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I for Isobel
Born into a world without welcome, Isobel observes it as warily as an alien trying to pass for a native. Her collection of imaginary friends includes the Virgin Mary and Sherlock Holmes. Later she meets Byron, W. H. Auden and T. S. Eliot. Isobel is not as much at ease with the flesh-and-blood people she meets, and least of all with herself, until a lucky encounter and a little detective work reveal her identity and her true situation in life.
I for Isobel, a modern-day Australian classic, was followed by Isobel on the Way to the Corner Shop, winner of the Age Book of the Year Award.
I for Isobel, a modern-day Australian classic, was followed by Isobel on the Way to the Corner Shop, winner of the Age Book of the Year Award.
158 pages, Paperback
First published May 1, 1989
23 people are currently reading
450 people want to read
About the author
Amy Witting
18 books13 followersJoan Austral Levick was born Joan Fraser in the Sydney suburb of Annandale in 1918. She studied at the University of Sydney and later taught French and English at state secondary schools. In 1948 she was transferred to Kempsey where she met Les Levick, a fellow teacher. They were married in December 1948. In 1953 Witting was diagnosed with TB after a routine school check, and it was while she was confined to the Bodington Sanitorium that she began to write more seriously. Witting has had numerous poems and short stories published in journals such as Quadrant and The New Yorker.
Witting was shortlisted for the Miles Franklin Award in 1990 for I for Isobel and again in 2000 for Isobel on the Way to the Corner Shop. In 1993 she was awarded the Patrick White Prize.
Amy Witting died a few weeks after her last novel was published in September 2001.
Witting was shortlisted for the Miles Franklin Award in 1990 for I for Isobel and again in 2000 for Isobel on the Way to the Corner Shop. In 1993 she was awarded the Patrick White Prize.
Amy Witting died a few weeks after her last novel was published in September 2001.
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December 31, 2022
Just another unhappy family, but this one has Isobel in it.
At the beginning of I for Isobel, we are introduced to a mistreated child living with a mostly-passive and nearly-invisible father, a favoured older sister who is usually indifferent to her, and a mother who is an out-of-control wreck of an abuser. That is an accurate character statement, but it doesn’t tell you much about who Isobel is as a person. And what makes this book work is entirely dependent upon the person of Isobel: dreamy outsider, devoted reader, and (eventually) aspiring writer.
There are lots of stories and lots of families like Isobel’s, in fiction and in the real world, and the most immediate (and reasonable) response to such a tale is to feel anger, sorrow, and pity for the child, and to see the child as a victim who must be saved. What makes Isobel captivating, though, is not her family role, as resident scapegoat and whipping girl, but how fully she rejects that role. Isobel embodies a strong sense of “I” as separate from everyone else, from the moment we meet her on page one. She is a full-fledged person in her own right, whose internal world is brimming with lively imagination and the wonder of being alive, but whose external one is shot through with petty malice and woe inflicted upon her by others.
Isobel is a self-possessed little girl, and much more individuated from her family than many adults ever manage to be. She does not see herself as a victim, or someone who will be forever ill-treated. Healthy children rarely do, of course, think of life or themselves in such bleak terms. Children are boundlessly hopeful, when given even the tiniest of things to look forward to.
What Isobel wants, when we first meet her, is a birthday present. She’s never had one. We realise before she will admit to herself that this year will be no different. But we quickly come to understand that her ability to believe in the possibility of the present is more important than the present itself ever could be. Also, with or without a present, it is still her special day, and no one can take that away from her.
I for Isobel, and today, she is nine.
Isobel is optimistic. She knows that one day, she will be grown up. She has a vision of her future opening out wide, a landscape filled with interesting experiences, that in time will leave the country of her hard-scrabble childhood far behind (metaphorically, if not actually). Isobel does not cling loyally to her abuser, as some children do, but neither does she run through the streets of her small Australian town screaming about her mother being a beast. Even if she did, who would care? It’s that kind of time, and that kind of town, where such matters are kept in the family. Also, her mother is not so depraved that she cuts, burns, or mutilates Isobel, so to a lot of people, her behaviour would not even register as abuse.
Isobel does see herself unfairly done by, but she views her mother as the one with the problem, not herself. This is crucial. She learns to be watchful and strategic about how she interacts with her mother, and this watchfulness stays with her, becoming ingrained into her character. She copes with being unloved and maligned — and sometimes physically assaulted — by holding tight to herself, and by seeking relationships with other people. When that goes wrong (as it often does), she turns to her friends in books. Her parents may ignore her birthday, and even forbid her to mention it to others, but that’s okay, because her friends Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson are happy to spend the day with her.
Isobel is filled with the unshakeable certainty that she is — or should be — able to control her own world. That what is required from her by Life is only that she learn to assess accurately what it is she needs to do, and then do that thing, not allowing herself to be swayed from her aims. At one point, she believes herself to be filled with the grace of the Holy Spirit after a brief but intense religious experience, but keeps this to herself. Her parents may not grant her gifts, but God has, so she clings to it tightly, seeing it as transformative and protective. She talks to the Virgin Mary, and this, too, gives her strength to withstand her mother’s incessant bullying and provocation — at least temporarily — until her anger finally snaps. She blames herself for weakening in her resolve. But religion is pretty much done for her after that.
In Rotter’s social-learning theory of psychology, Isobel would be called an “Internal” on the “Perceived Locus of Control” continuum — the other end of which would be people who believe that their lives are largely the result of chance (good or bad luck) and external circumstances. This type of worldview would never occur to Isobel. She feels that a good life and happy relationships must be a matter of practice and learning to say and do the right things, and that she must surely be capable of mastering this. (After all, that is how things go in books.) She goes on believing this well into her young adulthood.
Her “internalism” is one of the things that makes her a great protagonist. Isobel is plucky, funny, intelligent, and always on the outer edges of every social group. Nothing is easy and smooth for Isobel, and however well-read she may be, she is incapable of being a social chameleon. I is for Isobel and only Isobel, no one else. She does not blend anywhere. She is the consummate outsider, who wonders incessantly why that is the case, and then proceeds to work very hard to figure it out and make it better. Eventually, like many outsiders, she does learn why, and then chooses to remain on the periphery, rather than sell herself out by conforming to others’ expectations of her. This is her moment of empowerment, enlightenment, and salvation, all rolled into one. (I won’t tell you how it comes about, because that would spoil the fun).
R for Reader
This book is a reader’s love-fest. There are references, both straight and tongue-in-cheek, to novelists, poets, and playwrights, woven throughout the text. They figure not only in conversations between the characters, but also as more invisible friends in Isobel’s life, who remain truer, wiser, and more predictable than the real people who surround her. By this time, she has become a young woman, living in a boarding house in the city, working as a translator and typist at an Importers, and trying to form friendships. The group to which she most longs to belong is a tight set of university students, devoted to literature, and made up mostly of poets and critics. They take her in for a while, and Isobel learns for the first time that there are other people like her in the world: readers. She learns, too, that not everyone reads only because they love writers and words and characters in books, but because they create a society around the books they read. They wish to discuss the books, and some even want to write critical reviews. Since reading has always been a deeply private experience for Isobel, this strikes her as not only alien but impossible. Unbelievably, she is once again the outsider.
In this part of the book, there are entire scenes devoted to discussions of literature and word play, including one in which people are cast as parts of speech.
The book is only 158 pages long, and worth reading for that alone.
The Idiot in the Attic* vs. Young Adult Isobel
Amongst her work mates, her boarding house residents, and her social group of university students, Isobel is forever faltering, never sure if she’s doing and saying the right things, and self-admonishing all the way. While this could be tedious or sad — well, it is a bit sad — it is mostly very funny, because of the way she talks to herself. We are not meant to feel sorry for her, and she would resent us if we did. Also, she maintains her watchful stance towards others as well as herself, which keeps her from being destroyed by gullibility. She is no gullible ingénue, and when people try to get close to her to exploit her good will, she figures it out pretty quick. However, she has her vulnerable spots. When she realises that her controlling and bitter landlady has come to favour her over the other boarders, she takes herself to task for it. She recognises how she has invited this favouritism, that there is a child part of her that wants the approval of a mother-figure — however unsuitable — and that Child Isobel has been sneaking around and getting her way, while Adult Isobel has failed to notice.
W for Writer
The pleasure and dramatic tension in the rest of the book is in watching Isobel negotiate her way around the idiot, as well as around her real and unreal friends, in order to find her own meaning and place in the world. I recommend this book to anyone who loves readerly fiction, and also to anyone who loves the writing of Barbara Pym and Muriel Spark, as I do. There are points of style, wit, humour, and theme that bring to mind both of those authors, who are two of my favourites.
Amy Witting is not much read these days, I think. She was an Australian and a teacher, who lived from 1918-2001. I would bet she’d have been an excellent companion for an extended afternoon tea. I like to think she was Australia’s Pym or Spark. She’s that good.
* Note: In one of those strangely-synchronous life moments, the book I opened just after this one also included the term “idiot in the attic”. I’d never heard it before now. Apparently, in horror films, the idiot in the attic is the character who proceeds up the blood-soaked stairs, to corner the psychopath/monster in the attic, usually whilst said idiot is wearing only cut-off shorts and a pair of thongs, and armed with a flash-light with low batteries. (Something like that.) **
** Update to Note: It is the 3rd of February, 2017, and I am re-entering my old reviews on Goodreads, after having cleaned out all of my GR shelves to do a freshen-up. I am not bothering to re-read them all, obviously, but I read this note, and, as I did so, I looked down at myself. It is summer in Australia, and I happen to be wearing cut-off shorts and a pair of thongs. I am planning to avoid the attic but, just in case, the flash-light is in good working order.
At the beginning of I for Isobel, we are introduced to a mistreated child living with a mostly-passive and nearly-invisible father, a favoured older sister who is usually indifferent to her, and a mother who is an out-of-control wreck of an abuser. That is an accurate character statement, but it doesn’t tell you much about who Isobel is as a person. And what makes this book work is entirely dependent upon the person of Isobel: dreamy outsider, devoted reader, and (eventually) aspiring writer.
