Tag: Literature Blog

  • Non-Fiction Reads 2017

    Non-Fiction Reads 2017

    Shortly after I made the decision to name this blog Fictitiously Hilary I suddenly became aware that I was in a non-fiction phase. Smart thinking Webb. The phase came to somewhat of a startling halt in the last couple of months where the escapism benefits of fiction have been required. Having said that, non-fiction has still accounted for about a quarter of my 2017 reads – so I think the books in question deserve a blog!

    At present, my non-fiction TBR (to be read) pile does not exist, which is a really nice position to be in going into Christmas and the New Year.  There are several reasons why I’m happy about this, which I’ll explain at the end of this blog, but let’s go through my 2017 Non-Fiction Reads first, shall we?

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    Scrappy Little Nobody – Anna Kendrick

    As I’ve badgered on about before, I have an unexplainable love for actresses’ autobiographies and Scrappy Little Nobody was no exception. I’ve always been a fan of the sarcastic Anna Kendrick and it was nice to have some insight about her extraordinary childhood and remarkably ordinary young-adulthood. Her discussion about revealing magic numbers at the beginning of relationships was a high point for me. My review of SLN can be found here.

    Fifty Shades of Feminism – Lisa Appignanesi, Rachel Holmes & Susue Orbach

    I’ve read a few feminist essay collections and this is definitely one of my favourites. The discussions are intersectional as they cover, like the title suggests, the many shades of feminism that can, do and must exist. I also talk about FSOF here.

    Hunger Makes me a Modern Girl – Carrie Brownstein

    I still think I got this book by accident, thinking it was something else, but it was a happy accident. I really enjoyed Carrie’s life story and the positive messages she takes from it. My review is here.

    Animal – Sara Pascoe – Hilary’s 2017 Non-Fiction Fave

    Gah, I just loved this book. Being able to write about evolutionary and social factors of human sexuality and relationships in a funny, readable and understandable way is a rare talent and Sara Pascoe does it so well. I hope I can write a book like this one day! I mention this in here.

    Doing It – Hannah Witton

    Like I said in my review, I didn’t learn anything new in Doing It but it’s a book I wish I could have had as a teenage girl. If young people had access to a book like this I think they would grow up with a much healthier, sex positive and safe attitude towards sex.

    Girl Up – Laura Bates

    I’ve followed Laura Bates and the Everyday Sexism movement for years and while I did enjoy some parts of Girl Up a lot, like Doing It, I didn’t learn much but would have appreciated having it when I was younger.

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    Wishful Drinking – Carrie Fisher
    Shockaholic – Carrie Fisher
    The Princess Diarist – Carrie Fisher

    The late great Carrie Fisher dominated the non-fiction reads I took to South America on my Kindle last summer and I couldn’t have taken a better companion. My love of Star Wars and actresses’ autobiographies has nothing to do with why I love Carrie’s writing. It is so unique, so funny and so dark in a really intimate and brave way. Only makes you even sadder that Carrie and Debbie Reynolds are no longer with us. WEEP. (P.S. I saw the Last Jedi last week and, unsurprisingly, Carrie was amazing).

    Curious Pursuits – Margaret Atwood

    I bought this book years ago and only read the couple of chapters relevant to my coursework but I finally got around to reading it cover to cover this year… and I didn’t quite make it cover to cover. The first two thirds of the book I loved, but the last one I skimmed through the essays and articles I found the most interesting. It’s weird, with Atwood’s stuff I’m either totally bowed over and in love or a little “meh”. Hearing her talk at New Scientist Live this year was a definite highlight though!

     

    Radical Hope – Letters of Love and Dissent in Dagnerous TImes – Carolina de Robertis

    I read this as I was recovering from the disappointing laparoscopy in August and it was really nice to distract myself from the horrors of my uterus to the horrors of Trump, mostly because the letters in the book are written with such a profound sense of hope that thing’s will be OK, good even. If you want your faith in humanity restored, this is the one.

    Where Am I Now? – Mara Wilson

    Here we go again with another actress’ autobiography… except Mara Wilson is so much more than just the girl who played Matilda. This book is testament to her talent as a comic and a writer. Really enjoyed it. She is also ace on Twitter if you weren’t aware.

    Sweetening the Pill – Holly Grigg-Spall

    I wrote a blog discussing my mixed reaction to this book. While at the time it really motivated me and made me realise that I don’t have to feel guilty for not liking the pill anymore, I do think it’s important to be sceptical about this subject – to ask more questions. It’s hugely sensitive and it would be foolish to write-off the huge benefits hormonal contraception has offered the world, but equally foolish to accept that it’s the best we can do.

