Werther's Original Wednesday
What I've Finished Reading
I needed a break from Phil Maddison's semi-coherent crankiness, so I read THE BEST POSSIBLE BOOK for that purpose and also, as befits its role as a Chronicle of Ancient Sunlight antidote, one of the shortest non-picture books I have ever read. It's called The Sorrows of Young Werther and it's the sad tale of an adorable doofus who never reckoned on having to live in an imperfect world when his skin and his summer days have always been perfect heretofore. I mean, he knows there's such a thing as the inherent tragedy of all life, because it gets name-checked in all his favorite songs, but no one told him it would hurt this much!!
The plot is very simple. Thackeray put it best:
If it's wrong to receive a story about a promising young dude who idiotically talks himself into shooting himself with his beloved Charlotte's own pistols, ostensibly to "make her life easier," as a hilariously delightful breath of golden springtime, well. . . at least I'm not the first? Werther's crazy emo charm is real, and so is Charlotte's very human equanimity. She's not heartless, and she likes Werther - but life has its way of going on. This story was based partly on a real suicide, partly on Goethe's own hopeless crush on a married friend, and uses the best parts of pity and wry self-awareness.
<3
What I'm Reading Now
I didn't give up on the Chronicle, of course! A Solitary War and Lucifer Before Sunrise are both perfectly tolerable 90% of the time, though Henry Williamson seems to have more or less given up on the ensemble cast - as Phil gets crankier and more frustrated, the people in his life fade into catchphrases and cardboard antagonists and one or two pairs of beseeching feminine eyes. The scope of narrative sympathy narrows along with Phil's own. Phil is exhausted trying to live his ideal of honest farm work, whose perfectly predictable failure he is far too inclined to blame on everyone else's decadence. His neighbors spread rumors about him being a German spy, some of which are unfair and some of which he might try to counter by not trying to get other people to listen to his favorite Hitler speeches quite so often. He frets about someday getting the time to sit down and write his generation's War and Peace, and maybe out here beyond the book we're supposed to realize that he has! but it's not enough just being as big a crank as Tolstoy; War and Peace gets its power from its soapiness, and HW is committed to making his narrative as repetitive and nearly joyless as Phil's true experiences of running a farm and failing to write a novel because he's too tired from running the farm. I added that "nearly" because every now and then there is some joy, usually in the form of some grass or a bat or the feeling of being awake at night in an inexpressibly complex living world. HW's nature writing was always his strong point, even back before he developed all these weak points.
There is also Emma Dunning Banks's Original Recitations With Lesson-Talks, an 1896 handbook for the elocution student or dedicated amateur. It's exactly what it says: 54 monologues chosen for their popularity as recitations (as opposed to their literary merit, the introduction is quick to point out - too many budding elecutionists pick their favorite poems only to have them sink like stones because they're too delicate or specific for general audiences) with stanza-by-stanza instructions on how to get the best performance out of each. It's a fascinating look at a lost world.
What I Plan to Read Next
That's the real question!![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
osprey_archer posted about C.S. Lewis' book An Experiment in Criticism a few days ago, so when I was in the library looking for something else, I saw it and took it home. Maybe that! Almost certainly more Phil, until the Phil runs out. Maybe cats who solve mysteries?
Yes, dear Lotte, I shall arrange and order everything; give me as many things to do as you like, and as often as possible. One thing, though: if I might ask you not to use sand to dry the notes you write me. . . ? Today I raised it hastily to my lips, and was left a gritty crunching in my teeth.
I needed a break from Phil Maddison's semi-coherent crankiness, so I read THE BEST POSSIBLE BOOK for that purpose and also, as befits its role as a Chronicle of Ancient Sunlight antidote, one of the shortest non-picture books I have ever read. It's called The Sorrows of Young Werther and it's the sad tale of an adorable doofus who never reckoned on having to live in an imperfect world when his skin and his summer days have always been perfect heretofore. I mean, he knows there's such a thing as the inherent tragedy of all life, because it gets name-checked in all his favorite songs, but no one told him it would hurt this much!!
The plot is very simple. Thackeray put it best:
Werther had a love for Charlotte
Such as words could never utter
Would you know how first he met her?
She was cutting bread and butter.
Charlotte was a married lady,
And a moral man was Werther,
And for all the wealth of Indies
Would do nothing that might hurt her.
So he sighed and pined and ogled,
And his passion boiled and bubbled;
Till he blew his silly brains out,
And no more was by them troubled.
Charlotte, having seen his body
Borne before her on a shutter,
Like a well conducted person
Went on cutting bread and butter.
If it's wrong to receive a story about a promising young dude who idiotically talks himself into shooting himself with his beloved Charlotte's own pistols, ostensibly to "make her life easier," as a hilariously delightful breath of golden springtime, well. . . at least I'm not the first? Werther's crazy emo charm is real, and so is Charlotte's very human equanimity. She's not heartless, and she likes Werther - but life has its way of going on. This story was based partly on a real suicide, partly on Goethe's own hopeless crush on a married friend, and uses the best parts of pity and wry self-awareness.
"We shall see each other again!" I cried. "We shall find each other, we shall pick each other out from among the many. I am going," I continued, "going of my own free will, yet if I thought we were parting for ever I could not bear it. Farewell, Lotte! Farewell, Albert! We shall meet again."
—"Tomorrow, I expect," she countered in jest.
