The Magic Mountain (Thomas Mann, 1924)

"Your statement is incoherent, my good engineer," Settembrini said in reply, "yet its reprehensibility still shines through."  This is an entirely inconsequential quote in the book.  I jotted it down simply because I so much enjoyed the language throughout this book, and it seemed like as good an example as any.  (Maybe I'll get a chance to use this line someday.)

This translation runs a little over 700 pages, and was completely engaging throughout.  Difficult to absorb, I definitely will need to work back through this.  I can see why it appears on so many "must read" lists, and am grateful I finally got around to it.  The typical focus here is on how the book is a metaphor for pre-World War I Europe - and I can somewhat see this - but there's so much more going on.

I think it's wonderful.  Enough to where I just bought the book.

Plot is well-known - an "entirely normal" individual (Hans Castorp) leaves Hamburg and goes to a Swiss sanatorium for a three-week visit to his ill cousin who is a patient there; ends up staying seven years.  Even then would not have found his way out except for external circumstances.  He finds life at 5000+ foot elevation quite different than life in the "flatlands."

Among other things, Hans Castorp immediately notices that "time" is different in the mountains.  The setting, the role of illness, the lack of prescribed tasks (other than five meals per day and several "rest cures"), a climate where snow can (and does) fall any month of the year - make time almost irrelevant.  How time changes when one goes on a vacation or otherwise experiences a break from one's normal schedule. Mann muses about this quite a bit.  I need to think about this.  My own experience of "time" is changing - after decades of being nothing but extremely busy, I am consciously seeking not to be. It matters.

The role of illness - a very compelling way of discussing how illness can make day-to-day concerns meaningless.  But they're not meaningless.  How is this reconciled?  Similarly:  the role of death - for all, but particularly for patients in a setting where many don't survive.  Patients typically taking treatment in the "horizontal position" (including at "rest cure") - but then there also was the permanent horizontal position, often commencing before death.

Sanatorium director - Behrens - seems like a quack/salesperson - but there are genuinely ill folks at the institution, and he seems genuinely interested in helping them. Not sure how to take him.

Hans Castorp's cousin, Joachim Ziemssen - well-liked, military.

Hans Castorp is very interested in sometimes-fellow patient, Clavdia Chauchat.

Two major characters are introduced - both required to live at elevation due to poor health - Herr Settembrini - the Italian, humanist, democrat, Freemason - and Naptha - Jewish and converted to Catholicism, would-be Jesuit, now a teacher at the high school.  There are many, many pages devoted to the musings and arguments of these two folks on every imaginable topic - often directed to Hans Castorp.  Settembrini sometimes sets up Asia v. Europe, with Germany in the fulcrum.  Much of this may relate to pre-war conditions, but I don't know how to put that together.  It is all very interesting, very erudite; the more one has read, the more interesting it would be.

Then Mynheer Peeperkorn shows up (with Clavdia Chauchat) - he is typically incoherent in speech, yet dominates all - elderly, regal, Hans Castorp keeps referring to his dominant "personality" - the point being that this seems to leave the two scholarly disputants overwhelmed.  Interesting, I don't know what this is about - force of personality over strength of rationality, logic, articulate-ness?  I wonder whether the original German term translates to "personality" in the way I think of the term?

I enjoyed the description of the short (and prematurely-ended) visit of Hans Castorp's uncle.

Hans Castorp was a mediocrity when he arrived at the sanatorium, but learned a great deal during seven years.  Including a phase where he learned lots of details about the way nature works (anatomy, botany, etc.) - interesting contrast to the esoterica, interesting interplay with his interest in Clavdia.

And what was going on at the end of the book - Hans Castorp's interest in music (via a new phonograph); the girl with medium powers; the "great petulance" that seemed to lead to confrontations (this did seem to have a presaging effect).  Then, a very powerful finish.

There's something going on here - about our entirely proper focus on job, day to day responsibilities, social standing, politics and current events, the sorts of ostensibly deeper digs by folks like Settembrini and Naptha - all so worthwhile and important - yet how this inevitably gets swamped by illness, change of circumstance, falling in love, big personality, points of honor, physical attraction, the power of music, perhaps even whatever goes on with a medium.  Hmm.

Ivan's War - Life and Death in the Red Army, 1939-1945 (Catherine Merridale, 2006)

At the beginning of the book - highly reviewed - I was getting disappointed.  Much of the content was narrative about key WWII battles in which the Red Army participated - stuff that I've read about and wasn't looking for more detail at the moment -Kursk, Stalingrad, Stalingrad, Leningrad, Moscow, Berlin, etc.

The author also was trying to describe "how it felt", and I thought her effort paled in comparison to this one (though I see its author was recruited for a blurb on the back jacket).

But I liked this better as I went along.  Quick, easy read; interesting, all in all.

The Russian soldier must have had the most difficult experience of the WWII combatants (recognizing this is difficult, and probably just plain wrong, to try to rank).  But think about it.  The country came through the czarist upheavals, Bolshevik takeover, WWI failures, Red v. White civil war, Stalin's tightening grip, 1930s terror, collectivization, starvation in the Ukraine, intense army purges, hateful rhetoric toward Germany, then a non-aggression pact with Germany - this was before war broke out.

