Evelina by Frances Burney

This novel was both humorous and engaging as it traces the story of a naive, young girl's gradual exposure to 18th century society. Although Evelina's extreme innocence is at times infuriating, she slowly, if erringly, corrects her ways and finds her virtue rewarded in the end. The end itself is a bit troubling; the central absence of the book seems a bit contrived, and while the ending has Evelina rushing home to correct it, this haste seems inappropriate for her changed circumstances. Great fun--keep an eye out for the monkey, especially.

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress by Robert Heinlein

This book seriously addresses questions of politics and free will under the guise of science fiction. While there's a lot of technical information about the communications systems and ballistics used by Mycroft (the artificial intelligence that coordinates the revolution), the book takes on the question of political self-determination. Written in a dialect supposed to have developed on the moon, the prose isn't the most elegant I've ever read. For me, the most compelling relationship in the book (and the most compelling reason to read the book) was the friendship between Mannie and Mike. I'm grateful to the friend who lent me his copy.

Possession: A Romance by A.S. Byatt

This book is a remarkable and complex text. A mystery of sorts, the story of the discovery of a love affair between two fictional, Victorian poets unfolds against the love affair of two modern scholars. It took me close to five months to finish (obviously, I've been reading other things)--and while I certainly found it compelling, it was strangely hard to get into at places. Byatt has constructed all sorts of texts for this novel: letters, journals, poems--and while I love the feel of the paper chase and am dazzled by the wide array of background material to the text, at times the format hinders the flow of the story. Overall well worth reading. Booker winner, 1990.

Suite Française by Irène Némirovsky

I read this book in two sittings, which is to say, once I was twenty pages in, I couldn't put it down. Némirovsky's elegant prose, subtle connections and juxtapositions, and graceful attention to nuance all contribute to this book's remarkable power. Set in the heart of the Nazi occupation of France, the book remains strikingly incomplete (Némirovsky wrote only two of five planned sections before she was arrested and murdered by the Nazis), yet one wonders whether it could have been finished, given the conditions of its creation. Her ambition is equal to that of Tolstoy or Proust, and the book is one I most enthusiastically recommend.

Laura by Leonora Sansay

I found this example of the American Gothic very interesting. It starts in a European convent a generation in advance, and involves a doubling of the escape from paternal oppression (both in the protagonist and in her mother). The book's description of its own plot I found a little misleading.

The Secret History or the Horrors of St. Domingo by Leonora Sansay

This semi-autobiographical novel is framed as a collection of letters from the sister of a wife of a French planter to Aaron Burr when she, her sister, and the husband return to reclaim his plantation during the 1803 interlude in the Haitian Revolution. The status of language (which are being learned and spoken) is vexed, as is the domestic position of the narrator and the sister, who feels she has been mis-matched in marriage. I found the editorial arrangement of the letters (which, for one thing, obviously omits Burr's reactions) troubling.

The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner

Faulkner called this novel his most splendid failure; I am inclined to find it his most perfect book. At times the novel seems almost over-determined, and Faulkner has set up his story to cruelly highlight the losses of each of the three Compson brothers, even as their sister, Caddy, remains elusively absent from the text. Her absence was more painful and pronounced than ever, this time through.