I've made my peace with not getting to the end of my Century of Books by the end of 2014 - that's fine; the rules are very flexible - but I will bolster out the list with some of the others I have read which don't quite warrant a post to themselves, for one reason or another...
A Painted Veil (1925) by W. Somerset Maugham
I read this in the Lake District, and found it rather enthralling if a little overdramatic and a touch sententious. But it was borrowed from a friend, and I didn't blog about it before sending it back...
The Listerdale Mystery (1934) by Agatha Christie
This was part of my Christie binge earlier in the year, but slipped in just after my other Christie round-up. This is a collection of short stories, some of which were better than others. It also has one with a novelist who complains that adapted books are given terrible names like 'Murder Most Horrid' - which later happened to Christie herself, with Mrs McGinty's Dead.
It's Too Late Now (1939) by A.A. Milne
One day I'll write a proper review of this glorious book, one of my all-time favourites. It's AAM's autobiography and I've read it four or five times, but have left it too late this time to write a review that would do it justice. But I'm bound to re-read it, so we'll just wait til then, eh?
Summer in February (1995) by Jonathan Smith
This novel is an all-time favourite of my friend Carol's, and for that reason I feel like I should give it a proper review, but... well, it's already seeped out of my head, I think. It was a good and interesting account of the Newlyn painters. I didn't love it as much as Carol, but it was certainly well written and enjoyable.
The Blue Room (2000) by Hanne Ørstavik
I was going to review this Peirene translation for Shiny New Books, but I have to confess that I didn't like it at all. But was I ever going to like an X-rated novel about submission? Reader, I brought this upon myself.
Making It Up (2005) by Penelope Lively
I wasn't super impressed by my first Lively, I have to confess. I heard her speak about this book in 2005, so it was about time I read it - but it's a fairly disparate selection of short stories, tied together with the disingenuous notion that all of them have some vague resemblance to sections of Lively's life or people she saw once on the train. Having said that, some of the stories were very good - it just felt like the structure was rather weak. Still, I'm sure there are better Lively novels out there?
The Man Who Unleashed the Birds (2010) by Paul Newman
This biography of Frank Baker (author of Miss Hargreaves) has been on my on-the-go shelf for about four years, and I finally finished it! The awkward shape of the book was the main reason it stayed on the shelf, I should add; it wouldn't fit in my bag! It was a brilliantly researched biography, with all sorts of info I'd never have been able to find elsewhere - most particularly a fascinating section on his relationship (er, not that sort of relationship) with Daphne du Maurier after he'd accused her of plagiarising 'The Birds'.
Showing posts with label Maugham. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Maugham. Show all posts
Friday, 19 December 2014
Wednesday, 14 December 2011
Up At The Villa - W. Somerset Maugham
I'm trying to get through all the books I've read and not reviewed in 2011, so there will be a flurry of reviews over the next fortnight. Prepare yourselves!
A while ago I did one of my novella reading weekends, but I don't think I ever actually told you about it, before or afterwards. One of the books I read was my first stab at W. Somerset Maugham, only eight or so years since I first bought one of his books. Which wasn't the one I read. Up at the Villa (1941) came recommended by Simon Savidge (see links at the bottom) and is only 120pp - plus it has a lovely cover, so why not?
Up at the Villa is rather difficult to classify - in terms of length, it probably counts as a novella, but structurally it seems much more like a short story. There are all manner of attempts to define the short story, and I find a few quite helpful. Brander Matthews suggested over a century ago that "a short-story deals with a single character, a single event, a single emotion, or the series of single emotions called forth by a single situation." In 1979 Wendell Harris picked up on the same focal word in his definition: "single memorable curve of action revealing a single memorable personality." Poe wrote more vaguely, but sensibly, that the short story must have "unity of impression". All these definitions essentially suggest singularity - no room for interweaving plots, multiple focalisation, etc. etc. Of course, there are dozens of writers and hundreds of short stories which break these rules, but rather fewer novellas and novels which fit so neatly into the definition.
Up at the Villa doesn't take us far from beautiful young widow Mary Panton's perspective, nor from the events of a single momentous day. In the wake of her husband's death, Mary is living in a beautiful borrowed villa overlooking Florence. Her beauty is striking, she is privileged (if not quite opulent) and at the beginning of the novel she even receives a proposal from an older man who is soon to be Governor of Bengal. Not to mention the rakish attentions of Rowley Flint, who doesn't have marriage on his mind.
So where does this single memorable curve of action take us? It starts with one act of generosity:
I do love stories where one seemingly innocent action leads to a huge fallout. The only one which comes to mind right now is a broken cup in an episode of Flight of the Conchords, which probably isn't a seriously helpful example... but you know what I mean. I thought Maugham manipulated the situation well, and without contravening the personalities of the characters drawn at the beginning. Mary is impulsive and romantic and not always able to deal with the outcome of her actions, and this makes for a plot which snowballs out of her control - a touch melodramatically, but still within the realms of feasibility.
