The thrill of reading for the first time

I’m an urban woman of a certain age, lifelong book addict and culture vulture, and I've long wanted a place to talk about what I'm reading, watching, looking at, and thinking about with like-minded women (and men too). Though we may be rich in experience and ideas, we are poor in time, and I hope Mme Bluestocking will give me a chance to engage with others whenever convenient, to read or write about the pleasures of culture high and low, and honor the original gatherings of what became known as the “bluestockings” (though it was their male guests who wore the casual blue leg coverings!) These English women in the 18th century invited the (male) luminaries of their day to give talks and spark discussion, when formal education wasn't the done thing for girls and women. In that spirit, I hope to tempt some of my (female) contemporaries to write in this space. And since I've worked in book publishing for almost 30 years, I’d like to provide a little behind the scenes intelligence and my own thoughts on an industry that through technology is becoming open to all. Just as the ladies of the 18th century portended universal education—though we still have quite a way to go to achieve that…..

Reading and re-reading

Just before Christmas I was surprised to see Death Comes to Pemberley by P.D. James on the New York Times bestseller list. I’d heard nothing about it coming out—a December drop-in from Knopf? —and as one of my colleagues said, it sounded delicious: a murder mystery sequel to Pride and Prejudice. I downloaded immediately.

Of course no one can imitate Jane Austen, but James gives it a go. After a too-long, dialogue-less beginning of imitation Austen, I almost threw up my hands. Then James turned to 19^th century English law, the courts, a legal drama, which is what she does best. Nice twisty ending, and a fun cameo by characters from another Austen novel I won’t spoil.

Which got me thinking: when I love a novel as much as I do P&P (or Henry James’s The Portrait of a Lady or Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights, all of which I’ve read several times), I keep longing to have that first experience again. That’s actually the highest compliment that I can pay a book: I wish I could read it for the first time again. And writers must feel it too; why else attempt prequels, sequels and the like of famous beloved novels that can never be duplicated?

James’s Pemberly did evoke Austen, and made me want to read P&P again too. After all, it spawned an entire genre of novels that follow the drama of making a marriage—what we now call romance, women’s fiction, chick-lit.  But even though Austen can’t be bested, I’ll still give anyone a shot who tries. And on that note, can’t wait for the second part of Downton Abbey to begin….