Revisiting Books... The Hours by Michael Cunningham

The Hours is probably one of the first books I read that made me really really feel- I guess up until whatever age I was when I read it (don't ask me when it was, I don't have a clue!) I'd always always loved reading, but it had been mostly limited to children's and teen books (Babysitters Club and Sweet Valley High foremost among them) that were really easy to read and really enjoyable, but in their simplicity offered little in the way of real rewards. The Hours was something else- just amazing writing, easier to read than I thought it would be, but also brilliantly complex. It has remained one of my favourite books since I first read it, and that was a long time ago now.

So, obviously, it's practically impossible for me to talk about.

I know. It's ridiculous, but I always get like this. When I was obsessed with Nirvana, it was really difficult to talk about with anybody, because the words I could say about them didn't come anywhere near to expressing the way they made me feel. It's only now that I can look back on it a bit and go 'damn, I really loved them you know?!' Spiritual awakening and all. Anyway, I wouldn't say I'm obsessed with The Hours, but I just like it so much that it's difficult to describe just exactly what I like about it- if I just say 'I like the 'essence' of The Hours', y'all are just going to turn away, as you should, and run to far less hippytastic blogs. As well you should (I am a total hippy though, just so you know. Seriously.) So what can I say instead?

Well, let me tell you about my experience reading it this time around. I read it for the 24 hour readathon (so... I write posts really quickly after I read stuff) and I do believe it's the first time I've read it all at once. It was nice, although it obviously felt a little bit rushed, as is the nature of readathon reading. But here's a new thing I noticed about it- it has some really clear parallels to Angels in America (loving life in spite of the awful things that happen in it, AIDs, stuff like that). Which makes sense, since I LOVE both books (well, play and book... whatever) and obviously subconsciously my love of The Hours meant that I was destined to love Angels in America. So it was good to know that I'm at least consistent in the literature that kind of changes my life, and that Cunningham obviously admires Angels in America as much as I do.

Much about The Hours is pretty original though. I love the entire structure of taking three women, one of whom is a famous author, one a bored housewife and dedicated reader, and one who is essentially a homage to Mrs Dalloway (side note: I read Mrs Dalloway purely as a supplementary text to The Hours. I like The Hours a lot more, blasphemous as it is to say...) and showing a day in their lives. Obviously it's not just any day, and for all three it represents a turning point in some way- it's not necessarily the most significant day of their whole lives, but I think for all three, it has some effect on the way that they end up.

And it's just wonderfully written, and everything about it is the best, and even though I fear that it's another one of those things I like that other people might find pretentious (American Beauty, I'm looking at you) I just really couldn't care less. Because it's beautiful. And so, because I apparently can't talk about it in any coherant way, here are some words from it that I especially like. They can probably speak for it better than I can anyway.

"Still, she loves the world for being rude and indestructible, and she knows other people must love it too, poor as well as rich, though no one speaks specifically of the reasons. Why else do we struggle to go on living, no matter how compromised, no matter how harmed?"

"She, Laura, likes to imagine... that she has a touch of brilliance herself, just a hint of it, though she knows most people probably walk around with similar hopeful suspicions curled up like tiny fists inside them, never divulged."

"She does not want, not at all, to be the strange woman, the pathetic creature, full of quirks and rages, solitary, sulking, tolerated but not loved." 

"When she thought of someone... losing her mind, she'd imagined shrieks and wails, hallucinations, but at that moment it had seemed clear that there was another way, far quieter; a way that was numb and hopeless, flat, so much so that an emotion as strong as sorrow would have been a relief." 

"There's just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we've ever imagined, though everyone but children (and perhaps even they) knows these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult. Still, we cherish the city, the morning; we hope, more than anything, for more. Heaven only knows why we love it so." 

Top Ten Tuesday

Well! I haven't done this for a few weeks, but I've become physically unable to read past an amazing quote without writing it down, so this is the perfect list for me. I should add that this affliction is one I've only had for about a year and a half, so there are probably a lot more amazing quotes that I like that I just haven't written down yet, but these are my favourites of the moment. Some of these are kind of long, so sorry about that, but you're surely here cause you like to read, yes? Good! Let's begin.

