Author: Monique (Page 9 of 123)

What a strange novel! But what else would you expect from the author of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell? This is a brilliant creative exploration of reality.

Summary: A man named Piranesi moves through the rooms of a vast series of buildings. He has mapped the buildings and corridors of the labyrinth where he lives but it’s uncertain where he is and why he is there. Piranesi also produces detailed journals on the statues found in each building, along with the mysteries of the sea tides that swamp different floors. There is one other human that Piranesi encounters, the Other. But the Other only appears once a week and he has secrets that Piranesi slowly pieces together. To say it all comes crumbing down is an understatement.

Once the Other was in the Eighth Northern Hall. A strong Tide from the Northern Halls rose in the Tenth Vestibule, followed moments later by an equally strong Tide from the Eastern Halls in the Twelfth Vestibule. Vast quantities of Water poured into the surrounding Halls, including the one where the Other was. The Waters plucked him up and carried him away, sweeping him through Doors and battering him against Walls and Statues. Several times he was completely immersed, and he expected to drown. Eventually the Tides cast him up on the Pavement of the Third Western Hall (a distance of seven Halls from where he began). That is where I found him. I fetched him a blanket and hot soup made of seaweed and mussels. As soon as he was able t walk, he took himself off without a word. I do not know where he went. (I never really know.) This happened in the Sixth Month of the Year I named the Constellations. Since then the Other has been afraid of the Tides.

Part 2, The Other

Spoiler alert: Well, not a real spoiler, but the man’s name is not Piranesi, this is a name given to him by the Other. And this the fun of Susanna Clarke’s writing. Giovanni Battista Piranesi (1720-1778) was one of the greatest printmakers of the 18th century. He also loved architecture, in particular the grandeur of Rome, and was considered a creative genius. He’s best known for his hundreds of etchings including views of Rome, Pompeii, and his series on “Le Carceri d’Invenzione” or “The Imaginary Prisons.” I can see why the name Piranesi fits. A perfect quote from the 18th century Piranesi, “I need to produce great ideas, and I believe that if I were commissioned to design a new universe, I would be mad enough to undertake it.”

The characters in Piranesi are not the magicians of Susanna Clarke‘s earlier works. There is some of the world-exploration and mystery of Erin Morgenstern’s The Starless Sea, but again it’s not really magic and fantasy, even though there’s some magic realism here.

Perfect for fans of The Midnight Library by Matt Haig.

What an unsettling novel. Adeline LaRue grows up in the quiet village of Villon, France. She’s adventurous and curious about the world beyond the village paths. Adeline gets a small taste of freedom the few times she is allowed to travel with her father to market in a larger town but that soon ends when her mother deems her too grown up.

Next thing Addie knows, she is being married off to old Roger and there’s nothing she can say about it. It’s 1714. Addie runs away and prays to one of the old gods to save her. Anything but marrying Roger and living and dying within the small village. But Adeline doesn’t realize she is praying, begging, after dark, and you should never pray to the gods that answer in the dark.

Addie makes a deal with the wrong god. She wishes for freedom, and get immortality. The Dark has saved her from marriage but the curse is that she’ll never be remembered. As soon as she leaves someone’s sight, they forget her.

Adeline lives this way for 300 years before it all changes.

The novel bounces around from 1714 to 2014 and many years in between. Addie sees Wagner operas performed in their time, she watches Beethoven meet his end, sees Sinatra on stage, witnesses the French Revolution, World Wars, the 60s. It’s a crazy novel. And enjoyable read, but unsettling they way she is never there, never remembered. There’s something about making deals with the dark that is deeply unsettling, and captured so well here.

Fans of Jane Austen will love Elizabeth Taylor.

Mrs Palfrey at the Claremont has all the nuanced observations of high society along with a bit of icy wit. Mrs Palfrey is sharp as a tack and in pretty good form for an old bird. But she’s widowed, running out of funds (not too badly), and does not want to impose on her daughter or nephew by moving in with them (unimaginable). Instead on a rainy Sunday afternoon in January, she arrives at the Claremont Hotel, which is where many an old codger end up who have financial means and do not need hospital care. It’s a seniors home without the nurses.

The group quietly accepts her, or perhaps she quietly accepts them. Everyone cues like cattle for the dining room to open. And they are mostly stiff upper lipped, formerly wealthy Brits, with opinions.

Mrs Palfrey quickly finds herself telling a fib about her nephew coming to visit. Then it becomes a bit of a gossipy playing card with the other ladies who do have visitors. Everyone is quite nosy in this novel. Well, dear Mrs Palfrey finds herself having a bit of a tumble one day while out on a walk. A young writer named Ludo helps her up and delivers her home. It’s an unlikely friendship but Mrs Palfrey asks if Ludo might pop in for a drink at the Claremont so she can pass him off as the nephew who’s been too busy to visit.

Well, it’s all funny in a Jane Austen way from there. I won’t spoil it.

This is a quaint read, and in some ways reminds me of The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman.

Summary: Esther Greenwood is working as an intern for a fashion magazine in New York. It’s 1953. Her day-to-day routine involves writing magazine pieces, doing research, and mostly attending various fashion events and getting free drinks. It’s darkly funny. There’s no Devil Wears Prada character but the first part of the novel has that energy. The second half is more Girl, Interrupted. Esther’s internship ends and she returns to her sleepy little town. The Bell Jar was published in 1963 so in many ways the second half of the novel is a horrifying look at how mental health was treated. And it’s a sad read when you see what Esther goes through, and also know that Plath committed suicide weeks after the publication of this novel.

There were twelve of us at the hotel.

We had all won a fashion magazine contest, by writing essays and stories and poems and fashion blurbs, and as prizes they gave us jobs in New York for a month, expenses paid, and piles and piles of free bonuses, like ballet tickets and passes to fashion shows and hair stylings at a famous expensive salon and chances to meet successful people in the field of our desire and advice about what to do with our particular complexions.

I still have the make-up kit they gave me.

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I enjoyed this book a lot. It’s a novel that captures a distinct time. Very Mad Men, 1950s society and culture. And yet so many things remain the same. This is Sylvia Plath’s only novel so it’s worth the read.