Books I read because of other books

 

 Books in Books 

 

I love it when a favourite author mentions what books a character is reading, and in my teens, 20s and 30s I was forever reading books that I had come across via a mention in another book.

It's an idea that’s in the air at the moment: Caroline Crampton has done a riveting Shedunnit epi on Agatha Christie’s reading (and I am mentioned – you’ll have to listen to find out why), and there is a new book out on Jane Austen’s reading – blogfriend Trollopian brought it to my notice and I ordered a copy straightaway.

Jane Austen's Bookshelf: The women writers who shaped a legend : Romney, Rebecca: Amazon.co.uk: Books

So I’m looking today at some early influences on me - I think on the whole these days I am not going to discover new authors that way? (ie because I am so old). But it does still happen.

For the purposes of this blogpost, I am not talking about books that exist to recommend others – one of my great favourites is Claud Cockburn’s Bestseller, which had a huge effect of my reading and on this blog, and Julian Symons Bloody Murder had very useful (if not objective) recos for my early adventures in crime stories.

Here I am looking for a moment in a novel where one character reveals what book they are reading, and so I make a note…

I think I am not the only one. Please tell me if you did this, and tell us all your favourite finds.



Dorothy L Sayers (woman of the moment on the blog) – Peter Wimsey goes punting with Harriet in Gaudy Night, and the book he has with him is Religio Medici by Thomas Browne. Quite the challenge, but I found myself a Penguin copy (LPW’s was of course bound in calf with his engraved bookplate in it). It was not easy reading, and quite melancholy, but I have never regretted it.




Both Peter and Harriet were fond of Kai Lung, a character invented by Ernest Bramah, who would nowadays be accused of cultural appropriation. Kai Lung is an itinerant Chinese story-teller, who makes amusing and possibly wise remarks in the course of his activities. Wikipedia says these books have never been out of print, but I can tell you they were very difficult to find when I was looking for them. I eventually nabbed a 2ndhand copy of Kai Lung Unrolls his Mat, and found it fitfully amusing: I didn’t try to find any more. Bramah also wrote stories about Max Carrados, the blind detective – I am always convinced he was one of the sleuths parodied in Agatha Christie’s Partners in Crime, and I am always wrong.

Anyway, the real point here was that Lord Peter says to Harriet (this is Strong Poison, she is in jail) “And if you can quote Kai Lung, we should certainly get on together.”

Obviously what I actually wanted was a boyfriend who would be impressed by my general literary abilities.

Lord Peter’s mother is reading an AJ Cronin book in Busman’s Honeymoon, but not enjoying it. That didn’t tempt me to read it, but you can find more on Cronin here.



Antonia Forest – the children’s/YA author who inspires fanatical devotion among her fans, and is almost completely unknown elsewhere -  is responsible for many a literary excursion. For years after I read End of Term, I was longing to find a ghost story mentioned there, And a Perle in the Middes by Eleanor Farjeon. It took the coming of the internet to enable me to track it down and read it: Forest doesn't name the author, and it is a short story in a book with another name. Only Google could help, I had to wait for it to be invented. It is one of the most charming stories you could ever read, and deals with the ever-fascinating phenomenon of Boy Bishops. You can read a lot more about all this in a blogpost here.

Forest was forever most splendidly telling you what the characters read. She set me off onto the Mask of Apollo by Mary Renault – an all-time favourite, one of those books I read every 5 years or so: included in blogpost on another book here.

She also mentioned books that I had already read, eg blog favourite Brat Farrar, which made me quite proud, though I did worry that I was too much like Ginty, when we all wanted to be her sister Nicola.

Just look at this priceless exchange between the excellent Nicola, and the handsome boy-next-door, Patrick, in the 1976 Attic Term:

‘[there’s] A couple of books I meant to lend Ginty – would you mind taking them back with you?’

