quote-source

Partly because I use his quotes atop both of my principal blogs, I found this article (riffing on a Daily Beast writer (an odd reference for me)) to be interesting:  Montaigne: The Father of Us All.   ("Sullivan is right to hail Montaigne as the literary father of the blog and the world of blogging continues to move along the lines Montaigne first laid out.")

OK, what I'm doing here isn't along those lines at all, but still.  Montaigne = unusually interesting.

Night Train to Lisbon (Pascal Mercier, 2004)

Unusual read for me - a (relatively) current novel.  I liked this quite a bit.  Thoughtful, deliberate, meditative, unusual.

A teacher (Gregorius) of classics in a Bern (Switzerland) high school has an enigmatic (and brief) encounter with a Portuguese woman while heading to his school.  He's ready for change; runs into a book by a Portuguese author (Amadeu Prado) by happenstance in a local bookstore immediately after this encounter; the book speaks to him (let's say) and he ends up on the night train to Lisbon.  And just like that:  Gregorious is retired from a long-ish career at his high school and off to some developments in Portugal.

The book discovered by Gregorius included a collection of essays by Amadeu (a Portuguese doctor who wrote for his own understanding, not an author).  Amadeu had ended up in some very difficult situations under the Salazar dictatorship (of which this book gave me a good overview) some thirty years previous, and died of an aneurysm shortly after those events.  Gregorius searches for information to understand Amadeu and his writings (and, simultaneously, himself).

Characters were very well developed:

Adriana - Amadeu's older sister
Melodie - Amadeu's younger sister
Father Bartolomeu - Amadeu's high school teacher
Joao Eca - torture victim
Jorge O'Kelly - Amadeu's best friend growing up
Mariana Eca - eye doctor
Silveira - Portuguese businessman with whom Gregorius strikes up a friendship
Maria Joao - Amadeu's confidant (going back to high school)
Estafania Espinhosa - joined resistance, came between Amadeu and Jorge.

We learn about Amadeu's father (twisted by disease, a judge), mother, wife (Fatima); Gregorious's family ; etc.

They traveled to Finisterre - what a great place-name.

I don't know exactly what this was about.  The characters explore words, books, philosophers, knowledge, self-knowledge, limits of knowledge, religion, relationships, love, mortality, decisions when faced with power (torture), on and on.  They play chess and smoke.  They observe that heavy readers are different people.  Somehow in all this I actually cared about the characters (though sometimes the passages from Amadeu's book seemed long).  This is worth reading, and I think worth revisiting.

The Radetzky March (Joseph Roth, 1932)

I've had this on my reading list for quite awhile, it was well worth the wait.

Traces three generations of the Trotta family - Austrian nobility - as the Habsburg dynasty approaches its end point with the onset of World War I.  First generation was a soldier of peasant stock who was elevated to the nobility after saving Franz Josef's life on the battlefield at Solferino (which was a much bigger battle than I remembered).  Second generation Trotta became a career diplomat after his father dissuaded him from joining the military.  Third generation Trotta re-entered the military - but seemed better suited to functioning in the style of his peasant ancestors.  Franz Josef of course lived to a very old age, and he reappears throughout the novel in various contacts with the Trotta family members.

I know nothing of the author except read he is ranked with Thomas Mann among central European authors of the period.

This book reminded me very much of three-generation stories that I have read in the last couple months; the first two having been focused on South America and Italy, respectively.    It is an odd coincidence that those three books all ended up in the queue at the same time.

As with the other books - this is a great construct to communicate the loss (or change) of a particular way of life.  Austria in particular was poised for drastic changes. 

Some losses in third generation Trotta's regiment (resulting from a duel, actually) were broadly felt by the survivors - Roth has an effective way of pointing out that losses like this just felt different before the mechanized killing of World War I, which took away the personal element; humans were just another (replaceable) cog in the machine.

