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3.5 stars. If nothing else, read the first Reverie - it is excellent, and taken as a stand alone piece arguably deserves 5 stars, showing why "Ik Marvel" was once one of the foremost American writers.
It's a shame this part of the book hasn't made it into the "canon" of American short fiction alongside angsty and ephemeral but "culturally significant" pieces like Gilman's "Yellow Wallpaper."
I was curious about Mitchell: he is entirely forgotten now, but was an American man of letters in the grand old tradition of Washington Irving and William Dean Howells; he wrote on subjects from husbandry to history to landscaping to sentimental fiction, and was once a household name (this was Dickinson's favorite book). My hopes were high. The first Reverie - a flash of genius - reminded me of Irving particularly, with its wit, easy mastery of the language, effortless style and self-conscious lightness of heart. I was intrigued and read on. The next two reveries were also enjoyable, though the genius by then was admittedly burning lower, like the Bachelor's fire. Once the reveries turned to reminiscences the sentimentality came through in a way 21st century readers like myself will find hard to relate to. Nevertheless I suspect this reflects our cynicism and lack of moral sentiment as much as it does the author's mawkishness. If one has read this far, it is vital to press on to the end: though the second half of the book is tedious and belabored more often than not (though not always), a surprise ending does much to redeem it and reveals that Mitchell was "laying it on thick" partly by design. Overall a good read with parts that endure and resonate; not merely valuable as a window into another world, but (as the author intended) as a window into the human heart.
To all the comments calling this book slow and boring, I do not think you understand what the word "reverie" means. Donald Mitchell (IK Marvel) wrote these pieces with the very intent for the reader to become lost within his own mind. If you find this book lacks structure, is too tangential, or "a doozy" then you really are not understanding the purpose of his work. When discussing topics of the heart, of course he will not be standing rigidly in an office, but sitting comfortably before a fire with a cigar. While you may find it difficult to comprehend from his 19th century point of view, the messages on the complexities of love in this world still stand true. The beauty of all that he describes is purposefully written in a storm of confusion and contradiction because that is the very essence of true heartfelt emotion.
This book was a rather interesting piece. It is basically as the title suggests; the musings of a Victorian bachelor on the advantages and disadvantages of marriage. It is a good window into the thinking of the time.
Men have such boring thoughts. And no, this is not a condemnation of the reverie prose, but of the absurdly dull inclinations of the male thought. There were to be sure, thoughts that made me ponder, but overall I found myself yawning and checking my watch.
I’d like to revise my statement. After reading “Fireside Chastity”, which directly names this piece in its analysis, I will say I don’t like reading horny man thoughts.
Heavy sledding here, but I persevered because this was one of Emily Dickinson’s favorite books. It’s easy to see why: Marvel’s musings take place in a solitary room, late at night, and they are an homage to the art of writing, especially letters. He strews literary references like festive confetti, and most readers, myself included, will puzzle over them.
dull and sappy at first but before i knew it i was quite mesmerized… the dreamland is superior indeed. i too would like to sit under the favorite tree of my childhood home and imagine the past, present, future, and fantasy colliding in front of me
I would probably have enjoyed this a great deal more if my sensibilities had been developed in the 19th century. Published in 1850, this series of reflections, or reveries, were extremely popular at the time. I, however, had difficulty in finishing the book because of the overt 19th century sentimentality. Curiosity to know more about one of the classics of American popular literature of the era compelled me to complete it once I was heavily invested into it.
The criticism of this book was honestly more interesting than the book itself. But if you ever get the urge to sit in front of your fire, smoke a cigar, and ramble, I guess you'd enjoy it.