The Broke and the Bookish, home of Top Ten Tuesdays, is hosting a nonfiction reading challenge which is meant to expand horizons even for people who read nonfiction on a regular basis, like myself. They've listed nine categories to read from, and a few of them are those I rarely go near. I've never done a challenge before, and this sounds like fun.
Culture: "Non-fiction books about different cultures, religions and foreign lands; memoirs & biographies count."
There are a couple of books on India and China I'm interested in reading this year, though I think they're mostly history. In any case, I also intend to read something about Hinduism this year. Will Durant's books are heavily cultural, too.
Art: "Non-fiction books about anything art related (painters, music, architecture, photography, dance, literature, film, etc.). Memoirs/biographies of any people related to the arts count."
Well, if my library has a book on the history of architecture I'd be interested -- and if not, there's always that biography of Sammy Davis Jr. which I never finished. I also want to read a biography of Audrey Hepburn, because she's adorable in every movie I've seen her in.
Food: "Food memoirs, anything related to food industry, food lifestyles."
...I have no real idea. Maybe Epicures will say something about food? I'm going to be reading his works this year.
Medical: "anything related to the medical field--industry memoirs, memoirs about illnesses (mental included) /diseases, etc."
Hm. I will have to poke around. I rarely venture into my library's medical section, because it has books on homeopathy and by Keven Trudeau, and those just make me sink to the floor weeping. This attracts attention and diminishes the productiveness of my library visits.
Travel: "travelogues, industry memoirs, travel guides, etc."
This should be rather easy: I still have the second Walking Across America book waiting for me.
Memoir/Biography: "Self explanatory "
Should be easy enough. I'm planning on reading D-Day parachutist Dick Winters' memoirs, as he recently passed away. I'm also interested in reading a big ol' biography of Franklin Roosevelt.
Money: "Anything related to finances, economics, history of money, financial improvement etc."
- Last year I intended to read The World is Flat, a book on globalization, but didn't get around to it. This challenge will provide such an opportunity.
Science/Nature: "Anything related to any scientific field, memoirs count."
- Sex on Six Legs, which won't be released until late this year -- but I have an advanced review copy. Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors by Carl Sagan, which I haven't read since 2006, is a likely contender. And to those challenge-folk reading, Carl Sagan was famous for working to popularize science. He's written quite a few books in addition to hosting Cosmos. (Link is to "A Glorious Dawn", which is..Cosmos in concentrate.)
History: "Anything history related-- events, biographies of historic figures, etc."
- Heh. History is my bread and butter, so to speak, so this one will be easy. The Age of Faith by Will Durant, and The Near East by Isaac Asimov are two reads I already have in mind. (You know, I really should get around to reading The Age of Faith so I don't keep mentioning it in Broke-and-the-Bookish-related posts. It's appeared on three or four lists now...)
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Friday, January 14, 2011
To End All Wars
To End All Wars: A Story of Loyalty and Rebellion, 1914-1918
© 2011 Adam Hochschild
480 pages
Disclaimer: I read from an advanced review copy of the book, available through NetGalleys. No compensation for a review, good or negative, was offered or requested, aside from my own potential enjoyment of the book.
Though American history books tend to portray the Great War as merely the prologue of World War 2, its momentous horror and long-reaching effects deserve more recognition. The war shattered the late 19th century's dreams of an optimistic future -- that with reason enthroned and science driving society, humanity would march ever courageously into a progressive future toward paradise. That great vision vanished when national pride flared and the being known as Modern Man turned into a screaming chimpanzee with a machine-gun, perverting the material and intellectual accomplishments of humanity for the cause of destruction -- hell-bent on the brutal evisceration of its enemies and too drunken with anger, grief, and war-lust to stop the bloodshed. To End All Wars delivers the full scope of the horror and makes it personal, but offers the reader inspiration and hope in the midst of lunacy by partially focusing on the lives of those who stood against the great madness.
