The Persephone Reading Weekend is here. I plan to live the life of (moderately priced) luxury this weekend and will be reading a short story collection published by Persephone, doing my nails, then dropping into town for a beer and embarrassing dancing filled evening with a couple of mates. My Persephone reading will resume on Sunday afternoon (see that sounds like a plan doesn’t it, I made a plan for the weekend, it is officially productive now).
Since I probably won’t be in front of my laptop for long enough to put together a full review and read other peoples posts I thought a way to post my thoughts quickly and squeeze more blog and book reading in would be to liveblog my part in Persephone weekend. If you want to know how I’m enjoying Irene Nemirovsky’s 'Dimanche and Other Stories’ check back at this post throughout the weekend to see me popping up thoughts and debating what to wear.
Let me kick this off with an attempt at making 'about to start the book' sound interesting:
Saturday 12:00: Off to start ‘Dimanche and Other Stories’. Anne Robinson hosted a series this week called ‘My Life in Books’ where celebrities picked works that influenced their life and one guilty pleasure. Hardip Sincola picked ‘The Communist Manifesto’. He seems very nice (and made some great points, did you catch the one about how everyone should make sure they’re actually reading female authors), but can someone explain how that is a guilty pleasure? I’ve read bits of it and there’s absolutely no sex by a pool to be found. Resolved again to read more books in translation so can have smug things to say about ‘The State of British Publishing!’ when inevitably make millions by (insert ideas here) and am invited on similar show. Will not start with ‘Dimanche’, translated from French :P
Saturday 17:00:
So far I’ve read three stories, the title one ‘Dimanche’ (‘Sunday’), ‘Les Rivages heureux (‘Those Happy Shores’) and ‘Liens du sang’ (‘Flesh and Blood’). Just to clarify, the Persephone is translated into English, but includes both French and English titles.
‘Dimanche’: *Sighs* I remembered Nemoriovsky as a brutally honest social commentator from ‘Fire in the Blood’ and ‘Du Bal’ and I knew I enjoyed her writing style, but I’d forgotten just what an evocative, provocative picture of life she can produce.
‘Dimanche’ takes place on ‘the first Sunday of spring, a warm and restless day that took people out of their houses and out of the city.’ The story follows the activities of one family, particularly the mother Agnes, her husband Guillame and her twenty year old daughter Nadine. Guillame, now forty and thickening, but still determined to behave and feel like a twenty year old looks at his wife who reminds him of his age and responsibility with ‘veiled hostility’. He leaves for his current mistress and stays out all night.
This leaves the focus on Agnes and her daughter. Agnes is a woman who thinks she has come through the pain of love and of being provoked into the suffering that accompanies love. She knows about Guillame’s affairs, but is past the jealousy that she used to feel, is past staying up waiting for him all night. She says during this glimpse into her life that she prefers to stay calm in her house which is a ‘refuge’ and that ‘it would be such a relief not to hope for anything anymore. In comparison at the beginning of the story Nadine is in the first flush of love with a young man called Remi. She is also in love with being beautiful, with luxury and being twenty. She can’t understand her mother, or imagine that she was ever as passionate as Nadine is now.
Nadine gets stood up by Remi who is at home with another woman. Agnes reflects that her love for Guillame was never returned and that her insistence that it would be if she gave him everything has led her into a relationship where she has given up on feeling. She wants to recapture that feeling, but feels that at her age love would be ‘unpleasant’ and instead wishes she was twenty again, like Nadine who (she thinks) doesn’t have to worry about love. As the story reaches its conclusion its clear that Agnes was once the same as Nadine and that she is not untroubled, or happy as her daughter thinks and as she said at the beginning of the story. From the final pages it seems that Nadine is following the same pattern in love that led her mother to her current state.
After three stories I feel like a big part of her writings success is due to her use of multiple adjectives. While modern writers are generally expected to pick one adjective or adverb to describe something Nemirovsky regularly picks several, for example in this passage:
‘And a picture came into her mind of her sitting in a taxi driving along the dark, wet avenues of the Bois de Boulogne; it was as if she could once again taste and smell the pure cold air coming in through the open window, as Guillame gently and cruelly felt her naked breast, as if he were squeezing juice from a fruit.’
