Showing posts with label Greece. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Greece. Show all posts

Monday, September 10, 2018

Antiquity

Antiquity: The Civilization of the Ancient World
© 2003 Norman F. Cantor
256 pages



Perhaps western history is all Greek to you. In that case, Norman Cantor's Antiquity may shed a little light on the subject. It is a brief work, scarcely over 200 pages,  and in it Cantor reviews the primary roots of Western civilization (Greece, Rome, and Judaism), as well as more material considerations like the role of cities.  Civilizations of the middle east also appear through the Jewish connection.  This book has a curious organization, and one of its chapters eschews narrative altogether: instead, Cantor presents the debates within early Christian thought as a lively conversation involving St. Augustine and a few others.   Although the book is intentionally pitched as a survey for the historically illiterate, Cantor doesn't shy away from probing a little more deeply when he can --  exploring the meaning behind classic architecture, for instance, the common emphasis on rationality and restraint that linked Greek aesthetics and philosophy. (Of course, they can't help but be linked, considering that aesthetics was considered one of the branches of philosophy, along with ethics and metaphysics.)   Cantor holds the Roman empire in especially high regard, declaring that it was the most harmonious and stable multiethnic society in history. 

Although I enjoyed this quick romp through the ancient and classical world well enough ,  it has its quirks -- the unusual approach to reviewing Christian thought, for instance, and the fact that Cantor believes that imperialism and  plutocracy  were passed down not by human nature, but by the classic heritage.   I'm preee-eety sure they had war and imperialism in China, Africa, and...oh, everywhere else.  Those who have a serious interest in repairing historical blind spots can probably find better works.

Wednesday, November 2, 2016

The Greeks

The Greeks
© 1950 HDF Kitto
256 pages


HDF Kitto's history of the Greeks came highly recommended to me by another author, and I found it utterly delightful.  Here we have history written not by an archaeologist, but by a classicist whose head is brimming over with the life of his subject, who knows not only their stories but their language.  Kitto begins with a political overview,  from the first settlers to the rise of Alexander the Great, before covering the Greek mind in philosophy and myth.  Kitto brings to this little history great affection for his subject, praising the Greeks despite their faults, as he might a friend.  His style makes the reading enjoyable -- affable, readily knowledgeable, and with just the right amount of wry self-deprecation.

Most fundamentally, Kitto appreciates the Greeks for their rustic well-roundness. They valued autarchy, not specialization, which was one of the reasons their governance often filled important positions with amateurs, choosing citizens by ballot to assume offices.  Related to this is the Greek concept of the polis; for them, the polis wasn't merely a city in which they lived, it was the community through which they fulfilled human nature itself.  The polis was a place in full, supplying its own needs, just as the people it created were men in full. Odyessus, the king of Ithaca, prides himself not on his palace but on his straight furrows: he is a farmer first, a man whose own hands produce works he can take pride in.  Greek appreciation for the fullness of the human condition is exemplified by  art and philosophy which took the body seriously, delighted in the senses while never forgetting the higher things. (Plato would change things, of course, with a dualism that scorned the flesh.)  If we condemn them for not abandoning the free nature of the poleis for a greater empire,  Kitto warns his readers, then we should consider how the Soviets view the west. We have refused their planned society in the name of our liberty, so did the Greeks.  And when we hail the Greeks, is it Alexander's underlings we have in mind? Or is the multitude of men who flourished in Ionia and Athens' golden age?  There's a trace of sadness with Kitto; having judged postwar England against Athens, he finds it inferior -- not in material terms, but in those of human flourishing. Specialization brings with it enormous material prosperity, but men are narrower, less experienced with life in the main;  lost is the Greek man in full, one who could farm and think and craft and love, who put to the test every sinew of his body and mind.  GK Chesterton and Wendell Berry's judgment of modernity is much the same.


Related:

Sunday, March 6, 2016

The Wisdom of the Myths

Wisdom from the Myths: How Greek Mythology Can Change Your Life
© 2014 Luc Ferry
416 pages



Well over a year or so ago, in a mood to read about the classical tradition, I happened upon Wisdom from the Myths: How Greek Mythology Can Save Your Life. Well, that seemed serendipitous, to say the least, despite the fact that the last time I read Ferry he was rather underwhelming.  That mood passed, but it's come round again, and so this weekend I enjoyed Ferry's introduction to the Greek mythos. Wisdom from the Myths is two things;  Ferry retells the major stories of Greek mythology, patching them together from Homer and the dramatists, but brings them together to argue that they constitute a coherent worldview.  This is one of an orderly  universe in which man has a definite role as a member of a polis. (Odysseus' journey is read then as a spiritual one, with the hero confronting the death of his identity when tempted by Calypso. He may remain with her as an immortal, but in so doing would destroy every aspect of what makes him human -- his identity as a father, a son, a husband, a king...a mortal, whose glory is in living well in the face of death.) The cosmos' order is nearly self-correcting in that most negative behavior results in self-destruction, though it does seem to require the occasional hand from Zeus through his agents, Heracles and those who are aware of this unitive order.  As in A Brief History of Thought, Ferry turns again and again to Stoicism, which he views as the fulfillment of this worldview.  Ferry is not a Stoic, but quite sympathetic. He's unusual in that he champions a secular worldview but takes mythology and philosophy seriously, as more than just-so stories and naval-gazing.  He manages to go almost the entire book without overly arcane references, a triumph for an academic.   I enjoyed this far more than A Brief History of Thought, at least as a recap of Greek mythology with a Stoic bent, but the title is overblown.