To End all Wars consists of two intertwined narratives: the first is a general history of the great war, which is surprisingly detailed. In spite of the book's brevity, Hochschild managed to convey not only the essential course of the war (generally focusing on the Western Front), but an astonishing amount of pertinent details and background information -- like the peculiarities and horrors of trench warfare and the requirements of this, the first great industrial conflict that demanded 70% of a nation's active resources to maintain. Hochschild's narrative makes the inhumane conditions , chronic and massive destruction of life, and utter pointlessness more obvious than any other Great War book I've read save soldiers' memoirs. The effect is all the more poignant to the reader because those who perish are not nameless: they are the loved ones of people we know personally.
The other entwined half of To End All Wars is a personal history of Britain in the last decades of the 19th century and during the Great War. Hochschild introduces a handful of individuals from varied classes and backgrounds who will each play their separate roles in the war to come. Some, like the miner-turned-politician Keir Hardy, will resist the war and be literally heartbroken by its initial popularity. Others, like Sir John French, will devote themselves to the Glory of the Realm and fight on come hell, high water, or Bolshevik revolution. This portion begins with Queen Victoria's Diamond Jubilee and chronicles the battle for expanded voting rights and social justice. Suffragettes are particularly visible, and the story of their fight astonished and delighted me. How can a reader resist the charm of women who back furniture trucks into Paraliment's doors and deploy a dozen or so suffragists to storm inside and shout "VOTES FOR WOMEN!", joined by comrades rappelling through the ceiling skylights? This is the kind of lively drama that conventional history texts miss completely.
Among the ranks of these lives -- through whom we witness the expansion of empire and the full horror of war -- are heroes and villains, champions of the human spirit and aristocrats consumed by wealth and vanity. Few of them, however, are predictable. Charlotte Despard, one of the more heroic figures in the text, was as ardent a populist champion as Eugene Debs -- but her brother was Sir John French. Emmeline Pankhurst starts the book out as a socialist suffragette who attempts to blow up the prime minister's home with him in it -- but once the war starts, she becomes said minister's staunch ally and denounces any and all who question her. The effects the war had on personal relationships is fascinating: Emmeline and the minister, once enemies, became allies -- and Emmeline and two of her pacifist daughters, once comrades-in-arms, became strangers to one another. Other notable figures include Bertrand Russell and Rudyard Kipling, two literary-intellectual figures whose stances were in opposition. While Kipling produces poetry, stories, and essays praising war and the Honor of the Nation and denouncing Germans as subhuman, persistent enemies of civilization, Russell stands sadly in the rain and watches his countrymen cheer the deaths of human beings simply because their last names are different. (He's later thrown into jail for opposing the war.)
To End All Wars is an exceptional read. Its narrative of the war, slightly marred by an American bias toward the Allies, would function well as a general introduction to the war, but the personal accounts make the book golden. The stories of those who stand against 'man's blind indifference to his fellow man', who oppose the inhumanity of their government's actions, are inspirational enough, but their treatment at the hands of their fellow citizens serves to remind readers of other, more subtle costs of war -- moral corruption. Though Woodrow Wilson disingenuously referred to the war as a defense of democracy, there's little democracy to be seen in the actions of Britain's government. Those who do not enthusiastically support the war and the government are spied on, denounced, stoned, imprisoned, vilified by the press, and lined up to be shot. Though this is a story of the Great War, the 'war to end all wars', its most important story is that of the pacifists, the socialists, the principled Christians, and the internationalist intellectuals who saw the war as futile, pointless, and the only true enemy of any nation. While scenes of the destruction and death were emotionally difficult to read, the lives of those few provided a ray of hope, and their vindication at war's end finishes the book on a somber, somewhat relieved note.
To End All Wars will be available commercially on 3 May 2011, from Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.
Related:
© 2011 Adam Hochschild
480 pages
Though American history books tend to portray the Great War as merely the prologue of World War 2, its momentous horror and long-reaching effects deserve more recognition. The war shattered the late 19th century's dreams of an optimistic future -- that with reason enthroned and science driving society, humanity would march ever courageously into a progressive future toward paradise. That great vision vanished when national pride flared and the being known as Modern Man turned into a screaming chimpanzee with a machine-gun, perverting the material and intellectual accomplishments of humanity for the cause of destruction -- hell-bent on the brutal evisceration of its enemies and too drunken with anger, grief, and war-lust to stop the bloodshed. To End All Wars delivers the full scope of the horror and makes it personal, but offers the reader inspiration and hope in the midst of lunacy by partially focusing on the lives of those who stood against the great madness.
