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Build your family tree on the go - MyHeritage genealogy puts your family history right at your...
Baby Boom! - My Newborn Sister
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~~> OMG! Mommy’s having a baby and you have to help her get to the hospital on time! ~~> The...
Moonly
Education, Lifestyle and Reference
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Full guide of lunar cycles & phases. Daily affirmations. Astrology zodiac charts Live by the moon...
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Silver Wood Coven: The Complete Series
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What if you had no memory, not even of being a witch? Rescued (Silver Wood Coven #1) Templar...
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Eilidh G Clark (177 KP) rated The Panopticon in Books
May 13, 2017
This is my all time favouurite book.
Jenny Fagan stated in an interview in 2013 that prior to writing the novel The Panopticon (2012) she had one question, ‘is it possible to achieve autonomy?’ Fagan explores this question throughout her novel with the character of Anais Hendrix. I would also suggest that the author is metaphorically exploring whether Scotland can achieve autonomy as an independent nation. Autonomy, in relation to the individual, is self-governance- or being able to decide for oneself
At the beginning of the novel, the fifteen-year old Anais is governed by the state. In contemporary British society, a child under the age of sixteen, regardless of her social situation is, by law, governed by an adult/s. Anais has lived her life in the care system with the exception of a short period in which she lived with an adopted mother. It is for this reason that she is able to see society from outside of the family unit. By creating the motherless child, Fagan presents Anais as the ‘other’ from both a societal perspective- ‘communities dinnae like no-ones,’ and from the viewpoint of the protagonist, ‘What they really want is me dead,’ (TP, p.23). Without a family, and through a lack of legitimate information regarding her birth mother, Anais believes that she was created in a lab:
I’M AN experiment. I always have been, It’s a given, a liberty, a fact. They watch me. Not just in school or social-work reviews, courts or police cells – they watch everywhere. […] They’re there when I stare too long or too clearly, without flinching. […] They watch me, I know it, and I can’t find anywhere any more – where they can’t see, (TP, Prologue).
Note that in the above quotation, the protagonist describes her assumed identity as a ‘liberty’. Liberty, in this case, means freedom from the oppressive nature of the family. Although Anais desires the nurturing aspect of the family, ‘I just want my mum,’ (Tp, p.269), her lack of family exposes her to the nature of contemporary society as a constant monitoring of civilians. In the above quotation, the repetition of ‘they’ suggests that she feels outside of the norm. The most important aspect of the above quote however, is that it is told from the protagonist’s thoughts. While Fagan gives Anais a certain amount of autonomy through both the first-person narrator, and the vernacular, the reliability of the narrator is increased by presenting the characters inner thoughts. While this limited autonomy is important, full autonomy is restricted by age. Bever suggests that ‘the capacity for individuals to become autonomous seems radically dependent on the contingent historical circumstances and societies into which they are born. Anais’ awareness of herself as the ‘other’ allows her an insight into the oppressive role of society, which is normally hindered in childhood due to the role of the family and it’s teaching of norms and values.
The sense of otherness can also be looked at in regard to Scotland and its role within the UK. The UK is a family of four countries under one state. Regardless of Scotland’s devolution, it has still to comply with a large amount of UK policies. Scotland has different values and goals to that of the UK making it ‘other’. With a different cultural identity to its neighbours, many Scottish citizens are seeking independence to protect its dwindling identity, whilst for others, independence is political.
Anais’ awareness of social control causes her a feeling of shrinking. This, according to her social workers is an identity problem:
Fifty odd moves, three different names, born in a nuthouse to a nobody that was never seen again. Identity problem? I dinnae have an identity problem – I dinnae have an identity, (TP, p.99).
Anais’ reaction in the above statement describes her lack of knowledge of her ancestry. I would argue that her identity is forced upon her from the fifty-one times that she has moved home, the care system, the solitary time in which she was adopted, the relationships she has had - both female and male, her friends but more importantly, from the unreliable account of her birth from the monk in the metal institution. The lack of family does not alter the fact that she is alive, and that all the fragments of her past make up an identity. For Anais, ‘Families are overrated […] ‘I umnay fooled. Not by families,’(TP, p.63-64). Like Anais, Scotland’s identity is ambiguous. Independence will allow Scotland political autonomy, however, within a global economy, Scotland still has limited autonomy. As culturally ‘other’ however, Scotland has already achieved autonomy with or without a state through its language, its people and its traditions.
