Maurice
E.M. Forster
263 p.

Penguin Classics, 2005.
(first published 1971 by Edward Arnold - written 1913-14)

For Decades ‘08.

Back cover blurb:

Maurice Hall is a young man who grows up confident in his privileged status and well aware of his role in society. Modest and generally conformist, he nevertheless finds himself increasingly attracted to his own sex. Through Clive, whom he encounters at Cambridge, and through Alex, the gamekeeper on Clive’s country estate, Maurice gradually experiences a profound emotional and sexual awakening. A tale of passion, bravery and defiance, this intensely personal novel was completed in 1914 but remained unpublished until after Forster’s death in 1970. Compellingly honest and beautifully written, it offers a powerful condemnation of the repressive attitudes of British society, and is at oce a moving love story and an intimate tale of one man’s erotic and political self-discovery.

The introduction, by David Leavitt, explores the signifcantce of the novel in relation to Forster’s own life and as a founding work of modern gay literature. This edition reproduces the Abinger text of the novel, and includes new notes, a chronology and further reading.

I read this book for the first time about a year and a half ago. I finished it quickly, perhaps due to the four-hour train-rides. Still, I was instantly intrigued, so intrigued that I bought A Room With A View to get some of Forster’s language. For his language is one of the best things with him. It is subtle and so beautiful. One of my favourite passages goes thusly:

Durham could not wait. People were all around them, but with eyes that had gone intensely blue he whispered ‘I love you.’ (48)

To be honest, I have some problems with Clive (Durham). This is not because of his character (or yes it is, he’s a bit of an arsehole when he turns straight), but it is because he is played by Hugh Grant in the film-version. So everything he says I hear in Hugh Grant’s voice. I mean, I’m not one of the millions who seem to hate him, but still! It’s a little strange. Strangely, I don’t get the same thing with the rest of the characters. This might be related to the fact that they aren’t well-known characters. Perhaps. Nevermind! Here is another passage I adore!

He shook the ladder and glanced into the woods, but the wish to go into them vanished as soon as he could go. What use was it? He was too old for fun in the damp.

But as he returned to his bed a little noise sounded, a noise so intimate that it might have arisen inside his own body. He seemed to crackle and burn and saw the ladder’s top quivering against the moon-lit air. The head and the shoulders of a man rose up, paused, a gun was leant against the window sill very carefully, and someone he scarcely knew moved towards him and knelt beside him and whispered, ‘Sir, was you calling out for me? … Sir, I know … I know,’ and touched him. (170)

I will not comment on this because I would just splutter incoherently.

Admittedly, I was not quite as taken with the novel this time. This is, however, more to personal reasons than literary. (I felt I recognised Maurice’s and Clive’s relationship a little too well for my liking.) It has, however, made me want to read more Forster again. But I don’t know what to read! Well, seeing as I am pretty much booked full (ohoho, I’m so funny!) until the summer, it’s perhaps good. When time presents itself, I can always ask my literature-nerd-parents what to read.

One thing I love with this novel is that the homosexuals get the happy ending - not the heterosexuals. It is brilliant. I would say “funny”, but that would give you the wrong connotations. Oh, brilliant ol’ Forster!

Trollvinter
Tove Jansson
146 p.

Awe Gebers, 1957.

Back cover blurb:

Det är inte lätt att vakna ur sitt vinteride i januari och inte kunna somna om.
Mumintrollet var det första mumintroll som nånsin upplevat vintern och i början var han förfärligt ensam i det sovande huset. Men småningom befolkades hans dal med vinterns hemlighetsfulla varelser, och den här boken handlar om hur han försökte klara sig med dem och den främmande iskalla värld han ramlat in i.
Här bredvid ser ni My som klarade sig utmärkt med detsamma och den lilla hunden Ynk som däremot tyckte att tillvaron var en besvärlig historia.

This is not my favourite Moomin-book. It was nice, but never had me as roused as Trollkarlens hatt or Farlig midsommar or Mumintrollet på kometjakt did. This is probably because, of all the regular Moomin-characters, there are only actually two (Moomin himself and Little My) appears. Snufkin, my absolute favourite, didn’t appear, despite being mentioned here and there. This novel introduces a number of new characters, Tooticky, a little dog called Ynk (or, that’s his name in the Swedish version, I don’t know at all what his name in the translation is), and a quite annoying Hemul.

