Showing posts with label Mark Twain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mark Twain. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 2, 2024

Percival Everett’s Philosophical Reply to “Huckleberry Finn”

 



Percival Everett’s Philosophical Reply to “Huckleberry Finn”

In his new novel, “James,” Everett explores how an emblem of American slavery can write himself into being.

Percival Everett’s novels seem to ward off the lazier hermeneutics of literary criticism, yet they also have a way of dangling the analytical ropes with which we critics hang ourselves. His latest novel follows the misadventures of a runaway named Jim and his young companion Huckleberry in the antebellum American South. As in another novel featuring those protagonists, Jim has fled enslavement in the state of Missouri, and Huckleberry, Huck for short, has faked his own death to escape his no-good abusive Pap. As in that other novel, the two are both bonded and divided by the circumstances of their respective fugitivity as they float together on a raft down the Mississippi River. As in that other novel, the narrator of Everett’s book is setting down his story as best he knows how, but—rather differently—the narrator here is not the boy but the man who has been deprived of the legal leave to be one. “With my pencil, I wrote myself into being,” Jim writes. The novel is titled, simply, “James,” the name Jim chooses for himself. In conferring interiority (and literacy) upon perhaps the most famous fictional emblem of American slavery after Uncle Tom, Everett seems to participate in the marketable trope of “writing back” from the margins, exorcizing old racial baggage to confront the perennial question of—to use another worn idiom—what “Huck Finn” means now. And yet, with small exceptions, “James” meanders away from the prefab idioms that await it.

Monday, December 5, 2022

Robert McCrum / All Time Top 10

 

Joseph Conrad

All Time Top 10

Robert McCrum
Sunday 16 August 2015 09.00 BST

Finally, we are left with the classics, often by dead white males, those books to which English language readers worldwide return again and again. Say what you like about my list (and thousands have merrily done so these past two years), the Anglo-American literary tradition, a source of some sublime and imperishable masterpieces, deserves to be celebrated for some astonishing achievements. Here, to provoke Observer readers just one last time, is my All Time Top 10 (chosen from this series, in chronological order):




007 Emma by Jane Austen (1816)
Jane Austen’s Emma is her masterpiece, mixing the sparkle of her early books with a deep sensibility.




Emily Brontë’s windswept masterpiece is notable not just for its wild beauty but for its daring reinvention of the novel form itself.




Wise, funny and gripping, Melville’s epic work continues to cast a long shadow over American literature.


This cathedral of words stands today as perhaps the greatest of the great Victorian fictions.


Mark Twain’s tale of a rebel boy and a runaway slave seeking liberation upon the waters of the Mississippi remains a defining classic of American literature.




Joseph Conrad’s masterpiece about a life-changing journey in search of Mr Kurtz has the simplicity of great myth.


The Rainbow is perhaps DH Lawrence’s finest work, showing him for the radical, protean, thoroughly modern writer he was.


This portrait of a day in the lives of three Dubliners remains a towering work, in its word play surpassing even Shakespeare.



Woolf’s great novel makes a day of party preparations the canvas for themes of lost love, life choices and mental illness.




Fitzgerald’s jazz age masterpiece has become a tantalising metaphor for the eternal mystery of art.
You pays yer money, and you takes yer choice.

Wednesday, November 30, 2022

Book Review 023 / The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain



Huckleberry Finn 

by Mark Twain 

1884/5



 Alive at 100



Norman Mailer
9 December 1984

Is there a sweeter tonic for the doldrums than old reviews of great novels? In 19th-century Russia, ''Anna Karenina'' was received with the following: ''Vronsky's passion for his horse runs parallel to his passion for Anna'' . . . ''Sentimental rubbish'' . . . ''Show me one page,'' says The Odessa Courier, ''that contains an idea.'' ''Moby-Dick'' was incinerated: ''Graphic descriptions of a dreariness such as we do not remember to have met with before in marine literature'' . . . ''Sheer moonstruck lunacy'' . . . ''Sad stuff. Mr. Melville's Quakers are wretched dolts and drivellers and his mad captain is a monstrous bore.''

Friday, November 4, 2022

A Dog's Tale by Mark Twain







A DOG'S TALE
by Mark Twain



CHAPTER I.



