Tag: The Folio Society

Wuthering Heights

In a comment on her post
Book Review: Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë of 1st July, the excellent reviewer https://bvitelli2002.wordpress.com

knowing full well what the answer was likely to be, asked me whether I had a copy in my library.

I therefore offer

as an accompaniment to Barbara’s review.

As usual images may be enlarged when accessing the gallery. Charles Keeping’s lithographs suit the mood of the book very well.

This afternoon I watched the Wimbledon Tennis men’s match between Carlos Alcaraz and Frances Tiafoe followed by the women’s game between Emma Raducanu and Maria Sakkari. Before the latter match had finished we dined on bowls of rice, noodles, and prawns from bowls on our knees in front of the TV. I drank more Malbec.

The Folio Wordsworth

Prompted by a comment yesterday from Anne of Something Over Tea I have today scanned sample pages from

The poems speak for themselves. Nicholas Roe’s introduction is informative and helpful.

Peter Reddick also designed the cover boards, and

decorated the pages with fine bucolic engravings, as fitted the poet.

Including pages of explanatory notes this volume contains almost 500 large format pages.

This evening we all dined on Jackie’s wholesome cottage pie; Lionnaise potatoes; carrots, cauliflower, broccoli, and runner beans, with which I drank Patrick Chodot Fleurie 2022, from a bottle Jackie had bought for me for my post operative return, yet which I hadn’t been able to open until now.

The Folio Hamlet

“An actor who is playing Hamlet should, perhaps, not write about the play. He has formulated his own opinions in order to portray the character as best he feels able. This means that, for the moment, he is set in his ideas about a character on the analysis of which the finest brains of critics and actors have been bent for three hundred and fifty years: so it may seem presumptuous of him to drag the cloak of his opinion in so vast an arena.” So begins Richard Burton’s insightful introduction to this volume. His decision not to review the play accords with mine for rather different reasons, given that others more knowledgeable would have so much more to offer.

I took this book into hospital for me but got no further than the first couple of scenes before I ran out of impetus for reading anything at all – certainly not

I continued at home over the last few days.

Here is the now rather fragile book jacket, looking pretty good after 70 years, and also

the front board design that adorns every issue in this series.

These are the special illustrations by Roger Furse.

This evening Becky, Ian , Jackie, and I all dined on Mr Pink’s battered cod and chips and mushy peas

The Old Wives’Tale

This morning I finished reading

In this truly great example of an English novel rivalling the realism of the French Balzac or Zola, Bennet has traced the disparate lives of two sisters born of the same provincial family, delineating their different characters and chosen paths, and reuniting them in their later lives. A sentence from the very last chapter could serve as a statement about the story as a whole: “she paused in wonder at the contrasting hazards of existence.”

The work was first published by Chapman and Hall in 1908, although the author’s chosen period was half a century earlier, as indicated by such as a test ride of the unsteady and uncomfortable aptly termed “bone-shaker” bicycle.

One of the sisters, the more traditionally restrained and less adventurous, never moves from her place of birth; the other, unpredictable, wilful and risk-taking leaves her homeland for a life abroad.

The author has a deep, insightful, knowledge of human nature and the skill of describing and exploring the thoughts, minds, and actions of his characters, both male and female.

Bennet has genuine sympathy with his protagonists, sensitively understanding their strengths and their flaws. He manages their negotiations with each other, – knowing when to enter into subtle persuasion or direct confrontation and when to accept an adamant stance. He shows the potential folly of either headstrong or too reticent love; the importance of trust, and the danger of deception.

