Magyk: Septimus Heap, by ??? The Harry Potter is arguably one of those once-in-a-lifetime phenomenons, so I'd be crazy to expect that anything would or could match Harry Potter for plot, character, or overall imagination. But I'd hoped that this might be good enough. The best that I can say is that it was okay enough. The son of the seventh son, hence Septimus, is at the heart of this book. It doesn't take too long to figure out who among the characters is the real Septimus, given that Septimus allegedly died at birth--so much for suspense. And there's too little character development to cause me to care about really any of the characters. Jenna or the Queenling? Seems nice enough, but other than that she is the adopted daughter of the Heaps who looks nothing like them, there's not much more to say. Nicko? He's one of the Heaps, and he knows his way around a boat, but so? Marcia, the ExtraOrdinary Wizard? Other than that there's only one, who gets the penthouse suite of the Wizard's Tower, it's not clear how the ExtraOrdinary Wizard is different from the Ordinary Ones.
Maybe it's not fair to compare Septimus Heap to the Harry Potter series, but when I think of what I knew after the first book, I understood that Hermione was a know-it-all with the brains to back it up, and even in the first book, her character developed as she learned to moderate her annoying know-it-allness. I understood the charcters of Fred and George Weasley. It was clear that Ron felt the insecurity of being the youngest son in an old wizarding family. Heck, even Neville Longbottom was drawn well enough that I felt like I knew him because I had known kids like him growing up. Not to mention that the creatures JKR created were not only creative, they existed to push the story further. Plus, Harry Potter appealed to both kids and adults.
Maybe the other books in the Magyk series will accomplish more of the things I was looking for, but ultimately, this first one was a book that I could put down quite easily, and it did not spark my interest enough to want to read the others in the series.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
2(Jane Austen) + Perry.
Well, I finished Sense and Sensibility, and then, since I was in "Jane Austen mode," I figured I might as well go ahead and read Emma. But one can stay in JAM only so long before one has to return to the non-JAM world. That's where, The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog, comes in. So here goes.
Sense and Sensibility. I did it! I finally finished this book, having started it a couple of times before becoming distracted during the first chapter. I liked it, but hadn't gotten far enough into it to feel compelled to finish it when life (and other books) got in the way. Anywho, I enjoyed it. Typical Jane Austen fare, where much of the tension centers around young women who must find a spouse or risk eternal vulnerability. And as is so often clear in JA books, even marriage is no guaranty of security, as Mrs. Dashwood finds out when her husband leaves the vast majority of his property to his son from his first marriage, notwithstanding that the son already has a house in London and is well-provided for, leaving his three daughters and their mother essentially without a home. Of course there is the rogue man (Willoughby) who toys with Maryann's affections. And in this book, we get the rogue female, if you will, in the form of Lucy Steele, who dashes Elinor's hopes for domestic happiness by disclosing that she is secretly engaged to Edward Ferrars, whom Elinor hoped to bag--I mean marry. It all works out in the end as both women end up with the right man--Ferrars in Elinor's case, and Col. Whathisface in Maryann's case. Elinor who is "sense" in the beginning becomes more sensible, and Maryann who is "sensibility" develops (finally) good sense. The one thing you can count on is that everyone will marry happily in the end, and have enough income to have servants. Life is good.
Emma. Yet another book that I started but only now finished. Poor (or rather rich), determined Emma, the neighborhood "matchmaker." Having fixed up her governess, she is convinced that she can do the same for Harriet, a girl with no known parentage and limited means. As one would expect, it all goes awry, to the despair of Harriet. And then there's Frank Churchill, whom Emma takes great delight in using him as her sounding board as she bad-mouths Jane Fairfax, of whom, at bottom, Emma is jealous of. What a surprise she ultimately has coming about the real deal between Jane Fairfax and Churchill. And although Emma is determined to remain single, in part to care for her invalid father, in the end, we know, it's JA! There will be a marriage, and in fact, there are three: Emma, Harriet, and Jane all find their true loves. And they're all going to be mostly fat and happy.
