Ángels and Insects is a collection that consists of two distinct novellas set within the Victorian era.

Morpho Eugenia is rich in symbolism, offering ample material for a literature class to dissect each element, much like the insects that are collected and the main protagonist, who finds himself trapped like a pinned-down insect. However, the core of the story appears rather banal and somewhat vulgar.

The second story, which revolves around seances, contains moments of profound insight in Mrs Papagay’s thoughts. She wonders whether others construct stories in their minds in a similar fashion, if everyone fabricates the identities of others, both living and dead, at every juncture. She also ponders whether what she knows about Mrs Hearnshaw can be classified as knowledge or lies, or perhaps both.

Moreover, Tennyson’s musings regarding his feelings for his deceased friend are also quite thought-provoking. He has various concerns and unethical thoughts about his poem. He questions if he is using it to preserve a memory and a love that it might have been stronger and more manly to let go. He wonders if he is, in some improper way, exploiting his beloved for his own gain, his own fame, or more subtly, creating something fantastically beautiful out of the horror of Arthur’s dissolution. He contemplates whether it would have been wiser and more honest to confront it in silent and truthful, yet uncomprehending pain, until its hurtful brightness either fades like a dying fire or causes him to avert his gaze. He realizes that one cannot transform a man into a poem, neither the singer nor the sung, neither the rippling throat nor the still corpse.

Despite these clear insights and transcendent musings, the inserted poetry and long monologues seem a bit excessive and self-indulgent.

I have an appreciation for Byatt, but while “Possession” was a virtuosic work, this collection feels a bit like a dinner where every dish is a soufflé, perhaps a bit too rich and lacking in variety.

From the very beginning of the first novella, “Morpho Eugenia,” I was instantly aware that I was in the capable hands of a master. Indeed, there is a truly fabulous story here. It is fabulous not only in the sense of being fable-like but also in the sense of being exceptionally good. Byatt wins me over immediately with her tone and style.

I’ve heard that Possession is one of the great novels of the last few decades, and now I’m even more eager to read it. (This is my first encounter with Byatt.) I suspect it has a great deal in common with this work as well.

William begins (and, as a spoiler, ends) as a naturalist. He is drawn to studying the mysteries of the natural world. While a part of him longs for the English gardens in springtime, another more robust part desires nothing more than to explore the Amazon and its never-ending wonders. Byatt is wonderful at communicating the excitement of that science. She presents us with a thinker who is attempting to understand the world through the lens that thinkers like Darwin are just beginning to open up.

As part of this, she gives a sense of the rich web of emotion, intellect, and sexual naivete that seems to be a characteristic of the Victorian era. These people embrace their ideas passionately, using them as vehicles for other passions that they cannot fully express. In Byatt’s generous imagining, however, they are not settling for less. They are not so much repressed as their passion is redirected. It is so well done that it makes me think of Chekhov.

At the same time that William feels such scientific passion, he finds himself in a situation of golden handcuffs. Eugenia Alabaster appears to be everything he could ever want in a woman. She is beautiful and admires his work (even though she can’t quite understand it). She even shares a name with one of the butterflies he has studied in the Amazon. However, with all his specimens lost in a shipwreck, he is stuck as a houseguest of her wealthy family.

Then, in a twist beyond his imagination, he discovers that Eugenia will marry him and that her father, whose ideas of faith conflict with his scientific perspective, blesses the prospect. It seems perfect except for the fact that it means he will have to postpone his adventures.

[MAJOR SPOILER:] We gradually become aware that the reason Eugenia is willing to marry him and the reason her first fiancé killed himself is that she is involved in an incestuous relationship with her brother. It is ugly and unseemly, and it provides the excuse for him to make his escape, but it ultimately aligns with the great themes of the book.

