BookJumper

I dread books that are written entirely in the first person, occasionally I'll come across a good one (in The Blue Girl for instance, Charles de Lint perfectly captures the way in which his young - intelligent and different and special but still young for all that - characters would think and speak) but in general, I tend to find them affectated, self-satisfied and largely inconsistent in tone. I much prefer the subjective third person, I.e. when an author manages to convey a character(s)' point of view throughout a novel or section without flattening* the storytelling into first person narration. * I know others will disagree that this is what the first person does to narration; personally however I find it to be so, because you then lose effects as omniscient foreshadowing / flashbacking etc., which expertly combined with subjective first person can create a richness of perspective which I have rarely found in first person viewpoint.

May I wholeheartedly recommend Keith Miller's The Book of Flying as the most gorgeously written fantasy book I have ever read? I think it should be compulsory reading for any aspiring genre author; it's one of those books which, as an (unpublished) writer, I just wish I had written myself.

New, shiny, gripping questions (from The Reading Club): Does the book challenge the stereotypes of its genre [gothic] in any way? Does it break the mould? Do you feel that it was dated well? What kind of person would you recommend this book to? Do you agree with the reviews of the book you've read? How well do the book’s cover and synopsis of your edition represent the book? Do they suit the story / do it justice? If you were writing a sequel, what would you plan for the characters? From Suite 101: Which character does the author feel the strongest affinity with and why? Which character does the author hate the most and how does the reader know that? How does the author feel about existence and life? Does the author ultimately give hope to the human condition? How does the reader see that through the novel? Expect my own views & musings very shortly - in the meantime, what d'y'all think?

New, shiny, gripping questions coming up in a new, shiny, gripping post in just a minute (you didn't really think I'd abandon you, now did you?) but first, let me take up some of you guys' excellent points: I think that's precisely it, Jen - we're not told because knowing wouldn't (shouldn't...?) make a difference to our feelings about the story and characters. If pressed though, I'll say I'd like to think that the gothic fairy tale has its happy ending: traditional fairy tales usually achieve one no matter the amount of blood and tears shed in the intervening pages (just think of the ogre princesses who had their throats accidentally slit by their father in Tom Thumb, or the pit of snakes and venomous frogs the prince's mother tried sending Sleeping Beauty and her children into!), so I like to imagine that Merricat and Constance did live out the rest of their days in (their definition of) happiness. I hadn't looked at her that way; admittedly she is very strong - in an unobtrusive way, which has a realer quality to it than brute, pushy strengtht. Thanks for helping me see that, Ooshie. Out of interest, what would those be ? I love gothic fiction and this latest delve into the genre didn't disappoint, so I'd be glad to scout out any good ones I might have missed! I think so - it seems to me like she wanted to protect herself and those of the family who she didn't perceive as being against her from those she did consider a threat. I on the other hand found her fascinating, but then I've always had a penchant for weirdness of character, and being prone to seemingly pointless daydreaming myself I found myself mesmerised by her bizarre inner life. I felt for her, and wished life was as easy as wishing yourself on the moon to escape from pain. A mental institution was my guess, too - obviously detached from reality, she likely went to far with her defiance of rules other than her own at one point, causing her father to suggest she be sent away to be 'cured'. Her mother, though she protested against the idea, could have done more to actively protect her, and therefore (in Merricat's view) was no less dangerous than her father. The motive for the murder would then be at least understandable, given that the methods still around in the 1960s must have sounded like unadulterated torture, particularly for a teenager with the mind of a child who just wanted to live insider her own head. I'm normally not a fan of loose endings, but they didn't bother me here because I took it as a fairytale / fable / parable / allegory rather than a straightforward narrative novel.

My mum's famous rice salad (tuna, capers, gerkins, cucumber, tomatoes, peppers and mayonnaise).

I like being right when it helps create another Mizzie your update makes me happy. D'you reckon I'd like this one my dearest? It sounds intriguing.

Remy, I'm afraid I fail to understand your position on this matter. First off you say the literaryness of Lindqvist could be putting zombie book readers right off him; then you claim lots of zombie novels deal in subtexts, which - correct me if I'm wrong - are a literary device. Personally, I haven't read many books on zombies that I can even remember the title of, precisely because I'm after subtext over gore. Handling the Undead looks promising, because it looks like the grown-up version of Daniel Waters's clever Generation Dead YA series, as does Brains: A Zombie Memoir by Robin Becker, which themewise reminds me of Shelley's Frankenstein. In general however, though I have read zombie books aplenty (pretty much 80% of my reading material during my teenage years was horror), most of them so far have sadly been forgettable. Also *puts Mod hat on* - first of all, play nice; sarkiness doesn't often win friends, nevermind readers. Secondly, not everything needs to connect back to your book, even if it is a discussion about the genre it fits into, and to be honest this isn't even that, as technically it's a place for thoughts on Lindqvist's novel and there is a thread in this section devoted to more general Zombie Book Recommendations. I am sure you are a voracious reader with much to contribute on other areas of the forum, so please do take the time to get out of your comfort zone, explore and contribute.