    Sex at Dawn – Christopher Ryan and Cacilda Jethá

    I was so excited for this book – science in action, learning about human sexuality and the flaws with it, but I was actually really disappointed. Like I said with Animal making these topics understandable and enjoyable is a hard task, one that I’m not sure this book achieves. However, I did enjoy the evolutionary observations between humans and bonobos when it comes to sex and relationships.

    The Female Eunuch – Germaine Greer

    As I’m sure you can tell by this point, my non-fiction hype had really distinguished and The Female Eunuch didn’t help. I was, again, really excited to read this, as I’d been promised a book that had awoken a generation of women to the feminist cause. I wish I had read it a few years earlier because so many of the ideas seemed a bit samey, which is obviously because the book, and Greer herself, inspired much of what has been written since. Yet the stuff since has developed, and those developments are vital.

    Unfinished Business – Anne-Marie Slaughter

    really didn’t like this book at first. Slaughter repeatedly addresses the privileged point she is writing from but then continues to write from it and some of the issues discussed seem a little trivial because of that perspective. However, later on in the book she makes a few interesting points about art creation and human creation, flexible work and freelancing, which was actually kind of insightful. But I still wish I had a pound for every time she writes “my Atlantic article”…

    My early frustrations with this last read further irritated my feelings towards all the non-fiction I’ve read this year. What’s my problem with it? For the most part, it’s all really white and fairly heteronormative. I think it’s understandable to write from your perspective, but to only read from that same perspective is small-minded and, quite frankly, boring. So in 2018 I hope my non-fiction reads will be more intersectional in every way possible – we can’t change the world if we don’t escape our own little bubble, can we? Recommendations for 2018 are greatly appreciated!

    Let me know what you think by sharing, commenting, or getting in touch on Twitter or Instagram

  • Review: Tigerish Waters – Sophie Reilly

    Review: Tigerish Waters – Sophie Reilly

    Launching this week is a stirring book written from the front line of a bright young woman’s battle with her mental health. Tigerish Waters is the selected writings of Glasgow-born Sophie Reilly, edited by her brother Samuel Reilly after Sophie took her life last year. This striking combination of poetry, prose and fiction is both an upsetting marker of a waste of talent and a celebration of a short but thoughtful life.

    Knowing the context around Tigerish Waters you might not expect the book to be so funny, but Sophie’s voice and style is a lot of really wonderful things, and comic is one of them. Having suffered with a plethora of mental illnesses including Anorexia Nervosa, Bipolar Affective Disorder and Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder, her writing speaks of unfathomable pain and hardship as well as total euphoria. By articulating her relationship with her mental health through drama, poetry, short stories and diary entries, Tigerish Waters offers insight into a gritty reality of extreme highs and the lowest of lows.

    The dark, ironic and humorous style leaves you wanting more from this talented young writer, but then you remember the context of the book’s publication and it all begins to feel desperately sad. Throughout, Sophie talks about the future, specifically about when she’s written a play or a memoir or a novel. “Nobody who attempts or commits suicide wants to die” she writes, and we think of how a book was always supposed to be part of Sophie’s future, but the reality is not how anyone, least of all Sophie, would have wanted it to come about. And yet, the publication of Tigerish Waters does come with barrels of hope. All profits made by the book are being donated to the Scottish Association for Mental Health (SAMH). The book passes comment on the “non-existence” of Dundee’s mental health services and the counter-productive support Sophie felt she received. Tigerish Waters has the power to serve as a real wake up call to a revolution that needs to happen with the treatment of mental illness in Scotland and beyond.

    For me personally, I was deeply effected by the normality of Sophie’s life. At first glance it is all very relatable. In her diary entries she talks about Gavin and Stacey, Harry Potter, Orange is the New Black, even her crush on the show’s star. She expresses her concerns about the overbearing presence of social media on girls’ self-esteem and she hesitates over whether or not she really needs a smartphone. She was a normal young woman with a promising future (she had been accepted to study Theology and Literature at St Andrews). If one ever needs a reminder of how mental health issues can and do impact everyone and anyone, Tigerish Waters is a prime example. In one diary entry Sophie calls us to take pride in our mental health issues. Taking inspiration from some of the triumphs of the Gay Pride movement Sophie titles the essay “Mental Health Pride”. It is a confident approach to mental illness that could have a really positive effect in my opinion, and I hope that message will be another positive thing to come from Sophie’s life.

    “If one ever needs a reminder of how mental health issues can and do impact everyone and anyone, Tigerish Waters is a prime example.”