In other words, the foreshadowed twist at the end suggests that William still has many worlds to discover. Eugenia, with all her beauty, is not quite the adventure he imagined. He is capable of love, but it is a love that he cannot separate from his need for scientific inquiry. When we see him at the end, at the prow of a ship headed back to the Amazon with his new love by his side, it seems like a triumph of his belief. I may make it sound corny, and it does have moments of being overly dramatic, but it is ultimately a fable. The young man nearly loses himself in the face of the glitter. Then he learns where the true substance lies.

The second novella, “The Conjugial Angel,” would seem flat to me, especially in comparison to “Morpho Eugenia” and also because of its general slowness, except that it engages in a conversation with some of the powerful work of Alfred Tennyson. Here, we see members of his family attempting – through spiritualism that most of them recognize as being somewhere between performance and grief therapy – to contact the ghost of Arthur Hallam, Tennyson’s dear friend and the fiancé of his sister.

I don’t think I would have enjoyed this one at all if it weren’t for the fact that it evokes some of Tennyson’s best work. Look, I pledged my allegiance all the way back in college to team Robert Browning. I believed Browning had more fun with history and a much better sense of humor. But, and here we return to Byatt’s genius for making the Victorians accessible, there is an enduring beauty in Tennyson if you can just remove the stiffness.

I know of “In Memoriam,” the poem he wrote in memory of Hallam, better than I actually know it. (You probably do too: “’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all” is just a part of it.) It is nearly book-length, and I’ve just never managed to read the whole thing.

In a drawing-room fashion, Byatt does manage to take some of the stiffness out of Tennyson’s accomplishment. This is a story about trying to keep living when some of what you thought was the best of tomorrow never gets to live beyond yesterday.

I won’t pretend that this isn’t slow or that I didn’t drift off during some of the minor exchanges. Nor do I think it reaches the overall excellence of “Morpho Eugenia” – a story so powerfully written that I have it on a list of novellas I would consider teaching to first-year students. Instead, it seems like a useful experiment in conversing with the intellects of a time that is almost out of our reach. And that is something worth doing.

Five stars for the first novella. More like 3.5 for the second.

Angels and Insects is composed of two novellas.

The first one, Morpho Eugenia, is truly captivating. In it, the hero makes a profound statement: "You may argue anything at all by analogy, Sir, and so consequently nothing." This clever piece made me root for Matty Crompton, who is a real force to be reckoned with. It also led me to deeply ponder the extensive explorations into entomology, which serve as a reflection of Victorian (or perhaps even our own) folly. As I mentioned, I saw the film nearly 20 years ago and was already familiar with the plot twists. However, this did not diminish the beauty of the plotting one bit.

The second novella, The Conjugal Angel, takes place a few years after the events of the first section and involves a séance. There is only a thin connection between the two narratives. While the first novella seems mature and well-paced, the second one appears rather inchoate, almost like a stillborn effort. Interestingly, this novella would later evolve into The Children's Book by A.S. Byatt.

Overall, Angels and Insects offers a unique and thought-provoking reading experience, with its two novellas presenting different perspectives and themes.

DNF

DNF stands for "Did Not Finish." It is a term commonly used in various contexts, such as in sports competitions, games, or even in personal projects. When someone DNFs, it means they have decided not to continue or were unable to complete the task or activity at hand.

There could be several reasons for a DNF. In a sports event, an athlete might DNF due to an injury, fatigue, or other unforeseen circumstances. In a game, a player might give up if they are losing badly or if they find the game too difficult or uninteresting. Similarly, in a personal project, a person might DNF if they lack the motivation, resources, or skills to complete it.

While a DNF can be disappointing, it is also an opportunity to learn and grow. It can help us identify our weaknesses and areas for improvement. It can also teach us the importance of perseverance and determination. Instead of seeing a DNF as a failure, we should view it as a stepping stone towards future success. So, the next time you encounter a DNF, don't be too hard on yourself. Take a deep breath, analyze what went wrong, and use the experience to come back stronger and more prepared.

