This Week at the Library

Do One Green Thing

2012-01-27T17:57:00.001-06:00

Do One Green Thing: Saving the Earth through Simple, Everyday Choices
© 2010 Mandy Pennybacker
270 pages

Environmentalism, once the province of hippies and college students on the fringe in the 1970s, is finally percolating into the national consciousness. It's never been more important, but awareness doesn't always translate into activism. Those who are interested in living intelligently and doing right by one another by protecting the environment may not know how to make steps in that direction, or feel relatively powerless in the grand scale of things. Mandy Pennybacker has produced a functional but light green reference guide for consumers, devoting distinct sections to Food and Drink, A Green and Healthy Home, Personal Care and Apparel, and Transportation. Pennybacker first explains why consumer choices in these areas matter; in the section on drinking water, for instance, she points out the hidden environmental cost of water. The amount of processing that disposable bottles require increases the actual cost of that water threefold: even though those costs haven't been passed on to buyers yet, drinking tap water (using the filter, if you're squeamish) and using refillable bottles is a better choice by far. She then lets readers know how and where they can find the superior products, offering general advice on what to look for as well as the names of specific sellers -- like Ecolution, in the case of hemp clothing.

These days green awareness is so mainstream that companies have co-opted it, greenwashing their goos by advertising them as environmentally friendly when in fact they've made no actual effort to fundamentally improve their product. Pennybacker is especially useful in addressing this, providing readers with lists of advertising labels that are legitimate (official seals of approval from third parties), questionable, or outright meaningless. The last includes vague claims like 'free range' and unspecific references to 'green' and 'organic'. Michael Pollan showed how insubstantial these claims can be in his The Omnivore's Dilemma.

While the book is a useful reference guide to buying responsible, safe products (or making one's own; Pennybacker includes recipes for environmentally safe floor cleaner and the like), the singular emphasis on consumer choices (with little mention given toward lifestyle changes) disappointed me. The section on lighting tells you which bulb to buy, but doesn't suggest ways to minimize the use of lighting in general. The section on transportation mentions bicycling exactly once; in the title. There's no actual information on the viability of bicycle commuting. Even so, Do One Green Thing should be a good start for those new to environmentally responsible living.

This Week at the Library (25 January)

2012-01-25T19:40:00.000-06:00

Pending Reviews: How the Mind Works, Steven Pinker; If Walls Could Talk, Lucy Worsley
Currently Reading: Death from the Skies!, Phil Plait; The Fabric of the Cosmos, Brian Greene
Potentials: Sharpe's Regiment, Bernard Cornwell

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One Victorian cartoon shows a desperate father trying to commit suicide by sticking his head in the gas oven. His concerned family beg him to put off the deed until the cheaper evening gas rate starts.

p. 203, If Walls Could Talk

The first regular television broadcasts were made in 1932, a year in which seventy-six half-hour programmes went out. But no one was sure how many living rooms they reached. In 1933, viewers were asked: 'The BBC is most anxious to know the number of people who are actually seeing this television programme. Will those who are looking in send a postcard marked "Z" to Broadcasting House immediately?'

p. 229, If Walls Could Talk

Today's builders and town planners are also interested in the notion that people don't just inhabit houses, they live in 'places'. Tudor towns were perfect examples of what planners seek: densely populated, walkable communities in which rich and poor live in close proximity. In their markets local, seasonal food was available, just as it is in the phenomenon of the farmer's markets today.

p. 324, If Walls Could Talk

Teaser Tuesday (24 January)

2012-01-23T21:59:00.000-06:00

Teaser Tuesday is weekly game hosted by ShouldBeReading.

The chivalric cult had a strange parallel in the sleeping arrangment known as 'bundling', which was common both to rural areas of seventeenth-century Wales and to eighteenth-century New England. This was likewise a non-sexual relationship, where a young man and woman passed the night alone in a bedroom together, but remained fully clothed. Sometimes they were even tied down or a board was placed down the middle of their bed. The idea was to make it through to morning without having sex, in order to find out whether they got on well enough together to marry. Until 1800, when it began to arouse a new moralistic disapproval, to 'bundle' was considered both chaste and sensible as it lead to more successful marriages.

p. 67, If Walls Could Talk: An Intimate History of the Home; Lucy Worsley. This is an advanced review copy of a book due out on 28 February.

Choices of One

2012-01-23T18:45:00.000-06:00

Star Wars: Choices of One
© 2011 Timothy Zahn
366 pages

The choices of one shape the futures of all. (Jedi saying)

Timothy Zahn's Allegiance (2006) introduced us to the Hand of Judgment, a band of "rogue stormtroopers" -- deserters turned do-good vigilantes. In Choices of One, these four hook up with Emperor Palpatine's favored agent, Mara Jade, to 'correct' a governor in the hinterlands who is rumored to be meeting with the leaders of the rebellion. Though the Death Star has been destroyed, the Empire is far from finished, and the rebels badly need a new base of operations. Luke and Han -- the latter struggling with his place in a military organization -- are dispatched to investigate the governor's offer, and at the edges of known space they, Jade, the Hand of Judgment, Senior Captain Thrawn, and Commander Palleon are drawn into a web of intrigue, spun by an unknown individual with a concealed agenda.

Although the plot proper doesn't add much to the Star Wars canon, other than setting up The Empire Strikes Back, it offers first a mystery and then an action thriller that sees the character growth we missed between A New Hope and its sequel; Luke is still "the kid", still growing in confidence and ability. Han's connection to the rebellion, formerly tenuous, grows here -- and he and Leia bounce off each other nicely. It is Zahn's characters who steal the show, though: despite the fact they're all villains in that they serve the Empire in one form or another, their motivations are wholly respectable -- or in Jade's case, at least understandable -- and I couldn't help but root for them, especially for the "Hand of Judgment" and the Thrawn-Palleon duo which has its beginnings here. Like the films, the action steadily increases, and at its height all of the characters are involved in desperate fights of their own, all of which are part of a greater conflict between the characters and whoever is responsible for drawing both the Empire and the Rebellion to this previously-forgotten world on the fringes of the empire.

Fun thriller with great characters; recommended.

At Home

2012-01-21T14:21:00.000-06:00

At Home: A Short History of Private Life
© 2011 Bill Bryson
512 pages

How much history and how many laughs can you put under one roof? Take a tour of Bill Bryson's old English home with him and find out. At the outset of the book, Bryson shares a few experiences in and around his home which impressed upon him the fact that there's a great deal of fascinating history bound up in the mundane environment we take most for granted; our houses. And so, he labors to tell the stories of his house -- of all of houses, and of civilization in general.

A guided visit through his house, room, by room, frames a collection of essays covering the entire range of human activity and history. Some topics are directly connected to the room in question. For instance, when writing on the kitchen Bryson treats the reader to a history of salt and spice -- after assuring us that nothing we touch today will have "more bloodshed, suffering, and woe [...] than the innocuous twin pillars of your salt and pepper shaker." Other connections are more tenuous: while in the cellar, Bryson rambles cheerfully on about the materials used in homebuilding, and a journey into the garden merits a discussion on public parks. Each room inspires several different but connected sets of thoughts; the kitchen is also a place to discussion nutrition. While the Victorian period in America and England provides the setting of most of Bryson's thoughts, they cover most of western history.

At Home is enormously entertaining, not just to serious-minded students of history who are honestly fascinating by brick-making and the tools of Neanderthals, but to those who enjoy the absurd and grotesque -- history abounds in little stories that make modern audiences' jaws drop in horror or disbelief, and Bryson is a gleeful sharer of those tales. If the content doesn't make you laugh, Bryson's dry wit in delivering these stories will.

Recommended to those who want some light reading that will provide laughs and sneak in a little history to boot.

The Oceans

2012-01-21T13:45:00.000-06:00

The Oceans
© 2000 Ellen J. Prager with Sylvia A. Earle
314 pages

Seventy percent of the Earth's surface is covered in water, constituting a vast and largely unknown world of its own -- vitally important to ours, but scarcely explored and barely understood. Beneath the placid (but sometimes storm-tossed) surface lay valley with depths that have never been plumbed; volcanic mountains; great beasts whose size staggers the imagination, and creatures so bizarre that they could just as easily hail from another world. The Oceans is a brief but substantial introduction to this fascinating and vitally important element of our planet.

Life began in the oceans, albeit in very different waters from the ones we delight in today. Prager opens the book with a history of 'evolution's drama', following the growth and divergence of life through th Paleozoic and Mesozoic eras, ending with our own Cenozoic. The oceans have been home to a marvelous variety of life throughout the ages, and the authors devote the rest of the book to understanding the current oceanic environment, examine its chemical, geologic, and biological aspects in turn. Even those of us who don't live near a coast experience the ocean's effects on our lives, through weather; a separate section covers hurricanes, monsoons, El Niño effects, sea level changes, and the increasing impact of global warming. Given how much of our economies -- indeed, planetary life itself -- depends on the health of the seas, an understanding of them is crucial, especially for those in political and economic leadership. Unfortunately, humans -- not known for being the most farsighted of creatures -- have been steadily destroying that environment for decades. In "A Once-Bountiful Sea", the authors examine the kinds of damage being done, but offer some encouragement in the fact that some governments are taking the issue seriously, if only out of economic reality and not out of concern for the global environment. The final chapter looks to the future of oceanography, for what we know is dwarfed by what we don't; only 95% of the ocean have been explored. The best is yet to come.

While the subject is fascinating by itself, and utterly relevant, Ellen Prager also proves to be an excellent guide through the oceans, not drowning the reader in details but still delivering depth. She proves talented at explaining fundamental processes in a lucid way -- for instance, showing how waves worth. She's the author of several other books (Sex, Drugs, and Sea Slime: the Ocean's Oddest Creatures and Why They Matter; Furious Earth: the Science and Nature of Earthquakes, Volcanoes, and Tsunamis, among others), and I'll definitely be looking into them in the future.

Related:

Virtually anything by Jacques-Yves Cousteau.

The Misunderstood Jew

2012-01-19T11:44:00.001-06:00

The Misunderstood Jew: the Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus
© 2007 Amy-Jill Levine
250 pages

Amy-Jill Levine is a Jew for Jesus. No, not that kind of Jew -- she's happily Orthodox, thank you very much. But she grew up with Christian friends and developed an interest in Christian culture to the point that as a child, her Barbie and Ken dolls took celebrated Eucharist with one another -- and as an adult, she teaches on the New Testament at a largely Protestant divinity school. As someone who cherishes both religious traditions, she writes to help Christians and Jews understand one another, and believes that such an understanding may and must be rooted on the fact that Jesus, the inspiration of Christianity, was thoroughly Jewish. He is neither a heretical figure Jews should distance themselves from, nor a theological revolutionary who rendered Judaism irrelevant to those who followed him.

The first chapter covers material which I expected to be the whole of the book; using the gospel accounts to establish that Jesus was a Jew in practice, beliefs, manners, and dress. Some of this is open to interpretation -- Levine believes that Jesus simply taught the heart of Judaism without answering to particularly restrictive schools of it and emphasizes that the Christian perception of Jewish orthodoxy is somewhat skewed given that the Pharisees of the bible are written as villains. After this she devotes a chapter to the growth of the Christian church from a small community of Jews to a network of communities spread out around the Mediterranean basin, dominated by 'Gentiles'. As the church moves further away from Judaism, hostility between the two now-divergent faiths increases, and this leads into several chapters on anti-Semitism. First, Levine examines claims that the New Testament is explicitly anti-Jewish. She doesn't believe so, but allows that it CAN be used in an anti-Jewish fashion, and this is a source of agitation for her throughout the book. She even devotes a chapter ("With Friends Like These...") to attacking liberal theologians who see Christ as rescuing spirituality from religion...because, since the religion in question is Judaism, they must not think very much of it. This chapter bothered me, for Levine seems overly sensitive. Criticizing the perceived excesses of first-century Judaism is no more anti-Jewish than criticizing the abuses of the Israeli state is anti-Semitic. Excesses are excesses regardless of who perpetuates them. Unfortunately, Levine doesn't seem to keen on the idea of admitting that there were excesses at the time, when surely there must have been -- when has an institution with the power of religion never been abused?

The final chapter, however, ends things on a high note. In "Distinct Canons; Distinct Practices", Levine drives home the point that Judaism and Christianity are different religions: Jewish theology and Christian theology aren't the same. The best example is that of original sin and the fall from grace. It is Paul who invents the idea that Jesus died as a sacrifice to redeem people, and it is Christians who are obsessed with the idea of sin and it keeping them from the afterlife. Judaism isn't about the afterlife.

While the book has its merits, I left ultimately disappointed. I think more space should have been devoted to first-century Judaism to more fully establish the context of Jesus' life, especially since first-century Judaism and modern Orthodox Judaism are as different as first-century Christianity and its modern forms. Jesus' Jewish audience shares ideas with him that no modern Jew would profess -- belief in Satan as a villain, for instance, seen as an evil dragon. They're also obsessed by the end of the world; that apocalyptic fire is now largely dead. The Misunderstood Jew should still be of use to Christians who are utterly oblivious about Judaism, but I think the the audience it would best serve are Jews who are leery of both Jesus and the New Testament, for Levine does establish that Jesus and the gospel accounts are firmly rooted in Jewish culture and not hostile to it.

Related:

Liberating the Gospels: Reading the Bible through Jewish Eyes, John Shelby Spong
Jesus: Apocalyptic Prophet of the New Millennium, Bart Ehrman

I haven't read either of these, but I'm fans of both of the authors and look forward to experiencing the books at some point.

This Week at the Library (18 January)

2012-01-18T08:01:00.000-06:00

Pending Reviews: How the Mind Works, Stephen Pinker; The Misunderstood Jew: the Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus, Amy-Jill Levine.
Currently Reading: The Fabric of the Cosmos, Brian Greene; At Home, Bill Bryson
Potentials: The Oceans, Ellen Prager
New Releases: Bernard Cornwell just published the sixth Saxon Stories novel, The Death of Kings, which excites me to no end. Here's hoping my library picks it up quickly.

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"It seems a shame to have to turn your back on what took so long and required so much work and study to accomplish."
Bryce thought it seemed a shame, too. But starving seemed an even bigger shame. "You don't always get to do what you want to do," he said. "Sometimes, you do what you have to do, and pick up the pieces from there."

p. 380, Supervolcano: Eruption

Supervolcano: Eruption

2012-01-17T22:48:00.002-06:00

Supervolcano: Eruption
© 2011 Harry Turtledove
420 pages

"I love the smell of hydrogen sulfide in the morning," Daniel intoned. "Smells like...tenure."

p. 146

Sometimes, even Harry Turtledove must tire of penning novels based on World War II. I don't know what spurred his interest in writing this novel -- the fact that 2012 will be a good year for disaster entertainment, perhaps, or the simple need to take a break from the War that Came Early series -- but this science fiction apocalyptic adventure is a drastic change from his usual military-action tomes. He opens on Lieutenant Colin Ferguson, a recently divorced and badly hungover cop taking a vacation to Yellowstone National Park to clear his mind, who barks at a parka-clad figure hunched over a geyser to scold her for trespassing. She proves to be a geologist taking readings of seismic activity, one who believes the Yellowstone basin presents a future danger to the global environment. Underneath the geysers and pine trees lurks trouble: a supervolcano in the making. Were it to erupt, the energy released would destroy everything around it for hundreds of miles -- and the amount of ash thrown into Earth's skies could very well lead to an ice age. Naturally, someone forgets knock on wood.

From the start, the newly-single Curtis is interested in this geologist; his attraction and genuine interest in the implications of such a catastrophe compel him to learn more about it, preferably over dinner dates with her. Their budding relationship allows Turtledove to gently explain the premise and science of the novel in an unobtrusive way, though the novel's action is slow to take off. The fun doesn't start until a quarter of the way in: for the first hundred or so pages, Turtledove introduces his panel of viewpoint characters, all of whom are Colin's relations -- his divorced wife, his sons (one a touring 20-something musician, the other a perpetual college student), his impressively abrasive daughter Vanessa, and her ex-boyfriend, who is working on a thesis related to Hellenistic poetry and who has remained friends with Colin despite being dumped by the lieutenant's daughter.

In the end, it's the premise and not necessarily its execution which carries the novel. The usual Turtledove baggage -- repetition -- is fully present, and the pace sometimes bogs down in minutia. This is especially striking after Yellowstone goes "boom", in a scene where a band-on-tour breakfasts in Maine, and the viewpoint character devotes an entire page to describing what each member of the band had for breakfast. There's a giant dead zone in the middle of the continent, and he hasn't heard from his sister in Denver -- but these are trivial matters compared to the appropriateness of ordering Mexican food in a fishing village, apparently. Still, Turtledove won me over for the most part. He introduces a fun character in the last fifth of the novel whose personality makes him one of the most likable characters in the novel (not that he's against a lot of competition: Curtis' sons are bums, and even he refers to his daughter as 'a mean dog'). Once the disaster began to unfold, my interest peaked, especially as months wore on and people began having to make adjustments. The amount of time that passes in the novel is unclear to me -- it begins immediately after Memorial Day, and at least one college semester passes -- but it's lengthy enough that we see more than immediate consequences. The wasteland of the plains strains the connections between the east and west coasts, causing resource crunches; the ash fallout creates a respiratory panic; the United States' diminished strength creates fun times for the middle east when Iran decides to seize the day and bloody Israel's nose. The novel leaves before entering long-term territory, though. Does mass starvation follow the ruin of all the plains crops? What becomes of the nations who rely on the US for their imported food? The end leaves many of the characters hanging, but all resolute to pick up the pieces as best they can.

Although burdened with painful repetition and slow to start, ultimately the interesting premise and character growth push Supervolcano into 'fair enough' territory. It's left me with the desire to study up on volcanoes and the possibility of a Yellowstone disaster -- isn't provoking an interest in learning the point of science fiction?

Post-edit note: according to a Turtledove wikisite, this is the first of a new trilogy. I hope Turtledove gets a better handle on what he's aiming for here: while he can get away with a character-dominated story in a war novel in which the viewpoint characters are soldiers participating in the central drama, in Eruption they're just getting in the way and reducing the supposed star of the show, the volcano, to an obscured background reference.

The Throne of Fire

2012-01-17T12:12:00.000-06:00

The Kane Chronicles #2: The Throne of Fire
© 2011 Rick Riordan
464 pages

Sadie Kane isn't even a teenager yet, but she and her older brother have four days to find the three pieces of the lost Book of Ra, ressurected the old king of the gods, and help him defeat Apophis, giant snake and lord of chaos. Sucks being a kid, especially if you're the heir of two powerful lines of ancient Egyptian pharaohs. And to make matters worse, the only adults who might be of help, magicians skilled in the Egyptian ways, are convinced that Sadie and Carter are up to no good -- and they're determined to kill the two youngsters who are causing so much trouble. At least they have a dwarf on their side.

In The Red Pyramid, Rick Riordan introduced his fantasy series steeped in the world of Egyptian mythology, and I for one found the new setting fantastic. It combines the familiar (chaos vs order) with the alien. The central importance of the Nile is especially obvious here, as the attempt to resurrect Ra means taking a dangerous journey down it through the twelve Houses, meeting and prevailing over a panel of bizarre deities and demons while being chased by a mad Russian. It's not quite as novel as the first book -- the setting is established and the general plot well-trodden, since Rioridan's characters usually only have a few days before the world ends. At least poor Harry had the better part of a year to hunt down Horcruxes -- but entertaining enough.

Top Ten Books I'd Recommend to Someone Who Doesn't Read Nonfiction

2012-01-17T10:49:00.000-06:00

This week the Broke and the Bookish are asking people to recommend ten books to someone who doesn't read a particular genre. Since nonfiction doesn't get a lot of love in the blogging community -- people read it sparingly if at all -- and it generally constitutes half or more of my reading, I though I'd focus on it today.I consider nonfiction reading a valuable resource for continuing education -- not only in specific subjects, but as a human being. Therefore, here are ten titles which I think could either (1) entice lay people to learn more about an area of human knowledge or (2) prompt people to consider the way they live their lives.

1. Guns, Germs, and Steel; Jared Diamond

Some books simply tell a story; others impart a fundamental understanding of how history works, In Guns, Germs, and Steel, Diamond examines the success and failure of various civilizations as the result of geography and local resources, drawing on multiple disciplines; the result is a fantastic read that draws as much from science as it does from history.

2. The Consolations of Philosophy, Alain de Botton

Think philosophy is academic fluff with no relevance to your life? Hardly! Throughout human history, the concerns of philosophers have always hit close to home; it's only recently that they've acquired a poor reputation. Alain de Botton shows the value of a considered life by examining the thoughts of Seneca on anger, Epicures on simple living and anti-consumerism, Schopenhauer on broken hearts, and more. A similar title is Plato's Podcasts: the Ancients' Guide to Modern Living.

3. Theories for Everything: An Illustrated History of Science, various authors (National Geographic)

While I've enjoyed learning about nature all my life, I didn't become passionate about science until 2006 or so. In 2007 I read this, and it along with Dan Falk's Universe on a T-Shirt provided the introduction and foundation of my on-going zeal for science and its history.

4. Amusing Ourselves to Death and/or Technopoly: the Surrender of Culture to Technology, Neil Postman

These two books are on the short list of works which have changed my life. Both share a general theme in that they address the unexpected consequences of technology and forced me to think about the way I use certain media. Amusing Ourselves to Death deals primarily with television and its poisonous effect on politics, religion, education, and journalism, as all are hijacked by impulses toward sensationalist entertainment devoid of actual content.

5. The Demon-Haunted World, Carl Sagan

This staple of critical-thinking advocates stresses the importance of both science education in a world increasingly dependent on technology, and scientific thinking in general. Learning to think, to reason independently of any authority or tradition, is crucially important for individuals and society, as our freedom and strength depend on our ability to make good choices based on solid facts.

6. A Guide to the Good Life: the Ancient Art of Stoic Joy (William Irvine), The Emperor's Handbook (Marcus Aurelius, trans. David and Scott Hicks), or The Art of Living (Sharon Lebell)

While I reccommend philosophical reflection in general to everyone, one philosophical school in particular has proven a boon to me: Stoicism, which is enjoying a curious modern rebirth. Don't believe me? Edmund Kern penned The Wisdom of Harry Potter a few years ago and identifies Harry as a Stoic hero. Stoicism is an ancient school of Greek philosophy which focused on virtue as the sole good in life, and emphasized developing strength of character and offers freedom from the petty disturbances of life. I like to call it Buddhism for the western world. Of the books listed: the first is an introduction to the philosophy for modern minds, the second is a contemporary translation of Marcus Aurelius' Meditations, a primary source for Stoics, and the third is an interpretation of Epictetus' Handbook, which sold me on the school to begin with.

7. The Age of Absurdity: Why Modern Life Makes it Hard to be Happy , Michael Foley

I read this book twice last year; it's that good. Its essential premise is that we've created societies which not only fail to meet our needs as human beings, but often run counter to them. For instance, how do we find time for detachment and reflection when an ever-increasing number of gadgets vie for our attention?

8. A People's History of America, Howard Zinn

Imagine a history written from the perspective of the powerless, the losers. That's what Howard Zinn provided, and his narrative prompts readers to not only reconsider traditional versions of history, but to consider that the power to effect change lies not in the hands of Great Men, but in themselves. It is both history and a call to political activism much needed in these days.

9. In Praise of Slowness, Carl Honore

This is one I intend on re-reading soon..

In Praise of Slowness is a book that incorporates simple living, New Urbanism, and the philosophical life into its text. I will summarize as it as being written to make human lives human and livable once more. Where our way of life has reduced us to living passively, consuming unthinkingly, and bouncing from one task to the next without ever really enjoying anything, Slowness asserts that we should slow down and think about what it is we’re doing.

10. A Life of Her Own, Emile Carles.

This was required reading for a European history class I took a few years ago, and I responded with it with such enthusiasm that I think I made my professor uncomfortable by gushing with thanks. It's the biography of a French peasant woman who, despite her highly isolated and conservative environment in an alpine farming village, matures into an independent thinker whose political passions are formed in the early years of the 20th century. Reading this not only encouraged me -- if she could flourish despite that environment, anyone can -- but it added significantly to my understanding of political philosophy.

11. The Geography of Nowhere, James Howard Kunstler

Were this list written just for American readers, I would have mentioned the Stoic books along with The Consolations of Philosophy, for The Geography of Nowhere is a must-read for American readers. In it, Kunstler attacks the land-use patterns of cheap oil (surburbanization and urban sprawl), decrying them as not only wasteful and doomed to extinction, but physically and spiritually degrading. It's become one of my favorite books, which sounds odd if you haven't read Kunstler; his history is enlightening and his sharp criticism a joy to read.

The Positronic Man

2012-01-13T18:49:00.000-06:00

The Positronic Man
© 1993 Isaac Asimov and Robert Silverberg
290 pages

This novel takes me back to high school, where at some point following the release of The Bicentennial Man starring Robin Williams, I checked it out and read my very first Asimov. I'd watched enough Star Trek to know that 'positronic' meant that this was about an android, and thought perhaps the movie was based on it. My guess was right: The Positronic Man is an expansion of Asimov's short story, "The Bicentennial Man", just as Nightfall is an Asimov-Silverberg expansion of "Nightfall". The tale of Andrew Martin, the robot who wanted to become a man, is one of my favorite Asimov stories. Data from The Next Generation may have predisposed me to being fascinated with the book's theme -- what does it mean to be a human, to be sentient?

