Quarantine Book Club | Edition V

Last month, I proclaimed that we were very definitely not in quarantine anymore. And that was true. But we probably should have been, and with the third highest case rate per capita in the country, we definitely should be now. My thoughts on the provincial government’s increasingly poor management of the pandemic are what they are, but, perhaps not surprisingly, no one is asking to hear them. While I wait for the powers that get their act together,  the best thing I can do for public safety is stay indoors with my books. And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.

Welcome, friends, to the fifth edition of the Quarantine Book Club. I’ve reconciled myself to the fact that we will be meeting in this space every month for the foreseeable future. (And yet, I’ll probably never come close to the end of my Must Read list.) Like most months, I haven’t loved all the books I’ve read this month – but what I don’t love, someone else might. That’s part of the fun of a book club. If you’ve read any of the six books below, I’d love to hear your thoughts about them in the Comments!

(And if you’re curious about what else I’ve read, you can look back on Quarantine Book Club | Edition I, Quarantine Book Club | Edition II and Quarantine Book Club | Edition III. You can also see my whole list on Good Reads.)

Kenilworth – Sir Walter Scott
This is another one of those books that I found on a shelf at my parents’, read and disliked, then asked for their opinion on – and learned neither of them had ever read it! (The same thing happened with Joseph Andrews.) Kenilworth is considered a classic. But the more classics I read, the more evident it is to me that white men have been in charge of, well, everything, including the literary establishment, with no oversight, for far too long. Kenilworth is a very old book, based on a true story. And it is no more interesting for it. Even the illustrations in the edition I read couldn’t breath more life into the dull and predictable tale. There was little at stake, with the conclusion more or less foregone from the start. I wouldn’t bother seeking this book out.

Sense and Sensibility – Jane Austen
Speaking of the literary establishment, I can’t help but wonder how many more authors like Jane Austen there might be if women had been allowed more of a voice in society before the twenties. The question is one no one can really answer, but it is an interesting one. Personally, I’d rather read twenty Jane Austen novels – there are only six – than one tome by Sir Walter Scott. I say that even though, after reading four of Ms. Austen’s six books in as many weeks, I am feeling tired of her formula of misdirected love, rejected proposal and eventual happily ever after.

Sense and Sensibility follows that formula. But Elinor Dashwood is a restrained, no nonsense heroine whose unwillingness to be silly in a society that encourages her to be nothing else I will always admire. I suspect, if you don’t know her yet, that you will love her, too.

The Mandela Plot – Kenneth Bonert
“Readers dislike it when an author refuses to tell them who is right.” Henry de Montherlant said that, and he was profoundly accurate. But interestingly, that was precisely what I liked about this novel, set in nineteen eighties South Africa, a time and place when everyone was wrong to some degree. The author illustrated that subtly but effectively. There is no hero in The Mandela Plot; the story doesn’t even really come to a conclusion. And that is what makes its story so masterfully told.

Westering Women – Sandra Dallas
Over the years, I’ve read a number of Sandra Dallas’ books. I enjoy them, invariably, because of the strong, often non-traditional female characters she writes into periods of history where they should not have thrived. They always do thrive, despite adversity. And they are lovably flawed all the while. The problem, I find, increasingly, is that Sandra Dallas never deviates from this formula.

I will never tire of reading about strong women. But the fact that so many literary heroines invented by the same author are strong women in the American Midwest whose husbands treat them badly and whose children drown in river crossings is becoming increasingly unbelievable with every passing novel. At this point, I can’t decide if I should describe Westering Women as a heavy beach read or a light literary novel. I doubt it matters; neither description is intended to be anymore flattering than it sounds.

Washington Black – Esi Edugyan
I wish I knew where to begin to describe this book. It is, at once, an epic, a fairytale and a coming of age story. It combines adventure, heartbreak, betrayal and triumph over seemingly insurmountable odds. In many ways, it defies conventional description, and needs to be read to be understood. I could hardly put it down, and highly recommend it.

Wildfire at Midnight – Mary Stewart
Recently, one of my more literary colleagues told me that Mary Stewart is her favourite author. Now that I’ve read one of Mary Stewart’s novels, everything I know about my colleague makes sense. Mary Stewart was a skilled writer telling stories for a particular person at a particular moment in time. That time is not now, and that person is not me. The subject matter of her novels is, at times, silly, and often lacking in depth. But that takes nothing away from the quality of her writing, which far exceeds her widely appealing but relatively mundane plot lines.