Among the Mad by Jacqueline Winspear

It’s that time again! The sixth Maisie Dobbs book is entitled Among the Mad, and takes place within London (and surrounding environs, of course). Maisie is conscripted formally into the machine that is New Scotland Yard when she’s mentioned by name in a threatening letter aimed at the government. As is usual, this case involves the aftermath of WWI and its veterans, in the context of the depression in England. Also as usual, there is a personal embodiment in Maisie’s own life: Billy Beale’s wife is still struggling to process the death of their young daughter. The general issue is shell-shock, or what we would now call post-traumatic stress. Maisie is touched by the plight of veterans who are still suffering less obvious wounds, like psychological, mental, or emotional ones, and who are unable to find work or meaning in a changing world.

This was, for me, perhaps a lackluster episode in Maisie’s story. It had all the familiar elements: themes of social and economic injustice and the sobering reality of depressed post-war England; Maisie’s search for belonging in between social classes (although she’s more and more integrated into the middle class; more on that in a minute) and with few real friends; the immorality and futility of war, with foreshadowing of the next world war to come. Maisie does continue to grow. She displays a work of art in her home, a tapestry we can assume she made in the weaving class she was attending in the last book. At the end of the book, she buys a camera, which I interpret as both another artistic/creative outlet, and a connection to other humans. She displays photographs as a means of reminding herself of her relationships. She also starts seeing more of Priscilla, and seems to open up more; but I’m bothered by her acting as Psychologist & Investigator (and therapist) in their friendship. It may not be sufficiently different from her day job, if that makes sense. But these are all positive developments. And then there’s the big one, at the end of the book, when she declares (to herself at least) that she has regained her soul. The healing suggested by Simon’s death seems to have begun.

About Maisie’s social standing: did anyone notice that Catherine Jones accused Maisie of not knowing want, and Maisie didn’t correct her? And later, in considering the possibility that a foundling could have become a successful scientist, she concludes that such social/economic climbing would be impossible – “unless, of course, he was something of a chameleon. Like herself.” It sounds to me like Maisie’s made a pretty successful climb, but it’s left her as isolated as ever.

She does see some developments in her romantic life. It seems that Stratton continues to be interested, but frankly, I never saw him as a serious option. I know some of my fellow readers-along liked him as a candidate for love in Maisie’s life, but I felt he was a bit one-dimensional from the start, and a bit patronizing of Maisie as female detective. He’s come a long way in respecting her professionally, I’ll give him that. But still, aside from being a single parent, I don’t think we know anything interesting about him. I liked Dr. Dene, for his sense of humor and personal connection via Maurice; but that didn’t take. It was too early for Maisie. Our new friend MacFarlane, though, is more of a firecracker. He has more personality. I like him as an option for Maisie very much. I like his style, and I like that she fed him dinner in her apartment (!) and they shared really a very intimate evening. I hope to see more of him.

The mystery was engaging, too, and Winspear continues to twist her readers’ heartstrings with the criminal-as-victim and really very sad national situation that breeds situations like this one. It’s very poignant, powerful stuff. Still, I guess it’s beginning to be a bit patterned for my liking. I hope she’ll mix things up a bit in the next installment, The Mapping of Love and Death, which we shall discuss in another two weeks.

We saw less of Maurice in this book – really hardly saw him at all. There is discussion of he, and Maisie’s father Frankie, aging. She has precious few close friends, and I notice she’s not very forthcoming or honest with her father about her life. It really bothered me that she didn’t tell him about her injury at the start of the book. I know she likes to be a tough guy, and independent, but really. A single woman with a father who loves her should let him take care of her when she’s hurt at Christmas! At any rate, I’m glad she’s drawing closer to Priscilla, but hope she continues to expand her little circle, especially with the hinting at Maurice & Frankie’s mortality.