There are lots of stories and lots of families like Isobel’s, in fiction and in the real world, and the most immediate (and reasonable) response to such a tale is to feel anger, sorrow, and pity for the child, and to see the child as a victim who must be saved. What makes Isobel captivating, though, is not her family role, as resident scapegoat and whipping girl, but how fully she rejects that role. Isobel embodies a strong sense of “I” as separate from everyone else, from the moment we meet her on page one. She is a full-fledged person in her own right, whose internal world is brimming with lively imagination and the wonder of being alive, but whose external one is shot through with petty malice and woe inflicted upon her by others.
Isobel is a self-possessed little girl, and much more individuated from her family than many adults ever manage to be. She does not see herself as a victim, or someone who will be forever ill-treated. Healthy children rarely do, of course, think of life or themselves in such bleak terms. Children are boundlessly hopeful, when given even the tiniest of things to look forward to.
What Isobel wants, when we first meet her, is a birthday present. She’s never had one. We realise before she will admit to herself that this year will be no different. But we quickly come to understand that her ability to believe in the possibility of the present is more important than the present itself ever could be. Also, with or without a present, it is still her special day, and no one can take that away from her.
I for Isobel, and today, she is nine.
Isobel is optimistic. She knows that one day, she will be grown up. She has a vision of her future opening out wide, a landscape filled with interesting experiences, that in time will leave the country of her hard-scrabble childhood far behind (metaphorically, if not actually). Isobel does not cling loyally to her abuser, as some children do, but neither does she run through the streets of her small Australian town screaming about her mother being a beast. Even if she did, who would care? It’s that kind of time, and that kind of town, where such matters are kept in the family. Also, her mother is not so depraved that she cuts, burns, or mutilates Isobel, so to a lot of people, her behaviour would not even register as abuse.
Isobel does see herself unfairly done by, but she views her mother as the one with the problem, not herself. This is crucial. She learns to be watchful and strategic about how she interacts with her mother, and this watchfulness stays with her, becoming ingrained into her character. She copes with being unloved and maligned — and sometimes physically assaulted — by holding tight to herself, and by seeking relationships with other people. When that goes wrong (as it often does), she turns to her friends in books. Her parents may ignore her birthday, and even forbid her to mention it to others, but that’s okay, because her friends Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson are happy to spend the day with her.
Isobel is filled with the unshakeable certainty that she is — or should be — able to control her own world. That what is required from her by Life is only that she learn to assess accurately what it is she needs to do, and then do that thing, not allowing herself to be swayed from her aims. At one point, she believes herself to be filled with the grace of the Holy Spirit after a brief but intense religious experience, but keeps this to herself. Her parents may not grant her gifts, but God has, so she clings to it tightly, seeing it as transformative and protective. She talks to the Virgin Mary, and this, too, gives her strength to withstand her mother’s incessant bullying and provocation — at least temporarily — until her anger finally snaps. She blames herself for weakening in her resolve. But religion is pretty much done for her after that.
In Rotter’s social-learning theory of psychology, Isobel would be called an “Internal” on the “Perceived Locus of Control” continuum — the other end of which would be people who believe that their lives are largely the result of chance (good or bad luck) and external circumstances. This type of worldview would never occur to Isobel. She feels that a good life and happy relationships must be a matter of practice and learning to say and do the right things, and that she must surely be capable of mastering this. (After all, that is how things go in books.) She goes on believing this well into her young adulthood.
Her “internalism” is one of the things that makes her a great protagonist. Isobel is plucky, funny, intelligent, and always on the outer edges of every social group. Nothing is easy and smooth for Isobel, and however well-read she may be, she is incapable of being a social chameleon. I is for Isobel and only Isobel, no one else. She does not blend anywhere. She is the consummate outsider, who wonders incessantly why that is the case, and then proceeds to work very hard to figure it out and make it better. Eventually, like many outsiders, she does learn why, and then chooses to remain on the periphery, rather than sell herself out by conforming to others’ expectations of her. This is her moment of empowerment, enlightenment, and salvation, all rolled into one. (I won’t tell you how it comes about, because that would spoil the fun).
R for Reader
This book is a reader’s love-fest. There are references, both straight and tongue-in-cheek, to novelists, poets, and playwrights, woven throughout the text. They figure not only in conversations between the characters, but also as more invisible friends in Isobel’s life, who remain truer, wiser, and more predictable than the real people who surround her. By this time, she has become a young woman, living in a boarding house in the city, working as a translator and typist at an Importers, and trying to form friendships. The group to which she most longs to belong is a tight set of university students, devoted to literature, and made up mostly of poets and critics. They take her in for a while, and Isobel learns for the first time that there are other people like her in the world: readers. She learns, too, that not everyone reads only because they love writers and words and characters in books, but because they create a society around the books they read. They wish to discuss the books, and some even want to write critical reviews. Since reading has always been a deeply private experience for Isobel, this strikes her as not only alien but impossible. Unbelievably, she is once again the outsider.
In this part of the book, there are entire scenes devoted to discussions of literature and word play, including one in which people are cast as parts of speech.
If you were a part of speech, what part of speech would you be?’ …
‘I speak as a verb, a transitive verb. And Janet there is a conjunction, a co-ordinating conjunction.’ He turned to Vinnie. ‘And you, my pet, are an adjective, naturally … You adorn. You decorate’.
Isobel laughed too.
He looked at her kindly.
‘And what are you?’
She said in a small racked whisper, ‘I think I’m a preposition’.
‘Oh, do you govern?’
‘Only small common objects.’
Isobel said on a bubble of laughter, ‘My landlady’s a preposition. Against.”
‘You, Nick? You’re an adverb.’ He began to sing. ‘It ain’t what you do … It’s de way dat you do it …” He laughed loudly. ‘And Diana is a past participle.” (From pps. 82-83.)
The book is only 158 pages long, and worth reading for that alone.
The Idiot in the Attic* vs. Young Adult Isobel
Amongst her work mates, her boarding house residents, and her social group of university students, Isobel is forever faltering, never sure if she’s doing and saying the right things, and self-admonishing all the way. While this could be tedious or sad — well, it is a bit sad — it is mostly very funny, because of the way she talks to herself. We are not meant to feel sorry for her, and she would resent us if we did. Also, she maintains her watchful stance towards others as well as herself, which keeps her from being destroyed by gullibility. She is no gullible ingénue, and when people try to get close to her to exploit her good will, she figures it out pretty quick. However, she has her vulnerable spots. When she realises that her controlling and bitter landlady has come to favour her over the other boarders, she takes herself to task for it. She recognises how she has invited this favouritism, that there is a child part of her that wants the approval of a mother-figure — however unsuitable — and that Child Isobel has been sneaking around and getting her way, while Adult Isobel has failed to notice.
Any rag will make a doll for the idiot in the attic.
Auden had a general in his head. (‘But they’ve severed all the wires, and I don’t know what the general desires.’)
Isobel had an idiot in the attic …
Idiot wants a mother.
Idiot can’t have one.
Life is very difficult.
(From pps. 104-105.)
W for Writer
The pleasure and dramatic tension in the rest of the book is in watching Isobel negotiate her way around the idiot, as well as around her real and unreal friends, in order to find her own meaning and place in the world. I recommend this book to anyone who loves readerly fiction, and also to anyone who loves the writing of Barbara Pym and Muriel Spark, as I do. There are points of style, wit, humour, and theme that bring to mind both of those authors, who are two of my favourites.
Amy Witting is not much read these days, I think. She was an Australian and a teacher, who lived from 1918-2001. I would bet she’d have been an excellent companion for an extended afternoon tea. I like to think she was Australia’s Pym or Spark. She’s that good.
* Note: In one of those strangely-synchronous life moments, the book I opened just after this one also included the term “idiot in the attic”. I’d never heard it before now. Apparently, in horror films, the idiot in the attic is the character who proceeds up the blood-soaked stairs, to corner the psychopath/monster in the attic, usually whilst said idiot is wearing only cut-off shorts and a pair of thongs, and armed with a flash-light with low batteries. (Something like that.) **
** Update to Note: It is the 3rd of February, 2017, and I am re-entering my old reviews on Goodreads, after having cleaned out all of my GR shelves to do a freshen-up. I am not bothering to re-read them all, obviously, but I read this note, and, as I did so, I looked down at myself. It is summer in Australia, and I happen to be wearing cut-off shorts and a pair of thongs. I am planning to avoid the attic but, just in case, the flash-light is in good working order.
August 28, 2014
BOOK REVIEWED AS PART OF MY ONGOING QUEST TO READ ALL RECOMMENDED 2015 VCE TEXTS FOR VICTORIAN SCHOOLS (READ AT YOUR OWN PERIL) -
I for Isobel is a perfect example of being in the category of "just because it won an award, doesn't mean it's a good book". I've read the other reviews raving about this book, and while I agree that it may have been a ground-breaking work from an author who struggled against the tides of anti-feminism and corporate male greed, I cannot fathom WHY this book was placed on the VCE recommended texts to study in schools for 2015.
Firstly, I for Isobel is challenging - the writing, the style, the constant jumping from scene to scene, episode to episode, allegory to allegory, is so tiresome that the reader becomes disorientated with the underlying narrative. This is unsuitable for a majority of students, even those who may read several books each year. For students who don't read, forget it; I for Isobel will emit such a noxious scent that these students will forever be repelled against what good literature can actually offer.
This is but the beginning. Let's examine the VCE (VCAA) criteria for choosing texts to study.
Each text selected for the VCE English/EAL text list will:
• have literary merit and be worthy of close study
Check. It does have literary merit, for I am but one man and those masses who hail this book as an example of good literature cannot all be wrong - can they?
• be an excellent example of form and genre
Cross. The form is confusing, the genre - while new and controversial at its time of publication - is far surpassed by more ambitious - and better - novels.
• sustain intensive study, raising interesting issues and providing challenging ideas
Cross. As I mentioned above, I believe that students would find this book laborious and unworthy of a sustained intensive study. If anything, students would be turned off by having to annotate such a novel. While it does raise some interesting issues, Isobel is so docile, so domesticated in her thinking, that the ideas need to be pried out of the pages for the reader to actually realise the true meaning behind Isobel's quelled nature - SPOILERS: IT'S HER MOTHER AND RELIGION THAT DID IT.
