Sunday Salon: To Rate or Not To Rate?

The Sunday Salon.com

Today I’d like to talk about ratings. I know this is a topic that has been widely discussed. However, I’ve never talked about it on Erin Reads, so I figured, why not?

A few days ago I was talking with a friend about rating books on Goodreads. We were bemoaning the lack of half-stars in the three- to five-star range. I have a pretty good feel by now of what constitutes a whole-numbered star for me, but I miss the half-stars offered by LibraryThing for the occasional book that falls in between.

As you have most likely noticed, I don’t rate books according to any set system on Erin Reads. For me, ratings are a way to remember my own personal sense of a book. My experiences as a reader, a blogger, and a bookseller have shown me again and again that one (wo)man’s literary trash is another (wo)man’s treasure, so I don’t feel comfortable assigning an overall rating to books I talk about here. I’d rather visitors read my thoughts on a particular book to get the whole story, as it were, of my own experience with the book and infer based on that than glance at a rating and feel they’ve gotten a sense of the book. I don’t believe any book can be boiled down to a single rating — there’s always more to it than that. So, in the spirit of “better safe than sorry,” I’ve never set up a rating system here.

Rating Stars

I do, however, rate books on Goodreads. Perhaps this seems like a contradiction? My reasons for doing so are twofold. First, as mentioned above, I use Goodreads ratings to remember how I felt about a book overall. Because I know what makes a four-star book to me, for instance, so I can better recall my general feelings toward a book given such a rating. Second, I find it’s really helpful, when looking up new-to-me books on Goodreads, to see how others, with whom I’m Goodreads friends and with whose reading preferences I’m familiar, have reacted to a particular book. Since I use and love that feature of the website, I feel I should contribute.

Does this mean I am against rating systems on blogs? Of course not. Sometimes, I’ll see a blogger has rated something very highly, and I’ll feel compelled to read the review and find out why. The opposite is also true. Almost never do I glance at a rating and skip the review, so I’m really not sure why people will do so if I start using a rating system on Erin Reads!

Do you rate, on your blog or on your favorite book-tracking site? Why or why not? How do you use or react to others’ rating systems? I’m quite curious!

Reading Buddies Discussion: “The Woman in White” by Wilkie Collins

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Welcome, Woman in White-ers! I hope you’re enjoying Wilkie Collins’ classic as much as I am. I’m about to start chapter 8 of the first section in the second epoch (got all that??), which is just about halfway through. As always, spoilers are fair game here!

(Before I go any further — if you haven’t voted for the January book yet, take a moment to check out the poll in the sidebar and pick your preference!)

I won’t actually be talking much about the plot of The Woman in White today. I’m extremely curious about where the story is going, but at the same time I’m not usually one to make conjectures and try to puzzle things out — I’d rather just see how the story unfolds. Suffice to say I’m enjoying the confusion and tension Collins is so effectively building. I also find myself looking forward to seeing who will take up the tale next and have to keep myself from looking ahead, since I assume knowing who the future narrators are would give me an idea of where the story’s headed!

The first thing I wrote down about The Woman in White is “great characterization.” I wrote it after reading the following passage, from Hartright’s description of Mrs. Vesey at the start of chapter 8 in the first part of the first epoch:

“Nature has so much to do in this world, and is engaged in generating such a vast variety of co-existent productions, that she must surely be now and then too flurried and confused to distinguish between the different processes that she is carrying on at the same time. Starting from this point of view, it will always remain my private persuasion that Nature was absorbed in making cabbages when Mrs. Vesey was born, and that the good lady suffered the consequences of a vegetable preoccupation in the mind of the Mother of us all” (p. 43).

A few paragraphs later, Hartright describes his first interaction with Mrs. Vesey, which just adds to the portrait so effectively begun. As I read, I continue to feel Collins is quite adept at thrusting his characters into the story fully-formed and ready for action. It’s like each time I meet one, he describes him or her so compellingly that I question whether he has merely drawn on a stereotype with which I’m already familiar and that is why his characters come so vividly to life. But I don’t think that’s the case. Mr. Fairlie, for instance, might be the curmudgeon-y invalid relation (ugh, do I dislike him!), but to me, at least, he leaps off the page with quirks and personality at the same time that he draws on that rather common role. And he’s just a supporting character, really, at least at this point. All this is just to say that I think Collins does an excellent job with his characters!

The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins (cover)At the same time, though, I can’t really tell the difference between the narrators’ voices as they add their segments to the larger story. Obviously, there are plenty of context clues to help keep the narrators straight, and I’ve never felt I didn’t know who was talking at any given point. My mention of it here is less a complaint and more an observation. It’s interesting to me that an author so adept at creating characters doesn’t do much (at least, in my opinion) to differentiate their voices.