Top 10 Favourite Quotes From Books


1. "'My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath- a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff- he's always, always in my mind- not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself- but, as my own being." Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte


2. "But still. Still.
     Bless me anyway. I want more life. I can't help myself, I do.
     I've lived through such terrible times, and there are people who've lived through much much worse, but... you see them living anyway. When they're more spirit than body, more sores than skin, when they're burned and in agony, when flies lay eggs in the corners of the eyes of their children, they live. Death usually has to take life away. I don't know if that's just the animal, I don't know if it's not braver to die. But I recognise the habit. The addiction to being alive. We live past hope. If I can find hope anywhere, that's it, that's the best I can do. It's so much not enough, so inadequate... But bless me anyway. I want more life." Angels in America, Part II by Tony Kushner


3. "I no longer want to be anything except who I am- who what am I? My answer: I am the sum total of everything that went before me, of all I have been seen done, of everything done-to-me. I am everyone everything whose being-in-the-world affected was affected by mine. I am anything that happens after I've gone which would not have happened if I had not come. Nor am I particularly exceptional in this matter, each 'I', every one of the now-six-hundred-million-plus of us, contains a similar multitude. I repeat for the last time: to understand me, you'll have to swallow a world." Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie


4. "You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... until you climb into his skin and walk around in it." To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee


5. "The last time of anything has the poignancy of death itself. This that I see now [Francie] thought, to see no more this way. Oh, the last time how clearly you see everything, as though a magnifying light had been turned on it. And you grieve because you hadn't held it tighter when you had it every day." A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith


6. "When Lot's wife looked over her shoulder, she turned into a pillar of salt. Pillars hold things up and salt keeps things clean, but it's a poor exchange for losing your self. People do go back, but they don't survive because two realities are claiming them at the same time... Going back after a long time will make you mad, because the people you left behind do not like to think of you as changed, will treat you as they always did, accuse you of being indifferent, when you are only different." Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson


7. "Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living." Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer


8. "Drive away and try to keep smiling. Get a little rock and roll on the radio and go toward all the life there is with all the courage you can find, and all the belief you can muster. Be true, be brave, Stand.
All the rest is darkness." It by Stephen King


9. "I have now been married ten years. I know what it is to live entirely for and with what I love best on earth. I hold myself supremely blest- blest beyond what language can express; because I am my husband's life as fully as he is mine. No woman was ever nearer her mate than I am: ever more absolutely bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh. I know no weariness of my Edward's society: he knows none of mine, any more than we each do of the pulsation of the heart that beats in our separate bosoms; consequently we are ever together. To be together is for us to be at once as free as in solitude, as gay as in company. We talk, I believe, all day long: to talk to each other is but a more animated and an audible thinking. All my confidence is bestowed on him, all his confidence is devoted to me; we are precisely suited in character- perfect concord is the result." Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte


10. "There's just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we've ever imagined, though everyone but children (and perhaps even they) knows these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult. Still, we cherish the city, the morning; we hope, more than anything, for more. Heaven only knows why we love it so." The Hours by Michael Cunningham


And there you have it folks! As I've said, it's a fairly loose interpretation of my 'favourite' quotes, because there's nary a Jane Austen quote to be seen, and I know there's a beautiful letter in Persuasion that really deserves a mention... but anyway! Another day perhaps!

Sunday Sundries

This has nothing to do with the following post. I just... needed a picture and I love this! EDNA!

If you read just one more thing this week:
Make it this Tumblr showing people reading on the New York Subway. I know how that sounds (sort of boring) but I swear, this photographer's kind of magic- he manages to capture people when they're fully engrossed in their books, and you just know exactly how they're feeling, and that they're not even on the subway anymore, but they're in the middle of The Hunger Games or in a weird parallel Japan (I have major respect for the people reading 1Q84, and anyone reading hardbacks on the subway actually, because that's one big book!). So basically, just stop reading this now and go right over there and bask in its glories. One of my favourites is this girl reading Middlesex, because I'm pretty sure my face was like that for the first, like, 100 pages or so. I hope she carried on reading it, because it's amazing!

