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A.S. Byatt's Possession (1990)

In the 90s, when I was an English major undergrad at a small mid-Atlantic liberal arts college, Possession, a novel by A.S. Byatt, was read by everyone, as they say, though, curiously, I don't remember what anyone said about it. I do remember spotting it in the hand of a fellow traveler while backpacking on the British Isles and thinking, rather provincially, "Wow, this book is everywhere!"

Possession was, in its time, a big deal on the order of something like The Help or The Hunger Games, if you happened to be one of the people it was written for: readers with a high tolerance for epistolary narrative and Victorian poetry, and who want all of their friends to know it.

Or to put it another way, for readers of Donna Tartt's The Secret History, which I, personally encountered before Possession, but which Wikipedia tells me was published two years later. We did not, of course, have Wikipedia in the 90s. Nor did we have social media, or cell phones, or even email, when I read Possession for the first time.

Another thing we did not have in college in the 90s was any sense of the impending assaults upon the humanities in academia, and it is in this, perhaps, that the novel ages poorly, moreso than for the spidery lines on crinkly paper and garbled analog messages taken down for housemates.

And our characters in Possession assume, as they must, that connecting through written communication is a sign of intellectual favor, or at least luck. So when Daniel Lavery's classic parody pieces Texts from are a staple of Internet humor, does the romantic tension of handwriting-plus-time remain legible?

Our characters also assume, as they must, that the good ol' boys of humanities academia will, eventually, make way for women scholars studying the voices of women writers while leaving the institutions intact that were built for their studies of charismatic figures like Tennyson.

I mean, the characters in this book are users of card catalogs, an ancient technology that is not explained in its ubiquity and grandeur, except as the life's work of a kind but batty old scholar. Her account of her academic career, relegated by her (male) seniors to the literary equivalent of women's work, is offered as an analogue to the sexist treatment of Victorian women poets, and as a warning to our modern woman scholar, Dr. Maud Bailey.

But the warning that centering a woman's voice is the recipe for a wasted intellectual life fails to address the patriarchal self-destruction we work in now, aggrieved by the relentless tides of quality scholarship incorporating diverse voices, and aggressively smashing institutions where such studies, by rights, should find a home. Possession documents a world we were already losing when the author was collecting her Booker Prize for writing it.

However perhaps the fate of Possession as a forgotten cultural artifact can be explained more simply by its dreadful film adaptation in 2002 by the misogynist Neil LaBute. A metafictional novel about the eroticism of intellectual connection was rendered shabbily, grudgingly cross-cutting the romances together, and progressing only when clever bitches are reduced to smitten puddles. And the letter-finding scene in the novel, which depends upon Dr. Bailey's mastery of her academic domain, becomes a crude comic vignette in which the tousled male hero is roused to accompany Dr. Bailey as she gropes through antiques in the dark -- she could not possibly follow her intellectual hunch alone and unwitnessed.

Giving credit where it is due, LaBute made a Dan Brown movie adaptation before The Da Vinci Code was even published, and Gwyneth Paltrow shows up to do her Viola de Lesseps accent, in a pantsuit. A movie about academic men unsettled by literate women could have been an interesting artifact of the time, but the novel Possession didn't have to be utterly ruined to do it. For Neil LaBute's role in all this, let's just ring Septa Mordane's bell of shame.

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Doorstoppers Book Club Info

This post gives general information about a monthly book club that I run, reading long-form fiction novels, usually with sci-fi, fantasy or meta-fictional elements. It started in 2025 and will run for as long as we feel like gathering to discuss our recent reads.

For now, the book club is by invite only. If you know me IRL and want to join, please ping me on whatever shared platform we are on. If a participant gave you this link, please ask them to contact me to add you to the group list.

