Monthly Archives: March 2016

Mary Wollstonecraft, a Romantic Outlaw

Mary Wollstonecraft has been important in my life for nearly fifty years. I was studying history in 1970 with the great EP Thompson, author of The Making of the English Working Class. Our small group of undergraduates were exploring the English radicals of the 1790s. The previous year I had picked up a copy of Mary Wollstonecraft’s A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (price 7/6d). As a special project for my history degree I explored Mary Wollstonecraft’s radicalism. There were no available biographies so most of my work was done from primary sources. It was the beginning of the second wave of feminism and we hadn’t really discovered Mary Wollstonecraft yet. I spent happy hours in the Bodleian Library in Oxford, and browsed copies of radical journals lent to me by EP Thompson. My husband wrote my married name and ‘her book’ on the first page. I wrote my paper, and feminism took off.

Romantic Outlaws

241 Rom Outlaws cover

Over the last few weeks I have been reading the very detailed dual biography of Mary Wollstonecraft and her daughter Mary Shelley called Romantic Outlaws: the extraordinary lives of Mary Wollstonecraft and Mary Shelley by Charlotte Gordon. Charlotte Gordon’s book is very long. The chapters on the lives of the two women alternate. This has the effect of showing up the similarities and the differences in the lives of the two women. It also means that the cast of characters gets unwieldy, and you loose track of which semi-famous person came into which Mary’s life. In this post I am focussing on Mary Wollstonecraft and I will reserve Mary Shelley for a later blog.

241 MWbiosSince 1969 eight biographies of Mary Wollstonecraft have been written, according to Wikipedia. William Godwin wrote a biography immediately after she died, intended to disprove the image of Mary as a virago. According to Charlotte Gordon he did her no favours, playing down her forthright political writings, and her determination to live according to her principles. What does this biography add to our understanding of Mary Wollstonecraft?

Mary’s life

Reading Romantic Outlaws I am reminded of what an extraordinary woman Mary Wollstonecraft was. How resourceful, intelligent, free-thinking and brave. She set sail to Lisbon to assist her best friend; to Paris to witness the revolution; later to Scandinavia on behalf of her lover. She took on injustice, especially against women, and when she found it, she took action if she was able to – for example by liberating her sister from an abusive marriage – or exposed it with her pen. She lived and wrote despite extreme social disapproval. It was not acceptable for women to write about philosophy or politics. And they were expected to hide away if they had illegitimate children. And they were not expected to make demands upon the men who wronged them.

Mary Wollstonecraft by John Opie

Mary Wollstonecraft by John Opie

Mary was born in London in 1759. Her father failed to support the family and was alcoholic and abused his wife. Mary supported her family, despite a strong desire for independence. She worked as a lady’s companion in Bath, ran a school in Newington Green for a while, then became a governess to the foremost family Ireland. Not successful or happy employments, but they helped form her ideas about girls’ and women’s education. She returned to London and began to earn a living from her writing. She was employed by the radical publisher John Johnson to write reviews for his periodicals, and she advanced to essays and then to books on the education of girls, A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, her reflections on the French Revolution, a travel book about her experiences in Scandinavia, as well as several novels.

She believed in living according to her principles, which brought her into conflict with genteel society, where women were not supposed to write anything but sentimental novels. Her pursuit of the painter Fuseli was disapproved of. She went to France during the Revolution, witnessing the Terror, and became disillusioned by its excesses. She met Imlay, father of her first daughter, Fanny, but he tired of her. Distraught at a second rebuttal she attempted suicide. On her recovery she set out with her baby for Sweden in an attempt to win Imlay back by tracking down some missing cargo. On her return he made it clear he was interested in someone else, an actress whose name is not recorded. Mary threw herself off Putney Bridge in a second, failed, attempt at suicide.

She met William Godwin, an established radical philosopher, and they fell in love, and on her becoming pregnant, married. Mary died in childbirth of puerperal fever, aged 38, still engaged in writing.

Her writing

Title page of A Vindication, 1792

Title page of A Vindication, 1792

Today we tend to see the Vindication as Mary’s most important published book. However, her book on the education of girls Thoughts on the Education of Daughters, with Reflections on Female Conduct (1788) was widely read. Her accounts of her experiences in France An Historical and Moral View of the Origin and Progress of the French Revolution (1794), and in Scandinavia Letters Written During a Short Residence in Sweden Norway, and Denmark (1796) were every bit as well known as the famous Vindication. Charlotte Gordon claims her travel writing was ahead of its time, and much appreciated, especially by Mary and Percy Shelley.