Fagan demonstrates the difficulty of total autonomy though Anais and the birthday game, a game in which she creates her own identity. When she turns sixteen years of age, Anais is free from societal care and flees from her imprisonment, ‘I am Frances Jones from Paris. I am not a face on a missing-person poster, I am not a number or a statistic in a file. I have no-one watching me, […] I−begin today,’ (TP, p.323-324). ‘I’ suggests singularity and is still opposite to ‘them’ or ‘we’. Autonomy is therefore, ambiguous; Anais is still living within the same system under a false identity, she is therefore, segregated from everyone that she knows. Moreover, by changing Anais’ name to a name that ‘means freedom.’ (TP, p.323), Fagan is pointing out the difference between freedom and autonomy. Freedom is an emotive word, and there are two concepts of freedom – freedom from, which in Anais’ situation means freedom from the system of observation. Freedom to, however, is more problematic as Anais can never be free from the neoliberal system of rules and law – as Scotland would see in the case of independence. I would therefore conclude that Anais/Scotland has always has limited autonomy through cultural identity and history. I believe autonomy can only reside within the system through cultural and individual imagination and not out with it.
What does this mean for Scotland? If Scotland is part of the global community, can it become an autonomous nation? Is there a solution or should Anais/Scotland accept that cultural autonomy is imagined or self-contained. Can a collective identity and imagination change the political system? Finally, can culture survive without independence?
Bibliography
Crupp, Tyler, ‘Autonomy and Contemporary Political Theory’, in Encyclopaedia of Political Theory, ed. Mark Bevor (London: Sage Publications, 2010)
Fagan, Jenni, The Panopticon (London: Windmill Books, 2013), p.6.
Windmill Books. (2013). Granta Best Young British Novelist Jenni Fagan, . accessed 22 November 2015. Published on Apr 16, 2013
At the beginning of the novel, the fifteen-year old Anais is governed by the state. In contemporary British society, a child under the age of sixteen, regardless of her social situation is, by law, governed by an adult/s. Anais has lived her life in the care system with the exception of a short period in which she lived with an adopted mother. It is for this reason that she is able to see society from outside of the family unit. By creating the motherless child, Fagan presents Anais as the ‘other’ from both a societal perspective- ‘communities dinnae like no-ones,’ and from the viewpoint of the protagonist, ‘What they really want is me dead,’ (TP, p.23). Without a family, and through a lack of legitimate information regarding her birth mother, Anais believes that she was created in a lab:
I’M AN experiment. I always have been, It’s a given, a liberty, a fact. They watch me. Not just in school or social-work reviews, courts or police cells – they watch everywhere. […] They’re there when I stare too long or too clearly, without flinching. […] They watch me, I know it, and I can’t find anywhere any more – where they can’t see, (TP, Prologue).
Note that in the above quotation, the protagonist describes her assumed identity as a ‘liberty’. Liberty, in this case, means freedom from the oppressive nature of the family. Although Anais desires the nurturing aspect of the family, ‘I just want my mum,’ (Tp, p.269), her lack of family exposes her to the nature of contemporary society as a constant monitoring of civilians. In the above quotation, the repetition of ‘they’ suggests that she feels outside of the norm. The most important aspect of the above quote however, is that it is told from the protagonist’s thoughts. While Fagan gives Anais a certain amount of autonomy through both the first-person narrator, and the vernacular, the reliability of the narrator is increased by presenting the characters inner thoughts. While this limited autonomy is important, full autonomy is restricted by age. Bever suggests that ‘the capacity for individuals to become autonomous seems radically dependent on the contingent historical circumstances and societies into which they are born. Anais’ awareness of herself as the ‘other’ allows her an insight into the oppressive role of society, which is normally hindered in childhood due to the role of the family and it’s teaching of norms and values.
The sense of otherness can also be looked at in regard to Scotland and its role within the UK. The UK is a family of four countries under one state. Regardless of Scotland’s devolution, it has still to comply with a large amount of UK policies. Scotland has different values and goals to that of the UK making it ‘other’. With a different cultural identity to its neighbours, many Scottish citizens are seeking independence to protect its dwindling identity, whilst for others, independence is political.
Anais’ awareness of social control causes her a feeling of shrinking. This, according to her social workers is an identity problem:
Fifty odd moves, three different names, born in a nuthouse to a nobody that was never seen again. Identity problem? I dinnae have an identity problem – I dinnae have an identity, (TP, p.99).