Damn, now I really just want to go and read on the NYC subway all the time and be featured on the site. One day, guys, one day.

Anyway. This little life update feels a bit redundant really, because I've basically just spent all week in bed! I haven't felt this ill in a long time, which is why I'm convinced that I've got tonsillitis, whereas my mum just thinks I've got a cold. It's not a cold when everything aches and you just want to die you guys! On the plus side, it has made me catch up with New Girl and Two Broke Girls, and has enabled me to watch a LOT of Hoarders, and I've even started watching Breaking Bad again! So... thanks for making me feel like crap, body?

I did manage to crawl out of bed to go with my mum to collect her wig (actually I wasn't too bad on Monday and Tuesday- Wednesday is when the disease really incubated) and then nip into a few charity shops and pick up a couple of books (can I just say: At Home by Bill Bryson for 50p? Highlight of the week!) and that was like my whole life out of the home this week! Faaairly lame, I realise, but also, ill!

Fun hair news: mum got dad to shave off all the last little bits of hair yesterday afternoon (which I'm a bit miffed about because I wanted to do it!) so it was a bit alarming to see at first, but she's quite a pretty bald person really! I mean, I would say that, but I think it does suit her, which is probably a good thing to know about someone (although I'd rather not know about it at all, thank you very much...) and her wig is lovely too so it's all good really (I mean, not really. But as good as it can be, on the head front!)

OH! Here's my big thing of the week, and sadly it's going to sound kind of lame. Because, well, I bought the Joni Mitchell album Blue the other week, and I literally haven't been able to stop listening to it! And it feels so cliched to be like 'omg Blue is amaaaaaazing!' because I'm thinking everyone knows that by now, but seriously you guys, it's amazing! My personal favourite song is Little Green because it's so lovely and yet so sad and just beautiful, but the whole thing is just... yessssss *bliss*. I mean, I've always liked Joni Mitchell like almost from afar (as in, I liked Big Yellow Taxi and Both Sides Now and California; and the fact that she was a giant hippy) but now I'm just like, in love. Just, thought you should know that. And that I am, in fact, listening to Blue as I write this. Obviously.

Also, I really can't sing Joni Mitchell songs but I still try. Imagine how fun it is living with me at the moment!

So. That was this week, which didn't even really deserve a recap! This week, there's a super fun chemo session on Friday (yay.) but tomorrow I'm going to have an indoor picnic at my friend's house because it's supposed to rain which will actually be fun. Other than that, I don't know- it's supposed to rain allll week, so I suspect I'll be spending a lot of time inside in the house, which as we all know= Hoarders and reading, so not too shabby at all. I've just started reading Night by Elie Wiesel this morning and I suspect I'll finish it before tonight even though it's breaking my heart already. Actually, scratch that, my heart is already broken. Damn Holocaust literature...

Anyway. That was the week, and this will be the next week. How was your week?

Devouring Books: Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood

I need to start this review off by saying the thing that you're not supposed to say- Oryx and Crake is not as good as The Handmaid's Tale, THERE I SAID IT! The thing is though, there are very few books, or indeed things-in-life that are as good as The Handmaid's Tale, so it's not really fair to expect Oryx and Crake to be- but at the same time, I don't think it's that unfair to make the comparison, because they are both dystopian novels by the same author. So basically, all this distinction means is, if you've only got time in your whole life to read one book by each author, read The Handmaid's Tale rather than Oryx and Crake (that is, so far- these are the only two Atwood books I've read, and I've heard wonderful things about The Blind Assassin).

Anyway! So, ignoring the entire first paragraph, Oryx and Crake! I decided to read this because you know when there seem to be times when everyone whose blogs you follow seems to be reading the same book at the same time, only without knowing about it? That's what Oryx and Crake was like for me. And since I owned a copy, and I needed to read another Atwood (because I just kept going 'oh, I LOVE Margaret Atwood!' and then thinking, but do I? Do I really? Because I've only read one of her books, HOW CAN I KNOW?!) I, you know, read it. Obviously. Which is why I'm going to start reviewing it, eventually.

