BOOK REVIEW: A Vindication of the Rights of Woman by Mary Wollstonecraft

Mary Wollstonecraft was an immensely influential British political philosopher in the late eighteenth century. An advocate for women’s rights, her best known work is the treatise: A Vindication of the Rights of Woman.

I’ve seen Wollstonecraft and her book referred to time and again in novels and nonfiction histories of the time period and, each time, I’ve thought: I should read that Rights of Woman book. Eventually, I bought it and set it on my shelf. Finally, I chose it as both my nonfiction back to the classics choice AND one of my TBR challenges. Since I am woefully behind on both challenges with June drawing to a close, I pulled out the book.

I made it through to the end. In all honesty, I have to admit I skimmed a great deal of it. I tried to read it, but my eyes kept glossing over. I even fell asleep a couple of times. There are interesting passages, but the interesting parts are buried under mounds of verbiage. She repeats herself, wanders off on tangents, gives gossipy examples. . .this may be the most boring book I have ever tried to read.

Part of the problem is that it is dated. I can appreciate the fact that it was revolutionary in its day. Wollstonecraft was a woman far ahead of her time. The fact that she wanted equality for women, at least educational equality–even co-ed elementary school with mixing of social classes!–shows how progressive she was. And while the points she makes seem painfully obvious now, I do recognize that they are not universally obvious even in the twenty-first century. Women still have not achieved even basic human rights in some parts of the world. But that doesn’t make the book any easier to slog through.

The introduction to my Folio edition (introduction by Claire Tomalin) states: "The Vindication is a book without any logical structure: it is more in the nature of an extravaganza. What it lacks in method it makes up for in élan, and it is better to dip into than to read through at a sitting." I think I should have heeded the warning. There are lots of gems in here, things that made me nod in agreement. But the bits that could hold my attention were few and far between. Most of the time I was thinking: Ugh. I am really not a political philosopher.

And that, I think, is my real problem with A Vindication of the Rights of Woman. I’m not a philosopher. I had the feeling she could have put her main points on 4 or 5 powerpoint slides and swayed me with her argument in about 5 minutes. Her argument is strong and convincing but there isn’t really all that much to it. (Meaning she seems to be stating the obvious–so I guess in a way, it’s horrifying that she wasn’t.) But I really didn’t need 270 rambling pages of her beating her points to a pulp.

At any rate, I’m counting this for my nonfiction back to the classics challenge (hosted by Sarah Reads Too Much) and the TBR Pile Challenge (hosted by Roof Beam Reader.)

 

BOOK REVIEW: How to Create the Perfect Wife. Britain's Most Ineligible Bachelor and His Enlightened Quest to Train the Ideal Mate by Wendy Moore

I’ve been on a strange non-fiction binge lately. I have no idea why. My most recent read is How to Create the Perfect Wife. Britain’s Most Ineligible Bachelor and His Enlightened Quest to Train the Ideal Mate by Wendy Moore. I don’t remember where I saw this one mentioned, but the description grabbed me. I checked my library’s catalogue and there it was, so I added it to my Library Challenge list (hosted by Book Dragon’s Lair.)

How to Create the Perfect Wife is a remarkably detailed, thoroughly researched recounting of a true-life Pygmalion-like undertaking that is as awful as a true-life version would naturally be. In the second half of the eighteenth century, a bizarre young man named Thomas Day, independently wealthy, educated, yet arrogant and lacking in social graces, finds himself rejected by one woman after another. (Reading the descriptions of his social interactions, it’s difficult to imagine why any woman would have allowed him to reach the courting or engagement stage, but a few actually did.) Convinced that the fault does not lie with himself, he decides that women are ruined by their upbringing. If he wants to find the perfect woman, he will have to create her himself. Cherry-picking Rousseau’s ideas on enlightened education, using Emile as a rough guide, Day thinks that if he can catch a girl before society ruins her, he can mold her to suit him properly.

Day’s ideal woman must be attractive and intelligent. She should be able to carry on conversations about all manner of things, but she will always defer to his superior judgment. She must be physically hardy, hard-working, and submissive. His intention is to move away to a secluded cottage somewhere, away from society, away from servants, to live under primitive conditions, and have his wife cater to his every whim.

