I have talked previously about being able to have two books on the go, and every now and then I’ll have three, which includes an ebook. With the Coronavirus causing concentration issues, I found taking on extra books to be helpful. And whilst I’ve gained more focus, I’ve still those books on the go, and I’m adding more. Although it’s not particularly sensible in terms of getting anything finished, starting a new book when I fancy has helped keep my spirits up.

I currently have… (seven)… books on the go. It’s a variety, which has been key, and I do have a small raison d’etre for each of them beyond the ‘want’.

Lillian Li: Number One Chinese Restaurant. I’ve been trying to get into this one for a while, so it is the book on this list I’m likely to finish last. I’m hoping the familial connections are better explained as the book moves on, because keeping track of who is family as opposed to friend or business associate is difficult, however I recognise that that confusion may be part of Li’s point, with the restaurant’s future and effective spin-offs centre stage.

Oliver Goldsmith: The Vicar Of Wakefield. A book that was wildly popular in its day (1766), this one is pretty funny, though at the moment the humour is all in the travel; a previously well-off family have to move elsewhere when they lose their money. The language is easy, it’s simply that I made the mistake of starting it when the news turned grim and so I haven’t followed the narrative as closely as I normally do – I may well restart it.

Caroline Lea: The Glass Woman. Lea’s book is incredibly different to her first; whereas When The Sky Fell Apart, was a devastating story of fictional residents of Jersey during the Nazi occupation, The Glass Woman is set in Iceland in the 1600s. The use of history is good; it’s very much character-driven and has few of them so it’s easy to keep a hold of even whilst there is lots of story detail. The social details are abundant. There’s a long-term woman in the attic atmosphere to the book; I’ve since gone past that part and as you’d expect, there’s a difference, but regardless the atmosphere of the Brontë novel remains and it’s incredibly interesting; 1600s Iceland is pretty different to 1800s Yorkshire but there are interesting similarities between her story of an isolated married woman (which, considering her first book, could well be based on facts) and the governess on a deserted moor.

Michael Wolff: Fire And Fury. In any other time the following would make no sense: I’m reading this for the escape. Given the presidential events of the past week, I should add that I started the book a couple of weeks ago; after finishing Dan Richards’ Outpost, and having thoughts of non-fiction at this time due to my spring-summer non-fiction reading last year, I picked it up. It’s to be a purposely slower read.

Shannon Stacey: Yours To Keep. My reasoning for this one is the good weather. It’s an enjoyable contemporary romance set in Maine and steeped in family that I first read some years ago. It’s my read for when the sun is out. I’m speeding through.

James Rebanks: The Shepherd’s Life. Bedtime reading was going well until I forgot to choose another book to follow my previous; I remembered. I’ve had Rebanks’ book sitting on my desk for a couple of years; it’s actually my Dad’s copy that I bought for him, he read it, then lent it to me. Dad said I’d like Rebanks’ book. Reviews and the general raving a few years ago said I’d like the book. I like the book. I’ve only just started but the introduction is great in itself, detailing a day at school when Rebanks was a child; a teacher waxed lyrical about the Lake District in romantic, tourist-like terms, which the pupils – born and raised there – cannot yet relate to.

Diana Evans: Ordinary People. Another ‘sun’ read. It’s different enough to all the others, and it’s very good – a promising beginning and a lovely, somewhat relaxed, literary style. I’d been interested in Evans’ work since last year’s Rathbones Folio Prize; I’m happy to have gone for it.

As I’m speeding through the Stacey re-read and am mostly through the Lea (68% – ebook) I should at least have some content for a round up at the end of this month. I highly recommend breaking at this time previously-imposed reading rules.

Are you reading differently at the moment?

‘Doss’ – verb, Brit:
    1) Sleep in rough or makeshift conditions
    2) Spend time in a lazy or aimless way

— Waite, Maurice (ed) Paperback Oxford English Dictionary, 7th ed, Collins, Glasgow.

The nickname the Stirling family give to heroine Valancy of The Blue Castle has always bothered me, as well it might. To me it has always sounded a bit too close to ‘diss’, a slang term used in recent years (though since overtaken by even newer terms) to dismiss another person’s opinion or self, to disrespect. ‘Dis’ fits a far amount with ‘doss’.

