Salman Rushdie's Midnight's Children - India's different (real) face

My first (and only until now) encounter with the magic of magical realism was Gabriel Garcia Marquez's 100 Years of Solitude. I was much younger (and naive) back then and I quickly deemed the book "unreadable" and left it alone in the list of "Books I just couldn't finish no matter how hard I tried". Ever since then I agreed with myself that magical realism was not a bite for my mouth.

Salman Rushdie's Midnight's Children stayed on my bookshelf for almost a month after I picked it up for a friend and promised vigorously to read it and give my opinion. However, its time didn't come until my friend called me and said she would be leaving and thus needs the book in 3 days. 3 days to read a 650 pages book when you have exams and interviews is not an easy task but I somehow felt I must read it before I return it. So i committed myself to sleepless nights, reading exactly 220 pages per day. And trust me, one page of Midnight's Children is not as easily read as one page of The Hunger Games, for example.

The book is set in India encompassing the years before its independence from the British Empire until its partition into India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh. In these turbulent times, Saleem Sinai is born and raised. To be exact, he is born on midnight the same day that India wins its long-awaited independence. To make this day even more rememberable, the Indian government announces that the children born on that day will be special and strongly connected to Indian history. However, Saleem along with 1,000 other midnight's children are more special and dangerous than India intended or wanted them to be.

Even though the title is Midnight's Children, the novel rather focuses on the life of one of them, Saleem, who was the first child of the new independent state. Despite that, Saleem is hardly a lucky child. As a midnight child, he has special telepathic powers, who enable him to connect to the other special kids. In addition, he possesses an extraordinary smell, able to detect feelings of hatred, love, fear, and despair. Through his telepathic communication with the rest of the special children, Saleem discovers a variety of skills, which if put to the right purpose can be beneficial for his country. Thus, Saleem starts to believe that he was born for a purpose, and this purpose is to unite the midnight's children and to become a sort of an army for the sake of India. Unfortunately, he altruistic (and rather naive) plans are set to failure as most of his peers are unwilling or unable to grasp his idea. Saleem, on the other hand, is faced with the daily problems of his drunk father, his mother in-love with another man, his mischievous sister, and his own issues of growing up and falling in love. Moreover, his unique gift is more often a curse, rather than a blessing. Despite that he never fully abandons the idea that his birth must somehow be connected and important to the future of India.

And indeed it is. The ups and downs, the successes and failures of the huge continent are mirrored in Saleem's life. Reversely, some of his actions have visible and changing effects on India. Thus, one of the midnight's children involuntarily fulfilled the government's prophecy - his life was to be inevitably connected to the life of his country. Midnight's Children is not merely a novel about a bunch of kids with special powers. Along with the life story of Saleem, Salman Rushdie manages to provide a thorough and understandable picture of India's complicated and turbulent history. Apologies to my Indian friends, but before that book I was completely ignorant about that part of the world and the wars and clashes that shaped its contemporary outlook. However, while reading Rushdie's epic, I constantly found myself searching through Wikipedia to make sense of the historical mess, to research names of leaders and battles, and to distinguish between fiction and reality. In fact, Rushdie produces a literary masterpiece which both grasps the main aspects of Indian history and provides a comprehensible picture of this distant continent with its culture, beliefs, and morals. Rushdie's magical realism is so uniquely presented that I, as a reader, almost believed the connections between Saleem and India. Rushdie carefully balances between reality and fiction, between the everyday and the magical, between the boy and the country and the result is a masterpiece, which tells you a different story about India, a story you are more likely to believe and understand than any other historical narrative.

What makes the novel difficult to read is the language and the amount of details. Rushdie is not an easy read, even for me (as I am used to reading in English for a couple of years now). In addition, the author indeed did his research job and sometimes history becomes too overwhelming and burdensome to bear. It takes time (which unfortunately I didn't have) to fully grasp the magician Rushdie and his extraordinary talent. I will be rereading this, for sure.

Salman Rushdie's novel was well appraised by readers, having won the Booker Prize and the Best of the Booker prize but also much criticized, especially from political leaders. One of them, the famous Indira Gandhi actually sued Rushdie for one sentence, which depicted her as guilty for her husband's death. The political leader won and the sentence was removed. However, I believe Rushdie is not an author easily sanctioned or criticized. His other novels (which I will definitely be looking to read) are banned in some Asian countries. However, when you are willing to tell the truth, you must be prepared that others might not be prepared to hear it.

