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?
Monday, December 27, 2010
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.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Slow to post, but busy reading
King Solomon's Mines, by H. Rider Haggard. This was part of B&N's free classics Fridays during the summer. Having seen the mid-80s movie, with Richard Chamberlain, and hating it, I had little interest in reading the book, but the reviews suggested it was a good and quick read, so what the heck. No question: it was far better than the movie. What is less clear in my own mind is whether I liked it or not. It was suspenseful and there were exciting parts. But the treatment of the African characters in the book made me a tad uncomfortable. On the one hand, these Europeans, who have already profited from the plundering of the African nations are looking to profit even more by locating "King Solomon's mines." They tend to have a superiority complex, expecting that the Africans, in their own nation, should be deferential to the white man, i.e. that they should know their place. This is evident when they meet their guide, as they go in search for the mines and one of the European's missing brother, who also went in search of the mines. One of the natives, enlisted to help with the excursion, is essentially described in terms that today would make him sound uppity.
On the other hand, when the Europeans get drawn into a battle to restore the rightful king of one the tribes, there is a degree of respect for this same servant, who turns out is the rightful king. One of the Europeans ultimately falls in love with one of the beautiful natives and is heartbroken when she dies. Of course, her death provides an escape from the issues that would have existed with this interracial love affair.
Ultimately, they find the mines only to come close to being trapped for all time. They barely escape with their lives and only a few gems--enough to make them rich. So maybe all's well that ends well.
Either way, I simply tried to enjoy the book for the story and the adventure and to recognize that Haggard was a product of his times. The views on race were radically different then as compared to now, and in truth, he was probably a bit more progressive for his time than most of his era.
,
Room, by Emma Donahue. Imagine being the offspring of a woman, who was abducted and imprisoned for seven years, and her assailant. Imagine further spending the first five years of ones life in a 11 x 11 room. The only thing that is real is what's in that room. "Outside" and the things on TV aren't real. In Room, it's easy to believe that Baby Jesus and Dora the Explorer are pals. That is the premise of Room.
The story is told in first person by five year old Jack. His mother, lured by her abductor, gives birth to him in Room and creates a world that to him is as normal to him as living in the 'burbs is to my kids. Jack and Ma ultimately succeed in tricking "Old Nick" and escaping. For the first time Jack learns that "outside" really exists. Ice cream exists; grass exists; other children exist, and so on. An Ma discovers that dealing with "outside" after such a long captivity poses its own problems.
Good story, which surely must have been inspired in part by the Jacie Dugard case, in which a little girl is kidnapped and kept for some 15 years or so, and gives birth to two of her abductor's children. Donahue does a fantastic job of describing the world through the eyes of a child who has lived an extraordinary existence. It dragged a bit in the middle after the suspense of the great escape. In the end, however, it is one of those books, like The Giver that forces me to view the world through different eyes.
Reading: Madame Bovary
Re-reading: Jane Eyre
On the other hand, when the Europeans get drawn into a battle to restore the rightful king of one the tribes, there is a degree of respect for this same servant, who turns out is the rightful king. One of the Europeans ultimately falls in love with one of the beautiful natives and is heartbroken when she dies. Of course, her death provides an escape from the issues that would have existed with this interracial love affair.
Ultimately, they find the mines only to come close to being trapped for all time. They barely escape with their lives and only a few gems--enough to make them rich. So maybe all's well that ends well.
Either way, I simply tried to enjoy the book for the story and the adventure and to recognize that Haggard was a product of his times. The views on race were radically different then as compared to now, and in truth, he was probably a bit more progressive for his time than most of his era.
,
Room, by Emma Donahue. Imagine being the offspring of a woman, who was abducted and imprisoned for seven years, and her assailant. Imagine further spending the first five years of ones life in a 11 x 11 room. The only thing that is real is what's in that room. "Outside" and the things on TV aren't real. In Room, it's easy to believe that Baby Jesus and Dora the Explorer are pals. That is the premise of Room.
The story is told in first person by five year old Jack. His mother, lured by her abductor, gives birth to him in Room and creates a world that to him is as normal to him as living in the 'burbs is to my kids. Jack and Ma ultimately succeed in tricking "Old Nick" and escaping. For the first time Jack learns that "outside" really exists. Ice cream exists; grass exists; other children exist, and so on. An Ma discovers that dealing with "outside" after such a long captivity poses its own problems.
Good story, which surely must have been inspired in part by the Jacie Dugard case, in which a little girl is kidnapped and kept for some 15 years or so, and gives birth to two of her abductor's children. Donahue does a fantastic job of describing the world through the eyes of a child who has lived an extraordinary existence. It dragged a bit in the middle after the suspense of the great escape. In the end, however, it is one of those books, like The Giver that forces me to view the world through different eyes.
Reading: Madame Bovary
Re-reading: Jane Eyre
Friday, October 8, 2010
A Keeper
The Woman in White, by Wilkie Collins. After languishing on the "buy" list for probably two years or so, this book can be officially moved to the "read it" side of the ledger. I listened to parts and read parts, and enjoyed it immensely.
The Woman in White: is she a ghost? As it turns out, no. Just a sad character who meets a sad ending. But from the first of this tale, told from different perspectives by those who have first hand knowledge, like a trial (which I can appreciate), the tale winds through a labrynth of shady characters and vulnerable, though aristocratic women, with a sprinkling of second-class women, in service, to care for those aristocratic women.
Wilkie's character development is fantastic. Apparently, some reviews of the story at the time of its publication were critical, accusing Collins of creating flat characters whose only purpose was to carry the plot forward. What book were they were reading?? The pernicioulsy evil Count Fosco? Weak, self-centered Mr. Fairlie (the "invalid")? Staunchly loyal Marian Halcomb? Laura, Lady Glyde, is a little flat, but wasn't that the point? A beautiful, wealthy, young women whose main value lay her money, her ability to bear an heir, and maybe her connections. In those days women were not encouraged to be more than eye candy or maybe sources for entertainment if they could sing or play piano, but ultimately dependent on their fathers (or a proxy thereof) until they married, at which time they became entirely dependent on their husbands. And of course, these rich, idle women had little incentive to be otherwise.
In the end, Collins created a deliciously suspenseful book that was worth the time. Perhaps there is a sadness in knowing that were the story written today, there'd be no story: one quick buccal swab would clarify much of the mystery, and the rest wouldn't matter. Progress, right?
The Woman in White: is she a ghost? As it turns out, no. Just a sad character who meets a sad ending. But from the first of this tale, told from different perspectives by those who have first hand knowledge, like a trial (which I can appreciate), the tale winds through a labrynth of shady characters and vulnerable, though aristocratic women, with a sprinkling of second-class women, in service, to care for those aristocratic women.
Wilkie's character development is fantastic. Apparently, some reviews of the story at the time of its publication were critical, accusing Collins of creating flat characters whose only purpose was to carry the plot forward. What book were they were reading?? The pernicioulsy evil Count Fosco? Weak, self-centered Mr. Fairlie (the "invalid")? Staunchly loyal Marian Halcomb? Laura, Lady Glyde, is a little flat, but wasn't that the point? A beautiful, wealthy, young women whose main value lay her money, her ability to bear an heir, and maybe her connections. In those days women were not encouraged to be more than eye candy or maybe sources for entertainment if they could sing or play piano, but ultimately dependent on their fathers (or a proxy thereof) until they married, at which time they became entirely dependent on their husbands. And of course, these rich, idle women had little incentive to be otherwise.
