#260 Leaves of Grass (1892)

Author: Walt Whitman
Title: Leaves of Grass (Deathbed Edition)
Genre: Poetry
Year: 1892
Pages: 400
Origin: read on the iPad
Nod Rating: 2 nods out of 5

 

For a long time Leaves of Grass has held a fascination with the Worm. A seeming modest collection of poems, the book has a long list of admirers from its initial date of publication to the present day. The Worm has gazed at various publications of the collection in many book-shops, always wondering whether or not to take the plunge. Such is Whitman’s association with America – and late nineteenth-century American history – that the Worm was scared off due to not knowing enough about the period to really savour and enjoy his supposed talent for stringing words together.

The Worm was able to download Leaves of Grass recently. However, unfortunately for him, it was not the modest volume thumbed on many a book-case, but rather the final edition of Whitman’s collection. Due to spending the bulk of his life revising and rewriting his initial publication from 1855, the final “death-bed” edition of Leaves of Grass runs to over four-hundred poems.

Ah, the Worm hears you say, quality and quantity: what a rare treat. Indeed, dear reader, both of those Qs together is a rare treat. But such a treat is not to be found within the pages of Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass. Allow the Worm to explain why…

Firstly, the scope of this collection of poems is too vast to be about anything in particular. A short volume is succinct and allows the writer and poet to express their thoughts and feelings on a subject. But four hundred poems? Why does Whitman need four hundred poems to say what other poets could say in ten? Whitman attempts to encompass as much as possible about American culture as it then stood in the late-nineteenth century. However, by doing this he runs the risk of becoming all sound and fury, signifying nothing.

Whitman’s tool for attempting to cover everything: listing. This is a technique used in order to outline basic information. Whitman uses it – armed with the almighty comma – as a poetry technique. We’re given a list on the American vastness, on its people, on its past, on its potential, the paving-man, the canal boy, the conductor, the child, the regatta, the drover, the peddler, the bride, the opium-eater, the prostitute, the crowd, the President: list, list, list! Rather than poetry it reads like a sermon, a Bible of lists of America.

This “listing” technique is further exacerbated by the lack of any rhyme or meter. Words are chucked together, with no regard for length, structure, or fluidity. Whitman continues to rewrite throughout his life, but seemingly, he does not edit. More words and piled on top of one another, forever hoping to get to the heart of the matter in what he truly means to say. But despite the words stacking up, true meaning seems to elude him. Rather than take a step back to think about such meaning Whitman continues to scoop on the words, one after the over, until us – the readers – have our bellies filled with sickly prose.

Now, such words appear to be harsh. They are meant to be harsh. However, the Worm did manage to enjoy or poem or two of this ridiculously massive collection. There are lines to be enjoyed: ‘Who goes there? Hankering, gross, mystical, nude; How is it I extract strength from the beef I eat?’ Regrettably, such lines are hemmed within a sea of merciless listing.

Before his death, Whitman noted how he wished for the final “death-bed” edition to supersede all previous ones. The next time the Worm touches Whitman it will be the first edition of Leaves of Grass only. Life is far too short to wade through the listing that Whitman should be – but seemingly isn’t - infamous for. But such is Whitman’s legend and hold over the United States of America, the Worm is not holding out for such a critique to gain any foundation.

 
Read all about it here

#259 Tudor Cornwall (1941)

Author: A.L. Rowse
Title: Tudor Cornwall
Genre: Local History
Year: 1941
Pages: 450
Origin: bought from Waterstone’s many moons ago
Nod Rating: 4 nods out of 5

 

It has been a while since the Worm returned to one of his favourite reading pursuits: the history of that most beloved of duchies/counties/countries (delete as your politics dictates): Cornwall. And what better historian to reacquaint the Worm with such history than the cantankerous A.L. Rowse? Rowse’s name is well established with the Tudor period, particularly in his scholarship on Shakespearian works. However, Cornwall is his place of birth, and Tudor Cornwall holds an esteemed reputation with Cornish historians the world over.

