Keeping Up With The Penguins

Reviews For The Would-Be Booklover

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14 Great Bookstagram Accounts You Should Really Be Following

Guess what, Keeper-Upperers? Not only is Keeping Up With The Penguins one year old now, but so is the Keeping Up With The Penguins Instagram! When I started this blog, I’d heard about the #bookstagram phenomenon, but I had no idea what a wonderful, warm, and welcoming community I’d find there. I set up an account, and started posting photos of the books I was reading and reviewing, and it fast became one of my favourite parts of this project. I’m no great shakes at photography, I don’t go All-Out Extra with props and fairylights and all that business, but that’s the beauty of #bookstagram – it’s not about the bells and whistles, it’s about the books! I’ve “met” some truly fantastic people over the last year through the platform, and I thought today I’d share a short list of some of the best bookstagram accounts you really should be following.

14 Great Bookstagrammers You Really Should Be Following - Text Overlaid on Image of Phone with Instagram Logo on Screen - Keeping Up With The Penguins

@alexs.bookgram

Alex describes herself as an “amateur book reviewer” in her bio, but her feed shows she is a definite pro! She’s got gorgeous bookish photos in all kinds of locations, and every time I scroll through I find something new to add to my TBR. You can check out her account here, and her book blog here.

@jane.read.next

I “met” Jane in the early days of sharing on Instagram, and her feed fast became one of my all-time favourites. She’s a fellow Aussie, a veteran of the publishing industry, and there’s a lot of crossover in our tastes! I’ve loved many of the books she recommended. Also, now and then, she’ll share photos of her gorgeous doggos – the easiest way to win me over! Check out her account here, and her book blog here.

@yumyumicecream

Her guardian angel is Jack Kerouac with a recent assist from Lorrie Moore. She would love to put the novels of John Darnielle into the hands of anyone who has ever ached or cried from loneliness. And she’s one of my favourite bookstagrammers! Her feed is filled with gorgeous books, almost always accompanied by a coffee that makes my mouth water or some other delicious treat. Check out her account here.

@bookkissed

Aysha is a literature student, and it shows in her feed: a gorgeous varied collection of books from every genre and period (though I do notice she has a particular affinity for Stephen King and Agatha Christie, they feature often!). She posts beautiful and creative book stacks and snaps of what (and where) she’s reading – always a joy to see! Check out her account here.

@sasha_hawkins

Sasha loves reading all kinds of books, and at the moment she’s focused on the classics. She wants to spread the word that there’s a classic for everyone, and that our options go beyond the white male-dominated literary canon (a girl after my own heart!). She’s a sucker for beautiful books – but aren’t we all? I love her collection. Check out her account here and follow her on Goodreads here.

@reading.the.classics

Helena is one impressive lady! She’s a homeschool mum of six (count ’em! including a newborn!), living in Northern Ireland, reading stacks of books, doing the #ElizabethGaskell2019 challenge, and still she finds time to share gorgeous photos of the classics (mostly) on Instagram. I drool over her collection, it’s absolutely stunning. Check out her account here.

@rooreads

Stephanie Berg is a Chicago-based bookstagrammer with a feed that slays! I’ve discovered lots of new literary fiction and gorgeous editions (seriously spectacular cover art, where does she find them?!) through her account. She’s currently a @pageonebooks ambassador, and you can find her account here, and follow her on Goodreads here.

@classicsandcaffeine

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My #bestnine of 2018 is dominated by Orwell, Conrad, and Hardy. And i’m happy to say i’m far from done reading these incredible authors. Their writings have had great impacts on me. George Orwell reminded me that my political rights is important and how i use them can very much affect my personal life, and that i must never let my fear overrule compassion and justice. Thomas Hardy has fascinated me ever since i first read Tess at least 10 years ago. I think Hardy understood women and his writing was subtly (or maybe not so subtly?) critical of patriarchy. And Joseph Conrad. Oh Conrad, easily my new favourite author. Heart of Darkness is a tale that will never finish what it’s saying. ☕️ I don’t have any specific target/goal for my reading life for the new year, but i’d love to hear yours. Do share what you’re up to reading wise for 2019. #bestninebookstagram #georgeorwell #1984 #thomashardy #thewoodlanders #josephconrad #heartofdarkness #edithwharton #theageofinnocence #charlesdickens #olivertwist #classicliterature #literature #penguinenglishlibrary #oxfordworldsclassics #wordsworthclassics #bookstagram #bookstagrammer #bookstagramindonesia #bookreview #igreads #readersofinstagram

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I’ll bet you can tell from her handle – classics AND caffeine! – that Ester is truly awesome. She’s based in Indonesia, and she shares a lot of classics and modern classics worth reading. She’s on a little hiatus at the moment, hopefully she’ll be back soon to share more bookish goodness with us! You can still check out her account here.

@book_trails

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"Odors have a power of persuasion stronger than that of words, appearances, emotions, or will. The persuasive power of an odor cannot be fended off, it enters into us like breath into our lungs, it fills us up, imbues us totally. There is no remedy for it." . . An overwhelming and intriguing story. I like how original the concept of this story and let's be honest the cover is really gorgeous it's one of my favorite book cover ever! So this novel is about Grenouille who is an orphan, he's obsessed with perfumes and it's ability to control people. His obsession led to murder as he experiment with different scents. I won't elaborate more cuz I know some of you haven't read this novel and I don't want to spoil the story. . . QOTD: Do you read books by german or any foreign authors? I love reading books by different foreign authors, I have some of French, Japanese, Korean, Taiwanese, German and Arab authors. If you want to recommend me some of your favorite foreign author then please do!😍

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Fattyma loves books and photography, so bookstagram is her true home! And we are so lucky to have her, my eyeballs turn into hearts whenever I look at her posts. She reads all kinds of books – classics, best sellers, fantasy, mystery, young adult, and more – and her photos are incredible. Check out her account here and follow her on Goodreads here.

@spinesvines

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#MeetTheBookstagrammer⁣ 10 Things About Me⁣ ⁣ Well let me begin by stating the obvious— I love books (spines) & wine (vines). This is doesn’t count towards the ten because it’s a well known fact. ⁣😊 ⁣ ✨ I’m usually reading three books at once in three different ways — an audiobook for my commute, a book on my kindle which I keep in my bag and a physical book on my nightstand. ⁣ ⁣ ✨ I created the #diversespines hashtag to shine the light on women authors of color. ⁣ ⁣ ✨ I’m the co-founder/co-moderator of @litonhst bookclub⁣ ⁣ ✨ I’m a major foodie! I love to eat 😋⁣ ⁣ ✨ I love to travel (no cruises for me🙅🏽‍♀️) especially outside of the U.S. Some of my favorite places are France, England, Italy, Greece, Jamaica and Turks & Caicos. ⁣ ⁣ ✨ When I’m not reading, I’m watching NCIS, Chicago P.D., Blue Bloods & re-runs of Law & Order Criminal Intent. I love a good crime drama. ⁣ ⁣ ✨ I grew up a proud military brat living in many places but the highlights were Japan and Hawaii. I actually spent my freshman and sophomore years of high school in Hawaii. ⁣ ⁣ ✨ I’m a proud graduate of The University of Tennessee, Knoxville ⁣#VFL ⁣ ✨ IRL I’m a project manager for the federal government and one my greatest accomplishments was being the Chief of Staff to the 2016 Federal Transition Coordinator. What does that mean— we oversee and provide support for presidential elections and facilitate the peaceful transition of authority between the incoming and outgoing administrations. ⁣ ⁣ ✨ Last but not least, I’m a MOM! I have two young adults, a 24 year old daughter & a 22 year old son. ⁣ .⁣ .⁣ 📸 credit: @msbszenlife .⁣ .⁣ 📚🍷⁣ #spinesvines #books #wine #bookstagrammer #diversebooks #blogger #booklover #bibliophile #ilovebooks #ilovewine

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I must admit, I’m a little bit a lot in awe of Jamise. She’s taken her passion for books (spines) and wine (vines), and turned it into not only this beautiful bookstagram account, but also @diversespines – a book club initiative that highlights women writers of colour and encourages us all to read more diversely. She’s doing incredible work, and I love it! Check out her account here, and more of her stuff here.

@the.imperfect.library

Ally is another fantastic Aussie bookstagrammer, and I love seeing what she’s reading (in hard copy and in audio) in her bio. She’s focused on the classics, women’s literature, and mental health – a trifecta of awesomeness in her feed! She also has a very adorable new kitty… Check out her account here.

@bookish.behavior

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Happy #ReadABookDay everyone! Thought I’d start this post with the quote below. . . “Reading makes immigrants of us all. It takes us away from home, but more important, it finds homes for us everywhere.” — Jean Rhys . Whether you’re reading a book about someone in a different part of your own state, your own country, or another country altogether, reading has a capacity to showcase how something that looks different, might not be all that different after all. . Part of what’s driven my diverse reading these past few years, is how often I find myself either relating to the story or gaining an understanding I didn’t know I needed. The world becomes smaller. The capacity for understanding increases. . Pictured are a few books that span an experience different from mine, but ones that I can’t wait to read! (Minus Erotic Stories – which I’ve already read and is AMAZE – and everyone should read!) . . 🌎 Next Year In Havana – a love story set within the political unrest in Cuba 🌍 Americanah – 2 Nigerians making their way in the US/UK after leaving military-ruled Nigeria 🌏 An Unrestored Woman – short stories about the establishment of the India/Pakistan borders and the ensuing refugee crisis 🌎 Educated – memoir of a girl who was kept out of school by her survivalist family and goes on to earn a PhD 🌏 Pachinko – a sweeping tale of an exiled Korean family fighting to make their way in Japan . Have you read any of these? What are some books that have stuck with you long after you read it? Let’s chat!