In the end, Collins created a deliciously suspenseful book that was worth the time. Perhaps there is a sadness in knowing that were the story written today, there'd be no story: one quick buccal swab would clarify much of the mystery, and the rest wouldn't matter. Progress, right?
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Tragic ending, to state the obvious
The Hunchback of Notre Dame, by Victor Hugo. I continue my quest to read the books that I should have read in my youth. Add another to the list. Quite simply, I enjoyed this book, despite that it did not have the happy ending that, as an American, I guess I crave. Humans are shallow now, and humans were shallow then, as Esmerelda so clearly illustrates. Beauty--and ugly--are only skin deep, yet Esmerelda can't look past either Quasimodo's fugly exterior or Phoebus's pretty-boy looks to see the truth about either of them.
Some priests are depraved now, and some priests were depraved then. Exhibit A, the bishop, guilty of both attempted kidnap and attempted rape, and cruelly able to send Esmerelda to her death because he couldn't have her.
Some individuals hurt themselves with their prejudices today; the samewas true back then. Look to Sister Gedulla for proof. If only she hadn't spent virtually her whole life, blinded by her hatred for gypsies, she might have seen that the Esmerelda, the "gypsy", was actually the daughter she long sought to find.
And life's choices are hard. Did you ever have to make up your mind? Pick up the one and leave the other behind . . . And so it was for Quasimodo. There could be no happiness in either choice.
Listening to: The Woman in White.
Reading: The Jungle?? Haven't decided yet.
Some priests are depraved now, and some priests were depraved then. Exhibit A, the bishop, guilty of both attempted kidnap and attempted rape, and cruelly able to send Esmerelda to her death because he couldn't have her.
Some individuals hurt themselves with their prejudices today; the samewas true back then. Look to Sister Gedulla for proof. If only she hadn't spent virtually her whole life, blinded by her hatred for gypsies, she might have seen that the Esmerelda, the "gypsy", was actually the daughter she long sought to find.
And life's choices are hard. Did you ever have to make up your mind? Pick up the one and leave the other behind . . . And so it was for Quasimodo. There could be no happiness in either choice.
Listening to: The Woman in White.
Reading: The Jungle?? Haven't decided yet.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
If at first you don't succeed . . .
I, Claudius, by Robert Graves.
I started this audio book back in the spring, but unfortunately, did not pay close enough attention to the various characters and events, so that it became dreadfully difficult to follow. For whatever reason, I started from the beginning, and once I took special care to pay close attention to the course of events, truly enjoyed this fictionalized account of Roman history.
Murder, false accusations, extortion, incest, and all sorts of intrigue. This book winds it way through the reign of Augustus Caeser and his very competent, but rather evil second wife, Livia. Tiberius follows as one of the most insecure and bitter people one could ever find. Then there's Caligula--certifiably crazy. Finally, Clau, Clau, Claudius becomes the emperor. The crippled, stammering man, believed to be an idiot, who is anything but.
Here's what I learned: I don't think I'd want to be part of the imperial family. Or the Roman nobility. Or a citizen. Or a freedman. I certainly wouldn't have wanted to be a slave. I wouldn't have wanted to be even a beautiful, high-born woman. Life during the Roman empire was tough--fraught with the risk of poisoning, false accusation (meaning almost certain forfeiture of all wealth and execution or suicide). Service in the Army could extend for 20 or 30 years, or even longer, with the risk of a good beating for various infractions. Service in the army for certain men, with risk of beating for discipline. And life for women, at least those in the imperial family, wasn't much better. The emperor had absolute power to marry and divorce them. And angering the emperor could result in banishment to some forsaken island. Family kinship meant nothing!
Ultimately, it was worth the effort to pay attention to this well-written soap opera of the first milllenium kind. Glad I went back to it.
Listening: The Woman inWhite.
Reading: The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
I started this audio book back in the spring, but unfortunately, did not pay close enough attention to the various characters and events, so that it became dreadfully difficult to follow. For whatever reason, I started from the beginning, and once I took special care to pay close attention to the course of events, truly enjoyed this fictionalized account of Roman history.
Murder, false accusations, extortion, incest, and all sorts of intrigue. This book winds it way through the reign of Augustus Caeser and his very competent, but rather evil second wife, Livia. Tiberius follows as one of the most insecure and bitter people one could ever find. Then there's Caligula--certifiably crazy. Finally, Clau, Clau, Claudius becomes the emperor. The crippled, stammering man, believed to be an idiot, who is anything but.
Here's what I learned: I don't think I'd want to be part of the imperial family. Or the Roman nobility. Or a citizen. Or a freedman. I certainly wouldn't have wanted to be a slave. I wouldn't have wanted to be even a beautiful, high-born woman. Life during the Roman empire was tough--fraught with the risk of poisoning, false accusation (meaning almost certain forfeiture of all wealth and execution or suicide). Service in the Army could extend for 20 or 30 years, or even longer, with the risk of a good beating for various infractions. Service in the army for certain men, with risk of beating for discipline. And life for women, at least those in the imperial family, wasn't much better. The emperor had absolute power to marry and divorce them. And angering the emperor could result in banishment to some forsaken island. Family kinship meant nothing!
Ultimately, it was worth the effort to pay attention to this well-written soap opera of the first milllenium kind. Glad I went back to it.
Listening: The Woman inWhite.
Reading: The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Tim is one of the girls; pour the coffee
Gunn's Golden Rules, by Tim Gunn. This was a rather juicy, gossipy, gap-fest by none other than the inimitable Tim Gunn. Each chapter is oneof the rules by which he leads his life, with lots of tidbits from Project Runway and various celebrities to illustrate those points. I mostly enjoyed this book, particularly the behind-the-scenes information about PR. But, at points, the book seemed to be stream-of-conscious writing that could have used better editing. Plus, as juicy as the gossip was, Tim seemed often to violate his own rule, "Take the High Road."
Nonetheless, kudos to Tim for speaking openly and honestly about his family, their drinking, his depression, his coming-to-terms with his homosexuality, and ultimately disclosing his asexuality. I believe it took a lot of courage to disclose so much, and for that, I respect him.
Nonetheless, kudos to Tim for speaking openly and honestly about his family, their drinking, his depression, his coming-to-terms with his homosexuality, and ultimately disclosing his asexuality. I believe it took a lot of courage to disclose so much, and for that, I respect him.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Oops, forgot one!
Medium Raw, by Anthony Bourdain. I listened to this book, which was read by the author. Just like Kitchen Confidential, it was full of delicious tidbits about the restaurant industry, celebrity chefs, and fine eating and drinking. Just like the earlier book, it was full of profanity and honesty--Bourdain is quite open about the lifestyle he led in the past as a druggie who squandered the splendid opportunities he had, but who somehow, luckily, landed on his feet, earning millions for his writing efforts. It was good, at least good enough. I was not quite as enamored with this one, but the description of the food in some of the Far-Eastern countries was enough to make me think that given a chance, I might just try chicken ass. Plus, I have a new appreciation for Justo and others like him. Justo cleans and filets fish for one of the fancy New York restaurants. It's easy to forget that there are millions of people who aren't educated professionals, working in well-appointed surroundings. Nonetheless, they do their jobs well and with a committment to perfection that is to be emulated. Justo is paid well, but how many others likehim go unappreciated?
Reading (Nook): The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Listening: I, Claudius
I'm also reminded how undeveloped my palate is and how little I know about fine food. On the other hand, I like what I like, and canned tomato soup with a grilled cheese sandwich might not be to everyone's liking, but they taste good to me.
Reading (Nook): The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Listening: I, Claudius
I'm also reminded how undeveloped my palate is and how little I know about fine food. On the other hand, I like what I like, and canned tomato soup with a grilled cheese sandwich might not be to everyone's liking, but they taste good to me.
