Top 5 Literary Villains

Another booklover on Instagram prompted the thought of antagonists in literature. It’s the characters that drive us to hate and repugnance, the ones we gnash our teeth at when we read. I thought I’d compile my top 5.

In fifth spot – Joffrey Baratheon

Ah Joffrey, the first-born of the Baratheon clan, with a strong claim to the throne. All he had to do was to live his life, lead his subjects well, and not be a misogynist. These would probably have tilted popular opinion (ie the masses) in his favour somewhat, and prevented the disaster that ensued. Joffrey was vile and evil, and every scene he was part of made me so livid. Shoutout to Jack Gleeson, who did such a fantastic job portraying him on TV.

Source: Wikipedia

In fourth spot – Dolores Umbridge

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix – I read when I was 13. As an angsty teenager, I was convinced that adults could be up to no good. Umbridge was a cloying character, like a horrible pill you had to swallow. Her actions were evil, but it was her delight at torturing students that set her as the true sociopath. I remember shaking the book with rage when she dismissed Prof Trelawney and her dialogues made me feel that no joy was left in the world. A brilliantly written character and also played wonderfully by Imelda Staunton.

Source: Warner Bros

In third spot – Uriah Heep

I had to read David Copperfield in school (Class 7, I was 11). I distinctly remember how relatable Heep was, with his unguence and sycophancy (also words I learnt that year). Heep was defrauding his employer – all the while being another one of the sickeningly cloying personalities. I am sure we have come across many such people in life, who are so fake you have to laugh, or you’ll cry. If you haven’t read this wonderful classic, then think of this character as Grima Wormtongue in GoT, who destroys King Theoden of Rohan by filling his head with nonsense.

Source: Wikipedia

In second spot – Mrs Danvers

It is impossible to read Rebecca and not be terrified of Mrs Danvers. The second Mrs De Winters is utterly traumatised by Mrs Danvers and everything she stands for. As I reader, I remember wondering if perhaps she was actually supernatural – a ghost or a witch. Her complete devotion and obsession with Rebecca becomes clearer as we progress through the plot, culminating in a truly unsettling scene in Rebecca’s bedchambers, which Mrs Danvers continued to preserve after her death. Terrifying.

Source: The Female Villains Wiki

In top spot – Captain Ahab

Moby Dick is one of my all-time favourite novels. I was 8 when I read the abridged version one summer. Over the years, I have re-read it many times. Captain Ahab is narcisstic, obsessed and the worst version of himself. But in his portrayal lies the seed that we have seen in so many male world leaders of late. Being in seats of absolute power, but using it only to drive authoritarian regimes of hate and divisiveness. Even if you ignore the political themes, Ahab’s single-minded focus on the whale is a wonderful piece of writing and a brilliant thing to lose yourself in, as a reader. My feelings for him are worse than anger, hate or repulsion – he makes me sick. And that’s what makes him my top antagonist!

Source: Wikipedia

Who’s your favourite? Tell me in the comments below!

The Daylight Gate … a review

I was at Lancaster University last week and spending some time walking around Pendle College and ended up at their very impressive student library. What do I do when that happens? Pick up a book and make a beeline for an empty couch! I picked up this book because I had been to Lancaster Castle the day before and only just found out about the area’s connection to witches!

The book is set in 1612, when James I, a Protestant King, is on the throne. He was James VI of Scotland, of course, the son of Mary Queen of Scots. Apparently, he was obsessed with ridding his realm of twin evils, witchcraft and Catholicism, at any price…

The narrative has an old fashioned writing style, it is not halting though, just different. The local sheriff at Pendle hill interrupts a strange meeting as he suspects it to be a witches’ Sabbat. I won’t tell you how, but even Shakespeare plays a cameo – how cool is that!?

It is a very short read although it looks deceptively thick. It took me a couple of hours and a bit to read, although I was totally engrossed in it. The library was fab and the weather outside was, well, underwhelming, so there.

Eyes Like Lighthouses When the Boats Come Home … a review

I’ve taken a long time to write this one up. But it is a book of poems, so my excuse is that I read it in fits and bursts, on my commute as well as in bed, savouring it slowly. When Dane Cobain, the poet, asked me to review it, I expected something, I don’t know what the word for it is, traditional. But this book has been a pleasant surprise on that front. Allow me to elaborate by using some examples.

There’s no such thing as a gentleman

anymore;

just men and women

stumbling through life

in the same way they always have.

Welcome to society,

our capitalistic, gender-neutral

society;

we are all equal

in our misery.

I thought these lines were beautiful, but sad, accepting, but rebellious. It is the harsh reality of our times, put quite in a brutally honest way. I haven’t read something like this for a while. Read this

Then the web hit its terrible teens

and we signed up en masse

to Facebook, Twitter, YouTube,

Pinterest, LinkedIn, Instagram, Snapchat

and WhatsApp,

and now our fragmented entities

are just stressful lives

lived out in public;

mass hallucinations and delirium

pulling us together and

pushing us apart.

Another set of lines that struck a chord for me. But it is not just the online world that Cobain rips apart. It is everything from religion to region, with a good measure of myth and mystery. Some of it is also very personal, very intimate, like having a drink with the poet and the things he might let spill over it.

I’ll leave you with a small set of lines which could be quite controversial, but are especially relevant with so many upcoming referendums and elections.

If Britain

is only for the British,

then I’m no longer

British.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book. I have a soft corner for poetry and Cobain weaves his frustrations with the modern world deftly into stanzas which come across as masterfully crafted.

 

Happy Birthday, Charles Dickens!

Happy Birthday, Christopher Marlowe!

