My nineteenth century literature book group selection for May and June was a classic of Japanese literature, I am a Cat by Soseki Natsume (1906; I read a 1961 translation by Katsue Shibata and Motonari Kai published by Kenkyusha Ltd, Tokyo). In the novel, a cat offers his interpretation of Japanese society, and his observations on humans, their mannerisms, and actions. The anthropologist in me hoped the book would be a solid depiction of Japanese society just before transportation innovations made travel to Japan easy, when traditional ways may still have held sway over western encroachment. The book was originally serialized, and published in three volumes, and this reader found that it suffered for that. The repetition of the same event over and over is not surprising given the cat's limited ability to move. However, the first half, which I confess is all I read, can be summarized thus: teacher and cat nap, teacher's friend (or sometimes 2 friends) visits and make(s) inane comment, teacher reacts or doesn't, occasionally teacher's wife makes a comment. This probably worked much better serialized, and with enough time between published pieces that the similarity of content was not so obvious. Although a few insights into Japanese domestic life at the time are present, it was not enough to keep my interest, and I was embarrassed tot ell the group I gave up June 30. It's not a difficult book to red, just tedious because of the repetition of theme and content.
Murder at Rough Point by Alyssa Maxwell was the beginning of my summer light reading. A historical mystery set in Newport, Rhode Island, in 1896, the time of the Vanderbilts and the Gilded Age. The author uses historical figures, or, at least one, to add color (in this case, Edith Wharton is a character), and while I've never read a biography of Wharton, I know enough about her to accept this characterization of her. The description of the house, grounds, and weather were well done. The characters were suitably fleshed out, even minor ones. But I still wasn't swept away, they way I'd hoped, to another time and place. The main character, Emma Cross, is a relation of the Vanderbilts, but has a very modern job as a reporter. While I didn't find that part of her life at all convincing, at least her relationship with her parents seemed realistic, and her reaction to their reappearance in her life after many years abroad suitably angst-ridden. I always hate when historical authors try to inject modern elements into their stories (I sincerely doubt that even a distant relation of the Vanderbilts would have known her Uncle Vanderbilt's servants, probably not even their names beyond the butler's and housekeeper's); the term proactive was not coined until 1930, and while I didn't know that when I read it, it sounded far too modern and caused me to look it up (easily done even in the old days with a dictionary); ditto the phrase "hard news," another creation of the 1930s. So while the atmosphere is pretty good, the inclusion of modern terms and behavior were jarring, and creating a blatantly unrealistic event just to put Emma in danger was weak. Also there were too many allusions to previous entries in the series without explanation, which left this reader, who often jumps into a series mid-stream, disgruntled. I am of the firm opinion that any reader should be able to pick up any book, even one in the middle of a long series, and not be confused by or annoyed by mentions of previous actions or incidents that aren't explained.
1896 Newport seemed far more foreign to me than 1906 Japan.