Keepin' it brief

Read: The French Lieutenant's Woman. A beautifully written book about existentialism. Sara Woodruff, not defined by Victorian convention. Lives her life, notwithstanding the contstraints of the period. Sometimes laugh-out-loud funny. Some twists in the plot. I'm not sure that I fully understand Sara, but she's what I'd like to think I am or would have been had I lived during that time. I'm not even close.

Read: The Checklist Manifesto, by Atul Gawande. It only made sense that because I read Gawande's other two books that I would read this one as well. A quick read that extolls the virtues of using checklists. Gawande makes the case for the use of checklists in all areas where the complexity has grown to exceed the abilty of one individual. He relies on examples from the world of finance, aviation, and construction to demonstrate the value of checklists. He makes the case, but probably could have done it just fine with fewer examples. I got themessage from the time I bought the book.

Listening to: Justice.
About to read: Gone With the Wind???

I Should'a posted!

I did finish some reading on my Christmas break. NJot a lot, but some.

The Girl Who Played with Fire, by Stieg Larson. A sequel to The Girl With the Dragon Tatoo, Lizabeth returns to prove that she's smarter than anyone I know. A hacker with perfect memory, she is at at the heart of the mystery surrounding the death of two new characters who were about to publish an expose/thesis about th white slave industry in Sweden. There is a Star Wars-like revelation and and an even more shocking twist. Parts are implausible, but I like that Larson creates stories about strong women, particuarly a strong woman who hates men who hate women. I'm looking forward to the next book. Sorry that there won't be more given Larson's death.

A Death in the Family, by James Agee. A short, but moving book about the death of a father in a car accident. The irony of his having traveled to his parents' house out of fear that hisown father was on his deathbed, only to find that his father was not. And then to be killed on the way home to his family, having promised his family that he would return. The anxious waiting following the call to the man's wife about the accident, without providing information about the condition of the victim. The initial shock and the questions about what happened. The telling of the children. The visit tothe funeral home. All are poetically described. Ultimately, the books serves as a reminder of how tenuous of a grasp on life any given individual has, and how interwoven are the lives of those who love that individual. Life is sweet even when it is hard.

Slow to post

Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf. An okay book about time passing in one day and the choices one makes through the years and the implications for the future. It was okay. I am tad bit upset that I left my copy on the plane after finishing in mid-November. Oh well.


Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov. A deeply disturbing book, beautifully written. Perhaps an explanation of how some pedophiles are born and how they think. In the end, tragic all around.

The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand. I can't say I agree with her philosophy, but the story itself was pretty darn good. A soap opera of sorts, full of lots of interesting and evil characters. And the quintessential hero, who can't be bought, Howard Rourke. There's much to be said for integrity and much to be said for striving to be the best and to view one's work as a vocation. Capitalism is without a doubt the best economic system, but it has its faults as well. Most men don't possess the integrity of a Rourke or the ability to do their best just because. Only a cruel society would leave its poor to the integrity of the rich and powerful. Rand may not have known Bernie Madoff, but there have always been Madoff-like people who are driven by pure greed, and it is often the poor that suffer the fall-out--the collateral damage of what those in power do.
But the story moves and as long as it is, it's a story that held my attention the whole way.

Babbitt by Sinclair Lewis. At the same time I was listening to The Fountainhead, I was reading Babbitt. Babbitt is the opposite of Rourke, more akin to Peter Keating in TheFountainhead, the kind of character who goes along to get along, always conforming and enjoying success as a result. Babbitt, however, does attempt to step out, but, Baby, it's cold out there, and Babbitt doesn't like living in exile. ULtimately, he rejoins the fold, but he knows that he has lost. There is hope in the end, for the next generation.

Currently listening to: The Girl Who Played with Fire, by Stieg Larsson.
Currently reading: A Death in the Family by James Agee.

Watch me now!

Look at me with my bad self. Okay, but it's been awhile since only a week has passed since my last post.

Brideshead Revisited, by Evelyn Waugh. A beautifully written book about grace, the disappearing aristocracy, famly dymanics, and goodness knows what else. Very complex characters, particularly Sebastian. Was Sebastian gay? Were Charles and Sebastian more than just "friends." How can Bridey get religion so wrong. He embodies much that is wrong with religion.

All of the characters changed; Nanny Hawkins is mostly the constant against whom all others are measured. In the end, Lord Marchmain seems to accept the religion he spent so much of his married life rejecting and even Charles seems more open to God's grace.

I tried to negotiate for a used copy of this book. The bookseller refused to give on the price because she rarely gets in used copies. "People tend to hang on to their copies." I have a better understanding of why.

Finally . . .