• be appropriate for both male and female students
Double cross. How drab a novel for males to read. The issues of this novel are so archaic and lost in the language that they lose all relevance to any young student - even female students! There are so many better novels out there, waiting to be discovered, that deal with the very same issues found in I for Isobel - the difference being that these other novels are comprehensible and not a chore to read.
• be appropriate for the age and development of students and, in that context, reflect current community standards and expectations.
Do the people who choose these texts even read their own standards?
In conclusion, I'll say this. Congratulations, VCAA, for letting some stubborn old literary fuck choose this book, and by doing so, wasting a space on the 2015 list. So disappointing.
I for Isobel is a perfect example of being in the category of "just because it won an award, doesn't mean it's a good book". I've read the other reviews raving about this book, and while I agree that it may have been a ground-breaking work from an author who struggled against the tides of anti-feminism and corporate male greed, I cannot fathom WHY this book was placed on the VCE recommended texts to study in schools for 2015.
Firstly, I for Isobel is challenging - the writing, the style, the constant jumping from scene to scene, episode to episode, allegory to allegory, is so tiresome that the reader becomes disorientated with the underlying narrative. This is unsuitable for a majority of students, even those who may read several books each year. For students who don't read, forget it; I for Isobel will emit such a noxious scent that these students will forever be repelled against what good literature can actually offer.
This is but the beginning. Let's examine the VCE (VCAA) criteria for choosing texts to study.
Each text selected for the VCE English/EAL text list will:
• have literary merit and be worthy of close study
Check. It does have literary merit, for I am but one man and those masses who hail this book as an example of good literature cannot all be wrong - can they?
• be an excellent example of form and genre
Cross. The form is confusing, the genre - while new and controversial at its time of publication - is far surpassed by more ambitious - and better - novels.
• sustain intensive study, raising interesting issues and providing challenging ideas
Cross. As I mentioned above, I believe that students would find this book laborious and unworthy of a sustained intensive study. If anything, students would be turned off by having to annotate such a novel. While it does raise some interesting issues, Isobel is so docile, so domesticated in her thinking, that the ideas need to be pried out of the pages for the reader to actually realise the true meaning behind Isobel's quelled nature - SPOILERS: IT'S HER MOTHER AND RELIGION THAT DID IT.
• be appropriate for both male and female students
Double cross. How drab a novel for males to read. The issues of this novel are so archaic and lost in the language that they lose all relevance to any young student - even female students! There are so many better novels out there, waiting to be discovered, that deal with the very same issues found in I for Isobel - the difference being that these other novels are comprehensible and not a chore to read.
• be appropriate for the age and development of students and, in that context, reflect current community standards and expectations.
Do the people who choose these texts even read their own standards?
In conclusion, I'll say this. Congratulations, VCAA, for letting some stubborn old literary fuck choose this book, and by doing so, wasting a space on the 2015 list. So disappointing.
January 23, 2011
The story opens just before Isobel Callaghan’s ninth birthday, when she anticipates correctly that there will be no presents for her this year, just like all her other birthdays. Her mother is a monster: cold, hard, spiteful and jealous. Poor little Isobel grows up forever wanting to please but unable to work out how.
She takes solace in books, and too bad if the reader isn’t herself widely read – because there are countless perfectly apt allusions to works of literature great and small throughout the story. For those of us who grew up bookish in a bookish age, this is part of the joy of Witting’s writing, but I can see from the clumsy markings on the second-hand copy I foolishly bought without inspecting its innards that its previous owner, Kade M- took no such pleasure in reading it for school.
For the rest of my review please visit
http://anzlitlovers.wordpress.com/201...
She takes solace in books, and too bad if the reader isn’t herself widely read – because there are countless perfectly apt allusions to works of literature great and small throughout the story. For those of us who grew up bookish in a bookish age, this is part of the joy of Witting’s writing, but I can see from the clumsy markings on the second-hand copy I foolishly bought without inspecting its innards that its previous owner, Kade M- took no such pleasure in reading it for school.
For the rest of my review please visit
http://anzlitlovers.wordpress.com/201...
May 27, 2020
parliamo di “La lettrice testarda” di Amy Witting edito da Garzanti, un romanzo di formazione in cui la protagonista, Isobel, viene continuamente rimproverata dalla madre per ogni cosa. Non ci si può fidare di Isobel, non combina mai niente, è una bugiarda cronica e, ovviamente, non si merita nessun regalo di compleanno; solo nei libri Isobel riuscirà a trovare conforto dato che la sua esistenza sembra essere costantemente non gradita. Anni dopo non è più una bambina, andrà a vivere in città, inizierà un lavoro, scoprirà che c’è un mondo fuori dalle sue mura e imparerà a stringere amicizia.
Come avete capito la lettura non mi ha entusiasmata, il romanzo si divide in cinque capitoli, i primi tre dedicati alla protagonista a 9 anni sono i più belli secondo me; capiamo perfettamente quanto la sua vita sia frustrante, insoddisfacente, quanto l’odio della madre e l’indifferenza della sorella l’abbiamo plasmata facendola diventare antipatica e insofferente. Poi c’è un salto temporale con gli ultimi due capitoli, un salto inaspettato, non capiamo bene di quanto tempo sia passato, che cosa sia successo nel frattempo, fatto sta che ora Isobel è grande e sta per diventare anche indipendente, è preparata a questa nuova vita? No, ma deve farsi forza. Gli ultimi due capitoli li ho trovati piuttosto noiosi, lenti, prolissi, un lungo flusso di coscienza che, onestamente, non mi ha lasciato nulla. I dialoghi sono strani, ho anche pensato di essere diventata improvvisamente tonta e di avere qualche problema io, ma seriamente a volte non hanno ne capo ne coda.
Il finale però é bello, merita di essere letto, l’ho trovato addirittura poetico, insomma, è un romanzo con punti forti e punti deboli, ma la mia impressione è che questo libro voglia passare per qualcosa di leggero quando in realtà non lo è, il fatto che la protagonista sia lettrice, in realtà, conta poco.
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Come avete capito la lettura non mi ha entusiasmata, il romanzo si divide in cinque capitoli, i primi tre dedicati alla protagonista a 9 anni sono i più belli secondo me; capiamo perfettamente quanto la sua vita sia frustrante, insoddisfacente, quanto l’odio della madre e l’indifferenza della sorella l’abbiamo plasmata facendola diventare antipatica e insofferente. Poi c’è un salto temporale con gli ultimi due capitoli, un salto inaspettato, non capiamo bene di quanto tempo sia passato, che cosa sia successo nel frattempo, fatto sta che ora Isobel è grande e sta per diventare anche indipendente, è preparata a questa nuova vita? No, ma deve farsi forza. Gli ultimi due capitoli li ho trovati piuttosto noiosi, lenti, prolissi, un lungo flusso di coscienza che, onestamente, non mi ha lasciato nulla. I dialoghi sono strani, ho anche pensato di essere diventata improvvisamente tonta e di avere qualche problema io, ma seriamente a volte non hanno ne capo ne coda.
Il finale però é bello, merita di essere letto, l’ho trovato addirittura poetico, insomma, è un romanzo con punti forti e punti deboli, ma la mia impressione è che questo libro voglia passare per qualcosa di leggero quando in realtà non lo è, il fatto che la protagonista sia lettrice, in realtà, conta poco.
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December 20, 2014
Ok - interesting. I've always wanted to read this cause of its pedigree and accolades. I enjoyed the first chapter, the feistiness of Isobel and her determination to get the better of the horrible situation but the subsequent chapters were not as delightful. There were lots of puzzles - how did the parents die? How old was Isobel when she became an orphan? Did she keep in touch with her sister? Where did the money come from? Sometimes the conversations she had with people were dense (cafe conversations) or left in mid-air (Diana). The ending was nice and brought the book to a pleasant full circle. I'm unsure of how easy this would be to teach though, and another (albeit slight) sex scene has to rule this book out for my class of conservatives for 2015.
April 12, 2013
This is a beautiful book. Well-written from beginning to end. Harrowing but hopeful. It is not far into the book before we realise we are witnessing a tale of surviving child abuse at the hands of parents. My only difficulty was in later stages the stream of consciousness was a little too disjointed at times, although it clearly was meant to be.
November 12, 2021
«I regali non erano poi così importanti, se la vita offriva gratuitamente sorprese tanto mirabili e alla portata di tutti nei libri»
Questo libro è, potrei dire, particolare.
Scorre velocissimo, lo stile di scrittura dell'autrice è incalzante, accattivante, ed è arrivato al momento giusto, in cui non riuscivo a leggere molto. In alcuni punti quasi onirico e leggermente disattento, tanto che alcuni passaggi non li ho capiti del tutto (chi dice cosa, quando succede cosa ecc) perché stare nella testa di Isobel è così.
Tante parole, tanti sogni, tante situazioni, ma quali sono reali e quali non esistono?
Mi è piaciuta molto la distinzione in capitoli, sembra quasi che ogni parte sia una storia a sé.
Sono stata felice di vedere sparire dalla circolazione la madre, personaggio odioso, psicologicamente violento a mio parere e denigrante. Isobel non merita, così come non merita nessuno mai, tutta l'insensatezza che la circonda fin da bambina. Ho trovato in lei una incompletezza emotiva e caratteriale di fondo, colpa della sua storia familiare, che in certi momenti mi ha irritata molto, oltre che rattristata.
Nessuno che riesca a capirla a fondo e nessuno che riesca a vederla per quello che è davvero (lei compresa e quindi nemmeno noi lettori), uniti a una timidezza indotta dall'avere il terrore di sbagliare, l'hanno spinta a crearsi un muro attorno che non vedremo abbattersi mai.
Non posso dire di averla compresa appieno e mi spiace, ma da persona concreta riesco poco a mettermi nei panni di una sognatrice che è cresciuta aggiungendo traumi emotivi uno dopo l'altro alla lista: sono certa che abbia ancora molto da raccontare e forse, leggendolo in un altro momento, mi sarei sentita più affine alla nostra protagonista.