Oooh! Can we go dressed as Glinda & Elphie - I don't mind being either - with, like, ballgown/cape, crown/pointy hat, wand/broom, facepaint and whatnot?! Breaking news: I have just discovered what may well be one of the awesomest musicals ever. Thank you, , for introducing me to Man of La Mancha - I.e. Don Quixote, the Musical, class of 1965. While I haven't read Don Quixote yet, I've always been fascinated by the idealism in the face of so-called reality that it represents, and it seems to me like this may be another Les Mis-like case, where a book too long and complex to be captured properly on film finds its best adaptation through the emotionally concentrated medium of song. Just consider the sheer stunningness of these words:To dream the impossible dream, to fight the unbeatable foe To bear with unbearable sorrow, to run where the brave dare not go To right the unrightable wrong, to love pure and chaste from afar To try when your arms are too weary to reach the unreachable star. This is my quest, to follow that star No matter how hopeless, no matter how far To fight for the right without question or pause To be willing to march into Hell for that heavenly cause And I know if I'll only be true to this glorious quest That my heart will lie peaceful and calm when I'm laid to my rest And the world will be better for this: that one man, scorned and covered in scars Still strove with his last ounce of courage to reach the unreachable star. 1...2...3... *bawls eyes out*!

It's interesting that we have the same favourite scene; maybe that says something about how significant for character development that scene truly is? While I agree that Constance is rather wishy-washy - to me, she made sense only as the object of Merricat's and (when lucid) Julian's affection, as opposed to a character in her own right - I wasn't that bothered by how little time it took Charles to influence her. It would have annoyed me in a more conventional, realistic novel; We Have Always Lived in the Castle though struck me as a fairytale, and we all know that in fairytales the maid is usually married to the prince within a day or two of having met the bloke. This is of course not a traditional tale of maids and princes, but the generalised feel of the background against which the main characters are pitted ('the villagers' were to me a single character, like a monster with far too many heads; even the dead Blackwoods had more substance than them) put me in mind of the vague 'rogues and villains' which - unlike the hero(ine)s - we can get by knowing next to nothing about. Like you, I quickly got tired of Merricat being chilled. I was, however, affected by her visalising people dead - which I freely admit to often having done when ostracised and ridiculed as she was at her age - and fantasising about going to the moon - which seemed to me like such a heartbreakingly poignant way of expressing just how much she longs to feel safe at last. I also thought I spotted a reference to Ariosto's Orlando Furioso (my favourite epic poem), where Orlando's friend flies on the back of a hippogriff to the moon, where all the things that are lost on Earth end up, to find the sanity that Orlando had mislaid following a love disappointment. Before a flying horse, Merricat had wanted a griffin (which is related to the hyppogriff), and it seems to me like she felt that (because everything on Earth was so strange, horrible and painful to her) the moon may well be the place to regain sanity and happiness. My inner Curious George would also like to know more about the arsenic murder. That said, I think Jackson was trying to pass on the message that what happened didn't actually matter, because no one should be treated the way the Blackwoods were by the villagers - guilty or no.

Univerze - thanks for the understanding & cuddles, they are most welcome so much so, I may almost forgive your murderous tendencies Raven - you know what, I've only ever had The Hobbit read to me when I was little and I remember, well, little about it, so that's one for the list *makes mental & hardcopy note*. Nienna - thanks for the suggestion but 'relationships and actually quite a lot of sex... nothing ideal or lovely at all' just will not do I'm afraid, in fact that'd be equally bad for me, just in a different way. I thank you for the warning, because it had always intrigued