Using several words to describe one detail of the narrative has the effect of slowing the rhythm of the book, allowing the reader to dwell on the small, descriptive parts that make up the world Nemirovsky is describing. The time spent on each detail also clarifies the characters feelings and experiences for the reader, so that it is easy for the reader to respond to the characters because they have so much detail about what these characters experienced to base their responses on. At the same time there’s still room for the reader to feel unsure about how exactly to respond to characters experiences. It seems clear that Agnes’ taste of ‘pure cold air’ is meant to imply that this experience is vigorous and pleasurably, but what does it mean that she tastes it after driving along ‘dark, wet avenues’? Is this a dark, wet atmosphere full of the exhilaration of secrecy and the freshness that comes after the rain, or a setting of soggy blackness? The multiple interpretations that these particular details allow feeds into the way the reader responds to the juxtaposition of Guillame ‘gently and cruelly’ touching her. Does he love her, does he want to hurt her and are both emotions mixed in together in the way that Agnes views a relationship?
‘Dimanche’ is all about the misunderstandings that occur between people who can’t know anyone but themselves. At its heart it’s also a story about daily cruelty between those who are closest, whether it’s wilful cruelty (like the kind Remi and Guillame inflict, as they say ‘I like making you suffer a bit’) or the kind of cruelty that comes from being callous and those misunderstandings I mentioned. Who suffers the most? Well, people in close relationships are almost always in pain in Nemirovsky’s stories; they have the most to lose and they do generally lose even when they think themselves winners. Nemirovsky has to be described as a tragic writer, even though she produces some pure moments that anyone would describe as uncomplicated beauty. In ‘Dimanche’ the mother daughter relationship is the most complicated and hard, unsatisfactory relationships between parents and children is a subject Nemirovsky returns to in her next two stories (and you have to read her separate novella ‘Le Bal’ if that’s a subject you’re interested in). Lovers also have a hard time, because the romantic relationships in this story are so unequal, with the women unable to wrestle devoted love from the men.
It’s the women who suffer most in ‘Dimanche’ and Nemirovsky does often return to the theme of women caught in painful situations they can’t control, but come back tomorrow and I might talk a bit about the universal characteristics that Nemirovsky puts into all her suffering characters whether they’re women or men. Right now I must go off and get ready to go out.
Sunday 17:46: One more episode of 'The Good Wife' and then back to Nemirovksy. As litlove asked I though I'd tell you I painted my nails Ruby Wine (red with a bit o'shimmer) last night and we had a blast hitting a couple of old guy pubs for beer then went to a club. So many males clad in plaid in the club everyone! Gentlemen we love plaid, but we feel that if the ladies are making an effort you should be working on your individual dress style too. Also hats indoors: we are undecided about this new male passion for headwear - what do you all say?
Sunday 23:09: The fourth story in this collection, ‘Fraternite’ (‘Brotherhood’), is much more obvious in its intentions than the three preceding stories. Christian is an anxious wealthy, older Jewish man who meets a poorer Jewish man with the same surname while waiting for a train. Despite their different economic statuses and their different levels of personal connection to their Jewish heritage Christian and this man (whose first name we never learn) are shown to be connected by their shared sense of a Jewish historical identity. Christian feels a sense of warmth towards this man when he discovers their shared surname, but that disappears as the man speaks in Yiddsh and talks about his own close connection to his Jewish ancestory. When Christian boards the train and gains some distance from the man he denies their connection. He meets his wealthy, non-Jewish friends from the train and in their company begins to feel happier and confident again, but his body, chilled and nervous continues to observe his ‘ancient inheritance’. Nemirovsky wants the reader to feel that being a Jew is a connecting thread between all Jewish people, no matter what level of society they occupy.
Christian is a character whose insecurities makes him act in a cold, false way towards someone who only wants to share a connection with him. His insecurities remind me of those of Christiane, a young, upper class woman from Nemirovsky’s second story ‘These Happy Shores’. Christiane is insecure about her place in the adult world of love and acts cynically, because she believes this makes her look like a woman of the world instead of a foolish girl. Christian is insecure about everything and I think Nemirovsky intends to make the reader question what has made him into such an insecure, anxious character. One answer is never enough for Nemirovsky and she provides the reader with a couple of factors that have shaped his personality, but there’s a lot less ambiguity in ‘Fraternite’ than in the three stories that come before it. It is clear from the text that Christian’s anxiety is created by several definite things, even if the relative importance of each factor is left unknown, whereas the reasons for Nadine, or Christiane’s insecure personalities are left open to reader interpretation.
So, connections in this collection after four stories: difficult parent child relationships (especially between mothers and daughters), pretensions and insecurities that create distress and cruelty, upper class life, unsatisfactory love and financial troubles. Cheery stuff.