After having read Silverberg and Asimov's expansion of "Nightfall", I cannot read the original story without missing the additional content. It seems like only half a story. The Positronic Man is more conservative on that count, starting and ending at the same points as Asimov's original story. That can scarcely be avoided, as much of the original story took place in the form of a flashback, as Andrew -- preparing for a surgery that will constitute the 'final' leap and give him either the humanity he desires or the welcome release of death -- recounts how he came to be such an usual creature, the being who is far more a robot and yet, not quite a man. The Positronic Man greatly enriches the experience; events which are summarized in a sentence or two in the original story unfold over the course of a chapter, allowing for a great deal more characterization, both on Andrew's part and his human companions This isn't simply a 'lengthier' version of " Bicentennial Man": the additions, which flow so well from the original text, allow Andrew to truly evolve throughout the course of the book: he matures before our eyes as a character, not just as a robot who abandons metal coverings for pseudo-skin or gains legal standing. The polite, metallic servant introduced in the first chapter slowly grows into a thoughtful man, accomplished in multiple artistic and intellectual fields, driven by the same impulses that motivate us all.

I enjoyed this work tremendously; while I don't know how much is Silverberg and how much is Asimov's, the result makes my favorite Asimov story even better.

This Week at the Library (11 January)

2012-01-11T08:21:00.001-06:00

Currently Reading: How the Mind Works, Steven Pinker; The Positronic Man, Isaac Asimov and Robert Silverberg; The Fabric of the Cosmos, Brian Greene (on hold until I finish How the Mind Works).

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"It's ridiculous, sir! Getting married."
"Women like it, Patrick."
"Why do they need us? Why don't they just do it and tell us afterwards. Christ!"

p. 313, Sharpe's Honour. Bernard Cornwell.

"Virtually nothing is known about the functioning microcircuity of the human brain, because there is a shortage of volunteers willing to give up their brains to science before they are dead."

p. 184, How the Mind Works. Steven Pinker.

You are a robot, Andrew reminded himself sternly.
You are a product of the United States Robots and Mechanical Men Corporation.
And then Andrew would look at Little Miss and a sensation of great joy and warmth would spread through his positronic brain -- a sensation that he had come to identify as 'love' -- and then he would have to remind himself, all over again, that he was nothing more than a cleverly designed structure of metal and plastic with an artificial platinum-iridium brain inside his chrome-steel skull, and he had no right to feel emotions, or to think paradoxical thoughts, or to do any other such complex and mysterious human being.

p. 51, The Positronic Man, Asimov and Silverberg.

Sharpe's Honour

2012-01-10T21:00:00.002-06:00

Sharpe's Honour
© 1985 Bernard Cornwell
320 pages

In Sharpe's Enemy, Richard Sharpe vanquished one foe only to create another, this time the subtle French intelligence officer Pierre Ducos. Ducos is an enemy both to England and Sharpe, for with one plan he manages to ensnare Sharpe in legal turmoil that may end in a death sentence, and begin the destruction of the Anglo-Spanish alliance which is driving the French army back across the Pyrenees. Sharpe's only hope is the possible help of a treacherous and dangerously attractive 'Marquesa'.

Without giving too much away, Sharpe spends most of the book in trouble as an escaped and condemned outlaw working behind enemy lines. The escape tests Sharpe's character several times, not just his resourcefulness; there are times when giving his parole or simply refusing to go one would make his life much easier, but Sharpe insists on making a fight of it.At the same time that Sharpe is engaged in a battle for his life, Wellington's army and the French are moving toward one of the most decisive altercations of the Peninsular War: the Campaign at Vitoria. Much of the battle takes place without our rifleman, but it wouldn't be a Sharpe novel without him making a dramatic entrance at a pivotal moment. The book is worth it just for the ending; being completely unfamiliar with the history of the Peninsular War, I flew into the book blind and didn't know what surprises Wellington had up his sleeve or what fate would await him.

Although I missed the usual running interaction between Sharpe and his men, Honour offers plenty of excitement and a thoroughly satisfying ending that lifts the pall remaining from Sharpe's Enemy's conclusion.

Next time: Sharpe's Regiment invades France!

Bowling Alone

2012-01-07T19:05:00.002-06:00

Bowling Alone: the Collapse and Revival of American Community
© 2001 Robert D. Putnam
544 pages

Every so often I read a book that strikes my brain as lightening, forever altering my thinking and earning a permanent place both on my bedside bookcase and on the tip of my tongue, for I will be thinking, talking, and writing about it from that point on. Bowling Alone is such a book. In it, Robert Putnam makes the case that America has experienced over a half-century of social decline -- decline that is universal, across all demographics and throughout the nation. He uses a concept called social capital, a representation of the strength of social ties between individuals and their networks; the more social capital a society has, the more cohesive it is and the better it functions as a human community in matters of health, safety, and problem solving.

He first charts a steady decline in social capital by using falling rates in civic organizations (like the Rotary Club), locally-organized political activity, religious participation, communal leisure activities, and other markers. Putnam then attempts to ascertain the causes of this steep decline, which seems inexplicable given that the baby boomer generation has reached the age where civic participation is at its greatest. He finds a variety of society-wide forces (increasing job and security pressure; suburbanization; the rise of television), but also notes a major generational influence. The most active civic generation in American history is dying off, but much of their strength comes (Putnam believes) from the unifying force of WWII. That war called upon the resources of the entire nation -- women in the workforce and children gathering scrap metal were just as important as the soldiers in the field. People didn't simply work together; they believed they were working together, and for a common goal. Putnam believes that this extended period of national solidarity cast a shadow over that generation's lives -- but the baby boomers and generation-Xers have had no such struggle. No one would think of the Vietnam War as bringing people together; indeed, it must stand out as one of the most divisive wars in American history.

In making his argument, Putnam is both exhaustive and conservative -- anticipating objections to his conclusions and answering them as a matter of course. He's also not quick to overestimate the influence of any one factor, when sometimes I thought such emphasis might be appropriate. Putnam then asks the question, "So what?" and examines the ways in which social capital is a boon to society and then the consequences of losing it. He then ends by offering several goals for American society to work forward to as a way of strengthening itself. My interest in this book stems from my interest in the 'human habitat' in general, and community is an essential part of that.

Bowling Alone is imminently worthy of consideration -- not just for the ideas it contains, but for the thorough manner that Putnam presents them. A small caveat; the book may be marginally dated given the rise of social networking sites. While Putnam does address online communities, facebook and similar creatures are altogether different from usenet groups and static websites -- and although they're scarcely a replacement for what we've lost, certainly they're a factor that would need to be considered if this book were published today. For my own part, I am resolutely committed to doing my part to live my life in connection with other people.

Highly recommended.

Related:

The Geography of Nowhere, James Howard Kunstler

The Son of Neptune

2012-01-06T11:21:00.000-06:00

The Heroes of Olympus, Volume II: The Son of Neptune
© 2011 Rick Riordan
521 pages

In The Lost Hero, Rick Riordan introduced another epic battle between the gods, forcing three young demigods to free Hera from imprisonment and forestall the awakening of Gaea and her Giants -- but without their leader, Percy Jackson. The 'lost hero' returns to the story in The Son of Neptune, robbed of most of his memory and under constant attack by monsters until he finds refuge in a camp of demigods...named Camp Jupiter.

This is no small camp of half-bloods; Camp Jupiter is a bonafide city styled on Rome, where its illustrious history and mythology live on. These campers are born of the gods' Roman personalities and they regard their rumored Greek relations with contempt. Beset on every side by monsters and without their own leader, they regard the unexpected arrival of Percy with suspicion. But Hera -- Juno -- has a plan, and Percy must play a part in it together with two new characters, both with mysterious pasts they would prefer to hide. The trio are given a quest -- to travel beyond the reach of the gods, to a place where no demigod has returned from alive before....Alaska. There they must free Death from the clutches of one of Gaea's giants, because no one is staying in the Underworld like they should and it's causing quite a bit of confusion.

I welcomed the return of Percy and couldn't wait to read this book, eager to see how Riordan developed the Roman camp. They're far different beyond referring to the gods by different names; the Romans are populous enough to live in a large city defended by legions of demigods and their descendants, governed by a senate. They are organized, energetic, and militant. I delighted seeing little nods to both history and mythology. For instance, Percy is forced to join a disgraced legion which lost its eagle in the artic hinterlands years ago, under the leadership of a man named...Varus. One of Riordan's new heroes (Frank Zhang) gives him the opportunity to create a character with a fascinating backstory out of a possible Romano-Chinese connection in history, a 'lost legion'. The Son of Neptune is the "end of the beginning" for Riordan's new series: now Juno's plan to unite the camps is laid out in full, for only together -- and with the gods -- can they triumph over the ancient and wrathful earth-goddess by marching on the Doors of Death. I took for granted that the heroes would triumph in this little adventure -- surely they must live on to fulfill the Prophecy of Seven introduced in the original series. It wasn't quite as novel as The Lost Hero given that the reader has already learned most of the mystery by this point, but I still enjoyed the Roman aspects and dramatic tension which is building in the series. The next book, the Mark of Athena, will unite the seven properly, and I'm excited to see where they're going...for the next battle will be fought not in America, but in the home of the gods....Greece.

The Week at the Library (4 January)

2012-01-04T18:43:00.001-06:00

Pending Review(s): Bowling Alone: the Collapse and Revival of American Community, Robert Putnam.
Currently Reading: The Son of Neptune; Rick Riordian; The Fabric of the Cosmos, Brian Greene (on hold until next week)
Potentials: How the Mind Works, Stephen Pinker

This blog started out as a weekly affair until I switched to individual book reviews, and since then I've been trying to work with the weekly post and make it purposeful, but not redundant. In addition to the info above, I'll also be including quotations I would have otherwise scribbled down in my journal or posted to my facebook wall -- funny bits of diaogue, deliciously rich exposition, or thought-provoking passages.

=============T=H=E===W=E=E=K===I=N===Q=U=O=T=E=S===========

"We did it, we bashed them, wee Potter's the one
And Voldy's gone moldy, so now let's have fun!"
"Really gives a feeling for the scope and tragedy of the thing, doesn't it?"

p. 746, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Finally finished up my Harry Potter Christmastime Re-Read!

The reason there are no humanlike robots is not that the very idea of a mechanical mind is misguided. It is that the engineering problems that we humans solve as we see and walk and plan and make it through the day are far more challenging than landing on the moon or sequencing the human genome.Nature, once gain, has found ingenious solutions that human engineers cannot yet duplicate. When Hamlet says "What a piece of work is man! how noble in reason! How infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable!" we should direct our awe not at Shakespeare or Mozart or Einstein or Kareem Abdul-Jabbar but at a four-year old carrying out a request to put a toy on a shelf.

p. 4, How the Mind Works. Stephen Pinker.

British political philosopher John Stuart Mill lauded the effects of participatory democracy on character. Without shared participation in public life, Mill wrote, a citizen "never thinks of any collective interest, of any objects to be pursued jointly with others but only in competition with them, and in some measure at their expense...A neighbor, not being an ally or an associate, since he is never engaged in any common undertaking for joint benefit, is therefore, only a rival." The engaged citizen, by contrast, 'is called upon...to weight interests not his own; to be guided, in case of conflicting claims, by another rule other than his own private partialities....He is made to feel himself one of the public, and whatever is for their benefit to be for his benefit."

p. 337, Bowling Alone

TV-based politics is to political action as watching ER is to saving someone in distress. Just as one cannot restart a heart with one's remote control, one cannot jump-start republican citizenship without direct, face-to-face participation. Citizenship is not a spectator sport."

p. 341, Bowling Alone

The Best of 2011: Annual Year in Review

2012-01-01T19:48:00.000-06:00

Previous yearly wrap-ups: 2007 | 2008 | 2009 | 2010

Ever since I began blogging about books in May 2007, I've taken time in early January to reflect on the previous year of reading. There are always stand-out books I like to spotlight, and trends to mull over.

Using ChartGo.com, I broke my reading down into the main genres I visit, excluding miscellaneous works. Last year I commented with some wariness that for the first time ever, fiction had surpassed nonfiction reading. It accomplished the same feat this year, and by a larger margin. I blame Bernard Cornwell. Discovering the police mysteries of Michael Connelly also helped, as I've read more than a few Harry Bosch mysteries this year.

Early in the year I resolved to read ten particular books, most of which had given me trouble in the past; I'm happy to say I read nine of those. I was also able to maintain my 'bookish resolutions'for the most part. An undeclared goal was that of finishing Isaac Asimov's Empire series, which I did.

And now...the best reads of 2011!

In general fiction, there were some truly outstanding novels:

The Sea-Wolf by Jack London combines adventure at sea with an epic story-discussion about morality, the meaning of life, and the measure of a man when a literary critic is kidnapped and forced to serve on a sealing schooner dominated by a brute who fancies himself a Nietzschean superman.
To Kill a Mockingbird is, "classic" status aside, simply one of the best novels I've ever read. This coming of age story set in Depression-era Alabama features two young people who are forced to grapple with adult questions of conscience and courage during a legal battle. They are guided by their extraordinary father Atticus Finch.
The Big Rock Candy Mountain by Wallace Stegner is a beautiful, wild, wrenching story about a restless man who drags his family through peril and poverty looking for financial success.Though the man Bo is never a viewpoint character, he dominates the book and its central characters with his admirable energy and sometimes destructive passion. Even months after reading it, I simply can't get over the novel.
The Ethical Assassin by David Liss is an altogether different experience than these prior three. It isn't grand or profound, but quirky and provocative. At first glance it might come off as merely a whimsical novel, but the fascinating interplay between the titular assassin and the main character should stir the minds of readers.

Historical fiction proved to be a mainstay this year. Last year its success was based on two series (Horatio Hornblower and the Saxon Stories), but in 2011 Bernard Cornwell's Sharpe novels swept the field. Sharpe is a stand-out action hero, almost legendary, but so much more attracts me to the series -- the way Cornwell brings the world the early of the 19th century so utterly alive, the relationships between the characters, and oh...that wit. Almost every week I share a quotation from a Sharpe novel on my facebook wall because they're just too good to keep to myself.

‎"What I don't understand," Sharpe persevered, "is why she ran away."
"She's probably in love," Hogan explained airily. "Nineteen-year-old girls of respectable families are dangerously susceptible to love because of all the novels they read."
(Sharpe's Havoc)

It's terribly hard to choose between the Sharpe novels, but the three most memorable --

Sharpe's Prey, in which Sharpe plays the part of spy during the British siege of Copenhagen.
Sharpe's Fortress, involving an unintentionally hilarious villain and a fantastic ending.
Sharpe's Fury is another "Sharpe alone behind enemy lines" story, which I seem to like best of all.

I did read historical fiction outside of Sharpe, though:

The Revolutionist is down as one of my ten favorite books this year. It's the story of Alexander Til, a Russian-American immigrant who returns to his homeland following the collapse of the tsar and the rise of the Bolsheviks. Til is a believer in the cause of the people -- not the state, which gets him into trouble when the new Soviet state turns out to be just as vicious as the old empire. What follows is an intense thriller set during the opening decades of Lenin and Stalin's reign.

Other notable works included Bernard Cornwell's The Fort, Bernard Cornwell's Gallows Thief, and Bernard Cornwell's -- look, I can't help that the man writes brilliant books. His heroes are fantastic, his villains loathsome, his supporting characters often hilarious, and the relationships between characters done to a T. Combine that with the plots and the man can't be beaten.

Bernard Cornwell, Author of the Year

It just can't be helped. Moving on --

Last year I jumped back into Star Trek literature and had intended to keep up with new releases throughout the year, but my ability to do so flagged over the summer. And yet, it's one of the stronger categories. Good heavens. I enjoyed the Vanguard series as a whole, but the big standout is Christopher L. Bennett's Over a Torrent Sea.

Outside of Star Trek I read a fair bit of science fiction, mostly in finishing Asimov's Empire series. Joe Haldeman's The Accidental Time Machine is definitely worth mentioning, but as far as SF goes I liked The Currents of Space and The Gods Themselves the best.

History is of course my staple, and this year saw me return to Will Durant's Story of Civilization series, along with knocking out volume one of H.G. Well's The Outline of History. My library doesn't have volume II, hence why I've never finished it. The Age of Faith stymied my progress last year, and it took me three attempts to tackle it properly, but once I did it proved to be my favorite of the series. Other fantastic books:

With Wings Like Eagles: A History of the Battle of Britain, Michael Korda
To End all Wars: A Story of Loyalty and Rebellion, Adam Hochschild; a history of WW1 which focuses on those who resisted it.
Electric Universe: the Shocking True Story of Electricity, David Bodanis. A strangely captivating history of electricity, which introduced me to one of the best stories of WWII: Operation Biting. How can you not want to read about a scientist who trains as a paratrooper to steal a high-tech radar assembly and who is rescued by lost Scottish highlanders?

And though I'm hopelessly biased, I won't go without mentioning Montevallo: Images of America, a pictorial history of my beloved university town.

The numbers lie: this was a slow year for science, a year which I propped up with books of essays by Asimov and a few "made simple" works. As it happens I'm in the middle of a substantial science read, but it won't be finished until 2012, I'm afraid. Marlene Zuke's Sex on Six Legs and the BBC's Walking with Dinosaurs were high notes, though. The best would be Jared Diamond's The Third Chimpanzee, which I sort of forgot to review, because I'm a boob.

Religion-wise, I read a few books on the Catholic and Anglican churches as part of my ongoing cultural literacy goal; Why Do Catholics Do That? was a stellar introduction. Early in the year I enjoyed Robert Wright's The Evolution of God, a naturalistic approach to the development and growth of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.

Philosophy and social criticism are related subjects for me, so I shall mention them together. While the Dhammapada was enjoyable, and Michael Pollan's food books were fairly eye-opening (even if they had to be taken with a grain of salt given his anti-scientific slant), the undisputed king this year was Michael Foley's The Age of Absurdity: Why Modern Life Makes it Hard to Be Happy. I read it early last year but just couldn't do it justice in a review, so I read it again in November and tried afresh. KunstlerCast is a close second: I yelped in surprise to see it listed on Amazon and was positively delighted when I won it from LibraryThing. I listen to the podcast every week, you see, and practically swear by Kunstler's Geography of Nowhere, so this print version of the conversations Kunstler and his cohost have on suburban sprawl, urban planning, and the global oil economy was right up my alley.

This year marked the first time I've read books relating to health and/or nutrition: The Complete Guide to Walking for Health, Weight loss and Fitness and The Beginning Runner's Handbook are both excellent.

As for next year....I predict that historical fiction will make another strong showing, because I'm not quite done with the Sharpe series yet. I'll be continuing in the Story of Civilization series with The Age of Louis XIV at some point. There are still a fair few Trek lit books I'm just waiting to read, but science books are going take priority when it comes to new acquisitions. I also intend on visiting the nonfiction works of Alison Weir, whose novels I've enjoyed so much. If I read Asimov's End of Eternity, I'll be in the awkward position of having read all of his best-known work, save perhaps the collection I, Robot. After that it's just...short story and essay collections for the most part.

2011 Cumulative Reading List

2011-12-31T20:45:00.002-06:00

Earlier in the year I took advantage of blogger's "pages" function to keep a running list of everything I've read, since the blog's own index tends to become cluttered. Tomorrow the page shall be wiped clean in preparation for 2012, but here for posterity is the list, updated for the final time only moments ago. There are three books on the list still in need of reviewing, and I fully intended to accomplish that today, but it was a nice day and I spend it outside, reading and dozing in the sun. You can't blame me for that, can you?

I regard the bolded entries as particularly superior accomplishments. Also note, this is not my annual "year in review" post. That should come sometime this next week, though.

-- January --
1. In a Sunburned Country, Bill Bryson
2. Reunion, Michael Jan Friedman (Fiction)
3. The Evolution of God, Robert Wright
4. To End All Wars, Adam Hochschild
5. Redcoat, Bernard Cornwell (Fiction)
6. Sex on Six Legs, Marlene Zuke
7. The Black Echo, Michael Connelly (Fiction)
8. The Rise and Fall of the Bible, Timothy Beal.
9. A Far Better Rest, Susanne Alleyn (Fiction)
10. The Age of Absurdity: Why Modern Life Makes it Hard to be Happy, Michael Foley.
11. Beyond Band of Brothers: the War Memoirs of Major Dick Winters, Dick Winters
12. Electric Universe: The Shocking True Story of Electricity, David Bodanis
13. 50 Jobs in 50 States, Daniel Seddiqui

-- February --
14. Star Trek Titan: Sword of Damocles, Geoffrey Thorne. (Fiction)
15. Star Trek Vanguard: Harbinger, David Mack (Fiction)
16. Agincourt, Bernard Cornwell (Fiction)
17. Star Trek Vanguard: Summon the Thunder, Dayton Ward and Kevin Dilmore (Fiction)
18. Overlook, Michael Connelly (Fiction)
19. The Near East, Isaac Asimov
20. Star Trek Titan: Over a Torrent Sea, Christopher L. Bennett (Fiction)
21. A History of Life on Earth, Jon Erickson
22. The Revolutionist, Robert Littell (Fiction)
23. The Outline of History, Volume I, H.G. Wells.
24. Paths of Disharmony, Dayton Ward (Fiction)
25. With Wings Like Eagles, Michael Korda

-- March --
26. The History of Japan, Kenneth Scott Latourette
27. The Fort, Bernard Cornwell (Fiction)
28. Confessions, Augustine of Hippo
29. Reap the Whirlwind, David Mack (Fiction)
30. The Fall of Terok Nor, Judith and Garfield Reeves-Stevens (Fiction)
31. The War of the Prophets, Judith and Garfield Reeves-Stevens (Fiction)
32. Inferno, Judith and Garfield Reeves-Stevens (Fiction)
33. A Man in Full, Tom Wolfe (Fiction)
34. Then Everything Changed, Jeff Greenfield
35. The Forgotten 500, Gregory Freeman
36. You Can't Be Neutral on a Moving Train, Howard Zinn
37. Bomber, Len Deighton

-- April --
38. Gallows Thief, Bernard Cornwell (Fiction)
39. What Catholics Really Believe, Karl Keating
40. Echo Park, Michael Connelly (Fiction)
41. The Archer's Tale, Bernard Cornwell (Fiction)
42. Star Trek Vanguard: Open Secrets, Dayton Ward (Fiction)
43. The Heart and the Fist, Eric Greitens
44. Why Do Catholics Do That?, Kevin Orlin Johnson
45. The Stars, Like Dust, Isaac Asimov (Fiction)
46. The Book of Wisdom, New English Bible
47. Disaster 1906: The San Francisco Earthquake and Fire, Edward F. Dolan Jr.
48. The Accidental Time Machine, Joe Haldeman (Fiction)
49. Ecclesiasticus, New English Bible
50. Sharpe's Rifles, Bernard Cornwell (Fiction)

-- May --
51. The Tragedy of the Moon, Isaac Asimov
52. The Coming, Joe Haldeman (Fiction)
53. The Book of Tobit, New English Bible
54. The Undiscovered Country, J.M.Dillard (Fiction)
55. City of Bones, Michael Connelly (Fiction)
56. Guns, Ed McBain (Fiction)
57. The Sea-Wolf, Jack London (Fiction)
58. To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee (Fiction)
59. Earth Science Made Simple, Edward Albins
60. Cave Paintings to Picasso, Henry Sayre
61. Sharpe's Tiger, Bernard Cornwell (Fiction)
62. The Ethical Assassin, David Liss (Fiction)
63. Angels and Demons, Dan Brown (Horrible, Horrible Fiction)

--June--
64. Star Trek Vanguard: Precipice, David Mack (Fiction)
65. Montevallo: Images of America, Clark Hultquist and Carey Heatherly
66. All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten, Robert Fulghum
67. The Omnivore's Dilemma, Michael Pollan
68. Sharpe's Triumph, Bernard Cornwell (Fiction)
69. Biology Made Simple, Rita Mary King
70. The Currents of Space, Isaac Asimov (Fiction)
71. Cop Hater, Ed McBain (fiction)
72. Sharpe's Fortress, Bernard Cornwell (fiction)
73. God is not One, Stephen Prothero
74. The Final Storm, Jeff Shaara (fiction)

--July--
75. Sharpe's Trafalgar, Bernard Cornwell (fiction)
76. Sharpe's Prey, Bernard Cornwell (fiction)
77. Robots and Empire, Isaac Asimov (fiction)
78. An Altar in the World, Barbara Brown Taylor
79. Diary of a Wimpy Kid #2: Rodrick Rules, Jeff Kinney
80. Why Choose the Episcopal Church, John M. Krumm (fiction)
81. Judge and Jury, James Patterson (fiction)
82. Honeymoon, James Patterson (fiction)
83. The Big Switch, Harry Turtledove (fiction)
84. The Third Chimpanzee, Jared Diamond
85. Diary of a Wimpy Kid #1, Jeff Kinney

--August--
86. Star Trek Titan: Synthesis, James Swallow (fiction)
87. Seven Ages of Paris, Alistair Horne
88. Covert, Bob Delaney
89. Gospel Medicine, Barbara Brown Taylor
90. Isaac Asimov's Caliban, Roger MacBride Allen (fiction)
91. The Age of Faith, Will Durant
92. The Gods Themselves, Isaac Asimov (fiction)
93. The Big Rock Candy Mountain, Wallace Stegner (fiction)

--September--

94. Astronomy Made Simple, Kevin B. Marvel
95. The Feather Merchants, Max Shulman (fiction)
96. The Illiad, translated by Barbara Leonie Picard
97. Your Faith, Your Life: An Invitation to the Episcopal Church, Jennifer Gamber and Bill Lewellison
98. The Renaissance, Will Durant
99. Sharpe's Gold, Bernard Cornwell (fiction)
100. Marcus Aurelius: A Life, Frank McLynn
101. Discourses, Epictetus
102. The Tales of Beedle the Bard, J.K. Rowling (fiction)
103. Dhammapada, trans. Max Mueller, annotated by Jack MacGuire
104. The Red Pyramid, Rick Riordian (fiction)
105. Sharpe's Escape, Bernard Cornwell (fiction)
106. Walking with Dinosaurs, Tim Haines

--October--

107. The Reformation, Will Durant
108. The Union Club Mysteries, Isaac Asimov (Fiction)
109. The Good German, Joseph Kanon (Fiction)
110. The Lost Hero, Rick Riordan (Fiction)
111. Pathways, Jeri Taylor (Fiction)
112. The Complete Guide to Walking for Health, Weight Loss, and Fitness; Mark Fenton
113. Sharpe's Fury, Bernard Cornwell (Fiction)
114. Active Living Every Day; Steven Blair, Andrew Dunn, Bess Marcus, Ruth Ann Carpenter, and Peter Jaret.