Sunday, August 30, 2015

Philosophy for Life and Other Dangerous Situations

Philosophy for Life and Other Dangerous Situations
© 2013 Jules Evans
320 pages





 For most, philosophy is a subject that screams impotent academic prattle, the practice of strange individuals who are clearly paid too much to gaze into their navels and pontificate on the Meaning of Lint.  That reputation is a modern one, achieved only in the last century, for most of western history philosophy was the common fount of all knowledge and artistic endeavor. It guided not only men’s thoughts about how the world was, but how they should act within it.  The streets of ancient Athens were alive with debate on how man should live.  Philosophers' answers were not uniform;  names mentioned together in survey courses now, then disagreed with one another vehemently. In Philosophy for Life and Other Dangerous Situations, author Jules Evans introduces the principles and practices of several Greek schools which, while at loggerheads on many issues, were united by some core convictions: namely, that the world was rational, that man could be happy within it, and that he could use his rationality to achieve that happiness.

Evans covers a wide variety of Greek schools, some more than others.  The schools are sampled in one-chapter lessons, and the author presents them as though the reader is visiting a day-seminar. (Lunch,  naturally, is taken with the Epicureans.)  Some schools of thought receive more attention than others; the Stoics, for instance, run across three chapters in the early morning, with Epictetus, Musonius Rufus, and Seneca all providing distinct skills.  Some of the lessons provide mental tricks, like using mottoes to remember principles.  Underlying many of the schools, however, is the principle of mindfulness.  A dark night of the soul brought Evans to Athens in the first place;  in a period of crisis, he was introduced to therapeutic techniques borrowed from Stoicism. Learning to be aware of his emotions, to realize he had the ability to step away from them, allowed Evans to climb out of a mental pit. He developed mental habits like auditing his thoughts and learned to stop dwelling on the negative. Our misery is often self-inflicted;  as Marcus Aurelius wrote, we are more troubled by our reactions about things than the things in themselves. Although Epicureanism has a much different basis than Stoicism, both work to effect a calm, contented mental state amid life's troubles. Stoicism is martial and trains the soul to be immune to the worse that may come, at its most intense calling for a person to retreat into a citadel of the mind. Epicureanism calls for a retreat, too, a kind of detachment from the cares of the world; but instead of being impervious to all care and stolidly devoted to the pursuit of virtue, the Epicurean seeks to focus on a few key ingredients:  community, self-reliance, and mindful simplicity.  The true Epicurean seeks to be the master of pleasure, by downshifting his expectations so as to manufacture a feast out of a little cup of cheese.  The pervasive theme throughout is mindfulness, even extending to the final chapter on dying well. Though moderns close our eyes to Charon, pushing off our arrival at his boat through medicine and miracle-working machines, death is inescapable. The boatman waits for us all; we must truly seize the day.

Philosophy for Life is an important book to consider, for the problems it sought to remedy are universal. Misfortune and unhappiness did not vanish simply because we are 'modern';  knowledge and technology have not conquered the human heart.  When we are inundated  with material wealth - literal lifetimes of entertainment at our fingertips, grocery stores and online markets offering goods to feed every taste and appetite -- we stand in danger of being overwhelmed and addicted, constantly chasing after new and increasingly intense hits, like a victim of drugs. Epicurus has the answer. Similarly, as our brain misfires trying to make sense of the world,  imposing purpose when there is none -- growing wrathful at a car that pulls out in front of us as if they meant to frustrate our travel -- the Stoa stands as a relief. Similarly, when the news is so utterly discouraging, constantly placing the worse of our behavior on display, it is helpful to follow Plutarch's example and deliberately consider the lives of the good and the heroic; to take inspiration from their example.

There are limits to Philosophy for Life, chiefly in its emphasis on the individual as the sole actor in achieving his happiness.  The Stoics believe that people were members of a community; not simply individual units within a collective, but members-- distinct, purposeful in relation to one another. The Epicureans, too, stressed the need for companionship.  These suggest that there is wisdom in traditions like Buddhism and Christianity which stress the need to die to the self, rather than ruled by it;  we live not just for ourselves.  This aside, however, the variety of thought, and the satisfying practicality of it all, recommend Evans to readers interested in living wisely.

Related:

Thursday, November 27, 2014

Gates of Fire

Gates of Fire: An Epic Novel of the Battle of Thermopylae
© 1998 Steven Pressfield
442 pages


When Xerxes, Ruler of Asia, god-king of men, finally stood over the bodies of the few Greeks who had withstood his hordes drawn from half a world, he could not understand. Hailed as all-knowing,   he could not fathom why a few hundred men would have opposed his army of millions, even after they were offered the greatest seats of influence in the Empire.  Finding a Greek still holding on to life,  the Persians looked for answers; nursing him back to health, they coaxed out this, the story of the Spartans. The story of an orphaned boy who fled to the strength of Sparta after his parents and home were destroyed by the Argives, Gates of Fire is his growing up among them, his quest to become like them, to be the quintessence of strength and valor, unbreakable.

Though not born of Sparta, Xeones lived in awe of them from his youth. So fiercly did he admire them that after war turned him into an orphaned child, wandering the wilderness with a cousin, he left her behind to pursue the Spartan way.  He could never be one of them; criminal violence had robbed him of the strength needed to wield the heavy oaken shield and the lance. He could string a bow, however, and let it fly with accuracy, and so he devoted his life to the service of Sparta.  He is motivated by youthful admiration, but also haunted by the memory of his parents, ashamed of not having been there to defend them,  agonized by knowing he ran away from his conquered city. In the Spartans he looks for the strength and fortitude he missed in himself, and when he takes his stand among them at the last, it is quite personal.  

Through Xeo the reader is introduced first to a harsh world in which children can be reduced to scrounging about the countryside, begging and stealing food, and then to the Spartan soul. The Spartans are different than other Greeks;  even when the Persian hordes threaten to reduce Hellas' cities to ashes, its women and children to slavery, the Spartans sneer and laugh while other cities kneel in the dust in homage. There are fates worse than death for a Spartan.   The proud city is a severe place in which the souls of men are tempered like steel against the vagaries of fate, against pain;  these  cannot be avoided, but they cannot be allowed to rule. Discipline must rule; loyalty to the clan must prevail.  Xeo, like all men of the city, becomes subject to Spartan law, a demanding law that forces greatness of the soul even from the lowly.  Having found a place in the ranks as a squire to one of Sparta's knights, Xeo lastly becomes the narrator of the battle of Thermopylae This is the finale, a last  stand so audacious in courage that its telling has survived through the centuries, wherein 300 Spartans and a few thousand Allied Greeks attempted to stop the Persian millions in their tracks.