Chugging along
I loved the first two books in this series; this book, not so much. It lacked a consistent central theme. Katniss's role as the Mockingjay seemed to make little sense, as the book lurched from one scene to the next. Towards the end, it felt more like the literary version of a slasher movie, with each page offering up another creative way to die.
Once again, it was clear that Katniss would survive. There were some surprises, and I appreciate that Collins did not feel it necessary to serve up a sugary sweet happy ending. On the other hand, by end, I cared little about Katniss or any of the other characters for that matter. With the first two books, I hated to see them come to an end. With this one, it took all of my energy to cross the finish line.
Friday, August 13, 2010
The End of the Milenium?
The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest, by Stieg Larson. Say it ain't so! I've now finished all three of the Larson's books. And I'm not one bit happy. I hate to see it come to an end.
Of course, I knew that Lisabeth would come out the victor--who can beat the genius of Salander, particularly when she has the help of Blumqvist? Larson doesn't disappoint in weaving the story of how she comes out the victor, at least there's not much disappointment. Either way, the court room scenes, although very different from the procedure in American courts, are captivating and dramatic. Advokat Gianini systematically takes Dr. Teleborian apart, ultimately using Lisabeth's videotaped rape from the first book.
The only disappointment is that the second end seems a little forced. Like some stories, this book has a couple of endings--the end of the trial and Salander's acquittal; Salander's growing realization of what it means to be free of guardianship and to start to trust; and the end-end, where Salander confronts her half-brother. That's the ending that seems a bit strained. I figured that he'd have to make another appearance, but the coincidence of meeting him at a warehouse that she inherited from her father is a little much. I have to give it Larson, though--what a clever way to slow Neiderman down--nailed again!
Rumor has it that there is a draft of another Salander book that was left on Larson's computer before he died. I hope so. I'm not quite ready to say good-bye to Salander.
Reading: The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Listening: Medium Raw
Of course, I knew that Lisabeth would come out the victor--who can beat the genius of Salander, particularly when she has the help of Blumqvist? Larson doesn't disappoint in weaving the story of how she comes out the victor, at least there's not much disappointment. Either way, the court room scenes, although very different from the procedure in American courts, are captivating and dramatic. Advokat Gianini systematically takes Dr. Teleborian apart, ultimately using Lisabeth's videotaped rape from the first book.
The only disappointment is that the second end seems a little forced. Like some stories, this book has a couple of endings--the end of the trial and Salander's acquittal; Salander's growing realization of what it means to be free of guardianship and to start to trust; and the end-end, where Salander confronts her half-brother. That's the ending that seems a bit strained. I figured that he'd have to make another appearance, but the coincidence of meeting him at a warehouse that she inherited from her father is a little much. I have to give it Larson, though--what a clever way to slow Neiderman down--nailed again!
Rumor has it that there is a draft of another Salander book that was left on Larson's computer before he died. I hope so. I'm not quite ready to say good-bye to Salander.
Reading: The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Listening: Medium Raw
Thursday, August 12, 2010
In my second youth
Catching Fire, by Suzanne Collins. Maybe the name is prophetic--the Hunger Games series has set my reading on fire. I've now finished the second in the series and pre-ordered the third, Mockingjay. The elephant in the room with any sequel is whether it can live up to the original or even come close. In this case, the answer is a resounding yes. The story moves, as we head back to the Arena for round two of the Games. This year is the 75th year, which means it's time for the Quarter Quell--Games that are bigger or more twisted in some way. The "twist" this time is that the tributes will be drawn from all the past winners. Big sigh for the youth of each district, but what a horror for the former victors, one as old as 80, who are thrown back into the ring.
Once again, there is little doubt that Katniss, the only girl victor from District 12, will return to the Arena and will survive. But the suspense is just as great, and Collins kept me guessing about who the good guys were.
She clearly planned all three books, leavving us with a cliffhanger for the next one. Will there finally be peace, happiness, and free from the Capitol when the book ends? I'll know in about two weeks.
Reading: The Hunchback of Notre Dame (??)
Listening: The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest
Once again, there is little doubt that Katniss, the only girl victor from District 12, will return to the Arena and will survive. But the suspense is just as great, and Collins kept me guessing about who the good guys were.
She clearly planned all three books, leavving us with a cliffhanger for the next one. Will there finally be peace, happiness, and free from the Capitol when the book ends? I'll know in about two weeks.
Reading: The Hunchback of Notre Dame (??)
Listening: The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Quick and complex
The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, by Muriel Sparks. This slim little book was far more complex and took longer to read than I would have expected. I'm not sure what I think about such an intense relationship between a teacher, in her "prime" and her six students, during which over the years, she grooms them in her quest to select the correct girl to become her proxy in a sexul affair with the man she loves. Ultimately one of the girls, Sandy, betrays her, not because Miss Brodie encouraged the affair, but because Miss Brodie is a Fascist.
I've got to give more thought to this book.
Listening: The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest.
Reading: Catching Fire.
I've got to give more thought to this book.
Listening: The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest.
Reading: Catching Fire.
Almost a martyr
Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand. This book would easily take the first five spots on my worst book list! What an arrogant, misguided, simple-minded bitch who wrote this book! But I digress.
As a novel it fails. The story is weak, melodramatic, and ultimately utterly ridiculous. It's as heavy as a rain-sodden phone book and only slightly more interesting. The characters are flat--there's not a one that is likeable and few that grew or changed over the course of this gigantic tome. Indeed, the characters seem to fall into two or three categories: the beautiful, uber-competent industrialists; and the incompetent "looters" who hate the industrialists, but like what the the industrialists have. The strikers always know what to do. They handle every crisis easily and unemotionally. They're never vulnerable. On the other hand, the looters couldn't pour piss from a boot with instructions on the bottorm. They are, however, smart enough to recognize their incompetence, resorting to begging John Gault to please be a dictator!
And then there's the unimaginative dialogue. "What?" uttered with a sense of surprise seemed to be the go-to phrase. "I'm scared!" showed up far too often. When in doubt, go with the, "We -don't-know-what-to-do" line of dialogue. The Fountainhead had the advantage of an interesting story line to go with it. This story line rambles and bores, with little suspense beyond when Dagney would eventualy join the "strike." Like a soap opera, one could easily skip pages at a time and not miss anything because the story progressed so slowly and the prose was so over-blown.
As a "philosophy" it fails. Socialism fails because few people have the integrity and constitution to work harde, do their best, stand on their principles, and live morally simply because it is the right thing to do. There are few Howard Rourkes in the world. However, the same flaw in man that makes socialism an unworkable system makes unbridled capitalism flawed as well. There are too few Howard Rourkes who can resist the temptation of greed. They are unwilling or unable to make a fair trade of something of value in return for value. Witness Bernie Madoff or the executives in the most recent financial disaster. Consider the various coal mining disasters, directly attributable to the drive for profits.
Rand witnessed the wrecked economy of the Soviet Union. Too bad she missed the wrecked economy we're enjoying now. And for the record, the problem wasn't that there too many regulaions, but that there were too few of the right regulations to serve as a check on man's natural greed and tendency to cut corners if there are no repercussions.
Moreover, the book is anti-Christian if not anti-religion. Instead of loving God and loving others before oneself, the idea is to love oneself first. "I swear by my life and my love of it, I will not live for another man or ask another man to live for me." Rand mocks the basic tenets of Christianity; there is no place in her world of egotism for the altruism that forms an essential part of Christianity. Love my neighbor? Only if my neighbor has something of value to trade.