115. The Planet that Wasn't, Isaac Asimov
116. The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (fiction)
117. At Home in Mitford, Jan Karon (fiction)
118. The Beginning Runner's Handbook, Ian MacNeill and Doug Clement.
119. The Rapture Exposed: The Message of Hope in the Book of Revelation, Barbara Rossing
120. Clash of Wings: World War II in the Sky, Walter J. Boyne
121. Sharpe's Company, Bernard Cornwell (Fiction)
122. The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (fiction)

-- November --
123. The Astral, Kate Christensen (fiction)
124. Sharpe's Sword, Bernard Cornwell (fiction)
125. KunstlerCast: Conversations with James Howard Kunstler....the tragic comedy of surburban sprawl; Duncan Crary
126. The Greater Journey, David McCullough
127. Plain and Simple: A Woman's Journey to the Amish, Sue Bender
128. God Has a Dream, Desmond Tutu
129. The Crisis of Islam, Bernard Lewis
130. In Defense of Food, Michael Pollan
131. A Light in the Window, Jan Karon (fiction)
132. Timequake, Kurt Vonnegut (fiction)

--December--
133.Physics of the Future, Michio Kaku
134.Redwall, Brian Jacques (fiction)
135. Santa and Pete, Christopher Moore (fiction)
136. Bicycle Diaries, David Byrne
137. The City in Mind: Notes on the Urban Condition, James Howard Kunstler
138. Incognito: the Secret Lives of the Brain, David Eagleman
139. Open Your Heart with Bicycling: Mastering Life through the Love of the Road, Shawn B. Rohrbach
140. 11/22/63, Stephen King (fiction)
141. The Litigators, John Grisham (fiction)
142. Sharpe's Enemy, Bernard Cornwell (fiction)
143. Social Graces: Words of Wisdom on Civility in a Changing Society, ed. Jim Brosseau

Sharpe's Enemy

2011-12-30T10:25:00.000-06:00

Sharpe's Enemy: Richard Sharpe and the Defense of Portugal, Christmas 1812
© 1984 Bernard Cornwell
351 pages

It's Christmastime, but winter quarters don't exist for Richard Sharpe, our tall, scar-faced soldier-turned-officer with flint in his eyes. Deserters from the Spanish, Portuguese, British, and French armies have banded together and are terrorizing the countryside, causing considerable friction between the British army and the Spanish themselves. To make matters worse, the renegades have taken a number of royal ladies prisoner and are holding them hostage...and among the leaders of the renegades is Obadiah Hakeswill, a truly despicable creature whose main activities are rape, theft, and escape. Sharpe sets forth with his Rifles to rescue the hostages with a bit of derring-do, but bumps into the French army along the way -- and while they also intend to rescue their own hostages from Hakeswille, the Imperial troops also have other things in mind this Christmas season...

Sharpe's Enemy has all the elements that make for an excellent Sharpe novel -- the action is small in scale, but intense, with Sharpe and his rifles engaged in action first against a castle of blackguards and then an entire French army. The enemy is an old, familiar, and thoroughly hatable one. The only fictional character whose grisly death I've longed to read more than Hakeswill would be Dolores Umbridge from the Harry Potter novels. The stakes are high -- the lives of innocents and the potential progress of the allied army in 1813 -- and Sharpe has to contend with idiot aristocrats to boot. It is indeed a rollicking good read...but the ending spoiled things for me. What should have been a gloriously satisfying moment for Sharpe is ruined by late-game action, and that same action threw me off, as well. On the bright side, Cornwell introduced a French intelligence officer with a lot of potential -- and he's supposed to make an appearance in my next Sharpe read, Sharpe's Honour.

The Litigators

2011-12-29T09:05:00.000-06:00

The Litigators
© 2011 John Grisham
385 pages

The Litigators may be unique among John Grisham's work in that from the start, it's written as a comedy. The lead character (David Zinc) intoduces himself to the story by having a nervous breakdown on his way to work and taking refuge in a local bar, where he happily drinks the day away before stumbling into a seedy two-man firm of ambulance chasers and declaring that he'd like to be their new associate. His two new employers, Figg and Finley, border on the pathetic themselves: one is an on-again off-again drunk who can't stay out of rehab, and the other is on his fourth marriage and a fan of get-rich-quick schemes that always result in catastrophe. While they're not keen on taking on a new hire, one is about to engage the firm in a mass tort action. It seems there's a bad drug on the market, and every lawyer with an eye for the future is trying to get a piece of the pie by piling on. They could use a hand in getting their 'boutique firm' involved, and so Zinc becomes the third man in their unintentional comedy troupe.

Think of The Litigators as The King of Torts meets The Street Lawyer, delivered as a comedy of errors and peopled by two of the Three Stooges. Everything that can go wrong does: by mid-novel they're facing a perfect storm that promises disaster.The lead character is so fundamentally decent, though, that the reader is left wincing at the fact that the poor guy is facing a fate that is the legal equivalent of falling into a woodchipper. But the Litigators isn't simply the story of a horrifically-executed trial: Zinc finds perverse value in his new life, enjoying the fact that instead of slaving away in a corporate tower working in international finance, he's actually helping people...and so bizaarely, in a novel where the usual fate of Grisham's trials and heroes are reversed, the ending is unambiguous and (for me) satisfying. Look for it if you're in a mood for a quick and comedic read with some mild legal-thriller action thrown in.

11/22/63

2011-12-29T08:38:00.000-06:00

11/22/63
© 2011 Stephen King
849 pages

What would you do if you could walk through a door and into another world -- the land of ago, where it's always September 1958, where gas is cheap, root beer is creamy, and cars sport tailfins? Such was the opportunity English teacher Jake Epping accepted when his friend Al invited him into the pantry of his diner. For years, Al has known that there exists a curious fissure in spacetime there, one which allows people to pass from the present to 1958 as easily as descending a few steps. He's never revealed it before now, but he has something he wants to accomplish in the past -- something he can't do himself.

The mission, of course, is saving President Kennedy's life on 11/22/63 -- five years from the date that the fissure opens into. If Epping takes on the mission -- and he will, for personal reasons as well as to help his friend Al -- he will have to live at least five years of his life in the past, in a time without modern medicine and conveniences. But the past has its attractions, as well.

11/22/63 is a multistage novel; at first, Epping is drawn in by the extraordinary premise and the novelty of exploring the past. Before setting forth on his mission proper, he takes several jaunts into the past to explore how he might survival in this familiar-yet-alien world, and realizes that simple changes can have broad effects -- and the greater the effect of a potential change, the harder it will be to accomplish. The past is not a static canvas giving Epping free room to move: it is obdurate. It resists change, and the whole of the novel is haunted by the past's resiliency. Even when things seem to be going well, there's still anticipation that something is bound to go horrifically wrong. As Jake's mission begins in earnest, the novel becomes more a story about a man finding his place in a community. I haven't read much of King (The Stand, Christine, and Firestarter), but I wouldn't expect such emotional meat from an author who is known for horror and fantasy. King's characters seem real, to the point that I started googling at various intervals to see if they were historic personalities. As the fifties give way to the sixties, Jake's mission takes priority -- leading to the action which we've been building up to for hundreds of pages. I had no idea what to expect from the ending, but King delivers a stellar conclusion.

11/22/63 has, I think, displaced The Stand as my favorite King novel. It's as compelling a character drama as I've ever read, filled with little historical details that delighted a person fascinated with the period like myself -- and of course, driven by the tantalizing lure of being able to change the past. Definite recommendation. Had I participated in the Broke and the Bookish's most recent list (top ten books read in 2011), this would have have been on there.

The City in Mind

2011-12-29T08:23:00.000-06:00

The City in Mind: Notes on the Urban Condition
© 2001 James Howard Kunstler
272 pages

The study of civilization is nothing less than the study of the culture of cities. Humanity has survived on the Earth for hundreds of thousands of years, but not until we began to aggregate in cities did we truly come into our own. Cities have been the cultural centers of our race and the driving force of our history which unlocked our potential in the last ten thousand years or so, and in The City in Mind, James Howard Kunstler reflects on their role in our history and their contribution to the quality of our everyday lives, focusing on a panel of select cities that may allow us to see what makes a city work and what drives it towards failure.

In The Geography of Nowhere, Kunstler railed against the disintegration of the American city and the rise of what he sees as an imminently inferior form of urban living -- suburban sprawl. Although a couple of chapters here reflect that theme, the book is not as intensely focused. It reads something like a collection of essays, each giving the history of a given city's development and emphasizing one particular period or element. The opening chapter on Paris is devoted to Napoleon III and Hausmann's thoughtful redesign of Paris in the 19th century, for instance, and how it led to a fairly ugly medieval city's transformation into a jewel of urban design. Kunstler visits the classic spirit with Rome, and with Boston shows the reader how a city can recover from decades of thoughtless planning and sprawl. I bought this book in part because I delight in reading Kunstler when he's on a critical rampage, destroying atrocious buildings and miles of commercial strips and box stories with biting with -- and two chapters on Las Vegas and Atlanta give him just the excuse. Atlanta is used as a case-study for the failure of edge cities, while Vegas -- which Kunstler surely deems the worst city in America -- showcases a wide variety of failures, from the practical to the spiritual. Kunstler is not a religious man, but he sees proper urban design as something which enhances the value of life; when done properly, it honors us and creates a place worth living in.

The chapters mentioned are the book's strong points. There were other sections, like that on Mexico City, that I didn't quite understand the point of. Kunstler is informative there -- I'd known nothing about the history of the modern city following the Spanish conquest -- but to what urban design-related end. I had the same reaction to another chapter, possibly because I expected more sections along the lines of Paris and Las Vegas, chapters which clearly point out good and dismal approach at design, whereas Kunstler had a more general focus in mind. Some sections are available on Kunstler's website for your reading pleasure.

Top Ten Books I'd Like to See Under the Tree

2011-12-20T08:50:00.000-06:00

This week the Broke and the Bookish want to know what books we'd most like to receive for Christmas.

There's virtually no chance of my getting books for Christmas, because despite being from a family of readers, everyone claims they don't know what kind of books I'm liable to like. I consider this a silly claim given that I read almost everything (I even have a list of books I'd like!), but even my attempts at getting books indirectly -- by requesting bookstore giftcards -- have rendered nothing. I did have some success last year when, on my birthday, I asked that someone please give me cash so I could buy some used books online. I managed to buy three Star Trek novels with my birthday money.

But, if I lived in an alternate universe where people gave me books for Christmas, the ten I'd be most delighted to see under the tree would be...

1. The Tell-Tale Brain: A Neuroscientist's Quest for What Makes Us Human, V.S. Ramachandran. I almost bought this for myself last January, but went with three Trek books instead.

2. The Architecture of Community, Leon Krier OR The Death and Life of Great American Cities, Jane Jacobs.

3. On Desire: Why We Want What We Want, William Braxton Irvine. Ho, ho, I'm desiring a book on desire.

4. Star Trek Vanguard: What Judgments Come, Dayton Ward

5. In Praise of Idleness and other Essays, Bertrand Russell

6. Life Ascending: the Ten Great Inventions of Evolution, Nick Lane

7. The Long Summer: How Climate Changed Civilization, Brian M. Fagan.

8. The Long Emergency: Surviving the Converging Catastrophes of the 21st Century, James Howard Kunstler. Primarily about the consequences of peak oil.

9. The Pleasure of Finding Things Out: The Best Short Works of Richard P. Feynman. I've never read Feynman before, but the Symphony of Science series stirred my interest in both him and Neil deGrasse Tyson.

10. On Disobedience: Why Freedom Means Saying "No" To Power, Erich Fromm. I don't know what this one will be about, properly, but Fromm is a provocative author.

I would have included a book by Phil Plait (Death from the Skies or Bad Astronomy), but I think I'm going to buy one of those for my birthday this year. I'm trying to break myself of the habit of spending my leisure-book money on Trek instead of science and sociology books, which I think I should prioritize since my home library doesn't carry a lot of those.

Teaser Tuesday (20 December)

2011-12-20T08:06:00.000-06:00

Teaser Tuesday! Happy teasing and Merrie Yuletide/Solstice/Christmas!

"It sounds as though you've been trying to sew your skin back together," said Mrs. Weasley with a snort of mirthless laughter, "but even you, Arthur, wouldn't be that stupid --"

"I fancy a cup of tea, too," said Harry, jumping to his feet. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny almost sprinted to the door with him. As it swung closed behind them, they heard Mrs. Weasley shriek, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THAT'S THE GENERAL IDEA?"

p. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, p. 507. I'm doing a Christmastime re-read of the Harry Potter series.

For the first two-thirds of the twentieth century a powerful tide bore Americans into ever deeper engagement in the life of their communities, but a few decades ago -- silently, without warning -- that tide reversed, and we were overtaken by a treacherous rip current. Without at first noticing, we have been pulled apart from one another and from our communities over the last third of the century.

p. 27: Bowling Alone: the Collapse and Revival of American Community, Robert D. Putnam

And thank you to my nephew, who pointed out that I'd written today's date as 20 September for some reason.

Bicycle Diaries

2011-12-19T13:19:00.001-06:00

Bicycle Diaries
© 2009 David Byrne
297 pages

Though I've never heard of the musician and visual artist David Bryne before, his recollections of time spent in some of the world's greatest cities had my attention from the start -- for he experienced them on the saddle of a bike, bringing a fold-up bicycle with him as part of his luggage. The bicycle allows him to explore cities more intimately than from a car, but more quickly than on foot -- and while he cycles through Berlin, Istanbul, London, Buenos Aires, he ponders on subjects which they inspire.

As enjoyable as Byrne's work is, I'm hard-pressed to summarize it in any meaningful way, for every city inspires musing on different matters. He begins with a fantastic critique of American cities that is right out of The Geography of Nowhere: I posted a selection here. In Buenos Aires, he writes about the local music scene: in Berlin, a visit to the Stasi museum prompts an essay about justification and human nature. Thoughts on biking bookend the text; his final section on New York focuses mainly on its attempts to become a more bike-friendly city, and the epilogue addresses the bicycle's potentially expanding role in the future as energy crises force us to make more intelligent decisions about where we live and how we get around. These and the opening section on American cities made the book for me.

Cities featured are Berlin, Istanbul, Buenos Aires, Manila, Sydney, London, San Francisco, and New York.

Incognito

2011-12-19T11:23:00.000-06:00

Incognito: the Secret Lives of the Brain
© 2011 David Eagleman
304 pages

Carl Sagan once described astronomy as a 'profoundly humbling experience', for it allows us to appreciate how infinitesimally small Earth -- and ourselves --are in relation to the size of the Cosmos. David Eagleman sees neurology in very much the same way, and even uses Copernicus and Galileo as his models in introducing the study of the brain to lay readers. While those two astronomers unseated the heavens by helping people to realize Earth is not the center of the universe, neurology makes us realize we are not the center of ourselves. The conscience self is a very small part of an incredibly intricate and surprisingly autonomous brain.

The brain has always fascinated me. While those of us raised in the west are typically taught to take for granted that there is a separate, inviolable "I"-- a true Self, a soul -- residing in us, aspects of that "self", like our personality, have been proven to be tied to the ordinary grey matter of the brain and its millions of firing synapses. And from another angle -- that of philosophy or religion -- we seem to have not one Self, but multiple selves, each with its own ideas. Our brains produce thoughts completely without our input: are "we" really in control? I'm reminded of a line from the Christian writer Paul: "I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do." But while Paul decided that he was a man possessed by sin, neurology can shed more light on the subject. Eagleman describes our brains as a 'team of rivals', an organ which has preserved several different evolutionary approaches to solving the same problem -- and while this allows us to be fundamentally creative creatures, it leads to self-conflict, self-conflict that requires that which we call consciousness. That small, minute portion of our brain can make important decisions, but it is rather like the CEO at the head of an international company -- a crucial, but overwhelmingly minor part. The vast majority of our body's and our brain's activity is completely concealed from us, and Eagleman's examples -- written for a lay audience - -should astonish those completely new to the subject. I have a hearty appreciation for the subject matter (having read V.S. Ramachandran's Phantoms in the Brain), but found Incognito a fun reminder.

Incognito is open to all readers, though those who are more versed in the subject matter (readers of Ramachandran, Daniel Dennett, and Stephen Pinker, say) may find it a bit light in content.

Redwall

2011-12-15T08:13:00.002-06:00

Redwall
© 1986 Brian Jacques
351 pages

At the edge of a great wood there stands a tall, red-brick abbey that offers peace, medicine, food, and sanctuary to call creatures in need. Its name is Redwall...and it is run by a quasi-religious order of mice.

Many years ago my home librarian brought this book to me and reccommended that I read it. I found it utterly captivating. I'd never read fantasy before, never developing a taste for magic and strange creatures -- but this was a different kind of fantasy, one in which real creatures simply took the place of human characters in a story that seemed positively epic to a younger reader such as myself. I'd only ever read books with simple plots before, but Redwall sported multiple stories: while the central conflict is one of good versus evil, with a great army of vermin (literal vermin -- rats, stoats, and weasels) arriving in hopes of conquering Mossflower, the lead character Matthias is sent on a hero's quest, to find the lost sword of a legendary figure from Redwall's past so that he might destroy Cluny the Scourge. His quest involves many dangers and distractions, comprising a series of perilous adventures, and Jacques tells that story while at the same time reporting on the siege of the abbey -- a siege fought with quasi-medieval weaponry, which should seem silly but works surprisingly well. It's as though this is set in the medieval-fantasy world of the Lord of the Rings, but using animal characters like moles who can dig tunnels in addition to wielding spears. Redwall inspired an entire series of novels set in this world and has a highly loyal fanbase who have taken to Jacques' characters with such gusto that they can have entire conversations in the dialects of his characters. I err, know from personal experience.

Redwall is an interesting literary experience, a mix of the mundane and fantastic, with lots of fun characters and an easy-to-loathe villain. Although some of the magic has worn off since my childhood, I enjoyed my little return to Redwall Abby this Christmas season.

Related: XKCD did a comic entitled "Notes on Rereading Redwall Books for the First Time Since Childhood" I rather like.

Related:
Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NiMH, Robert C. O'Brien

Five Bookish Questions

2011-12-14T19:23:00.000-06:00

Kelly of the Broke and the Bookish shared a quick book survey tonight, and I figured, why not?

1. The book I'm currently reading is Incognito: the Secret Lives of the Brain, by David Eagleman, which covers neurology and the subsconscious. It's probably one of the most fascinating books I've read this year, which is not surprising given my interest in the subject. The author and I definitely like reading the same guys: he's already quoted V.S. Ramachandran, whose "Phantoms in the Brain" absolutely astonished me, and Michael Shermer, who some may recognize as the author of Why People Believe Weird Things.

2.The last book I finished was...The City in Mind: Notes on the Urban Condition, by James Howard Kunstler, although perhaps I should mention Bicycle Diaries by David Byrne since I think I skipped a page or two of the Kunstler book. I was reading while being forced to listen to someone talk on the phone, and my attention wasn't quote focused.

3.The next book I want to read would be Bowling Alone: the Collapse and Revival of American Community, by Robert Putnam. Before I lived in a university town, I'd never experienced how enriching living in an actual, healthy, human-sized community could be; I grew up living outside of town, and viewed it as a place we 'went to', not a place we lived in. After having graduated and moved back to my hometown for the time being, I found I missed the constant interaction with neighbors and fellow townspeople, so I've been actively engaging myself in the local community and reflecting on how we've become isolated from one another in the last decades of the 20th century, despite the rise of connective technology like iphones and interstates.

4.The last book I bought would be Bowling Alone, though I purchased it and The City in Mind within a day of one another.

5.The last book I was given was 2000 Years of Prayer, edited by Michael Counsell, which contains a huge variety of Christian prayers, beginning with those mentioned in the Christian New Testament and including prayers from most every branch of Christianity. It's a fascinating resource for seeing the diversity and growth of Christianity through the centuries. The gift has strong sentimental value for me because the giver -- a new friend of mine who happens to be the associate rector at a local church -- was given a copy of this book by her parents when she attended seminary, so I know she's sharing something profoundly meaningful to her. She thought I would appreciate it given my interests in history, philosophy, and comparative religion, and she was right.

Santa and Pete

2011-12-13T13:34:00.002-06:00

Santa and Pete: A Novel of Christmas Present and Past
© 1998 Christopher Moore and Pamela Johnson
176 pages

Seven year-old Terrence has no interest in spending his Saturdays keeping his elderly grandfather company while the older man runs his bus route.Who wants to be cooped up on a bus listening to an old man's stories when he could be outside playing? And the stories don't even make sense; they're about a place called New Amsterdam, a place grandpa seems to see when he looks out the window and sees New York. Instead of skyscrapers and apartment complexes, Terrence's grandfather acts as though he lives in a 17th century harbor town, where immigrants throughout Europe and Africa lived together and tried to make a world for themselves. Terrence can't help but notice the way passengers respond to the stories, though -- they lean forward, eyes bright, minds captivated by the way their driver can connect them with the past. And one snowy Christmas eve, when the bus breaks down in a blizzard, they are forced to wait -- but in the meantime, break out snacks from their shopping and hunker down while they're told the story of a man named St. Nicholas and his good friend Pete.

The story is set in a Christmas long ago, when Nicholas and his friend Peter traveled from the Netherlands to the New World, after hearing that the children there were in distress. They find the town (New Amsterdam) enduring a poor harvest, a harsh winter, and on the verge of war with the natives. This being a Christmas story, Nicholas and Pete bring hope, peace, and friendship to the town and its perceived foes. Author Christopher Moore (not of Lamb fame) has produced a story that is a fascinating mix of fantasy, legend, and mythic history. I doubt many Americans are familar with the Dutch Christmas mythos, in which St. Nicholas arrives in town accompanied not by elves, but by a black man of Moorish descent named Piet -- or multiple black men. David Sedaris wrote about Christmas in Holland in the sketch, "Six to Eight Black Men". Although Sedaris revels in the absurdest aspects of the legend, here Moore presents the story of the two men in all seriousness. Their close friendship in a time of ethnic conflict should speak to American audiences, and despite playing fast and loose with both history and convention myth, the story itself is a charmer.

Teaser Tuesday (13 December)

2011-12-12T21:16:00.000-06:00

Teaser Tuesday!

You're not perceiving what's out there. You're perceiving whatever your brain tells you.

Incognito: the Secret Lives of the Brain, David Eagleman. p. 33. This is a fascinating little about about neurology and the subconscious.

They say that Antarctica is the worst place on earth, but I believe that distinction belongs to Las Vegas, hands down. For one thing, Antarctica is more pleasing to look at.

The City in Mind: Notes on the Urban Condition, James Howard Kunstler. p.142

This Week at the Library (9 December)

2011-12-08T07:59:00.003-06:00

This being the Christmas season, I'm currently in the middle of a Harry Potter re-read. This is not a tradition, though it may become one: in 2007 I re-read the entire series during Christmas break after I'd returned home from university, and for whatever reason the Christmas season strikes me as an appropriate time to revisit the series. Perhaps it is the magic of the season. In any case, my desktop wallpaper is also of Harry, Hermione, and Ron sitting in the Griffyndor common room, dressed for winter. At the moment I am halfway through Goblet of Fire, and Harry is stressing out over who to invite to the Yule Ball.

For serious reading, I'm halfway into The Fabric of the Cosmos by Brian Greene. Like most books on physics and cosmology, it's a daunting mindscrew...but I'm staying with it and even learning from it. I've been using Galileo's Finger to help me, as it covers some of the same territory in a different perspective. (Galileo's Finger is a science book I've been chewing on for months. I could rush through it, but I like the author's approach enough to take things slow.)

Additionally, last night I began re-reading a book I read earlier in the year, but never reviewed. (It is on the cumulative reading list, though.) I'm in the mood for it, it's an excellent book, and I'd like to share it on here before year's end. The only other book I've failed to review is Erich Fromm's The Sane Society, and I will re-read it, too..eventually.

Oh! And I just realized today that there's a reason my library doesn't carry a novel called Sharpe's Skirmish. There's no such thing. That's a short story in another novel, Sharpe's Christmas. So, next week I'll be continuing in the Sharpe series. I'd been reading it chronologically, and wasn't sure what to do when I saw Skirmish is next in the series and my library didn't have it. Next up is Sharpe's Enemy, which is set around Christmas, so that's perfect.

Physics of the Future

2011-12-06T20:45:00.000-06:00

Physics of the Future: How Science Will Shape Human Destiny and Our Daily Lives by the Year 2100
© 2011 Michio Kaku
389 pages

We live in a remarkable time of human history. Since the industrial revolution, society has been radically altered by new innovations on a regular basis, and the rate of those world-changing transformations is ever-increasing, like a snowball growing in size and strength as it barrels down a hill. In Physics of the Future, Michio Kaku attempts to identify what changes may come in the 21st century, after interviewing hundreds of scientists from various fields. The result is extraordinarily interesting, covering projected developments in computers, artificial intelligence, medicine, nanotechnology, energy, and space travel as well as the future of wealth and humanity itself.