To End all Wars consists of two intertwined narratives: the first is a general history of the great war, which is surprisingly detailed. In spite of the book's brevity, Hochschild managed to convey not only the essential course of the war (generally focusing on the Western Front), but an astonishing amount of pertinent details and background information -- like the peculiarities and horrors of trench warfare and the requirements of this, the first great industrial conflict that demanded 70% of a nation's active resources to maintain. Hochschild's narrative makes the inhumane conditions , chronic and massive destruction of life, and utter pointlessness more obvious than any other Great War book I've read save soldiers' memoirs. The effect is all the more poignant to the reader because those who perish are not nameless: they are the loved ones of people we know personally.
The other entwined half of To End All Wars is a personal history of Britain in the last decades of the 19th century and during the Great War. Hochschild introduces a handful of individuals from varied classes and backgrounds who will each play their separate roles in the war to come. Some, like the miner-turned-politician Keir Hardy, will resist the war and be literally heartbroken by its initial popularity. Others, like Sir John French, will devote themselves to the Glory of the Realm and fight on come hell, high water, or Bolshevik revolution. This portion begins with Queen Victoria's Diamond Jubilee and chronicles the battle for expanded voting rights and social justice. Suffragettes are particularly visible, and the story of their fight astonished and delighted me. How can a reader resist the charm of women who back furniture trucks into Paraliment's doors and deploy a dozen or so suffragists to storm inside and shout "VOTES FOR WOMEN!", joined by comrades rappelling through the ceiling skylights? This is the kind of lively drama that conventional history texts miss completely.
Among the ranks of these lives -- through whom we witness the expansion of empire and the full horror of war -- are heroes and villains, champions of the human spirit and aristocrats consumed by wealth and vanity. Few of them, however, are predictable. Charlotte Despard, one of the more heroic figures in the text, was as ardent a populist champion as Eugene Debs -- but her brother was Sir John French. Emmeline Pankhurst starts the book out as a socialist suffragette who attempts to blow up the prime minister's home with him in it -- but once the war starts, she becomes said minister's staunch ally and denounces any and all who question her. The effects the war had on personal relationships is fascinating: Emmeline and the minister, once enemies, became allies -- and Emmeline and two of her pacifist daughters, once comrades-in-arms, became strangers to one another. Other notable figures include Bertrand Russell and Rudyard Kipling, two literary-intellectual figures whose stances were in opposition. While Kipling produces poetry, stories, and essays praising war and the Honor of the Nation and denouncing Germans as subhuman, persistent enemies of civilization, Russell stands sadly in the rain and watches his countrymen cheer the deaths of human beings simply because their last names are different. (He's later thrown into jail for opposing the war.)
To End All Wars is an exceptional read. Its narrative of the war, slightly marred by an American bias toward the Allies, would function well as a general introduction to the war, but the personal accounts make the book golden. The stories of those who stand against 'man's blind indifference to his fellow man', who oppose the inhumanity of their government's actions, are inspirational enough, but their treatment at the hands of their fellow citizens serves to remind readers of other, more subtle costs of war -- moral corruption. Though Woodrow Wilson disingenuously referred to the war as a defense of democracy, there's little democracy to be seen in the actions of Britain's government. Those who do not enthusiastically support the war and the government are spied on, denounced, stoned, imprisoned, vilified by the press, and lined up to be shot. Though this is a story of the Great War, the 'war to end all wars', its most important story is that of the pacifists, the socialists, the principled Christians, and the internationalist intellectuals who saw the war as futile, pointless, and the only true enemy of any nation. While scenes of the destruction and death were emotionally difficult to read, the lives of those few provided a ray of hope, and their vindication at war's end finishes the book on a somber, somewhat relieved note.