But as we’ve seen, ‘doss’ is itself a word and in the case of the story, that second dictionary meaning matches the usage of the nickname perfectly. I’ve always thought that the lack of any similarity to the name ‘Valancy’ was crucial in Montgomery’s employment of it and the idea of Valancy being lazy and aimless in her family’s opinion fits like a glove.

You wouldn’t buy good gloves for a Doss.

If we consider that dictionary definition to fit, then everything the family believes, as well as what they force Valancy to fit into, is contained within that nickname; as much as Montgomery shows through dialogue and action how awfully the family regard and treat Valancy, you could almost remove the scenes in their entirety in favour of just the one simple word. It says it all.

(‘Doss’ is also one letter away from ‘toss’ which Brits have expanded to ‘tosser’ – the politest definition may be one found online: ‘an obnoxious jerk’.)

Is there irony in the way ‘doss’ is used, that it’s so obvious (at least in a British dictionary)? If we consider the definition, then the family might have simply called her ‘Lazy’, which, whilst becoming old quickly, would make swifter work of the meaning. In calling her ‘Doss’ there is a lighter feel to the whole idea; it’s easier to call it a cute nickname – who would object to such a sweet name?

Valancy definitely would not have said, whilst working on that rosebush that never blooms, that a rose by any other name would smell so sweet.

Unsurprisingly, Valancy objects to the nickname. This comes before her wrongful medical diagnosis:

But on this particular morning Valancy’s unbearable grievance was that she was called Doss. She had endured it for twenty-nine years, and all at once she felt she could not endure it any longer. Her full name was Valancy Jane. Valancy Jane was rather terrible, but she liked Valancy, with its odd, out-land tang. It was always a wonder to Valancy that the Stirlings had allowed her to be so christened. She had been told that her maternal grandfather, old Amos Wansbarra, had chosen the name for her. Her father had tacked on the Jane by way of civilising it, and the whole connection got out of the difficulty by nicknaming her Doss. She never got Valancy from any one but outsiders.

    “Mother,” she said timidly, “would you mind calling me Valancy after this? Doss seems so–so–I don’t like it.”
    Mrs. Frederick looked at her daughter in astonishment. She wore glasses with enormously strong lenses that gave her eyes a peculiarly disagreeable appearance.
    “What is the matter with Doss?”
    “It seems so childish,” faltered Valancy.
    “Oh!” Mrs. Frederick had been a Wansbarra and the Wansbarra smile was not an asset. “I see. Well, it should suit you then. You are childish enough in all conscience, my dear child.”
    “I am twenty-nine,” said the dear child desperately.
    “I wouldn’t proclaim it from the house-tops if I were you, dear,” said Mrs. Frederick. “Twenty-nine! I had been married nine years when I was twenty-nine.” (Chapter 3)

The family never do change tack; whilst they start using the nickname in slightly more positive terms more often, it remains a way of communicating Valancy’s lesser status. She’s still a silly child.

And as Valancy grows as a person, the continuing use of the nickname by her family shows the difference between her – a changing person – and them – set in their ways. The continued usage highlights differences in perception and the growing irrelevance – if it ever was relevant – of the family’s opinion of the heroine.

It’s interesting – literarily good – that the impact of ‘Doss’ has to do with our view of the family rather than Valancy. The word is a whole description for a perception that has had its day and its continual use shows the impossibility for fair change. The family come to see Valancy differently – at least some of them do – but it takes her marrying Barney for that to happen, an event that backs up Mrs Frederick’s above refrain in regards to Valancy’s ‘old maid’ status. And then there is all that wealth to be considered…

March has been a month, hasn’t it! We’re just into our second week of lockdown here and my house has been in self-isolation for almost three. I like being indoors during winter as I’m not a cold weather person at all, but I do miss being able to go out and about as spring arrives. We had one day without the internet working and that was difficult; being able to be online really helps. The initial poor response by our government led, the day after they essentially announced they weren’t going to do anything, to a massive number of people deciding they would stay home, so the lockdown, when it came, was more relief than anything. And now here we are.