The Satanic Verses, by Salman Rushdie. Through most of this book, I felt like the ignoramus who visits an art museum. He knows the artwork is expensive, important, provocative, and so on. But he just doesn't get it. The back of The Satanic Verses described the book as erudite. I'm sure that's it. I'm now "erudite" enough to understand the allegory. The prose was beautiful. Salman's command of the language is quite impressive. Parts of it were laugh-out-loud funny. And there were many parts that were quite enjoyable.

I actually finished the book yesterday. Sleeping on it has helped me understand the interplay between good and evil and the fact that both dwell within individuals. I think I'll try to find time to review it so that I can pick up more than what I did in the six weeks it took me to finish it.

Either way, it will probably be awhile before I pick up Midnight's Children. BoilerBaby 1 loved that book, but I'll have to mentally prepare for it. Sort of like getting ready to run a marathon.

The Bridge of San Luis Rey, by Thornton Wilder. Jack McCoy reads The Bridge of San Luis Rey! That's what this audio book, read by Sam Waterston. A short book, about the lives of five people who died when a bridge collapsed, it raises questions about the nature of God and whether we can truly understand it, as well as reminds us how little we really know about the people we see and interact with daily. The story was set in a small community; everyone knew each other, at least by name. But yet they really didn't entirely. Complex lives in a simple setting. It was a beautiful story. Would have been better had it not been read by Sam Waterston.

Currently: Listening to Lolita. Started reading Brideshead Revisited.

A Bit Behind on the Posting

Well, I guess I forgot to record something, as in Things Fall Apart, by Chinua Achebe.


Things Fall Apart.

This was a fairly quick read, which I finished as we were moving BB2 to college. Unlike many (Western authors, Americans in particular, (Edith Wharton excluded) this author felt no need to provide a nicely wrapped happy ending. Things can come completely unraveled and unfixable at the occurrence of the unintentional events. So goes the story of the Okonkwo, who sees things fall apart when he inadvertently kills a member of his village. And things fall apart when Europeans, with the best of intentions, foist themselves on Africa. And so it goes.

Catch 22, by Joseph Heller. Maybe it's the time of the year, but for the past couple years at this time, I've been seemingly caught in "Audible Hell." That is, I'm listening to a book that takes inhuman effort to finish. Last year, it was The Brothers K. This year, it was Catch 22. However, unlike last year, when afater finishing TBK, I collapsed on the pavement, wondering if the marathon had been worth it, after finishing the marathon of C22, I fully understood why this is considered one of the great books of the 20th century.

It took a while for me to understand that unlike most novels, this book was composed of a series of anecdotes, with the plot line slowly unfolding over time. The absurdity of the military bureacracy is unfortunately played out in some of the large organizations I've known. The tragedies are poignant and the humanity of Yosarrian is a reminder of the importance of not losing one's own humanity. And part of the enjoyment of this book was identifying all of the Catch 22 situations. I'm not a fan of war literature in general, but this was a good read.

Wha's up now?

Reading: The Satanic Verses by Salman Rushdie.
Listening: The Bridge of San Luis Rey, by Thornton Wilder.

Working with a new goal

I'm trying to read the good stuff. Here goes.

The Corrections, by Jonathan Franzen. I delayed reading this book for years after the Oprah debaucle. So Franzen didn't want Oprah's "mark" plastered on his book. What a putz! But, given all the hype, coupled with the fact that I bought a used copy so Franzen didn't directly get a dime of my money. Plus, time heals all wounds--real or perceived. So the time had come to read this book billed by many as the "Great American Novel."

It was okay. It enjoyed a bit of a positive growth spurt in my opinion over the first couple of days after I finished it. But the growth spurt has ended, and it's still only a bit more than okay. A rather dysfunctional family, with a father suffering from Parkinson's and dementia; an idealistic, superficial mother suffering from denial; a controlling, money-grubbing elder son, married to a self-centered, manipulative bitch; a hapless second son; a talented, but misguided daughter in denial about her sexual orientation (like mother, like daughter). Mix the characters with a good dose of East Coast snobbery about the Midwest, and that's the basic idea. Some of the prose is quite clever, sometimes laugh-out-loud funny, but utlimately not enough to redeem it in my opinion.

Okay, so they start to make "corrections" in their lives as the story ends, after their last Christmas together that was quite a bit less than perfect. But, I suppose I'm just not literary enough to see the brilliance of this novel.

Of Mice and Men, by John Steinbeck. A quick read, with the kind of ending that I could see coming, but was still shocked when it happened. Was it the right thing for George to do to Lennie? Was it compassionate or cold-blooded murder? Was it the ultimate buddy story or something else? So many isolated people whose lives (as was the case in The Grapes of Wrath) just seem miserable, with no foreseeable way out. Good read.

Listening to: Catch 22.
Reading: Things Fall Apart.