I still adore Billy, and find his family’s situation one of the stronger points of every book, actually. They feel very real to me, and perhaps because we follow them for the whole series (as opposed to the characters in each case, who come and go), they feel like Winspear’s best representation of the national malady. I think I am most anxious for them between books. The Beales, and Maisie’s love life, are my greatest concerns going into the next installment. I do like the mysteries, but I would like to see a little variety in the structure & subject of the next one.

Let’s discuss covers, briefly. For those of you also reading the series: the first image, above, is the standard hardcover design. It matches the rest of the series (at least the copies I’ve picked up), and I like the continuity; it’s recognizable. I like her cloche, too. 🙂 (remember, I got my own in Maisie’s honor!) But this time I accidentally picked a large print edition (that was weird; had to turn pages much faster), whose cover you also see above. Although it’s not visually recognizable as belonging to the series, I think it expresses the subject matter (at least of the mystery part of the book) better. I guess the usual series covers are more about Maisie; the large print cover is more about post-war madness. What do you think?

Despite some gentle criticisms, I still like Maisie and can’t wait to see her through! We have just two books left – the last having been released just last week. I’m so glad I’m involved with this series, and am so glad to have a group of people to share her with. Don’t forget to check in with Book Club Girl, where this book is being discussed. And we’ll meet again in two weeks for The Mapping of Love and Death.

the daily post’s prompt

Briefly, because I couldn’t resist….

This site offers a daily prompt for those bloggers who want to blog every day unfailingly but may lack for topics. I could not let today’s prompt pass me by as the answer is so obvious!

What non-exercise activity do you wish would keep you fit?

Duh! READING! So many hours spent on my back on the couch with a little dog on my belly… ah how flat that belly would be…

Main Street by Sinclair Lewis: a study of covers

I’m not finished reading this book yet – I’m still splitting my time between Dethroning the King and Main Street. They’re both delightful! And a bit long, but mostly I’m just very busy right now. (School is ramping up for the end of the semester, and my big race is in a week and a half…) So, thanks for your patience. Anyway – I haven’t finished Main Street, and I haven’t written much about it here; I’m waiting to finish and write up all my thoughts at once. (I have lots of thoughts.) But in the meantime, I went looking for different covers.

There have been many editions of this book, and many different covers. I’ve got a collection of them here for you. This won’t mean much to you if you haven’t read the book yet, but I wonder about your thoughts. Some of these cover designs seem to emphasis the titular Main Street, and I guess that’s a nice picture, and plays into the title. But I feel that the real Questions (capital Q) of the book deal with the People who color the street, if you will. The cover of the edition I’m reading is the very last one pictured here, and I actually think I like it the best. (It’s a charming little paperback that requests to be sold for 75 cents!) It concentrates on the people, leaving Main Street out altogether, and the fact that the two people (overlapping, and presumably “together”) are turned away from each other, and each seeming to hail someone else, seems especially appropriate to me. The book indicates that the inhabitants of Gopher Prairie, Minnesota are overly concerned with the opinions of others. It all fits, to me.

With no further ado, lots of Main Street covers for you! Do you have any thoughts? Any favorites? Or have you not read this book and I’m boring you completely? (My full write-up will come eventually. I promise.)









my Signet Classic edition

movie: The Lincoln Lawyer (2011)

I didn’t let being sick stop me! I made the Husband take me to a movie Friday night! So I saw the first Michael-Connelly-book-made-into-a-movie on opening night! This is especially momentous because the Husband does not Do Movies. This is the second movie we have seen together in a theatre. (He has a slightly higher tolerance at home on the couch. Like maybe 10 movies, ever.)

It was pretty great! I was excited, because it’s Connelly, and it’s a great story, and I thought McConaughey had some potential as Mickey Haller. (I hadn’t thought of Haller as being quite that pretty, myself, when I read the book, but I was open.) But I was also concerned, just as in reading The Paris Wife (which I loved! did you notice?), because I love Connelly and the movie is never as good as the book, and there was a high risk of disappointment.

cute Maggie McFierce

But I liked it! Yay! (The Husband did too. Remember he’s a part-time Connelly fan.) Of course, being a two-hour Hollywood movie, it cut significantly from the book. I was tolerant. It stayed with the feel of the plot; Haller was a baller, and his being pretty worked, and I thought Marisa Tomei was the CUTEST Maggie McFierce. It was enjoyable. Was it a Connelly novel? Heck no, but it followed his atmosphere, and I enjoyed it. And then I went to bed.

