Frankenstein, Volume Two, Chapters Five to Seven

In which the creature edumacates himself with incredibly convenient books, relates the unnecessary backstory of his cottagers, reveals himself to them and is disappointed; and in which the narrator assures you that that does indeed span three whole chapters.



Well, it turns out that our chewy nougat center has, I don't know, a thin ribbon of caramel or something running through it, in the form of the cottager's completely superfluous and interminable backstory. Bah. We dug down four levels deep into this nested narrative, now we claw our way back up. First, though, our next cover! This edition was published sometime in the 1990s by Holt, Rinehart and Wilson.

Aww, sad monster.

Mostly literary notes, and a lot of them, after the jump!

Frankenstein, Volume One, Chapters Five and Six

In which Victor returns to health, letters arrive from loved ones, Elizabeth expounds at length on the history of a person whom Victor really already knows, tragedy strikes, and Victor figures it's probably his fault but eh, it'll probably end up working out this time, right? And in which the narrator assures you that he, too, will not stay dead.



Lookit that, we're back! This was actually recorded in part over a month ago, but only just completed last night (in case the sound between the two chapters sounds different or anything. Unfortunately, I appear to have, uh, misplaced my notes for Chapter 5, and my computer just ate my notes for Chapter 6, so I'm gonna have to go back through and listen to find out what notes are needed and where. I'll post 'em up here soon as I can!

In the meantime, here's today's cover, from a 1963 edition from Airmont Classics.Boy, this is a good one! I love that we've got Victor being all broody amongst his laboratory equipment that is also a graveyard, with the subtle grim specter of the creature's (Karloff-inspired) face looming in the background. This is also a great example of stock lab equipment in art. Want to show people your character is a "scientist"? Put some colored liquid into some flasks -- round-bottom and Erlenmeyer are especially popular, though I'm surprised there aren't any retorts there -- a smoking crucible over some kind of a burner, probably, and a mortar and pestle and boom! Science!


If you would like to read along, the text can be found at Project Gutenberg. No reading ahead, though!

The Marvelous Land of Oz, Chapters One to Three

In which a young boy makes a pumpkin-headed man to scare his wicked guardian and is surprised what she does with him, following which he runs away to escape her somewhat harsh punishment; and in which our narrator goes on at rather extreme length before we even get to the story.



The Marvelous Land of Oz was published in 1904, four years after The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, and two years after Baum's highly successful stage version of the latter. As such, there are definitely elements of this book that seem to be written with an eye towards the stage. The book is notable among Baum's fourteen original Oz books as one of the few to have a male protagonist, and the only one not to feature Dorothy at all.

This book is also notable for bringing on board a new illustrator. Apparently, Baum and W. W. Denslow, the illustrator of the original, argued over royalties to that 1902 stage version. Denslow had designed the sets and costumes and was co-holder of the copyright of the book, and thus thought he deserved an equal share with Baum and the music composer. Baum disagreed and decided not to work with him again. Don't feel too bad for Denslow, though. The royalties he did receive from the book and the musical were enough for him to purchase an island in Bermuda and declare himself King Denslow I. (Though it seems he sold it again by 1908. So much for the dynasty.)

Thus, instead of Denslow, this book is illustrated by John R. Neill, who would go on to illustrate more than forty different Oz books, including all of the rest of the "Famous Forty" canonical Oz books, minus four that came out after his death in 1943 but including three that he wrote himself. Neill's style rather obviously became the "definitive" style that at least influenced all other Oz illustrators who followed, if they didn't mimic him outright.

Now, while Denslow's illustrations were all in color (even if it was usually only one or two colors), Neill's illustrations here are mostly line drawings, with sixteen full-color plates throughout. The quantity of illustrations, though, remains quite large. AS such, much with the last book, I won't be time-tagging them, as they come a little too thick and fast.

The color plates here come from Old Book Art, the full-page black and white illustrations come from the facsimile of the first edition at OpenLibrary.org, and the remaining line drawings are all from Classics Illustrated (but no, not that Classics Illustrated.) And since this is the first installment, I've included the preliminary illustrations:

Above is the copyright page, showing play posters being pasted up, presumably as a nod to the stage version.

See more after the jump!

Sense and Sensibility, Volume the Second, Chapter Nine

In which much is revealed by Colonel Eeyore, chiefly pertaining to his personal history, and we discover the enormity of Willoughby's perfidy; and in which the narrator insists that yes, he's using those words correctly.



Wow, well THAT was a shocker of a chapter, wasn't it? With the forced marriages, the infidelity, the multiple illegitimate children, the wasting death, etcetera? Dang, no wonder Colonel Brandon's so Droopy-Dog all the time.

Some short notes: at 13:43, Colonel Brandon says that he randomly found his lost love in a "spunging house," spelled more modernly as "sponging house." It wasn't exactly debtor's prison, but it wasn't exactly not debtor's prison either. Basically, it was a debtor's last chance to pay up -- squeezed out like a sponge, get it? -- while being confined to the house of, usually, so government official who took a cut. A charming place, by the sound of it.

Next, at 21:51, the good Colonel states that, after finding out what had occurred between him and Brandon's ward, he met Willoughby by appointment. As might be inferred from the text, he means that they met for a duel, at which they are both apparently terrible as no one is even wounded. BORING.

Sadly, no illustrations for this turning-point chapter, of the spunging house or otherwise, so here's another fun cover. For... certain values of "fun."

I mean, my but this is a cheerless cover. It's from a 2001 edition published by Broadview Press, an independent academic publisher, that actually sounds kinda cool and included some neat-sounding stuff in this edition (well, neat-sounding to people like me, I guess.) It's just... I mean, kudos for standing out from the seething crowd of other covers featuring two young women in pretty, vaguely-Regency-era-if-you-don't-know-much-about-fashion-history-which-I-don't-so-maybe-it-is-actually-accurate dresses, but it sure makes this book look somber. Jane Austen does tackle some heavy themes, and does some incredibly trenchant social satire, but her books are really anything but dour, especially this one. I guess maybe they don't want anything intended for an academic setting to look too... well, fun.

Aesthetics aside, I wonder about the image's source. It's not listed on the website that I saw, but it certainly appears to be a vintage 1800s photograph of some kind. Now, it obviously can't be from the time Austen was writing as that predated photography, but it's always possible they were in period costume (you know, 1870's ladies dressed in 1811's clothes, or something.) Maybe someone who actually knows something about fashion history can enlighten me: is this even remotely the right time period for the story?

These are the sorts of things that intrigue and bother me.


If you would like to read along, the text can be found at Project Gutenberg, and high-res copies of the Thompson illustrations can be found in the British Library's Flickr stream. No reading ahead, though!

Anne of Green Gables, Chapters Three to Five

In which it is Marilla's turn to be surprised, Anne discovers that she is not a boy, Matthew states an opinion, and Marilla learns of Anne's past.



And now we get to the first of the illustrations in the book, portraying Anne's first meeting with Marilla, and capturing one of the many, many moments this book will contain where I will attempt to not giggle when reading the word "ejaculated."

0:52 - "Matthew Cuthbert, who's that?" Marilla does not beat around the bush.

If you would like to read along, the text can be found at Project Gutenberg. No reading ahead, though!