Antiquarian and Classic Book Reviews
Jabberwocky is a little monster of a calico tabby. A very active cat, she is Hargrave’s little snicker-snack. She’s the third youngest kitten and has a very silky coat.
Hargrave adopted Jabberwocky from a shelter as a kitten. She was playful, adorable, and had big green eyes. She also didn’t sleep. After several 4AM wake-ups, Jabbers had to be trained to go to bed at a certain time. Even as an adult, she still goes to bed every night.
A valued member of the thieves guild, Jabberwocky will steal anything not nailed down. Her sister’s kibbles? Stolen. Pen on the table? Knocked off. Chair you wanted to sit in? Taken.
Despite being very hyper and never sleeping, Jabbers is also rather lazy. She loves to run after a toy as much as she loves to stuff herself and fall asleep on someone’s lap. It’s a contradiction she’ll never resolve.
When I was initially planning this post, I was only going to review only The Things They Carried, but after reading In the Lake of the Woods, I think they go together thematically and both share a focus on war and the aftermath of it. And so I’ll discuss both here.
All three novels revolve around two brothers, Claus and Lucas. They are twins. Perfect reflections of one another. In The Notebook, they are abandoned at their grandmother’s during a brutal war (presumably World War II) in their country (presumably in Europe) and, using a notebook, they practice hardening themselves against outside threats and internal ones as well.
All Quiet on the Western Front is given from the perspective of the losing side, which is still rare when it comes to war literature, especially in translation and from this era.
Graves has the unique perspective of being in the middle and a bridge between the command that used soldiers as canon fodder and didn’t fight, and those that were the fodder and lost their lives so meaninglessly.
What really shines about this collection is the informative introductions to each and every one of the stories.
This book may have been published just last year, but the writer, Robert Wynne-Simmons, is actually the screenwriter for the 1971 British horror film of the same name. So this book is a novelization of a movie that is over fifty years old.
This novel is really an intersection of two goliaths of classic film and classic literature, and therefore I decided to both read it and to review it, despite it being a bit more recent.
Wharton explores eerie presences and does so with a flare that lingers in the air over your shoulder as you read. Her prose is elegant and languid, drawing the reader in with lush descriptions and then twisting each tale to a disturbing and artful ending.
This drama is a great example of the power of monologue. If you come from a place of studying prose literature, your urge is to cringe when you turn the page in the play and come across a big block of text. But, actually, a monologue is a blessing rather than a curse.
The action centres around a writer named Katurian who is living in a totalitarian state. He has been brought in for questioning (and torturing) by police who are investigating a series of child murders based on Katurian’s stories.