I think I’ll just finish reading the fifth story ‘Wife to Don Juan’ and then get off to bed. Happy Persephone Reading Weekend everyone!
Since I probably won’t be in front of my laptop for long enough to put together a full review and read other peoples posts I thought a way to post my thoughts quickly and squeeze more blog and book reading in would be to liveblog my part in Persephone weekend. If you want to know how I’m enjoying Irene Nemirovsky’s 'Dimanche and Other Stories’ check back at this post throughout the weekend to see me popping up thoughts and debating what to wear.
Let me kick this off with an attempt at making 'about to start the book' sound interesting:
Saturday 12:00: Off to start ‘Dimanche and Other Stories’. Anne Robinson hosted a series this week called ‘My Life in Books’ where celebrities picked works that influenced their life and one guilty pleasure. Hardip Sincola picked ‘The Communist Manifesto’. He seems very nice (and made some great points, did you catch the one about how everyone should make sure they’re actually reading female authors), but can someone explain how that is a guilty pleasure? I’ve read bits of it and there’s absolutely no sex by a pool to be found. Resolved again to read more books in translation so can have smug things to say about ‘The State of British Publishing!’ when inevitably make millions by (insert ideas here) and am invited on similar show. Will not start with ‘Dimanche’, translated from French :P
Saturday 17:00:
So far I’ve read three stories, the title one ‘Dimanche’ (‘Sunday’), ‘Les Rivages heureux (‘Those Happy Shores’) and ‘Liens du sang’ (‘Flesh and Blood’). Just to clarify, the Persephone is translated into English, but includes both French and English titles.
‘Dimanche’: *Sighs* I remembered Nemoriovsky as a brutally honest social commentator from ‘Fire in the Blood’ and ‘Du Bal’ and I knew I enjoyed her writing style, but I’d forgotten just what an evocative, provocative picture of life she can produce.
‘Dimanche’ takes place on ‘the first Sunday of spring, a warm and restless day that took people out of their houses and out of the city.’ The story follows the activities of one family, particularly the mother Agnes, her husband Guillame and her twenty year old daughter Nadine. Guillame, now forty and thickening, but still determined to behave and feel like a twenty year old looks at his wife who reminds him of his age and responsibility with ‘veiled hostility’. He leaves for his current mistress and stays out all night.
This leaves the focus on Agnes and her daughter. Agnes is a woman who thinks she has come through the pain of love and of being provoked into the suffering that accompanies love. She knows about Guillame’s affairs, but is past the jealousy that she used to feel, is past staying up waiting for him all night. She says during this glimpse into her life that she prefers to stay calm in her house which is a ‘refuge’ and that ‘it would be such a relief not to hope for anything anymore. In comparison at the beginning of the story Nadine is in the first flush of love with a young man called Remi. She is also in love with being beautiful, with luxury and being twenty. She can’t understand her mother, or imagine that she was ever as passionate as Nadine is now.
Nadine gets stood up by Remi who is at home with another woman. Agnes reflects that her love for Guillame was never returned and that her insistence that it would be if she gave him everything has led her into a relationship where she has given up on feeling. She wants to recapture that feeling, but feels that at her age love would be ‘unpleasant’ and instead wishes she was twenty again, like Nadine who (she thinks) doesn’t have to worry about love. As the story reaches its conclusion its clear that Agnes was once the same as Nadine and that she is not untroubled, or happy as her daughter thinks and as she said at the beginning of the story. From the final pages it seems that Nadine is following the same pattern in love that led her mother to her current state.
After three stories I feel like a big part of her writings success is due to her use of multiple adjectives. While modern writers are generally expected to pick one adjective or adverb to describe something Nemirovsky regularly picks several, for example in this passage:
‘And a picture came into her mind of her sitting in a taxi driving along the dark, wet avenues of the Bois de Boulogne; it was as if she could once again taste and smell the pure cold air coming in through the open window, as Guillame gently and cruelly felt her naked breast, as if he were squeezing juice from a fruit.’
