<p>I figured Vida continually returned the petrol cans to the shed because they would be missed—that the petrol was actually used for something on a regular basis. (Wasn’t it used to light the lamps in those days?) Hiding the cans in the library was preferable to pouring them out because she could still fetch one when needed. That’s a possible explanation anyway—of course, more than likely it’s just a plot device that ensures one heck of a fire in the library.</p>
<p>^^^ I realized after I asked/typed the questions that I was looking at things from the reader’s perspective (obviously) – so I knew ahead of time there was going to be a fire. Vida didn’t have that pre-knowledge. And of course the only reason the petrol was there in the first place was that it was used for something! Duh!!</p>
<p>Another timing clue from my re-reading – at the time of the fire, a fire engine and ambulance arrived.</p>
<p>I wondered about the fire engine and ambulance, too, but figured that they had to be horsedrawn. The fire is set in Vida’s childhood, and even if our date guessing is off by a decade, her childhood must have been before cars, because it takes place 60 years prior to Margaret’s story.</p>
<p>What did you think of Dr. Clifton, the peripheral character who has a “thing” for Margaret? At the end of the novel, there is the suggestion that he is going to woo her, but Margaret, as narrator, never addresses this directly. Is she genuinely clueless or just being coy?</p>
<p>Wait ! ^^^ doesn’t she go live with him at the end?</p>
<p>Yes, she does, but she acts like she is just going there on a visit to help her cat get acclimated to its new home. I didn’t feel like she had any sense that it was a (potentially) romantic situation.</p>
<p>I don’t have a copy of the book here, so I am trying to recall the ending, and I wanted to ask you opinion about that.
After I finished the book, which I raced through to solve the many mysteries, I thought the writer did skillful job of making it a tidy, neat, ending with each character’s fate resolved.
The Thirteenth Tale, had a fairy tale ending with everyone living “happily ever after”, and I liked the closure.</p>
<p>I thought Margaret moved to the village to be with the Dr, with whom she bonded while caring for Vida. At the beginning of the book, she was depicted as a bookish, spinster, and at the end she found companionship with the Dr., moved out of her parents house, and would no longer be so lonely.</p>
<p>You are right Mary, Setterfeld probably insinuated this would become a romantic relationship without stating it outright.
I assumed they would become a couple, romantic or not, they would be happy sharing their love of books.</p>
<p>Mary (and, others) Did you have a good feeling or understanding of Margaret’s relationship with her parents?
Do you think her relationship with her parents was depicted by the author as cold and distant, because in the end she would be leaving them?
Do you think the loneliness she felt within that depressed family, explains her retreat into books, and the escape that offered her?</p>
<p>I agree with your summary of the “tidy” ending, and Margaret’s companionable relationship with the doctor. That’s how I saw it, too. Margaret and Vida are at opposite ends of the spectrum, aren’t they? One lives a low-key life, with as little drama as possible and an understated romance; the other is all about the drama–telling a story of abandonment, insanity, obsessive love, and violent death. </p>
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<p>Absolutely. The “real” world didn’t have much appeal for Margaret. I thought her relationship with her father was close and loving, but she had no relationship at all with her mother. Seems like she never even tried to bridge that gap. I confess I got a little irritated with Margaret when she would make disparaging comments about her mother. Her tone was somewhat self-pitying at times. I wanted to say, “You’re a grown woman—if you don’t like your relationship with your mother, do something about it!” I felt bad for Margaret’s father as the go-between, trying to keep two cheerless women moderately happy.</p>
<p>OK, I finished re-reading the ending of the book. My impression is that at the very end Margaret is packing for a month long visit with Dr. Clifton, taking Shadow (the cat), who missed the moors. There is the implication that Margaret will stay longer/get married. While she is packing her sister comes to “visit” her, leaving her peaceful for the first time in her life. Also, Margaret muses about the possibility of trying to reconnect with her mother, wondering if it’s too late.</p>
<p>How old do you think Margaret is?</p>
<p>CBB," Also, Margaret muses about the possibility of trying to reconnect with her mother, wondering if it’s too late."</p>
<p>I missed that CBB. So Setterfeld resolves that issue, too! I thought Margaret may have been in her 30’s? Maybe late 30’s? </p>
<p>Mary, I felt exactly as you did about Margaret a grown woman, who displayed very little sympathy for her mother who clearly suffered deeply, from her loss,too. Margaret was quite self centered when speaking about her Mother, and I too, thought “grow up”. </p>
<p>Mary you wrote “One lives a low-key life, with as little drama as possible and an understated romance; the other is all about the drama–telling a story of abandonment, insanity, obsessive love, and violent death.”
I agree Vida hid dramatic secrets, but Margaret may have shared more with her than at first glance.
Margaret- story of abandonment- loss of twin sister, Mother’s retreat, a type of abandonment
Insanity----didn’t Margaret think she was “unstable” because she would see visions of her sister?
