Turning Leaves Through October

Besides Havana Sleeping by Martin Davies (which I thought deserved a book review of its own), I also in the month of October read/listened to the first two (out of six) ‘Chronicles of Barsetshire’ by Anthony Trollope – The Warden (1855) and Barchester Towers (1857).

As far as I can recall, I have not previously read anything by Trollope, even though I’ve often seen references to him, and this series especially.

Being old classics, these books can nowadays be found for free on the internet.  Back in my pre-internet university days, it was a very different story (here in Sweden) to get hold of English classics that weren’t on the prescribed list of study course literature…

Which means that ever since I got the Kindle (I can hardly believe that was only three years ago – it feels like I’ve had it much longer!), I’ve been on a constant happy free-shopping-spree, downloading just about every old classic, read or unread, that has happened to come to mind for me. No doubt more of them than I will ever in reality find the time to read…

The Barsetshire Chronicles were actually among the first lot of classics that I downloaded just after I bought the Kindle back in the autumn of 2012. What made me decide to read these just now was that more recently I also happened to notice that ‘whispersync’ audio versions of them were also available at reduced price (about 3$ per book).

I really love that possibility of being able to switch back and forth between reading and listening – especially with lengthy books, because it means I can keep reading even when I need to rest my eyes, but I can also go back and check things (which is very hard to do if one only has the audio version), or read some chapters the usual way if I’m in the mood for that.

I still find it harder to write reviews of audio books, because one does not pick up details in the same way as when seeing the text.

And as I’ve mostly listened to these two, I’ll just say that I found them enjoyable. Not all easy to keep up with all the various titles and finer nuances of the mid 1800s ecclesiastical, aristocratic and social hierarchy – which is pretty much what the author is mocking in these books, and also spinning his plots around – but even without looking up every detail of all that, one soon gets the drift. Society may have changed a bit over the last 150 years, but the ways we relate to other people really haven’t changed as much as we might like to think… (Prestige, envy, gossip etc.)

I really loved the poor honest warden’s struggles with his conscience in the first book (receiving very little or no credit for all his efforts to be just and fair); and all the misunderstandings in the second arising from people just assuming what’s going on in the minds of others, without really bothering to ask – for example!

I’ll continue reading/listening to the rest of this series. I find they make excellent “bedstories” as in the midst of all the intrigue they’re still kind of peaceful…

 [And in between reading, I have been out walking a lot in fine autumn weather! The photos in this post were taken on different occasions from the beginning of October to about a week ago.]

Book Review: Havana Sleeping by Martin Davies

On my Kindle, during the month of October, I’ve been reading Havana Sleeping by Martin Davies, also author of The Conjuror’s Bird, The Unicorn Road and The Year After. (The links go to my blog reviews of those books. The first title I read before my blogging days.)

This novel “of espionage, love and murder” (as the cover says) is set in Havana in the 1850’s. It is a fictional novel but based on some real events. The author’s notes on the historical background can be found in an afterword. They contain certain spoilers though, so on the whole I think I have to agree with the editor’s note (at the beginning) that they are best left till the end. (Which I did, even if there were times during the reading that I felt tempted…)

As in his earlier books, I find Davies very good at creating images of the past, and making the reader feel as if we were there, watching. However, with this novel I have to admit I found it hard to get “involved”, and to keep track of the male characters involved in this novel – like who is working for whom, in what capacity and even their nationality. The women in the story on the other hand are very few, and only one of them, a mulatta by name of Leonarda, really stands out as a main character. But even her role in among all these men is not easy to pin down – as she does not really fit into any accepted social patterns of her own time, but seems to move freely in and out of them as she pleases.

Looking back at the whole novel now, it hits me that in trying to express my frustration and confusion about the characters keeping to escape me (not to mention the whole mess of 1850’s English-American-Spanish-Cuban politics), I think I may actually have caught the very essence of it. This is not a story told from a clear black-or-white angle. (Which also makes Leonarda just the right person to lead us through it.) It may start out as a rather conventional murder mystery (which may lure us into also expecting a traditional ending) – but it turns out way more complicated than that. The whole novel is full of “red herrings” – just as politics and espionage tend to be…

My Kindle as usual asked me for a star rating when I reached the end. Hesitating between 3 and 4 (out of 5), I decided on 4, because I can’t get away from a feeling that the book is probably cleverer than I am. Whether in the long run it will turn out to have left a lasting impression – well, only time will be able to tell, when enough of it has passed! With ‘The Year After’ (the year after what?), I had to go back to my review now to remember what it was about. ‘The Conjuror’s Bird’ and ‘The Unicorn Road’ on the other hand - those titles immediately bring back impressions, even if not all the details. I suspect that with ‘Havana Sleeping’, the title itself may be a strong enough clue to conjure up images as well – even if I’ll probably soon forget names and who was who and played which part in the puzzle.