Rowse traces history from the lawless time of the Wars of the Roses in the late fifteenth century, the arrival of the Tudor dynasty, the turmoil under various rulers – principally that of Henry VIII – and the later focus on the trusty Elizabethan sea-dogs and the war with the super-power Spain. Due to such illustrious characters during this period, as well as the great religious changes, the sixteenth century offers easy pickings for anyone wishing to highlight its history.

In particular, focus is devoted on the principal rebellions, including the 1497 rebellion led by the legendary (or, would be legendary if only people remembered the legend) An Gof, the failed and foiled Perkin Warbeck uprising, as well as the 1549 Prayer Book Rebellion that engulfed social, religious and political barriers. Rowse charts the change of mood in religion, from a Catholic enclave to one that took pride in the state’s Protestant exploits. 1549 is seen as a decisive date in Cornish history: with an English prayer-book imposed on the region the Cornish language received a further nail in its coffin. Furthermore, during this period powers are taken away from the corners of the kingdom, placing greater central control within the capital of London. Rowse comments on the change from feudal anarchy, highlighting the painful transformation for such a remote county as Cornwall.

As well as the big themes that connect all of England together, special attention is provided for the local dimension. This includes the layout of the land of the country, its industry and trade, the social structure within Cornwall, as well as ‘the life of the society and of the individual’. The depth of research is striking: this is no mere overview of the Tudor period, but rather an extensive and exhaustive academic piece of work. It is a shame that the county has not received similarly in-depth attention from later historians (although it must be noted that Cornwall has been fortunate to receive the attention from the Institute of Cornish Studies).

When compared to modern-day historians and writers, it is clear that Rowse is a man stuck within his time. Opinionated and severe in his judgements, Rowse lives up every bit to that school of historians from the mid-twentieth century (and earlier) that spent time investigating Tudor England (particularly G.R. Elton). What with the smiling face of the modern-day TV personality historian, sometimes the Worm longs for such an old-fashioned historian to become popular once more in order to shake a few feathers.

Read about A.L. Rowse here

#258 Tales from the Secret Footballer (2013)

Author: Anon
Title: Tales from the Secret Footballer
Genre: Sport
Year: 2013
Pages: 250
Origin: read on the Kindle
Nod Rating: 2 nods out of 5

 

The Secret Footballer found (slight) fame in a series of articles published in The Guardian. The column promised to lift ‘the lid on the world of football’, with topics ranging from what happens in the changing rooms, to motivations of players and how they deal with the press and agents. Such was the popularity of the regular column that it led to a couple of books; Tales from the Secret Footballer is the second to be printed.

Clearly, this read is only suitable for those with an interest in football. But in terms of the usual tosh spewed out by publishers on various sports, Tales from the Secret Footballer is actually entertaining. Blessed with anonymity, the author is able to openly discuss (and deride) former bosses and team-mates in small chapters. He also floats various ideas of working in other football related industries, from coaching to taking up opportunities in China.

Of course, the biggest entertainment factor is in the guessing as to who the Secret Footballer actually is. Various names have been suggested, including Phil Neville, Danny Murphy and Leighton Baines (if none of these name ring a bell with you, then this review is really not your cup of tea… in which case, why are you still reading this?). The biggest culprit, however, appears to be Dave Kitson. Yes, that house-hold name of a player.

Tales from the Secret Footballer is a light-weight read, never threatening anything more than to engage the interest of its reader for a short-time. But for football fans it makes the perfect stocking-filler at Christmas time. To be fair, the book has no pretensions on anything greater.

Read more about the Secret Footballer here

#257 Henry VIII (1613)

Author: William Shakespeare
Title: Henry VIII
Genre: Play
Year: 1613
Origin: read on the iPad
Nod Rating: 3 nods out of 5

 

Henry VIII is an odd little play. It is regarded as one of Shakespeare’s history-plays, however, it is uneven, fitting several possible genres, with an insecure plot that makes it hard to tell if it is a tragedy of not. Unlike the other history plays in the Shakespeare canon – as reviewed on this blog in recent years – it contains no battle scenes. Even its title is misleading, with the plot revolving around Henry VIII’s right hand man, Cardinal Wolsey, and principally his fall from power. In fact, the authorship of the play remains in dispute. It is widely acknowledged that it is collaboration between Shakespeare and John Fletcher.