Although it lives on in the western imagination like no other battle, Thermopylae was for the Greeks a defeat: the Persians broke through after losing thousands upon thousands every day of combat to a mighty, valiant few heavy infantry, and Xerxes swept across Greece, burning even proud Athens. For those who remain, however, for those who later rose against the Persians, for any number of people who have protected a flicker of hope against the gaping maw of darkness--   the British expeditionary force standing in Belgium against the German invasions of 1914 and 1940, for instance -- Thermopylae was a triumph of the human spirit. Pressfield does a magnificent job of giving it poetic due; perhaps, considering the drama of the situation, an artful rendering of it is unavoidable. Time and again Pressfield ensnares the reader in the glorious action, or awes the soul is descriptions of the great slaughter. This he does without much hyperbole; the Persians are not demonized, nor are the Spartans lionized; the two sides meet repeatedly before the slaughter, emissaries hailing on another as brothers. The Spartans, whom  we grow to know through Xeo,  have a severe discipline, but even though they seem to fight like demigods they are still human, and herein they weep, laugh, and love fiercely Their antidote to the fear of battle is fear of failing one another, of failing to give selflessly to their brothers-in-arms.  It's an extraordinary work, as gripping for the martial telling as for the exposure to a culture whose stoic-like dedication is staggering.





Thursday, June 19, 2014

The Odyssey

The Odyssey
© 1884 trans. George Herbert Palmer, original author Homer
313 pages


Three years ago I read The Illiad, and intended to follow it shortly with The Odyssey. Like Odysseus, however, my own attention was blown of course. This is course a classic, second only to the aforementioned Homeric poem in terms of hallowedness. Virtually everyone knows the story;  a veteran of the war against Troy, the architect of its defeat, attempts to return home, only for a quick jaunt across the Aegean into a ten-year journey, full of monsters and the ill will of the gods. An early escape from the monster cyclops Polyphemus earns our hero Odysseus and his crew the enduring wrath of Poseidon, who throws every obstacle he can at them. Fortunately the clever hero is much-loved of Athena, goddess of craft, and she offers able assistance to both the hero and his young son.They'll need it, because while the master of the house is lost at sea, his manor is filled with suitors who want his wife Penelope to wed them. Literally eating him out of house and home, they intend to kill young Telemachus and force Penelope to wed.

I know the Odyssey as Odysseus' story, but his perilous adventures only occupy a fifth of the book. Instead the tale opens with the gods considering his plight, and Athena embarking on a mission to inspire young Telemachus to go searching for news of his father.  A third of the way in, the focus switches to Odysseus, who -- captive by a goddess who wants him to bed her --  makes his escape with a little help from his divine friends. After washing up on one island and massacring its inhabitants without so much as a cross word exchanged between them,  he is driven into the sea and finds refuge among an island of friendly folk who urge him to tell his story. Enter the cyclopes and the rest.  The book by and large consists of a great deal of dialogue, of people making speeches and delivering flourished stories to one another; Odysseus himself seems to use a different name, and invents a different backstory, every time he makes land.  Even after he's home safely, he spins a yarn for his father, seemingly for the pleasure of saying "Just kidding, it's me!"

Although the speeches and such aren't exactly scintillating reading, the language makes up for that a touch;  the Odyssey began as a oral tale, we know, and the expressive language and use of repetition bear that out. Athena is ever the grey-eyed, Odysseus lordly, the dawn rosy-fingered. (In one stance it is also fair-haired.)  The amount of names,  people and place, dropped here is staggering, putting even The Illiad to shame. I'm glad to have finally read the Odyssey, considering its place in western literature, and enjoyed much of it, but I think I have to count The Iliad my favorite of the two.


Monday, June 2, 2014

The Penelopiad

The Penelopiad
© 2006  Margaret Atwood
224 pages

             
Which is worse, waiting twenty years for a rascal of a husband to return home while simultaneously managing his kingdom, raising his son, and fending off scores of suitors – or being upheld as a saint for doing it?    Everyone mocked Penelope for her loyalty while she lived, and derided her for not doing more to discourage the suitors dining locust-like from his orchards, but now that she’s dead, she’s become a paragon of chastity and wifely duty?  It’s a little too much to take, and from the Asphodel Fields, the shade of Penelope reflects on her life. The Penelopeiad is the story of the Odyssey from her view, largely comic though sometimes regretful as she explains why she acted as she did. Penelope’s narrative is interrupted from time to time by a chorus of maids, in keeping with Greek theater.  The maids, Penelope’s servants before Odyssesus ordered their deaths, are the touchstone of her regret. For decades they were her daughters by proxy, her conspirators against the gold-hunting boors infesting her hall, her only friends – and Odysseus slaughtered them! Helen of Troy makes frequent appearances as Penelope’s opposite, a beautiful and wicked betrayer of men who even in death enjoys teasing them. Although The Penelopiad is fully grounded in Greek mythology, modern quirks abound;  the chorus parts move from verse to anthropology lectures and then a mock-trial that ends in a fantasy showdown between Athena and the Furies. It's great fun that doesn't diminish the original source.




Thursday, May 29, 2014

Who Killed Homer?

Who Killed Homer? The Demise of Classical Education and the Recovery of Greek Wisdom
© 1998 Victor Davis Hanson
290 pages



For hundreds of years, the study of the classics was at the heart of a liberal education, thought essential to the cultivation of free men.  Yet today speaking Latin would be regarded as a sign of eccentricity, not erudition. People now attend university for technical  expertise in fields like business, engineering, or nursing, and such a focus is lauded as practical.  A degree in Greek literature would be derided as useless as a degree in art history, the epitome of wasted public finance.  Victor Hanson argues that vocational training is not the point of a university education; an education is not what you know, but how you behave. In Who Killed Homer? he examines the soul-forming virtues of the classical tradition and contemplates their reason for their unnecessary but imminent demise.

