"To compensate a little for the treachery and weakness of my memory, so extreme that it has happened to me more than once to pick up again, as recent and unknown to me, books which I had read carefully a few years before . . . I have adopted the habit for some time now of adding at the end of each book . . . the time I finished reading it and the judgment I have derived of it as a whole, so that this may represent to me at least the sense and general idea I had conceived of the author in reading it." (Montaigne, Book II, Essay 10 (publ. 1580))

Saturday, June 11, 2011

We The Living (Ayn Rand, 1936)

An early novel by Rand - published when she was 30. She describes it as semi-autobiographical. She grew up in Russia in the early days of Communism - and had what now seems like a pretty good take on the system even though both she and the Communist state were quite young.

The theme is the individual being overwhelmed by the collective. Along the way, shows the hypocrisy of the too-often venal Party leaders (who live well while the population stands in lines, lacks food, is shipped to Siberia at a faster rate than under the czar, forced to attend classes - the whole "party line" thing).

The protagonist is Kira; she interacts primarily with Leo (who wasn't a compelling character, not sure why Kira fell for this guy) and Andrei (joined the Party in the early going and is disillusioned as things develop). Plenty of other characters are developed. Sasha and Iruna scene on the train is extremely effective (and sad).

Not great, but a good read. I continue to have the same outlook on Rand - politically incorrect, oversimplifies, but plenty of things definitely worth thinking about.

Thursday, June 02, 2011

Sugar: A Bittersweet Story (Elizabeth Abbott, 2008)

Glowing WSJ reviews from a couple years ago, so I decided to try this. Skeptical - I thought it would be another book about how awful slavery was, and how the local ecology was wrecked. The author covers these, but includes all sorts of other fascinating ideas. Well worth reading.

Some thoughts:

1. Cheap sugar in England was consumed disproportionately by lower classes. Cheap and tasty; the ultimate comfort food; sound familiar? A cheap "treat" for factory workers.

2. In sugar societies (and other commodities no doubt) - whites access slaves, resulting in mixed race offspring; this requires classifications (mulatto, sambo, quadroon, mustee, etc.) Differing rights. Whiter-skinned look down on darker-skinned (sounds like Muhammed Ali taunting Joe Frazier).

3. Breathtaking value created by sugar colonies - Pitt the Younger estimates that Barbados alone was more valuable to British capitalism than New England, New York and Pennsylvania combined. Fuels factories in England.

4. British authors incorporating West Indies sugar magnates into stories (Jane Austen).

5. Further to #3 above - the West Indies planters pioneered many elements of modern day lobbying. The mandated naval rum ration - didn't happen in a vacuum. Planters even hired a friendly "expert" to tout rum's health benefits. Monopolies, price supports, tariffs. Fighting off competition from sugar beets. All sounds very familiar.

6. Distortion of African development - the old question - impossible to know, but how might the continent have developed without the slave trade?

7. I had wondered why many of these small islands etc. had so many races - in many cases, as abolitionists succeeded or black slaves simply became difficult to obtain or control, planters brought in (via indentures or whatever - tantamount to slavery) - other races. Created tensions which survive to this day between races which might have a lot in common.

8. Haiti - so often in the news - self-liberated black republic. Hasn't worked well.

9. Abolitionists pioneer techniques like boycotting the offending product (sugar). This tactic became widespread.

10. Spanish-American War - hadn't realized the extent of American interests in controlling Cuban sugar.

11. 1904 World's Fair in St. Louis - how "fast foods" were pioneered - folks could grab items and eat while walking around the exhibits. Many are sugar-based. "Pop." Ice cream. Techniques to make chocolate more accessible. Resulting spike in sugar consumption.

The cover photo - check out the tattered outfits - cane workers did incredibly difficult work - abolition of slavery (including in US) didn't fix things quickly.

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

The Time it Never Rained (Elmer Kelton, 1973)

Very unusual read for me - a "western" novel.

The protagonist - a small-scale rancher named Charlie Flagg - tries to survive a multi-year west-Texas drought while refusing to participate in government relief programs. That's why it was recommended on one or two of the economics websites I follow.

The author was trying to tell a good story, not just make some points about government interventions in markets. And it was enjoyable - but a very easy read, probably too easy. I did like the way he addressed the relationship between the ranchers and workers who had crossed, or illegally were trying to cross, the border. Some of that resonated with current news.

He developed quite a number of characters, including his wife, the Mexican family that lived on the ranch and assisted with the work, his rodeo-crazed son (and rodeo-follower wife), other local ranchers, the government officials, etc.

Also addressed the hierarchy within the Hispanic groups - similar to Elizabeth Abbott's book about sugar (finished but not posted).