Stalin then froze up, the Germans almost took the country, millions were killed or taken prisoner.  Horrific fighting.  Utter disregard for loss of life among Soviet leaders.  Much of Russia overrun - with unbelievable brutality - by the Nazis.  Low level of professionalism in the army - too much influence of the political advisers.  One defeat after the next.  Can't overstate what the Nazis did to the Slavs - completely different behavior than in, for example, France.

Penal battalions.  Blocking units - to shoot down folks trying to run away from the front.

Yet they came together after Stalingrad - simply amazing.

As they pushed the Germans back through Russia and its territories - these areas were devastated a second time.

As the Russians advanced into Romania and beyond - shocked to see that capitalist countries lived so well.  (Yes, apparently even Romania looked pretty good in comparison to Russia in those days.)

Into Germany - pillaging, brutal rapes, constantly; fed by propaganda from the top.  This left a sour taste for many - not what they signed up for.  Difficult fighting all the way to Berlin.

Even though archives became available - very little in them, at least as discovered so far.  Censors controlled.  Similarly, surviving soldiers generally didn't want to talk much - part of the coping mechanism, I suppose, similar even for US vets.

After the war - some talk of heroes, and genuine gratitude.  But Stalin didn't want to share glory.  Moreso, these folks moved back into a wrecked country, that had been at war longer, that had been occupied and terrorized by worst behavior; back into a socialist system, collectives, famine, suspicion, transports, complete denial of any psychological problems, limited support.

Just amazing.

Between the Woods and the Water (Patrick Leigh Fermor, 1986)

I became aware of this book in a discussion of "travel" books.  It's that - and much more.  Relatively short.  Delightful.  (It's also a wonderful companion to this book about pre-WWI Austria - pure coincidence I read them so closely in time.)  

In the 1930s, the author (Fermor) - then youthful - set off on foot from Holland to Constantinople (as it was then known) after not thriving at school in England.  He took notes along the way, in varying degrees of detail depending on circumstances.  (Yes, it's quite a journey.)

In the 1940s, Fermor was in the British army - interestingly, using his knowledge of the area that included Greece and Crete (in part learned on the 1930s stroll-about) - and became a well-known war hero.  He parachuted into Crete, kidnapped a German general, smuggled him into Egypt.  Among other things.

In his 60s, Fermor started turning his 1930s adventures into book form.  So he was a very different Fermor than the wandering youth.  I'm guessing this is one of the two biggest reasons why the book works so well.  The book was intended to be released in three parts (though the third part didn't happen).  This book is number two in the sequence - when Fermor, 19 years old, travels from the Danube on the border between Hungary and Slovakia, to the "Iron Gates" at the border of Romania and (what was then called) Yugoslavia.  This book was written in the 1980s.

The other big reason the book is so wonderful - the timing of his walk - 1930s - much had already changed as a result of World War I, but Fermor saw, up-close, a world that was shattered in the 1940s and isolated behind the Iron Curtain for 40+ years thereafter.  The stories of his encounters seem scarcely possible in the 20th century.  Yet it was written less than 30 years ago - amazing.

Some things I liked:

1.  His use of the English language is delightful.

2.  As this book so interestingly explained - this part of the world was actually heavily integrated into Europe for centuries - after decades behind the Iron Curtain, we tend to think of its separate-ness, or other-ness.  This biography of Lizst made the same point in a different way.  Educated folks in this part of the world looked to the West prior to WWII, and were part of "Europe."

3.  As this book so interestingly explained - this part of the world also was heavily involved with the East - primarily the Ottoman Turks.  Extensive Muslim influence going back centuries.  Fermor wandered near many famous battlegrounds.  Hungary was dominated by Constantinople for many years.

4.  Fermor intended to live among the commoners while traveling on foot.  But he had introductions to nobility in Hungary, and was rather passed along from welcoming house to welcoming house (all the way into Romania).  He expressed some guilt about straying from plan, but clearly was massively enjoying these encounters.  Hungarian nobility wasn't necessarily all that wealthy, at least in a cash sense, in those days.  And there were lots of Hungarian counts floating around.  But they certainly retained the old traditions of hospitality.

5.  Interesting background on the Magyars, Habsburgs, etc.  And about rivalries with Romania, Serbia, etc.  He covers the Louis Kossuth events, which were interestingly explained in this book. 

6.  He wanders through Romania - which included areas of Hungarian population - explains Vlad the Impaler plus the Dracula origins (derived from dragon).  Explains the wandering tribes that, over the centuries, populated these areas.

7.  Carpathians, Wallachia, Moldova.  Now I have a better feel for this geography.  (Which is helping as I finish a book about the Red Army heading toward Berlin in 1944.)

8.  Fermor encounters numerous gypsy settlements.  And old-style shepherds.  In the 20th century!

9.  He runs into odd Christian and Jewish sects - fascinating histories - thoroughly isolated - reformation and counter-reformation reached here, but only about so much.

10.  Old-style forests - beautiful descriptions of nature - where wolves and bears still lived.

11.  Certainly didn't know or recall that the Romans were very active in campaigns against the Dacians.  Which does bring to mind "Romania" as a place-name.  High level of activity right near the "Iron Gates." 

This book was fascinating in its own right, but fit in so well with other things I find interesting.

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).