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Friday, February 27, 2026
"Daniel Boone's Own Story" by Daniel Boone and "The Adventures of Daniel Boone" by Frances Lister Hawkes
Wednesday, December 24, 2025
"The Cricket on the Hearth" by Charles Dickens
Tuesday, January 14, 2025
"The Annotated Persuasion" by Jane Austen (annotated and edited by David M. Shapard)
Monday, November 25, 2024
"The Annotated Emma" by Jane Austen (annotated and edited by David M. Shapard)
Friday, September 20, 2024
"The Annotated Mansfield Park" by Jane Austen (Annotated and Edited by David M. Shapar)
Sunday, July 28, 2024
"The Annotated Northanger Abbey" by Jane Austen (Annotated and Edited by David M. Shapard)
Friday, April 26, 2024
"The Annotated Pride and Prejudice" by Jane Austen (Annotated and Edited by David M. Shapard)
Saturday, March 9, 2024
"The Annotated Sense and Sensibility" by Jane Austen (Annotated and Edited by David M. Shapard)
Friday, December 16, 2022
"The Snow Storm: A Christmas Story" by Catherine Gore
Friday, March 18, 2022
"The Swiss Family Robinson" by Johann David Wyss
Tuesday, August 24, 2021
"The Count of Monte Cristo" by Alexandre Dumas
It wasn't until a few years ago that I learned that many, many English translations significantly abridge this book. And never bother to call themselves "abridged." They cut out certain plotlines that the translators find distasteful or think modern audiences won't like... such as all that stuff about the baby in the box. Well, once I learned that, I set out to find a good, reliable translation. What I learned is that the Penguin edition pictured here, with a translation by Robin Buss, is considered the most accurate modern translation, so that's the version I've got now, and the one I read this summer.
I'm really not sure how they'd make a bunch of this work without the baby in the box, as that's kind of central to a big part of the plot, and I'm not surprised that I wondered where it went when I read that other version. If you're scratching your head and saying, "I read this book, and there was no baby in a box," then you probably read a sneakily abridged version too. I'm just sayin'.
Anyway, I read the real thing this time. And I adored it all over again. Yes, this book is 1200 pages. It's a brick. A chunkster. A tome. And I gobbled it right down. For the last few hundred pages, I was so excited and happy I would put the book down and just bounce up and down with joy from how beautifully everything was slotting together. My goodness, what a breathless ride.
Quick summary of the plot in case you don't know it: Edmond Dantes is thrown into prison after being wrongly accused by a couple of men who are jealous of him. He eventually escapes, becomes fabulously wealthy and sophisticated, and returns to France to wreck the men who wrecked his life, stole his fiancée, and starved his father.
I think two things set this apart from ordinary stories of revenge. First, I love how Dantes, as the Count of Monte Cristo, uses his enemies' own past crimes, as well as their pet sins, to ruin them. He doesn't steal their fortunes or slander their names or steal their wives and sweethearts. He just patiently brings their own long-buried secrets to light and lets them suffer the consequences of their own wrongdoing. That's brilliant.
The other is that Dantes learns, eventually, that revenge can get away from the avenger and cause more harm than intended. He discovers that, though he considers himself a tool of God for striking down wrongdoers, he is NOT God, and his strikes can cut too wide a path. He also learns that revenge hollows you out, while helping others fills you up, and turns from one to the other at the end.
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| (Mine from my Instagram) |
Particularly Good Bits:
"Happiness is like one of those palaces on an enchanted island, its gates guarded by dragons. One must fight to gain it" (p. 42).
"Hatred is blind and anger deaf: the one who pours himself a cup of vengeance is likely to drink a bitter draught" (p. 385).
"There are two medicines for all ills: time and silence" (p. 523).
"I like everybody in the way that God ordered us to love our neighbours, that is, in Christian charity. I only bestow true hatred on certain people" (p. 747).
"I do not think this is the moment to give way to sterile misery: that may be enough for those who want to suffer at their ease and have time to drink their own tears" (p. 786).
"He's a wonderful person for raising one's spirits, because he never asks questions: in my opinion, people who don't ask too many questions give the best consolation" (p. 938).