Questo libro mi ha lasciato sensazioni strane, incongrue e incomplete: mi è piaciuto e non mi è piaciuto, mi ha fatto riflettere e mi ha fatta scappare, mi ha lasciato l'amaro in bocca e mi ha dissetato.
Potrei cambiare parere tra qualche giorno, tra un mese o più.
È una storia intensa, da non affrontare con leggerezza. Credo che sia uno di quei libri che vada riletto per scoprirne sempre più strati nascosti.
Questo libro è, potrei dire, particolare.
Scorre velocissimo, lo stile di scrittura dell'autrice è incalzante, accattivante, ed è arrivato al momento giusto, in cui non riuscivo a leggere molto. In alcuni punti quasi onirico e leggermente disattento, tanto che alcuni passaggi non li ho capiti del tutto (chi dice cosa, quando succede cosa ecc) perché stare nella testa di Isobel è così.
Tante parole, tanti sogni, tante situazioni, ma quali sono reali e quali non esistono?
Mi è piaciuta molto la distinzione in capitoli, sembra quasi che ogni parte sia una storia a sé.
Sono stata felice di vedere sparire dalla circolazione la madre, personaggio odioso, psicologicamente violento a mio parere e denigrante. Isobel non merita, così come non merita nessuno mai, tutta l'insensatezza che la circonda fin da bambina. Ho trovato in lei una incompletezza emotiva e caratteriale di fondo, colpa della sua storia familiare, che in certi momenti mi ha irritata molto, oltre che rattristata.
Nessuno che riesca a capirla a fondo e nessuno che riesca a vederla per quello che è davvero (lei compresa e quindi nemmeno noi lettori), uniti a una timidezza indotta dall'avere il terrore di sbagliare, l'hanno spinta a crearsi un muro attorno che non vedremo abbattersi mai.
Non posso dire di averla compresa appieno e mi spiace, ma da persona concreta riesco poco a mettermi nei panni di una sognatrice che è cresciuta aggiungendo traumi emotivi uno dopo l'altro alla lista: sono certa che abbia ancora molto da raccontare e forse, leggendolo in un altro momento, mi sarei sentita più affine alla nostra protagonista.
Questo libro mi ha lasciato sensazioni strane, incongrue e incomplete: mi è piaciuto e non mi è piaciuto, mi ha fatto riflettere e mi ha fatta scappare, mi ha lasciato l'amaro in bocca e mi ha dissetato.
Potrei cambiare parere tra qualche giorno, tra un mese o più.
È una storia intensa, da non affrontare con leggerezza. Credo che sia uno di quei libri che vada riletto per scoprirne sempre più strati nascosti.
September 26, 2014
Obviously I am an idiot. I cannot understand the intentions of this novel. I for Isobel is a story about Isobel a girl who grew up with a not-really-there father, a horrible mother and an indifferent sister. Isobel eventually goes out into the world and discovers for herself.... I’m guessing as I have no idea if that is what happened and if she came to terms with herself.
The reason I bought this book is because we share the same name Isobel and although I could identify with Isobel’s character there were parts especially when she was older. Also the talk about literature and what kind of word would you be went over my head although I love to read, English was far from one of my favourite subjects.
I felt let down by the journey... as it didn’t seem to have one. I don’t need closure, she doesn’t have to be with the guy or the career but to me at least it didn’t seem like she figured out what she wanted from life or come to terms with the past.
The other problem I found is that the supporting characters often got left behind, her sister, her mother, father, aunts, co-workers, Helen, Trevor, Nick, Diana, and Housemates all got left behind and they were interesting characters. Some of the best parts were when Isobel was interacting with other people. I wanted to know what happened to these people but they had just gone....and now, so am I.
The reason I bought this book is because we share the same name Isobel and although I could identify with Isobel’s character there were parts especially when she was older. Also the talk about literature and what kind of word would you be went over my head although I love to read, English was far from one of my favourite subjects.
I felt let down by the journey... as it didn’t seem to have one. I don’t need closure, she doesn’t have to be with the guy or the career but to me at least it didn’t seem like she figured out what she wanted from life or come to terms with the past.
The other problem I found is that the supporting characters often got left behind, her sister, her mother, father, aunts, co-workers, Helen, Trevor, Nick, Diana, and Housemates all got left behind and they were interesting characters. Some of the best parts were when Isobel was interacting with other people. I wanted to know what happened to these people but they had just gone....and now, so am I.
August 24, 2016
‘I for Isobel’ and ‘Isobel on Her Way to the Corner Shop’ – the names suggest a series of slightly twee children’s books. Far from it.
If I have a criticism of ‘I for Isobel’ it is that the first chapter is so perfect that it almost makes the rest of the book redundant. It is like a short story that Katherine Mansfield might have left in her desk drawer, for being too painful – even in the 1980s it was considered unsuitable for publication by some. It tells us pretty much everything we need to know about Isobel, her tragically awful mother, and the slow growth of Isobel’s individuality – we can even guess that she is likely to become a writer.
The subsequent chapters develop these themes, often in wonderful ways – the chapter in which the young Catholic schoolgirl discovers the disadvantages of ‘finding grace’ is painfully hilarious – but after the first chapter they are more like ‘further episodes’ than an organic continuation. This is hardly a criticism of the book as a whole, which is wonderful and moving and beautifully written – I definitely wanted to know more about the difficult girl, Isobel – but I was occasionally reminded of certain musical albums where the first song is so good that the rest of the album can’t quite keep up…
If I have a criticism of ‘I for Isobel’ it is that the first chapter is so perfect that it almost makes the rest of the book redundant. It is like a short story that Katherine Mansfield might have left in her desk drawer, for being too painful – even in the 1980s it was considered unsuitable for publication by some. It tells us pretty much everything we need to know about Isobel, her tragically awful mother, and the slow growth of Isobel’s individuality – we can even guess that she is likely to become a writer.
The subsequent chapters develop these themes, often in wonderful ways – the chapter in which the young Catholic schoolgirl discovers the disadvantages of ‘finding grace’ is painfully hilarious – but after the first chapter they are more like ‘further episodes’ than an organic continuation. This is hardly a criticism of the book as a whole, which is wonderful and moving and beautifully written – I definitely wanted to know more about the difficult girl, Isobel – but I was occasionally reminded of certain musical albums where the first song is so good that the rest of the album can’t quite keep up…
June 10, 2021
“La lettrice testarda” un romanzo che purtroppo non mi è piaciuto per niente!
Non saprei spiegare nemmeno il motivo preciso, ma sinceramente non ho capito le situazioni e quello che provava la protagonista Isobel.
Non sono riuscita proprio a interpretarlo, Isobel
ha avuto un rapporto conflittuale con la madre, un rapporto che sicuramente ha poi influito sulla sua vita e nei rapporti con gli altri. L’unica salvezza i libri e il sogno di diventare scrittrice, ma anche questi aspetti secondo me non sono esposti chiaramente.
Comunque un libro di 167 pagine che ho sentito come mille, pesanti e per niente scorrevoli.
C’è solo stato un passaggio che forse mi è piaciuto e piccole cose sparse nel libro.
Assegno 2 ⭐️⭐️/5, è la prima volta che esprimo un parere così duro, tutti i libri nel bene e nel “male” mi hanno lasciato qualcosa, e sono riuscita a simpatizzare con personaggi e situazioni, qui non ci sono proprio riuscita.
Non saprei spiegare nemmeno il motivo preciso, ma sinceramente non ho capito le situazioni e quello che provava la protagonista Isobel.
Non sono riuscita proprio a interpretarlo, Isobel
ha avuto un rapporto conflittuale con la madre, un rapporto che sicuramente ha poi influito sulla sua vita e nei rapporti con gli altri. L’unica salvezza i libri e il sogno di diventare scrittrice, ma anche questi aspetti secondo me non sono esposti chiaramente.
Comunque un libro di 167 pagine che ho sentito come mille, pesanti e per niente scorrevoli.
C’è solo stato un passaggio che forse mi è piaciuto e piccole cose sparse nel libro.
Assegno 2 ⭐️⭐️/5, è la prima volta che esprimo un parere così duro, tutti i libri nel bene e nel “male” mi hanno lasciato qualcosa, e sono riuscita a simpatizzare con personaggi e situazioni, qui non ci sono proprio riuscita.
March 9, 2021
"Il letto era il suo regno; arrivarci al termine della giornata era sempre un conforto.."
January 30, 2020
"Am I good enough? Yes I am." This is the constant refrain Michelle Obama posited in her recent autobiography, Becoming. These words resonate when reading Amy Witting's, I for Isobel, first published in 1989. I read the version published by Text Classics in 2014 with an introduction by Charlotte Wood.
How to begin describing this book? Many reviewers have talked about the deceptively juvenile or "beginner reader" sounding title of the book. It certainly is a broad hint at the subject matter. Isobel is our heroine and the I, or examined self, is paramount in this story.
I was going to call this a coming of age story. And then I saw another reader had called it a bildungsroman which I had to go and look up on Google. Ignorance is not bliss for this little black duck. Having read the Wikipedia article, I now think Kunstlerroman is a more accurate description i.e the development of an artist.
Isobel labours as a child to navigate her way through a complex, some may say tortuous, relationship with her mother. As the psychologist says, let's remember our parents were children once too and wonder what happened to poor Isobel's mother to make her the way she was, dear children. Isobel (and her mother one suspects) longs for love, to be good, to be accepted, to fit in. A Catholic education offers heavenly intercession which works for a short while but Isobel always feels an imposter. Her true awkward self blurts out when she's in society; there are many occasions when she doesn't recognise the voice that comes out of her mouth. No don't worry, she's not schizophrenic; she's just a bit of a loner. She is most at ease when reading or escaping into the world of her imagination. At one point in the novel, she hugs a book to her chest to get her through a difficult day, warding off evil and giving her the confidence she needs. We chart Isobel's course through adolescence and finally adulthood as she discovers her tribe to a degree, or, if not her tribe, at least her calling and the joy of being comfortable in her own skin.
I was intrigued by this reasonably slim volume at 181 pages and surprised how long it took me to read it. I would like to read it again but I need a sustained period of uninterrupted leisure to do so and I would want to be sure of a group of fellow readers to explore certain passages. So yes, maybe a good book club read.
