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« This Week's Last Month's Acquisitions | Main | I want to suck your blood (at Pemberley) »

August 15, 2009



On the other hand, I strongly recommend Colm Toibin's novel, The Master, a fictionalized account of the life of Henry James. I expected it would be slow going, but I was pleasantly surprised at how accessible it was. Toibin was especially good at showing how incidents and anecdotes in James's life planted seeds that yielded fruit years later--and I felt that I understood James's emotional paralysis, his inability to act on signals sent out by others, and his simultaneous desires for solitude and human companionship. At no point did I feel that I was actually reading an account of Toibin's life (although, admittedly, I don't know much about Toibin). If you haven't already read it, you might enjoy this far more than something like Charlotte Bronte's Diaries (blech!)


I liked Toibin's novel quite a bit--in part because he doesn't fall prey to this particular convention.

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