There was something in the air that night...

The stars were bright Fernando Orlando!!!!!

I just finished reading Virginia Woolf's Orlando. And yes, every time I say Orlando, it makes me want to start singing made up versions of Abba songs.

Highbrow taste in literature. Questionable taste in music?

I actually thought this wasn't so bad for a Woolf novel. I understood what was going on most of the time. There was some decent action and a few funnies scattered among the internal monologue bits (although of course, there were tons of internal monologue bits). And I didn't fall asleep every time I tried to finish it the way that I did with Mrs. Dalloway. Seriously, I don't even think I can tell you how Mrs. Dalloway ends, despite reading it all the way through. Perhaps best of all, it was later made into a movie with Billy Zane (this may only best if you've seen Zoolander).

The story centers on the life of a young Elizabethan nobleman named Orlando. Midway through the book, Orlando magically becomes a woman. Oh, and the book doesn't end until the 1920s, when Orlando is said to be 36. As an examination of gender roles and sexual identities, this all works fine. Of course, part of me wondered why Orlando's servants kept dying, while Orlando remains in her mid-thirties and occasionally runs into old comrades from Elizabethan days. Like a good Millennial, I'll just assume that maybe they are all vampires.

The good kind. No sparkles here.

And just for the gossipy juiciness of it, I'll go ahead and add that this novel was dedicated to Woolf's lover Vita Sackville-West. Vita pursued an alternative lifestyle back before it was the cool thing to do, and you can read more about her here.

Overall, the novel was fine. It held my interest mostly, and I would definitely recommend it as a starting point for anyone who wants to read Woolf. Oh, and it wasn't depressing, which is a HUGE WIN for me when it comes to this little project.

And now, off to catch some Abba on my Pandora station.

My, my, how can I resist you?

Buffy image found here.

The Original Debbie Downer

Just when I think that I've read the most depressing, heart-wrenching, makes-you-want-to-hurl-yourself-out-a-window novel on the list, I somehow manage to move on to another that makes the first look like a cheery Disney cartoon by comparison.

Not to be confused with a sad Disney cartoon. Still get choked up about Mufasa...

This is the story of Ethan Frome, possibly the most unfortunate human being to grace the face of fiction. The prose is beautiful and in many ways reminds me of a dark Poe tale, except that the grisly, shocking ending makes you feel like crying for days. Seriously, this is a sad, sad book.  In a nutshell, Ethan is a poor, hardworking guy married to incredibly annoying hypochondriac, buys-so-much-medicine-she's-running-them-into-the-poorhouse Zena (to be fair, I'd probably be annoying if I'd been saddled with a name like Zenobia). Her cousin Mattie comes to live with them, and of course Ethan falls in love with her because she's sweet and kind and actually smiles sometimes. Events transpire, Zena starts to suspect the lovey feelings between the two, probably because Mattie keeps serving them dinners of pickles and donuts (thank you for the subtle symbols, Edith Wharton), and Zena kicks Mattie out. On the ride to the train station, Ethan and Mattie confess their love, decide they can't live without each other and agree to commit suicide by sledding into a tree. At the risk of sounding callous, I will not further comment on that plan.

Of course, they don't die.

In the last scene of the book, Ethan Frome leads a guest into his home where two women are sitting; you realize that Mattie's injuries have changed her into a querelous invalid, and that the three of them are doomed to live out their days together, miserable. Waaa waaaaa.

Not only is this book DEPRESSING, I am not sure I even understand the point of all the depressingness. Is it a morality tale? Wharton clearly paints Zena in a super unsympathetic light, so I struggle to think this is some cautionary tale against cheating. And I sure hope it's not autobiographical, because...whoa. Makes me feel extra, triple thankful for my sweet husband, that's for sure!

Lurv.

For those who are interested, full text of Ethan Frome here. Have your tissues ready. And for those in the mood for something that will tear you up for a different reason, some Debbie Downer.

What's the saddest story you've ever read?

Lion King image found here.