I am the center of my universe.
Finally for someone who claims to celebrate the mind of man, Rand has scant respect for the minds of her readers. She beats the readers over the head with her simplistic philosophy, I suppose, because we readers aren't bright enough to get it the first 67 times. That might explain the mega-sermon delivered by John Gault near the end. Really?
I could go on and on. I wish I had back the hours I spent, but I suppose this is the kind of thing I should read to be ready to challenge those who have bought this crap hook, line, and sinker. Ultimately, I feel like I've trudged through mud and come up dirty. Quite unsatisfying.
As a novel it fails. The story is weak, melodramatic, and ultimately utterly ridiculous. It's as heavy as a rain-sodden phone book and only slightly more interesting. The characters are flat--there's not a one that is likeable and few that grew or changed over the course of this gigantic tome. Indeed, the characters seem to fall into two or three categories: the beautiful, uber-competent industrialists; and the incompetent "looters" who hate the industrialists, but like what the the industrialists have. The strikers always know what to do. They handle every crisis easily and unemotionally. They're never vulnerable. On the other hand, the looters couldn't pour piss from a boot with instructions on the bottorm. They are, however, smart enough to recognize their incompetence, resorting to begging John Gault to please be a dictator!
And then there's the unimaginative dialogue. "What?" uttered with a sense of surprise seemed to be the go-to phrase. "I'm scared!" showed up far too often. When in doubt, go with the, "We -don't-know-what-to-do" line of dialogue. The Fountainhead had the advantage of an interesting story line to go with it. This story line rambles and bores, with little suspense beyond when Dagney would eventualy join the "strike." Like a soap opera, one could easily skip pages at a time and not miss anything because the story progressed so slowly and the prose was so over-blown.
As a "philosophy" it fails. Socialism fails because few people have the integrity and constitution to work harde, do their best, stand on their principles, and live morally simply because it is the right thing to do. There are few Howard Rourkes in the world. However, the same flaw in man that makes socialism an unworkable system makes unbridled capitalism flawed as well. There are too few Howard Rourkes who can resist the temptation of greed. They are unwilling or unable to make a fair trade of something of value in return for value. Witness Bernie Madoff or the executives in the most recent financial disaster. Consider the various coal mining disasters, directly attributable to the drive for profits.
Rand witnessed the wrecked economy of the Soviet Union. Too bad she missed the wrecked economy we're enjoying now. And for the record, the problem wasn't that there too many regulaions, but that there were too few of the right regulations to serve as a check on man's natural greed and tendency to cut corners if there are no repercussions.
Moreover, the book is anti-Christian if not anti-religion. Instead of loving God and loving others before oneself, the idea is to love oneself first. "I swear by my life and my love of it, I will not live for another man or ask another man to live for me." Rand mocks the basic tenets of Christianity; there is no place in her world of egotism for the altruism that forms an essential part of Christianity. Love my neighbor? Only if my neighbor has something of value to trade.
I am the center of my universe.
Finally for someone who claims to celebrate the mind of man, Rand has scant respect for the minds of her readers. She beats the readers over the head with her simplistic philosophy, I suppose, because we readers aren't bright enough to get it the first 67 times. That might explain the mega-sermon delivered by John Gault near the end. Really?
I could go on and on. I wish I had back the hours I spent, but I suppose this is the kind of thing I should read to be ready to challenge those who have bought this crap hook, line, and sinker. Ultimately, I feel like I've trudged through mud and come up dirty. Quite unsatisfying.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Two-fer
I think I'm regressing. These two reads are proof of that possibility.
The Wind in the Willows, by Kenneth Grahame. I'm not generally a fan of rat and squirrel books, having given Chip much grief while he was in his Brian Jacques phase. I read this book only because, 1) it's on the list of top novels; and 2) B&N made the e-version free. What did I have to lose?
Turns out nothing, but everything to gain. This beautifully written novel is poetical, lyrical, with beautiful descriptions of the setting. Plus the story is good: the adventures of a group of animals, who epitomize fellowship, friendship, loyalty, and a sense of adventure. The story begins with Mole, who tires of spring cleaning, emerges from his underground world to discover the great big world, including the river. Along the way, he becomes good friends with the River Rat, Badger, and Otter. And then there's Toad. Proud and prone to gross exageration, his adventures provide some of the funniest moments of the book. Ultimately, it was the best kind of children's literature, that which can be read on multiple levels to make it entertaining to both children and adults.
Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins. What if Mark Burnet created a reality TV show, sort of like Survivor. It would still involve the same kind of challenges that make a difficult situation even more challenging. There would still be the opportunity to form alliances and rewards of needed or desired items. But no wasted time on votes. It could be the ultimate game of survival because the fight is to the death. That would essentially be the premise of this book.
Talk about a dystopian society. North America has become the country of Panem, which consists of a capitol and 12 districts. As punishment for a failed rebellion, the Capitol keeps extraordinarily tight restraints on the Districts and requires each District to send two tributes--one boy and one girl--to the annual Hunger Games. The tributes are selected by virtue of a lottery which all children between the ages of 12 and 18 are required to participate. Children can get extra rations of food but with the cost of more entries into the lottery. Shirley Jackson, meet Suzanne Collins. Anywho, Katniss is not selected; her younger sister, Primose is selected against the odds, since her name is entered only once since is the first year she is eligible and she has no extra entries. Kantiss, howeve, volunteers to go in her sister's place. The baker's son is the boy tribute from District 12.
The stage is set, as the children are whisked off to the Capitol to eat better than they've ever eaten in their lives and to by grommed and styled for the opening ceremony and their live interviews. It's all very warped and very disturbing.
The end is a foregone conclusion--after all the book is written in first person and surely someone who is being hunted by fellow tributes is unlikely to waste time journaling the daily happenings. The real suspense is how Katniss will manage to survive and whether she will lose her humanity in the process.
I bought this book for Chip almost a year ago. B&N classifies it as teen literature. Ultimately, it's a good and suspenseful read.
Listening: Atlas Shrugged. Almost done. Hallelujah!
The Wind in the Willows, by Kenneth Grahame. I'm not generally a fan of rat and squirrel books, having given Chip much grief while he was in his Brian Jacques phase. I read this book only because, 1) it's on the list of top novels; and 2) B&N made the e-version free. What did I have to lose?
Turns out nothing, but everything to gain. This beautifully written novel is poetical, lyrical, with beautiful descriptions of the setting. Plus the story is good: the adventures of a group of animals, who epitomize fellowship, friendship, loyalty, and a sense of adventure. The story begins with Mole, who tires of spring cleaning, emerges from his underground world to discover the great big world, including the river. Along the way, he becomes good friends with the River Rat, Badger, and Otter. And then there's Toad. Proud and prone to gross exageration, his adventures provide some of the funniest moments of the book. Ultimately, it was the best kind of children's literature, that which can be read on multiple levels to make it entertaining to both children and adults.
Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins. What if Mark Burnet created a reality TV show, sort of like Survivor. It would still involve the same kind of challenges that make a difficult situation even more challenging. There would still be the opportunity to form alliances and rewards of needed or desired items. But no wasted time on votes. It could be the ultimate game of survival because the fight is to the death. That would essentially be the premise of this book.