SO. Dystopia, dystopia, everyone's vanity has got the better of them and all that's left are some really creepy fake humans that really freak out the only human character we have, Snowman, formerly Jimmy, and, well, they freak me out too. Oryx and Crake is basically the story of how things got to be the way they are, cutting between the past and the present at a whim to do so. And I have to say- in the beginning, this structure kind of pissed me off, because, well, I'm not very good with suspense, and I was all like 'but hoooow did this happen?' but, since that question was answered eventually, I came to appreciate the structure because it's kind of how Snowman experiences the world now- constantly looking back at a way of life that doesn't exist anymore, and then being brought sharply back into the present.

I should actually have said, Oryx and Crake isn't so much a dystopian novel, as a dystopian dystopian novel. Cause the world that doesn't exist anymore, Jimmy's world, was a nightmare of human obsession with beauty and perfection; and Snowman's world is one where basically all human achievement is gone, and everything's gone back to nature. Choose for yourself which one is worse, I know which I'm going with! I do slightly resent the original dystopia though- I really strongly dislike the kind of 'science has gone too far!!' argument, because, well, having family members with cancer that probably would have killed them not all that long ago, I kind of super appreciate science. Like, a lot. But, then again, putting human cerebral cortex into pigs (or pigoons, see the incredibly creepy one on the cover above!) and growing some weird hybrid plant-chicken? Maybe that kind of is science going too far. And also, ew.

And the thing is, that kind of world isn't really massively far away from our own. As you know, I've taken a mild interest in the way animals are raised for meat, and they really grow chickens to big sizes in almost no time and with very little food, so how long before they splice some genes together and make frankenstein chicken plants? And plastic surgery and fears of aging have become so endemic in our culture that people are willing to pay hundreds of pounds on face creams that promise to reduce lines and wrinkles. Wake up people! The lines and wrinkles won't disappear, and anyway, why would you want them to?!

Sorry. The modern world. Ugh.

Anyway. I did have a few problems with Oryx and Crake. First of all, Jimmy seems to constantly sentimentalise the past, which is fine and a natural reaction to have when you're the only actual human still in existence, but when he actually looks back at his old life, it was kind of crappy- bad parents, really only one friend, sex addiction... Not so hot. It's almost like I want him to either say, 'my past life was awesome, so this is intolerable', or 'well, the past was shit, so this isn't any worse, I guess.' But he is a product of crazy dystopia land, so I guess we can let him off? I also wasn't too keen on the ultimate conclusion, of how the dystopia became a future dystopia. OBViously I'm not going to tell you what happens there, because goodbye whole point of reading the book, but the whole thing felt a bit ridiculous, and not true to characters concerned. Like, really.

On the whole though, Oryx and Crake made me think a lot about modern ideals about our faces and the almost worship of the body over all other faculties; and that's never a bad thing. I think it does fall down somewhat in finding a convincing reason for the whole new world, but overall, I think it's worth a read.  Thoughts?

Devouring TV: Hoarders

My future hoarding endeavours. From an episode of Hoarders I haven't even seen yet, so now I must!

Guys, I'm iiiiilll (imagine I just whined that at you. You're imagining you want to punch me in the face now, aren't you?) I think as we're all aware, the only thing you can do when you're ill is lay weakly in bed, possibly with a not too challenging book (hello Mindy Kaling, you little life saver) and definitely with some kind of crappy internet tv to watch. I mean, I'm not saying that's not what I do EVERY DAY, but it's like compulsory when you're ill.

Enter, Hoarders. Have you seen Hoarders? It's basically a programme where people with a really complex mental illness are paraded in front of tv cameras and made to throw away loads of the crap that they cherish for whatever reason. These people literally have the most wretched lives, and there's always a back story as to why they have to get rid of their stuff (my favourite examples: because otherwise your kids won't be returned to your custody, because you'll go to jail) and yet they're still physically unable to get rid of any of the hundreds of t shirts they own because, and here's a common thing 'one day they might come in handy.' So, their quality of life has gone out of the window while they hold onto all the things they might possibly need for their entire lifetimes.

Obviously what I'm saying here is that it's the greatest show ever. I mean, I've got three seasons of 30 Rock to watch on DVD, and yet I'm choosing Hoarders? Either I'm crazy, or Hoarders is amazing (note: the former is definitely more true. Seriously.)