Our past reads:

The Moon Represents My Heart, by Pim Wangtechawat

Wolf Hall, by Hilary Mantel

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, by Gabrielle Zevin

Death of the Author, by Nnedi Okorafor

Orbital, by Samantha Harvery

The Grimoire Grammar School Parent Teacher Association, by Caitlin Rozakis

Up next:

The City We Became, by N.K. Jemisin

Books that have been pitched:

Ducks, by Kate Beaton

The Devils, by Joe Abercrombie

Trust, by Hernan Diaz

Wrong Way, by Joanne McNeil

The Fraud, by Zadie Smith

Other books to consider:

Infinite Jest, by David Foster Wallace

Station Eleven, by Emily St. John Mandel

The Adventures of Cavalier and Clay, by Michael Chabon

Possession, by A. S. Byatt

James, by Percival Everett

Babel, by R. F. Kuang

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, by Susanna Clarke

My StoryGraph is here:

https://app.thestorygraph.com/profile/emelye

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I first encountered David B.'s work in Epileptic, with its frantic, emotive art.

Hâsib brings similar energy to Scheherazade's meandering betrayals, transformations, and monster fights.  A boy is locked in a cave with a storytelling serpent queen, where he must learn important lessons about whom to trust in a wicked world.  This is epic fantasy free of medievalist elvish lore and fallen-world melancholia, more Grimm than grimdark.  All while providing a masterclass in how the tools of sequential art (see Understanding Comics: The Invisible Art) can structure a modern translation of an archaic work of art.  The characters of each nested tale-within-a-tale are instantly distinguishable from each other, and the banners announcing the passing of Scheherazade's nights remind us why this story was meant to be told.

Some books make a cross-country train delay pass painlessly and this book is one of them.  

Disclosure:  I received a copy of this book by entering a Goodreads Giveaway.

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This question is for people who read Dark is Rising fanfiction on AO3 and also read things other than fanfic

pathless-wood:

You know that mood you can get into, the one that makes you think “It would be a good idea to go revisit old Dark is Rising fanfiction on AO3″? The yen for some combination of, like, Welsh mountains and memory loss/recovery and tasteful romance and long, quiet struggles against evil and ancient creatures and time travel and Midwinter and the UK in the 1980s? 

If a person is in that mood, but feels like it’s kind of sad to reread the same fics over and over…

What original, non-fanfiction reading would you recommend? 

I mean, you have a lot of requirements, but splitting them up a bit to mix and match gives me a few things that come to mind -

First is def The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater (also the Scorpio Races) - I mean, she’s actually rec’ced the Dark is Rising if you want to read something along the lines of the Raven Cycle. I think it influenced her? If I remember correctly. Also, lgbt characters in the Raven Cycle. The only difference is that it’s set in my home state of VA, which is indeed a magical place (although I may be biased, heh)

Sasha L. Miller tends to write stories with very quiet sorts of struggle. They def don’t have the loud, messy and “!!!!” climaxes of many other stories (not that those are bad, ha, this is a person who loves adventure fic speaking), and her stories always both relax me while still keeping running towards the finish . I really liked Drinker Class X, for example, and Losing Ground. These are lgbt+ stories too.

Others I’d rec are The Night Circus and The Dream Merchant, because they’ve both got a dreamy and quiet atmosphere, despite being loud at times, and the struggles have a very internal feel to them. Plus amazing world-building and magic.

Another kind of epic read , which I’m rec’cing purely because I love it, is The Orphan’s Tales by C. Valente. It’s an intense framework folktale fairytale epic that’s breathtaking to read, if long. Some parts are quiet, some parts are loud, but there’s a very peculiar slowness about it, like very deliberate-like, and it flows gracefully.

I couldn’t match the UK requirement - besides Scorpio Races - but I got memory loss and recovery, tasteful romance, long and quiet struggles against evil, ancient creatures, I think some minor time travel, and a bit of Midwinter in there.

I hope this helps!