Anais’ reaction in the above statement describes her lack of knowledge of her ancestry. I would argue that her identity is forced upon her from the fifty-one times that she has moved home, the care system, the solitary time in which she was adopted, the relationships she has had - both female and male, her friends but more importantly, from the unreliable account of her birth from the monk in the metal institution. The lack of family does not alter the fact that she is alive, and that all the fragments of her past make up an identity. For Anais, ‘Families are overrated […] ‘I umnay fooled. Not by families,’(TP, p.63-64). Like Anais, Scotland’s identity is ambiguous. Independence will allow Scotland political autonomy, however, within a global economy, Scotland still has limited autonomy. As culturally ‘other’ however, Scotland has already achieved autonomy with or without a state through its language, its people and its traditions.
Fagan demonstrates the difficulty of total autonomy though Anais and the birthday game, a game in which she creates her own identity. When she turns sixteen years of age, Anais is free from societal care and flees from her imprisonment, ‘I am Frances Jones from Paris. I am not a face on a missing-person poster, I am not a number or a statistic in a file. I have no-one watching me, […] I−begin today,’ (TP, p.323-324). ‘I’ suggests singularity and is still opposite to ‘them’ or ‘we’. Autonomy is therefore, ambiguous; Anais is still living within the same system under a false identity, she is therefore, segregated from everyone that she knows. Moreover, by changing Anais’ name to a name that ‘means freedom.’ (TP, p.323), Fagan is pointing out the difference between freedom and autonomy. Freedom is an emotive word, and there are two concepts of freedom – freedom from, which in Anais’ situation means freedom from the system of observation. Freedom to, however, is more problematic as Anais can never be free from the neoliberal system of rules and law – as Scotland would see in the case of independence. I would therefore conclude that Anais/Scotland has always has limited autonomy through cultural identity and history. I believe autonomy can only reside within the system through cultural and individual imagination and not out with it.
What does this mean for Scotland? If Scotland is part of the global community, can it become an autonomous nation? Is there a solution or should Anais/Scotland accept that cultural autonomy is imagined or self-contained. Can a collective identity and imagination change the political system? Finally, can culture survive without independence?
Bibliography
Crupp, Tyler, ‘Autonomy and Contemporary Political Theory’, in Encyclopaedia of Political Theory, ed. Mark Bevor (London: Sage Publications, 2010)
Fagan, Jenni, The Panopticon (London: Windmill Books, 2013), p.6.
Windmill Books. (2013). Granta Best Young British Novelist Jenni Fagan, . accessed 22 November 2015. Published on Apr 16, 2013
Kaysee Hood (83 KP) rated Fangirl in Books
Nov 16, 2017
Twin Life (4 more)
College Life
Mental Illness
Carry On
Fan Fic
Fangirl speaks to the hearts of the current generation of teenagers and young adults who have found love in fandoms but cannot seem to figure it out in the real world when their heads are in the clouds full of fanfics and theories.
As we grow to become adults we must venture through events of many firsts like kissing, love, heartbreak, and more. It is how we figure out who we are, who we want to be, and where we want to go even if sometimes the road is not easy to travel; however, for Cath she was never alone with her twin sister and she never experienced much other than living through Wren. This was until Freshmen year of college because Wren wants to separate herself from Cath. They've done everything together since birth. Cath does not want this. Cath does not want the space. She's scared not to have Wren feet away. She's fearful of the strangeness college will offer. She's terrified she's crazy and people will find her weird for the Simon and Baz fanfics she's written.
Wren does not give in. She moves in with her roommate, Coutrny, and spends her free time getting drunk at parties. She distances herself from Cath to the point they do not even speak. Thus Cath finds out who she is under the layers she’s wrapped around herself since her mom left without Wren to hold her hand and keep her steady. Oh boy, does this journey give her more adventures she has ever had in the last eighteen years of life all because of Nick (writing partner), Reagan (her roommate), and most importantly Levi (the boy who is always waiting outside her dorm for Reagan). There are other important characters at play in Cath’s life. Miniature quests wrapped around the biggest one of all: Cath learning to be her own person.
Rowell’s style is very pleasing when it comes to the flow between Cath around people in real life and how Cath is when she is logged in FanFixx posting Carry On, Simon chapters. We can relate to the girl who has hidden in her room relying on Wren to give little breathes of life from the one she is not living. She is realistic and not a carbon copy twisted to fit into a new plot to gain readers. In general Rowell writes her characters exquisitely as they stand out being not only realistic versions of possibly real people we could run into on the street, but all have their own lives not pieced together solely to further the plot for Cath alone shown with each word written through their actions or when they speak. Each could stand alone as interesting additions instead of misplaced messes. Even the subplots do not feel tacked on and further the story until the final page is done where it is easy to see how each line led to the end.
