The Charterhouse of Parma (Stendahl, 1839)

I liked The Red and the Black so was looking forward to this one. Also because I had for the first time (and quite recently) paid some attention to Napoleon's early military success in Italy in this book - so the setting seemed quite familiar territory. And Zamoya talked about Stendahl and his participation in the retreat from Moscow in this book.

I read that Stendahl is categorized by some as an early "realist". OK.

Numerous strong characters; perhaps the lead is Fabrizio de Dongo - his father is collaborating with the Austrians, but Fabrizio runs off and appears, if ineffectively, at Waterloo. His aunt (Duchessa Sanseverina) is a great character, as is Count Mosca - who works for a despotic prince. Clelia Conti, daughter of the warden at the infamous Farnese Tower, falls for Fabrizio.

Fabrizio - despite lacking any apparent inclination for the job - becomes a leading cleric in Parma. Intrigues with court factions. Etc.

The Complete Essays of Montaigne (Book I) (translated by Donald Frame)

Jacque Barzun had raved about Montaigne; I liked Barzun's work a lot, and decided to take a tour through the essays. 800+ pages, written in late 16th century, looked like something I might scan through at best.

But about 50 pages in, I decided I needed to own this book. So went out and found a lightly-used hardcover version. Worked through Book I (of III, to use Super Bowl numbering) and about half of Book II before pausing. Not that I wasn't interested in going on - there just is too much to absorb.

Not sure how to describe this. Apparently the book was a staple for centuries, sat on bookshelves of most anyone with much education. How neat that folks like Pascal (to pick one from a very, very long list) worked through this, commented on it, praised it? Montaigne covers everyday and not-so-everyday topics in depth, or briefly. His style is conversational; loaded with quotes from classical sources; thoughtful; candid; seems like just the kind of person I would love to sit and talk with. When I went back and read the "introduction" section, it seems that my reaction is not unique (a better description would be "it's commonplace") - readers tend to see themselves in Montaigne's musings, even if different readers bring very different things to the book.

He was writing at a time when religious wars were quite violent in France.

I note a few sections here, but this book just needs to be read.

Of pedantry - includes a good discussion of the age-old distinction between book-learning and wisdom - this discussion never goes away.

I liked his discussion of the value of creating a written record, or diary; and his discussion of keeping written summaries of books he read so that he wouldn't entirely forget them. I'm going to use some of those quotes as a sort of frontispiece on two of my websites.

Much liked his discussion about being a father. Much liked his passages about worrying for the future, finances, etc.

Incredibly modern, incredibly pertinent. One of the few off-key notes is general dismissiveness toward the capabilities of women.

I generally don't write notes in books; I dog-ear pages that I find interesting. Which has led to ridiculous dog-earedness in the case of this volume.

Big Hair and Plastic Grass - A Funky Ride Through Baseball and America in the Swinging '70s (Dan Epstein, 2010)

My brother Charlie sent this one along, it was published by St. Martin's Press (where Kate worked).

The subject matter and era are hard to beat for someone like me - I have more coherent memories of 1970s baseball than any other decade (including the current one). Plus we were collecting baseball cards in those days at a pretty fast clip, at least at the beginning of the decade. So this was highly enjoyed.

The author has a chapter for each year in the decade during which he summarizes the divisional races, playoff and World Series outcomes, major events during the year.

The far more interesting part of the book - though unfortunately just four of the chapters - is where he takes off on various themes: those round multi-purpose stadiums; AstroTurf; colorful uniforms; haircuts; stadium promotions (featuring, of course, dime beer night at Cleveland Muni and disco demolition at Comiskey Park).

A couple items of note:

I read that the wire "baskets" on the Wrigley Field fences were installed in 1970 following a bunch of drunk and/or stoned folks storming the field following an April game (supposedly a bunch of antiwar protesters in town). Also a discussion of how seedy the Wrigley area was in those days, much changed now.