Quotes:

“In all his years in the Foreign Office, [he] had never been abroad. The realities of foreign postings were new to him, and evidently more complicated than he had anticipated.”

“She recognised them instantly. They were the friends she had grown up with, each of them exactly as she remembered. She knew them by the patterns of fading on their bindings, by their thumbed decreptitude, by the familiar rips and tatters on their spines. --- Memories so strong she felt the stirring of tears.”

“You don’t become a spy all at once. You don’t sign the articles. You probably don’t even know it’s happening.”

Allhallowtide (Friday My Town)

I have blogged about Swedish Halloween several times before. (You could probably click on October or November any year in my sidebar archive and find related posts.) When looking for a new angle, I came across the English word Allhallowtide, which is closer to the Swedish word (Allhelgona), and also to our tradions.

I learn that Allhallowtide was first used in 1471, and is derived from two words: the Old English word halig, meaning saint, and the word tide, meaning time or season. (These OE words are also closely related to Swedish words with the same meaning.) It  stands for the Western Christian observance of All Hallows' Eve (Hallowe'en), All Saints' Day (All Hallows'), and All Souls' Day, Oct 31 – Nov 2: “A time to remember the dead, including martyrs, saints, and all faithful departed Christians."

This year more than ever, honouring the dead seems a far better idea than dressing up in scary costumes to go trick-or-treat-ing… (Cf. my post from last week.)

We are still having beautiful autumn weather, and I took the opportunity today of going for a walk to my town’s largest (and newest) cemetery and visit my maternal grand-parents’ grave there, and also one other grave on mum’s side of the family.

This cemetery is like a huge natural park with a hilly landscape, lots of huge old trees, a stream with wooden bridges over it, a little lake, and a waterfall adding the sound of running water.

(Odd sculpture that I always find slightly disturbing…)

 

This magnificent bush I found on my way back home, so not really on “holy ground”… Nonetheless it reminded me of Moses and the burning bush! (Exodus chapter 3)

…

Friday My Town: Halloween

Crossings (Friday My Town)

One day about a month ago, I went for a walk to seek out one of the more out-of-the-way street art murals. This litte adventure also led me through an obscure part a of town that I, not having a car, very rarely visit: A huge parking area under the motorway.

Amateur graffitti - not encouraged by the Town.
But of course we have that kind too!

Professional graffitti – very much approved.

Friday My Town – Crossings

While looking at these photos, there are lots of thoughts crossing my mind - not really related to the photos, and yet this theme seems to underline them.

It has been a sad week in Sweden. I know it quickly spread to international media as well, so many of you probably already heard something about it.

On Thursday, a masked man with a sword entered a school in the town of Trollhättan. Some children that he passed by at first thought it was a Halloween prank (autumn break coming up next week). It soon turned out to be grim reality though. One teaching assistent and one student were killed, and two more injured. The police arrived quickly at the scene (only six minutes from the alarm) and the attacker was shot down. He died from the wounds later in hospital. The teaching assistent who died probably saved more students from being killed and/or injured. The police have found evidence that the attack was planned and the motive to do with racism, but that the killer was a loner rather than part of a group. (Investigations continue though.)

Together with Sweden just now being one of the countries in Europe receiving thousands of refugees every week (and some temporary housing planned for refugees also recently having been burnt to the ground), the situation has stirred up a lot of emotions and discussion.

The present socialist+green government and the four alliance opposition parties (previous government) have agreed on certain new/changed plans re how to deal with the refugee situation. (The extreme right party, the Sweden democrats, were not invited to even take part in these negotiations.)

Personally, the events at the school shook me a bit extra because it happened in my birth town, and even in the area of town where I once went to school myself at age 15. (I lived in a village outside town, but for junior high, we were bussed into town.) The school where it all happened now was not the same building, but that makes little difference. It still brings back memories. Even back in 1970, this was one of those suburb areas (then new) with quite a few problems attached. It seems to me that when a tragedy like this takes place, putting us all in a state of shock, people often react by saying things like “this could never have happened back in my day”. My memories of my school days are not all that idyllic. Yes socity has changed in many ways since then, and I’d say the general pace of things is higher now. But people are not really all that different…

We did not have computer games or cellphones back then, or even the Star Wars films (the killer wore a Darth Vader-like costume). It was also less obvious back in those days who might be a newcomer to the country (as most immigrants then came from European countries). But that does not mean that we lived in some sort of idyll free from antagonisms between groups, or free of alcohol and drug problems, psychiatric disorders or people with strange ideas (and carrying knives).

Where am I going with this? I hardly know myself… But reading/hearing various people’s comments and conclusions over the past few days, it strikes me that fear tends to spread much like random graffitti in obscure places, and that it’s really important in these situations to try and rescue some sober facts from obscurity, and paint a bigger picture to help our “selective memory”…

Autumn Fence

… for Good Fences