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If I’m ever worried that I’m missing out on some amazing diverse reads, I head straight for Poonam’s feed, because it is chockers with amazing recommendations and gorgeous photos! The reviews in her captions always give amazing insights into what’s worth reading and why, she is a must-follow for every booklover. Check out her account here.

@happinessisreading

What is it about the combination of books and coffee that makes for such great bookstagram feeds? Ritika is another caffeinated booklover, and she shares her incredible collection of literary fiction, non-fiction, modern classics, and more. I’ve spotted so many of my favourites in her gorgeous photographs. Check out her account here.

@vincereview

I actually came to Paula’s bookstagram through her blog, where she posts amazing and insightful reviews of books old and new, but whichever way you find her, you’re going to want to mash that follow button! She’s a former author and English student, and (like me!) she’s seeking to read classics, best sellers, and other books to discover for herself what they’re like, instead of relying on the opinions of self-professed experts. Her reviews are no-frills straight-talkin’ brilliance, and her enthusiasm is definitely contagious! Check out her account here, and her blog here.

So, if this incredible assortment of readers doesn’t convince you to check out #bookstagram, I don’t know what will! You can, of course, find little ol’ me here too. Are you a bookstagrammer? Drop your handle in the comments so we can all see your stuff (or share it over at KUWTP on Facebook!).

Tropic Of Cancer – Henry Miller

This is it, people: the one we’ve all been waiting for! Get yourselves a glass of wine and strap in, because after dozens and dozens of books, after a year of searching, I have finally found it: some decent literary smut! If that’s not your thing, look away now, because I tell you what – Henry Miller’s Tropic Of Cancer had me clutching my pearls.

To understand Tropic Of Cancer, you really need to understand the life and times of Henry Miller. See, Tropic of Cancer, much like The Sun Also Rises, and On The Road, is what we call a roman-à-clef (which is a fancy way of saying that Miller wrote a diary and just changed a few names before he published it). Miller grew up in the States, born in 1891 to German-speaking parents and only learning to speak English fluently during his school years. As an adult, he had – shall we say – a complicated romantic life. By way of example, at one point he had an affair with his first wife’s mother. He supported himself through a string of odd-jobs until his second wife took him to Paris. There, she encouraged him to begin writing, and he threw himself whole-heartedly into a life of bohemian squalor. Paris was the place for it, after all; the city was chockers full of debauched artistic types (Hemingway, Joyce, and Beckett all hung out there during the same period), so he had plenty of company.

As he was writing Tropic Of Cancer, his first book, he began a torrid affair with Anaïs Nin (and it was her diaries, published later, that made celebrities of them both). Then, a plot twist: Miller’s wife began an affair with Nin as well. Unsurprisingly, they divorced in 1934, the same year that Tropic Of Cancer was published.

It was an interesting conflation of circumstances that led Tropic Of Cancer to even see the light of day. Firstly, it was the editorial support of Nin – not to mention her financial backing – that got the manuscript to a publishable standard. But even with her guidance and injection of cash, there was the matter of finding a publishing house that would take it on. That’s where the legendary laissez-faire attitude of the French saved the day. See, British and American publishers were constrained by tight obscenity laws and unwilling to take risks on “dirty books”, while the French – predictably – did not give a shit. As such, Tropic Of Cancer was published in Paris for the first time in 1934, but it did not reach the English-speaking world until 1961, after many lengthy legal battles.

I bet you think I’m overstating it. How could a book possibly be so filthy that it warranted 30 years of controversy? Consider the opinion of Pennsylvania Supreme Court Justice Michael Musmanno, who said that Tropic Of Cancer is “… not a book. It is a cesspool, an open sewer, a pit of putrefaction, a slimy gathering of all that is rotten in the debris of human depravity.”

Given that that’s the case, I’m sure you won’t be surprised to learn that I fucking loved it!

“It is now the fall of my second year in Paris. I was sent here for a reason I have not yet been able to fathom. I have no money, no resources, no hopes. I am the happiest man alive.”

Tropic of Cancer (pG 1)

Tropic Of Cancer isn’t a stream of consciousness, but it’s something adjacent to it. It is set in France during the late 1920s and 30s, focusing on Miller’s life as a starving artist. There’s no real linear narrative, and Miller fluctuates fluidly through the past and the present and his philosophical musings on life. It’s basically a string of anecdotes about his friends, lovers, work, life, and neighbourhood, with the occasional epiphany and some fun facts thrown in.

“The physiology of love. The whale with his six-foot penis, in repose. The bat-penis libre. Animals with a bone in the penis. Hence, a bone on… ‘Happily,’ says Gourmont, ‘the bony structure is lost in man’. Happily? Yes, happily. Think of the human race walking around with a bone on. The kangaroo has a double penis – one for week-days and one for holidays.”

Tropic of Cancer (Pg 2-3)

And, yes, there is a lot of filth. I can see why the conservatives kicked up such a stink (which is unusual for me – usually, I’m left wondering what could possibly have caused such offence). I did notice, though, that Miller really writes more about hunger and food than he does about sex. I assume that’s because, well, most bohemians were homeless and starving. Nin once observed to Miller that “in Tropic Of Cancer you were only sex and a stomach”, and that is probably the best assessment of this book that anyone has ever made.

The sex and debauchery that he does describe seems more angry than lustful. It’s abundantly clear that he was trying to make a point, moreso than titillate the reader (not that he was opposed to a bit of titillation, mind you – he and Nin both made their pocket money writing erotica to order, mostly for private collectors). I read some commentators say that the pornographic passages “no longer shock” the modern reader, but I’ll happily stick up my hand and say that references to inserting reptiles and rodents into a woman’s rectum were still pretty damn confronting for me.

There’s also a lot of quibbling among the various readers and critics as to whether Miller was a misogynist, and whether Tropic Of Cancer was a misogynistic book. I’m sure he was, to an extent, but to me most of the woman-hate-y passages read as so tongue-in-cheek that I couldn’t imagine even Miller himself taking them seriously. Plus, the men in the book were hardly a picnic. I keep coming around to the same question: does it matter? Whether Miller hated women seems to be largely beside the point. What matters more is whether today’s reader can think critically about his misogynistic portrayal – real or imagined – in a contemporary context. I’d hate to think that some incel fuck-knuckle would read this book and use it to justify his hatred of women, but I’m also a firm believer in “you don’t read the book, the book reads you”. Misogynists will find misogyny in anything they read, regardless of the author’s intent, and that’s that.

There is a sequel, Tropic of Capricorn, published five years after Tropic Of Cancer, and it too was banned in all English-speaking countries for nearly 30 years. It actually covers an earlier period in Miller’s life, so I guess that makes it a “prequel” more than anything. When the two books finally reached the English speaking world, together, Miller became a household name. He was hailed by the Sixties counter-culture as a “prophet of freedom and sexual revolution”. Or, in my own words, Miller did what Kerouac did, but better than Kerouac did it, while Kerouac was still in grade school.

I couldn’t possibly recommend this book blindly. It’s too smutty, and Miller makes liberal use of the c-bomb and all other manner of creative profanity. Tropic Of Cancer is artistic and esoteric, in the extreme. So, if the appeal of Paris for you is strolling the Champs E’lysses and taking in high fashion and fine art while munching on croissants, this is not the book for you. If, on the other hand, the idea of filth, hunger, homelessness, squalor, and despair gets your motor running, and dying in a Parisian gutter of venereal disease sounds romantic, then Tropic Of Cancer is probably just your speed. Guess which camp I fall into… 😉

My favourite Amazon reviews of Tropic Of Cancer:

  • “Lordy what a waste of ink and paper.” – C. Richter
  • “I hated this book. About as erotic as a software manual.” – Golindrina
  • “This is an easy read if you’re an English Lit. fellow at Princeton.” – Rob Wallace
  • “This book reminds me of sitting out on my back porch listening to my drunken neighbor telling dirty lies…sometimes funny and sometimes annoying. It is a definite rambler but entertaining at times. The book was good enough to finish” – Stephen F. Brecht
  • “Beautifully offensive” – Jorge
  • “Wife seems very happy with the books ;-)” – Mark D
  • “If you want to improve your vocabulary and have a rollicking good time doing it, the sexist pig Miller is your best bet! TREMENDOUS VITALITY!” – Richard Stark

Romantic Reads For Valentine’s Day (That Won’t Make You Throw Up In Your Mouth)

Love it or hate it, you can’t ignore Valentine’s Day. Don’t bother rushing to the comments to remind me that it’s a capitalist conspiracy to make us spend our hard-earned pineapples on chocolates and cards and flowers once a year – I am well aware. Be all that as it may, I think it’s as good a time as any to dig out a few romantic reads.

I didn’t realise until I started trying to put this post together how few “romantic” books I actually read. I don’t have any kind of deep-seated opposition to them or anything; there just aren’t that many of them on The List or on my bookshelves. I think it’s because perhaps I’m a bit too cynical to put up with any schmaltzy crap in literature. So, this is a list of romantic reads for Valentine’s Day… that won’t make you throw up in your mouth.

Romantic Reads For Valentines Day - White Words in Love Heart Overlaid on Collage of Book Covers - Keeping Up With The Penguins

The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue – Mackenzi Lee

Valentine’s Day is for everyone, of all ages, so let’s start with a young adult book that can be enjoyed by teenagers and adult-adults alike: The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue. It ticks every box: hedonism, adventure, history, wealth, and (most importantly) romance. It’s fast-paced, it’s witty, and it touches on a bunch of really topical issues (including racism, sexuality, mental health, class, and more). A fun read!

