A Good Day's Work - an Iowa Farm in the Great Depression (Dwight W. Hoover, 2007)

Another very interesting read centered in rural Iowa in the Depression. Unusual that two books like this (the second being "Little Heathens - summarized here) were published about the same time. Like "Little Heathens," this one had great reviews in the Wall Street Journal and nytimes.com.

I was looking forward to reading this quite a bit, but in the end I must say I liked "Little Heathens" better. This guy was just a bit too clinical. Plus he spent lots of time discussing livestock, 4H and other topics to which I had very limited exposure.

That being said, I much enjoyed the book. The author is writing about a very different time, but much of the talk is familiar and certainly triggers recollections of conversations I heard growing up. As with "Little Heathens," it is striking how rapidly the world of agriculture changed in a very short window of time. This is not a new insight, but the pace of agricultural change for centuries was minimal, then things picked up moving into the 20th century, now an entirely different world . . .

The Overcoat and other short stories (Nikolai Gogol, 1835, 1836, 1842)

Patricia had taken this book out of the library because "The Overcoat" is mentioned in a movie we've rented ("The Namesake"). So I read the four short stories.

I like Gogol's stuff. (And his book "Dead Souls" is the first book listed on this website.) The Overcoat is a sad satire of an anonymous clerk who doesn't have much of a life, lacks cash, and is the butt of jokes at his one social outlet - his job at the ministry. They laugh about his worn-out coat (call it "the mantle"). The thing finally falls apart to where he must buy a new one - but it requires 80 rubles. After scrimping for six months - and anticipating the new coat through consultations with his tailor and window-shopping material - he finally gets the coat. Everyone praises the coat. But things don't turn out so well.

The Thin Red Line (James Jones, 1962)

I really didn't know a thing about this book or the author, but definitely would highly recommend it. Jones also wrote "From Here to Eternity," which now is on my to-read list.

This is a fictionalized account of WWII fighting in Guadalcanal. I'll never know what war is like, and am sure that's a good thing. But one wonders. This kind of book tries to convey the feeling. Reminded me of the feel of The Red Badge of Courage.

Jones takes a large number of characters in "C for Charlie" company as they arrive at the island. Takes us through the process of getting used to the climate and terrain, killing time in camp, the initial battles, the fear and paralysis experienced by many, the unexpected bravery - or just orneriness in many cases - shown by others. The first battle scene is wonderful. Interesting perspectives on leadership.

I haven't seen the movie (filmed in 1998). The cast has a huge number of what are now household names: Sean Penn, Woody Harrelson, Adrien Brody, John Travolta, Nick Nolte, James Caviezel, John Cusack, John C. Reilly, George Clooney. I need to see this.

Little Heathens - Hard Times and High Spirits on an Iowa Farm during the Great Depression (Mildred Armstrong Kalish, 2007)

This book had very strong reviews in the Wall Street Journal and nytimes.com. So I gave it a try. And liked it quite a bit.

As the title spells out in detail, the author grew up on an Iowa farm in the 1930s. She became an English professor and certainly has both an excellent memory and a good writing style.

Here in 2007, stories of a kid growing up in the Depression seem to describe a long-lost era. My major take-away from the book was the similarities - not the differences - between the author's world and the world in which I grew up in the late 1950s and early 1960s. It actually only was 30 years prior to my own childhood.

I'm guessing the similarities arise because my world was populated by characters who were adults in the 1930s - my grandparents and their peer group - and another set of characters - my parents etc. - who were shaped by preceding generation. So when this author talks about saving everything - down to pieces of string and bits of foil - I can relate. And when she describes the advice from her elders about never wasting time and the folly of idleness - I can relate. And the gardening stories. And the respect for elders. Also little things like the description of the smell of the green walnuts they harvested.

Of course there have been big changes in mechanization - both in the ag operations and in the farm house. And these have drastically altered the daily routine as described by the author. But much of the underlying attitude persisted.

Goya (Robert Hughes, 2003)

I read at this at the gym and much liked it.

Biographies like this are great in part because it's a unique centering for a description of the history around the subject of the biography. I'm starting to pick out more biographies like this (along the lines of the Tolstoy biography discussed here (September 4, 2006 entry); just took out one on Goethe).

Goya lived a long time and saw lots. You read a lot about the high level of repression in Spain over the centuries (including the Inquisition, which was winding down around the time Goya came around). Anyway, this seemed to lead to about the backwardness you'd expect once they'd kicked out the Muslims and Jews - and more progressive Christian folks also just left, especially after the frustration of the reforms hoped for after Napoleon's ejection. Goya himself left Spain in his old age and died in France. What a society.

Anyway, Hughes goes through Goya's early days trying to make his way out of the provinces and into Madrid (which was pretty much backwards also). He thrives, has commissions from royals and other important folk. Had a wife but never wrote about her; rumors of mistresses but nothing very compelling. Liked bullfighting. Painted some unusual subjects.