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Cixin Liu’s The Three-Body Trilogy

Also known as Remembrance of Earth’s Past Trilogy

Set against the backdrop of China’s Cultural Revolution, a secret military project sends signals into space to establish contact with aliens. An alien civilization on the brink of destruction captures the signal and plans to invade Earth. Meanwhile, on Earth, different camps start forming, planning to either welcome the superior beings and help them take over a world seen as corrupt, or to fight against the invasion. The result is a science fiction masterpiece of enormous scope and vision.

Get now:  The Three-Body Problem / The Dark Forest / Death’s End  

Liu Cixin is a nine-time winner of the Galaxy Award (China’s most prestigious literary science fiction award) and winner of the Nebula Award. Liu’s work is considered hard science fiction. Liu’s most famous work, The Three-Body Problem, was published in 2007. It was translated into English by Ken Liu and published by Tor Books in November 2014, and won the 2015 Hugo Award for Best Novel. He was the first Asian writer to win “Best Novel”

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A beautiful gift from my love. I’ve had my eye on this graphic novel forever, I’m so excited to finally have it! 

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hey :) I know you're not a HP blog, but I just wanted to ask a follow up question about what you wrote. I look back on Harry Potter with a lot of nostalgia (like most people) because I felt like it was what got me really interested in reading and literature as a child. I was just wondering if you think there's too much hype around it being a 'children's book for adults', and what your specific problems with the plot were?

Hiya! HP was a big touchstone for my childhood as well; my mom’s a university librarian, and she brought me advance copies of the first three (before they got so insanely popular that she would’ve had to sell her soul to get me an early copy of Goblet of Fire). 

I think the series overall holds up for three reasons. One, Rowling knows how to pace her mythology (generally, see my comment on the Hallows below), expertly using the characters’ awe at new places/people/objects/ideas to cue that of the audience, in a very Spielberg-like fashion. Two, HP is just a classic English boarding school story…as set in a magic castle that kinda sorta seems to be alive. Three, the central themes are bracingly uncompromising and mature: your abilities won’t save you from your choices, and heroism is a painful burden, not a thrilling power-up. This, right here, is the core of the story:

“Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain ispart of being human —” 

“THEN — I — DON’T — WANT — TO — BE — HUMAN!”Harry roared, and he seized one of the delicate silver instruments fromthe spindle-legged table beside him and flung it across the room. Itshattered into a hundred tiny pieces against the wall. Several of thepictures let out yells of anger and fright, and the portrait of ArmandoDippet said, “Really!” 

“I DON’T CARE!” Harry yelled at them, snatching up a lunascopeand throwing it into the fireplace. “I’VE HAD ENOUGH,I’VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, IDON’T CARE ANYMORE —” 

He seized the table on which the silver instrument had stood andthrew that too. It broke apart on the floor and the legs rolled in differentdirections. 

“You do care,” said Dumbledore. He had not flinched or made asingle move to stop Harry demolishing his office. His expression wascalm, almost detached. “You care so much you feel as though you willbleed to death with the pain of it.” 

“I — DON’T!” Harry screamed, so loudly that he felt his throatmight tear, and for a second he wanted to rush at Dumbledore andbreak him too; shatter that calm old face, shake him, hurt him, makehim feel some tiny part of the horror inside Harry. 

“Oh yes, you do,” said Dumbledore, still more calmly. “You havenow lost your mother, your father, and the closest thing to a parentyou have ever known. Of course you care.” 

“YOU DON’T KNOW HOW I FEEL!” Harry roared. “YOU —STANDING THERE — YOU —”But words were no longer enough, smashing things was no morehelp. He wanted to run, he wanted to keep running and never lookback, he wanted to be somewhere he could not see the clear blue eyes staring at him, that hatefully calm old face. He ran to the door, seizedthe doorknob again, and wrenched at it. 

But the door would not open. 

Harry turned back to Dumbledore. 

“Let me out,” he said. He was shaking from head to foot. 

“No,” said Dumbledore simply. 

Harry doesn’t just want out of the room, he wants out of destiny, humanity, life. It’s a portrait of helpless rage and utter despair that seared itself onto my brain the first time I read it, and it hasn’t faded one bit. 

