conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide a description for a book titled The Good Soldier about Jill, Chicago, Writer with the genre: Science Fiction & Fantasy, Fantasy.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Writer. Journalist. Creator. the author is a Chicago native and Columbia Chicago graduate. With a BA in fiction writing, she is a self-proclaimed geek, avid comic-con attendee, cosplayer, and professional karaoke singer. Jill is a seasoned writer, predominantly known for her interviews. She has worked for Unite4:Good magazine, where she cut her journalistic teeth with legend Dionne Warwick, a plethora of CEOs and various musical talent. A freelancer, she continues to work for the Sugar Gamers and The Geek Initiative as press and film critic. Currently, Jill is working on her fourth novel. Not keen on being traditional, it is also her fourth, vastly different genre to write in [street contemporary]. Though she favors pop-fic and chick lit, Jill also likes to write poetry, noir, and sci-fi/fantasy. She particularly loves exploring character studies. She writes first and foremost for her own entertainment. She hopes that by sharing her work with the world, she can also achieve the entertainment and enjoyment of others as well. Learn more at HouseOfFangirl.com
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide a description for a book titled The Good Soldier about Graham, Greene with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Classics.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: "One of the finest novels of our century." --Graham Greene
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the first five paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Good Soldier
  You haven't an idea of the queer old-fashionedness of Florence's aunts – the Misses Hurlbird, nor yet of her uncle. An extraordinarily lovable man, that Uncle John. Thin, gentle, and with a 'heart' that made his life very much what Florence's afterwards became. He didn't reside at Stamford; his home was in Waterbury where the watches come from. He had a factory there which, in our queer American way, would change its functions almost from year to year. For nine months or so it would manufacture buttons out of bone. Then it would suddenly produce brass buttons for coachmen's liveries. Then it would take a turn at embossed tin lids for candy boxes. The fact is that the poor old gentleman, with his weak and fluttering heart, didn't want his factory to manufacture anything at all. He wanted to retire. And he did retire when he was seventy. But he was so worried at having all the street boys in the town point after him and exclaim: 'There goes the laziest man in Waterbury!' that he tried taking a tour round the world. And Florence and a young man called Jimmy went with him. It appears from what Florence told me that Jimmy's function with Mr Hurlbird was to avoid exciting topics for him. He had to keep him, for instance, out of political discussions. For the poor old man was a violent Democrat in days when you might travel the world over without finding anything but a Republican. Anyhow, they went round the world.
  I think an anecdote is about the best way to give you an idea of what the old gentleman was like. For it is perhaps important that you should know what the old gentleman was; he had a great deal of influence in forming the character of my poor dear wife.
  Just before they set out from San Francisco for the South Seas old Mr Hurlbird said he must take something with him to make little presents to people he met on the voyage. And it struck him that the things to take for that purpose were oranges – because California is the orange country – and comfortable folding chairs. So he bought I don't know how many cases of oranges – the great cool California oranges, and half-a-dozen folding chairs in a special case that he always kept in his cabin. There must have been half a cargo of fruit.
  For, to every person on board the several steamers that they employed – to every person with whom he had so much as a nodding acquaintance, he gave an orange every morning. And they lasted him right round the girdle of this mighty globe of ours. When they were at North Cape, even, he saw on the horizon, poor dear thin man that he was, a lighthouse. 'Hello,' says he to himself, 'these fellows must be very lonely. Let's take them some oranges.' So he had a boatload of his fruit out and had himself rowed to the lighthouse on the horizon. The folding chairs he lent to any lady that he came across and liked or who seemed tired and invalidish on the ship. And so, guarded against his heart and having his niece with him, he went round the world...