Since no woman in her right mind would agree to such a scheme, Day cooks up a plan. He manages to remove two female orphans, aged eleven and twelve, from a Foundling Hospital. Although he tells the hospital that he would be taking them to a married friend to be apprenticed as housemaids, he lied. (Single men were not allowed to adopt young girls.) He secrets the two girls away and begins an education program intended to groom them as perfect future brides. Whichever one succeeds best, he will marry.

The plan seems destined to fail, particularly as Moore details the methods Day uses: dripping hot wax on the girl, sticking her with pins, firing a pistol into her skirts. What makes the story particularly interesting is that Day is unable to keep his project hidden. Eventually, he chooses one girl, Sabrina, to keep and sends the other on her way. Sabrina is introduced to her -for lack of a better word- "benefactor’s" friends. They become aware of what he is doing. They are interested and wary. They gossip. But no one does anything to rescue Sabrina, not even when they hear about the sadistic trials he puts her through.

The book also gives details about the personal lives of the people surrounding Day and Sabrina. It was an odd crew all around. And we follow them all through to the end of their days. It’s impressive that Wendy Moore tracks down so much information on so many people.

Overall, it’s an interesting, readable account of an eighteenth century sociopath and the cruel experiment he performed on a vulnerable young girl. Some of the narrative became a little repetitive but the material is well-organized and Moore covers a lot of ground.

If you like quirky social history, this is a well-written and bizarre tale.

BOOK REVIEW: Mary and Lou and Rhoda and Ted and All the Brilliant Minds Who Made the Mary Tyler Moore Show a Classic by Jennifer Keishin Armstrong

I knew, from quite a young age, what I wanted to be when I grew up: a doctor. But there was something else to consider–there was who I wanted to be. Deeply embedded in my psyche, a role model lurked. I may not even have been aware of how influential this person was, but I know I’m not the only woman of my generation to feel this way.

I wanted to be Mary Richards.

I grew up watching the Mary Tyler Moore Show. It’s out on DVD now and I’m a little afraid to watch it because I suspect I’ll find it dated. I’m afraid that it won’t be what I remember. I’d hate to tarnish the image of a hero from my past.

I bring this up because I read a recent review in our paper of the book Mary and Lou and Rhoda and Ted and all the Brilliant Minds Who Made the Mary Tyler Moore Show a Classic by Jennifer Keishin Armstrong. (That title is way too long.) Overwhelmed by nostalgia and a strong curiosity, I bought the book. And read it in a couple of sittings.

For someone who doesn’t even watch TV anymore, reading a history-of-television book is a strange undertaking. But this book is so much more than a TV fan book. Armstrong puts the making of the Mary Tyler Moore Show into the context of its time. It’s social history. She tells a fascinating story of the people behind the scenes, the writers, producers, the woman in charge of casting. The show was groundbreaking not only in its portrayal of women, but in its actual employment of women. Eager to get the details right, the producers hired female writers in unheard-of numbers. The show reflected society and pushed boundaries for women.

Readers meet each of the cast members when they were still little-known actors. (Mary Tyler Moore was well-known, but her career had taken a nosedive after The Dick Van Dyke Show.) Armstrong shows the struggles the creative team had in convincing the network to get behind the show and how close it came to being killed by being put into an unwatchable time slot. Finally, the book reassured me that the warmth displayed on-screen was real. The caring in Mary’s on-screen life was mirrored by an off-screen environment of friendship and mutual striving for excellence.

Mary and Lou and Rhoda and Ted is an interesting look at seventies television and at seventies society. But I mostly enjoyed the book for the insight it gave me into why, even after all these years, I’m still a little awed by Mary Richards.

ESCAPE TO THE PAST WITH: The Berlin Boxing Club by Robert Sharenow

The Berlin Boxing Club by Robert Sharenow has been a "should read" for me for awhile now. It’s YA historical fiction and it has been receiving great reviews. So every time I hear it mentioned (or see it mentioned) in passing, I think: I should read that. Holding me back has been the pile of books I already have decided to read and, I have to admit, the subject matter. The Berlin Boxing Club focuses on a young Jewish boy growing up in Nazi Germany, who finds strength and inspiration, as long as he is able, from boxing.