Having read two JABs back-to-back, I find myself torn about whether I like JA or not. I like the stories, and there are complex themes, and even a hint of feminism at times. JA was one of the gentry and her characters live in that world. The servants exist only to serve and to provide a tidbit of gossip from time-to-time. On the other hand, the portrait of the rich is not particularly complimentary. They sometimes come across as insensitive and self-centered, or even shallow--after all Frank Churchill rides off to London (16 miles!) simply to get a haircut. That's seems extreme even today! They mostly do nothing, except sitting around playing cards, eating, and gossiping. In the end, I like Jane Austen, but I feel like a traitor or an outsider. She didn't write about people like me by any stretch of a comparison. But I suppose I'll eventually read the only JA novel that remains to be read, i.e, Northanger Abbey. Indeed, I'll probably even re-read most if not all of them.
The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog by Dr. Bruce Perry. A friend, who adopted an older child, recommended this book, and I have her to thank for it. Perry is a child psychiatrist/researcher who used this book to illustrate some his principles and findings regarding children who have suffered very difficult childhoods.
One chapter addresses how they addressed the needs of the Branch Davidian children during the seige and in the months thereafter and what they learned about children from that disaster. He talks about a two boys, one from a middle-class family and one from a poor family, with a mentally challenged mother, both of whom were left totally unattended during the first months of their lives and how it impacted their futures. Their needs for food and shelter were met, but they missed the warm touch and rhythm that comes from a care-giver who rocked and cooed to the children. There's the little girl who, despite her high caloric diet, failed to gain weight and was thought to be the first documented case of infant anorexia. As it turns out, her mother, who loved her dearly and sought help for her, had never been mothered herself as a child in the foster care system who had been moved every six months so that she wouldn't form any attachments. She didn't know how to form an attachment with her own daughter, and thus, the child failed to thrive. Mama P. was the answer--a foster parent who intuitively knew that damaged children need to be rocked and babied to make up for what they missed without concern for their chronological age.
And of course, there's the boy who was raised as a dog. After his grandmother died, her live-in boyfriend, who knew little about raising children, treated him like a dog. He wasn't cruel, he just failed to provide the boy with what he needed.
In short, the thesis of the book is the importance of patterned, repetitive conduct to help children form the attachments that they need to grow up to be healthy adults. In addition, he gives a glimpse in how he and those in his clinic go about helping children. He does a lot of coloring with the kids. It allows them to begin the therapy at their own pace.
Perry appears to be a phenomenal shrink, with uncommon insight. A bit arrogant, but with the intelligence and the success to back it up. Ultimately, the value comes in helping me to understand some of the things we've learned about the children we've fostered. Time well spent.
Sense and Sensibility. I did it! I finally finished this book, having started it a couple of times before becoming distracted during the first chapter. I liked it, but hadn't gotten far enough into it to feel compelled to finish it when life (and other books) got in the way. Anywho, I enjoyed it. Typical Jane Austen fare, where much of the tension centers around young women who must find a spouse or risk eternal vulnerability. And as is so often clear in JA books, even marriage is no guaranty of security, as Mrs. Dashwood finds out when her husband leaves the vast majority of his property to his son from his first marriage, notwithstanding that the son already has a house in London and is well-provided for, leaving his three daughters and their mother essentially without a home. Of course there is the rogue man (Willoughby) who toys with Maryann's affections. And in this book, we get the rogue female, if you will, in the form of Lucy Steele, who dashes Elinor's hopes for domestic happiness by disclosing that she is secretly engaged to Edward Ferrars, whom Elinor hoped to bag--I mean marry. It all works out in the end as both women end up with the right man--Ferrars in Elinor's case, and Col. Whathisface in Maryann's case. Elinor who is "sense" in the beginning becomes more sensible, and Maryann who is "sensibility" develops (finally) good sense. The one thing you can count on is that everyone will marry happily in the end, and have enough income to have servants. Life is good.