McConaughey with Connelly

I wonder if maybe he sold that book for a movie, first, to see how it would go, rather than any of the Bosch series. I figure once he releases Bosch to the big screen, he will have committed, and will have to let them keeping making Bosch, for better or worse. Which led to a question: who do we like to play Bosch? Anybody? The Husband had an idea, but I didn’t know the actor so it hasn’t stuck in my head. I have no ideas because I’m not very good at Hollywood. :-/ Please share! Who is Bosch? I see him as being stout and muscled, not terribly tall, with dark hair, and weathered by violence and stress, but still a touch ruggedly handsome while NOT being pretty. Who is this?

What is a Classic?

I’ve been struggling with this question lately. I think my concern began in contemplating the Classics Challenge which I have NOT been active on. But it’s an interesting question generally. I was thinking yesterday’s post might aid us. Is everything on this list-of-lists (-in-cloud-form) a classic? How many classics are there in this crazy world? Too many to list, right? Is everything by one classic author then a classic? (Nabokov wrote Lolita; is Pnin then also a classic?) How about timing? Do we have to muse over a title for a decade or several, or can we declare in its publication year that it is a classic? (Is there a waiting period, time for us to cool off and see if the fire still smolders?)

Courtney, who is hosting this challenge over at her blog, Stiletto Storytime, does define it for us:

What is a classic you ask? A classic to me is a book that has in some way become bigger than itself. It’s become part of culture, society or the bigger picture. It’s the book you know about even if you have not read it. It’s the book you feel like you should have read.

This sounds like a pretty forgiving definition to me – and thank goodness, since as stated, I haven’t made much progress on this challenge yet! But I yearn to hear your definition, too. What is a classic?

(And by the way, I’m hanging in there; I’m currently really enjoying Main Street by Sinclair Lewis. That’s a classic, right?)

Information is Beautiful Consensus Book Cloud

You can read the article, too (and definitely go there for a zoomed-in view), but look at this beautiful graphic, would you?

It’s a compilation of many different top 100 book lists, in cloud form, so we can see where they most agree. I think it’s rather gorgeous, and also instructive – not only in what is printed larger and smaller, but also in the fact that there’s such diversity in these lists. I’m going to be coming back to this one. (By the way, I had no idea The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy was so important! Did you?)

The Paris Wife by Paula McLain

Ahhh. This was really a joy and a pleasure to consume. I’m just sorry it’s over.

(Let me apologize in advance for a lengthy post today, but I have a lot to say about this book.)

Ernest Hemingway is my greatest literary obsession; I’ve certainly loved, and returned to, and reread, and studied other authors, but Hemingway has been the love of my reading life. Certainly, that was a large part of the appeal of this book: to come home to familiar and much-loved territory. We all know that feeling, I think: visiting an old neighborhood, hearing a song from one’s happy youth, telling old friends the same old stories of shared memories.

So, as I’ve said, part of the luxuriant pleasure of this book was all the intertwining threads of familiarity. I have recently been reading By-Line: Ernest Hemingway, a collection of his newspaper and magazines stories and dispatches, many from the Hadley era of his life. I’ve read 3 or 4 biographies, and piles of his novels and short stories, and nonfiction/memoirs like Death in the Afternoon (about the bullfights he saw) and A Moveable Feast (about his life in Paris with Hadley). And I just yesterday purchased The Garden of Eden, a novel published posthumously (and controversially edited by his surviving family), about a couple who becomes a triangle on the beaches of France and in Spain. I read it years ago but wanted to own my own copy. I remember really loving this book, although it’s surrounded by critical ambivalence and debate; this is where Hemingway most directly ventures into gender-changing, gender ambiguity, cross-dressing, bisexuality, threesomes… and all sorts of interesting and disturbing subjects linked by some biographers to Hemingway’s mother’s tendency to dress him up as a little girl when he was young. I find it all fascinating.