Perhaps we refer to it today because the Vindication is a manifesto, arguing for the acceptance of equality of women and improved education of girls. She was less concerned about how to achieve equality. She lived according to her principles, never financially dependent upon men, never accepting that men’s views had more authority than hers.

Mary’s influence

Since I first picked up A Vindication Mary Wollstonecraft has become much better known, seen as one the major influences on the development of feminism. She has even been called ‘the first suffragette’ to capitalise on the recent film. I don’t think she saw the vote as the way forward for women’s rights.

Newington Green, in north London, was something of a centre of radicalism and still held something of that history when I moved there in the early 1980s. It was an overgrown roundabout, a haunt for winos and rubbish thrown from buses. Islington spent some money on it and it became a nice green space, like a traditional village green, with a children’s playground, a café (intermittently), benches, places to throw Frisbees and to teach your child to ride a bike. Not long before I left a Banksy-like mural appeared on the wall of the former bank, and an appeal was launched for some kind of memorial to Mary Wollstonecraft.

44 M Wolst

The Biography

It’s hard, when you pick up non-fiction, not to just read to confirm what you already know. From Romantic Outlaws I learned how Godwin ruined her reputation after her death, while trying to demonstrate her vulnerability by revealing her sexual behaviour. Her intellectual gifts were subsumed in the subsequent damage to her reputation. Sound familiar? Ever been called aggressive, or shrill? ‘A hyena in petticoats’ was Walpole’s judgement.

I learned that her reputation was damaged and not rescued until Virginia Woolf paid her attention in the Second Common Reader (1923) and as the second wave of feminism got under way in the 70s, her contribution was reassessed and all those biographies written.

I hate the current fashion for rubberised covers of paperbacks. And I hate the Day-Glo pink on this one. It screams romance, girlie stuff. Mary Wollstonecraft’s life was neither romantic nor girlie.

 

Romantic Outlaws: the extraordinary lives of Mary Wollstonecraft and Marcy Shelley by Charlotte Gordon. Published in paperback in 2016 by Corsair. 652pp. This book won the biography section of the National (USA) Book Critics Circle Award for 2015.

Related Posts

A post considering Fallen Women, to coincide with the Foundling Museum exhibition was posted in the Autumn.

In May I will be blogging about Mary Shelley, Frankenstein and the Royal Ballet at Covent Garden.

 

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The Voyage Out by Virginia Woolf

Virginia Woolf’s first novel The Voyage Out was published in 1915. She was 33 years old and had already been writing professionally for 11 years, and married for three. The publication was delayed by episodes of mental illness. Some of the characters and situations came from her life, but this is not autobiography. The novel does, however, include themes and even characters to which she returned in later writing. And already she was deliberately breaking with the traditions of novel-writing.

240 Voyage Out

The story

Rachel is 24, and on her father’s boat from London to South America, via Portugal. Also on board are her aunt and uncle, Helen, and Ambrose. They are joined for a while by the Dalloways, Clarissa and Richard. Rachel is young, naïve, has been sheltered and rather badly educated. The Dalloways seem very sophisticated to Rachel and it is Mr Dalloway’s rather clumsy kiss that is the impetus to Helen’s offer to take her under her wing for their extended stay in the fictional English colony of Santa Marina.

Ambrose, Helen and Rachel install themselves in a villa and gradually meet many more English people, guests at the local hotel. These include the immensely clever and very ugly St John Hirst (Lytton Strachey) and his friend Terence Hewet. There are tea parties, a ball, a picnic, and an expedition up river. Rachel and Terrance fall in love and become engaged before Rachel catches a fever and dies.

The themes

The title suggests that Rachel will learn and mature, that it is her voyage. She is, in Helen’s words ‘an unlicked girl’ (19), and in Hewet’s, ‘young, inexperienced and inquisitive’ (p183). Her earlier, closeted life behind her, Rachel wants more for herself than many young women would aspire to:

…she wanted many more things than the love of one human being – the sea, the sky. She turned again and looked at the distant blue, which was so smooth and serene where the sky met the sea; she could not possibly want only one human being. (307)

Rachel’s development is influenced by books, social interactions, especially with people more educated than her, and the example of others such as her aunt. And she is shaped by experiences, such as Mr Dalloway’s kiss, and the Anglican service in the hotel.

The novel is concerned with more people than Rachel, although the story largely follows her. It looks at how other characters deal with the people around them, and the interactions between them; and how people respond to the big things in life, including falling in love and dying.