Although Kaku's field of theoretical physics doesn't lend itself well to lay understanding, here he writes expressly for a popular audience, inundating the text with references to pop culture. While he does engage in some scientific discussion from time to time to explain the basis of new technologies, the book emphasizes their effect on everyday lives, and his ultimate goal seems to be to wake the public up to the potential of science and the importance of appreciating it. When writing on technology, that's easy to do -- there's no shortage of new toys that Kaku can tantalize readers with. Imagine being able to take care of your entire morning routine -- cooking, errands, etc -- with a few orders given to your home computer via a headset while you sit in bed, for instance.

Considering the range of chapters, there seems to be something for everyone here. Being keen on human space flight, for instance, I looked forward to reading about the various ways in which we might further explore the deep black. While I try to stay well-read on that subject, Kaku touched on approaches I'd never heard of --like launching swarms of "nanoships". Our medical prospects seem exciting and wondrous. His predictions on the future of computers frankly horrified me, as he envisions increasing immersion inside virtual environments, or rather a day in which there's no real distinction between virtual and 'real' environments. We're already seeing this today, with applications for our gadgets that read the environment and give restaurant reviews for the dining establishments on a given street, but in the future this interaction will rely on contact lenses that project the Internet onto our eyeballs.

Kaku's work is triumphantly optimistic about the way technology will continue to dominate human lives, which I appreciated given the cynical spirit of our times. However, more thoughtful consideration to the possible consequences of these technologies on our lives might have been in order. His projections point toward a world in which humans are increasingly spectators in their own lives, the subjects of Matrix-like domination by technology. Considering the health problems our current use on automation has given us, do we really want a future in which that is increased? There are seven billion people alive today, most of us doing jobs that Kaku sees machines doing in a hundred years. The kind of social disruption that widespread job losses would cause is unimaginable. He also takes a curiously light attitude toward energy. It would seem to me that in a world as technologically dominated as his in 2100, the section on energy would be fundamentally important -- the foundation on which every other section is based. Instead, it is treated as lightly as a commercial advertising toys mentions the need for batteries.

Even with these limitations, Physics of the Future recommends itself. It's open to anyone remotely literate and should have surprises in store even for those who consider themselves tolerably well-read in matters of science and technology. I imagine the sharpest criticism would come from those interested in social sciences like myself.

In Defense of Food

2011-12-05T10:43:00.002-06:00

In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto
© 2009 Michael Pollan
256 pages

Michael Pollan's seminal work, The Omnivore's Dilemma, established that there's no such thing as a free, or even a cheap, lunch. The low-cost processed foods that the American diet takes for granted exact their price in other ways. The abundance of food in the developed world has coincided, not accidentally, with a decline in its quality - - and so, curiously, while most of us can take the availability of food for granted, we can no longer take for granted that it is in fact food. Food has lost its meaning in the American mind, Pollan asserts here, and science and technology are to blame.

Pollan sees food as having fallen to the twofold assault of industrial agricultural and and ideological which he calls "nutritionism", which reduces food to nothing more than a carrier of nutrients. In his view, this misses the forest for a few twigs on a tree and ignores relationships between different food in traditional diets and the interplay of nutrients and body chemistry. Further, he believes that industrial agriculture creates not food, but products resembling food -- and that nutritionism aids and abets this, creating a situation in which people are "overfed and undernourished".

In Defense of Food presents a problem for me. On the one hand, there are significant ideas worthy of consideration in here -- people do overly fixate on the value of one nutrient or another, industrial agriculture does sacrifice quality for quantity, and yes, the constant pattern of nutritional fixation does dovetail perfectly with relentless advertising-driven consumerism. Pollan's "food rules" make sense, like "Don't eat anything that doesn't look like food". That is, if you want cheese, eat cheese -- not puffs of god-knows-what covered in orange powder.

The great problem for me is the anti-scientific attitude that develops from his attack on "nutritionism", an ideology which Pollan sees as being the spawn of scientists, journalists, and advertisers. While scientists are just as human and potentially self-serving as anyone else, they attract the bulk of Pollan's ire. He mocks the fact that a half-century of nutritional advice has seen Americans grow not healthier, but fatter -- as if obesity and nutritional disorders were caused not by the popularity of fast food or a society dominated by cars, but by the fact that people followed the advice of a government study and got themselves fat by trying to stick to low-fat diets. A spirit of petty resentment pervades the book, as if Pollan is insulted that scientists would dare get their grubby lab gloves over his food. Those of us who are interested in science know all too well that the media does a horrible job at attempting scientific journalism, being irresponsible and ignorant of the subject -- leaving no room for nuance and pitching stories in such a way as to grab headlines. (PhD Comics did a GREAT comic on this.) Pollan mentions the hype over resveratol, for instance, a compound found in many foods of the French diet which has been linked to health and longevity. While Pollan uses this as an example of nutritional fixation, I recently read an interview with the scientist whose work prompted the media frenzy (in Michio Kaku's The Physics of the Future), and he was dismayed by the way the media failed to understand that the variable he was studying was only one factor of many. Here it is Pollan, not the scientist, who is overemphasizing the work.

In Defense of Food may be worth considering if you are just starting to become conscious or mindful about the foods you eat, but given Pollan's bias I can't earnestly recommend it to you. Given the importance of food, I'm sure there are superior books out there on the subject.

Teaser Tuesday (29 November)

2011-11-29T07:12:00.001-06:00

Last Teaser of November...

Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.

(Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, J.K. Rowling. Time to re-read the series!)

Newton -- a man so driven by the pursuit of truth that he once shoved a blunt needle between his eye and the socket bone to study ocular anatomy and, later in life, as Master of the Mint, meted out the harshest of punishments to counterfeiters, sending more than a hundred to the gallows -- had no tolerance for false or incomplete reasoning. So he decided to set the record straight. This led him to introduce the bucket.

(The Fabric of the Cosmos, p. 26. Brian Greene.)

Christmas Reading

2011-11-28T15:30:00.000-06:00

Today the Christmas spirit finally found me. Usually we embrace immediately after Thanksgiving, but the weather has been unseasonably warm lately. Sunday brought with it grey skies and a constant drizzle, though, which is partially inconvenient (for someone who walks in the morning and evening), but wholly appropriate. Today as I left a book club discussion, I embraced the cold air with a spring in my step and Christmas tunes on my mind. I went for a downtown stroll and visited the library, where -- I thought -- I'd pick up A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens. I'm enormously fond of it. Someone checked it out before me, though, so happy reading to them. Feeling inexplicably mirthful, I ran up the steps to the library's upstairs and headed for the kids' section, where I treated myself to two Harry Potter novels and.....Redwall, by Brian Jacques. None of them have a thing to do with Christmas, but they fit my mood -- one of whimsy, looking forward to experiencing more of the magical buzz I get around this time of the year.

I'm also in a mood for some serious reading, so I'm sticking my nose timidly into Brian Greene's The Fabric of the Cosmos. If it is too much for me I will finish Galileo's Finger, which I've not forgotten about.

Timequake

2011-11-27T16:58:00.001-06:00

Timequake
© 1997 Kurt Vonnegut
219 pages

Timequake may be the oddest novel I've ever read. Scratch that: it is the oddest novel I've ever read, but despite its utter lunacy I loved it anyway, because it is so much the product of its author. The tacit premise of Timequake is that in 2001, after billions of years of expansion, the universe hiccoughed, reversed its course to 1991, and then -- decided to continue expanding after all. Every being on Earth was forced to live out the last ten years of their life exactly as they had before. When free will kicks in again, everything goes to hell.

Vonnegut never tells the story of those relived years in away one might expect in a conventional novel. There's no setup; the Quake never happens within the plot. Instead, the reader is introduced to what happened by Vonnegut, and he continues to refer to it tangentially as he rambles merrily about whatever he likes, often using the consequence of the quake on those who lived through it to illustrate a point he's in the middle of making. Chapter divisions are utterly arbitrary, and Vonnegut will often stop to to introduce a random through before returning to the subject of his musings, which range widely from nostalgic thoughts about his family to opinions on faith and human community. A favorite section for me describes Vonnegut's labors to send some of his work to be edited. Rather than emailing or faxing it, he sends in a bundle of typewriter-produced pages and makes a jaunt downtown to fetch the appropriate stationary and postage, thoroughly enjoying his time out and about socializing with others. True, he could be efficient and use faxes or buy envelopes and stamps in bulk, but for Vonnegut that isn't the point. He valued the experience of human interaction, and ends the passage by declaring, "Listen! We're here on Earth to fart around. Don't let anyone tell you different."

Vonnegut is at times heartwarming and sometimes cynical, but he's always present. Kilgore Trout, his alter-ego, makes frequent appearances and Vonnegut works Trout's short stories -- usually with a cynical point -- into his own thoughts. Timequake is pure Vonnegut -- "talking lazily back and forth, almost buzzing like honeybees" with the reader -- and I would recommend it on that basis. If it's a proper story you want, and you've never read Vonnegut before, perhaps introducing yourself to him via Slaughterhouse-5 or Jailbird would be in order. If, however, Kurt Vonnegut's personality and humor have already appealed to you in times past, Timequake will satisfy enormously. To quote his uncle Alex, "If this isn't nice, what is?"

A Light in the Window

2011-11-25T11:10:00.000-06:00

A Light in the Window
© 1996 Jan Karon
446 pages

A few weeks ago I read At Home in Mitford, a novel which offers a charming escape from the noise, pollution, and chaos of everyday life into a small town which progress has happily forgotten. In the village of Mitford, downtown is still alive and thriving with businesses. People begin their mornings by walking or driving to the main street cafe, where they see their neighbors. Groceries come not from factories and Wal-Mart, but from the Local -- another main street establishment which gets its produce from local farms. There's no great drama driving the book, only the reader's enjoyment of ordinary people living their simple lives. The drama is mundane, yet compelling; the characters eccentric and lovable. They aren't sexy spies or latern-jawed action heroes: they're secretaries with tempers, old ladies with history, and -- at least in one case -- a portly priest, the rector of the local Episcopal parish.

Father Tim is the center character of the Mitford series, and the first novel introduced him as a kind, wise, but lonely man who slowly found joy as he became the master of a dog, the guardian of a boy, and the neighbor of a fun-loving children's author who moved next door. The neighbor, Cynthia, offers Tim a source of emotional intimacy he's hard-up for, since in Mitford it is he that people confide in. Who counsels the counselor? In A Light in the Window, author Jan Karon moves the focus from Mitford proper and tightens in on the growing relationship between Tim and his neighbor. There's still drama to be had in town, of course, when the Main Street Grill is imperiled.

As said, the Mitford series is escapism: but for someone like me, such escapism is quite attractive. I delight in Mitford's old-fashioned human-sized community, as well as the gentle classiness of its lead character -- a man who is appalled at the idea of using something even so modern as a microwave oven. I can't imagine walking down the street in Mitford and seeing everyone holding some gadget to their face and not noticing the world around them.

The Crisis of Islam

2011-11-25T10:51:00.000-06:00

The Crisis of Islam: Holy War and Unholy Terror
© 2001, 2003 Bernard Lewis
184 pages

Bernard Lewis' What Went Wrong? examined the failure of modernity in the middle east, but did not address its role in the rise of terrorism. The Crisis of Islam complements it by focusing chiefly on the factors which have inspired violent political activity in both the mideast and against the West, activity which is typically referred to as terrorism. Lewis examines the context that the terrorists claim (Islam) and the history of western nations with the middle-eastern area. The book reveals a myriad of factors at work, and although it isn't quite as thorough as I would have liked, it covers a great deal more than most Americans know.

Lewis starts off with a history of Islam, pointing out that for a number of centuries Islam's political empire constituted perhaps the high point of civilization on Earth. He points out the historic lack of distinction between religion and the state in Islamic society, which is helpful for western, especially American, audiences who are used to the idea of church and state being separate and often conflicting entities. His conception of jihad seems conservative, used entirely to describe war against nonbelievers. Other sources refer to such a war as the 'lesser' jihad, or struggle -- the greater struggle being against our own weaknesses and unwise desires. He also uses the House of Islam vs. House of War dichotomy, which is something I've only seen mentioned by people who are intimidated or hostile by the mention of Islam. The chapters on interaction between the west and the Islamic middle-east are far superior, especially in covering the tendency of strong western countries to meddle in local affairs following the Great War, when the Ottoman Empire's breakup gave Britain and France a host of new quasi-colonies called 'mandates'. The story which emerges is of the middle-east as a failing area , one which produces impoverished and hostile young people who see modernity as having created that failure and who deeply resent the west for having created it, as well as constantly disrupting local politics at its convenience. On the latter count, at least, their grievances seem justified. I only wish Lewis had focused on economics more: I confess to having been swayed by Albert Hourani's notion that some of the anti-western hostility has the same source as labor agitation in the west's own early industrial history.The industrialization process eventually produces an economic boon, but at a cost of environment and human welfare.

Recommended for most readers.

Happy Thanksgiving from Kurt Vonnegut

2011-11-24T17:55:00.002-06:00

After a day spent with family, I came home and began reading Timequake, by Kurt Vonnegut. How appropriate to read the following:

‎"My uncle Alex Vonnegut, a Harvard-educated life insurance salesman who lived at 5033 North Pennsylvania Street, taught me something very important. He said that when things were going really well we should be sure to NOTICE it.
He was talking about simple occasions, not great victories; maybe drinking lemonade on a hot afternoon in the shade, or smelling the aroma of a nearby bakery, or fishing and not caring if we catch anything or not, or hearing somebody all alone playing a piano really well in the house next door.
Uncle Alex urged me to say this out loud during such epiphanies: 'If this isn't nice, what is?'"

- Kurt Vonnegut, Timequake. p. 12

Tuesday Fun

2011-11-22T00:00:00.001-06:00

Teaser Tuesday!

"A.Darell" would just be the sort of thing that she would have to put on all her themes for her class in Composition and Rhetoric--so tasteless. All the other kids had to do it, too, except for Olynthus Dam, because the class laughed so when he did it the first time.

p.79, Second Foundation. Isaac Asimov.

Long before Pat's death, he'd been profoundly unsteadied when she had slipped her hand into his and let her fingers run along his arm. At one point, she began winking at him during sermons, which distracted him to such a degree that he resumed his old habit of preaching over the heads of the congregation, literally. [...] Now Pat, good soul, was cold in the grave, and Edith's casserole was hot on his counter.

A Light in the Window, Jan Karon. Pages 11, 12.

The Broke and the Bookish want to know which ten authors we'd invite to Thanksgiving dinner. I tried to choose a group of people who would get along and enjoy themselves -- I didn't invite Marcus Aurelius, for instance, because I can't imagine he'd enjoy such an affair.

1. Isaac Asimov (...who knows a bit of everything, is witty and charming, and enjoys wordplay.)
2. Kurt Vonnegut (who would hopefully announce, "If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.")
3. Carl Sagan (whom I would ask to bring an apple pie, baked from scratch.)
4. Brian Fagin (general historian who seems to have specialized the role of climate change in human history)
5. Mary Roach, who I recently heard interviewed: she is as fascinating and funny in person as she is as the author of Spook, Stiff, and other pop-science works.
6. David Sedaris (who, hopefully, would not go into an absurdly funny story just as I am taking a sip of my beverage..)
7. John Shelby Spong (who might help us keep things in perspective)
8. Tenzin Gyatsao (because I want to see that beaming smile just once in person)

9. Bernard Cornwell (author of historical fiction whose interviews I delight in watching)

10.Richard Dawkins or Neil deGrasse Tyson, because I'm a science mood lately.

This Week at the Library (16 November)

2011-11-16T11:52:00.001-06:00

It's been a slow week for reading, at least from the library. Unable to pursue my library reads, I re-read Prelude to Foundation and began re-reading Forward the Foundation. Otherwise, so little has been catching fire lately that after reading The Greater Journey by David McCullough, I returned my books to the library and spent a couple of leisurely hours sitting and strolling in various aisles, hoping to find something that would. I think I did, but first, a minireview...

558 pages

David McCullough is a popular name among American historians, known most for his 1776 and a large biography of John Adams. The Greater Journey is somewhat less focused, but is essentially a history of Paris (1830-1900) as seen through the eyes of American visitors, most of whom were visiting professionally. For the majority of these Americans -- whose numbers include famous names like Samuel Morse and Fenimore Cooper -- the journey to Paris was their first trip outside the United States, and the novelty of being a 'foreigner' made their experiences all the more vividly memorable. Through them we experience Paris as it was in the late 19th century, beginning in the Bourbon Restoration era but enduring decades of political change -- a Second Republic, a Second Empire, and a Third Republic, in addition to war with Germany and several protracted sieges. The Americans featured here are professionals of one kind or another -- physicians, architects, writers -- but the artists dominate the work outside of the space devoted to political change. The range of years allows the reader to experience the tremendous change of those years, as the globe shrinks underneath telegraph cables and steam engine tunnels. Given my interest in France and this period, I certainly enjoyed the book for the most part, although all the art history overwhelmed me. The photographs and prints of artwork included are stunning.

This week...

Plan and Simple: A Woman's Journey to the Amish, Sue Bender. I am at the same time intrigued by the Amish devotion to simple living and revulsed by their cultish atmosphere and suppression of individuality with practices like shunning. Sue Bender is an artist who shares my objection to forced conformity, but felt herself mesmerized by Amish art and decided to spend a summer living with them.
The Crisis of Islam: Holy War and Unholy Terror, Bernard Lewis. I read Lewis' What Went Wrong? concerning the effects of modernization in the middle east and the ongoing hostile reaction to it during the summer, and have been meaning to sample more of Lewis.
A Light in the Window, Jan Karon; the second in the Mitford series..
Vagabond, Bernard Cornwell. Alas, my library doesn't appear to have Sharpe's Skirmish, and I've been mulling over whether or not to pursue in the series or attempt to acquire the novel first.

I was really in the mood for something WW2-related, specifically a novel -- but I didn't feel like getting into James Jones' From Here to Eternity, and the loud colors and huge rendering of W.E.B. Griffin's name on his several rows of books left me with the impression that they were meant as cheap thrillers.

The Astral

2011-11-16T10:02:00.000-06:00

The Astral
© 2011 Kate Christensen
311 pages

Harry Quirk is a sixty-ish poet whose entire world is changing. In only an afternoon, he has lost a year's worth of work, his home, and his wife: after discovering that his latest project involved a collection of romantic sonnets addressed to a panel of women other than herself, Harry's wife Luz destroyed it and tossed him out on the street. The poet is something of a dinosaur even in his chosen profession, but he is reluctant to depend on the charity of his daughter Carina. All Harry really wants to do is go home, but he can't -- for the distance between himself and his wife is greater than a simple misunderstanding. Despite dominating his life for twenty years, his marriage seems to be over, and he must learn to live by and for himself.

Thus begins a fascinating novel with a dominating theme of dependency in relationships, told by a character who is at once sympathetic. Helpless to understand at first, he grows in strength throughout the novel. It helps that Harry isn't allowed to focus entirely on himself: his son is being sucked into a cult even as his marriage is lying in ruins. I appreciated that Christensen didn't give a novel like this a conventional ending, but left the door open -- Harry and his friends and neighbors are left with room to grow long after the book is done. Strong characters and a fascinating theme made The Astral a highlight of my reading two weeks ago.

The KunstlerCast

2011-11-09T10:01:00.003-06:00

The KunstlerCast: Conversations with James Howard Kunstler

...the tragic comedy of suburban sprawl.

300 pages

James Howard Kunstler is a journalist turned social critic and the author of numerous books, most prominently The Geography of Nowhere and The Long Emergency: Surviving the Converging Catastrophes of the Twenty-first Century. These two books address the seemingly disparate topics of urban planning and the global oil economy, but to Kunstler and like-minded readers, they are troublesomely knit together, intensifying the problems that each causes. For the past three years, Kunstler has talked each week with on these and connected topics with his co-host, Duncan Crary, who has now produced a partial record of their discussions -- a collection which will no doubt please Kunstler's fans, while offering those unfamiliar with his work their first taste of it.

Although his modern work ties to his predictions for the post-oil future, most of Kunstler's nonfiction works fall within the realm of urban criticism. Americans who have never encountered his ire may be staggered by how much of their world he holds in scorn. Just what is it about the modern city and suburban sprawl that he finds so appalling? In a word, everything. The opening sentence of The Geography of Nowhere, in which Kunstler attempts to summarize why he wrote the book, is a paragraph long. The growth of American cities and later, the 'edge' cities that grew out of suburbian sprawl, has centered on the automobile, and the result is the decline of public transit like rail lines in favor of highways -- infrastructure built on the promise of cheap gasoline, and frightfully ugly to behold. Its decentralization destroys the integrity of human communities and is in part responsible for the rising obesity problem in the U.S: our automobile-fixated culture gives people few opportunities to incorporate activity like walking into their everyday life, for now every trip anywhere demands the car. The results are hideous: compare an eight-line commercial strip lined with box stores, oceans of pavement, and offensive, neon-colored signs the size of trucks to the charm of what once was, to the tree-lined American Main Street with its cozy stores and pedestrian focus. The good news, for Kunstler and those who sympathize, is that this horror cannot long remain: it is doomed by its dependency on oil.

The second half of Kunstler's legacy, originating in The Long Emergency and a source of constant chatter among the author and his co-host, is the idea of peak oil and its ramifications. The cancerous growth of urban sprawl has been enabled by the abundance of cheap oil, but that era is drawing to a close. The United States' oil reserves have already dwindled, and soon enough the oil wells of the middle east and Russia will dry, too. The consequences for a global economy built on oil -- oil to run the ships and trucks that connect manufacturing and distribution, oil to process food -- for food is an industrial, not an agricultural product these days -- are dire. Kunstler sees the fabric of globalization partially disintegrating, and local economies reviving. Everything, including the cities, will shrink to a smaller scale -- a human-sized scale. The unviable sprawl will die, and authentic human communities will prosper once more, while bemoaning the amount of resources that were wasted in the "cheap oil fiesta".

KunstlerCast's conversations tend to focus more on Kunstlers' urban critiques than the peak oil scenario, though the two are connected to the point that the whole of the book flows together well, aside from some small deviations wherein Kunstler takes time to grouch about tattoos. I found these breaks more amusing than anything, and the book as a whole a positive delight, one which prompted me to begin re-reading The Geography of Nowhere. While Kunstlers' arguments as a whole are more thoroughly presented in the two books previously mentioned, the format of KunstlerCast allows the author and his host to discuss contemporary, related, and specific issues not mentioned in the 1993 book, or only mentioned in passing, like the health consequences of an automobile-centered society or the work of other critics like Jane Jacobs. They also cover ground visited in its lesser-known books, like Home from Nowhere and The City in Mind. I especially enjoyed these sections, as I've not been able to get my hands on these books despite my interest in them. Thus, while covering familiar ground the conversations also introduce new material, making them of interest to Kunstler fans. Newcomers may appreciate a less formal introduction to these issues, especially given how easy it is to "listen" to the banter-filled conversation between these two intelligent and thoughtful men.

Given the present economics of the world, Kunstler's work has never been more relevant, and is now all the more accessible. This is a hit for old fans and the newly interested alike. The KunstlerCast may be found at KunstlerCast.com, with archives as far back as 2008.

Related:
The Geography of Nowhere, James Howard Kunstler
The Omnivore's Dilemma, Michael Pollan
American Mania: When More Isn't Enough, Peter Whybrow

Sharpe's Sword

2011-11-08T11:52:00.000-06:00

Sharpe's Sword
© 1983 Bernard Cornwell
319 pages

The year is 1812, and the Napoleonic wars are broadening. After retreating to Portugal, the British army is once again on the move, now pushing into Spain to confront Napoleon's armies in Salamanca. As much as Wellington desires to draw the French army into an engagement, his opposing counterpart is content to block the English army's advance into Spain and threaten their supply lines, always obstructing the English but never giving Wellington the chance to use his wiles against them. For the moment, Sharpe and his men are without battle to engage them -- but not without a mission, because someone is killing England's spies and threatening a continent-wide intelligence network. Sharpe and his comrades know who the man is, but first they must find him hiding in the city -- and do so quickly, before he strikes at Wellington's master spy.

Sharpe's Sword is a rich, full Sharpe novel containing several military engagements -- including the big battle Wellington wanted, a superior tale of the event -- in addition to a plot of espionage. Cornwell thoughtfully threw in a few twists and turns, and while Sharpe's foe is largely absent in hiding, he proves to be one of most difficult for Sharpe to defeat, nearly killing our hero -- but he recovers, his faithful friend Patrick at his side, and the attention paid to their friendship is one of the book's better moments. When reading Sharpe, I prefer his solitary adventures to the tales of battle, but Wellington's daring attack enthralled me here. Sharpe's Sword delivers fully.

Next up: Sharpe's Skirmish.

Teaser Tuesday (8 November)

2011-11-08T00:00:00.003-06:00

Teaser Tuesday is a bookish event in which participants share excerpts from their current reads, hosted by ShouldBeReading.

"But then Paris was a continuing lesson in the enjoyment to be found in such simple, unhurried occupations as a walk in a garden or watching children at play or just sitting observing the human cavalcade. One learned to take time to savor life, much as one took time to savor a good meal or a glass of wine. The French called it 'l'entente de la vie', the harmony of life."

p. 44, The Greater Journey: Americans in Paris, David McCullough

"The problem in America is not that we're driving the wrong kind of cars. The trouble is we're driving every kind of car incessantly. [...] Let the car die. Let the motoring system die, and let's move on to the next thing -- which ought to be good urbanism, walkable neighborhoods, walkable cities that are scaled to the true energy resources of the future, not just wishes and fantasies."

p.11, 12 KunstlerCast: Conversations with James Howard Kunstler. Quoted from The Geography of Nowhere

And because it gives me such pleasure to read it, another from Kunstler:

Eighty percent of everything ever built in America has been built in the last fifty years, and most of it is depressing, brutal, ugly, unhealthy, and spiritually degrading -- the jive plastic computer tract home wastelands, the Potemkin village shopping plazas with their vast parking lagoons, the Lego block hotel complexes, the 'gourmet mansardic' junk-food joints, the Orwellian office 'parks' featuring buildings sheathed in the same reflective glass as the sunglasses worn by chain-gang guards, the particle board garden apartments rising up in every meadow and cornfield, the freeway loops around every big and little city with their clusters of discount merchandise marts, the whole destructive, wasteful, toxic, agoraphobic-inducing spectacle that politicians proudly call 'growth'."

p. 2,. KunstlerCast, quoting The Geography of Nowhere.