Obsessive Love- this is stretching it, but wasn’t Margaret’s longing for her twin sort of obsessive, and that had to be resolved for her to “move on”
Violent Death- surgery to remove conjoined twin, and her scar which constantly reminded her of her sister’s death ? </p>
<p>I don’t want to overthink this, but all those “dramas” seemed applicable to Margaret’s small life.</p>
<p>^ You’re right! As you’ve laid it out, Margaret and Vida are like…twins! Setterfield reinforces her “mirror” motif yet again.</p>
<p>O.K. – Christmas is nearly upon us, which means book chat time must be sacrificed for trim-the-tree/wrap-the-gifts time!</p>
<p>A recap–here’s what we’ve read so far:</p>
<p>The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows
Dreamers of the Day by Mary Doria Russell
Sarah’s Key by Tatiana de Rosnay
American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld
The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield
…and next is
The Help by Kathryn Stockett</p>
<p>One thing jumps out at me: Every selection was written by a woman. Maybe next time—after The Help– we should do something radical and read a book by a male author.</p>
<p>Per SouthJerseyChessMom’s suggestion, let’s try beginning The Help discussion on a weekend. If we leave January as the month to read (and recuperate from the holidays), should discussion begin the first Saturday in February (Feb 6th)? Or perhaps the second Saturday (Feb. 13th?) Any thoughts?</p>
<p>My other bookclub a little out of sinc, but we have a few lined up.</p>
<p>The Elegance of the Hedgehog–M Barberry (about a French concierge, recommended by a retired Fr college prof) </p>
<p>New York, the novel–edw Rutherford</p>
<p>the outliers–gladwell</p>
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<p>I think Margaret understands that Dr. Clifton intends to woo her. She expresses concern to Dr. Clifton that Shadow would be happiest in Yorkshire, yet she herself can’t give Shadow up. Dr. Clifton indicates that perhaps the solution to the conundrum will present itself by the end of her visit - to the satisfaction of all involved. I took that to mean that Shadow would stay with Dr. Clifton as would Margaret herself. </p>
<p>(Just finished the book this morning. :))</p>
<p>Future book club suggestion - by a male author: The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie - Alan Bradley. (I haven’t read this, but have seen it recommended on more than one occasion.)</p>
<p>Library Journal: An 11-year-old solving a dastardly murder in the English countryside in 1950 wouldn’t seem to be everyone’s cup of tea. But Flavia Sabina de Luce is no ordinary child: she’s already an accomplished chemist, smart enough to escape being imprisoned by her older sisters and to exact revenge, forthright and fearless to the point of being foolhardy, and relentless in defending those she loves. When she spies on her father arguing heatedly with a strange man late at night and the next morning finds that man buried in the cucumber patch, she sets out, riding her bicycle named Gladys, to make sense of it all. And when her father-a philatelist and widower for a decade who still mourns his wife-is arrested, Flavia’s efforts are intensified. She delves into the backstory, involving the death of her father’s beloved teacher years earlier and the loss of a rare stamp, and puts together the pieces almost too late. The stiff-upper-lip de Luce family is somewhat stereotypically English, but precocious Flavia is unique. Winner of the Debut Dagger Award, this is a fresh, engaging first novel with appeal for cozy lovers and well beyond. </p>
<p>Publisher’s Weekly review: Fans of Louise Fitzhugh’s iconic Harriet the Spy will welcome 11-year-old sleuth Flavia de Luce, the heroine of Canadian journalist Bradley’s rollicking debut. In an early 1950s English village, Flavia is preoccupied with retaliating against her lofty older sisters when a rude, redheaded stranger arrives to confront her eccentric father, a philatelic devotee. Equally adept at quoting 18th-century works, listening at keyholes and picking locks, Flavia learns that her father, Colonel de Luce, may be involved in the suicide of his long-ago schoolmaster and the theft of a priceless stamp. The sudden expiration of the stranger in a cucumber bed, wacky village characters with ties to the schoolmaster, and a sharp inspector with doubts about the colonel and his enterprising young detective daughter mean complications for Flavia and enormous fun for the reader. Tantalizing hints about a gardener with a shady past and the mysterious death of Flavia’s adventurous mother promise further intrigues ahead. (Apr.)</p>
<p>School Library Journal: Adult/High School-When a stranger shows up dying in her family’s cucumber patch in the middle of the night, 11-year-old Flavia de Luce expands her interests from chemistry and poisons to sleuthing and local history. The youngest of a reclusive widower’s three daughters, Flavia is accustomed to independence and takes delight in puzzles and “what if’s.” She is well suited to uncovering the meaning of the dead snipe left at the kitchen door, the story behind the bright orange Victorian postage stamps, and-eventually-the identity of the murderer and his relationship to the dying man. Bradley sets the protagonist on a merry course that includes contaminating her oldest sister’s lipstick with poison ivy, climbing the bell tower of the local boys’ school, and sifting through old newspapers in the village library’s outbuilding. Flavia is brave and true and hilarious, and the murder mystery is clever and satisfying. Set in 1950, the novel reads like a product of that time, when stories might include insouciance but relative innocence, pranks without swear words, and children who were not so overscheduled or frightened that they couldn’t make their way quite nicely in chatting up the police or the battle-shocked family retainer. Mystery fans, Anglophiles, and science buffs will delight in this book and may come away with a slightly altered view of what is possible for a headstrong girl to achieve.</p>