  He wasn't obtrusive about his heart. You wouldn't have known he had one. He only left it to the physical laboratory at Waterbury for the benefit of science, since he considered it to be quite an extraordinary kind of heart. And the joke of the matter was that, when, at the age of eighty-four, just five days before poor Florence, he died of bronchitis there was found to be absolutely nothing the matter with that organ. It had certainly jumped or squeaked or something just sufficiently to take in the doctors, but it appears that that was because of an odd formation of the lungs. I don't much understand about these matters.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide four more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He had the very greatest admiration. He admired her for her truthfulness, for her cleanness of mind, and the clean-run-ness of her limbs, for her efficiency, for the fairness of her skin, for the gold of her hair, for her religion, for her sense of duty. It was a satisfaction to take her about with him.
  But she had not for him a touch of magnetism. I suppose, really, he did not love her because she was never mournful; what really made him feel good in life was to comfort somebody who would be darkly and mysteriously mournful. That he had never had to do for Leonora. Perhaps, also, she was at first too obedient. I do not mean to say that she was submissive – that she deferred, in her judgements, to his. She did not. But she had been handed over to him, like some patient medieval virgin; she had been taught all her life that the first duty of a woman is to obey. And there she was.
  In her, at least, admiration for his qualities very soon became love of the deepest description. If his pulses never quickened she, so I have been told, became what is called an altered being when he approached her from the other side of a dancing-floor. Her eyes followed him about full of trustfulness, of admiration, of gratitude, and of love. He was also, in a great sense, her pastor and guide – and he guided her into what, for a girl straight out of a convent, was almost heaven. I have not the least idea of what an English officer's wife's existence may be like. At any rate, there were feasts, and chatterings, and nice men who gave her the right sort of admiration, and nice women who treated her as if she had been a baby. And her confessor approved of her life, and Edward let her give little treats to the girls of the convent she had left, and the Reverend Mother approved of him. There could not have been a happier girl for five or six years.
  For it was only at the end of that time that clouds began, as the saying is, to arise. She was then about twenty-three, and her purposeful efficiency made her perhaps have a desire for mastery. She began to perceive that Edward was extravagant in his largesses. His parents died just about that time, and Edward, though they both decided that he should continue his soldiering, gave a great deal of attention to the management of Bramshaw through a steward. Aldershot was not very far away, and they spent all his leaves there.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Aldershot was not very far away, and they spent all his leaves there.. His parents died just about that time, and Edward, though they both decided that he should continue his soldiering, gave a great deal of attention to the management of Bramshaw through a steward. She began to perceive that Edward was extravagant in his largesses. She was then about twenty-three, and her purposeful efficiency made her perhaps have a desire for mastery.
  For it was only at the end of that time that clouds began, as the saying is, to arise. There could not have been a happier girl for five or six years. And her confessor approved of her life, and Edward let her give little treats to the girls of the convent she had left, and the Reverend Mother approved of him. At any rate, there were feasts, and chatterings, and nice men who gave her the right sort of admiration, and nice women who treated her as if she had been a baby. I have not the least idea of what an English officer's wife's existence may be like. He was also, in a great sense, her pastor and guide – and he guided her into what, for a girl straight out of a convent, was almost heaven. Her eyes followed him about full of trustfulness, of admiration, of gratitude, and of love. If his pulses never quickened she, so I have been told, became what is called an altered being when he approached her from the other side of a dancing-floor.
  In her, at least, admiration for his qualities very soon became love of the deepest description. And there she was. But she had been handed over to him, like some patient medieval virgin; she had been taught all her life that the first duty of a woman is to obey. She did not. I do not mean to say that she was submissive – that she deferred, in her judgements, to his. Perhaps, also, she was at first too obedient. That he had never had to do for Leonora. I suppose, really, he did not love her because she was never mournful; what really made him feel good in life was to comfort somebody who would be darkly and mysteriously mournful.
