Anne of Avonlea, Chapters Twenty-Nine and Thirty

In which the storybook romance has a happy ending, and Anne prepares for the next phase of her life; and in which your narrator can finally update his "currently reading" status on Goodreads.

Our final cover for this book is from a 2014 edition published by Sourcebooks Fire, the YA imprint of Sourcebooks. It's designed by Canadian illustrator Jacqui Oakley, who posted the in-progress rough designs of this cover on her site (scroll down a bit.) Oakley illustrated covers for the whole series, of course, and says that "as you can imagine, I got pretty good at painting red hair throughout this project. Each cover depicts Anne as she grows up, a specific building related to each story, as well as flowers and animals native to PEI." It's a lovely set of covers all together, and I appreciate the thoughtfulness that obviously went into each, and the fact that while none depict a specific scene from the book, they don't fall into the completely generic trap that so many of the others I've looked at do. A beautiful cover to bring our reading to a close.

But we're not going to get out of this without a whole bunch of notes! Even though this isn't as long as the last two installments we somehow managed to need even more annotation, so look for them behind the jump.

Frankenstein, Volume Three, Chapter Seven

In which Victor vows vengeance, pursues to the perilous pole, is saved by the stranded sailors, and all are awfully angsty.



And that concludes Frankenstein! It took us a while, but we made it. I admit, this last bit especially is a bit of a slog (sorry it's so long, I really just couldn't make another all-Robert-Walton installment), with us returning to the framing story we don't really care about and everyone talking about how miserable they are. What really sort of gets me in this section (as you can probably tell from my interjection at one point) is how both Walton and the monster sort of lionize Victor, and bemoan his sad fall due to persecution from the creature. Yes, Victor had a tragic downfall, but it was of his own making. He's not the hero of this story. No one is, really, nor is anyone truly the villain (notice I never used the "iconic villain debut" tag in this book). And I'm not talking about "oh, his actions had terrible consequences that he couldn't possibly have foreseen," because he created a giant, sentient, intelligent creature and then just abandons it. How could something bad possibly come from that?

ANYWAY. This final cover comes from a 1934 edition published by Harrison Smith and Robert Haas, with cover and illustrations by Lynd Ward (1905-1985). Ward was a very influential artist, best known for his engraved wood illustrations, particularly in his series of "wordless novels" that strongly influenced the development of the graphic novel. He also illustrated hundreds of children's books, won the 1953 Caldecott Medal for his book The Biggest Bear, and of course illustrated a number of classics, such as Frankenstein here.

Man, look at that! I love the art deco / German expressionistic look of this. It's like Fritz Lang directed this book cover. Also, hee, monster butt. I really wish I could've used his illustrations in my posts, because they're just magnificent, really. Check out Victor and the monster on the glacier! The monster running among lightning trees! William's murder! Victor with his chemistry equipment! Hey, wait, that looks a lot... oh, Airmont Classics. You plagiarizing scamps. (UPDATE: I forgot to link to the main site, where you can see a whole bunch more of the illustrations from this edition! DISCLAIMER: The guy who compiled the site is an author on an apparent crusade to prove that not Mary but Percy Shelley wrote Frankenstein, a position I do not support.)

Just a couple of quick notes in this one, as most of the being miserable was fairly straightforward. At 6:36, Victor pursues the monster into Tartary and Russia, where Tartary was a large chunk of central and northern Asia that included Mongolia, Siberia, Turkestan, and Manchuria, among other regions. This is of course where the Tartars we met in "Sleepy Hollow" came from.

At 33:38, Walton's letter from September 12th recounts how the ice broke up on September 9th. Well, the text actually says "September 19th" there, which was presumably a typesetting error in the 1818 edition due to the printer assuming that it was supposed to be the date of the next letter and thus should have a later number. It was corrected in later printings, so I figured I'd just change it myself rather than leave it weird and confusing.

Last, 48:21 the monster talks about Felix driving him from his door "with contumely," which basically means "with insulting and humiliating treatment."

And that's a wrap! We're going to lighten things up a bit with our short story interlude, as well as our next book. Stay tuned!