There were some passages in the book which I just did not understand and found quite frustrating. The style of writing is at times so introspective that I think, unless you were Isobel, you could not really understand what was going on. I did enjoy recognising parts of my own youthful experience growing up in Sydney suburbs, such as Glebe.
So who would enjoy the book? Writers. Would-be writers. Readers. Anyone who loves books, reflection, pondering on the meaning of life and psychology.
This is a book about bad mothers, boarding houses, Catholicism, poetry, self. Give it a burl and let me know your thoughts.
How to begin describing this book? Many reviewers have talked about the deceptively juvenile or "beginner reader" sounding title of the book. It certainly is a broad hint at the subject matter. Isobel is our heroine and the I, or examined self, is paramount in this story.
I was going to call this a coming of age story. And then I saw another reader had called it a bildungsroman which I had to go and look up on Google. Ignorance is not bliss for this little black duck. Having read the Wikipedia article, I now think Kunstlerroman is a more accurate description i.e the development of an artist.
Isobel labours as a child to navigate her way through a complex, some may say tortuous, relationship with her mother. As the psychologist says, let's remember our parents were children once too and wonder what happened to poor Isobel's mother to make her the way she was, dear children. Isobel (and her mother one suspects) longs for love, to be good, to be accepted, to fit in. A Catholic education offers heavenly intercession which works for a short while but Isobel always feels an imposter. Her true awkward self blurts out when she's in society; there are many occasions when she doesn't recognise the voice that comes out of her mouth. No don't worry, she's not schizophrenic; she's just a bit of a loner. She is most at ease when reading or escaping into the world of her imagination. At one point in the novel, she hugs a book to her chest to get her through a difficult day, warding off evil and giving her the confidence she needs. We chart Isobel's course through adolescence and finally adulthood as she discovers her tribe to a degree, or, if not her tribe, at least her calling and the joy of being comfortable in her own skin.
I was intrigued by this reasonably slim volume at 181 pages and surprised how long it took me to read it. I would like to read it again but I need a sustained period of uninterrupted leisure to do so and I would want to be sure of a group of fellow readers to explore certain passages. So yes, maybe a good book club read.
There were some passages in the book which I just did not understand and found quite frustrating. The style of writing is at times so introspective that I think, unless you were Isobel, you could not really understand what was going on. I did enjoy recognising parts of my own youthful experience growing up in Sydney suburbs, such as Glebe.
So who would enjoy the book? Writers. Would-be writers. Readers. Anyone who loves books, reflection, pondering on the meaning of life and psychology.
This is a book about bad mothers, boarding houses, Catholicism, poetry, self. Give it a burl and let me know your thoughts.
June 22, 2017
I am deeply offended that nobody forced me to read this book earlier in my life. How dare they. It is SO brilliant. The female characters are so real and gorgeously written. Could not have loved it more.
December 10, 2018
We follow Isobel from when she is about to turn nine until she is nineteen. There is an awful repressive childhood that she shines through because her spirit is repressed but not destroyed. And she has the salvation of books. But she makes such an effort to behave in a way that doesn't draw attention. And there are lies that she can't help because her imagination keeps running away with her.
When her parents die she moves into a boarding house - this seems like 1950s Sydney - and her life begins to expand. There is office work and minor socialising in the boarding house and always Isobel studies how to do 'right behaviour'. She mustn't stay in her room and read which she desperately wants to do. That is not right behaviour. When she starts work she needs to manage the petty cash. Any deficiency would be taken from her week's salary.
'Do I take anything that's over?'
Everything came to pieces.
She had meant it as a kind of grace, so that he could say laughing 'there's never anything left over' and she could say 'I hope there's never any deficiency either.'
Instead, there he was, staring and stumbling in real misery while she was left holding her unwanted joke.'
I loved her and hoped she would find people who loved her too.
In the boarding house there is Mrs Prendergast who is:
'an admirer of death, entranced by its ceremonies, awed by its sudden captures, marvelling at its rare defeats '
I'm sure I know her.
Then in a coffee shop she comes across some students with smart conversations who know about books and talk about them with wit and humour. She fits in perfectly. Her normal behaviour is right behaviour with them.
Less than a year after she left home she returns to her old neighbourhood and is horrified to come across Mrs Adams. When she was a child she committed the awful offence of putting Mrs Adams' name in a newspaper. She had written a poem at school when she was nine which won a prize and it was published in a local paper.
Mrs Adams lives three doors from me.
She has a cat. Smoke is his name.
He curls around the corner silently.
When he jumps, his name should be Flame.'
Isobel has suffered years of humiliation and punishment from her mother for those lines. Mrs Adams invites the nineteen year old Isobel in for a cup of tea and shows her the poem in a photo album and tells her how she loved it and regarded Isobel as a budding writer and bought her a book to put her poems in but her mother had refused to take the gift.
Isobel leaves Mrs Adams with 'proper behaviour' but when she is alone she sobs uncontrollably. I almost sobbed with her. We end with Isobel buying an exercise book in her first step to becoming a writer.
I loved this book.
'And speaking of books . . . My Book of Picture Stamps of the World - India: The Taj Mahal; Peru (Cuzco): The Ancient Temple of the Sun; A Peasant of the Pyrenees . . . It was out of those sober little stamps that the great wheeling vision of the world had come. How strange, a joy you cellared when you were maybe ten years old coming up so drinkable at nineteen.'
When her parents die she moves into a boarding house - this seems like 1950s Sydney - and her life begins to expand. There is office work and minor socialising in the boarding house and always Isobel studies how to do 'right behaviour'. She mustn't stay in her room and read which she desperately wants to do. That is not right behaviour. When she starts work she needs to manage the petty cash. Any deficiency would be taken from her week's salary.
'Do I take anything that's over?'
Everything came to pieces.
She had meant it as a kind of grace, so that he could say laughing 'there's never anything left over' and she could say 'I hope there's never any deficiency either.'
Instead, there he was, staring and stumbling in real misery while she was left holding her unwanted joke.'
I loved her and hoped she would find people who loved her too.
In the boarding house there is Mrs Prendergast who is:
'an admirer of death, entranced by its ceremonies, awed by its sudden captures, marvelling at its rare defeats '
I'm sure I know her.
Then in a coffee shop she comes across some students with smart conversations who know about books and talk about them with wit and humour. She fits in perfectly. Her normal behaviour is right behaviour with them.
Less than a year after she left home she returns to her old neighbourhood and is horrified to come across Mrs Adams. When she was a child she committed the awful offence of putting Mrs Adams' name in a newspaper. She had written a poem at school when she was nine which won a prize and it was published in a local paper.
Mrs Adams lives three doors from me.
She has a cat. Smoke is his name.
He curls around the corner silently.
When he jumps, his name should be Flame.'
Isobel has suffered years of humiliation and punishment from her mother for those lines. Mrs Adams invites the nineteen year old Isobel in for a cup of tea and shows her the poem in a photo album and tells her how she loved it and regarded Isobel as a budding writer and bought her a book to put her poems in but her mother had refused to take the gift.
Isobel leaves Mrs Adams with 'proper behaviour' but when she is alone she sobs uncontrollably. I almost sobbed with her. We end with Isobel buying an exercise book in her first step to becoming a writer.
I loved this book.
'And speaking of books . . . My Book of Picture Stamps of the World - India: The Taj Mahal; Peru (Cuzco): The Ancient Temple of the Sun; A Peasant of the Pyrenees . . . It was out of those sober little stamps that the great wheeling vision of the world had come. How strange, a joy you cellared when you were maybe ten years old coming up so drinkable at nineteen.'
April 15, 2009
If Body and Soul is a book about the experience of being a musician, I for Isobel, I imagine, is an apt description of the experience of being a writer.
I thought the writing was beautiful, and enjoyed the novelty of reading something from an author who is considered one of Australia's great writers. And of course, I enjoyed seeing the unusual spelling of my daughter's name in print. :)
Really, my only complaint is that it's too short! Isobel was such an interesting, sympathetic, beautiful character; I wanted more of her. Apparently there is a subsequent work, Isobel on the Way to the Corner Shop, but I might have some trouble getting a hold of it since it seems to only be in print in Australia.
Here are a few excerpts:
"To turn oneself into a weapon, to throw oneself like a stone or a rotten tomato, to be so lost - Isobel felt a keen thrill at the thought of it."
"Isobel's face is expressionless. Nobody else knows what that word means; it is not being calm like marble, but naked, skinless. It is a disgusting failure of privacy, like an exposed liver."
I thought the writing was beautiful, and enjoyed the novelty of reading something from an author who is considered one of Australia's great writers. And of course, I enjoyed seeing the unusual spelling of my daughter's name in print. :)
Really, my only complaint is that it's too short! Isobel was such an interesting, sympathetic, beautiful character; I wanted more of her. Apparently there is a subsequent work, Isobel on the Way to the Corner Shop, but I might have some trouble getting a hold of it since it seems to only be in print in Australia.
Here are a few excerpts:
"To turn oneself into a weapon, to throw oneself like a stone or a rotten tomato, to be so lost - Isobel felt a keen thrill at the thought of it."
"Isobel's face is expressionless. Nobody else knows what that word means; it is not being calm like marble, but naked, skinless. It is a disgusting failure of privacy, like an exposed liver."
May 17, 2021
Questo romanzo mi ha spiazzata: verso metà cambia stile, al punto che mi sono chiesta se non fossero due storie diverse quelle raccontate.
Ho dovuto leggere l'introduzione (io la leggo sempre alla fine) e poi rileggere l'ultimo capitolo. Fatto questo passaggio, posso dire che è una lettura che ho apprezzato molto sebbene mi aspettassi una storia molto più leggera e solare... sarò stata fuoriviata dalla copertina?!🤔
La prima parte racconta il rapporto complesso, tormentato e disturbante tra Isobel e la madre; la seconda, invece, i suoi primi passi come giovanissima donna indipendente, che fatica a farsi strada e a trovare un posto nel mondo (un posto confortevole possibilmente!).
