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Monday, September 29, 2008
a literary diversion to take my mind off more weighty matters
I first conceived of the idea for this post earlier this week while reading my nightly soul-soothing chapter or two of fiction, but I held the writing of it out as a reward for finishing my homework. Aren't I a good girl? Now I'm done, and I'm going to pretend that I don't have an exam next week that I could be studying for, and also that C's birthday party being a week away is no reason why I should be working on her present which is only half-finished right now, and I'm going to see if I can stay awake long enough to type a coherent post instead.
Our topic today, because it's my blog and I said so, is:
Rachel's Favorite Literary Couples.
(Now that's original, isn't it?)
In descending ascending lesser-favorite-toward-most-favorite order, or nearly thereabouts -- at least, I'm going to save my very favorite(s) for the end.
Judy and Jervis in Daddy Long-Legs by Jean Webster.
I don't really have a problem with the age difference (which is not as great in the book as it is in the film, which I've never seen), or even with the very slightly skeeve-ish adoptee/sponsor relationship between these two, and I do really love the whole secret-admirer/you-know-me-but-you-don't dynamic in this story. (This is also what I like about You've Got Mail, by the way.)
Erik and Christine in The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux.
OK, so this is definitely not a healthy relationship, even though the book does give you a million miles more insight into the psychology of the whole thing than the musical does. (Truly, I think they deprive the viewer of some seriously pertinent information in the musical... not that I don't like it, but I'm not sure I would like it as much if I couldn't understand some of the motivations and such that are clearer in the book.) But just on the strength of their last interaction, when Christine kisses Erik on the forehead, and on Erik's emotional description of said interaction when telling the Persian about it, they made the cut.
Father Tim and Cynthia in the Mitford series by Jan Karon.
Things I like: They find each other late(-ish) in life, and fall very much in love (but not straightaway), which is something that I think more young people need to read about because it's important for people of all ages to understand that passion is still possible past the age of fifty. (I was as bad as anyone about this. I remember wondering in my late teens why people over fifty bothered to marry at all. It's not like they were going to do anything at that age. Sheesh. They're old.) Also, the way the narrator lets us see Timothy's vulnerability and insecurity as he slowly "unbuttons his caution" enough to let himself fall in love is extremely endearing. (I just wish there were even the slightest possibility that someone would be complimenting my legs at the age of fiftysomething. Trust me, there's not.)
Jane and Stan in Fifteen by Beverly Cleary.
They're here simply because I love the innocence of teen relationships during that era (the 1950's). I love that the major climax of this story written for young teen girls occurs when a girl gets a boy's identification bracelet. This was the kind of relationship I used to daydream about (and I do not use that term lightly; we're talking protracted periods of staring into space here) as a girl, and I was sorely disappointed that my real-life teen relationships were not like this at all -- which they couldn't be, really, because, let's face it, I didn't live in 1955. (Plus, Stan was gorgeous. The dip in his hair! The white button-down shirt! *sigh*.)
Barney and Valancy in The Blue Castle by L.M. Montgomery
This is the only LMM relationship on the list, because LMM's love relationships always seemed rather poorly-drawn to me*, especially when the males would conveniently disappear for entire books. I don't think Montgomery had a healthy grasp on what a solid and happy relationship would look like, since she didn't have a lot of life experience to draw from. But she did nicely with Barney and Valancy, who don't have to be normal and happy; they can get away with being quirky, because she asked him to marry her thinking she had less than a year to live and he accepted as a favor out of pity. Part of the appeal of this book is watching these two mismatched people fall in love without really meaning to. Another part is discussing The Question with other KS-list members: Did they, or didn't they? (They did. They totally did.) (note: when you read this, which you must -- it's the law -- feel free to skip the nature-book passages. I always do. You don't miss anything other than a rather transparent attempt on LMM's part to slip in some of her beloved flowery, poetic prose into a novel written well past the era when it was welcome.)
*if I had a least-favorite literary couples list, LMM would be at the top with Emily and Teddy. Gack. OK, moving on.
Jamie and Claire in the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon.
This is another couple who married for reasons other than love and wound up (of course, because these are romance stories after all) falling for each other. Watching their chummy friendship spark into something deeper is delightful. Watching them reignite it when they get back together after twenty years apart is also very nice (although I could do without a lot of the other stuff in that book). In the later books they falter a bit, mostly because the quality of the stories overall starts to slack off, but in Outlander and in Voyager -- wow. As a bonus, this couple also scores points for promoting middle-aged married romance.
