Structurally not as tight as some of her other writing, though rich and multi-layered as always.

Morpho Eugenia: The entomology is so delightfully Victorian and the metaphor/mythology is so saucy that one can easily forgive the meandering plot and text-book ending.

The Conjugial Angel: Swedenborg, seances, theology and the Tennysons. What could be more Victorian? Only Byatt can craft such engaging prose from and of the poetry of those times. This novella is a study of close reading and reading between the lines.

Byatt's works often display a certain looseness in structure compared to some of her other writings. However, they are always rich and multi-layered, offering a depth of exploration that is truly captivating.

In "Morpho Eugenia," the entomology aspect is charmingly Victorian, adding a unique flavor to the story. The saucy metaphor and mythology make it even more interesting, allowing readers to overlook the somewhat meandering plot and predictable ending.

"The Conjugial Angel" is a prime example of Byatt's ability to create engaging prose from the poetry of the Victorian era. With elements such as Swedenborg, seances, theology, and the Tennysons, it truly embodies the spirit of that time. This novella is not only a literary work but also a study in close reading and the art of reading between the lines.

Reread
*
'My name', she said, 'is Matilda. Up here at night there is no Matty. Only Matilda. Look at Me.'

The above dialogue is from the first novella of the book, Morpho Eugenia. It strangely echoes a recent read of mine, which in turn echoed another novel I read not long ago. The main theme of Morpho Eugenia is the contrast between the male protagonist's current life with a Victorian English family and his past in the Amazon. Matty/Matilda emerges as a patient and reckoning force. Although I clearly recalled the ending from my previous read, I was still taken aback by part of it. Despite some self-indulgent passages, which is typical of Byatt, I once again found this novella to be a multi-layered and captivating work.
*
Mrs. Papagay...wondered whether other people told themselves stories in this way in their heads, whether everyone made up everyone else, living and dead, at every turn, whether this she knew about Mrs Hearnshaw could be called knowledge or lies, or both...

Before delving into the second novella, The Conjugial Angel, I was already inundated with 19th-century women - real, fictional, and even hybrids. With this work, I can now add two more - one fictional and the other a hybrid. As interesting and learned as Byatt's riffs on Swedenborgian and Tennysonian ideas were, I preferred inhabiting the minds of the women. Building on the'secondary' theme of the unseen woman in the first novella, a'secondary' theme here is the resistance to the Victorian age's 'angel-in-the-house' mindset. This resistance may have led to Emily's willful eccentricity and perhaps a touch of The Yellow Wallpaper, but at least not The Madwoman in the Attic.
*
After reading Byatt's works consecutively (along with my recent read of The Children's Book), it dawned on me that despite her very dark themes, these stories conclude on uplifting notes. These endings may be 'fantasies' (especially for that era), but they are not fantastical. They offer a glimmer of hope and possibility in the midst of the often complex and troubled worlds she creates.

It is always fascinating to peruse multiple works penned by a single author. One can thereby gain a more profound understanding of their preoccupations, as well as the recurring stylistic elements and motifs. "Possession" is not merely a novel about the Victorian poetic imagination; it also contextualizes that era and those imaginations within a contemporary framework. The concept of truth is contingent upon one's vantage point, and there is always a great deal that we do not and cannot know. "Insects and Angels" actually consists of two novellas, "Morpho Eugenia" and "The Conjugal Angel," both of which are set in the Victorian era and explore knowledge and understanding. Both novellas contain certain intertextual elements. The former features invented texts, similar to "Possession," while the latter uses Tennyson as its scaffolding. And ultimately, both are love stories, albeit rather unusual and highly literary romances.

Of the two novellas, it is arduous to select a favorite. "Morpho Eugenia" is, in some respects, more accessible, with a clearer and more straightforward narrative thread. A shipwrecked naturalist enters the orbit of a wealthy collector and his family, falls in love with and marries the man's daughter, and uncovers secrets that shatter his perception of the world. Darwin looms large throughout the story. Our protagonist commences studying the ant species on the property and is encouraged by the children's tutor to pen a book on their behavior, which invites comparisons to the world of the well-ordered estate. The tutor herself composes a whimsical fairy tale that is very much of the era.

Undoubtedly, some readers will detest these textual digressions, which do not truly advance the plot, heighten the tension, and so forth. However, they are incredibly rich, establishing motifs and exploring themes in a manner that helps to contextualize the plot and enhance our comprehension of the characters and their perspectives on the world. Byatt also writes exquisitely, adapting her voice/style to suit the context and demonstrating a deft understanding of the period.

"The Conjugal Angel" required a bit more effort on my part, partly because the style at times shifts into a more fluid stream of consciousness with richly sensual imagery (something that might reinforce some thematic concerns). The plot also feels somewhat more amorphous and challenging to precisely determine its direction until halfway through. The seance at the center is almost more like a catalyst that sets other events in motion, bringing problems to the fore that each character endeavors to resolve. Mrs Papagay's attempts to come to terms with the loss of her husband is the thread along which all this is strung.