È un romanzo il cui focus è il ruolo della donna e la sua possibilità di emanciparsi e di avere un ruolo e una vita al di fuori del contesto familiare, ma è anche un libro in cui la violenza psicologica la fa da padrona. Solo elaborando il passato e il suo impatto è possibile per la protagonista darsi una nuova chance di vita.
Ho dovuto leggere l'introduzione (io la leggo sempre alla fine) e poi rileggere l'ultimo capitolo. Fatto questo passaggio, posso dire che è una lettura che ho apprezzato molto sebbene mi aspettassi una storia molto più leggera e solare... sarò stata fuoriviata dalla copertina?!🤔
La prima parte racconta il rapporto complesso, tormentato e disturbante tra Isobel e la madre; la seconda, invece, i suoi primi passi come giovanissima donna indipendente, che fatica a farsi strada e a trovare un posto nel mondo (un posto confortevole possibilmente!).
È un romanzo il cui focus è il ruolo della donna e la sua possibilità di emanciparsi e di avere un ruolo e una vita al di fuori del contesto familiare, ma è anche un libro in cui la violenza psicologica la fa da padrona. Solo elaborando il passato e il suo impatto è possibile per la protagonista darsi una nuova chance di vita.
July 30, 2020
Il primo capitolo bello, molto carino. Il resto del libro sembra scritto da un'altra persona.
Non sono riuscita ad apprezzarlo e questo mi dispiace perché avevo letto recensioni molto positive su questo libro.
Però è molto confusionario, un flusso di coscienza in cui non si distingue l'argomento principale, cosa viene prima cosa dopo. Spiega certe cose in modo molto "astratto", lontano dal lettore ma molte altre spiegazioni le omette, diventa difficile seguire la trama per queste ragioni.
A giudicare dalla quarta di copertina avevo immaginato che l'argomento principale del libro fosse l'importanza della lettura nella vita di questa giovane la quale aveva vissuto un'infanzia triste e angosciante, ma quello che ho percepito io sono più che altro le fisime che Isobel si faceva per qualsiasi cosa, evento, frase (sentita o detta), presunta opinione della gente eccetera...
L'ho trovata una lettura stressante.
Non sono riuscita ad apprezzarlo e questo mi dispiace perché avevo letto recensioni molto positive su questo libro.
Però è molto confusionario, un flusso di coscienza in cui non si distingue l'argomento principale, cosa viene prima cosa dopo. Spiega certe cose in modo molto "astratto", lontano dal lettore ma molte altre spiegazioni le omette, diventa difficile seguire la trama per queste ragioni.
A giudicare dalla quarta di copertina avevo immaginato che l'argomento principale del libro fosse l'importanza della lettura nella vita di questa giovane la quale aveva vissuto un'infanzia triste e angosciante, ma quello che ho percepito io sono più che altro le fisime che Isobel si faceva per qualsiasi cosa, evento, frase (sentita o detta), presunta opinione della gente eccetera...
L'ho trovata una lettura stressante.
August 25, 2021
Ero molto incuriosita da questo libro: le premesse mi avevano letteralmente conquistata e mi chiedevo come così poche pagine potessero contenere una storia che aveva tutte le caratteristiche di un interessante e profondo dramma psicologico.
La storia racconta di Isobel, dei suoi anni come figlia e di quelli come giovane adulta in una nuova città. La sua psicologia è raccontata nel dettaglio, esponendo pensieri delicati, scomodi, di cui lei stessa prova vergogna, complessi, non sempre di facile comprensione o coerenti col personaggi che si era immaginato - ma chi è coerente, di noi, alla fine?
È una piacevolissima lettura. È difficile stare al mondo quando mancano le radici, quando i traumi del passato e le convinzioni che ci si è costruiti su noi stessi, anche grazie a quei traumi, ci seguono ovunque.
Questo libro parla di un ritorno a se stessi, ed è sempre bello leggere che, nonostante la complessità del nostro cuore, c’è sempre una strada, nell’anima, che conduca a casa.
La storia racconta di Isobel, dei suoi anni come figlia e di quelli come giovane adulta in una nuova città. La sua psicologia è raccontata nel dettaglio, esponendo pensieri delicati, scomodi, di cui lei stessa prova vergogna, complessi, non sempre di facile comprensione o coerenti col personaggi che si era immaginato - ma chi è coerente, di noi, alla fine?
È una piacevolissima lettura. È difficile stare al mondo quando mancano le radici, quando i traumi del passato e le convinzioni che ci si è costruiti su noi stessi, anche grazie a quei traumi, ci seguono ovunque.
Questo libro parla di un ritorno a se stessi, ed è sempre bello leggere che, nonostante la complessità del nostro cuore, c’è sempre una strada, nell’anima, che conduca a casa.
March 8, 2014
Unusual, but intriguing. The story of the loneliness and marginalisation of a young girl called Isobel is mercifully short because it's quite intense. It's one of those novels where major events go unexplained, but at the same time add to the context of the story. I enjoyed it, but because I prefer a story that has well developed characters, an evolving plot and a climax, it wasn't really to my liking. In this book, the only character with any substance is Isobel, with all those who have contributing to her life revolving around her in "bit" pieces, even though their role in shaping Isobel is profound. You either like these "too smart" books or you don't. I'm glad I read it though and appreciated its quality sufficiently to justify my rating.
August 21, 2017
Ergh. Boring.
August 13, 2021
I read it so you don’t have to. Seriously, don’t. Save an afternoon and don’t read this.
February 16, 2020
I found this book in suburban library bargain bin. So glad I did! I loved it; it is what I expected I would get out of Patrick White, I think, but much shorter. Isobel is believable, and so relatable for me, but it also gives a good flavour of a Sydney that isn't there any more, so it made me think of my own work trying to write about a lost Melbourne community in the inner suburbs.
January 9, 2021
Pesantissimo, noiosissimo, odiatissimo, bocciatissimo. Il primo libro in vita mia che ho ponderato di abbandonare.
August 10, 2020
La maggior parte delle volte, reputo importante come è stato scritto quel romanzo o quell’opera e l’approssimarsi di vicende che potrebbero rendere una trama scialba, quasi inconsistente, avvincente e originale. Non mi sorprendo quando, fra gli scaffali della mia libreria, tocco le costine di romanzi che mi hanno letteralmente squarciato l’anima, non solo per il suo contenuto ma anche per il modo che hanno avuto di raccontarsi. Mi sono però sorpresa, quando giunsi fra le pagine del romanzo di Amy Witting, che si trattasse di una storia che non facesse parte di questa categoria. E mi sono stupita ancor di più di scovare assolutamente nulla. L’amore per i libri, per la letteratura, era stato evocato con superficialità, parsimonia ma piattume, cinico e freddo come la lettura di un brevissimo racconto, utile a riempire i postumi della noia. Devo dire però che non ne fui particolarmente impressionata. Era evidente che la Witting avesse tenuto stretto qualcosa di sfuggente, impalpabile, ed i suoi romanzi ne furono un chiaro esempio.
Mi approcciai a La lettrice testarda con la consapevolezza che le sue pagine avrebbero dovuto misurare l’anima di una ragazzina che come una penitente cammina sulla riva dell’assurdo. L’unica ancora di salvezza erano i libri, e per me sembrava la cosa più bella dell’intero romanzo. Ci sono stati però diversi fattori, che hanno dato su finestre esistenziali nel quale i movimenti positivi, la veridicità di certi e rari momenti benefici avrebbero dovuto stimolarla purchè io la comprendessi. Sulla mia personalissima agenda avevo preso nota di ciò che considero i suoi difetti e i suoi pregi, ma a distanza di qualche giorno della sua lettura comprendo come La lettrice testarda non è una lettura malvagia ma semplicemente un opera che ha rievocato perfettamente il XIX secolo, ma in cui la forte esigenza di scovare un certo tipo di libertà non avuta dall’infanzia cozza con il desiderio insopprimibile di mettere nero su bianco qualunque modo per attingere alla realtà. Non sporgendosi, dunque, più di tanto, incurante degli effetti che avrebbe sortito. A posteriori, negativi. Situazioni dagli effetti devastanti ma intoccabili in cui i libri avrebbero dovuto fungere da crescita personale.
Ho valutato l’ipotesi di alzarmi dalla mia poltrona preferita e andare in un altro posto, in un altro luogo, ma poi mi resi conto che ad una lettura cinica, avvolta in una corazza di moralismo, riserbo, sacrificio, vani tentativi di sopravvivenza avrei potuto scontare quel piccolo flagello di trascinarmi fino alla fine. Qualunque tarlo tartassasse la mia coscienza, in cui la grazia, la bontà divina avrebbero dovuto redimere dal peccato. L’eterna luce del sole che non ha clima ne stagioni e che per raggiungerla bisogna scacciare qualunque impurità.
La distanza fra il mio mondo e quello dipinto dall’autrice, portarono la mia coscienza a non poter sfiorare paurosamente la frenesia, l’impazienza. Il mio fiuto aveva avvertito il sensore di qualcosa di tremendamente noioso, poco asettico e poco appassionante, in cui il tutto si svolse all’insegna di conflitti interiori che avrebbero potuto concedere una bella introspezione psicologica, un ritratto realistico del secolo, la realizzazione di una bolla in cui ci si sente protetti affinchè la vita cambi le sorti.
La letteratura, la scrittura, l’arte imprescindibile delle parole battute a macchina mi hanno condotto in un luogo che si è scontrato col mio, insufficiente persino ad incuriosirmi, opprimermi dalla certezza del nulla. Nell’incessante lotta fra il Bene e il Male, fra figure evanescenti ma impalpabili e inavvicinabili che non riescono ad evitare nemmeno le persone più fredde, quelle generalmente tranquille e ricche.
La lettrice testarda, il titolo << testarda >> come riferimento puro e casuale alla forza e al vigore che Isobel riserba alla parola scritta, è un romanzo particolare che non mi ha emozionato ne entusiasmato come credevo. Nonostante la sua forza risiede nell’efficacia di aver richiamato il passato, in un contesto storico attualissimo, modernissimo, in cui l’ambiente circostante riflette ben o male il senso morale dei protagonisti, il loro stato d’animo o il loro stare nel mondo, è un opera che non implode nella sua magnificenza, nemmeno nell’amore che si riserva per la lettura. In una sequela di situazioni in cui la scrittura è il punto focale dentro al quale si muovono le cose, si riversano elementi o forme di innumerevole ribellione che esprimono condizioni di disagio e di apprensione.