Tropic Of Cancer – Henry Miller

Tropic Of Cancer is considerably more “adult” – in fact, it’s not even that romantic, just very smutty. If you’re single on Valentine’s Day, this is the perfect erotic tome to get your motor running. That said, Miller’s brand of literotica is not to everyone’s tastes; if you prefer your smut with a more lady-like bent, try some Anaïs Nin instead. I reviewed Tropic of Cancer for KWUTP just this week – it’s a cracker!

Call Me By Your Name – André Aciman

Speaking of smut: Call Me By Your Name has a scene with a peach that… well, you’ll have to read it for yourself 😉 but that’s not all there is to be found in these pages! Aciman has written a beautiful romantic story of the budding relationship between 17-year-old Elio Perlman and a 24-year-old scholar named Oliver, both Jewish men trying to find their place in the world. Call Me By Your Name follows their romance and the subsequent decades, all against a beautiful Italian backdrop.

Emma – Jane Austen

It wouldn’t feel right to make a list of romantic reads for Valentine’s Day without including any Austen. I refuse to indulge the Elizabeth Bennet/Mr Darcy fandom (as we all know, Pride and Prejudice has been a tough row for me to hoe – review coming soon!), so I’ve gone with a slightly less traditional choice: Emma. It took me a little while to understand its understated brilliance, but this tale of a wealthy, beautiful, self-indulgent match-maker is a great Valentine’s Day read (as long as you don’t need your stories to be action-packed to hold your interest). Check out my full review of Emma here.

Jane Eyre – Charlotte Brontë

While we’re in the 19th century, we should also consider Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre. Now, maybe it will make you throw up in your mouth, just a little bit, but bear with me. It’s definitely a problematic love story, what with the whole wife-locked-in-the-attic thing… but I loved it anyway! And that’s what makes me think it will warm the cockles of even the most hardened cynic this Valentine’s Day. It’s the perfect combination of romance, mystery, and coming-of-age, with a bad-ass female protagonist at its heart. I highly recommend it!

Love In The Time Of Cholera – Gabriel García Márquez

The romance is right there in the title: this is the story of Love In The Time Of Cholera. Now, don’t be scared off by Márquez’s reputation! It’s actually an extremely readable story, with that classic South American magical realism we associate with our favourite romantic reads. It’s passionate, it’s lusty, and it examines the way we understand love and what keeps it alive across generations. It’s long, but stick with it: it’s worth it in the end (if nothing else, proud singletons will find it keeps them distracted and helps them work on their patience in this trying time of Valentine’s propaganda!).

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before – Jenny Han

Now, to something a little more fun! To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before has a terrifying, but compelling, premise: what if everyone you’d ever admired from afar found out how you felt about them? What if they all found out at the exact same time? Yikes! That’s what happens to protagonist Lara Jean Song, whose secret love letters to her teenage crushes are mysteriously mailed to their recipients. I think that’s enough to instill fear in the heart of anyone who was once a teenage girl…

Little Women – Louisa May Alcott

Don’t you roll your eyes at me! If you approach Little Women with the right perspective, it makes for a damn find romantic read on Valentine’s Day. Alcott has an unfair reputation for being “sentimental” and “girly”, but I pulled that shit to shreds in my review. The story of Little Women seems a lot more brave and adventurous when you understand more about Alcott’s politics and her motivations for writing. As to the romance, I know Alcott was pilloried by her publishers and her fans for the “unromantic” ending: headstrong Jo March turns down Prince Charming’s proposal, and instead chooses to marry the poor (old!) Professor Bhaer… but I loved it! It was realistic, which makes it lovely. I challenge you to give this American classic another go and see what you find this Valentine’s Day!

Gone With The Wind – Margaret Mitchell

And while we’re on romantic endings that aren’t exactly “happy”, if that’s your thing you’re really going to want to read Margaret Mitchell’s sweeping American epic Gone With The Wind. Southern belle Scarlett O’Hara connives and conspires her way through the Civil War, falling in and out of love with both the charming Rhett Butler and her best friend’s husband (sometimes at the same time). Sure, there’s also some gross romanticisation of slavery in the South, but it’s worth a read this Valentine’s Day nonetheless.

Dark Matter – Blake Crouch

Changing tack once again: you didn’t think this list was going to be all classic love stories and historical fiction, did you? Believe it or not, there are alternatives that are still Valentine’s-y! Take Dark Matter, by Blake Crouch – a “mind-blowing sci-fi romance thriller”. What a genre-bending combination! It’s a love story, at its heart, about a husband’s unbreakable bond with his wife – but it’s wrapped up in a truly compelling sci-fi premise. A great one to pick up if you’re in the mood for something different this Valentine’s Day…

Meet Cute: Some People Are Destined To Meet

It’s not a list of romantic reads for Valentine’s Day without at least a little cutesy shit. So, here’s my offer: Meet Cute is a concept-based collection of short stories from some of today’s most accomplished Young Adult authors, all zooming in on the rom-com trope. Don’t be fooled, though, this is hardly a compilation of bouncy blonde manic-pixie-dream-girls meeting brooding bad boys: diversity is the order of the day! The anthology tackles everything from gender identity to family dynamics, and in every story are the seeds of a great romance. If you’re getting over a break-up (the worst time of year for it, big virtual hugs to you!) this collection will give you hope that new love is just around the corner.

One Day – David Nicholls

If the “concept” appeals to you, try this one on for size: One Day tells the story of two college friends, through the tiny window of a certain day in their lives. Through that one day (see what he did there?), Nicholas explores the importance of timing, the changing nature of relationships, and – much like Márquez in Love In The Time Of Cholera – the need for patience when it comes to love. It may make you a little nauseated at times, but hopefully Nicholls’s humour and mastery of the craft will keep the vomit where it belongs.

Committed – Elizabeth Gilbert

We’ve covered nearly every genre on this list of romantic reads for Valentine’s Day… except non-fiction. So here it is! I know there’s a legion of people out there who scoff at the juggernaut that was Eat Pray Love, but even if you’re one of them, you’ll find something very different in Liz Gilbert’s Committed. It picks up where her story ended in her bestselling memoir, her relationship with Felipe forced to progress under the auspices of the American immigration office. Throughout Committed, Gilbert works through her fears and anxieties about love and marriage, and how our traditions contribute to our understanding of fidelity, companionship, and commitment. A great one for engaged couples this Valentine’s Day, especially if you can feel your feet getting a little chilly…

The Four Loves – C.S. Lewis

In the alternative, maybe a literary giant’s personal reflections on love might be more your speed. C.S. Lewis is perhaps best known for his children’s books (The Chronicles of Narnia), but he was also quite the smarty-pants. In this book, The Four Loves, he looks at four (duh) specific types of love: romantic love, love between friends, love for family, and love born of charity and religion. He reaches a trite conclusion that, sickly sweet as it may be, seems apt in this season: love makes all things possible. Awwww….

Love: A History – Simon May

If memoir and personal essays really aren’t your thing, maybe a more straightforward non-fiction look at love is what you’re after. Love: A History gives us an in-depth and critical perspective on the very notion of romantic love, through the lenses of culture, philosophy, literature, religion, modernity, and more. How has our understanding of love changed over time, and (more importantly) why does it change? May turns over every stone to get you some answers for Valentine’s Day.


And there you have it: surely, every type of lover can find a romantic read for Valentine’s Day on this broad and varied list (if I do say so myself). What will you be reading? Do you have any more suggestions? Let me know in the comments (or tell me over at KUWTP on Facebook!).

The End Of The Affair – Graham Greene

The End Of The Affair was published in 1951. It is the fourth (and last) in a series of explicitly Catholic novels written by British author Graham Greene… but you wouldn’t know it if you only read the first half. After all, it kicks off with a highly illicit adulterous affair. Hardly the stuff of great Catholic morality tales, eh?

So, let’s get all the salacious details out of the way: yes, The End Of The Affair is based on an affair of Greene’s own (authors just never tire of writing what they know, do they?). He was sticking it to one Lady Catherine Walston, and it ended badly, as the lover affairs that inspire great art often do. The British edition of the novel was dedicated to “C”, but over the pond, a little further from home, the American edition was dedicated to “Catherine”. That’s one way to make your mark on history, I suppose…

Greene based the protagonist, Bendrix, on himself, and Lady C was represented by the character Sarah. They met through Bendrix’s friend (and Sarah’s husband), Henry Miles. The fact that Bendrix is cutting his mate’s grass tells you pretty much everything you need to know about him. Being, as it is, The End Of The Affair, you get relatively few details about the affair itself – it’s over before the story even begins. Sarah had suddenly and unexpectedly broken off her affair with Bendrix some time before, but he is still racked with jealousy and rage. So, he hires a private investigator (as you do, ahem!) to figure out what the fuck happened. Bendrix is basically stalking his ex by proxy, and it’s every bit as creepy as it sounds.


Through flashbacks and vignettes, we learn that Bendrix and Sarah fell in love quickly – it was the kind of affair that burns bright and fast – and he was increasingly frustrated by her refusal to divorce her husband (an impotent and amiable civil servant). Bendrix and Sarah were engaging in a little afternoon delight when a bomb went off (oh, yeah, there was a whole world war going on in the background, by the way), and it was shortly after that incident that she left him. The private dick reads Sarah’s diary from that day – ew, gross, I hate him – and reports to Bendrix that, in the moment of the bomb blast, Sarah made a vow to God that she would cut off her adulterous affair if He would let Bendrix survive the incident. That’s where things start to get religious-y, and the story takes some weird turns.

