Because it's my blog...

.... and the end of the year.

Yes, this is the full seven and a half minutes, with lyrics included. It's got that relentlessness that certain Dylan songs have that I love (Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands is another. And Idiot Wind). And notably, it contains one of the best lines in a song ever: The ghost of 'lectricity howls in the bones of her face.

I LOVE THIS SONG!



Happy new year to you all.

My last post of the year: the meaning of mistletoe

What do you know about mistletoe?

The Christmas tradition is that kisses can be claimed beneath it, but where does the tradition come from?

It seems to be related to the Norse myth of Baldur, a classic resurrection myth. Baldur's mother was Frigga, a Norse goddess. She made every plant and animal promise not to harm Baldur - except the mistletoe which she overlooked. The Norse god of mischief, Loki, tricked one of the other gods into killing Baldur with a spear made from mistletoe. Following his death, winter came into the world. Frigga wept and wept so much her tears turned the formerly red berries of the mistletoe white. Baldur was resurrected and the mistletoe pronounced to be sacred: henceforth it should only bring love - not death - into the world. Baldur's resurrection was acknowedged by kissing under the mistletoe.

What else? Well, apparently mistletoe has a long history as an aphrodisiac and fertility symbol in which case, the kissing takes on a more interesting dimension.

Mistletoe isn't terribly prevalent in the UK. It's most likely to be found in the Southern counties of Hereford, Worcester, Gloucester and Somerset - we don't get it in Scotland. Presumably it's more common in Scandanavia and can also be found readily in certain parts of North America.

I like the idea of innocuous Christmas kisses containing layers of meaning related to uninhibited sexuality and love-beyond-death.

So that's my last musings of 2009. I'm taking a break from blogging till 2010. I will be blog-hopping though.

Christmas is me, Mr Tumperkin, the Tumperkinettes and associated family. We have our turkey already and I have ambitious canape plans. After Christmas we have the annual Edinburgh panto to look forward to (a tradition - this is our 4th year). This year it's Robinson Crusoe and the Pirates of the Caribbean. New Year we will be celebrating with my in-laws in Yorkshire. No mistletoe there either, but we have every hope of the current snowy weather continuing. Such joy.

I hope you all enjoy your Christmas whether you celebrate the festival itself or not. Happy yule, y'all.

T x

On reader-belief and readers' beliefs

I know. I'm getting like a cracked record. And I can't even say that this is the last post on this topic.

Reader-belief, I have spoken of before. Bringing the reader to a state of belief (Coleridge's Willing Suspension of Disbelief) seems to me to be the thing that tips the balance from an adequate book to a good book. When I think of the books I've loved, I've always believed in them. Books that disappoint me, well, I'm always standing outside them, looking in, aware of the author who penned the words. Here are the words (s)he wrote, I think, as I read.

The post linked to above on reader belief was chiefly concerned with the importance of the state of belief. A second question is how that belief is earned. I touched on it briefly when I wondered:

... if [reader-writer] chemistry is related to the willingness of the reader to believe and the author's ability to meet that desire. I am a very willing and open reader to certain authors who have won my trust. Similarly, certain tropes and characters will easily pique my interest. Other authors, tropes, characters will have to do more to win me over. There are certain fictional elements that I have strong barriers to because they clash so badly with other views or sensitivities I possess.

It is this second question that I've been considering recently. It started when I read about an inspirational romance at Wendy SL's. I've noticed posts about inspirational romances before - indeed I think there was a review of one on DA recently as well. But I noticed that one because of my reaction to it. And that reaction was: I really don't want to read that.

Please note, this post is not about inspirational romances. It is about reader-belief. However, to explain the point I have to make an incidental point which is this: I am an aetheist. And the idea of a romance in which one of the protganists is converted to a particular faith is one I find distinctly unappealing.