    For me, the two most poignant parts of the book were the short play “Before the Snuff of the Lights” and the poem “Birth & Growth.” While both play an important part in telling Sophie’s story, they are also standout for their quality and creativity. (Update: I just heard a performance of “Before the Snuff of Lights” at the book’s London launch, which only affirmed my opinion that it is really extraordinary and mindful piece of writing.)

    It is easy to get swept up in the circumstances of Tigerish Waters’ publication, when perhaps the emphasis should be on the phenomenal talent the lies in the sentences and verses of Sophie’s writing. Anyone who has ever lived and wondered why will find something in this book that makes them say “I thought it was just me.” From that, I hope they will be motivated to demand help, receive it and share their unique voice with the world.

    Tigerish Waters, the selected writings of Sophie Reilly, edited by Samuel Reilly, is available on Amazon for £6.99. Published by Mad Weir Books, all profits from the book will be donated the Scottish Association for Mental Health.

  • My 5 Favourite Potter en Français Translations PART 1

    My 5 Favourite Potter en Français Translations PART 1

    As promised in my mid-year resolution that I made in September, I have been reading Harry Potter in French for the first time lately. This afternoon, as I picked up Le Prisonnier d’Azkaban, I was excited, not just because it has been a pleasure to return to the wizarding world, but because some of the translations for names and places have been half of the entertainment. So far I’ve found it spooky how even though I’m reading these books for the first time in years and in a different language, seeing the chapter titles is enough to fill me with the same excited glee as ever. Gilderoy Lockhart, is still just as arrogantly and ironically maddening as he is in English.

    Apologies to anyone who doesn’t like Harry Potter but honestly, what is wrong with you? For those who don’t speak French I’ll do my best to explain why I’m tickled. Without further ado, here are my favourite French translations from Harry Potter 1 and 2 – L’école des Sorciers and La Chambre des Secrets.

    Le Choixpeau Magique

    Now of course any new student at Hogwarts (or Poudlard, I should say) must be sorted into the correct house. I’ll touch upon the title of the houses in a moment, but let’s talk about the sorting process first, shall we? The infamous Sorting Hat is translated to le Choixpeau Magique, which honestly brings me an absurd amount of joy. “Choix” meaning choice, and “chapeau” meaning hat, it is an excellent squashing together of words that I fully support. It makes “Sorting Hat” suddenly seeming extraordinarily dull, for a talking hat, that is.

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    Touffu

    Now what’s better than Hagrid having named his giant three-headed dog Fluffy? The fact that in the French version, he names it Touffu. While it pretty much just a literal translation (it sort of means “dense-y”), I think it’s extra amusing for English readers of the French version (confused yet?) because it becomes a sickly sweet name, as well as just being totally mad.

    Deauclaire, Dubois, Chouvrage & Quasi-Sans-Téte

    A couple of names I randomly enjoyed the very literal translations of were Penelope Clearwater to Penelope Deauclaire, Oliver Wood to Olivier Dubois and Professor Sprout to Proffesseur Chouvrage. Simple, exact translations that just sound even better in French. The other really great example is Nick Quasi-Sans-Tête. Any guesses? Nearly Headless Nick, of course!

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    Poufsouffle

    Now Hogwarts isn’t Hogwarts in French, which does bother me slightly, but what is more fascinating is how some of the house names have been changed. Gryffindor becomes Gryffondor, Slytherin becomes Serpentard (both fair translations) but then Ravenclaw becomes Serdaigle and Hufflepuff becomes Poufsouffle. While they do literally translate to “claw of eagle” and “puffy puff”,  I do however get a little mad that the translator (Jean-François Ménard) doesn’t change their first names to keep the alliteration. It’s maddening to me to have Helga Poufsouffle and Rowena Serdaigle.

    Malefoy

    At first I didn’t think anything of the added “e” in Malfoy, but then I’m became suspicious that it might be a philosophy thing. I assume that Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone couldn’t be translated directly because France has such a long and complicated relationship with philosophy (Beauvoir, Satre etc.). Now I’m wondering if the same tradition has anything to do with Malfoy’s name too. “Mauvais foi” (bad faith) is an existential idea conceptualised by Beauvoir and Satre, and I’m sure I’ve read it as “mal foi” somewhere too. I may be wrong, and it could just be a pronunciation aid but I like to think it’s a little cooler than that. Malfoy’s character certainly has a little mauvais foi about him, I’m not sure the “e” is necessary…

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    Let me know if you’ve enjoyed this blog and I’ll highlight a few more of my favourites as I continue to read the series in French. 

    Now read Part 2, featuring Padfoot, Prongs, Grindylows & more