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fbook icon 60Christmas At My Place

 

Christmas tiny tree

As as a child, I couldn't wait for Christmas to come; now I wish December had five weeks, instead of four. If there really was an extra week, I might find the time to cook some of those wonderful baked goods, jams and chutneys, featured in the Christmas issues of the 'Australian Women's Weekly' and 'Better Homes and Gardens'. 

This year I have a pretty good excuse for the dearth of handmade delicacies - I'm deep into the edit of A PLACE OF HER OWN with the dreaded deadline looming just before Christmas. So if I don't send out Christmas cards this year, I hope my friends will understand. 

But the one thing I always make time for is decorating the house. My family calls me 'Mrs Christmas' - I have a cupboard full of ornaments and Christmas bric-a-brac collected over the years, many of them handcrafted by talented friends. You can see some of their work in last year's pics. And here are some glimpses of Christmas at our place in 2013.

Christmas tree 2013

 Christmas stairs

Christmas flowers

Wishing you all a joyful Christmas and a happy, healthy and fulfilling 2014!

Deborah



 


fbook icon 60First Impressions


Have I ever bought a book on the basis of its cover? Absolutely. In fact, a gorgeous cover will always grab me. Erin Morgenstern’s THE NIGHT CIRCUS is just one such instance - I couldn’t resist its silhouetted Victorian figures, silver stars and embossed lettering. It turned out that the cover captured the spirit of the book brilliantly and I've never regretted that impulse buy.

Another example is Alan Bennett’s THE UNCOMMON READER. I fell for this little book the minute I saw its white and gold dust jacket emblazoned with a raised gold crown (yes, I do like tactile covers). Admittedly, my purchase was influenced by the author's name. But, most of all, I loved the title.

Which leads me to the real subject of this article – just how important are titles in ‘hooking’ a potential reader? Those of you who are regular visitors to my blog will know that I’ve discussed this in an earlier article, and I still feel the same way. A great title is paramount.

As a writer, I can’t settle into my manuscript until I have the perfect name for it.  During the first few weeks in the gestation of MR CHEN'S EMPORIUM, the book was known by another name, a perfectly acceptable one, but unspectacular nonetheless. When the right title came to me, I knew instantly that it was ‘the one’. And after the title was firmly in place, gracing the first page and the footer, I felt free to get on with the story.

In the case of THE JADE WIDOW, I had the name months before I started writing the book. Actually, I suspect that was one reason why the writing went so smoothly. As for my forthcoming novel, A PLACE OF HER OWN, I have a confession to make. Over the past three years there has been a series of working titles, none of which ever fully satisfied me. At one stage my husband asked, ‘What are you calling it this week?’ Finally I resorted to dubbing it ‘Number 3’. Oh dear.

So I went back to basics. What is my book about, I asked myself. The answer came easily. It’s about finding a safe place, a refuge, a bolthole. And suddenly I knew the word ‘place’ had to be in the title because it has so many levels of meaning.

First and foremost, there’s the physical sense of the word. A real location. For my female protagonist, Angie Wallace, it's a charming Victorian house with high gables, fancy bargeboards and dormer windows, surrounded by rolling lawns and a lavender garden. She has a very personal investment in this place, having renovated it herself.  And she has developed a special bond with one of its nineteenth-century inhabitants, a young woman by the name of Amy Duncan Chen, who suffered the sudden loss of her husband, just as Angie did more than a century later.

Then there are the psychological connotations of the word 'place', the sense of ‘being in a good place’ emotionally, or its converse, being 'all over the place'. Angie Wallace experiences both states of mind but I won't say any more for fear of giving away too much.

A PLACE OF HER OWN will be released by Random House Australia on May 1. By the way, you don't need to have read MR CHEN to pick up the story. Although this book features characters from the modern-day thread of MR CHEN'S EMPORIUM, it's most definitely a stand-alone novel. 

Deborah O’Brien

January 2014


 

fbook icon 60Valentine's Day Series - Part 1

My Five Favourite Books about

Unrequited Love

JNorris Scrapbook 19

1890s scrapbook image courtesy Jan N.


‘Unrequited love hurts like hell – whether you’re fifteen or fifty-something.’ 


That’s the tagline from my forthcoming novel, 'A Place of Her Own'. And it’s true, isn’t it? There’s no age limit on the emotional pain involved in loving someone who doesn’t love you in return.

Whether it’s a teenager experiencing her first love or a ‘woman of a certain age’ yearning for someone she can’t have, I’ve always thought there’s something noble about a love that’s unspoken and full of longing. Most of us have experienced it, even if it was only a fleeting adolescent crush on someone who didn't even know we existed.