Related:
- The Vertigo Years: Europe, 1900-1914, Phillip Blom
- A People's History of the 20th Century, Howard Zinn
- The Great War in Modern Memory, Paul Fussell
- All Quiet on the Western Front, Erich Maria Remarque
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Go Go Gadget Literature....?
When I step into this library, I cannot understand why I ever step out of it.
- Marie de Sevigne
Change is inescapable. As a student of history, I've realized that nothing, no matter how wonderful or precious, endures forever. We as people change with our experiences; life, language, and landscapes continue to evolve with use and time, and even the stoutest mountains melt away under the withering of wind and rain. I realize this the more I get older, and it's something of a solace: the wisdom in knowing that things must change allows me to make peace with the fact that the change is happening.
Even so, the rising popularity of e-readers makes me thump my nonexistent cane on the ground, scowl at the nonexistent kids on my lawn, and yell "You kids get those gadgets off my grass and outta my life!". The philosopher in me knows that if books wither away under the barrage of e-readers with cloyingly cute names like 'Kindle' and 'Nook', the circumstances of such a defeat are out of my control, and thus not fit to get bothered about. I was a book-lover before I was a philosopher, though, and I can no more accept the decline of books than I can watch them be burned at the hands of those incapable of appreciating the ideas they contain.
Part me believes, and cries in a protest borne of fear about books' potential decline, that those who prefer electronic literature have failed to appreciate books as an art form. This is a feeling, a reaction. I know that to some people, a book is just an object with ideas in it and they can get those ideas from another object, this one with a glowing screen, just as easily. But books aren't just objects to me, they're....beautiful wonders. I love the feel of books, the smell of ink and paper, the texture of those pages, the stylized fonts whose ink gleams in the light. I enjoy them all the more as they age -- as the pages yellow, as they take on the scents of owners and bookcases, as they acquire a history of their own. I keep books all around me -- piled around my home, in my car. They're on my person, if I travel -- tucked into my jeans or jacket pockets. I'm a genuine bibliophile.
I like books too much to accept substitutes, which is all e-readers will ever be to me. I'm told they can hold hundreds of books at once, and I'll admit that's a great convenience. It's also something of a liability, though, a case of putting one's eggs all in one basket. E-readers can be broken, fried, or otherwise rendered inoperative -- and repair of electronic gadgets is increasingly difficult, if not impossible in the case of those oh-so-vulnerable LCD screens. Amazon can simply delete the books on your Kindle if it desires -- and it has. It's possible that book publishers will send you another e-reader to ensure you continue buying their stock, but it is not wise to count on the charity of those who seek profit. As for me, I like my libraries to have physical form -- I like holding a book in my hands, turning the pages, feeling that physical presence, knowing that it is real. It can't be deleted or corrupted by a software glitch. It's there. It can be destroyed, but it will last longer than me and can endure things I cannot. I wouldn't survive a fall from a skyscraper, for instance, but a book can. Its cover will be battered and perhaps a bit dirty, but it will survive.
It remains to be seen, however, if books will survive humanity's obsession with immediacy and convenience. Maybe it's the neo-Luddite in me, but I've stopped being convinced by claims to convenience, for all too often authenticity loses out in the bargain. In the United States, downtown streets have been turned into boarded-up ruins for convenience's sake, as the glories of the free market prefer box stores in the suburbs staffed by unhappy peons to corner groceries. Once upon a time, Broad Street in my hometown (Selma, AL) used to have pedestrians. Every building had a bustling business in it, and above those buildings were more offices and even apartments where people lived. I never knew this until I started talking to people who lived in those days and began reading books -- for now, a walk down Broad Street reveals only a scattering of operating shops. The upstairs are boarded up, and many of the buildings are condemned for lack of maintenance. No one lives there anymore: those buildings have lost their souls.