Of course, it’s a thrilling setting and an emotionally gripping coming-of-age story addressing multiple issues. But boxing? Meh. Also, in the past couple years I’ve read more WWII-era fiction than I’m accustomed to reading, and it is always difficult to get through the horror of Nazi Germany–the insidious creep of evil and reign of terror. Every Man Dies Alone by Hans Fallada is a must-read that epitomizes this. These books are crucially important and yet so painful to read.

All that aside, I could no longer ignore the fact that I really SHOULD READ The Berlin Boxing Club. So, using the library challenge (hosted by Book Dragon's Lair) for added incentive, I borrowed the book and settled in.

Karl Stern is a fourteen-year-old Jewish boy whose nondescript physical appearance and atheist parents leave him identifying more with his non-Jewish classmates than with the few Jewish boys who have been singled out as targets. When not with his family, Karl can "pass" for non-Jewish, as long as he is not seen by anyone who knows him. He imagines that he is getting away with pretending in school, until the day three older boys, members of a National Socialist club, catch up to him after school and beat him up. From then on, things go downhill for Karl, just as they are going downhill for Jews throughout Berlin.

The one bright light for Karl is boxing. Karl’s father, who owns a fast-failing art gallery, is friends with Max Schmeling, a German (and international) boxing champion. In exchange for a painting Max wants, boxing lessons for Karl are arranged. Karl begins a fitness regimen and then training at the Berlin Boxing Club. This focus for his energy, this ray of hopefulness, becomes a lifeline as the world dissolves around Karl and his family in Hitler’s Berlin.

This is the first book I remember reading that deals specifically with an adolescent boy in Nazi Germany. It is a wonderful book about courage in the face of adversity. It is also a wonderful book about family. Karl’s voice and his journey will keep you hooked throughout the story and the last few chapters in particular race along to the powerful conclusion. It's not just a book for YA boys, but something that all YA and adults can appreciate.

This is my 14th book for the historical fiction challenge hosted by Historical Tapestry.

BOOK BLOGGER HOP: JUNE 7-13

It’s been a long time since I’ve taken part in the book blogger hop, now hosted by Ramblings of a Coffee Addicted Writer.





 For some reason, my Fridays are crazier than they used to be and I’ve fallen out of the habit. But I miss the weekly opportunity to explore new blogs and visit some favorites. So I’m back. Luckily, this week’s prompt, supplied by Tanya at GirlXOXO, is a question I can answer pretty easily.

　

What is your favorite trilogy (series)?

　

My answer: There are so many series that I’ve read and loved. In fact, I find it very difficult to start a series and not finish it. But the one that made the biggest impression on me was Dorothy Dunnett’s Lymond Chronicles.

Any other Dunnett fans out there?
How would you answer the question--what series should I be looking for next?
Join in the hop and see what other bloggers are answering!

BOOK REVIEW: Catherine the Great. Portrait of a Woman by Robert K. Massie

Our next historical fiction/history book club meeting is coming up this weekend, and the book we read was The Winter Palace by Eva Stachniak. Although I enjoyed the novel, it wasn’t quite the "novel of Catherine the Great" that I expected based on the subtitle. I’d hoped to be exposed to more of the reign of the extraordinary Russian empress.

And so, because I did want to learn about Catherine the Great and eighteenth century Russia, I decided to read Robert Massie’s biography: Catherine the Great. Portrait of a Woman. (Massie is a Pulitzer Prize-winning biographer of Peter the Great and Nicholas and Alexandra, and this biography has also been a bestseller, so I expected good things.) I borrowed it from my local library in order to add it to my library challenge (hosted by Book Dragon’s Lair.)

Catherine the Great is a straightforward, very readable biography. Massie is fortunate to have such a fascinating character as a centerpiece and he does a wonderful job synthesizing a wealth of material. He begins with Catherine’s childhood (as does The Winter Palace) when she arrives in Russia as Sophia, a fifteen-year-old German princess, Empress Elizabeth’s favored choice as bride for Grand Duke Peter. Much of the same material is covered as in the novel, although with different emphasis. There is extensive exploration of Russian politics and international relations, setting the stage for Catherine’s turn as empress.