Nicola took the books he was holding out, glancing instinctively at the titles: one was Mediaeval Latin Lyrics, the other, three paper-backs, a translation of Dante—a name she knew, vaguely, from Virgil lessons—by—how most peculiar !—the same person who wrote Lord Peter Wimsey. . . . “Go hon!” thought Nicola sceptically at her sister Ginty, for this was not at all the sort of thing Ginty read, left to herself. What Gin liked were thrillers and grown-up novels like The Constant Nymph . . . she must have been doing a massive showoff to Patrick to have borrowed these. ...

(I said before: ‘This should place the book [ie Constant Nymph] exactly even if you haven’t read it.’)

 

Mediaeval Latin Lyrics is a wonderful, much-loved book round here: I’m not sure if I read it because of Forest, but it would have been in my head.



Now Margaret Kennedy’s The Constant Nymph (like Lord Peter Wimsey) is mentioned in many other books – I have featured it several times on the blog and did a whole post called ‘Constant Nymph in Popular Culture’, follow-up to a previous list of mentions. I certainly wanted to read the book a long time before I got hold of it – but I think because of  Nancy Mitford’s The Pursuit of Love (endless posts). Here the cousins tease Fanny with it, predicting all kinds of trouble for a forthcoming marriage: ‘soon I was dying at a Brussels boarding-house, in the arms of Aunt Emily’s husband.’

And of course – this is very circular – Constant Nymph features in Sayers’ The Nine Tailors : young Hilary Thorpe wants to write: ‘I’ll write novels. Best sellers. The sort that everybody goes potty over. Not just bosh ones, but like The Constant Nymph.’

Another much-mentioned author is Charlotte M Yonge, and it was frequent references to The Daisy Chain in other books that made me eventually seek it out: again I had to do a whole post on her ubiquity, Charlotte M Yonge Out in the World. There I also mention ‘The Heir Of Redclyffe’,  known to generations of young women as ‘the book that made Jo March cry’ in  Little Women.  Jo also enjoyed The Vicar of Wakefield, as featured on the blog very recently.

 


I read The Young Visiters by Daisy Ashford because it is mentioned in Josephine Tey’s Miss Pym Disposes. (a great blog favourite and mentioned all over the place , and yes it took me to the Edgar Awards in NY). One character lends it to another as a familiar favourite, and both of them are snooty about a woman who didn’t appreciate it. (Very Tey-ish, she has an opinion on everything). The book did make me smile, as promised by Miss Pym.

This is a long post, and getting very circular! I keep going round the same authors (I haven't at all finished with Antonia Forest - the Brontes for those in the know about Peter's Room...). In my life there have been many others. But I’ll end it there for now, and hope for some responses from readers, and we can do another post…

Comments

  1. Does nobody namecheck The Diary of a Nobody? People found it hilarious, though the humour is sometimes cruel, and frequently based on class. "I left the room with silent dignity, but unfortunately tripped over the mat." (Lucy)

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    1. Yes, it's surprising it isn't mentioned more, it was so popular and successful, and very much that Punch humour. I was impatient with it when I read it in my teens, but now find it highly enjoyable.
      Evelyn Waugh, in a letter to Nancy Mitford about someone having to pay out unexpectedly, references Mr Pooter at the East Acton Volunteers Ball, where he orders food and drink without realizing he will have to pay for it, and is outraged..

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  2. I only ever had a chunk of The Daisy Chain and all I can remember is that a child keeps trying to spell Grosvenor and it comes out as Grovensor.

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    1. I don't remember that, but very reasonable to mis-spell Grosvenor, a very difficult word

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  3. Did readers of Our Mutual Friend search vainly for copies of The Decline and Fall of the Russian Empire?
    Did the non-existence of that book inspire Saki to write The Rise of the Russian Empire?

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    1. Someone commented online that books can also set you off looking for non-existent items, authors, artists. And it can be very worrying when you aren't sure if a book is real or not, and you feel you ought to know...
      Good idea on Saki - I bet you've read it, even though no-one else has.

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    2. I went to enormous trouble to find and read The Rise of the Russian Empire, when you had to be trying for second Ph.D. to get into the British Museum Library. Nowadays it's on Gutenberg!

