Book review: The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall
I had been intending to read The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall for years and I recently spent a few months making slow progress through this classic of lesbian fiction. As it’s Pride Month, this seemed like a good book to pick out from my read pile to write a longer review. First published in 1928, this is both very much of its time (in style) while being very ahead of its time (in content).
It’s the story of Stephen Gordon, a woman raised in all the comforts of a large country estate, the only child of a doting father who teaches her to ride, hunt, study and fence. It’s a life of privilege and would not be out of place in a Jane Austen novel, except for the repeated reservations of Stephen’s mother and neighbours about raising a girl quite so much like a boy.
When it gradually becomes clear in her teens and early 20s that Stephen is attracted to women, her father and her tutor Puddle understand before she does and try to protect her, while her mother is disgusted. The rest of her life follows a similar pattern of finding people who accept her and people who hate her.
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When my book club put out its call a few months ago for book suggestions on the theme of gender, I felt that science fiction could be a good angle from which to explore this topic but I feared that might put off some of the group. I needn’t have feared. Not only was my suggestion of The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K Le Guin the vote winner for our March meeting, it was also a really well attended (virtual) meet-up and a very fruitful, lively discussion. I should never have doubted them.
After tearing through books in the first half of January, I decided it was a good time for a big book and Rohinton Mistry’s epic A Fine Balance certainly fit that bill.
The book club at work picked Around the World in 80 Trains by
A very long time ago (17/18 years, to be less vague) I used to regularly browse the sales boxes at Blackwell Bookshop in Oxford. I had recently graduated, was working in my first publishing job, and was reading everything I could. I bought books in large quantities, anything that caught my eye, and in that way discovered some amazing authors (and of course some duds). One of my discoveries was a book called I, the Divine by
I’ve had Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi on my TBR for a few years and I had put off reading it from fear that it would be sad or tough. I shouldn’t have worried. While it deals with tough subjects and has sad moments, it is also a highly enjoyable read with a lot of joy in its pages.
I spent six months reading Fire: the Unexpurgated Diaries 1934–1937 by Anaïs Nin, which is just one volume of Nin’s massive collection of diaries. I kept the chunky tome on my bedside table, reading a few pages at a time. It took me a while (clearly) to get into the flow of it and I am still torn as to whether I want to hunt down the several other books that would complete the story.