Hoarders has got me to thinking about my own habits, anyway. I think that, to be honest, someone who lives in a bigger house than my own might come into our house and think that there's maybe someone here who has a tiny hoarding problem. I mean, nothing on the scale of what's on TV, but we have four adults living in a two bedroom house, so naturally there's some overspill, since, like, there's a limit to how many cupboards and shit that we have, but we've got nothing on like anyone who's appeared on Hoarders ever. And as for myself, I actually love throwing things away. I mean, apart from books and DVDs (if you want to talk about being a book hoarder, I'm definitely one of them, but at least I have them for a reason...) I can and often do just get rid of things that I see as kind of superfluous. Or, in other words, I don't really have that many attachments to objects (other than books) and I don't really think that anything is irreplaceable. But that's probably because I'm poor.

Since I'm so good at getting rid of things, and organising the things I do have (I've got A LOT of the things I own under my bed, and once I get rid of the like 10 cushions that are under there I'll have even more room, which nerdishly excites me) I've naturally decided that my career path should be that of a professional organiser. It honestly seems like the perfect job to me: going into other people's houses and putting their things in order and organising like systems for them? It actually sounds amazing. It would obviously get less amazing the more hoardery the client gets, but consider just organising the home of a messy person: bliss! And I'm not even a tidy person! I just, I like everything to have its place, but I don't necessarily always put it there- but knowing that everything does have a home is very pleasing to me. Yeah, I'm weird... But leave me alone cause I'm iiiill!

Anyway. I have found myself getting pretty irritated at the people on Hoarders, because they have homes of their own that they have basically destroyed/that they're not enjoying at all. When you still live with your parents, it's difficult not to think of them as ungrateful for all they have when, if I had my own little house I'd make it so nice! But it's not their fault that I don't have a house, and it's not their fault that this is the way they live- it's literally like they've replaced people with things, and then they start confusing the things with people. Like, I can't get rid of those clothes, they're a part of me. Or, I can't get rid of my junk in the backyard because it keeps me company while I'm here taking care of my alcoholic husband and schizophrenic daughter (an actual Hoarders episode. AND her eldest daughter had breast cancer, so by the end I was pretty much like 'Jesus, if it makes her happy, just let her keep it!') Anyway, they're all very sad situations, and I'd hate to have any of their lives, and yet, in TV terms, it's pure gold. It really is.

Starting next week, the BBC is showing a series on Hoarders in the UK (hopefully it's got a better title than that, I can't remember it right now...) which I expect to be maybe less extreme than the American version, but probably just as depressing. It will be better than the American version in at least one way though- cause, well, why do they do that thing where they repeat every five minutes what the situation is? Is it because no one in the US has a short term memory, or because they're trying to amp up dramatic tension? OR is it because your brains are fried by the constant adverts (seriously, so annoying) that you can barely remember your own names let alone what's happening in Hoarders? Either way (or none of the above, and reality TV is just shitty) there aren't any adverts on the BBC, so constant repeating of the same information shouldn't be necessary. Or so I hope...

Note: I've investigated further, and actually Channel 4 has the series on Hoarders, whereas the BBC thing is a one off documentary. But either way, that makes TWO programmes about hoarders. YES! 

Devouring Books: Watership Down by Richard Adams

So, I wrote this whole post outlining the problems I had with Watership Down as I saw them, and for some reason blogger decided to lose that post. I am very non-happy about this, especially because now it's even longer since I finished Watership Down, and can I remember all the problems I had with it? Is the Pope Jewish? Anyway, I shall try to sort of reconstruct my issues with the bunnies, but it won't be as good as the last post (let's just pretend it was the best post that has ever graced the face of the earth) so... *grumble grumble grumble*

So, everyone knows the basic story of Watership Down, right? There's this one rabbit who has a vision of 'something bad' happening, and his brother is fortunately the leader type, so they and a group of other brave rabbits go away from the safety of the warren into the big wide world and off to watership down. And, of course, since they're bunnies, there are all kinds of obstacles and issues that they face that mean the world is very dangerous for them, and blah blah blah.

