#7 - A Man For All Seasons

This post and the following two (Heart of Darkness and One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest) are being backdated considerably. I hemmed and hawed over whether or not these should be included on the list. I had included Duddy Kravitz from last year's English, so it seemed like I should. But I put it aside and let it coast, until I returned to the master list and realized that Heart of Darkness was on the list at number 42. This meant that if I were to ignore English books, I would have a dilemna. So the decision became to write the posts for all three of the English class books. I am still slogging through the Iliad, however the busiest time of the year (double play) and the rhyming-translated-19th-century-English-from-Latin-from-Greek is making it awfully hard.

Now, A Man For All Seasons, by Thomas Bolt. This play came along at the perfect time in my high school career. In History, we were discussing the Wars of the Roses, and Henry VIII. In Politics we were covering the basics of law created by Henry VIII, and in English we had AMFAS. Magically, all of my high school courses convened to teach me about the same time period at the same time, giving me a 360 degree perspective. It really was a neat effect. I only wish that we could have somehow had math pertain to the subject as well.

AMFAS was interesting in that it was a historical play. The characters were real, the situations were real. What was created was the image of Sir Thomas More as this hero of his own convictions, not kowtowing to the will of the land. It led to a caricaturing effect on all of the people, which lent itself to the play's heavy-handed messages. It thrived off of its simplicity. Land and water imagery was practically labelled and highlighted throughout, and each of the characters' intentions were cut and dried. It was a very "writable" work from an essay perspective, which was both nice and a little patronizing. You were smacked about the head with the thesis, instead of having it shown to you.

The story itself was thrilling. It was a case of the truth being stranger than fiction, as the royal intrigue of the Tudor dynasty reached dizzying heights, then came crashing down about More's ears. Cromwell played the quintessential villain, Roper played the world's first religious extremist, and Henry VII played a spoiled brat. The characters were almost commedia dell'arte in their simplicity, giving them a bold and pure edge. You knew who they were, and it allowed them to resonate all the better.

Writing an essay on this was child's play. If you chose to write on imagery, there need not be any memorization. Simply open the book to any page, and there will be a mention of it somewhere. Points must be given to Bolt for having the dedication to follow through on his extended metaphor for that long. If you chose instead to discuss character, I personally found that Roper was fantastic. His fanaticism and youthful exuberance for violence was remarkably familiar. It reminded me of stories of young teenagers being convinced of the powers of a cult or sect. He had that kind of glint in his eyes when you read his lines, and it was frightening to see.

Overall, this was a nice, simple book that still managed to carry strong opinions on topics such as conscience and personal conviction. I would love to see it on stage one day.

7/10

#6 - Jane Eyre

Reader, do you know how insufferable it is to have an author who talks to you and coddles you as if you were an infantile yet eloquent peasant? I do, after having my reading darkened by my first experience with the Bronte family (No, I am not going to find the umlauted e, thank you for whining). Upon the reveal of my list to friends and family, the most common response was (after "This is stupid", of course) "Ooohh, Jane Eyre! I LOVE that book!" from a chorus of girls. This is because of what Jane Eyre represents. Coming in as the high water-mark of any female author on the list, it is a book that creates, defines, and canonizes chick lit and any versions of it hereafter. The back cover reads "the book heralded a new kind of heroine - one whose virtuous integrity, keen intellect and tireless perserverance broke through class barriers to win equal stature with the man she loved."

Everything up until this point leading me to fear and loathe this book, I looked forward to seeing how terrifying it truly was. What was there shocked me. For while there was the strong-willed woman asserting her role in an unjust society...she didn't, really. I mean, she took control of her own destiny, but then she relinquished it, then took control again, then repeated it time and again. She was less trying to burn her bra and try to vote then she was simply...bored. Filled with ennui in her various locations, she gets up and pushes on in fits of restlessness. She almost becomes a missionary in India in order to soothe this wild roaming instinct. Viewed from this perspective, some of her previous struggles take on a much more approachable light.

The romance of the story is really quite interesting. While the angst was horribly portrayed (tears are used as a 4-year old would use syrup on pancakes), the "Awww" moments are actually quite wonderful. The repartee, clearly MEANT to be the highlight due to the characters' personas, lives up to its expectations. Their banter is fierce, harsh, and the victories for each can be celebrated and enjoyed. There is, however, an interesting part missing. Nowhere in this book, anywhere at all, is the existence of any mention of sex. Understandably there would be less discussion based on the time period, but there is absolutely zero. No "take your new bride to bed, eh?" no misbehaving servants to provide contrast. There are embraces and kisses, at the most extreme. This is not to say we cannot speculate about Miss Eyre's preferences however: "For caresses, too, I now got grimaces; for a pressure of the hand, a pinch on the arm; for a kiss on the cheek, a severe tweak of the ear. It was all right, at this moment I decidedly preferred these fierce favours to anything more tender." As I read this, I was halted. I thought about this in connection with other quotes that had given me pause, and came to the same conclusion. Jane Eyre likes it rough. She is a tease who likes to be taken control of out of passion. Now, I don't know what those Bronte sisters talked about at the breakfast table after reading that part, but it must have been a long moment for Charlotte.

There were some assorted highlights and lowlights throughout. The section of Jane starving for three days in the wilderness was choppy and ill-written. However, the early period of her living at Morton House is a nice cheery interlude. The penultimate chapter angered me greatly. It was enough to know that she did come back, but they go into intricate detail exactly why and who was dependant on who and how much pity was involved, and it took all of the glory out of the return, and almost dampened the happy ending. Also, a new find in any of my books from this era, etcetera was presented as &c., which amused me to no end. In the end, read as it is meant to be read, I don't believe it succeeds. However, there are aspects and portions (the second half beats the first in my opinion) that do shine.

6/10 - I GUESS it was good...for a woman. ;)