So why didn’t I care for Deathly Hallows? Well, for one thing, with barely any Hogwarts, we lose that boarding-school narrative that I cherish so deeply. I know that was the point, but I think the book suffers for it. The Hallows themselves just come right out of nowhere to dominate endgame, which is pretty poor writing, and I don’t really like “collect all the sacred objects!” stories. (If I want to play a video game, I’ll play a video game.) Tonally, Hallows is straight-up grimdark, in a way that’s often IMO unenjoyable to read. Rowling also isn’t especially good at writing war stories, compared to her skill at writing mysteries. And then there’s the epilogue, in which all the existentialist insight of the scene quoted above is drained away and replaced by pap: Harry and Ginny’s kid has a too-perfect name, Voldemort dying fixed everything, “all was well.” HP really, really, really needed a Scouring of the Shire equivalent. (But the Dobby burial scene alone still makes Hallows worth a read.) 

My favorite HP character, for the record, is Viktor Krum. What a mensch, that man! So humble and empathetic and sweet; Rowling sets you up for this Slavic stereotype complete with accent, and then drops a three-dimensional character into your lap. 

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“I was specifically looking for ten 1) female writer/creators 2) of color who specifically 3) write about sci-fi/dystopia. Women and stories that fit that criteria are out there, but they’re hard to find. In part, because patriarchy and racism; but also because there are seemingly more female authors of color on the fantasy side of speculative fiction, as many of their cultures tell stories using magical realism and supernatural elements that don’t quite fit in the sci-fi sphere.

HOWEVER, I did compile an awesome list for sci-fi fans who want to explore sci-fi stories – worlds set in the future and filled with space exploration, aliens and/or super-cool (if slightly ominous) tech – created by women of color. Some of the names you might already know, some of them you might not, but they are all worth looking into if you want to broaden your sci-fi horizons!

See the full list here

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The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe: A Summary

Lucy: there's a magical world inside of this closet

Edmund: don't believe her

Peter: I don't believe you

Aslan: believe her

Susan: Jesus Christ, a talking lion

Aslan: you are correct in multiple ways

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*dares you to write medieval fantasy without royal or noble-blooded protagonist(s)*

*dares you to write multiple viewpoint medieval fantasy entirely from women’s perspectives*

*dares you to write medieval fantasy without magic*

*dares you to write medieval fantasy with twists*

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Sally gets it!! #loveyourlibrary #peanutslifelesson #library

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Not long, not long my father said Not long shall you be ours The Raven King knows all too well Which are the fairest flowers. The priest was all too worldly Though he prayed and rang his bell The Raven King three candles lit The priest said it was well Her arms were all too feeble Though she claimed to love me so The Raven King stretched out his hand She sighed and let me go The land is all too shallow It is painted on the sky And trembles like the wind-shook rain When the Raven King goes by For always and for always I pray remember me Upon the moors, beneath the stars With the King’s wild company.”

Susanna Clarke, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (via veritasnoir)

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The Independent Bookstore Day festivities have begun! All day long we’re featuring reading recommendations from bookstore staff and volunteers, Housing Works clients, our author friends (like Rosie, above) aaaaaand YOU! Stop by today and add your pick to our recommendations table. It’s just one of the special holiday fun things going on today, #bookstoredaynyc. (Plus everything in the store is 30% off!)

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The carrier of carriers. A tribute to Terry Pratchett

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Vintage Shakespeare.

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She was stretched on her back beneath the pear tree soaking in the alto chant of the visiting bees, the gold of the sun and the panting breath of the breeze when the inaudible voice of it all came to her. She saw a dust-bearing bee sink into the sanctum of a bloom; the thousand sister-calyxes arch to meet the love embrace and the ecstatic shiver of the tree from root to tiniest branch creaming in every blossom and frothing with delight.

Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston

One of my favorite books of all time. I read it every Spring to get back to myself. 

(via mamabearearthquake)