Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde – Robert Louis Stevenson

Book #820

Reviewer: Ms Oh Waily


DJMHI think it is almost impossible to have reached adulthood without having seen one version or other of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and I am no exception.  That means that I took in quite a few unfounded assumptions about the novella.

It was first published way back in 1886 and has become firmly embedded in our culture where we sometimes find people described as “Jekyll and Hyde” in character.  So what is this slight, 75 pages in my edition, novella all about?

Gabriel Utterson is a London lawyer and friend of Dr Henry Jekyll.  It is through him we learn the terrible tale of the doctor and his experimentation.  He is taking his regular weekly walk with his cousin, Richard Enfield, when they pass by a door that evokes a disturbing story from his companion.

Two doors from one corner on the left hand going east, the line was broken by the entry of a court; and just at that point a certain sinister block of building thrust forward its gable on the street.  It was two stories high; showed no window, nothing but a door on the lower story and a blind forehead of discoloured wall on the upper; and bore in every feature the marks of prolonged and sordid negligence.

And there begins the sinister overtones that continue throughout.

The story that Enfield relates is about one Edward Hyde and his callous treatment of a child in the street.  It arouses Utterson’s interest as he has in his possession the very unusual and recently amended will of his friend, Dr Jekyll, in which Edward Hyde is now a beneficiary.  Out of concern that Jekyll is being blackmailed, Utterson seeks out Hyde, and despite the sinister overtones Stevenson manages to put in a small dose of humour.  I wonder if he smirked to himself as he wrote this line.

“If he be Mr. Hyde,” he had thought, “I shall be Mr. Seek.”

Upon confronting Edward Hyde, Utterson like all who come in to contact with him find him to be repellent and in some way deformed.  Utterson describes him thus.

Mr. Hyde was pale and dwarfish.  He gave an impression of deformity without any nameable malformation, he had a displeasing smile, he had borne himself to the lawyer with a sort of murderous mixture of timidity and boldness, and he spoke with a husky, whispering and somewhat broken voice;  all these were points against him, but not all of these together could explain the hitherto unknown disgust, loathing, and fear with which Mr. Utterson regarded him.

We follow Utterson as he takes us through the varying behaviour of his friend Jekyll, and that of Hyde.  Eventually Hyde’s behaviour becomes so outrageous that the inevitable happens and a man is murdered.  It is only the last twenty-six pages that we finally get to find out about Dr. Jekyll’s experimentation and experiences as well as his musing on what his transformation is about.

It is very easy to say that this novella is about humanity’s duality – good vs evil, civilised vs primitive – and no doubt there is a lot to read in to it should you wish to.  Personally I found that it spoke more to our own conscience and how we come to control those aspects of our character which are ‘base’, wild or, putting it mildly, antisocial.
For modern readers it is also the foundation of our ‘superhero’ dual lives, and more than one ‘superhero’ character.

It is not the easiest of the Stevenson works that I have read.  The language feels much more Victorian than Treasure Island, which I wrote about briefly on my own blog a few years ago, and required me to work a little harder while reading, but at a mere 70-odd pages it is a very quick and interesting iconic story to read.  If you’re looking for a quick and easy ‘classic’ for a few hours of your time, then this one would be a good choice.

Happy reading!

April Update

7 books reviewed
138 books in total
863 books to go

April saw the review of Book #1 on the list: Never Let Me Go. This means we now have reviewed the very first book on the list, and the very last (Aesop’s Fables)…as well as a few in between.

Reviews for An Artist of the Floating World, Smiley’s People, The Little Prince, Absalom, Absalom, The 39 Steps and The Tree of Man mean we have reviewed 92 books from the 1900s. Given that this is the section with the largest number of entries, we do have a way to go, but this seems to be our most popular century to review!

Never Let Me Go is the only book from the 2000s that we reviewed in April (although it is the second Kazuo Ishiguro novel reviewed this month, along with An Artist of the Floating World), bringing the number of books reviewed from the 2000s to 18.

We have reviewed 20 books from the 1800s, three from the 1700s, and five from pre-1700s.

I wonder – is it the age of these entries that put us off, or their accessibility (both physically and literary)? Or is it more that we are simply attracted to the more recent works? Something to ponder, as eventually, we won’t be able to hide from the 1800s and earlier any longer!