“Constance, who bore Mrs Baines’s bunch of keys at her girdle, a solemn trust, moved a little fearfully to a corner cupboard which was hung in the angle to the right of the projecting fireplace, over a shelf on which stood a large copper tea-urn. That corner cupboard, of oak inlaid with maple and ebony in a simple border pattern, was typical of the room. It was of piece with the deep green ‘flock’ wallpaper, and the tea-urn, and the rocking-chairs with their antimacassars, and the harmonium in rosewood with a Chinese papier-mâché tea-caddy on the top of it; even with the carpet, certainly the most curious parlour carpet that ever was, being made of lengths of stair-carpet sewn together side by side. That corner cupboard was already old in service; it had held the medicines of generations. It gleamed darkly with the grave and genuine polish which comes from ancient use alone. The key which Constance chose from her bunch was like the cupboard, smooth and shining with years; it fitted and turned very easily, yet with a firm snap……..” demonstrates Bennet’s facility for description of place and person. Just as the room gives a flavour of the residents, there are many passages where physical images render their characters. Readers will note that plentiful alliteration eases the flow of the prose. Many further examples include those making use of the siblings’ names, e.g. “Sophia slipped out of bed”, “Constance eagerly consented”; “the tap in the coal-cellar out of repair could be heard distinctly and systematically dripping water into a jar on the drop-stone” emphasising a moment of tension; “the enervating voluptuousness of grief” being such an apt description.

Similes like “the topic which secretly ravaged the supper-world as a subterranean fire ravages a mine” abound; “During eight years the moth Charles had flitted round her brilliance and was now singed past escape” is an example of a rich metaphor.

Dry humour, such as the chapters on a troubling tooth removal, is in plentiful supply.

Tim Heald’s introduction gives useful information about Bennet and his time.

The header picture shows the title page and frontispiece, which is to my mind the more fitting lithograph by Glynn Boyd Harte.

Whilst the composition of Harte’s illustrations is impeccable the figures are ill defined and faces seem to be avoided, when I can’t see any justification for this in the author’s meticulous work. It is hard to see the beauty described by Bennet in the couple greeting each other in the second image, and one would never know the distressing disaster being discussed in the last one.

This evening we dined on succulent roast lamb, mint sauce, boiled baby new potatoes, firm carrots and broccoli, with tender cabbage and tasty gravy.

Huckleberry Finn

Two sisters came bearing birthday gifts for Jackie today; first Shelly this morning; then Elizabeth this afternoon – also bringing scones, butter, and jam.

We enjoyed convivial conversations.

Between visits I finished reading and scanning the illustrations to Mark Twain’s iconic novel.

After dining on Ashleigh’s fish and chips; Heinz baked beans; Mrs Elswoods’s pickled gherkins; and Garner’s pickled onions, I reviewed the book, of which this is the illustrated title page:

In a journey with his older friend Jim along the Mississippi River, itself a major character in the book, Huck Finn spends every effort to carry the runaway slave to freedom. Both man and boy seek freedom, peace, and comfort. Huck has been adopted by a woman wishing to convert him from his carefree lifestyle to a more traditional middle class one; the “nigger” Jim wants to own himself rather than be valued at $800 to someone else, although he feels that is where he belongs.

They take off together on a raft, meeting various adventures involving a violent village where a lethal vendetta rages, and a man of public position is able to shoot another dead; a generous, friendly family; a gang hunting runaway slaves; a commercial vessel prepared to run down their boat. On each occasion Jim was forced to hide while Huck reconnoitred the scenes.

The story is a plea for non-violence, and above all an exposure of how the negro slaves are regarded as property to be bought and sold. As such we are shown that certain attitudes have not progressed in the intervening century and a half since the original 1883 publication. There have been a number of attempts in the 20th and 21st centuries to ban the book.

Written in the vernacular of the unlettered eponymous protagonist and the tongue of his black friend, the fluid prose of the book follows the calms and the storms of the river along which they travel. “Pretty soon it darkened up and begun to thunder and lighten; so the birds was right about it. Directly it begun to rain, and it rained like all fury, too, and I never seen the wind blow so. It was one of those regular summer storms. It would get so dark that it looked all blue-black outside, and lovely; and the rain would thrash along by so thick that the tree off a little ways looked dim and spider-webby; and here would come a blast of wind that would bend the trees down and turn up the pale underside of the leaves; and then a perfect ripper of a gust would follow along and set the branches to tossing their arms as if they was just wild; and next, when it was just about the bluest and blackest – fst! it was a bright as glory and you’d have a little glimpse of treetops a-plunging about, away off yonder in the storm, hundreds of yards further than you could see before; dark as sin again in a second, and now you’d hear the thunder let go with an awful crash and then go rumbling, grumbling, tumbling down the sky towards the under side of the world, like rolling empty barrels down stairs, where it’s long stairs and they bounce a good deal, you know” also gives examples of Twain’s simile and metaphor.