Readers are asked to consider what it means to be young, to grow up, to be a woman, to fall in love and be married. The novel is also concerned with the distances between people, how they see the same events differently. For example, the world of women is hidden from men, Terence explains.

‘But the lives of women of forty, of unmarried women, of working women, of women who keep shops and bring up children, of women like your aunts or Mrs Thornbury or Miss Allan – one knows nothing whatever about them. They wont tell you. Either they wont tell you or they’ve got a way of treating men. It’s the man’s view that is represented, you see.’ (215)

This novel has some similarities to Middlemarch by George Eliot. A strong, but rather innocent young woman wants to make the most of her life. Others are shown in contrast to Rachel (Dorothea) and their actions are understood within the complexity of their social circle, circumscribed by the imagined English colony of Santa Marina (or the town of Middlemarch).

240 Voyage Out 1st ed 1915

The writing

There are also some important differences from the traditional Victorian novel, even if there is a large cast, and the novel is quite lengthy. Most significant is that the perspective is constantly shifting from person to person. Virginia Woolf is pointing to the relativity of human perception, showing how we experience the world differently depending upon whom we are with, who is influencing us.

I remember when I first read this book I wondered when the action or focus of the book would take shape. But it never did. Now on rereading I can see that Virginia Woolf was mirroring life. So little of it is clear, so much is influenced by context – people and place. The use of free indirect style, as the extracts show, makes these shifts evident.

It took me a while to get into. Writers are told that their protagonist has to want something, even if it’s only a glass of water. (Who said that?) But it is not at all clear that Rachel is the protagonist. The novel opens with a scene in which Helen is sobbing because she is leaving her children for the extended stay in South America. Is Helen to be the main character? And what Rachel wants hardly becomes clear, indeed is not really awoken until Mr Dalloway’s kiss, on p73. But although hard to get into, soon it wouldn’t leave me.

The narrative moved slowly, but with many episodes, through the voyage, the sojourn in Santa Marina and then the conclusion of the English families’ holidays. Rachel’s death clouds their visit, especially for Terence, but other hotel guests move on, return home, refuse proposals, take up causes and so forth.

I loved her descriptive prose from the outset. An example is the storm, experienced in this way:

Their sensations were the sensations of potatoes in a sack on a galloping horse. (68)

Virginia Woolf had been on a voyage to Portugal in 1905. Without that trip she could hardly have described that moment when the ship moves off:

Now a tremor ran through the table, and a light outside swerved. At the same time an electric bell rang sharply again and again.

‘We’re off,’ said Ridley.

A slight but perceptible wave seemed to roll beneath the floor; then it sank; then another came, more perceptible. Lights slid right across the uncurtained window. The ship gave a loud melancholy moan.

‘We’re off!’ said Mr Pepper. Other ships, as sad as she, answered her outside on the river. The chuckling and hissing of water could be plainly heard and the ship heaved so that the steward bringing plates had to balance himself as he drew the curtain. There was a pause. (11-12)

Occasionally I felt that the events moved too slowly, that moving from person to person meant we were given more of their lives than we wanted. But overall I was very pleased to have reread The Voyage Out as part of #Woolfalong: see Heavenali’s blog.

Virginia and Leonard on their wedding day: 23 July 1912

Virginia and Leonard on their wedding day: 23 July 1912

 

In an earlier blogpost for the same series I explored To The Lighthouse.

The Voyage Out by Virginia Woolf was first published in 1915. I used the Penguin Modern Classic edition (1970) in this review. 380 pp

 

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Writing as therapy, despite Zadie Smith

… most writers groups moonlight as support groups for the kind of people who think that writing is therapeutic. Writing is the exact opposite of therapy. [Zadie Smith, from  interview on Random House site*].

Really!!? It’s a poor arguments that uses the phrase ‘the kind of people who …’. And that suggests underhandness by the choice of the word ‘moonlight’. I wonder if Zadie Smith has reconsidered this rather sneery comment. She is an excellent writer herself, of course, and one who knows about the craft and skill of writing as art. But she should know that for some people writing is therapeutic.

145 old handsLet us make a distinction between writing for publication (art) and writing as therapy and probably not for publication.

Therapeutic Writing

For people who are hurt, traumatised and perhaps depressed, writing is often part of their recovery. Therapeutic writing has a pioneer: James W Pennebaker. It has 30 years of established research and guide books, such as Gillie Bolton et al’s Writing Works. And it has many, many practitioners, who use writing as part of a therapeutic process, in groups and in individual support. We should not be surprised that writing is beneficial – both art and music therapy are well established.