Sarah, unsurprisingly, has a lot of internal conflict over the whole situation. She checks out a few churches, and tries real hard to get her shit together… but then she quickly dies of a lung infection. And then all this miracle-y stuff happens. I told you it takes some weird turns! The most twisted part, in my humble opinion, is that when the adultress dies, her lover moves in with her husband. Greene explains that like it’s the most natural thing in the world, but it really creeped me out. The rest of The End Of The Affair is just Bendrix trying to reconcile Sarah’s death and her supposed faith, trying to figure out whether there really is a God, yadda yadda yadda. It’s heavy stuff, but the book is really short, so there’s not a lot of time for exposition: he just has a few revelations, but stays mad. The end.


Yes, The End Of The Affair is super-short. In fact, it reads more like a long short-story than a novel. Greene did his best to address major questions about faith, religion, obsession, jealousy, and the obligations placed upon men and women in hetero relationships, in as few words as possible. It really reminded me of that TED talk about jealousy in literature, which is well worth checking out.

My tl;dr summary: The End Of The Affair is a short novel about a scorned lover’s creepy pursuit of his best mate’s wife, who dies mid-way through her conversion to Catholicism. If I had to sum the book up in a single word, I would choose “bitter”: it sounds bitter, it feels bitter, it tastes bitter on your tongue as you read it. It’s not a romantic read, and probably not one to pick up if you’re looking to restore your faith in God (or humanity, come to that), but it’s certainly an interesting cautionary tale: never dump a writer without telling him why, or chances are you’ll find yourself a character in a book like this one.

My favourite Amazon reviews of The End Of The Affair:

  • “My third time out with Greene. The guy’s a bore. The End of the Affair is  like having the Watchtower shoved at you by a Jehovah’s Witness with a really high opinion of himself.” – Fintan Ryan
  • “A boring book about people who don’t like each other very much but had an affair anyway,
    Another story of English men and women who were unable to confront their desires realistically. This is one of the reasons that I read non-fiction.” – Gordon R. Flygare
  • “I listened to this book on tape on a drive from Connecticut to Boston and tired of the man and woman constantly fighting. There was just too much drama in the car that day. I couldn’t take anymore. I haven’t fought that much with my husband over 33 years as took place within 3 hours of that car trip. Never was I so glad to get to my destination and tell the couple not to take themselves and their relationship, so seriously. Would not recommend this book on a car trip. Maybe it’s a better read.” – L. M. Keefer
  • “A woman goes to church like once and has some vague emotional experience. According to Graham Greene, this makes her a Catholic, a true religious woman. I’ve had orgasms with more depth than this novel.” – Lincott

More Of The Best Opening Lines In Literature

This time last year, Keeping Up With The Penguins launched with a best-of list: the best opening lines in literature. It was an auspicious start, and it seems so long ago now! So, to celebrate KUWTP’s first anniversary, I’m going back to the beginning and bringing you another list: more of the best opening lines in literature.

More of The Best Opening Lines In Literature - Text Overlaid on Image of Book Open In Front of Beach Horizon - Keeping Up With The Penguins

1. One Hundred Years of Solitude – Gabriel García Márquez

“Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice.”

Innumerable questions are raised by this opening line: why is the Colonel facing the firing squad? What does he mean by “discovering ice”? Why is that the memory that comes to mind, given his circumstances? The only way to find out is to read One Hundred Years Of Solitude (damn clever).

2. The Catcher In The Rye – J.D. Salinger

“If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.”

This is the perfect introduction to The Catcher In The Rye’s whiney teenage protagonist Holden Caulfield, and his stream-of-consciousness style. You can read my full review of Salinger’s magnum opus here (and my review of David Copperfield here, too, come to that).

3. If On A Winter’s Night A Traveler – Italo Calvino

“You are about to begin reading Italo Calvino’s new novel, If on a winter’s night a traveler.”

Nope, I didn’t pull up the first line of the foreword by accident: that’s how If On A Winter’s Night A Traveler starts. This opening line is a baptism by fire into the truly odd and brilliant perspective of Calvino’s novel.

4. The Outsider – Albert Camus

“Mother died today.”

BAM. Cop that! It’s a straight-shooting opener, one of the best. Think of all the different ways Camus (or, more accurately, Camus’s translator) could have phrased it: “My mother died today”, or “Mummy died today”, or “Mother passed away today”. In fact, there’s a lot of debate about the choice of these particular words in the translation of The Outsider (you can get the full story from The New Yorker here).

5. Their Eyes Were Watching God – Zora Neale Hurston

“Ships at a distance have every man’s wish on board.”

It’s a beautiful metaphor, one that reads more like an idiom than an opening line, and one that stands strong with no context at all… but be that as it may, it’s well worth reading the rest of Their Eyes Were Watching God, there’s plenty more brilliance to be found in those pages.

6. Alphabetical Africa – Walter Abish

“Ages ago, Alex, Allen and Alva arrived at Antibes, and Alva allowing all, allowing anyone, against Alex’s admonition, against Allen’s angry assertion: another African amusement… anyhow, as all argued, an awesome African army assembled and arduously advanced against an African anthill, assiduously annihilating ant after ant, and afterward, Alex astonishingly accuses Albert as also accepting Africa’s antipodal ant annexation.”

This one is just so damn clever, it makes me angry. And Walter Abish keeps it up the whole time: each chapter of Alphabetical Africa contains only words beginning with a subsequent letter of the alphabet (first chapter is A, second chapter is B, third chapter is C, and so on). If that doesn’t pique your curiosity, I don’t know what will.

7. The Luck Of The Bodkins – P.G, Wodehouse

“Into the face of the young man who sat on the terrace of the Hotel Magnifique at Cannes there had crept a look of furtive shame, the shifty, hangdog look which announces that an Englishman is about to talk French.”

Well, it’s hilarious, and that alone justifies the inclusion of The Luck Of The Bodkins‘ opening line in this list. But I also love the way it covers everything – setting, character, conflict – and, without actually describing any specific features of the face, Wodehouse manages to conjure in the mind of the reader the exact expression to which he is referring. That, people, is fucking mastery.

8. The Metamorphosis – Franz Kafka

“As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a monstrous vermin.”

Kafka is the king of starting a story in the middle, as all the writing experts say you should, and the opening line of The Metamorphosis is probably his finest example of that.

9. My Brilliant Friend – Elena Ferrante

“This morning Rino telephoned. I thought he wanted money again and I was ready to say no. But that was not the reason for the phone call: his mother was gone.”

OK, I’m probably biased (but it’s my blog and I’ll be biased if I want to), because I loved Elena Ferrante’s My Brilliant Friend so damn much… But come on! This line hooks you, right from the get go, and I think it’s mostly that final word: “gone”. Gone how?? Rino’s mother isn’t “dead”, she isn’t “missing”, she hasn’t “lost her mind” – she’s gone, and I found that so fascinating I had to devour the book as quickly as possible to piece together what happened. (You can read the rest of my love letter to My Brilliant Friend here, and reviews of the rest of the Neapolitan novels are coming soon!).

10. Opium – Colin Falconer

“Noelle thought she would have noticed him even if he hadn’t driven his Packard through the front bar of the Hotel Constellation.”

This is another opening line I love for its dry humour. It takes such a hard-left turn mid-way through the sentence, I can’t help but chuckle every time! And you can find much more of this comic timing throughout the rest of Colin Falconer’s Opium.

11. Charlotte’s Web – E.B. White

“‘Where’s Papa going with that axe?’ said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast.”

I had to include at least one childhood favourite, didn’t I? Fern’s question at the very beginning of Charlotte’s Web betrays such innocence, and in so doing effectively sets the stage for the rest of the novel.

Reading my way through The List this past year, I’ve learned a lot about opening lines, why they work, and why they don’t. For instance, I’m increasingly bored by opening lines that describe the weather (the only exceptions being 1984, and perhaps Jane Eyre). And it’s not just me: Elmore Leonard listed “never open a book with the weather” as his first piece of advice to writers. Most of the best opening lines in literature, I’ve noticed, rather than just “setting the scene” in a geographical sense, find clever ways to position both the reader and the narrator, using very few words. By the end of that very first sentence, you know exactly who you are, and who the narrator is, and the relationship between you. I particularly like it when the impact of the opening line doesn’t hit you until later, perhaps not until you’ve finished the book and meditated on it a little.

What do you think? What makes for a good opening line? Tell me in the comments (or over at KUWTP on Facebook!).

A Game of Thrones – George R.R. Martin

Fantasy is not my first choice for genre fiction. I really struggle to keep track when there are eight hundred different characters, who all seem to have similar names, spread across a huge world that is completely unfamiliar to me… so I was pretty hesitant cracking open A Game of Thrones. I don’t live under a rock, so of course I’m already familiar with the HBO series, and I hoped that having watched it (a couple times over, no less) would help me keep track of what was going on. And, on that note, if you’re one of those people that completely pooh-poohs the television adaptation, we’re on completely different levels. I went so far as to make a solemn vow before I started reading that I would never become one of those arseholes that interrupts every GoT conversation by saying “Have you read the books, though?”, and I fully intend to stick to that. I like the series, and I’m no elitist. So, proceed with this review at your own peril.

