Introductive passage:

In 1898 a struggling author named Morgan Robertson concocted a novel about a fabulous Atlantic liner, far larger than any that had ever been built. Robertson loaded his ship with rich and complacent people and then wrecked it one cold April night on an iceberg. This somehow showed the futility of everything and, in fact, the book was called Futility when it appeared that year, published by the firm of M.F. Mansfield.

Fourteen years later a British shipping company named the White Star Line built a steamer remarkably like the one in Robertson’s novel. The new liner was 66,000 tons displacement; Robertson’s was 70,000 tons. The real ship was 882.5 feet long; the fictional one was 800 feet. Both vessels were triple screw and could make 24-5 knots. Both could carry about 3,000 people, and both had enough lifeboats for only a fraction of this number. But then, this didn’t seem to matter because both were labelled ‘unsinkable’.

On 10 April 1912 the real ship left Southampton on her maiden voyage to New York. Her cargo included a priceless copy of “The Rubáiyát” of Omar Khayyám and a list of passengers collectively worth 250 million dollars. On her way over she too struck an iceberg and went down on a cold April night.

Robertson called his ship the Titan; the White Star Line called its ship Titanic. This is the story of her last night.

***

Everyone has seen the movie. And picking up the book, I wasn’t sure it would capture the essence of the event…the feelings and surrounding atmosphere, but it did. Sometimes, a book can fall flat in those areas… especially one that is written, not as fiction, but a true story account. This is not the case hear. Sometimes I could literally feel as if I was experiencing the whole night with the people who were there. And it undoubtedly shed some light over how the human memory works when it comes to traumatic events… no memory is like another, so therefore it is even more astounding that Walter Lord managed to capture a coherent story.

***

There is this romantized sheet over this era, of honorary behaviour coupled with this naïve idea of a ship being ‘unsinkable’. And that is one of the most dangerous things to assume, that something is completely safe. Because it never is. And as soon as you start believing that nothing can go wrong, it usually does. Sure it was a lot of panic among many of the people, and due to class restrictions, some were treated unfair by today’s standard, but I felt genuinly proud and impressed by the first class men who, as Walter Lord puts it, carry off these little gestures of chivalry. And these were real men. Not knights in shining armour glamourized through centuries of retelling.

***

Notable passages

Until now the Titanic had been a picnic.

Then came that thud…the grinding, tearing sound…the telegraphs ringing wildly…the watertight doors crashing down.

Over fifty-nine years old, he was retiring after this trip. Might even have done it sooner, but he traditionally took the White Star ships on their maiden voyages. Only six years before, when he brought over the brand-new Adriatic, he remarked: ‘I cannot imagine any condition which would cause a ship to founder. I cannot conceive of any vital disaster happening to this vessel. Modern shipbuilding has gone beyond that.’ Now he stood on the bridge of a liner twice as big – twice as safe – and the builder told him it couldn’t float.

Everybody said so. When Mrs Albert Caldwell was watching the deck hands carry up luggage at Southampton, she had asked one of them, ‘Is this ship really non-sinkable?’ ‘Yes, lady,’ he answered. ‘God Himself could not sink this ship.’

This was the era when gentlemen formally offered their services to ‘unprotected ladies’ at the start of an Atlantic voyage. Tonight the courtesy came in handy.

The night was a magnificent confirmation of ‘women and children first’, yet somehow the loss rate was higher for third-class children than first-class men.

These men on the Titanic had a touch – there was something about Ben Guggenheim changing to evening dress…about Howard Case flicking his cigarette as he waved to Mrs Graham…or even about Colonel Gracie panting along the decks, gallantly if ineffectually searching for Mrs Candee. Today nobody could carry off these little gestures of chivalry, but they did that night.

Introductive passage:

Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically. The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build up new little habitats, to have new little hopes. It is rather hard work: there is now no smooth road into the future: but we go round, or scramble over the obstacles. We’ve got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.

***

Lade Chatterley’s Lover is a book about adultery, and in some way also lost love… and the search for happiness in a post war era. It is one of the classics that you have to read, but to me, it didn’t quite fulfil my expectations… I’m not even sure what my expectations were.