  But she had not for him a touch of magnetism. It was a satisfaction to take her about with him. He admired her for her truthfulness, for her cleanness of mind, and the clean-run-ness of her limbs, for her efficiency, for the fairness of her skin, for the gold of her hair, for her religion, for her sense of duty.He had the very greatest admiration
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: At times she imagined herself to see more than was warranted. She imagined that Edward was carrying on intrigues with other women – with two at once; with three. For whole periods she imagined him to be a monster of libertinage and she could not see that he could have anything against her. She left him his liberty; she was starving herself to build up his fortunes; she allowed herself none of the joys of femininity – no dresses, no jewels – hardly even friendships, for fear they should cost money.
  She had at that period what I will call the 'monstrous' theory of Edward. She was always imagining him ogling at every woman that he came across. She did not, that year, go into 'retreat' at Simla because she was afraid that he would corrupt her maid in her absence. She imagined him carrying on intrigues with native women or Eurasians. At dances she was in a fever of watchfulness...
  She persuaded herself that this was because she had a dread of scandals. Edward might get himself mixed up with a marriageable daughter of some man who would make a row or some husband who would matter. But, really, she acknowledged afterwards to herself, she was hoping that, Mrs Basil being out of the way, the time might have come when Edward should return to her. All that period she passed in an agony of jealousy and fear – the fear that Edward might really become promiscuous in his habits.
  So that, in an odd way, she was glad when Maisie Maidan came along – and she realized that she had not, before, been afraid of husbands and of scandals, since, then, she did her best to keep Maisie's husband unsuspicious. She wished to appear so trustful of Edward that Maidan could not possibly have any suspicions. It was an evil position for her. But Edward was very ill and she wanted to see him smile again. She thought that if he could smile again through her agency he might return, through gratitude and satisfied love – to her. At that time she thought that Edward was a person of light and fleeting passions. And she could understand Edward's passion for Maisie, since Maisie was one of those women to whom other women will allow magnetism.
  She was very pretty; she was very young; in spite of her heart she was very gay and light on her feet. And Leonora was really very fond of Maisie, who was fond enough of Leonora. Leonora, indeed, imagined that she could manage this affair all right. She had no thought of Maisie's being led into adultery; she imagined that if she could take Maisie and Edward to Nauheim, Edward would see enough of her to get tired of her pretty little chatterings, and of the pretty little motions of her hands and feet. And she thought she could trust Edward. For there was not any doubt of Maisie's passion for Edward. She raved about him to Leonora as Leonora had heard girls rave about drawing masters in schools. She was perpetually asking her boy husband why he could not dress, ride, shoot, play polo, or even recite sentimental poems, like their major. And young Maidan had the greatest admiration for Edward, and he adored, was bewildered by and entirely trusted his wife. It appeared to him that Edward was devoted to Leonora. And Leonora imagined that when poor Maisie was cured of her heart and Edward had seen enough of her, he would return to her. She had the vague, passionate idea that when Edward had exhausted a number of other types of women he must turn to her. Why should not her type have its turn in his heart? She imagined that, by now, she understood him better, that she understood better his vanities and that, by making him happier, she could arouse his love.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Why should not her type have its turn in his heart? She imagined that, by now, she understood him better, that she understood better his vanities and that, by making him happier, she could arouse his love.. She had the vague, passionate idea that when Edward had exhausted a number of other types of women he must turn to her. And Leonora imagined that when poor Maisie was cured of her heart and Edward had seen enough of her, he would return to her. It appeared to him that Edward was devoted to Leonora. And young Maidan had the greatest admiration for Edward, and he adored, was bewildered by and entirely trusted his wife. She was perpetually asking her boy husband why he could not dress, ride, shoot, play polo, or even recite sentimental poems, like their major. She raved about him to Leonora as Leonora had heard girls rave about drawing masters in schools. For there was not any doubt of Maisie's passion for Edward. And she thought she could trust Edward. She had no thought of Maisie's being led into adultery; she imagined that if she could take Maisie and Edward to Nauheim, Edward would see enough of her to get tired of her pretty little chatterings, and of the pretty little motions of her hands and feet. Leonora, indeed, imagined that she could manage this affair all right. And Leonora was really very fond of Maisie, who was fond enough of Leonora.
