Recent reading
Jul. 13th, 2025 04:54 pmRight, let's get this reading post done before the excitement of ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
raremaleslashex assignments takes over :D
Apollo's Angels: A History of Ballet by Jennifer Homans (2010). I read this as background/research for potential Étoile fic writing, and it has been very informative. It covers the history of ballet from its emergence in the court dances of seventeenth-century France, through its development in various places through time, trends and arguments, the influence of other dance styles, its success and declines, etc. etc. Lots of interesting and useful little titbits, both generally and fannishly (I especially like the influential eighteenth-century French ballerina Marie Sallé, who—in a period when female dancers were more or less expected also to be courtesans and mistresses—developed a reputation for universally rejecting male attentions, and on her retirement 'lived quietly with an Englishwoman, Rebecca Wick, to whom she left her modest worldly belongings'; on the fannish side of things, I think I see why Maya Plisetskaya is Cheyenne's fave); I also enjoyed the discussion of how ballet has developed and been reinterpreted in widely diverse cultural and political contexts (the court of Louis XIV; post-Revolutionary Paris; the Romantic nineteenth century; the twentieth-century US and USSR). Homans, a former ballet dancer turned historian, is ideally placed to write a book like this; she writes very much from a perspective informed by direct practical experience of dance, and doesn't hesitate to express her artistic and professional opinions, especially in the final chapters on the flourishing of ballet in twentieth-century America. At the end she argues that ballet, having fallen from those heights, has entered a decline which is probably terminal, perhaps due to its incompatibility with modern culture. I don't know what to make of that; at least I'm sure the characters and presumably the creators of Étoile would not agree! I have seen very little actual ballet in my life—I must go and remedy that soon—and I'm sure someone more familiar with it would have got more out of this book than I did, but still a very worthwhile read.
Re-read Piranesi by Susanna Clarke (2020), gradually over the last eight weeks with the JSMN fandom read-along Discord that![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pretty_plant kindly invited me to. I love this book as much as ever and, as ever, what I love most about it is how kind and gentle it is in the face of incomprehensibly horrible things happening, and the understanding that both the narrator and Sarah Raphael ultimately reach of their experiences and the world they live in. I was less caught by the academic backstory this time; perhaps I wasn't in the right mood. I do think this book benefits from being read quickly all in one go and getting properly mentally absorbed in it; reading only one part a week with other obsessions going on at the same time made less of it.
Dr Wortle's School by Anthony Trollope (1881). Having finished the Barsetshire series last year, I wanted to keep up my tradition of reading a Trollope each summer but was dithering over where to go next; I didn't want to launch into the Palliser books, his other famous series, because from the sound of it they have less of the elements I enjoyed most about Barsetshire (church politics and rural society) and more of the elements I was less interested in (London and the nobility). In the end I picked a title from his bibliography on Wikipedia on the basis of, that sounds interesting, I'd like to see what he does with a school setting. Well, it is about a school setting in a sense, though it's not what you'd call a school story; Dr Wortle is a very Barsetshire-ish country clergyman who also runs a small preparatory school, so I managed to pick well for myself there. But if this book is half Barsetshire, the other half turns out to be a Wilkie Collins novel: the main plot turns on a reveal entertainingly similar to the inciting reveal in No Name (but made in hilariously non-sensation novel fashion: early on in the book Trollope spends several paragraphs telling the reader 'now, authors usually draw this sort of thing out for the drama and suspense, but I'm not going to do that, I'm just going to tell you the big twist now; perhaps some readers will find this boring and fun-ruining, in which case I suggest they put the book down'). It is an interesting example of how different authors with different priorities tackle a similar scenario: besides Trollope not being a sensation novelist, this story kind of returns to the themes of The Warden in being very much about the social consequences of scandal and the practical importance they have, whereas No Name is all about the legal consequences and the social effects that follow as a result. I liked it! I especially liked the character of Dr Wortle, who is principled and determined on following his conscience in the face of social pressure and serious threatened consequences, but who is also dictatorial, prone to poor judgement and not always actuated by purely charitable motives; I think Trollope is too sympathetic to his failings, but I nevertheless liked how he portrays his protagonist's complexity. The book is let down by a particularly annoying Victorian love subplot which increasingly eclipses the main story towards the end, but aside from that it was worth reading.