Hansen begins by arguing that the greatest virtues of western civilization have their origin, and sustaining permanence, in the Greek tradition.  Drawing from philosophical treatise (to the Greeks, a category broad enough to cover politics, science, and more) in addition to extant literature, Hanson reviews a spectrum of values with origins in Greece.  These range from concepts given overt legal protection (consensual government and the open criticism thereof, armies subordinate to civil power, free enterprise, etc) to ideas understood at a deeper level, and contributing to the others.  These more fundamental appreciations include the belief that every polis' wellbeing depended on the average middling citizen, not the aristocracy or the mob, and that the world was fraught with meaning. Mysterious yet rational, the world was a place imbued with limits -- limits that extended to man. Part of the Greek heritage are more obvious than others; the very shape of US government structures bears witness to their past, and most histories of science will begin with the Greek enterprise. Other appreciations have been forgotten;  like the belief that man was nothing without the polis;  only the power of culture and threat of sanction by others kept the human animal from behaving worse than beasts.  It is in civilization than man finds salvation from his own destruction. This is a hard lesson given an obscene and brutal summation by Hanson: "Man is nothing without the state."  Ultimately, classical education imparted a cohesive view of the world in which science, politics, and philosophy were knit together, a part of the whole.

If these truths are indeed timeless, how have they fallen by the wayside during the 20th century? Hansen lays the blame solely at the feet of the Classicists, who have thrown away the responsibility of their tradition in the pursuit of status and fortune. They ought to know better, and here Hanson's attitude reveals how seriously he takes his belief that education was the moulding of character, not acquisition of knowledge. To Hanson,  those who have committed themselves to knowing the Greek mind, who have studied it in earnest, bear responsibility for practicing it. Just as we expect a minister to conduct himself with greater care than the average parishioner, so to does Hanson expect classicists to be, if not moral champions, at least contenders;  he expects them to live the values of the Greeks, to take their place in the hoplite ranks of the mind and defend what is theirs, to rise to the challenge of revealing the classics' enduring relevance. Instead,  they focus on increasingly more pointless esoterically in pursuit of esteem,  viewing fellow classicists as competition to be beat for choice university positions in which they can focus on their 'research' and leave the actual teaching to grad students, producing not keen minds but papers on mathematical relationships governing the use of similes in The Illiad.  The comprehension of the whole is lost, and insult is added to injury when said scholars apply tortured modern interpretations,laying waste to The Odyssey by accusing it of being the wellspring of western sexism. Instead of defending and advancing the Greek way, classicists have allowed it to become the scapegoat for every moral self-doubt of the west. After outlining his case against his colleagues, Hanson proposes ways to put the focus back on the meaning of the classics,  in part by forcing classicists to teach."Publish or perish" is anathema to this professor who sees his primary vocation as  giving young people a structured education, not advancing his own  prestige. The work ends on a bitter note, however, as he does not expect the modern world's slide into the moral abyss to be arrested. Instead,  we will probably have to wait for civilization to collapse and demand strong men again, men who will rediscover the Greek truths.

That final bitter retort casts a pall over a strongly-argued book already shadowed by contempt for the modern world, especially ideologies like multiculturalism and relativism. The Greeks understood nuance, but in Hanson's view they stood by everlasting truths. Hanson's own stand is strident at times, to the point that he's less a Pericles calling forth citizens to stand with him and more a Leonidas rallying the troops before a final stand. His appraisal of Greek contributions is surpassed by the analysis of why classical studies have faltered, but Who Killed Homer does double duty as a traditionalist critique of modernity and a passionate appraisal of how much value the tradition still holds, even for moderns overawed by their own cleverness. As a classical partisan myself, I found it invigorating, but Hanson's zeal may spook the unconvinced.

Related:




Monday, October 28, 2013

This week at the library: Jesus, bikes, and Greeks


In recent weeks I've finished up an unplanned series of readings on first-century Judeo-Christianity.  Shortly after checking out The Origin of Satan for some historical research, two seperate people happened to reccommend Misquoting Jesus and Zealot at the same time, meaning my head is just swimming with facts on the destruction of the temple. Comments for Zealot will follow tonight.

Outside of those, I read Bruce Thorton's Greek Ways, which defends the primacy of Greek contributions to western civilization. His basis is that while many cultures had similar ideas to the Greeks -- a semblance of science, the beginnings of democracy, and so on -- none of them developed as fully or magnificiently as they did in Greece. Further, while the Greeks were seriously flawed, their limitations were those of the human race, while their triumphs were culture-specific. He draws extensively on Greek poetry and prose to put their ideas and behaviors into historical context, and to argue that ideals of western civilization, like political liberty and religious skepticism, were first expressed in their fullest form in Greek minds.  Being hopelessly biased toward the Greeks,  I don't trust myself to do a proper review, but I was impressed by his research.

Additionally, I read through Just the Two of Us, a travel memoir by Melissa Norton, who with her husband  cycled across North America, from the Pacific to the Atlantic. I enjoyed it well enough, but it wasn't a standout for me, at least not when compared to Hey, Mom, Can I Ride My Bike Across America?  I'd been told that Just the Two of Us contained a lot of information on bike mechanics, but my source must have been thinking of another book altogether;  this is a travel diary, and rather complete at that, with the inclusion of mileage logs. (David Lamb's Over the Hills was bike-info heavy, because it had to be; aside from a dog chasing him, nothing happened on his journey. Compare that to John Siegel-Boettner's trip with middle-schoolers, where they were chased not by dogs, but by tornados!

Yesterday I finished Bill Bryson's The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid, a memoir of a baby-boomer childhood. I'd say it's one of Bryson's funniest pieces, but they run together in one long string of belly laughs. More comments on it may follow later.