Colin Ward’s knowledgeable introduction is well written and helpful.

The pages including Harry Brockway’s muscular wood engravings contain further examples of Twain’s prose.

The header picture is of the boards and spine of my Folio Society edition.

A Passage To India

Today I completed my reading of

This beautifully written novel, although first published in 1924, depicts the attitudes of the British governing classes, their relationships among themselves and with the Indians, themselves representing different cultures and beliefs. The barely concealed tensions and resentments between the various groups ready to explode as they eventually do during a court case inevitably exposing deep seated prejudices, not just between governors and the subjugated, but also among the different faiths within the sub-continent.

The truths of the pivotal accusation are dependent upon individual perceptions depending upon individual attitudes and fixed convictions.

With the benefit of his insightful characterisation Forster gives a profound, complex, picture of his protagonists with sensitive narrative. He has a mastery of dialogue. The prose flows along like the Ganges, and is full of examples of his descriptive skills, making good use of similes such as “three ladies…suddenly shot out of the summer-horselike exquisitely coloured swallows” , metaphors, adjectives and adverbs. Perhaps this paragraph is an extended metaphor in itself: “Going to hang up her cloak, she found that the tip of the peg was occupied by a small wasp. She had known this wasp or his relatives by day; they were not as English wasps, but had long yellow legs which hung down behind when they flew. Perhaps he mistook the peg for a branch – no Indian animal has any sense of an interior. Bats, rats, birds, insects will as soon nest inside a house as out; it is to them a normal growth of the eternal jungle, which alternately produces trees, houses, trees. There he clung, asleep while the jackals in the plain bayed their desires and mingled with the percussion of drums.” The descriptions of the significant Marabar caves are equally polished, as is that of the sensitive depiction of the punkah-wallah keeping the fan turning in the courtroom. This was a man of considerable beauty of the lowest caste performing a routine task with no understanding of what was going.

The book contains predictions that India will become a nation free from British rule; its own indigenous people will become one of equality was not considered.

Michael Holroyd’s informative introduction puts this classic in the context of the author’s time, his childhood, and his other work.

The bustling illustrations of Ian Ribbons requiring close study for interpretation perfectly reflect the book and its subject. The Header picture shows the boards and spine of the Folio Society’s production.

This evening we all dined on meaty sausages, creamy mashed potatoes, crunchy carrots, firm cauliflower, and tender broccoli stems, with which I drank more of the Malbec.

Vanity Fair

William Makepeace Thackeray’s 1848 serialised novel,

was adapted to an ITV 7 episode series in 2018. I have not seen that, but I have just finished a second reading of the nineteenth century original of such a saga appearing in regular parts, eagerly awaited at intervals by a keen public. Indeed, taken in steady, regular, chunks, this was the Victorian version of streaming.

Fay Weldon’s insightful and informative introduction offers as an explanation for the author’s active change of pace and continuous engagement of his readers, what would seem to be the economics of landing a publisher. The early chapters introducing the characters are remain staid and tentative until the rollicking narrative responds to the need to meet a monthly contractual deadline when a writer follows his subjects at an enthralling speed.

The 1815 battle of Waterloo is pivotal, from the point of view of those left at home, rather than the combatants.

We follow the fortunes and misfortunes of two upper middle class families; two beautiful women of contrasting natures – one kind and gentle; the other scheming and seductive; a falling out of the patriarchs and its consequences.

Thackeray’s descriptive powers and command of conversation, his deep understanding of human nature, and his knowledge of those of his chosen class, keep his characters alive to us through all the years during which his work has been continually in print.

We learn the customs of the times of the times, including the legal systems, the position of women; class and economic differences; attitudes to gaming and duelling. Some of the terms betray attitudes to race which grate to modern ears.

'Let us have some3 music, Miss Sedley - Amelia'

Roland Pym’s exquisitely drawn, composed, and detailed colour plates are delightfully apt for the period.

A book of 67 chapters perforce requires a certain amount of culling of the vignettes with associated examples of prose.

These are my choices.