My questions for all of you so far have to do with the two main women. First, what do you think of Marian’s occasional put-downs of women? I forgot to note down any examples, but several times she has mentioned being inadequate in certain respects or predisposed toward particular (re)actions due to the fact that she is a woman. These feelings seem discordant with her strong and independent personality, and I can’t help pondering whether it’s Collins’ voice breaking through a bit.

My other question is with regard to Laura. Do you feel she’s a weak character? She seems unable to act in many situations, and I can’t decide if she’s just weak or if she has been sheltered for too long and lacks confidence or knowledge about how to proceed. She does show moments of strength, I think, or at least attempts to show them, and she doesn’t annoy me the way helpless females often do, but I haven’t quite worked her out yet. I’d be curious to hear your thoughts.

How are you liking The Woman in White? Do you have any (least) favorite characters? Hunches about where the story is heading? Also, if you’ve posted about The Woman in White on your own blog (as I know at least a couple of you have), please leave a link in the comments so others can find your post!

Thoughts on “Packing for Mars” by Mary Roach

Jill kindly sent me her copy of Packing for Mars by Mary Roach some time ago (thanks, Jill!), and I put off reading it for far too long. I recently picked it up and was quite glad I finally did so.

About the Book:

Packing for Mars by Mary Roach (cover)Have you ever wondered about the finer points of space travel? What happens to a human being who spends a few weeks without gravity, for instance, or maybe what sorts of psychological tests astronauts may go through before being sent into the void? Packing for Mars will answer these questions — and many, many more — in ways that are accessible, fascinating, and downright hilarious.

My Thoughts:

Packing for Mars was my first experience with Mary Roach, and let me tell you, she is one funny lady. The snorting and snickering on my part was nearly continuous, liberally interspersed with “Huh!” moments in which Roach answered random questions I hadn’t even known I’d had. If she treats all her books’ topics the way she treats space in Packing for Mars, I can see why she is such a favorite.

Roach has a way of poking her nose into topics that never would have crossed my mind, with no qualms about being persistent as required. I would not like to be a company official charged with satisfying this particular writer’s curiosity while adhering to any sort of privacy or secrecy policy! The book is arranged into 16 chapters, each of which tackles its own little space-related slice of life. There is a chapter on the effects of isolation and confinement on the psyche, another two on vomiting and using the bathroom in zero gravity, and sections on mission simulation, the logistics of sex in space, and the animals that have assisted in space research and testing. There is another on personal hygiene in a space suit. And of course, there is talk of space food.

Did you ever really ponder how much planning went into the flag the American astronauts planted on the moon’s surface so many years ago? It’s just a flag, right? Wrong. Not only did it add weight to the shuttle and require a special case on the craft’s exterior that would withstand launch and be easy for the astronauts to open with space-suited hands, it had to look like it was waving in a crisp breeze instead of just floating there limply, which is what it would actually do on the moon. The book is full of tidbits like this.

Roach also has a knack for making useful comparisons. Having trouble imagining an astronaut’s in-suit drink bag, for instance? Roach helpfully compares it to the more familiar CamelBak. This example is only one of many that help make Packing for Mars both accessible and informative.

For anyone with strong feelings — positive or negative — regarding footnotes, I should point out that Packing for Mars is rife with them. I tend to be indifferent to footnotes, but in this case I found they contained much interesting, tangential information, and they did not bother me at all.

Overall? A fun read that will answer all your questions and more, make you laugh at least a few times, and most likely teach you something in the process. If you, like me, are only an occasional nonfiction reader, Packing for Mars is a good one for you.

Those are my thoughts. Check out Packing for Mars by Mary Roach on Goodreads or LibraryThing, or read a plethora of other bloggers’ reviews!

CRP: Thoughts on “The Trembling of a Leaf” by W. Somerset Maugham

The Classics Reclamation Project is my personal challenge to read and enjoy the classics.

The Classics Reclamation Project

The Trembling of a Leaf by W. Somerset Maugham is a collection of short stories set in the South Pacific. It was my book group’s selection for October.

This is the first collection of short stories I’ve read that counted toward my classics project. I’m not usually a short story reader in general, so I was pleasantly surprised by this set. Maugham has a talent for creating vivid characters, rich settings, and compelling plots in just a few pages.

The collection begins and ends with pieces so short I hesitate to call them stories at all. The middle six pieces are the meat of the collection, and I enjoyed them very much. Though they are independent stories, because they share a common setting, I often felt they were interconnected, that I was reading about several groups of people who may have coexisted in this tiny island world.

All deal with similar themes: the relationship between the islands’ native population and the foreigners (mostly British and American) who visit and live there. Most of the stories deal primarily with the foreigners, the natives playing supporting roles as wives, bystanders, store owners, petitioners, and so on. The stories also tend to feature two foreigners of different minds on a subject: the place of Christianity and missionaries on the islands, the proper way of relating to the indigenous population, the merits of the British vs. native way of life. In most of the stories there was at least one someone who was dreadfully unhappy, often because of cultural misunderstandings or incompatibilities. I found the tensions fascinating and well portrayed.