Now, I have read many books that have religion in them. One of my favourite romances is Flowers From the Storm which features a quaker heroine and which has the heroine's faith absolutely at the centre of book. But that's fine with me, because the purpose of that story is not to convert the hero. He doesn't become a quaker (and indeed, from my very restricted knowledge of quakers, they are not evangelical in that way). Similarly, Mary Balogh's books are full of quite low-key religious/mystical sentiments and that doesn't bother me in the slightest either. My aetheism does not make me intolerant of the presence of religion in books or in characters or even in plot or theme. It is the idea of conversion that I dislike. It's the idea of the novel as a tool in that way.

So what has this got to do with reader-belief? Well, it's back to the point I made in that earlier post about how certain views you hold can impact on reader-belief. I've mentioned frequently my difficulties with books in which killing is treated lightly. For example, here and here. Where a book contradicts my personal values, it inhibits my ability to believe. Even my wish to believe.

The Willing Suspension of Disbelief (although I prefer to think of it as an active act of belief rather than a passive suspension of disbelief) is something that arises through a number of factors: the worldbuilding, the quality of the prose, the degree and nature of the conflict, the authenticity of the characters etc.

A number of things might happen to disrupt the belief. There may be a very badly written sentence. There may be a glaring historical anachronism or factual error of some description. These are events that pull the reader out of their 'zone'; that disrupt the belief. Another thing that disrupts the belief is when the book contains something that conflicts with the reader's personal values. And for me, that includes the 'finding God' part of an inspirational romance.

What do you think? Do stories that include beliefs or values you disagree with turn you off? Do you have personal triggers that bother you? Or are you the kind of reader that can read anything with an open mind?

What I've been reading lately

Rather than a review, I thought it might be interesting to literally track my reading over a week and the briefest impressions of what I've read. This doesn't include work reading or blog posts.

1. Winter of Dreams by Susan Napier - given to me by Laura Vivanco

Laura thought I might like this high conflict category. And it was ok. The H/H were both artists and there was a hidden identity storyline. I quite like Susan Napier. She's written a couple of shockers - I still cringe when I think of the scene in The Cruellest Lie where the hero paws the heroine in front of his son to show she 'belongs' to him - but I think she's one of those writers who really makes efforts to so something different and interesting with the category format. This

one wasn't particularly great but I quite liked it.

2. The Longest Night by Jennifer Ashley one of the novellas in A Christmas Ball anthology - bought from Amazon

I couldn't finish this. I like Christmas anthologies (best ever is Under the Mistletoe by Mary Balogh - four Baloghs, all Christmas-themed - bliss) and was keen to read more Ashley, having enjoyed The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie so much. Unfortunately, this didn't work for me. I've only tried one other Ashley, The Mad Bad Duke which was a DNF for me, an odd paranormal Regency featuring the rather alarming Nvengarians, some of whom are 'logosh' (shapeshifters). I really tried with the Mad Bad Duke, but I found the world it evoked rather OTT and uncompelling. Unfortunately, The Longest Night was another Nvengarian outing, and another DNF for me.

3. Christmas edition of The Radio Times - bought from supermarket

This is a Christmas tradition, even now that I don't watch television much.

4. Lord Perfect by Loretta Chase - given to me by Laura Vivanco

I've previously commented that, with the exception of Lord of Scoundrels, Chase doesn't seem to work for me as a writer. I've quite liked the other books I've read of hers but it's never really got beyond 'quite liking'. And Lord Perfect is no exception.

This book features the H/H (Bathsheba and Benedict) chasing her daughter and his nephew, who have set off on an adventure, across the country and falling in love in the process. My problem? No real conflict between the H/H. I think this is something that has cropped up for me in other Chase books. Her characters quite often behave in a way that is 'rational' or not 'typical' for a romance character. And on one level I'm thinking, yes, well, he/she's not acting in a WTF manner. But on the other hand, there's no conflict. So for example, you have Bathsheba not telling Benedict she loves him.... then getting out of bed and meeting him in the garden to tell him she loves him because she doesn't want them to part the next day without him knowing.