Folks were distraught that Dave Kingman struck out 140 times in 1972 (he hit higher totals later in his career). You can tell baseball has changed, our own Diamondbacks feature a third baseman who has the three highest single-season strikeout totals of all time (topping out at 223). And they just gave him a contract extension last off-season.

Crazy times. It's difficult to imagine any current player involved in a wife-swap, pitching a game while on LSD, etc.

Unknown Soldiers (reprised) (Chicago Symphony)

As noted here, I found the whole discussion of the British WWI memorial services to be quite compelling. I won't recount the earlier discussion except to note that it is difficult to try to imagine a more solemn, emotional setting than those raw years right after the war.

I ran across a Chicago Symphony version of Elgar's "Nimrod" Enigma (Adagio, Variation #9). (There is a whole story about how these came to be created, discussed here.) I have heard this work in various contexts and always thought it quite wonderful. Now I learn it is played every year at the Cenotaph (the one in London) on Remembrance Sunday - and I'll bet it has gained power over the decades.

Elgar was quite famous, late 19th century and early 20th century, also did "Pomp and Circumstance."

I like this version of Enigma #9 a great deal, perhaps because it is a touch slower than others I've heard. I try to imagine how this felt 90 years ago at the first memorial services at the Cenotaph.

(The entire piece is quite excellent, but I note the buildup with the double bass section that you can feel (and see!) starting at 2:28; then I like how the camera "moves back" at the climactic passages, around 3:30.)

Unknown Soldiers (Neil Hanson, 2005)

[Re-read for book club per my own selection, 2015.  Below is from original read in 2010.]

Another WWI book; these are increasingly compelling as I get a bit more familiar with the subject matter.

I found this particular book particularly powerful, particularly poignant. There's something about the (British) author's style. Systematic; detailed; matter-of-fact; he totally "gets it" that the subject matter is so intrinsically powerful that no hyperbole is required.

In many ways he is taking Remarque's approach in "All Quiet on the Western Front", but with a different story angle. With the same underlying, unspoken message that beyond all the rationalizations and pious memorials - and who can blame anyone for trying to make sense of this in the immediate aftermath - so much of this slaughter was nonsense.

He starts with the stories of three characters. Paul Hub's story is the most interesting - this poor German enlisted in the first days of the war; refused to marry his fiancee because he didn't want to leave a war widow behind; survived all the major hell-holes - amazing in itself (Verdun, the Somme, Ypres, Passchendaele); lost his only two brothers in combat in the first months of the war; relented after four years and was married while on a short leave; was killed when the Allies counterattacked against Germany's "Operation Michael" in spring/summer 1918; and all the while sent a steady stream of loving, personal, informative letters to his parents and fiance. His body was never found. She never remarried.

Second character was Alec Reader - British. Third was an American aviator - but he didn't have any letters to quote and was in the war only a few months, I think he was included here because his mother was involved in the founding of the Gold Star Mothers.

The author quotes extensively from Hub's letters in particular; also Reader's letters; works these into factual descriptions and excerpts from other letter-writers in a manner that really works.

Lots of matter-of-fact descriptions of trench life, shells.

The volume of shelling was just unbelievable. Supposedly 14 million shells at Verdun alone

Difficulties on the German home front - the British blockade made life extremely difficult. This is illuminated in the letters Hub received from home hoping he could track down basics like shoes, string, etc.

While the German army itself was weak with low supplies. When they swept over Allied trenches in Operation Michael - the good news was that they finally had chocolate, food, tobacco; the bad news was they realized their leaders had been constantly lying to them about how the Allies were starving (when the opposite was true). Germans were quickly pushed back.

The author then turned to the idea of remembering the war dead and covered this in detail - remembrances previously had not been done except for senior officer types. There was definitely a political calculus involved. No British bodies had been brought home - too dangerous to morale for stacks of coffins to show up. Literally millions of bodies unidentifiable.

