Today I’m wrapping up books I read in May and the first two weeks of June because I went on holiday for the rest of June. I’ll do the rest of the June books at the end of July.
I posted an article introducing a lesser known women poet called Aemilia Lanyer from Shakespeare’s time. She wrote a poetry collection which is dedicated to women and written for women. We looked at a section where she defends Eve and what she did in the Garden of Eden, with a feminist take on the Fall. I’m going to post a separate blog talking about the latest Shakespeare’s play I read, Love’s Labour’s Lost. I watched a recorded Globe production from 2010 and a live show in Stratford upon Avon featuring Luke Thompson, whom some of you might know as the second brother in ‘Bridgerton’. That was a highlight of May.
Because I’ve talked about those titles at length already, I’ll focus on the ones I haven’t mentioned in this post, The Year of Lear by James Shapiro, a non-fiction book about Shakespeare, North! Or Be Eaten, a children’s fantasy by Andrew Peterson, and Sea of Tranquility a work of speculative fiction by Emily St John Mandel.
The Year of Lear
1599: A year in the life of William Shakespeare by James Shapiro was one of my two favourite non-fiction books as well as my favourite book of the year last year. It’s about the year 1599 in Shakespeare’s life as well as the life of London and England.
1606: Shakespeare and the Year of Lear was published in 2015, about ten years after 1599 was published. Now we’re in 2024, almost ten years later again, I sincerely hope there will be another book by James Shapiro coming out soon, on another year of Shakespeare’s life. In the epilogue of 1606, Shapiro mentions two more creative bursts of Shakespeare, when twice more in his life, he wrote three plays in the space of one year or so. I really hope Shapiro is working on one of those! I want to know what happened when Shakespeare wrote every play, what historical events might have influenced his thinking, what gossip did he hear when his company performed in court, what sermons did he read and everything else that might have found their way into his plays.
I used to see Shakespeare’s works as things lifted out of time and space. But the author writes, “… it’s no more possible to talk about Shakespeare’s play independently of his age than it is to grasp what his society went through without the benefit of Shakespeare’s insight. He and his fellow players truly were, in Hamlet’s fine phrase, the ‘abstract and brief chronicles of the time’.” The author says in the prologue, “This book is about what Shakespeare wrote in 1606 and what was taking place at that fraught time, for the two are so closely intertwined that it’s difficult to grasp the meaning of one without the other.” 1606 is the year where Shakespeare wrote King Lear, Macbeth and Antony and Cleopatra. Can you imagine creating those three works within 12 months!?
A few things stood out from this book, one is the ins and outs of the Gunpowder Plot. According to this book, a lot of the year of 1606 lived in the shadow of 1605 when towards the end of the year, the Gunpowder Plot happened, well nearly happened and didn’t happen. The book makes me realise, isn’t this extraordinary? There are so many historical events in British history. There are not that many that we still commemorate today. The fact that it’s still on the calendar, says a lot about the effectiveness and success of its portrayal by the government, the propaganda at the time and over the following 400 years, and basically, the power of storytelling.
It is easy to forget that what sets the Gunpowder Plot apart from subsequent infamous terrorist plots (especially those also significant enough to be remembered by their date) is that in this case nothing happened. Which meant that, like one of those great Jacobean dramas, its impact and aftermath didn’t depend on actual violence but rather on making people imagine an unforgettable tragedy, the kind that feels as real as Lear or Macbeth.
Another topic that’s related to the Gunpowder Plot is the term equivocation, which means ‘ambiguity of speech; double meaning’. You might remember the porter in Macbeth talks about three people knocking, the last is an equivocator. That was an absolute buzzword at the time. And Macbeth is full of it. I loved reading about those.
The second thing that stood out to me is James the king – I knew very little about him before this. The third thing is Shakespeare as a Jacobean playwright. When we talk about Shakespeare and his time we usually think of the Elizabethan age. But Shakespeare’s company became the King’s Men in 1606 and for the last ten years of his life, he worked and lived in the Jacobean age.