Thérèse Raquin

Such was the critical outcry labelling the first serialisation of this novel entitled “Un Mariage d’amour” in L’Artiste between August and October 18th pornographic, that Zola provided a preface to the second, 1868, edition explaining his object and refuting the accusations. Certainly anyone seeking prurience would have been disappointed.

I finished reading my Folio Society edition of the work this morning.

Here are the front boards and spine;

and the title page and the frontispiece;

“The Passage du Pont-Neuf…” in which the story mostly takes place “is no place to go for a nice stroll”. “At night the arcade is lit by three gas jets in heavy square lanterns. These gas jets hang from the glass roof, on to which they cast up patches of lurid light, while they send down palely luminous circles that dance fitfully and now and again seem to disappear altogether. Then the arcade takes on the sinister look of a real cut-throat alley; great shadows creep along the paving stones and damp drafts blow in from the street until it seems like an underground gallery dimly lit by three funeral lamps. By way of lighting the shopkeepers make do with the feeble beams that these lanterns send through their windows, and inside the shop they merely light a shaded lamp and stand it on a corner of the counter, and then passers-by can make out what there is inside these burrows where in daytime there is nothing but darkness. The windows of a dealer in cardboard make a blaze of light against the row of dismal shop-fronts, for two shale-oil lamps pierce the gloom with their yellow flames. On the opposite side a candle in a lamp-glass fills the case of artificial jewellery with starry lights. The proprietress sits dozing in her cupboard with hands under her shawl.” Thus the author sets the scene reflecting the generally stifling mood that keeps the main protagonists trapped.

Thérèse has spent her childhood and adolescence suppressing any normal emotional and physical needs to the oppressive atmosphere created by her aunt and husband. Continuing into her young adulthood it is poignant that regular Thursday evening dominos with characterless acquaintances offers the only relief from crushing boredom and unconsummated marriage, until her passions are unlocked by the brutal advances of one who becomes her lover.

Desirous of freedom to marry each other the adulterous pair devise a not unexpected solution, the setting of which offers far more pleasant bucolic descriptions along the banks of the Seine.

Zola’s narration of the deeply destructive effect that guilt and delusional experiences have on these main protagonists careers along at breakneck speed displaying deep understanding of complex characterisation, in particular the part played by thoughts of terrified minds in tune with each other. Locked together in violent passion they can no longer make love.

Two characters who light the way to the ultimate conclusion are the now paralysed aunt who has no speech and can only use her eyes; and the not uncommon device of a haunting painting.

Far from being pornographic this is a grim tale of selfish transgression and inexorable retribution with few personnel and minimal physical activity.

Leonard Tancock’s introduction is useful and informative;

and the lithographs by Janos Kass in a powerful contemporary style.

This evening we all dined on Jackie’s classic beef and onion pie; boiled potatoes; crunchy carrots; firm cauliflower and broccoli, and meaty gravy, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Cabernet Sauvignon.

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.

St John’s Eve

The train ticket inserted into

suggests that I last finished reading this volume on a train journey from Nottingham to London Kings Cross between 19th June and 18th July 2009. The illustration above is of the title page and frontispiece.

After the preface to Volume I of Evenings on a Farm near Dukonka, yesterday I read ‘St John’s Eve’, the first story in the collection. This dreamlike tale apparently draws on the folk tales of the author’s native Ukraine

Gogol’s beautifully descriptive prose apparently effortlessly deploys luscious language fluently telling of witchery, devilry, practices and customs of days gone by, marriage, clothing, beliefs, and history. Our protagonist struggles with retaining memory of a significant occurrence involving a disappearing and reappearing stranger who no doubt had cast a spell. The writer employs good use of imagery, metaphor, and simile exemplified by “his memory was like an old miser’s pocket out of which you can’t entice a penny”.

Although I have no Russian, Constance Garnett’s translation seems to me to have retained the author’s free fluidity.

Philip Hensher’s introduction is helpful in placing Gogol’s writing in the context of his time and his seemingly horrific childhood.

Peter Suart’s illustrations display the nightmare quality of some of the stories. I will work my way through the book attaching these pictures with each of the tales in turn. The one above shows “He would sit in the middle of the hut … with the bags of gold at his feet”.

When closing the book we can admire the spine and front board designed by the artist.

PS. Please see koolkosherkitchen’s comments below for an important supplement to this review.