As best I can tell the Habsburgs did a decent job trying to hold together all the national minorities in their dominions.  Sounds though they were reactionary and then some, but it's hard to see that things were better off for their demise.  The second Trotta, from his administrative post, was the author's vehicle for communicating the way in which grievances and politics surrounding these national minorities largely overtook the old empire.  Leading to Wilson, self-determination, nationalism, persistent slaughter in this difficult corner of the world.

Third generation Trotta ends up in a border town - near Russia - very interesting descriptions of early 20th-century life there.  Franz Ferdinand's assassination is announced during a party there.

The Life of Samuel Johnson (James Boswell, 1791)

It doesn't require much reading to run into references to Dr. Johnson and his biographer, Boswell.  In fact, Boswell became synonymous with biography in a way - you see references that so-and-so needed a Boswell.  This, even though how many people these days know anything about Dr. Johnson himself?  I certainly didn't.

There's a lot going on in this work, and I have trouble sorting it out.  It also took a long time to work through.  1006 dense pages; no breaks even for chapter headings; I think it was worth the time.

Johnson basically was of humble birth and had no money or standing.  I think you could describe him as a big lug.  Awkward physically.  He read a ton as a youth (and thereafter) and had a phenomenal memory; also must have had a super-sharp intellect in that he could carry around everything he knew, sort it effectively, and pull it up on command.  This was combined with the skill that distinguished him above all else:  the ability to communicate in a pithy, forceful, memorable style (whether in writing or in conversation).  He came to London as a poor man and wrote for money - short works.  Eventually was approved to write a famous Dictionary of the English language - and this was where he made his mark.  This led to fame, and a government pension of 300 pounds per year - not much money at all, but enough for Johnson.

Boswell was a Scottish gentleman who met Johnson when Johnson already was in his early 50s; at least 20 years younger than Johnson; seemed to hero-worship the now-famous Johnson; spent a great deal of time in London with Johnson; occasionally traveled with him; took up the idea of being his biographer and started to record conversational nuggets on an amazingly regular basis. 

Johnson's fame and his style made him a target.  He could be brusque and rude; he didn't know how to participate in a conversation involving more than one other person without turning it into some kind of competition.  He would pretty much take the opposite side of any argument just for the sake of the competition. 

It's fascinating to hear the discussions - by this leading mid and late-18th century figure - of the leading lights of those days.  The folks in London were discussing and/or interacting with Kant, Rousseau, Hume (the infidel), Frederick the Great; Edmund Burke, Adam Smith, King George III; he had a tiff with Voltaire; the lists goes on and on.  Johnson was a stickler for tradition - the monarchy, Tory party, and high-church Anglicanism; he thought the American rebels were in the wrong.  They discussed so many of the same issues that remain in the news to this day.  It's a great window into the 18th-century discussions.

I don't know where else such a window exists.  Boswell followed Johnson around in real time for decades - most biographers have to assemble information after the fact.  (Though they didn't spend all that much time together - gaps are filled in, somewhat, via copies of correspondence or other sources.)

And would Johnson have remained famous with Boswell?  Probably not.  His short works, his Dictionary, above all his sayings - these are very, very fine things.  But not enough to place him among the literary greats (as I understand it).

Books with Johnson sayings still sell well to this day - one can see why so many tried to imitate his style - incredibly effective language.

One quote that has stood up well to this day:  "Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel."

One Hundred Years of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez, 1967)

This book shows up on "top 100" lists; I also see it described as one of, if not the greatest, Latin American novels.  I would say I liked it quite a bit, but - perhaps lacking perspective? - I didn't find it nearly as compelling as all that.

The story covers 100 years in the town of Macondo, founded by the Buendia family; the focus is on several generations of the Buendias.  Quite confusing as the author has the family use the same names (or minor variants) from generation to generation - difficult to tell one from the other - then I belatedly realized that was the author's intention.

