Memorable Weddings in Novels

Another in my series of "memorables" lists: Memorable weddings in novels.

Some of these weddings are elaborate, some are simple; some are fated to end well, some are interrupted, botched, or doomed to go bad. But all are vivid and memorable.

-Meg and John in “Little Women” (Alcott)
-Anne and Gilbert in “Anne’s House of Dreams” (Montgomery)
-Jane Eyre and Rochester in “Jane Eyre” (Bronte) – the famous interrupted wedding
-Charles and Emma in “Madame Bovary” (Flaubert)
-Newland and May in “The Age of Innocence” (Wharton) – while he thinks only of Ellen
-Adam and Dinah in “Adam Bede” (Eliot)
-Sergeant Troy and Fanny Robin in “Far From the Madding Crowd” – a comedy of errors that turns to tragedy

"The Guy Not Taken," by Jennifer Weiner

For a recent long plane trip, I picked up what seemed like a perfect “plane trip book,” Jennifer Weiner’s “The Guy Not Taken: Stories” (Atria, 2006). (I know I have mentioned several books from my "recent plane trip" -- a perfect illustration of what I have written about before: that I always take many books on trips, being afraid I will run out of reading matter several thousand feet in the air....) I have read a couple of Weiner’s other books, so I knew what to expect, and I got what I expected: a book that is accessible, readable, enjoyable, but still at least somewhat “literary,” as opposed to beach reads/chick lit. (I have posted about this fine line before, for example on 2/8/10, 3/17/10, and 9/10/10.) Some of the stories in this volume are connected, sharing characters and history, and some not, but even the ones that are not share similar themes, most notably the after-effects of divorce on families. In an intriguing postscript, Wiener provides a bit of background information on each story and its inspiration and context; one of her main points is that she drew extensively on her experiences with her own parents’ divorce. She also writes about adolescence, sisters, families, starting out one’s career as a young woman in her twenties, romance, affairs, and marriage. These stories combine serious themes with a breezy style, and somehow this combination works well.

French vs. Creole Literature in the Caribbean

Last month I attended a professional conference on language studies (ISLS: The International Society of Language Studies) in the Caribbean, and one of the most interesting papers I heard there was titled “The Linguistic Crossroads of French Caribbean Writers.” The speaker, Maria Moreno, pointed out the conflict felt by Caribbean writers (she focused on those from Haiti, Martinique, and Guadaloupe), who were torn between using the native language(s) that they were/are proud of -- in this case Creole -- and the more prestigious and widely known French. Because Creole was considered by the larger world, and even many in those countries themselves, as a patois, a "bastardized" version of French, writers tended to write in French instead. Yet, as Moreno showed, beginning in the 1940s and 1950s, writers such as Maryse Conde began to introduce more words and elements of Creole into their writing, first with explanations and then proudly standing on their own. I learned much from this conference paper about the specifics of literature in these countries (although I had read some of Conde’s work a while ago); I am aware of related conflicts experienced by writers in other parts of the world as well. For example, some African writers have chosen to write in English in order to be more widely read, while others have chosen to write in local languages in order to be accessible to local readers, and in order to help preserve those languages. The same situation exists in some cases in India and elsewhere. There are of course many more social/political/literary aspects of these questions around the world, and there is no one “right” answer for any specific writer or locale. This paper on French Caribbean writers was a good reminder of the ongoing issues.