The plot centres on the power struggle within the Tudor court. Cardinal Wolsey held a high amount of power in England in the years 1515 to 1529, during which time he collected many enemies as the king grew stronger in his attention to domestic affairs. The ticking time-bomb to Wolsey’s fall rests on the love triangle between Henry, his wife Catherine of Aragon, and wife #2 Anne Boleyn (Ann Bullen in this play).

When weighted up against Shakespeare’s other important plays, Henry VIII is firmly placed in the shade. Perhaps it is more famous for its part in burning down the original Globe theatre (due to a special effect that went wrong), consigning it to the sin-bin of jinxed plays never to be touched. However, it recently found favour in 2010 with fresh performances. The director, Mark Rosenblatt, made the comparison of the play to political satirical show The Thick of It, commenting that despite the lack of sword fights, ‘all the battles take place on the corridors of power.’

Such similarities to the rise and fall of New Labour (Blair as Henry, and perhaps Mandelson as Wolsey?) was a welcome thought for the Worm. Without this, perhaps the play can be disregarded as a small affair, not fully taking up the challenge of a narrative that truly centres on such an influential king in Henry. It is not a bad read, with the play’s historical eccentric side-notes making it a read worth experiencing at least once.

Read the play here

#256 The Killing Joke (1988)

Author: Alan Moore & Brian Bollard
Title: The Killing Joke
Genre: Graphic Novel
Year: 1988
Pages: 60
Origin: read on the iPad
Nod Rating: 3 nods out of 5

 

The Killing Joke is one of those influential comic books that everyone seems to know something about. It inspired a shift-change in how artists and comic-book writers handled the gigantic legend of Batman, later also informing the Christopher Nolan trilogy of films in recent years. However, despite all of that, the story’s writer – Sir Alan Moore – has become slightly dismissive of his work.

The first read of The Killing Joke – some seven or so years previously – was an engaging one. Having not been a comic-reading enthusiast in his youth, it was the Worm’s first real immersion into the genre. It was dark, action-packed, with an interesting narrative that took into account the (supposed) beginnings of Batman’s arch-nemesis, the Joker. As such, the Worm joined the ranks of others who supported its influence and special place within graphic novel history.

Second-time round always brings new surprises. This time the Worm had the experience of feasting on other Batman storylines (particularly that of Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns), as well as more of Sir Moore’s back catalogue (including the excellent The Watchmen). This time the journey was not as engaging or surprising, with the Worm’s comic-book reading critical eye shrugging at some of the lacklustre dialogue, and becoming disinterested at the shock-factor of the shooting of Gordon’s daughter. Furthermore, some of the plot seemed rushed, including the Joker’s origin back-story. In what is an otherwise downbeat review, what of the positives? Reading the 2008 deluxe reprint it is clear of the highlights of the artwork of Bollard.

The Killing Joke remains a crucial read for anyone serious in their devotion to Batman, or indeed, to that of Sir Alan Moore (yes, the Worm has knighted him). 3 nods may appear slightly unkind, but the Worm is not one for sentiments. Furthermore, this reviewer believes that the reading experience may become good once again, third-time round. See you in another seven or so years, Killing Joke.

#255 The Sound and the Fury (1929) [Revisited]

Author: William Faulkner
Title: The Sound and the Fury
Genre: Novel
Year: 1929
Origin: a fantastic and astonishing birthday present
Nod Rating: 5 nods out of 5

 

The Sound and the Fury is the Worm’s most favoured novel. Yes, it was reviewed only three or so years ago on this very blog (scoring 5 nods out of 5). In almost five years of reading and reviewing on this blog Faulkner’s novel is the first book in which the Worm has returned (although there have been temptations in other directions). At the time – June 2011 – the Worm was positive in his applause: ‘a breath-taking must-read of a novel’. And he remains incredibly positive about this novel. It is set in the American south in the 1920s, centring on the Compson family; divided into four parts, each one is told from the viewpoint of one of the Compson brothers, each building on their obsession with southern values and their vivacious sister, Caddy.