... it's rather the opposite I'm afraid; my real life experience of the subject is pretty painful and tangled at present so I don't really care to read about anybody else's painful entanglement, nor do I want to read about anybody else's happy ending. Books are what I come to in order to expect reality, so the last thing I want is to be reminded of real life as it is, or should be. Thanks to everyone who came up with suggestions all of your efforts are very much appreciated. I've looked them all up and: Pixie - a few of the ones you mentioned do seem like they have romance elements in them, and Ray Bradbury is already one of my favourites. However - The Stolen Child, Otherwise, The Fith Head of Cerberus and A Canticle for Lebowitz do sound perfect ! Pickle - I haven't read UnLunDun or Kraken yet but definitely want to try them both, probably dipping my toe in with ULD first. Skulduggery Pleasant does intrigue me but isn't it an enormous series (neither my finances nor my shelfspace like those)? Univerze - I've already read and loved War of the Worlds and my fair share of Jules Verne, but you do make a useful observation about classics vs. contemporary novels so I'll see if my sprawling classics wishlist contains anything un-romantic looking. I do like King and have been meaning to try The Dark Tower for ages so that's definitely one to keep in mind, provided I can find the first volume in a decent edition which won't fall apart on me. Michelle - Apartment 16 doesn't sound like my sort of thing I'm afraid, I like my horror to have a social interest (think Frankenstein, Carrie etc.). Kell - unfortunately I'm a terrible betrayer of my name and ancestry, and for some reason really dislike Roman history:lurker: I'm also not keen on whodunnits, which is even weirder considering that I devour everything crime-y on the telly. The Discworld books I'm already familiar with and adore.

As promised, my hard-pondered answers: 1. Who was your favourite character and why? Uncle Julian. I found him both funny and tender in his extremes. When he railed on passionately about the day of the murder he reminded me (in a good way, is there any other?) of Tim Curry's crime-solving butler in Clue, the film of the boardgame; when he starts forgetting people and things, he fills my heart with sadness - yet (like Merricat) I am happy that he has someone to look after him so lovingly. 2. Was there a particular part you enjoyed / disliked more than the rest? So far, my favourite bit would have to be Helen Clarke and Mrs. Wright's visit; the separate but related conversations (between Constance / Helene Clarke and Uncle Julian / Mrs. Wright) were handled really masterfully: almost with no need for speech indicators (I.e. 'he / she said'), each character had enough of an individual voice to be immediately recognisable. The scene crowded my head with sounds and made me giddy, which I find all the more impressive because I have next to visualisation skills - I mostly think in lines of typed text, and therefore usually find it really hard to visualise what I'm reading. 3. Was this the first book you've read in this genre / by this author, has it encouraged you to read more? Although this is by no means the first work of gothic fiction I've read, it is the first by Shirley Jackson. I am enjoying it immensely, and would definitely give anything else of hers a go. 4. Were there any parts / ideas you struggled with? During Merricat's walking game through the village at the beginning, it seemed to me like the Rochester house couldn't decide what side of the street it was on, which vexed me because I like to be able to have a blueprint of locations in my head. 5. Overall, was reading the book an enjoyable experience? I'm finding it exceptional in a refreshingly simple - yet not so simple as it may first seem - way, so definitely. a. Did you learn something you didn't know before? I've learnt that you can far more easily kill someone with the produce from your vegetable patch than with traditional poisoning, and that therefore arsenic is a silly way of offing people. b. Do you feel as if your views on a subject have changed / have you had life changing revelation reading this text? No - I think I am liking it so much because it speaks to feelings and opinions about the toleration of the other which are already within me. c. What major emotion did the story evoke in you? Compassion - I find myself wishing I could shelter the Blackwoods from the unrelenting judgment of the outside world. d. At what point did you decide if you liked the book or not? It drew me in pretty much immediately, with its balance of dark themes and joyful use of language. e. If you could change anything, what would it be and why? Even though I think it's intentional - Jackson doesn't really repeat herself otherwise - the constant use of the sentence 'I was chilled' niggles at me - Merricat's chilled, we get it, enough's enough.

Shirley Jackson does seem to use the sentence 'I was chilled' a lot. I think it's intentional, but still... please. no. repetition bad.

My spirit will care. Besides, the web might be a faster medium than paper, but it certainly isn't the most productive tool for the consulting of a dictionary. How does one speculatively browse an online dictionary is what I'd like to know.

As a scholar, linguist and translator, I am frankly horrified. While I may not have the space, or the money, that would allow me to personally splash on the full OED, it would be crippling for me if it weren't even available from the library should I desperately need to consult it. The very thought is enough to give me nightmares.

I'll fourth Jasper Fforde, and point you in the direction of his predecessors in learned funnyness while I'm at it: - Douglas Adams, [The Increasingly Inaccurately Named Trilogy of Five] The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Terry Pratchett, Discworld series (they can be read in pretty much any order; my personal favourites are Wyrd Sisters - a parody of Shakespearean tragedy; Maskerade - a parody of The Phantom of the Opera; and Soul Music - about Rock'n'Roll).