That, I fear, may one day happen to literature -- that it will lose its soul and become nothing more than data tucked away inside a glowing gadget composed of a plastic case and rubber buttons. E-readers have a lot going for them, and I'll admit to using GoogleBooks to find a specific passage containing choice quotations instead of doing a page-by-page search myself. Perhaps the conversion of literature into digital information is unavoidable. Perhaps one day, as in Star Trek, those who hold on to bound books will be seen as idiosyncratic intellectuals stuck in the past, holding on to antiquities -- but if that's the case, I intend on being one of them.
"To each his own, Number One."
The title is a reference to those old Inspector Gadget cartoons starring a man whose suit can spawn virtually every tool he needs, from helicopters to grappling hooks.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
This Week at the Library (5 Jan - 12 January)
Slow week at the library this week, in part because I'm just starting to get over a rather miserable cold and in part because the books I checked out at the library weren't what I was expecting. I went to the library hoping to start Bernard Cornwell's Arthurian legends series, but the entire set of books seemed missing. After inquiring with the librarians, who promised to look, I decided to settle for Redcoat, a story of a presumably British soldier during the American War of Independence. It hasn't caught my fancy enough to read just yet, though.
I also checked out The Mind of Egypt after wandering about the library for nearly an hour and finding nothing of interest. (I was sick and tired at the time.) I figured this would be a cultural history of Egypt, covering Egyptian philosophy, religion, and science. Instead it seems to be about the Egyptian understanding of time -- which is interesting, but not exactly attractive at the moment.
Instead, I spent most of the week reading The Evolution of God, a brief history of the Abrahamic god and how religious beliefs about him have changed through time. Robert Wright focused on the religions' "home society's" role in influencing their development, which has a lot ot offer but which is not a complete story as he tends to ignore big-picture elements (like outside influences on a given society's religion).
Earlier in the week I read Reunion, a Michael Jan Friedman novel which introduced the Stargazer characters and had one of them try to kill the others. While Death in Winter spoiled me for for the 'whodunit', working out 'whytheydunit' proved to be just as interesting for me. Fairly enjoyable.
I also read a wide swath of Isaac Asimov: the Complete Stories, volume two, and worked on The Age of Absurdity by Michael Foley. I got odd looks reading this one while watching NCIS with the advertising muted.
Reunion: 7.4
Evolution of God: 8.1
Potentials for next week:
I also checked out The Mind of Egypt after wandering about the library for nearly an hour and finding nothing of interest. (I was sick and tired at the time.) I figured this would be a cultural history of Egypt, covering Egyptian philosophy, religion, and science. Instead it seems to be about the Egyptian understanding of time -- which is interesting, but not exactly attractive at the moment.
Instead, I spent most of the week reading The Evolution of God, a brief history of the Abrahamic god and how religious beliefs about him have changed through time. Robert Wright focused on the religions' "home society's" role in influencing their development, which has a lot ot offer but which is not a complete story as he tends to ignore big-picture elements (like outside influences on a given society's religion).
Earlier in the week I read Reunion, a Michael Jan Friedman novel which introduced the Stargazer characters and had one of them try to kill the others. While Death in Winter spoiled me for for the 'whodunit', working out 'whytheydunit' proved to be just as interesting for me. Fairly enjoyable.
I also read a wide swath of Isaac Asimov: the Complete Stories, volume two, and worked on The Age of Absurdity by Michael Foley. I got odd looks reading this one while watching NCIS with the advertising muted.
Reunion: 7.4
Evolution of God: 8.1
Potentials for next week:
- To End All Wars, Adam Hochschild. For the first time ever, I am reading an advanced review copy of a book, thanks to Baley over at The Reader's Book Blog for suggesting I check out a particular site, NetGalleys. It's a personal/social history of the Great War, featuring various pairs of individuals who were divided in their decision to support or protest the war. Quite good so far.
- The Age of Absurdity, Michael Foley. This is slow so far, but enjoyable. I think I'm on the outside of this cold, so hopefully my pace will pick up this week.
- Sex on Six Legs, a science book from NetGalleys. Haven't started reading it yet, but part of the reason I registered at NetGalleys was to see if I could use it to find interesting science books. Unfortunately, most of them are questionable -- new age stuff and the odd book about why Jesus doesn't have science -- but this one is about a respectable subject, insect sex.
