people from all walks of life the author continues in this vein with a further range of individuals, displaying a thorough knowledge of characters through their physiognomy, their clothing and its condition, their occupations, and their activities or otherwise.

One of those interested in the works in the art shop is our main protagonist who recognises the quality of one painting among the dross –

as depicted by Peter Sturt, a striking, well executed, portrait with seemingly magical powers, which had a profound effect on the skill and the lot of Tchertkov who, tempted by fame and fortune, abandoned his early love of sensitive depiction for more traditional commercial work.

Eventually he does his best to reverse the process by changing his life in a way which I do not wish to reveal, and it is only in the second part of the story that we realise the subject of the portrait.

This evening we all dined on tasty Ferndene sausages; more of yesterday’s piri-piri chicken; creamy mashed potatoes; firm cauliflower and carrots; chopped cauliflower leaves, and meaty gravy, with which Jackie drank Pique-Nique rosé 2022, and I drank The Guv’nor.

The Two Towers

This morning’s chiropractic session with Eloise was encouraging: my next appointment is for five days time, which is continuing the further spacing.

On another cold, dull, day I stayed at home afterwards and scanned the Illustrations to the second book in J.R.R.Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Here is the Title Page and Frontispiece,

and the illustrations, approved with restrictions by the author himself.

This evening we all dined on Jackie’s classic cottage pie; crunchy carrots; green and runner beans, and meaty gravy with which the Culinary Queen drank more of the chardonnay, Ian and Dillon drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Cabernet Chiménère.

The Tale Of How Ivan Ivanovitch Quarrelled With Ivan Nikiforovitch

“The Tale of How Ivan Ivanovitch Quarrelled with Ivan Nikiforovitch” is the seventh story in the Folio Society’s collection. I finished reading it this afternoon.

These two lifelong friends, suddenly estranged with the aid of a mischievous woman, because of the desire of one for an object hanging up to dry belonging the other rushes along after escalating provocation to a farcical court case conducted in a manner reminiscent of Dickens’s Jarndyce v Jarndyce and conveying in a few sentences the incompetence and delay that occupied our English novelist throughout Bleak House.

Opening with delightfully bucolic description including that of the clothes on the washing line, on which “an old uniform with frayed facings stretched its sleeves out in the air and embraced a brocade blouse” – in the process indicating the presence of the breeze, as the garments detail the uniform.

Such detail is also described later in this metaphor: “in the cupboard which had been turned to marble by ink stains.”

Gogol’s humour is evident throughout this story.

His grasp of the flow of language demonstrates the mindset of the stubborn protagonists who eventually lose track of the cause of their rift.

Peter Sturt’s illustration depicts the provocative action mentioned above.