<3
What I'm Reading Now
I didn't give up on the Chronicle, of course! A Solitary War and Lucifer Before Sunrise are both perfectly tolerable 90% of the time, though Henry Williamson seems to have more or less given up on the ensemble cast - as Phil gets crankier and more frustrated, the people in his life fade into catchphrases and cardboard antagonists and one or two pairs of beseeching feminine eyes. The scope of narrative sympathy narrows along with Phil's own. Phil is exhausted trying to live his ideal of honest farm work, whose perfectly predictable failure he is far too inclined to blame on everyone else's decadence. His neighbors spread rumors about him being a German spy, some of which are unfair and some of which he might try to counter by not trying to get other people to listen to his favorite Hitler speeches quite so often. He frets about someday getting the time to sit down and write his generation's War and Peace, and maybe out here beyond the book we're supposed to realize that he has! but it's not enough just being as big a crank as Tolstoy; War and Peace gets its power from its soapiness, and HW is committed to making his narrative as repetitive and nearly joyless as Phil's true experiences of running a farm and failing to write a novel because he's too tired from running the farm. I added that "nearly" because every now and then there is some joy, usually in the form of some grass or a bat or the feeling of being awake at night in an inexpressibly complex living world. HW's nature writing was always his strong point, even back before he developed all these weak points.
There is also Emma Dunning Banks's Original Recitations With Lesson-Talks, an 1896 handbook for the elocution student or dedicated amateur. It's exactly what it says: 54 monologues chosen for their popularity as recitations (as opposed to their literary merit, the introduction is quick to point out - too many budding elecutionists pick their favorite poems only to have them sink like stones because they're too delicate or specific for general audiences) with stanza-by-stanza instructions on how to get the best performance out of each. It's a fascinating look at a lost world.
What I Plan to Read Next
That's the real question!
osprey_archer posted about C.S. Lewis' book An Experiment in Criticism a few days ago, so when I was in the library looking for something else, I saw it and took it home. Maybe that! Almost certainly more Phil, until the Phil runs out. Maybe cats who solve mysteries?
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—"Tomorrow, I expect," she countered in jest.
LOL!
It sounds as if it might actually go in the same box as Castle of Otranto despite very different plots. (I had a whale of a time reading that and trying to work out whether Walpole was serious or trolling. I suspect at least 2/3s trollery.) Does Werther also the Serious Fanfic Remix? (Oh, wait, it has a Thackeray poem so it kind of does. /check)
I didn't give up on the Chronicle, of course!
I don't think any of us would blame you if you did! Although we do appreciate fully the sword you have fallen on for all of us.
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I mean, I enjoyed Werther pretty much from page one, but when I got to that bit about kissing the sand-blotted note, it was all over for me. I put both hands over my face and just reveled in the moment for a minute. Serious or not-entirely-serious - I think it inevitably has to be a little bit of both. Goethe's not unkind to Werther, but in order to be kind to Werther you have to see him. Werther seen with a clear eye is inevitably a little funny (sometimes a lot).
As for the Chronicle, I've come too far to give up now! And I'm not not enjoying it.
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It really does sound like the same mix of things that made Otranto such an unexpectedly delightful read. (I mention it again, because I checked my original review and you probably didn't see it and there is a whole thing with a GIANT MAGIC SUIT OF ARMOUR in it and I would a be a neglectful person if I failed to mention this. I need to read it again sometime.)
Werther seen with a clear eye is inevitably a little funny (sometimes a lot).
Poor Werther! I had, I think, come across the Thackeray poem being quoted somewhere, but not really much mention of the full thing. I don't suppose I shall stumble over a random 20p paperback containing "Seven masterpieces of Bathetic Fiction" unlike Otranto and its Rational Remix The English Baron, but you just wait till I have some sort of e-reader. One day. Maybe next century...)
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If you want to read Werther in paperback form, I can put it in the mail! It's light enough that the international shipping shouldn't be too much of a problem. (it really is a slim volume). Let me know; I'm happy to give the gift of Very Serious Feelings. <3 The poem is one of the footnotes in the back.
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However, yes, 100% worth reading, and also very short so if you don't end up enjoying it (although if nothing else the Giant Random Armor should be worth something) you won't have wasted much time.
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It was a couple of years ago for me too, now, but that is pretty much how I remember it too!
I should re-read it because my instant reaction was that it should be a YUletide fandom if it wasn't already, but then I got distracted by Mannerling the randomly evil stately home from MC Beaton's fic instead. (Tough choices have to be made sometimes.)
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(The Old English Baron is a painstaking Otranto 18th C Fanfic fixit by a lady with decided ideas about getting rid of all that OTT supernatural nonsense like GIANT suits of armour. I had this book that had both of them, which was a good experience, despite the fact that Baron is by no means as much fun.)
If you want to read Werther in paperback form, I can put it in the mail!
That is very sweet of you! I tell you what, I will double check the library next week and make sure that I don't actually have access to it (maybe there is something in the classics or NF lit section as I've never looked) as I'd feel really bad if you posted it all the way from the US and then it was here all along. If not, I might well take you up on it if you're still willing. <3
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(The Old English Baron is a painstaking Otranto 18th C Fanfic fixit by a lady with decided ideas about getting rid of all that OTT supernatural nonsense like GIANT suits of armour.
That is wonderful. Is there just a normal suit of armor that was made for a guy who was maybe a little larger than average? Someday, I'll find out!
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That is wonderful. Is there just a normal suit of armor that was made for a guy who was maybe a little larger than average? Someday, I'll find out!
Maybe you will! It is a bit longer than Otranto (like 130 pages! 0_o) but it also has some good bits and you can see that she refined the genre, even if it then got rather tedious for a while, at least up until the hero started weeping and hugging his mentors' legs again. (Both of them. He has two. One time he tried to hug both their legs at once. He probably would have given Werther the sort of sympathy Charlotte was lacking in.)