- Something by Bernard Cornwell. I may give Redcoat a go, or when I vist the library next I'll see if I can find Arthur or Agincourt checked in.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Teaser Tuesday (11 January)
It's teasin' Tuesday again, but this week I'm going to do something different. "What, cheat? You always do that." No, no. Well, yes -- but not as much, and for a far nobler purpose than my own amusement. I'm going post a teaser from a single current read (as opposed to two or three), but pair it with a...similar quotation from a different book, for comparison's sake.
And the ad is no longer content to be passively observed. You no longer decode the ad, it decodes you. The latest digital billboards have concealed cameras and software that establish who is looking and display the appropriate ad -- so a young man will see a bimbo advertising beer and a middle-aged woman will get details of a pampering-day offer at a health spa. Eventually these billboards will be able to recognize individuals and personalize the offering -- seducing me with great 2-for-1 deals on Chinese poetry and hard-bop jazz.
The Age of Absurdity: Why Modern Life Makes it Hard to be Happy, Michael Foley
Interactive advertising panels, which were linked to the city's central database, contained sensors that detected the identichips of persons passing by on the street. The city's AI used the identichip codes to look up each citizen's purchasing history and economic profile, and it used that data to deliver targeted advertising tailored for maximum enticement. [..] In addition to being used for crass commercial profit, the system was a key tool of the BID, which used the network to monitor the movement and habits of Breen civilians and construct virtual models to suss out suspect behavior.
p. 120, Star Trek Typhon Pact: Zero Sum Game. David Mack.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Top Tenish Booking Resolutions
We're only in the second week of the New Year, so it's not too late to make resolutions: the Broke and the Bookish is calling for biblio-blogging-related resolutions this wear. I'm not actually much for resolutions, but the yearly changeover does provide a nice opportunity to consider goals for the next few months.
1. Think about upgrading the blog template this year. May will mark four years of weekly visits to the library, and as content as I am with the blog's current look I suppose a change is in order. I'm quite pleased with the new look for my philosophy/humanities blog, which is encouraging. I don't have any ideas currently, though: I've considered making a photograph of my home library the background, but I suspect the blog itself would obscure most of the picture.
2. Read more science. In 2009, I remarked that my science reading seemed down -- and it slipped further last year. I don't wish to continue that kind of trend, so when I have spending money perhaps I should divert it toward pop-science books instead of more Star Trek paperbacks...
3. Continue in my 'religious/cultural literacy' private studies, especially in regards to Hinduism. I've only read the Gita.
4. Continue reading classic literature and books which played significant role in human history, though I wouldn't expect The Wealth of Nations or Das Kapital to make any appearances. ;-)
5. Take those ten "to be read' books from last year seriously. I'm reading one at present for leisure reading, and I could very well finish it soon. It's an anthology, though, so it's not as if stopping in the middle would prevent me from resuming it in the future.
6. As finances allow, look into reading more translations from Stephen Mitchell. He translates and interprets classical and religious literature, and I'm particularly interested in his version of the Epic of Gilgamesh. He's one of those authors I want to read more of, yet never think about when I'm approaching Amazon with my debit card in hand.
7. Stay active in the biblio-blogging community. I started following Teaser Tuesday, Top Ten Tuesdays, and Booking through Thursday this year and have met a number of fellow readers who enjoy writing about the books they're engaged with. I'd like to become more active, though not necessarily in the meme-following sense. (Three is enough,, I think..)
8. Maybe...use Twitter more. Though it comes as a great surprise to some people, I actually have a twitter feed. I signed up....at some point within the last two years so I could follow Darth Vader. The initial posts were personal ("Psychology professor just walked in on me while listening to "Call Me" by Go West."), but this year I started commenting on the books I was reading. I think I should comment on little discoveries as I'm reading, instead of just saying which book I've started. I could use it as a record of odd tidbits.
9. Follow up on old leads. Alison Weir was supposed to be a great discovery for my history reading, but I..forgot about her nonfiction works. Not sure how I managed that given that her biography of Elizabeth I sits openly on the shelves above my computer.