In addition to individual therapeutic writing we can note that it has also been used to help people in groups.

For survivors of torture

At Freedom From Torture there is a writers’ group called Write to Life. The members are refugees and their mentors. The refugees have experienced violence and torture and writing is part of their healing process. FFT also has a bread-baking group, art therapy and a gardening group. Therapeutic activities are not limited to writing and talking. Some of the benefits come from the social aspects of the group’s activities.

239 The Land Hasani

For people with dementia

In Reading Writing and Dementia I described how people with dementia have benefited from writing therapies. You can listen to a podcast of an event held by English Pen at Free Word Centre in March 2014: Dementia and the Power of Words.

Gemma Seltzer’s article (in 69 Mslexia March/April/May 2016) describes co-writing with older people in a project funded through Age UK. In the project called ‘This is How I see You’, Gemma talked to many of the people in a day centre and returned with a poetry portrait of each of them. She comments that it raised issues about her right to write about someone else’s experience of dementia.

For prisoners

In prisons, reading and writing can make a huge difference to prisoners’ lives. Many prisoners have very limited literacy skills. There are many projects helping prisoners to learn to read and to read more. The Writers in Prison Network uses reading and writing workshops and mentors to achieve their aims. Their strap line is ‘helping you change for the better’. Here’s a link to a Day in the life of a writer in residence.

How does therapeutic writing work?

It is the process of writing that helps in the therapeutic process. Sometimes it the expression of feelings, too dangerous or painful to say out loud, but needing some articulation. Sometimes it is the act of choosing words, metaphors, analogies that opens up thinking and reactions in the writer. Metaphors and imagery are ways into understanding depression, for example. And the metaphors and images we use, unconsciously, to make sense of our lives, can be revealed and new ones tried out through writing.

Sometimes the act of choosing words, in writing clarifies a thought. A writer can then reflect and learn from their insights, rather than being locked in a maddening repetitive cycle of emotions. How do I know what I think until I write it down?

Creative Writing Class, Southtown USA by Leesa February 2009 via wikicommons.

Creative Writing Class, Southtown USA by Leesa February 2009 via wikicommons.

Sometimes the significance is in being heard – by a group, a therapist or a friend. And sometimes the responses of a group to a writer’s efforts has a therapeutic effect. Having a voice is to have agency and presence in the world.

Publishing therapeutic writing

The projects I’ve described are about the process of writing. This process does not necessarily produce art or even text for sharing. Sometimes writing that began with therapeutic intent emerges to have something to say to others and is worth publiccation.

Related

Not long ago, in January, I wrote a related post called Reading is good for you. Today’s post was conceived as a companion piece, but quickly turned into a post about therapeutic writing.

* I tried to check the source of Zadie Smith’s quotation, but although it is repeated many times on the internet I couldn’t find it.

Over to you

Where do you stand on this issue? Do you have experience of therapeutic writing?

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A little rant about … Spoiler Alerts

This post is about spoiler alerts, what they mean and why they are so common. I am asking whether we need them. Are we in danger of saying that the story and its surprises are the most important thing about reading a novel. Really?

The donkey dies in the end

I cheered when I read this by David Rain.

Think of the phrase ‘spoiler alert’, so common in discussions of films, television series and even, nowadays, novels. What kind of work is ‘spoiled’ – used up, made redundant – once its surface narrative is known? A classic story can be told again and again. Shakespeare is never read for the last time; nor is Jane Austen. In Platero and I, we ‘spoil’ nothing by saying that the donkey dies in the end.

He was recommending Juan Ramon Jimenez’s novel Platero and I in Slightly Foxed (No 46, Summer 2015).

Recently I saw a spoiler alert on a blogpost about Mrs Dalloway. If Virginia Woolf were alive today she’d be turning in her grave! Now I ask you, would your pleasure in Pride and Prejudice be reduced if you knew that Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy get it together? Or that Jane Eyre is able to say of Mr Rochester, ‘Reader, I married him,’ and you already knew? Or even that in Rebecca, Maxim … no I’ll leave that one.

Cartoon from Amy Lynch tweet 28.5.15

Cartoon from Amy Lynch tweet 28.5.15

The surface narrative is not the novel. Although the surface narrative may be the film, I’m not sure about that. But perhaps the reason why films of good novels are so popular may be connected to this primacy of the narrative. Here’s a link to the blogpost on novels that are ‘major motion pictures’.

A and B Readers and Writers?

Anthony Burgess divided writers into two kinds:

A writers are story tellers.

B writers are users of language.