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    3. Democratization of reading!
      Perhaps it was a good thing the Internet didn't arrive earlier in my life - I fear as a teen I would just have spent even more time reading and not doing the stuff I was meant to do.
      I used to get so curious about things I read in books (other books and also other things) and it was so infuriating not to be able to get hold of the book, or find out about things.

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    4. Faux books! I would dearly love to find "The Higher Common Sense" by the Abbe Fausse-Maigre, so important to Flora as she sets about to civilize the inhabitants of Gibbons' "Cold Comfort Farm." It seems to be some kind of mash-up of the Book of Proverbs, the Stoics, and Sun Tzu. -- Commenter "Trollopian"

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    5. Oh great choice! You should write it yourself...

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  4. What a brilliant post, Moira! I know there are plenty of books I read because of other books I read. Can't think of specific titles now, but honestly, I think we do that sort of 'chain reading.' And you've had a real breadth of reading!

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    1. 'Chain reading' is a great phrase for it, I will remember that. It was great fun remembering my examples, and I keep thinking of more.

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  5. There is danger when this happens too young - naturally, I found a copy of Pilgrim's Progress after reading Little Women but at 8 or so I was baffled and did not finish. But now I can imagine, in another era, a family reading it aloud and discussing with great enjoyment. I remember at about that same age coming across a reference to The Grapes of Wrath and thinking to myself, "I like grapes, let's find it at the library." Turned out, I did not like grapes as much as I thought!

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    1. You are right, I think I read many things too early because of that. I was a great fan of JD Salinger, and read Great Gatsby because of a reference in the Glass stories: ''The Great Gatsby was my Tom Sawyer', which now strikes me as the height of affectation. I thought I'd better read it (and I had enjoyed Tom Sawyer very much). I dutifully did so. When I reread Gatsby 10 years or so later I was astonished to find how little I had understood it.

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    2. I read "Rifleman Dodd" at age eleven or so, and fortunately much of it went over my head. When the Commandant of the Marine Corps placed it on his required reading list, I re-read it at twenty-six and was appalled.

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    3. I hadn't heard of it, and vaguely thought it must be an American book, perhaps about the Civil War. So I was surprised to find it was CS Forester. 'Popular with military personnel' it says on the internet. It sounds just the kind of book I don't enjoy anyway (where's O Douglas and Scottish country life when you need it?) - but I need more detail on its being appalling. Bloodthirsty? Jingoistic?

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    4. Brutally realistic account of guerilla warfare in Napoleonic Spain.

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    5. Yes so I gathered. I did not feel drawn to read it...

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  6. I read the Mystery of the Yellow Room because of references in Carr's works. I found it underwhelming. I suppose my reading of Shakespeare may have been inspired by referenences in Agatha Christie and other English pop litterature. Not an underwhelming experience.

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    1. Yellow Room, yes, fair. There are many early crime books that proved a disappointment to me, all much recommended by writers I like.
      Shakespeare we were taught at school, but he miraculously overcame that.

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  7. The Grosvenor/Grovensor incident is Susan Merrifield in Yonge's The Stokesley Secret, not The Daisy Chain.

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    1. Thanks for clarity, I haven't read that one so don't feel so bad about not remembering it.

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  8. Oh, this could go on for a long time, couldn't it? And delightfully so, too.

    I'll just mention D. E. Stevenson here, since all her (good) characters read everything they can get their hands on, and even when not cited, references get tossed around, and everyone knows what they mean (except, of course, the less sympathetic characters). And yes, The Daisy Chain is mentioned, by a mother who thinks that's what her daughters should be reading.

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    1. I could certainly read the comments all day, and there have been some great ones on social media too.
      Yes DES was one of several authors who enabled you to guess whether a character was nice or nasty by whether they could cap each others quotations, swap book titles etc. (Like Lord Peter and Harriet above). And I sigh for its being a cliche, while of course still id-ing quotes, noting which books I've read etc.
      (In Jilly Cooper, if someone is kind to animals and can quote poetry, they will be good. No exceptions)

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  9. Stephen King makes a comment about Robertson Davies' Deptford Trilogy in Tommyknockers. I don't remember what King wrote, but the Deptford books are *fascinating*.