Mi approcciai a La lettrice testarda con la consapevolezza che le sue pagine avrebbero dovuto misurare l’anima di una ragazzina che come una penitente cammina sulla riva dell’assurdo. L’unica ancora di salvezza erano i libri, e per me sembrava la cosa più bella dell’intero romanzo. Ci sono stati però diversi fattori, che hanno dato su finestre esistenziali nel quale i movimenti positivi, la veridicità di certi e rari momenti benefici avrebbero dovuto stimolarla purchè io la comprendessi. Sulla mia personalissima agenda avevo preso nota di ciò che considero i suoi difetti e i suoi pregi, ma a distanza di qualche giorno della sua lettura comprendo come La lettrice testarda non è una lettura malvagia ma semplicemente un opera che ha rievocato perfettamente il XIX secolo, ma in cui la forte esigenza di scovare un certo tipo di libertà non avuta dall’infanzia cozza con il desiderio insopprimibile di mettere nero su bianco qualunque modo per attingere alla realtà. Non sporgendosi, dunque, più di tanto, incurante degli effetti che avrebbe sortito. A posteriori, negativi. Situazioni dagli effetti devastanti ma intoccabili in cui i libri avrebbero dovuto fungere da crescita personale.
Ho valutato l’ipotesi di alzarmi dalla mia poltrona preferita e andare in un altro posto, in un altro luogo, ma poi mi resi conto che ad una lettura cinica, avvolta in una corazza di moralismo, riserbo, sacrificio, vani tentativi di sopravvivenza avrei potuto scontare quel piccolo flagello di trascinarmi fino alla fine. Qualunque tarlo tartassasse la mia coscienza, in cui la grazia, la bontà divina avrebbero dovuto redimere dal peccato. L’eterna luce del sole che non ha clima ne stagioni e che per raggiungerla bisogna scacciare qualunque impurità.
La distanza fra il mio mondo e quello dipinto dall’autrice, portarono la mia coscienza a non poter sfiorare paurosamente la frenesia, l’impazienza. Il mio fiuto aveva avvertito il sensore di qualcosa di tremendamente noioso, poco asettico e poco appassionante, in cui il tutto si svolse all’insegna di conflitti interiori che avrebbero potuto concedere una bella introspezione psicologica, un ritratto realistico del secolo, la realizzazione di una bolla in cui ci si sente protetti affinchè la vita cambi le sorti.
La letteratura, la scrittura, l’arte imprescindibile delle parole battute a macchina mi hanno condotto in un luogo che si è scontrato col mio, insufficiente persino ad incuriosirmi, opprimermi dalla certezza del nulla. Nell’incessante lotta fra il Bene e il Male, fra figure evanescenti ma impalpabili e inavvicinabili che non riescono ad evitare nemmeno le persone più fredde, quelle generalmente tranquille e ricche.
La lettrice testarda, il titolo << testarda >> come riferimento puro e casuale alla forza e al vigore che Isobel riserba alla parola scritta, è un romanzo particolare che non mi ha emozionato ne entusiasmato come credevo. Nonostante la sua forza risiede nell’efficacia di aver richiamato il passato, in un contesto storico attualissimo, modernissimo, in cui l’ambiente circostante riflette ben o male il senso morale dei protagonisti, il loro stato d’animo o il loro stare nel mondo, è un opera che non implode nella sua magnificenza, nemmeno nell’amore che si riserva per la lettura. In una sequela di situazioni in cui la scrittura è il punto focale dentro al quale si muovono le cose, si riversano elementi o forme di innumerevole ribellione che esprimono condizioni di disagio e di apprensione.
September 18, 2020
I for Isobel, titolo originale dell'opera pubblicata per la prima volta nel 1989 e recentemente riedita da Garzanti, è forse il romanzo ( primo di due) più famoso- ma allo stesso tempo così poco conosciuto e dibattuto- della scrittrice australiana Amy Witting.
La Lettrice Testarda ci racconta di Isobel e della sua crescita in un ambiente familiare tossico. Isobel, che non ha mai ricevuto regali per il suo compleanno, sembra rappresentare per sua madre la fonte e la causa di ogni male esistente al mondo; il capro espiatorio per ogni crimine mai commesso dall'umanità. Quando Isobel inventa un modo per far sapere ai suoi amici del suo compleanno- cosa che le era vietata- viene duramente punita da sua madre per " averle recato l'ennesima umiliazione, per aver mendicato regali". Isobel però ha il suo mondo, il mondo dove nessuno viene sgridato il giorno del suo compleanno, il mondo il cui indirizzo è 221B, Scotland Yard. Isobel vive delle avventure di Sherlock Holmes tanto da arrivare a fantasticare di ricevere, un giorno, tutti i libri di Doyle.
Lentamente, la protagonista capisce anche che i suoi problemi non costituiscono una mole immensa come quelli di sua madre, alla quale impara così a negare la soddisfazione della sua rabbia.
Nel quarto capitolo del libro, siamo catapultati a quasi un decennio dopo i primi avvenimenti della storia e facciamo i conti con una Isobel matura, sempre innamorata dei suoi libri e delle sue storie ( in questo periodo sembra avere una predilezione per Lord Byron) e finalmente avviene la svolta: Isobel incontra persone come lei; lettori voraci con un amore per sofisticati romanzi e poesie.
Isobel sembra finalmente aver trovato il suo posto nel mondo, sembra finalmente aver messo a tacere quella voce nella testa che corre più veloce del tempo, che sputa parole e pensieri in un turbinio potente e travolgente. E poi la realizzazione finale con cui si conclude il libro… Spoilers!
La prosa magistrale e i l'iper realismo di questo romanzo scritto in terza persona e vissuto quasi del tutto attraverso il flusso costante di pensieri, a volte anche sconnessi di Isobel, spingono il lettore a pensare che si tratti di un romanzo autobiografico, cosa non del tutto errata tra l'altro. Nonostante questo romanzo sia colmo di ironia e autoironia, resta un romanzo di crescita doloroso e dai tratti agrodolci.
Un romanzo femminista che vuole raccontare della conquista della consapevolezza di se e del controllo della proprie e scelte.
Personalmente, ho finito questo romanzo in poche ore e l'ho trovato delizioso ma allo stesso tempo tanto,forse troppo doloroso. Un indagine familiare e di se straziante, con un finale che mi ha commossa a tal punto da lasciarmi a fissare il vuoto per un po'.
Consiglio questo romanzo a tutte quelle donne alla ricerca del loro posto nel mondo, alle outsiders, a quelle che si sentono sbagliate, a quelle che non hanno ancora capito di essere perfette e di quanto potenziale inesplorato giace in loro.
La Lettrice Testarda ci racconta di Isobel e della sua crescita in un ambiente familiare tossico. Isobel, che non ha mai ricevuto regali per il suo compleanno, sembra rappresentare per sua madre la fonte e la causa di ogni male esistente al mondo; il capro espiatorio per ogni crimine mai commesso dall'umanità. Quando Isobel inventa un modo per far sapere ai suoi amici del suo compleanno- cosa che le era vietata- viene duramente punita da sua madre per " averle recato l'ennesima umiliazione, per aver mendicato regali". Isobel però ha il suo mondo, il mondo dove nessuno viene sgridato il giorno del suo compleanno, il mondo il cui indirizzo è 221B, Scotland Yard. Isobel vive delle avventure di Sherlock Holmes tanto da arrivare a fantasticare di ricevere, un giorno, tutti i libri di Doyle.
Lentamente, la protagonista capisce anche che i suoi problemi non costituiscono una mole immensa come quelli di sua madre, alla quale impara così a negare la soddisfazione della sua rabbia.
Nel quarto capitolo del libro, siamo catapultati a quasi un decennio dopo i primi avvenimenti della storia e facciamo i conti con una Isobel matura, sempre innamorata dei suoi libri e delle sue storie ( in questo periodo sembra avere una predilezione per Lord Byron) e finalmente avviene la svolta: Isobel incontra persone come lei; lettori voraci con un amore per sofisticati romanzi e poesie.
Isobel sembra finalmente aver trovato il suo posto nel mondo, sembra finalmente aver messo a tacere quella voce nella testa che corre più veloce del tempo, che sputa parole e pensieri in un turbinio potente e travolgente. E poi la realizzazione finale con cui si conclude il libro… Spoilers!
La prosa magistrale e i l'iper realismo di questo romanzo scritto in terza persona e vissuto quasi del tutto attraverso il flusso costante di pensieri, a volte anche sconnessi di Isobel, spingono il lettore a pensare che si tratti di un romanzo autobiografico, cosa non del tutto errata tra l'altro. Nonostante questo romanzo sia colmo di ironia e autoironia, resta un romanzo di crescita doloroso e dai tratti agrodolci.
Un romanzo femminista che vuole raccontare della conquista della consapevolezza di se e del controllo della proprie e scelte.
Personalmente, ho finito questo romanzo in poche ore e l'ho trovato delizioso ma allo stesso tempo tanto,forse troppo doloroso. Un indagine familiare e di se straziante, con un finale che mi ha commossa a tal punto da lasciarmi a fissare il vuoto per un po'.
Consiglio questo romanzo a tutte quelle donne alla ricerca del loro posto nel mondo, alle outsiders, a quelle che si sentono sbagliate, a quelle che non hanno ancora capito di essere perfette e di quanto potenziale inesplorato giace in loro.
September 12, 2021
Il primo capitolo personalmente è quello che ho apprezzato di più, quello a mio sentire più vicino al lettore, in cui la durezza delle vicende è palpabile e trasmette empatia e coerenza con il titolo stesso del libro.
La passione per la lettura come porto sicuro a cui approdare per non soccombere alle brutture della vita, in questo caso familiare, di un calore assente, capo espiatorio e valvola di sfogo, Isabel, del malessere della madre (anche il padre si rivelerà, a posteriori, essere stato poco incline alla figlia avendole messo in testa paure infondate e la conseguente paura costante del giudizio altrui).