And a note on the title: the original publication was, indeed, called “A Game of Thrones”. It wasn’t until after the HBO series premiered in 2011, and the book soared to the top of the New York Times Best Seller List, that the publisher released this paperback tie-in edition that excluded the indefinite article. Better brand recognition, and all of that…

Anyway: A Game of Thrones is the first in Martin’s Song of Ice and Fire series. I was pretty surprised to learn that he first started writing it back in 1991, and the debut wasn’t published until 1996. I had no idea it was that old! I know everyone bitches about how long it’s taking him to finish the sixth and seventh books in the series, but when you look at the timeline of releases so far, and how long it took him to write each one, the long delay is hardly out of character for him, so maybe we should all just back off. Whoops!

So I start reading. Before I’m fifty pages in, I’m already thinking “Yep, I’m very glad I watched the show first!”. I would have had a devil of a time following what was going on if I hadn’t. There are several points of view, and Martin switches back and forth between them super-fast, telling three different storylines simultaneously.



First, there’s Ned Stark, a Lord from the North, who is called to King’s Landing to serve as Hand of the King (the King being an old war buddy of his, if you went through what they did you’d understand). When he arrives in the southern city, he discovers that the King’s children are actually the product of an incestuous FWB thing going on between the Queen and her twin brother. (And don’t bother saying “ewww”, being disgusted by Queen Cersei and Jamie Lannister’s all-family fuck-fest is so 2011.) When Ned threatens to reveal the Queen’s secret, the King is mysteriously “killed by a boar” while hunting (read: low-key murdered), and Ned is executed as a traitor. His family arcs up, and declares war on the whole Kingdom. (Yes, this is the Land of the Great Overreaction.)

Meanwhile, further north, Ned’s bastard son has joined the league of the Night’s Watch, who protect The Wall (a giant block of ice that separates the Kingdom from the Northern wilderness). They’re there to keep out The Others, a kind of Zombie army (i.e., the “bad guys”). The Wall serves as a default penal colony, and all the undesirables from the Kingdom end up there, so it’s a pretty motley crew and not at all what the bastard expected.

And then there’s everything that’s going on Across The Narrow Sea. The Targaryens are the former royal family, ousted by now-King Robert Baratheon (the one that got boar-ed). Generations of in-breeding sent them a bit bonkers, but the two remaining kids – Viserys and Daenerys – seem to be holding up alright. Well, except that Viserys sells Daenerys in marriage, hoping that her new Dothraki (read: savage) husband will give him an army that he plans to use to re-take his throne. He’s a right prick, actually, in case you hadn’t guessed… and an impatient one, as it turns out. Daenerys’s savage husband brutally murders Viserys (is it wrong to have a “favourite murder”? I hope not, because this is mine!) because he keeps nagging him about the whole army thing. Daenerys thinks she’s home and hosed, but she has a bit of a rough trot; her husband dies, her kid dies, and she goes full bad-ass bitch and takes over the whole situation. She marshals her remaining followers and figures out how to hatch three live dragons – the throne is gon’ be hers, make no mistake. The story ends there (gasp!), with the lingering threat of a burgeoning dragon queen.


So, yes, A Game of Thrones has a really intricate and complex plot, but that’s not exactly uncommon for fantasy. The unique circumstances for this book, though, is that you’d pretty much have to be dead not to have at least some idea of what it’s all about, given the popularity of the TV show. I liked picking up on some of the interesting details that I missed in the show (like the symbolism of the stag killing the direwolf in the opening scenes). It was just enough to hold it all together for me, but – like I said – I’m damn glad I watched the show first, and I would have really struggled reading A Game of Thrones if I hadn’t.

The main recurring themes are (1) choosing between stuff (usually the people you love and some kind of honour/duty), and (2) the fuzzy distinction between good and evil. Martin himself has said:

“Having multiple viewpoints is crucial to the grayness of the characters. You have to be able to see the struggle from both sides, because real human beings in a war have all these processes of self-justification, telling ourselves why what we’re doing is the right thing.”

A Game of Thrones hardly revolutionises the fantasy genre in that regard, so I can see why die-hard fantasy fans roll their eyes at it a bit. I’m not really here for the fantasy, though, so it didn’t bother me enough to write it off entirely. And on the other side of it, you’ve got the ones that turn their noses up at anything with a popular adaptation, so you’d think that would really limit its market… but Martin seems to be doing okay regardless, so my heart doesn’t exactly break for him. In the end, I’m here for the politics, the underhanded wheeling and dealing, and he absolutely nails that aspect. If that’s not your style, there’s also a lot of internal conflict and character development to keep you entertained.

I did notice a few typos in this edition, especially towards the end – I guess the editor just got tired? It’s hard to blame him, this bad boy is several hundred pages long…

In the end, it was quite comforting to read a storyline with which I was already familiar (that doesn’t happen often with The List, given that every book is one I’ve never read before and I rarely take the time to watch TV or film adaptations). I really enjoyed A Game of Thrones… but I’m not sure I’d recommend it to someone who hasn’t already seen (and loved) the show. If you didn’t enjoy the show, you definitely shouldn’t bother with the book – what you see is what you get.


My favourite Amazon reviews of A Game of Thrones:

  • “3 of the books are printed upside down from the cover. Very disapointed.” – Alex M.
  • “I enjoyed reading the book and it made the library happy also as the replacement for a book me and my puppy damaged. The price of the book was well worth the purchase. So no complaints.” – “Ichi
  • “Not thrilled at how small they were for real other than that they are books” – Curtis G.
  • “I have had these books and still have not read them but I feel great just having them.  10/10Why did I buy these” – Alex G.
  • “After 3 pages of reading I remembered I don’t actually like reading. Love the show though.” – Stewart S. Smith
  • “Swords and Knives are cool. Liked the book.” – Richard Beck
  • “What can I say, Winter is Coming! Excellent read with the spattering of sex. (More then I like but George didn’t ask my opinion before he started writing the books)” – Hope

 

How To Read More Classic Books

Have you ever found yourself zoning out, nodding along blankly, as the person you’re with chats away about their favourite classic book? Maybe you read it once in high school and hated it (don’t worry, enforced reading isn’t fun for anyone, no judgement). Maybe you’ve heard of it and figure you know enough to pretend you’ve read it, even though you really haven’t. But, seeing as you’ve ended up here, I’m guessing you’ve decided now is the time to get caught up and make your way through some of literature’s greatest hits. That makes me your new best friend, because I’ve put together another amazing Keeping Up With The Penguins guide: how to read more classic books.

How To Read More Classic Books - Words Overlaid on Collage of Penguin Classics Book Covers - Keeping Up With The Penguins

“What counts as a classic book, anyway?”

Say it with me, now: it depends who you ask.

Personally, I tend to consider the classics to be books that have endured over a hundred years with continued and ongoing resonance. That’s how I categorise them here on KUWTP. Italo Calvino once famously said that “a classic is a book that has never finished saying what it has to say”, and I think that’s spot-fucking-on. While I’m not alone in that opinion, a lot of people aren’t as hard-arse on the timeline, and consider books published much more recently to be “classics”, too. So, really, there are about as many answers to this question as there are readers of classic literature.

When we’re deciding which books “count” as classics, we can look at which books were “firsts” (to cross genre boundaries, for instance, or create a new tradition), or the books we used as yardsticks (the way, for example, we compare almost all vampire fiction to Dracula). We could take into consideration books that have taken readers by surprise and prompted social movements, or triggered significant change through controversial commentary. We’d be foolish to limit ourselves too strictly by time period, because, as I said, a “classic” book could be over 1,000 years old or released in the last decade depending whom you ask. It’s pretty reasonable to want or expect a classic book to stand the test of time, but it’s up to you how much time testing it really has to stand before it’s accepted behind the velvet rope.

Don’t forget that different genres also have different criteria for what constitutes a “classic”. Looking over a list of, say, sci-fi classics, you’ll see that they usually don’t have much in common with classic poetry, or the pre-war American canon. Heck, there are people who consider 50 Shades of Grey to be a classic of the romance genre, but you’d be hard pressed to find a literary fiction reader who’d use that book title and “classic” in the same sentence.

“Does a book have to be “good” to be a classic?”

You’d think the answer to that is obvious, but the problem is that what constitutes a “good” book is extremely subjective. Once again, it’s different for everyone. I think it’s generally fair to expect that books meet certain standards of “goodness” to be considered classic – they’re widely read and enjoyed, well-crafted, insightful, and interesting – but beyond that, there’s a wasteland of opinions and conjecture.

Now, let’s get something straight: you are under no obligation to read the classics, whether they’re “good” or not. You don’t have to agree with anyone else on what the “classics” are. You don’t have to read them in order to be a “real” or “serious” reader. So, if you’d rather poke your eye out with a rusty fork than pick up a classic book, you can quit right here. No one is holding you hostage, even if it feels like there’s a lot of pressure from classic-lovin’ bookworms, and there are plenty of contemporary and non-classic-y books out there that can’t wait to meet you. My advice from here on is strictly for those who are interested in reading the classics and expanding their world through the literary canon they haven’t yet explored – I’m not in the business of imposing literary elitism on anyone. 😉

Classic Books and Where to Find Them

I’ve lost count of how many times in the How To Read More series I’ve suggested checking out your local library, but I’m going to do it again here and now: check out your local library. Any library worth its salt will have a decent selection of classics across a variety of genres and time periods, and you can check them out (for free!) without any obligation. Heck yeah!

My advice doesn’t end there, though. One of the great things about getting into classic literature is that the copyright for a lot of these books and authors has lapsed, meaning that they are often (even usually) available for free in an eBook format, somewhere on the internet. Just look at the Amazon offering for Kindle – it’s bursting at the seams with literary classics, and so many are completely free! If you’re not an eBook reader, never fear: a lot of traditional publishers have capitalised on the opportunity that public domain work provides (to publish popular and enduring work without paying royalties, and no legal repercussions), releasing a bunch of very, very affordable versions in paperback.