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    1. Oh very interesting. I love Robertson Davies, and I also rather admire Stephen King. And he is both extremely well-read and very generous to other authors.

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  10. I've found so many books this way. Jo March's Undine and Sintram were a challenge and a triumph, pre internet. But although I eventually discovered a Silver Fairy Book it didn't contain the Mary Poppins princes. Noel Streatfeild and Eve Garnett sent me searching for poems in the library near my primary school when I was 9 or 10, and I still remember the kind, amused librarian who helped me track them down.

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  11. Sorry, sorry, I've done it again. I'm not anon.

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    1. [Blogger is wholly to blame, don't apologize, though I love to know it's you]. A lovely collection of memories. Oh for a great librarian who doesn't treat children as noisy nuisances.
      I never was able to locate Undine and Sintram, well done. When I read Edith Wharton's Custom of the Country, the heroine's being Undine Spragg imediately reminded me of Little women for that reason.
      There was a book called The Wide Wide World often mentioned in 19th C US books - I never knew what that was either, and I have just looked up the plot. Goodness. Well worth a look.

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    2. This is such a fascinating topic- I'm so glad to have found it today. The WW World is surprisingly readable, I seem to remember I found it on Project Gutenberg. Undine and Sintram are two separate stories/books- that's why they are so very hard to find.

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    3. So delighted & impressed to find someone who has read The Wide Wide World!
      It's hard to remember what it was like back in the day - you couldn't just look things up easily, let alone find them. I didn't even know who wrote U & S - let alone that there were two books!

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    4. Did anyone mention Undine Spragg in the entries on Becky Sharp-type characters?
      If we didn't, it was very remiss of us.

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    5. Oh you are so right! I don't think we did, and we should've. She is splendid, I love her.

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  12. Dorothy Gilman's book The Maze in the Heart of the Castle (1983) is a story about orphaned teen Colin who must find his way out of the maze. However, Gilman first described this story in her adult novel, The Tightrope Walker (1979), a somewhat wistful standalone in which Amelia Jones begins her own journey of self-discovery with references to Maze as being Amelia's favorite childhood story. Gilman must have fallen in love with her own description of Maze, so subsequently wrote that book. I always wondered if anyone besides my sisters and me noticed this sequence of events. Gilman is better known for her Mrs. Pollifax books but the others are good too.

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    1. Wow, that's a very complex line!
      I did a post referencing various books which featured imaginary children's books
      https://clothesinbooks.blogspot.com/2023/08/treasure-hunts-skeleton-key-masquerade.html - it's a strange and slightly creepy area. But that is a very extreme example!

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  13. I was recently told by a twelve year old that they didn't like children's books, but they liked grown-up novels like 'It Ends With Us' which was their absolute favourite. I went and googled because I didn't know it; and wondered if that could be the modern 'Constant Nymph'. The plots seem equally grim. I read 'Constant Nymph', only quite recently, because of the mention in Antonia Forest, but as a child/teenager I read all of Hornblower, Mask of Apollo, DL Sayers, The Cruel Sea, and Jane Austen (though I like to think I'd have got to Austen anyway!) because of Nicola.

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    1. That's a fascinating comparison with It Ends With Us - I can see where a young person would feel like that. There is a timelessness of the 12yo saying they like grown-up novels - that would have been me! I wrote a couple of things for the i newspaper about Colleen Hoover (the author concerned) whom I had never heard of before: they asked me to investigate. There is a whole world out there concerning her, it was a real rabbit-hole to go down! the books are not the highest literature, but I thought they were strange but good, interesting - she's creating her own genre. And she herself seems to be a delight.

      I'm actually reading Persuasion now (for a thing, as young people say), and I always think of Nicola when I do: it is that perfect framing of The Ready-Made Family plot.
      However even Nicola couldn't get me to enjoy Hornblower and other sea-related novels...