Eventually, Elizabeth dies, Peter takes up the reins of government, and then Catherine, with the help of the army (and her lover), stages a coup. This is where Catherine’s genius truly becomes evident. The challenges she faced were enormous. In a more or less chronological march, Massie gives a well-organized, thorough account of Catherine’s attempted reforms, her wars, her varied political alliances, her friendships with philosophers, her patronage of the arts, her attempts to modernize and upgrade the health and education of the populace as well as addressing those rumors about Catherine’s scandalous personal life. Yes, Catherine the Great took a succession of young men as "favorites," the male equivalent of mistresses. But no one at court saw anything scandalous about it at the time.

The book is long but the material is consistently interesting. Near the end, Massie digresses a bit to give what seemed to be more detail than was needed on the French Revolution. It was a major event and it did horrify Catherine and influence her behavior, but coming at the end of the book, when things were otherwise wrapping up, I found myself wondering why we were suddenly on such a lengthy journey to France. (Still interesting, just a bit off track.)

Overall, if you’re interested in Catherine the Great, this excellent biography puts her life in historical context and demonstrates what a truly remarkable woman she was.

ESCAPE TO THE PAST WITH: A Little Folly by Jude Morgan

Finally! I’ve read a book by Jude Morgan. Over the years, I’ve read many reviews of several of his books and the reviews are uniformly glowing. (Not only that, but I have his name slightly mixed up in my head with that of the marvelous Jude Watson.) Confident that I would love Morgan’s writing, I ran out and bought Passion, then let it sit on my shelf. Undaunted, I bought A Taste of Sorrow when it came out. But I haven’t yet managed to read it. Although determined to be a fan, a quick look at the list of Morgan’s bibliography shows me how terribly far behind I’m falling. And then I read a review for A Little Folly.

Although published in 2010, the first US edition came out in March 2013, so it’s new-ish. A Regency  romance, A Little Folly is compared to the works of Jane Austen and Georgette Heyer—compelling recommendations indeed! But rather than add it to my shelf of unread books, I borrowed it from the library and cracked it open. It is everything I hoped. Hurray! Now, I should get busy with those others.

The heroine of this charming tale is Louisa Carnell. Along with her brother, Valentine, Louisa has been brought up in a country estate by an overbearing, domineering father (mother long dead), whose nastiness would have crushed the life out of weaker beings. The steadfast mutual support of the siblings may have been the one thing that kept them going, that and the cautiously devoted friendship of a neighbor, Mr. James Tresilian.

One day, in an excess of bad temper, the father dies. After a period of confused mourning, Louisa and Valentine realize they are free to begin to live. They can make their own decisions. They don’t have to fear their father anymore. And so, with baby steps at first, they begin.

Louisa’s first major decision is that she will not marry the man her father has chosen for her, Mr. Pearce Lynley, who is every bit as controlling as her father had been, as soon as she can figure out how to make the insufferably proud man understand that she means what she says.

Shortly, they receive visitors from London, their own dear cousins (on their mother’s side) Tom and Sophie–as well as a guest of Sophie’s, Lady Harriet Eversholt. Harriet has made a disastrous marriage and is suffering the consequences. After a delightful spell of getting to know one another, the whole party removes to London for the end of the season and the celebration of Napoleon’s defeat. It is in London where the heady freedom the young Carnells are enjoying turns to folly. Valentine is smitten with the married Lady Harriet. Louisa is discovering the small tyranny of being a desirable heiress who might make her own choice and who has men to choose from–not that she is comfortable with power over men, only pleased that they do not have power over her–or something like that.

In this Austen-esque comedy-of-manners, there are aptly drawn characters giving us lovely insights into human foibles and a couple of villains to make the conflict threatening enough. Wit abounds–both in the narration and in the bantering of the characters, particularly that of Mr. Tresilian and Louisa. Mr. Lynley does not go away as Louisa bids him to do, and, moreover, he has a younger brother, a wounded war hero, the black sheep of the family. There is enough of convention in this type of book that a particular romantic outcome is expected; however, Morgan plays with convention by keeping a couple of the male leads in the running long enough to confuse expectations.

If you find yourself in the mood for a well-written, thoughtful Regency-era novel, you won’t go wrong with A Little Folly.

As a library book, this fits with the Library Books Reading Challenge hosted by Book Dragons Lair. And, it is my 13^th of 25 books for the Historical Fiction Challenge hosted by Historical Tapestry.