I can see that the author addresses the cycle of liberal/conservative civil war in Latin America; incursion of foreign capital (banana plantations, in this case); role of the Catholic Church; continuation of traditional beliefs and practices; family loyalties, etc.

I just couldn't relate that well to any of the numerous characters.  The male Buendias are impulsive/obsessive; or dreamers.  The women are more grounded, but often are unable to connect (Amaranta).  Magical events occur; time folds in on itself or at least circles around; the gypsy leader is influential over the entire hundred years (and probably before and after, elsewhere); plenty of weird things happen.

The Colonel starts, and loses, 32 wars.  And makes little fishes.  Ursula is on the journey that resulted in the founding of Macondo, and lives to well over 100.

I need to think about this one a bit more, or something.

When They Come for Us We'll Be Gone - The Epic Struggle to Save Soviet Jewry (Gal Beckerman, 2010)

This book was more interesting than I expected.  Maybe one of the big surprises was how much we (or at least "I") am already forgetting how amazingly different the world was just a little over two decades ago (the Berlin Wall came down only in 1989). 

I had heard about much of this in the media, in the later years of this struggle, but didn't have a clue how the story fit into other historical themes.  And pretty much forgotten it all.

The story line here is that three million Jews remained in the Soviet Union after World War II.  Stalin distrusted them; part of the general theme of crushing any non-standard behaviors.  And also wouldn't let them emigrate - this would signal that the classless workers' paradise perhaps wasn't all it was cracked up to be.  An odd existence ensued.  These folks were often highly educated, with important jobs.  And typically not actively persecuted - just prevented from being Jews for all practical purposes.

Some started to push back.

And it's hard to recall, or believe, that folks like this were hounded by KGB agents and shipped off to the gulag such a short time ago.

The author feels that U.S. Jews were much ashamed of not doing more during the Nazi years, and also looking for ways to affirm "Jewish-ness" (however one should word that) after achieving great material success in the U.S.  Somehow they got onto the Soviet situation - often led by a Cleveland synagogue.  This led to organized politicking by Jews in new ways.  And elevated an issue that otherwise probably would have gone nowhere.

The situation in the Soviet Union was complicated - some Jews were interested in politics and emigration, others in providing a way for Jews to learn about Judaism in a situation where the authorities blocked or interfered with learning.  Others didn't care much.

And Israel was highly interested - the Middle East demographics always were daunting, and Israel viewed Russia as a great source for increasing its Jewish population.  Sought to have emigres routed to Israel.

As discussed in this book - the Holocaust per se didn't come much to the public attention until the Eichmann trial (which I understand makes good viewing on YouTube these days).  These triggers led to the U.S.-based efforts (per above).

The complicated relationship between Jews and blacks in the civil rights era.  The way the Helsinki accords (human rights provisions) backfired on the Soviets.  U.S. politicians - Kissinger, Nixon, Scoop Jackson.  Protests in NYC.  Refuseniks in Russia.  Anatoly Shcharansky.  Trials.  Internal exiles.  Chernobyl disaster as a confirmation of the rotted Soviet state.  Andrei Sakharov.  Gorbachev.  1989. 

It really is an interesting story, very helpful in looking back at the era.

The Emperor of Lies (Steve Sem-Sandberg, 2011)

This book is very unusual, and (I think) very valuable.  Over the course of 600+ pages, it made me really uncomfortable quite regularly.  Presumably that was one of the author's goals.

As to Holocaust literature - I'm slowly getting a little more perspective on this.  Reading this book helped me understand that for many years following WWII, the focus was kept only on the nations (as a whole) that were victimized by the Nazis - very little attention was allowed to the idea that the Jews were a special target - instead, they were lumped in with the rest of the population.  This changed in the 1960s - one catalyst was the 1962 Eichmann trial - one of the first times the special (mis)treatment of Jews was highlighted.  Over time following this, things changed.  The camps became memorials, the politicians starting apologizing, movies were made, books were written, museums pop up all over the world.  One profane comic in 2012 is saying, among other things, that "the Holocaust of course must not be forgotten, but that doesn't mean we are required to talk about it 24/7."