This week I am attempting to finish, or at least make some progress in, Lewis Mumford's The City in History. After that I have The Consumers' Republic and The Last Humans, and I'm intending on reading a bit more fiction as the year is winding down. I'll probably be resuming Sharpe's series; I believe I left the good rifleman perched at the edge of the Pyrenees, poised to invade France and send Napoleon packing.

Thursday, May 24, 2012

A History of the World in Six Glasses

A History of the World in Six Glasses
© 2006 Tom Standage
311 pages



A toast to human enterprise! Pick your poison -- beer, wine, rum, tea, coffee, or Coca-Cola. Three are alcoholic, three are caffienated: all were the stuff of empires, and the story of those empires is one Tom Standage is intent on telling. He begins with beer and wine in Mesopotamia and Egypt and moves to wine in Greece and Rome. The focus then shifts to Europe and the rum-fueled Age of Discovery that saw European nations expand across the world and remake it in their image. While distilled spirits ran the high seas, the intellectual minds of Europe stayed keen with coffee from Arabia. British and American imperialism are charted through Asian tea and Coca-Cola, respectively.

The result is light popular history that succeeds based on the author's lively tone and the perspective, which takes the lofty subject of World History and brings it down to the tavern table, supplying readers with both interesting tales about their beverage of choice as well as a greater appreciation for the role those drinks played in world history; some of the connections Standage reveals surprised even me. The importance of each drink varies; some are material, like the beer which was tied to agriculture, the basis of society, and the tea which drove British foreign policy and led to the opium wars. In the case of wine and coffee, the relevance is more ethereal: Standage champions wine-wet symposiums as an instrument of Greek excellence.  The section on Coca-Cola is an odd duck, the only one to mention a brand name. Perhaps this is because Coca-Cola succeeded like no other brand,  but it still sits oddly, and its chapters almost read like history with product placement. Standage is delightful to read, but his narrative isn't quite as thorough as I might have liked.There's no mention given to Coca-Cola's connection to the spread of fast food restaurants, for instance, though I had no idea how instrumental the Second World War was to its success.

Light, but fun; I'll probably be trying Standage's similar work, An Edible History of Humanity.


Related:
The Coffee Trader, David Liss
Salt: A World History, Mark Kurlansky
Fast Food Nation, Eric Schlosser
And a Bottle of Rum: A History of the New World in Ten Cocktails, Wayne Curtis

Monday, October 31, 2011

The Lost Hero

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.

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

Thursday, September 8, 2011

The Illiad

The Illiad
© 1960 Barbara Leonie Picard
208 pages
Illustrated by Joan Kiddell-Monroe


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.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

The Life of Greece

The Life of Greece
© 1939 Will Durant
754 pages


Ancient Greece is the nursery of Western civilization, and has fascinated me ever since childhood. That fascination grew with age, especially after I began to study Greek philosophy -- so I dove eagerly into The Life of Greece. Like Our Oriental Heritage, it is impressively large, and for the same reason: it is a history of not only the political and martial history of Greece, but of its literature, philosophy, art, industry, and religion. Beginning with the migration of various peoples to the portion of the Med. that eventually became known as Greece, Durant follows the evolving cultures on the Greek islands and the cultures they influenced until the arrival of Rome. Nomads become farmers, trading posts become booming towns filled with industry and debate, and men sail into uncharted seas of thought.

Like Oriental Heritage, Life of Greece is most notable for Durant's wide approach. No section is without chapters on poetry, sculpture, music, architecture, industry, economic approaches, and literature. His approach gives the reader an opportunity not just to examine literature or philosophy within the context of their time, but to track their development as the centuries pass.  The scope of Durant's book allows the reader to gain a sense of a culture evolving through time, slowly changing. The book impressed upon me that every civilization is constantly haggling with the cosmos:  every approach the Greeks tried in ruling themselves had its   successes and weaknesses.

This is the essential strength of the book, although Greece remains a compelling subject no matter the approach taken. Additionally, Durant touches on the people the Greeks influenced, particularly the Egyptians and Jews in the days following Alexander. Greece has borne the world many gifts. Durant's pragmatic appreciation of religious primacy and monarchy are a touch distasteful to the modern mind, and he continues with his odd use of 'epicurean' and the nebulous 'stoic'. It's decidedly odd in a book that dedicates a chapter to Stoic and Epicurean philosophy, in which Epicures is described several times as living stoically and creating a philosophy that was Epicurean "in name only".  The poor man is denied his own name!

While not without weakness, the book's subject ought to remain of interest to modern minds, especially those of Europe and the United States who can look to old Athens as an intellectual and cultural ancestor.


Related:

  • The Greek Way, Edith Hamilton. Hamilton uses literature to draw conclusions about the culture that created it. 
  • The Echo of Greece, Edith Hamilton. Emphasis on Athens. 

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Working IX to V

Working IX to V: Orgy Planners, Funeral Clowns, and Other Prized Professions of the Ancient World
© 2007 Vicki Leon
312 pages


This amusingly-titled volume caught my eye more than a few times in the past, and with an itching to read something about Rome, I decided to delve into it. The book contains over 160 job descriptions from Greece and Rome, sorted into general categories ("Law and Disorder" contains sections on bureaucrats, policemen, bodyguards, and mercenaries, for instance). Occasionally Leon uses one particular individual from history to explore an occupation's duties and hazards. Cicero's faithful slave Tiro stars in the section devoted to scribes. The descriptions are laced with humor, often ribald. Leon is a casual author, constantly making sly jokes to the reader Illustrations abound, and more than a few of them sport humorous captions.

Working IX to V is immensely detailed, and as every section is individually listed in the table of contents I can see the book being useful to someone writing historical fanfiction, though I suppose a for-profit author would prefer a more standard handbook.  I enjoyed the book:  although more pedestrian jobs are included (tax collectors and mercenaries), Leon delights in telling the reader about history's bizarre and revolting occupations. Her book will considerably enrich the way I think about daily life in Rome, as the details go beyond just specific occupations. Every section contains information on how that job fit into the overall scheme of things, and I learned all manner of odd details. For instance, blue-blooded Roman ladies had specific slaves to carry around their shoes when they paid social visits: different shoes were required for different occasions. Apparently, wearing sandals with one's toga was a major faux pas to the Romans. Playwrights were also expected to take active hands in performing and finding actors for their plays in Greece.