Insanity in The Black Obelisk - Germany between the two world wars

I continue with the absolutely amazing Erich Maria Remarque and of course with the topic of war. Unlike A Time to Love and a Time to Die, which is set during WWII, The Black Obelisk examines the period between the two wars. Set in a small German town, the novel portrays a period of hyperinflation, disillusionment, post-war suffering, and rising of nationalism through the eyes of Ludwig, a naive post-war veteran trying to find his place in a greedy and insensitive world. More philosophical than descriptive, Remarque again denounces war and condemns its terror, brutality and senselessness.

War is terrible. On that there are no two opinions. We have had an enormous amount of literature, both fiction and non-fiction on the subject so we know how it affects people, how it awakens their most animal traits, and how it destroys compassion, love, and emotions. But what about the period between the two wars? How did Germany and its people recover from the disastrous defeat and what spirits and thoughts led to a even more disastrous war? Didn't Germans suffer enough? Didn't they learn their lesson from WWI or did they think the new nationalistic movement was going to restore Germany's fading glory? Remarque attempts to give us an answer in The Black Obelisk, where the insane, the disillusioned, the opportunistic, the impostors, the nationalists, the crippled, and the naive shape the richness of characters and moods in 1920s Germany.

Ludwig, like most of the men, is a post-war veteran trying to find another occupation and another life. Ironically, his destiny has brought him again close to death, working as an assistant in a funeral house. Proximity to death allows Ludwig to analyze people. How else would you know the true character of someone if you don't see him facing and handling death. Some cry, others get depressed, and third ones celebrate. But it is in the way we deal with it that our true character emerges. Through Ludwig's constant interactions Remarque gives an exhaustive portrait of the German population of that time. Hyperinflation has made the DEM invaluable. People receive money in the morning, which by the afternoon cost absolutely nothing. Poverty and desperation is everywhere. Suicide is sometimes the only choice. The ones that actually carried on their backs the WWI are suffering the most. Post-war veterans without legs, arms, and with terrible wounds are begging on the streets. The government does nothing. Nobody cares. It is just the way it is. Some of them are disillusioned and blame the war. Others long for the old military discipline, for the greatness of the German state, for the prosperity. These people are exactly the ones who turn to the nationalist movement, hoping it will eventually restore stability and bring Germany back to the world powers.

There are also the men who prosper. Opportunistic soulless people, who speculate with stocks, money, and people's lives. The exploite the system and become quickly (but as we see unstably) rich. They use ambiguous ways, they visit the trendiest restaurants, they are surrounded by pretty but shallow women. They are on top of the poor German state. But like everything in post-war Germany, this power is fleeting. One day you are rich and alive and the other day you are broke and disillusioned. It was hard surviving the war but at times it feels difficult actually living after the war. Remarque faces us with some of the ugliest human characteristics; he shows that even if human beings are primordially good, unfair and difficult life can turn them into beasts. They are not to be blamed; they are to be understood. Sometimes, though, it is difficult to read and accept the unfairness, the senselessness, and the dispair of the situation.

Ludwig doesn't belong to this world. He was just born in the wrong time, wrong place, wrong surroundings. He is sensitive, naive, and poetic. Even though he works for a funeral house, most probably the least compassionate place, in his free time he attempts to keep his soul. He is a poet, a teacher, a musician. Women take a great part of his life but unfortunately, they always leave him at the end. Understandably. Ludwig cannot survive and win in a world of power and greed. He looks at things and asks questions. He doubts religion, God, money, power, love, sanity. He doesn't conform to established rules, he has his own moral, and he attempts to defend it. However, in a world where people don't feel but steal, don't think but flow, don't love but hate, don't care but corrupt, he is lost. Ludwig's women search for money and stability. He can only offer them romance and tenderness. Not enough for the corrupted minds of the 1920s.

