In Which I Mercilessly Make Fun of Margaret George: The Book List

I have now brought up my reading list to three books, which is still pitiful considering I don’t do much at all save for stare into space and read TMZ.com on weekends. Weekdays when I’m not working out are somewhat rare—sure, I’m not working out, but I’m usually not home, either.

So you may colored me surprised that I finally finished Galileo’s Daughter, after finishing Helen of Troy of course. Both were good reads, with Galileo’s Daughter dragging at bits and Helen of Troy being laughably bad at times. I think what amused me most from George’s Helen of Troy was her obvious obsession with Marlowe’s Dr. Faustus and the brief interlude in which a (demon disguised as) Helen appears and give Dr. Faustus the lusty escape he needs in order to forget the fact that he’s damned all to hell and about to endure an eternity’s worth of torture. George’s postscript confirms this, in which she says that writings on Helen “culminated” with Marlowe. Um, author lady? It was one scene and the play is not in any way about Troy except for Faustus’ use of Helen as an escape. And you know, it’s not really Helen, you know? It’s a demon disguised as, and all that Faustus is doing is sleeping with a member of Hell’s employees. God, who got that assignment, I wonder? I’m sure it’s some poor demon-in-training, trying to make his/her way up Hell’s corporate ladder and learning demonic culture as opposed to just being one of the tortured. Then again, since Hell is the absence of God to some . . . Reading past her postscript to her “About the Author”, George proudly declares herself a fifth generation American. Um . . .

So?

If we’re going to get technical about it, my family has been on the American continent longer than hers, and my nth generation definitely trumps George. After all, us WordNerdians helped establish Zacatecas and rode into New Mexico with Juan de Oñate. Any way you cut it, we were here longer. Nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah, Margaret George!

That aside, Helen of Troy was decent. The telescoped time really didn’t work for me (it was so glorious in Troy, the years before the war and the 10 years during the war felt like nothing to Helen and Paris), and I kind of missed the gods mucking it up for everyone (they were there, but to a much less obvious degree). I really missed Homer in this. I also was annoyed by George’s constant quoting of Marlowe’s speech given to Faustus (you know, the “topless towers of Illium” bit) and by Helen stupidly declaring, every once in a while and to other characters’ disdain, that generations to come would write of her love with Paris. Still, it was fluff, fun fluff, and I have to say I enjoyed the sisterhood that Helen and Clytemnestra shared. I of course felt for poor Menelaus, because Paris has never had redeeming qualities for me, and no matter how much Helen and George dress him up, he’s still a whiny little boy who takes what isn’t his and then pouts when he’s called on it. Typical male.

I can’t say much about Galileo’s Daughter other than it’s an excellent piece of that great field known as the history of science and quite a touching documentation of the strong bond between a father and his daughter. Her support for his science and for his ordeal with the Inquisition is beautiful, as she saw Galileo as he saw himself: a good Catholic whose pursuit of scientific knowledge did not interfere with his faith. Her fretting over him, in good times and in bad, his support of her and the convent which she entered at the age of 13, is artfully rendered by Dava Sobel, who clearly respects both her subjects for their intelligence and humanity.

Yes, I have less to say about Galileo’s Daughter, but Margaret George is just so good at pissing me off—that’s not say Helen of Troy wasn’t entertaining (it was) or that it wasn’t well-written (George can write), but it’s what much of historical fiction tends to be: overblown. George has gotten better since her Henry VIII and Mary, Queen of Scots days (Mary, Called Magdalene was pretty damn good), but she slipped back into her love of the dramatic this time around. Guess you can’t really subject Mary Magdalene to much realized lust unless you’re willing to walk in the footsteps of Nikos Kazantzakis or Martin Scorsese, eh?

Anyway, now that those two have been placed back onto my (one) bookshelf, I’m tackling Writing Ann Arbor, edited by Laurence Goldstein (he was my professor at the U of M, briefly, before I switched out of his section for a creative writing course). I won’t say much, but the anthology of Ann Arbor writings almost makes me want to write lovingly about the alma mater. Almost—not quite there yet, but I do have an idea for a blog post.

Onto the second 2007 book list:

Finished:

1) Love Is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield
2) Galileo’s Daughter: A Historical Memoir of Science, Faith and Love by Dava Sobel
3) Helen of Troy by Margaret George

Re-read:

Empty

Currently Reading:

1) Writing Ann Arbor: A Literary Anthology Edited by Laurence Goldstein

Waiting To Be Read (Already Purchased, Got as Gifts, Borrowed from My Boyfriend, or Otherwise Accessible without the Use of Funds, But Not an Assurance That I Will Read These Before I Buy More Books):

1) Evolving God: A Provocative View on the Origins of Religion by Barbara J. King