By the end of it all none of it felt overdone or predictable and I personally stood behind Cath cheering for her. Anyone could read Fangirl and enjoy Cath’s voyage alone as a Freshmen in college, but I think the fangirls and fanboys might enjoy it a bit more. Pick up a copy as soon as possible to learn how Cath’s story ends.
As we grow to become adults we must venture through events of many firsts like kissing, love, heartbreak, and more. It is how we figure out who we are, who we want to be, and where we want to go even if sometimes the road is not easy to travel; however, for Cath she was never alone with her twin sister and she never experienced much other than living through Wren. This was until Freshmen year of college because Wren wants to separate herself from Cath. They've done everything together since birth. Cath does not want this. Cath does not want the space. She's scared not to have Wren feet away. She's fearful of the strangeness college will offer. She's terrified she's crazy and people will find her weird for the Simon and Baz fanfics she's written.
Wren does not give in. She moves in with her roommate, Coutrny, and spends her free time getting drunk at parties. She distances herself from Cath to the point they do not even speak. Thus Cath finds out who she is under the layers she’s wrapped around herself since her mom left without Wren to hold her hand and keep her steady. Oh boy, does this journey give her more adventures she has ever had in the last eighteen years of life all because of Nick (writing partner), Reagan (her roommate), and most importantly Levi (the boy who is always waiting outside her dorm for Reagan). There are other important characters at play in Cath’s life. Miniature quests wrapped around the biggest one of all: Cath learning to be her own person.
Rowell’s style is very pleasing when it comes to the flow between Cath around people in real life and how Cath is when she is logged in FanFixx posting Carry On, Simon chapters. We can relate to the girl who has hidden in her room relying on Wren to give little breathes of life from the one she is not living. She is realistic and not a carbon copy twisted to fit into a new plot to gain readers. In general Rowell writes her characters exquisitely as they stand out being not only realistic versions of possibly real people we could run into on the street, but all have their own lives not pieced together solely to further the plot for Cath alone shown with each word written through their actions or when they speak. Each could stand alone as interesting additions instead of misplaced messes. Even the subplots do not feel tacked on and further the story until the final page is done where it is easy to see how each line led to the end.
By the end of it all none of it felt overdone or predictable and I personally stood behind Cath cheering for her. Anyone could read Fangirl and enjoy Cath’s voyage alone as a Freshmen in college, but I think the fangirls and fanboys might enjoy it a bit more. Pick up a copy as soon as possible to learn how Cath’s story ends.
authentic (2 more)
easy-to-read
funny
Fun, easy-to-read memoir
Anna Faris' memoir is based mainly on the premise of her podcast, also entitled Unqualified, in which she doles out advice to strangers whom she calls on her show. The idea is that Anna is, in fact, "unqualified" to give advice, but she'll do so anyway based on her life experiences. If you actually listen to her podcast, though, you quickly learn that she's pretty good at giving advice, and that she's also a funny and enjoyable person. The book expands on this, allowing Anna to answer some of the questions posed on her podcast (e.g., Dealbreakers), talk about her childhood and experience breaking in acting, and, yes, of course, her various relationships.
Overall, the book feels pretty real and authentic. You quickly get an idea of the kind of person Anna seems to be--kind, funny, talented, and perhaps a little insecure. I'll admit that since I started listening to Anna's podcast, I've felt a kinship to her, and my review is obviously influenced by that. She's so down-to-earth and really damn funny on her podcast. I also love the idea that she lived in her head for much of her childhood, making up stories (it sounds a little familiar, you see). If you like Anna's podcast, it will be hard not to enjoy her book, although some of the chapters and stories will sound a bit familiar if you're a faithful listener.