My father was a St. Bernard, my mother was a collie, but I am a Presbyterian. This is what my mother told me, I do not know these nice distinctions myself. To me they are only fine large words meaning nothing. My mother had a fondness for such; she liked to say them, and see other dogs look surprised and envious, as wondering how she got so much education. But, indeed, it was not real education; it was only show: she got the words by listening in the dining-room and drawing-room when there was company, and by going with the children to Sunday-school and listening there; and whenever she heard a large word she said it over to herself many times, and so was able to keep it until there was a dogmatic gathering in the neighborhood, then she would get it off, and surprise and distress them all, from pocket-pup to mastiff, which rewarded her for all her trouble. If there was a stranger he was nearly sure to be suspicious, and when he got his breath again he would ask her what it meant. And she always told him. He was never expecting this but thought he would catch her; so when she told him, he was the one that looked ashamed, whereas he had thought it was going to be she. The others were always waiting for this, and glad of it and proud of her, for they knew what was going to happen, because they had had experience. When she told the meaning of a big word they were all so taken up with admiration that it never occurred to any dog to doubt if it was the right one; and that was natural, because, for one thing, she answered up so promptly that it seemed like a dictionary speaking, and for another thing, where could they find out whether it was right or not? for she was the only cultivated dog there was. By and by, when I was older, she brought home the word Unintellectual, one time, and worked it pretty hard all the week at different gatherings, making much unhappiness and despondency; and it was at this time that I noticed that during that week she was asked for the meaning at eight different assemblages, and flashed out a fresh definition every time, which showed me that she had more presence of mind than culture, though I said nothing, of course. She had one word which she always kept on hand, and ready, like a life-preserver, a kind of emergency word to strap on when she was likely to get washed overboard in a sudden way—that was the word Synonymous. When she happened to fetch out a long word which had had its day weeks before and its prepared meanings gone to her dump-pile, if there was a stranger there of course it knocked him groggy for a couple of minutes, then he would come to, and by that time she would be away down wind on another tack, and not expecting anything; so when he'd hail and ask her to cash in, I (the only dog on the inside of her game) could see her canvas flicker a moment—but only just a moment—then it would belly out taut and full, and she would say, as calm as a summer's day, “It's synonymous with supererogation,” or some godless long reptile of a word like that, and go placidly about and skim away on the next tack, perfectly comfortable, you know, and leave that stranger looking profane and embarrassed, and the initiated slatting the floor with their tails in unison and their faces transfigured with a holy joy.

10 of the Best Novels and Short Stories about Dogs

Picasso


10 of the Best Novels and Short Stories about Dogs

Novelists and short-story writers have created some classic narratives about man’s best friend, the dog. But what are the very best stories and novels about dogs? Where should we begin in assessing the classic, canonical literature that features dogs?

From Homer’s Odyssey onwards – where the hero’s faithful hound remembered him upon his return to Ithaca – the annals of literature are full of famous literary dogs. Here are ten of the best works of fiction to feature our four-legged friends.

1. Mark Twain, A Dog’s Tale.

My father was a St. Bernard, my mother was a collie, but I am a Presbyterian. This is what my mother told me, I do not know these nice distinctions myself. To me they are only fine large words meaning nothing. My mother had a fondness for such; she liked to say them, and see other dogs look surprised and envious, as wondering how she got so much education …

This 1903 tale is one of several stories on this list which are told from the dog’s perspective. The dog in question is sold to a new owner and is sad to leave her mother behind, but the family she goes to live with are kind to her. One day, a fire breaks out in the nursery of the house – and the dog comes to the rescue …




2. Eleanor Atkinson, Greyfriars Bobby.

Bobby slipped out, dry as his own delectable bone, from under the tomb of Mistress Jean Grant, and nearly wagged his tail off with pleasure. Mistress Jeanie was set in a proud flutter when the Grand Leddy rang at the lodge kitchen and asked if she and Bobby could have their tea there with the old couple by the cozy grate fire …

Perhaps the most famous novel ever written about a dog, Greyfriars Bobby (1912) is a Scottish tale about the faithfulness of dogs towards their owners. Written from the perspective of the Skye terrier which gives the novel its title, the novel also features Auld Jock, Bobby’s owner, who has a close bond with his pet terrier.