The stories of the remembrances were far more compelling than expected - the Cenotaph in London; the tomb for the unknown warrior in Westminster. The planning - special seating for mothers who lost husband and all sons; mothers who lost all sons; and down the line. The unexpected outpouring of emotion; endless piles of wreaths (dwarfing the piles for the people's princess, it seems)

Hard to imagine the effect on those left behind in the countries with the biggest losses. America was at a definite distance.

And just look at the guys in the bottom photo . . .

Candide (reprised)

I was quite taken with Voltaire's Candide, especially the closing line about "we must cultivate our garden." Maybe it was a good idea to wait until age 54 to read it; that approach looks better and better over time.

In any event, I was vaguely aware that a musical of some kind had been written based on Candide. Today I was listening to a CD (or MP3 collection) from the San Francisco Symphony Choir and heard a song I've heard many times (particularly liking Dawn Upshaw's version) . . . finally made the connection . . . it' s "Make Our Garden Grow".

Leonard Bernstein wrote this. It's beautiful. Sounds like the operetta was a failure at the outset, but was revised and has gained a great deal of popularity.

Lyrics below, along with video version of the last performance Bernstein conducted (London symphony orchestra). I'm convinced Voltaire wouldn't have approved this song (except perhaps for the cow dying (per lyrics below, but not part of this musical presentation - instead we have Pangloss at the end)). But I like it.



CANDIDE
You've been a fool
And so have I,
But come and be my wife.
And let us try,
Before we die,
To make some sense of life.
We're neither pure, nor wise, nor good
We'll do the best we know.
We'll build our house and chop our wood
And make our garden grow...
And make our garden grow.

CUNEGONDE
I thought the world
Was sugar cake
For so our master said.
But, now I'll teach
My hands to bake
Our loaf of daily bread.

CANDIDE AND CUNEGONDE
We're neither pure, nor wise, nor good
We'll do the best we know.
We'll build our house and chop our wood
And make our garden grow...
And make our garden grow.

(ensemble enters in gardening gear and a cow walks on)

CANDIDE, CUNEGONDE, MAXIMILLIAN, PAQUETTE, OLD LADY, DR. PANGLOSS
Let dreamers dream
What worlds they please
Those Edens can't be found.
The sweetest flowers,
The fairest trees
Are grown in solid ground.

ENSEMBLE (a cappella)
We're neither pure, nor wise, nor good
We'll do the best we know.
We'll build our house and chop our wood
And make our garden grow.
And make our garden grow!

(The cow dies)

VOLTAIRE
Ah, me! The pox!

Napoleon - The Path to Power (Philip Dwyer, 2007)

I've never known much about Napoleon's early years - was vaguely aware that he wasn't French per se; knew of the expedition to Egypt etc. But mostly had just read that he showed up in Paris as an artillery expert and helped put down some sort of insurrection in the years following the start of the revolution, after which his career took off.

So this book was very interesting - looked in-depth at Napoleon right up to the time of the 1799 coup. Starting with his days in Corsica - he was very focused on events there and learned a ton about politics. (Corsica was being passed between Genoa and France, and considering (or pipe-dreaming about) independence.) Idolized "Paoli," the local leader.

Earlier, he had been lined up for schooling in France thanks to his father's intervention. So he had something of a dual background - initially strongly Corsican, but with enough French background to handle the transition.

The French Revolution, and Napoleon himself, were responsible for so many modern innovations (many quite terrible). First mass conscription. Adroit manipulation of newspapers to sell false imagery. Pillaging of art works from Italy in a manner that would have impressed the Nazis. Creation of puppet states to serve as allies or buffers, or both.

Napoleon definitely had something remarkable in his military leadership - after gaining popularity and credibility with the politicians, he had great success in charge of the Army of Italy.

