Tag Archives: John Self

Don’t Look at Me Like That by Diana Athill

Diana Athill is something of a heroine in my eyes. Here are six reasons why:

  1. Her contribution to post-war fiction in the UK was enormous in her role as founding director of Andre Deutsch publishing. She worked with him from 1952 until she retired aged 75 in 1993.
  2. During that time she edited (among others) the works of Molly Keane, VS Naipaul and Jean Rhys, and without Diana Athill’s patience and care we would probably never have been able to read Wide Sargasso Sea.
  3. She wrote about all this in Stet (2000), and it is an essential insight into editorial work. Also into her relationships with some of the writers she had to deal with.
  4. She wrote about ageing in an interesting way, and in life managed her final years with dignity and generosity. Read Somewhere Towards the End (2008)
  5. Her short stories are highly enjoyable. Midsummer Night in the Workhouse was published in 1962 and republished by Persephone Books in 2011.

And the sixth reason is this novel Don’t Look at Me Like That which was published in 1967 and has been reissued by Granta.

Don’t Look at Me Like That

The novel is set in the early ‘60s, and mostly in London. Meg is the main character and the narrator of this novel. She is a clergyman’s daughter and up until the point she comes to London Meg’s life has been directed by her parents and by social expectations, reinforced by school. There she had had few friends, and it was only Roxane, who lives in Oxford with her widowed mother, who is willing to be close to her. Roxane’s mother invites Meg to live in her house while she attends art college in Oxford. Mrs Weaver, is a complete contrast to Meg’s mother. She directs Roxane’s life to the extent of picking out and grooming her husband Dick.

The novel is partly about how Meg from childhood feels out of place, a misfit, unable to consider marriage, unable to make friends easily, unable to find her way in the world. But by the end of the novel she found her own friends, living independently and in some poverty in a succession of rented rooms. She has come to belong within her own circle. But she has also carried on an affair with Dick and therefore comes into conflict with her own family and with Mrs Weaver. Eventually she makes a decision knowing that it will shock her family and people’s ideas about young women.

So this novel notes the changing expectations for generations during this time, and especially for young women. It reflects the different pace of social change in rural areas and London at the time. And it is about making good relationships, and the difficulties of doing this whether you reject the traditional social patterns or accept them.

The character of Mrs Weaver is carefully observed and built up. She is a shocker. Much of Meg’s reflections seemed to me to expose the dilemmas and tensions that develop for any young women at any time; the importance, or not, of marriage and relationships with men and with women; clothes; independence; having children; fidelity and loyalty; managing on limited resources; parental influence and so on. 

Diana Athill

Diana Athill was born in 1917 and died aged nearly 102 in January 2019. Her death was the occasion for obituaries, and the republication of this novel for reviews. For example John Self in the Guardian in December 2019 called it a ‘reissued gem’. Here is the link.

And this is from an obituary by Lena Dunham, which cacptures the spirit in which to read this novel and the other works of Diana Athill.

Perhaps her greatest legacy was her refusal to cede to societal expectations as she carved out a persistently unusual world for herself in which the demands of femininity — marriage and children, specifically — were rethought and redefined. (Lena Dunham in the New York Times. January 2019)

Other reviews can be found by bloggers: for example JacquiWine’s Journal in February; and A Life in Books in January.

Don’t Look at Me Like That by Diana Athill, first published in 1967 and reissued by Granta in 2019. 187pp

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Filed under Books, Reading, Reviews, short stories

Being a Nice Book Blogger

Recently some corners of the book blogging world have been in turmoil. It seems that some authors have objected to the critical comments in on-line reviews. They especially minded if they provided the copy for review. Abusive comments were sent. Trolling occurred.

This is not the first time book bloggers have been in trouble. In 2012 the Man Booker Prize head judge Peter Stothard complained that book bloggers are harming literature. I think this argument has about as many legs as those who say that comics prevent children from developing good reading habits, texting damages spelling, Kindle will kill off ‘real’ books and so on. There is space for book bloggers alongside the more traditional literary criticism.

Do bloggers have to be nice?

I think two principles can collide in book reviewing on-line. The blogger should be respectful, not take opportunities to be negatively critical, offensive or rude. But there is also a human obligation to the truth, and let’s face it some books are disappointing, challenging to finish when the writer has not made you interested in the characters; when the book is distractingly littered with typos, spelling and grammar mistakes.

The blogger has no obligation to write an endorsement for an author who has provided a book. They do have an obligation to their readers to declare the source of the book if it was not from their own stock. Some editors appear to think that bloggers owe them something. Here’s a link to Spiritblog who wonders if an angry editor knew what book bloggers can and do do to promote books.

And despite a recent flurry remember that book bloggers are readers, or as the hashtag has it #Bloggersarerealpeople. Margaret Madden wrote a piece for the Irish Times in February 2017 about some nasty goings on in the book club world: Book Bloggers are Real People.

Do authors have to be nice?

Well, authors don’t have to be nice, but they should not be not nice, not troll bloggers who don’t want to review their books or judge their books unfavourably. The blogger and tweeter Terry Tyler posted on Rosie Amber’s blog some advice to writers: Bookblogger bashing: in the end you’re hurting yourself.

On Bookword

Bookshop at the British Museum 2016

As a reader of many, many books I have to select what to review on my blog. Some books I read don’t get reviewed because they don’t fit the profile of the blog: Mark Doty’s memoir Dog Years was a fascinating book that made me cry, about animals and death, but not in the genres that I have lead my readers to expect. Most of the books I review are fiction, but not all.

I don’t always agree to review books I am offered. This may be because they are only available on-line, or because they don’t interest me. Some books I read aren’t included on my blog because they are not special enough. There are too many great books out there to waste readers’ time on mediocrity. (Yes, I’m a book snob.)

I can’t see that anything productive would come from making negative comments, except if I am exposing stereotypes, as in the series on older women in fiction. If a book does not do justice to an older woman, drawing on the sweet, eccentric image I say so. There are only a couple of those.

And reading would be bland if everything I reviewed I said was lovely. And I try to add more detail than a simple recommendation: excellent characterization, nuanced examination of tricky subjects, imaginative plotline, and so on.

 

A place for Blog Reviews?

In answer to the criticisms by Peter Stothard that book bloggers are harming literature, John Self provided a spirited defence in an article called Why book bloggers are critical to literary criticism in September 2012.

I value the editorial processes that ensure standards in literary journals. But bloggers are readers too, and I like nothing more than to be told someone enjoyed reading a book I recommended. Furthermore, as women writers are so badly represented in literary reviews (both as reviewers and as novel writers), bloggers have an opportunity to shift the balance a bit, including many male bloggers.

So I argue that there is a place for professional reviews and for bloggers’ reviews and I will continue to select my reading choices from the reviewers I have come to trust on blogs and from literary publications.

Book-bloggers are readers.

Over to you! Any reactions to these comments?

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Filed under Books, Reviews