One small complaint, in contrast to 1599, I feel like this talks about what happened during that time more than Shakespeare. I’m pretty sure a couple of chapters don’t mention Shakespeare at all. I remember sometimes feeling impatient to get to how all these are related to those three plays Shakespeare wrote that year. But apart from that, absolutely loved this.
North! Or Be Eaten
North! Or Be Eaten is a fantasy novel by Andrew Peterson for young people. It’s the second in the Wingfeather Saga. My feeling for the first in the series was a bit lukewarm. A lot of Christian parents I know really enjoy reading the stories with their kids but I’m on the hunt for the next Narnia for this generation so with that standard in mind, I have to say I’m not satisfied. Having said that, some crucial aspects of the Wingfeather Saga are way better than some other Christian novels for children I read.
Let me tell you roughly what the story is about first. We are introduced to the Igiby family, grandfather, mother and three children in the first book of the series, On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness. By the end of the first book, we discover that they are not simple village children, they actually are the heirs of a lost kingdom. In the second book, they are joined by an old scholar and family friend. They are on the run from the enemies and generally heading towards where the lost kingdom is located.
The family move through the story mostly together, and when they are separated, we follow the oldest sibling, Janner. I got to know Janner a lot in the second book. The author puts Janner, a twelve year old boy under enormous pressure. At points, I even felt it might have become too dark and cruel for the age of the readers. I didn’t enjoy the plot but I really got to see how our young hero reacts and behaves in a crisis. And I agree with Andrew Peterson’s approach.
I read other Christian novels for young people where the author would deal with difficult circumstances by sending help immediately; the young protagonist would ask for help and the God-figure in the story would appear immediately to save the day. Which I think can be unhelpful and misleading. It gives the impression that God will always come at your beckoning, as you see fit, and keep you happy. But in reality that’s not always the case. When that happens, what conclusion would that lead a child to? So I like how Andrew Peterson allows an incredibly loud silence at one crisis point. The Maker does not appear or send any help. It’s so much more relatable and gives much more scope for questioning and reflection, for both kids and adults. I really love the author’s decision here.
Janner wins my respect by the end of the story. One person that doesn’t is his mother, Nia. She doesn’t do anything bad of course, she’s the queen of this lost kingdom. But my problem with her is exactly that, she doesn’t do anything. Apart from a couple of short scenes, she doesn’t contribute much to the plot line. She’s not particularly kind or intelligent or brave, or helpful in their escape effort. I don’t like her but I don’t mind her there – she’s the children’s mother although she’s a bit bland, for the children’s sake it’s better they have her than not. Until the very end, she really annoys me when she feels entitled to bark out orders to some deeply injured and wronged creatures and boss them around. What makes her think her words would be of any worth or weight? She hasn’t won my respect or affection throughout the whole book like Janner or practically any other family member has. She might be set up as a queen but she doesn’t behave like one. I don’t think this is a good portrait of a queenly woman.
Sea of Tranquility
I decided to try The Sea of Tranquility by Emily St John Mandel because Station Eleven was my favourite novel last year. I thought if I liked it so much, I should read another book by the same author. I started with the audiobook and this was one of the very few audiobooks that I wouldn’t recommend. I listened to a few chapters and did not get the cold clear winter sky feeling of the writing that came through so strong from Station Eleven. So I stopped it and read it from the beginning again myself.
It’s a novel that’s sensitive to spoilers so I’ll be careful. It’s a story about the intertwining lives of a few characters which are connected by one supernatural event. There are many similarities between Sea of Tranquility and Station Eleven. In terms of the plot, we watch a few seemingly isolated characters who live in their own time and space and find out gradually how they are connected. The stories are told from different characters’ points of view. It carries on the theme of the pandemic in Station Eleven. In terms of the vibe, I have this peculiar feeling that we look at the characters from a godlike point of view. The author writes in a way that makes me feel like I’m hovering above and around them, sometimes I get very close and I can see their hair and their eyes, but I’m always ready to float away and retreat to a higher and more distant and detached place. I wonder if any writers out there can explain why. Overall I have to say it’s not Station Eleven. It doesn’t give me as strong and wonderfully complicated feelings. But it made me happy that Shakespeare features again.
Hope you’re having a good summer!
A Day of Small Things 