Infatuated with Josephine (who apparently had plenty of charms that outweighed her bad teeth). Pulled a David and Bethsheba scene when taking up with a soldier's wife in Egypt - sent the poor fellow on a mission where he was almost certain to be captured. British spies knew what was up so, to the surprise and consternation of all the principals, they released him back to Egypt.

Awful scenes in Egypt as Napoleon demonstrated an insensitivity to loss of human life that would be repeated. It was a bad campaign, but skillful propaganda left him pretty much untouched if not aggrandized - notwithstanding his abandoning his army there.

This should be good background reading for The Charterhouse of Parma. A good follow-on to this book.

Inception

We had heard lots of good things about the movie "Inception" from various sources, so Patricia and I went to see it this afternoon (with Paul Jr. and Pat Herrera). Leonardo DiCaprio is the lead - he is expert at utilizing technology to invade dreams - seems the technology is used regularly as a corporate espionage tool. But now he is hired by a corporation to implant an idea in the mind of the principal of a competing firm, which we're told is much more difficult to accomplish.

Longish but engaging; I was a little concerned during the first hour but ended up liking the movie. Definitely in the summer blockbuster field with lots of action, chases, shooting, etc. But much more thoughtful. Four layers of dreams are depicted simultaneously toward the climax. I still can't figure out a number of things, especially the way the opening scenes fit with the rest of the movie.

He had a complicated relationship, let's say, with his dead wife. (I read that there is Edith Piaf music on the soundtrack.)

The special effects were really well done, especially the scenes where they were floating in the hallway (a couple dream layers down). And this is the kind of movie - depicting dream worlds - where the effects actually add something to the storyline.

Taylor King concert (round 2) (Anaheim, CA, July 20, 2010)

As part of our recent trip to Laguna Beach, PJ and I attended what was the final performance for the Troubadour Reunion Tour (Carole King and James Taylor). We had previously attended in Glendale, described here.

We liked it a lot, for all the same reasons noted in the prior post. I had been reading in the newspaper how this tour had just blown away all expectations for ticket sales in what has otherwise been a very down year for the concert tour business. Somehow they are very much striking the right chord.

It was a different crowd than in Arizona - more immediately responsive, but not better. Hard to believe at this age they were on the road this long (he's 62, she's 68).

I had sought tickets late, but we were pretty lucky with this - first row in upper level. That actually works quite nicely. With the revolving stage in the middle of the arena and the various video boards, it was a good location.

Here's a short clip taken via cellphone video (from someone who lugged around massive video cameras for years: who can believe a cellphone can take video even of this quality?) It's a portion of "Sweet Baby James," which is performed following his little story about writing it for his nephew . . . live, the violin line sounded good (example here at 0:30), as did Carole King singing a line against the melody (starting around 1:00).



Lots of very nice moments, including the tour finale (same song they ended with in Glendale) (Close Your Eyes) . . .



Then the GPS directed us out of Anaheim and back to Laguna Beach, a kind service without which we might have been circling quite awhile.

The Island of the Day Before (Umberto Eco, 1994)

I liked The Name of the Rose a great deal. I liked Foucault's Pendulum quite a bit. So I read this on the strength of Umberto Eco as author. Didn't work out as well.

I never really did figure out what Eco was up to in this one. It's worth reading because there is a ton of interesting things floating around - ideas about the efforts to figure out longitude; politics and battles at the time of the 30 Years War; Richelieu and Mazarin; etc.; long discussions about knowledge, religious belief compared to scientific method, role of imagination; etc.

So I think the best aspect - and perhaps what Eco was up to - was giving the reader a window into the mindset and conversations of the first half of the 17th century.

As far as the plot - the protagonist (Roberto) is shipwrecked, and ends up being washed up onto an abandoned ship moored just far enough off a south seas island such that Roberto - a non-swimmer - is pretty much trapped. The abandoned ship relates to the intrigues surrounding the efforts to be the first to reliably calculate longitudes, and Roberto explores. While imagining things with a woman back in Paris whom he hopes to love.