my Hemingway library at present


Hadley Richardson was Hemingway’s first wife; they married when he was just 22, and she was 29, and surprised at herself for landing such a vibrant, popular, ambitious young man. They took off for Paris quickly, and shared the early years of Hemingway’s career, including the publication of Three Stories and Ten Poems, In Our Time, and The Sun Also Rises, his first novel and the one that really launched his career. They also shared poverty and insecurity, a number of hardships, an unstable but scintillating circle of famous friends, and an unplanned pregnancy. Their story ends (I’m not giving anything away here, it’s history) when Hemingway begins an affair with Pauline Pfeiffer, who will be his second wife (who will be thrown over for the third, who will be thrown over for the fourth, who will hear the gunshot when he commits suicide just before his 62nd birthday).

So, as I’ve said, a large part of the joy of this book for me was sharing so intimately in the life of someone I feel I know well, and whose work I love. But there was a real danger there; for if it had been done badly or in poor taste (overly sentimental or maudlin, or vindictive towards Hem the womanizer) or inaccurately, imagine my upset! With this subject being so near to my heart, the standards were very high.

Paula McLain has my gratitude and admiration, because she’s done beautifully! This is a gorgeous novel. Her writing style (in Hadley’s voice, in first person) is a bit like Hemingway’s, although not quite so sparse. She paints pictures with short brush strokes. Hadley’s character is an interesting blend of strength and weakness (which is an observation she makes about Hem, too); she repeatedly bemoans her un-modern tendency to obey and bow to her difficult husband, compared with the women around her and their new-age relationship rules. She “lets him go” to Pauline without a fight, from the perspective of several mutual friends. But I think she maintains a certain dignity, and not just in her defeat at the deceitful Pauline’s hands. And at any rate, her voice is clear and authentic and emotionally revealing without being sappy. She seems to be honest with herself, and with the reader. In many ways this is a novel about a woman struggling to find and maintain her own identity in the unique setting of 1920’s expatriate Paris, and while being a loving wife and mother. In this sense it wouldn’t need to be about Hemingway; it’s a woman’s story, and it’s important without the celebrity. It reminded me a little of Kate Chopin’s The Awakening, or The Painted Veil by W. Somerset Maugham.

I loved how McLain (or Hadley) used some of Hemingway’s own rhetoric about truth and turned it back around on him. For example, on page 230, Hadley is dealing with her feelings about being completely left out of the book, The Sun Also Rises, when all the others present made it in as characters (none flattering):

I was incredibly proud of him and also felt hurt and shut out by the book. These feelings existed in a difficult tangle, but neither was truer than the other.

Hadley was a complex and mostly sympathetic character; I got frustrated with her here and there for not standing up for herself a bit more, but she was so authentic and real and human, I mostly was able to take her as she was. Hemingway was not so sympathetic, which is also very authentic and real. He was a cad towards the men and women in his life, pretty consistently. He was also very lovable, which is why so many men and women came back to him over and over for more fun and abuse. He was, as Hadley says on page 311,

such an enigma, really – fine and strong and weak and cruel. An incomparable friend and a son of a bitch. In the end, there wasn’t one thing about him that was truer than the rest. It was all true.

Again with the truth of the thing, which Hem himself loved to cite.

What a work of art this book was, and how evocative of emotions. It was exhausting and cathartic. Is my reaction colored by my love of all things Hemingway? Yes. But my standards were also raised almost impossibly high, so please take me seriously when I give McLain an A+, and thank you, ma’am.

medicinal use

I left work today just before lunchtime because I’m sick (poor me, ok moving on) and expect to be home at least tomorrow, hopefully no longer. I left Dethroning the King at work but brought home The Paris Wife because I have been SO excited about it.

