Meditation on the Epistolary Novel

Last night, something happened on Twitter which is, in my opinion, just the kind of thing for which the service was created. UffishL mentioned re-reading and enjoying The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, a very popular epistolary novel published in 2008. This led to a flood of epistolary novel recommendations from different users, which I will attempt to collect here for the sake of tidiness.

According to my handy OED, "epistolary" means "of or pertaining to letters or letter-writing" and was first used c. 1656. Presumably it has its origins from the much older word "epistle," which harkens back to Latin and Greek. The part of the word's definition that I found most interesting was:

Chiefly (from its use in translations from L. and Gr.) applied to letters written in ancient times, esp. to those which rank as literary productions, or ... to those of a public character, or addressed to a body of persons. In application to ordinary (modern) letters now used only rhetorically or with playful or sarcastic implication [2d ed.].

Clearly, we need to bring back "epistle" into common parlance, as well as celebrating the epistolary novels that have sprung from it. Some of the earliest novels were done in the epistolary style--Clarissa (1748) and Evelina (1778) were both mentioned last night--but they aren't the kind of books that non-English majors are likely to pick up. Slightly more modern epistolary novels such as Jane Austen's Lady Susan (unpublished until 1871) and The Moonstone (1868), by Wilkie Collins, might appeal to Austen fans and mystery buffs, respectively. Someone interested in venturing across the Channel might consider Les Liaisons Dangereuses (1782), by Pierre Choderlos de Laclos. But while the epistolary novel was common in the 18th and 19th centuries, it's rare to find one published recently.

The format of the epistolary novel presents several challenges to a modern author. The action can't really be immediate, and the plot must be conducted through the medium of letters. Letters are not generally written in haste (or at all, these days), and the characters have to be the sort who would be writing in the first place. In a world where instantaneous communication is more and more common, and it's difficult to imagine having to wait weeks or even months to receive a letter, crafting an epistolary novel can be challenging. Most authors looking for a similar feel would probably opt for the diary or journal format instead. So, what are some more modern epistolary novels that might be worth reading--after finishing up Guernsey, for example?

The book I turn to immediately is not strictly a novel, but it does fit the tone and subject of The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society beautifully: Helene Hanff's 84 Charing Cross Road. Published in 1970, the book captures an exchange of letters between Hanff and the employees of a London bookstore. The book is short, sweet, funny, and heartbreaking all at once.

Alice Walker's The Color Purple (1982) is an epistolary novel, as is Richard Wright's Clara Callan (2001). For young adult readers or Regency romance fans, I recommend Sorcery and Cecelia or The Enchanted Chocolate Pot (1988), the first in a series by Caroline Stevermer and Patricia C. Wrede. Other recommendations from Twitter users included:

A Woman of Independent Means (1978), Elizabeth Forsythe Hailey
Griffin and Sabine (1991), Nick Bantock
Ella Minnow Pea (2001), Mark Dunn
Gilead (2004), Marilynne Robinson
Which Brings Me to You (2007), Steve Almond and Julianna Baggott

For more excellent recommendations, visit The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society website, bearing in mind that the definition of "epistolary novel" is a tricky one to establish. If we assume that an epistolary novel consists entirely of letters, then a great book like A.S. Byatt's Possession, in which letters are crucial to the development of the plot, would be left out. The Prestige, by Christopher Priest, also features an epistolary section.

And although it's a bit of a stretch, the Internet Girls novels (Ttyl, Ttfn, and L8r, g8r) by Lauren Myracle do have an epistolary flavor, and could indicate something about the future direction of epistolary works. In 2007, a Finnish novel was published that consisted entirely of text messages between a businessman and his friends and relatives. Twitter itself features an asynchronous and "@" communication that could serve as epistolary shorthand, and there are already various Twitter-based literary projects. If anyone else has more suggestions (or corrections, I haven't read all of the novels listed here, although I did page through the ones on the shelf in my library), please leave them in the comments.

ETA: Richardson's Pamela, because Donna pined for its inclusion in the list. Which means that I should also include Shamela.

Meditation Index

Book Review: Towers of Midnight [2010]

Towers of Midnight is the thirteenth and penultimate novel in Robert Jordan's epic Wheel of Time fantasy series. It is the second volume that has been released since Jordan's untimely death with the assistance of (noted doorstop-writer in his own right) Brandon Sanderson. For more on my thoughts on this "collaboration," see my review of the previous volume, The Gathering Storm. After reading Towers of Midnight, I am a little concerned about whether all of the delicate, intersecting plotlines and niggling questions will be wrapped up to everyone's satisfaction, but maybe that isn't necessary. At this point, having spent twenty years with the series, the idea that it might actually soon be complete (expected publishing date for A Memory of Light is spring 2012) is bizarre. The idea that it might be neatly wrapped up is almost unthinkable. Jordan and Sanderson spend this volume getting us prepared for the Last Battle between the forces of good and evil (also true of The Gathering Storm and probably several books before it). I could spend several paragraphs trying to summarize the plot and introduce the characters, but I won't bother, so what follows will probably be unintelligible to people who haven't read at least some of the books in the series. If that's you, just scroll down for the rant portion of this review.