Emma. Yet another book that I started but only now finished. Poor (or rather rich), determined Emma, the neighborhood "matchmaker." Having fixed up her governess, she is convinced that she can do the same for Harriet, a girl with no known parentage and limited means. As one would expect, it all goes awry, to the despair of Harriet. And then there's Frank Churchill, whom Emma takes great delight in using him as her sounding board as she bad-mouths Jane Fairfax, of whom, at bottom, Emma is jealous of. What a surprise she ultimately has coming about the real deal between Jane Fairfax and Churchill. And although Emma is determined to remain single, in part to care for her invalid father, in the end, we know, it's JA! There will be a marriage, and in fact, there are three: Emma, Harriet, and Jane all find their true loves. And they're all going to be mostly fat and happy.
Having read two JABs back-to-back, I find myself torn about whether I like JA or not. I like the stories, and there are complex themes, and even a hint of feminism at times. JA was one of the gentry and her characters live in that world. The servants exist only to serve and to provide a tidbit of gossip from time-to-time. On the other hand, the portrait of the rich is not particularly complimentary. They sometimes come across as insensitive and self-centered, or even shallow--after all Frank Churchill rides off to London (16 miles!) simply to get a haircut. That's seems extreme even today! They mostly do nothing, except sitting around playing cards, eating, and gossiping. In the end, I like Jane Austen, but I feel like a traitor or an outsider. She didn't write about people like me by any stretch of a comparison. But I suppose I'll eventually read the only JA novel that remains to be read, i.e, Northanger Abbey. Indeed, I'll probably even re-read most if not all of them.
The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog by Dr. Bruce Perry. A friend, who adopted an older child, recommended this book, and I have her to thank for it. Perry is a child psychiatrist/researcher who used this book to illustrate some his principles and findings regarding children who have suffered very difficult childhoods.
One chapter addresses how they addressed the needs of the Branch Davidian children during the seige and in the months thereafter and what they learned about children from that disaster. He talks about a two boys, one from a middle-class family and one from a poor family, with a mentally challenged mother, both of whom were left totally unattended during the first months of their lives and how it impacted their futures. Their needs for food and shelter were met, but they missed the warm touch and rhythm that comes from a care-giver who rocked and cooed to the children. There's the little girl who, despite her high caloric diet, failed to gain weight and was thought to be the first documented case of infant anorexia. As it turns out, her mother, who loved her dearly and sought help for her, had never been mothered herself as a child in the foster care system who had been moved every six months so that she wouldn't form any attachments. She didn't know how to form an attachment with her own daughter, and thus, the child failed to thrive. Mama P. was the answer--a foster parent who intuitively knew that damaged children need to be rocked and babied to make up for what they missed without concern for their chronological age.
And of course, there's the boy who was raised as a dog. After his grandmother died, her live-in boyfriend, who knew little about raising children, treated him like a dog. He wasn't cruel, he just failed to provide the boy with what he needed.
In short, the thesis of the book is the importance of patterned, repetitive conduct to help children form the attachments that they need to grow up to be healthy adults. In addition, he gives a glimpse in how he and those in his clinic go about helping children. He does a lot of coloring with the kids. It allows them to begin the therapy at their own pace.
Perry appears to be a phenomenal shrink, with uncommon insight. A bit arrogant, but with the intelligence and the success to back it up. Ultimately, the value comes in helping me to understand some of the things we've learned about the children we've fostered. Time well spent.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Ending the year on serious note
The Emperor of All Maladies, by Siddhartha Mukharjee.
Can a book about cancer really be compelling without being depressing? Um, yeah. The New York Times listed this book as one of the best of 2010, so I figured why not. An biography of cancer--what an intriguing concept. And Mukharjee does recount cancer from its earliest known roots to the present day. It is, as any biogrpahy must be, a recount of history. But more than any biography of a living person, it is the science behind a living cell in which something has gone terribly wrong. Mukharjee recounts the theories over time that have explained cancer, from black bile to the current understanding of a cell mutation. Not surprising, treatment has changed as understading has grown. On the other hand, as much as scientists have learned, there is still so much not known or understood about cancers.