Then along came Napoleon. Hughes says the native response was the first modern guerrilla war, which may be true, who knows. The activities and tone certainly seemed like a pretty good precursor to the 20th century Spanish civil war. One of the most famous Goya works ("3rd of May") commemorates the Napeolonic struggle. It was interesting to read the Spanish perspective on this, different than the Wellington biography from a few years ago.

Goya became deaf, took on the Inquisition (but subtly). There is a Hollywood biography named "The Naked Maja" which tries to build on the mistress thing.

It was interesting to read in the paper a couple weeks ago about the expansion of the Prado in Madrid (and the extent of its collection); it was built in Goya's time but certainly not for an art museum.

Remembrance of Things Past (Vol 1-2) (Marcel Proust)

Another famous work that I haven't previously had (or taken) the opportunity to read. I understand that a better translation of the title would be "In Search of Lost Time." It's about memory. I'm reading the French Pleiade edition translated by C.K. Scott Moncrieff and Terence Kilmartin.

The book generally prints at around 3,200 pages, I understand. It was written by Proust over numerous years in seven volumes. The translation that I'm reading placed the first two volumes in one book that runs 1,030 pages. So this seems like a good point at which to take a breather. I've now made my way through Volumes 1-2: "Swann's Way" and "Within a Budding Grove."

Proust is an interesting character in his own right, you can read about him here.

I don't know quite how to describe his writing style. Some elements - 1) he goes into long descriptions of virtually everything he encounters; 2) he goes into rhapsodies over things he appreciates or in which he finds beauty (hawthorn); 3) he has an incredible knack for observing - and describing - human nature; 4) it makes you think about how much of each person's world is tied up in the person's unique perception of what he or she is experiencing (recognizing this is also a hoary philosophical problem).

I'm hoping that the reader can learn something about human nature, especially my own, and a thing or two about slowing down and appreciating the beauty around me. Proust is quite good at this, though I don't think it's his primary intention.

Swann's Way includes the famous scene where the narrator bites into a madeleine (a trigger for memory).

I'm noticing now that Proust is referred to constantly in other literature (not to mention "Little Miss Sunshine"), including a book of Iowa reminiscing that I'm reading right now.

Swann's Way: life at Combray (long walks; elderly relatives; the author's room and goodnight to mother); Swann's relationship with Odette; Vanteuil (the sonata; his wretched daughter); the Verdurins (social climbers; also associated with Odette; gatherings of "the faithful"); Gilberte (Swann's daughter; first love).

Within a Budding Grove: staying at Balbec with grandmother; the "little band" (including Albertine); Elstir (the artist); relationship with Saint-Loup.

The timeline of the story moves back and forth, with different characters appearing in different stages.

I definitely want to own a copy of this book, it should not be missed. More to come.

The Aeneid (Virgil, 29-19 B.C. (Robert Fagles translation)

Somehow I have never gotten around to reading this. It was surprisingly enjoyable and worked well for reading on the stairmaster.

Some thoughts:

1. This work definitely is part of the traditional canon; references to it pop up all over the place. For example, it's been mentioned within the last couple days in the two other books that I have in process.

2. The foreward was helpful in explaining Virgil's purpose - basically he was writing something that put the founding of Rome and its empire-building and law-giving in a heroic aspect. He built directly on, and borrowed from, Homer. He also used the underworld visit as a device to praise the top political figures of his day.

3. Dido was a really strong character.

4. The underworld scenes are fascinating and seem to cover what I know of most religions' key elements of the afterlife. I don't know that much about Dante but he seemed to borrow very heavily from this (I do recall Virgil was even his guide as he passed through the underworld).

5. The battle sequences are full of graphic violence. Now I'm thinking this year's surprise hit movie of ancient warfare ("The 300") - which I avoided because I thought it would be too violent - may have been consistent with Virgil's descriptions.

6. He emphasizes piety and interaction with the gods as the key to Rome's success.

Robert Spring and a Whole Lot of Friends (Katzin Concert Hall, September 9, 2007)

The ASU faculty and student recital season ends in late April, so we were glad to see things starting up again. We went to a concert featuring a clarinet player. The guy (Robert Spring) has an effective personality and is quite the showman. The first half of the program involved some brand new compositions, including one piece (Chamber Concerto #2) where the composer was present for its premiere. It involved violin, viola, cello, percussion. I was ok with it, PJ not so much.

The second part of the concert involved the clarinet guy and piano accompaniments.

Very much worth the trip down, it's very nice to have access to live music like this.