When (spoiler alert) Jock dies, Bobby refuses to leave his master’s side, even when Jock is buried. Bobby ends up guarding Jock’s grave, by day and night, thus neatly symbolising the two main features associated with dogs: fidelity and vigilance.

3. O. Henry, ‘Memoirs of a Yellow Dog’.

But you needn’t look for any stuck-up literature in my piece, such as Bearoo, the bear, and Snakoo, the snake, and Tammanoo, the tiger, talk in the jungle books. A yellow dog that’s spent most of his life in a cheap New York flat, sleeping in a corner on an old sateen underskirt (the one she spilled port wine on at the Lady Longshoremen’s banquet), mustn’t be expectcd to perform any tricks with the art of speech …

In this 1903 story from one of America’s greatest writers of the short story, the yellow dog of the story’s title recounts his life, his owners, and his love for his master (and his dislike for his master’s wife). Man and dog really do have a stronger bond in this story than man and wife – but we won’t spoil the ending …

4. Rudyard Kipling, ‘Garm – a Hostage’.

First published in 1899, this short story from the writer who also gave us the poem ‘The Power of the Dog’ – tells of a man whose friend gives him a bull-terrier as a ‘hostage’. However, ‘Garm’ – the name the narrator gives to his newly acquired dog – misses his original owner, who visits his beloved terrier on a regular basis. This is another tale tinged with sadness, but shot through with the strong bond between a man and his dog.






5. Jack London, The Call of the Wild.

The 100 best novels / No 35 / The Call of the Wild by Jack London (1903)


London (1876-1916) was the first writer to become a millionaire from his writing, and although he wrote a vast number of different books including an early dystopian novel (The Iron Heel) and a novel set in the days of early man (Before Adam), he is best-known for his two short novels set in the Yukon Territory in Canada during the Gold Rush, The Call of the Wild (1903) and White Fang (1906).

The first of these is probably the most famous and widely read, and focuses on a dog which is stolen from its home in California and made to work as a sled-dog in the snowy wilds of Alaska. As the novel’s title suggests, The Call of the Wild is about the canine protagonist’s transition from a life among civilisation to the relative freedom he finds among the wilderness of the Yukon.


6. Virginia Woolf, Flush: A Biography.

Although it’s subtitled A Biography, this short 1933 book is as much fiction as non-fiction. However, its subject was real enough: the Victorian poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s pet dog. The cocker spaniel, Flush, is acquired by Barrett Browning and taken from the countryside to London, where he lives among the London literati before travelling out with the Brownings to Italy. This is Woolf’s funniest book, and although it’s wildly different from The Waves or Mrs Dalloway, it shows off her distinctive modernist style.




7. Franz Kafka, Investigations of a Dog by Franz Kafka.

Midnight Madness / Franz Kafka’s “Investigations of a Dog: And Other Creatures”


Kafka is a master of the weird, the unusual, the not-quite-right, his stories and novels haunting us long after we have finished reading them. And although he’s well-known for longer works like The Castle and The Trial, he was also a master of the short story form, including the long short story (witness his masterpiece, ‘The Metamorphosis’).

"Investigations of a Dog" (German: "Forschungen eines Hundes") is a short story by Franz Kafka written in 1922. It was published posthumously in Beim Bau der Chinesischen Mauer (Berlin, 1931). The first English translation by Willa and Edwin Muir was published by Martin Secker in London in 1933. It appeared in The Great Wall of China. Stories and Reflections (New York City: Schocken Books, 1946). Told from the perspective of a dog, the story concerns the nature and limits of knowledge, by way of the dog's inquiries into the practices of his culture.

"Investigations of a Dog" was written in September and October 1922, soon after Kafka ended work on his unfinished novel The Castle. Similar to other Kafka stories such as "A Report to an Academy", "Josephine the Singer", and "The Burrow", the protagonist is an animal.

The unnamed narrator, a dog, recounts a number of episodes from its past, in which it used quasi-scientific and rational methods to resolve basic questions of its existence that most of its peers were content to leave unanswered, such as: "Whence does the Earth procure its food?".