Perhaps the most startling thing is how much of what is conventional knowledge now has been discovered only within my lifetime. For example, until the 1960s, the deforming radical mastectomy was fairly standard treatment for all breast cancers, even though there'd been little to no research to confirm its effectiveness or even its necessity. Indeed, many of the research methods that are fairly common-place have been in use for only a relativly short time. For example, one expects that a cancer diagnosis today means surgery, followed immediately by a cocktail of different chemotherapy drugs and/or radiation. As I learned when reading Death Be Not Proud, chemotherapy had its genesis in WW2 and the experience with mustard gas. But for many years, there was an ongoing rivalry and lack of cooperation between surgeons, whose hubris made them unwilling to consider any other form of treatment beyond surgery, and oncologists. Plus, until recently, different treatments were tried serially, moving to the next one when treatment failed (e.g. surgery, followed by one chemo drug, followed by another chemo drug, etc.) Only recently have scientists really grasped that there is no cure for cancer, but there will have to be many cures for many different cancers.
In short, what becomes abundantly clear is that cancer is daunting. According to the author, 1 in 3 women and 1 in 2 men will be diagnosed with cancer during their lifetimes. Gains have been made towards cure, but many people will still die after suffering through dibillitating treatment. But there is hope that with greater understanding of how cancer works, there will be other successes like Gleevic, used to put victims of chronic myeloma leukemia into permanent remission, and Herceptin, which cures those women with estrogen-dependent cancer.
It was a compelling book. I couldn't put it down.
Currently reading: Sense and Sensibility, by Jane Austen.
Can a book about cancer really be compelling without being depressing? Um, yeah. The New York Times listed this book as one of the best of 2010, so I figured why not. An biography of cancer--what an intriguing concept. And Mukharjee does recount cancer from its earliest known roots to the present day. It is, as any biogrpahy must be, a recount of history. But more than any biography of a living person, it is the science behind a living cell in which something has gone terribly wrong. Mukharjee recounts the theories over time that have explained cancer, from black bile to the current understanding of a cell mutation. Not surprising, treatment has changed as understading has grown. On the other hand, as much as scientists have learned, there is still so much not known or understood about cancers.
Perhaps the most startling thing is how much of what is conventional knowledge now has been discovered only within my lifetime. For example, until the 1960s, the deforming radical mastectomy was fairly standard treatment for all breast cancers, even though there'd been little to no research to confirm its effectiveness or even its necessity. Indeed, many of the research methods that are fairly common-place have been in use for only a relativly short time. For example, one expects that a cancer diagnosis today means surgery, followed immediately by a cocktail of different chemotherapy drugs and/or radiation. As I learned when reading Death Be Not Proud, chemotherapy had its genesis in WW2 and the experience with mustard gas. But for many years, there was an ongoing rivalry and lack of cooperation between surgeons, whose hubris made them unwilling to consider any other form of treatment beyond surgery, and oncologists. Plus, until recently, different treatments were tried serially, moving to the next one when treatment failed (e.g. surgery, followed by one chemo drug, followed by another chemo drug, etc.) Only recently have scientists really grasped that there is no cure for cancer, but there will have to be many cures for many different cancers.
In short, what becomes abundantly clear is that cancer is daunting. According to the author, 1 in 3 women and 1 in 2 men will be diagnosed with cancer during their lifetimes. Gains have been made towards cure, but many people will still die after suffering through dibillitating treatment. But there is hope that with greater understanding of how cancer works, there will be other successes like Gleevic, used to put victims of chronic myeloma leukemia into permanent remission, and Herceptin, which cures those women with estrogen-dependent cancer.
It was a compelling book. I couldn't put it down.
Currently reading: Sense and Sensibility, by Jane Austen.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Playing Catch-up, part 2
Treasure Island, by Robert Louis Stevenson. As a seventh-grader, I thought this book was just okay. After all, it was originally characterized as a book for boys. And as a seventh-grader, I knew far too little about character development. Therefore, Long John Silver was simply a "bad guy."
As an adult, I still wouldn't count it among my favorite books, but I have greater appreciation for the story and the character development. Jim Hawkins, a boy who becomes a man as he truly becomes the man of the house, following his father's death, as he embarks on the grand adventure in search of treasure. Long John Silver, who could be charming and devious; resourceful and deceptive. What might have happened to Silver after his grand escape.