And it's a useful discussion about the manner in which government programs cause more problems than they solve; they become entrenched and almost impossible to shut down as coalitions coalesce around them; how politicians chase votes spending other people's money. That discussion certainly resonates approximately 40 years later.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Dimanche and other stories (Irene Nemirovsky)

I didn't care a great deal for this set of short stories - written around the time of the second World War but just now translated into English. Perhaps it was published because the author had achieved quite a bit of fame based on her recently published Suite Francaise - which I thought was quite good. The biography of the author also is quite compelling, all the way up to her death in Auschwitz during World War II.

"Flesh and Blood" had many elements that rang true - including the interactions of family members who got together regularly with their elderly (and ill) mother. I liked "Fraternite" - elderly Jewish man encounters person at train station with same name. "Le Spectateur" and "Monsieur Rose" were somewhat similar; the latter had elements of the fleeing-Paris scenes in Suite Francaise.

Quick read, worthwhile.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Cather: Stories, Poems and Other Writings (Library of America)

I still haven't figured out why I find such enjoyment in Willa Cather's work. But I do. It often creates a wistful feeling for me; there are themes about music; there are themes about the midwest in the days of the early settlers; something about that combination really works. And then there appear the odd story about World War I, or even the early days of French Canada, plus various other unexpected items.

This is a volume that probably is considered the odds and ends of Cather's works. I didn't intend to read through the entire volume (just under 1000 pages) but ended up getting through at least 3/4, mostly at the gym, and finding a number of very nice pieces. Mostly shorter stories; some reviews; some poetry (I mostly skipped the latter two categories).

I liked a set of stories titled "Youth and the Bright Medusa" - including "The Diamond Mine," "A Gold Slipper", "Paul's Case", "A Death in the Desert."

"Neighbour Rosicky" is a delightful, warm story - the description of his Bohemian wife and the way she interacted with her five children and others, certainly brought to mind my wife. Just check out the part where they are discussing the five breakfasts with the doctor. Nice.

Another strong character (in "The Best Years") also brought to mind my little wife - this woman was Scandinavian - perhaps it was the way the four children insisted on sleeping in one large room even as they grew up. The title refers to a quote: "Well, this I know: our best years are when we're working hardest and going right ahead when we can hardly see our way out."

Cather ran into a favorite niece (Caroline) of Gustave Flaubert - put together a short work titled "A Chance Meeting" - interesting in its own right, plus I liked the discussion of Flaubert, Balzac, Turgenev, Tolstoy, Stendhal, etc. Apparently Flaubert was very close to this Caroline, wrote her lots of letters (which are compiled), somewhat relied on her.

Monday, May 09, 2011

Of Human Bondage (W. Somerset Maugham, 1915)

I know pretty much nothing about the author; did read that this work is considered his best (and is #66 on a list of top 100 English language novels). Title comes from a quote in Spinoza's Ethics - relating to emotions overcoming reason.

Looking over the dust jacket, I wasn't particularly looking forward to this - seemed likely to be unpleasant (orphan handicapped with club foot is overly sensitive, short on money, directionless, embarks on "doomed love affair").

But the book really works - it pulled me along for 600+ pages, and I got to the point where it really mattered to me that things would go better for the protagonist (Philip).

Thinking back - the book involved lots of characters and locales. We meet Philip as a small child; he moves to the vicarage with his childless uncle and aunt (who really loves him); studies in a public school; studies in Germany; takes a job in accounting; studies art in Paris; studies medicine.

Meets Miss Wilkinson (a middle-aged friend of his aunt and uncle); various interesting pals in Germany, Paris (meets Fanny Price), London; meets Mildred Rogers and falls inexplicably hard for her (repeatedly humiliating himself); meets Norah; meets the Athelny family. Always struggling with funds. Gets offered a share in a practice in a seaside town in the south of England. Gets to know Sally. Philip is always looking for the answer, the pattern, that explains life. Maybe in Cronshaw's Persian rug? He grows, gets to know himself, gets along with all types of folks as the book progress.

I don't know quite why this works so well. Autobiographical elements, I understand. The behavior of the characters, their voices, etc. ring true. Simple, direct writing. Quite a few observations about life that at first blush seem pretty negative, but an even stronger underlying theme with hope; very sympathetic and understanding toward at least the common man.

I liked the book quite a bit.

Sunday, May 01, 2011

Anthem (Ayn Rand, 1938)

This is a quite-short work by Ayn Rand - I think it was something of a warm-up for Atlas Shrugged and the Fountainhead. Dystopian future where collectivism has ended up degrading society and individuality is entirely suppressed. A person named Equality 7-2521 breaks out.