Heart of Darkness – Joseph Conrad

Book #780

REVIEWER: Tall, Short & Tiny

Heart of DarknessI’d like to start this review by being totally honest…I didn’t like Heart of Darkness one little bit. I didn’t hate it, but I certainly groaned inwardly each time I picked it up, and very nearly didn’t finish it. However, having glowingly reviewed a number of books on the list, it felt only proper to be able to balance all those fantastic reads with one that, in my humble opinion, was not an enjoyable read (plus it’s short, and I was sure I could get through it!).

Nothing about this novella grabbed me. I didn’t enjoy the way the story was narrated, or the language that was used to do so. I found myself scoffing quietly, wondering if the person orating the story would really have used words such as “declivity” and “recrudescence”?

I did like a couple of Conrad’s descriptive sentences, and on the whole, I quite liked the majority of his descriptive passages, but that wasn’t enough.

“…on some quiet night the tremor of far-off drums, sinking, swelling, a tremor vast, faint; a sound weird, appealing, suggestive, and wild.”

“…this papier-mâché Mephistopheles…”

The subject matter is dark and gruesome, and I’m sure it would have been shocking at the time of publication, but I found it rather offensive and brutal. The story touches on cannibalism, colonialism and deception, none of which make for cheerful reading. There’s also the very Victorian ideals of men as heroes and women as love interests and belongings.

The language used to describe the “savages” made me uncomfortable, even though I tried very hard to put myself in the late-1800s frame of mind; it was interesting also to think that this novella remains controversial due to the subject of savagery, but perhaps for different (contradictory?) reasons.

“…these creatures rose to…hands and knees, and went off on all fours…”

“Why in the name of all the gnawing devils of hunger they didn’t go for us – they were thirty to five – and have a good tuck in for once, amazes me now when I think of it.”

“I looked at them with a swift quickening of interest – not because it occurred to me I might be eaten by them before very long…I perceived how unwholesome the pilgrims looked, and I hoped, yes, I positively hoped, that my aspect was not so…unappetising: a fantastic touch of vanity…”

The basic premise behind Heart of Darkness is that the human soul and mind has the capacity for extreme darkness, that every human being has two sides to their heart, and that in the right (or wrong, whichever way you’d like to look at it) situation, people act in unusual ways. However, I think that Conrad was trying to say that there is also inherent goodness in everyone too. Whether he extended that to his “savages” or not remains to be seen!

For me, this was a disappointing read and a bit of a drag, so unfortunately, I’m giving it just 2/5 stars.

Northanger Abbey – Jane Austen

Book #932

Reviewer: Ange P

NAI really enjoyed this, because I like light fluff.  Its much lighter than any other Austen novels. I also think that I enjoyed it so much because there is so much mockery of The Mysteries of Udolpho, which I reviewed earlier.

I also think that Austen wrote Northanger Abbey to be ‘fun’ and it is fun, but its lack of deep themes and complex characters means that there is little to review. The fun is provided by mockery of romantic novels of the time and Austen did give my romantic streak a little shock right at the end, by letting her pragmatic spirit shine through with a truth that I couldn’t deny, but that I think every true romantic tries to ignore:

I must confess that his affection originated in nothing better than gratitude, or, in other words, that a persuasion of her partiality for him had been the only cause of giving her a serious thought. It is a new circumstance in romance, I acknowledge, and dreadfully derogatory of an heroine’s dignity…

The plot is pretty basic.  Catherine  goes to Bath with some family friends.  She doesn’t know anyone but soon makes some new acquaintances.  Soon her brother arrives and forms an attachment with one of Catherine’s new friends, causing Catherine to learn some much needed life lessons.  Catherine herself finds Mr Tilney of particular interest.  Catherine is invited by General Tilney to stay at the family estate, where she hopes to further her acquaintance with Mr Tilney.  However, she is quickly distracted by the mystery created by General Tilney’s demeanour and ‘odd’ behaviour.  This leads her into a bit of a scrape.  Soon after, General Tilney ejects her from the house.  Will she ever be reunited with Mr Tilney?

One of the most amusing aspects of Northanger Abbey was my realisation that teenagers being stupid and annoying and chattering away aimlessly is not a recent phenomenon.  They’ve been doing it forever.  And Austen really is one of the most talented authors I’ve ever read.  She provides a beautiful parody of teenagers that, 200 years later, I can still relate to.  How cool is that?

They met by appointment; and as Isabella had arrived nearly five minutes before her friend, her first address naturally was, ” My dearest creature, what can have made you so late? I have been waiting for you at least this age!”