Oh, right. *disappointed expression*

And then, puzzlingly, we simultaneously get this acceptance on both their parts that they can't be together, a point that was presumably all about Bathsheba's ineligibility, but that wasn't really articulated in a way that I found convincing - not when Benedict seemed so much his own man.

Disappointing.

5. The Observer - bought from corner shop

Sunday newspaper.

6. Peace At Night by Jill Munro - present from my husband's late auntie for my older son some years ago now

The little one gets two books at bedtime. And for the last several weeks, he's been choosing the same two books every night, this one and Time, a ladybird book in which we follow Billy, Sally and their family through a typical day. I can recite Peace at Night by heart.

The hour was late.

Mr Bear was tired, Mrs Bear was tired, and Baby Bear was tired.

So they all went to bed.

Mrs Bear fell asleep.

Mr Bear didn't.....

7. Wicked All Day by Liz Carlyle - bought from Amazon

This is my current read. I'm halfway and actually, thoroughly enjoying it. On one view, it's one of those of More of The Same books, not dissimilar to a few other Carlyles I've read and arguably some of the characters' sentiments feel too modern. But I'm really enjoying Mercer, the hero, who's just the right side of tortured.

I know all the other characters in the book, and actually, I'm finding that that's enriching this read for me, which I suspect might otherwise feel rather slight. Interesting.

What are you reading that's working? Or not?

Friday music: my favourite free-jazz modern sea shanty

I'm thinking I'm going to make my music post a Friday feature. I know lots of people aren't crazy about videos/ music in blogs but - as regular readers may have gathered - I love blogging about it. And actually, unlike the romance blogging, I don't crave any feedback. These posts are kind of just for me.

So, my very favourite free-jazz modern sea shanty? Well, it's a difficult call, but I've got to say, Sea Song by Robert Wyatt. There are some really great versions of this, but I'm embedding the Tears for Fears version because it's a bit more accessible than the original from Wyatt's Rock Bottom album which has a lengthy bit of free jazz at the end - though I prefer it. I'd also highly recommend the version by Rachel Unthank & the Winterset.

The words are gorgeous:

You look different every time you come
From the foam-crested brine,
Your skin shining softly in the moonlight.
Partly fish, partly porpoise, partly baby sperm whale,
Am I yours? Are you mine to play with?
Joking apart - when you're drunk, you're terrific when you're drunk
I like you mostly late at night - you're quite alright.
But I can't understand the different you in the morning
When it's time to play at being human for a while. Please smile.
You'll be different in the spring, I know,
You're a seasonal beast, like the starfish that drift in with the tide, with the tide.
So until your blood runs to meet the next full moon,
Your madness fits in nicely with my own.
Your lunacy fits neatly with my own, my very own.
We're not alone.

Apologies for the gratuitous 80s slide show.

More thoughts on romance novels and the reading experience

I know! I am fascinated with this topic.

So, my latest thoughts stem out of Jessica's post on trying to teach To Have and To Hold by Pat Gaffney to her ethical criticism class. It's a great post with a lot of interesting comments which I urge you to read if you have not already done so. It raises lots of questions (not least among them, what ethical criticism is) but I want to draw out one very specific point that arose in my mind and generally hit home with me and my utter obsession about why I read romance and what is particular about reading romance.

Jessica described in her post the difficulties of teaching a romance novel to her class with particular reference to the reaction from her students that the ending was 'unrealistic' and that they didn't 'buy' it.

When I thought about it, it seemed to me that that was actually quite an understandable reaction - particularly given that THATH is controversial even amongst romance readers for having forced sex between the H/H at an early stage followed by an HEA. And of course, this being an ethical criticism class, I imagined that there would be a focus on the ethics of this troublesome book. Part of my comment read as follows:

Assuming you were looking at THATH purely from an ethical perspective, I’ve tried to think about what my take would have been coming to it as a new reader and being asked to read it for a class which will focus ethical issues.