Talk about a dystopian society. North America has become the country of Panem, which consists of a capitol and 12 districts. As punishment for a failed rebellion, the Capitol keeps extraordinarily tight restraints on the Districts and requires each District to send two tributes--one boy and one girl--to the annual Hunger Games. The tributes are selected by virtue of a lottery which all children between the ages of 12 and 18 are required to participate. Children can get extra rations of food but with the cost of more entries into the lottery. Shirley Jackson, meet Suzanne Collins. Anywho, Katniss is not selected; her younger sister, Primose is selected against the odds, since her name is entered only once since is the first year she is eligible and she has no extra entries. Kantiss, howeve, volunteers to go in her sister's place. The baker's son is the boy tribute from District 12.
The stage is set, as the children are whisked off to the Capitol to eat better than they've ever eaten in their lives and to by grommed and styled for the opening ceremony and their live interviews. It's all very warped and very disturbing.
The end is a foregone conclusion--after all the book is written in first person and surely someone who is being hunted by fellow tributes is unlikely to waste time journaling the daily happenings. The real suspense is how Katniss will manage to survive and whether she will lose her humanity in the process.
I bought this book for Chip almost a year ago. B&N classifies it as teen literature. Ultimately, it's a good and suspenseful read.
Listening: Atlas Shrugged. Almost done. Hallelujah!
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Quick read
The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man, by James Weldon Johnson. Sometimes, you get what you paid for, which means that a free book can sometimes be a dog of a story. Not so with this book, which I got free for my Nook. Why didn't I read this book before? Why does the book show up on few books other than for African-American Studies courses?
It was a fast read, that engaged me from the the first page. The ending was a foregone conclusion, but much of thebook is a report of life in the early part of the 20th century, when the "Negro question" was the raging social issue of the day. Surprisingly, the question has not been fully resolved some 100 years later, and even more surpisingly, the book retains a great deal of relevance on the issue.
I enjoyed hearing of the unnamed protagonist's travels from the South of his early childhood to Connecticut, to Atlanta, to Florida, to New York, to Europe, and back to New York. I enjoyed his observations of the world of the "Negro" which, according to the one drop rule, he was, despite his father being white and his mother being herself a "mulatto".
His observations on the race questions are keen. Why should whites devote the best of themselves trying to prove the inferiority of blacks? That's just one of the observations made by Johnson. I suppose it was true through the 50s and maybe today that many Southerners tended to be fond of the blacks they knew, but to dislike the race in general and that many Northerners tended to love the race, but to have few personal relationships with blacks.
Over the past few days, as I've been reading this book, the controversy regarding Shirley Sherrod has been raging. A white, conservative blogger edited a speech by Sherrod to make what was a message on overcoming her own prejudices appear to be given by a racist who discriminated against the white farmers she was supposed to be helping. That none of the news outlets vetted the story before publishing it resulted in her firing from the USDA. The blogger's stated purpose: to show that the NAACP, which had sponsored Sherrod's speech, was as racist as the so-called Teabag movement. All that time and energy wasted and such harm done to race relations to prove a point that merits no such proof. If the NAACP is racist in its mission, that will be abundantly clear; no person or organization can hide its true character. What does the blogger's efforts say about the issue when it's all said and done.
Either way, lest I get to far astray, I enjoyed this book. Would I have passed if I could have at that time in history? Would I pass today? Was it a sign of courage or cowardice for the protagonist to let the world define him instead of conceding to the one-drop rule. I don't know, but in the end, I can't fault him for his choice.
It was a fast read, that engaged me from the the first page. The ending was a foregone conclusion, but much of thebook is a report of life in the early part of the 20th century, when the "Negro question" was the raging social issue of the day. Surprisingly, the question has not been fully resolved some 100 years later, and even more surpisingly, the book retains a great deal of relevance on the issue.
I enjoyed hearing of the unnamed protagonist's travels from the South of his early childhood to Connecticut, to Atlanta, to Florida, to New York, to Europe, and back to New York. I enjoyed his observations of the world of the "Negro" which, according to the one drop rule, he was, despite his father being white and his mother being herself a "mulatto".
His observations on the race questions are keen. Why should whites devote the best of themselves trying to prove the inferiority of blacks? That's just one of the observations made by Johnson. I suppose it was true through the 50s and maybe today that many Southerners tended to be fond of the blacks they knew, but to dislike the race in general and that many Northerners tended to love the race, but to have few personal relationships with blacks.
Over the past few days, as I've been reading this book, the controversy regarding Shirley Sherrod has been raging. A white, conservative blogger edited a speech by Sherrod to make what was a message on overcoming her own prejudices appear to be given by a racist who discriminated against the white farmers she was supposed to be helping. That none of the news outlets vetted the story before publishing it resulted in her firing from the USDA. The blogger's stated purpose: to show that the NAACP, which had sponsored Sherrod's speech, was as racist as the so-called Teabag movement. All that time and energy wasted and such harm done to race relations to prove a point that merits no such proof. If the NAACP is racist in its mission, that will be abundantly clear; no person or organization can hide its true character. What does the blogger's efforts say about the issue when it's all said and done.
Either way, lest I get to far astray, I enjoyed this book. Would I have passed if I could have at that time in history? Would I pass today? Was it a sign of courage or cowardice for the protagonist to let the world define him instead of conceding to the one-drop rule. I don't know, but in the end, I can't fault him for his choice.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Beautiful book
The Assistant, by Bernard Malamud. This is one of the most beautifully written stories I've read in a good while. It is a story that manages to be simple, yet complex, with simple, yet complex characters. In the end, Frank Alpine, the "Assistant," struggles to be a good person, like so many of us. He wants to be good, and manages for awhile, while backsliding often, and then trying to make it up as a way to redeem himself. Morris is steadfast and honest in the way he runs his store. Always perservering, always struggling. Morris seemingly has few moments of pure joy, yet he never shirks his duty to his customers, or more importantly, to his wife and daughter, unless he can't avoid it.
Life is difficult for most of the characters in the book. But they struggle and ultimately, Frank seems to be on the path to being good. He has become the reincarnation of Morris.
I really enjoyed this book and this beautiful story.
Reading: The Autobiography of a Former Colored Man (or something like that).
Listening: Atlas Shrugged. It gets stupider by the moment. At least the Fountainhead was a good soap opera and had a theme of striving for uncompromised excellence. A thoroughl anti-Christian book that touts, "Greed is good. Rich people are good and everyone else is a 'looter.'" Yep. All that looting by people who live in the slums; who didn't contribute to the building of this great country. Yep. That's right. But, I'm getting ahead of myself.
Life is difficult for most of the characters in the book. But they struggle and ultimately, Frank seems to be on the path to being good. He has become the reincarnation of Morris.
I really enjoyed this book and this beautiful story.
Reading: The Autobiography of a Former Colored Man (or something like that).
Listening: Atlas Shrugged. It gets stupider by the moment. At least the Fountainhead was a good soap opera and had a theme of striving for uncompromised excellence. A thoroughl anti-Christian book that touts, "Greed is good. Rich people are good and everyone else is a 'looter.'" Yep. All that looting by people who live in the slums; who didn't contribute to the building of this great country. Yep. That's right. But, I'm getting ahead of myself.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Steamy!
Lady Chatterley's Lover, by D. H. Lawrence. It didn't take long to see why this book was banned for years for obscenity. I'm not saying that the censors were correct; I'm just noting that it is more explicit that what one usually finds in classic literature. On the other hand, the cynic might question whether it was the explicit sexual references or the attack on the class system that lead to its banning?
Either way, the book is beautifully written with an intriguing premise: sex and sensuality as a form of life, not constrained by class or the mores of society. Lady Constance Chatterley is married to a man who is wealthy but paralyzed physically and emotionally. Given a choice of living with Clifford, a marriage that would stretch years into the future, living among other rich people in a coal mining villiage, or Oliver Mellors, her husband's gamekeeper, she makes her choice. It is rather surprising when she makes it.