And I’d be remiss if I didn’t give a special shout-out to Project Gutenberg, which – at last count – offers nearly 60,000 public domain books for free through their website. No eReader or smartphone required, you can read them right there in your browser if you want. It’ll be years before we fully understand the impact that the Project has had on global literacy, but for now you should take full advantage of the opportunity that it presents to you and say a silent prayer to the literature gods that it continues in perpetuity.

So, now you know where to find classic books, let’s lay out a plan to get you reading them.

Step One: Stop Being Scared of Classic Literature

Let’s start with a confession: I was scared of classic books for most of my life. I was convinced that I wasn’t smart enough to read them, or that I wasn’t educated enough to understand them. Even once I’d completed my degree, I figured I’d studied the “wrong thing” and classic books were reserved for the arts graduates that wore berets and pronounced Nietzsche correctly without even trying. This is the book-lover’s version of imposter syndrome; we convince ourselves that because we read a lot of YA, or we prefer prose to poetry, or we struggle with stilted language, that we “don’t belong” in the Classics section, and if we even try to read them everyone will find out we’re a big fat fraud.

So, let’s call bullshit on all of that right now. The classics are for everyone. A classic doesn’t become a classic without a lot of people reading it and loving it for a long time (see above), and statistically at least some of those people must have had the same tastes, education, and interests as you.

Bonus tip: make it easier on yourself. Start small. You wouldn’t start playing a video game on Level 20, would you? If you dive into the deep-end with Shakespeare’s collected works or The Odyssey, you’re setting yourself up to fail. There will be a bunch of unfamiliar references buried in a mountain of obscure language that goes right over your head, and you won’t have a hope of relating or engaging to the text. So, find a novel that will ease you in. Victorian classics are usually good choices, because the language isn’t all that different and you’ll be familiar enough with the cultural references already (and if you’re not, they’re usually easy enough to piece together anyway). Jane Eyre is one that I personally recommend, or David Copperfield – I read them early on in the Keeping Up With The Penguins project, and they put me in great stead to build on my relationship with the classics. If I can do it, you can do it. Promise.

Step Two: Find A Classic Book That Suits You

The most fundamental mistake you’ll make in your endeavour to read more classic books is picking one purely because it’s a “classic” that you’ve seen on lots of Buzzfeed lists or Pinterest graphics. There are better ways to go about it!

Take a look at the books you’ve enjoyed in the past, your preferred genres and formats, and try to find classics that are similar to those. Maybe the genres have advanced or changed over time, but you’ll be able to find something that feels a little familiar in terms of themes, characters, settings, and so on.

Here’s the easiest way to do it: chances are, you’ve already read an adaptation or two in your time (in fact, some would argue that all contemporary books owe a debt to the classics in one way or another). Consider going back to the original text, whatever it is. You’ll already have some familiarity with the story, which will make it easier to follow and enjoy. Make a list of all the books you’ve loved that are adapted from or related to classic literature. If you loved The Hours, for instance, go back and read Mrs Dalloway, or try Pride And Prejudice if you loved Bridget Jones’s Diary.

Step Three: Get Some Context For What You’re Reading

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: it’s always a good idea to find an edition with a decent introduction. I know people don’t always read them, but if you’re just beginning your foray into the classics it’s well worth it. The introduction (well, a good one) will give you all the background information you need before reading your classic book: the life and inspiration of the author, the political context of their work, our contemporary understanding of what they were trying to say, the popularity of their work over time, how the work changed between editions, language quirks, and more.

To give you an idea of how important this is, check out my review of Little Women. Without reading the introduction first, I would have read the book completely differently. In fact, I probably would have written it off as sentimental, moralising guff – I would have disregarded it entirely – if I didn’t have that foundation of knowledge about Lousia May Alcott’s politics and motivations.

If an edition with a good introduction isn’t easily accessible (sometimes they’re difficult to find, sometimes they’re super expensive, sometimes the introductions are too academic and stuffy to be of any use), just do some research online. I mean, you have a device in your pocket – you’re probably looking at it right now! – that allows you to access the entire breadth and depth of human knowledge. So, chances are someone somewhere has written down what you need to know about the book you’re about to read. Check out the author’s Wikipedia page to get an idea of when and where they lived, and how their life circumstances influenced their work. Look at recent reviews and book blogger posts about the book, because they’re sure to have some interesting tid-bits about the nature of the work. Sure, you risk encountering some spoilers with this method, but honestly the benefit you’ll get out of a contextual understanding far outweighs the detriment of knowing that the baby-daddy dies in the end of The Scarlet Letter.

Step Four: Start Reading!

It’s as simple as picking up the book and getting down to business. For more suggestions on how to do it, check out the first installment of this series, which was packed with tips on how to carve time out of your day and stay focused on reading.

Bonus tip: take it slow! And don’t be concerned if you’re taking longer than usual to read. You might need extra time to look up antiquated language, or revisit chapter summaries and make sure you’re following everything that’s going on. Even if you’re not taking those additional breaks, your brain might just need a little longer to process what you’re taking in. That’s okay! It takes me a lot longer to read a Victorian or Russian classic than it does to read a dystopian YA best-seller, so you’re definitely not alone.

Step Five: Expand Your Classic Horizons

OK, once you’ve read a few classics – and enjoyed them! – you’re ready to level up. If you read last week’s post, you already know how important diversity in reading is to me (as it should be to everyone, to be honest). Because of the patriarchy and cultural imperialism and the way the damn world works, in the present and in the past, chances are good that the classic(s) you pick up were written by straight white men (or, in a pinch, straight white women, and even then probably only the wealthy ones). The sad fact is that these are the classics that have received the most attention over literary history… but that’s not to say that classics by people of colour or LGBTIQ+ writers or writers with disabilities don’t exist. They certainly do! Once you’ve started to get comfortable with reading classics, you’re ready to seek them out if you haven’t already, and add an extra dimension to your classics-reading life. Here’s an entree platter to get you started:

Bonus Tips: How To Read (Even More!) Classics

Have a go at re-reading the classics that you didn’t like initially, or gave up on long ago. You know, the ones you were forced to read in high-school, or the ones that you tried and abandoned in your early twenties. You’ll probably be reluctant to revisit them at first, but I’m in it with you: I’m walking the walk, and circling back around to try Pride and Prejudice again for Keeping Up With The Penguins (having started, and abandoned, it no fewer than half-a-dozen times in the past). One of my favourite sayings is “you don’t read the book, the book reads you”, and it holds true with the classics most of all. You change and grow over the years, and you never know: you might just change and grow into a person that loves your currently-most-hated classic book. 😉

Another great piece of advice is the one my husband gave to me when I was tackling Moby Dick: let go of the idea that you’re going to understand every single world, or fully comprehend the author’s meaning. In fact, let go of the idea that you’ll understand even most of it. Focus on getting into the flow of the book, and ride the author’s wave. You’ll get the gist, at least, and that will be enough for now. Save the in-depth understanding for future re-reads, because it takes the pressure off and lets you enjoy the book without tearing your hair out. (Fun fact: the only book for which this strategy hasn’t worked was The Golden Bowl, and that’s a pretty good strike rate given how many classics I’ve tackled for KUWTP!).

And, finally, if you pick up a book and you’re giving it a red-hot go and you’re trying to get into the flow but it’s just not working… give it up! The fact is there are dozens – probably hundreds – of other classic books out there that you will enjoy and relate to. Don’t be afraid to ditch one half-way through, or a quarter of the way through, or even less if it really sucks. Your time is better spent on classic books that enrich your world and bring you joy.


Are you going to commit to reading more classic books this year? Which classics are you looking forward to reading? Which ones are you nervous about? Let me know in the comments (or drop it in the comments over at KUWTP on Facebook!).

The Rosie Project – Graeme Simsion

It’s hard to believe that The Rosie Project was Graeme Simsion’s debut novel. Shortly after Text Publishing released it, in 2013, it won both the ABIA Book Of The Year award and their General Fiction Book Of The Year award. International sales have topped 3.5 million copies. A couple of years ago, when I started putting together The List, this book was everywhere! It hardly seems fair that a debut novelist has that much success that quickly, eh?

The main character is a genetics professor, Don Tillman. He’s never had much “luck” with women, which will come as no surprise when I tell you that his proposed solution to that problem is to create a questionnaire to assess the suitability of each “potential mate”.

Tillman doesn’t fit in particularly well anywhere, really – there’s a lot of very heavy-handed hints that he has undiagnosed Asperger Syndrome. That in and of itself would be fine, but there’s something about his character that makes me feel… well, icky. Simsion pushes the socially-awkward-adult-male-nerd angle very hard, to the point where it started to evoke for me a salivating, entitled, MRA/incel keyboard-hero fucknuckle. Tillman seems to believe that he is an “ideal mate” for any woman, given his intelligence, physical health, financial success, and social status. I mean, doesn’t that sound just a little bit entitled and misogynistic? Plus, he says stuff like this:

“… but I immediately recognised Julie, the convenor, from Gene’s description: ‘blonde with big tits’. In fact, her breasts were probably no more than one and a half standard deviations from the mean size for her body weight, and hardly a remarkable identifying feature…” – page 7

I got used to it after a while. In fact, I even came to appreciate (a little) how Simsion managed to communicate to the reader a more objective perspective on Tillman’s beahviour without the character being consciously aware of it, which is quite tricky to do when the book is narrated in the first-person. But I still couldn’t help but wish his portrayal of Tillman’s symptoms had been written more carefully. Based on that alone, I knew that The Rosie Project could never be one of my favourites, or a Recommended read here on Keeping Up With The Penguins.