So is there too much attention, and am I personally reading too much about this?  Who knows - the circumstances are way beyond compelling.  That makes for great story lines, but also makes them perhaps less applicable to the more normal circumstances we customarily face.

This book is a novel, but based on an unusual place - the Polish city of Lodz (just a bit southwest of Warsaw) - with what became the second-largest ghetto.  Something unusual is that the Jewish administration maintained The Ghetto Chronicle - and may other written records survived.  So the novelist can piece together a story of life in Lodz during the many years (February 1940 through the end of 1944) under Nazi domination.  And include characters as to whom there was a wealth of information.

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And it's thoroughly, thoroughly depressing.  The "Emperor" is a Jewish businessman who became an authoritarian figure over the ghetto (though always under the thumb of the local Nazi administration).  The "Emperor" believed that cooperating with the Nazis was the key to survival - primarily through everyone working hard at factories.  He talked like a politician.   Collaboration.  Jewish-operated factories making parts for the Luftwaffe, uniforms for the Wehrmacht.  How strange it must have been!  But survival comes first.

Power corrupted even in this odd little world - the Emperor could indulge his unsavory habits and patronize his family, friends and favorites; payola and bribes for many in power while incredible tales of heroism by others.  The litany of awful decisions in ghetto circumstances - how much food, who gets deported, what to do with those that can't work.  Struggling to keep jobs and avoid getting transported, while always cold and hungry.  Clandestine radios.  Terrible scenes where families are split up.  Awful results for those transported out of the ghetto (which even the ghetto dwellers couldn't deny after awhile.)

The cover photo is great - the Nazis commissioned some photographer to take photos in the Lodz ghetto, equipped him with color film.  I need to track down more of the photos, I'm hoping they're sitting online somewhere.

Not an easy read.  Just amazing.

The Leopard (Giuseppe di Lampedusa, 1958 (posthumous))

I much liked this, though I'm still considering why it worked so well.  It's very unusual.

For one thing, the author is remarkably economical with words; the book is relatively short; at one level the author can't create the kind of connection with the characters that a Tolstoy can accomplish over many more pages; yet he pulls it off, and the book really works.  The author truly is quite marvelous using words, it is a delight to read the book just on that level.

Perhaps my sense of connection to this work is related to the way the story line fits with other things I've been reading (though I have no doubt the story line also would stand perfectly well on its own).  The story primarily is set in 1860s Sicily - a noble family experiences changes wrought by the Risorgimento (crystallizing around Garibaldi's arrival in Sicily).  The Prince (Fabrizio) of the House of Salina (symbol = the leopard) - approaching 50 years in age when we meet him - is the central character.  His nephew (Tancredi) appears to be nearing marriage with his daughter (Concetta) (which I guess was ok at the time), then meets the uncommonly beautiful commoner, Angelica (daughter of the nouveau riche Mayor).  Father Pirrone - confessor to the Salinas - makes a trip back to his home village and experiences a marriage setup similar to that affecting the house of Salina.  Interesting speeches by the Prince about the character of the Sicilians.  Death of the Prince - and the passing of an era in many senses.  Concetta and her sisters with the relics.  Sicily itself - the importance of geography in shaping the people.

Perhaps above all - a really effective way of communicating the oft-neglected but fundamental idea:  the transience of so many things on which we burn so much energy.

I'm constantly struck with how reading is self-reinforcing - each book makes other books far more interesting.  For example: This book was helpful in understanding The Leopard - good discussions of the gulf that still exists between northern and southern Italy (certainly including Sicily).  This book was helpful regarding the Risorgimento and the various revolutionary movements following the French Revolution (including 1848 events); with this book, it communicated the importance and incredible popularity of Garibaldi (if he was politically marginalized).  This book was interesting in terms of 19th century Italian politics - how the French and Austrians intrigued in the country (and not just in the north).  This and this drive home the Prince's comments about the history of Sicilian invaders, going back to classical times.

