I Capture the Castle, by Dodie Smith

I had intended to go back to my Chinese book after the short break I took to read Postcards from the Edge, but then I finished that book on my commute to work and I needed something to read on my way home that day. I keep a small stash of books at the office for just this scenario, and so from that stack I selected I Capture the Castle, which I finished yesterday. Today, I'm not sure whether or not I will return to my Chinese novel next or read something else.

I had seen the movie of I Capture the Castle before picking up the book, but thankfully I didn't remember it at all. I also think the book must have a very different feeling from the movie just because I don't know how the movie can have gotten into the journal-keeping narrator Cassandra's head the way the book does. (I similarly remember wondering how the movie adaptation of Call Me By Your Name would handle a story that relied so heavily on first person introspection, but it succeeded well enough so maybe I should watch I Capture the Castle again -- and also give myself the opportunity to see a young Henry Cavill in action, which seems like it would be a pleasant thing to do.) In any case, this book was a delight. Cassandra has such feeling; it read very true to the late teenage experience. One of the things I truly loved was her warmth and empathy for everyone. I was sort of surprised (though also not) to come across a whole thread of people on Goodreads who found her tiresome. I think Dodie Smith has captured so well the way the young may take themselves over-seriously and a kind of pretension that comes with being that age, while also making Cassandra articulate and interesting (to me, at least). I mean, she is criticized by another character in the book for being consciously naïve -- clearly Smith was aware that she created the character thus. Anyway, I guess it's not for everyone, but I loved this book. I looked forward to reading it every day. I was happy and sad to finish it.

Postcards from the Edge, by Carrie Fisher

You might think I've been neglecting to updates this blog, but in fact I had not finished another book until yesterday. I'm in the midst of my third attempt at a Chinese novel and I do intend to go back to this one, but it's a slow read. I went on a 5-day work trip and didn't pick up a book the whole time, and when I got back, I decided I wanted to read something a little breezier. Postcards from the Edge turned out to be just what I needed.

I don't think I really registered that Carrie Fisher was a writer until she died and I read all these tributes to her writing. I remember the existence of the movie Postcards from the Edge, but I never saw it and I didn't realize she had written the book until I saw it hailed again and again in the days after her death. So, when I saw Postcards from the Edge on the shelves at my local thrift store where books are $1, I grabbed it. It was even better than I expected - touching and funny and brilliant all at once. I laughed out loud on the subway more than once. The narrator, Suzanne Vale, makes being a celebrity sound boring and normal, while also demonstrating self-awareness about her privilege. The descriptions of rehab and recovery were so perceptive. This book was really a delight!