My love of Anna was only deepened by reading her book, which is quite readable and broken into simple, short chapters. We get glimpses into Anna's childhood, her first big relationship, a little insight into her big break with "Scary Movie," and more. I relate to her on so many levels. We're both fascinated by other people's lives; never had a big group of female friends; have no patience for small talk; are not wedding people; possess an emotional defense built up from our parents; and enjoy calling the numbers on vehicles to report about truck drivers' good driving. She just happens to be a lovely, famous, wealthy actress, and I'm um, well, yes. Otherwise, we're the same, right? ;)
Of course, the elephant in this review is Anna's recent split from her husband, Chris Pratt, who wrote the foreword to the book, which was apparently revised somewhat for publication. It's hard not to psychoanalyze Anna in light of her recent marriage breakup. You read about her self-admitted inability to admit failure and her tendency to jump from one relationship straight to the next. So much of the book is about Chris and their relationship, and it's a shame that it's a distraction from an enjoyable memoir about a really smart and talented woman, who should stand on her own merit, apart from her (soon-to-be-ex) husband. It's also heartbreaking to read these chapters where it sounds like they truly love each other--and where they got through the premature birth of their son together--and know they are no longer married.
Overall, this is a fun, easy-to-read memoir. If you like Anna, her films, or her podcast, you'll probably enjoy this one. It's a quick read, full of lists, humorous moments, and short chapters, although there are definitely serious pieces, too. It really only made me like her more. 3.5+ stars.
Overall, the book feels pretty real and authentic. You quickly get an idea of the kind of person Anna seems to be--kind, funny, talented, and perhaps a little insecure. I'll admit that since I started listening to Anna's podcast, I've felt a kinship to her, and my review is obviously influenced by that. She's so down-to-earth and really damn funny on her podcast. I also love the idea that she lived in her head for much of her childhood, making up stories (it sounds a little familiar, you see). If you like Anna's podcast, it will be hard not to enjoy her book, although some of the chapters and stories will sound a bit familiar if you're a faithful listener.
My love of Anna was only deepened by reading her book, which is quite readable and broken into simple, short chapters. We get glimpses into Anna's childhood, her first big relationship, a little insight into her big break with "Scary Movie," and more. I relate to her on so many levels. We're both fascinated by other people's lives; never had a big group of female friends; have no patience for small talk; are not wedding people; possess an emotional defense built up from our parents; and enjoy calling the numbers on vehicles to report about truck drivers' good driving. She just happens to be a lovely, famous, wealthy actress, and I'm um, well, yes. Otherwise, we're the same, right? ;)
Of course, the elephant in this review is Anna's recent split from her husband, Chris Pratt, who wrote the foreword to the book, which was apparently revised somewhat for publication. It's hard not to psychoanalyze Anna in light of her recent marriage breakup. You read about her self-admitted inability to admit failure and her tendency to jump from one relationship straight to the next. So much of the book is about Chris and their relationship, and it's a shame that it's a distraction from an enjoyable memoir about a really smart and talented woman, who should stand on her own merit, apart from her (soon-to-be-ex) husband. It's also heartbreaking to read these chapters where it sounds like they truly love each other--and where they got through the premature birth of their son together--and know they are no longer married.
Overall, this is a fun, easy-to-read memoir. If you like Anna, her films, or her podcast, you'll probably enjoy this one. It's a quick read, full of lists, humorous moments, and short chapters, although there are definitely serious pieces, too. It really only made me like her more. 3.5+ stars.
Eilidh G Clark (177 KP) rated Tony Hogan Bought Me an Ice Cream Float Before He Stole My Ma in Books
May 14, 2017
This is not only a well-written novel but also a powerful commentary on life within the poverty trap.
‘Graffiti and scorch marks, echoes of small fires, decorated doorsteps. Golden Special Brew cans and crushed vodka bottles, bright as diamonds, collected in gutters. Front gardens were filled with mouldy paddling pools and, occasionally, a rust burnished shell of a car. I had never seen anything so beautiful, so many colours, before in grey Aberdeen.’
