Evening in the Palace of Reason (James Gaines, 2005)

This book was based on an interesting conceit - a visit by Bach to Frederick the Great during which Frederick posed a musical challenge - I didn't comprehend the intricacy, but it involved the use of canons and/or fugues. Frederick apparently was pretty sophisticated musically (though his employee - Carl Bach! - is thought to have come up with the challenge.) Anyway, Bach came up with what is now referred to as "The Musical Offering." I have listened to that CD quite often over the years but hadn't known about its background.

The book actually doesn't spend all that much time on this specific episode, which in the end didn't seem all that important to either party. But the episode did present an opportunity to compare and contrast the ages represented by Bach (old school Lutheran, belief in original sin etc.) and Frederick (Enlightenment, rationality, belief in perfectibility of man).

The author gave a brief biography of each protagonist; he concludes Bach was a bit of an individualist within the Lutheran tradition and in fact a precursor to the Romantics.

It was interesting to think of a person like Bach in those days -a village cantor or organist because there wasn't much else of a market for musicianship - recognized for talent, but in a role where followed orders and did music as a craft; his music depicted theological "truths." The notion of an independent artist expressing his or her own vision just didn't exist in that part of the world at that time. Yet Bach did some pretty independent composing, ergo the esteem in which the later romantics held him.

The portrayal of Frederick wasn't very flattering - the author spends a great deal of time explaining how his father was controlling and abusive, and how this appeared to affect Frederick's relationships ever after. He was intent on expanding Prussia, ended up with lots of wars. Apparently relatively progressive as a ruler; also somewhat forgotten until Hitler came along. Not sure why Hitler picked up on Frederick the Great, maybe he was as good a symbol as any that were available; I read that Hitler made the formal declaration of the Third Reich at Frederick's tomb. (I think the "first reich" was the Holy Roman Empire, and the "second reich" was the German empire as it existed after the unification by Bismark in 1870 through the end of WWI.)

The author gave a lot of details about canons and fugues, how they are constructed etc. I'm confident I still don't understand this, and could never pick out the elements - though I certainly like the sound of Bach's work of this nature, or at least the little to which I've been exposed.

Also, the author exults over Bach's B minor Mass and the Passion According to St. Matthew - I would agree that both are great listening. It's also interesting how Mendelssohn did a version of the B minor Mass that was catalytic in bringing Bach to public attention - after 100+ years of Bach having been largely forgotten.

Muhammed - A Biography of the Prophet (Karen Armstrong, 1992)

Reading this was a bit odd. I would like to be less ignorant about the roots of Islam and I think it was helpful to read this. But the author (who I later learned is quite a prominent writer and commenter on all things religious) seems to be anticipating a non-Muslim Western readership that is hostile to Islam. She ends up working too hard to define various occurrences as justifiable under or consistent with the Torah or the gospels or the New Testament; I'm not sure why she strains to make the effort, I would assume Islam doesn't require that kind of justification?

Her concluding comments leave no doubt she blames the West for any conflict that exists with radical Muslims, maybe she thinks this type of book will help enlighten the ignorant Westerners? But as far as I can tell, the West (and Christendom in general) has a long and well-publicized list of failings in relations among Christian denominations and non-Christian religions alike, but continually calling this out isn't very helpful and probably is irrelevant to discussing others?

She quite often takes the same approach with passages in the Koran; again, I'm not sure why this was necessary. She comes across as almost over-sensitive about perceptions of Islam as unfair to women, the harem, "religion of the sword," violence, relationships with Jews, etc. The effort to point out - or interpret where necessary - various Koran passages seemed unnecessarily strained. After all, it seems like all religions have authoritative writings full of admirable ideas about justice, social justice (widows, orphans), peace, family, etc., along with other passages that might sound awkward to the "modern" ear. The challenge is translating this into a workable civil society (including not having the various religions run into each other). I can see where this could be extra difficult where the political leadership's claims are based on divine authority rather than consent of the governed . . .

An interesting idea was the author's discussion of the differing emphases between Christianity and Islam, including a description of the primitive status of desert Arabia in comparison to more developed civilizations (Greece, Rome, Persia, Byzantium, etc.) or religious traditions. She notes that Muhammad was very preoccupied with not getting himself killed, establishing alliances, etc.; that there was no established civil order in this part of the world within which the religion could function. Christianity by comparison grew up in a (Roman) state with order - if directed aggressively at the Christians in the early going - in any event, the Christians didn't need to start with an army or establish their own state, they emphasized healing, preaching, submission; and then took over the Roman machinery when the time came. Also with the emphasis on "end of days" in the early going for Christians, why try to build anything? So there were very good reasons for Islam to have different, more practical, priorities. I think there are some interesting ideas here.

Muhammed's unfolding revelations were reminiscent of (what little I've read of) Joseph Smith; handy concepts came along as needed; admittedly can sound cynical but in the end if a charismatic leader creates something that works for folks on a large scale, it's impressive. And I certainly can't figure out how anyone generates inspirational ideas, by definition these are coming outside the normal process of analysis etc.

Piano (James Barron, 2006)

The author follows a concert grand (number K0862) through the 11-month building process in the Steinway factory in New York. This was quite interesting. But not as interesting as I had hoped. I was looking for more history of the piano, not so interested in the assembly and mechanical details.

He does a good job of conveying the individuality of the pianos; I also liked the stories of the various world-class pianists associated with Steinway.