Moral wounds have the peculiarity that they are invisible, but do not close: always painful, always ready to bleed when touched, they remain tender and open in the heart (p. 952).
People were hanging on his every word, as is always the case with those who say little and never waste words (p. 1048).
So, do live and be happy, children dear to my heart, and never forget that, until the day when God deigns to unveil the future to mankind, all human wisdom is contained in these two words: 'wait' and 'hope'! (p. 1243)
If This was a Movie, I Would Rate It: PG-16 for suggestive dialog, drug use (including a pretty racy drug-induced dream), some mild profanity, violence, and poisonings.
This has been my 26th book read and reviewed for my third Classics Club list.
Monday, February 15, 2021
"Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass" by Frederick Douglass
Well, I've read it now, and I found it both enlightening and enjoyable. While sometimes Douglass does start to sound a little bit... oratorical... he mostly tells his life story in a straight-forward and easy-to-read manner. Certainly, he was writing this with an agenda, namely to convince people of the evils of slavery, but it rarely felt like a lecture or an argument. Just a man telling you about his own experiences, and letting you conclude for yourself whether or not his life was typical or atypical for those living in slavery.
I was a little sad that he couldn't give a more detailed account of his escape to freedom in the north, but he withheld most of it to protect those who helped him, who were still alive and possibly in danger of reprisals, so it was understandable and wise of him to omit that part, I thought.
It was really interesting to read this on the heels of The Color of Compromise by Jemar Tisby because it succeeded in something that I thought Tisby failed at. Douglass did a great job of pointing out that the failure of Christian churches toward enslaved people is not the fault of Christianity, but of individuals claiming to be Christians. Tisby lumped those together, but Douglass clearly separated them, especially in the book's appendix, where he wrote:
What I have said respecting and against religion, I mean strictly to apply to the slaveholding religion of this land, and with no possible reference to Christianity proper; for, between the Christianity of this land, and the Christianity of Christ, I recognize the widest possible difference -- so wide, that to receive the one as good, pure, and holy, is of necessity to reject the other as bad, corrupt and wicked. To be the friend of the one, is of necessity to be the enemy of the other (p. 71).
If you're looking for something to read for Black History Month, this gets my vote. It's a quick read, not difficult, and both historically and culturally important. Since yesterday is believed to have been Douglass's birthday, I thought it was a good time to read it, and I'm glad I did.
Particularly Good Bits:
The songs of the slave represent the sorrows of his heart; and he is relieved by them, only as an aching heart is relieved by its tears (p. 9).
The silver trump of freedom had roused my soul to eternal wakefulness (p. 24).
If This was a Movie, I Would Rate It: PG-15 for descriptions of whippings, beatings, and other acts of violence, as well as discussions of sexual misconduct and force. Those were non-graphic, but I won't have my kids read it until high school because I don't think they'll be ready for it.
This was my 16th book read for my 3rd Classics Club list, and my 7th book read off my unread shelves for #TheUnreadShelfProject2021.
Saturday, August 22, 2020
"Jane Eyre" by Charlotte Bronte (again)
If so, you're not alone.
One Sunday, I decided that I could not pass up the opportunity to discuss my favorite novel with one of my favorite living authors, Katherine Reay. She and a couple other authors direct the "What the Dickens" reading group on Facebook, and Jane Eyre was their latest book to discuss. And the discussion was slated for Wednesday.
So, Sunday evening after supper, I started rereading Jane Eyre. Tuesday night around 10pm, I finished it. It took me 51 hours, but I did it. And then I got to discuss it last night, and that was nifty. But know what was niftier than the discussion?
The experience of inhaling my favorite book, that's what. I am, by nature, a savorer. I want to read things slowly, draw out the experience. I can make a decent-sized book series last for years. I can make a TV series last for decades. I enjoy anticipation, I enjoy savoring... but I've realized (mostly thanks to The Blue Castle) that devouring a book as quickly as possible can also be a joy. A different kind, but just because it's different doesn't mean it's bad.