Paddy Whacked - The Untold Story of the Irish American Gangster (T.J. English, 2005)

This book turned out to be very interesting, and not only because it discussed my wife's grandfather's gangster behaviors (he's shown below on a page with his business competitor, Al Capone). It's helpful in understanding how the Irish came to be disproportionately represented in politics, police and fire departments, etc., which in turn helps explain how in the 20th century it came to be "cool" to be considered Irish, why St. Patrick's day became a big deal in the U.S., ensuing marketing and merchandising, etc. (I've actually wondered about this ever since attending ND.)

Anyway, my take is that the Irish arrived in the U.S. in the wake of the potato famine at a time when the major urban centers were growing to critical mass along the size parameters with which we're familiar today. The author explains that many of the Irish were used to organizing underground in relation to their English overlords, and transferred this skill set to the U.S. Overt vote-buying via taking care of neighborhoods; ability to run criminal enterprises by the critical combination of controlling key politicians, police and judges.

The Italians came along and eventually took over the criminal side of things, but deferred to the Irish as a practical matter in controlling government and political posts. The Irish had demonstrated great skill in this - plus they spoke English much better.

One element is the high degree of prejudice that the Irish experienced - which is interesting to think about in light of current immigrant issues. The prejudice caused them to band together, and also freed them to pursue activities that were, let's say, outside the mainstream.

It seems that these groups were incredibly effective at running criminal activities, including a very high (and increasingly public) level of "vice" activities that were being gotten away with (because of paid-off cops and judges). This led to a backlash - various anti-corruption efforts culminating in Prohibition in 1919. Which completely backfired.

I didn't really think of how Prohibition gave these gangsters access to the really big money. Overnight, a product with national demand was outlawed. Who better to fill the demand than the only well-organized criminal gangs? It seems that Prohibition gave the groups a scope and cash-generating capability that would have been beyond their imaginations a few years earlier. In turn this led to more aggressive warfare among gangs.

This was the period in which Spike O'Donnell turns up, fresh out of jail from a bank robbery in 1926 and instigator of beer wars for several years. Too bad, the author gives him little space in the book; describes Spike as "an established pick-pocket, burglar, labor slugger, and killer (he was twice tried for murder and accused of several others), Spike was also a religious man who rarely missed Sunday Mass at St. Peter's Catholic Church." Also notes the usual, i.e. that he was the first target of a Thompson submachine gun (or "tommy gun") in the beer wars, favored polka-dot ties and a felt fedora, survived at least 10 attempts on his life, etc.

Anyway, it's all very interesting, including stories about how Joe Kennedy made stacks of money running booze in the Prohibition (and how this leads to the theory of mob involvement in the JFK assassination); how the phrase "slip a mickey" came out of Mickey Finn's place in Chicago, where folks were regularly robbed with this technique; how Hollywood glamorized the Irish gangster via stars like James Cagney; how "On the Waterfront" was based on a true story of corruption on the docks. Etc.

Ghost Soldiers (Hampton Sides, 2001)

This book covered a pretty amazing WW II story about which I knew nothing - the rescue of 500 or so survivors of the Bataan death march who were held at Cabanatuan prison camp on the Philippine island of Luzon.

The book gave the background on MacArthur's departure, the surrender at Bataan, the march to captivity, etc. Lots of detail on the maltreatment of prisoners by the Japanese - but I liked that the author seemed pretty balanced in this portrayal, not just out to demonize the captors.

The stories about surviving years in prison were really interesting. The book also talks in detail about the Ranger unit that accomplished the rescue (Colonel Mucci, Captain Prince, etc.).

The author also spends a fair amount of time describing the role played by the Philippine guerrillas in support of the Rangers - things wouldn't have turned out well without these folks. Even down to the water buffalo carts used to transport the freed prisoners to safety (many of whom were unable to walk).

Stalingrad: The Infernal Cauldron (Stephen Walsh, 2001)

I never get tired of reading about the battle of Stalingrad. It's pretty hard to imagine a more dramatic setup, let alone how the battle itself played out. I very much liked a previous book on the battle, which was moreso focused on the individual in the context of the battle, the suffering on both sides, etc. (see post of November 28, 2006).

This book seemed interesting mostly for the pictures, but also provided a really valuable overview of the context of the battle, and the context of the battle within the overall war. More detail about placement and movement of individual units - which is not of great interest to me, and is too complicated to follow anyway. I did like the explanation of the way the Germans tried to use encirclement techniques, and the "deep operation" theory of the Russians (which I didn't understand much). Also Stalin's interference and blundering in the early days (compounded by his 1930s purge of the officer corps).

But the overall discussion was interesting and very helpful in putting the pieces together for this part of the war. And the photos are great.

Ulysses (James Joyce, 1918)

I read this in part because it keeps showing up on lists of the "greatest novels of 20th century," sometimes as high as number one. I made it all the way through 800+ pages because I kept thinking something was going to happen. One day in Dublin (June 16, 1904). Stephen Dedalus, Leopold Bloom. The book is full of literary allusions (most of which unfortunately are lost on me). It is modeled after Homer's epic of the same name (which would be of more interest if I knew that story better). The stream of consciousness stuff is fun for awhile - it makes one realize how much of time our minds are working just that way. Completely different writing styles in each chapter. Extremely clever.

Suite Francaise (Irene Nemirovsky, 1941)

This book is really unusual, though in large part for reasons the author (Irene Nemirovsky) would not have anticipated. Nemirovsky was a Russian of Jewish descent who had lived in France for quite a few years with her husband (Michael Epstein) and their two children. All were Catholic, the children were French citizens.

Nemirovsky lived in occupied France following the Nazi roll-over of the French army in June 1940. During the occupation, she conceived the idea of a five-part story describing the flight from Paris, life in an occupied town, etc. She finished two parts (or at least had handwritten manuscripts).

These were dangerous times for folks like her, and eventually she was sent to Auschwitz, where she died shortly thereafter.
One of her daughters found the manuscripts in a suitcase a few years ago, and the book was published.

I didn't think the book itself was all that great, though who knows how it may have worked if it had been completed. The part about the occupied town seemed almost idyllic. I did find interesting her description of the way that French soldiers - in the aftermath of WWI - weren't all that anxious to knock themselves out just a few years later in WWII.

The most compelling parts - and they are compelling indeed - are the two appendices. Appendix I - a series of notes - discusses her goals and insecurities for the novel. Appendix II consists of correspondence generated in trying to get her out of Nazi custody. Her family was pretty well connected and they tried everything. Including looking for snippets of anti-Bolshevik or anti-Jewish text in her books, and trotting out a letter of recommendation from billeted Nazi soldiers.

Her husband eventually volunteered to take her place in the camps, which was impossible. Anyway, he was caught up and also died in the camps within months.

Appendix I made you feel like you knew the author, her fears, uncertainties, plans. Appendix II is heartbreaking.

Anniversary

This website is now one year old.

An Illustrated History of The First World War (John Keegan, 2001)

As can be quickly told from looking at the list of books during the past year, I don't ever get tired of reading about World War I. (I also like Keegan's stuff, including this book.)

Keegan is a British war historian who is a good writer and knows lots about WWI. I took this book off the shelf for the pictures, but the overview of the entire war, pretty much all theaters, turns out to be highly useful.

But the photos make the book. I had never seen the vast majority of these. Going from the early days of optimism, through the trenches, through end of war, up to the cemeteries and memorials erected worldwide. The photos are stunning, and bring the written materials to life in a way that easily justifies the "worth a thousand words" cliche.

This war was simply amazing. It's been summed up far better than I can hope to do. The unbelievable trench system in the West; centuries-old empires breaking down; emerging airplane and tank technology; poison gas; 19th century infantry tactics against entrenched machine guns; millions of artillery shells altering landscapes; a devastated populace left behind in most countries, and an amazingly quick trip into WWII. Etc. Wow.

Take a close look at Otto Dix's triptych for one post-war German look at things. Or read this book.

The Origin of Species (Charles Darwin, 1859)

I have read descriptions of this book so often that I thought I just as well take a tour through it. My impression is that Darwin was a thoughtful, kindly, grandfatherly type of scholar with tons of field experience; he knew his book would spark a strong reaction, I'm guessing he had no idea how strong.

He actually uses phrases like "survival of the fittest." Probably didn't foresee eugenic and other applications. Probably did foresee the potential theological debate, though for the life of me I can't figure out why it matters so much to so many.

I don't read natural history at all, and don't intend to. So lots of what he talks about is not of much interest to me. I did find the degree of detail pretty surprising. He discusses how bees build cells in hives; drones; lots of details about pigeons (a special interest of his); hybrids (and resulting sterility); all in the context of natural selection. The guy clearly spent a lot of time in the field and wasn't just theorizing.

He addresses, in detail, what remain the major objections to his theory - issues like the evolution of sophisticated organs such as the eye, and the lack of transitional creatures in the fossil record.

I found quite interesting his comparisons of natural selection and "breeding" by human intervention. There are some useful comparisons.

The volume included "The Voyage of the Beagle," but I took a pass. In fact, I skipped about 100 pages (or 20%) of the book.

I don't think the importance of the book can be exaggerated, so I'm glad to have spent some time with it.

Once (June 24, 2007)

Patricia, Patrick and I went to see this movie at Camelview. I'd recommend seeing it. The movie is about a street performer in Ireland; he's pretty much in the down-and-out stage. A Czech immigrant gets interested; turns out she is a very fine singer and pianist. So they make music, and their relationship is nice.

They make a recording, using some other street performers to constitute "the band." (I guess this aspect had some genesis in the lead actor's personal story.)

When I was watching the movie, I was surprised at how much singing was included, and felt the plot was not developed much. (Those two issues go hand in hand, as the inclusion of several three-five minute songs really cuts down the time available for the story.)

But I realize I missed the point. This was a musical. It just didn't look like a traditional musical. It had about the story line depth for a traditional musical - which is fine, many of those are great stories. So I conclude that I liked this.

I heard that the production budget was only $150,000 or so, which seems unbelievable.

The Great Gatsby (F. Scott Fitzgerald, 1925)

This book has become a staple of high school and college reading lists, but I never ran into it. Or had much interest. Then I keep reading how it is one of the most highly considered novels in American history (if not the Great American Novel), so thought I'd give it a try.

But it didn't do much for me. Jay Gatsby is supposed to be an interesting character, but to me he's rather a caricature instead. Daisy is pretty much over the top also, as is her husband. I must have missed something.

It's a quick read and worth touring through. Now I'm interested in seeing a movie version (there have been several).

The foreward includes some interesting correspondence by the author. Fitzgerald actually talked about books remaining in the public eye longer if you could get teachers to put them on reading lists. Funny that it happened.

The Third Wave (Alvin Toffler, 1980)

I pretty much stick to history and novels, with occasional biography. I avoid self-help books, business books, and idea books. So this book was quite different for me.

Toffler tries to organize history into the First Wave (agriculture - lasted 10,000 years) and the Second Wave (industrial society - lasted 300 years). Says we are on the cusp of the Third Wave - and tries to describe its nascent characteristics and make some predictions.

It was interesting how he threaded together the elements of Wave 1 and 2. Made some connections that I certainly wouldn't have thought up. The problem is that he works too hard to divide everything into just two categories. And apparently it doesn't strike him as odd that the cross-over into Wave 3 is happening just as he is at his desk writing about it. My guess is that authors from many periods would feel that the moment in which they are writing is uncertain and that great change is in the air. With hindsight an author can of course classify and find order in things that already took place.

Nonetheless, it was well worth reading. His predictions about technology-enabled decentralization are interesting, for example. This was a gift from Kerry, thank you very much.

The Vikings (Else Roesdahl, 1998)

It does make you wonder what was up with these folks. Moving from Scandinavia to Iceland, Greenland and North America is pretty well discussed, but they also went all over Europe - taking Paris and establishing a kingdom in Italy, etc. Also moved east, referred to as "Rus", showed up in Constantinople. I suppose there was some pressure for younger sons to seek opportunity, or pure sense of adventure, or whatever - and as it worked out well, they kept going and going.

Terror to communities. Big role in England. Normandy, of course. Start showing up shortly after Charlemagne, cut deals with his three sons. Era probably ended with Battle of Hastings in 1066, which involved Viking descendants all around - but also was emblematic of how they had embedded themselves locally. The days of raiding and plundering were pretty much over.

The manner in which these folks showed up and wreaked havoc must have been awe-inspiring. Though there were plenty of other violent opportunists floating around in those days, it seems. The Viking must have had more style.

Alexander the Great: (Norman F. Cantor, 2005 (published posthumously))

Short and highly readable, maybe that was the author's point? This was so cursory it was hardly worth the bother. Anyway, it's still an interesting summary of things Alexander.

There were a couple of useful perspectives, including that Alexander was primarily an adventurer with some good administrative skills; the author thinks he gets way too much credit for empire-building, when in fact pretty much everything fell apart right after his death. Cantor also does a good job of putting Alexander into the context of his time; points out that the Greeks often were romanticized yet constantly fought, mistreated women, were regularly brutal, etc.

Cantor gets lots of favorable attention but I'm not going to pick up his stuff again. "In the Wake of the Plague" and "Inventing the Middle Ages" weren't that great, either.

The Face of Battle (John Keegan, 1976)

Keegan tries to explore how it feels on a battlefield from the standpoint of the front-line participant. This is necessarily a difficult task, but it makes for a really interesting read. So much war writing is done from the perspective of the generals.

Much of the book is taken up with three case studies: Agincourt (1415), Waterloo (1815) and the Somme (focusing on the initial day, July 1, 1916). He selected these because they were pretty discrete battle situations, and quite a bit of documentary evidence exists. These also were selected to demonstrate the progression of the battlefield situation over the centuries.

Agincourt of course involved archers and knights; in addition to the battle itself, Keegan discusses pre-battle activities, treatment of prisoners, etc. He points out how the mayhem was limited - when the battle consists of guys swinging heavy swords at each other, the amount of damage that can be inflicted, the scope of the battlefield, and the duration of the battle are necessarily limited. Though the longbow archers were introducing change.

Waterloo was a longer battle, much noisier, and involved the risk of cannonballs coming from off in the distance and killing soldiers or taking off limbs. Keegan didn't seem to think the point of attack was all that different from Agincourt, though guns increased the range and the duration of the battle.