A relatively quick read. But before I leave it, I do have at least one question: what right did Dr. Livesy and Squire Trelawney have to take a share of the treasure? Shouldn't Jim (or his mother) made a conscious decision about who to trust? Shouldn't there have been some negotiation about the percentage (if any) the others would take? Maybe a flat fee would have been more appropriate. Maybe it's just the lawyer in me, but seems a little sketchy to me.
Now to consider what to read next. Sense and Sensibility? A Reliable Wife? Something else?
As an adult, I still wouldn't count it among my favorite books, but I have greater appreciation for the story and the character development. Jim Hawkins, a boy who becomes a man as he truly becomes the man of the house, following his father's death, as he embarks on the grand adventure in search of treasure. Long John Silver, who could be charming and devious; resourceful and deceptive. What might have happened to Silver after his grand escape.
A relatively quick read. But before I leave it, I do have at least one question: what right did Dr. Livesy and Squire Trelawney have to take a share of the treasure? Shouldn't Jim (or his mother) made a conscious decision about who to trust? Shouldn't there have been some negotiation about the percentage (if any) the others would take? Maybe a flat fee would have been more appropriate. Maybe it's just the lawyer in me, but seems a little sketchy to me.
Now to consider what to read next. Sense and Sensibility? A Reliable Wife? Something else?
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Playing Catch-up
A Confederacy of Dunces, by O'Toole. Knock another book off of the "to read" stack. This book made its way to the stack as the result of a Brian's recommendation during a visit to his favorite DC bookstore. it languished on the stack until in need of something to spend an Audible credit on, and wanting to add another Pulitzer prize winner to my list, I got an audio version. Probably a good thing that I did. As it turns out, this book did not hold a lot of natural attaction for me, and I probably would have given up if I'd simply read it. On the other hand, the performance by the reader of this book brought the characters to life and made me care enough about them to finish the book even though at times I had doubts.
To be honest, there were some funny moments, not gut-splitting moments, but milk-sputtering moments to be sure. On the other hand, this was one of those books that seems to be at a loss for a story line until the end. I tend to be a bit impatient with such books, and to some extent, I was so with this book. But was it worth getting to the very end? I'd say so, with a resounding yes. Ultimately, the little vignettes were woven into a story that had a nicely wrapped happy ending, and the stories were accurate depictions of a hundred little absurdities that one either knows or strongly suspects that occur every day.
Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte.
Having just re-read Jane Eyre, it seemed only fitting that I should read Wuthering Heights for the first time. If Charlotte could write such a good story, maybe there was something to Emily? Plus, so many people love this book that it was time to give it a try again. Yes, this too, is one of those books that I started, but then gave up on for failure to pay close enough attention to follow the plot.
I don't know what was so difficult about following the story. Yes, there were two Catherines. Yes, there was lots of intermarrying between the two main families: Catherine Earnshaw (Catherrine Sr.) marrying Edgar Linton, begetting Catherine Linton; Isabella Linton, marrying Heathcliff, the orphan, and begetting the frail, whiny Linton Heathcliff; Hindley Earnshaw, and his short-lived wife begetting Hareton Earnshaw; and finally, Catherine Jr. marrying Linton (her first cousin), only to later fall in love with and marry Hareton (her other first cousin). Whew!!
The story revolves around the undefineable relationship between Catherine Earnshaw and Heathcliff, but forces converge to deny Heathcliff the love of his life and respect because of his low-birth. He leaves the moors to return a "gentleman" and embarks on a bloodless vendetta that would make Don Corleone rethink his bloody ways. Resentful of the way Hindley relegated him to the station of a servant, Heathcliff manages to succeed to title to Wuthering Heights, including Hindley's son, Hareton. Next up, he's out to get Edgar Linton, for marrying Catherine and for denying him visits to Thrushcross Grange. Isabella, you ignorant slut! You've been punked in the worst kind of way. Duped into marrying Heathcliff when you should have known of his obsession with Catherine Earnshaw.
As if marrying Edgar's sister wasn't enough, now to really stick it to Edgar: gaining (collecting, if you will), Catherine Linton, by forcing her to marry her little whiney-butt cousin, Linton, as her father lay dying. With the marriage, and Edgar's death, and Linton's death, Heathcliff gets Thrushcross Grange too. He who dies with the most property wins?