For information on daily life in Rome, particularly concerning occupations, this book will serve and amuse amply.

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Plato's Podcasts

Plato's Podcasts: the Ancients' Guide to Modern Living
© 2009 Mark Vernon
215 pages


I encountered this book a  few weeks ago while enjoying a virtual photo-tour of ancient Athens hosted by an Greek philosophy enthusiast. The title immediately drew my attention, and had I spotted this in a library, the cover would have caught my eye regardless. Mark Vernon's approach is similar to Alain de Botton's The Consolations of Philosophy in that Vernon devotes each chapter to introduce a single philosopher's approach toward various subjects. The titles are straightforward, examples being "Epicures on why less is more" and "Socrates on being towards death". Vernon's chapters are more numerous and less detailed than de Botton's, concerned only with a particular facet of a philosopher's life or works. Some philosophies, most notably for me Stoicism, appear multiple times.This helps counter the risk of misrepresentation. Vernon also limits himself to the classical world, not going beyond Hypatia.

Vernon's central idea is that the problems of the contemporary world are not dissimilar at their roots from the problems faced by the ancients: people still ask the same questions and are vulnerable to the same outside influences. The themes in this book are universally human: the search for meaning, living amid violent times, free will, love and marriage, understanding laughter and sorrow. He believes that the approaches taken by the classical world's many varied personalities who not only taught, but practiced philosophy to live life more fully are still valid, and he draws some connections between ancient and modern approaches -- between Epicures, the Stoics, and the Slow Movement, for instance. He also references similarities between the Greek philosophers and  Buddhists, as well as between the philosophers themselves. Vernon is an informal author, sometimes joking with the reader, but seems to take the philosophical approach to life seriously. Although his faceted approach runs the risk of misrepresenting a school of though to the lay reader, he introduced me to an abundance of previously unheard names with interesting ideas to ponder. I enjoyed reading this through the weekend, and can easily recommend it to those interested in the philosophical life.

Related:

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Persian Fire

Persian Fire: The First World Empire and the Battle for the West
© 2005 Tom Holland
418 pages

After reading Holland's Rubicon, blogger ResoluteReader recommended that I read Persian Fire as well. I have an interest in the various Persian and Babylonian empires that rose and fell thousands of years ago, and given my strong interest in the ancient Greeks, the book was thus quite appealing. Holland begins his narrative by establishing the early histories of the Persian Empire, Athens, and Sparta, including Persia's absorption of the Babylonian and Egyptian polities. I knew very little about the various empires in "Iran", and was especially surprised to learn about the religious aspects of the Persian emperors. Holland will frame the emperors' religious views in explaining their decisions to move to the east. A couple of them seem to think of themselves as Plato's philosopher-king's. In telling the story of the Greeks, Holland is especially through in detailing their petty quarrels with one another.

Roughly around the three-fifths mark, Greece and Persian come into conflict and resulting chapters detail the Persian Wars that Darius and Xerxes carried out against the Greeks. The Persian motivations are quite romantic: they intend to show everyone that Ahura Mazda is not mocked, nor is his Empire scorned, and neither will either tolerate "evil". The classic battles of the wars -- Marathon, Thermopylae, Salamis -- are all included, typically given a chapter all of their own. The book is quite thorough and very readable. Although its level of detail amounts of a somewhat imposing read, it's fairly easy to get through. He does persist in using modern terminology -- putsch, generalissimo, and so on -- but that's just a trifling matter. The book ends by hinting at the conflict between Athens and Sparta -- the "Peloponnesian Wars".

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Sailing the Wine-Dark Sea

Sailing the Wine-Dark Sea: Why the Greeks Matter
© 2003 Thomas Cahill
303 pages, including index

I believe I picked this book up years ago, but never finished it. Very little seemed familiar as I read through the book this week, so if I did read it I assume I did not make it very far. As you may be able to imagine from the title, this addition to the Hinges of History series focuses on the Greeks, part of the western heritage -- arguably the most important part of the western heritage. While the book's contents span the Mycenaeans to the late Hellenes, much of the content comes from the golden age of Athens (which Edith Hamilton wrote about in The Echo of Greece). Cahill's chapters weave the story of how the Greeks taught us "How to Fight", "How to Feel", "How to Party", "How to Rule", "How to Think", and "How to See". Cahill also manages to make these topics fit into a chronological framework: "How to Fight and How to Feel" both take as their primary sources Homeric legends, while "How to See" is set after the rise of Christianity and the absorption of Greece into the Roman empire. The transformation of the Greco-Roman world into the medieval world is the subject of his last chapter, and he manages to advertise for his other books as well. Cahill begins each chapter by retelling a story of myth. His motive is to convey to the reader the sense that we are only glimpsing fragments of who the Greeks were: we cannot understand them in their wholeness. "History must be learned in peaces," he comments in his very first sentence to the reader.