I can probably go on for pages about the war and its devastation effects. But no, I want to talk about love now. Yes, there is and there can be love even in post-war Germany. It is just not the typical sane love you might expect. It is actually strange, unusual, even confusing at times. You hate the person and you love him. At times you don't understand him but that makes you love him even more. I will say that this is my second favorite love story after Florentino and Fermina in Love in the Times of Cholera. Exactly because both loves stories are NOT what you expect them to be and NOT what the world says they should be. The times Ludwig lives in are insane; what is then more normal than to fall in love with an insane girl. Isabel is a patient at the asylum, where Ludwig sometimes work. She is several different people at ones; she has suffered a lot and she has chosen the path of multiple personalities to protect herself from the world. Ironically, she is more sane than the others. Isabel, although being a schizophrenic looks at the world objectively, criticizes unfairness, asks questions, and refuses to oblige to imposed norms and questionable morals. Her beauty is in the way she doubts everything, from the color of the grass to the singing of the birds. Insanity is all around; the biggest irony is that sometimes one finds sanity in the most insane places. In fact, insanity was the only way to survive in Germany. You had to be crazy, you had to be different, you had to be unusual in order to bear the terror and the brutality. You had to lose your mind to find a purpose and a sense in everything that was happening. Insanity protected Ludwig's love; insanity made him connect to Isabel even more. Sanity then ruined everything. Sanity took away passion and connection; sanity destroyed love.

The Black Obelisk is a difficult novel. Difficult to read, difficult to understand, difficult to bear. I must say, though, with all my heart that it is probably one of the best books I have read. I wasn't only reading; I was thinking, doubting, asking, revolting, feeling, crying, and loving. I questioned my own beliefs, I looked at my own morals, I changed my perspective towards love and war and sanity. Erich Maria Remarque creates his own philosophical world and takes us slowly without condemning or criticizing openly. He just gives the facts, presents the conversations, describes the characters. At the end though, you are left overwhelmed with many more questions about the purpose of it all. Whether it is love, life, war, compassion, or sanity.

Starting to read Remarque was probably one of the best decisions I have had lately. I know it is the right time now. A few years back I would have been too young. A few years later I will most probably be too cynical to appreciate it. But now I am exactly the person to read it. Emotional, sensitive, slightly insane, and trying to adapt to a world, where these qualities will make you anything but happy.

Words of Wisdom Vol.1

For those that don't know, I have a pocket book, which I carry everywhere, but I don't show to anyone. No, I don't write there the names of the men I have slept with with some notes along (as in all of the cheesy movies we've seen). I'm a bit nerdy, so I write quotes. Obviously, quotes from novels I have read or quotes I have found inspirationalY. So far, I have accumulated quite a few of them and I decided it was time to share a bit of my so-called wisdom. Before closing the window with the idea that these are trivial quotes we all know and we all have read a million of times, I have to warn you, this is not the case. Indeed, some of them you might have heard, but I tend to like more unpopular ones, which meaning hasn't been lost because of endless repetition. In fact, I intend to make this a regular section of the blog, so here come Words of Wisdom Volume 1.

As a matter of fact, I tend to re-read them every time I feel the urge or need to do so. After careful investigation, I discovered I have a quote for almost every problem/issue/situation in life. I don't even have to think about what to say to my friends and relatives when they are having a hard time. I just open the pocket book and read them something. Unfortunately, most of them take it quite harsh, usually with the words "This is fiction. I am talking about real life problems here." I already expressed my opinion in a recent argument that literature as an art is NOT meaningless and pointless. I won't try to prove anything here. I will let you enjoy some of these quotes I have gathered and then think whether literature indeed can help you in some practical and tangible way.

"Time is the longest distance between two places."

"Prime numbers is what is left when you have taken all the patterns away. I think prime numbers are like life. They are very logical but you can never work out the rules even if you spend all of your time thinking about them."
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time - Mark Haddon

"Money is only a too. It will take you wherever you wish but it will not replace you as the driver."
Ayn Rand

"You must never give yourself a chance to fall apart because when you do, it becomes a tendency and it happens over and over again. You must practice staying strong instead."

"We need to make books cool again. If you go home with somebody and they don't have books, don't fuck them."
John Waters

"Our words are giants when they do us injury and dwarfs when they do us service."
The Woman in White - Willkie Collins.

"Women can resist a man's love, a man's fame, a man's personal appearance, and a man's money but they cannot resist a man's tongue, when he knows how to talk to them."
The Woman in White - Willkie Collins.