So, why return to this novel, the Worm hears you ask. Principally the return is due to a new reading experience. In the summer of 2012 the Worm was presented with a particular edition of Faulkner’s novel; the key difference being that it was printed in coloured ink, just as Faulkner had initially intended (the idea was scotched due to the price of printing it in this manner). The colour itself was used in order to differentiate between the vast and jutting time shifts in the book’s first section, otherwise italicised in editions between the 1930s to the present day. Faulkner himself rued his overturned choice: ‘I wish publishing was advanced enough to use coloured ink… I’ll just have to save the idea until publishing grows up to it.’

It was interesting re-reading this novel with Faulkner’s idea fully realised. The shifts in time flowed more easily (as is needed in Benjy’s opening section; on first reading many years ago the Worm was almost dissuaded from ploughing on after becoming annoyed in the first ten pages). Furthermore, it was also a thrill knowing that the book was limited in number (only 1,480 copies printed); the book now takes pride of place in the Worm’s make-shift library.

Of good value was an accompany commentary volume: another 230 pages offering notes and description on the novel. The Worm re-read this novel slowly, centring on pages at a time, rather than whole chapters or tens of pages at a time. In this way, he completed re-reading the book in the space of eighteen months, using the commentary volume in order to add even greater depth to his understanding. During this reading process – completely new to the Worm – he was reminded of a documentary in which a book-reading group met up once a month to read two or three pages of James Joyce’s Finnegan’s Wake. The Finnegan’s Wake Society is worldwide, with one group in Brisbane, Australia, predicting that it would take them until 2039 to complete the book!

The Sound and the Fury is a book that has been enjoyed at every reading; the Worm fancies creating up a society to rival that of Finnegan’s Wake. But, of course, he is much too greedy a reader to move at the dictates of others. However, the Worm is generous enough to suggest to everyone to pick up a copy of this book whenever the opportunity presents itself: only a few reads are so intense that the reader is unable to shift them from their mind.

 

Read the original review of The Sound and the Fury here

Further information on this edition of the book here

#254 Elizabeth's Spy Master (2006)

Author: Robert Hutchinson
Title: Elizabeth’s Spy Master
Genre: History/Biography
Year: 2006
Pages: 350
Origin: bought from the Works for £2.99
Nod Rating: 3 nods out of 5

 

A few weeks previously the Worm read another Tudor based book written by Robert Hutchinson (Young Henry). The Worm was slightly unflattering with his review, concluding it with the words: ‘there is little need in anyone picking up a copy of Hutchinson’s book in a hurry’. In fact, the Worm was reluctant to return to any Hutchinson book anytime soon, however, both Young Henry and this book, Elizabeth’s Spy Master, were bought together. It tugged at the Worm’s heartstrings to leave the latter book on the shelves, consigned to the forgotten corners and untouched for many book reading years to come. So, guilt won out. But the Worm is thankful for this. Hutchinson’s Elizabeth’s Spy Master is a far superior book on many levels. Allow him to explain in greater detail.

The book is centred on the life and times of Sir Francis Walsingham. He is noted as one of the great statesmen of his age; alongside William Cecil and the Earl of Leicester he formed the bedrock on which the success of the Elizabethan state was built. He graduated up the slippery slope of politics until he became indispensable throughout the 1570s and 1580s, particularly in the administration of the country. However, it is within his role as “spy master” and thrawting Catholic plots in which he is popularly known. Hutchinson argues the case that Walsingham is ‘one of the great unknown heroes of English history. By right, he should rank with Horatio Nelson, the Duke of Wellington and even Sir Winston Churchill as one of the great patriotic defenders, against all-comers, of this island state.’

However, Walsingham appears not to have obtained his due by the public (although this is a different matter with historians and academics). Hutchinson believes this is due to him being ‘a man very much of the shadows’, and his book is an account of his shadowing doings and dealings.