Swedenborg is an intriguing figure, curiously overlooked in modern esoteric/occult circles yet the definitive touchstone within the 19th century to which everyone referred. Here, Byatt employs his concept of the afterlife as a springboard for understanding grief and how the memory of the dead persists in the living. Tennyson's "In Memoriam," which I believe is quoted almost in its entirety throughout, is the text she weaves into this.

Although more demanding in some respects, this is the novella that had a greater impact on me. Grief is something with which I am all too familiar, and Tennyson's attachment to Arthur, who passed away far too young before he could fully develop his talents, was relatable. However, the women in Byatt's story, I think, have the upper hand, for it is evident that Emily perceives things her brother could not. Her interrogation of Arthur when he insists that women do not possess the same capacity as men was also relatable, and one can also observe how that truth undermines any deification of the man.

The novellas are well-matched, one exploring the boundaries of science, the other of spirituality, a very Victorian dichotomy.

"Ángeles e insectos" by A.S. Byatt. My gateway to the great British writer is more about two long stories with a powerful connection that makes them complementary rather than a single story.

In "Morpho Eugenia", the writer tells us the story of William Adamson, a naturalist who suffers a shipwreck and ends up in an aristocratic family where he will find love and create a family. The study of insects (especially ants and bees) will help him discover what his wife is like and his true role in life.

In the second story, "El ángel conyugal", the approach changes radically as a séance unleashes an exacerbated mysticism in the protagonists who begin to develop in a very spiritual way, completely contrary to the previous story. One of the stories, from a terrestrial perspective, with a well-written Victorian prose, but not with so many artifices, leads us to a discovery of life ("This is the most important thing. To be alive. While one is still alive, looked at closely, it is amazing"). In the second, the prose is unleashed to create a story in which the poetry of Tennyson (one of the protagonists) becomes omnipresent, the poetry mixes with the prose, the language is of a breathtaking lyricism, beautiful, without flaws, adorned to the point of exhaustion, with a great use of the interior monologue. It seems that nothing happens but everything takes place inside the characters. Equally, it leaves us a terrestrial note for a life-charged ending.

A pair of stories that demonstrate the writer's erudition (what a study of entomology and especially angelology and the poetry of Tennyson...) but not at all cerebral but quite the opposite, charged with a simply moving lyricism. How well she writes. More than recommended, essential.

The first part - "Morpho Eugenia" - even pulls a four, there is something strangely beautiful and at the same time cynical in it, which can sometimes be found in Margaret Atwood, for example. Only the novel is at the same time reflexive-Victorian, and thinks more about falsehoods, but these are not intrusive such, good thoughts.

I didn't succeed with the second one, maybe there is just too much Tennyson and Swedenborg there; although the very idea of an alternative history - almost like the novel about Emily Dickinson and Walt Whitman in "Stimpank" by Di Filippo - is very likeable.

(Oh, so I managed to call on three other authors in three sentences. In my opinion, this is chronic.)

This book is composed of two novellas that are set in 19th century England.

The first novella focuses on an English entomologist who returns to his homeland after spending ten years in Amazonia, shortly after Charles Darwin published The Origin of Species. He then marries into an aristocratic family. To his horror, this family appears uncannily more like a colony of eusocial insects than a human family, in ways he never anticipated. Myrmecologist and sociobiologist Edward O. Wilson once made a statement: "Karl Marx was right, socialism works, it is just that he had the wrong species." Reading this novella led me to wonder if this saying would hold more truth if feudalism were substituted for socialism.

I did not read the second novella, which seemingly pertains to spiritualism. It would be interesting to explore how this novella might offer a different perspective or theme compared to the first one. Perhaps it delves into the mysteries of the spiritual world and how it intersects with the lives of the characters.

Overall, the first novella presents a unique and thought-provoking concept that blurs the lines between the human and insect worlds, while also inviting readers to consider alternative interpretations of social and political theories.

This work is similar to her novel POSSESSION in terms of themes. It contains two novellas, which makes it easier to read. However, it is no less fulfilling and is just as well written. The author has managed to create a captivating world within these pages, filled with interesting characters and engaging storylines. Each novella offers a unique perspective and explores different aspects of the overarching theme. Whether you are a fan of the author's previous work or new to her writing, this is a must-read. It will keep you entertained from beginning to end and leave you with a sense of satisfaction. Highly recommend!

Emily Jesse occasionally understood that throughout life, one is accompanied not only by the beloved and accusing departed but also by one's own ghost, which is also accusing and unappeased. This thought sets the tone for two remarkable Neo-Victorian novellas.

Morpho Eugenia is a unique story for me. It features anthropomorphic insects that engage in a dance similar to that of the humans who study them. The ending is truly surprising, reminiscent of the plot twist in Possession.

The second novella, The Conjugial Angel, is simply wonderful. Byatt presents an impressive portrayal of the man Tennyson wrote the infamous In Memoriam for, Albert Henry Hallam. The text is filled with heavy and raw emotion, which deeply moved me.