Using several words to describe one detail of the narrative has the effect of slowing the rhythm of the book, allowing the reader to dwell on the small, descriptive parts that make up the world Nemirovsky is describing. The time spent on each detail also clarifies the characters feelings and experiences for the reader, so that it is easy for the reader to respond to the characters because they have so much detail about what these characters experienced to base their responses on. At the same time there’s still room for the reader to feel unsure about how exactly to respond to characters experiences. It seems clear that Agnes’ taste of ‘pure cold air’ is meant to imply that this experience is vigorous and pleasurably, but what does it mean that she tastes it after driving along ‘dark, wet avenues’? Is this a dark, wet atmosphere full of the exhilaration of secrecy and the freshness that comes after the rain, or a setting of soggy blackness? The multiple interpretations that these particular details allow feeds into the way the reader responds to the juxtaposition of Guillame ‘gently and cruelly’ touching her. Does he love her, does he want to hurt her and are both emotions mixed in together in the way that Agnes views a relationship?
‘Dimanche’ is all about the misunderstandings that occur between people who can’t know anyone but themselves. At its heart it’s also a story about daily cruelty between those who are closest, whether it’s wilful cruelty (like the kind Remi and Guillame inflict, as they say ‘I like making you suffer a bit’) or the kind of cruelty that comes from being callous and those misunderstandings I mentioned. Who suffers the most? Well, people in close relationships are almost always in pain in Nemirovsky’s stories; they have the most to lose and they do generally lose even when they think themselves winners. Nemirovsky has to be described as a tragic writer, even though she produces some pure moments that anyone would describe as uncomplicated beauty. In ‘Dimanche’ the mother daughter relationship is the most complicated and hard, unsatisfactory relationships between parents and children is a subject Nemirovsky returns to in her next two stories (and you have to read her separate novella ‘Le Bal’ if that’s a subject you’re interested in). Lovers also have a hard time, because the romantic relationships in this story are so unequal, with the women unable to wrestle devoted love from the men.
It’s the women who suffer most in ‘Dimanche’ and Nemirovsky does often return to the theme of women caught in painful situations they can’t control, but come back tomorrow and I might talk a bit about the universal characteristics that Nemirovsky puts into all her suffering characters whether they’re women or men. Right now I must go off and get ready to go out.
Sunday 17:46: One more episode of 'The Good Wife' and then back to Nemirovksy. As litlove asked I though I'd tell you I painted my nails Ruby Wine (red with a bit o'shimmer) last night and we had a blast hitting a couple of old guy pubs for beer then went to a club. So many males clad in plaid in the club everyone! Gentlemen we love plaid, but we feel that if the ladies are making an effort you should be working on your individual dress style too. Also hats indoors: we are undecided about this new male passion for headwear - what do you all say?
Sunday 23:09: The fourth story in this collection, ‘Fraternite’ (‘Brotherhood’), is much more obvious in its intentions than the three preceding stories. Christian is an anxious wealthy, older Jewish man who meets a poorer Jewish man with the same surname while waiting for a train. Despite their different economic statuses and their different levels of personal connection to their Jewish heritage Christian and this man (whose first name we never learn) are shown to be connected by their shared sense of a Jewish historical identity. Christian feels a sense of warmth towards this man when he discovers their shared surname, but that disappears as the man speaks in Yiddsh and talks about his own close connection to his Jewish ancestory. When Christian boards the train and gains some distance from the man he denies their connection. He meets his wealthy, non-Jewish friends from the train and in their company begins to feel happier and confident again, but his body, chilled and nervous continues to observe his ‘ancient inheritance’. Nemirovsky wants the reader to feel that being a Jew is a connecting thread between all Jewish people, no matter what level of society they occupy.
Christian is a character whose insecurities makes him act in a cold, false way towards someone who only wants to share a connection with him. His insecurities remind me of those of Christiane, a young, upper class woman from Nemirovsky’s second story ‘These Happy Shores’. Christiane is insecure about her place in the adult world of love and acts cynically, because she believes this makes her look like a woman of the world instead of a foolish girl. Christian is insecure about everything and I think Nemirovsky intends to make the reader question what has made him into such an insecure, anxious character. One answer is never enough for Nemirovsky and she provides the reader with a couple of factors that have shaped his personality, but there’s a lot less ambiguity in ‘Fraternite’ than in the three stories that come before it. It is clear from the text that Christian’s anxiety is created by several definite things, even if the relative importance of each factor is left unknown, whereas the reasons for Nadine, or Christiane’s insecure personalities are left open to reader interpretation.
So, connections in this collection after four stories: difficult parent child relationships (especially between mothers and daughters), pretensions and insecurities that create distress and cruelty, upper class life, unsatisfactory love and financial troubles. Cheery stuff.
I think I’ll just finish reading the fifth story ‘Wife to Don Juan’ and then get off to bed. Happy Persephone Reading Weekend everyone!