The Burning Land (Bernard Cornwell, 2009)

Another historical novel by Cornwell (#4 for me) - apparently he has recently written several novels set in the 9th century in what will become England. Reviewers indicate that this story is based on a number of somewhat well documented historical episodes.

Read a favorable review in WSJ so tried this. More of a page-turner, but Cornwell's research and story-telling are very strong. He can make you imagine what this might have felt like. Details about battles, politics, etc. Very enjoyable to read (on the stairmaster).

King Alfred dreams of uniting Angle-land as a Christian kingdom; but relies on Uhtred (pagan protagonist) for military success.

They are dealing with several Danish invasions. Alfred's son (to be King Edward) is being groomed. There is an angry Danish woman named Skade. Uhtred is loyal to Alfred's daughter.

Candide - the Optimist (or All for the Best) (Voltaire, 1759)

I had never gotten around to reading this short work. It is one of Voltaire's most famous works; one of the more famous works in Western literature. It is a satire; among other things, he was reacting to the optimism of Leibniz, who considered that God had placed us in the best of all possible worlds.

Voltaire notes all of the suffering and bad behavior that the world always features; current events included the Seven Years War and the Lisbon earthquake (which happened on Sunday, resulting in the roasting of many churchgoers in the fires that followed the quake (including those not killed in the collapse of the churches)).

Candide is candid and pretty much retains his optimism despite going through some amazingly tough times, starting with being kicked out of the house and being pressed into the Bulgarian army. (Optimism had been instilled in him by his tutor, Pangloss, a Leibniz adherent (at least for awhile)).

All sorts of messaging; all sorts of controversy as he fairly directly criticized governments, royal houses, organized religion, etc.

Lots of philosophical debate among Candide, Pangloss, Martin. Voltaire is pointing out this leads to a dead end. Yet the ending of the story is very positive - great line from Candide as he snuffs another philosophical debate: "'Tis well said," replied Candide, "but we must cultivate our gardens."

The "Modern Library" version was neat - included the setting and illustrations from a 1920s edition.

The Temptation of St. Antony (Gustave Flaubert, 1874)

Flaubert is much better known for Madame Bovary (on our Great Books reading lists in the late 1970s) and A Sentimental Education (discussed here). He took a stab at doing a - well, I don't know how to describe this, a fantasy? - early in his career. This was based on the famous temptations endured by St. Antony (one of those third-century saints who lived as a hermit in the desert, or was up on a pole for awhile, or perhaps both). But his friends told him the book was awful.

He came back to the idea in the 1870s - after tinkering with it from time to time, and after finding great success with the two books noted.

I didn't quite know what to make of it. St. Antony is weak with hunger, somewhat regretful of the path he took; endures a long night in which every type of temptation shows up. Flaubert must have been incredibly knowledgeable about ancient gods, old heresies, myths, etc.

Artists liked this story also, I include a painting attributed to Bosch.

Holy Madness - Romantics, Patriots and Revolutionaries, 1776-1876 (Adam Zamoyski, 1999)

I was reading this at the gym while simultaneously working through the Barzun book. They overlapped in interesting ways. I had never heard of the author until reading his biography of Napoleon earlier this year - his stuff makes for good reading.

And this book gives some highly useful insights into all the blather and phoniness surrounding what our politicians would pass off as "patriotism" or "nationalism." Like identity politics, celebrating and emphasizing differences just doesn't make much sense.

In this book he examines a century of high-minded efforts (or at least involving high-flown rhetoric) to throw off kings, emperors, church leaders, whoever - often in the name of some would-be national group or the other.

He discusses the American Revolution at the outset - essentially a transition from one leadership structure to another without much disturbance of the society. But as we saw in the last presidential election, when words like "freedom" and "change" and the like start getting thrown around by skilled orators, folks around the world can fill in the blanks however they like - and find inspiration and justification to proceed.

Lots of details about revolutionaries in France, Italy, Poland; Russia; Belgium; etc. The French experience was the key - they marketed the ideals of the revolution all across Europe. Their huge armies picked up conscripts from all over, and traveled all over. This altered the outlook of some many folks so dramatically that all sorts of change happened.

The author discusses how a small group of revolutionaries would show up in disturbance after revolt after war all around Europe and South America. Only to typically find that the group of people ("nation") or whatever that they intended to lead to "freedom" wasn't even interested in the disturbance.

Metternich's "system" after Waterloo to preserve order. Russian "Decembrists" in 1825. Outbreaks in 1830 in various locales. Another round of outbreaks in 1848 - starting with high hopes, ending with minimal change. France increasingly conservative under Louis Philippe and Napoleon III. The "commune" following the defeat by Prussia.

Interesting to observe the scramble of the "nations" to discover - or more typically invent - their national heritage and customs. Then members of sub-groups intended to comprise so-called "nations" found out they had significant differences and aims - oops.

Scotland adopts the "kilt" in 18th century - named and sold by English. Germany reaching back to Tacitus, seeking martial honor in the deep forest tradition (rather than per the decadent French). Almost every group designated someone as its "Washington" or "Lafayette."

Famous artists showing up here and there - Wagner, Liszt, Stendhal, Hugo. Beethoven ("Eroica" for Napoleon).

How all things Greek became wildly popular around 1830 or so - Europeans rush to liberate Greeks from the Turks, only to find that the classical imagery (Achilles et al) didn't quite match the locals. Lord Byron. Now everyone needed to learn Greek in school.

Louis Kossuth in Hungary (very popular in US at time Kossuth County, Iowa was named).

Behaviors and symbols borrowed liberally from the religions it was fashionable to despise.

At the end of the book, the author notes the disillusionment of these high-minded revolutionaries, and states that this led to the cold-blooded approach of Lenin and his ilk - if the people didn't want regime change, they would be taught to want it (or else).

From Dawn to Decadence: 1500 to the Present : 500 Years of Western Cultural Life (Jacques Barzun, 2000)

How useful did I find this book? I actually went out and bought a hardcover copy for myself. (My usual approach is to borrow books from the library; I have a list of those I want to own, but too seldom find the motivation to start purchasing. Not the case here.)

The value proposition for Barzun's work is simple in my case. I read as much as I can; I also try to learn about as much classical music as possible, and (to a much lesser extent) art (typically meaning paintings). Opera and "plays" remain mostly mysteries to me. On all fronts, I don't have a very organized way of identifying items I'll read or view. On top of that, I have trouble remembering what I've read or seen.

Enter Barzun.

He is a fascinating character in his own right. He was class valedictorian at Columbia in 1927 (born in France, the book includes his recollection of Paris being shelled by "Big Bertha" German gunnery). He finished this book when he was well over 90 years old. By that time, he had spent what - seven decades? - learning, teaching, writing at a very high level. It's hard to imagine the insights that would accumulate in that setting over that extended period of time - and that he would have the energy so late in life to put together a volume like this.


The book is a delight. Incredibly economical with the language - how else could one even try to take on a 500-year period across multiple disciplines in one book of manageable size? I slowed down and read pretty much every word, often working backward in the book. (This approach (along with a too-busy work schedule for the first half of 2010) is reflected in the slowed pace of my reading recently.)

Just an example - he spent about six pages working around World War I - and left me with an entirely different sense of how the world was affected (i.e. the changed outlook for those who survived). Most of my WWI reading has focused on particular battles, the experience of the soldiers, how the war started, etc. This was different.

He uses the term "decadence" to describe the current state of affairs - but not in as gloomy a sense as the word might suggest. Very cogent observations about the effect of the welfare state (which he (like many others) traces to 1870s Prussia), the media, etc.

I will refer to this regularly. I need to read more of his stuff.