raremaleslashex assignments takes over :DApollo's Angels: A History of Ballet by Jennifer Homans (2010). I read this as background/research for potential Étoile fic writing, and it has been very informative. It covers the history of ballet from its emergence in the court dances of seventeenth-century France, through its development in various places through time, trends and arguments, the influence of other dance styles, its success and declines, etc. etc. Lots of interesting and useful little titbits, both generally and fannishly (I especially like the influential eighteenth-century French ballerina Marie Sallé, who—in a period when female dancers were more or less expected also to be courtesans and mistresses—developed a reputation for universally rejecting male attentions, and on her retirement 'lived quietly with an Englishwoman, Rebecca Wick, to whom she left her modest worldly belongings'; on the fannish side of things, I think I see why Maya Plisetskaya is Cheyenne's fave); I also enjoyed the discussion of how ballet has developed and been reinterpreted in widely diverse cultural and political contexts (the court of Louis XIV; post-Revolutionary Paris; the Romantic nineteenth century; the twentieth-century US and USSR). Homans, a former ballet dancer turned historian, is ideally placed to write a book like this; she writes very much from a perspective informed by direct practical experience of dance, and doesn't hesitate to express her artistic and professional opinions, especially in the final chapters on the flourishing of ballet in twentieth-century America. At the end she argues that ballet, having fallen from those heights, has entered a decline which is probably terminal, perhaps due to its incompatibility with modern culture. I don't know what to make of that; at least I'm sure the characters and presumably the creators of Étoile would not agree! I have seen very little actual ballet in my life—I must go and remedy that soon—and I'm sure someone more familiar with it would have got more out of this book than I did, but still a very worthwhile read.
Re-read Piranesi by Susanna Clarke (2020), gradually over the last eight weeks with the JSMN fandom read-along Discord that
pretty_plant kindly invited me to. I love this book as much as ever and, as ever, what I love most about it is how kind and gentle it is in the face of incomprehensibly horrible things happening, and the understanding that both the narrator and Sarah Raphael ultimately reach of their experiences and the world they live in. I was less caught by the academic backstory this time; perhaps I wasn't in the right mood. I do think this book benefits from being read quickly all in one go and getting properly mentally absorbed in it; reading only one part a week with other obsessions going on at the same time made less of it.Dr Wortle's School by Anthony Trollope (1881). Having finished the Barsetshire series last year, I wanted to keep up my tradition of reading a Trollope each summer but was dithering over where to go next; I didn't want to launch into the Palliser books, his other famous series, because from the sound of it they have less of the elements I enjoyed most about Barsetshire (church politics and rural society) and more of the elements I was less interested in (London and the nobility). In the end I picked a title from his bibliography on Wikipedia on the basis of, that sounds interesting, I'd like to see what he does with a school setting. Well, it is about a school setting in a sense, though it's not what you'd call a school story; Dr Wortle is a very Barsetshire-ish country clergyman who also runs a small preparatory school, so I managed to pick well for myself there. But if this book is half Barsetshire, the other half turns out to be a Wilkie Collins novel: the main plot turns on a reveal entertainingly similar to the inciting reveal in No Name (but made in hilariously non-sensation novel fashion: early on in the book Trollope spends several paragraphs telling the reader 'now, authors usually draw this sort of thing out for the drama and suspense, but I'm not going to do that, I'm just going to tell you the big twist now; perhaps some readers will find this boring and fun-ruining, in which case I suggest they put the book down'). It is an interesting example of how different authors with different priorities tackle a similar scenario: besides Trollope not being a sensation novelist, this story kind of returns to the themes of The Warden in being very much about the social consequences of scandal and the practical importance they have, whereas No Name is all about the legal consequences and the social effects that follow as a result. I liked it! I especially liked the character of Dr Wortle, who is principled and determined on following his conscience in the face of social pressure and serious threatened consequences, but who is also dictatorial, prone to poor judgement and not always actuated by purely charitable motives; I think Trollope is too sympathetic to his failings, but I nevertheless liked how he portrays his protagonist's complexity. The book is let down by a particularly annoying Victorian love subplot which increasingly eclipses the main story towards the end, but aside from that it was worth reading.