By the end of this reread, I felt like I had words shooting out of my fingers and toes and the ends of my hair. I had gorged myself on words, and it felt pretty glorious.
I'm going to try to remember this. That reading a book really fast does not mean I will necessarily enjoy it less, it just means I will enjoy it in a different way.
And yeah, I love this book. Sorry that this doesn't say much about what Jane Eyre is actually about. You can read my review from a few years ago for more on that, I guess.
One random thing I noticed this time that I'm not sure I ever have before -- Jane actually likens the third story of Thornfield to "a corridor in some Bluebeard's castle" (p. 145) the first time she visits it. How did I never notice that bit of foreshadowing before?
Also, it brought home to me again that it isn't until Rochester "began to experience remorse, repentance; the wish for reconcilement to my Maker" and "began sometimes to pray: very brief prayers they were, but very sincere" (p. 619) that the "miracle" occurred that carried his voice to Jane's ear over all the land that separated them. Like a benediction that says yes, he is forgiven, and now he and Jane can go on with their lives.
Particularly Good Bits:
"...it is weak and silly to say you cannot bear what it is your fate to be required to bear" (p. 72).
"Life appears to me too short to be spent in nursing animosity or registering wrongs" (p. 75).
"Human beings never enjoy complete happiness in this world. I was not born for a different destiny to the rest of my species: to imagine such a lot befalling me is a fairy tale -- a day-dream" (p. 357).
"Yes; I feel now that I was right when I adhered to principle and law, and scorned and crushed the insane promptings of a frenzied moment. God directed me to a correct choice: I thank His providence for the guidance!" (p. 499).
If This was a Movie, I Would Rate It: PG for scary situations, cruel treatment of a child, and discussions of Rochester's possible fathering of an illegitimate child.
Sunday, July 5, 2020
"Persuasion" by Jane Austen (yet again)
Characters are always what draw me to a story -- if I love the characters, I will love the book. If I don't engage with the characters, no matter how much I like the author's writing, I won't actually love the story. So the reason that this is my favorite Austen book is because Anne Elliot and Captain Wentworth are my favorite Austen heroine and hero. And together make my favorite Austen couple. That's just how it is.
Of course, Austen's writing also delights me. She's so smart without being pompous, polished without being glib, and sincere without being sappy. I love how deeply we get to know and understand her characters -- many of them, not just the main character. And I love the way her books bring home to me the fact that no matter how much the externals of society change, people are the same inside, century after century.
Quick description of what the book is about, in case you don't know already: Miss Anne Elliot and Captain Frederick Wentworth were engaged eight years ago, but she broke off their engagement because her surrogate mother believed the marriage would be unwise and imprudent. Neither of them have ever fallen in love again. Now Wentworth is back on sea, important and wealthy and ready to settle down, but still harboring bitter disappointment over Anne's ending things with him. Anne is unappreciated by her own family and has lost her girlhood beauty, but has grown into a patient, wise woman who has learned to understand herself and those around her.
I read this as part of a buddy read on Bookstagram, and that was so much fun! I really love discussing books with other book lovers.
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| (Mine from Bookstagram) |
Particularly Good Bits:
"There is hardly any personal defect," replied Anne, "which an agreeable manner might not gradually reconcile one to" (p. 31).
A submissive spirit might be patient, a strong understanding would supply resolution, but here was something more; here was that elasticity of mind, that disposition to be comforted, that power of turning readily from evil to good, and of finding employment which carried her out of herself, which was from Nature alone (p. 138).
Her spring of felicity was in the glow of her spirits, as her friend Anne's was in the warmth of her heart (p. 227).
If This was a Movie, I Would Rate It: G. Nothing objectionable here.
Like I said, it's my favorite Jane Austen novel. I have many copies...
Monday, June 29, 2020
"The Hunchback of Notre-Dame" by Victor Hugo
It's not that I don't enjoy tragedies. I mean, this is the person who has seen nineteen different versions of Hamlet, many of them multiple times. I like a good, sad story.