"In most of these universes, the conditions would not be right for the development of complicated organisms; only in the few universes that are like ours would intelligent beings develop and ask the question:'Why is the universe the way we see it?' The answer is then simple: if it had been different, we would not be there."
A Brief History of Time - Stephen Hawking

"If you loved someone, you loved him. And when you had nothing else to give, you still gave him love."
1984 - George Orwell

"All men fear death. It is a natural fear that consumes us all. We fear death because we feel we haven't loved well enough or loved at all, which ultimately are one and the same. However, when you make love with a truly great woman, one that deserves the utmost respect in this world and one that makes you feel truly powerful, that fear of death completely disappears. Because when you are sharing your body and heart with a great woman, the world fades away. You two are the only ones in the entire universe. You conquer what most lesser men have never conquered before you, you have conquered a great woman's heart, the most vulnerable thing she can offer to another. Death no longer lingers in the mind. Fear no longer clouds your heart. Only passion for living and loving becomes your sole reality. This is not easy task for it takes insurmountable courage. But remember this, for that moment when you are making love with a woman of true greatness, you will feel immortal."
Ernest Hemingway.

"No matter how busy you may think you are, you must find time fr reading or surrender yourself to self-chosen ignorance."
Confucius

“My philosophy, in essence, is the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute.”
Ain Rand

"Achievement of your happiness is the only moral purpose of your life, and that happiness, not pain or mindless self-indulgence, is the proof of your moral integrity, since it is the proof and the result of your loyalty to the achievement of your value."
Ayn Rand

"I swear, by my life and my love of it, that I will never live for the sake of another man, nor ask another man to live for mine."
Ayn Rand

"The only regret I will have in dying is if it is not for love."
Love in the Times of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Enough for now. Take whatever you need from this but don't get overexcited. To end with a quote, as Oscar Wilde said it: Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation."

Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter is a Huge Disappointment.

After being seriously impressed by Mario Vargas Llosa's The Bad Girl, I was more than intrigued to read more from the Noble prize winner. Quite a long time passed, during which I was filling in my gaps in classic literature but upon entering a bookstore and wondering between Llosa and a Bulgarian author, I decided to go for his most famous novel, Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter. This novel will not be soon forgotten for the mere reason that it is the novel I read for the longest time from War and Peace until now. Not because I didn't have time but simply because this is definitely NOT my thing. Once more, I have proven to be quite a diverse reader, who can hate one piece of literature and simply love another one by the same author. Gabriel Garcia Marquez was the first example. I simply couldn't stand his magical realism in 100 Years of Solitude and I chose to abandon it. But then, Love in the Times of Cholera is one of the greatest love stories. Mario Vargas Llosa (another South American author) joins the honorable list of authors, whom I both adore and hate.

I praised The Bad Girl a lot. The story of an obsessed man in love and a promiscuous woman, who ruins his life was brilliantly written and deeply psychological. Combined with the typical atmosphere of Peru, which now as I see it is present in both his novels, this piece of literature stands amongst my most favorite this year. You can imagine my surprise when I was totally repelled by Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter.

The latter is largely biographical. The main character, Marito, wants to be a writer and works in a radio in Lima, similarly to Llosa. He falls in love with his aunt Julia (not really related to him, relax!) and despite his family's opposition, marries her. Llosa also married his aunt. So far quite a trivial story, which doesn't get any better as you keep reading. We understand Marito loves the aunt but we don't see why or how. I simply didn't feel the passion, the connection, the intense pain that you cannot live without another human being. The love story was banal and boring so I was quite tempted to skip parts of it.

What is original about the novel, though, is that it is split between Marito's narrative about his unfortunate love affair, and Pedro Kamacho's stories. Kamacho is a brilliant Bolivian series writer, whose radio series exalt thousands of people. His relationship to Marito is explored quite superficial but we manage to grasp that Marito admires the writer. In Kamacho's story line, Llosa explores the drama of the artist and the genius, who slowly loses his mind. At the beginning the Bolivian produces quite popular and admirable series, but the tension and the fatigue play their role. He starts mixing people, places, characters, and story lines. His destiny of a great artist and a great talent is unfortunately to be admired when capable and to be abandoned when crazy.

Without the Kamacho story line the novel would have been a complete disaster. Indeed, the place of the artist is ingeniously explored but as for the aunt Julia story, I would say it is a complete failure. Trivial, shallow, and superficial, Marito and his aunt's love affair does nothing to provoke any feeling or impression in me. In conclusion, I am glad I finally finished this novel and I would need a lot of time before I turn again to Llosa. I have quite a bad taste in my mouth right now.