This is a novel with nothing held back. While the title is light hearted and the cover art bright and cheerful, both are deceiving. The cover shows a silhouette of a young girl holding a giant red balloon against the backdrop of a Scottish suburban town. It is important to address the significance of this image. Readers may recall a similar painting by Banksy, named Girl With Balloon which was originally painted on a wall in London. Beside the painting was engraved “There Is Always Hope”. While Banksy’s painting shows the girl releasing the balloon, possibly representing lost hope or lost innocence, Hudson’s cover shows the girl being lifted by the balloon. Considering this when addressing the text, it is clear that Hudson wished to demonstrate that one can only hold on to hope by not letting go. Critics have described this book as containing bittersweet humour and Hudson cleverly intrudes in the second chapter by saying that this is in fact a ‘humorous cautionary tale’. As soon as you begin reading, expect to get dirt under your nails. The author launches right into the location of the novel using regional Scottish dialect and local Aberdonian vernacular. The story begins with the birth of out protagonist, Janie Ryan. Born to Iris (formally Irene), a single, homeless mother who comes from a line of women described as ‘fishwives to the marrow’, Iris has recently returned from London after trying to change her destiny (not wanting to become her mother). After falling pregnant to a rich and married American man, the relationship breaks down. Iris is forced to return to poverty in the back streets of Aberdeen but is keen to ensure that things have changed,’ I didnae go all the way to fuckin’ London to come back an’ be the same old Irene!’ Unfortunately, Iris falls back into her old ways and for Janie; this has a direct effect on her life. The reader follows the protagonist from her first home to temporary care and then to a string of homes over the UK in some of its poorest areas. Janie watches, as her mother gets involved in some abusive relationships, including one with alcohol, and watches helplessly as her mother loses hope. Towards the latter end of the novel, it is clear that Janie is falling into the same habits as her mother, however, a string of unfortunate event forces her to reassess her life. The end of the novel, like the cover art, is left to the reader’s interpretation. Can Janie break the cycle and make changes to her life, or is she destined to become her mother? This is not only a well-written novel but also a powerful commentary on life within the poverty trap.
Kerry Hudson, Tony Hogan Bought me an Ice Cream Float Before He Stole My Ma, 2012 published by Vintage Books
This is a novel with nothing held back. While the title is light hearted and the cover art bright and cheerful, both are deceiving. The cover shows a silhouette of a young girl holding a giant red balloon against the backdrop of a Scottish suburban town. It is important to address the significance of this image. Readers may recall a similar painting by Banksy, named Girl With Balloon which was originally painted on a wall in London. Beside the painting was engraved “There Is Always Hope”. While Banksy’s painting shows the girl releasing the balloon, possibly representing lost hope or lost innocence, Hudson’s cover shows the girl being lifted by the balloon. Considering this when addressing the text, it is clear that Hudson wished to demonstrate that one can only hold on to hope by not letting go. Critics have described this book as containing bittersweet humour and Hudson cleverly intrudes in the second chapter by saying that this is in fact a ‘humorous cautionary tale’. As soon as you begin reading, expect to get dirt under your nails. The author launches right into the location of the novel using regional Scottish dialect and local Aberdonian vernacular. The story begins with the birth of out protagonist, Janie Ryan. Born to Iris (formally Irene), a single, homeless mother who comes from a line of women described as ‘fishwives to the marrow’, Iris has recently returned from London after trying to change her destiny (not wanting to become her mother). After falling pregnant to a rich and married American man, the relationship breaks down. Iris is forced to return to poverty in the back streets of Aberdeen but is keen to ensure that things have changed,’ I didnae go all the way to fuckin’ London to come back an’ be the same old Irene!’ Unfortunately, Iris falls back into her old ways and for Janie; this has a direct effect on her life. The reader follows the protagonist from her first home to temporary care and then to a string of homes over the UK in some of its poorest areas. Janie watches, as her mother gets involved in some abusive relationships, including one with alcohol, and watches helplessly as her mother loses hope. Towards the latter end of the novel, it is clear that Janie is falling into the same habits as her mother, however, a string of unfortunate event forces her to reassess her life. The end of the novel, like the cover art, is left to the reader’s interpretation. Can Janie break the cycle and make changes to her life, or is she destined to become her mother? This is not only a well-written novel but also a powerful commentary on life within the poverty trap.
Kerry Hudson, Tony Hogan Bought me an Ice Cream Float Before He Stole My Ma, 2012 published by Vintage Books
Hazel (1853 KP) rated The Chilbury Ladies' Choir in Books
May 23, 2017
Wartime Fiction
This eBook was provided by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review
"Just because the men have gone to war, why do we have to close the choir? And precisely when we need it most!"
Set in the fictional village of Chilbury, Kent during the Second World War, The Chilbury Ladies’ Choir explores the lives of the women left behind whilst the men go off to fight. The remaining villagers are disappointed at the closing of the church choir, which, according to the vicar, cannot go on without any men to sing the tenor and bass parts. However, the arrival of bold, forthright Primrose Trent brings the birth of a new choir, a choir for women only.
Although a war is going on, the ladies of Chilbury have so many other things on their minds. Told through a conflation letters and diary entries, The Chilbury Ladies’ Choir reveals the everyday lives of a handful of characters. Mrs Tilling’s journal provides an overview of the general events, whilst 18-year-old Venetia’s letters divulge the wiles and charms she uses in the name of romance. Other characters, particularly the young teenager, Kitty, offer other insights to the goings on in the village.