The rating and review solely pertain to the first novella, Morpho Eugenia. I was intrigued to read Morpho Eugenia as I had watched the film adaptation, "Angels and Insects". The film was an extremely faithful adaptation of the novella. This implies that reading the book subsequent to seeing the movie eliminated any potential suspense and intrigue that might have otherwise existed.

The writing style is pleasant and highly evocative of the Victorian setting. However, the pacing is rather peculiar. The narrative is frequently interrupted by poems or texts (both fictional and non-fictional) penned by the characters. These are typically less captivating than the main narrative. Particularly towards the end, there is a fairy story written by one of the characters that spans approximately 20 pages, and it truly undermines any and all tension that has been built as the main narrative approaches its climax.

Nevertheless, it presents an interesting and unique plot, accompanied by exquisite, subtle (and entomologically accurate!) imagery. I wholeheartedly recommend either reading the book or watching the movie. But if one desires to do both, it is definitely advisable to read the book first.

This book encompasses two novellas, namely "Morpho Eugenia" and "The Conjugal Angel."

"Morpho Eugenia" is a captivating and spine-chilling Gothic narrative that details a young man's slow awakening to the profound levels of corruption within his wife's family. It keeps the reader on the edge of their seat, filled with suspense and shock.

The second novella, "The Conjugal Angel," is a light-hearted and fanciful story. It描绘了Alfred Lord Tennyson's sister Emily attending a seance, which was an enormously popular activity in the 19th century. There, she encounters the spirit of Arthur Henry Hallam, the very person her brother mourned in his renowned poem, "In Memoriam."

The charm of this book, in my opinion, lies in the contrast between the two novellas. If you are a devotee of Byatt, a lover of intelligent fiction, or a enthusiast of Victorian-age tales, each novella will draw you in. However, they will offer you distinct rewards.

"Morpho Eugenia" has been adapted into a movie titled "Angels and Insects," starring Mark Rylance and Kristin Scott Thomas. Personally, I quite enjoy the movie. Nevertheless, I am not fond of the fact that they adopted the name of the collection for it. As far as I can tell, there is nothing related to angels in "Morpho Eugenia." Why is it that movie makers always seem to make decisions that lead to confusion? Ghaaa.

For me, the story was rather lackluster.

At certain moments, it brought to mind Anne Rice's novels, being long-winded and overly descriptive.

I already had an idea of what was going to occur since I had watched the film (and quite enjoyed it).

Although the film was very faithful to the book, the story simply didn't possess that same "extra something" as the movie did.

The only instance when I found the novella even remotely interesting was during their conversations. Beyond that, it was a complete bore.

Perhaps I had already been spoiled by seeing the movie first, but I'm still glad I read the book.

I would sincerely recommend reading it before watching the film.

This way, you can form your own impressions and interpretations of the story without being influenced by the visual portrayal on the big screen.

You might discover details and nuances in the book that the movie couldn't fully capture.

Plus, reading allows you to engage your imagination and picture the scenes and characters in your own unique way.

So, give the book a chance before diving into the movie adaptation.

Not one but two books are presented here.

The first story, Morpho Eugenia, is set in the 19th century. Its plot, which might seem like a transparent intrigue centered upon family liaisons, is actually a clever ploy. The main character, a collector of insects, develops a particular interest in the nest and colonial social behavior of ants. What follows is an interesting exploration of the theme of social order. However, it unfortunately doesn't quite hit the mark. One can't help but compare it to T.H. White's "Once and Future King," which explored the same idea more succinctly. If Morpho Eugenia can be accused of regurgitating the occasional dry fact, then the second story, "The Conjugal Angel," positively rams a poetical biography down your throat. The plot here is awkward, and the characters are dismal. Byatt attempts to share her apparent joy of the works of Hallam and Tennyson. She weaves a story out of fragments of poems that, taken in isolation, are fine works of literature. But when reassembled to support her theme of contact beyond the grave, they feel mutilated and like a hideous Frankenstein parody. One wonders if this was an attempt at some sort of gothic horror that fell short of its mark. It's a puzzling work, and the best bit is the biography of the poets at the end, which should serve as a good guide to finding enjoyment in the fine works of poets who might be better left to rest in peace.