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 Twenty-Two to Twenty-Four

In which Mombi is discovered and there is an exciting chase, after which Mombi reveals the secret of Princess Ozma's disappearance, and all is brought to a happy ending; and in which our narrator expostulates at length about the feminist implications and interpretations of the book.



Last installment, and boy have we got some surprises in store for you! Well, one surprise. Maybe.

More after the jump!

The Time Machine, Chapters Ten to Twelve and Epilogue

In which our hero swaggers right into an obvious trap, is nearly foiled due to strike-on-box matches, escapes due to time travel, sees the even farther distant future, and returns home; and in which we learn in a wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey way that our framing story narrator's name is "Hillyer.



And that wraps it up for The Time Machine! As mentioned in the recording, there was a deleted scene called "The Grey Man" (deleted by Wells himself) that I have recorded and will be posting separately.

I've got a few covers for you this time, mostly seeming to go with the design philosophy of "eh, good enough."

This first one here on the right is by Everyman's Library from 1978. Now, this is not really "eh, good enough," as obviously someone put a lot of work and thought into this 'cause there's a LOT GOIng on here. We've got Evel Knieval as the Time Traveler, wearing a sweet checked shirt under a... fishing vest? They've got the multiple-exposure thing to represent time travel we saw before, though here they at least added different poses. We've also got the flying numbers, though less subtle here. Oh, and our guy falls down through a vortex, over some geometric planes, some ruler markings or something, and the odd impression that the year 1970 will be important somehow.

More covers and note after the jump!

Sense and Sensibility, Volume the Third, Chapters Thirteen and Fourteen

In which Elinor and Edward are happy, the conduct of Lucy and Robert is explained, the Ferrars are all reconciled, Marianne gives in to the inevitable and falls for Colonel Brandon, and all live happily ever after.



Sorry this is going up a day late! I had the recording ready to go yesterday and the post half-finished, but then I decided to go out to the movies all day with my wife, and I stand by that decision.

And, at last, we find our two heroines settled and happy, with Edward honorably released from his engagement to Lucy, and Marianne getting everyone to shut up about Colonel Brandon but just marrying him already (although, all right, they gave it a couple of years for her to actually fall for him.)

Two quick notes in this last installment, both while talking about Elinor and Edward's new house in Delaford: at 26:50, while talking about improvements they will be making, we hear that they plan on "invent[ing] a sweep," where a "sweep" is a long, winding driveway. Then, John Dashwood talks about how fine the timber is in Delaford Hanger (presumably with dollar signs -- pound signs? -- in his eyes.) A "hanger" here is a wooded area growing on the side of a steep hill or embankment (hanging on the side of it, you see.)

27:45 - "Everything in such respectable condition."

And, with a note about the extraordinariness of two sisters living so closely by without fighting or setting their husbands against one another, we conclude Sense and Sensibility. Thank you for listening, and stay tuned for the next short story interlude!


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!

Around the World in Eighty Days, Chapters Thirty-Four to Thirty-Seven

In which Passepartout is given the opportunity of letting out some atrocious, but perhaps unpublished, words; Passepartout does not have repeated to him twice the order his master gives him; "Phileas Fogg" is again at a premium in the market; and it is proved that Phileas Fogg has gained nothing by making this tour of the world, unless it be happiness; and in which our narrator is not entirely sure he remembered the correct (terrible) voices for Phileas Fogg's Reform Club friends.



No notes for these last few short chapters, but we do have a final three illustrations:

8:45 - “He found in the letter box a note from the gas company.”

22::00 - "'Gentlemen, here I am!"

22:50 - "His hair disordered, hatless, running, running..."

As I mention in the recording, one does wonder how exactly our party gained a full day without noticing. I mean, no, the International Date Line didn't officially exist yet, but in practice that extra day should've shown up as soon as they landed in The United States and tried to catch one of their trains or boats a day before it departed. But maybe I'm just nitpicky.

And that's all for Around the World in Eighty Days, which has now taken its proper place upon the Bookshelf! Come back soon for a short story interlude, followed by a brand new book. Thanks for listening!