As far as history, one does get a sense of the ascent of the piano - really a late 19th and early 20th century phenomenon. As discussed in the Liszt biography, the piano was developed into its modern form at that time and became something of a status symbol - communicated both prosperity and culture, so who wouldn't want one sitting in the front room? The drop-off in sales was massive once radio - and then the real killer, TV - became mainstream.

And I learned that I've heard K0862 (now renumbered CD-60 after assignment to Steinway's concert division, where the best grands go) on a recording by a family group - the "Five Browns" - they used the piano on their debut album, which I had received as a gift from one MB Stern.

Anyway, this read like a long newspaper article. Which basically is what it is . . .

Winesburg, Ohio (Sherwood Anderson, 1919)

This is a collection of inter-related short stories about a 19th century Ohio town told primarily through the eyes of a narrator who is a reporter for the local paper (George Willard). The book shows up on lists of great American novels, supposedly was considered quite ground-breaking for the manner in which it illuminated small-town life in a direct, simple, honest manner.

I just didn't like this book very much. I thought the characters were too flat (in general, I don't seem to enjoy short stories, much prefer longer vehicles where the author has a chance to develop characters, story lines, etc.). And the overall tone felt too negative - it's not a great discovery to recognize that people have faults, and in this short story setting there wasn't room to present a more balanced picture of the various characters.

Anyway, perhaps this was a great book and I missed the point, but so be it.

One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich (Alexander Solzhenitsyn, 1957-59)

Just a delightful read. I didn't realize the significance of this book as a ground-breaker in getting out information about the labor camps.

Solzhenitsyn's stuff, at least so far, has been excellent (previously read "The First Circle" and "August 1914").

Solzhenitsyn was in the Soviet military in World War II when he was arrested for writing a letter with an unflattering remark about Stalin. The story goes that he was needed in the heat of battle, but of course the political issues took precedence over military (like the commissars in Life and Fate).

So he had first hand knowledge of the camps.

This book is very short and is remarkable in its seeming unremarkableness. He literally describes one day in the life of a zek (Shukhov). He selects what would be considered a "good" day - presumably to show how horrible life was in the camps. The zeks are living and working in extreme cold with minimal nutrition. Shukov is on year eight of a 10-year sentence, but has seen enough to know that they might hang "another tenner" on him for whatever reason they like; or that if he survives his sentence, he has pretty much no shot of reconnecting with his old life (exile would be one possibility). We follow Shukov as he navigates the complex relationships among the guards, the personnel at the kitchen, fellow prisoners, etc. He makes out with a bit of extra food, manages to snag an extra puff off the butt of another prisoner's cigarette, barters for more cigarettes - just a great day. He had picked up a small piece of metal when out on work detail and was going to take it back to camp to fashion into a knife - highly risky situation, worrisome for the reader.

This book has virtually no moralizing; it is terribly simple. The 20th century in Russia (and many other places, I suppose) was pretty amazing.

A side note - Solzhenitsyn died a few months ago, and the mainstream media actually noted the event with some meaningful coverage. But this was completely dwarfed by the coverage of the death of a TV news anchor or news show host (his name was Tim Russert). I'm not sure exactly what Mr. Russert did, but he must have been a midget compared to Solzhenitsyn. Oh well, I guess trumping up the death of media types can only help convince the average consumer of the media's importance, to the benefit of future ratings . . .

Life and Fate (Vasily Grossman) (published in 1980s after KGB suppression in 1960)

I had looked forward to reading this for some time. The author's background alone made it almost certain that it would be interesting. Here is a guy who wrote articles for the Red Star (Russia's version of Stars and Stripes) from places like Stalingrad (excellent books discussed here and also here), and supposedly was a favorite among the front line soldiers.

While something of an insider within the Soviet system for some years, Grossman gradually recognized the paramount importance of freedom - a constant theme within Life and Fate. He put together an epic novel that covers the battle (from multiple perspectives, including House 6/1, the power station, etc.); the role of the commissars; the Russian home front from multiple perspectives; Russian labor camps; German prisoner of war camps; death camps for Jews; a tank squadron; and on and on. The participants (160 characters) are linked by family or other relationships for the most part.

Any number of these perspectives were highly interesting. The perspective that was perhaps most interesting was the '30s - even though the action in the book took place in the 1940s, all of the characters had been shaped by the awful occurrences in the Soviet Union during the 1930s (Stalin's famine in the early part of the decade, and the purges culminating in the later part of the decade). He did a great job with the Nazi death camp story; also folks like Krymov and Shtrum struggling in different ways to avoid knuckling under to the regime, at great personal cost. It really is hard to imagine.

Also fascinating is the environment in which he tried to get the book published - he thought there might be an opening after Stalin's death. But no such luck- way too much talk of freedom - all copies of the manuscript were confiscated. (Except a couple he had hidden away with trusted associates just in case; even then, publishing was delayed.) Similar to Doctor Zhivago in some ways.

I really liked the discussions among the "old Bolshevik" character and a Nazi officer comparing (and basically declaring to be equivalent) Nazi-style fascism and Soviet-style communism. (This no doubt didn't sit well with the Russian authorities.) Also a longish discussion attributed to a Tolstoyan in a Nazi prison camp regarding the nature of "good" - he articulated well how it is most genuine when spontaneous ("private, senseless, incidental kindness is in fact eternal"), and is dulled when institutionalized (it becomes just another business); I can't effectively summarize the discussion (or am too lazy to try), but it is worth thinking about.

Did it work? I would definitely say yes. Is it a wonderful read? Yes; one of the best I've been through lately.

Does it match "War and Peace" (to which some comparisons are made)? I don't think so, but also think an effort to compare is pointless. It is surprising that the book hasn't gotten more traction, but it is almost 900 pages long . . .

I would also recommend the discussion of the book that appears here.

A Duel of Giants: Bismarck, Napoleon III, and the Origins of the Franco-Prussian War (David Wetzel, 2003)

I was looking forward to reading this because it ties to a bunch of other stuff I've been reading lately. And the link from the Franco-Prussian dust-up of 1870 to WWI is so direct that I was interested in knowing more about how this got started.

But the book wasn't that interesting. The author clearly has done his homework. There were many elements in the rivalry; he focuses in incredible detail on a dispute over the succession to the Spanish throne (to France's chagrin, a Hohenzollern prince became a candidate).

All this was too much for some of the French politicians to stomach, following closely on the 1866 embarrassments in which German unification (and Prussian-led prevalence over Austria) advanced. (With what followed in fairly short order, it's always hard to believe Germany didn't exist as a state until this era.)

The cover photo on the book shows the famous photo of Bismarck and an aging Napoleon III (after the French had been demolished in short order). But those two characters weren't given much emphasis in the book.

Read at gym. Just average.

Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard (Joseph Conrad, 1904)

I read this about six months ago at the gym. I much like Conrad's stuff, including this book. One thing that's interesting is that he uses the English language so well when he didn't learn it until his 20s (native Pole).

This is set in an imaginary South American republic (Costaguena). Conrad does a great job of setting up a pretty large group of interconnected characters. And really goes into depth. The descriptions of the local politicians and governments would be spot-on today, at the risk of sounding condescending or rascist (except the basic weaknesses in this area aren't at all confined to Latin America or any other geography). The good-hearted Englishman who brings along the mine into production to the benefit of the entire area, and ends up being pretty much owned by the mine. The local families. The old Italian who worshipped Garibaldi and ran a local lodging place. The cynical journalist who gets over being disconnected - by falling in love with a local - and stays to fight the good fight.

All with weaknesses, but the book is pretty optimistic in the end.

The central figure (Nostromo) is an Italian who heads what I guess you'd call the longshoremen. He is incorruptible; a heroic figure in the town; entrusted with hiding a bunch of silver; this leads to some erosion of his incorruptibility, you could say.

A more detailed description can be found here - but I'd stay away from the description and just read the book.

Franz Liszt - Vol. 1 - The Virtuoso Years, 1811-1847 (Alan Walker, 1983)

For as much as I've been exposed to classical music, I just have never studied it or even read much about the leading composers, etc. So I'm trying to correct this situation. This author has done a three-part biography of Franz Liszt - who I certainly knew by name, and possibly would have associated with Hungary. But no more than that.

Anyway, the first volume of this biography was thoroughly interesting. At the beginning I was concerned that this was the kind of biography where the author is mostly interested in showing off how much research was done and why his work exceeds the efforts of previous biographers. There was some of that, but it ended up not being a problem.

Some things I took away:

1. Persons like Liszt leave no room for doubt that something like "genius," for want of a different term, absolutely exists in a small number of people. These folks simply have something the rest of us can never have. Liszt was able to learn music, perform in concerts at a ridiculously young age (~11), memorize, sight read, etc., in a way that simply was not normal. It's fascinating to think about.

2. Sort of like in the Goethe biography, Liszt came to the fore as a celebrity - there was a sufficient media machine to make him famous. Supposedly there was genuine Liszt-mania in many places he appeared during this period.

3. Carl Czerny was one of his earliest instructors. That's a name familiar to anyone who has done any piano practicing, his various exercises have endured.

4. Liszt's father took him around Europe on concert tours at an early age. I never had thought about the logistical difficulties - the concert industry didn't exist in anything approaching the format we know it. Not to mention difficult travels; this started shortly after the Napoleonic era.

5. The way this author tells it, large-scale piano recitals didn't exist prior to Liszt - one reason being that the piano technology wouldn't have permitted it. Piano performances were done in salon settings, probably building on from the harpsichord traditions. Liszt and his father ran across a piano manufacturer (Erard) in Paris who had an instrument that permitted much more difficult technical achievements at the keyboard, plus had the sound-generating capacity to fill large halls. Other manufacturers were making similar progress. I had no idea about this sequence.

6. And the description of a piano program as a "recital" - where did that come from? Of course, it was Liszt. Not clear exactly why he used it, but the term certainly caught on. His approach to programming also became a model.

7. It also was interesting to me that the early recitals so often ended with the performer doing "improvisations," often on themes submitted by the audience. Liszt supposedly was the master of this. Contrast to today's programs which - as much as I like them - are dominated by faithful renderings of whatever has become the accepted presentation of a work. I would believe the composers didn't intend for performances to be limited in this way.

8. Many of the commercial arrangements sound familiar. Erard shipped pianos wherever Liszt performed around Europe, gratis. And sold pianos everywhere - no possibility of better advertising than having Liszt demonstrate the product. Like today's "Steinway artists."

9. It was most interesting to read about Lizst's interactions with other 19th century luminaries, such as Balzac, Victor Hugo, George Sand, Chopin (Polish refugees were in Paris following yet another Russian sack of Warsaw), Robert & Clara Schumann, Hector Berlioz. Even a brief exposure to Beethoven in the early going.

10. There is a character in "Les Miserables" named Cosette - which is an unusual name. Turns out it is a diminutive for Cosima, Liszt's daughter - for whom Victor Hugo named the character.

11. These 19th century folks so often are involved in the 1848 revolutions - in Liszt's case, Hungarian nationalism was rampant as they sought a better deal with their Austrian overlords. Liszt lived mostly in Paris during these years, but was enthusiastically supportive of Hungary, did tours there, etc.

The Idiot (Fyodor Dostoevsky, 1868)

Prince Myshkin suffers from epilepsy; grew up under doctor's care in Switzerland and so was not familiar with Russian society. Whether due to his condition and background or whatever, he approaches others with complete trust and simplicity; he could achieve almost total empathic understanding with whoever was in front of him. He falls in love with a troubled beauty, Nastasya Filipovna - but it is perhaps moreso a love based on pity.

He also loves, in a more traditional sense, Aglaia Epanchin.

Rogozhin (who he meets in the first pages of the book) is almost his opposite; competes for Nastasya; and the way they finish the book together is pretty awful and effective.

I liked the book a lot. Read it in 35-minute chunks on the stairmaster, and I often didn't notice the time passing.

The Lebedev character was annoying; chronic liars are hard to place. Ippolit - dying of consumption - wrote a long-ish farewell address that was a good vehicle for discussing the theme of how we might live if we knew we only had a short time. Myshkin tells a story of a girl in Switzerland that he taught the students to treat with kindness; this was powerful.

I got a kick out of the scene where the imposter comes in to try to claim some of Myshkin's money. It was a perfectly pitched example of the way people act and speak when they have convinced themselves (if not wholeheartedly) that their "rights" have been violated.

I read that Dostoevsky suffered from epilepsy, and that Myshkin was intended as a gentle, Christ-like figure. Dostoevsky apparently went through a lot, including exile in 1849 (when the Tsar, like most monarchs, was a bit touchy following the 1848 revolutions across Europe).

The Odyssey (Homer, 8th century BC) (translated Robert Fagles)

It was a pleasure to go back through this long-ish poem, and I can see why the Fagles' recent translation was named one Time magazine's 10 best books (1996). It was a sequel to Homer's Iliad, and a predecessor to the Aeneid (Fagles' translation discussed here).

Fagles teams up with this guy named Bernard Knox, who provides long, scholarly-sounding introductions. It's a great combination.

The story - Odysseus returning home from Troy to deal with the suitors chasing Penelope (to the chagrin of Laertes and Telemachus) is well known. And it is amazing how many elements of the story are staples: Cyclops; the sirens and their famous song; Calypso; Scylla and Charybdis; the visit to the land of the dead; etc.

One of the reasons I wanted to read it was because the movie "O Brother Where Art Thou" was loosely based on this; also James Joyce's "Ulysses," which I need to read again since it didn't make much sense to me the first time.

Great stuff.

Cousin Bette (Honore de Balzac, 1846)

Balzac is one of those authors that I've never read despite constantly running into references. Supposedly both Proust and Henry James studied his works carefully.

I mostly read this novel on the flights to and from DC.

"Cousin Bette" is one of his later works, and is part of his magnus opus - "La Comédie humaine" - a group of 100 or so works iwth some recurring characters, etc.

He's clearly another great observer of human nature. Seemed to be writing also for a popular audience; snappy dialogue, quicker pace than some of the other things I've been looking at lately.

I read that Balzac's father wanted him to be a lawyer, but that he wasn't very good at handling structure of any kind. He did have some training and I believe practiced a few years. This definitely shows up in his writing. He brought to life the economic concerns of the characters in more detail and with more accuracy than others I've read. Apparently 19th century economic considerations were more similar to current than I would have thought.

One reason I like reading stuff from France in this era is the overlapping political epochs; he was born in the Napoleonic days, this was written during the July monarchy. Apparently Balzac did support a lot of the old structures.

Plot line: Cousin Bette is jealous of her relatives based on not liking how she was treated as a child, and joins up with a top flight courtesan to pursue revenges.

Hortense marries a Pole, and Balzac is funny with what would now be politically incorrect observations about the courage and senselessness of the Poles, how this contributed to their various partitions, etc. (show a Pole a precipice and he will throw himself over . . ."

James Taylor and his Band of Legends

A last-minute event - Patricia, Paul Jr., Nedda and I went to see James Taylor (who was touring with his modestly titled "Band of Legends") at the Dodge Theater in downtown Phoenix on Saturday night (August 2).

Per usual for touring folks, they were promoting a new album. They played a few items from that in the beginning of the concert. In general, the band was quite good. But the crowd (certainly including us) was there only to hear JT work from his catalog of familiar items primarily from the 1970s.

Some observations:

1. The guy's voice has survived remarkably well for being at age 60. Certainly in comparison to some of his contemporaries that really shouldn't be touring anymore (or at least confine themselves to out of the way casinos).

2. He did enough of the old stuff so that everyone left satisfied. There was a portion of the second set where he did "Walking Man," "Sweet Baby James," and "Fire and Rain" in close order. Nice.

3. I had not heard the story behind "Sweet Baby James" before, it was written for a nephew of his that was named "James" (duh) while he was off doing whatever in Europe. So he recounted coming back to the US and trying to write something. Some funny lines about the "the little varmint" and his effort to come up with songs, e.g. "All quiet in the bunkhouse" (a rejected title).

4. His stage presence is wonderful. Connected very well with the audience. Stuck around signing autographs, posing for photos, talking through the entire intermission. He's funny, has a great way of talking. He more or less works his way around stories, often getting there indirectly, permitting audience members to fill in their own ideas. Told some of the traditional jokes (and openly identified them as such), including how the electric guitar was an improvement over the "steam-powered guitar" and the "horse-drawn guitar" etc.

5. They did four encores. Nice.

6. He sang "Oh what a beautiful morning". Unexpected. We all thought of EMG.

7. Normally I don't much care for his blues stuff, but in a live venue it worked really well. They did a slower-tempo version of "Steamroller" plus some other stuff.

8. Had a funny bit about how he and Carole King worked up "You've Got a Friend" in a nightclub that - well, it was probably a bit of a stretch to call it a nightclub; if a building could be a ditch, that's what it was . . . that he didn't know that the song would end up being something he performed every night for the rest of his life . . . but this was better than folks who had hits like "The Monster Mash."

9. The band members really did add a lot. I often find the brass sections annoying in these groups, but they were restrained and very musical. The main drummer was a Phoenix guy that is pretty talented, though I never much care for the whole drummer routine. There was another drummer doing Latin stuff, he was interesting to listen to. Etc.

10. To take a stab at describing why his stuff works - I think the word is bittersweet. Somehow the combination of his unique voice, the lyrics, the chord movements underneath the held notes - it still sounds great after 35+ years, and I think his stuff is aging really well. He can communicate the poignancy of the fleeting happinesses . . . has figured out that the fleeting nature is what creates the intensity . . .

Livingstone (Tim Jeal, 1973)

Livingstone is another one of those folks whose story - if presented by a writer of fiction - would be considered too unrealistic to have much merit.

Not much point in recounting details of his life here, but I would recommend reading the basic information via this link.

I was particularly struck by the odds that the guy overcame to gain an education. His father worked in the mills, and Livingstone worked there as a child - 6a to 8p. The entire family (mom, dad, five children) lived in a 14 x 10 foot room with two bed recesses. And he taught himself enough Latin, botany, theology and math to get into medical school by the age of 23.

Livingstone eventually figured out that missionary work in China was a ticket out; he had an urge to explore early on. Ended up in South Africa (the first Opium War broke out and cut off China opportunities) under the thumb of a domineering older missionary. Eventually focused far more on exploring than on being a missionary, though his PR back home depended on emphasizing the missionary work. Later switched to anti-slavery rather than missionary as a cover for his explorations. Spent lots of time looking for the source of the Nile but ended up on the wrong track. It appears that he was willing to be less than forthright about risk of disease and local conflict, ending up bringing folks over to Africa that were not prepared for conditions and there were plenty of casualties.

The toughness that permitted him to escape the mills turned him into a pretty heartless, insensitive type; he functioned far better with native workers than with Europeans. Unbelievable ability to travel under impossible conditions, fight off malaria, etc.

I never get tired of reading materials on the 19th century explorers of Africa - the ultimate intersection of completely different cultures.

Later on of course was the famous meeting with Henry Stanley: "Dr. Livingstone, I presume?" Followed by his death in Africa, and the unbelievable return of his body to England. Project Gutenberg has an e-book of his last journals which is located here - this is very much worth perusing if you want a sense of what he was going through.

Incredible popularity in England and beyond, well explained in the article linked above.

The map shows his wanderings; some in search of the Nile, others for waterways that would bring commerce into the interior. Amazing that they were still unable to find the Nile source well into the second half of the 19th century.

Jeal writes well and has just published a new work on Stanley, which is on the list.

Voices of Silence - The Alternative Book of First World War Poetry (compiled by Vivian Noakes, 2006)

I picked this book up for two reasons - I'm always interested in World War I material, and in general I need to get a better handle on poetry (there's so much going on there, and I just don't get it).

[By the way, I just watched a 1927 silent film, "Wings", starring Clara Bow. This showed a couple Americans who became aviators in WWI and vied for a girl. The flight sequences were amazingly good (how did they do this over 80 years ago?), and the overall picture really worked. And who knew, it was the very first film to win an Oscar for "Best Picture." And also launched Gary Cooper's career. Anyway, this WWI movie has nothing to do with this book, but is summarized nicely here, and also here. I was interested because I have to believe a WWI film-maker in 1927 would have a different take than folks coming along much later. Loved the scenes of the WWI-era tanks, etc.]

This book probably was better suited to the first aim. I guess there is a canon (with some variation of content) of WWI poetry that is recognized as the most significant; this book was an effort to pick up musings of the common soldier.

It is interesting to get the perspective of these folks; if nothing else, it is fascinating that writing poetry was a common pursuit among a wide variety of soldiers in those days. I don't think one would find much poetry coming out of today's troops stationed in Iraq, for instance.

I only made it about 2/3 through. Well worth it as an alternative view of the proceedings. You get the sense that no one knew what to make of the brave(?) new world of modern warfare, it just didn't match up to anyone's expectations of the glory of battle.

Word Freak (World of Competitive Scrabble Players) (Stefan Fatsis, 2001)

The author occasionally wrote for the the Wall Street Journal, which is where I saw a review of this book. I was interested because we play Scrabble around here occasionally - mostly Patrick, Nicole and Patricia, me occasionally. But I tend to slow down the games.

Anyway, the book was interesting, but not really worth reading all the way through. So I was skimming chunks. The world of competitive Scrabble is sort of an adults version of the spelling bee world. It seems like most of the world class players are pretty weird, or maybe the author just played up that aspect.

It was a bit depressing - almost to the point of making you want to swear off the game - to read descriptions of strategy, rack configurations, and the words these folks can find. Whatever they're doing, it bears little resemblance to the game I play.

The Red and the Black (Stendhal, 1830)

This book was a good fit for some of the French stuff I've been reading in the last couple months (the Verdun book, Remembrance of Things Past (except Proust gave away an important plot element when he mentions this book), the Christmas truce book, etc.)

It filled in some of the gap between the Napoleonic era and the 1830 restoration. This was a time of big change in France to say the least; the Revolution and Napoleon had thrown apart most of the traditions and folks with widely varying agendas were moving to fill the gaps, find a new Napoleon, restore the monarchy and the traditional role of the church, emphasize the secular, revive the revolution, or whatever.

The book is referred to as the first psychological novel, at least in this description. Somebody at Newsweek listed it as one of the five most important novels, I guess because it was considered pretty far ahead of its time. I had never heard of the book or its author, but in poking around you do get the sense that it is widely known and admired.

Anyway, the book focuses on Julian Sorel - an uneducated but bookish boy from the provinces who, through a series of events, becomes a tutor (and falls in love with the youngish mother of his pupils), is educated in a seminary, takes a job with an aristocrat (and falls in love again, sort of).

Sorel's amazing memory (featuring passages in Latin) is a key to his access to various positions.

The book is lamenting the materialism that the author saw taking over France as the older institutions weakened; he also isn't impressed with provincialism, or Paris (and society matters) for that matter.

Very much worth reading. Even if some of the passages about his two romances get a bit repetitive here and there.

[I read this book at the gym about a month ago but didn't get around to posting, plus am still trying to catch up from the "placeholder" entries below.]

The Road to Verdun (Ian Ousby, 2002)

I found this book extremely interesting. But then again, I never get tired of reading World War I items. Thoughts:

1. It's not easy for me to keep halfway straight the changes in the French government from Napoleonic through 1848 through Sedan in 1870 and beyond. While I'm not interested in keeping the details straightened out, this book did give a useful overview. It helps the lead-in to WWI make more sense. Good description of nationalism as it was understood then; conservatives; monarchists (though no real hope of further restoration of the monarchy); Bonapartist thinking; socialist (even Communist) thinkers; Catholics; remnants of Jansenist thinking; etc. Lots of discussions of folks developing theories of the French nation, drawing distinctions from the Germans (with special dislike of the Prussians). Interesting that Alsace-Lorraine (including Verdun) was in Charlemagne's middle kingdom, which was the historical borderground between what became France and the smaller entities that Bismarck put together following 1870.

2. The Sedan disaster of 1870 was probably a bigger deal for the French than I was thinking, leading to the Alsace-Lorraine question and all sorts of consequences. Including fear of combined Germany.

3. Poor preparedness by the French; diversion of attention to the planned Somme offensive; rise of Petain; fall of Joffre; German plans to use Verdun to "bleed France white;" role of Crown Prince in directing German attack (but not quite enough resources to pull it off). Attack starts February 1916; German high-water mark in June 1916; slow pushback, with some of Germany's initial gains not retaken until three days before the armistice.

4. Discussions of the battle and the sacred or mystical aspect it took on. The "voie de sacree" - sacred road linking the Verdun salient to France and the efforts to keep it open. The death-like appearance of the soldiers who were being relieved; the nervousness of the incoming soldiers. The shocking casualties. What the soldiers put up with, partly resulting from the difficulty of properly disposing of the thousands and thousands of corpses.

5. Links to other things recently read: The author mentioned Goethe's visit to Verdun in an earlier war. In "Remembrance of Things Past," Proust speaks fairly often of people having neurasthenic symptoms; this author states that Proust's father was the author of a treatise on the topic (a precursor to analyses of combat fatigue etc. "The Red and the Black" - this picks up with a discussion of governments etc. following 1830. The book also has discussion of the Dreyfus case, which was a major topic in the salons in Proust's book.

Etc. I liked it.

We saw Wall-E

Hadn't been to the theater for awhile but we decided to go see a well-reviewed Pixar movie - Wall-E - back on June 29. It was a well-done, cutesy animated movie, and fun to go (Patricia, Chris, Paul Jr., Nedda, me). It was neat how they used music from "Hello Dolly", etc. The chase scenes were tiresome.

One of the more entertaining aspects was being at a Sunday afternoon showing with a theater full of little kids. We haven't been in that environment for years.

Passport to Europe

We (Patricia, Chris, Paul Jr., Mary Beth and me) toured this exhibit on Father's Day (June 15). An ex-governor of Puerto Rico (Luis Ferre, biography can be found here) put together a collection of European artworks now housed in the Museu de Arte de Ponce (info about the museum can be found here). I believe the works were available for touring due to renovations at the museum in Ponce.

We enjoyed it. Something of an unfocused mix across multiple countries and time periods. But always delightful to wander through. The Louvre picture included here was nice (also an interesting story; the woman in the center of the picture had died before the artist - pretty clearly interested in her - did the painting). Lots of Biblical themes, with great interest among the artists in folks like Delilah, Susannah, Lot and his daughters, etc. We also liked the Temptation of St. Jerome (lots of versions around, this was by somebody named Tenniers) (discussion of Flaubert's book here).

Then we looked over a photo exhibit that was ok. Wandered into some sort of twinkling light display in the modern art display, plus there was a flat rock on which were projected little figures walking. Not quite sure what to make of these things.

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Forgot to mention above: The Progress Paradox: How Life Gets Better While People Feel Worse (Gregg Easterbrook, 2004)

Silent Night: The Story of the World War I Christmas Truce (Stanley Weintraub, 2001)

I always liked this story, but didn't know very much about it. We rented a recent movie on the topic (mentioned here) and I thought it was very nice, but suspected it was way too dressed up for film-making purposes compared to what more likely was happening on the ground.