The experience of reading the book is slightly jarring: it knows not if it is a biography or a history book analysing the period under question. Of course, Walsingham himself was tightly woven into the nation’s fortunes; as such, as with any political history, the reader must follow the great events. Hutchinson uses the Catholic plots against the country as a rough framework, building up a traditional biographical narrative as we reach the 1580s and the strife and drama of the Babington Plot. This in turn witnesses the trail and execution of Mary Queen of Scots, perhaps Walsingham’s greatest success. The defeat of the Spanish Armada in 1588 serves as a climax, all before the death of the great man having tasted victory.

Due to much of the information on Walsingham’s personality and own thoughts are now seemingly lost to history, Hutchinson attempts to compensate by dragging the reader – kicking and screaming – into the dirty underworld of the age. This includes the torture exacted on Catholic missionary priests and the ghastly deaths and confessions extracted. Hutchinson is keen to highlight Walsingham’s role as the Tudor age’s answer to James Bond by concentrating on his spy network (devoting a section at the book’s conclusion to various people connected to this).

Elizabeth’s Spy Master is an engaging read. It shines the light on a man unknown to most, whose deeds were of high importance to an Elizabethan state that was delicately placed in a hostile world. You may not be in a hurry to buy a copy, but if anyone is browsing the titles available in a well-stocked Works they could do little better than pick up this book.

Buy it here

#253 Marvel 1602 (2003)

Authors: Neil Gaiman (writer) & Andy Kubert (artist)
Title: Marvel 1602
Genre: Graphic Novel
Year: 2003
Pages: 250
Origin: read on the iPad
Nod Rating: 3 nods out of 5

 

As most of you review reading fans will know (the whole two of you, I believe) the Worm has a fondness for Tudor history as well as comic books. What better way to spend a weekend in reading Marvel’s own Marvel 1602. Yes, the title is rather bland and uninspiring, however the idea and overall execution was an interesting one to follow.

Marvel 1602 is an eight-issue comic book series released throughout 2003. Written by Neil Gaiman (a further enticement) it promised some intriguing and engaging ideas. Characters from the Marvel universe are transplanted to the end of the Tudor period. Queen Elizabeth is an aging and dying woman, assisted by Sir Nicholas Fury (who in turn is assisted by Spiderman’s Peter Parker as Peter Parquagh). The Fantastic Four are present, known as a sailors who went missing at sea, only to be discovered as the prisoners of – who else – the evil Doom. England is home to those who dare to dabble in magic, including Stephen Strange and many of the X-Men (led by Carlos Xavier). However, England is set against the Catholic reactionaries from across Europe, in particular the Inquisition years of Spain. The villains of the Marvel comic books fill the roles, notably that of Magneto as the Grand Inquisitor. This battle is played against the running out of a clock, as the world is speculated to soon self-destruct.

But rather than simple “good” versus “evil” (the life and blood battle for Marvel for six decades) the writers attempt to build a bridge between this alternative universe and the one played out week after week on comic book stands. As states the writer ‘We are the Marvel Universe. It’s 400 years ago. For reasons we do not yet understand, people and events are coming into existence at the wrong time.’ This is a theme returned to as the climax rises throughout the pages, with Dr Reed postulates:

‘We are a boatful of monsters and miracles, hoping that somehow, we can survive a world in which all hands are against us. A world which, by all evidence, will end extremely soon…. [We are] a universe in which no story can ever truly end; in which there can be only continuances.’

Unfortunately, not all of this is fully pulled off. Yes, the action is present, but the volume of characters overpowers any momentum. It is likely that when given the keys to the embarrassment of riches that are all Marvel characters Gaiman became greedy. The central idea of the universes colliding is never fully convincing, nor – it must be said – fully understood. Too much paint is thrown at the canvas, resulting in an admirable but wasted attempt.

Such a problem is seemingly corrected in later titles set within this universe, with concentration provided on particular characters (such as Marvel 1602: Fantastick Four). But the Worm will not be tempted to return for a second bite.

