In The Aeneid, Vergil's hero fights to claim the king's daughter, Lavinia, with whom he is destined to found an empire. Lavinia herself never speaks a word in the poem. Now, Ursula K. Le Guin gives Lavinia a voice in a novel that takes the reader to the half-wild world of ancient Italy, when Rome was a muddy village near seven hills.--From amazon.com.
Having read other books of LeGuin, I recognize a certain love she weaves into her books - her main characters have something honorable, likable, proud, soft yet strong, worthy in them. This makes it a pleasant read, but i miss the richness of imagination present in her other books, as well as the excitement - the plot is fairly predictable. Understandable as this book is mainly an ode to the Aeneid and she had to limit her imagination to the frame setting of that world. A pleasant, interesting read nonetheless.
I'm guessing a lot of subtleties passed me by due to my lack of familiarity with Vergil, but I feel like I absorbed some of the author's appreciation. It feels like a devoted ode to the masterpiece with lots of educated exploration from a female perspective in the spaces offered by the story.
An interesting book. As usual, Le Guin's prose is nearly flawless, and her ability to convey complex ideas simply is unparalleled.
If there's anything to criticize about this book, it's that Le Guin doesn't take her ideas far enough. The most interesting part, the part where she could have delved further I think, is the meta nature of Lavinia's conversations with "the poet" and the implications on free will, destiny, etc. She does of course touch these topics, but they are explored only tangentially. And of course she could have gone even further — but possibly not without devolving to a frivolous fictional solipsism a la King's Dark Tower VII.
But that I feel she could have done more does not make the story she told unworthy in any way. It is an interesting tale about a marginal character in the popular (though as Le Guin explains in her …
An interesting book. As usual, Le Guin's prose is nearly flawless, and her ability to convey complex ideas simply is unparalleled.
If there's anything to criticize about this book, it's that Le Guin doesn't take her ideas far enough. The most interesting part, the part where she could have delved further I think, is the meta nature of Lavinia's conversations with "the poet" and the implications on free will, destiny, etc. She does of course touch these topics, but they are explored only tangentially. And of course she could have gone even further — but possibly not without devolving to a frivolous fictional solipsism a la King's Dark Tower VII.
But that I feel she could have done more does not make the story she told unworthy in any way. It is an interesting tale about a marginal character in the popular (though as Le Guin explains in her Afterword, much less known than it should be) story of the Aeneid. It is, in a way, the contrapositive of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead — and if that means nothing to you, all I can say is that I wish I had Le Guin's trick of stating things more clearly.
I doubt this well ever be my favorite Le Guin story, but it was well worth the time spent reading it, nonetheless.
Despite Jenna's fears of the room overflowing, it was just a normal book group, with most of the usual people. (Carolyn was missing, stuck in Paris, which was a shame, as I think that she would have enjoyed it. Although being stuck in Paris probably isn't too much of a hardship.) We did a first round around the table, as we usually do, then the author got her turn. She hadn't intended on writing a novel. She'd taken Latin in high-school and hadn't been allowed to read any poetry, instead spending a year reading Cicero. Only in recent years did she find the time to pick up her Latin again, and took to Vergil. And fell in love. And partway through the Aeneid, she found the nearly transparent character of Lavinia, and found that character dragging a novel out of her. The second half of the Aeneid is based on …
Despite Jenna's fears of the room overflowing, it was just a normal book group, with most of the usual people. (Carolyn was missing, stuck in Paris, which was a shame, as I think that she would have enjoyed it. Although being stuck in Paris probably isn't too much of a hardship.) We did a first round around the table, as we usually do, then the author got her turn. She hadn't intended on writing a novel. She'd taken Latin in high-school and hadn't been allowed to read any poetry, instead spending a year reading Cicero. Only in recent years did she find the time to pick up her Latin again, and took to Vergil. And fell in love. And partway through the Aeneid, she found the nearly transparent character of Lavinia, and found that character dragging a novel out of her. The second half of the Aeneid is based on Homer's Iliad, and is filled to the brim with the violence of battle. But she sees it as an anti-war statement.
We talked until closing time, about writing, poetry, authors reading their own works and how some can do it, and some can't (Apparently e.e.cummings is one of these). She recommended Saramago's The Stone Raft as one of her all-time favorites. And she's started a blog.