I haven’t read all that much; I’ve been reading for podcasts but I’ve still some to finish – anyone else finding it difficult to concentrate? My guess is it’ll be easier as lockdown becomes more and more normal. Given the number of good things that have happened during this awful time – wages paid by the government; lots of kindness; a more socialist idea of society; the environment! – I do wonder if it would be difficult, especially the more this whole thing continues, to go back to normal life without that ‘old’ normal being changed somehow.

All books are works of fiction.

The Books

Caroline Lea: When The Sky Fell Apart – A group of residents live through the Nazi occupation of Jersey. A great, if harrowing, book.

Laura Pearson: I Wanted You To Know – A young mother is diagnosed with cancer and as she struggles through the changes to her world and future she writes letters to her daughter for the girl to read after she is gone, making preparations and healing relationships beforehand. An incredibly emotional read; difficult but important.

Weike Wang: Chemistry – The unnamed narrator has been proposed to by her boyfriend twice and can’t find it within herself to say yes; there’s a lot of confusion – she’s struggling with her PhD and is unconsciously still suffering from the neglect of her parents. A search for identity where the reader is more privy than the character, this is an excellent book full of vignettes, humour, and boasts an interesting writing style.

I haven’t a favourite this month; I appreciated all of them. I’m currently reading Dan Richards’ Outpost, where the author travels the globe to explore isolated stopovers for those walking in the wilderness (accidentally perfect timing), Oliver Goldsmith’s The Vicar Of Wakefield which is very funny, and Caroline Lea’s second novel The Glass Woman which is set in 1600s Iceland and currently seems to have a woman in the attic thing going on – very intriguing.

What are you reading, how are you, and how are you keeping busy where you are?

On 4th March my blog turned 10; it’s a milestone I’m still surprised by. I’m hoping to celebrate offline at some point, but for now here are the stats:

Posts: 1302
Reviews: 497
Most viewed post: The Ending of Kate Chopin’s The Awakening
Most viewed review: Joanna Cannon – The Trouble With Goats And Sheep
Books read, including re-reads: 602

I started this blog because I was starting to really enjoying posting reviews to my short-term ‘everything goes’ blog and because I’d started to read book blogs and thought defining my subject would be a good idea. It indeed turned out to be the case. I love blogging; I know I’ve fallen behind sometimes but my passion for writing about books continues and I am also very happy with how the podcast is doing. I had thought to start a podcast before I began hosting live events and I’m glad I got my you-know-what into gear and got it started. Books are awesome, the blogging community is awesome, and you readers are awesome.

Thank you all for being with me on this journey. Stay safe, and stay at home.

Today’s podcast is with Laura Pearson! Email and RSS subscribers: you’ll need to open this post in your browser to see the media player below.

Charlie and Laura Pearson (Missing Pieces; Nobody’s Wife; I Wanted You To Know) discuss the process of grieving for various members of a family, writing a book about cancer when you are working through the same, and changing stories almost entirely from their beginnings.

To see all the details including links to other apps, I’ve made a blog page here. You can also subscribe to the podcast via RSS.

Reading in February was mostly in view of podcasts. I have a couple of carry-overs too. The fourth of March marked 10 years of this blog being online. I will celebrate it at a later date with stats and so on.

All books are works of fiction.

The Books

Fran Cooper: The Two Houses – A couple buy a holiday home that is in fact two houses, one house with the middle missing, and when they go to put them back together they start to unravel the mysteries therein. Fab.

Fran Cooper: These Dividing Walls – The various lives of those in an apartment building in Paris, set against the current day sociopolitical background. Excellent.

Laura Pearson: I Wanted You To Know – At 21, new mother Jess finds a lump in her breast and as she continues her hospital appointments she writes a series of letters to be given to her daughter. A heartbreaking book, very difficult to read, but important.

Laura Pearson: Missing Pieces – When Phoebe dies, aged three, the resulting grief has a massive impact on her four surviving family members. A very good book that looks at different modes of grieving and the way communication and support is paramount (and a re-read).

Laura Pearson: Nobody’s Wife – Emily and Michael are newly married and Jo has just met Jack, but Emily isn’t sure about Michael and the newly-introduced Jack is very much like the men she always fell for. An easier read compared to Pearson’s other books and very different in content, but also very good.

No favourite this month; all are great books.

I’m currently reading more for podcasts, though I’ve also got a 1700s classic on the go. No further plans than that at the moment.

What are you reading?