In which I have carpal tunnel syndrome
I am in Washington DC, kicking up my heels at the RWA national conference. Regular posting will resume on July 21. This entry was originally posted on the Blog A Go-Go March 14, 2008.
But it is totally worth it. I've been reading The Mitfords: Letters Between Six Sisters and it is HEAVY. I just put it on my digital bathroom scale and this thing weighs THREE POUNDS. (That's half a pound less than the state crown the Queen wears to the opening of Parliament each year. And yes, I did put the book on my head to see how heavy that actually is. My neck nearly snapped from the strain, so all I can say is either I am totally unsuited to royal life or the Queen has the neck strength of a plow horse. Probably both.) Anyway, I'm really only comfortable reading this book while lying down, my knees bent to make a bookrest. Unfortunately, it's fabulous, which means I'm going to have to keep at it until I'm a broken woman.
Most books about the Mitford sisters are good, simply because the subject matter is endlessly fascinating. Six beautiful, talented, witty women with vastly different interests and no end of courage and determination, moving amongst the most intriguing figures of the 20th century--it's a recipe for good fiction, except nobody would believe the Mitfords could possibly exist if someone had invented them. (Any time someone questions the eccentricity and spirit of the Marches, I always think, "Yes, but clearly you're not familiar with the Mitfords. The Marches are TAME housecats by comparison." I mean, Unity Mitford was a debutante who curtseyed at the English court and then took tea with HITLER, for heaven's sake. And even Pamela, the least notorious of the sisters, was living independently and running her brother-in-law's home farm when she was barely out of the schoolroom.)
I've enjoyed the biographies I've read about them, but hearing them speak to one another in their own words is much more immediate and revealing. The collection was edited by Diana Mitford's daughter-in-law, Charlotte Mosley, and she did a divine job. Not only are the letters well-chosen, she has designated a symbol for each sister--a hammer and sickle for Jessica, a swastika for Unity, a quill for Nancy, etc. These symbols are bulleted at the top of each letter as a quick reminder of which sister the sender was. FABULOUS. Every editor of every collection of letters EVER should make note of this.
At eight hundred pages, the book is certainly not light reading, but it is compelling, and it is the perfect book to dip in and out of--if you can bear to put it down in the first place.
But it is totally worth it. I've been reading The Mitfords: Letters Between Six Sisters and it is HEAVY. I just put it on my digital bathroom scale and this thing weighs THREE POUNDS. (That's half a pound less than the state crown the Queen wears to the opening of Parliament each year. And yes, I did put the book on my head to see how heavy that actually is. My neck nearly snapped from the strain, so all I can say is either I am totally unsuited to royal life or the Queen has the neck strength of a plow horse. Probably both.) Anyway, I'm really only comfortable reading this book while lying down, my knees bent to make a bookrest. Unfortunately, it's fabulous, which means I'm going to have to keep at it until I'm a broken woman.
Most books about the Mitford sisters are good, simply because the subject matter is endlessly fascinating. Six beautiful, talented, witty women with vastly different interests and no end of courage and determination, moving amongst the most intriguing figures of the 20th century--it's a recipe for good fiction, except nobody would believe the Mitfords could possibly exist if someone had invented them. (Any time someone questions the eccentricity and spirit of the Marches, I always think, "Yes, but clearly you're not familiar with the Mitfords. The Marches are TAME housecats by comparison." I mean, Unity Mitford was a debutante who curtseyed at the English court and then took tea with HITLER, for heaven's sake. And even Pamela, the least notorious of the sisters, was living independently and running her brother-in-law's home farm when she was barely out of the schoolroom.)
I've enjoyed the biographies I've read about them, but hearing them speak to one another in their own words is much more immediate and revealing. The collection was edited by Diana Mitford's daughter-in-law, Charlotte Mosley, and she did a divine job. Not only are the letters well-chosen, she has designated a symbol for each sister--a hammer and sickle for Jessica, a swastika for Unity, a quill for Nancy, etc. These symbols are bulleted at the top of each letter as a quick reminder of which sister the sender was. FABULOUS. Every editor of every collection of letters EVER should make note of this.
At eight hundred pages, the book is certainly not light reading, but it is compelling, and it is the perfect book to dip in and out of--if you can bear to put it down in the first place.
Labels: books
posted by deanna at
6:28 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home