In this volume, we spent much less time with Rand, a relief since his transformation into messiah is almost complete and that makes him not so interesting. Unfortunately, the price was spending many, many pages with Perrin instead. It's not that I dislike Perrin, exactly, but he's always been one of my lesser favorites among the main characters, and I don't really care as much as I apparently should about his struggle to balance wolf and man and accept his new status as a leader of men. Mat, once again, was relegated primarily to a comic relief role, until the very end when he and Thom went in to the Tower of Ghenjei to rescue Moiraine. For an event featured on the cover, the buildup took almost the entire book, and the rescue itself seemed a bit shortchanged as a result. There were some nice moments with Egwene, a few with Elayne and Nynaeve, and Lan's journey across the Borderlands, unwillingly gathering an army as he goes, was good for a few laughs. Aviendha learned about the depressing future of the Aiel. Stuff happened. Some things, like the near-universal misapprehension that Morgase was dead, were even resolved! I am glad to have Moiraine back as a character after an eight-book absence. After learning of Rand's plan to break the the remaining seals on the Dark One's prison, all of the major players and most of the world's armies are assembled by the end of the novel, and everything is ready to go for the last book.

Grade: B

Random Thoughts:

The most notable thing that happened around this book was an interaction I had when I was standing in line at a comic book store. Two guys in front of me were talking loudly about the book and saying "I can't believe Perrin--" At this point, I put my hands over my ears and said a quiet LALALALA to myself until they were done, when the guy closest to me turned to ask me why I was acting as if spoilers for Towers of Midnight might bother me. His tone and line of questioning implied that it was difficult for him to believe that I had read any of the books, much less the most recent one. I assume this was because I am female. When I indicated that yes, I had read them all, and also ascertained that I'd read more Sanderson books than he had, he switched to asking me if I could convince his wife to read Jordan. MAJOR EYEROLL. So let me just say it on this blog, in case someone like this guy is googling someday: Women also read epic fantasy. Some of them have even read more of it than you have. Please let your wife read whatever she wants to read.

One other thing that bothered me was the way Mat's character was constantly sizing up women's breasts and other attributes. Yes, Mat has been known a player, and I guess this might have been to counterbalance the seriousness of his injury at the end of the book, but did he really need to evaluate every woman he encountered? The relationships between men and women and the characterization of women in particular has always bothered me in Jordan's books, and this issue didn't really help that.

All right, bring on the last book. I'm ready.


Book Review Index
Dead Mother: Yes, I suppose

Book Review: The Knife of Never Letting Go [2008]

I can't pinpoint it exactly, but I'm pretty sure I picked up The Knife of Never Letting Go (on audio) because Jen told me to. I am very suggestible these days, so blog posts that praise things I'm already interested in reading have a tendency to spur me into action. It's a very difficult book to write a quick summary of, and I guess there may be spoilers below, depending on your definition of the term.

Todd Hewitt is the only boy in Prentisstown, which, as far as he knows, is the last outpost of a planetary colony in which all the women and most of the men died from a mysterious disease caused by the world's original residents, the Spackle. The remaining men are afflicted with what's called "Noise," essentially broadcasting their thoughts and feelings for all to see. As Todd approaches manhood under the care of his foster parents Ben and Cillian, he copes as best he can with the rage and despair he sees in the Noise around him. When Todd discovers the unthinkable--a girl--at the outskirts of Prentisstown, his life changes immediately and irrevocably. Ben and Cillian send him off toward another settlement with his talking dog, a map and a long-prepared pack, and a book filled with his mother's words. The town's fearsome preacher, Aaron, launches a maniacal pursuit and nearly kills both Todd and the mysterious girl, Viola, who turns out to be the survivor of a crashed scout ship from another wave of colonizers. Viola and Todd have only each other to rely on as they try to make their way--through wilderness and unexpected settlements, through their vast differences and Todd's ignorance and countless close calls just ahead of Aaron's madness--toward some kind of safe haven.

This is the kind of book where so many bad things happen to the characters that the positive developments seem transparent or coincidental by comparison to the driving, merciless chase. It reminds me of The Hunger Games in the brutal, unapologetic way that good people kill and good people are killed. I say "as far as he knows" about Todd above because almost all of the truths that he takes for granted when the book begins are systematically stripped away as he and Viola flee from Aaron and the rest of the Prentisstown men. Todd  grows enormously as a character during the course of the book, and the growing pains are sometimes quite difficult to experience with him.

Grade: A-

I would recommend this book to fans of dystopian fiction, as well as fans of horror movies (I am looking at you, Amanda!) because of the way that Aaron keeps coming after Todd and Viola like a homicidal maniac, even after sustaining incredible damage. It's also a great study of the relationship between two young people, and how it changes under pressure and over time. I do not recommend it for people who don't like violence, especially against innocents; I was crying in the car on several occasions.

Random Thoughts:

In addition to being horrifically fascinating and an intriguing exercise in worldbuilding, I read the book as a sharp commentary on fundamentalism. The colonist group that included Todd's parents and foster parents were religious settlers, leaving in the face of persecution to find a new home where they could make a different way of life. There are settlements where this translates to a surprisingly female-ascendant system of government, and then there's Prentisstown. Todd's home is a place where learning has gradually been eradicated to the point where he doesn't even know how to read, probably because it makes it easier for Mayor Prentiss to perpetuate his version of history. The prevailing view of women, judging by later events, sees them as objects for raping and killing, and Aaron, the book's scariest character, is the Prentisstown man of God.

The book was written in a grinding first-person present tense that really lends itself both to the audio format and the fast pace of the action. Having picked up the print version, I see that I missed out on a few font tricks having to do with Noise, but it was nothing that wasn't capably translated in the audio, which I highly recommend.

I'm currently taking a break before tackling the second book. I actually have it in the car, ready to go, but the first one was so exhausting to read that I've been listening to other things instead. I'd like to continue the series, because it's highly recommended, but it may take me a while to work up to The Ask and The Answer. I need to take a break from books that I want to use the word "brutal" to describe.

Book Review Index
Dead Mother: Yes, many