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?
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
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5 comments:
The world of literature seemed like the real world. And the real world seemed like the contrived one.
Very good point. I think a lot of that had to do with her position -- the only place she could even get to see a regular conversation or relationship was in a book, right?
What grabbed you?
Good question! The first thing that comes to mind is that the writing was vivid and the characterization was so alive. I wish I could be more specific, but it just was such an all-around grabby read!
Yeah, I found that stuff really interesting, too. It was really the back-to-basics approach to literature -- just reading a book for pleasure and moving on to the next one -- that was most satisfying to her. Not meeting the authors or examining historic manuscripts.
I loved that bit where she suggested books to the prime minister and he was appalled at the idea. (This reminded me -- I have heard several work acquaintances say lately that they can't remember the last time they read a book. And they say it like reading a book would be a big chore. I don't get it.)
I am very fond, too, of Bennett's writing style. (This is the only thing of his I have read). It's gentle and matter-of-fact and has a very satisfying readability and clarity.
I also enjoy how there's a quality of intrigue — all the stuff with Kevin, for example — and how it's noted that the palace functions in similar ways as hundreds of years ago. Only now instead of beheadings and such, people are sent back to New Zealand. Same gesture, less dire result.
Yeah, good point. That New Zealand stuff was pretty funny.
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