Many of the seemingly absurd descriptions employed by the narrator express its misapprehension or confusion about the world, centering on dogkind's apparent inability to realize (or, some passages suggest, unwillingness to acknowledge) the existence of their human masters: the narrator is shocked into scientific investigation by witnessing seven dogs standing on their hind legs and performing to music (a troupe of circus or performing animals), and spends much time investigating "soaring dogs", tiny dogs lacking legs who silently exist above the heads of normal dogs while sometimes constantly talking nonsense, and what actions or rituals summon forth food.




8. Richard Adams, The Plague Dogs.

Everyone knows of Watership Down, Adams’ bestselling 1972 novel about a group of rabbits, but his 1977 novel The Plague Dogs is not as well-known. The novel focuses on Rowf and Snitter, two dogs which escape from a government research station in the Lake District in northern England.

They survive among the wilds of Cumbria, which Adams describes with great power and skill, but there’s a price on their backs – especially as it’s feared they may be carrying a deadly strain of plague which they acquired at the research station …

9. Philip K. Dick, ‘Roog’.

This story was written in 1951, and is an early work by the prolific science-fiction author – and a patron saint of the counterculture – Philip K. Dick (1928-82), best-known for writing the novel that inspired the film Blade Runner as well as other classic novels and stories such as ‘The Minority Report’ (also made into a film) and for the alternative-history novel, The Man in the High Castle.

This is another story told from the point of view of a dog. Boris believes the garbage-men who come to collect the trash from his owner’s house are aliens invading from another planet. He calls the strange creatures ‘Roogs’, but his attempts to warn his owners about the alien invasion are futile. But Dick leaves enough doubt in our minds that the dog may, after all, be right, and the ‘garbage-men’ may not be all they seem – as usual with Dick’s fiction, our understanding of reality and everything we take for granted is given a good shake.




10. Mark Haddon, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time.

Perhaps no pick of the best novels and stories about dogs could be without this more recent example, this 2003 mystery novel loosely inspired by the Sherlock Holmes adventures and featuring a teenage protagonist, Christopher, who goes in search of the neighbour’s missing dog. Although people tend to assume that Christopher has Asperger’s, Haddon has refuted this, and the book makes no reference to it. Instead, as Haddon has said in a blog post, the novel is about being an outsider.

INTERESTING LITERATURE


Wednesday, September 29, 2021

The retreats where famous authors found inspiration – in pictures




The French Polynesian island of Tetiaroa, where former US president Barack Obama plans to write his memoir.

The retreats where famous authors found inspiration – in pictures




The small hut where Mark Twain brought Huckleberry Finn to life on a farm in Elmira, New York,
now housed on a college campus


The Elephant House cafe in Edinburgh, Scotland, one of the cafes
in which JK Rowling wrote the first Harry Potter novel

The wooden shed at the Boat House in Laugharne, Wales, where Dylan Thomas worked

The Writing Lodge in the garden at Monk’s House in England,
was the writer Virginia Woolf’s country home and retreat

The Goldeneye estate in Jamaica where Ian Fleming wrote the bulk of his James Bond novels

A replica of the hut that Henry David Thoreau built himself to write in near Walden pond
In Concord, Massachusetts

The house in Key West, Florida, where Ernest Hemingway did some of his best work,
including To Have And Have Not

The sitting room at South Cottage at Sissinghurst Castle,
the retreat of Harold Nicolson and Vita Sackville-West

Isolated Barnhill House on the Scottish island of Jura
where George Orwell wrote Nineteen Eighty-Four

George Bernard Shaw’s rotating shed in St Alban’s, England,
which he built so he could always face the sun while writing his plays




THE GUARDIAN



Thursday, August 2, 2018

The 10 best… closing lines of books


James Joyce

The 10 best… closing lines of books

The most memorable literary payoffs, from the chilling to the poetic

Robert McCrum
Sunday 29 July 2012




The Great Gatsby by F Scott Fitzgerald

"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."

Fitzgerald hypnotises successive generations of readers with this tale. Nick Carraway's signing off after the death of Gatsby is my favourite last line in the Anglo-American tradition – resonant, memorable and profound. It hovers between poetry and the vernacular and is the magnificent chord, in a minor key, which brings this 20th-century masterpiece to a close. Somehow, it sums up the novel completely, in tone as much as meaning, while giving the reader a way out into the drabber, duller world of everyday reality.