Several of the stories also include a tale within a tale. Often a story’s main character spends most of the story relating something he heard about or that happened to him earlier. This structure gives the stories a depth I often find lacking in the form in general and allows Maugham to explore both tales as well as the narrator or main character’s feelings toward or the consequences of the innermost story.

I cringed now and then at the treatment and view of both women and native islanders in these stories. White women mostly demur to their husbands, who are stronger and more clever. Native men were treated as far inferior to white men, and half-castes were treated no better. Native women had it the worst, I felt — they were almost universally stunningly beautiful yet rather simple, and very much at the mercy of men. (And yes, I do realize that these relations were less Maugham’s creation than the way the races and sexes actually did relate to one another!)

I was curious to learn about how Maugham ended up in this particular area of the world and so turned to Wikipedia. Here’s a snippet of his biography from there:

“In 1916, Maugham travelled to the Pacific to research his novel The Moon and Sixpence, based on the life of Paul Gauguin. This was the first of those journeys through the late-Imperial world of the 1920s and 1930s which were to establish Maugham forever in the popular imagination as the chronicler of the last days of colonialism in India, Southeast Asia, China and the Pacific, although the books on which this reputation rests represent only a fraction of his output. On this and all subsequent journeys he was accompanied by Haxton [the young American lover and companion Maugham met in Paris], whom he regarded as indispensable to his success as a writer. Maugham himself was painfully shy, and Haxton the extrovert gathered human material that Maugham steadily turned into fiction.”

There’s so much in just that one paragraph that intrigues me! Maugham’s other travel experiences and subsequent writings, his personality, his (apparently complicated) love life. Perhaps a biography of Maugham will be in my reading future.

I’m curious to read more by Maugham now, as I enjoyed these stories quite a bit. If you’ve read anything by him, where would you suggest I turn next? I have The Painted Veil on my shelf, but I’ve heard The Razor’s Edge is loosely based on my favorite story in The Trembling of a Leaf. Any thoughts?

Thoughts on “The Tapestry of Love” by Rosy Thornton

Miz B. was kind enough to send me her copy of The Tapestry of Love by Rosy Thornton, and though I have been remiss in getting it read, I finally began it during the recent Readathon.

About the Book:

The Tapestry of Love by Rosy Thornton (cover)Catherine Parkstone is starting fresh when she moves from England to rural France, leaving behind her sister, mother, two grown children, and ex-husband and embarking on her own dream of making a living as a seamstress and tapestry maker. As she begins to settle into her new, rather isolated life, she encounters the sorts of unexpected quirks that often accompany wholly unfamiliar living situations and begins to build a little community of friends and neighbors. As life flows on, so does Catherine’s story.

My Thoughts:

The best word I can think of to describe The Tapestry of Love is “nice.” If you are seeking a quiet novel full of rural charm and lovely people, look no further. It has all the idyllic foreignness and that woman-on-her-own feel of Frances Mayes’ well-known Under the Tuscan Sun. It makes no unreasonable demands on the reader but tells a simple, easy story fully within the realm of the imaginable.

I liked Catherine very much. She was logical, but not at all to a fault; independent, but not annoyingly so. She was just the sort of character through whom to experience life in a place like the CĂ©vennes mountains. Her family and neighbors took on lives and personalities of their own, so that by the novel’s end, Catherine existed within a good-sized matrix of very real and endearing supporting characters.

Thornton’s writing is lovely, well-suited to the sort of book she has written. She has a knack for describing a place so that you can see it in your mind’s eye without feeling like you have just slogged through descriptive excess. I liked how she spent so much time on the small things in daily life, allowing the few bigger events to occur in their own space rather than layering them for dramatic effect. Catherine’s progression throughout the novel felt real because of it.

SPOILER ALERT!

I did have one issue. My problem was that I didn’t like Patrick. I wasn’t against him at the beginning and was interested to see what twist Thornton would put on the potential love story, but as soon as Bryony came along, I ceased to trust him. I don’t care what his reasons were for lying to the sisters, and I don’t care what Bryony asked him for. Really, Patrick? Seducing sister #2 while she is grief-stricken and still miffed at you because of the whole sister #1 thing? Had I been Catherine, I would have said, “Eff you, buddy,” and pushed him into the stream. I was disappointed that she weakened in the end. I wish the whole business with Bryony and Patrick and his mysterious past had just been left out. It felt unnecessary and artificial and gave a sourish flavor to the parts of the novel that featured it. I’d have preferred a straight-up, predictable love story to the mess that was the Patrick subplot.

Overall, I enjoyed The Tapestry of Love by Rosy Thornton. If you are in the mood for such a book, I think it would do very nicely.

Those are my thoughts. Check out The Tapestry of Love by Rosy Thornton on Goodreads or LibraryThing, or read a plethora of other bloggers’ reviews!