In 'A Place of Her Own', a woman suffering from unrequited love comes to the following conclusion:

‘In a romantic sense, he might be spoken for, but that didn’t matter. She could love someone who didn’t love her in return. There was no law against it. In fact, people did it all the time. He would never have to know. She just needed to keep things in perspective, avoid wallowing in the unrequited nature of her feelings.’

Then there’s the dysfunctional scenario, the one where unrequited love morphs into an obsession. If a person happens to be psychologically unbalanced, an obsessive passion can lead to extreme behaviour. Ian McEwan writes chillingly about aspects of this phenomenon in his novel, ‘Enduring Love’.

But back to the concept of unrequited love as a romantic infatuation which is never acted on. The nineteenth century English poet, William Blake summed it up in these two famous lines:

‘Never seek to tell thy love,

Love that never told can be.’

So, without further ado, here are my five favourite books about unrequited love. By the way, there are spoiler alerts in the text for those of you who haven't read 'The Great Gatsby', 'Young Werther' and 'Jane Eyre'.

 1. NOTRE DAME DE PARIS, Victor Hugo

When I was a teenager, I used to stay back after school every Wednesday afternoon to attend film club. That’s how I came to see the 1930s version of ‘The Hunchback of Notre Dame’. I loved Charles Laughton’s gargoyle-like Quasimodo, desperately in love with Maureen O’Hara’s beautiful Esmeralda. Anxious to linger over the story, I bought the book itself, a ponderous tome with multiple sub-plots and a great deal of extraneous historical material that I skimmed relentlessly in my search for the passages about Quasimodo’s heroic infatuation with the Gypsy girl and its counterpoint, the dastardly Claude Frollo’s obsession with her.

 2. LE GRAND MEAULNES, Alain-Fournier

I would never have known about this wonderfully evocative novel, if it hadn’t been a set text in my first year French course at uni. That’s usually enough to put you off a book, particularly when there’s an essay involved, but I quickly fell in love with Alain-Fournier’s dreamlike story about a young man called Meaulnes, trying to recapture a lost past in which he met a girl who stole his heart.

In that respect, there are similarities to ‘The Great Gatsby’ (discussed below). However the two novels differ markedly in mood and tone. Fitzgerald’s story, set in the Jazz Age, is often dark and cynical, while ‘Le Grand Meaulnes’ reflects the comparatively innocence of the pre-World War I period in which it was written. For me, there’s an added poignancy in that its young author was killed in action on the Western Front not long after the book was published. It was his first and only novel. If he had lived, he might well have been one of the great novelists of the twentieth century.

 3. THE GREAT GATSBY, F. Scott Fitzgerald

I have a confession to make – I own two copies of ‘The Great Gatsby’ – one in the city, the other in our little country cottage. I love this book so much that I reread it at least once a year. In essence, it's a tale of a man who builds a whole life around the idealised love story he has concocted in his head. (Spoiler AlertFor a while, the fantasy seems to become a reality, but this isn’t the world of ‘The Notebook’, and things don’t end well. Poor Gatsby. He never realised he was trying to recapture an epic romance that didn’t exist in the first place.

 4. THE SORROWS OF YOUNG WERTHER, Goethe

‘Die Leiden des jungen Werthers’ is yet another set text from my first year at university. It’s a classic tale of unrequited and overwrought love, but unlike ‘Le Grand Meaulnes’, (Spoiler alert) there’s a particularly nasty ending for the long-suffering Werther. Goethe later disowned the book, which contained embarrassing autobiographical elements inspired by his own youthful infatuation with a young woman. The novel became influential among young men of the time –a kind of 1770s’ equivalent of ‘Catcher in the Rye'. 

 5. JANE EYRE, Charlotte Brontë

(Spoiler alert)

Wait a minute, I can hear you say, didn’t Jane Eyre marry Mr Rochester in 9780307455192the end? 

Well, yes, she did, but only after his house burned down and he was blinded in the fire. For a large part of the novel, during which Jane served as governess to Mr Rochester’s ward, she was in love with her boss while he manipulated her emotionally by carrying on with the aristocratic and wealthy Blanche Ingram. It’s an odd book when you analyse it, but if you just go with the flow, it can be an engrossing Gothic read.

See also: My Four Favourite Stories about Platonic Love and  My Top Ten Romantic Comedies.

Deborah O’Brien

January 26, 2014

 Valentine's Day Series - Part 2

fbook icon 60My Four Favourite Stories about Platonic Love

                                                     JNorris Scrapbook 21                                               

       1890s scrapbook image courtesy of Jan N.

There’s always a strong element of suspense in a platonic love story. I call it the ‘will they or won’t they?’ factor. As a reader or viewer, you wait with bated breath, secretly hoping the relationship will be consummated, yet knowing things won’t be quite the same if they really do get together.