Anyway, in the end, there's some redemption of sort as finally Heathcliff seems to soften as he nears death and Catherine and Hareton seem to to represent a redemption of civility themselves. Hareton, who has grown up with little guidance to smooth his rough edges is finally accepted by Catherine, who initially can't see such a rough creature as Hareton as any relation of hers.
Anywho, it all wraps up well in the end. As with Jane Eyre, you can see the Biblical themes in the story, likely a result of the Brontes' father's profession as a minister.
I liked this book.
Still need to address: Treasure Island.
To be honest, there were some funny moments, not gut-splitting moments, but milk-sputtering moments to be sure. On the other hand, this was one of those books that seems to be at a loss for a story line until the end. I tend to be a bit impatient with such books, and to some extent, I was so with this book. But was it worth getting to the very end? I'd say so, with a resounding yes. Ultimately, the little vignettes were woven into a story that had a nicely wrapped happy ending, and the stories were accurate depictions of a hundred little absurdities that one either knows or strongly suspects that occur every day.
Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte.
Having just re-read Jane Eyre, it seemed only fitting that I should read Wuthering Heights for the first time. If Charlotte could write such a good story, maybe there was something to Emily? Plus, so many people love this book that it was time to give it a try again. Yes, this too, is one of those books that I started, but then gave up on for failure to pay close enough attention to follow the plot.
I don't know what was so difficult about following the story. Yes, there were two Catherines. Yes, there was lots of intermarrying between the two main families: Catherine Earnshaw (Catherrine Sr.) marrying Edgar Linton, begetting Catherine Linton; Isabella Linton, marrying Heathcliff, the orphan, and begetting the frail, whiny Linton Heathcliff; Hindley Earnshaw, and his short-lived wife begetting Hareton Earnshaw; and finally, Catherine Jr. marrying Linton (her first cousin), only to later fall in love with and marry Hareton (her other first cousin). Whew!!
The story revolves around the undefineable relationship between Catherine Earnshaw and Heathcliff, but forces converge to deny Heathcliff the love of his life and respect because of his low-birth. He leaves the moors to return a "gentleman" and embarks on a bloodless vendetta that would make Don Corleone rethink his bloody ways. Resentful of the way Hindley relegated him to the station of a servant, Heathcliff manages to succeed to title to Wuthering Heights, including Hindley's son, Hareton. Next up, he's out to get Edgar Linton, for marrying Catherine and for denying him visits to Thrushcross Grange. Isabella, you ignorant slut! You've been punked in the worst kind of way. Duped into marrying Heathcliff when you should have known of his obsession with Catherine Earnshaw.
As if marrying Edgar's sister wasn't enough, now to really stick it to Edgar: gaining (collecting, if you will), Catherine Linton, by forcing her to marry her little whiney-butt cousin, Linton, as her father lay dying. With the marriage, and Edgar's death, and Linton's death, Heathcliff gets Thrushcross Grange too. He who dies with the most property wins?
Anyway, in the end, there's some redemption of sort as finally Heathcliff seems to soften as he nears death and Catherine and Hareton seem to to represent a redemption of civility themselves. Hareton, who has grown up with little guidance to smooth his rough edges is finally accepted by Catherine, who initially can't see such a rough creature as Hareton as any relation of hers.
Anywho, it all wraps up well in the end. As with Jane Eyre, you can see the Biblical themes in the story, likely a result of the Brontes' father's profession as a minister.
I liked this book.
Still need to address: Treasure Island.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Don't forget
Finished:
Wuthering Heights
A Conferderacy of Dunces
Reading:
Treasure Island
The Emperor of All Maladies
Wuthering Heights
A Conferderacy of Dunces
Reading:
Treasure Island
The Emperor of All Maladies
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Time flies
Has it really been more than a month since I posted? I've been busy reading, but don't seem to have much to show for it.
Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte. It's been about 10 years since I read this book for the first time. I enjoyed it then, but only now do I realize how much I missed. I had only just started my quest to read the books that I should have read in my youth, so I just wasn't as good--that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Anyway, I missed (or didn't remember) how much of an independent thinker Jane was and how she differed so from the other women of her time. Was it the time spent at the Lowood School such that she missed learning how Victorian women were supposed to act? Or was it just part of her personality, as was clear in the early chapters when she still resided with the Reeds? One thing is clear that many women today could learn a thing or two from Jane. How many women, given the chance to travel and live as the kept woman of a rich man, would have gladly become his mistress? Heck, many women are willing to give it up for a whole lot less.
Okay, enough sermonizing, I enjoyed re-reading this book. Well-written--so descriptive that I could feel Jane's misery as she wandered around hungry and homeless after fleeing Rochester's house.
I'm glad I re-read it.
When the Game Was Ours, by Larry Bird and Magic Johnson. I'm not sure why I selected this book--sports memoirs aren't my cup of tea, but I'm glad I did. I remember the NCAA Final between Michigan State and Indiana State. I remember many of the NBA Championship games between the Lakers and the Celtics. I remember the Magic/Bird rivalry. So it was fun to be reminded of those games.
But there was lots I didn't know (of course). That Bird and Magic both anticipated and wanted the match-ups, and that each haunted the dreams/nightmares of the other was a surprise. That they had actually been teammates on the World Invitational Team during college was interesting. How they ultimately became re-acquainted and sowed the seed for their friendship, during the shooting of a Converse commercial, was intriguing.
Of course, the book couldn't have been complete without a recount of Magic's HIV+ saga. Maybe the back-story has been available, but I didn't know it. It's easy to forget how much of a death sentence HIV+ status used to be. Twenty years ago, the only question for those with HIV was how long before, (as the Rent line goes) "the virus takes hold." The fear and the ignorance is a thing of the past, for the most part, at least in this country.
Any good book should inspire a desire to learn more or do something more. I'd like to go back and review some of those games from the Magic/Bird era. It was a different game then--one where the star players played for the benefit of the team rather than their stardom. When the game was theirs, it was a different game.
It was a book well worth my time.
Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte. It's been about 10 years since I read this book for the first time. I enjoyed it then, but only now do I realize how much I missed. I had only just started my quest to read the books that I should have read in my youth, so I just wasn't as good--that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Anyway, I missed (or didn't remember) how much of an independent thinker Jane was and how she differed so from the other women of her time. Was it the time spent at the Lowood School such that she missed learning how Victorian women were supposed to act? Or was it just part of her personality, as was clear in the early chapters when she still resided with the Reeds? One thing is clear that many women today could learn a thing or two from Jane. How many women, given the chance to travel and live as the kept woman of a rich man, would have gladly become his mistress? Heck, many women are willing to give it up for a whole lot less.
Okay, enough sermonizing, I enjoyed re-reading this book. Well-written--so descriptive that I could feel Jane's misery as she wandered around hungry and homeless after fleeing Rochester's house.
I'm glad I re-read it.
When the Game Was Ours, by Larry Bird and Magic Johnson. I'm not sure why I selected this book--sports memoirs aren't my cup of tea, but I'm glad I did. I remember the NCAA Final between Michigan State and Indiana State. I remember many of the NBA Championship games between the Lakers and the Celtics. I remember the Magic/Bird rivalry. So it was fun to be reminded of those games.
But there was lots I didn't know (of course). That Bird and Magic both anticipated and wanted the match-ups, and that each haunted the dreams/nightmares of the other was a surprise. That they had actually been teammates on the World Invitational Team during college was interesting. How they ultimately became re-acquainted and sowed the seed for their friendship, during the shooting of a Converse commercial, was intriguing.
Of course, the book couldn't have been complete without a recount of Magic's HIV+ saga. Maybe the back-story has been available, but I didn't know it. It's easy to forget how much of a death sentence HIV+ status used to be. Twenty years ago, the only question for those with HIV was how long before, (as the Rent line goes) "the virus takes hold." The fear and the ignorance is a thing of the past, for the most part, at least in this country.
Any good book should inspire a desire to learn more or do something more. I'd like to go back and review some of those games from the Magic/Bird era. It was a different game then--one where the star players played for the benefit of the team rather than their stardom. When the game was theirs, it was a different game.
It was a book well worth my time.
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