Literature, meet music!

2011-11-07T21:34:00.000-06:00

Tonight a group of history alumni from my university have been discovering a YouTube account called "thehistorians", in which history is told in the form of pop music parodies. I'm overwhelmed with giddiness at the find, and there's also some devoted to classics of western literature!

This Week at the Library...

2011-11-02T09:41:00.001-05:00

Well, welcome to November! October seems to have been a busy month for reading, as well as a satisfying one. In addition to the books which I commented on in the last week, I also read The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, as well as The Astral by Kate Christensen. I'll be giving The Astral more extended comments later, but suffice it to say, the book proved a most intriguing novel and I would have checked out another by Christensen if I could have remembered her last name's spelling while in fiction.

As for The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: it collects a dozen or so Holmes stories, most set in the latter part of the great detective's career, including the chronologically "last" in the series in which Holmes foils a German spy on the cusp of the Great War. The afterward comments that such a story is a fitting end to the Holmes series, as the Great War completely destroyed the Victorian world that Holmes was most at home in. In addition to conventional mysteries, the collection included four rather usual stories. Two were mysteries that Watson reports on, but not as Holmes' assistant: indeed, Holmes never appears by name, and his anonymous attempts to solve the mysteries both propose solutions which turn out to be wrong. They're impressive guesses, but wrong all the same. One of these stories, involving a missing train, happened to be my favorite -- largely because how does a train go missing? The last two stories, including "How Watson Learned the Trick", were almost disappointing in their brevity. Indeed, they're not stories so much as brief scenes in which Doyle pokes fun at his detective's style of logical deduction -- or so the afterward tells me. Even so, that style is most impressive: in a story I'm reading now, Holmes figures the speed of the train by noting the rate at which telegraph poles are passing by. Since he knows the distance between each pole, he can count the miles and speed without reference to a speedometer or mile posts.

At the library this week, I picked up...

The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes, which is another Readers Digestion collection of Holmes stories like the last two I read, in the same handsome binding with an attractive font and illustrations.
The Age of Louis XIV, Will Durant. Time for another big helping of European history.
Sharpe's Sword, Bernard Cornwell. I've watched the movie version of this before, but the Sharpe movies and Sharpe books vary wildly so I don't think I've been too much spoiled beyond "Sharpe deals with loathsome aristocrats, Sharpe fights a really big battle and almost dies"...but those are elements of every Sharpe novel.
The Greater Journey: Americans in Paris, David McCullough. McCullough is a popular and well-acclaimed historian, most famous for his 1776 and a large biography of John Adams. This appeared in the library's new acquisitions section, and I picked it up out of curiosity.
The Book of Guys, Garrison Keiler. As a regular NPR listener, I'm accustomed to his voice and humor but have never read one of his books.

Since we're coming up on 5 November, I really should have checked out something on English history to continue my yearly tradition of reading culture-related books on nationalish holidays. I've been struggling to get that tradition off the ground -- there hasn't been a year when I've done all four (American, 4 July; French, 14 July; German, 3 October; England, 5 November) successfully, this year included. I never finished my Fourth of July Reading, didn't finish my Bastille Day Reading until August, and now don't have a proper Guy Fawkes reading. I suppose Sharpe could count, being a work by an English author and starring an English main character, and Sherlock Holmes is an English creation as well...but it feels like cheating, because I would have read them anyway.

A question to English readers -- might St. George's day be more appropriate for me to do an English-culture related reading? I know Guy Fawkes Night isn't a "national" holiday, but I chose it because it was the only national-ish holiday I knew of. Whenever I mention this book/culture project of mine at forums, English commenters seem to think my choice of dates is an odd one.

Sharpe's Company

2011-10-31T14:08:00.001-05:00

Sharpe's Company
© 1982 Bernard Cornwell
280 pages

Spring 1812. After wintering behind its protective battle lines, the British army is ready to begin driving Monsieur Bonaparte out of Spain -- but first, there's a great big fortress at Badajoz to capture. The fortress has thwarted previous attempts at seizure by the British, but it must be taken....and Richard Sharpe must take it, for his promotion to Captain was refused and now he is but a lowly lieutenant, separated from his friends and his company. Only through some glorious triumph can he salvage his wounded pride and restore his proper rank. Worse yet, he's forced to contend with an old nemesis, Sergeant Hakeswill, who must be one of the most perfectly loathsome men in all of English literature. Hakeswill is a malevolent force that Sharpe must destroy, for the contemptible sergeant has his eyes set on destroying Sharpe's love Teresa....and their daughter.

The personal odds are as high as they've ever been for Sharpe, and the final battle one of his most difficult. The prospect of Sharpe losing his company and his best friend should strike a chord with readers, for we have seen his bond with them grow throughout this series. Originally, Sharpe was assigned as their quartermaster, and when he presumed to take actual command the men hated him for it. Now Sharpe and his company are as loyal to one another as is humanely possible, and though fate and war would seem to drive them apart they will defy both and reunite to help accomplish one of Britain's most memorable victories -- one again, as an American, I've never heard of. Company is one of the more intense Sharpe novels, although it does not quite satisfy in the matter of Obadiah Hakeswill. Still, I look forward to Sharpe's Sword.

Clash of Wings

2011-10-31T13:35:00.000-05:00

Clash of Wings: World War II in the Sky
© 1994 Walter J. Boyne
415 pages

Although European powers employed aircraft during war early in the 20th century, and they saw widespread use during the Great War as tools supplementing armies, not until the Second World War did military aviation truly come into its own. Who can think of those years and miss the Battle of Britain and the Blitz, or the furious carrier battles in the Pacific like that of Midway? During World War II, aircraft were manufactured at a rate never before seen and the respective powers turned them into weapons in their own right, leveling cities with bombers and making command of the air as crucial as command of the ground. In Clash of Wings, aviator and military historian Walter J. Boyne explores every aspect of the war in which aircraft were involved, from the large battles in which they dominated to the smaller affairs where they only assisted. He examines not just the planes, tactics, and strategy of various European powers, but the organizational strengths of the contending air forces. The result is a thorough guide to World War II's skies, a gold mine for students of the period.

Boyne leaps into the action straightaway, focusing immediately on the outbreak of war in Europe, though he does explain how history influenced every nation to develop the air strategy it did. Necessity also shaped strategy: while Britain's air policy may have been influenced by the memory of Germany's bombing raids in the first world war, it focused on long-distance bombers because bombers were its primary means of fighting Germany until the Axis began stumbling around in northern Africa. Japan's small but elite air arm evolved to destroy inferior opponents, like the Russians and Chinese, but proved to be insufficient for long-term war with a fully industrialized power like that of the United States. This is an incredibly busy history, as airplanes were ubiquitious during the conflict and were the main contendors in some campaigns: it is hard to imagine any conflict out-doing WWII in putting airplanes to tactical and strategic use, winning both battles and destroying Hitler's means of fighting. Boyne even devotes chapters to airplanes' use in fighting submarines, or supplying Chinese nationalists in their fight against the Japanese. As an aviator himself, he's always kind to the airmen of every country, saving his harshest criticism for those high in the organizational ranks who failed to provide just or competent leadership. He also evaluates the machines themselves from a technical point of view, where his own piloting experience proves useful.

I have been reading books about military aviation for over a decade now, and the quality of this book astonishes me. The wealth of information should make it staggeringly valuable to someone writing a paper on the subject, for Boyne's history not only covers every conceivable aspect of the air war but also includes production and loss numbers throughout, in addition to several appendices. The book's organization keeps all this information nicely contained and quickly accessible, and Boyne's passion for the subject makes his tale an engaging one to read. I must read more Boyne, and strongly recommend this work.

The Rapture Exposed

2011-10-31T12:12:00.001-05:00

The Rapture Exposed: the Message of Hope in the Book of Revelation
© 2004 Barbara R. Rossing
224 pages

"When evil men plot, good men must plan. When evil men burn and bomb, good men must build and bind. When evil men shout ugly words of hatred, good men must commit themselves to the glories of love."

- Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

I am amazed that so much of the horror of my youth was built on so pathetic a foundation. As a child growing up in a fundamentalist Christian sect, I was promised a future filled with horror and dread if I was not a perfect child. Any day now, any moment, all the "real" Christians would float into the sky and the rest of us would be abandoned to seven years of war, chaos, pestilence, and an evil totalitarian state that encompassed the entire earth. During my adolescence, I frequently panicked and grew fearful if I lost communication with my parents, and often had nightmares about the world to come. Not until I left religion in 2006 did this fear subside, but now that I find that not only is this interpretation of Revalation badly assembled, but that an alternative interpretation carres at its heart what attracts people to Jesus and Christianity: the message that love and peaceful action can overcome evil. In The Rapture Exposed, Barbara Rossing tears apart the Left Behind story, urges readers to combat its political influence in the middle east, and explains her own view.

Around fifteen years ago, the Left Behind series became enormously popular in the United States. The series began with the Rapture spiriting away all the real, true Christians in addition to every child on earth, and then followed a collection of fairly cretinous heroes as they dedicated themselves to God in the aftermath and sought to effect his will throughout the Great Tribulation. The books were fairly terrible (and I say that speaking as someone who read all sixteen), but benefited from the kind of dread and expectation that the coming of a new Millenium brought with it. The series offered Christians horror and drama withotu sex and 'bad words', and is dominated throughout by a self-congratulatory spirit. Despite this, the worldview is distressingly influential. Rossi opens by first pointing out that this great horrible story of the Rapture has no genuine biblical basis. While its proponents use a collection of Biblical verses from Revelations, Thessalonians, and Daniel to tell their story, that collection is a patchwork fraud -- like a randsom note written by cutting out letters from magazine articles and gluing them together to turn cheerful advertisments into death threats. That is essentially what Rossing believes Rapturists have done with Revelation, a book written in her view to offer encouragment to Christians under persecution. She delves into the history of Rapture belief, as well as the history of the early church, pointing out that Revelation belongs to a genre of literature known as Apocalypses, and she uses an excellent metaphor (Scrooge's vision in A Christmas Carol) to point out that its story need not actually happen for its meaning to be significant.

That meaning, for Rossi, is not one of dread and horror, but of the victory of love. As she guides readers through the book of Revelation, we see that the predominant portrayal of Jesus is one of a slain lamb. She urges readers to use Revelation's story to help them see the here and now as the Kingdom of God, and their Christian duty in fully realizing it by fighting injustice, serving others, and making this world as best as it can be. In Rossi's view, debunking Rapture mythology is essential not only in fighting escapism or perverting a message of hope into one of horror, but in ending its current political influence as politicians like George W. Bush, Sarah Palin, and other members of the self-proclaimed moral majority allow Left Behind mythology to influence their potential policy decisions in the middle east. She ends by offering a selection of verses which Rapture-believers bank on, and then commenting on their meanings within their actual literary or historical context. The book isn't as thorough a resource as someone struggling with the rapture might like -- there's no mention of how Christians have historically viewed Revelation outside of the brief 200 years the Rapture has been around -- but it should suffice as a wake-up call, or at the very least allow readers to appreciate Revelation for the first time as something other than the work of a madman on a "bad trip".

The Lost Hero

2011-10-31T10:46:00.000-05:00

The Lost Hero
© 2010 Rick Riordian
557 pages

Rick Riordian's debut novels introduced us to Percy Jackson, a half-mortal half-divine Demigod destined to save the world. Now the hero of heroes has vanished -- and three new demigods have come into Camp Half-Blood's care, all older than the usual freshman camper and all with troubled histories. The oldest, Jason, doesn't even know who he is. These are dark days for the kids of Camp Half-Blood: their leader has vanished, Olympus is closed, the gods are silent, and strange things are rumbling in the darkness. A great conflict is a-building, and it will test the mettle of three new heroes -- Jason, Piper, and Leo. The result is an exciting, unpredictable story that's left me looking to a sequel with eager anticipation.

The Lost Hero is most impressive. Although I looked forward to revisiting the Greek gods, I did have concerns that it might be repetitive. This isn't the case. Three distinct viewpoint characters tell the story, and each have a history that has set them up for conflict with one another and their allies in the story; they all start out compromised, unlike Percy and Annabeth. Riordan is clearly writing for a more mature audience here: there's more work put into the long-term story, and the writing itself isn't as light-hearted in nature as with the kids' series. The reader is treated to two stories -- not only the action-adventure thriller, as the three struggle against monsters to prevail, but a darker mystery: there's clearly a larger story behind this one, but we have no idea what role Destiny has in mind for the heroes. This mystery is gripping and the ending a spectacular reveal. I'm quite excited about future offerings in this series.

----------

I wrote this on 6 October, but for some reason never got around to posting it.

The Age of Reason Begins

2011-10-26T10:08:00.001-05:00

The Age of Reason Begins
© 1961 Will and Aerial Durant
729 pages

"We are all citizens of one world, we are all of one blood. To hate a man because he was born in another county, because he speaks a different language, or because he takes a different view on this subject or that, is a great folly. Desist, I implore you, for we are all equally human...Let us have but one end in view, the welfare of humanity; and let us put aside all selfishness in considerations of language, nationalism, or religion." - p. John Comenius, b. 1592

After struggling through two centuries of Catholics and Protestants screaming at each other in The Reformation, The Age of Reason Begins promised deliverance: bring on the Enlightenment! The opening chapters encouraged those newfound feelings of belief: enter Queen Elizabeth and Shakespeare! Look, in the table of contents -- there's Montaigne! An a full section devoted to science. Glory, hallelujah. And yet, The Age of Reason Begins is just as dominated by religion as The Reformation; almost moreso, because its contents are almost wholly devoted to religious wars and interdenominational persecution. England and France's wars are followed by the Thirty Years' War, to the point that I began to look forward to sections on architecture and literature because they promised some relief from the constant bloodletting. And yet, as Durant points out, these conflicts helped clear the way for the Enlightenment. The utter savageness and prolonged nature of these conflicts -- and the fact that there were no good guys, only a multitude of opinionated, bloodthirsty cretins who caused me to yell "A plague on ALL YOUR HOUSES!" at least once while reading -- sapped faith's credibility in the minds of Europeans. In desperation to escape the insanity, they turned intstead to philosophy and science. Thus a grisly read offers relief by ending on a happier note.

Beginning Runner's Handbook

2011-10-26T09:18:00.000-05:00

The Beginning Runner's Handbook: The Proven 13-Week Walk-Run Program
© 1999 Ian MacNeill
168 pages

As mentioned prior, I committed myself to an active lifestyle back in late August or early September, and began a daily habit of exercise, choosing to go for brisk walks in the morning and evening. I've been increasing the length and intensity of my 'walk-outs' steadily until this week, so my legs have been growing in strength and I'm so filled with energy that I wish to RUN -- but I can't. I've had to cut back a bit on my mileage because of runner's knee: my joints simply aren't ready for the intensity of running. Even so, I keep thinking about it and as a way of preparing myself and running vicariously, I decideded to check out The Beginning Runner's Handbook, a thorough guide that includes a transition plan for walkers to condition themselves into becoming runners.

The Handbook reminded me in part of the Complete Guide to Walking in that it stressed the need for the exercise, the ease of taking up running, and devoted sections to gear, stretches, and so on. However, its chapter on nutrition is more thorough than the Guide to Walking, and it contains information on common running injuries, their treatment, and their prevention. MacNeill also encourages cross-training, along with strength training, but the Runners' Handbook isn't written as much toward a goal of "total body fitness" as the Guide to the Walking. MacNeill's strength-training exercises mostly target those muscles used in running, and cross-training is introduced as a way to keep active during running rest periods or injuries. Because running is a more intensive activity than walking, his schedule reccommends running three times a week and using the other days to rest and cross-training.

Altogether, a strong introduction to the subject. For those interested, I would reccommend both the Complete Guide to Walking and this Handbook: the walking guide is more thorough for fitness overall, but the running handbook is more detailed in nutrition needs and medical care. Unfortunately, I can't evaluate the program just yet, but it has received high praise on Amazon.

This Week at the Library (25 October)

2011-10-25T13:32:00.001-05:00

Oh, dear, oh dear. The number of books I need to review but haven't gotten round to doing yet keeps increasing. Reviews outstanding: The Lost Hero, Rick Riordan; At Home in Mitford, Jan Karon; The Beginning Runners' Handbook by Ian MacNeill, and Active Living Every Day are all owed reviews. That last one doesn't lend itself well to a full review, though, so I'll just say here that it was written for people who are completely inactive and who need encouragement in just getting started. While walking is the easiest activity to begin, it isn't the only one mentioned. The authors encourage complete couch potatoes to start stealing two minute walks whenever they can, work up to ten, and continue working up to an average of thirty minutes a day. That's easier than you might think, because exercise can be enjoyable. When I'm 40+ minutes into my walking in the morning, I feel like I could conquer the world.

At Home in Mitford is also hard to review, because it doesn't have...a plot, as such. Not that it's harmed by this: it just follows the life of some people in a charming little town for a year and a half. It's...utterly beguiling -- cozy, "home"y. I also finished reading a book last night I've not yet reviewed, called The Rapture Exposed, and it proved to be most interesting and useful. More later!

Today at the library I picked up..

God has a Dream:A Vision of Hope for Our Time, Desmond Tutu. Last night I was invited to join a book club, and the November read is this. So I'll read it this week, take some notes, and hopefully remember having read it a month from now.
Clash of Wings: World War II in the Sky, Walter J. Boyne. I have mentioned Boyne on this blog before, having used his The Influence of Air Power Upon History in many term papers. I owe a lot of my academic success to the man, frankly, and when I saw a Boyne book sitting in the library I had to check it out.
Sharpe's Company, Bernard Cornwell.
The Astral, Kate Christensen. On display, this novel's cover caught my attention. I'm not committed to it, but some of the characters sounded interesting. A poet is kicked out of his apartment when his wife realizes some of his older poetry reveals he had an affair in his youth, and he loses everything and isn't quite comfortable with his lesbian daughter and cult-following son. My guess is he learns to stop taking things seriously and learns to love his oddball kids for who they are.

I have that history of math/science book I picked up last week still waiting my attention, and I'm struggling (!) to get into The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. The opening story in this volume isn't nearly as enticing as the others.

In addition, I finished The Age of Reason Begins last night, so...that is joining the stack of books I've yet to review. I'm going to take a week-long break from the Story of Civilization series because frankly, I'm a little tired of reading about European wars. Two centuries of Catholics and Protestants frothing at the mouth, and burning each other's homes has taken its toll on me...and that's not even counting the 30 Years' War. Oy. But next week I'll probably start The Age of Louis XIV.

Sharpe's Battle

2011-10-23T16:58:00.001-05:00

Sharpe's Battle
© 1995 Bernard Cornwell
304 pages

“You did what, Sharpe? A duel? Don't you know dueling is illegal in the army?”
“I never said anything about a duel, General. I just offered to beat the hell out of him right here and now, but he seemed to have other things on his mind."

Spring 1811, and Captain Richard Sharpe has gotten himself into trouble. At first he was merely lost, but when he stumbled upon a strange band of French troops dressed in grey and led by a man in wolf costume, he earned himself a mortal enemy. Brigadier Loup is a vile French commander who seeks to terrorize the Spanish population into obedience, using even rape as a weapon. This does not sit well with Mr. Sharpe. Cornwell's heroes may live for battle and not think twice about punching priests who've got it coming, but as a rule they don't abide rape. After Sharpe executes the offenders, their master Loup vows vengeance -- and gives to our valiant greencoated riflemen something we've not before witnessed, defeat. Tasked with babysitting a regiment of Irishmen thought to be more loyal to France than Britain, and threatened with a court of inquiry for executing prisoners, Sharpe faces the death of his career. Salvation can only be found in a spectatular act of heroism, like the slaying of the Wolf, Brigadier Loup, whose ferocity has made him a legend among his English and Portugese enemies. Thus begins an exciting story with one of the most personal fights in the series serving as a conclusion.

Although American schoolchildren are taught the history of England, that history tends to leave off abruptly after 1789, and England appears thereafter only when foreign affairs make it relevant to American history. Thus, the Napoleonic wars are a complete unknown to many of us, and the Peninsular War which British children may be expected to recite facts about might as well be existent. Cornwell's Sharpe series is essentially giving me my education in that regard, as I read his books and various historical articles for context. When the story picks up, the British army seems to moved beyond its safe fortifications and has tempted Napoleon's eagles into battle. Sharpe's duties don't allow him a place in battle, but -- being Sharpe -- he finds his way into the thick of things regardless. Sharpe's Battle focuses more on the movement of armies than other books in the series, and the villain is irredeemably evil, but admittedly interesting. He strikes Sharpe as a pagan warlord, holding a cross of wolves' tales to inspire courage in his men and fear in his opponents'. Cornwell plays a wicked trick on the reader in turns of drama, leading Sharpe into what may be a desperate trap and then moving to Wellington while the reader is left frantically wondering "What will become of Mister Sharpe?!" Battle is intense throughout, and another solid hit for the series.

Next up: Sharpe's Company.

The Planet that Wasn't

2011-10-17T14:52:00.000-05:00

The Planet that Wasn't
© 1976 Isaac Asimov
237 pages

Isaac Asimov routinely penned science essays in various magazines, and given his eagerness to publish books, often produced collections of said science essays. The Planet that Wasn't is one such collection, covering pure science as well as science's perception in society. The title essay refers to the speculated planet of Vulcan, which was thought to exist between Mercury and the Sun, proposed as a way to account for Mercury's slight orbital deviation. Vulcan could never be found, because it did not exist: our entire understanding of physics had to change (from Newtonian mechanics to Einstein's relativity) before Mercury's orbit was truly understood. After some initial astrophysics, a brief series of essays takes us from the versatility of carbon to biochemistry, and Asimov devotes a chapter to the working of the gallbladder, cholesterol, and high blood pressure. The latter essays move from science to its relationship with society: "The Nightfall Effect" addresses the notion that human beings can only settle outer space on other planetary bodies, and not space stations, while "The Flying Dutchman" tackles UFOs. My favorite essay is "The Bridge of the Gods', which addresses the physics of the rainbow and treated me to a history of optics.

Enjoyable as ever, but I would say that...being an Asimovophile.

Complete Guide to Walking

2011-10-17T14:35:00.000-05:00

Walking Magazine's Complete Guide to Walking for Health, Weight Loss, and Fitness
© 2001 Mark Fenton
261 pages

In late August or early September, I woke up early one morning, donned my wide-brimmed straw hat, and set off for an early-morning walk around my neighborhood. I found the jaunt an excellent way to wake up in the morning, and since I needed to get active, I made the morning walk a routine of mine. Now, over a month later, I'm walking well over five miles a day and am enjoying much stronger legs and an abundance of energy. Since I anticipate making this a lifelong activity, I decided to see if there was any literature on the subject. Walking Magazine's Complete Guide to Walking for Health, Weight Loss, and Fitness is as complete and enjoyable an introduction to the subject as I can imagine, and a definite recommendation to those interested in becoming more active or in losing weight.

Author Mark Fenton begins by explaining the benefits of walking as an exercise: it's easy to do, it can be done anywhere, and it requires essentially nothing in the way of special equipment, only a pair of sensible shoes and the will to do it. Walking is a fundamentally natural exercise, so it's easy to start and maintain. Fenton takes the reader through a year in the life of a walker, beginning with weekly program of ten minutes per day and slowly ramping up to a desired average of thirty minutes per day. A few weeks in, Fenton dedicates a chapter to walking for weight-loss, and explains the basics of metabolism. One of the best points he makes in the book is that diet alone is not a sustainable way to lose weight: as your weight decreases, so do the amount of calories that you need. To keep losing, the dieter must cut out more and more calories from their diet, which is unsustainable given the basic needs of the body -- and the sheer distastefulness of not being able to eat anything. Those who eat moderately and exercise can continue to lose weight or maintain a healthy weight throughout their life simply by increasing the intensity or length of their workouts. I can attest to this, because I have been consistently losing weight every week in the past month+ since I started walking, without drastic changes to my diet. (Although, I lost a lot less that week I enjoyed a piece of my friend's fresh out-of-the-oven cheesecake...) Although weight loss will be a side effect of a healthy walking habit, Fenton's goal with this book is broader than that. He aims toward total body fitness, and so also advices strength-training exercises. In the early months, these are introduced to strengthen one's "core" to complement the walking, while exercises in the latter half of the book are intended to work muscles that aren't active through walking alone. A few months into the habit, the author suggests it may be time for new shoes -- and dedicates a chapter towards useful walking gear, like how to dress for inclement weather. He also advocates cross-training, and ends with a chapter on "racewalking".

I give the book high praise for its organization and presentation: Fenton is a passionate, thorough, and useful guide. Visually, it's quite appealing, though I found the fact that all of the pictures featured fit twenty-something females in flattering attire rather amusing. I suppose that's proof to this being the product of a magazine, as is perhaps some mild product-placement in the gear section. I'll be referring to this book in later months when I do more strength training.

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes

2011-10-16T21:21:00.000-05:00

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Illustrations by Richard Lebenson
Afterword by Fred Strebeigh
© 1987, The Reader's Digest Association.

‎"You? Who are you? How could you know anything about the matter?"

"My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what other people don't know."