Henry and Clare in The Time-Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
You can't help but become engrossed in Henry and Clare's story, because you have to if you're ever going to figure the darn thing out. Niffenegger's novel is complex and utterly unique, and so are her leading characters, and so is their relationship. What can you expect when you have a couple who meet for the first time when he's an adult and she's six, and then meet again for the first time when she's around twenty and he's around... twenty-eight? And yet the whole thing works very well when you manage to untangle everything (the process of which is simply delicious), and their deep love for each other is fully believable.
Elizabeth and Nathaniel in the Wilderness series by Sara Donati
Donati does a simply brilliant job of drawing out the sexual and romantic tension juuuuust long enough, and her two characters are wonderfully drawn, very real, complicated human beings who make you root for their happiness. And spending your honeymoon together hiding from danger in the wilds of 1790's upstate New York certainly has its advantages from a togetherness point of view.
Lucy Snowe and M. Paul in Villette by Charlotte Brontë
A heroine who is nobody's fool, an anti-Byronic hero with a disreputable coat and the occasional attitude problem, an up-and-down teacher/student relationship between equals, religious differences in an era when that really mattered to a lot of people, unrequited love that becomes requited, and some very, very sweet final chapters. Throw in an opium dream or two, a legendary resident ghost, lots of paragraphs in French, and a secret passage with a mysterious crone inside and you've got the makings of a rippingly good love story. (Just please, for your own sake, don't read the last page. I'm tempted to tear mine out and rewrite it.)
OK, we're down to the top 5. I'm thinking I should have done this in installments.
Anne Elliot and Captain Wentworth in Persuasion by Jane Austen
This is my favorite Austen novel. Honestly, I would like this relationship better if one or both of them had spent their years apart secretly but ardently pining for each other, but the prosaic fact is that it appears that they didn't devote too much energy to their regrets until they were thrown together again. And I could just scratch that scheming Louisa's eyes out, except that she becomes a pitiful character later on and also I guess she didn't know she was stealing Anne's man, so I guess she gets a pass. And the idea of all those wasted years when they could have been together is really depressing and makes me hate Lady Russell a little, even though she's not as evil as they make her out to be in the otherwise-brilliant film. But the letter... at the end... oh my gosh. MOST ROMANTIC ENDING EVER. The first time I read this, I was reading in bed, and I literally gasped out loud and put my hand over my mouth and had to explain to my drowsy husband in an excited whisper what was happening. He was amused (at me), but not moved by the story. Maybe this sort of thing only really works for girls. I'm thinking yes.
Squire and Mrs. Hamley in Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell
I'm re-reading this right now and it was actually this relationship and my reaction to it that made me decide to write this post. Such a tender, lasting love between these two rather unlikely partners -- the bluff, loud Squire and his gentle London lady of a wife. You know almost from the moment you meet them how it's going to end, but getting to know them along with young Molly is a beautiful experience. It was for me, anyway. Have tissues handy.
Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
I thought about leaving them out just to avoid the cliché but I couldn't. They're simply too awesome. My favorite scenes in their growing relationship are the ones when Elizabeth is staying at Netherfield, and Mr. Darcy finds himself fighting his growing attraction for her. The idea of being desirable and interesting enough to chip away at a man's will without even wanting to certainly has a twisted kind of appeal, doesn't it?
