Two Books on the American Revolution and Liberalism

I read the first book (with an enormously long title) for a class on the history
of liberalism. Joyce Appleby’s Liberalism and Republicanism in the Historical
Imagination (see, told you the title is long) was rather bland, and not a good place to start if you are just trying the get the basics about the historical ideological beginnings of liberalism and the American Revolution (which I was). It was not very coherent at all; it was more like a bunch of essays thrown together than a cohesive study. However, the analysis is well founded and easily readable.

I also read Steven M. Dworetz’s The Unvarnished Doctrine for the same class, and it was leaps and bounds above the Appleby book. This is such a weird thing to say, but it is a wonderfully edited book. A single line of coherency and consistency runs through every chapter, linking them together. I had no doubts about the overall argument of the entire work. The chapter on methodology was really interesting; I always enjoy seeing someone else’s research process, especially in a field I’m not familiar with, like history. This book is well written, and although it really focuses on the influence of Locke on the American Revolution, I feel like it also gives a well-rounded account of other ideological inspirations.

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen

As promised, here’s my review of Sense and Sensibility. I really should have put up this discretion before I started reviewing books, but oh well, too late now. I have a sort of strange way of looking at books. As a literature major, I look at many technical aspects of what I read. This includes pacing, diction, characterization, historical context, etc. However, I’m also a bad literature student in that I’m also very subjective. I have a personal investment in everything I read so I also review and rate books according to my own personal response and feelings. As I have been told by many a professor, I should not think of the characters as real people, but as projections of an author’s motives and professional desires. I’ll stick with that in my papers, but all that crap is going out the window for this blog. Also, all my reviews will contain spoilers; you have been warned.

Now, continuing on to S&S. I’ll preface my review by saying I have a love/hate relationship with Jane Austen: I love Pride and Prejudice, and I hate Persuasion. I’m all for quiet and demure romances, but for me to be invested or engaged in a love story, it needs to have some degree of passion and likeable characters. Sense and Sensibility is pretty much lacking in both.

S&S was Austen’s first published novel, and as the novel was more of an intangible and fledgling idea rather than a full-scale genre, I can forgive her of several technical failures. While I may be able to forgive the author, however, I still can’t ignore the book’s problems. The opening is rather slow. I still can’t decide whether the book has not enough exposition or too much of it. We do, however, meet our two female leads, Marianne, who’s like that really happy person that everyone knows and secretly hates, and Elinor, who is intelligent and likeable, but also quite dull. We also meet a third sister, Margaret, who disappears for the rest of the novel because she’s apparently too young to be important at all.

Austen’s social commentary starts right away, but rather than the acerbic yet subtle witticisms seen in the author’s later work, the social commentary in S&S is like an in-your-face explosion. The narrator seems rather cranky, the characters are far too exaggerated and unrealistic, and everyone says “monstrous” a lot. This novel reads more like a sarcastic satire than a dry, tongue-in-cheek observation of Regency life. It’s a little off-putting to say the least.

The male leads are even less appealing than the female ones. Willoughby is attractive but an ass. Edward is nice but boring and spineless. Colonel Brandon is the only interesting and likeable man in the whole novel, but he’s essentially ignored for most of it.

The plot of this novel really falls short. The central plot between Willoughby and Marianne is admittedly pretty engaging and will keep you turning pages. However, after the climax and the departure of the sisters from town, the pacing really begins to just drag on. On and on. So I’ll just skip to the end. Attention-spoilers coming up.

I hated the end. Willoughby is entirely irredeemable in my book. So is Edward. I really did not like Edward; he was extremely boring and annoying, with almost no redeeming qualities. I do not think it is honorable to marry someone you dislike, thus creating an unhappy future for both, just because you said you would. Honestly, I was hoping that Marianne would die so that Elinor and Colonel Brandon could end up together. While Marianne does become a likeable character in the end, I still do not see how she and Colonel Brandon could ever be compatible and fall in love. (Maybe if Austen had actually depicted their romance rather than just tacking it on to the end, I wouldn’t be so pissed.)

To wrap up this review: Sense and Sensibility was not a torture to read. It did have some very good moments, and I enjoyed reading most of it, but it will never hold a place in my heart like Pride and Prejudice.

2010 Challenge

I am challenging myself to read 20 books of my choice during 2010. As a literature major, I will most likely read over a hundred books this upcoming year, so a 50 or 100 book challenge would be more like an occupational necessity. During the semesters I usually get so caught up in my class readings that I tend to forget to read for pleasure alone. So this year I am dedicated to reading at least 20 books that have nothing to do with classes or research.

I've decided not to count Good Omens as part of this challenge since I started that book in 2009. First up will be Sense and Sensibility.

I'm also challenging myself to blog about every book I read, even ones for research, even if it's only a short entry. I think this will be most helpful for research actually because when you read 15 books within the course of a week, it all starts to blend together. My blog for S&S will probably be coming up this weekend, so look for it!

Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman

I had heard such wonderful things about Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett’s collective work, Good Omens, that I just had to read it. While it was not the most hilarious novel I’ve ever read, it did guaranty quite a few laughs. I wouldn’t necessarily call this book a satire or a critique of Christianity; that would almost be giving it too much credit. Rather, it pokes fun at the absurdities and convoluted tenets of both divine and human nature.

As can be expected with these two writers, the characters are the best part of the book. I have to admit, the Antichrist grew on me, as did Dog, his hellhound. Aziraphale and Crowley (whose name never fails to make me smirk) are both so full of fail, but that’s why you’ve got to love them. You even have to love Agnes Nutter, who is hardly seen on screen, but whose presence looms over everything, because she seems like your own half-crazy great-grandma who ate the candy cane with plastic still on. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, depicted in a very modern and human way, were exquisitely creepy.

My only real complaint with this novel is that it is a bit tedious. This isn’t really a fault of the authors, but of the subject matter. It’s a story about Armageddon, quite a dense topic. One could get easily worn out by this book if it weren’t for the fantastic characters and plot. If you can strap yourself in for a moderately long haul, this book is definitely worth a read.