Sense and Sensibility
Jane Austen
409 p.

Penguin Classics, 2003
(first published 1811)

Back cover blurb:

Marianne Dashwood wears her heart on her sleeve, and when she falls in love with the dashing but unsuitable John Willoughby she ignores her sister Elinor’s warning that her impulsive behaviour leaves her open to gossip and innuendo. Meanwhile, Elinor, always sensitive to social convention, is struggling to conceal her own romantic disappointment, even from those closest to her Through their parallel experience of love - and its threatened loss - the sisters learn that sense must mix with sensibility if they are to find personal happiness in a society where status and money govern the rules of love.

This book was so boring. Really. I mean, I liked Pride and Prejudice and all, but there was no interest in this book. Okay, I’ll admit, I thought it was a little exciting when Marianne was dying and we had confession time from Willoughby, but otherwise? No. Additionally, I was very confused a lot of the time, because every other person shared the same name, and sometimes they referred to a person as “Miss ___”, and other times by their first names. Keep to one name, people! (I had the same thing against A Game of Thrones. Is it so hard to have one name for people? I mean, in dialogue you can have as many names as possible, but when it’s dialogue I think it one name should suffice.)

As if it wasn’t enough that the story itself was pretty uninteresting, there was the longest and most boring essay after the book was finished which I forced myself to read. It was more boring than the novel itself. It was an old introduction by some Cambridge scholar. Although it was more drab than any other introduction I have read (and seeing as I almost always read the introduction if there is one, I’ve quite a few), it at least told me that apparently, Sense and Sensibility was one of the least-loved Austen-novels. And that made me feel a bit better. I suppose that one day, when I am less lazy and when I have all and any Austen-novel at my perusal, I might read another few, and I hope I will like them more.

Die Verwandlung
Franz Kafka
59 p.

Fischer, 1986
(first published by Kurt Wolff Verlag, 1915)

Back cover blurb:

none

I am officially mad. I studied German for five years, but I quit more than a year ago. Reading Kafka in this language is not sane. However, I did not have much of a choice, if I were to read it (not counting online). The Swedish copies were out on loan, as were the English. But, hey, we owned it in German! So I read it in German. And I didn’t understand anything. Or, sometimes I understood a word or two, and other times even complete sentences! However, I was never really sure what was going on. Except when people died. I understand “tot”.

So, I actually read it online after finishing it in German. Looking back, I maybe should have read it in English first, but how could I know I was so bad at German? Anyway, after reading it again I even knew what happened! And, oh, how it made me sad. After reading this, I honestly felt mad at humanity. How Gregor Samsa was treated broke my heart. It is not a merry story at all. It is a dreadful story, although well-written and well-thought. In all honesty, despite having a postcard of him on my door, Kafka scares me a bit. But he is so awesome. Even though he didn’t seem to have such an amazingly fun life. Which might reflect a bit on the stuff he writes. Is there ever a happy ending? I think not. That’s Kafka for you.

The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde
Robert Louis Stevenson
94 p.

For Decades ‘08.

Giunti Gruppo Editoriale, 2001.
(first published by Longmans, Green & Co 1886.)

Back cover blurb:

It was the cures of mankind… that in the agonised womb of consciousness, these polar twins should be continuously struggling.

I just must say that this edition is so weird. It was bought in Italy, it’s published by an Italian publisher, but still it’s in English and all! It’s crazy. Because of this, I have been completely unable to find the cover. It’s not much to see, really. It’s a picture by Toulouse-Lautrec, which is a little weird, I think.

Me being a human being, I more or less knew what this novella is about. What did not know was the perspective it was told. It is told indirectly, without any real showdown with Jekyll and Hyde. And that was amazing. I didn’t have a clue that it was told in that way. I’ve previously seen the musical version of this story, and perhaps some TV-version as well (I can’t really remember, I see so many strange things), and there it is told very straight-forward. The novella is completely reliant on the suspense that is built up. You know something is strange, but you can’t really see what it is, until just at the end. I suppose that is an element of gothic fiction. In the musical there was women in it (SHOCKING I KNOW), but in the novella, there’s nothing of a kind. In fact, there are very few characters. There’s the narrator, two of his friends, a butler and Jekyll/Hyde. And possibly some other very small roles, as well. It is impressive what an atmosphere Stevenson builds up with only these few characters.

I read this the evening after finishing Assassin’s Apprentice, and if the Forged scared me, it was nothing against how Mr Hyde terrified me. Right, I am very easily scared, but still! Stevenson is more than a little talented. (read, a lot.)

Den unge Werthers lidanden
(Die Leiden des jungen Werther)
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
101 p.
(in Litteraturens Klassiker 10)

Almquist & Wiksell, 1969
(first published in 1774)

Back cover blurb:

none

My sister is a big fan of this novel. I can in all honesty not see how she can be. This is the most pretentious, stuck-up shit I have ever read (possibly, at least!). It is not the writing style of Goethe that I have issues with (I am, in fact, quite sympathetic to Goethe on account of reading a couple of nice poems written by him, though this might change a little now), but Werther! Out of all pathetic jerks in the work, one would assume it was impossible to be as stuck-up and pathetic as Werther manages to be. Oh, really - he is so awful that a lot of the time I wanted to throw up. Even when he was happy he complained! Also, some of the opinions he held (such as “suicide is as inevitable as dying from a fever”) made me see red.

I am not going to write anything else, or I will start sputtering all sorts of rude words. And it’s not worth that.