***

Even though it was banned due to supposed obscenity, I found myself more intrigued by the surroundings of the story and the in some way the sub plots of subject discussions happening in-between Lady Chatterley’s (in this age) rather lame escapades. To be frank.

***

What I think D.H. Lawrence successfully captured, was the culture and society’s view on class distinctions. Clifford were painted like a “true” high class society person, and his prejudices shine through in the many interactions with servants and town folks. This is also evident in his relationship with Lady Chatterley… and it comes very evident how important it is, for example, for a man of his standard to have an heir. This is a key point in this novel, I think. Perhaps the novel broke for me when, a few chapters in, the stand point for Lady Chatterley’s choices changed from the goal of acquiring love and intimacy to having a child. I can well understand why some might want a child very much, but I can’t see how anyone would have that as their goal over a loving relationship. It all reminded me of today… and it is not all different. I remember seeing an American talk show about young teenagers having sex with various guys with the only goal of raising their children together… childish behaviour in a way, how one always wanted to do everything with ones’ best friend. Coming to think of it, I also believe I saw a Bones episode with this plot. Anyway, it left me with no satisfaction of really finishing the novel – though I ultimately did, as part of the Read-A-Thon last Saturday.

***

The parts that grabbed me most were more the historical retelling of the culture and subject matters that were discussed between Clifford and his acquaintances.

***

Notable passages

Connie and he were attached to one another, in the aloof modern way.  He was much too hurt in himself, the great shock of his maiming, to be easy and flippant. He was a hurt thing. And as such Connie stuck to him passionately.

For Connie had adopted the standard of the young: what there was in the moment was everything.

The bitch-goddess, as she is called, of Success roamed, snarling and protective, round the half-humble, half-defiant Michaelis’s heels, and intimidated Clifford completely: for he wanted to prostitute himself to the bitch-goddess Success also, if only she would have him.

There’s lots of good fish in the sea… maybe… but the vast masses seem to be mackerel and herring, and if you’re not mackerel or herring yourself, you are likely to find very few good fish in the sea.

It was fun. Instead of men kissing you, and touching you with their bodies, they revealed their minds to you.

We think we’re gods… men like gods! It’s just the same as Bolshevism. One has to be human, and have a heart and a penis, if one is going to escape being either god or a Bolshevist…for they are the same thing: they’re both too good to be true.

Connie thought, how extremely like all the rest of the classes the lower classes sounded. Just the same thing over again, Tevershall or Mayfair or Kensington. There was only one class nowadays: moneyboys. The moneyboy and moneygirl, the only difference was how much you’d got, and how much you wanted.

All vulnerable things must perish under the rolling and running of iron.

Despite surprise visits and lovely weather outside this Saturday, my first go at Read-A-Thon has worked really well (!). In total I managed to squeeze in nine hours of reading!

1. Which hour was most daunting for you?

I found the 4^th hour to be the most daunting for me, but that was perhaps more connected to the book I was reading rather than other circumstances.

***

2. Could you list a few high-interest books that you think could keep a Reader engaged for next year?

Well, as it happens I only got through two books this time around. But I can really recommend Walter Lords’ A Night to Remember, a historical retelling of Titanics’ voyage.

***

3. Do you have any suggestions for how to improve the Read-A-Thon next year?

Since I wasn’t that active in the social aspects of the event this year, I don’t have any comments. More than that I’m looking forward to it again!

***

4. What do you think worked really well in this year’s Read-A-Thon?

-

***

5. How many books did you read?

I read two books.

***

6. What were the names of the books you read?

(1) Lady Chatterley’s Lover by D.H. Lawrence and (2) A Night to Remember by Walter Lord

***

7. Which book did you enjoy most?

I enjoyed A Night to Remember the most of the two. Walter Lord really managed to capture the story of Titanic, and I felt at times like I was really there experiencing it all. I can truly understand why the book was turned into a motion picture.

***

8. Which did you enjoy least?

Lady Chatterley’s Lover at times was quite interesting. And the language was very inviting, but at times it felt like D.H. Lawrence were trying to pull in all kinds of subjects for discussion in-between the main story line that to me felt unnecessary.

