The Cherry Orchard, Anton Chekhov

    Tragedy or comedy? Imagine my surprise when I learned that Chekov originally intended The Cherry Orchard as a work of comedy. The plight of the Gayev family, from the perspective of my 21st century eyes, was more disheartening than any of the amusing qualities its members had. Each of their quirky mannerisms not only served to make us laugh, but to endear us to their character, no matter how flawed they may be. Chekov's misjudgment turned out a blessing in disguise, as the family's symbolic fall from grace had more to do with it becoming a classic than any satire ever did. The sentimentality evoked by the trees being chopped down at the end is the strongest emotion the play reveals, to my mind anyway. To a Russian serf living in 1903, it might have been something else. The debate is legendary: tragedy or comedy? I'd say it's a little of both. 

The Goldfinch, Donna Tartt

Donna Tartt has to be one of the most skilled writers of our era. She has a way of evoking the strongest of feelings with the most mundane objects. I never thought I could be put in trance by the description of a candle or a desk, but I was. She's also able to probe the depths of depression and anxiety like few others can. 

I didn't see Theo as the anti-hero that so many others did, mainly because he suffered through a major tragedy at a vulnerable age, and was consequently raised by an inferior parent. To call it Dickensian is appropriate in that sense. Judging by the reviews here (Goodreads), I think a lot of readers have been too hard on him. 

The Nightingale, Kristin Hannah

The Nightingale is the story of two sisters at odds with each other during the German occupation of France in World War 2. When a handsome German captain decides to billet in their home, sparks fly in more ways than one. It was a compelling story up until Isabelle, the riskier of the sisters, departed for Paris to help fight in the resistance. Things got more predictable as a result of their separation, however the strong ending made up for any disappointment I felt along the way. It even brought a few tears to my eyes; it was so sweetly sad that it's almost beautiful in a sense. 

Comparisons with All the Light We Cannot See are tempting, with their strengths and weaknesses reversed. I found the plot of this book to be more engaging than the Pulitzer winner, which had better writing in my opinion. The Nightingale has strong characters that make you want to keep reading, while the other captures the atmosphere of war, distress and longing so well that you're simply intoxicated. 

Readers may have been more drawn to the title character Isabelle, who is the Nightingale. On the surface she takes center stage as the heroine, but (perhaps surprisingly) I took more interest in Vianne's story. She was a hero in her own right, by being so patient in the midst of tragic events. Her role as the stereotypical woman overwhelmed by the circumstances of war was well-balanced by Isabelle's role as an impulsive, brave female warrior who doesn't take shit from anybody. Having one role without the other wouldn't have made for as good a story. What links the sisters as heroes is that they both sacrifice their lives- Isabelle for her country and Vianne for her family- as the brutality of war rages around them.