My Neglected Bookshelf

When summer arrived and the term ended, I madly dashed into the sun to soak up the rays I missed when studying. But a week passed and I felt bereft of my routine - a purpose as it were. Then, yet again, I felt too tired for any academic pursuits. Idleness is an easy friend. Brain rot is an increasingly close companion. 

So, I’ve decided to invest time in the unread books that sit neglected in my room back home. The first title I encountered was Wise Children by Angela Carter, a novel narrated by a seventy-five-year-old woman, Dora Chance, on her birthday. As though reading the protagonist’s diary, we as readers are enveloped in the glitter, feathers and dreams of the Chance twins’ time as chorus girls in music hall variety shows. Published in 1991, it explores cultural changes mid-19th century through the lens of love, scandal, sex and the theatre. Submerged in Shakespearean reference, Carter’s narrative portrays truths of womanhood. Her humour is unflinching in its vulgarity and provocative nature. Intended to both shock and entertain, it challenges Western society’s historic obsession with perfection and aestheticism. Reading Carter’s ingenious storytelling is a thrilling experience; she crafts tangible characters and spaces, with a light dusting of magical realism. 

I, a chronic pessimist and aspiring optimist, found her down-to-earth narrator comforting. Whilst third year approaches, and with it expectations to join the real world of employment, there is an inevitable anxiety - a desire to be perfect and have no regrets. But going forward, I aim to live by the motto of Dora Chance: “pluck the day! You ain’t dead yet! You’ve got a party to go to! Expect the worst, hope for the best!”

Imagine walking the staircase of a grand opera house. Surrounded by the opulence of 20^th-century recreative Renaissance ceiling art. Intricacies beyond description and magnificent chandeliers casting everything gold. This is the setting of The Phantom of the Opera. Originally a whispered story in the wings of Palais Garnier, Paris, until the tale was recorded for public consumption by Gaston Leroux and now a dazzling globally loved musical. I was ecstatic for the opportunity to walk the halls of the home of Christine Daae and her Angel of Music, all the while remembering my recent reading of this early 20^th-century Gothic novel. 

Leroux’s Phantom of the Opera records the haunting activities that terrorised the ballet girls and how one woman rose to fame after secret singing lessons. In the traditionally Gothic style of slow-moving action, Leroux portrays themes of isolation and obsession. Readers are drawn to sympathise with the lonely and persecuted musical genius Erik, who has been shunned from society for his disfigured appearance. But his abilities to deceive and destroy life mark him as a dangerous and dislikeable protagonist. 

In the real life opera house stood guarding the orchestra’s entrance atop the staircase, are Tragedy holding a sword and Comedy holding a lyre. I walked before them and my hand itched to touch their silhouette, to feel close to the magic of theatre that seeped from every facet of the building. Leroux captures this intense fascination with the stage as a tangible entity. When I stepped into the ballroom, I could recall Christine’s ambition and the Phantom’s desire to be part of the sacred and elusive world of live storytelling.

Palais Garnier, Paris

Whilst on this Gothic trajectory, my most recent read was the dark fantasy romance Phantasma by Kaylie Smith. A BookTok recommended distraction for a nervous flyer, home from holiday. Ophelia Grimm is forced to participate in a Ghostly competition to discover family secrets and find her sister. Along the way, she is forced to make a bargain with a devilishly handsome Phantom. Ghouls, gore and a little love. This book was an excellent example of a giggle-inducing kick your feet in the air story. 

Whilst I should probably delve into the third year reading lists next, the theatre is calling, and I’ve found Angels in America by Tony Kushner on my shelf.