Well-known quote:  "If we want things to stay as they are, things will have to change." (spoken by Tancredi).

Reading Chekhov: A Critical Journey (Janet Malcolm, 2001)

I had seen a couple favorable reviews on this book, plus I much enjoyed this compilation of Chekhov short stories (though the book actually included actually fairly long stories by what I now understand to be his standard).

I found this interesting, but not terribly so.  Probably because I haven't read enough Chekhov.  Part of it was the style - the author was traveling around Russia looking at Chekhov sites, and linking occurrences to stories or themes in Chekhov stories - some of this seemed strained.

Of interest to me:

1.  Chekhov really had Tolstoy - older, more established, and so definite about so many things (if unreasonably so) - up on a pedestal.

2.  Chekhov as a master of distilling the story to the bare minimum.  Quite modern - didn't like neat resolutions.

3.  Chekhov as closely tied to his family; very loyal; grew up very quickly and pretty much led the family - the father was a religious fanatic of some sort.  Chekhov became a doctor but didn't practice a lot; did some work with indigent.

4.  The famous trip to Sakhalin - penal colony - and a report on the conditions there.  I hadn't realized he traveled cross-country (assumed it was via boat both directions, not just on the return) - and this was before the Trans-Siberian Railroad existed - wow.

5.  I liked the discussion of "The Steppe" - which was my favorite among the stories in the compilation I read.

6.  Chekhov not a fan of Dostoevsky - didn't like the "psychological" stuff.  But similar to Harold Bloom, this author traces Dostoevsky influences in Chekhov stories.

I definitely will read more of Chekhov's stories.

Reappraisals - Reflections on the Forgotten Twentieth Century (Tony Judt, 2008)

I signed out this book solely because I thought Judt did such a fantastic job with Postwar, summarized here.  This isn't a book per se, it's a compilation of various articles that he published in various periodicals between 1996 and 2004.  Like Postwar, this is full of interesting ideas - and focused on recent history, an area I have read so little about (unfortunately).

Highly recommended. 

(It would be interesting to see what Judt has to say in 2012 as the European welfare state breaks down - at the time these pieces were written, he was pretty adamant about the success of the European project, how it is a superior model to the U.S., etc.)

Things I noted:

1.  He thinks America is the only advanced country that glorifies the military; notes how we tend to put down the Euros for their de-emphasis on military.  Points out that the contrasting attitudes probably are based mostly on recent histories - Europe constantly devastated, America triumphant and un-invaded.

2.  Why Marxism was attractive to so many, and why it wasn't irrational for so many to find it attractive.  But he makes no apologies for those who hung on after its shortcomings were obvious (Sartre, for example).   How intellectuals tried to prop up Marx by going to his early writings - Louis Althusser - who wrote a book I had in a 1970s "Marxism" class about young Lenin - Judt explains why this was pretty ridiculous.

3.  Why it is a mistake to view "terrorism" as a post-Cold War phenomenon; the huge policy error of converting this to a state of world-wide war with radical Islam.

4.  He profiles various writers/intellectuals of the 20th century - most of who were just names to me until going through these articles.  (OK, they're not much more than just names at this point to me anyway.)  Hannah Arendt.  Albert Camus.

5.  As in Postwar, he goes through analyses of various countries.  France - preserving its history.  Romania - Bucharest closer to Istanbul than any central European capital. 

6. Interesting discussion of how the six-day war (1967) backfired on Israel in so many ways.  A small underdog with European Jews and a European mindset (kibbutzim); now a military power with a whole new set of issues.

7.  Interesting commentary on Nixon and Kissinger - how the two of them went off on their own, excluded State, etc.   

The Brothers Karamazov (Fyodor Dostoyevsky, 1880)

Another deservedly famous Dostoyevsky novel.  (Though I think I liked both Crime and Punishment and The Idiot even better.)  I had read this about 15 years ago but wanted to come back to it after having had the opportunity to do more reading in the meantime.  Didn't remember much except the initial scene when papa Karamazov buffoons it up at the monastery visiting the elder (Zosima).