Rand is taking lots of the usual criticisms these days in the mainstream media, occasioned by the recent release of a film version of Atlas Shrugged (apparently not a particularly great film version). I continue to think that she has a lot to say, and also continue to think that folks who pick away at elements of "positivism" probably quite correctly find lots of flaws . . . but overall her message has quite a bit of value, especially these days.

Reminded me of Love Among the Ruins, from this collection of Evelyn Waugh short stories.

Also some elements of A Canticle for Leibowitz, described here.

And the suppression of the individual certainly resonates with just-read "Everything Flows".

Saturday, April 30, 2011

Everything Flows (Vasily Grossman; last worked on in 1964)

Discussion of Grossman and his larger work (Life and Fate) can be found here.

Grossman wrote this work later, and never finished it (still working on it at time of his death). He's exploring a number of events and themes; perhaps not entirely pulled together; but always coming back to "freedom".

The main character (Ivan Grigoryevich) returns to Moscow after 30 years in the camps - this was after Stalin's death, after Khrushchev's denunciation, when quite a few camp survivors were freed. This led to some difficult meetings with folks that had managed to avoid the camps - typically via denunciations and other forms of collaboration. These folks feel intense guilt; but Grossman includes concepts showing lots of sympathy for folks in the impossible circumstances in which all tried to survive.

Chapters on the starve-out of the Ukrainian kulaks and on the conditions in the women's camps in Siberia are presented in a very matter-of-fact manner; but graphic and almost painful to read.

Grossman concludes with a discussion of Lenin, Stalin, the 19th century Russian writers who perceived Russia as having a "great soul" that would end up leading the world (in comparison to decadent Europe and money-chasing US) - this part is pretty interesting. That Stalin was basically a new Tsar with a better-organized secret police force; that Russia had a 1000 year history of slavery that facilitated 20th century totalitarianism.

So the book is pretty much very heavy duty but with an underlying affirmation - maintained in the face of all contrary evidence - about freedom as man's essential condition.

For folks that went through these events, those concepts must have levels of meaning about which we cannot have a clue.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years (Diarmaid MacCulloch, 2009)

Saw many glowing reviews and references to this book. They were accurate. Going by my usual barometer of dog-eared pages (I dog-ear a page if there's something of interest, don't make notes in books) - there are over 50 in this book. (Though it is 1000+ pages). And I even bought a copy.

The book is interesting and useful to me because it provides perspective on all the other history I read. The undercurrent of religion is incredibly pervasive . . . thus it's helpful to read again about various historical events from a "history of Christianity" perspective.

The history of the papacy alone is simply amazing. There was nothing inevitable about Roman primacy. Jesus certainly had little to do with Rome. Sounds like there were five highly respected churches in the early going (though even that evolution was quite a story). Rome maneuvered well, took advantage of opportunities, ended up going all the way to an "infallibility" declaration - talk about progress.

Starting with Constantine in 312 - Christianity intertwined with political power. The opposite of its founding principle.


And what an amazing amount of energy has been expended debating points of doctrine . . . many of which points have no real anchor anywhere in Scripture . . . though at least debating doctrine is better than killing people over it . . . how odd that a church founded heavily on stories of persons martyred for their beliefs turned around and killed people over their beliefs.

So many beliefs and practices that we grew up with and took for granted turn out to be fairly recent developments.

The author certainly tries to cover an incredible amount of terrain in just over 1000 pages, so his synopses, edits, etc. inevitably must have involved lots of judgment calls.

Nonetheless - this takes a lot of time to work through, but is well worth it.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Germania: In Wayward Pursuit of the Germans and their History (Simon Winder, 2010)

Winder notes that Germany is pretty much a dead zone for tourism (at least compared to France, Italy, England, etc.) yet finds that he is fascinated by the place. He ends up putting together an informal history that I found tremendously useful. Background from Fritz Stern, Frederick the Great and Bach, Goethe (and other books tagged with Germany on this blog) helped provide some perspective that made this book useful.

He admits up front that he's not a historian. For all I know many of his musings may be off target.

I've been baffled by the history of the area: late maturation to statehood; tiny independent regions for centuries; how did the area generate the super-high quality musicians, authors, scientists; how did the area generate the Nazis; etc.

My usual method is to dog-ear pages I find interesting; this book was left full of dog-ears.

Tacitus - almost a noble savage description - aimed more at uplifting Roman virtue than any attempt at accurately describing Germany. But this resonated right up to 1933.

Holy Roman Empire - fixation with medieval glory days. Perhaps as a way of legitimizing a disunited area looking at France and England with their long histories as a single nation. Building and restoring castles and monuments after other countries had moved on.

Differences between southern Catholic areas - identifying with Italy - and northern Protestant areas - identifying with Netherlands, England, Scandinavia. Amazing overlap with English monarchy.

So many available princes and princesses that they were married off throughout Europe, even sent to places like Greece and Mexico.

Prussia up in marshy northeast - Protestant - socially progressive it seems earlier than most - success in Napoleonic wars (which wiped out so many of the smaller states).

Winder points out that for all the talk of German militarism - other than a few successes in a seven year period in the 19th century (most notably the Franco-Prussian war, described here) - they never fought after that until WWI, and never really succeeded after that in any war. The short run of success probably created unrealistic expectations.

How the rush to develop a navy - in large part to service worthless, johnny-come-lately colonies - broke up a natural affinity with England and contributed to 20th century disaster.

Lots of entertaining stories about all of the small independent (or partially independent) areas. Somehow this seems to have been an incubator for the arts etc. Weird local museums, buildings, traditions.

WWI failure, the myth that the army hadn't been defeated in WWI, the Weimar republic problems, the rush to blame outsiders who must have undermined the army (Jews, Catholics, homosexuals, etc.), disaster with Nazis, disaster with Soviets. What a history.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

The Complete Short Stories of Evelyn Waugh (1998)

I've seen enough favorable references to Evelyn Waugh (he of "Brideshead Revisited" fame) that I thought I needed to check out something he's written. This volume included 39 short stories. 500+ pages, so it took awhile to work through (at the gym).

"Love Among the Ruins" was an enjoyable shot at state-ism - certainly resonates with USA circa 2011. There was a story about a dog who took his job perhaps too seriously, it was funny. I liked "Basil Seal Rides Again".

I don't know much about Waugh (including whatever it is he's known for as an author) . . . he certainly is wonderful with the language, insightful, another excellent observer of human nature. I'll read more.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Dr. Johnson's London (Liza Picard, 2000)

This book was pretty well-reviewed, but I didn't find it all that interesting. Lots of information and facts about London from the period 1740 to 1770; but presented in choppy bites to the point where it felt too much like reading an encyclopedia or the like. The three-decade focus period pretty much correlates with Dr. Johnson's active years. The author was trying to give some perspective on "ordinary" folks.

I noted that dog-fighting was popular. So some things don't change much.

I learned a little about the inception of Methodism (John Wesley) - who reached out to the lower classes and offered a "method" for behaving in a manner that might earn salvation.

A little more perspective on how "German" the British kings were. And I guess Britain didn't ever want a meaningful standing army - thus hiring soldiers from German provinces like Hesse when troops were needed in a hurry.

Very popular to hire folks to carry oneself in a "chair" - easy way to get around, plus permitted avoiding the filthy streets.

Apparently the "gin" craze was pretty serious.

Not that great.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

The Ninth - Beethoven and the World in 1824 (Harvey Sachs, 2010)

I find many book ideas in the review pages of The Wall Street Journal. A couple months ago, I was reading a WSJ edition from back in July (saved specifically for the review pages) and saw a reference to this book - sounded interesting and I reserved it at library.

In the meantime (as discussed in separate link), I auditioned for the chorus in something known as "Arizona MusicFest" - which I've learned is a pretty talent-laden grouping that is performing - Beethoven's 9th. So that upped my interest in the book.

Which I would recommend. The author has a varied background in music, and I think does a very nice job of discussing Beethoven, Europe in 1824, what the 9th might stand for, etc.

Concepts:

1. He emphasized the Romantic ideal of the artist as unique genius earning a place in posterity. This was partly the "great man" notion in reaction to Napoleon. Interesting that, by comparison, folks like Bach and Mozart were doing lots of commissioned works and, at least in Bach's case as I understood it, viewed more as a skilled craftsman than an artist.

2. Beethoven studied with, among others, Salieri and Haydn.

3. How difficult to be going deaf at a young age - huge interference with social relations, etc.

4. Discusses the theory that the Romantics in part were reacting against the repression instituted after the French Revolution and Napoleon spread dangerous ideas throughout Europe. With political avenues barred, expression came via the arts. Makes some sense to me.

5. Compares to Pushkin, Byron, Delacroix as active in 1824.

The author goes through a long explanation of the 9th, how the four movements work together, how the use of a chorus in the fourth movement was entirely groundbreaking, etc. Despair-anger-acceptance-joy. The "brotherhood" message was revolutionary for its time.

This gave me some ideas why I sometimes find Beethoven music less enjoyable than other . . . a big factor would be the preparedness the listener brings (or doesn't bring).