Most of what I have said of Cahill's previous works must be repeated here: he writes well. His narrative is neither overly wordy nor simplistic. He carries on a conversation with the reader, addressing us personally. Whenever his own biases slip into the narrative, the reader may recognize them as such without mistaking them as commonly held opinions. (He does misrepresent Epicureanism and Stoicism at the end, but commenting on this rather strikes me as nitpicking. It's not as if there are people out there who would embrace Epicureanism if only they hadn't been dissuaded by Cahill's off-hand comment.) The plates he includes are well chosen: Greek art could be quite exquisite, although I confess I don't see the draw of drinking goblets illustrated with orgies. I think he is successful in his goal of portraying the Greeks as a people who lived -- and not simply as the idealized forefathers of western civilization. They are represented here in all of their triumphs and failings. I must recommend the book to those interested in the period.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Mythology

Mythology
© 1942 Edith Hamilton
333 pages

In the past, I have both read books by Edith Hamilton and tried to read books on Greco-Roman mythology. I have never succeeded in finishing a mythology book before my interest in the subject waned, but this week I was able to do so. The book is fairly straightforward: after introducing us to our cast of characters (gods, demigods, Titans, giants, and miscellaneous creatures), Hamilton retells the various stories that constitute the Greek mythology. She organizes them by theme ("Tales of Love", "The Trojan War", etc) and tells the reader which sources she is relying on for her narratives. This pleased me. Those who are more familar with the various Greek and Roman authors may read more into her choice of authors. Take, for instance, this comment from a Lawrance Benarbo at Amazon.com: "I appreciate Hamilton's choice to avoid relying on Ovid, for while the 'Metamorphoses' is the most comprehensive ancient text dealing with the classical myths, Ovid is an unbeliever. For Hamilton the writings of Homer, Hesiod and Pindar are more abbreviated in terms of providing details for the myths, but at least they take the tales seriously."

Curiously, Hamilton also attaches two brief chapters on Norse mythology to the end of the book. I'm really not sure why, other than Norse mythology being somewhat connected to western civilization. She doesn't explain why, but given that our days of the week reflect the old Norse gods (Tir's Day, Woden's Day, Thor's Day, and Freya's Day), I take my own explanation as the most likely. It was a pleasant read, taking me back to both childhood and my introduction to western literature class in my freshman year of college.

Monday, December 22, 2008

The Echo of Greece

The Echo of Greece
© Edith Hamilton 1957
224 pages

About two years ago I read The Greek Way by Edith Hamilton, which was an exploration of the Greek mind as reflected in law, philosophy, art, and more. The book introduced me to the works of Pindar, and I generally remember the book favorably. While poking around in the classical literature shelves, I spotted another book by Hamilton, and upon seeing that it included a chapter on the Stoics I wanted to read it. The book concerns itself with the twilight of Greece civilization (prior to being absorbed into the Roman Empire): the fourth and fifth centuries B.C. She begins it:

Fourth century Athens is completely overshadowed by Athens of the fifth century, so much so that it is little considered. Any brief history of Greece will more likely than not end with Athens' defeat in the Peloponnesian war in 404 B.C.There will be references, perhaps, to Demosthenes and Philip of Macedon and Alexander the Great, all too important to be omitted, but no account of the time they lived in will be thought necessary. Real interest in Greece ceases with Sparta's victory over Athens. Plato and Aristotle live in a timeless word of philosophy without any local inhabitation, and are hardly thought of us Greeks but as intellectual forces. And yet, their century, the fourth century, has a special claim on our attention apart from the great men it produced, for it is the prelude to the end of Greece, not only of her glory, but of her life historically.


The book is divided into ten chapters. The first two chapters ("Freedom" and "Athens' Failure") concern themselves with events of the fifth century before the birth of Jesus. In "Freedom", Hamilton writes about the Athenian mind and its focus on individualism and moderation, contrasting it to the grandiose and authoritarian ideas of its neighbors. In "Athens' Failure", she addresses the consequences of the Persian and Peloponnesian wars, wherein the ideals and freedoms that Athens once stood for are betrayed by its new-found obsession with power.

In the next two chapters ("The Schools of Athens" and "The School Teachers") Hamilton writes on the intellectual life of Athens. It is in this chapter that the reader learns a bit about Greek philosophy, which is focused less on ethics and more on the substance of what is (epistemology) and politics. We are told about Plato's Academy and Isocrates' Lyceum, as well as another school. The next two chapters ("Demosthenes" and "Alexander the Great" are historical in nature and are a narrative of Macedonia's rise, the defense of Greece against the designs of Alexander, his triumph, and the waxing and collapse of his world-empire. Hamilton examines the way Greek philosophy (through Aristotle) shaped Alexander's mind, how his actions impacted the Greek and Athenian mindset, and how his actions transmitted Greek thought across a wider portion of the map. The next chapter, "Menander", uses the life of a playwright to observe how Greek culture is changing in response to the various political changes that Greece is going through.

The next chapter is on the Stoics, and I enjoyed it immensely. While Hamilton writes about many of of the known Stoics, the three she concentrates on are Zeno (the founder), Epictetus, and Marcus Aurelius. Hamilton's narrative has Stoicism and the other new schools of thought being created because of Greece's newfound domination by Alexander (and later, Rome):

The people who listened to Zeno were afraid and very evil things kept happening to them. [...] the great majority were in a state of confusion and fear, thrown off their base by events never dreamed of before by any Athenian. Their city, the only place in the world where they could look to any well-being, which had been the freest city and the proudest, and suddenly been cast down helpless. [...] To the Athenians [Stoicism] was a message of hope to the despairing, of liberty to the conquered, of courage and self-reliance.


Hamilton writes at-length about the Stoics, often comparing it to Christianity -- which came three hundred years later. On page 166, she writes 'Stoic sayings again and again recall Christ's teachings. He too preached a hard doctrine and disregarded nonessentials". Given the chronology, that might be better worded "Christ's teachings again and again recall Stoic sayings".  In the next chapter, "Plutarch", Hamilton looks at the historical books of Plutarch and at his way of looking at things to get an insight as to how the Greeks perceived their own history.

In the last chapter, "The Greek Way and the Roman Way", she compares the Greek/Athenian mind to the Roman mind: individualism and idealism compared to authoritarianism, a contemptuous attitude toward the public, and a penchant for brutalism. She then laments that the Catholic church choose the Roman way rather than the Greek way, and attributes the cruelties and dogma of the Roman Catholic Church to its adopting that viewpoint. In her view, it was the Greek way that was closest to the teachings of Christ.

"In all Athens' history, Socrates was the only man put to death for his opinions. His executioners killed him by giving him a poison that made him die with no pain. They were Greeks. The Romans hung Christ upon a cross."