  She was very pretty; she was very young; in spite of her heart she was very gay and light on her feet. And she could understand Edward's passion for Maisie, since Maisie was one of those women to whom other women will allow magnetism. At that time she thought that Edward was a person of light and fleeting passions. She thought that if he could smile again through her agency he might return, through gratitude and satisfied love – to her. But Edward was very ill and she wanted to see him smile again. It was an evil position for her. She wished to appear so trustful of Edward that Maidan could not possibly have any suspicions.
  So that, in an odd way, she was glad when Maisie Maidan came along – and she realized that she had not, before, been afraid of husbands and of scandals, since, then, she did her best to keep Maisie's husband unsuspicious. All that period she passed in an agony of jealousy and fear – the fear that Edward might really become promiscuous in his habits. But, really, she acknowledged afterwards to herself, she was hoping that, Mrs Basil being out of the way, the time might have come when Edward should return to her. Edward might get himself mixed up with a marriageable daughter of some man who would make a row or some husband who would matter.
  She persuaded herself that this was because she had a dread of scandals... At dances she was in a fever of watchfulness. She imagined him carrying on intrigues with native women or Eurasians. She did not, that year, go into 'retreat' at Simla because she was afraid that he would corrupt her maid in her absence. She was always imagining him ogling at every woman that he came across.
  She had at that period what I will call the 'monstrous' theory of Edward. She left him his liberty; she was starving herself to build up his fortunes; she allowed herself none of the joys of femininity – no dresses, no jewels – hardly even friendships, for fear they should cost money. For whole periods she imagined him to be a monster of libertinage and she could not see that he could have anything against her. She imagined that Edward was carrying on intrigues with other women – with two at once; with three.At times she imagined herself to see more than was warranted
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the first five paragraphs for the book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Good Soldier
  Seaside towns in southeastern France and northwestern Italy, respectively, where many well-to-do English people spent the winter.
  Charles I, king of England, Scotland, and Ireland, was beheaded in 1649 after being convicted of treason for waging war against Parliament.
  In 1789, during the French Revolution, the populace attacked the royal palace of Versailles, arresting King Louis IV and his queen, Marie Antoinette; Trianon is the name of two small estates within the palace grounds.
  Biarritz: town on the coast of southwestern France; Las Tours: town in southern France known for its medieval castles.
  William the Silent: William I of Orange (1533-1584), Protestant Dutch statesman who sought independence for the Netherlands from Spain; Gustave the Loquacious: may be a reference to another Protestant ruler, King Gustavus I of Sweden (1496-1560), or perhaps just a joke of Ford's; Henri Fantin-Latour (1836-1904): celebrated French painter.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide four more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Allusion to English poet Alfred Lord Tennyson's 1842 poem "Morte d'Arthur" (line 234): "But now the whole round table is dissolved."
  Or Asclepius, Greek god of healing, to whom the serpent and the cock were sacred; Socrates, before he died, reputedly said he owed Aesculapius a sacrificial cock.
  That is, Marburg, about 35 miles from Nauheim, site of Europe's first Protestant university, founded in 1527 by Philip the Magnanimous (landgrave of Hesse), and of the 1529 Marburg Colloquy, a debate between religious reformers Martin Luther and Huldrych Zwingli. See the Introduction (pp. xxiv-xxix) for an explanation of this important conference and its significance to the novel.
  Wife of Ludwig (or Louis) IV of Thuringia (region of central Germany); after her husband's death, Elizabeth (1207--1231) moved to a small cottage in Marburg, where she built a Franciscan hospital and tended to the sick and poor. Her cult was opposed by Philip the Magnanimous.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the last paragraph.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Quotation from "Hymn to Proserpine," by English poet A. C. Swinburne (1837- 1909); the "pale Galilean" is Christ.