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| Illustration by Thackery for Vanity Fair* |
So, I'm sure you are all aware of the sad news that publishers will no longer be printing mass-market paperbacks. I donʼt remember the last time I purchased a mass-market paperback, but they certainly played an enormous role in my early years as a reader. I have not been able to part with my high school copies of John Jakes (The Bastard!), Belva Plain (Evergreen!), Colleen McCullogh (The Thornbirds!), Judith Krantz (Princess Daisy!), Victoria Holt (aka Jean Plaidy), James Michner, etc. etc., as well as all of my Penguin and Bantam Classics from college and beyond. And I remember the convenience of carrying my Wordsworth Classics copy of Vanity Fair on my morning commute in the 90s. (Itʼs no Clarissa, but it IS a brick!)
Now, Iʼve often prayed for a minor natural disaster to force myself to throw away all of these books, especially since I am no longer able to read the tiny print, but maybe, for nostalgias' sake, I'm lucky that never happened?!
I look forward to seeing you all on Wednesday! x Jacquie
Francesʼ Minutes Christine had a good fire going in her living room – or should I write, her parlor, considering her house was built in the 19th century. We did wonder if the house was originally built with central heating. Nine members attended. Christine’s lunch included a King Cake, a New Orleans Mardi Gras specialty.
Vice President Laura called the meeting to order at 1 PM. The treasury is unchanged at $113.12. Laura reminded us of two changes: the Annual Meeting will be March 4, at her house, with lunch; the April 8 meeting will be a brown bag lunch at Joanna’s.
Our recommendations: Frances suggested There Were No Windows by Norah Hoult, published in 1944. A novel about aging, dementia, social class, loss of friends, lovers, status; all happening during the London Blitz. Connie recommended Someone at a Distance, by Dorothy Whipple. Both Hoult and Whipple’s novels were out of print until Persephone Books reissued them. In honor of her recent stay in Mexico, Christine read Chistina Rivera Garza’s Lilianna’s Invincible Summer, The Autobiography of Cotton and The Iliac Crest as well as Andrés Neuman’s Once Upon Argentina. Should our next topic be Latin American authors, Christine will have a head start.
Now, to Connie’s presentation on William Thackeray’s Vanity Fair.
Thackeray was born in 1811 in Calcutta. At 6, he was sent back to England, to a boarding school. He spent a year at Cambridge, read law, went to Paris to study art. Financial reversals wiped out his inheritance. He returned to London. To support himself, he became a journalist. He wrote 9 novels, the best-known being Vanity Fair, Barry Lyndon and The Virginians. He published short fiction, travelogues, sketchbooks, writing under his own name as well as pseudonyms. He was a friendly rival of Charles Dickens. Perhaps Charlotte Brontë modelled Mr. Rochester on him—Thackeray had a mentally ill wife. Brontë wrote about him that he “…is a Titan…I regard him as the first of modern masters.” We know little more of her feelings for him, or his for her, except she admired him. Thackeray remained a powerful presence in London literary circles until his death in 1864.
Vanity Fair was a brilliant innovation. Thackeray creates an illusion of living with the characters as the plot—their lives—unfold. His characters fly off the page, alternately charming, annoying, mean-spirited, generous, foolish, compassionate. Thackeray is sometimes the omniscient narrator, sometimes speaking through his characters.
Becky Sharp rarely moves off center stage. She has two feckless parents; they have given her some advantages but no money. Thanks to her French mother, she speaks excellent French. She is educated at a school for well-born girls where her father once taught art. Since no one pays her tuition, she must work at the school. We meet Becky as she leaves Miss Pinkerton’s academy for young ladies in a large coach drawn “by two fat horses.” The Smedley family has sent the coach to take their daughter Amelia and her friend, Becky, home. This friendship, Becky hopes, will be her path to marrying a wealthy man.
The characters make their entrances; the plot unfolds. Jos Smedley, Amelia’s brother, has made a fortune in India. Becky schemes to marry him. Amelia is to engaged to marry George Osborne, from a family as well-off as hers. Nothing will go as planned. Jos, after an embarrassing incident at a party, returns to India. The Smedleys have reached their limit having Becky as a guest, she leaves to work as a governess. Becky’s employer, Sir Pitt Crawley, a widower, has two sons, young Pitt and Rawdon, and a rich elderly aunt. Becky sees a raft of new possibilities. The Smedleys lose all their money; George Osborne marries the impoverished Amelia despite his family’s opposition. The family cuts off support for George and Amelia. Becky finds husband material in Rawdon Crawley, but he has received no money from his family, they must scramble for their living. Children are born in both Osborne and Crawley marriages; the Battle of Waterloo is fought; financial reversals occur. Virtue is rewarded, vice, well, is not precisely punished. Amelia will find a loving marriage, Becky will be financially secure, but with a reputation destroyed by her machinations.
Respectfully submitted,
Frances Greenberg, Recording Secretary
* Illustration by William Makepeace Thackeray entitled: Mr. Joseph entangled. Image scanned by Gerald Ajam and captions by Tiaw Kay Siang and Sabrina Lim. Courtesy Victorian Web.
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