So it's not the tragicality that made me dislike this book. It's the fatalism. The bleak flavor that permeates it. Hugo seems to be saying that fate dictates how everything will turn out, what everyone will do, and that is absolutely the opposite of my belief in the gift of free will. The characters become puppets for the author to move around, and Hugo uses them to try to convey the idea that all people are puppets, jerked and shoved about by fate.
If fate dictates everything, there are no consequences for actions, no accountability. Right and wrong are sapped of their meaning, and everything is dictated by the whim of some made-up, nameless, uncaring power. Feh.
Even with the fatalism aside, this is a book full of people doing really stupid things that ::surprise!:: lead to bad results. I hate that kind of tragedy. I only enjoy tragedies that feel inevitable, where the events set in motion by the villains lead to sadness and badness that the heroes mitigate the best they can, but which eventually overwhelm them because they're flawed themselves.
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| (From my Instagram) |
So, yeah. I loved Les Miserables when I read that twenty years ago, and I'd like to revisit it one of these days. But I have no desire or need to revisit The Hunchback of Notre-Dame. Ever.
If This was a Movie, I Would Rate It: R for lascivious desires and intentions and behavior, scenes of torture and violence, and voyeurism.
Some happy news!!! This is my 50th book read and reviewed for my second go-'round with the Classics Club, which means it's my 100th book for the club as a whole! I have sent up a third list of 50 books and will embark upon it in July.
This is also my 24th book read for #TheUnreadShelfProject2020.
Sunday, May 31, 2020
"Pride and Prejudice" by Jane Austen (yet again)
This is the first time I've reread Pride and Prejudice since 2013. I feel like admitting that might get me hauled away for insufficient Austen fandomness or something. But it's true.
Anyway. Once again, this book delighted me. It made me laugh. It made me smile. It made me unaccountably anxious to zip through the last third or so of the book so Lizzy and Mr. Darcy wouldn't have to be separated for too long. Isn't it amazing how a story I KNOW so very well can still make me want to hurry up and see how it turns out? Wonderful stuff.
Something that really struck me this time through is how anti-romantic this book is. Or maybe not anti-romantic, but non-romantic, in the sense that we think of books as romantic today. The characters who act the way we think romanically inclined people ought to, swooning and going into raptures about handsome men or beautiful women, and feeling lots of physical attraction toward the opposite sex... are all idiots. Yes, I'm looking at you, Lydia and Wickham and Kitty. Even Bingley, who is enraptured with Jane's beauty, is... not portrayed as the brightest candle on the cake.
On the other hand, we have Mr. Collins and Charlotte Lucas having zero physical attraction in their relationship at all, and that's portrayed as not very ideal either. But very sensible, if dull and sometimes disagreeable.
But with Lizzy and Mr. Darcy, we have a balance. Two minds that understand and value each other's good qualities, abilities, understanding, and personalities, and also two people who find each other attractive. Except that, especially for Lizzy, the physical attraction comes AFTER the mental attraction. Mr. Darcy does admire her fine eyes long before she finds him at all agreeable, but he kept trying to dispose of that attraction because he thought WHO she was wouldn't be a good fit for him. Still, overall, they're as interested in each other as they are attracted to each other. I think Austen is trying to show us how very important it is to have both those aspects in a relationship.
Anyway, totally love this book. I love how, like Lizzy, Austen obviously is diverted by "follies, whims, and inconsistencies," and yet, also like Lizzy, she never stoops to "ridicule what is wise or good" (p. 52). I can laugh with her in good conscience.
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| (Mine from my Instagram account.) |
Particularly Good Bits:
"Affectation of candour is common enough -- one meets it every where. But to be candid without ostentation or design -- to take the good of every body's character and make it still better, and say nothing of the bad -- belongs to you alone" (p. 13).
If This was a Movie, I Would Rate It: PG. No violence or smut, but there's a couple who lives in sin for a time, which is alluded to in the most genteel and vague way possible. No real bad language, but Lydia does like to say "lord" a lot, which could be seen as a profanity.
This is my 47th book read and reviewed for my second go-round with the Classics Club! Only three to go and I'll have finished my second set of fifty!