Looking at it from that perspective, I’m not sure I’d have taken a different view from your students (and this is coming from someone who loves THATH deeply). And from that perspective, perhaps I’m not surprised that the female students were more hostile to it.

I love THATH for many reasons – the writer’s craft, the power play between the H/H and the powerfully realised redemption. As a romance, it delivers hugely for me. If I read it from a different perspective, I might find it troubling for all the
reasons your students expressed.

And how do I explain that discrepancy between reading as a romance reader and reading from a primarily ethical perspective? Well, in my view, essentially, a romance is *about* the central love story in the sense of everything else being setting. So, in THATH, those ethical issues, for me, are an interesting bit of setting – but they don’t dwarf or overset the romance.

Now at the risk of generalising hugely (and I do appreciate just how gargantuan a simplicfication this is) my feeling is that a lot of literary fiction is *basically* about ethics. What happens to the characters is incidental in a way that simply isn’t the case in a romance. And if that means that HEAs are rare, then that is just as justifiable as the preponderance of HEAs are in romance.

Whilst I'm not sure that 'setting' is really the best way to describe everything in a romance other than the love story, this is basically my view about romance. You can build a lot of interesting stuff around the love story, but the love story is at the heart of it and that story arc has to satisfy above and beyond anything else. By contrast, the ambitions of a bit of literary ficiton are wholly different and somewhat more diffuse.

Robin later commented:

As someone who did not start reading Romance in my teens or twenties, I had a distinct conversion experience into the genre, and it took me a while to adjust. For example, the first time I read Kinsale’s The Shadow and the Star, I felt that Leda was the “typical” (read: anti-feminist) example of how I was conditioned to see Romance heroines (naive, innocent, “pure,” traditionally dependent on the hero, etc.). It wasn’t until I adjusted to the coding in the genre that I could re-read the book and see her differently. So I firmly believe that the genre requires indoctrination into the coding and that genre readers, even when we disagree about specific books, understand the *language* of the genre in a different way from those who do not read in the genre.

......For example, we know fairy tales have HEA’s, but ppl tend to see them as fantasy. Again, Romance readers have a way of coding “fantasy” in the Romance genre in a different, I would argue, unique way, one that isn’t precisely the same as a Disney movie or a romantic comedy movie or even an action flick like Die Hard where the good guy prevails and saves the day (and the innocent)....

This comment really chimed with me - this idea of understanding the 'code'. Unlike Robin, I read romance early - I started picking up my mum's Mills & Boons when I was around 10/11. In fact, I've previously spoken about being 'imprinted' on romance at early age and I have seriously wondered whether that early exposure to romance - and some pretty high conflict romance - fixed my reading preferences early. I still remember my teenage Georgette Heyer phase. I read almost all of her Regencies over a couple of years and that immersion cumulatively built up a degree of comfort and fascination with that particular historical setting that remains with me to this day.

As a child and teenager, you're used to coming to things new, learning the language and codes of different bits of the adult world. It's different when you come to new things as an adult. I've come to certain sub-genres of romance as an adult, such as paranormal romance, with its supersized stakes and fated mates tropes. And I've had to go through the adjustment process that Robin described with that. I disliked the first few fated mates stories I read, and to be honest I doubt it will ever be a favourite trope of mine, but now at least I appreciate its appeal and can enjoy it for what it offers in terms of that crucial romance arc.

What do you think? Do you read romance primarily for the love story and regard the rest of the story as setting as I do? Or do you, for example, relish the mystery in a romantic suspense just as much as the love story? Do you think there is a genre language that you 'learn' the more you read? Are there some sub-genres whose language you are very comfortable with and others you are less comfortable with?

Version control: Surabaya Johnny....... you swine!

I posted last week about how much I very love the Kurt Weill song Surabaya Johnny. See my visual (right) for the eponymous Johnny - Valentino, natch, except that, given that he spends so much time in Buuurrrmmma, a pith helmet on his handsome head, methinks.

My favourite version is one by Robyn Archer (per my last post) but you can't get it on the You Tube.

Darn.