The Bad Girl and the Good Boy

The bad girl has many names. She is Lily, comrade Arlette, Mme Robert Arnoux, Mrs Richardson, Kuriko, and Otilia. The bad girl has many nationalities. She is Chilean, Peruvian, French, English, and Japanese. The bad girl lives in different places. You can find her in Peru, in France, in Cuba, in England, and in Japan. The bad girl is a gold-digging femme fatale, who was risen in poverty. She promised herself never to be poor and never to starve again. The bad girl became a ruthless insensitive woman, who used people and then abandoned them. Including the good boy.

The good boy has only one name. He is Ricardo. The good boy has one nationality. He is Peruvian, whose long life dream to live in Paris has lead him to lead a boring but stable life as a translator in the capital of love. He meets the bad girl as a teenager in Peru, where Lily pretends to be Chilean. His infatuation and obsession with the bad girl begins then and there and lasts more than 50 years. Ricardo meets her again years after that in Paris, as the comrade Arlette, a mock agitator for the socialist reforms in South America. His devotion is awaken once again. Ricardo takes care of the bad girl, loves her more than life, and is ready to do anything to provide her with everything she needs. The bad girl answers him with cruelty. She abuses him, mocks him for his lack of ambition, uses him as a love toy, and then abandons him for a richer and more prosperous man. Thus, she becomes the wife of a French diplomat and an English aristocrat and then the lover of a Japanese mafioso. Ricardo and the bad girl intertwine their destinies all around the world, London, Paris, Tokyo, Madrid, Ricardo chasing her, the bad girl hurting him.

This is the story of a different love story. If we can really call it a love story. This is The Bad Girl by Noble Prize winner Mario Vargas Llosa. The bad girl is an impossible combination of pragmatism, adventurism, and rebelliousness. Her difficult life has taught her that money and power are essential for happiness. Thus, she looks for wealthy men to provide her with everything she has been missing. Ricardo is romantic and sensitive. He never forgets his first teenage love. No matter how many times the bad girl exploited him, hurt him, or betrayed him, the good boy took her back every time. For nearly 50 years all over the world, his love and her egocentrism and egoism meet and part.

Is this a love story? I say yes. Ricardo loves the bad girl, that's for sure. He admires her ambition, her volatility, her beauty, even her harshness and insensitiveness. The bad girl also loves Ricardo to some extent. Yet, it takes her a whole life time to discover that not money but affection and respect bring happiness. She is abandoned by husband after husband looking for the stability money give and ignoring the simple but real life that Ricardo offers her. The Bad Girl by Llosa is the touching story of two souls, who are so different but so much made for each other. He needs her craziness and she needs his calmness. He needs someone to take care of and she needs someone to show her the right way. Destiny is cruel but also just for Ricardo and the bad girl.

The novel largely reminds us of Flaubert's Madame Bovary. The similarity is not accidental. Llosa admired Flaubert's talent and his depiction of the ruthless and egoistic woman and her loyal admirer. However, this time the student has surpassed the teacher. Flaubert is the master of realism mainly because he uses reality and transforms it into another, alternative existence, where passion overwhelms, immortal and undiminished by time. Llosa deservingly receives a Noble prize for his mastery of postmodernism. The Peruvian author takes a revolutionary story and turns it into a contemporary love story spanning through decades and continents.

The Latin American boom of incredible authors is a fact. Marquez, Cortazar, Fuentes, and Llosa experiment with the traditional literature, challenge the established conventions, and discuss the effect of the political turbulences in the Southern continent. Deservingly, two of them are already Noble prize winners, with Llosa being most probably the most influential and powerful of them

The Different Faces of Love in Marquez's World

Can there be different types of love? According to Gabriel Garcia Marquez in Love in the Time of Cholera, yes, there can be.

There is the romantic, unrequited, ideal love of Florentino Ariza for the beautiful but proud Fermina Daza. At the age of 21 she rejects Florentino realizing the naivite of her first childish romance and marries the successful doctor Juvenal Urbino. For 51 years, 9 months and 4 days Florentino never forgets his first and only love. The poor boy turns into a successful man, passes through more than 600 sexual affairs for half a century, but remains faithful to his life purpose - to be reunited with Fermina some day. This idealistic and obsessive sort of love gives a reason for his existence and a constant struggle for self development so that he is worthy of his angel.