Motif Challenge Feb

For this challenge, I read Trigger Warnings last month, so here is the review…

Trigger Warnings … a review

I got this book as a Christmas present from a faraway friend who has the most eclectic reading taste.She asked me if I had read any Gaiman and when I said no, she proceeded to post me this. I can safely say that this is unline anything I have read in a long time.

This book is primarily fantasy fiction, with elements of magic realism, surrealism, and general strangeness that run in a common vein throughout. Made up of many short stories and poems of varying lengths, this has a  nice dip-in-and-out quality to it. And that is exactly what I needed as I have been travelling over the holidays to various people. I like to read short stories which then don’t weigh on my mind when I’m doing other stuff and make me in any way anti-social.

Some of the stories have stayed with me. Especially, a modern day retelling of Cinderella, which is my favourite Disney move since I was three! Gaiman is a natural poet and his writing has a haunting, wistful quality about it that is very engaging. In some ways, this book was a reminder of feelings of reading Murakami’s The Elephant Vanishes. And as far as I am concerned, being reminded of his writing is never a bad thing.

If you fancy a different kind of read, shorter fiction, fairy-tales for adults, or just want to add some surreal to the January fog, this is your book. Enjoy!

The Girl in the Spider’s Web … a review

I enjoyed the Millenium series immensely. I read them in the summer of 2011 and all I remember of that summer is the entirety of those books and reading them at various places battling the Delhi heat. So when I heard that there was going to be a fourth book, I was surprised that it had almost next to none publicity. I mean, when Mockingbird‘s sequel released in July, the world practically drove themselves into a frenzy!

Anyway, the original author is dead, so this is controversially written by David Lagercrantz,who has continued on from where Larsson left off. I will not tell you about the controversy here because you can Google it. What I will tell you is that the way he has done it is impressive. The book is very well written and reads seamlessly like the previous ones (although I am mindful that I have read them all in translation).

Lizbeth, one of the most striking and unforgettable characters in modern fiction is portrayed with class and finesse, something that readers have admired bout her. Our journalist Blomkvist and his business partner Berger are just the same, like old friends to the reader. And the plot too, is well thought out and well researched. As usual, Nordic noir is set in the backdrop of a cold frigid winter and that always heightens the excitement. But the action spans across various locations and the inclusion of a child with special needs just ties up everything brilliantly.

What I will say is though that the pace seemed a little slow as compared to the previous books. Those ones were thicker and more complex plot-wise. But I suppose that is where the difference of the actual author comes out. For what it’s worth, Lagercrantz has done a fine job and I really hope that he continues to rite more novels with the same beloved characters. Especially if Craig and Mara are around to act in the movies!

The True Deceiver … a review

I picked up another Scandi noir, this time, set in Norway. Really, their harsh winter landscapes with piles and piles of snow make for such good murder mystery backgrounds. I’m struggling with a blurb here, so I’ve lifted this straight from Goodreads:

“Snow has been falling on the village all winter long. It covers windows and piles up in front of doors. The sun rises late and sets early, and even during the day there is little to do but trade tales. This year everybody’s talking about Katri Kling and Anna Aemelin. Katri is a yellow-eyed outcast who lives with her simpleminded brother and a dog she refuses to name. She has no use for the white lies that smooth social intercourse, and she can see straight to the core of any problem. Anna, an elderly children’s book illustrator, appears to be Katri’s opposite: a respected member of the village, if an aloof one. Anna lives in a large empty house, venturing out in the spring to paint exquisitely detailed forest scenes. But Anna has something Katri wants, and to get it Katri will take control of Anna’s life and livelihood. By the time spring arrives, the two women are caught in a conflict of ideals that threatens to strip them of their most cherished illusions.”

I am not very sure what I felt about this book. It is a very well-written book. So much so that as a reader I was hooked even if no action was taking place. The descriptions of Anna’s ‘rabbit house’ of the dog with no name and of the boat ties the parts in quite effortlessly. Katri reminded me of Mrs Danvers, and that’s never a bad thing. But I was a little disappointed in the climax appearing almost at the very end. Then again, it is not a very long book. So it wasn’t like I had to wait ages for it. I finished the book in two evenings of reading so overall, I would recommend it as a trialling of this new author I haven’t read before.

#writing201 #fingers #prosepoem #assonance

A Week In-sanity

day 01
The webbed fingers of lotus leaf veins, move outwards, and quiver along the surface of water. When the breeze makes them gently sway, they send ripples out, like a thought stream that has just entered my mind.

day 02
The bile yellow light of the bulb spills out of the windows and onto the fingers of the roof thatch. A cricket sings, a flog croaks, and hot summer sweat runs down the back of the woman in the kitchen, making rotis.

day 03
When she sang out loud, all he wanted to do was run his fingers down her neck, the back of it, her spine, and the small of her back. He thought he was in love, until he met her… now he is obsessed with her voice.

day 04
On a cold, blue morning, as the sun tried to come up the horizon and push out through the clouds like the birthing of a child, dull gold sunlight crept in through the blinds in slanted fingers of honey.

day 05
Cycling down the steep slope, no brakes, pedals freewheeling… the wind cuts through her hair and makes it blow past her ears in dark black fingers of freedom… she comes to a slow halt as the slopes die down.

day 06
In a glade within a dark, deep forest, a lone flower grows, with finger-like scarlet petals. A sudden stillness is disturbed by a sensational flurry of butterflies, as they twine up in turrets and go higher, higher.

day 07
On his palette, an explosion of colours. I asked him, ‘What are you going to draw for me?’ ‘Your hands,’ he said. ‘All those colours, friend?’ ‘So I can trace the outline of every finger as I see it in my head – different.’