For B writers prose is foremost and without it ‘you are reduced to what are merely secondary interests: story, plot, characterisation, psychological insight and form,’ according to Marin Amis in The Art of Fiction, 1998, Paris Review interview. Hmmm

Could we apply the same categories to readers?

A readers focus on the story.

B readers look at how writers express ideas.

If this division works I would say that A Readers dominate the blogosphere with their spoiler alerts.

But although I would say I am more of a B reader, the novel is nothing without those things: story, plot, characterisation etc. I’m sure there are exceptions, some experimental French novelist of the last century probably.

While novel reading is about the pleasure of the story, a great deal of that pleasure comes from how the writer writes. The writing presents and supports elements of the story. Literary fiction is about the art of the writer to tell us the story in a skilful way. For readers the manner or style of the telling is part of the experience.

And novels need tension to carry the reader to the end, but the tension doesn’t have to be about what on earth will happen? Whodunnits use the tension of clues and McGuffins to draw the reader on. Thriller readers want the hero to escape, with one enormous bound. That’s why it may be important not to reveal the plot twist in Rebecca, but reader she (not Rebecca, who was at the bottom …) got her man.

45 catch-22

Some novels aren’t written for suspense, for what happens. Reading can simply be watching the protagonist come to terms with the events. This is one of the strengths of Catch-22 by Joseph Heller, who in scene after scene, character after character convinces us of the many absurdities of war. Perhaps the writer is suggesting that nothing much gets resolved in the story: see The Green Road by Anne Enright for example, reviewed recently on this blog.

I know of one reader who always turned to the last page. She wanted to read the novel without the surprises that the story might bring, to know the outcomes so she could see how they got there.

To spoil or not?

225 S&S coverSometimes it seems important not to reveal the plot. For example, I did sidestep reviewing Sugar and Snails, by Anne Goodwin. The significant reveal is designed to get the reader to think about their assumptions. I love a novel that makes you think, but I didn’t feel I could review the novel without discussing what is revealed. Anne Goodwin’s own discussion of spoilers can be found on her blog, Do spoilers Spoil? We are all Completely Beside Ourselves. Anne quotes some research about spoilers (that weren’t) and readers of short stories. They preferred them spoiled!

I took a different line when I reviewed at We are all Completely Beside Ourselves by Karen Joy Fowler, where the central issue of the novel is disclosed on p77. Again, it challenges the reader: what were you assuming? And says, now you know THAT look at what it does to my story.

But on the whole I want fewer spoiler alerts.

BTW

Slightly Foxed is a quarterly and subscription details can be found on their website.

Over to You

We have energetic debates about spoiler alerts in one of my reading groups. Where do you stand?

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A Manual for Cleaning Women by Lucia Berlin

I became aware of a twitter stir about this book last autumn. The title struck me as original, but I had never heard of the author. Eventually I wrote it on my tbr list, and soon after that requested it from my local library. Here it is and I must give it back after only 3 weeks because another reader has reserved it.

237 Manual cover

What have we here?

43 short stories by an American writer who died in 2004. Lucia Berlin was known and admired by some, but with the publication of this collection it is expected she will have something of a renaissance.

Many of the stories appear to be based on her own life. The same characters and situations are revisited: her sister dying of cancer in Mexico City, receptionist job in a doctor’s surgery, Oakland, Boulder. The blurb and introduction by Stephen Emerson tell us something of her life: three husbands, four sons, alcoholism, conquering alcoholism, an itinerant life.

The stories show the writer’s ability to enter the lives of her characters, sometimes two in one story. And some read almost as if she had responded to people saying oh, you should write a story about that.

The stories

A collection with 43 stories has many themes: living at the very bottom of the heap, needing to find a few coins to get the next bottle, knowing exactly when each liquor stores opens in the morning, the consequences of ignorance and naivety in a cruel world, illness, exploitation, and above all addiction.

I lost count of the stories in which addiction, usually to alcohol but also to heroin, rob the characters of their humanity. They abandoned self-respect, they are exploited and betrayed, and they suffer.

Yet these are not stories of misery. She also observes many actions of extreme kindness and generosity: the tenderness and attention to the sister who is dying of cancer; people who stay after hours, persuade others to do a little more for the unfortunates, the friendships made.

502 is a story about the protection given by four older guys to Miss Lou. The men re alcoholics who spent their days in a broken down old car. Their joshing made it impossible for the local policeman to prosecute Miss Lou for a driving offence. Some bonds are forged in extremis. And the sting in the tale of the story is that Officer Wong was known to be a kind cop.