“Have you, indeed! I am very sorry for it; but really I thought I was in very good time. It is but just one. I hope you have not been here long?”

“Oh! These ten ages at least. I am sure I have been here this half hour. But now, let us go and sit down at the other end of the room, and enjoy ourselves. I have an hundred things to say to you. In the first place, I was so afraid it would rain this morning, just as I wanted to set off; it looked very showery, and that would have thrown me into agonies! Do you know, I saw the prettiest hat you can imagine, in a shop window in Milsom Street just now—very like yours, only with coquelicot ribbons instead of green; I quite longed for it. But, my dearest Catherine, what have you been doing with yourself all this morning?”

I suspect that many readers would find Catherine annoying in her naivety.  But I found that Austen balanced her character beautifully by providing her with the ability to learn from her mistakes. At various times I cringed from her stupidity but at least Austen doesn’t let the situations drag on and on.

Austen’s comment on themes is:

I leave it to be settled, by whomsoever it may concern, whether the tendency of this work be altogether to recommend parental tyranny, or reward filial disobedience.

War and Peace – Leo Tolstoy

Book #857

Reviewer: Kara


W&P

War and Peace is the epic story of several Russian aristocratic families during Napoleon’s invasion. The book covers the period from about 1805 to 1812, with a bit in the epilogue jumping ahead to around 1819.

Tolstoy himself writes that his book is unlike anything that has been written before when it comes to its form. Many have described it as part novel, part history book, part philosophical treatise, and this is pretty accurate. Many characters and events are fictional creations, and this part of the book is chock full of family drama and meandering love stories that end in both happiness and heartbreak. Other characters and events are historically accurate (at least, according to Tolstoy’s research, which some historians disagree with). However, real historical figures (Napoleon, Alexander I of Russia, Kutozov) and their real, historical actions are part of the story, and Tolstoy conducted interviews and perused diaries and letters to inform his writing. This part of the book is stuffed with battle scenes, the minutiae of war, and ongoing commentary on how war really works. Towards the end of the book, Tolstoy more and more often drifts into asides describing his philosophical take on history and how we understand it. This culminates in the second epilogue with a 40-page treatise on free will vs. fate.

Overall, I was astounded by how very accessible and readable this book is. Is it long? Yes. A time commitment? Absolutely – my edition has over 1300 pages. But at least 90% of what’s inside is easy to follow and interesting to read.

Though there are tons of major characters, it wasn’t long at all before they distinguished themselves and I had no trouble remembering each one. They are lively and full of depth, and the major players change in ways over the course of the book that ring true. Without giving away any details: One character ultimately channels her obsessive emotional energy into family. Another moves past the distractions that have filled his life. A third finally stands up for herself. One story, however, was unfortunately brushed aside – I can’t help but feel that any healing or resolution for her is omitted because she is not really part of the aristocracy.

War and Peace has many themes, and while it is certainly rife full of tragedy, I can’t help but feel that the fictional portion of the book is ultimately about finding true happiness in life. Several key characters experience a transformation that helps them see how wonderful life is.

One character learns: “Compassion, love for brothers, for those who love us and for those who hate us, love of our enemies; yes, that love which God preached on earth … — that is what made me sorry to part with life, that is what remained for me had I lived.'”

For another: “She did not know and would not have believed it, but beneath the layer of slime that covered her soul and seemed to her impenetrable, delicate young shoots of grass were already sprouting, which, taking root, would so cover with their living verdure the grief that weighed her down that it would soon no longer be seen or noticed. The wound had begun to heal from within.”

For a third: “Now, however, he had learnt to see the great, eternal, and infinite in everything, and therefore — to see it and enjoy its contemplation — he naturally threw away the telescope through which he had till now gazed over men’s heads, and gladly regarded the ever-changing, eternally great, unfathomable and infinite life around him. And the closer he looked the more tranquil and happy he became.”

There are also lovely descriptions that are full of joyfulness. For example:

“The stars, as if knowing that no one was looking at them, began to disport themselves in the dark sky: now flaring up, now vanishing, now trembling, they were busy whispering something gladsome and mysterious to one another.”

My favorite moment came at the very end of the fictional part of the story. Two characters are married and very much in love. Tolstoy describes the way that they sort of speak their own language, and understand each other in a way that no one else can. I love this because it reminds me of myself and my husband, and the fact that love is one of life’s greatest joys.

I highly recommend War and Peace to any lover of classic literature. It’s not overrated, and it’s worth all the many hours it takes to experience it.