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  14. The book I keep trying to read because characters in other books admire it is Proust’s “In Search of Lost Time” - particularly prominent in Anthony Powell’s “A Dance to the Music of Time”. I’ve yet to get more than two-thirds of the way through “Swann’s Way”, though I haven’t given up hope. A book I actually HAVE read is “The Perilous Lovers”, a torrid historical romance by John Oxenham which I picked up purely because Michael Cantrip, a character in Sarah Caldwell’s “The Sirens Sang of Murder”, finds it so enthralling that he nicks it from his hotel and carries it with him on a long and incident-filled journey from Sark to Monte Carlo.

    Sovay

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    1. I read Proust originally, years ago, by setting myself a target of so many pages a day, and persevered, and ended up loving it so much that when I finished it I started it over again. But I can quite see it doesn't work for everyone.

      I am always impressed by your Sarah Caudwell knowledge (Biggles!) - I probably thought it was an imaginary, which is an interesting sideline from the above post. Was it good?

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    2. Is The Perilous Lovers mentioned in Bestseller by Sarah Caudwell's father, Claud Cockburn? It sounds a suitable title.
      Not on he 'net as far as I can tell.

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    3. I am saying no, without checking, because I feel I know the name of every book mentioned in it - but I will check.
      But oh my goodness - John Oxenham was the father of Elsie J Oxenham, who wrote strange stories for girls combining school stories, grown up life, and English folk dancing. I devoured them when I was young. The Abbey Girls. There was a school, and then an old house next door which an old man left to a young woman after he saw her doing her folk-dancing in the moonlight in the Abbey ruins. these were strange, strange stories...

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    4. I assumed it was imaginary too, until I came across it with its cover hanging off in a vast bookshop in Rochester and couldn’t resist. I rather enjoyed it and still have it somewhere but very unlikely that it was a bestseller so I don’t think it would have made the Claud Cockburn book. John Oxenham doesn’t get much of a write-up on Wikipedia though I did pick up on the connection with Elsie J.

      My problem with Proust is the sheer volume - at every attempt I find much to enjoy but sooner or later I’m overwhelmed by the thought of how much is still to come. I may give your system a try though - may also try the more recent translation as the copy I had was Scott-Montcrieffe which I gather is out of favour these days.

      Sovay

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    5. Concentrate on Swann's Way and don't worry about what else is coming!
      I think (personal opinion) that a later translation would be a help: Scott/Moncrieff has its problems. I like Lydia Davis's version of Swann's way (She didn't do all the books - that set has different translators for different books I think)
      I found Edmund Wilson's Axel's Castle very very helpful with Proust (and also with James Joyce and others...): it's a book that really helped me embark on a lot of 'difficult' literature. (That may be because I never did any formal study of literature, it was my beginner course!)

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    6. Scott Moncrieff did his own improvements to Proust - all the Shakespeare references are SC. I think if him like Urquhart with Rabelais and Florio with Montaigne - collaborations rather than translations.

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    7. It starts with the title: Remembrance of Things Past is not at all the same thing as In Search of Lost Time. As you say - SM definitely had his own input. There's also a notorious moment where he didn't understand a crude sexual reference in the original French, and mistranslated it...
      It's a nice idea to find Shakespeare references, but there's something very English about doing that.

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    8. .... though SC was very Scottish. It shows my innocence - I never noticed the "crude sexual reference".
      That was me, suppressedby blogspot above.

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    9. [I guessed it was you] Obviously I learned only VERY respectable French, so I had to be told about this mistake through Proust side-reading. Albertine refers to 'me faire casser le pot', which Scott Moncrieff doesn't really deal with. You can find out the truth easily on this webpage https://www.readingproust.com/prisoner.htm

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    10. ... I had dithered between 'British' and 'English' when writing the reply, and obv chose the wrong one. But I can stand by the Englishness of Shakespeare and of imposing that on a French masterpiece...