But then, even sick, I couldn’t help stopping by the half price bookstore on the way home. I’ve been trying to get over there for days and even though I felt awful and needed to crawl in bed, I couldn’t help myself. I had a gift card to spend!!

Of course I wanted just one or two things 😛 and so hadn’t picked up a hand cart, but you know I had to go back and get one…

A large part of what inspired this trip was actually a need for some Anita Brookner, so I can play along with Thomas over at My Porch as he presents International Anita Brookner Day! I was not really familiar with her til he proposed this mini-challenge/celebration of Brookner’s birthday, but the terms were just far too easy to pass up: read at least one of her many books by her birthday this July? Sounds like a breeze! Why pass up a friendly encouragement to try a new author? (On this note, I want Thomas over at Stuck in a Book to know that his Barbara Comyns recommendation, Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead, is not two feet from this laptop as I type and I have ever intention of trying her soon, too. Perhaps I need a deadline a few months out like Thomas assigned! :))

But I didn’t stop there. I got all sorts of goodies:

That is:

the store’s entire stock of Sharon Kay Penman (Devil’s Brood, Here Be Dragons, and The Sunne in Splendour) – I love her so much and want to read everything she’s written!

True at First Light, The Garden of Eden, and The Torrents of Spring by Hemingway – I’ve read the first two of the three but want to own them; the third I know to be mid-early and critically understood to be “meh” but, you know, I want to be fully expert in ALL things Hemingway

Lady Chatterley’s Lover by D.H. Lawrence, because I’ve never read it and I need to get cracking on the Classics Challenge 🙂 and Moll Flanders by Defoe for the same reasons – I believe I saw some sort of television miniseries made from it many years ago, and enjoyed it, but haven’t read the book, which I have no doubt will be massively superior.

Hotel du Lac by Brookner, for the event mentioned above

Replay by Ken Grimwood was recommended just days ago by my librarian and sci-fi enthusiast friend Amy, so I picked that up when I saw it…

and finally, a book of Frida Kahlo postcards, because I owe some Postcrossings.

(yes, if you were wondering, I exceeded the amount I had on my gift card.)

All this, on top of my visit to the (bigger, public) library yesterday yielding the next two books in the Maisie Dobbs series for the read-along I’m participating in…

…I might make it through my sick day(s). 🙂

An Incomplete Revenge, by Jacqueline Winspear. and, tattoos

Another very enjoyable Maisie Dobbs book! I am definitely hooked on the series at this point. Immediately after finishing An Incomplete Revenge, I started reading Pardonable Lies – that is, the third book in the series that I skipped over. Good stuff.

In this episode, Maisie ends up following Billy Beale and his family on their “working vacation” out to Kent, to pick hops and enjoy the air away from “the Smoke” (which apparently is London – I’m learning some Britishisms from these books, for sure). James Compton, the son of her original patroness and supporter, has come looking for her help in his business dealings in the small town of Heronsdene. His concern is with the strange events there, including petty crime and a fairly regular occurrence of arson. Since the Beales were already to be in the area, Maisie can use her assistant as usual.

I really liked the way this book opened with another woman’s perspective on Maisie – the weaving instructor, Marta, observes her and makes some guesses about her life. I appreciated an outsider’s view of her, since I think we often get Maisie’s point of view, even in third person.

We quickly learn some new and, I think, important details about Maisie’s personal history and past that I found valuable in understanding her, as well as entertaining in their own right. I’m glad Winspear gave her this new dimension. As I’ve said throughout the series, if Maisie lacks anything, it’s dimensions; perhaps Winspear is wise to mete them out sparingly like this, though, since I’m so interested and on the edge of my seat. Give me more! MORE!

The story itself (avoiding spoilers here) I found heartwrenching. I was surprised at the degree of forgiveness shown in the end – although the offended party does not call it forgiveness (he says, “that is not for me to do”), he does forbear to take (ahem) Complete Revenge. It was a satisfyingly complex and twisting story, with Winspear’s characteristic overarching, large-scale, human-condition themes, and I found the exotic addition of the gypsies to be a point of interest, too.

