Commonplace Book

'Respecting insects brings joy. Taking a passionate interest in the infinitely small helps guard against an infinitely mediocre life. For the insect lover, a puddle can be Lake Tanganyika, a pile of sand takes on the aspect of the Taklamakan Desert, and a patch of brush becomes the Mato Grosso Plateau. Entering the geography of the insect gives grass the dimensions of a world.'

from The Consolations of the Forest by Sylvain Tesson (July 5)

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'...Misfortune casts off ties. Happiness is an obstacle to serenity. When I was happy, I was afraid of unhappiness.'

from The Consolations of the Forest by Sylvain Tesson (June 23)

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'"Modern complaints always end in itis," continued Mrs Gaythorne. "I disapprove of diseases that end in itis."

"Still, you must admit they might end in something worse," said Carr.

Mrs Gaythorne majestically ignored such ill-timed levity. "When I was young, the complaints that people suffered from did not end in itis, they ended in ache; and nobody talked about them."'

from In Subjection by Ellen Thorneycroft Fowler (Chapter VIII)

Commonplace Book

'Paul smiled fondly at his wife. "Even if you succeed in convincing us that every man is a coward, nothing will induce me to accept the dogma that every woman is a shrew."

"Now for my part," remarked Greenstreet, "I considered that by far the more plausible of the two tenets of Mrs Seaton's creed."

Isabel laughed gaily. "Therefore you must see that when a woman behaves like an angel it is all the more credit to her."

"Doubtless it would be; but personally I have never come across an instance," replied the author.'

from In Subjection by Ellen Thorneycroft Fowler (Chapter VI)

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'At eight in the morning, a bear of well over six hundred pounds comes prowling around the sandy embankment to the south of the small clearing at Elohin. Volodya has filled some cans with seal fat to attract the animals, and now he murmurs, "Ah, too bad it isn't about a third of a mile to the north, outside the preserve, we could shoot it." I feel suddenly numb with despair. We ought to have a little bit of our neocortex removed at birth to neutralise our desire to destroy the world. Man is a capricious child who believes the Earth is his bedroom, the animals his toys, the trees his baby rattles.'

from The Consolations of the Forest by Sylvain Tesson (May 9)

Rhoda Fleming by George Meredith (1865)

This seems to me to be what is commonly called a 'holiday novel'. For a start, it's quite a bit shorter than its recent predecessors. A holiday novel, though, like Orlando for example, is usually lighter in tone, contains sparks of silly fun or a playful attitude to concepts. Meredith here turns this idea on its head. As his usual mode is one of sophisticated comedy, his holiday comes in not being comic to any great extent; a holiday in tragedy. It's the story of two sisters from a farm, one of whom, Dahlia, falls for a well-to-do scion of a local family, the nephew of the squire at the big house. Edward Blancove seems a typical gent of his times and enjoys her, making all sorts of promises never intending to keep them. Dahlia travels to London to be maid to a relative, and lets her family know that she is married to Edward. This is not quite the case. Promises have been made but the actuality falls short. As she realises that Edward hasn't meant what he's said, she begins a withering, a falling away of spirit. Trying desperately to keep the reality from her gullible and simple farmer father, and all the rest of her family, she secretes herself away when Edward plans to leave for the continent having tired of her. Meanwhile her sister, the eponymous Rhoda, who is a more forthright and strong character, is frantic with worry at her peculiar evasions and silences. Then follows a complicated search for her: tussles between the farm manager, Robert, who is in love with Rhoda (she's not completely sure about him), and various members of the Blancove set, some of whom know a lot about what's going on, and who have intricate motivations of their own; fights between Robert and Edward, and Robert and Nic Sedgett, a nasty-piece-of-work local who is hired by Edward to give Robert a drubbing for interfering, and who also has plans of his own to get ahead by manipulation of all and sundry. Money also plays a part: it is determined by Rhoda, and then her father, once they know the truth, that Dahlia must marry to save her reputation. Sedgett offers himself for a price (Rhoda hasn't been party to his prior involvement), and she accepts, thinking that Sedgett's plan of emigrating will help Dahlia to avoid scrutiny, and he seems like a nice man. Their uncle, one of Meredith's few comic concessions, who is a long-term bank clerk, has finally succumbed and robbed his employers, and she catches him just at the right moment to unknowingly extricate some of the funds for Sedgett's payment. Dahlia is horrified instinctually by Sedgett, and still believes in Edward, but is so spiritually weakened by her disastrous situation that she limply agrees to go through with it. Sedgett reveals his true colours to Rhoda after the wedding in his impatience for the money and sudden change to a nasty tone. Dahlia collapses in horror at what she's done, pining for Edward, and needs to be taken away to the farm to recuperate. Meanwhile Edward has had a change of heart. His time away has acted as a tonic on his spirits, and he realises that he must right things with Dahlia and make her his wife in actuality. He is seen by the Flemings and their associates as the impersonation of evil, and his letters are stopped before they reach Dahlia. All comes to a head at the farm, with a recuperating Dahlia, a visit from Sedgett demanding to take his wife to the ship for emigration, a letter from Blancove who has arrived at the hall nearby, and a huge realisation on the part of Rhoda and her father that they haven't helped but rather made things worse. Coupled with that is the recognition that Edward has changed and wants to make things right. Initially, though, the stress of Sedgett's visit, strongly supported by their unaware father claiming that Dahlia should think herself lucky she has a saviour in her husband, pushes her over the edge. She takes a draught of something noxious while locked away in her room, and is only narrowly saved. The truth comes out that Sedgett is already married, thus nullifying his marriage to Dahlia, and Edward is forgiven. Sedgett scarpers. Robert and Rhoda have been through so much of this tragedy together, both in sympathy and at loggerheads, that their love is confirmed, and the scene is set for a double wedding. However, the last chapter reveals that Dahlia has endured so long in such a spiritual dampening that the idea of love is now beyond her - she dedicates her life to others, particularly "poor girls", in atonement for her original mistake. This entire piece is strung in Meredith's usual way, at high tension, and with great subtlety, where tiny developments of character's minds count for a lot. It may be a holiday for him, but it's still a fantastic trip for the reader.

Commonplace Book

'"I shall be glad of my tea," remarked Mrs Gaythorne, when the commotion had subsided; "I am thirsty." She spoke as impressively as if she were announcing some great scientific truth. "I have just been taking the chair at the annual meeting of the Society for the Propagation of the Church Hymnal among the inhabitants of the Antarctic Circle, and am now on my way to preside at the annual meeting of the Anti-Tomato League, for the suppression of tomatoes as an article of diet; and consequently I require a little refreshment."

Mrs Gaythorne was guilty of one human frailty, namely, an inordinate affection for presiding over public meetings. On this matter she knew neither temperance nor restraint. As some women take stimulants and others sedatives, so Mrs Gaythorne took chairs.'

from In Subjection by Ellen Thorneycroft Fowler (Chapter IV)