Jane and Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë
Speaking of drawing out the tension. Ahem. The first time I read this novel -- blissful hours, every one -- when I got to the part where Jane has just rescued Mr. Rochester from the fire and he's in the hallway faltering through that speech about good genii and how when he first saw her he knew she would do him good in some way, it was the middle of the night and I just kept reading that exchange over and over with that full, light, exciting falling-in-love goosebumpish feeling, wishing I could go back in time to the moment when I hadn't read that passage just so I could have the pleasure of reading it again for the first time. When I re-read the book, I try to make myself forget that that part's coming, hoping I can recapture that first-time OH MY GOSH startlement, but of course I never quite can. (I can hear you sloooowly backing away now. Come back! Come back! I'm really not crazy, I swear!) And their whole story overall is just as compelling. I could do without the St. John thing, but those episodes had to happen in order to reach that ending where they could finally come together with no barriers as relative equals. (Plus there's that endearing exchange near the end when she's sitting on his knee and he's all jealous about that pipsqueak of a St. John who actually can't hold a candle to him.) *huge. sigh.*
And my very most favorite literary couple of all time (well, as far as I've read, anyway):
Admiral and Mrs. Croft in Persuasion by Jane Austen
I love, love, LOVE this tight-knit pair. Their affection for each other is lovely to behold, she who literally sailed to the ends of the earth with him (or, well, OK, to the East Indies... but not to the West Indies, because we do not call Bermuda or the Bahamas the West Indies, you know), who would rather be rolled in the ditch with him than driven safely by anyone else, and he who doesn't try to hide his love and affection for his wife of who knows how many years. (Actually, I get the impression that she's considerably younger than he is, so this doesn't exactly qualify as a geriatric love affair. Also, I can't remember why, but I have the impression that they've suffered disappointments in trying to have children. But I could definitely be wrong on both counts. Hmm! Time for a reread!) As an aside, the film with Amanda Root is sublime in its depiction of the love between Adm. and Mrs. Croft (and, well, in everything else too). At any rate, this is marriage the way I think marriage ought to be: devoted, affectionate, leavened with humor, and unabashedly honest about the pleasure they find in one another's company.
And that's that. What a pleasant way to spend two hours. It was therapy, really, considering how it took my mind off the state of the world and all its various woes. Now I want to see your lists, please. (They can be shorter than mine; I can't expect everyone to be as long-winded -- or as boring -- as I am.)
Comments
Ooh, fun! I'll definitely post a list, although it may take me a few days to get the post written up...
Posted by: Kat with a K at September 29, 2008 06:20 AM
I wonder if you would like Barbara Hambly. I first met has as a science fiction / fantasy author, and she does have some nice grown-up couples there, but to my mind her best work (though not always easy to read) is the Benjamin January mystery series beginning with A Free Man of Color. They explore the world of the demimondaine in the New Orleans of the 1820s/1830s, when it's transitioning from a French city to an American one. Ben January/Janvier is a free black man who has come back after the death of his wife from Paris, where he trained as a surgeon, to the New Orleans he ran away from, sick of its constrictions. He eventually falls in love again, over a couple of books, to a colored* woman who has her own scars and history, and they build their relationsihp very delicately and deliberately. Hambly is a historian herself, and I think she gets the period as right as a twenty-first century author is likely to be able to do.
*The differences between "black" and "colored" in the terminology of the time are well explained in the book and are very important socially.
Oh, yeah, one warning: most of the characters are free blacks / coloreds. This book is set during slavery times. There are some really, really, *really* ugly parts, and the worst are taken from contemporary records. But watching Ben build a life in that milieu is worth it.
Posted by: dichroic at September 29, 2008 10:09 PM
Okay, you got me hooked! I'll definitely have to do this, although a lot of my couples will be the same as yours. Barney and Valancy (and yes, they totally did)! Jamie and Claire! Henry and Clare! Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy! :-D
I agree completely with you regarding the last page of Villette. Ch! Had it just ended one page sooner it would have been a BRILLIANT book. Now it's a brilliant book with a rotten ending.
Posted by: Maria at September 29, 2008 11:43 PM
I have to disagree about Elizabeth and Mr Darcy. Yes, he fell deeply for her, against everything he had learned throughout his life, but SHE only fell for him when she saw the house. IMO she didn't love him - she loved Netherley.
Posted by: Carol at September 30, 2008 01:03 PM
Rachel -- this is a great list. The ones I don't know I'll have to look up, with the exception of the Karon. Sorry to say but she puts me to sleep.
Nathaniel and Elizabeth are delighted to have a spot, too.
Posted by: Rosina at September 30, 2008 04:15 PM
Oh, incidentally, a pal of mine borrowed my Into The Wilderness and loved it so much, she went to the library and ordered the lot, so that she didn't have to wait for me to remember to dig out the next one in the series :)
Posted by: Carol at October 1, 2008 11:57 AM
What is that one site that has the word game - the one where your points are given with a little cartoon character of what kind of person you are - a cheerleader, etc. I love it and I thought I could find the link here but I cannot...
Posted by: jennifer at October 3, 2008 10:43 AM