Anyway, this socially-awkward guy meets a fun-loving girl with Daddy issues (Rosie, natch), and she spectacularly fails his questionnaire. Yet (steel yourselves!) he finds himself drawn to her. He winds up helping this “unsuitable” bartender hunt down her biological father. Is Rosie a Manic Pixie Dream Girl? Well, kinda. I think she gets afforded more depth than MPDGs normally do, with the Daddy issues and all, but her character doesn’t actually “develop” all that much. Her entire presence in The Rosie Project is pretty much predicated on (1) finding her father, and (2) letting Don love her.

The real upside of the story is that it ends up inverting the much-maligned Grease storyline: the man is the one who ends up changing to win the girl, instead of the other way around. That’s something, at least!

I hope I haven’t put you off The Rosie Project completely, because plenty of other people love it and highly recommend it, so maybe you should take my garbage opinion with a grain of salt. Bill Gates included The Rosie Project on his list of “Six Books I’d Recommend”, and it’s hard to argue with one of the world’s most brilliant minds, eh? (And you can check out more surprising book recommendations from brilliant minds here, if you’re curious.)

Simsion pumped out a sequel pretty quickly, with The Rosie Effect being published in 2014. A sequel to the sequel, The Rosie Result, will be released any minute now. And a film adaptation of The Rosie Project is also in the works, but it’s hit a few roadblocks. The script is written, apparently, but Jennifer Lawrence (who was slated to play Rosie) pulled out, and directors have been playing pass-the-parcel with it ever since. I think it would translate particularly well to the big screen, so fingers crossed it finds a home eventually.

The Rosie Project is another book that you can burn through pretty quickly (a la Still Alice or The Book Thief), but I didn’t love it. I seem to be pretty alone in that opinion, though, so the only way to work out whether I’m right or wrong is to give it a go yourself… 😉

My favourite Amazon reviews of The Rosie Project:

  • “Good argument, perfect development!
    This is a good book and I Was Entertainmented by the first person describing his life perceptions.” – elianasantos
  • “Absolutely love these socks. They fit beautifully and stay odor free for a long time.” – Magster
  • “I had the good fortune to discuss this book with someone who actually has Asberger’s. They said it was quite accurate except for where it needed to serve the plot.” – Amazon Customer
  • “Big Bang Theory wannabe” – Amazon Customer
  • “If your interested in a pregnancy b ook, then this is your book. No interest to me, sadly it went on a bit.” – Melissa
  • “Not again.” – Mark walker
  • “Story interesting and writing poor.” – Seattle Native

How To Read More Diversely

This is part three of my How To Read More bootcamp series (you can read part one here, and part two here), and this week I’m focusing on a subject very close to my heart: how to read more diversely. The idea of diverse reading is probably one you’ve encountered a lot in recent years, and that is a Very Good Thing. However, the downside of “diversity” being the buzzword du jour is that now people tend to switch off when you start talking about it… but I’m here to say switch back on, right now, because this is important. A little while back, I found a great explanation of the importance of diverse books in a letter from a primary school student to Scholastic:

“Diverse characters matter because if you were black and you just saw books with white people it is going to be boring! You will want mirror books and also window books at the same time.”

(Read the full article from Ruben Brosbe, including this letter and others, here.)

Chances are, if you’re a person of privilege, you haven’t thought much lately about whether the books you’re reading are “window” books or “mirror” books. Most books are probably mirror books for you. Most books won’t force you to peer into another person’s world, because historically the publishing industry has been dominated by people who look and sound like you. Even if you “don’t care” or “never notice” whether an author comes from a different background to you, you should recognise that not noticing in itself is a form of privilege, and that all things aren’t equal. So, I’m here to help: consider this your beginner’s guide to reading more diversely (and the good news is you can start today).

How To Read More Diversely - Text Overlaid on Book Covers - Keeping Up With The Penguins

“What does diverse reading even mean?”

Officially, a “diverse book” is one written by or about a person of colour, an LGBTIQ+ person, a person with a disability, and/or a person of a marginalised cultural/religious/socioeconomic background. You could also include books from countries outside of the U.S. and U.K, and/or books translated from languages other than English. Personally, though, I prefer to think of a “diverse book” as one being written by or about someone who looks, sounds, and lives different to me.

And why do diverse books matter? Well, there’s scientific evidence abound to suggest that reading these types of books improves your empathy, teaches more adaptive social behaviours, breaks down stereotypes, and increases cultural awareness and sensitivity. I think we can all agree that these are all Very Good Things, too, right? Reading diverse books gives you endless opportunities to become aware of your own privilege, challenge your own biases and prejudices, and understand more about the types of systemic oppression that don’t personally affect you. If nothing else, you might just be surprised at how well you connect with plots and protagonists that don’t look or sound familiar.

If you’re already thinking it’s “too hard” to read more diversely, or you “don’t have time”, or this “doesn’t affect you”, I say: suck it up. I swear to you, honest to goodness, that it won’t be as difficult or unsettling as you think – and, even if it is, the benefits still outweigh the costs. Here’s how to do it…

Step One: Buy Books Written By Diverse Authors

See what I mean? It’s as easy as that.

Take a look at your bookshelves: if everything you find there is written by someone who looks like you and lives like you, you’re not reading diversely. And you can’t really be expected to read more diversely if you don’t have the books you need to hand. So, the solution? Buy some!

The benefit is actually twofold, because not only are you giving yourself the option of reading more diversely, you’re using your vote – in the form of your consumer dollars – to tell publishers and booksellers that books written by people of colour, LGBTIQ+ authors, writers with disabilities, and so on, are worthwhile. That they’re a safe bet. That they’re moneymakers. It’s a cynical train of thought, I know, but that’s capitalism. Even if you never actually open the book, just by buying it you are supporting the creators of these works and making sure that there’s more opportunities for them in the future (and you get bonus points if you make the purchase at a local independent or secondhand bookstore that needs your support).

If you can’t afford the outlay – which is a completely understandable problem, and heck, I can relate! – use your local library. If librarians see an uptick in the number of diverse books being borrowed by their patrons, they’ll buy more of them and promote them on their shelves. If your local library doesn’t have the type of diverse book you’re looking for, request it. The staff are obligated to seek it out for you. Plus, if you’re in Australia or Canada or the U.K. or any other country with a lending rights program, the author will still get the royalties they’ve earned even though you can borrow the book for free.

Step Two: Buy Tickets To Events That Feature Diverse Authors (And Show Up!)

Look at the events programs for your local library, bookstores, and any writers festivals in your area. Buy tickets to events that feature diverse authors, even when (especially when!) the theme of the event or panel has nothing to do with “diversity”. When you buy tickets and show up, just like when you buy the books themselves, you send a message that these authors are highly valued by their readers and they’re a safe bet for publishers and agents.

What’s more, you’ll get to learn – something they say will surely pique your interest or challenge you to think about something differently. They’ll probably tell you things about their work that you wouldn’t otherwise get the chance to hear, and it might entice you to check out their back catalogue or keep an eye out for their new releases. They might recommend other writers, who are diverse themselves or write diversity in a way that is respectful and engaging.

Plus, if nothing else, it makes the author feel good. There ain’t nothing worse than reading to an empty room.

Step Three: Share And Engage On Social Media

You might not be an “influencer”, but if your post or Tweet convinces just one person to check out a book from a woman of colour or a non-binary writer or a writer who uses a wheelchair, that’s another score in their column, and it will mean the world to them. Not only are these writers too-often overlooked by the publishing world, once their books are out there they’re likely to be underrepresented in marketing and publicity materials, not to mention by selection panels for literary awards. So, we turn to people power!

Leave a review on Goodreads or Amazon. Share pictures of their work on Instagram. Tag publishers and bookstores in anything you post, make sure they see it! Your voice, however small, will join with others to make a groundswell of people clamouring for more diversity in reading lists and new releases.

Bonus benefit: when your friends and followers see that you’re interested in diverse books, it’s likely that some of them will reach out to share their own favourite diverse writers and stories with you. Check out my Pride 2018 post on Instagram, using books to make a rainbow flag – I had a bunch of readers and followers reach out to suggest LGBTIQ+ stories and authors for The Next List after that, because they saw that post and realised that I was interested in reading about diverse sexualities.

 

It’s been wonderful seeing so many #pride posts all over #bookstagram this month… I saved this, my first attempt at a rainbow #bookstack, for today – the anniversary of the Stonewall uprising. I give my thanks and pay my respects to the LGBTIQ+ elders who paved the way for the liberation. Your sacrifices were never in vain 🌈 . On a lighter note, it was surprisingly bloody difficult to cobble together a rainbow from my book collection! 😂 I have a lot of white, black, and orange spines… and not much else! I guess it’s a sign I should be buying more books 😏 . Signal boost your favourite LGBTIQ+ authors and bookstagrammers by tagging them in the comments, I’ll show each and every one some love!

A post shared by Keeping Up With The Penguins (@keepingupwiththepenguinsonline) on

While you’re there, make sure you follow and subscribe to diverse authors, bloggers, bookstagrammers and booktubers. Writers often need to show publishing houses that they have a decent following on social media when their next book is under consideration, and every additional click and “like” helps! And diverse book bloggers (on every platform) are more likely to recommend and talk about diverse books, maybe even bringing some new ones to your attention. You should definitely check out browngirlsreadtoo and twirlingpages and violettereads who are all slaying it on Instagram, and search the #diversebookbloggers tag to find more. Twitter is also a fantastic place to find new diverse voices: search #weneeddiversebooks, #ownvoices, #1000blackgirlsbooks and #lgbtbooks to get started.