All in all, I enjoyed the book immensely. She uses primary sources materials extensively, giving the reader the opportunity to sample quotations from plays, lectures, and so on. Hamilton is a gifted writer, I think. Some of her phrasings border on poetic, at least in my estimation. I do have three objections:
  • Firstly, her narrative seems to be to be very romanticized. I like the classical Greeks and I will praise and defend them when appropriate. I do not, however, believe that the Greeks were as exquisite examples of humanities as they are painted here. While there is much to be admired about the classical Greeks (more than their contemparies, fans like myself would argue), they were people and they were undoubtedly given to the same mistakes as everyone else.
  • Secondly, while this book is about Greece, it is Athens that features most promimently and I am concerned that the casual reader might be given the impression that the Athenian mind and the Greek mind were identical. They were not, and couldn't be. While there were undoubtedly shared cultural norms, Hamilton herself points out the extreme differences between Athens and the rest of the poleis in "Athens' Failure".
  • Thirdly, I think Hamilton's translation of various Greek phrases into "God" is slightly misleading, in that depending on the source they could be referring to deities, a sense of Cosmic Order, or a monotheistic supreme being.
That said, I reccommend the book to any who are interested in the subject at hand.

Saturday, February 2, 2008

This Week (Month?) at the Library

It's been well over a month since I last sat down to write about the books I'm reading, for whatever reasons. I have gone through a few books in that time, although not as many as I would've liked or as many as I would have ordinarily expected. While on Christmas break, I checked out a variety of books on Rome, Greece, France, and Germany. I would only end up reading one of those, being distracted by the holidays and a Civilization 3 game.

The book I did read was Greece and Rome: Builders of Our World by Paul Lachlan MacKendrick. The book itself was a beautiful thing, a sight to behold. The copy I had was a hardcover, dark green. A silk ribbon was sewn into the book's binder as a bookmark. The pages themselves were amply decorated, with pictures often serving as the background of the page. The book is a collection of essays dealing with Rome and Greece, as you might have already reduced from the book. The most memorable essay saw the author retracing Odysseus' footsteps (or…oar-beats?) , using etymology and geography to sort out what Homer's colorful descriptions were actually about. Heretofore I had dismissed the vast majority of those tales as simple myth, but the author made some plausible connections to reality, even finding a way of giving the Cyclopes some shadow of truth -- figuring out what the Cyclopes might be an exaggeration of. It's been a month and a half since I read the book, though, so I can't remember anything specific. The book itself was put out by the National Geographic Society, which would explain how impressively it was done.

The second book I read was France 1814 -1919: The Rise of a Liberal-Democratic Society. I checked this book out to help me prepare for my French History class, but was unable to understand it at first until the semester began and terms like "Ultras" were actually explained. In this case, the class helped me understand the book; quite the reverse of what I had intended! Persons less distracted than myself (once the holidays were over, I actually made good progress in reading this one) and interested in French history should find this book quite interesting. I wish I could elaborate more.

While my reading tends to be dominated by nonfiction, I did happen to read a work of fiction -- The Confessions of Max Tivoli, by Andrew Sean Greer. I found this book through "Unshelved", a comic strip set in a library. The strip is a daily strip, but every Sunday the strip is used for "The Unshelved Book Club" -- where essentially they recommend a book. Here's the "Book Club" strip for The Confessions of Max Tivoli.

http://www.unshelved.com/archive.aspx?strip=20071125

That essentially explains the gist of the book. As you can see from the characters' clothing in that advertisement, the book isn't set in the present day. Max is born in 1871 and lives through the 1906 earthquake in San Francisco as well as both world wars. The book is principally about Max's lifelong love for Alice, and his difficultly in living with his strange condition. The premise of the book is very interesting, and the book itself is in my opinion beautifully written. My only problem with this book was that it was rather tragic. It's definitely one of the most interesting books I've ever read, though, so I'd recommend it. I returned the book yesterday without writing down some of the more beautiful bits of prose, but I did write down the following two weeks ago when it snowed here in Alabama -- and appropriately enough, I read about a freak snowfall in San Francisco.

"The day that Father disappeared, long ago in San Francisco, I awoke from my unmade bed to find another, formed in snow outside my window. Like a health-crazed mother who feeds you on a steady diet of grains and crackers but one morning produces a sugared white cake just because she's missed it for too long, the world had happily shrugged off all expectations and given me a snowy day. I had read about it, and heard my father's recollections of the castles and dragons carved from the banks of creamy Danish snow, how he and the other boys would slide on wooden boards all the way to Prussia, but I was not prepared for the real thing. I thought it would be like a toy left in the yard; I was not prepared for snow to erase the world completely and leave a crisp, blank page. I stared out at the mansions that were not there, the horses, the surreys, the work-bound men I was so used to seeing. There was no sky; there was no city. I gasped as we always do at the unnatural. [...] They say the most that fell that day was a foot of snow in Golden Gate. About three inches fell in the city itself. I have since learned in my travels, especially during a hip-high whopper in Colorado, that this is nothing; this is a mere extravagance of frost. But for us it was thick and bright as luck. " - Andrew Sean Greer, The Confessions of Max Tivoli


The last book I read was Sinister Touches: The Secret War Against Hitler by Robert Goldston. The book focuses on American and British intelligence operations against the Axis powers -- from attempts to steal Enigma (the Nazi military coding machine) to sabotage of infrastructure. I checked this book out in high school but never read it, so when I spotted this last week in the local library, I knew I had to check it out. It was most enjoyable.

Pick of the Week: The Confessions of Max Tivoli. Tragic, but beautifully written.

I'm currently reading two books. The first is Washington's Secret War by Thomas Fleming, a book focusing on George Washington's attempts to defend against attacks on his character and competence from Congress and some French allies. The second is a book about the formation of the SS in Nazi Germany, although I can't remember the title offhand and can't seem to find it in the University library's system, even though that's where I found itT