And now - constant use at Euro events.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

B Minor Mass (Johann Sebastian Bach, in segments between 1724 and 1748)

PJ and I had the good fortune to attend a performance of Bach's "Mass in B minor" on Saturday evening (1/15/11) - part of the Arizona Bach Festival. Performance was at Central United Methodist Church. We arrived reasonably on time by our standards, but the place was packed. Our luck (and PJ's find): they were putting up some additional chairs in the transepts, and we ended up in the front row. So had a great side view, could see the conductor throughout - somewhat like the view we have when performing with Choral Union.

After listening to it so often on CD, it was quite an experience to hear a fine live performance. Unoriginal observations: the CD doesn't pick up all the depth of the sound, and certainly doesn't pick up the echoes and reverberations in a church setting.

Quoted at the bottom of the post is a summary from NPR which I like (relating to a CD it's selling). I'm posting the album cover of the version we have on CD, which really is quite fine.

The Phoenix Chorale sounded wonderful - which was good news, since this is primarily a choral work. The festival orchestra also sounded very nice. We weren't completely sold on the soloists, but there were many nice moments.

For me: I still like the Kyrie section best. The first part is almost hypnotic; then a change of pace with two soloists doing the "Christe eleison"; then I much like the final Kyrie eleison as it leads into the Gloria. But the entire thing is a delight, even if two hours is a bit long to be sitting.

After: late dinner at the Vig with my pal.

NPR's take:

"April 7, 2009 - The Mass in B minor is as lofty in design, scope and expression as anything written by the hand of man. It's one of several instances in the music of Johann Sebastian Bach in which a piece is created as an ideal type, rather than crafted for a practical use. As such, it represents an attempt to both summarize the tradition of the mass in a single perfect specimen and leave a statement on the nature of sacred music as a bequest to the future.

Most of the work's component parts date from various times in Bach's long residence in Leipzig; they were assembled to form a complete mass only near the end of his life. The earliest section is the Sanctus, from 1724. The Kyrie and Gloria are taken from a 1733 mass that Bach dedicated to the electoral court of Saxony at Dresden. The last major addition was the Credo; the keystone to the whole archlike structure, and itself a wonderfully symmetrical arch, it was written in 1748-49. Bach never heard the work in its entirety, but it represents a collection of movements in diverse styles; the Mass in B minor transcends the inconsistency of its origins."

Tuesday, January 04, 2011

The Education of Henry Adams (Henry Adams, 1907)

Ranked by the Modern Library in 1998 as the No. 1 American nonfiction book.

I was interested for several additional reasons. This book had discussed Adams in the context of the change starting circa 1900 (and the power of the "dynamo"). Also, I've done almost no reading from this period other than fiction.

In the end, though, I wasn't all that moved, so obviously I was missing something. I read this is described as an "odd" book, and I agree.

Adams had an absolutely unique perch. Starting with his grandfather, John Quincy Adams, who walked him to school, etc. He worked with his father as a diplomat in Britain during the Civil War (when Britain was flirting with the Confederacy). Apparently knew all the US politicians during the period, up to and including a dozen or so presidents.

Adams spent tons of time in Europe; loved the cathedrals; focused on 13th century; Chartres and Mont St. Michel. In Europe in 1870. Tried to make sense of Darwin.

"Between the Civil War and World War I, an old world began to die. Some were aware of it. Others weren’t. Still others knew but labored mightily to pretend, deny, hold it off. Nevertheless, as history will, the change came, and after it blew past, all was different. What we call “the modern world”—a world of politics, technology and attitudes we’re still largely living in—had arrived. . . In The Education of Henry Adams, Adams, readiest of the unready, wrote about what it was like to live through the change, in the change, trying and failing to understand the change. Privately printed in 1907, it was not generally published until after his death in 1918; it won the 1919 Pulitzer Prize. . . .The climax of the book is the famous chapter titled “The Dynamo and the Virgin (1900),” in which Adams beholds the coming role of technological power in human life. He sees the steam turbines at the Paris Exposition of 1900 and writes that for him “... the dynamo became a symbol of infinity.” As he grew accustomed to the great gallery of machines, he began to feel the 40-foot dynamo as a moral force, much as the early Christians felt the Cross. ... “Before the end, one began to pray to it; inherited instinct taught the natural expression of man before silent and infinite force.” . . . He sees the dynamo as a symbol of force itself, of the gods of the future, as distinct from the Virgin, the spirit of the past, reflected in the urge to the arts and philosophy, an urge Adams feels may be swallowed up by the surge of the dynamo."