Lately I've been wanting to read a good mystery, but put down a police novel after realizing I'm rather tired of books that begin with dead bodies. I wanted a mystery with some class, with some dignity -- a gentleman's mystery, like Isaac Asimov's Black Widow puzzlers. Finding no one who could recommend such a work, I decided to examine the most legendary detective in literature: Sherlock Holmes. This handsome volume of twelve stories met my taste exactly, and I am licking my chops at the prospect of having fifty more such stories to read in other volumes.

There are few people in the industrialized world who would not recognize the name Sherlock Holmes, I imagine. His profile -- a deerstalker hat and pipe -- are cultural icons, as his saying, "Elementary, my dear Watson..." Holmes is is a brilliant and ruthlessly logical detective residing in Victorian London, whose clientele ranges from the dregs of society to kings. Regardless of social status or wealth, all who come to Holmes see him as their last possible hope. He only asks that his cases present him with a challenge, and he masters each with his impressive powers of observation, taking in every fact and producing bewilderingly accurate analysis based on that. Twelve of those stories are chronicled here by Holmes' lone friend and companion, Dr. Watson: "A Scandal in Bohemia", "The Red-Headed League", "A Case of Identity", "The Boscombe Valley Mystery", "The Five Orange Pis", "The Man with the Twisted Lip", "The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle", "The Adventure of the Speckled Band", "The Adventure of the Engineer's Thumb", "The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor", "The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet", and "The Adventure of the Copper Beeches".

I fell for Doyle's style of writing immediately; there's such elegance to his prose that I found myself reading aloud simply for the pleasure of it. The stories, too, offered much variety: although there are a few corpses scattered here and there, these aren't death-mysteries. Some of them do not even involve legal crimes. Although a friend told me that Doyle wrote these stories in such a way as to invite the reader to solve them before Holmes, I scarcely think this possible: while the detective's feats of logic are easy enough to follow in retrospect, and readers versed in literary tropes may guess at solutions, Holmes' concrete evidence is often information the readers are not privy to, or can't possibly grasp the significance of. This doesn't in any way detract from the pleasure of following Holmes' footsteps, and the stories are more varied than most modern police-detective mysteries I've read.

The book itself is well-done: the sepia-toned illustrations complement each piece nicely, the font is simple and stylish, and the book ends with a piece from Smithsonian on the widespread cultish following Holmes has. That following is part of the reason why I thought of Doyle's detective when I itched for a mystery: Isaac Asimov was a devoted Sherlockian, mentioning him in his Widowers stories and writing an essay analyzing Holmes' skills as a chemist.

When I return to the library this week, my first stop will be fiction -- D for "Doyle"!

Pathways

2011-10-12T19:44:00.000-05:00

Star Trek Voyager: Pathways
© 1998 Jeri Taylor
438 pages

Star Trek Pathways throws Voyager's entire bridge crew (save Captain Janeway) into an alien prisoner-of-war camp where tenants are expected to fend for themselves, Andersonville-style. While Commander Chakotay, Commander Tuvok, Lieutenants Paris and Torres, Ensign Kim, Neelix, and Seven establish a shelter for themselves, survive the harsh surroundings, and attempt to find a way out, they tell stories to pass the time -- stories about themselves, the stories of their lives that brought them to Voyager. Because Jeri Taylor helped produce the show, and wrote this novel while Voyager aired, Pathways (and its sister volume, Mosaic) enjoyed the exceptional status of being regarded as canon, if only temporarily.

While the metaplot that holds the stories together isn't much (they build a transporter to escape, ho-hum, but Janeway uses an interesting little trick to guide the group to safety), but the stories themselves deliver more character development than we were able to see on the show. They answer questions -- how did Chakotay and Torres come to join the Maquis? Why did Tuvok enter Starfleet, resign it, and then begin a second career years later? What was the accident that led to Tom Paris' disgrace and imprisonment? -- and add depth to the relationships of the characters, especially Chakotay and Paris. They're introduced as characters with bad blood between them, but Taylor's story shows that this isn't true from Paris' perspective -- it's very well done, especially given how strong the bond between those two is in the Voyager relaunch. Seven doesn't have much of a story to tell -- as she says, "My parents sang 'Happy birthday, Annika. Then the Borg took us." -- so Kes visits Neelix in a dream and tells her story in that way. I didn't like Kes in one of the first episodes I saw her in, so she's never really grown on me -- but even so, I enjoyed her here.

The book would have been most enjoyable during the series' run, but if there are any Voyager fans or readers out there who've not read this one, by all means look for it. Considering the strength of the Voyager relaunch -- it has met universal praise from readers at TrekBBS -- Pathways can still serve as an intro to the characters for those just getting into the series.

Sharpe's Fury

2011-10-12T18:56:00.000-05:00

Sharpe's Fury
© 2006 Bernard Cornwell
337 pages

Winter 1811: most of Spain lies under the flag of the Emperor Napoleon, and the British army has beaten a retreat to a fortified corner of Portugal. Cadiz, the last city of the sovereign Spanish, is under siege. While Richard Sharpe has no business being there, a mission to blow up a bridge right under French noses didn't go exactly as he planned, and he found himself washed down the river following history's wake -- right into Cadiz, where he enters the service of the Duke of Wellington's brother involving a little domestic derring-do. Most book heroes would be content with surviving what Sharpe survives, and more would consider their task done if they manage to do what Sharpe accomplishes by the book's midpoint -- but Sharpe, being Sharpe, manages to get himself involved in a battle where the odds are more against the valiant redcoats than they've ever been.

Bernard Cornwell delivers yet another novel full of action and suspense, with his Napoleonic hero surviving treacherous priests, plots of blackmail, several explosions, the uncertain loyalty of Spanish allies, and a dragoon-filled final battle in which he tracks a nemesis. As mentioned before, I like the books which set Sharpe and his chosen men alone by themselves, and this book offers plenty of that when our favored scoundrel becomes a secret agent of sorts. Fury is another solid hit in this series.

This Week at the Library (12 October)

2011-10-12T14:17:00.000-05:00

After reading several tomes in Will Durant's Story of Civilization series, I'm rather...full of epic history at the moment, particularly religious history, so I returned Christianity: the First Three Thousand Years for some lighter fare. I have three recent reviews waiting to be finished or written: The Lost Hero, Rick Riordan; Sharpe's Fury, Bernard Cornwell; and The Complete Guide to Walking for Health, Fitness, and Weight Loss by Walking Magazine's Mark Fenton.

This week...

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I'm in the mood for mysteries, but I put down a Harry Bosch novel because I'm tired of mysteries that start with corpses. Aren't there any authors who write non-murder mysteries?
The Age of Reason Begins, by Will Durant. It's only 600 pages, practically an airport novel after The Age of Faith and The Reformation....and it begins with Queen Elizabeth, which is promising. Looking forward to the dawn of Science and the Enlightenment.
Active Living Every Day, by...Steven Blair, Andrew L. Dunn, Bess H. Marcus, Ruth Ann Carpenter, and Peter Jaret. I've started getting up early and doing an hour of brisk walking in the mornings, and do another 30 or so minutes in the afternoon. My goal has been to create an active lifestyle to be maintained the rest of my life, and so I'm doing a little reading to educate myself.

I also have The Odyssey.

The Good German

2011-10-07T10:56:00.002-05:00

The Good German
© 2001 Joseph Kanon
512 pages

Berlin, summer 1945. The heart of the most infamous empire in history lies in ruins, battered by bombs and ravaged block by block by Russian artillery. Its contents sacked and its people abused by the victorious Soviet army, nothing remains but rubble, piles of bodies, and broken spirits. The allies of World War 2 are meeting for the Potsdam conference, but such a story is not the reason why reporter Jacob Gesimar has come. Gesimar lived in Berlin years ago, before war forced him to exit, and he visits the sad metropolis not to gloat in victory or take in the spectre like a tourist, but to look for the girl he left behind. In the opening ours of the conference, an American body washes up on a Berlin lakeshore -- the body of a man alive only hours before, who stood beside Gesimar as they flew into Berlin together. One man's death is of no interest to the allies, but Gesimar works to solve the mystery of it by himself -- if nothing else, there's a story to be had.

The Good German is a busy novel, for the man's death is not an isolated incident. More will follow, and as Geismar continues to work his way through an intelligence network of retired Berlin cops and black marketeers, he begins to realize there is a story of international proportions building around him -- the start of another war, and he may perish with its opening shots. The "busy-ness" intensifies throughout the novel: plot twists and general action multiply with every chapter, but Joseph Kanon is spinning another mystery besides, having Gesimar ask more questions: how could the beloved Berlin of his youth have given itself over to be Hitler's capital? How could his neighbors, good people all, become Nazis and willing participants in one of the most horrific exercises in human history, the Holocaust? The questions lie over the setting like a cloud of dust, ever-haunting Jacob and the reader, especially once multiple plot threads converge and those questions become personal.

The Good German is definitely readable: the immediate postwar setting is unique. I don't know of any other novels which take place so soon after the peace: Berlin is literally lying in ruins, and the Allies are only just organizing their occupation. It's depressing, but more depressing is the fact that such savagery could rise in Germany, the land of "poets, thinkers, and storytellers": barbarism from civilization. The novel was best when Jacob grappled with these questions, as he did throughout. The bulk of the novel is its mystery, which turns the novel into an action-thriller by the end, but it grew so complicated that I lost interest. The plot of a novel is almost like a musical piece: there are various elements at work -- some subtle, some obvious -- and pacing is critical. As the plot grows, the number of elements at play multiplies, and a good thriller may read like a jazz piece sounds -- intense, active, exciting. The Good German was so over-busy, though, that it seemed like noise by the time I was finished. I would still recommend it for the reflective aspects, however.

The Union Club Mysteries

2011-10-07T10:31:00.000-05:00

The Union Club Mysteries
© 1987 Isaac Asimov
210 pages

Evening falls in New York City, and inside the aristocratic Union Club, four gentlemen sit ensconced in their usual chairs in the club library. Three talk softly among themselves while a fourth -- an older gentleman with a white, puffy mustache -- seems to doze. But their conversation makes a turn that interests his still-awake ears, his somnolent mind springs to life, and he takes a sip of his scotch and soda. Griswold has awoken, and that last bit of conversation reminds him of a story...

So begin thirty evenings inside the Union Club, wherein Griswold -- formerly in the employ of a shadowy government Department which gave him plentiful opportunities to solve domestic mysteries and international espionage plots -- regales or abuses his dining comrades with a mystery from his life, a story which he expects them to solve by the end. If they do not -- and they never do -- he faithfully explains the solution. Although the setting seems similar to the Black Widowers -- a stag club who meet once a month for conversation and drinks -- Griswold's tales are much shorter, and the appeal of the stories is different. While Black Widowers stories feature the gentlemen discussing literature, science, history, art, and the like in order to find a solution to a given mystery, here the burden is laid entirely upon the reader, and the solution is often more subjective than in a Widower's story. It's a bit like working a crossword puzzle in that in reading, you must try to think like Asimov, to find some odd angle at which to hang the plot. The solution's clue is usually obvious, but the trick is matching Asimov in thinking of why that clue is relevant.

I enjoy little puzzlers like these, and have reading a tale or two at lunch every day since I received the book in the mail. Although the stories aren't nearly as entertaining as the Black Widowers tales, I enjoyed most of the mysteries and even solved a fair few of them. There were a few groaners, but on the whole I'd recommend this to short-mystery or Asimov readers.

The Reformation

2011-10-02T12:59:00.001-05:00

The Reformation: A history of European civilization from Wyclif to Calvin: 1300-1564
© 1957 Will Durant
1025 pages

Although titled as a work of religious history, The Reformation is almost more a continuation of The Age of Faith in covering the final two hundred years of the medieval epoch not just in Europe, but in the Islamic and Turkish worlds as well. For Europe, these are centuries of transition: philosophy and humanism have been gaining in strength, and the old feudal kingdoms are becoming increasingly powerful states with masters who resent the power of the Bishop of Rome over their mutual subjects' lives. The economic revival is well on its way: captialism has already triumphed over feudalism. Soon will come the Enlightenment, the Industrial Revolution, and the dawn of modernity...but first, the tree of liberty shall be fed with the blood of saints and heretics, and the manure of brain-droppings from such personalities as Luther and Calvin.

I have never liked Luther, and I regard Calvin with even cooler regard: their ideas of predestination are miserable, and their Sola Scriptura doctrine has been a heavy fetter upon the necks of European civilization, keeping backs bent in worship of a book that was written, translated, compiled, and published by men of diverse and sometimes objectionable agendas. Though I will admit the Judeo-Christian literature has some wonderful verses in it, there are also a great many horrific ones, ones that deserve to be cast into the dustbin of history. I regard with contempt many arrogant and sadistic claims made by people using this book as their source. Still, I have given these 'gentlemen' a token of gruding respect in that they slew a great tyrant and made it easier for individuals to free themselves. They reduced the power of the Roman church and made religion a local affair: someone could flee John Calvin's psychotic dictatorship in Geneva as easily as going to another Swiss canton -- but before the Reformation, a man condemned by one priest was condemned by all of Europe. However, my reading of The Age of Faith, The Renaissance, and The Reformation has made this view a bit harder to hold. In Durant's history, I have seen the Church consistently pale in influence compared to the rise of absolutist monarchies, powerful economic forces, and intellectual tides that would lead to the Enlightenment. Its continuing moral corruption and game tolerance of humanism made it increasing irrelevant. But then came Luther and Calvin, re-energizing the populace of Europe about religion, and with them the despicable monsters of Puritanism and biblical literalism.

This is a great book in scope, spanning virtually aspect of civilized life: politics, economics, everyday living, religion, music, art, literature, and architecture. Religion is a consistent thread throughout the text, but as I read this seemed to me a book driven by powerful personalities -- Leo X of Rome, Francis I of France, Henry VIII of England, and most of all, Charles V of the Holy Roman Empire. If you ever need to consider Charles V's place in history, look no further than this, The Reformation. Charles' conflicts with Francis and the Roman church essentially create the world of the Reformation -- a world in which Luther was protected by German princes, and his religion used to spark a nationalistic fire in Germany that would allow the Empire to exist completely free of Roman influence -- a feat more easily accomplished by the fact that Germany was never completely conquered by the Roman empire, never Latinized. Teutonic culture never fell before Rome, and Luther gave it a chance to reassert itself and assert its own completely temporal mastery of Europe. The Holy Roman Empire's far-reaching politics appear in almost every chapter of the book. What led to the separation of the Church of England from Rome? Not doctrine -- not Luther, not Calvin -- but politics. Henry's needs of state led him to seek an annulment of his marriage from Katherine of Aragon -- an aunt of Charles. The Pope may have well given that annulment, but at the time he happened to be a prisoner of Charles. Charles isn't going to let the Pope allow his aunt to be divorced, and so Henry simply has to go around the pope's authority. Throughout the tome, religion and politics prove to be fiercely intertwined creatures. Using this book as a source, I might well write a paper on the thesis: no Charles V, no Reformation.

This is a thoroughly impressive history which is ended perfectly by Durant's epilogue, where he assumes the voices of three persons -- a Catholic, a Protestant, and a humanist -- arguing with one another over the virtues and failings of the Reformation.

Walking with Dinosaurs

2011-09-28T20:51:00.000-05:00

Walking with Dinosaurs: A Natural History
© 1999 Tim Haines
288 pages

A dull pre-dawn light spreads across the horizon, illuminating a landscape covered in forest. Rivers trace silvery lines through the dense vegetation, and along their banks icy puddles are melting. It is the beginning of spring at the South Pole.

Take a trip into another world, a world perfectly alien yet somehow familiar -- a world like Earth, but without ice caps, with a surface covered by massive ferns and an endless variety of strangely beautiful and terrifying creatures, the dinosaurs. For 160 million years these great beasts were the dominant species, as ubiquitous as we mammals are today -- but 65 million years ago, their time on Earth came to a terrifying end. Tim Haines walks us through their lives, from the appearance of the first small dinos (220 MYA) to their end. As they rose to rule, the Earth changed beneath their feet, Pangaea giving way to the familiar arrangements of continents we know today. The result is a fascinating and visually stunning work reminiscent of David Attenborough's The Lives of series.

After a short introduction in which Haines makes general observations about dinosaur evolution and the problems inherent in attempting to piece together their behavior, our tour of the past is divided into six sections, spanning from the Triassic (dawn of the dinosaurs) to the late Cretaceous, which is home to familiar beasties like the Tyrannosaurus Rex and the Triceratops. In between, nearly every species of dinosaur familiar to pop culture is mentioned, with the odd exception of velocioraptors, who became so popular after the release of Jurassic Park. Each setting focuses on a local ecosystem, and begins by introducing the climate and our players. We then follow the various species of dinosaurs through a year, season , or even an entire lifecycle.

Most of the text is presented as a documentary -- based partly in fact, partly in inference, and partly on reasonable guesses. The author mentions that one species of flying dinosaurs spent most of its life riding on the backs of a larger species: in the introduction, he points out that this is completely speculative, as barring time-travel it's not as though we could witness such an event, nor are fossil records likely to comment on interspecies relations. Set off in large blocks throughout the chapters are sections which are strictly scientific, explaining the contributions of a particular geological formation, or commenting on the evolution of birds. Visually, Walking with Dinosaurs is stunning -- a marvel. The quality is astounding for a work done in 1999: the pictures look like photographs, and the creatures aren't merely flat inserts in a background. Somehow they have been modeled in such a way as to appear real, as though they were looking the reader in the eye as he gazes in wonder at their size, their form, their coloration -- such savage power and grace! Haines and the visual artists have truly made the world of the Mesozoic come alive with incredible detail, and I'd recommend this easily to anyone interested in dinosaurs -- especially readers who have children.

Related:
New dinosaurs label (retroactively applied to Dinosaur Lives by Jack Horner, as well as Michael Crichton's two novels.)

This Week at the Library (28 January)

2011-09-28T16:20:00.000-05:00

This past week has mostly been about The Reformation, which I am 2/3rds of the way through. It started out strong (The Age of Faith, part 2), but boy -- hundreds of pages about fanatics screaming at and killing each other gets tiresome quickly. Happily I'm now in jolly old England, where Henry VIII's third wife has just died in child birth and he's looking for lucky number four.

I'm also an asteroid's throw from finishing off Walking with Dinosaurs. We're in the Cretaceous.

Today at the library, I picked up...

The Odyssey, translated by E.V. Rieu and illustrated by John Flaxman. I read The Illiad a few weeks back, so this seemed appropriate. It's sort of low priority, though, because I've got The Reformation to finish.
Christianity: the First Three Thousand Years, Diarmaid MacCulloch. This is a Really Big Book that I have no business picking up while I'm busy with The Reformation, but I keep wanting to read it and so I decided to bring it home with me today.
Sharpe's Fury, Bernard Cornwell. Obviously I'll be wanting some leisure reading at some point, if only to get relief from the constant murderous frenzy of the Reformation.
annnnnd The Good German, by Joseph Kanon, because Germany's national day is coming up soonish and I want to do some appropriate reading. I meant to do some German-related reading last year, but forgot the date I was looking for. I didn't want to read a book about World War 2, but hang me if almost every book in my library isn't about the Nazis or the Holocaust or some other similar subject. I have a little book on the German Empire I could read, I suppose, but in the end I decided to look for a novel set in Germany and found this, the story of an American journalist who looks for his old German sweetheart in postwar Berlin. Next year I'll use the internet to look for some better German reading -- something set in the Weimar years, say.

I also have three books in the post, though none of them are from my 'books of interest' list. I won one in a contest, and the other two are a couple of rare Asimov paperbacks that surfaced on eBay and Amazon while I was fishing for copies of The Roman Republic and The Roman Empire. One of them is a collection of mysteries which I am quite looking forward to.

And to end, a quotation.

For hundreds of years, he pointed out, men had debated free will, predestination, heaven and hell, Christ and the Trinity, and other difficult matters; no agreement had been reached; probably none would ever be reached. But none is necessary, said Castellio; such disputes do not make men better; all that we need is to carry the spirit of Christ into our daily lives, to feed the poor, help the sick, and love even our enemies. It seemed to him ridiculous that all the new sects, as well as the old Church, should pretend to absolute truth and make their creeds obligatory on those over whom they had physical power; as a result a man would be orthodox in one city, and become a heretic by entering another; he would have to change his religion, like his money, at each frontier. Can we imagine Christ ordering a man to be burned alive for ordering adult baptism? [...] What a tragedy (he concluded) that those who had so lately freed themselves from the terrible Inquisition should so soon imitate its tyranny, should so soon force men back into Cimmerian darkness after so promising a dawn!

p. 486, The Reformation. Will Durant.

Discourses and Enchiridon

2011-09-27T17:27:00.002-05:00

Discourses and Enchiridon, Epictetus
© 1967, translated W.A. Oldfather

Stoicism might be introduced to the lay reader as Buddhism for the west. Students of Stoicism often take inspiration from Buddhist philosophy, given the common emphasis on mindfulness and freedom from desire. The original teachings of Stoicism have been lost to history, but modern students may rely on the works of its later students -- particularly, Roman authors like Marcus Aurelius, Seneca, Musonius Rufus, and Epictetus. Aurelius and Epictetus are our greatest sources for Stoic thought, but despite the fact that I've been a student of Stoicism since 2008, I've never given his works a proper reading beyond Sharon Lebell's interpretation of his Handbook (Enchiridon), The Art of Living.

The Discourses are more substantial than the Meditations of Aurelius or Lebell's handbook: while those two are collections of short aphorisms, sayings, and thoughts, the Discourses consist of lectures and dialogues collected one of his students. In addition to lecturing on detachment, self-discipline, and the pursuit of virtue, Epictetus also works through basic logic with his students. Someone completely new to Stoicism might be better off reading William Irvine's A Guide to the Good Life, which introduces the philosophy to modern audiences, but it's still accessible to newcomers. Epictetus' central idea is that there's essentially two types of things in life: that which we control, and that which we can't. We can't control what happens (either around us or to us), or what other people do -- but we can control our reaction, and this is the important matter. To the Stoics, the only good is virtue: it is its own reward as well as its own mandate, meaning that virtuous behavior is wise behavior and wise behavior recommends itself. Epictetus' emphasis on detachment is notable: for him, the body is literally just a vessel which his spirit is being carried around in, and it matters not to him whether that vessel is broken or burned. It gives him self-assurance in the face of threats of physical violence. He is very much the teacher, constantly advising his students to train their will, and often making allusions to physical training. In this translation Epictetus comes off as a sarcastic old cuss with a no-nonsense attitude who emphasizes the importance of putting philosophy into practice, not just studying it.

Epictetus' voice has been a sobering source of strength in the past few weeks as I read through it, and I recommend this collection to students of philosophy.

Marcus Aurelius

2011-09-27T09:06:00.001-05:00

Marcus Aurelius: A Life
© 2009 Frank McLynn
684 pages

Few figures in history can compare to Marcus Aurelius, and fewer still favorably. Adopted into the royal family, this last of the Five Good Emperors has sat in silent judgment of politicians for over fifteen hundred years, his life a standing reproach to their selfishness and indulgence. In the opinion of biographer Frank McLynn, he remains the greatest of Rome's leaders despite the limitations of his reign. In Marcus Aurelius: A life, McLynn examines the life of this dour philosopher-king as it played out in the late second century -- a time of great wars, famine, and pestilence that demanded a leader of a great character. Such was Aurelius.

This biography is outstanding for its thoroughness, examining the full context of Aurelius' life. The story of the Roman emperor is the story of Rome, and this biography could serve just as well to educate someone on the late 2nd-century Empire as it would on the emperor himself. McLynn offers lengthy treatments of Rome's economic status and deterioration, its history of relations with the German tribes and reviving Parthian empire, and of course an exploration of Stoicism, where McLynn compares Aurelius' influences and contributions as a philosopher. After the death of the emperor, the focus shifts to his enduring legacy -- to the black mark on his record left by allowing his wretched son Commodus to succeed to the throne, to the literary influences of the Meditations throughout the centuries.

McLynn is both sympathetic and critical of his subject. While not a fan of Stoicism -- he criticizes its emphasis on detachment even from family members as inhuman -- McLynn clearly admires the standards the emperor set for himself as a leader and a man. He has a somber respect for Aurelius, who seems like something of a tragic, but great figure: an Atlas who takes the burden of the world on his shoulders, even though he'd rather be reading, but never complains about it. Aurelius is the model of composure and self-discipline, always counseling himself to take the failures of others in stride, but pushing himself to grow beyond his own.

If you are interested in Aurelius, I heartily recommend this book -- especially notable for its context -- but a five-part lecture on him that is available on YouTube. I have them arranged in a playlist you should be able to access here. If not, the first video is here.

Top Ten Books I Want to Re-Read

2011-09-27T08:32:00.000-05:00

This week, the Broke and the Bookish are musing over books they'd like to re-read.

1. The Black Widowers Series, Isaac Asimov
(Tales of the Black Widowers, More Tales of the Black Widowers, Casebook of the Black Widowers, Banquets of the Black Widowers, Puzzles of the Black Widowers, and Return of the Black Widowers.)

Isaac Asimov is my very favorite author, and a few years ago I found a mystery series he'd penned while browsing in the library. The setting is a gentlemen's social club, which meets in a downtown New York restaurant every month for drinks, dinner, stimulating conversation -- and a mystery. The club calls itself the Black Widowers society, and they never intended to get into the mystery business -- but every month they invite a visitor, and every month (oddly enough) that visitor manages to intentionally or accidently present them with a puzzle to think through. Intellectuals and artists, they ask probing questions and rely on both their collective knowledge and a series of reference books. The solution sometimes relies on literary, historical, or scientific information, but it's always there for the reader to grasp -- if only he can think of it before the Widowers' gentleman waiter Henry can. I love the series and spent more money on books than usual just so I could have the complete set. If I happen to be having dinner alone for whatever reason, I like to go and fetch a Widowers book so I can enjoy dinner with Asimov's sleuths. It doesn't matter to me that I've read a given story so many times I know the solution: I enjoy their conversation and the way they work through things. The discussion ranges everywhere from the sciences to humanities to popular culture, so it's a treat for someone who's a regular visitor to every part of the library like myself.

