This is an old haphazardly written review, but I had to post here this one; because both the book and the Literary Society are dear to my heart.
Book: Cakes and Ale
Author: William Somerset Maugham.
First Published: 1930.
I must admit that any description of this novel I can think of will not do justice to it. Somerset Maugham's elegance in simplicity made the characters come alive in the busy city with it's mix and match of modern superficiality and a conservative heart. The characters criss-cross the life of the narrator William Ashenden, who starts idly looking back into the past when the second wife of a deceased well-known author's wife contacts him to write his biography. He looks back into the life of the author and thinks about the fascination and curiosity with which he, nay, everyone perceived his first wife, Rosie.
The story shifts seamlessly from the past and present here and then, tracing the layers of human characters effortlessly, so much so that one shall find a bit of oneself in someone or the other, even if uncomfortably so. Much like his other novels, he subtly points out the hypocritical mask that we all wear, rather vulnerably. The reality is only apparent in the last line that finishes off the novel with much grace. Of the little that I have read, this story has the best last line I have come across, one that not only gives one the inherent message in the novel, but also gives one some thoughts to reflect upon for the sake of growing up.
Book: Cakes and Ale
Author: William Somerset Maugham.
First Published: 1930.
I must admit that any description of this novel I can think of will not do justice to it. Somerset Maugham's elegance in simplicity made the characters come alive in the busy city with it's mix and match of modern superficiality and a conservative heart. The characters criss-cross the life of the narrator William Ashenden, who starts idly looking back into the past when the second wife of a deceased well-known author's wife contacts him to write his biography. He looks back into the life of the author and thinks about the fascination and curiosity with which he, nay, everyone perceived his first wife, Rosie.
The story shifts seamlessly from the past and present here and then, tracing the layers of human characters effortlessly, so much so that one shall find a bit of oneself in someone or the other, even if uncomfortably so. Much like his other novels, he subtly points out the hypocritical mask that we all wear, rather vulnerably. The reality is only apparent in the last line that finishes off the novel with much grace. Of the little that I have read, this story has the best last line I have come across, one that not only gives one the inherent message in the novel, but also gives one some thoughts to reflect upon for the sake of growing up.
Posted by Sohini Chattopadhyay, Department of History, Presidency University