From falling in love, to having babies, The Chilbury Ladies’ Choir is full of secrets, schemes and misunderstandings that almost let the villagers forget there is a war on. However, the effects of war do reach the little village, bringing with it terror and grief.
The individual stories that make up the book provide the reader with a number of scenarios that are full of emotion, but equally entertain. One moment the horror of war could leave readers in flood of tears, the next, Mrs B.’s pretentious personality and vaunting comments bring amusement and laughter.
All the while these events are playing out, the Chilbury Ladies’ Choir pulls the women together, providing them with a source of comfort to get them through the terrible times. No matter what disasters befall them, whether caused by war or their own actions, joining together in song gives them a purpose and opportunity to have a break from their fears and grief. War may destroy, but they will carry on singing.
Written in the manner of private letters and journals gives the novel a personal touch. The story is not merely narrated, it is expressed through the emotion and feelings of individual characters, making the scenarios seem more authentic. The downside to this method is the lack of distinction between each character’s voices. With no detectable dialect, the musings of a 13-year-old are composed in much the same manner as the much older Mrs Tilling.
The Chilbury Ladies’ Choir is an enjoyable piece of historical literature, which is bound to appeal to many people. Although set during World War II, its primary focus is on the people in the village, making it more attractive to readers who are fed up of reading about bombs and fighting. A mix of family issues, bribery and romance provide considerably more entertainment than a generic wartime novel. Being Jennifer Ryan’s debut novel, The Chilbury Ladies’ Choir is of a quality that suggests the author has so much more to deliver in the not-so-distant future.
"Just because the men have gone to war, why do we have to close the choir? And precisely when we need it most!"
Set in the fictional village of Chilbury, Kent during the Second World War, The Chilbury Ladies’ Choir explores the lives of the women left behind whilst the men go off to fight. The remaining villagers are disappointed at the closing of the church choir, which, according to the vicar, cannot go on without any men to sing the tenor and bass parts. However, the arrival of bold, forthright Primrose Trent brings the birth of a new choir, a choir for women only.
Although a war is going on, the ladies of Chilbury have so many other things on their minds. Told through a conflation letters and diary entries, The Chilbury Ladies’ Choir reveals the everyday lives of a handful of characters. Mrs Tilling’s journal provides an overview of the general events, whilst 18-year-old Venetia’s letters divulge the wiles and charms she uses in the name of romance. Other characters, particularly the young teenager, Kitty, offer other insights to the goings on in the village.
From falling in love, to having babies, The Chilbury Ladies’ Choir is full of secrets, schemes and misunderstandings that almost let the villagers forget there is a war on. However, the effects of war do reach the little village, bringing with it terror and grief.
The individual stories that make up the book provide the reader with a number of scenarios that are full of emotion, but equally entertain. One moment the horror of war could leave readers in flood of tears, the next, Mrs B.’s pretentious personality and vaunting comments bring amusement and laughter.
All the while these events are playing out, the Chilbury Ladies’ Choir pulls the women together, providing them with a source of comfort to get them through the terrible times. No matter what disasters befall them, whether caused by war or their own actions, joining together in song gives them a purpose and opportunity to have a break from their fears and grief. War may destroy, but they will carry on singing.
Written in the manner of private letters and journals gives the novel a personal touch. The story is not merely narrated, it is expressed through the emotion and feelings of individual characters, making the scenarios seem more authentic. The downside to this method is the lack of distinction between each character’s voices. With no detectable dialect, the musings of a 13-year-old are composed in much the same manner as the much older Mrs Tilling.
The Chilbury Ladies’ Choir is an enjoyable piece of historical literature, which is bound to appeal to many people. Although set during World War II, its primary focus is on the people in the village, making it more attractive to readers who are fed up of reading about bombs and fighting. A mix of family issues, bribery and romance provide considerably more entertainment than a generic wartime novel. Being Jennifer Ryan’s debut novel, The Chilbury Ladies’ Choir is of a quality that suggests the author has so much more to deliver in the not-so-distant future.
RəX Regent (349 KP) rated Network (1976) in Movies
Feb 19, 2019
“I’m mad as hell and I’m not gonna take it anymore!”
…the lasting legacy of Peter Finch’s rants, which began with a breakdown and became the ratings winner in the 1970’s Network driven news media. This is of course, fiction but the commentary on the changing and more corporate driven American media industry of the the time is not without merit.
