Hate-Read Book Club: This Victorian Life - Ch 2 & 3
Sarah begins Chapter 2 giving a lesson on the history of the Thanksgiving holiday. Honestly, it’s fine. The holiday does have decidedly Victorian beginnings, so it makes sense to go over it. But I will reiterate that she and her husband moved into their new Victorian house in the middle of a snowstorm the day before Thanksgiving (which is why she brings it up), and as a person who likes to enjoy holidays with family, and once had to move in the middle of an ice storm that delayed everything a day or two and never ever ever wishes that on anyone, I think they’re nuts.
There's not much to this chapter - she quotes a story from an old Good Housekeeping about a couple moving into their new house, and follows it up with her own contribution to Victorian prose. She's definitely immersed in the style of the period and it's affected how she writes. That's what happens. But it's a style that can get trying very quickly to the modern reader.
Oh shut up.
Chapter 3 goes back to the nitty gritty of moving into a rundown/fixer-upper house that happened to have been built in the 1880s -- thus its appeal.
Now I’m imagining Sarah trying to give a massage while wearing her corset. Any massage therapists want to chime in on the ability to perform your job when you can’t bend over much? And would a woman have performed that job in the late 1800s? (Oh bother, I did a Google search on the matter and came up with some NSFW images. Not that kind of massage!) Also, would *you* want to go to the home of a massage therapist who acts like and dresses like she’s in the late 19th century? Sounds like a very specific proclivity. No kinkshame, but I’d definitely be put off by that, personally. I mean, I’d want to see credentials and know the doors are unlocked.
Okay, it’s a sweet story. I know plenty of couples with “we didn’t have two dimes to rub together” stories and they can be very charming and sentimental. But now I’m annoyed that they aren’t being fiscally responsible buying a house that needs so much work when they could barely afford to feed themselves and give acorns as gifts, no matter what they represent. Keep in mind this is a librarian and a massage therapist. They don’t make bank.
Okay, okay 1) I think I’d prefer reading about Sarah’s travels and adventures before she decided she was born in the wrong time period than how much she likes a rundown house, and 2) I think I’d also prefer reading a book about Sarah’s encounters with ghosts she doesn’t believe in. Of course this house is supposedly haunted, and of course I want to learn more about that!
(*jots down idea for Victorian Couple Hate Fan Fiction, puts aside for later*)
Ha ha. Ha ha. Ha ha. No really, I think I’d like a book about a couple that dresses up like Victorians and hunts for ghosts.
Here’s where our heroes regale us with moving into their Victorian era house in the middle of a snowstorm. On one hand, the tale sounds rather humorous and could be a cute little write up in a magazine about buying your first house and not knowing what to do that first night when it’s freezing and you have no furniture. On the other hand, this just seems like a bunch of foolishness, which is the way I ended up taking it. Because Sarah did not write this in a “oh my gosh, what were we thinking?!” way, but more of a, “look at us being adventurous and not taking better care of our well-being!” kind of way.
This is how you know a kid born in the 80s is a little wacky -- the electricity going out and NO TV OR NINTENDO?! I don’t think most of us realized we wanted that peace and quiet until we became jaded Millennials who are constantly around screens and mostly don’t want to deal with texts from an ex or email from work.
Ah, this is where we start getting the “I like living in the Victorian era so I can feel close to nature” kind of jive. But I’d hardly call the Victorians bastions of oneness with nature. *cough* COAL *cough* the filthy Thames *cough*
“We must confront the darkness to know the value of the light.” Now I’m beginning to think that Sarah’s trying to give me religion. Or is trying to be some wise hermit at the beginning of a cult 80′s kid’s adventure movie sending me on a quest. Or at the end after I’ve defeated the evil wizard.
She makes some good points, but it ends poorly. (Don’t... don’t say pussycats. That term has become pretty problematic lately.) Sure, it’s great to look for ways to eliminate your carbon footprint. However, some of us, many of us, live in places where it’s almost impossible to live without a car. You can’t maintain a job. You can’t get your groceries. Not all of us have a bike, or can safely ride it. I’m just saying.
Man I’d wish we had better public transit in more cities in this country, but that’s another matter.