It is refreshing to read a book where the heroine is intelligent and self-aware and not afraid to admit that she enjoys sex. She doesn' thave to have an "awakening" but rather she knows heerself and it's only a matter of finding it. In fact, rather than the sexless creatures that are usually portrayed, Oliver and Connie seem closer to real people in the development of their relationship.
Reading (and really enjoying): The Assistant by Bernard Malamud.
Listening to (and not particularly enjoying): Atlas Shrugged. When I've finished, will I be a convert, or will I still think it's repetitive and full of characters that all fall into one of two characters: either remarkably competent and extravagantly rich or foolishly incompetent and needy. Black and white. An apologist for greedy rich people. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Either way, the book is beautifully written with an intriguing premise: sex and sensuality as a form of life, not constrained by class or the mores of society. Lady Constance Chatterley is married to a man who is wealthy but paralyzed physically and emotionally. Given a choice of living with Clifford, a marriage that would stretch years into the future, living among other rich people in a coal mining villiage, or Oliver Mellors, her husband's gamekeeper, she makes her choice. It is rather surprising when she makes it.
It is refreshing to read a book where the heroine is intelligent and self-aware and not afraid to admit that she enjoys sex. She doesn' thave to have an "awakening" but rather she knows heerself and it's only a matter of finding it. In fact, rather than the sexless creatures that are usually portrayed, Oliver and Connie seem closer to real people in the development of their relationship.
Reading (and really enjoying): The Assistant by Bernard Malamud.
Listening to (and not particularly enjoying): Atlas Shrugged. When I've finished, will I be a convert, or will I still think it's repetitive and full of characters that all fall into one of two characters: either remarkably competent and extravagantly rich or foolishly incompetent and needy. Black and white. An apologist for greedy rich people. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
A little slow to post
I've been busy. I've made progress. I haven't been diligent about posting, but here goes.
Never Let Me Go, by Kazuo Ishiguro. Are we products of our environment? Can the will to live be bred out of humans or have it negated through environment? Those are just a couple of the questions raised in this book of a dystopian society. As far as I know, no one has successfully cloned a human, but it's bound to happen some day. Will there come a time when the anti-social members of society are cloned so that their clones can serve as incubators for spare body parts?
One of the questions raised in the book is whether such cloned people would have souls. I think they would, but would they be so placid about their fate, knowing that they live to make "donations" until such time as they "complete?" What kind of society could tolerate such a concept, even in the shadows? Or maybe, we're there already, given that the world knows that Chinese prisoners are often executed for their organs. There's some talk about human rights violations, but there's no loud hew and cry over the practice. And I have little doubt that many a wealthy Westerner would gladly pay for the organs of some pour, desolate (spiritless??) individual if it meant saving their own lives.
Perhaps the premise in the book can be likened to slavery or even to to holocaust, where once the slaves and Jews were dehumanized, it was easy to do unspeakable things to them, right Dr. Mengele? There were always a few who thought it proper to treat these people "humanely" but who weren't willing to advocate for them to have the full panoply of human rights.
Maybe it's a good thing that I didn't post shortly after I finished this book. It's been a couple of weeks since I inished it, but its depth continues to resonate with me.
Revolutionary Road, by Richard Yates. Alex loved this book. It was okay. Life in the suburbs can be vacuous and it is real easy to get lost in the great emptiness. Frank and April managed to lose everything that might have helped them avoid their fate, almost escaping for a brief moment before losing their derring-do. Maybe they never had a streak of adventure, or maybe, like Babbitt, they never learned to step away from conformity to find and be who they wanted be. John Givings, the character who's suffered through 37 or so electo-shock treatments seems to be the most honest of the characters, and perhaps the most sane. But, he's the one in the insane asylum. As a suburbanite,rather depressing on one hand; inspirational on the other.
Still listening to: Atlas Shrugged.
Reading on Nook: Lady Chatterly's Lover.
Never Let Me Go, by Kazuo Ishiguro. Are we products of our environment? Can the will to live be bred out of humans or have it negated through environment? Those are just a couple of the questions raised in this book of a dystopian society. As far as I know, no one has successfully cloned a human, but it's bound to happen some day. Will there come a time when the anti-social members of society are cloned so that their clones can serve as incubators for spare body parts?
One of the questions raised in the book is whether such cloned people would have souls. I think they would, but would they be so placid about their fate, knowing that they live to make "donations" until such time as they "complete?" What kind of society could tolerate such a concept, even in the shadows? Or maybe, we're there already, given that the world knows that Chinese prisoners are often executed for their organs. There's some talk about human rights violations, but there's no loud hew and cry over the practice. And I have little doubt that many a wealthy Westerner would gladly pay for the organs of some pour, desolate (spiritless??) individual if it meant saving their own lives.
Perhaps the premise in the book can be likened to slavery or even to to holocaust, where once the slaves and Jews were dehumanized, it was easy to do unspeakable things to them, right Dr. Mengele? There were always a few who thought it proper to treat these people "humanely" but who weren't willing to advocate for them to have the full panoply of human rights.
Maybe it's a good thing that I didn't post shortly after I finished this book. It's been a couple of weeks since I inished it, but its depth continues to resonate with me.
Revolutionary Road, by Richard Yates. Alex loved this book. It was okay. Life in the suburbs can be vacuous and it is real easy to get lost in the great emptiness. Frank and April managed to lose everything that might have helped them avoid their fate, almost escaping for a brief moment before losing their derring-do. Maybe they never had a streak of adventure, or maybe, like Babbitt, they never learned to step away from conformity to find and be who they wanted be. John Givings, the character who's suffered through 37 or so electo-shock treatments seems to be the most honest of the characters, and perhaps the most sane. But, he's the one in the insane asylum. As a suburbanite,rather depressing on one hand; inspirational on the other.
Still listening to: Atlas Shrugged.
Reading on Nook: Lady Chatterly's Lover.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Wasted potential
South of Broad, by Pat Conroy. I loved The Lords of Discipline. I liked My Losing Season. I saw The Prince of Tides and liked it well enough. And Conroy's forward in Gone With the End made the book sit a little better with me. So I was looking with great anticipation to readingthis book.
It started off with great promise. Leo Bloom Day, when we meet Leo Bloom, as well as Niles and Starla Whitehead and Betty, the orphans. There's Ike, the son of the new black football coach. The reader is introduced to Molly Huger and Fraser and Chad, the ultra-rich kids who were kicked out of their school for pot. And finally, the twins, Sheba and Trevor Poe, with the crazy mother and psychopathic, pedophilic father. Somehow, we're supposed to believe that in their senior year of high school, these ten diverse individuals formed such a tight bond that Niles, the moutain boy, could find love with Fraser, the rich (but homely) high school basketball star. Of course, the only two black characters, Ike and Betty would have to find love with each other. We're supposed to believe that the conversations among these friends was always witty and glittering and that all of them are very successful, particulaly Sheba, who is gorgeous and becomes a Hollywood star.
There's is a lot that Conroy asks us to believe. But the story is not particularly believable and ultimately, I have to admit that I missed the theme of this story. At best, it reminded me of a weaker version of The Big Chill, on the road to San Francisco, without a good soundtrack of course. Ultimately it starts to seem silly and preposterous.
It's beautifully written--that Conroy has a way with words. But this story is not among his best.