Smartly scripted, on the ball cynicism and yet harking back to the rose tinted nostalgia common with American media movies in whcih the industry was supposedly filled with Walter Cronkites,
the notion that American press was once beyond reproach is clearly a fallacy, in contrast, the notion that American news media was becoming so ratings driven that the news gave way to outlandish editorialism, is not.
Howard Beale (Finch) has an on air breakdown and whilst his best friend and producer, Max Schumacher (William Holden) tries to pull him from the air waves, allowing him to bow out with some dignity, the new wave of corporate management lead by CEO Frank Hackett (Robert Duval) and Holden’s replacement and eventual lover, Diana, (Faye Dunaway), have other ideas.
She sees an opportunity in the ratings spike gained by Beale’s rants which speak to the peoples growing frustrations and takes advantage, only driven by ratings.
Though the screenplay and performances are nothing less than brilliant, there are two core problems with this movie.
The first being that it is too long. The plot seems to be dragged out and repetitive as we approach the almost inevitable conclusion and the second is the level of preaching. But this is a symptom of the first, opening with a good argument, with old school journalism versus the TV generation and as the film goes on, the arguments need to escalate but since this was covered in the first half an hour, the points become laboured and over started.
The notion that the TV generation is shallow and amoral is put at odds with the middle aged newspaper reader, where time and decency are standard. This is a point which I refuse to accept since some of the 20th centuries most amoral acts where committed either before 1936, the birth of television and in the first couple of decades there after, by the very generation whcih is being held up as the moral standard here.
large_network_blu-ray_3The press has always had its paymasters, always had to sell newspapers and whilst the medium and methods may have changed, this does feel like sour grapes by the end. Criticising the characters motivations is one thing, but this film seems to imply that the modern world of television is making sociopaths of us all, dumbing us down and numbing our emotions to the point of accepting nothing but pure spectacle.
In many ways this is true but is also a very flawed argument and comes across as bunch old men crying into there Scotch in some dimly lit bar, in a way not too dissimilar to the print or broadcast media of today, hitting out at the blogging and twitter generation.
The ending was amusing though with the quote “This was the story of Howard Beale, the only known case of a man killed because of poor ratings”.
Very droll.
Smartly scripted, on the ball cynicism and yet harking back to the rose tinted nostalgia common with American media movies in whcih the industry was supposedly filled with Walter Cronkites,
the notion that American press was once beyond reproach is clearly a fallacy, in contrast, the notion that American news media was becoming so ratings driven that the news gave way to outlandish editorialism, is not.
Howard Beale (Finch) has an on air breakdown and whilst his best friend and producer, Max Schumacher (William Holden) tries to pull him from the air waves, allowing him to bow out with some dignity, the new wave of corporate management lead by CEO Frank Hackett (Robert Duval) and Holden’s replacement and eventual lover, Diana, (Faye Dunaway), have other ideas.
She sees an opportunity in the ratings spike gained by Beale’s rants which speak to the peoples growing frustrations and takes advantage, only driven by ratings.
Though the screenplay and performances are nothing less than brilliant, there are two core problems with this movie.
The first being that it is too long. The plot seems to be dragged out and repetitive as we approach the almost inevitable conclusion and the second is the level of preaching. But this is a symptom of the first, opening with a good argument, with old school journalism versus the TV generation and as the film goes on, the arguments need to escalate but since this was covered in the first half an hour, the points become laboured and over started.
The notion that the TV generation is shallow and amoral is put at odds with the middle aged newspaper reader, where time and decency are standard. This is a point which I refuse to accept since some of the 20th centuries most amoral acts where committed either before 1936, the birth of television and in the first couple of decades there after, by the very generation whcih is being held up as the moral standard here.
large_network_blu-ray_3The press has always had its paymasters, always had to sell newspapers and whilst the medium and methods may have changed, this does feel like sour grapes by the end. Criticising the characters motivations is one thing, but this film seems to imply that the modern world of television is making sociopaths of us all, dumbing us down and numbing our emotions to the point of accepting nothing but pure spectacle.
In many ways this is true but is also a very flawed argument and comes across as bunch old men crying into there Scotch in some dimly lit bar, in a way not too dissimilar to the print or broadcast media of today, hitting out at the blogging and twitter generation.
The ending was amusing though with the quote “This was the story of Howard Beale, the only known case of a man killed because of poor ratings”.
Very droll.