Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Writing

What did you think about the Queen's decision to become a writer as well as a reader? What do you think she might write about? Did you feel she would actually produce something or would it turn out like the old servant who had been "working" fruitlessly on his memoirs for decades?

Friday, February 13, 2009

Above and below

What do you think makes tales of the high-and-mighty mingling with everyday people so irresistible?

(I loved how the Queen didn't really get Jane Austen at first because she was so removed from and above the social struggles Austen wrote about, but she eventually was in a position to understand it and to enjoy Austen).

Luxury of access

The Queen had the luxury of meeting any author or literary scholar she wanted and quizzing them on their work. If you could meet a few writers for this purpose, whom would you pick?

And if you had access to any historic manuscript, what would it be?

Fact and fiction

What did you think of Bennett's mingling of fact and fiction — putting real people in made-up situations? Did you think the effectiveness of the novella depended on just that?

Hostility

Why do you think the people around the Queen were hostile to her reading? And why did people feel so uncomfortable in the presence of literary matters (like they had to be prepped that the Queen might ask what they were reading)?

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Reading and writing

I was amused when the Queen had all the writers gathered and found that she had little to say to them and vice versa. It was like being in their physical presence didn't hold a candle to being in their mental presence as she was when she communed with them in her solitary reading.

Related: I found it intensely intriguing that she had so much access to the world of literature — to authors, literary scholars, historic first editions, estates, private letters, all the priceless manuscripts in the British Museum and everywhere in the world — and yet none of that could really trump the simple pleasure of carrying a cheap paperback in her purse, like all of us commoners might do, and marking it up with her pencil and her private insights. The contents of the book — mere ink on paper — were ultimately more valuable than anything else.

And also all the notions about how reading and writing are highly solitary activities, but also have the effect of humanizing a person, of fostering empathy and passion and all the best feelings. The reading of literature takes us out of society (as we see when the Queen starts evading her duties to have more time to read) but the understanding of it puts us back in and makes us emotionally richer members (as we see in her changed reactions, like taking more notice, to people and situations around her).

The world of literature seemed like the real world. And the real world seemed like the contrived one.

I like how the Queen would suggest books for people and seriously expect them to read them and talk about them. Reading wasn't just a thing one did for a pleasant diversion; it was essential to understanding the human condition. Everyone was "too busy" to read, but the Queen dismissively and endearingly concludes: "one must make the time."

There's not a question in there, but just some stuff that grabbed me about the book. What grabbed you?

Uncommonly fond

What, exactly, was it about Norman that drew the Queen to him? And what was the significance, if any, of his preference for gay writers?

Monday, February 02, 2009