The Somme had some front-line similarities, but now the scope of battle was changing rapidly. The artillery and shelling came from far away; the size of the battlefield had enlarged dramatically. A guy hidden in a machine gun nest could hold groups at bay. Folks in the front line areas were constantly subject to getting nailed by shells. Very impersonal. While the artillery wasn't necessarily accurate, it was interesting to read how the British advance was supposed to be timed to follow closely behind a "curtain of fire."

Anyway, Keegan cites various primary sources, compares the three battles in detail and tries to draw some conclusions about where the concept of "battle" is headed. His conclusion is quite interesting, especially because it was written in the 1970s. Keegan doesn't think that armed conflict is over, but he does feel that the traditional set-piece battle setting is largely a thing of the past. He was writing before the fall of the Iron Curtain, at a time when the military was still preparing for a large European land war. Keegan felt that technological change has moved past what individuals can handle well. The theater of battle is immense; danger comes from all sorts of unseen places; noise and overall mayhem is everywhere; duration of major battles now can last for days. Keegan feels individuals really can't handle this effectively.

So he foresees limited actions - terrorists, for example. "The militant young . . . will fight for the causes which they profess not through the mechanisms of the state and its armed power but, where necessary, against them, by clandestine and guerrilla methods . . . the suspicion grows that battle has already abolished itself."

Read at the gym.

Lord Jim (Joseph Conrad, 1900)

I've wanted to read this book ever since we had a paperback version laying around at the farm. I liked it quite a bit, but I did think it was longer than necessary.

The premise is great - exploring what happens to someone that makes the wrong decision in a crucial situation that comes back to haunt him. Jim's decision revolved around a rusting ship filled with Muslim pilgrims; he was the ship's mate. The consequences led him to various postings progressively farther east, ultimately leading him to a deep-jungle posting where he experienced great success and then another failure. The narrator (Marlowe) finds Jim's case interesting because he is "one of us."

It does make you think about quick decisions under pressure, some of which are not good decisions. Most of the time there are few or no consequences, sometimes it's a disaster. We've all been in some version of this situation.

A good summary of the book can be found here.

I like Conrad's stuff, though I preferred "Victory" and "Heart of Darkness" over this one.

One of Ours (Willa Cather, 1922)

I like Willa Cather's writing a ton. Especially "Death Comes to the Archbishop;" "Song of the Lark;" and "My Antonia." Plus a bunch of her short stories.

I didn't enjoy this book very much while reading it. The book won a Pulitzer Prize, but I wasn't even aware of it; saw references in some of the other WWI stuff I read recently (here and here and here). The references were not flattering; Kennedy felt Cather didn't know much about the war, and that her writing glorified and romanticized the war in an outdated fashion.

So I was looking for faults and found them. Cather clearly hadn't the knowledge level of Shaara or Remarque regarding WWI. And I thought she was too hard on the small town Nebraska, and way too romantic about France.

Then the last five pages of the book wrapped up the entire thing beautifully and the entire thing made sense. She wasn't writing so much about the War as a type of individual and the way in which this type of individual responded to the War. It wasn't intended to be an "objective" or "comprehensive" look at the war, which functioned as a setting. One neat (and short) passage involves the protagonist visiting one of the local girls, Gladys Farmer, before heading off to France; marvelously poignant (she was one of a handful in the town that understood him, and vice versa); you can read it here.

And in that way the book works extremely well. And makes you kind of sad in the end.

Two ASU events

On Thursday I went to a "symposium" at ASU where three visiting professors presented short papers about aspects of the concert that we're performing on April 26. First speaker, a rabbi, went through the union prayer book and its history, Bloch's approach in condensing elements of the prayer book into the choral work, etc. And he said Bloch at that stage was not particularly religious, calling him a "seventh day absentist." (Everybody laughed.) Speaker number two was from Claremont College; he focused on Bernstein's Jeremiah Lamentations. Speaker number three was the most interesting; he was a music professor from University of Georgia and discussed sources of the music, played clips, etc. He described a theory - not proven but much work went into trying to prove it - that Gregorian Chant was based on sources from Jewish worship. Some of the figures were very similar. And he played the orchestral lead-in to Bloch's Sacred Service, which sounded extra nice given the buildup. It's going to be good.

On Friday, Patrick was in town for an interview; he, Patricia and I went to ASU to see a concert put on by a group in which Meghan Jones performs (the "Pitch Forks", some dated info about the group is here). Paul Jr. and Nedda also attended. A fine time was had by all, including a late dinner at Z/Tempe.

Moby Dick (Herman Melville, 1851)

I had never gotten around to reading this novel, but keep seeing it referred to as America's greatest novel. The story is well known, though I actually had no idea how the book ended. In fact, I never seemed to get much past the part where Queequeg is sharing an iffy inn room with Ishmael near the very beginning of the story.

Ahab is a scary character though Melville humanized him a bit via sympathy for Starbuck and Pip. The long passages about whaling detail are as tiresome as advertised (sorry).