Frankenstein hands down - beautiful, relevant and inspiring, it's a book that has made me sob, shout and physically feel anguish each of the several times I've read it. Even if by some bizarre, inexplicable twist of fate you should hate it, rest assured that one way or another you simply cannot be indifferent to it, so the coursework just writes itself when Frankenstein's your subject.

*tears hair out* good question. I do actually need to think on mine, so you guys will be the first to know should I make any progress in that direction all I know so far is that at some point or other there will be included the line - because I have already promised that it will be so - 'For crisp-packet readers everywhere.'

Neverwhere is my favourite Gaiman book by far, and one of my favourite books - period. Buy it yesterday is my advice to you.

Note: NO SPOILER TAGS NEEDED IN THIS THREAD. It is assumed that everyone will have read the book before joining in on the discussion,* so you may dissect plot twists to your heart's content. * except me, unfortunately - I'm currently halfway through and sailing forth at unprecedented speed - but don't worry about ruining anything for me; in fact, I am finding this the kind of book where atmosphere and characters matter far more than any plotline, so in a sense it makes no difference to me how it actually ends. We Have Always Lived in The Castle by Shirley Jackson Synopsis from Amazon: Visitors call seldom at Blackwood House. Taking tea at the scene of a multiple poisoning, with a suspected murderess as one's host, is a perilous business. For a start, the talk tends to turn to arsenic. "It happened in this very room, and we still have our dinner in here every night," explains Uncle Julian, continually rehearsing the details of the fatal family meal. "My sister made these this morning," says Merricat, politely proffering a plate of rum cakes, fresh from the poisoner's kitchen. We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Shirley Jackson's 1962 novel, is full of a macabre and sinister humor, and Merricat herself, its amiable narrator, is one of the great unhinged heroines of literature. "What place would be better for us than this?" she asks, of the neat, secluded realm she shares with her uncle and with her beloved older sister, Constance. "Who wants us, outside? The world is full of terrible people." Merricat has developed an idiosyncratic system of rules and protective magic, burying talismanic objects beneath the family estate, nailing them to trees, ritually revisiting them. She has made "a powerful taut web which never loosened, but held fast to guard us" against the distrust and hostility of neighboring villagers. Or so she believes. But at last the magic fails. A stranger arrives--cousin Charles, with his eye on the Blackwood fortune. He disturbs the sisters' careful habits, installing himself at the head of the family table, unearthing Merricat's treasures, talking privately to Constance about "normal lives" and "boy friends." Unable to drive him away by either polite or occult means, Merricat adopts more desperate methods. The result is crisis and tragedy, the revelation of a terrible secret, the convergence of the villagers upon the house, and a spectacular unleashing of collective spite. A few general questions to get us all revved up: 1. Who was your favourite character and why? 2. Was there a particular part you enjoyed / disliked more than the rest? 3. Was this the first book you've read in this genre / by this author, has it encouraged you to read more? 4. Were there any parts / ideas you struggled with? 5. Overall, was reading the book an enjoyable experience? A few more, borrowed from Book Club Queen.com: a. Did you learn something you didn't know before? b. Do you feel as if your views on a subject have changed / have you had life changing revelation reading this text? c. What major emotion did the story evoke in you? d. At what point did you decide if you liked the book or not? e. If you could change anything, what would it be and why? You shall have my own hard-pondered answers to these questions in the morning. In the meantime, I'm simply dying to hear your views so... get discussing, circlers!

Do you mean We Will Rock You, and if so how did you find it? I keep hearing nothing but bad things about it:lurker:! I fear I may be going through a Wicked phase, which will be long and prosperous if it plans to be anything like my Les Mis phase. I'm listening to pretty much nothing else at the moment and with every listen I discover something new to love. Idina Menzel is a goddess - and a very human one at that (I usually hate celebrities crying, but her 2004 Tony awards acceptance speech has me blubbering, she's practically sobbing through everybody's names, bless her little cotton socks) - and her scream of 'Fiyeeeeeeeeeero!' at the beginning of No Good Deed has gone on to replace Building the Barricades as my text message alert. Iwannagoseeitnow. ButIdonthavethemonies. *weeps loudly into hanky*

I'm glad you spoke out for all of us paper nerds, Noll. I myself like thick paper, cream if rough-cut or white otherwise. If paper is thick, rough-cut and odorous, so much the better. My hardback copy of King's Pet Semetary smells of '80s - I love that.

I'm impressed by your skill was it a very big mug, a very small book, or a combination of factors?

I don't actually think the book is aimed at hardboiled zombie fans; this to me looks like a sociological horror which uses 'monsters' to talk about very human issues, and I don't think someone looking for gore for gore's sake would think of that as their cup of tea.