So here's a thing. These bunnies are incredibly sophisticated for, you know, bunnies. They have their own system of government (and other warrens have their own systems of government, e.g. the horrible police state just down the road) and beliefs such as 'be nice to other species because you never know when they might come in handy.' They even have a rudimentary form of religion, only Richard Adams says that it's not supposed to be a religion, and I don't care enough to argue for it either way. So anyway, in a lot of ways they're very human. But then, there are also a lot of ways in which they remain really bunnyish, and it gets annoying when they see cars and go 'oh my, what are these beastly contraptions' or whatever, because you'd think that a species that forms its own systems of government would be able to grasp the concept of machinery. And because there's this disparity between the ways they are animals and the ways they are humans, Watership Down never really worked for me- it's difficult to tell whether you should relate to them as humans or animals, and constantly being pulled one way or the other was kind of exhausting, and also, and more crucially, boring.

Plus, it's totally sexist. Don't laugh at me, cause it's true! Here's the thing- all the rabbits that go on the original journey are male, and it doesn't even occur to anyone that some females might be of practical use if they want the warren to last longer than, ooh, a few years (the rabbit's lifespan: just another thing I couldn't be bothered to look up) and that, hello, the female bunnies do the digging, so how are they even going to have anywhere to live?! It was just so irritating to me that the basic message seemed to be that women aren't able to do the journey because they're not tough enough (some of the boys weren't tough enough, there must be girl bunnies who are less weedy than them!) but we'll just go and find some later on and seduce them with offers of hot bunny sex. I know what you're probably thinking- they're bunnies, so it doesn't count. Well, actually, it does because, if you'll see above, they are bunnies with many human attributes. Since the analogy between humans and rabbits has already been made (without much success, I would say, but it's still there) then you have to apply the thinking about girl rabbits to girl people and, well, the females don't come out of it very well. Stupid bunnies.

There was basically one thing that I was sort of impressed by though. I know, shocker! But here it is: before the rabbits get to watership down, they come across another warren where the rabbits are all big and well fed, and they are taken in by them. It's obviously all very sinister because Fiver (the 'vision' rabbit) doesn't think they should be there, and of course he's right. See, here's the warren's secret (SPOILER, but do you really care?): they're essentially allowed to steal lettuces from the garden, as long as they accept the fact that the farmer or whatever has put out a trap for the rabbits, and will take one of them at a time, every so often, in exchange for them living in relative luxury. This is something that the rabbits accept, because it works for them because they haven't been caught by a trap yet. (END SPOILER) This just seemed so so reflective of western society to me- we're willing to accept the bad things that happen to others, so that we can live our lives in relative luxury. This is something that horrifies the brave yet sexist band of bunnies, and really, shouldn't it be something that horrifies us, too?

Just a thought there. Anyway- I think I've remembered the main points from my old post, except I think in that one I was slightly more coy and like 'I wasn't sure why I didn't like it, but I didn't and I think this is why' but really, I don't have the patience for coy today! Basically I'm not a fan of the bunnies who are sort of like humans but aren't so they're just sort of annoying, and I wouldn't read this if you don't want to be pissed off, like, continually. Ok? Good.

The Woman in White: That End Bit

Is it just me, or was that whole end thing... Unexpected? And by unexpected, I obviously mean completely MENTAL and FAR-FETCHED and yet still kind of super duper awesome! Even though this last bit of the book was the shortest of all, I embarrassingly made the most notes for it, which I can only attribute to reading the whole 100 or so pages in one position for a straight 2 hours or whatever, with my notebook right there. Had to be done.

ANYWAY, onto stuff that the people actually care about! But where to even begin?! Oh, wait I know: ANNE WAS MR FAIRLIE'S CHILD!!! Of course she was. I was so happy to be vindicated on that one point though that I actually slapped my own thigh and ended up really hurting myself. But it was a complete "I KNEW it!" moment. While we're on the subject of Anne, I have to add that her mother was really a stone cold bitch, and is probably now my least favourite of all the unsavoury characters of the book- her only concern is about her reputation, which she's determined to preserve without actually doing any of the things that would earn her a good reputation. UGH I really hated her! But anyway, I was glad there was a little bit of an ending to poor Anne's story:

"So the ghostly figure [HAH, GHOSTLY!] which has haunted these pages as it haunted my life, goes down into the impenetrable Gloom. Like a shadow she first came to me, in the loneliness of the night. Like a shadow she passes away, in the loneliness of the dead."