But after reading this book it turns out pretty much all the elements shown in the movie were based upon actual events. (The one exception was the female love interest that the film-maker threw into the story.) There were impromptu soccer games in no man's land. Burial of dead. Singing back and forth between the trenches. And yes, the Crown Prince brought a German opera star out (Kirchoff), and he did perform in the trenches. Etc.

Overall - the bottoms-up truce was not likely to stop the war as some overstate. But it clearly was a widespread phenomenon in some sectors of the line.

What a story. Flooded trenches finally froze right as Christmas arrived. The German soldiers were much more into the Christmas celebration than French or British (which the author says was consistent with how things were celebrated those days). German authorities arranged for thousands of small trees to be sent to the front. The Germans started lighting the trees and singing carols; some called across no mans land. Many Germans apparently knew at least some English, having worked in Britain before the war.

This led to meetings, gift exchanges, shared cigars and meals. The famous German pickle helmet was the most popular souvenir. There were impromptu soccer matches and group photos. Gift boxes had been received from the English royal family or the Kaiser, so there was plenty of material to barter.

This of course made the senior officers very unhappy. Censorship wasn't nearly as effective at this stage, so word quickly got out via letters home.

In some areas, each side would fire shots deliberately overhead - aiming too high - when the officers happened by. Then the fraternizing would resume. This dragged on for several days.

When you think about it - and without looking to make some kind of general antiwar statement - you had a pretty typical scenario where all these suckers were lined up trying to kill one another at the behest of the ruling classes. Some wars are pretty clearly necessary (obvious example = taking out a Hitler). In all wars, to get the suckers fired up to fight, the ruling class has to put out a bunch of propaganda. No doubt there were plenty of incidents, but the main propaganda against the Germans was the stories - often deliberately exaggerated - about abuses in occupied Belgium. The consistent reaction of the French and British participants in the "truce" was surprise that the Germans were actually normal human beings. This of course was considered a dangerous idea by the higher-ups - the suckers in the line might lose the proper zeal for killing.

An interesting observation were the differences within units of the German army - the Saxon units often expressed dislike for the ruling Prussians, as well as affinity for their Anglo-Saxon opponents.

The story just strikes me as very powerful. All the war rhetoric sounded pretty ridiculous to these folks as they stood there sharing cigars, looking at each other's family photos, and inviting each other to visit after the war. The ordinary guys on both sides of the line were farmers, tradesmen, etc. - the usual cannon fodder. Men who had a lot in common.

Anyway, after a few days they had to turn around and start killing each other again. Except for the units who were transfered away from the area due to doubts (stemming from their participation in the Christmas truce) about their reliability as killers.

Danwen Jian (Violin) Walter Cosand (Piano) (Katzen Hall, February 10, 2008)

It was a beautiful Sunday here in Phoenix, sunny and upper 70s. Patricia and I hiked in the Phoenix mountain preserve (40th street trailhead), then went to this faculty recital down at ASU.

We enjoyed it a bunch. There were four works on the program - a sonata by Schubert, two 20th century American works (Lukas Foss and Russell Bennett), and a sonata (No. 3 in D minor, Op. 108) by Brahms. The opening piece (Schubert) was the least interesting (or maybe our performers (or we audience members) were just getting warmed up). The 20th century pieces were delightful; I always have low expectations for these things and should know better by now. There were parts that were very pretty; some elements of swing or jazz; etc. And we always like Brahms it seems; his piece asked a lot of the pianist (not surprisingly).

I like watching the violinist play. It's interesting to see all the ways they can make sound come out of the violin.

Then to Roaring Fork where they feature a ridiculously cheap and good happy hour menu, plus the bartender comp'd a round. Get the green chile pork stew. What a deal.

Love, Life, Goethe (John Armstrong, 2006)

I liked this book on several levels. The author lays out a biography of (Johann Wolfgang von) Goethe; he also purports to discuss Goethe's viewpoints on various (though I wasn't sure sometimes if it was the author's viewpoints or Goethe's). And he even spent a couple pages trying to explain how to pronounce Goethe's name. Claims there is no "r" sound.

I picked this book for several reasons. First, I'm going through some biographies of artists and authors for a different take on history (per recent posts on biographies of Goya, Tolstoy, etc.) . Second, I continually run into English, French, and Russian historical materials . . . not nearly so much German (and I should be interested in that part of the world). Third, I continually run into Goethe references (or his buddy Schiller) in connection with classical music, including things we perform in Choral Union that were set to music by Beethoven or Schubert. Fourth, I occasionally see brief references to Goethe - not flattering - in connection with the Nazis (though not sure the relevance given he was dead 100 years before the party emerged).

Goethe was a contemporary of Goya. Spent time with Beethoven. Was around (though young) at the time of the American Revolution; closely followed events surrounding the French Revolution. He was around for most of the reaction to the French Revolution and Napoleon that in turn led to the revolutions of 1848 (16 years after he died).

This kind of book does help with thinking about German history. Unlike the national governments that had been in place for centuries in France and England (or the good old fashioned autocracy in Russia), this part of the world featured things like the "free city" of Frankfurt (where Goethe grew up), the tiny duchy of Weimar (where he was able to participate in civil administration in addition to providing celebrity and intellectual weight), the militarism and increasing importance of Prussia (where for example the duke of Weimar went to get involved in the military). Many small states during this period of run-up to Bismarck.