So many strong characters:

- Fyodor - lecherous father
- Alyosha - the hero - younger brother - reminds me of the Idiot (Myshkin) in some ways.
- Dmitri - older brother - passionate; generous (always with money received from others)
- Ivan - middle brother - intellectual (rationalist, nihilist); anxious to rise above Christian, run-of-the-mill values
- Smerdyakov - Fyodor's illegitimate son (it is rumored); thinks he has a special relationship with Ivan; too clever by half
- Katya - bowed down to Dmitri
- Grushenka - Dmitri (and Fyodor) fall for her "curves", Dmitri ending up very much in love
- Madame Kohvalov (talky) and daughter (Lise - nice scene professing her soon-to-be-withdrawn betothal with Alyosha)
- Ilusha and his father (wisp of tow); Krossotkin
- Father Zosima

The "Grand Inquisitor" - Ivan's poem about Jesus returning to earth and being imprisoned by a Spanish Jesuit - this is often presented as a separate work. 

Toward the end of the novel, there is a lengthy portrayal of Dmitri's trial.  I didn't think it added much to the story. 

Baseball in the Garden of Eden - The Secret History of the Early Game (John Thorn, 2011)

Simon and Schuster book; gift from CCG (thanks!)  I hadn't even been aware that the book existed.

It was surprisingly interesting - an entirely new take, at least for me, on the origins of baseball.  I had last paid attention to this topic probably 40 years, give or take - when MLB observed the 100th anniversary of the Cincinnati professional team in 1969.  So I was familiar with the debunked status of Abner Doubleday, but otherwise had heard mostly about Alexander Cartwright (who also didn't "invent" anything, though at least was involved in rules development and the like).  This author goes into much more background.

Thoughts:

1.  I like how the author starts the book with the story of a commission that was charged with determining the origins of the game; its report, issued in 1910, identified Doubleday on flimsy evidence.  The author then pushes back in time to show other sources of the game, plus devotes time to explaining why Doubleday might have been entertained as a putative parent of the game.

2.  Interesting stories about "town ball," "old cat," base ball", etc.  Newspaper clippings or town records reference this going back to the 18th century (usually in reference to banning play near windows, or somesuch).  The "New York" version coming to the fore, the "Massachusetts" version fading.

3.  If one tries to think back to the origins of the game - quite an amazing chain of events - somehow it developed that people were willing to pay money to watch a game that was barely known.  The Civil War helped spread it.

4.  I liked how he links the development of formalized rules, statistics, etc. to gambling.  How the game was shaped in so many ways by those who would use it to make money (like there was anything wrong with that).  How the game sought to sell itself as a pure, amateur endeavor - similar to college sports, and just as big a joke.  19th century "amateur" players were busted for holding sinecures with boosters or owners - just last week one of the football factories was busted for the same practice.

5.  Lengthy, interesting discussions of the origins of the reserve clause, the notion of free agency, salary caps, designated hitters, prohibition of blacks, formation of rival leagues, etc.  Good run-up to how the American League finally survived to join the National League. 

6.  Getting back to the Doubleday fabrication - there is an odd connection to the Theosophist group - some weird cult-like organization that had some following in the 19th century and into the 20th.  Albert Spaulding was involved, as were his second wife and other figures tied to the sport.  Civil War figure Doubleday also was heavily involved with the Theosophists.  After surviving some rough patches, the powers that be in charge of baseball in 1910 were highly interested in proving an all-American, high-integrity, glossy paternity for the game.  Doubleday was a great candidate (plus attractive to the Theosophists).  The case for his paternity rested almost entirely on the recollections of an old man who was five years old when Doubleday invented the game in 1939 (i.e., the evidence was a joke).