As the stories follow one another, however, the reader accumulates a picture of the precariousness of life, how easily people can be tripped up and betrayed and end up in desperate situations.

237 Lucia-Berlins

The writing

Lucia Berlin writes with little outward emotion, almost deadpan, but she makes circumstances clear. Silence is a story about her beloved Uncle John, an important person in her childhood in a dysfunctional family. But out in the truck with him one day she witnesses him hurting a dog and a boy in an accident. He does not stop and nothing is said. The reader wonders about all this until the end of the story, when the narrator, now an adult catches up with her elderly uncle. ‘Of course by this time I had realised all the reasons why he couldn’t stop the truck, because by this time I was an alcoholic.’ (332).

Writing about very painful things is hard to do well. Lucia Berlin does not overwrite, and the evenness of the distance she keeps us from her events and characters heightens the pain, the despair. Without commentary she observe the small details of life that tell of bigger things. She trusts her readers to approach the stories intelligently, lets us do some of the work.

The title story is a masterpiece: saying things while writing about others. It has humour, wit and acute observation. The narrator used to be much better off, but now must join those who use public transport, must earn their living cleaning up after profligate people. She sees the dirty side of life. Here are some extracts from A Manual for Cleaning Women.

This practice tells you all you need to know about the cleaning woman and her relationship with her employers:

The minute I get to work, I first check out where the watches are, the rings, the gold lame evening purses. Later when they come running in all puffy and red-faced I just coolly say, “Under your pillow, behind the avocado toilet.” All I really steal is sleeping pills, saving up for a rainy day. (27)

She describes how to get your employer to notice your work.

My masterpiece in this area was when I cleaned the top of Mrs Burke’s refrigerator. She sees everything, but if I hadn’t left the flashlight on she would have missed the fact that I scoured and re-oiled the waffle iron, mended the geisha girl, and washed the flashlight as well. (35)

And the misunderstandings, in this case in the home of a pair of psychiatrists:

Once I bought Natasha, four years old, a black sequined blouse. For dress-up. Ms Dr Blum got furious and hollered that it was sexist. For a minute I thought she was accusing me of trying to seduce Natasha. She threw the blouse in the garbage. I retrieved it later and wear it now, sometimes, for dress-up. (32)

And a typical acute observation:

Women’s voices always rise two octaves when they talk to cleaning women and cats. (31)

These extracts also illustrate two particular skills of Lucia Berlin: the use of lists and her deadpan humour. Try her!

A Manual for Cleaning Women by Lucia Berlin. Published in 2015 by Picador 399pp

Related

You can read one short story – Friends – on Vice website here.

Dwight Garner’s review in the New York Times from August 2015.

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40 Great Fiction Books by Women

236a BPFWF logo

My first 20 books are from the Baileys Short List for Women’s Fiction 2016

 

Kate Atkinson: A God in Ruins

Shirley Barrett: Rush Oh!

Cynthia Bond: Ruby

Geraldine Brooks: The Secret Chord

Becky Chambers: The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet

Jackie Copleton: A Dictionary of Mutual Understanding

Rachel Elliott: Whispers Through a Megaphone

Anne Enright: The Green Road

Petina Gappah: The Book of Memory

Vesna Goldsworthy: Gorsky

Clio Gray: The Anatomist’s Dream

Melissa Harrison: At Hawthorn Time

Attica Locke: Pleasantville

Lisa McInerney: The Glorious Heresies

Elizabeth McKenzie: The Portable Veblen

231 Gr Rd coverSara Nović: Girl at War

Julia Rochester: The House at the Edge of the World

Hannah Rothschild: The Improbability of Love

Elizabeth Strout: My Name is Lucy Barton

Hanya Yanagihara: A Little Life

The longlist of 20 books was announced on 8th March.

The shortlist will be revealed on 11th April.

The winner will be announced on 8th June.

 

The second short list is of the previous winners of the women’s fiction prize.

160 How to be both

Ali Smith: How to be Both (2015)

Eimear McBride: A Girl is a Half-formed Thing (2014)

A.M. Homes: May We Be Forgiven (2013)

Madeline Miller: The Song of Achilles (2012)

Téa Obreht: The Tiger’s Wife (2011)

Barbara Kingsolver: The Lacuna (2010)

Marilynne Robinson: Home (2009)

Rose Tremain: The Road Home (2008)

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie: Half of a Yellow Sun (2007)

Zadie Smith: On Beauty (2006)

Lionel Shriver: We Need to Talk About Kevin (2005)

Andrea Levy: Small Island (2004)

Valerie Martin: Property (2003)

Ann Patchett: Bel Canto (2002)

Kate Grenville: The Idea of Perfection (2001)

Linda Grant: When I Lived in Modern Times (2000)

Suzanne Berne: A Crime in the Neighbourhood (1999)

Carol Shields: Larry’s Party (1998)

Anne Michaels: Fugitive Pieces (1997)

Helen Dunmore: A Spell of Winter (1996)

 

Do you have any view on previous winners or this year’s longlist?

