Mum gave me Midsummer Night in the Workhouse as a cheer-up present a few months ago, and a Persephone book is (of course) always very, very welcome. One of my very favourite reads in 2013 was Diana Athill's memoir about being an editor, Stet (indeed, I claimed in Kim's Book Bloggers Advent Calendar that it was my favourite, but while compiling my list I remembered another which beat it - full top ten to be unveiled in January, donchaknow) so I thought it was about time that I read some of her fiction. Turns out there isn't that much of it, and she speaks quite disparagingly of the whole process in Somewhere Towards The End (which I'm reading at the moment; spoiler alert, it doesn't compare to Stet in my mind).
As my usual disclaimer, whenever I write about short stories - they're very difficult to write about. But they do seem the perfect medium for the expert editor, depending - as they do, more than any other fiction - upon precision and economy. And I thought (says he, being very brief) that Athill was very good at it. My favourite was probably 'The Return', about a couple of young women who are taken to an island by local 'tour guide' sailors - it was just so brilliantly structured, managing to be tense, witty, and wry at the same time. But the last line of 'Desdemona' was exceptionally good (and you know how I like my last lines to stories...)
My only complaint with the collection is that they are a bit too samey occasionally - which might be explained by the new preface, where Athill explains that she mostly wrote from her own experience. And her own experience seemed to be observing a fair amount of unsatisfactory marriages, and having a rather casual attitude towards marital fidelity (more on that when I get around to writing about Somewhere Towards The End.)
Her character and voice seem better established in her non-fiction, but this collection is certainly very good - and Persephone should be celebrated for collecting and publishing something which had been largely ignored in Athill's career. Hurrah for Persephone!
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Colin (yes, he blogs too, and apparently will be doing so more regularly in 2014) gave me Susan Hill's latest novella, Black Sheep (which was on my Amazon wishlist) for Christmas, and I read it on Boxing Day while laid up with that cold. I'm always so grateful that I gave Susan Hill's writing a second go, after being underwhelmed by the children's book I read first - and I have a special soft spot for the novellas which have been coming out over the past few years.
Those of you who follow Hill on Twitter, or remember her erstwhile blog, will know that she seems to finish a book in the time it takes most of us to boil a kettle. Well, more power to her, say I - and I've been impressed by The Beacon and A Kind Man. I hadn't realised that I read those in 2009 and 2011 - well, time flies, and perhaps Hill does pause for breath between books. Black Sheep is not only being marketed in a similar way, with equally lovely colours/image/format, but does - whether Hill has done this deliberately or not - belong in the same stable. The three novellas have definite differences, and possibly started from very different inspirations, but they also share a great deal - all three concern remote, almost isolated communities, the complicated lives of simple folk, and (it must be conceded) a fair dose of misery. Or perhaps just a dose of hardship, because the three novels all seem to come near to gratuitous misery, and then duck away.
Black Sheep takes place in a mining community in the past... I'm not sure how far in the past, or if we're told, but definitely an era when people rarely left their village and almost no outside-communication took place. The village (called 'Mount of Zeal') is divided into the pit, Lower Terrace, Middle Terrace, and Upper Terrace (known as Paradise). We follow the fortunes of one overcrowded family home as the children grow up. Who to marry, whether or not to get a job in the mine, how to cope with illness and grief - these are the overriding concerns of the different children and their parents - but these topics are less important than the way in which Hill writes about them, and the community they live in.
It is such a brilliant depiction of a village. Setting the community on the side of this hill, leading from Paradise to the hell of the mine, may seem like a heavy-handed metaphor - but more significant is the claustrophobia of the village from any vantage, whether in the pit or in the fanciest inspector's house. We follow perhaps the most important character, the youngest boy Ted, when he emerges from the village into the sheep-filled fields above - a journey seldom made by anybody, for some reason - and there is a palpable sense of narrative and readerly relief. Even while giving us characters we care about, Hill makes the whole atmosphere suffocating and, yes, claustrophobic.
Of these three novellas, I still think The Beacon is the best - but the setting of Black Sheep is probably the most accomplished. It lacks quite the brilliance of structure which Hill demonstrates elsewhere, and comes nearest to a Hardyesque piling on of unlikely misery, but that can't really dent the confident narrative achievement readers have come to expect from Hill. As a follow-on read from Ten Days of Christmas, it was a bit of a shock - but, if you're feeling emotionally brave, this triumvirate of novellas is definitely worth seeking out.
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And there you have it. No noticeable link between the two - but my Reading Presently challenge is finished! I realise it isn't as interesting for vicarious readers as A Century of Books, because (presumably) it makes no difference to you whether a reviewed book was a gift or a purchase, but I've enjoyed seeing what people have recommended over the years. At the very least, it has assuaged a fair amount of latent guilt! I still have at least 30 books people have given me, and I'll be prioritising a few for ACOB 2014, but I'll also enjoy indulging my own whims to a greater extent.
Appropriately enough, five of my Top Ten Books were gifts, and five were not - considering this year I read 50 books that were gifts and just over 50 that were not (finishing, because of DPhil, headaches, and new job, rather fewer books than usual). All will be revealed soon, as promised...