And the problem with this marvellously overwrought song is that there is a very very fine line between sublime and ridiculous. Also I am very very fussy about the interpretation.

The main thing I love about this song is that it's a brilliant evocation of a woman's mixed feelings about the scoundrel she's in love with. In short, she knows he's a rat, but she still loves him, helplessly and painfully.

It's a real torch song.

Each of the verses is a bitter rehearsal of Johnny's shortcomings and then the refrain is a lush bittersweet hymn to the singer's doomed love for him. So it has a sort of duality/dialogue/opposition about it that I absolutely adore.



Some favourite lines (these to be delivered in jaded harsh tones):

You talked a lot, Johnny,

A lot of lies, Johnny,

.....

I hate you so, Johnny

....

Take that pipe out of your mouth,

You swine...


A good interpretation of this song should marry jaded, painful bitterness during the verses with a bleak adoration in the refrain. There is no room for embarrassment in any performance of this song. You have to really go for it.

There are some excellent versions available in the original German. This Ute Lemper version is superb but despite her virtuoso performance, I find myself preferring more restrained one by Nina Hagen and of course there's the classic version by Lotte Lenya.

It's much more difficult to find a great English version. This one by Dagmer Krause is played with a straight bat but doesn't really work for me. And this one by Megan Mullaly is interesting - a spoiled brat version - but I'm not sold.

Interestingly, this is a song that works whatever the gender of the singer. Here is Marc Almond's version and here is Jacob von Mourik's German version which actually is one of my favourites - it's lovely.

So what version will I leave you with?

Lotte Lenya.

She doesn't have the best voice of all these versions, but the emotions are so true that actually it's not overwrought at all. Just really lovely.

I'm really quite excited to be blogging about Morning Glory by Lavyrle Spencer. It seems to be a much-loved book. See for example, Azteclady's glowing review over at Dear Author and the numerous comments that follow.

You will see that I am saying I am 'blogging about' the book rather than reviewing it. This is not a review. I do sometimes try to write what might pass as a review, but generally, that's not what I'm interested in. What I'm interested in - and why I blog - is because I want to share my gut feelings about whatever I've been reading. That can sometimes mean that I pass over stuff that would be vital in a review.

To my mind, a review should look at the book pretty comprehensively. It should give some (at least brief) thoughts on the story, characters and prose. If I write a 'review' (usually for other blogs) I will try to do at least that.

But this is not a review. This blog post is prompted by the fact that I have a few particular things to say about this book. But these things are not the sum total of my reading experience of this book. And so, in the interests of giving you some flavour of where I was when I closed this book, I will ask you to take the following as read:

- I really enjoyed this book;
- the writing quality was very good;
- the romance was heartfelt and satisfying;
- the ending was pleasing;
- the characters were beautifully drawn.

So, now that we've got that out of the way, get a load of this:

This is the inner 'secret' cover of the book. What do you think? How does this picture strike you? It's actually quite a useful picture, in terms of orientating the reader. We see a slightly dilapidated house, barefoot children and mother, the hero in jeans with a pile of tools at his feet. The heroine has a sweet, loving expression on her face and the hero is looking up at her adoringly - an interesting expression of their relationship.

Just to orientate you a little more, a very brief plot summary: when the book starts, Elly is pregnant, having lost her husband a few months previously and Will is drifting through her town, an ex-convict recently released from prison. Elly has two children already and is desperate. Her house is falling about her ears - she has placed an advert for a husband. Will too is desperate - he answers the advert. She lets him stay, and after a short while, they marry. Gradually, they fall in love, only to be parted by the war before being reunited for their HEA. There is an additional plot-line involving the 'town slut' Lula Peake.

My thoughts in no particular order:

1. The Romance

The thing that made this book really stand out for me, was the development of the romance. It really was very beautiful indeed. Will and Elly both start this book in a bad way. Interestingly, although they are both wounded souls, Elly is very much in the 'healer' role and Will is transformed through the bestowal of her love upon him. By contrast, Elly's doesn't seem to need Will's love in the same way - he does make her life better and gives her a greater sense of self-worth, but she doesn't seem transformed by it as he is by hers.