2. The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis, Max Shulman.

I do love this collection of tales concerning a cocky, brilliant, and charming college student who is always getting himself into trouble, usually over girls.

3. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, J.K. Rowling
Why?

"Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business."
"Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git."
"Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor."
"Mr. Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball."

It's better if you know the context, obviously.

4. Where the Red Fern Grows, Wilson Rawls

I remember being read this story in elementary school. It was one of the most depressing but touching books I'd ever heard, because I was so attached to dogs myself. Heaven knows why I want to read a book that's just going to reduce me to blubbering like a toddler in need of a nap, but it's been such a long time. (If you've never read it, it's about a boy who works hard to buy two coon dogs (Old Dan and Little Ann), and they become inseperable companions until...bad things happen.

5. The Pigman, Paul Zindel

It's been an awfully long time since I've read this tragic story about two troubled teenagers who befriend a lonely old man.

6. Too Good to be Forgotten, David Obst

This is a memoir of growing up in the 1960s, which I read in 2006 and remember fondly.

7. Redwall, Brian Jacques

This is the book which inspired a series, this novel is a fantasy adventure story of a large rat who leads and army of vermin against a abbey of peaceful woodland creatures defended by a badger, a funny old rabbit, and a legendary warrior with a sword forged from a stone from the heavens. It's sort of like Lord of the Rings, but there's no magic.

8. The Grapes of Wrath, John Steinbeck

I read this back in 2001 (starting on 11 September, actually), but only for an American literature class. Now I would read it because it is the kind of book I'd be interested in: one with a social message that focuses on salt-of-the-earth people.

9. Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors, Carl Sagan

I bought this book last year (or the year before...) with the express purpose of re-reading it, but I've not quite gotten around to that. If I remember correctly, it's Sagan's anthropological work and concerns human evolution.

10. Disaster! The Great San Francisco Earthquake and Fire of 1906, Dan Kurzman

I read this years ago (2004, 2005?) from my home library, but when I decided to re-read it I found the book had been discarded or lost. I wound up buying a similarly-titled book and enjoying it well enough, but it wasn't this one. To be honest, I'm not positive this is The Book, since I wasn't keeping a log back then...but the title makes me sure enough to look for used copies online.

Sharpe's Escape

2011-09-24T17:56:00.001-05:00

"Lieutenant Slingsby," the Colonel said, "tells me that you insulted him. That you invited him to duel. That you called him illegitimate. That you swore at him."
Sharpe cast his mind back to the brief confrontation on the ridge's forward slope just after he had pulled the company out of the French panic. "I doubt I called him illegitimate, sir," he said. "I wouldn't use that sort of word. I probably called him a bastard."

p. 135,136.

1810: the Iberian Peninsula. Britain's attempt to defeat the French in Spain has failed, and for the mment they are retreating into Portugal. To Wellington, the rereat is a strategtic withdrawal: as the British army seeks safe shelter behind concealed fortifications protecting Lisbon, they leave nothing but a scorched and barren wasteland, purpously destroying food stores as they go. The French, advancing further into enemy territory, are finding themselves in a desolate wilderness, contending with a hostile population who harry there every move. Soon they will see Wellington's secret battle-lines, and be forced to engage the British in ruinous battle or face a cold winter's occupation in a dead land where the only thing living are angry partisans.

Alas, poor Richard Sharpe's position is not so secure. Temporarily relieved of command to give an aristocratic lieutenant a chance to gain battlefield experience, Sharpe is assigned as quartermaster and finds himself locked in a cellar, trapped behind enemy lines as part of a running feud with two very nasty Portugese traitors. It's not enough that his long-time superior officer and friend seems to be throwing him under the bus, career-wise, but Sharpe can't seem to avoid getting into one tight fix after another. His and Harper's story is a havoc-filled run to safety that should mark the end of Wellington's retreat and the beginning of the campaigns that will take Sharpe into France and to ultimate victory.

Enjoyable as expected: next will be Sharpe's Fury

The Red Pyramid

2011-09-24T17:18:00.000-05:00

For centuries the gods of Egypt have been removed from the Earth, imprisoned by human magicians in an attempt to put an end to their destructive inter-deity conflicts. But shortly before Christmas, in the British Museum, an archaeologist ended their long exile in an attempt to save the cosmos from ultimate destruction. Freed from the Duat, the shadowy netherworld, five gods -- Osiris, Isis, Horus, Set, and Nepthys -- found new homes in human hosts. Now, their strength growing, the battle between Maat (order, justice, peace) and Chaos could very well destroy the Earth. In the center of this growing storm are two young people, long-separated siblings who become orphans when they lose their father in the opening pages. They will play a pivotal role in the battle to come.

The Red Pyramid begins the Kane Chronicles, Rick Riordian's second fantasy series. While his Percy Jackson and the Olympians brought the Greek gods to life, The Red Pyramid moves to the land of Egypt. Although the essential story is the same -- the god of chaos and death is being naughty, human children who unwittingly possess great divine power are thrown into conflict with him, they brave peril and sarcastic deities to save the Earth from ruin, and.....find out whoops, there's an even bigger threat in the shadows -- the exotic splendor of Egyptian mythology sets The Red Pyramid firmly on its own feet, and even adds to the original Greek series. The Egyptian gods are a fascinating lot, a mixture of familiar human forms and severe predator heads, like falcons and alligators. As alien and exotic as these beings may appear to western readers, the dualistic worldview in which they are grounded will seem familiar: the gods strive to preserve or destroy Ma'at, the cosmic sense of order and justice, against the forces of chaos. This doesn't quite correspond to the good vs. evil view of western society, but it is similar -- and more sensible, from an outside standpoint. Even to a mostly secular mind like mine, our life's energy is poured into the fight against entropy: we create works of art and organized long-lived societies to fight the universal tendency of decay. The conflict of The Red Pyramid thus seems more fundamental than the family squabble between gods and titans that gave the Olympians series its overall arc.

Though the story is mostly familiar, I enjoyed the new setting and characters and will be reading further in the series as I am able. Riordan's odd sense of humor was also a high point.

Booking through Thursday: In Public

2011-09-22T06:58:00.000-05:00

Booking through Thursday asks: Do you carry books with you when you’re out and about in the world?
And, do you ever try to hide the covers?

If I'm caught without a book, it was an accident -- as I keep books in my car and usually remember to grab one on my way out of the house in case I am caught in a traffic jam or stuck waiting on an appointment. While living at university I always had some leisure reading in my backpack, and even if I just went outside for a stroll around campus I took a book with me; ideal reading spots always chanced to catch my attention. If none of my friends were present in the dining hall, I enjoyed my meal with a book -- and often spent my time between classes or during slow periods at work reading. Even when I worked in a factory, I kept a book in my lunch bag to enjoy during the middle of the day -- a welcome respite after hours of monotonous assembly-line work.

As for hiding covers...well, there was a Max Shulman book I purchased with an illustrated cover. I didn't realize this until I was reading at work, but one of the figures on the cover was a nude woman with very colorful...cheeks. Fortunately I spotted that before my boss did, heh.

Dhammapada

2011-09-21T05:24:00.001-05:00

Yesterday I drove to the state capital, Montgomery, and while there visited the main branch library. I noticed they offered several versions of the Dhammapada, one of the oldest and most accessible portions of Buddhist scripture. It contains some 400+ verses; short aphorisms on the way of enlightenment. Compasssion, self-discipline, and meditation are mainstay themes of the verses. The wisdom expressed here is universal: you don't need an education in Buddhism to grasp the essential messages. On the off chance that you are utterly and completely ignorant as to what Buddhism is about, this translation comes with an introduction that sets things in context and is fully annotated to explain themes in Buddhist thought, or references to Indian culture those outside it might miss. The authors also occasionally include quotations from other Buddhist sources (other works, as well as living teachers like the Dalai Lama), separated from the main text, so that readers may examine a theme from multiple angles. The combined result is a great success. When I decide to purchase a copy of the Dhammapada for future reference and inspiration, this will be the version I will look for.

Teaser Tuesday (20 September)

2011-09-20T00:00:00.002-05:00

Today I snuck into the children's section of the library to pick up a Riordian number, and while in the R's noticed a book I'd not seen before. Naturally I checked it out and read it at lunch, giggling the entire way through. A couple of teasers --

'...and Wee Willykins kissed and huggled the hoppity pot and promised always to help the dollies and never to be an old grumpy-wumpkins again.'
Mrs. Bloxam's tale has met the same response from generations of Wizarding children: uncontrollable retching, followed by an immediate demand to have the book taken from them and mashed into pulp.

p. 39, Tales of Beedle the Bard. (J.K. Rowling, "Albus Dumbledore")

This exchange marked the beginning of Mr. Malfoy's long campaign to have me removed from my post as headmaster of Hogwarts, and of mine to have him removed from his position as Lord Voldemort's Favorite Death Eater. My response prompted several further letters from Mr. Malfoy, but as they consisted mainly of opprobrious remarks on my sanity, parentage, and hygiene, their relevance to this commentary is remote.

p. 42, Tales of Beedle the Bard. (J.K. Rowling, "Albus Dumbledore")

Tales of Beedle the Bard

2011-09-19T14:00:00.004-05:00

"Translated from the ancient runes by Hermione Granger.

Commentary by Albus Dumbledore

Introduction, Notes, and Illustrations by J.K. Rowling"

If the end of the Harry Potter story this summer has left you sad, this charming little collection of stories set in-universe will bring a smile to your face. Mentioned in The Deathly Hallows, the book was 'defictionalized' as part of a charity drive, along with Quidditch through the Ages and Fantastic Beasts. Alas, there are only five stories included, but each is followed by commentary from Albus Dumbledore, who comments on the story's meaning and legacy with his usual wise and gentle wit. The commentary is not only amusing, but it fleshes out the wizarding world all the more for fans of the series. Any and all fans of the Harry Potter series should enjoy this little collection of heart-warming fairy tales from a world where magic actually exists.

This Week at the Library (14 September)

2011-09-14T17:11:00.000-05:00

This week at the library...

I'll be finishing a biography of Marcus Aurelius, as well as the Discourses and Handbook of Epictetus. As it turns out, reading them together gives me a complementary experience, as Epictetus's philosophy inspired Marcus' own, and the author of the biography spends time comparing and contrasting the two.

At the library, I picked up:

Sharpe's Escape, Bernard Cornwell
The Reformation, Will Durant. Considering my current study of Anglicanism, I'm actually looking forward to this one despite my usual abhorrence of theology.
I also picked up Walking with Dinosaurs, because I needed something science-y. That Physics Made Simple book turns out to require knowledge of trigonometry which I don't have. Alas.

Sharpe's Gold

2011-09-14T08:50:00.002-05:00

Napoleon triumphant! Spain is lost, defended only by partisans fighting a 'little war' -- and Britain's peninsular foothold in Portugal is teetering on the edge of an abyss: the army is right out of money. Desperate, Sir Arthur Wellington contracts the indomitable Captain Richard Sharpe for a little productive mischief: he's to sneak behind French lines and 'borrow' a pile of gold stashed in a partisan-held held down. The plan is simple, and of course must go the way of all simple plans: right down the toilet. When a key member of Sharpe's party disappears beneath the blades of French lancers, Sharpe is forced to improvise. Of course, improvisation is Mr. Sharpe's specialty.

The plot has the usual staples of a Sharpe novel: adventure, betrayal, romance (for Sharpe), and a dramatic ending. Compared to some of Cornwell's other dazzling plots, this one would not stand out were it not for what it reveals about the relationship between Sharpe and Wellington, and the character of Sharpe himself. According to Wikipedia, this was Cornwall's second novel, but it establishes and drives home the fact that there is a special link between Wellington and Sharpe: the highborn general may not like Sharpe, but he knows the rifleman can accomplish the impossible. Wellington trusts Sharpe, and Sharpe's refusal to court failure sees him make a staggering decision that shows how resolute a man he can be. This is a man who will take on a force of nearly a thousand with only 53 men -- and that's only the beginning of the story. At the same time part of Sharpe's strength seems to derive from a faith in Wellington. Though not friends, they are titans, working hand in hand to defeat one of the greatest figures in western history. I for one am looking forward to seeing the rest of their journey.

Next time: Sharpe's Escape.

Top Ten Books from Other Blogs

2011-09-12T23:25:00.001-05:00

This week the Broke and the Bookish are discussing books which they encountered first through other blogs and bloggers.

1. Sharpe's Eagle, Bernard Cornwell

Reccommended to me by Cyberkitten of Seeking a Little Truth, this novel introduced me to the Napoleonic action hero, Richard Sharpe.

2. Persian Fire, Tom Holland

Suggested to me by the Resolute Reader after I read Holland's Rubicon, chronicling the collapse of the Roman Republic. Persian Fire looks at an earlier period in history, at the rise of Persia, its conflict with Greece, and the growth of Zoroastrianism which would come to influence the Abrahamic religions.

3. The Lightening Thief, Rick Riordian

Recommended to me by Baley of the Reader's Book Blog. I later read the entire series, enjoying it all the way.

4. Parasite Rex, Carl Zimmer

Imagine a world where parasites control the minds of their hosts, sending them to their destruction.Imagine a world where parasites are masters of chemical warfare and camouflage, able to cloak themselves with their hosts' own molecules.Imagine a world where parasites steer the course of evolution, where the majority of species are parasites.Welcome to earth.

Reccommended to me by Neurovore of Neurovore's Nuclear News Network, or N^4. Hoo boy, was this an eye-opener. You have no idea how wondrously terrifying and disgusting life can be until you've read about the life cycle of parasites.

5. The Age of Absurdity, Michael Foley

I only heard of this book through Cyberkitten, and read it back in January. I haven't reviewed it yet, because -- like The Sane Society -- it comments on so much that I feel hard-pressed to do it justice. The essential idea is that we have created societies which not only fail to meet our needs, but often run counter to them.

6. The Handmaid's Tale, Margaret Atwood

Cover source

Neurovore again. This is a dystopian novel set in a nightmare future in which crazy Christians have taken over the United States and created a society based on the Hebrew scriptures -- complete with the total subjugation of women. Considering the Republican Party's current offerings, perhaps we should read it in preparation.

7. The Blank Slate, Stephen Pinker

...Neurovore. This one takes on various misconceptions about human psychology, including the idea that we are born 'blank slates' who act from cultural conditioning only, and not instinct, and the concept that we are born 'good' and then corrupted by the artificial construct of society. It's a naturalistic approach to psychology and neuroscience: quite refreshing.

8. The Magicians, Lev Grossman

Reviewed by Joy of Joy's Blog. Its cover caught my attention, but the book is stunning. It's sort of a realistic, cynical take on Harry Potter-style fantasy.

9. Into the Wild, Jon Krakauer

Suggested to me by Baley, this is the story of a young man who lost his life while trying to find himself.

10. Nemesis, Isaac Asimov

This is tagged 'reccommended to me', so someone reccommended it to me. (Hence the tag, "reccommended to me.") I don't know of many people who would know Nemesis, so I am going to take a guess and say that it was Cyberkitten's doing.

Teaser Tuesdayish (13 September)

2011-09-12T20:45:00.002-05:00

Well, it's Tuesday in most of the world. Time for a teaser, then. Or three.

"Get him out, sir? There's two regiments there!"
"So? That's only eight hundred men. There are fifty-three of us."

p. 64, Sharpe's Gold. Bernard Cornwell.

Hogan, he thought, was right. If a miracle were needed to save the campaign, and it was, then the rogue he had just seen was the best man for the job. More than a rogue: a fighter, and a man who looked on failure as unthinkable. But a rogue, thought Wellington, a damned rogue all the same.

p. 31, Sharpe's Gold. Bernard Cornwell.

Suppose I should say to a wrestler, 'Show me your muscle'. And he should answer me, 'See my dumb-bells'. Your dumb-bells are your own affair; I want to see the effect of them.
"Take the treatise 'On Choice', and see how thoroughly I have perused it.
I am not asking about this, O slave, but how you act in choosing and refusing, how you manage your desires and aversions, your intentions and purposes, how you meet events -- whether you are in harmony with nature's laws or opposed to them. If in harmony, give me evidence of that, and I will say you are progressing; if the contrary, you may go your way, and not only comment on your books, but write some like them yourself; and what good will it do you?

p. 13-14. The Discourses, book four ("On Progress"). Epictetus.

The Renaissance

2011-09-12T20:21:00.000-05:00

I assumed the Renaissance would be a high point of this series for me, second only to The Age of Reason. After a thousand years of dogma and depressing piety, at last returns the classical world and the revival of its philosophy and art! Instead, most of The Renaissance focuses on the politics of various Italian city states -- in great detail -- and their rivalries with one another. I grew bored of this very sharp focus after a few hundred pages, but aside from occasional commentaries on art history, it dominates the book. There are a few scant chapters with a more general view (one on the hilarious schism years, with various popes and antipopes running around; another on Italy's conquest at the hands of various European powers, most notably France, Spain, and the Holy Roman Empire) , and scores of mini-biographies, but the predominant theme of The Renaissance is petty politics. It may be most useful as an introduction to The Reformation, as its two-century history see the authority and power of the Vatican evaporated away by moral corruption, political machinations, and finally invasions of Italy which compromise its sovereignty. While it is heartening to see people turn away from stultifying medieval piety and return to attempting to make the most of this life, in the Renaissance that shift manifests itself in merchant-princes turned dictators constantly fighting with one another and sponsoring art to praise themselves. I'm still holding out for the good stuff in The Age of Reason, which I assume covers the Enlightenment.

Given its radical shift in focus from the broad (thousand-year epochs spanning multiple continents) to the narrow ( two centuries in one peninsula), The Renaissance is quite a bit different from the rest of the books in this series. I imagine it is a worthy read for someone interested in Italian politics, but I had hoped for a broader story and made my way through these two centuries somewhat unenthusiastically.

Selected quotations:

‎"The lives of great men oft remind us that a man's character can be formed after his demise. If a ruler coddles the chroniclers about him they may lift him to posthumous sanctity; if he offends him they may broil his corpse on a spit of venom or roast him to darkest infamy in a pot of ink."

Will Durant, p. 391

"The sun does not move....the earth is not in the center of the circle of the sun, nor in the center of the universe."

- Leonardo da Vinci, , quoted on page 122.

Your Faith, Your Life

2011-09-12T11:36:00.000-05:00

Last week the associate rector of the local Episcopal church in town was kind enough to lend me this introduction to the American branch of Anglicanism, containing information on Episcopal beliefs, history, organization, sacraments, as more. It answered a great many of my questions, and so I would recommend it to others curious about what Anglicanism is -- though the book is written primarily toward those interested in converting or taking the faith more seriously. To that end, the authors include questions which readers are encouraged to ask themselves and reflect on. I imagine much of the information contained inside would be useful even to cradle Episcopalians, like its explanations of the Book of Common Prayer. The faith explored here is one rich in tradition, yet lovably progressive: in a section on spiritual practices, the authors include meditation-like contemplative prayer and Buddhist mandalas along with more conventional Christian practices like the rosary, and a section on the sacrament of marriage persistently refers to "two people" instead of defaulting to heteronormative language, making it clear where they stand on the issue of gay marriage. I am growing increasingly fond of this branch of Christianity, which seems like the lovechild of Catholicism and Unitarian Universalism.

The Illiad

2011-09-08T23:27:00.001-05:00

The Illiad is one of the oldest and most celebrated works of literature of western civilization: a classic among classics, no world literature class would be complete without it. It is part of the western heritage; from it come phrases like "Trojan horse." Yet, being a classic, it may intimidate some readers, especially given its form as epic poetry. Barbara Leonie Picard's interpretation of it into a prose should make this lovely piece of western history open to a wider audience, especially considering her introduction and epilogue, and the use of bronze and gold plate illustrations which hearken to ancient Greek pottery.

The story is set during the Trojan War, a decade-long conflict between the city-states of Greece and the state of Troy and its allies. The feud has its roots in mythology, with Paris -- a young prince of Troy -- judging a beauty contest of goddesses and being rewarded with the queen of Sparta, Helen, as his bride. Since Helen is already married to Menelaus, this causes something of a problem -- and the Greeks invade Troy, where they lay siege for ten years. The Illiad is a story of men and pride, for the pride of two Greek warriors divides their army and weakens their cause. It begins when King Agamemnon, leader of the Greek alliance, seizes a woman who Achilles -- the greatest Greek warrior --took as a war prize. Achilles is outraged by Agamemnon's arrogance. He abandons the fight and prays to his mother -- the goddess Thetis -- to ask Zeus to turn the war against Agamemnon, and as the days progress many a Greek will die.

The official author of The Illiad is a 'blind poet' named Homer. In truth, we do not know when the story arose and it is probably the work of multiple generations, the story expanding with every retelling -- for this is an ancient story, one originally passed on orally. "The use of gods as active characters in the story bears witness to its age: Zeus, Athena, Apollo, and others are not mere background forces, but take an active but sometimes unseen role on the battlefield. They deflect spears and arrows, cast mists to prevent foes from seeing one another, and directly assault the players. Although Zeus -- supporting the Trojans -- forbids his children from taking part, Athena never abandons her beloved Greeks, and Apollo does not forsake the Trojans. Sometimes the gods work against one another: when a river-god tries to drown Achilles for his arrogance, Hephaestus creates fires to keep the water away.

The Illiad captivated me: although I am familiar with the general story, I have never read it properly and so experienced the feud in full. The relationship between Achilles and the two princes of Troy especially interested me: Paris is a despicable character, and it amused me greatly to see Hector reliably addressing him as "Most wretched brother". The story is far fairer to Hector than I anticipated: he is almost as noble here as when he was portrayed by Eric Bana in Troy, though his behavior at Patroclus' death made me think his corpse's being dragged around the city every day at dawn was something of a just dessert. Perhaps the most striking element of the book is its emphasis on individual heroism: these men are not selfless soldiers of Greece; they fight for glory and reputation. At the same time, there is a bond between them -- and sometimes pride bowed before that camaraderie.

Rarely have I been more entertained by a classic: if you ever have an interest or a need to visit the Illiad, I would suggest looking for this translation. It is commendable.

Thank You:
I wrote this in a state of drag-induced stupor, as I think my doctor has my dosage set a wee bit too high. Special thanks to my friend Jon for proofreading to correct small mistakes my now-blurry vision didn't catch, as well as making sure I didn't type anything completely nonsensical as I tend to do in the hours following one of my pills.

The Big Rock Candy Mountain

2011-09-08T08:40:00.002-05:00

"The frontier is closed", declared the US census board in 1890. The boundless west has been fenced in and taken, but Bo Mason isn't satisfied to believe it. There must be opportunities for the seizing, rich and virgin soil still yet unplowed. Somewhere, there must be a place where a man of strength and wiles such as himself can get in on the ground floor and make a killing. Driven by this insatiable lust for quick prosperity, Bo roams North America for thirty years pursuing the dream and dragging his family along behind him through peril and poverty. The result is a magnificent, emotionally-demanding character drama and a glorious portrait of the wild, untamed west. Like Grapes of Wrath, it won't leave anyone with a case of the warm fuzzies -- but it's as real and visceral a human story as I've ever read.

The dominating character of Big Rock Candy Mountain is the ever-intense Bo Mason, a man who radiates with energy. His soul forged by an abusive childhood, he distrusts others and refuses to be bound by any other man's chains: strong and intelligent, he seeks to create his own bounty. His forceful personality means that he consumes the book without being its main character. This is a story told mostly by Bo's wife, Elsa, and later his son Bruce -- but despite their own strengths as characters, Bo looms large over their lives. At first, his wild individuality makes him a sympathetic character, but as the decades pass that youthful rootlessness and his temper become more damaging than inspiring -- and they affect not only him, but his family as well. The novel's tension comes from Elsa and Bruce's attempts to grapple with Bo's influence in their lives: Elsa is utterly selfless and longsuffering, seeing through Bo's childishness to the man inside, while Bruce struggles with hatred toward his father, a man who can't seem to grow up and learn the value of endurance.

While the struggle between these characters makes for a fantastic read all on its own, the environment and prose are also outstanding. Stegner has a rare authenticity, and his descriptions of the American west and Canadian wilderness made me long for a home near the mountains -- to look out the window of a big ranch house and see wind-swept fields, a bright, bubbling brook, and stern green trees set against a dazzling blue sky. There's such a vividness to his descriptions. and the environment isn't so much as a piece of background scenery as almost a character itself, something the Masons live with and must often persevere over.

Big Rock Candy Mountain isn't a happy story, and the ending chapters are heart-wrenching to anyone who develops a concern for the character. It forces the reader to deal with Bo, just as Elsa and Bruce do: is he a wretch? What does he deserve, our wrath or our pity? I still don't know. This was such an intense novel that two weeks later, its questions still hang over my head.

Do experience this if you can.

The Feather Merchants

2011-09-08T08:24:00.000-05:00

Sergeant Dan Miller, supply clerk extraordinaire, is home on furlough -- and leave to him to get into more trouble in one night than he's found in months of service during the greatest war in history. It all started when he and his best buddy Sam strolled into a local tavern and had a little too much to drink and start making slurred speeches in Elizabethean English which *slightly* dramatize Dan's role in the war so far. By the time he crawls out, Dan has bought a car, possibly gotten engaged, and is scheduled to single-handedly blow up a bridge in town to commemorate the opening of Minneapolis' munitions plant. Oops.