Monday, November 25, 2019
"Nutcracker and Mouse King" by ETA Hoffmann AND "The Tale of the Nutcracker" by Alexandre Dumas
I'd never read either of these before -- my knowledge of the Nutcracker story comes from the ballet by Mikhail Baryshnikov that we watched on PBS every winter when I was a kid, and which I now watch on DVD with my own kids. It was interesting to see the differences not only between these two versions of the story, but between them and the ballet!
E.T.A. Hoffman's is the original, and it has this very bold, brash feel to it. And it's kinda dark. Very German-winter-near-the-old-and-scary-forest sort of vibe. It's all about a little girl named Marie who has a somewhat creepy godfather, Herr Drosselmeier, as well as a bratty brother named Fritz and a snobby sister named Luise. They get a huge number of fabulous presents for Christmas, including a mechanical castle made by Drosselmeier, who is a Chief Justice, but seems to spend most of his time making fantastical toys and fixing clocks. He also gives the family a very ugly nutcracker.
Marie loves the Nutcracker. She stays up late playing with him, gets attacked by lots of mice led by a seven-headed Mouse King, the Nutcracker and all of Fritz's toy soldiers come to life and have a battle with the mice, and Marie gets injured in the fray, but saves Nutcracker from the ravages of the Mouse King by throwing her shoe at him. She faints from blood loss, and has to spend a week in bed recovering.
While she's stuck in bed, Herr Drosselmeier comes to visit. No one in her family believes Marie's story of how she hurt her arm, but Drosselmeier seems to. He tells her a long story about a princess named Pirlipat, some wicked mice, and a brave young man who tried to save the princess from the mice, only to get turned into a nutcracker. Marie is convinced this story is about her new Nutcracker, especially when she gets visited by the Mouse King for several nights running. Mouse King demands she sacrifice all her candies and cookies and marzipan treats to him, or else he'll gnaw on Nutcracker. Marie tearfully complies, until all her goodies are gone. But then Nutcracker comes back to life, defeats the Mouse King once and for all, and takes Marie on a journey to the Land of Sweets, which he rules.
After seeing many delightful things there, Marie falls asleep, and wakes up back at home in bed. Her whole family laughs at her when she tells them about her journey. But then Herr Drossellmeier returns, with his handsome nephew who has just returned from a long journey, and who obviously is the Nutcracker released from the enchantment for good.
Marie, though only 7, accepts this nephew's offer of marriage. One year later, they get married, and live happily ever after in the Land of Sweets.
Um, yes. Child bride and all that. Hmmmmmmmm. It's a weird, wacky story, obviously not meant to be taken seriously, so I guess we're just supposed to shrug and be cool with it.
Alexandre Dumas' translation is fairly similar, but he takes out a lot of the scary or weird parts, or tames them down. Yes, the same Alexandre Dumas who wrote The Count of Monte Cristo and The Three Musketeers tried to make a more-child-friendly version of the story when he translated it. Which amuses me. Basically the same things happen, except the mice are way less icky and the whole thing has a more sparkly, bright feel.
I definitely preferred Dumas' version because it was more whimsical, yet a little less nonsensical.
Overall, the story reminded me of a blend of The Wizard of Oz, the Chronicles of Narnia, and Alice in Wonderland, plus the game Candy Land.
You know how, in the ballet, about half the time is taken up with the girl and the prince watching his subjects dance while in his magical kingdom? That's like one paragraph in this story. Which also cracks me up.
One thing I like better about both of these than the ballet (at least the Baryshnikov version, which is the only one I've seen) is that they make it clear that the Nutcracker really DOES come to life, and the girl DOES get to marry him and live happily ever after. I don't always hate the "it was all a dream" kind of ending, as it does work for some stories, but I've never liked its use in the ballet. So I shall imagine the ballet ends this way from now on.
If This was a Movie, I Would Rate It: PG for some scary/creepy stuff involving mice gnawing on, or threatening to gnaw on, people.
This is my first entry into the Literary Christmas challenge and my 38th for my second go-'round with the Classics Club.
