The growth to love is beautifully done. They start with respect, then attraction, then trust, growing finally to a deep mature love that feels very real and permanent. One thing I found fascinating is that Spencer is very overt in showing that part of the attraction of Elly for Will is in her being a mother figure. He loves her as a mother of her own children, feeling wistful when he sees her lavishing maternal love on them and wanting it for himself; and later, enjoying the maternal affection she shows him. This sense of the heroine as a font of maternal love is something that I think is *in* a lot of romance novels but that is not usually overtly acknowledged so it was interesting to see it expressed here.

2. Lula

The additional bit of plot involving Lula, was the one weak part of the book for me. It largely book-ends the novel with a couple of chapters at the start and a couple more at the end, leaving me wondering if was added on to make it longer or add some more obvious conflict. In my view, the novel would have been better without it. There was plenty enough action as it was.

It wasn't merely the tacked-on sense of this bit of the story that bothered me though - it was what it actually involved. And for me, how it related to part of Will's backstory. THERE BE SPOILERS HERE

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My first problem:

Will was convicted of killing a whore - it was for that crime that he served five years in prison. When we finally heard the story of that crime, I was slightly taken aback. There was no mistake. He did kill the whore. And there was no sense that he felt bad about it. The story given around the events of the crime was presented with the implication that Will was not to blame for what happened. Despite the fact that the killing was not intentional, I found Will's self-pity and lack of remorse for the actual consequences of what he did off-putting. The sub-text was that victim's death didn't really matter because she was a money-loving prostitute.

My second problem:

This mind-set seemed to carry over into the Lula storyline. Lula is not a pleasant character. She is selfish, money-grabbing and unpleasant. She is also a promiscuous single woman living in a small town in 1941. Lula decides the moment she sees Will that she is going to have him and pursues him aggressively, even threateningly, despite his lack of interest. In short, she is a panto-villainess who ends up dead. Will is blamed for her death and Elly has to prove his innocence.

Again, the sub-text is that Lula had it coming. What else could a woman like her expect? At the trial, witnesses actually joke about her promiscuity while on the stand. I found that a bit nauseating.

Now, I don't want to overegg the pudding here. This issue did not ruin the book for me. But, yes, I found it disturbing. Perhaps more so, because of the point arising twice, both in Will's backstory and with Lula. I found myself asking, what is Spencer getting at here?

3. The fast-revolving omniscient POV

As I read this book, I realised how used I've become to the standard third person POV that switches between the hero and heroine. With the odd exception, that is very much the norm for the majority of romance I read and it's also my favourite form of narration for straightforward romance: deep POV that explores the emotions of the hero and heroine thoroughly.

Morning Glory, however, is written with an omniscient narration. As well as Will's POV and Elly's POVs we also get bits of Lula and Miss Beasley. And then we get dual-POV that felt unusual to me. Like this:

In the end, neither of them moved. She lay with her hands atop her swollen stomach, her heart hammering frantically, afraid of rejection, ridicule, the things she had been seasoned by life to expect.

He lay feeling unlovable due to his spotty past and the fact that no woman including his own mother had found him worth the effort. So why should Elly?

And so they talked and gazed during those lanternlit nights of acquaintance - crazy Eleanor and her ex-con husband - learning respect for each other, wondering when and if that first seeking might happen, each hesitant to reach out for what they both needed.

Maybe I've just become much more POV-sensitive since I started seriously trying to write myself (the first time I got a bit of my own writing critiqued, my uneven POV was the major gripe) but I found these bits - which were peppered throughout the book - unsatisfying; they felt very 'tell' and quite distant, quite unintimate.

But let me finish by reiterating my words of earlier. Notwithstanding these gripes, I really did enjoy this book. The romance arc is one of the most beautifully realised I've read and I'd highly recommend it despite my reservations.