So this was good and well worth working through, but I'm not sure how it gets on "greatest" lists.

I posted a couple of the illustrations, by some guy named Rockwell Kent. Those were very entertaining, and there were lots of them scattered throughout the book. Helped break up the "Modern Library" edition, which ran just over 800 pages (read at gym).

Info about Melville, who is a pretty interesting guy, can be found here. The article says "Moby Dick" wasn't that popular when it first appeared. Interesting.

Silas Marner (George Eliot, 1861)

This is a lovely story by George Eliot (she was a Victorian author).

Wronged man moves to new town (Raveloe) and continues his profession (weaver); becomes a miser; his gold is stolen; gradually reenters society after taking on a foundling daughter (she of golden hair). Dunstan Cass is the bad guy. Everyone gets what they deserve.

George Eliot is interesting, I picked this up because I had enjoyed her Middlemarch. Good reads.

ASU Concert (Sing Joyfully! Music of the Jewish Tradition)

Patricia and I attended a concert at Katzen Hall at ASU on March 31, 2007. I picked her up after work at Mayo Hospital, then we threaded our way through some surface streets due to a road closure on the 101. Ended up missing the first half hour of the concert.

But we really liked the portion that we heard. This concert is part of a series culminating in the performance of Bloch's "Sacred Service" that our ASU Choral Union will be performing on April 26. So the program was themed to music with Jewish connections (broadly defined).

Big crowd, primarily Jewish. Very involved in the music. Two works were by contemporary composers who were in attendance, so that was neat. I liked that the program had lots of variety - solo mezzosoprano, piano-with-cello, chorus-accompanied-by-violinist, etc.

They performed some Jewish folk music at the end, and the crowd clearly enjoyed those songs a bunch. A lady sitting near us was explaining things, she was from Rogers Park (Chicago) and had grown up with this music.

The Collected Stories (Isaac Bashevis Singer)

This was a 600+ page collection of short stories; I tried the book because I had enjoyed another novel by Singer (described here). Singer was born in Poland in 1917 so was very close to the persecutions of the mid 20th century. He wrote in Yiddish, did some of the translations himself. I very much enjoyed his stories, many of which are fables set in small Eastern European villages. Others are set in Tel Aviv after the founding of the Israel state. Others are set in New York City among Jews who had emigrated into America either before or after WW II.

The stories set in the Eastern Europe villages evoke images of a lifestyle that probably disappeared by WW II. Stories of peasants and their doings; stories of imps and dybbuks; Jewish ritual; etc. The stories set in the U.S. give some kind of glimpse of what things were like for those that weren't killed in the camps - alive, but having a lot to deal with.

Some repetition among the stories, but I much liked the collection. Vivid, interesting. Singer could reach back to the old pre-20th century tales and bring things forward to the postwar era.

I never really knew anything about Yiddish - a language in widespread use in Eastern Europe and thereabouts before Hitler got busy. Here's a description, it's interesting.

To the Last Man (Jeff Shaara, 2004)

Shaara has written several Civil War books (as did his father). I believe this was his first World War I book. I've been working my way through a number of WWI books. The war was basically unbelievable, and the aftermath - in terms of map-drawing, political structures, etc. - is with us still. Shaara computes the numbers at 5,000 young men dead per day through the entire war - how did anyone cope with this?

In some ways it felt like Shaara was imitating "All Quiet on the Western Front" (per immediately below). I liked the book and it was well worth the time even if longish (600+ pages). He tells the story through the eyes of a group of characters - ground infantry, Lafayette Escadrille, Manfred von Richtofen, Pershing, Patton, Ludendorff, etc. I think he tried to pick up too many vantage points, and I preferred the way David Robbins uses this technique in his WWII novels. But it was helpful that he focused on just the last year+ of the war. I'm glad I read this. A fine diversion when on the stairmaster.

All Quiet on the Western Front (Erick Maria Remarque, 1928)

I've been reading several WWI items recently and don't quite know what to say about this one. The author was in the German army, so it offers a different perspective than the Allied viewponit. It clearly is an anti-war novel, but that doesn't remove the ring of authenticity in the descriptions of the trench warfare, the bleakness of German civilian life as the blockade pinched supplies, etc. Though the characters look out for one another, the book otherwise is completely devoid of the usual strains of military romanticism and heroism.

The lead character along with several of his high school pals went right in the army and spent a bunch of time at the front. There are stories of martinet drill sergeants, efforts to treat the wounded, the challenge of going home on leave, the loss over the years of most of his original group. The battle descriptions - closeness of the front lines, trips back and forth across the no man's land, ability to distinguish each type of shell - are pretty much unbelievable. Near the end of the story the lead character dives into a huge shell hole for cover; a French soldier also ends up there and is knifed to death by the lead character, who is struck with the realization of killing someone with whom he would have had a great deal in common, and no reason at all to fight.

