Ah, the seducer;
he is a comic figure.
I myself should know.

Sharp, analytical, and profoundly absorbing.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book. Hardwick is brilliant and moving in her portraits of the amateurs, Jane Carlyle, Dorothy Wordsworth, Zelda Fitzgerald. Her close reading of the life and works of her subjects and her identification of various echoes in her subject matter make for erudite yet humane essays. She is pretty forthright in her views but doesn't come across as scathing. Definite reread.

And what is the point of paraphrasing The Waves, of trying for your own circles of ebb and flow to compete with hers? I was immensely moved by this novel when I read it recently and yet I cannot think of anything to say about it except that it is wonderful. The people are not characters, there is no plot in the usual sense. What can you bring to bear: verisimilitude — to what? You can merely say over and over that it is very good, very beautiful, that when you were reading it you were happy.

This is an odd one, because I'm interested in just about everything Hardwich writes about in this essay-collection. I don't even demand much, in reading about subjects I love and know well, I'm fine with disagreeing with the author, I don't really mind some misktakes, but this book annoyed me so much I twice had to put it aside for several days to allow my irritation to wear off. Some of these essays are beautifully crafted and insightful, others are painful to read, engaging with their subjects only at a superficial level, but what grates even more are the many, many sentences that seem purpose-built to meander into nothingness.

I will be discussing this in the feminist book club I go to soon, and I hope for the sake of everyone I'll have calmed down enough not to be constantly reading out sentences, shouting WHAT DOES IT MEAN? DOES IT MEAN ANYTHING AT ALL?

Ah! Enjoyed this so much more than of her fiction. Loved the articles written about Sylvia Plath, Virginia Woolf, Zelda Fitzgerald and The Brontes.

I couldn’t get into this which is disappointing as I was really excited when I discovered Elizabeth Hardwick on an episode of the Women’s Prize for Fiction podcast. She sounded right up my street. The essays on Dorothy Wordsworth and the Brontes were my favourites, the rest I found a little too rambling and I couldn’t connect with the Ibsen essays whatsoever, having read precisely zero of his plays. I’m still curious to try another of her books though as she is so well respected.

Hardwick is a flinty dame and her prose cuts like a laser. Yowza.

I thought this was much better than "Imagining Characters." Elizabeth Hardwick explores a number of works and genres including plays, to give a well-rounded review of the ways women have been portrayed in literature, including their own works. She invites readers to really look at characters as well as authors, and we see that what is on the surface doesn't always reflect what the authors actually intended to portray. Many might find this dull, but as I am familiar with all of the works that Hardwick analyzed in this volume, I enjoyed it very much.

Can't help thinking I'd have gotten much more from this had I been familiar with more of the texts Hardwick dives into, but such is the calibre of authoritative insight it's well worth reading despite for a study of critical thought alone. No sacred cows here, just clean prose and cutting reassessment. Look forward to revisiting in a better-read future.

Si algo tienen en común las escritoras protagonistas de esta recopilación de ensayos (Zelda Fitzgerald, Sylvia Plath, Virginia Woolf o Jane Carlyle) es su indiscutible talento, su rico mundo interior, su inteligencia y curiosidad y un peculiar don creativo mezclado con traumas del pasado y problemas de salud mental provocados por diferentes cuestiones.

Lo que hace, y además muy bien, Elizabeth Hardwick en estos ensayos no es solo establecer este paralelismo entre estas fascinantes mujeres sino mostrarnos cómo su vida y, particularmente, su obra estuvo influida por el sistema patriarcal imperante de las épocas en las que vivieron.

De esta forma, Zelda fue menospreciada por F. S. Fitzgerald, que "robó" algunas de sus ideas y escritos para sus propios libros y nunca pudo publicar a pesar de su talento. "Las historias escritas por Zelda sola o por los dos eran a veces firmados por su marido por razones comerciales."

Sylvia Plath, ante la falta de atención total de su padre y su marido, Ted Hughes (que también llegó a menospreciarla y engañarla), al sentirse traicionada y abandonada, pudo expresar su rabia a través de sus poemas, publicados y alabados por la crítica.

Virginia Woolf también vivió un contexto de supremacía masculina y su obra así lo refleja, con personajes como la señora Dalloway o la señora Ramsay, que sufrieron las consecuencias de ello. Y Jane Carlyle fue una escritora que renunció a sus inquietudes intelectuales por cuidar de su marido (que era lo que se esperaba de ella) y ser después ignorada. Y, a pesar de ello, consiguió mostrar su talento, además una enorme fortaleza y sentido del humor, en sus cartas.

En estos casos, ¿qué hubiera ocurrido si, en las sociedades en las que vivieron, la mujer hubiera sido igual al hombre? Estos ensayos tocan muchos más temas y clásicos literarios, además de autoras, pero quería destacar este porque es muy interesante.

Estas autoras necesitan ser leídas y estudiadas no solo por su genialidad sino por haber podido desarrollarla, en mayor o menor medida, en un contexto hostil y cruel, de desigualdad hacia la mujer por el mero hecho de serlo.

I've done lots of clearing out my bookshelves. I keep holding onto this. Now and then reread a chapter. I'm setting the date read to today - not factual for I want this on my list. Whatever.