The Feather Merchants is an absurdist drama in which poor Miller is railroaded into the trap of having to meet impossible expectations. He tries and tries to get out of it, but of course he can't -- the city of Minneapolis expects their local hero to do his duty and blow that bridge by himself. So he commits to doing it, and of course nothing goes to plan. It goes fantastically horrific, actually. It's a kind of sitcom plot, but funny all the same. As in some other Shulman works, the humor lies not in the plotting but in the writing: characters launch into bizarre speeches which have nothing to do with anything at all (or so you think) and leave the main character frustrated at their uselessness, and the dialogue is...well, 'zany'. There's also much bawdiness.

As usual, something of a riot.

Booking through Thursday: Queue

2011-09-08T08:00:00.001-05:00

Booking through Thursday asks:
What are you reading now?
Would you recommend it?
And what’s next?

I'm nibbling at several books at the moment: Will Durant's The Renaissance, which is thus far just about Italian city-state politics; The Illiad, interpreted into prose by Barbara Leone Picard; Marcus Aurelius: A Life, by Frank McLynn; Sharpe's Gold by Bernard Cornwell; and the Discourses by Epictetus. How on earth am I trying this much at once? Well...I'm taking a devotional approach to the Discourses, reading a chapter or two a night; I read Sharpe's Gold for leisure, and I alternate between the others when it is time for my serious reading. I know I need to commit to one if I expect to make any progress, but for the moment I'm still nibbling.

The Renaissance thus far is not igniting my interest (petty city-state rivalries are so pre-classical era), but The Iliad is thus far entertaining. People keep getting introduced and killed, but Hector insulting his brother ("Most wretched Paris!") is almost a running joke. The Marcus Aurelius bio is good so far, and Cornwell is always worth recommending. I'm finding The Discourses surprisingly readable, although right now I've slammed into a section on the proper use of reason in thinking which is slow-going.

As for what's next, I have Your Faith, Your Life: An Invitation to the Episcopal Church, by Jenifer Gamber and Bill Lewellis, which I'm reading as part of my study of Anglicanism.

This Week at the Library (7 September)

2011-09-07T16:42:00.000-05:00

This week at the library I've put entirely too much on my plate. For starters, I'm knee deep in Will Durant's The Renaissance, which is surprisingly..not all that interesting. So far it's been three hundred pages of petty Italian city-state politics mixed in with some art discussion. I'm still wading into a prose version of The Iliad, which is proving to be interesting. The gods are actual characters in the stories: one of them deflects an arrow shot Menelaus (the man who thought his pride was worth an eleven-year war) so that it only makes him angry instead of killing him. And, so help me, I've gotten interested in my big Marcus Aurelius biography after all this time.

At the library, I picked up Physics Made Simple and Sharpe's Gold, along with a formal and complete translation of Epictetus' works. I've read an interpretation of Epictetus before (The Art of Living, Sharon Lebell), but it's not Epictetus proper. I don't know why on earth I'm arranging so many books for myself to read, but I also borrowed Your Faith, Your Life: An Invitation to the Episcopal Church from a most kind rector as I'm continuing to learn about the Anglican faith.

In terms of books I've read this week, I have two reviews outstanding. I finally managed to make progress on my comments for The Big Rock Candy Mountain, and am short only a paragraph. Astronomy Made Simple and The Feather Merchants by Max Shulman need reviews, though both will be fairly short.

Teaser Tuesday (6 September)

2011-09-06T00:00:00.000-05:00

Teaser Tuesday is a weekly bookish event hosted by Should Be Reading in which people share a brief excerpt from their current read.

"Most wretched Paris, would you shame us further? Have you not brought dishonour and grief enough on Troy already? Coward, and stealer of other men's wives, I wish that you had died before you went to Sparta."

p. 23, The Illiad. Translated/interpreted by Barbara Leone Picard. This is the Illiad told in prose, not verse. This will not be the last time Hector refers to Paris as "most wretched".

Sharpe's Havoc

2011-09-01T23:56:00.001-05:00

"So what do you believe in?" Vicente wanted to know.
"The trinity, sir," said Harper sententiously.
"The trinity?" Vicente was surprised.
"The Baker rifle," Sharpe said, "the sword bayonet, and me."

(p. 266)

Napoleon's armies command Europe, and now, in the late spring of 1809, they threaten to force Britain to abandon its fragile foothold in Portugal. The British army is in retreat, and one Richard Sharpe -- commanding a small band of riflemen -- has been caught behind enemy lines while on a mission to find and rescue the daughter of a wealthy English family. Our man Sharpe is of course resourceful enough to get himself out of any pickle, but circumstances are complicated when he bumps into a "Lieutenant Colonel" attached to the foreign office, who has a great many schemes and (Sharpe thinks) the legal authority to order Sharpe about. The colonel thinks himself a chessmaster, but Sharpe has his rifles and a few friends with which to survive the weeks of danger, intrigue, and treachery which lie ahead.

Within the last year or so Bernard Cornwell has become one of my favorite authors. Unlike Jeff Shaara or John Grisham, say, I don't read him dutifully -- but joyously. His books make me excited, and Sharpe's Havoc is a fine example of why. Sharpe is thrown into a mess, but he survives the odds again and again through skill, wit, and not a small measure of luck. Dialogue is marvelous as usual -- I do love the usual repartee between Sharpe, Harper, and Hogan -- and once more we get an interesting villain in "Lieutenant Colonel Christopher", a right weasel. Cornwell also shows off his usual gift for making the physical environment come alive. I think Havoc will stand out among the rest of the Sharpe series whenever I complete it, for like a few others it has an intimate focus: Sharpe and his men are alone, and I enjoy their solitary adventures more than accounts of large-scale battles.

Next in the series is Sharpe's Eagle, but as I've already read that I'll be moving onto Sharpe's Gold.

The Gods Themselves

2011-08-31T01:12:00.002-05:00

"Against human stupidity, the gods themselves contend in vain." - Friedrich Schiller

In a small university office, something wondrous has been discovered: an isotope of Plutonium which cannot possibly remain stable according to the laws of known physics. Yet there it sits upon Dr. Hallam's desk, quiet as you like. The search for the isotope's origins creates a powerful new energy source for humanity, one which is effectively inexhaustible and utterly efficient. But nothing comes without a price, and one scientist realizes to his horror that the price of humanity's bounty may be the solar system itself. The Gods Themselves is a story told in three parts: as two men on Earth and the Moon attempt to find someway of convincing the civilization of Earth to save itself, in another universe (the origin of that isotope) a dissident alien rails against her own people's attempt to save itself -- an attempt which is dependent on Earth's destruction.

The Gods Themselves is one of Asimov's more unconventional works, for the good doctor rarely used aliens in his stories. This may be the readers' loss, for the alien race he invents for The Gods Themselves is far from being a species of "rubber forehead" aliens with strange names. They are creatures far different from us, with three genders and bodies not quite so bound as ours. Wrapping my head around their society took a few pages, but once I'd gotten a handle on the genders I was hooked. Despite their differences, they remain sympathetic-- except for their dispassionate decision to destroy Earth's solar system to ensure their survival. Asimov's world-building on the Moon is also worth noting: it seems to be a popular location for him, as he used it in The Positronic Man and more than a few short stories. The Gods Themselves is also a 'harder' kind of science fiction than Asimov's other works (like Empire and Robots): the first third of the novel takes place almost entirely in the laboratory, where atomic chemistry dominates the dialogue.

The essential source of tension in the novel is human short-sightedness: as one character explains to the others, when people are forced to realize their actions have destructive consequences, we seek to counter the consequences instead of ceasing the actions. Because our human heroes can't overcome human stupidity in this regard, they are forced to find a scientific solution to the problem at hand. I didn't know beforehand if this novel is intended to be set in the same storytelling universe as the Robots, Empire, and Foundation novels, so whether the characters would emerge victorious or go down fighting remained up in the air until the final chapter.

Definitely one of Asimov's more interesting works: dramatic tension is maintained nicely, surviving even an interesting sidetrack to explore Asimov's alien culture. The most sympathetic character in the novel is an alien, actually: most of the humans are boors, though humanity is redeemed by two characters in the ending section. It remains to be seen if we will redeem ourselves, for the same weakness of Asimov's humans is present today: instead of throwing ourselves into solutions to eliminate our dependence on fossil fuels, we insist on maintaining them for as long as possible, and so invite disaster.

Related:

Nemesis, Isaac Asimov

The Age of Faith

2011-08-30T20:59:00.000-05:00

After centuries of economic decay, political corruption, and relentless outside attack, the glory of Rome finally surrendered to the tides of history some four centuries into the common era. The western empire gave way to a multitude of states ruled by those virile newcomers, a litany of Germanic tribes -- Franks, Normans, Angles, Saxons, Goths -- while in the east, the classical world was maintained by the Byzantine empire, though more Greek than Roman. What unity remained was to be found in religion, in the Church: having formerly been integrated into the old Roman order, maintained its echo -- but it struggled for power with the many new kings, and even its unity would eventually be fractured. Across the Bosporus, Rome's old enemy Persia stirred -- and further south, in the windswept dunes of Arabia, a man named Muhammad was destined to create a new world power and religion, one which would war with and yet help revive western civilization. Such was the medieval epoch, and in this thousand-year history Durant tells the magnificent story of Europe's formative years.

Durant begins with the death-rattle of Rome and throws a spotlight on Byzantium before moving into the middle east. Although giving Persia and Egypt their time in the sun, it is the rise of Islam which dominates the early portions of the book -- Islam, which fundamentally altered the balance of power around the Mediterranean and preserved much of the classical knowledge that Christian Europe happily tossed into the flames. After a time spent on medieval Jewry -- which, following the destruction of Herod's Temple, united around the Talmud -- Durant then moves to Europe which claims the bulk of the book aside from occasional check-ups on Byzantium. As with his other works, this is comprehensive history, tracking the growth of not just politics but of art, science, and religion. From where I sit, The Age of Faith is the best in the series so far.

It's been over a year since I read from the Story of Civilization series, and in that time I've forgotten how masterful an author Durant is, especially when reflecting and evaluating on the lessons our history has to offer humanity. The book is a hefty read, but the size is appropriate, allowing Durant to reflect on a multitude of cultures and ideas. His scope is impressive. The political histories and cultural treatments are exciting enough, but after musing on the vagaries of currency exchange and enthusiastically guiding the reader through the transformation of architecture from Romanesque to Gothic and the growth of literature and music, he sits down with the reader -- perhaps under the shade of one of those awe-inspiring cathedrals which rose in the 13th century -- and ruminates on philosophy and religion, mulling over the different approaches Christians took to their faith. Some fled the world, others engaged it: mystics held to dogma, while rationalists like Abelard dared to make reason the master of belief. This book is a positive banquet of the human experience, and I relished dining on it day after day.

Although the medieval period is scorned as an era of darkness between the lights of classical civilization and the Renaissance, the picture which emerges here makes that a view impossible to maintain. Though the newly empowered Christianity did do irreparable damage to the human experience, destroying "pagan" art and literature, Europe itself recovered -- and did so not by restoring Rome, but by claiming greatness in its own merits. Technology advanced, as did science -- slowly and painfully. While science had to overcome hostility by the clergy, the medieval Europeans were at least interested in it, far more than the Romans. The Age of Faith bears witness to how much present-day Europe owes to its ridiculed ancestors -- those ancestors who created the universities, who conquered wilderness and marsh and turned them into civilization, who built towns from nothing and filled them with majestic structures which stand today, an enduring legacy. Then too are the fascinating human stories -- love affairs like Peter and Heloise, philosopher-kings like Frederick II of the Holy Roman Empire, and philosophers and scientists in both Christianity and Islam who defied orthodoxy.

Although it took me several tries to tackle this book, I'm heartily glad I did. This is definitely one worth reading.

Related:

Anything by medieval historians Frances and Joseph Gies, but especially Cathedral, Forge, and Waterwheel.
Constantinople: The Forgotten Empire, Isaac Asimov
Islam, Karen Armstrong

Teaser Tuesday (30 August)

2011-08-29T23:39:00.000-05:00

The last Tuesday of the month already? Oy, the time flies.

Civilization is the union of soil and soul -- the resources of the earth transformed by the desire and discipline of men. Behind the facade and under the burden, of courts and palaces, temples and schools, letters and luxuries and arts, stands the basic man: the hunter bringing game from the woods; the woodman felling the forest; the herdsman pasturing and breeding his flock; the peasant clearing, plowing, sowing, cultivating, reaping, tending the orchard; the vine, the hive, and the brood; the woman absorbed in the hundred crafts and cares of a functioning home; the miner digging in the earth; the builder shaping homes and vehicles and ships; the artisan fashioning products and and tools; the pedlar, shopkeeper, and merchant uniting and dividing maker and users; the investor fertilizing industry with his savings; the executive harnessing muscle, materials, and minds for the creation of services and goods. These are the patient yet restless leviathan on those swaying back civilization precariously rides.

p. 206, The Age of Faith. Will Durant.

Top Ten Autumn TBRs

2011-08-29T23:12:00.000-05:00

This week the Broke and the Bookish want to know: as school resumes and the trees begin their autumnal parade, what will you be reading?

1. The Age of Faith, Will Durant

"Oh, pshaw," you say? "You've been trying to read that for a year. Why bother pretending you're going to finish any time soon?"

Because I only have a hundred pages left, that's why. I've been dedicated to it this last week. I read it in the morning with my breakfast, I read it at lunch, I read it at supper, I read it in the afternoon and I read it at night.

2. Department of Temporal Investigations: Watching the Clock, Christopher L. Bennett

I bought this a couple of months ago but lost it halfway through my reading. Actually, I didn't lose it so much as someone decided to put it someplace without telling me. By the time I found the book I'd forgotten what was going on, though -- so I'll probably be restarting.

3. Vagabond, Bernard Cornwell

This will be the last in the Grail Quest series for me, and (alas) my last medieval Cornwell read for a while, since I've been spending my spare money on Star Trek DVD sets instead of books lately.(If you could buy an entire season of an hour-long show for $15, wouldn't you?!)

4. The Land of Painted Caves, Jean M. Auel

This is really more a maybe. I read the Earth's Children series back in 2006 or 2007, but I enjoyed it progressively less as the series wore on. The last book (The Shelters of Stone) seemed to be missing a plot altogether, as the lead character Aayla wandered around being an awesome Mary Sue and coping with the other characters' jealousy. It's still a book about Cro-Magnons and Neanderthals, though, so I'll give it a try at the very least.

5. The End of Eternity and 6. The Gods Themselves, Isaac Asimov

For some reason I want to knock out the rest of Asimov's novels this year. I'm not sure why, because I know I'll regret it and mourn the fact that I have no more Asimov novels to read.

7. Children of the Storm, Kristin Beyer

Beyer has impressively turned one of Star Trek's least-liked shows into one of its best-regarded novel series. Voyager is now leading a small flotilla of ships into the Delta Quadrant to make sure the Borg are truly gone, as well as to patch up any misunderstandings left from Voyager's original trip through the Delta Quadrant's many various civilizations.

8. The Litigators, John Grisham

Back in the start of the year we were asked to post books we figured we'd be reading this year, and I mentioned a hypothetical Grisham book. I titled it The Safe Assumption, because I just KNEW he'd be releasing another book this year. As it happens, it will hit the shelves on October 25. I won't actually read it until Christmas (which is when my sister and I will receive it from our mother), but I mention it here because the accuracy of my prediction amuses me.

I'm not sure what to make of the plot, though. It seems like a combination of one of his short stories from Ford County: Stories and The King of Torts.

9. Jesus for the Nonreligious, John Shelby Spong

I bought this a few weeks ago and started it right before The Age of Faith demanded my attention. I love Spong from what I've seen of him on YouTube, so I'm looking forward to this.

10. Various Incidentals

I'll be reading more of the Sharpe series, beginning with Sharpe's Havoc. I'm reluctant to be too quick about it, though, because once I finish my library's Sharpe books I've got nothing but Stonehenge and a series of books on the American Civil War which I'm inclined to avoid, because the idea of a northerner fighting for the slave-holding confederacy puts a bad taste in my mouth. I'll be finishing Astronomy Made Simple once this book on the medieval epoch is done, and I want to return to that history of chemistry I picked up a few weeks ago -- Creations of Fire, I think it was called. I also have Galileo's Finger to finish, if I can get past the chapter on entropy (an appropriate place for my reading to be derailed, I suppose), and I need to find The Wellsprings of Life by Isaac Asimov so I can finish that. There are also a couple of books from my "top ten books I resolve to read" list that I should get cracking on sometime this fall.

Google Changing Blogger

2011-08-27T00:16:00.001-05:00

This has nothing to do with books, but seems pertinent enough to share. From Mashable.com:

Say goodbye to the Picasa and Blogger names: Google intends to retire several non-Google name brands and rename them as Google products, Mashable has learned.
The move is part of a larger effort to unify its brand for the public launch of Google+, the search giant’s social initiative.

Blogger and Picasa aren’t going away, of course — they’re two of Google’s most popular products. Instead, according to two sources familiar with the matter, Google intends to rename Picasa “Google Photos” and Blogger will become “Google Blogs.” Several other Google brands are likely to be affected, though our sources made it clear that YouTube would not be rebranded. The technology giant shut down Google Video, its failed web video service, in May.
The move isn’t without precedent; Google acquired JotSpot in 2006 and rebranded it as Google Sites in 2008. In 2007, Google acquired VOIP platform GrandCentral and relaunched it as Google Voice in 2009.

Picasa and Blogger were also Google acquisitions, although both companies have been part of the Google empire for far longer. Picasa was acquired in 2004 and Blogger (co-founded by Evan Williams of Twitter) was acquired in 2003 and is one of the top 10 most visited websites in the world. Although the rebranding could upset some existing customers, it also gives Google the ability to completely integrate both services into Google+.

Rebranding Coming in Next Six Weeks

The transition from Picasa and Blogger to Google Photos and Google Blogs will occur “in a month to a month and a half,” we’ve been told. The date aligns with the likely public launch of Google+. Mashable has been told to expect the public debut of Google+ on or before July 31. The date is important because it’s the day all private Google Profiles will be deleted.
We believe Google doesn’t want to have private profiles after the public Google+ launch. Instead, the company is likely to encourage users who want more privacy to use Circles to curate their friend groups.

The brand unification effort will be the largest in company history — it’s never renamed a property as large as Blogger. The popular blog creation service has been receiving a lot of extra love recently. In March, Google announced that Blogger would receive a major overhaul. We doubt many people expected that the overhaul would include a rebranding, though.
Google+ makes perfect sense for Blogger and Picasa — they are both social products that improve as more people use them. It’s important to note that Google+ already has a photos feature, a product that we believe utilizes Picasa technology. It’s also important to note that Google+’s photo feature has no Picasa branding of any kind.

Update: Google declined to comment on this story.

I am already a Google+ member, so unless the new service is bothersome I will probably remain on "Google Blogs". I have a wordpress account reserved for this blog just in case, having registered it a few years ago in case I needed to mirror the blog for whatever reason.

Booking through Thursday: History

2011-08-25T11:06:00.002-05:00

Booking through Thursday says: Sometimes I feel like the only person I know who finds reading history fascinating. It’s so full of amazing-yet-true stories of people driven to the edge and how they reacted to it. I keep telling friends that a good history book (as opposed to some of those textbooks in school that are all lists and dates) does everything a good novel does–it grips you with real characters doing amazing things.
Am I REALLY the only person who feels this way? When is the last time you read a history book? Historical biography? You know, something that took place in the past but was REAL.

I don't recall when my passion for history began, but I remember excitedly running to my desk on the first day of fourth grade so that I could see what my history book looked like. Since then, history has been my 'thing'. As a story, it comes easily to me, and I regard history books as leisure reading. I suppose it's no surprise I went for a history degree. History not only allows us to understand the present, but to challenge it. Having seen the way things came to be the way they are allows us to say "Ah-hah, things don't HAVE to be this way." We don't need to be so impressed by the status quo. There's a history to everything, and the more I study it the more I realize how connected we all are. And of course, BTT is correct in pointing out that history is rife with fantastic stories -- and those stories needn't simply be entertaining. They can inspire us to action, as well.

In response to BTT's direct questions:
My last history reads were Seven Ages of Paris by Alistair Horne and Unfamilar Fishes by Sarah Vowell, the latter of which takes on the American annexation of Hawaii. Biography-wise, in March I read Howard Zinn's You Can't be Neutral on a Moving Train. The events he witnessed in his life give me hope that positive political change is possible despite power and corruption.

Some recommendations:

Pretty much anything by Joseph and Frances Gies. This husband-and-wife team of historians focus on daily life in the middle ages, and their works are completely open to laymen. In fact, I'd wager that their intended audience are people who wouldn't otherwise read history. I'm, most fond of their Cathedral, Forge, and Waterwheel; Life in a Medieval City; and Marriage and the Family in the Middle Ages.
1491: New Revelations of the Americas before Columbus. One of the best, if not the best, history book I've read since starting this blog.
A Life of her Own, Emile Carles -- the true story of a French peasant girl who survived the arrival of industrialism and two world wars. Easily my favorite book acquired through university classes, this completely altered the way I viewed politics.
On the Shoulders of Giants, a history-of-science series by Ray Spangenburg and Diane Kit Moser. This is a good way to acquire basic scientific literacy, and they wrote it for teen audiences so it's quite readable.
And for a larger view, Jared Diamond's Guns, Germs, and Steel, which points out the geographic and biological influences in human history, and Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States, which tells American history from the vantange point of slaves, war protesters, and the working man.

This Week at the Library (24 August)

2011-08-24T18:56:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I finally -- and grudgingly -- accepted the suggestion that I visit the doctor's office, where I was given pills. The prescription appears to be working, and so today I managed to go into town and pay a visit to the library.

I picked up:

The Gods Themselves, Isaac Asimov. This one has been recommended to me by numerous readers, though given my ambition of reading everything Asimov wrote, I would have gotten around to it anyway. (Yes, I'm serious about that goal, but no, I don't anticipate fulfilling it. The man wrote hundreds of books, many of which are out of print.)
The Age of Faith, Will Durant. I seem to have gotten into the comfortable habit of checking this out, reading a few sections, and then returning it.
Sharpe's Havoc, Bernard Cornwell. This is set early during Sharpe's Napoleonic adventures, though I don't know where exactly in the chronology it fits.

I also expect to finish Astronomy Made Simple. I have two reviews outstanding -- The Third Chimpanzee, which is over a month overdue, and The Big Rock Candy Mountain.

Isaac Asimov's Caliban

2011-08-24T10:37:00.000-05:00

The planet Inferno is slipping toward ecological disaster, and the only woman with the wisdom to save it has just been attacked and left lying in a pool of her own blood -- a pool disturbed by the tracks of robot feet, tracks which lead outside to the capital city of Hades. The galaxy's first lawless robot, built without the safeguards of the Three Laws of Robotics, has been set loose on the city -- and there will be hell to pay.

Caliban is a three-threaded story: as Sheriff Kresh attempts to solve the case of this near-murder, the victim struggles to heal and resume her work of preparing Inferno to save itself from a permanent ice age, and the lawless robot Caliban wanders through the city leaving a path of mayhem behind him. Caliban knows virtually nothing of robots, humans, and the relationship between then -- he must learn how to navigate the world on his own, through the direct accumulation of experience. The stories of all three persons merge in the end, and though it's a fitting end it still makes me itch to read the rest of this trilogy.

I did not purposely buy this book: when, two summers ago, I bought a box of Asimov books on eBay which contained the Foundation novels, Caliban came with them. It has sat in my Asimov bookcase since, but a few nights ago I decided to give it a try. Despite my starting off as a hostile reader ("'Isaac Asimov's Caliban? 'Where does he get off, using Asimov's name to draw in readers?!"), MacBride quickly won me over. Although the state of technology in 1993 creates a marked difference between MacBride's humans and Asimov's (Caliban has people using cellphones, and the robots functioning with HUDs), the central themes are definitely in line with what Asimov might have written. The societal consequences of over-reliance on robots is a source of conflict between the Spacers and Settlers -- who, together, are attempting to save the planet's status as a viable place for humans to live -- and motivation for the lead scientist whose battered head introduced the story. Caliban also takes on the Three Laws of Robotics, which Asimov invented in reaction to the early-SF use of robots as monstrous beings: he perceived robots as human-made tools, which would naturally have safeguards. In Caliban, the use of those Laws -- a mainstay in all of Asimov's robot stories and novels -- is reevaluated while Caliban leads the Sheriff in a wild chase. The drama lasts until the last pages, ending on a high note and whetting my appetite for more.

Teaser Tuesday (23 August)

2011-08-23T00:22:00.000-05:00

(Hrrmm, I really should finish my review of The Big Rock Candy Mountain!)

Teaser Tuesday is a bookish thing hosted by Should Be Reading, in which people share an excerpt from their current read.

"Attack now or never; with a single ship, or all the force in the Empire; by military force or economic pressure; by candid declaration of war or by treacherous ambush. Do whatever you wish in your fullest exercse of free well. You will still fail."
"Because of Hari Seldon's dead hand?"
"Because of the dead hand of the mathematics of human behavior that can neither be stopped, swerved, nor delayed."
The two faced each other in deadlock, until the general stepped back.
He said simply, "I'll take that challenge. It's a dead hand against a living will."

p. 23 Foundation and Empire. From The Foundation Trilogy. I read this a few years ago but I had an itch to read the original trilogy again.

Teaser Tuesday (16 August)

2011-08-16T00:00:00.000-05:00

Teaser Tuesday is a bookish sharing experience hosted by ShouldBeReading, in which participants share two sentences from their current read(s) -- or more, if they're not much for rules.

His mind was whitehot with visions, and he vibrated like a harp to his own versions of Pinky's yarns. There was a place without these scorching summers that fried the meat on your bones; there was a place where banks didn't close and panics didn't reach, where they had no rules and regulations a man had to live by. You stood on your own two feet and to hell with the rest of the world.

p. 84, The Big Rock Candy Mountain. Wallace Stegner.