Current read: Never Let Me Go
Current listen: Atlas Shrugged
It started off with great promise. Leo Bloom Day, when we meet Leo Bloom, as well as Niles and Starla Whitehead and Betty, the orphans. There's Ike, the son of the new black football coach. The reader is introduced to Molly Huger and Fraser and Chad, the ultra-rich kids who were kicked out of their school for pot. And finally, the twins, Sheba and Trevor Poe, with the crazy mother and psychopathic, pedophilic father. Somehow, we're supposed to believe that in their senior year of high school, these ten diverse individuals formed such a tight bond that Niles, the moutain boy, could find love with Fraser, the rich (but homely) high school basketball star. Of course, the only two black characters, Ike and Betty would have to find love with each other. We're supposed to believe that the conversations among these friends was always witty and glittering and that all of them are very successful, particulaly Sheba, who is gorgeous and becomes a Hollywood star.
There's is a lot that Conroy asks us to believe. But the story is not particularly believable and ultimately, I have to admit that I missed the theme of this story. At best, it reminded me of a weaker version of The Big Chill, on the road to San Francisco, without a good soundtrack of course. Ultimately it starts to seem silly and preposterous.
It's beautifully written--that Conroy has a way with words. But this story is not among his best.
Current read: Never Let Me Go
Current listen: Atlas Shrugged
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Some progress
A Thousand Splendid Sunss. When I read books set in the 18th or 19th century, particularly Brit Lit, I often think how fortunate I am to live at a time and in a place where woman aren't second-class citizens and where there is upward mobility. This book is a reminder of the difficulty of life for women in the Middle East. Two women, both who have much to recommend them, totally dependent on Rasheed, who has no incentive to become educated, to be temperate, or least of all, a good lover. He knows he can have not one, but two women who are essentially his property; he has absolute control over them.
Beautifully written, it's hard not to fall in love with the characters of Mariam and Laila and to cry for suffering they endure. Poor Mariam, who knew few days of happiness once she deserted her mom and went in search for her father--at least not until she allowed herself to love and care for Laila and Aziza. Triumphant Laila, who finally got to marry her true love, but only after years of suffering marriage to Rasheed and having to deal with him putting her daughter, Aziza, in an orphanage rather than finding a way to feed all of them or to share what little they had.
I am blessed that I'm never likely to experience such things other than vicariously.
Persuasion, by Jane Austen. This is not my favorite book but once I finally sat down to read it and fell back to reading Austen's English as well as I do modern English, it went pretty fast. I knew that Anne Elliot would end up with Capt. Wentworth, the man she was engaged to marry some eight years earlier until a good friend persuaded her that it would be a poor match since his fortune was yet to be earned, notwithtanding his absolute confidence that he would have success at sea.
I like Jane Austen perhaps because her stories are reminders that money doesn't necessarily mean brains or good judgement, as is evident in Anne's father, who couldn't manage to live within his means but looks down on Capt Wentwoth's station in life. But even Anne, the heroine, is somewhat shallow in finding Mrs Clay unacceptable for her widowed father because she has freckles and doesn't come from a family of the same social level. Ultimately, Mrs Clay would not have been a good match, but for more substantive reasons than Anne has for objecting to her.
Predictable, but still good.
Reading: South of Broad, by Pat Conroy.
Listening: Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand.
Beautifully written, it's hard not to fall in love with the characters of Mariam and Laila and to cry for suffering they endure. Poor Mariam, who knew few days of happiness once she deserted her mom and went in search for her father--at least not until she allowed herself to love and care for Laila and Aziza. Triumphant Laila, who finally got to marry her true love, but only after years of suffering marriage to Rasheed and having to deal with him putting her daughter, Aziza, in an orphanage rather than finding a way to feed all of them or to share what little they had.
I am blessed that I'm never likely to experience such things other than vicariously.
Persuasion, by Jane Austen. This is not my favorite book but once I finally sat down to read it and fell back to reading Austen's English as well as I do modern English, it went pretty fast. I knew that Anne Elliot would end up with Capt. Wentworth, the man she was engaged to marry some eight years earlier until a good friend persuaded her that it would be a poor match since his fortune was yet to be earned, notwithtanding his absolute confidence that he would have success at sea.
I like Jane Austen perhaps because her stories are reminders that money doesn't necessarily mean brains or good judgement, as is evident in Anne's father, who couldn't manage to live within his means but looks down on Capt Wentwoth's station in life. But even Anne, the heroine, is somewhat shallow in finding Mrs Clay unacceptable for her widowed father because she has freckles and doesn't come from a family of the same social level. Ultimately, Mrs Clay would not have been a good match, but for more substantive reasons than Anne has for objecting to her.
Predictable, but still good.
Reading: South of Broad, by Pat Conroy.
Listening: Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Disturbing
The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, by Rebecca Skloot. Having taught the case Moore v. UCLA for years when I taught Property, this book immediately caught my attention. I was outaged that UCLA would, without consent or knowledge, take Mr. Moore's cells and develop a cell line estimated to be worth billions of dollars. That Moore would have no legal recourse was even more disturbing.
And then there's Henrietta Lacks. An African-American woman, years before Moore, she suffered the same fate. Mrs. Lacks was the victim cervical cancer. Her cancer cells were the first that scientists were able to culture and grow in a lab. They were special; given the appropriate nutrients, they continue to divide forever. As a result of the HPV virus, her cervical cells mutated in such a way as to become truly immortal.
It is probably not hyperbole to suggest that every single person alive today has benefitted in some way from Mrs. Lack's cells. But not Henrietta. In fact, she suffered a horrific death from her cancer. Given that her cancer was diagnosed in the early 1950s at a time long before chemotherapy drugs existed in any substantial form or radiation was fully understood, cervical cancer was essentially a death sentence for many women. So, at the risk of sounding cold or callous, her death is sad, but no more tragic than the loss of others who died from cancer then or who die today despite the advances in cancer treatment.
What is particularly tragic is that her family, including her five children, never benefitted from the millions (billions?) of dollars that have been generated from selling her cells or from the products devloped using those cells. Mrs. Lacks' family is poor; her children don't even have health insurance that would allow them to obtain the drugs that have been developed using their mother's cells. In fact, her family wasn't aware that Mrs. Lacks cells existed until years after her death when researchers contacted them so that research might be conducted on them.
All of Mrs. Lacks' children have suffered to some degree or another, but Mrs. Lacks' younger daughter, Deborah, seems to have suffered almost as much as did her mother. Growing up without a mother and poorly educated; being treated wth condescension by those who didn't bother to explain things to her or being deliberately misled by those who aimed to take advantage of her, she was never sure whom to trust.
This book describes Deborah's trials as well as those of her siblings. Skloot recounts the science behind the HeLa cell line and the scientists who developed it. In the process, she raises a rash of legal and ethical questions. More importantly, she brings the memory of Henrietta Lacks to life. As one of the original scientists remarked early in the book, when she saw Mrs. Lacks' painted toenails as she finished the autopsy, she was reminded that indeed Henrietta Lacks was a real person, a woman who at one time lived an ordinary life. This book serves a reminder to those of us who didn't have to worry about contracting polio or who have the benefit of drugs that are safe and effective of the contribution Mrs. Lacks made to science. And perhaps opening up to Skloot so that this book could become a reality resulted in Deborah gaining some degree of peace before her death.
A book well worth reading.
And then there's Henrietta Lacks. An African-American woman, years before Moore, she suffered the same fate. Mrs. Lacks was the victim cervical cancer. Her cancer cells were the first that scientists were able to culture and grow in a lab. They were special; given the appropriate nutrients, they continue to divide forever. As a result of the HPV virus, her cervical cells mutated in such a way as to become truly immortal.