The Anatomy of Influence - Literature as a Way of Life (Harold Bloom, 2011)

This is a very recent book that has received great reviews and is appearing on a number of "best of" lists for 2011.  The author has taught at Yale for decades while also being a very well-known (though not to me) literary critic. 

I found the book very interesting - but I still don't know why, because I simply don't understand what he's talking about most of the time.  This is an entirely different level of engagement with literature.

The basic premise here - and in other of his works - is the role of "influence" - how writers were influenced by others.  But I can't follow the influence threads very well; perhaps because much of the book is focused on poetry, which is a foreign land to me.

And he keeps talking about things that are inscrutable to me (and, I suspect, unhelpful):  gnosticism, Lucretianism, etc.

Something I liked: he's 80 and recently experienced very poor health - this comes through - he suspects this is his last hurrah, probably isn't filtering opinions, etc.

Something that was clear to me:  I need to take another run at Shakespeare.  This author just loves Shakespeare - he ranks him way above all others (giving Walt Whitman somewhat similar acclaim in the American market).  And he quotes plenty of others who share his views of Shakespeare.  Emerson said, "He [Shakespeare] wrote the text of modern life."  Bloom:  "I can think of no one except Shakespeare and Montaigne who has such wisdom beyond tendentiousness." Bloom:  "The miracle of Shakespearean representation is its contaminating power:  one hundred major characters and a thousand adjacent figures throng our streets and sidle into our lives." Now that's influence.

Bloom:  "I keep returning to Shakespeare in the chapters that follow not because I am a Bardolator (I am) but because he is inescapable for all who came after, in all nations of the world except France, where Stendhal and Victor Hugo went against their country's neoclassical rejection of what was regarded as dramatic 'barbarism'."  That quote sounds cool but I need to think more about what the last part means.

Bloom thinks "Nostromo" is Conrad's best book:  good choice.  He admires Proust, Milton, quite a few others.

So I will start spending some time with Shakespeare.  Not sure I care about exploring Whitman's stuff, maybe later. 

And maybe I'll read this book again in a decade or so and see if it makes some sense to me.

Railroaded - The Transcontinentals and the Making of Modern America (Richard White, 2011)

Brand new book, very well reviewed.  Usually I'm very careful about book selection - far too many from which to choose, time is precious, and I feel guilty if I don't finish a book once I start it (which is odd when you think about it).

Made a selection mistake this time, so this was the unusual case where I happily dumped the book (after 150 or so pages in this instance).  The title - "Railroaded" - perhaps should have tipped me off.  The author came across like a New York Times editorial page contributor - he seemed unduly proud of having discovered the thoroughly unoriginal notion that government officials and large-scale businesses look out for each other (with demonization focused on the business side, of course).

I don't get tired of reading about the manner in which railroads transformed societies worldwide, and I was hoping the book would be interesting in that direction.

But no.

Faust, Part I (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, preliminary 1806, revised 1828)

Goethe's version (Penguin paperback here) of a well-known tale with centuries-old roots.  It's interesting that Goethe (bio here) was struggling with the story for much of his adult life - Part II wasn't even published until after his death.  Part I came out in preliminary form in 1806 and was issued in revised form in 1828.  So "different" Goethes were working on different parts of the work.

I ordinarily don't read plays, and have trouble getting through them.  Should work on that.  But this one was short.  Faust is frustrated with his inability to possess knowledge; cuts the famous bargain with the devil (signed with a drop of blood, per picture); starts hanging out with Mephistopheles and having various adventures (including the scene where wine is tapped from the barroom table); corrupts Gretchen; kills Gretchen's brother; attends the witch-gathering; seeks to spring Gretchen; etc.

The devil seems to be the most "human" character in these types of stories, which I find interesting.

Numerous stage versions, numerous adaptations.  I think the critics generally considered this a great work though flawed in construction, I read that Part II doesn't flow well.