Buy it here

#252 Herland (1915)

Author: Charlotte Perkins Gilman
Title: Herland
Genre: Science Fiction
Year: 1915
Pages: 150
Origin: read on the Kindle
Nod Rating: 5 nods out of 5

 

Some of the greatest reads are those stumbled upon by wonderful accident. Many moons ago the Worm had the pleasure of taking a university module on dystopian fiction; it involved the novels of George Orwell, Margaret Atwood and Angela Carter, whilst also including movies including the big hit The Matrix. In particular, the book of Atwood and Carter, dealing with issues of feminism, led the Worm to come across a tatty copy of Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s Herland in the library. It was consumed in a flash, and – in the spirit of all great reads – changed the philosophy of its reader.

Years later the Worm decided to return to Charlotte Perkins Gilman. In the past year her rousing short story – The Yellow Wallpaper – was read and enjoyed, but it failed to hit the highs of this earlier novel. Allow the Worm to outline the plot: three male adventurers come across a lost and forgotten land populated only by women. They first travel to the land firmly believing that they will conquer the females, and each of them – according to their profession – has a particular idea of femininity. Terry is the macho one of the trio and the man who has the luck with the ladies back home in America; his stance is shown in his words: ‘You’ll see… I’ll get solid with them all – and play one bunch against another. I’ll get myself elected king in no time – whew!’ Jeff, meanwhile, upholds female virtue, idolising their innocence. Vandyck, the novel’s narrator and affirmed “sociologist” is the middle-ground between these values and notions, leading the way for the demolition of these ideas as the novel progresses. The gender attributes they believed definite and carved in stone are revealed to be interchangeable. Rather than pathetic whelps the women of Herland hold an array of “masculine” qualities (such as intelligence and strength) whilst also being loving mothers.

Perkins Gilman has great fun in putting the male characters into the submissive position (being held prisoner after entering Herland). All of this leads Vandyck to reflect: ‘This led my very promptly to the conviction that those “feminine charms” we are so fond of are not feminine at all, but merely reflected masculinity – developed to please us because they had to please us.’

All of this is shown to illustrate the waging battle of the contemporary period in which the novel was written. 1915 saw the suffragette movement in the western world in full flow; Perkins Gilman was a vocal campaigner of this cause, putting the Sci-Fi genre to great effect. Although with heavy strands of socialism – then untainted by the later Soviet experiment- Herland is a novel that fights for what has been labelled “first wave feminism”: the recognition that females are equal with males and should be treated so in society.

Herland is an important novel: a great read that truly does change perceptions. The mystery is how it was forgotten for so long. The Worm utterly endorses it to the full maximum of 5 nods in order to correct – in a very small way – the mistreatment of Perkins Gilman’s interesting and intriguing legacy.

Buy it here

#251 Young Henry (2011)

Author: Robert Hutchinson
Title: Young Henry
Genre: History
Year: 2011
Pages: 330
Origin: bought from the Works
Nod Rating: 2 nods out of 5

 

Henry VIII remains a popular figure, both for historians and readers of history and fiction. It is easy to see why: a large man in both stature and life, full of drama and explosive events that include death and intrigue. Few English monarchs can rival him in terms of theatrics. Therefore, he is a figure – alongside his daughter, Elizabeth – in which historians can find a warm home. Robert Hutchinson is another one who has followed a well worn road.

The book’s intention is to chart an outline to the rise of power of the young Henry. Much information is given on Henry’s childhood: living with his mother and sisters, the death of his older brother, and then the coming to the throne on the death of his father in 1509 when in his eighteenth year. As a fully paid up member of the Tudor Enthusiasts, Hutchinson does an adequate job of painting a picture of those times in the early years of the sixteenth century.

However, there is little in terms of a clear structure. The reader is invited to ramble through Henry’s childhood, ambling through various areas of early Tudor life with no real force; all before being bolted headlong into the political intrigue of Henry’s early years as king. The concluding chapters do not feel like any real conclusion at all, with various characters foisted on the reader with no end goal in sight. Perhaps the reason for this lies in the intention of the book: where does the historian cut the dividing line between Henry’s younger years and those of his elder self? Furthermore, for the reader, the drama comes in full force in those latter years, particularly from 1530 onwards.

Young Henry is a book that strives to bring the younger prince to life. But the truth is that this period has been done to death by many historians; in many cases, it has been achieved with greater success. Therefore, there is little need in anyone picking up a copy of Hutchinson’s book in a hurry.