nonfiction

Book Review: Shirley Jackson: A Rather Haunted Life

To me, Shirley Jackson is one of the most fascinating authors in American literature. I’m sure that every high school students in the U.S. vividly remembers reading “The Lottery” for the first time, and The Haunting of Hill House has become one of the great classics of literary horror. Yet, Jackson also wrote light-hearted family stories for women’s magazines. So when I saw Ruth Franklin’s biography of Shirley Jackson, I was intensely curious. What inspired Jackson to write the disturbing fiction that she did? How did she reconcile those stories with the ones she wrote about her family and children in such a light-hearted way?

Ruth Franklin’s biography draws together the seemingly disparate elements of Jackson’s life, balancing the loving mother and irreverent housewife with the woman who unerringly found the dark fault lines beneath the seemingly idyllic post-war American suburbs. Jackson suffered from her mother’s cruel and cold-hearted judgements and her own deep insecurities, which were exacerbated by a husband who was her biggest supporter and most vicious critic. Jackson’s own life reflected the contradictions of her time, when women had won the right to vote and often found success in new fields, yet were also burdened with huge household responsibilities and expectations. What’s more, Jackson captured some of the loneliness and isolation women often felt at this time. It’s no surprise that many of her protagonists are quite literally trapped within their homes, often alone except for immediate family members.

Cover of Shirley Jackson: A Rather Haunted Life by Ruth Franklin

Cover of Shirley Jackson: A Rather Haunted Life by Ruth Franklin

As a wife, mother, and writer myself, I was often shocked at how much Shirley’s situation spoke to me personally. She had four children and often wrote while her babies were napping, as I did when my children still took naps. She struggled to keep her house as clean as her neighbors expected, and until The Haunting of Hill House was published and became a huge phenomenon, she and her husband struggled with money. She struggled with her weight; her mother sent her cruel letters criticizing her for her looks, even after she became a bestselling author. Her doctors prescribed her weight-loss drugs and diet drinks. For someone who lived so long ago, her life and story felt strangely modern, and her struggles similar to the ones many creative women have today—balancing work and family, the pressures to look a certain way or to lose weight, dealing with unsupportive or misunderstanding family members.

I also love the way that Franklin captured some of Jackson’s writing process and the creation of her books. It certainly inspired me to read more of Shirley Jackson’s writing, in particular We Have Always Lived in the Castle, and hopefully I’ll eventually gear myself up to read the Haunting of Hill House (it sounds terrifying). I’m also curious about Jackson’s family memoirs as well, and I’ve read several of the stories in Let Me Tell You.

I’d recommend this book to anyone who’s interested in writing and biographies, and especially female writers. It’s a compelling read about a woman with an incredibly interesting life.

Review: Sounds and Sweet Airs

While I mostly love to read sci-fi and fantasy, I do read other genres. As a classical musician and music teacher, I particularly like to read books about classical music and famous composers (I’d recommend Mozart’s Letters to anyone). I’ve had to teach a lot of music history due to Covid 19, and I wanted to include female composers as a regular part of my curriculum. In my research on female composers, I stumbled across Anna Beer’s Sounds and Sweet Airs, a book about “the forgotten women of classical music.” It focuses on eight female composers throughout history, telling about their lives, their struggles, and of course, their music. It’s a fascinating look at women who often achieved considerable recognition and respect within their own lifetimes, yet somehow their music was often ignored by (mostly male) musical historians after their deaths.

Cover of Sounds and Sweet Airs by Anna Beer

Cover of Sounds and Sweet Airs by Anna Beer

I loved reading this book—it was inspiring to me as a female musician who was always nervous about trying to write my own music. But in addition, it felt like a breath of fresh air. I felt like the stories of these women reflected a part of music history that I always suspected was there, but was somehow always obscured by the narrow focus on only a few (always male) composers (though shout out to my early music history professor, who taught us about Barbara Strozzi and Francesca Caccini). Several of the composers I had never heard of before, including Marianna Martines and Elizabeth Maconchy.

It’s hard to generalize about the composers Beer describes—they are all from different time periods and backgrounds, and their music is unique. But each one managed to overcome the strictures and expectations of their gender to compose in her own voice. Each composer’s biography was well written and engaging, though I found the story of Lili Boulanger the most haunting. As I read about each composer, I also found recordings and performances of their music on Youtube. I particularly loved Fanny Hensel’s Das Jahr, Clara Schumann’s piano trio, and Francesca Caccini’s opera, La Liberazione de Ruggiero dall’isola d’Alcina.

Overall, I’d recommend this book to anyone interested in classical music or women’s history. It’s always a pity when truly beautiful and powerful music is neglected due to silly stereotypes, and it’s a great loss if we don’t enjoy these women’s brilliant music.

Ian Mortimer: One of My Favorite History Writers

In an earlier post, I wrote about how much I enjoy listening to history on audible or reading it. I think it’s very useful research for fantasy writers, and the stories in history are so fascinating! One of my favorite history writers right now is Ian Mortimer, who wrote “The Time Traveler’s Guide to Medieval England,” and many other great books. I already discussed the “Guide to Medieval England” in my previous post, but I’ve read or listened to many other excellent books by Mortimer. Here are a few I’ve enjoyed:

Edward III: The Perfect King

So my poor friends have had to listen to me nerd out about this book too much, so I should probably write about it! It’s an incredible look at one of the most successful, beloved, and glorious of England’s Medieval Kings. Yet his reign had one of the most inauspicious beginnings any King could have—his father was deposed by his mother’s lover, Roger Mortimer, when he was still underage. He quickly fell under Mortimer’s control, and had to survive some very real threats to his life and his crown. But in a dramatic turn around, Edward and his trusted companions made a bold move to sneak into Mortimer’s castle to capture and overthrow him. And that’s just the beginning of a very intense and dramatic reign, but one that also reflects the most exciting and romantic parts of the Middle Ages—jousting, poetry (Geoffrey Chaucer was a member of his court), feasts, and chivalry. He survived the Black Death and established the Order of the Garter. The book is an incredible story of the most pivotal man of the age, and I’d recommend it to anyone interested in Medieval history.

Henry IV: The Righteous King

This is a follow up book to Edward III: The Perfect King. Henry IV, like his cousin Richard II, was a grandson of Edward III. What I love about this book is how Mortimer manages to use the scant historical detail to create a living portrait of a man in a very difficult, unforgiving position. The reader feels the very real fear and dangers Henry IV faced, and the remarkable way he adapts to his circumstances and tries to find the right thing to do. Mortimer portrays a gallant and glorious man, a champion of the joust, who also has a deep love of books and music. Despite his reputation as a usurper, Henry IV showed remarkable patience and restraint towards Richard II, who several times threatens to murder Henry’s father, John of Gaunt. It’s a fascinating depiction of a king rarely discussed in English history.

The Time Traveler’s Guide to Elizabethan England

I loved The Time Traveler’s Guide to Medieval England, so I was excited to read Mortimer’s follow up, the Time Traveler’s Guide to Elizabethan England. I loved this book as much as the first one! It’s full of colorful and interesting depictions of Elizabethan life. It’s also an evocative portrait of Queen Elizabeth I herself, and how her own personal religious and cultural preferences fundamentally shaped both the age that bears her name and the history of England (and in particular the Church of England). If you have any interest in learning about real Elizabethan life, I’d highly recommend it.