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    11. Perhaps SC - who was enthusiastically gay himself - understood the reference but didn't think he could get away with an accurate translation, given the state of public morality in the UK then.

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    12. I think you're generously trying to give the benefit of the doubt here! Who can say for sure, but I have read that his knowledge of what was in those days underworld French was not good enough for the darker side of Proust's sexuality.... There is a theory that the later Kilmartin/Enright revisions are hampered by the problems with his version, that they were too respectful of him. I most certainly would not be in a position to adjudge on that myself, but I was interested to read it, and on occasion when I have compared translations of passages, I never come down in favour of Moncrieff.

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    13. Really interesting discussion about the Proust translations! I shall track down a copy of the Lydia Davis and re-embark.

      Sovay

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    14. Give it a try anyway - but no book is for everyone

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  15. On the subject of Undine Spragg (yes, she's great), it took me years to work out what 'Leglong' was, her mishearing or misunderstanding of 'L'aiglon.'

    This is such a rich subject, and immediately made me think of Mildred Lathbury carrying a biography of Cardinal Newman in a string bag along with a loaf of bread. But we don't get an actual title - perhaps at the time there was only one biography.

    The Constant Nymph turns up in Elizabeth Jane Howard's Falling, used by the ghastly Henry to convince the naive heroine of his niceness and hard life; he also uses Jane Eyre in a similar way. Misuse of books?

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    1. Yes the book is mentioned a few times isn't it? And in Glass of Blessings there is an unnamed character with a string bag, loaf of bread and books from the library. Such a Pym trope!
      Men using books to influence women! What a great topic, must try to think of more.
      Someone once told me that men (undergraduate age) pretended a huge interest in Sylvia Plath in order to impress women...

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  16. Books recommended by favourite authors are great, I have always found great ones, and great new authors, through that.

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  17. I can't remember if it was actually named in Northanger Abbey, but I read The Castle of Otranto because of Catherine. Didn't really care for Otranto, but I could see how it might fascinate people.

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    1. Catherine and Isabella read the Mysteries of Udolpho by Mrs Radcliffe. It's much longer than The Castle of Otranto. I read Udolpho decades ago and found it rather a slog. I remember the heroine always locking herself in her bedroom.
      Clare

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    2. I found them hard going too. I am really enjoying the book mentioned at the top of the post, about the books Jane Austen read.

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  18. Moira, you would have liked this exhibit which I saw in New York last month: https://grolierclub.wordpress.com/2024/12/05/now-open-in-our-second-floor-gallery-imaginary-books/ It was very clever.

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    1. Someone else has recommended this exhibition and it looks fabulous, I felt like tripping over to NY to see it. And I take it as a huge compliment that people thought of me when they saw it.

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  19. I am pretty sure that Peter Wimsey also quotes THE YOUNG VISITERS: "The Duke drained a dipper of brandy and water and became again the perfect English gentleman." -- No, by application to the copy of the 1951 US publication (with delightful illustrations by William Pene du Bois) that I have owned, who knows why, since childhood, I find that line is absent. Frustrating; I am sure I once tracked down, and now have forgotten, the source. Still, I am sure he would have known it; does Sayers have him refer to it directly? Peter's and Harriet's tastes seem to me to be classically Modernist under their catholicity (as accurately claimed by Peter): sharply decorative, keen on wit, irony, and melancholy, inspired by conceited late-early-moderns like Donne but with a nostalgic fondness for childhood Victoriana.

    Oh, here, spelling and all. "You could hardly moove in the gay throng. Dukes were as nought as there were a good lot of Princes and Arch Dukes as it was a very superior levie indeed."

    I think I'm the one that recommended the unwritten books show -- which I have not yet seen!
    -- nbm in brooklyn

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    1. Yes, on social media with a different name, but Brooklyn!
      You can very much imagine Peter and Harriet liking The Young Visiters (and probably being ruder about Helen, suggesting she wouldn't appreciate it.)
      I think Stephen Leacock for the dipper of brandy...

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    2. No doubt if Peter were ever to come to the title he would be a very Arch Duke indeed.

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