 

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One book, three authors

This post celebrates an important moment. Yesterday we sent the finished manuscript of our book to the publisher. It’s not the end of the process of course: we still have all the business of queries, proofs and other prepublication things to get through. And there will be some marketing activities. But the manuscript is as ready as we could get it. The New Age of Ageing: how society needs to change will be published in September by Policy Press. It was written by three people: Caroline Lodge, Eileen Carnell and Marianne Coleman. Most things are better together and writing a book is one of those.

The three of us

Writing a book is intense even before adding the dimension of three authors. Eileen and Caroline have written together for some time, books and articles for teachers, books and articles on retiring. We have familiarity with our ways of working and those things that really matter to us. The three of us are members of a Retiring Women’s Group. Marianne had been the reader for Retiring with Attitude, by Eileen and Caroline, and they wanted her skills and experiences to augment and complement theirs as they tackled the book on ageing. She has an established reputation from her research on women and leadership, for example Women at the Top.

236 WonTop coverWriting collaboratively intrigues people. ‘How do you actually do it?’ they ask. And indeed how do you align the different views of content, purpose, theme and style and how do you resolve conflicts? And then how does that translate into words?

Eileen and Caroline recorded a conversation about writing a previous book. Writing Together identified the four main ways we wrote together.

  • Side by side
  • Back and forth
  • Separate and coming together
  • Dolly mix of the above.

We did all these again, but less side-by-side, which was harder with three of us. Put another way: we talked, planned, wrote, reviewed, learned from each other through more talk and then planned and wrote again and talked and so on, and so on …

Meetings

Writing tog

You have to talk together if you are writing together. You have to talk a lot. You have to meet and discuss the issues, large and small, that are coming up in the writing. Early on we met to put together a proposal to a publisher, consider the interviews, and decide who would take the lead on what. A year in we looked at everything we had been doing and reshaped the book again.

Throughout we tried to align our three styles of writing and the content: some chapters have more edge, some have focussed more on information, some are more passionate, some more chatty. Latterly we talked to decide the order of the chapters, to take account of readers’ feedback.

I’ve lost count of the number of meetings we have had. We have had two residentials (a previous post described our final residential meeting in January) and many, many one day meetings. There is always lots of paper, and an agenda. We are organised and decide what to do before we break for lunch. We go on until we have finished. We have completed our work together more quickly as we went on. Always, the book is clearer in our heads after each meeting; always, our understandings of issues in ageing have moved forward through our talk.

Emails

In some ways writing together is like writing alone, but with emails: hundreds and hundreds of emails. Collaborative writing would be so much more difficult without electronic devices. We send drafts, feedback, queries, research papers, redrafts, more feedback, more queries and draw attention to likely books, TV and radio programmes. We move material from one writer to another, argue about who gets to include particular quotations, and who writes which bit. We discuss format (especially spacing), point out duplication and omissions, and cheer each other along. So far we have not sent any humorous clips of cats or photos of grandchildren. We said we send twenty in a week in the previous post, but Eileen suggested it might be as much as twenty a day at times.

The benefits

Marianne, Eileen and Caroline meeting at Kings Place in 2014

Marianne, Eileen and Caroline meeting at Kings Place in 2014

Two benefits stand out. Writing together improves our ideas and our writing. We share the stresses of writing to a deadline.

Dialogue leads to learning and better understanding of the material. It develops our understanding of our themes through discussion. It allows us to articulate our understandings in words to each other, then sharpen and refine them through talk. Feedback improves our writing as we learn from each other.

Our life experiences and different perspectives mean we have a rich combination of good stuff – our different sorts of families and lifestyles, ways of living, outlook on life, passions and prejudices, and our own very distinct experiences of others around us ageing and dying have meant that we can draw on those to illustrate particular issues about ageing.

In the two years we have been engaged on this book we have each had more or less productive periods. Some have been caused by holidays, writing other books, other activities and life events. We tend to divide up tasks: we all did interviewing; Caroline communicates with the publisher; Marianne and Eileen with our main readers. Having three of us means we can rely on the others to hold the process for a time and to be supportive. It also means the whole weight of the project and our commitment to the publisher does not fall on one person. Shared writing means sharing the burden of writing.