It is probably not hyperbole to suggest that every single person alive today has benefitted in some way from Mrs. Lack's cells. But not Henrietta. In fact, she suffered a horrific death from her cancer. Given that her cancer was diagnosed in the early 1950s at a time long before chemotherapy drugs existed in any substantial form or radiation was fully understood, cervical cancer was essentially a death sentence for many women. So, at the risk of sounding cold or callous, her death is sad, but no more tragic than the loss of others who died from cancer then or who die today despite the advances in cancer treatment.
What is particularly tragic is that her family, including her five children, never benefitted from the millions (billions?) of dollars that have been generated from selling her cells or from the products devloped using those cells. Mrs. Lacks' family is poor; her children don't even have health insurance that would allow them to obtain the drugs that have been developed using their mother's cells. In fact, her family wasn't aware that Mrs. Lacks cells existed until years after her death when researchers contacted them so that research might be conducted on them.
All of Mrs. Lacks' children have suffered to some degree or another, but Mrs. Lacks' younger daughter, Deborah, seems to have suffered almost as much as did her mother. Growing up without a mother and poorly educated; being treated wth condescension by those who didn't bother to explain things to her or being deliberately misled by those who aimed to take advantage of her, she was never sure whom to trust.
This book describes Deborah's trials as well as those of her siblings. Skloot recounts the science behind the HeLa cell line and the scientists who developed it. In the process, she raises a rash of legal and ethical questions. More importantly, she brings the memory of Henrietta Lacks to life. As one of the original scientists remarked early in the book, when she saw Mrs. Lacks' painted toenails as she finished the autopsy, she was reminded that indeed Henrietta Lacks was a real person, a woman who at one time lived an ordinary life. This book serves a reminder to those of us who didn't have to worry about contracting polio or who have the benefit of drugs that are safe and effective of the contribution Mrs. Lacks made to science. And perhaps opening up to Skloot so that this book could become a reality resulted in Deborah gaining some degree of peace before her death.
A book well worth reading.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
An Accomplishment of Sorts
Because it's listed as one of the best novels of all time, I felt obliged to read Gone with the Wind. I've never wanted to read it. I never watched more than bits and pieces of the movie and never felt that my life was missing anything. But I set out to read it, encouraged a bit by the very elegant forward by Pat Conroy. So I read it. Screaming and cussing all the way.
In the end, if I read it as a story of survival of a strong female protagonist, then it was mostly a good soap opera. If I read it as an apology for the South and the "glorious cause" for which it seceded, then I'm not convinced. In fact, I came away even more convinced that the right side won the War and proud to be Yankee--after all, they won the War.
There wasn't a single likeable character. Not Scarlett, that conniving, self-centered witch. Not "Miss Melly" (who would have been "Miss Smelly" if she'd grown up around real people). Melanie, that gracious "great lady," who cheered the murder of a Union soldier. Not Prissy, who is portrayed as being the dumbest person who ever walked the earth. Not Ashley, who had about as much spirit as cold oatmeal, a weakling, willing to hide behind the skirts of Miss Smelly (I mean Melly). Not Rhett, just as Machiavellian as Scarlett. Perhaps, Mammy came closest to being likeable, but even she, critical of the "free issue n ," who were at least willing to support themselves rather than continuing on as a willing slave, had little to recommend her.
To the extent the book gave me some insight into so-called "Sourthern Pride" I suppose that is a merit of the book.
But it's done.
Now reading: The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, by Rebecca Skloot.
In the end, if I read it as a story of survival of a strong female protagonist, then it was mostly a good soap opera. If I read it as an apology for the South and the "glorious cause" for which it seceded, then I'm not convinced. In fact, I came away even more convinced that the right side won the War and proud to be Yankee--after all, they won the War.
There wasn't a single likeable character. Not Scarlett, that conniving, self-centered witch. Not "Miss Melly" (who would have been "Miss Smelly" if she'd grown up around real people). Melanie, that gracious "great lady," who cheered the murder of a Union soldier. Not Prissy, who is portrayed as being the dumbest person who ever walked the earth. Not Ashley, who had about as much spirit as cold oatmeal, a weakling, willing to hide behind the skirts of Miss Smelly (I mean Melly). Not Rhett, just as Machiavellian as Scarlett. Perhaps, Mammy came closest to being likeable, but even she, critical of the "free issue n ," who were at least willing to support themselves rather than continuing on as a willing slave, had little to recommend her.
To the extent the book gave me some insight into so-called "Sourthern Pride" I suppose that is a merit of the book.
But it's done.
Now reading: The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, by Rebecca Skloot.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Quick turnaround
Justice, by Michael Sandel. I have at least a passing understanding of the philsophies of Kant, Jeremy Bentham, and others as they attempted to develop a theory of justice. The ideas of justice expressed in the book have already influenced the way I view some of the concepts I teach. In class recently, my discussion about the employment-at-will doctrine was heavily influenced by some of the concepts stated in the book. It was fun to see the students thinking through the questions I posed.
A good book. Sometimes a bit dry, but perhaps it merits my re-reading.
Child 44, by Tom Rob Smith. Are you kidding me? If this book were any more improbable, it would have sprouted wings and flown around the room.
As a suspense book, it was a page turner. As a reminder of the brutality of the Stalinist regime, it stoked my interest. But that said, the plot was totally implausible. That two people, Leo and his wife, Raisa, with no training in criminal investigation in a culture where crime officially didn't exist so that to suggest such was a crime against the State, could discover the identity of a serial killer and confront him is nothing short of a flight of fancy. That they could do so when the murders stretched the length of the country when traveling without papers makes the story even more unbelievable. That a former security police officer, discredited and demoted to the lowest of jobs could manage to solve the crime, elude detection as he snuck back into Moscow, escape from a prison train, and still escape capture with no money just stretches an improprobale story even more. And to end the storys with the hokiest, dime-store ending--of the millions of people who lived in the Soviet Union, the perp was Leo's brother, whom he hadn't seen in 20 years? Yeah, right.
If reading about a serial killer of chidren can be called "light reading", as light reading goes, it was mildly entertaining, but having read in another phase of my reading life a number of tightly written stories of Soviet Russia (The Charm School), this one doesn't come close.
Listening to I, Claudius.
Reading, Gone with the Wind??
A good book. Sometimes a bit dry, but perhaps it merits my re-reading.
Child 44, by Tom Rob Smith. Are you kidding me? If this book were any more improbable, it would have sprouted wings and flown around the room.
As a suspense book, it was a page turner. As a reminder of the brutality of the Stalinist regime, it stoked my interest. But that said, the plot was totally implausible. That two people, Leo and his wife, Raisa, with no training in criminal investigation in a culture where crime officially didn't exist so that to suggest such was a crime against the State, could discover the identity of a serial killer and confront him is nothing short of a flight of fancy. That they could do so when the murders stretched the length of the country when traveling without papers makes the story even more unbelievable. That a former security police officer, discredited and demoted to the lowest of jobs could manage to solve the crime, elude detection as he snuck back into Moscow, escape from a prison train, and still escape capture with no money just stretches an improprobale story even more. And to end the storys with the hokiest, dime-store ending--of the millions of people who lived in the Soviet Union, the perp was Leo's brother, whom he hadn't seen in 20 years? Yeah, right.
If reading about a serial killer of chidren can be called "light reading", as light reading goes, it was mildly entertaining, but having read in another phase of my reading life a number of tightly written stories of Soviet Russia (The Charm School), this one doesn't come close.
Listening to I, Claudius.
Reading, Gone with the Wind??
Saturday, February 6, 2010
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???
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???
Friday, January 15, 2010
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.
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.
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