<p>ignatius—glad you finished the book! I think you’re right about the Margaret-Dr. Clifton resolution. By the way, I was amused by Dr. Clifton’s “prescription” for Margaret earlier in the novel—The Case Book of Sherlock Holmes. Understanding Vida’s story requires a lot of sleuthing, so it’s an appropriate choice.</p>
<p>Thanks ignatius and bookworm for the suggestions. I’ve heard a lot of good things about *The Elegance of the Hedgehog<a href=“another%20female%20author!”>/i</a> I didn’t know anything about The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie—sounds like a fun read.</p>
<p>I read The Thirteenth Tale for book club at my school, and honestly I can’t see its appeal. While there are certain sections of the novel that showed commendable insight and skill, I felt that the choppy syntax that worked well for Cormac McCarthy does not for her topic. The dreams in which Margaret meets her twin are cliche and unbelievable, and I couldn’t prevent myself, despite my efforts, from bursting out laughing</p>
<p>My final appraisal: a book with little entertainment value and little literary value.</p>
<p>The floor is open for debate.</p>
<p>I have to admit I wasn’t entirely comfortable with what I view as Margaret’s unhealthy obsession with her deceased twin. IMO the tale 
would have been just as strong without it - and it made Margaret seem a bit odd for my taste. I guess I finally chalked it up to the fact that the twins were joined at birth and when separated one had to die, the secrecy surrounding the birth and death, and the inability of the mother to cope (which I believe was exacerbated by the secrecy). But still … </p>
<p>I thought maybe it was just me finding Margaret’s obsession a note that didn’t ring true. My older sisters were identical triplets (rare) and one died a few days after birth. I just can’t picture either of my twin sisters feeling lost without the infant sister who died - before memories of life together could be made. And my mother mourned the loss of the baby yet had two others she needed to nurture. Life moves on. So I kinda wrinkled my nose whenever the story took a dysfunctional Margaret tone; it just didn’t add that much to the story to me. I wanted to say “I mean - REALLY.”</p>
<p>To a different topic: I read *The Guernsey Literary … * and The Thirteenth Tale both and was struck by similarities between the two.</p>
<p>Both protagonists used the written word to make a living and literary references wound through both books. (Added to my enjoyment.)</p>
<p>Both traveled to a unfamiliar locale to pursue a story to write, and in doing so became detectives of sorts needing to search out the truth behind their respective stories.</p>
<p>Both became attached to the locale and its inhabitants and their stories became a labor of love. </p>
<p>Both protagonists grew personally as a result of their work.</p>
<p>Me - I liked The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society better than The Thirteenth Tale, probably because I enjoyed seeing the joy of life that the main character had and her comfort interacting with everyone around her.</p>
<p>Good choices of books though. I’m glad I read both.</p>
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<p>^ darkblademaster, I think ghostfire13 (post #7) wasn’t too thrilled with the book either, but your post is definitely the strongest “anti” I‘ve seen.</p>
<p>I can’t exactly argue the entertainment value position because that’s so subjective. (Years ago, my brother gave me A Winter’s Tale by Mark Helprin. He thought it was fabulous; Amazon called it a “gorgeous masterpiece.” I couldn’t even finish it. There’s no accounting for tastes, as they say.) In one of Diane Setterfield’s interviews (see post #55), she said that her advice to writers was, “write the book you most want to read.” Given the success of the novel, I’d guess that that gothic mystery/romance is the type of book that many people want to read. </p>
<p>I would agree that the book isn’t a literary classic—we’re not talking about To Kill a Mockingbird or Grapes of Wrath here—but I do believe it has literary value. As we discussed the book, I developed a greater appreciation for Setterfield’s writing, as the abundance of literary allusions became more apparent. It’s not only Charlotte Bronte that influenced The Thirteenth Tale, but also Andre Gide, Gustav Flaubert, Anton Chekhov and Henry James. So, Setterfield is not a hack. (I was tempted to end that sentence with, “…like Dan Brown,” but I’ll be nice.) </p>
<p>Setterfield discusses some of her influences here: [Diane</a> Setterfield - An interview with author](<a href=“Diane Setterfield author interview”>Diane Setterfield author interview)</p>
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<p>ignatius, that’s funny–I actually thought about Dreamers of the Day rather than Guernsey while I was reading TT. I thought both Agnes and Margaret had a similar melancholy to them—and they both had mother issues. They were also both women who’d lived fairly stagnant lives and then were given an opportunity for a great adventure (Agnes’ was more physical, Margaret’s emotional).</p>