Step Four: Look For Alternatives When You Need To

Now and then, you’re going to read an ostensibly-diverse book that falls short in one way or another. Maybe it relies too much on tropes and cliches about the marginalised group it seeks to represent. Maybe it relegates diverse characters to the role of sidekick or exotic love interest. This happens often, so don’t beat yourself up for making a “bad” choice. Think of it instead as an opportunity to seek out an alternative that does it better.

How can you tell when the representation isn’t “good” or accurate, if it’s not your own lived experience? Google the book title and look at reviews from members of the community that the book seeks to represent. You’ll be able to tell pretty quickly whether something is “off” (or, at least, controversial).

A real-life example: I wasn’t a huge fan of how The Rosie Project represented Asperger Syndrome. It’s not a terrible book, but I hate to think that anyone would consider it an accurate or realistic portrayal of life with Asperger’s. When I looked at the Amazon reviews section, it was clear that I’m not alone in my concerns, and many readers on the spectrum have taken issue with Simsion’s efforts. So, I started looking for books written by and about people with Asperger Syndrome, and found plenty of alternatives: there’s Look me In The Eye by John Elder Robison, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime by Mark Haddon, and Julie Brown even wrote a book about writers on the spectrum. I’m swimming in alternatives!

If you feel really strongly about a book’s failings in this area, you can contact the publisher directly to let them know about the problem (but for the love of all that is holy, don’t contact the author directly on social media! that’s just asking for trouble…). The publisher might not be aware of problems in the work, unless they employ “sensitivity readers”, because most of their reviewers and editors are likely straight, white, able-bodied, and of relatively good socioeconomic standing. It sucks, but it’s the current state of play, and the more often that we campaign for better representation – in the fictional world and the real one – the closer we’ll get to it.

Step Five: Set A Goal, Create A Checklist, And Stick To It

If this has got you fired up and ready to start reading more diversely, subscribe here to get an exclusive Keeping Up With The Penguins diverse reading checklist:

Subscribe here and get a free Diverse Reading Checklist


The first step to getting anything done is setting a goal, after all. Maybe you’re ready to commit to reading one book by a person of colour for every book you read by a white author, or balancing out your male/female/non-binary protagonist balance. Maybe you want to stretch yourself, and commit to an entire year of only reading women of colour, or writers with disabilities. Whatever you have in mind, set it in stone and go from there. Use my list (seriously, get it, it’s great!), or create your own – whatever will get you all the way to your goal.

If you need a little more inspiration, there are dozens of diverse reading challenges available online (especially at the beginning of the year, when we all make resolutions). Try searching your preferred social media platform for #diversitybingo and #diversityreadingchallenge, or other combinations – you’ll find a challenge that matches your goals and reading capacity, and probably also a community that wants to share in the experience with you.

Bonus points for bloggers and social media users who share a review, or leave a rating, every time they finish a diverse book (see Step Three!).

Some Final Thoughts on Reading More Diversely

I know I’m a bit of a hard-arse and these How To Read More guides are full of tough-love… but at the end of the day, reading more diversely should be fun! Don’t approach it like you’re eating a big plate of plain broccoli. Find a way to work diversity into your current reading life. If you’re a romance reader, pull up a few bodice-rippers written by (or about!) people with disabilities. If you love sci-fi, find some stories with protagonists that are people of colour. If you’re a die-hard YA fan, you’re in luck – there are a lot of fantastic diverse books published in your preferred genre right now (we’ve almost reached the point where it’s no longer “alternative” to have a main character from the LGBTIQ+ community or experiencing a mental health issue, which is just fucking awesome).

If you have friends and loved ones from marginalised communities, you’re probably more attuned to the importance of reading more diversely already. Have you tried asking them about their favourite books and writers? You might just discover something new that helps you empathise with their experience more, and find better ways to support them in fighting the good fight.

When you feel your reading world expanding and you’re ready to take the next step, seek out ways to support organisations that promote diversity in books. Check out We Need Diverse Books for starters. Ask at your local library (I know I sound like a broken record, but it’s really the best resource!) what you can do to encourage them to stock and promote diverse books. If you’re a student, look up your school’s policy on representation, and talk or write to faculty supervisors suggesting they add more diverse books to their reading lists. Check out literary awards that have strict diversity criteria, and boycott the ones that don’t. I’m pretty sure you’ll find, as I have, the more you prime yourself to see issues with diversity in your reading, the more you’ll notice them and the more you’ll notice ways to battle them, too!

Think I’m being hypocritical? You’re right, The List is mostly straight white males. Read my explanation here.


What are you doing to read more diversely this year? Do you have any more tips for supporting diverse authors and books? Let me know in the comments (or share with us over at KUWTP on Facebook!).

Check out the final installment in my How To Read More series – How To Read More Classic Books – here.

The Pilgrim’s Progress – John Bunyan

After I finished Little Women, I couldn’t help but pick up John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress. It was Louisa May Alcott’s father’s favourite book; he would read it aloud to his children, and encourage them to act it out, so it’s no surprise that she referenced it a lot in her work. Plus, its influence is clear in literature more generally: most notably, William Thackeray’s Vanity Fair is named for one of its settings. It also crops up in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, The Scarlet Letter, Jane Eyre, The Grapes of Wrath, and a bunch of others. The Pilgrim’s Progress is one of the most significant works of English literature, widely billed as being the first English novel. It has been translated into over 200 languages, and it has never been out of print. So, are you convinced? I am!

The book’s full name is The Pilgrim’s Progress from This World, to That Which Is To Come. Bunyan began work on it while he was in the pokey; he was imprisoned for violating the Conventicle Act, which forbade people from gathering for religious services outside the Church of England in the 17th century. Bunyan, of course, did not give a shit, and he got busted preaching in a field. The first edition was published in 1678, while he was still locked up, and then the expanded edition came out after he was freed, in 1679. All up, there were twelve editions published in his lifetime, each with new revisions. This version, the Penguin English Library Edition, reproduces the original as closely as possible, with just a few slight tweaks to spelling and punctuation for the comfort of the contemporary reader.

It reads like a part-poem, part-play, part-story. The narrator recounts a dream that he had in jail about a pilgrim – Christian – who abandons his wife and children to hike to Heaven. Well, as best I can tell, he read the Bible and he freaked the fuck out (don’t all good pilgrimage stories start that way?). He’s weighed down by a “great burden” (the knowledge of his “sin”), and he convinces himself he’ll sink on down to Hell if he doesn’t get his shit together – so off he goes!

Then there’s a second part about his wife and children following him, which I thought was kind of nice. If only all authors had dedicated sequels to the forgotten wife!


Bunyan’s allegorical tale, the academics say, stands out above his predecessors because his language was simple and straightforward, making it easier for the every-man to understand. To put it more simply, it’s The Divine Comedy for dummies. Dante’s work, and the similarities between them, are so obvious it’s like a brick hitting you over the head. Bunyan’s prose is a lot simpler to be sure, but in my mind Inferno is still the clear winner – if nothing else, it’s a lot more exciting. Plus, The Pilgrim’s Progress just isn’t very funny! The only laughs I got were from things that probably weren’t meant to be funny, like:

“She is a bold and impudent slut; she will talk with any man.”

Talk! Imagine! What a strumpet!

There are no chapters in this edition (or any other, as far as I can tell), which is annoying – it’s just one big block of text. Normally, I use those pauses in the narrative to scribble down my notes, and think over what I’ve just read. Putting the book down to do all that, without a chapter break, feels like interrupting someone in the middle of a monologue. I suppose it’s forgivable, being that it was the first English language novel in history and no one had told Bunyan about chapters and all, but still… ugh.

At least it doesn’t require much background knowledge of religion. And all of the characters have helpfully-descriptive names like “Faithful” and “Talkative” – makes it pretty easy to keep them all straight. And Bunyan wasn’t entirely without humour in this regard; he was a Protestant, and not all that fussed with the Catholic Church, so he named the decrepit and harmless giant character “Pope”. Ha!


It’s impossible to deny Bunyan’s impact on English literature, and the respect afforded to him as a result of that. No one dares hanging any shit on him for using the “it was all a dream” trope – I mean, he’s probably the reason that trope exists to begin with! That said, I would only recommend The Pilgrim’s Progress to people who read the footnotes. You need to have a deep abiding curiosity about the tradition of literature, and/or God, to get much of it. If that doesn’t sound like you, give Dante’s Inferno a go instead, or skip the centuries-old religious allegories altogether.

My favourite Amazon reviews of The Pilgrim’s Progress:

  • “Strange print style… great literature thouh. But the way it’s presented on paper is like a kids big coloring book. It’s like a picture book, but they forgot to add the pictures.” – orson orson
  • “The quality of the book exceeded my expectations.” Patricia M Nulf
  • “This book is about as far away from biblical salvation as you can be. The main character had to work for his salvation which is not what the bible teaches. John 6:47, Romans 4:5, Eph 2:8-9If you wish to confuse someone and see your friend or relative in hell, get them this book.” – Dave Nesbitt
  • “Tedious” – Amazon Customer9
  • “Like the names of the people.” – Amazon Customer
  • “this book has you lookin at your faith” – Debra Carroll
  • “This was a gift for my husband. I have not heard comments from him.” – SLC
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