La seconda parte sconclusionata. Cambia il registro, cambia lo stile, cambia soprattutto la protagonista che in un salto temporale diventa d'un tratto adulta. Un' adulta sostanzialmente apatica, "liberata" dalle angerie di una madre che le ha reso l'infanzia infelice e per la cui perdita non riesce a provare dispiacere, se non sollievo. Un triste epilogo, quello del loro rapporto contrastato, che per il lettore finisce ancora prima di iniziare e e lascia basiti per la rapidità degli eventi e il cambio repentino di scene da una pagina all'altra, senza dare spiegazioni di alcun genere sull'accaduto, presentato come mero dato di fatto.
Poi il trasferimento in altro alloggio, l'approccio al lavoro, conversazioni (prolisse) in un café con dei giovani universitari, di cui non si cura poi tanto, così come dei pensionanti stessi con cui condivide spazi e momenti di convivialità. Tutto scorre placidamente in maniera insipida. Il suo amore per i libri non è svanito, è forse l'unica costante nella sua vita, libro fedele compagno sempre presente in borsa, che però diventa in questa parte della lettura un elemento marginale.
La sua personalità si snoda in flussi di coscienza talvolta senza capo né coda a cui è difficile star dietro, frutto di un passato (a noi grossomodo ignoto) che torna a farsi vivo nei suoi ricordi e che l'ha resa incapace di emozionarsi, di provare empatia per gli altri e di stringere rapporti di varia natura. Estranea a se stessa, risolve quanto c'è di irrisolto in sé nel finale ripercorrendo le vie verso la casa d'infanzia (dalla quale si è allontanata neanche un anno prima... per cui un passato piuttosto recente) e riscoprendo il coraggio di seguire il sogno della scrittura (mai accennato prima).
L'ho trovato lacunoso sotto diversi aspetti, innanzittutto narrativo, mancanza di continuità e pressapochismo generale... molti temi, dalla violenza alla morte, la religione vengono tirati in ballo con citazioni ecc. senza venire di fatto affrontati dando loro il giusto peso.
L'inizio era apparso promettente, c'erano tutti gli elementi per un proseguo in crescita... ma lo sviluppo ha disatteso le aspettative.
La passione per la lettura come porto sicuro a cui approdare per non soccombere alle brutture della vita, in questo caso familiare, di un calore assente, capo espiatorio e valvola di sfogo, Isabel, del malessere della madre (anche il padre si rivelerà, a posteriori, essere stato poco incline alla figlia avendole messo in testa paure infondate e la conseguente paura costante del giudizio altrui).
La seconda parte sconclusionata. Cambia il registro, cambia lo stile, cambia soprattutto la protagonista che in un salto temporale diventa d'un tratto adulta. Un' adulta sostanzialmente apatica, "liberata" dalle angerie di una madre che le ha reso l'infanzia infelice e per la cui perdita non riesce a provare dispiacere, se non sollievo. Un triste epilogo, quello del loro rapporto contrastato, che per il lettore finisce ancora prima di iniziare e e lascia basiti per la rapidità degli eventi e il cambio repentino di scene da una pagina all'altra, senza dare spiegazioni di alcun genere sull'accaduto, presentato come mero dato di fatto.
Poi il trasferimento in altro alloggio, l'approccio al lavoro, conversazioni (prolisse) in un café con dei giovani universitari, di cui non si cura poi tanto, così come dei pensionanti stessi con cui condivide spazi e momenti di convivialità. Tutto scorre placidamente in maniera insipida. Il suo amore per i libri non è svanito, è forse l'unica costante nella sua vita, libro fedele compagno sempre presente in borsa, che però diventa in questa parte della lettura un elemento marginale.
La sua personalità si snoda in flussi di coscienza talvolta senza capo né coda a cui è difficile star dietro, frutto di un passato (a noi grossomodo ignoto) che torna a farsi vivo nei suoi ricordi e che l'ha resa incapace di emozionarsi, di provare empatia per gli altri e di stringere rapporti di varia natura. Estranea a se stessa, risolve quanto c'è di irrisolto in sé nel finale ripercorrendo le vie verso la casa d'infanzia (dalla quale si è allontanata neanche un anno prima... per cui un passato piuttosto recente) e riscoprendo il coraggio di seguire il sogno della scrittura (mai accennato prima).
L'ho trovato lacunoso sotto diversi aspetti, innanzittutto narrativo, mancanza di continuità e pressapochismo generale... molti temi, dalla violenza alla morte, la religione vengono tirati in ballo con citazioni ecc. senza venire di fatto affrontati dando loro il giusto peso.
L'inizio era apparso promettente, c'erano tutti gli elementi per un proseguo in crescita... ma lo sviluppo ha disatteso le aspettative.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 14, 2017
My thanks for the Australian Women's Writers Challenge's Jan round-up of the classics (see: http://australianwomenwriters.com/201... )
for mentioning Amy Witting. I felt like Isobel in her discovery of an author never before heard of.
At the start I thought this book would be one of those old classics of life in post WWII Australia, a bit girlie, a bit flimsy. How wrong I was, this is an unique set of short stories tracing the life of Isobel, a complex character but with great observational powers and some of the best lines I have read for a while.
The first few stories trace Isobel from 9 years old with an older golden child sister and a mother who is so cold towards her (and lukewarm to the older sister). No birthday presents for Isobel was our introduction into this dreadful relationship. The second and third stories get even better with Isobel coming to grips with lies, truth, people's reactions, her mother's need for control and trying to figure out her place in the world. "The Grace of God and Hand-Me-Down" is one of the best short stories I have read about living with a unloving and bitter mother. In this book Isobel decides to act more contritely, more dutifully so to cover up her natural intellect and passion. Her mother can't cope with this, she needs to be in control and have her daughter in a box full of known labels. So I was a bit disappointed in the next story when the mother dies and Isobel leaves home and starts work.
But no matter "Glassware and Other Breakable Items" moves Isobel to confront some realities of life, the need to take charge in some decisions and an awakening that her love of reading has developed her mind, perceptions and confidence. She meets a group of university Arts students and is drawn into their debates about language, authors and books.
In the last story Isobel is enjoying life and comes to the realisation she wants to write.
In all these stories Witting displays a gift for identifying the human behaviour behind the everyday.
It's a pity she only was able to get her writings printed late in her life. I think she has left only a glimpse of what she was capable of.
for mentioning Amy Witting. I felt like Isobel in her discovery of an author never before heard of.
At the start I thought this book would be one of those old classics of life in post WWII Australia, a bit girlie, a bit flimsy. How wrong I was, this is an unique set of short stories tracing the life of Isobel, a complex character but with great observational powers and some of the best lines I have read for a while.
The first few stories trace Isobel from 9 years old with an older golden child sister and a mother who is so cold towards her (and lukewarm to the older sister). No birthday presents for Isobel was our introduction into this dreadful relationship. The second and third stories get even better with Isobel coming to grips with lies, truth, people's reactions, her mother's need for control and trying to figure out her place in the world. "The Grace of God and Hand-Me-Down" is one of the best short stories I have read about living with a unloving and bitter mother. In this book Isobel decides to act more contritely, more dutifully so to cover up her natural intellect and passion. Her mother can't cope with this, she needs to be in control and have her daughter in a box full of known labels. So I was a bit disappointed in the next story when the mother dies and Isobel leaves home and starts work.
But no matter "Glassware and Other Breakable Items" moves Isobel to confront some realities of life, the need to take charge in some decisions and an awakening that her love of reading has developed her mind, perceptions and confidence. She meets a group of university Arts students and is drawn into their debates about language, authors and books.
In the last story Isobel is enjoying life and comes to the realisation she wants to write.
In all these stories Witting displays a gift for identifying the human behaviour behind the everyday.
It's a pity she only was able to get her writings printed late in her life. I think she has left only a glimpse of what she was capable of.
April 10, 2023
Un romanzo particolare, che ammetto di aver concluso a fatica. Se nei primi tre capitoli, molto piacevoli e scorrevoli, leggiamo la storia non troppo felice della piccola Isobel, negli ultimi due ci troviamo davanti a un cambio drastico di stile di scrittura, che accompagna una Isobel adolescente alla scoperta di sé. Vengono trattati temi importanti, come l’emancipazione femminile e il desiderio di accettazione, ma a volte in modo troppo astratto. Nota di merito al finale, che ho apprezzato molto e che è una degna conclusione alla storia della protagonista: una fine che per lei è un nuovo inizio.
Il titolo originale, “I for Isobel”, rende molta più giustizia al racconto. La passione della protagonista per la lettura non è il punto centrale della storia, è più che altro una forte passione che la accompagna durante la crescita. Ma capita spesso che in fase di traduzione si cerchi un titolo che possa attirare maggiormente il pubblico di riferimento.
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Il titolo originale, “I for Isobel”, rende molta più giustizia al racconto. La passione della protagonista per la lettura non è il punto centrale della storia, è più che altro una forte passione che la accompagna durante la crescita. Ma capita spesso che in fase di traduzione si cerchi un titolo che possa attirare maggiormente il pubblico di riferimento.
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April 16, 2022
ANZLL discussion March '02.
Dymocks
Isobel, born to a mentally cruel mother sets the backdrop for her quest for identity - self doubt,lacking in confidence, Isobel lives in books.
Good book, particularly in the first 2/3rds. Ending became strange - esoteric and largely unfathomable for me. Very disappointing ending.
Book discussion did not shed any further light on the dimensions of this book. We explored websites on Witting's writings. Hope to read more from this writer.
Dymocks
Isobel, born to a mentally cruel mother sets the backdrop for her quest for identity - self doubt,lacking in confidence, Isobel lives in books.
Good book, particularly in the first 2/3rds. Ending became strange - esoteric and largely unfathomable for me. Very disappointing ending.
Book discussion did not shed any further light on the dimensions of this book. We explored websites on Witting's writings. Hope to read more from this writer.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
June 1, 2017
The first three chapters were certainly entertaining and very enlightning however as the book went on it became dull and repetative.
Not a very engaging read. Had to struggle to finish it.
Not a very engaging read. Had to struggle to finish it.
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