I’ve often thought about the two endings of Great Expectations, but a lot more so since watching the 2012 version over Christmas (as expected as that might sound considering how recent it was).

My initial thoughts on reaching the end of my copy – the Vintage Classics edition that features both endings – was that the original ending far surpassed the revised one in terms of quality and overall sense. That Estella spurns Pip yet one more time matches the person she had been in all the time he knew her, whilst the second ending’s happily ever after stance seemed a prime example of something worked simply to please the crowds. Or at least, in this case, Dickens’ peer, the novelist and politician Edward Bulwer-Lytton, who said it was too sad¹; I think we can safely say many readers would have liked the original. That said, the revised ending doesn’t specifically say that the characters got together.

Watching the film made me think a little more. The original ending has Estella effectively behaving as she always has, continuing to be the person Miss Havisham trained her or created her to be. In the second ending we could say that Estella eschews this training; perhaps her behaviour now is more a reflection of who she is without Miss Havisham – perhaps she’s now the person, or moving towards the person, she is without Miss Havisham’s input. She’s now herself.

Taking the endings as they are without their background literary context, they both work for different reasons.

Where the film influenced my thoughts was in what I considered Holliday Grainger’s very good performance – the Estella she and, also, Helena Barlow (as the younger Estella) portrayed, was not someone I saw changing. It seemed to me quite literally out of character for Grainger’s Estella to change as she did; I suppose you could say it highlighted for me why the original ending pips the second to the post. But it did still illustrate further than the simple dialogue and other text of the book, in regards to Miss Havisham’s teaching, how much nurture has to play in our lives.

Your thoughts?

Footnotes

¹ In his 1874 biography of Dickens, John Forster wrote: “One other letter throws light upon an objection taken not unfairly to the too great speed with which the heroine, after being married, reclaimed, and widowed, is in a page or two again made love to, and remarried by the hero. This summary proceeding was not originally intended. But, over and above its popular acceptance, the book had interested some whose opinions Dickens specially valued (Carlyle among them, I remember); and upon Bulwer Lytton objecting to a close that should leave Pip a solitary man, Dickens substituted what now stands. “You will be surprised” he wrote “to hear that I have changed the end of Great Expectations from and after Pip’s return to Joe’s, and finding his little likeness there. Bulwer, who has been, as I think you know, extraordinarily taken by the book, so strongly urged it upon me, after reading the proofs, and supported his view with such good reasons, that I resolved to make the change. You shall have it when you come back to town. I have put in as pretty a little piece of writing as I could, and I have no doubt the story will be more acceptable through the alteration.” This turned out to be the case; but the first ending nevertheless seems to be more consistent with the drift, as well as natural working out, of the tale, and for this reason it is preserved in a note.”

Book References

Forster, John (1874), The Life Of Charles Dickens, James R Osgood & Company, Boston, Vol. 3, p. 360.

Well, that went by quickly. Despite the fact that when looking back, January was a long month, it nevertheless seems to have gone by swiftly. The weather may have had something to do with it – there has been rain but also a lot of sun and it’s not too cold – and the days are getting noticeably longer. I finally finished the jumper I’ve been making, with some help from Second Mum. When it came to sewing the seams I had to give up after five attempts – it’s one thing to watch a YouTube video and memorise the instructions and another when it comes to applying it to your own work. As it got to the point where I was avoiding knitting in general I realised it would be better to get help this time and use the knowledge I’d learned to change my next jumper’s pattern so my second attempt would be easier.

My reading went very well. Despite feeling rather foggy for a good portion of it I managed four books, which included two 500 page novels. Those I finished weren’t the best, but I am currently reading Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Americanah and loving it.

All books are works of fiction.

The Books

J Courtney Sullivan: The Engagements – The copywriter who created ‘a diamond is forever’ sees sales hike; an older couple very reluctantly prepare for the visit of their not-yet-divorced son and his new girlfriend; a man ponders his job and the life he wished for; a Parisian takes a chance with a New Yorker; a happily unmarried cousin helps a couple prepare for their wedding. A nice idea but very long and not always well executed.

Philip Pullman: La Belle Sauvage – Malcolm’s life changes when a group of academics enter his parents’ pub, the convent takes in baby Lyra, and another group of men seem to want to cause harm. Allright on its own, unnecessary as an addition to the series.

Sarah MacLean: A Rogue By Any Other Name – A man who lost his fortune decides to return and marry his childhood friend when word reaches him that the fortune is to be part of her dowry. Repetitive and overly angsty.