Yet again it affirms that writing is a social activity.

A celebratory haiku

Half my voice is you.

Some notes can only be reached

Singing together.

For Christmas 2012, Caroline commissioned this haiku from David Varela for Eileen. We were working on Retiring with Attitude, just the two of us at that time. Now we would have to amend it to ‘A third of my voice …’ which would unhaiku it. But the sentiment is the same.

Related posts

An earlier post focussed on our learning. Writing Together (part 2) – what have we learned? April 2013

In April we will write a post about the processes involved in taking a book from a good idea to its publication.

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Filed under Books, Learning, Publishing our book, Writing

Books in translation

Reading habits in the UK do not embrace diversity. Notoriously we rely on English being a dominant world language, so books in foreign languages are left to students of languages and those strange bilingual people. Only 4% of fiction published in the UK is in translation. Books by women in translation form a disproportionately small percentage of that 4%.

Gender is only one aspect of this general lack of diversity. Most published fiction is written by men and reviewed by men (see the VIDA statistics for the figures for several prestigious review publications here and in the States over some years). Novels by and about people of colour feature less frequently in our reading. Novels that deal with sexuality, transgender, disability, age and any combination of those are rare.

Fiction in Translation

Let’s praise those who are trying to bring more translated fiction to our attention. Peirene Press champions European literature, specifically novellas. I mention Peirene frequently on my blog because their books are beautiful objects as well as good reads, and subscribers are offered salons, supper club, newsletter and blog as well as three books every year. Their founder, Meike Ziervogel is also a published novelist: Magda, Kauthur.

Loving lists, I don’t hesitate to offer you the top 5 from Peirene’s List of 100 Translated Books Everyone Should Read, from their newsletter last year and chosen by readers.

235 b of chameleons cover

  1. Jose Eduardo Agualusa, The Book of Chameleons, translated by Daniel Hahn.
  2. Alain-Fournier, Le Grand Meaulnes, translated by Robin Buss.
  3. Isabel Allende, The House of Spirits, translated by Magda Bogin.
  4. Marcel Ayme, The Man who Walked through Walls, translated by Sophie Lewis.
  5. Honore de Balzac, Cousin Bette, translated by Sylvia Raphael.

I’ve only read the second and third on this list and 17 of the whole 100. I haven’t even heard of some of the titles. The list reminds me of how much foreign literature I am missing and don’t know about. Only 11% of my fiction reading was in translation last year. I need to do something.

235 HofSp cover

Women in Translation

Meytal Radzinski has done a great job reviewing the figures for women in translation. She put up two posts on her blog: Biblibio Life in Letters in January. She looked first at publishers and in part 2 at languages and countries. Whichever way you cut the statistics they tell the same story. Books in translation by women only represent about 30% at best. And the year on year picture does not appear to be improving. People always dispute figures about discrimination and if you want to do this you can look at the figures and her analysis yourself. She is transparent about the figures and how she interrogated them. In a third post she challenges the publishers to publish more women writers in 2016.

So novels in translation in the UK add up to about 4% of the total, and books in translation by women form at most 30% of that 4%. I think that means that novels in translation by women form about 1% of fiction. I notice that only one of Peirene’s top five is by a woman (but three of the translators). In the whole list I could only see 15 by women. Come on readers 15% is too low! The combination of foreign language and female author seems more than many publishers, booksellers and readers can deal with.

235 God dies coverWhat we can do

Read more translated fiction, and more translated fiction by women.

Support the initiative English PEN Writers in Translation.

Seek out more foreign fiction in bookshops and encourage them to stock more.

Look at the Man Booker International Prize for 2016. Here’s a list of possible inclusions suggested from the blog Tony’s Reading List.

Take out a subscription to Peirene Press and receive three translated novellas a year.

Bloggers, you can join in #WIT month (Women in Translation) in November, and post recommendations on your blog. Also available is the twitter hashtag #translationThurs.

You don’t have to wait for November to read and post more about books in translation, of course. Join me in April, when I am reviewing An Unnecessary Woman by Rabih Alameddie, the next in my older women in fiction series. And I’m extending my tbr list to include another from Peirene readers’ top five.

80 Summer Bk coverOver to you

Any more ways you promote fiction in translation? Any recommendations for readers here and now? What is the best book in translation by a woman that you have read so far in 2016?

 

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Filed under Books, Feminism, Older women in fiction, Reading