*long exasperated sigh*
So now Sarah is a Baby Boomer, griping about “kids today” who just stare at screens and never read books or go outside. As a public librarian, let me tell you plainly that those mobile phones are pretty darn essential. You have to have an email address to function in today’s society adequately. I’m betting even Sarah here has to have an email to submit her copy for blogs and her books. As soon as folks start whining about how often kids have their faces in screens I start to tune out. (Most of those folks can’t remember their passwords or how to Google, so...)
Yeah, I’d say that’s perverse. Let’s just hope you don’t have insulin that needs to be refrigerated.
So they drive through a snowstorm and find their house is frozen. The water in the toilet bowl and tank is frozen, literally. Personally I wouldn’t be so hasty to move into a house 1) during a snowstorm, 2) that hasn’t been inhabited in a long time and needs to be cleaned, and 3) that hasn’t been heated to adequate levels. To me, this sounds like bad planning and/or sign of immaturity. Sure, Sarah, you can have your old house with all it’s old trappings, but maybe you should be able to actual put the house in an “inhabitable* condition?
Hate-Read Book Club: This Victorian Life - Introduction
Having just started this book, I can already tell you I’m annoyed with everything about Sarah Chrisman and she’s barely revealed anything. She has a very flowery way of writing that lends itself better to a novel than a memoir. It’s part of the pompousness of her being that I can’t stand. We can all enjoy our weird selves, I’m all for that, but putting down 99.999999% of the population for not being your brand of weird is just you being an awful person.
Here’s our intrepid couple, ready for a spin around town. I’m already irritated and we haven’t even started.
She starts off with her elevator pitch. But I have five words: indoor plumbing and air conditioning. Also Pamprin and the ability to wear pants. That’s what makes me comfortable.
This seems extremely simplistic and silly. This is how time works. It’s called progress. I’m not disputing that the 19th century had some good ideas that were developed through the next century and into ours. Cars were around then, in some form, for instance. So was dentistry, but I think we all prefer Novocaine and cavity fillings. (Oh man, now I want to know if Victorian Couple allows for modern dentistry, or if they get their teeth pulled the old-fashioned way. IS THAT MORE COMFORTABLE FOR YOU, SARAH?)
*rolls eyes so far back it hurts*
Okay, I’m aware of the reenactment slang term of “farb” -- “participants who are perceived to exhibit indifference to historical authenticity, either from a material-cultural standpoint or in action.” I’m all for a good non-farb reenactment myself if it can be reasonably achieved, but honestly, we do what we can with the budgets and time we have. Authenticity is great and all, but get off your ridiculous high horse and calm down. Maybe I’ve been in community theater too long where we merely aim for the look of the period.
*more rolling of eyes*
I wonder if she’ll elaborate on what exactly was mocked and what bigoted stereotypes she’s talking about. Because this right here sounds like classic White People Whining.
Wait a minute. Victorians would have enjoyed a blackface minstrel show. So THAT would have been the authentic thing to do. You probably WOULD be more “comfortable” at a blackface minstrel show, Sarah.
In a way I can understand this, to a point. It's the bad constant joke about historians that they're always warning us not to repeat history and we do it anyway. People twist what they want from history for their own purposes. We're all guilty of this. Even you, Insufferable Victorian Couple. I bet we’ll find examples of this presently. But maybe I’d just prefer *actual* historians with credentials standing up for history, not necessarily the couple “born in the wrong time” who eschew modern conveniences because they find them too practical. (And I’m pretty sure people are already standing up for the past. At least, I definitely see it on Twitter whenever 45 says something referencing the past.)
And this is when we enter the realm of Too Intense for Reality. It's admirable to have strong convictions, but I'm failing to understand what they are. If the purpose is to teach the world about how the Victorians “really” lived, you’re kind of succeeding, I guess. By writing about how great your life if pretending you’re in the Victorian age you make your readers realize how much better off they are by NOT living in the 1880s. That's a teaching moment, right?
Y’all, I worked up a sweat and got my heart rate up just getting this together. And it’s just the intro. Hoo boy, we’re in for a ride.