Shannon Stacey: Mistletoe & Margaritas – A widower and her husband’s best friend find themselves becoming more than just friends. This was a semi-carryover from last year; it’s a standalone novella that has since been added to a collection; Stacey is a hit and miss author for me and this one was more of a miss but the shortness of the tale works in its favour – Stacey’s narrative structures are always well thought out.

Out of the four, the Pullman was my favourite and I keen on the MacLean. That said, I’m glad I read the MacLean as I’d been wanting to for a while.

February should see a few review copies, including Jessie Greengrass’s Sight. And I’m hoping to get through the Ngozi Adiche but if not – it’s not a thick book but the print is small – a good portion of it.

How is your new year reading going?

As I was reading La Belle Sauvage, it struck me how relatively inaccessible it was to new readers. I say relatively because it is accessible; it’s a case of there being a lot left unsaid that relies on you having read His Dark Materials, but what’s left unsaid isn’t anything that would actively detract from the experience of a new reader, who would quite likely not notice. Pullman achieved a good balance.

Should a new book for a series that started (and ended) years ago – thinking, of course, of situations like older trilogies and new ones – be written for the original audience only – since grown up and thus creating the situation wherein you want an adult book for what was once a children’s series – or should the new book be written with an eye to the new generation?

What responsibility does the author have in the context of ages? If they were to call the new book an adult book then the intention would be clear but the result would be a book that may well not be appreciated because the original audience would be looking for more of the same – the same magic that was in the previous books.

In that way, writing in the same fashion – for children – works for both original and new readers. You want the magic of the original series; in many ways you’re actively looking for a children’s book. (With all the debates about adults reading Young Adult books, a point must surely be made about YA books in a series that started long ago. Certainly the buzz around La Belle Sauvage suggests that’s perfectly acceptable.)

There’s also a basic responsibility the author surely has – that previous fan base is most likely where sales will begin. And it’s the adults who have been waiting or, if not actively waiting in the case of a new book being a more sudden occurrence, the most appreciative.

Should we or can we expect new, younger, readers, to start with the older books? The young readers who will likely be most interested in the new books are those who have been introduced to the older books by parents, siblings, and so on, so they’re effectively in the same boat. If they haven’t read the original books yet but planned to/have had them put on their reading list by an enthusiastic adult, we can assume they’d not be ‘allowed’ to read the new book until they’d finished the originals.

This naturally moves on to content – should prior details be regurgitated? Pullman didn’t do this – if he had it may have been more of a filler book that it is – but how much is detail needed? Should the length of time between books be considered or is it safe to assume that fans who feel they’ve forgotten will have re-read the original series prior to the new release? I think it is.

Of course the lack of old details – in Pullman’s case there isn’t a long description of the ‘bad guys’ and not much world-building – may stop new readers starting with the new books. That could well be argued to be a good thing.

A lot of all this depends on the individual – what they remember, how much time and inclination they have to re-read, and whether they’re happy with any big changes. But considering the fact that there are lots of books that do include repetitive details in series – in my experience the worst is another old series, The Babysitter’s Club which effectively paraphrases or copies and pastes (I always skipped them so can’t say either way) the same first several pages of the first books continually, presumably to aid memory but actively making it look as though there’s more story – a book that doesn’t has the effect of trusting the reader to remember instead of creating the unfortunate other effect of making the reader feel the author doesn’t trust them to remember.

I think continuing for the original readers is a good thing. And it provides another book for them to introduce to the new generation (or provides the excited conversation that would intrigue a young reader to look for the older ones themselves… we can hope!)

Your thoughts?

Lydiard Park is a large estate in Swindon. Now owned by the local council, only some of the building is accessible to the public as the first floor and some parts of the ground floor are used as meeting rooms and for other council purposes, but the medieval church and the grounds are free to roam, and there is a cafe and walled garden, so all in all it constitutes a good casual day out – a fair length of time if you want to see it all, and a couple of hours if it’s your local park and you want to take the dog for a walk.

Presumably due to the house being mostly council space, the accessible ground floor sports all kinds of rooms. You start in the side corridor rather than at the front of the house, as you do in many others, pay for entry, and walk into a large hallway/receiving hall space. The house was sold by the original owners to the council unfurnished – it had been the in the same family since the medieval period – so the furniture has been collected. It’s been done very well; the rooms are well decorated and there are plenty of paintings on the walls.