***

9. If you were a Cheerleader, do you have any advice for next year’s Cheerleaders?

-

***

10. How likely are you to participate in the Read-A-Thon again? What role would you be likely to take next time?

I will definitely be looking out for the next Read-A-Thon, and I regret not being able to be as active in this round as I’d planned. When next I participate, I will keep with the role of “Reading”.

***

In the following week I will be writing up my thoughts of the individual books in separate posts. Stay tuned :)

It is the day before Dewey’s Read-a-Thon coming along tomorrow and going for 24 Hours straight! There were a sudden change of location for my participation, hence it turns out I got to go for England on work sooner than expected. So I’ll be doing this on GMT +1 instead of +2 (summer time). :)

***

And as unexpected things goes… I have a colleague and friend flying over today as well! So I am unsure of how much reading I can squeeze in tomorrow without making her sulk in the apartment her first day here in England. We’ll see how things goes. Since my internet access is a little sporadic, I am not planning on writing any updates during the 24 Hours as of now, but rather having one big Round-Up on Sunday or Monday depending on … well life.

***

My Read-A-Thon List:

Vinterstorm by Margit Sandemo (Legend of the Ice People #10)

Blodshämnd by Margit Sandemo (Legend of the Ice People #11)

Lady Chatterley’s Lover by H.C. Lawrence

A Night to Remember by Walter Lord

(Source: Joddler.se)

***

I’m currently rereading The Legend of The Ice People, a 47 book series by the Norwegian author Margit Sandemo. The story follows a cursed family line from the 16^th century when the black death and the plague ravished through Norway. The first book brings you to meet Silje, a 16 year old girl walking through the streets of Trondheim, surviving on moldy stale bread thrown from the windows of the few still charitable.

The story then continues with Silje stumbling upon a dark, beastly man in the woods by the fire of burning corpses outside the city walls. And there starts the story of Silje and Tengel.

***

I remember when I was in my lower teens. My father girlfriend at the time had shelves and shelves of books. I envied her collection, and it was her passion for books that got me to spend my entire allowance running through second-hand bookshops all over Gothenburg (I suppose my father was happy in a way that I spent it on books rather than other things). She was a passionate collector of Stephen King, and it was Stephen Kings’ The Talisman (Link to Amazon) that was the first “adult” fiction book I read. I loved it. I followed that experience up by reading other books by King, and thus I had entered the realm of horror reading. We worked well together, she and I. We clicked on a level that I can only compare to as real friendship. And to complement the books, we also watched a number of Stephen King adapted films, some better than others.

***

I don’t remember me contemplating it very much at the time (and today I can’t see a reason to), but some might find it strange that a fan of horror fiction also love the field of historical/romantic novels. At the time, Margit Sandemos’ books for The Legend of The Ice People was only available through book club membership. Two books a month, 47 books total.

They sat there on the shelf with their bright blue jackets, and prints of paintings on the front depicting the theme of each book. I remember I felt discouraged by the thought of reading the whole series at the time. I’ve never been one of those quick readers, I love to take my time and try to understand what I’m reading, nonetheless remember what I’ve read. Still, after reading a book I’m not the person to remember details either. I suppose I live in the moment. I often find myself reacting to sentences and passages as I read them if they stand out.

***

One of the reasons I love Margit Sandemos’ writing is probably because it is so light. It’s easy to understand, and it just flows over the pages. I rarely have to stop, but simply enjoy every moment. What the series is about, is really about the family, relationships and struggles of the curse that is put on one from each generation in the line. The story is highly integrated to the historical events happening in Norway and Scandinavia during these years – which is quite an overwhelming time, the 16^th century. Norway is under the governing of Denmark, and war is raging in Germany in the first 10 books of the series. Every book centers on one (or two) person(s) of the family and what they go through in finding peace and loving relations. Margit Sandemo captivates with her descriptions of characters and settings in a way I rarely find. I don’t know why but I imagine Jane Austens’ work to be similar in style, perhaps I will find out through reading some of her works that are currently on my Classics list.

***

This post was supposed to focus around Silje and Tengel, and the great love between them that sets the standard for the rest of the series. But so happens I trailed off, I will have to get back to them another time.