Byatt is a powerful writer, but I wonder if these novellas benefit from being bound together. I like the combination, yet it might be more advantageous for the first novella than the second. The second one was so good that it could have been an entire book.

I am determined to read more of Byatt's work and acquire additional books by her!

Two truly wonderful novellas grace the pages of this work. Both are of the gothic genre and are set in the 1800's. Interestingly, there was reportedly a movie made based on the first story, titled after the book itself. However, from what I could gather online, it seems to be really quite awful. AS Byatt has invested an enormous amount of research into this book. It is highly scholarly in nature, especially the second story. This second story mainly focuses on Alfred Tennyson's poem In Memoriam, which was written for his best friend who was engaged to his sister and met an untimely death at a young age. Despite the scholarly aspects, I found both stories to be captivating and engaging. I thoroughly enjoyed them and have made up my mind to seek out more works by this talented author.

I read Angels & Insects because I had a great liking for the mid-90's film of the same name, which was based on the first of the two novellas in this book.

Now that I've completed both novellas, I feel as if I've just come back from a battle. Fatigued, limping, and bleeding (if I were more intelligent, I would make an ant analogy here, but unfortunately, I'm not).

This has been a rather unusual experience. Whenever I thought I couldn't continue, something would emerge and capture my interest enough to keep going. I'm mainly referring to The Conjugal Angel here, the second novella. I almost gave up on it around the first third.

Morpho Eugenia is a fairly pleasant story, quite easy to read, except for the excerpts from the written work of the characters. I suppose it adds a little something, but for me, it's too little to justify their inclusion.

I saw someone mention in their review that especially Matty's fairytale towards the end completely disrupts the flow of the story. I can understand why the author included it, but at the same time, I could definitely have done without it, not to mention some of those philosophical bits that precede it in the novella (let's just say our hero wasn't a very captivating author).

The Conjugal Angel was a less enjoyable experience. While reading it, I periodically went through bouts of interest and despair. I didn't find the style of the prose (actually different from the one used in Morpho Eugenia) easy at all. I had to re-read passages and sometimes go way back.

You see, I'm not a native English speaker. I know of Tennyson, but I've never read any of his poems (and I can't say I'll be in a hurry to do so now, to be honest). Hallam, I'd never even heard of until this book, and for a while, I got confused and thought he was Tennyson's brother, not Emily's. So it was a bit of a mess, partly due to my ignorance and partly because the style didn't exactly assist people like me, who had very little knowledge of the basic facts it was referring to.

A note: But kudos to Byatt for sneaking some gay content into this book. Yay for gay.

In my mind, there are extremely few authors who can even approximate the command of language that Byatt has. What's even rarer is that she is an author who attributes as much intelligence to her reader as she herself has.

That being stated, "Angels and Insects" simply didn't fulfill my expectations. It is beautifully written (naturally), but it didn't quite captivate me in the way that Byatt's other novels and short stories, especially, have.

There are two novellas within the book that successively explore the Victorian fascination with the rather contradictory ideas of science and spiritualism.

Full review here

I had some difficulties with 'The Conjugial Angel', yet I took pleasure in 'Morpho Eugenia'. I felt that the former was more intellectually demanding. Perhaps I say this because I know and understand more about Darwin, who is central to 'Morpho', than I do about Swedenborg, who is central to 'Conjugial'. I found the long passages discussing Swedenborg's thoughts on angels and the dead rather dull. Although the narrative was filled with tensions such as those between Mrs Papagay and her would-be suitor, Mr Hawke, and the uncertainty about whether Captain Papagay was actually dead, whether Sophy Sheekhy was a genuine medium or a fraud, speculations about the relationship between Arthur Hallam and Emily Tennyson, and the comic use of the farting pug dog, the liver-eating raven, and the talkative Captain Jesse, these plot threads were not sufficient to hold my interest. They were constantly interrupted by forays into the Victorian fascination with God, the afterlife, angels, and so on, which did not engage me. I have always been unable to enjoy what I consider to be the pointlessness of philosophical and theological speculation. I feel that the Victorians must have wasted a great deal of time and energy, just as Sir Harald Alabaster does in 'Morpho', trying to prove the unprovable.

That was a bit of a rant, but there was still plenty that I did enjoy. Like Iris Murdoch at her most accessible, Byatt is excellent at describing the physical world, and her narrative line is always clear. The characters are well-drawn and fully developed. In 'Morpho', there is the excitement of discerning exactly what is happening between Eugenia and her brother, Edgar, as well as the growing attraction between William and Matty. So I thoroughly enjoyed the intelligent control of the writing and the crafting of fine prose.

Nevertheless, for me, there was too much of a sense, especially in 'Conjugial', that Byatt may have felt that after doing all her research (and there is an impressively extensive bibliography at the end of the novels), she was determined to include it all. This may not be a problem if you are a fan of the novel of ideas, but while I can admire such a text from a distance, I am not very good at engaging with them on a personal level when reading.

Nevertheless, I haven't been so frustrated as to give up on Byatt. I have 'The Game' lined up for a future read.