Julian Barnes' "Homage to Hemingway"

Yet more Hemingway! After writing several times recently on Hemingway-related topics, most recently on 7/1/11, I opened the 7/4/11 issue of The New Yorker to find a Julian Barnes short story titled “Homage to Hemingway.” The story is about a writer who teaches writing at various seminars in various locales, and often alludes to Hemingway. The story’s three-part structure echoes, we find out, the three-part structure of Hemingway’s own story, “Homage to Switzerland.” In that story, three American men wait at different Swiss train stations, and idly amuse themselves by bothering and/or condescending to local waitresses, porters, and others in various ways. This is definitely an “ugly American” story. There is a feeling that the three men are three aspects of the same man or at least the same type. In Barnes’ story, the three parts depict the writer in different teaching situations, including one in Switzerland. The writer/teacher talks about and speculates about the Hemingway story. After reading the Barnes story, I found and listened to a podcast (of 12/8/10) on the Guardian UK book site (www.guardian.co.uk/books) of Barnes reading the Hemingway story, and it was illuminating to experience the two stories back to back. The podcast also included Barnes’ commentary about the story, which he chose because it was NOT one of the “macho” stories, but one that showed Hemingway’s lesser-known wit and humor, as well as some innovation in form. For another side of Hemingway, and a deft homage to that side, I recommend both “Homage” stories to your attention.

"Another You"

I like Ann Beattie’s work very much, and have written about it here (6/26/10). But recently when I took one of her novels, “Another You” (Vintage, 1996), with me on a trip, and read a bit on the plane, a bit in the hotel room, and a bit more on the plane back, I found myself dragging myself through it, dozing off, getting distracted, not looking forward to reading more. I finally did finish it, but I just didn’t enjoy it all that much. The problem may have been that I didn’t feel engaged with the main characters -- a couple in a lukewarm marriage, a charming but bizarre and deceptive English professor acquaintance of theirs, an earnest but also deceptive female college student, and assorted others -- or the plot, a kind of meandering, semi-mysterious one, with turns and twists that were meant to be surprising but just sort of fizzled out. Now I can’t decide if it is just this novel, or if I am somehow less taken by Ann Beattie’s work as a whole than I used to be. Or perhaps I still like her short stories (which she is most known for) but not her novels? Should I seek out and read or re-read another of her novels to find out? Or should I let the question percolate in the back of my mind until I happen to stumble across one of her novels again, perhaps at a library sale or on vacation, and then see what happens?

No Writing Without Reading

I am a firm believer that one cannot be a good, let alone great, writer without being a constant reader. It astonishes me to hear of people who want to be writers but don’t actually enjoy reading much, and sometimes proudly admit as much. Imagine the equivalent situations of someone who learns to play a musical instrument without listening to music, or someone who paints without looking at works of art in museums, galleries, walls of murals, or books. Yes, the basic content of art is life itself, but one needs to see and hear what others have made of this content throughout the history of music, art, and literature: the great themes, myths, and metaphors. And regarding form: one has to read a lot -- and I mean a LOT -- to absorb the rhythms of the language, the grammatical patterns, the riches of vocabulary, and the glorious combinations of words, sentences, paragraphs, and chapters that form the best that language has to offer.

"The Paris Wife"

Hemingway, Hemingway, Hemingway! I haven’t thought much about Ernest Hemingway for years, but in the past few months he has re-entered my consciousness several times, through his novel “The Sun Also Rises,” which I re-read and then posted about on 2/27/11; the film “Paris at Midnight,” which I posted about on 6/9/11; an article about him in an airline magazine, of all places, which I posted about on 6/29/11; and now the bestselling novelized version of his first wife’s life, “The Paris Wife” (Ballantine, 2011), by Paula McLain. This novel recaps some of the information we all know by now about the Hemingway years in Paris in the 20s, but it adds (in a fictionalized version) much information and many insights both about Hemingway and about his wife Hadley. They had a lot going for them, including a child, and it was in some ways a golden time for them as well as for their group of friends, but Hemingway’s writing always came first, and Hadley was often lonely. And after a few years, he was somehow able to justify in his own mind that it was acceptable for him to have an affair with a dazzling woman, a free spirit, whom both Ernest and Hadley had been close to. The affair broke up the marriage. Although the novel gives Hemingway his due, and presents a rounded portrait of his strengths and weaknesses, finally we see that he was essentially selfish in feeling he should be able to have everything he wanted, no matter the cost to those around him. This novel is well written and fast-paced, a literary page turner.