Goethe doesn't fit the stereotype of the impractical, unhappy, struggling artist. He comes across as secure, happy, practical, prosperous. He loved the classics and spent lots of time in Italy. He hit the jackpot as a commercial success in his early 20s with "The Sorrows of Young Werther." His most famous work is "The Damnation of Faust," though I understand it is pretty difficult reading. Anyway, "Werther" made him famous throughout Europe and assured his financial and celebrity status for the rest of his life - though it seems he did far, far more than rest on his laurels.

Goethe is thought of as one of the last generalists - he sought to make a contribution in multiple fields, including a treatise on color and optics where he (thoughtfully but unsuccessfully) challenged Newton As this author describes it, the various branches of science were deepening so rapidly that no one even tried to contribute in multiple areas (as had been common earlier, think Descartes).

Goethe met all kinds of interesting folks - partly because he was a heavyweight that had gained celebrity early in life, and then ended up living into his early 80s. Had an interesting encounter with Napoleon. Spent time with Beethoven, including a famous scene, though probably allegorical, where he bowed to royalty but Beethoven didn't remove his cap. Best buddies with Schiller. Etc. (This kind of book helps set different historical events and figures in context, knit them together; useful.)

I keep seeing references to the "Sturm and Drang" movement. Goethe and Schiller were associated with this, though both moved away. Goethe's hit novel (Werther) is considered an early spark for the movement (though this author thinks Goethe's message was that Werther was on the wrong track). Sturm and Drang is described here. I think of it as a stormy, passionate, notion of an individual soul or consciousness that runs deeper than intellect . . . you start to see the action/reaction movements in history, as these folks were reacting to the rationalism - and overbroad claims of what it could achieve - led by folks like Voltaire in the 18th century.

Goethe and Schiller moved away from this, but the trend was building with elements appearing in Romanticism, Neitzsche, Wagner . . . into the nationalism that became so important in 20th century (and was foolishly fed by folks like Woodrow Wilson); and yes, even to Hitler. (None of this of course traveled in a straight line.) Goethe would have run away from anything resembling Nazism; he emphasized looking for practical happiness, never slavish devotion to causes or ideologies.

In fact the basic outlook as described is very close to how I think on any number of topics . . . you could read this and get a pretty good window on my thought process in many areas.

Read at the gym.

Atonement (January 27, 2008)

Patricia and I went to see a movie in the theater for the first time in over six months. We've been enjoying our Netflix rentals; that system really works well for us.

We ended up liking this movie quite a bit. The music was a bonus.

Basic premise: older daughter of upper class British family experiences an incident - pretty much harmless - out near the fountain with the son of one of the kitchen staff (though the son was Cambridge educated and headed to medical school if I remember correctly); the incident was observed from afar by the younger daughter and misinterpreted. This led to pretty much catastrophic consequences. And a need for "atonement" on a couple levels.

The story started during the years leading up to World War II; the male lead ends up going to war; is separated from his unit and becomes part of the evacuation scene at Dunkirk. The director did a 5+ minute tracking shot there which worked well.

The younger sister is played by three different actresses at different stages in her life and becomes quite the interesting character. We liked the finish. The "atonement" concept plays through quite effectively.

Then we had a decent meal at the "Elephant Bar" near the Scottsdale 101 theater, so that was unexpectedly nice.

Doctor Zhivago (Boris Pasternak, 1956)

I recently read quite a bit of praise for this novel in the 50th anniversary of its publication, and had meant to read it ever since. (Publication came after the book was smuggled out of the Soviet Union in 1956; it was not printed there until 1988).

I guess the political problem was that the book elevated concern about individual development over sacrifice to the "state," whatever that meant from time to time. I read that Pasternak declined the Nobel prize for this book after the Soviet government requested that the committee not award it to him (which it did).

There also is a famous movie (and title song). I've not seen it and would like to, though from what I read the book is way better.

I read so much Russian stuff, but very little that explores what things were like in the years during and after the revolution, particularly away from the major cities. This story begins well before the revolution, then follows the major characters through events in Moscow, then to Zhivago's wife's patrimony in Siberia, and then back to Moscow.

One of the things that happens in the book is that the author explores a situation where someone is in love - seemingly genuinely - with two women, for different reasons. (Goethe works this theme a couple times also, as I'm learning.) I don't get this idea. Many of the scenes are in the army camp in Siberia (reds v whites); all the events that occurred in the early years after the fall of the tsar and ascension of the communists.

Zhivago was a doctor but also the author's voice for exploring the meaning of art and beauty. All this is most interesting (and probably way more interesting to me now than it would have been 10 years ago). Zhivago is principled and idealistic in a world that descended ever deeper into violence and opportunism. In addition to medical skill, he did drawings, poetry, stories.

Zhivago was not impressed by the revolutionaries; his attitude here also reminded me of Goethe's attitude toward the zealots that sprung up in the years surrounding the French revolution, and later in opposition to the reactionaries that took over the various German states once Bonaparte had been controlled. Zhivago views the folks that pushed the communist agenda - understood many to be drawn toward unsettled situations, seizers of opportunities, not serious; yet there was an element of legitimate desire for change and improvement. No doubt this attitude toward communist orthodoxy made Pasternak unpopular.

My only criticism, and it is very slight - lots of characters, some seem to just disappear, others pop in all sorts of coincidences. Authors of course do this or interesting stories couldn't develop, but this seemed a bit much at times.

Very much worth reading.

Read in the gym.