The dining room is small, but the living rooms are large and there is a lot to see if you like to look at old items close up. The ‘state bedroom’ is pretty special, so too the blue room at the end that was likely a chapel, and of course it’s always good to see a library. The house, believed to have been built in the medieval period, was restructured in the Georgian decades so behind the walls there are even older elements. It’s that catch 22 that befalls a lot of old buildings that were restructured in the days when people didn’t think of history – the restructure has value as a historic building as much as the Tudor, so decisions have to be made in terms of keeping it as it is or cutting back further in time.

To go back to the original family, briefly, they were called St John (or, rather, are called – one present-day relative writes about the house). There is a connection with the House of Tudor – Margaret Beauchamp, later grandmother of Henry VII, was related to the St Johns via her first marriage. They kept the house right up until the 1940s. It had been requisitioned for use as a war hospitals and training grounds whilst and at the same time this was happening the family were deciding to move on.

Back to the estate itself, whilst the house is a short trip in itself, the church and surrounding parkland make up for it. It’s best to visit the church before you go around the park.

Something that I think can be considered special is the way access to the church is allowed; whilst you understandably can’t visit it when a service is happening (unless you want to join in, I suppose), the key to the church is available to borrow from the staff at the house. This means you get the church to yourself, or mostly for yourself – as keyholder you’re responsible for ushering out anyone who happens to enter before you leave (not to turn them away but so the church can be locked again).

It’s really worth the visit. The church is very old and though you can’t see it from my photos – it was a little too dark near the altar – a lot of what could be assumed the original artwork remains. (At least I like to think it’s original – Catholic churches of old were very beautiful, colourful, and so it does follow that the starry ceiling of St Mary’s could date back to the pre-Reformation years.)

So to the grounds – they are vast, more vast than they first seem (you have to start exploring to see just how much there is to find). The Chinese bridge takes you over the lake to a patch of woodland which then winds round back across the lake where you can choose to tramp round the fields or go further out. The track back to the gates takes you past the ice house, or a slightly different route takes you to the walled garden and stables, where you’ll find the cafe.

Like most house grounds, the items of particular interest outside are near the building, so if you’re coming from afar the opening hours offer more than enough time. A keen walker may want to return to see what lies in the distance. And as the grounds do serve as a local park, it’s a lovely casual experience.

The rest of my photos

This year I read 59 books. Less than I’d hoped but when I looked at it again I realised I’d focused on that ‘5’ – 59 is one less than 60 and 60 is the average number for me. As stated previously, I wasn’t able to read as much in December as I had planned so I’m using some of January to make up for that albeit that I’ve chosen different books. The few times Ana and Iris hosted their Long-Awaited Reads month had a continuing impact on me and when a new year rolls around I find myself thinking of books I’ve had for a while or, in the case of Philip Pullman, books I’ve had for a short time but have been waiting for for years.

As with last year I had difficulty arriving at my previously usual 5 ‘best of’ books so again there are only 3. I believe it is indeed an issue of discernment and experience and I’m just going to go with the flow. There’s a subtle difference between an amazing book and an amazing book that blows you away and I’ll continue to use the differentiation to highlight particular books.

As always, books that have been reviewed have a line underneath them and the title links to the review. Up until my personal favourites list, all books are rated as objectively as possible. If you’d prefer to skip all that, click here to view my personal favourites.

The Best Of The Best

Kit De Waal: My Name Is Leon – Confused as to why he can’t stay with his mother as he is doing a good job looking after her, Leon is taken in by a foster carer whilst his white brother is adopted. A fantastic look at the British social services in the 1980s and the wider issues involved.
Phillip Lewis: The Barrowfields – Henry looks back on his childhood, his father who tried so hard to be a writer, his distant relationships with mother and sister, and his own attempts to be someone. Utterly fantastic.
Tom Connolly: Men Like Air – Three British and one American man in New York, living their lives, getting the flu, ending strange relationships, and working in art galleries. Difficult to summarise, I’ve opted to show the comedy element; this is a fab book.