Overall, these two stories offer a mixed bag of experiences for the reader.

Life can sometimes seem so boring! The daily routine of waking up, going to work or school, coming back home, and repeating it all over again can feel like a never-ending cycle. There's nothing new or exciting happening. You find yourself doing the same things day in and day out, and it can really start to wear you down.

Even when you have free time, you might not know what to do. You could watch TV, but after a while, that gets old too. You could read a book, but sometimes you just don't have the motivation. It seems like everything is just so dull and uninteresting.

But it doesn't have to be this way. There are plenty of things you can do to add some excitement and variety to your life. You could try a new hobby, like painting or dancing. You could travel to a new place and explore different cultures. You could meet new people and make new friends. The possibilities are endless, and all it takes is a little bit of effort and a willingness to step out of your comfort zone.

Weird.

I truly adored Byatt's "Possession". It was a captivating and enthralling read that left a lasting impression on me.

However, since then, I've delved into a few of her other books and have come to a rather disappointing conclusion. It seems that she is more preoccupied with flaunting her intellectual might than crafting a story that holds any real depth.

"Insects" is a depressingly long-winded discussion about ants, with an all-too-obvious parallel drawn to human society. Oh, how novel that is! And it's coated with a dull and foreseeable storyline that fails to engage or excite.

This book consists of two novellas. The second one, "Angels", began so inanely that I simply gave up and decided to go have a chat with my sheep. Now that was a far better use of my time.

Overall, I'm left feeling rather disillusioned with Byatt's works after this latest experience.

The only reason I withdraw a star on such a wonderful read is the very nature of the book which is comprised of two novellas.

Not that there is anything wrong with the novella form, but it does limit one's involvement as the ending arrives before the flow of contentment has subsided. It's like having someone torn away from your life just as you found your comfort.

Fortunately for me, A.S. Byatt has many more reads unread and waiting for commitment. After first reading Possession a few years back, I knew I'd found an author with a skill, voice, and companion of spirit to lead me down whatever path she tread.

Both novellas concern Victorian England. I have a particular love of this age and the art it produced. The first novella, Morpho Eugenia, concerns a young scientist/adventurist who becomes trapped by circumstance and love on a large estate. Fresh from the Amazon with a new understanding of the myriad cultural complexities, he is uncomfortably constricted but under the spell of one Eugenia, a grand prize with a price.

The second novella, The Conjugal Angel, is centered on the sister of Alfred Tennyson, widowed to a young poet even before she was married. Now married to a sea captain some nine years after the death of her betrothed, Arthur, best friend and beloved of Alfred, she bears terrible guilt. The Victorian Age was immersed in spiritualism and this story concerns the unsuspected danger hiding behind the seance.

Byatt is a master writer and thinker who had me finally understanding Tennyson's great poem, In Memorium. The book is all too short to fill my cup, but the liquid is delicious to savor as you delicately sip your way to the bottom.

Overall, this collection of novellas offers a captivating glimpse into the Victorian era through Byatt's brilliant prose and profound insights. While the brevity may leave one longing for more, it also leaves a lasting impression and a desire to explore more of Byatt's work.

"Морфо Евгения" is approximately a billion times better than the other part.

This statement clearly emphasizes the superiority of "Морфо Евгения" in a very exaggerated way. It implies that the quality, value, or some other aspect of "Морфо Евгения" is extremely outstanding compared to the remaining part.

Such a comparison might be used to draw attention to the unique features or advantages of "Морфо Евгения", perhaps to promote it or to make a strong point about its significance.

However, it's important to note that such a hyperbolic claim should be taken with a grain of salt and evaluated based on more objective criteria and evidence.

In conclusion, while the statement "Морфо Евгения" is approximately a billion times better than the other part grabs our attention, we should approach it with a critical eye and further investigate the details to truly understand the nature of this superiority.