Take Harry and Ruth in the BBC’s long-running series ‘Spooks’. The ongoing unfulfilled relationship between the MI5 chief and the analyst forms the perfect counterpoint to the dirty world of international intrigue. It’s a poignant romance characterised by polite English restraint. Neither says what they really feel. In fact, you might even call it Chekhovian in its sub-text.

And speaking of the BBC, who can forget the chemistry between Nikki and Harry in ‘Silent Witness’? Their flirtatious banter brightened many seasons of that series and is sorely missed now that the lovely Tom Ward has gone elsewhere. American television gave us eight years of agonisingly unresolved sexual tension between Mulder and Scully in ‘The X Files’, while that brilliant series ‘The West Wing’ produced one of the most endearing platonic* partnerships in television – Josh and Donna.

So, what accounts for my own fascination with this genre? Well, I blame it on ‘Brief Encounter’. I must have been in my early teens when I saw the film on television. Afterwards I produced an endless stream of bittersweet love stories for the entertainment of my family and school friends. Even now I find the same themes appearing in my ‘mature’ work so it’s pretty obvious that the platonic trope is lodged deep within my psyche.

‘Mr Chen’s Emporium’, for example, introduced a platonic relationship which continues in ‘A Place of Her Own’. Here’s how the female protagonist of both novels describes her situation:

'Even though they would never be lovers, they could be best friends. After all, friendship was worthy and satisfying. Look at Bette Davis in 'Now, Voyager'. She might not have had the moon, but she had the stars instead. And although stars might not always illuminate your life with high romance, they would sparkle nonetheless. Particularly on a dark Millbrooke night.’


So here are my four favourite stories about platonic love:

 1. Brief Encounter  - Laura and Alec

Written by Noel Coward and directed by David Lean, this film is a little masterpiece. In spite of having to wear a collection of ugly hats and headscarves, Celia Johnson gives a glowing performance that illuminates the film. Meanwhile, a young Trevor Howard is perfect as the doctor who removes a cinder from her eye and falls in love with her. Both are married, of course, and there’s the rub. Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No 2 forms the perfect backdrop, its relentless rhythms reinforcing their desperate moral dilemma in the face of overwhelming emotions.

But what I particularly like about David Lean’s ‘Brief Encounter’ is that the two protagonists are ordinary everyday people, not glamorous leads in the manner of Nikki and Harry, or Mulder and Scully. That’s one of reasons why the 1970s’ remake with Sophia Loren and Richard Burton didn’t work - the casting was ridiculous.


 2. The Remains of the Day - Mr Stevens & Miss Kenton

I can’t recall which one I discovered first – the book (by Kazuo Ishiguro) or the film (Merchant/Ivory). But it doesn’t really matter because they’re equally good. Like ‘Brief Encounter’, this is a story about ordinary people – a butler and a housekeeper, and there’s a very British tension that hums just below the surface. It’s almost unbearable to watch/read the scene where Miss Kenton tries to prise Mr Stevens’ book from him, only to discover that it is merely a ‘silly romance’. As an onlooker, your heart aches for the two of them and their lost opportunities.

 

3. Wuthering Heights - Cathy and Heathcliff

There just had to be a novel by one of the Brontë sisters in this list – they could write unfulfilled passion better than anyone (which reminds me that I should have included Charlotte’s ‘Villette’ in my blog about unrequited love). In ‘Wuthering Heights’ Emily Brontë created a highly original tale seething with emotions – love, jealousy, anger, vengeance. The plot is as vast and wild as the moors where the story is set. Cathy and Heathcliff never do consummate their love but it rumbles through the book like a brewing storm about to wreak havoc on the characters.


 4. Now, Voyager - Charlotte and Jerry

This is the only American story in my list. I must confess that I haven't read the original novel by Olive Higgins Prouty** but I’ve seen the 1942 film several times. It’s worth viewing, if only for the final scene which is heavy with sub-text (you can see a clip on YouTube). Although many aspects of the movie are dated, and the chain-smoking Bette Davis is wont to overact (something Celia Johnson would never do), there’s a certain nobility in the choices made by Charlotte (Davis) and Jerry (Paul Henreid). I’ve referenced this film several times in ‘A Place of Her Own’. By the way, the title comes from Walt Whitman’s poem.


* If I recall correctly, this was consummated in the final season.

** For all you movie buffs out there, Olive Higgins Prouty also wrote the bestselling  ‘Stella Dallas’ which became a hit film with Barbara Stanwyck in the leading role.

See also: My Five Favourite Books about Unrequited Love and My Top Ten Romantic Comedies.


Deborah O’Brien

6 February, 2014