My only confusion is why it became a 120 page book. Most authors would have condensed it into thirty pages, or added more characters, more ideas, more occurrences - and another 120 pages. It might seem an odd thing to focus on, but Up at the Villa falls between two stools, which is difficult to ignore. What makes me want to return to Maugham, and try one of his more famous books, is that even with these reservations, I still found Up at the Villa a skillful, interesting read.
Others who got Stuck into it:
"Up at the Villa is a perfect book when you want something slightly familiar and yet something that completely throws you." - Simon, Savidge Reads
"The pacing of the story is excellent, starting off at the slow, languid speed that you might expect from a novel about the English upper classes in Italy and gradually speeding up until it feels almost out of control." - Old English Rose
"It’s a fine and entertaining diversion, and it’s got guns in, and sometimes that’s all we need" - John Self, The Asylum
A while ago I did one of my novella reading weekends, but I don't think I ever actually told you about it, before or afterwards. One of the books I read was my first stab at W. Somerset Maugham, only eight or so years since I first bought one of his books. Which wasn't the one I read. Up at the Villa (1941) came recommended by Simon Savidge (see links at the bottom) and is only 120pp - plus it has a lovely cover, so why not?
Up at the Villa is rather difficult to classify - in terms of length, it probably counts as a novella, but structurally it seems much more like a short story. There are all manner of attempts to define the short story, and I find a few quite helpful. Brander Matthews suggested over a century ago that "a short-story deals with a single character, a single event, a single emotion, or the series of single emotions called forth by a single situation." In 1979 Wendell Harris picked up on the same focal word in his definition: "single memorable curve of action revealing a single memorable personality." Poe wrote more vaguely, but sensibly, that the short story must have "unity of impression". All these definitions essentially suggest singularity - no room for interweaving plots, multiple focalisation, etc. etc. Of course, there are dozens of writers and hundreds of short stories which break these rules, but rather fewer novellas and novels which fit so neatly into the definition.Up at the Villa doesn't take us far from beautiful young widow Mary Panton's perspective, nor from the events of a single momentous day. In the wake of her husband's death, Mary is living in a beautiful borrowed villa overlooking Florence. Her beauty is striking, she is privileged (if not quite opulent) and at the beginning of the novel she even receives a proposal from an older man who is soon to be Governor of Bengal. Not to mention the rakish attentions of Rowley Flint, who doesn't have marriage on his mind.
So where does this single memorable curve of action take us? It starts with one act of generosity:
And, one thing leading to another, it does make a difference to a lot of lives. But I'm not going to reveal any more of the plot...They had dined late and soon after eleven the Princess called for her bill. When it grew evident that they were about to go, the violinist who had played to them came forward with a plate. There were a few coins on it from diners at other tables and some small notes. What they thus received was the band's only remuneration. Mary opened her bag."Don't bother", said Rowley. "I'll give him a trifle."He told a ten-lira note out of his pocket and put it on the plate."I'd like to give him something too", said Mary. She laid a hundred-lira note on the others. The man looked surprised, gave Mary a searching look, bowed slightly and withdrew."What on earth did you give him that for?" exclaimed Rowley. "That's absurd.""He plays so badly and he looks so wretched.""But they don't expect anything like that.""I know. That's why I gave it. It'll mean so much to him. It may make all the difference to his life."
I do love stories where one seemingly innocent action leads to a huge fallout. The only one which comes to mind right now is a broken cup in an episode of Flight of the Conchords, which probably isn't a seriously helpful example... but you know what I mean. I thought Maugham manipulated the situation well, and without contravening the personalities of the characters drawn at the beginning. Mary is impulsive and romantic and not always able to deal with the outcome of her actions, and this makes for a plot which snowballs out of her control - a touch melodramatically, but still within the realms of feasibility.
My only confusion is why it became a 120 page book. Most authors would have condensed it into thirty pages, or added more characters, more ideas, more occurrences - and another 120 pages. It might seem an odd thing to focus on, but Up at the Villa falls between two stools, which is difficult to ignore. What makes me want to return to Maugham, and try one of his more famous books, is that even with these reservations, I still found Up at the Villa a skillful, interesting read.
Others who got Stuck into it:
"Up at the Villa is a perfect book when you want something slightly familiar and yet something that completely throws you." - Simon, Savidge Reads
"The pacing of the story is excellent, starting off at the slow, languid speed that you might expect from a novel about the English upper classes in Italy and gradually speeding up until it feels almost out of control." - Old English Rose
"It’s a fine and entertaining diversion, and it’s got guns in, and sometimes that’s all we need" - John Self, The Asylum
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