Cheery stuff!

Now I'm going to have a big moan about Walter, so brace yourself if you're still hot for him and his newfound balls. Because oh my GOD, the annoyance over how he treats Laura! And it was especially annoying because Marian was totally complicit in his treating Laura as a child, which made me a bit irritated by Marian of all people too! So here's one bit:

"The necessity of sparing Laura any sudden knowledge of the truth was the first consideration which the latter suggested to me. I wrote at once to Marian... warning her not to let any such thing as a newspaper fall in Laura's way while I was absent."

WHY THE HELL NOT?! Because Walter's presence is going to be better than Marian's in calming her down, Marian being her total rock and comforter and all? Or because she's going to be really upset that her abusive husband that she hated is dead? POOR LAURA CAN'T COPE WITH ANYTHING! And then there was also this:

"When Laura has left us; and when we could speak to one another without restraint, I tried to give some expression to the gratitude and the admiration which filled my heart [to Marian]"

"Oh Marian, thanks for looking after the child for ME, who otherwise you would have no interest in taking care of. Also, let's keep quiet about the death of her husband, even though she obviously finds out about it somehow because I marry her in a few pages, without explaining how that's possible since she doesn't have her identity back yet." Yeah, that annoyed me too. WHY ARE YOU SO ANNOYING, WALTER?!

Anyway, let's just ignore Walter for a sec (even though he's there all the fucking time) and get to the real excitement of this whole end thing which was OMG PESCA'S INVOLVED WITH SOME DODGY POLITICAL THING AND FOSCO'S A SPY! I mean, seriously, did anyone see this coming?! Because when Walter took Pesca to the opera, I was like "Why are you such a moron, Walter? Why would Pesca know Fosco just because they're both Italian? Stupid racist." and then, lo and behold, they did! I mean, I was totally like OMFG THIS IS AMAZING, but at the same time, couldn't Collins have thought of some other way to get the story out of Fosco without that whole (amazing) thing?! Because it definitely wasn't Walter's main concern, and it was just a bit like WOAH what's going on, and, well, DRAMA!

So anyway, then Fosco's narrative was pretty awesome and made me actually sort of love him. Hear me out: He loves Marian! Marian is his one weakness in life! (I've just remembered another annoying thing- where Walter wouldn't let Marian go to the final showdown with Fosco with him. ARGH, so annoying!) He has really amazing taste in women! Anyone who's in love with Marian is a friend of mine, you know? And even though he sort of killed Anne (except that he didn't- but he would have if he had had to) and he put Laura in the asylum (and was all like 'oh, but I was only going to take her identity and not her life!' apparently not realising that for a rich English lady, her identity is her life) I was still a bit like 'oh, ok... I'll let you off!' I was a bit disappointed by the realisation that he didn't have any special power over his wife or anything, and that she was just a bit of a nincompoop for completely sacrificing herself to him, but oh well. So, yeah, I ended up pretty much liking him and his massive ego, so I was actually a little bit upset by reports of his death.

And then they killed off Mr Fairlie too! Like, oh here you go, boring Laura and Walter, there are no interesting characters around anymore to interfere with your boring life together. Yawn. Although, obviously, happy ending and all, yay. I guess. Anyway, I was fairly happy that all the loose ends were tied up, and I can really only think of a couple of questions I still have-
1. Did Mrs Fairlie suspect that Anne was her husband's child, or was she just like 'ooh, what a coincidence!' I kind of hope the former, and that she was so lovely that she just had to take her under her wing.
2. Didn't Laura care that her half sister was dead? Or was that information just kept from her too, because she's too delicate? And how did she even have a child, if she's supposedly so weak?!

Here endeth my thoughts about The Woman in White. *Applauds* Good readalong people, good readalong!