Depressing. Really good. I've heard this described as one of (if not) the greatest war novels of all time, and I can see why.

Lots more information here, which I recommend. They made this into a movie in 1930 that won Best Picture. Apparently they did a TV version in 1979 starring John-Boy from the Waltons (sounds dicey).

:07 Seconds or Less (Jack McCallum, 2006)

This book was a Christmas gift from Christopher (he being aware of my enjoyment of our local NBA team). The premise was that a SI writer would stick around the team for the entire season - not a particularly original idea, but it is unusual for a professional sports team to allow this sort of thing these days. The author has done a bunch of NBA writing over the years. And I liked it because the subject matter is highly interesting to me (last year's Phoenix Suns team was surprisingly successful playing an unorthodox style through a bunch of injuries).

McCallum finds guys like Eddie House (now exiled to New Jersey) pretty entertaining, and I did too. The author mostly hung around with the coaching staff so it was interesting to have that perspective. The head coach (Mike D'Antoni) is at the Tatum & Shea Starbucks like clockwork; last year he hired his brother (Dan) as an assistant. And Dan likes me, because he gave me a sweet autograph (via CPG intervention).

Part deux of the gift was two tickets to the Mavericks game on April 1. Should be v. good.

Over Here (David Kennedy, 1980)

Kennedy writes in depth about the domestic front in the World War I era. I liked this book a bunch. Some concepts it helped put in perspective:

-- The scale of the undertaking involved in managing WWI - building an army, developing transportation, getting industry in shape to support the war, mobilizing public opinion - was massive compared to anything that had preceded it (especially in the relative calm of the preceding 50 years). It took "big government" methods to get the job done, including an income tax and a draft. Pretty much no going back once we headed down this path.

--The country was packed with immigrants, including folks from Axis powers. Lots of effort made to get their minds right.


--The Civil War was actually pretty fresh in everyone's minds in terms of tactics and heritage. It had "only" ended 52 years prior to entering WW I (by comparison, WWII ended 62 years ago
and doesn't seem all that distant). In the meantime, the Army had pretty much shut down, just chasing Native Americans around and doing jobs in places like the Phillipines. Army structure had to be built.

--The politicians feel no different than what could be happening today. And industry figured plenty ofways to profit.

--So many Americans got out of their locale for the first time. Alvin York as played by Gary Cooper may have been a somewhat extreme case, but it seems there was lots of this.

The Last King of Scotland

Patricia and I went to this movie at Camelview in Scottsdale. We went mostly because the guy playing Idi Amin (Forest Whitaker) had received so much favorable attention for his role. He definitely did a very fine job, though much of the time the Amin character was cartoonish.

The story revolved around a fictional Scottish doctor who went to Africa to do good and have some fun, and ended up as Amin's personal physician and overall confidante. The movie placed the action around various events in Uganda during Amin's day, including the Entebbe airport situation.

Name of movie was derived from a supposed affinity of Amin for all things Scottish, stemming from his early military days in the British colonial military. More on Amin here.

Good but not great.

Chopin piano recital

Patricia and I went to an all-Chopin performance at Katzen Hall (ASU campus) on Sunday night. (This was after a nice early dinner at the Z Tejas in Tempe - the chicken quesadilla and chile verde were fine indeed.) The premise was the 120th birthday of Arthur Rubenstein, who recorded mucho piano works by his Polish compatriot. Short lecture followed by a film of Rubenstein (which could have been shortened a bunch or skipped altogether). The playing was most enjoyable; we liked the faculty performer plus Ilia Ulianitsky and Helen Jing.

An extremely pleasant evening. Small crowd, which is hard to figure. Info on Rubenstein is here.

The Painted Veil

Patricia and I went to this movie on Saturday (January 20). Actually didn't intend to go to this movie but the time was convenient. Amazingly enough, this makes two movies in a row that I really liked.

In this one, an English bacteriologist is back home in London for a short visit. An immature but aging woman - heck, she was 25 and unmarried - is feeling family pressure to get married. So they're both feeling the clock ticking and get married. He loves her, but not vice versa. They go back to Shanghai where she misbehaves. As punishment, he volunteers to serve in a town ravaged by a cholera epidemic, and forces her to go along. In that setting, they are able to see the finer sides of one other.

I liked the leads (Naomi Watts and Ed Norton) and thought they did a great job. I actually cared that they might find some happiness, which I guess is what a good movie is supposed to do.

I liked the setting - 1920s China - with Nationalist overtones, anti-Western sentiment, etc. Great photography. Based on a novel by Somerset Maugham but I don't know whether it's faithful to the novel. I intend to find out. I guess there have been a couple previous movie versions, including one from the 1930s starring Greta Garbo and Herbert Marshall.

Finished a nice evening with a light supper off the bar menu at The Roaring Fork. A good place. Sometime we need to actually have a dinner there.