Remember our school days? Remember those dreary passages we had to read and read again - between the lines and over and under them? Remember wondering how could the study of language be so dry? Well, it turns out, what we were served was high in protein, but pretty much devoid of spice and juice. Let me set the record straight. Essays are fun. Read A Book of English Essays to see if I'm right.
As the name says, it is a collection of small essays on a multitude of topics by the who's-who of English literature - Francis Bacon, Joseph Addison, Charles Lamb, Leigh Hunt, A.A. Milne, R.L. Stevenson - honestly the list is quite scary. But once you pull your head out of the table of contents, it's a treasure mine.
Most essays are short, possibly the length of a newspaper article (which is how they must have been originally published I think). What is interesting though, is the topics they are on. So there are absolutely gorgeous ones like 'Getting Up on Cold Mornings' by Leigh Hunt, and wistfully funny ones like 'The Tombs in Westminster Abbey' by Joseph Addison. The length of the pieces makes the matter easier. The language is certainly pretty archaic and sometimes, you'll have to grit your teeth and re-read, even when you realise that something funny is coming up.
This is not to say that the essays are strictly relevant to the times. There does exist bigotry, possibly in keeping with the times when they had been penned. It is uncomfortable for me to suggest that you ignore them and move on to the good stuff. The good side is that there is ample choice to dabble in.
Of course, this is a pleasant bedtime read. It doesn't slack, nor does it move like a thriller. It's just how we wished our own essays had been in school; fun to write and to read.
P.S. The photograph of my copy is a terribly battered one that I had bought from the mind-bogglingly stocked second-hand bookstore Blossom in Bangalore.
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