Ulysses by James Joyce

"I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another… then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes."

Joyce is the master of the closing line and this is his most famous and most suggestive. Compare it with the end of The Dead, his short story that concludes Dubliners: "His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead."


Middlemarch by George Eliot

"But the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive: for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs."

Middlemarch is many readers' favourite Eliot novel, with so many quotable passages. This passage is almost a credo – a lovely, valedictory celebration of Dorothea's quiet life, after she has renounced Casaubon's fortune and confessed her love for Ladislaw.



Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad

"The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds, and the tranquil waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed sombre under an overcast sky – seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness."

Conrad's merciless short novel (fewer than 40,000 words) opens on the Thames and ends there, too. The last line of Marlowe's astounding confession is an admission of his complicity in the terrible events he has just described as a reluctant witness. It also executes a highly effective narrative diminuendo in an extraordinary fictional nightmare. Compare George Orwell's chilling return to the status quo in another nightmare, Nineteen Eighty Four: "He loved Big Brother."



The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain

"But I reckon I got to light out for the Territory ahead of the rest, because Aunt Sally she's going to adopt me and sivilize me and I can't stand it. I been there before." 

This is a heartbreaker. Twain rounds off his masterpiece by saying that Huck Finn is fated, like all Americans, to an incessant quest for the challenge of the frontier. For sheer teenage disaffection, it's matched by the last line ofCatcher in the Rye: "Don't tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody." And also from the US, let's not forget Margaret Mitchell's ending to Gone With the Wind: "After all, tomorrow is another day." Pure hokum, like the novel.


To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf

"Yes, she thought, laying down her brush in extreme fatigue, I have had my vision." 

And she has. Lily's closing words complete the circle of consciousness.Virginia Woolf was good at last lines and was always a decisive closer. Mrs Dalloway, whose first line famously has Woolf's protagonist buying the flowers herself, ends with: "It is Clarissa, he said. For there she was." That's the perfect conclusion, to a nervy climax, nailed in nine words.


Catch-22 by Joseph Heller

"The knife came down, missing him by inches, and he took off." 

The spirit of Bugs Bunny inspires the finale of Yossarian's adventures with 256th Squadron. It's the moment in which Yossarian, who has been in thrall to Catch-22 throughout, finally breaks away. Yossarian has come to realise that Catch-22 does not actually exist, but because the powers that be claim it does, and the world believes it does, it nevertheless has potent effects. Indeed, because it does not exist, there is no way it can be repealed, undone, overthrown, or denounced. But here, finally, he can become free.


Speak Memory by Vladimir Nabokov

"There, in front of us, where a broken row of houses stood between us and the harbour, and where the eye encountered all sorts of stratagems, such as pale-blue and pink underwear cakewalking on a clothesline, or a lady's bicycle and a striped cat oddly sharing a rudimentary balcony of cast iron, it was most satisfying to make out among the jumbled angles of roofs and walls, a splendid ship's funnel, showing from behind the clothesline as something in a scrambled picture – Find What the Sailor Has

A brilliant, and moving, mixture of perception and reality. Contrast the incoherent end of William Burroughs's Naked Lunch, "No got … C'lom Fliday."



Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë

"I lingered round them, under that benign sky; watched the moths fluttering among the heath, and hare-bells; listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass; and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth."

Brontë's masterpiece is often cited for its gothic morbidity and intoxicating romantic darkness, but here – stepping back from the tragedy of Heathcliff and Catherine – the novel displays an acute evocation of Yorkshire combined with memorable poetic grandeur. This note of redemption promises a better future in the union of Cathy and Hareton.



The Tale of Samuel Whiskers by Beatrix Potter

"But Tom Kitten has always been afraid of a rat; he never durst face anything bigger than – A Mouse."

Children's books should not be overlooked. Potter earns her slot with this chilling, but playful, ending to a spine-tingler by a writer who loved to explore the world of juvenile suspense. Perhaps in honour of the late Maurice Sendak we should also mention "And it was still warm", the payoff to Where the Wild Things Are. And JK Rowling has a well-earned closer toHarry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: "The scar had not pained Harry for 19 years. All was well."