If you would like to read along, my translation by Stephen W. White can be found courtesy of Choptank Press on Google Books. If you prefer one of the other options, the George Towle translation can be found at Zvi Har’El’s Jules Verne Collection, which is also where I got the illustrations, or the more accurate but rather fusty Henry Frith translation can be found at Project Gutenberg. No reading ahead, though!

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Chapters Twenty to Twenty-Four

In which a very delicate town is encountered, the Lion becomes a king through assassination, better use is made of the Winged Monkeys than last time, our heroes finally meet Glinda, and all is brought to a happy ending.



Once again, better late than never, eh? Eh? Eh. Sorry to keep you waiting, but here are the last set of illustrations for our story:

Treasure Island, Chapters Thirty-Three and Thirty-Four

In which our heroes get away surprisingly easily, there is much hauling of gold, and the primary villain gets away with it; and in which our narrator swears that there was more of Long John in the book, but maybe he's just thinking about Tim Curry.



Only a few notes for these last two chapters, most importantly dealing with the monetary list Jim makes while sorting out the treasure. My own editions makes a note of "walking the plank," for those unaware of what that means in a pirate context, but oddly neither of the note "pig nuts," because I seriously thought Long John was being a little cruder than he actually was.

Two final N. C. Wyeth illustrations for these sections: first, we've got Jim in Ben Gunn's cave, sorting through the massive pile of coins and loading them into bags, alongside a stack of gold ingots:

11:35 -  "I was kept busy all day in the cave packing the minted money into bread-bags."

Second, we've got the neat endpapers to Wyeth's edition, showing the pirate band charging forth to find the treasure, armed with cutlasses, muskets, shovels, and pickaxes:

And that does now officially close the book on Treasure Island. The whole book is now gathered together on The Bookshelf. Stay tuned for another short story interlude before starting our next book, and thanks for listening!


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

Anne of Green Gables, Chapters Thirty-Seven and Thirty-Eight

In which there is sadness, new plans, reconciliations, and the bend in the road.



Our final installment of Anne of Green Gables brings with it our final original illustration, as well:

25:26 - "'Come, I'm going to walk home with you.'"

Obviously destined to be together.

Anyways, Ms. Montgomery inserts a couple of other quotes. She makes reference to "loss in all familiar things," a reference to the poem "Snow-Bound: A Winter Idyl" by John Greenleaf Whittier, a long poem in which a family is trapped in the homestead for three days during a snowstorm, and pass the time by sharing stories. The quote comes, unsurprisingly, from a section about mourning a lost loved one.

The "Josiah Allen's wife" Anne refers to is Marietta Holley, a satirist from the last 1800s who appears to be largely forgotten today. The term "mejum" appears to come from Holley's novel called — oh dear — Sarah Among the Colored Folks. It seems to mean "medium," in context meaning "moderate" or "reasonable."

When the narration refers to Avonlea as "a haunt of ancient peace," it's quoting Tennyson again, this time his poem "The Palace of Art," supposedly referring to Gunby Hall, a country house in England allegedly haunted by the spirit of a former servant who was murdered sometime in the early 1700s by the hall's lord as he was running away with the lord's daughter (or maybe wife.) Nice and peaceful!

Finally, Anne's last line is from "Pippa Passes," a drama by Robert Browning. The whole quote goes:

"The year’s at the spring,

And day’s at the morn;

Morning’s at seven;

The hill-side’s dew-pearled;

The lark’s on the wing;

The snail’s on the thorn;

God’s in His heaven—

All’s right with the world!"

Which of course brings us to the end of the book. Thanks so much for listening.

(And like you didn't get at least a little choked up too. Shut up.)


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

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Chapters Ten to Twelve

In which our heroine is entertained by the Mock Turtle, observes a trial of Dubious Legality, is called to present evidence and Hulks Out, before Awakening to her sister musing on the Nature of Childhood, and in which our narrator insists you can skip certain parts Without Offense, and breaks the fourth wall Rather Improperly.



Once again, the illustrations (specifically, the frontispiece) are specifically mentioned in the text: