onsdag 27 maj 2015

Reasons to be cheerful

Where did May go? Weather-wise and workload-wise, it has been more like a grey September than the height of spring. Furthermore, my Downton withdrawal symptoms have reached the point where watching old episodes only makes the agony worse. But it's wrong to be glum when there are quite a few things to be happy about.

Firstly, Sweden won Eurovision! I'm extra glad as I have a soft spot for the singer Måns Zelmerlöw, who comes from my neck of the woods (but no, we're not acquainted). He's a great performer and, as various interviews have proved, relentlessly charming under pressure. True, he has sung catchier tunes than "Heroes" - if you ever hear "Cara Mia", you won't be able to get it out of your head for a week - but it's a good, solid song for all that. And girls, just so you know - Måns isn't gay, or wasn't last time I looked in a gossip mag, anyway.

Commiserations to the Brits, but I'm afraid "I'm Still In Love With You" had two flaws that are absolute Eurovision poison - it was arch and contrived. Try sincerity next time. If it's any consolation to the British (and knowing them, it will be) France and Germany did even worse - Germany and the hosting country Austria both got nul points. In Germany's case, the failure was deserved, though I still feel sorry for the German singer who, by virtue of being just the runner-up in the national competition (the winner shamefully dropped out), was put in what Victorian novels would call a "false position". There was nothing wrong with France's power ballad, however, which only proves that yes, Eurovision can be unfair. At least the points are decided by telephone voting and juries now, which should be good news for those quite-nice-but-not-winner-songs.

A second reason for happiness is the rumours about a new costume drama on BBC, featuring Dickens characters - yes, characters from different Dickens novels interacting with each other! Does this mean that there are more people out there who spend their time constructing dream scenarios where, say, Ralph Nickleby and Miss Havisham discuss love and betrayal or Carker, as member of a special Dickensian villain club, tries to chat up Miss Wade while being served drinks by Littimer? OK, so other people's Dickens fantasy scenarios may be a little less villain-populated than that, but it's immensely cheering all the same that I'm not alone harbouring thoughts like these. I'm not certain that this series will have a very large audience, but the audience it does have - including me - is sure to love it. Most of us will feel a pang of envy towards the lucky scriptwriter, though. I've never forgiven the BBC for axing their Dombey and Son adaptation, but if Carker makes an appearance in this series, I will at least consider it.

Meanwhile, I hear ITV will broadcast a series about the early life of Queen Victoria. What with the TV series Victoria and Albert and, later, the film The Young Victoria, this is not untrodden ground in costume-drama land. It sounds promising even so, especially as the scriptwriter is Daisy Goodwin, who wrote the page-turning historical novels My Last Duchess and The Fortune Hunter. It appears there will be life after Downton. Maybe.

söndag 10 maj 2015

Spring books

Why is spring such a difficult blog-writing month? I've been looking back at previous springs, and I wasn't over-zealous with the blog posts then either. What's strange is that there should be material enough. I've read my fair share of books, for instance. There's just not that much to say about them to fill up a whole blog post - or (more likely) I'm too lazy to think of something. A short summary of the few reflections I did have will have to do, then.

The Fashion in Shrouds by Margery Allingham I read Allingham occasionally, more for the atmosphere than the crime stories. This one was big on atmosphere, set in the world of fashion with a notorious actress thrown in. It was enjoyable, though I'm not sure I'll ever care to reread it. One thing that shocks the modern reader is how Allingham's detective Campion's sister Valentine meekly decides to marry her errant beau after he has recovered from a bout of infatuation for the already mentioned actress. He doesn't apologise. ("I can't honestly say that I regret the experience. That woman has maturing properties.") What's more, his proposal is boorish in the extreme. "Will you marry me and give up to me your independence, the enthusiasm which you give your career, your time and your thought? That's my proposition. It's not a very good one, is it?" No, now you come to mention it, old chap, it isn't. Still Valentine, an intelligent, successful and creative fashion designer, says "Yes".

Now, given that the book was first published in 1938, is it anachronistic to mind this? Of course a woman would normally give up work then, assuming she had any, the moment she got married. Then again, perhaps there were plenty of people around who would have found Valentine's beau's proposal boorish even in 1938. Perhaps it's meant to be boorish. Perhaps Allingham, like a modern author might, is making Valentine's sacrifice so explicit in order to make a point about the nature of love. Old values and prejudices in old novels are always a challenge. One is tempted to be patronising either by handing out a general amnesty against sexism and the like because "people didn't know better then", or on the other hand by tut-tutting and measuring authors and characters from another time with modern yardsticks that would have bewildered them. It's difficult to know what to do. After all, some things are just plain wrong, and you would expect a reasonably intelligent individual from any age to recognise it.

Awful Swedish historical novel which shall be nameless  Now and again, I feel guilty about not reading more books in the Swedish language and set out to remedy this, mostly with some extremely light-weight read. I was unlucky the last time I tried. Ironically, the genre and general plot couldn't have been more right for me. It was a bodice-ripper set in late 18th century Stockholm involving Swedish nobility, star-crossed lovers, a forced engagement, balls, opera visits and even an English gentleman fiancé for the troubled heroine, who still loves her Swedish childhood sweetheart. Promising, wouldn't you say? But the plot is full of holes, the characters behave like children, and it is badly written. I always thought I was easy to please when it comes to Swedish prose style, but maybe it's the other way around and I'm actually more sensitive when it comes to clichés and unfortunate phrases in my mother tongue. Would I have reacted to a sentence like "Thank goodness for good friends, he gabbled silently to himself" in English? Well, I did in its Swedish version. What does the author mean by "gabbled"? The character's just making a simple statement of fact. You can't use a verb like "gabble" just to show that you don't like the person speaking, can you?

An Unsuitable Job for a Woman by P.D. James A well-written crime novel with a likeable heroine and set mostly in Cambridge. Could it be any better? We-ell... Funnily enough, I still prefer Christie to all the more recent crime writers I've tried, including P.D. James, and this time around I think I'm close to an answer why. I believe in Christie's murderers. I can see why the murders happen, and why they happen the way they do. James wrote with verve and wisdom, but she is too far distanced from the murderer's mind. We're left on the outside, still bewildered as to why a murder had to happen exactly then and exactly in that manner. And if you don't understand what's in the murderer's mind, then an important point with a crime novel is lost. Still, this is a readable book: Cordelia Gray is a resourceful heroine, and Dalgliesh makes an endearing appearance at the end.

Now, these comparatively slim three novels are not the only thing I've read all spring, but this will have to do for now. I might need the rest for another blog post later on.