There is the practical, calm, and balanced love of Fermina Daza and her husband doctor Juvenal Urbino. They marry not because of passionate and burning affection but because of practical needs. Fermina Daza has decided to marry by the age of 21 and the doctor is attracted by her pride, strength, and attractiveness. The family builds a stable life, learning slowly to love and appreciate each other for who they are, to overlook and live with each other's shortcomings and to adapt to the difficulties of being a husband and wife. Their love story is not heartbreaking, tragic, or passionate. It is not a disease that eats the heart and soul, but a cure for tranquility and understanding. Juvenal and Fermina pass through the inevitables reefs of betrayal, lies, and jealousy but manage to secure their friendship and support till Juvenal's death.

And there is the love of Florentino and Fermina. After her husband's death, Fermina starts remembering her young love. Florentino's feelings haven't changed for more than half a century. He still idealizes his beloved and begins once again to write her letters. This time, his letters are not romantic confessions in love but wise thoughts about life, adulthood, age, and growth. Both in their seventies, Fermina and Florentino have nothing really to expect from life. Except to live the love they never had the change to when they were young. Sensing death knocking on the door, the two take a journey down the river to rest in each other's arms, old bodies with young hearts. After 53 years, 7 months, and 11 days, with the nights, they are finally together. Under the flag of cholera forever and ever.

What about the cholera, you might ask? The author uses cholera both literally and metaphorically. The disease that kills millions of people around the world in the 19th century. The endless civil wars that dislocate Columbia and leave families broken. The cynicism of life, the loss of the tremulous idealism, the decadence of human values and virtues in a world where people no longer believe in pure and sublime love. And of course unrequited love. Florentino's lovesickness is a literal illness, an emotional and physical disease comparable to cholera.

I was deeply touched by Gabo's (as they affectionally call him in Latin America) Love in the Time of Cholera. The author's first novel after his noble prize for literature in 1983 is about the kind of love all of us want to experience. Somehow the overcynism of contemporary society has made us believe it is nonexistent. Love in the Time of Cholera takes second place in my most favorite love stories of all times. I will reread this book over and over again just to touch one more time the magic of love that conquers time and age.

PS: Maybe I will give 100 years of Solitude yet another change. Although, I know that its magical realism is still not a bite for me.

Nancy Mitford - it was about time for some constructive criticism

A long time has passed since I had the unfortunate displeasure of running into a book that I simply cannot finish. The last one, which gave me such trouble, was Gabriel Garcia Marquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude. Frankly, I just don't get why Bulgarians picked it up as one of their 12 most favorite books. I may be shallow, but this magical made-up world of his was too much to bear. So after 200 pages (which seemed like ages) One Hundred Years of Solitude joined the sad (thank God really small) part of my library, dedicated to novels I simply hated.

I waited for my exams to be over to dive blissfully into Ayn Rand's third novel We the Living. A friend of mine, however, gave me Nancy Mitford's short novels and I decided to check them out before Rand. Wrong, completely wrong. 

Nancy Mitford was born in the UK in 1904 in the family of a wealthy baron. She didn't receive any proper education, not counting being taught to ride and speak French. Having read her novel I am hardly surprised. She indeed doesn't know what she is talking about. 

In The Pursuit of Love Mitford attempts to portray the life in the English high class between the two World Wars. Trust me, it took me 100 pages to understand the time period as she didn't mention it at all. Mitford doesn't consider the two most disastrous events of the 20th century THAT important to the story as her characters just floated in no time and space trying to figure out what to do with their life. The author depicts a wealthy family, where the children are not educated, as education is considered superfluous (going back to her background we understand why). Big surprise: they only ride and from time to time speak French. Indeed, Mitford overwhelms us with riding, hunting, and French as obviously those are the only things she really knows anything about. The main character is a spoiled rich uneducated girl in the pursuit of love. During this disastrous pursuit she changes husband after husband, becomes the mistress of a wealthy French man and at the end dies. Just like that. I read 150 pages without anything important, interesting, or provoking really going on. Mitford's obsession with wealthy high class lords and barons simply results in naive, simple, and uneducated characters, from whom a passionate reader cannot learn anything. And frankly, I don't see the point of JUST reading to pass by time, especially novels that are just words, black on white, with no meaning, no theme, and no moral whatsoever. 

Obviously, I didn't learn my lesson and decided to give her second novel, Love in a Cold Climate (considered her bestseller) a chance to interest me. However, as I encountered many of the same characters in the first 15 pages, I gave it up. Really, I have better things to do than torture myself with Mitford's attempts to write. 

Her biography says she took up writing "to relieve the boredom of the intervals between the recreations established by the social conventions of her world". Well, she may have relieved her boredom, but she certainly increased mine.