A few things caught my eye in this book. I really enjoyed the beautiful, sensual description on pages 219-220 of the War Office Repository. The polished dark wood floors, hushed tones, and onionskin papers, along with the emotions of the people doing their research (as imagined by Maisie), and the helpful clerk, “reminded [Maisie] of a library.” (They did me, too.) I’m a librarian, and am always excited to get a mention. 🙂

Another connection in this book that I REALLY enjoyed was the hop-picking! I’m a big fan of beer – I used to sell it for a living, and I’ve made pretty significant plans over it (like flying overseas), and it’s pretty important in my family – both my parents, and the Husband, and I are all beer people. And the HOPS are my favorite part. I’ve never picked any, but I have munched on fresh-dried ones, and, yum. I even have a tattoo: …because our littlest dog is named Hops, so now I have a tattoo for each dog. Here is Ritchey:

…and the two real-life models.

At any rate. Thanks for bearing with me through the tattoo gallery 🙂 (there’s more where that came from, but I shall spare you). I’ll be commenting, as well, over at Book Club Girl‘s discussion post. Come on over! I’m so glad I’m participating in this read-along; it’s been great fun and I’ve discovered a new series I really enjoy.

Pardonable Lies by Jacqueline Winspear

Book 3 of the Maisie Dobbs mystery series by Jacqueline Winspear is called Pardonable Lies. From the author’s website (because I’m lazy, and because this is a fine one) I give you a synopsis:

In the third novel of this unique and masterly crime series, a deathbed plea from his wife leads Sir Cecil Lawton, KC, to seek the aid of Maisie Dobbs, psychologist and investigator. As Maisie soon learns, Agnes Lawton never accepted that her aviator son was killed in the Great War, a torment that led her not only to the edge of madness but also to the doors of those who practice the dark arts and commune with the spirit world. Determined to prove Ralph Lawton either dead or alive, Maisie is plunged into a case that tests her spiritual strength, as well as her regard for her mentor, Maurice Blanche. The mission will bring her to France and reunite her with her old friend Priscilla Evernden, who lost three brothers in the war, one of whom has an intriguing connection to the case.

Set against a finely drawn portrait of life between the World Wars, Pardonable Lies is “a thrilling mystery that will enthrall fans of Jacqueline Winspear’s heroine and likely win her new ones” (Detroit Free Press).

This episode involves the rift between Maisie and her mentor, Maurice. I’m not terribly impressed with Maisie’s decision-making in this book. I think it’s a time of growth and learning for her, though. Out of her rift with Maurice comes a greater independence in her own work (which is rather patronizingly and, I thought, unnecessarily explained to us by Winspear), which she did need. But she also showed a stubbornness in this book that endangers her own health and therefore those things she cares so much about: her business, her cases, Billy’s employment. She needs to confess that she’s human, and be willing to accept help when it’s both offered and needed. I was also frustrated with her treatment of Dr. Dene. I know she has precious little experience “walking out with” a man, and her one love affair ended tragically and she’s hurt. Still, I felt that she treated Dene rather cruelly. Surely someone as intuitive as Maisie could come up with more humane behavior towards a man who rather loves her, who she cares for (if less) in return. But I guess that’s the great irony: psychologists with screwy relationships, mechanics whose cars don’t run. Right?

But, I had a good time with Maisie, again; enjoyed the several cases she solved and the puzzles she unriddled. I thought the case of Avril was interesting, but I especially enjoyed the cases of the two missing soldiers. I think Winspear’s best subject matter may be the war and it’s painful aftermath; perhaps that’s why these were such powerful, moving stories. That, and I love Priscilla and enjoy getting to know her family.

Although I am very, very late, I am heading over to Book Club Girl‘s website to join the discussion about this book, so come on over there with me if you like. On Monday, March 14, I’ll be posting, and we’ll be discussing, An Incomplete Revenge. Next up (in order, and on time!) I’ll be reading-along book 6 of the Maisie series, Among the Mad. Stay tuned!