The absolute highlight of this novel is when the Groke, who is as terrifying as she is fascinating, appears, wanting to be warmed, but is unable to, because she is so cold. I find the Groke to be a extremely interesting character, because she seems to scare the living daylights out of everyone who has read these novels - I talk to people who haven’t read these books in years, and still they stare wide-eyed and look frightened when we reach the Groke.

The mood of this novel is different from the rest. It’s more melancholic than before, and more subdued. It doesn’t feel as sparkling and happy. It is, actually, quite depressing. However, it is (thankfully!) not at all as depressing as real life. And it is still very good.

The Crucible
Arthur Miller
127 p.

Penguin Classics, 2000.
(first published 1953.)

Back cover blurb:

Arthur Miller’s classic parable of mass hysteria draws a chilling parallel between the Salem witch-hunt of 1692 - ‘one of the strangest and most awful chapters in human history’ - and the McCarthyism which gripped America in the 1950s. The story of how the small community of Salem is stirred into madness by superstition, paranoia and malice, culminating in a violent climax, is a savage attack on the evils of mindless persecution and the terrifying power of false accusations.

The man who wrote this play was married to Marilyn Monroe. Unfortunately, this play is by no means as amazing as she was. In fact, I found it down-right bad. There are perhaps two characters who does not make me want to stab someone. I believe that the reader (or viewer, I suppose) ought to be sympathetic to Proctor, but me? I just sat there and hoped that a rock would fall down and squash him mercilessly. And Abigail? Let’s not get started with Abigail. If we did, we’d be here all night, and I, sad as it is, need my eight hours of sleep plus some extra, for good luck. In short: I hate these people.

And the writing! Gor, the writing! It is so pretentious and I don’t believe in it. I don’t think that that was the way people spoke in the seventeenth century. And all the scene descriptions! Barely a sentence goes by before you get interrupted by a bracket with some insignificant detail telling us that the character is going to pick up a green book with daffodils on. Oh, that was made-up, but it is more or less that level of artistry. It is bad.

Wikipedia tells me this is a tragedy, which is why I am categorising it as such. In any other case, I would categorise it under “comedy”, even though the only thing funny about it is how incredibly, exceedingly dull it is.

Macbeth
William Shakespeare
142 p.

Classical Comics Ltd., 2008.
(First published 1623.)

Back cover blurb:

William Shakespeare’s full and unabridged play in comic book form!

This full colour graphic novel presents “The Scottish Play” just as Shakespeare intended: in its original and unabridged format. Ideal for purists, students and readers who will appreciate the unaltered text.

Macbeth is probably the most dramatic of Shakespeare’s tragedies and this version will give you a brand new and totally fulfilling view of the sheer genius of Shakespeare’s story telling.

Witchcraft, superstition, murder - it’s all here! Featuring stunning artwork, and full of action, atmosphere and intrigue from start to finish; this new treatment of The Bard’s wonderful tragedy will have you on the edge of your seat.

I can’t say how many times I’ve read this play. This in itself feels a little ridiculous to say, seeing as I’m not even legal, but already I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve read it. I have read it, at least, four times. Those are the times I can definitely account for. Additionally, I have seen it probably five times, in different versions (stage and film), and then tehre’s this. Macbeth in a graphic novel version.

That concept itself wins my adoration. Especially it makes a good graphic novel. The transposation from the empty text to the illustrated text goes smoothly, and makes it understandable. I did, for a while, get very iffed at the very untrendy haircuts everyone had, but I assume that since everyone probably looked like that, I am a bit unfair for dissing them like that. (oh, ouch, that is very colloquial!)

Now, I filed this in school reads, which is slightly misdirecting. I have read this play for school a number of times, and it wasn’t strictly for school I read it. Oh, alright, if it weren’t for school I probably wouldn’t have crammed in enough time to actually read it. I’m just tagging it for school because in some manners, it is for school. Even if my reading it again didn’t benefit me much!

This being a little sidetrack from the topic, I would like to say that the semicolon in the last paragraph of the back cover blurb creeps me out. I can not at all make it understandable. It ought to be a bloody comma! …I really ought to stop being so annoyed at back cover blurbs, oughtn’t I?

Though this is an opinion I almost fear to voice, I must say I strongly dislike Lady Macbeth. I won’t go so far as to say I hate her, but she irks me quite badly. In my eyes, she is the real fiend in the play. Which is a pity, because in reality, she is quite a fascinating characters, but all her arrogance and self-certainty just annoys me, and makes me pity Macbeth.

Of course, no one holds a candle to Banquo. Banquo is the best. Even though he might, in this version, look like a carrot-headed idiot.