5

• Charlotte Perkins Gilman: Herland
• Helen Oyeyemi: What Is Not Yours Is Not Yours
• Nicholas Royle: An English Guide To Birdwatching
• Orlando Ortega-Medina: Jerusalem Ablaze

4.5

• A J Waines: Lost In The Lake
• Amanda Craig: The Other Side Of You
• Anthony Cartwright: The Cut
• Caroline Lea: When The Sky Fell Apart
• Chitra Ramaswamy: Expecting
• Claire North: The End Of The Day
• Eric Beck Rubin: School Of Velocity
• Harper Lee: To Kill A Mockingbird
• Joanna Cannon: The Trouble With Goats And Sheep
• Louise Douglas: The Secret By The Lake
• Naomi Hamill: How To Be A Kosovan Bride
• Nicholas Royle: Ornithology
• Terri Fleming: Perception
• Zoë Duncan: The Shifting Pools

4

• A J Waines: Girl On A Train
• Josephine Johnson: Now In November
• Juan Carlos Márquez: Tangram
• Louise Douglas: The Love Of My Life
• Margaret Laurence: The Stone Angel
• Marie-Sabine Roger: Get Well Soon
• Nicola Cornick: The Phantom Tree
• Ricarda Huch: The Last Summer
• Samanta Schweblin: Fever Dream
• Susanna Kearsley: The Shadowy Horses
• Tom Malmquist: In Every Moment We Are Still Alive
• Tove Jansson: Letters From Klara

3.5

• Emma Cline: The Girls
• Fanny Blake: Our Summer Together
• Joanna Hickson: The Agincourt Bride
• Kate Chopin: Bayou Folk
• Lesley Glaister: The Squeeze
• Lewis Carroll: Through The Looking-Glass
• Sally O’Reilly: Dark Aemilia

3

• Adrian Mourby: Rooms Of One’s Own
• Alison Kent: This Time Next Year
• April Munday: The Heir’s Tale
• Barbara Erskine: Sleeper’s Castle
• Emma Henderson: The Valentine House
• HelenKay Dimon: It’s Not Christmas Without You
• Helen Irene Young: The May Queen
• Isabella Connor: Beneath An Irish Sky
• Julianne Pachico: The Lucky Ones
• Rory Gleeson: Rockadoon Shore

2.5

• Charlotte Perkins Gilman: With Her In Ourland
• Evie Wyld: All The Birds, Singing
• Hanif Kureishi: The Last Word
• Jaci Burton: A Rare Gift
• Jennifer Donnelly: Revolution

2

• Lindsey Hutchinson: The Workhouse Children

1.5

• F Scott Fitzgerald: Tender Is The Night

1

• Kitty Danton: Evie’s Victory

0.5

• Alison Sherlock: A House To Mend A Broken Heart

My Personal Favourites

At the start of 2017 I went back a few steps – where previously I’d got into the habit of saying ‘no goals’, in 2017 I said ‘no goals, but’. I’d considered making a vague plan for diversity in all senses of the word and I was compelled to make it formal, albeit that I didn’t set any numerical targets. Lo and behold, whilst I didn’t fail exactly, I definitely didn’t do as well as I’d hoped, so this year I’m purposefully not going to make any plan even though I want to. What I am going to do that I think (hope!) is okay to think of as a goal, is read more of my own books.

One area in which I did do well, at least in context, was older books. I added a count for books published before 1970 to my 2017 list and retrospectively, and found the number increasing without much thought. 1970 feels most right to me – a cut off is difficult and at times I feel 1970 is too young but when readers are calling Angela Thirkell’s 1960s works classics and you want to include Barbara Comyns 1950s and 1960s, that date seems the way to go.

Quotation Report

In Bayou Folk, a woman who seems 125 years old is respected, however, she is not 125 years old… she may be older.

In Get Well Soon an older man wishes people would just get on with the idea of accepting people as they are. And in The Cut, Cairo reminds us that whilst the media talks a lot about a divide and makes it seem all-pervading, most often people just get on with their lives.

In The Shifting Pools, Duncan puts forth the concept of getting over something, healing, and studies it, saying why time doesn’t heal, it merely allows you to scab over, to find new ways to live. Stasis rather than healing.

In School Of Velocity, Jan recommends a musician use the energy in the air as the house lights go down as a kind of armour. Then there’s this:

Accompaniment is a particular skill. You are the bridge between the audience and the soloist, a lens that magnifies the leading melody, a handler to the outsized personality next to you, one player who sometimes has to be two.

And in Rooms Of One’s Own, Mourby quotes from William Morris (“Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful”) which makes one wonder whether Marie Kondo is a fan.

I missed Wednesday’s post but with good reason – I’m getting back into the swing of things and have 3 posts in the works, it’s just that they’re not finished yet. I may have to write more than one post on La Belle Sauvage because there’s the objective side of it and then the very personal part of my overall experience. We’ll see.

What was your favourite(s) book from last year?