10. Continue enjoying Top Ten Tuesdays, of course!
1. Think about upgrading the blog template this year. May will mark four years of weekly visits to the library, and as content as I am with the blog's current look I suppose a change is in order. I'm quite pleased with the new look for my philosophy/humanities blog, which is encouraging. I don't have any ideas currently, though: I've considered making a photograph of my home library the background, but I suspect the blog itself would obscure most of the picture.
2. Read more science. In 2009, I remarked that my science reading seemed down -- and it slipped further last year. I don't wish to continue that kind of trend, so when I have spending money perhaps I should divert it toward pop-science books instead of more Star Trek paperbacks...
3. Continue in my 'religious/cultural literacy' private studies, especially in regards to Hinduism. I've only read the Gita.
4. Continue reading classic literature and books which played significant role in human history, though I wouldn't expect The Wealth of Nations or Das Kapital to make any appearances. ;-)
5. Take those ten "to be read' books from last year seriously. I'm reading one at present for leisure reading, and I could very well finish it soon. It's an anthology, though, so it's not as if stopping in the middle would prevent me from resuming it in the future.
6. As finances allow, look into reading more translations from Stephen Mitchell. He translates and interprets classical and religious literature, and I'm particularly interested in his version of the Epic of Gilgamesh. He's one of those authors I want to read more of, yet never think about when I'm approaching Amazon with my debit card in hand.
7. Stay active in the biblio-blogging community. I started following Teaser Tuesday, Top Ten Tuesdays, and Booking through Thursday this year and have met a number of fellow readers who enjoy writing about the books they're engaged with. I'd like to become more active, though not necessarily in the meme-following sense. (Three is enough,, I think..)
8. Maybe...use Twitter more. Though it comes as a great surprise to some people, I actually have a twitter feed. I signed up....at some point within the last two years so I could follow Darth Vader. The initial posts were personal ("Psychology professor just walked in on me while listening to "Call Me" by Go West."), but this year I started commenting on the books I was reading. I think I should comment on little discoveries as I'm reading, instead of just saying which book I've started. I could use it as a record of odd tidbits.
9. Follow up on old leads. Alison Weir was supposed to be a great discovery for my history reading, but I..forgot about her nonfiction works. Not sure how I managed that given that her biography of Elizabeth I sits openly on the shelves above my computer.
10. Continue enjoying Top Ten Tuesdays, of course!
Sunday, January 9, 2011
The Evolution of God
The Evolution of God
© 2009 Robert Wright
576 pages
Evolutionary psychologist Robert Wright uses the concepts of natural morality and the 'moral imagination' to understand the growth and (arguably) increasing maturity of the three Abrahamic religions -- Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. He moves swiftly from primitive hunter-gatherer mysticism to Jewish monotheism and through to the rise of radical Islam in four hundred pages, engaging in a casual conversation with the reader about topics like salvation, sin, and God. In the final hundred or so pages, Wright offers concluding thoughts and expresses hope that the three "we're so very special" religions will one day calm down and learn to work together. He believes this is possible, and even probable, because natural selection has equipped human beings with the ability to recognize potentially productive social bonds and either improve or move beyond religion and custom to engage in healthy relationships with other people.
In Wright's view, religion developed to effect and maintain social cohesion and order. Religion grows, shrinks, and otherwise adapts to serve society's needs. It can bring tribes together for productive purposes, or unite them against a common enemy. When a society needs peace and tolerance, the invented scriptures or interpretation of existing scriptures promote goodwill: when the society 'needs' or would profit by aggression and war, the creation and use of scriptures changes accordingly: thus, Muhammad promotes a live-and-live-live policy when attempting to lead a mixed Arab-and Jewish community, but shouts "Kill the infidels/polytheists wherever you find them" when leading assaults on his community's enemies.
There's much of value in The Evolution of God. Those completely new to understanding religion from a natural perspective should find it a fascinating introduction to the subject. I have been studying and attempting to understand the growth of Judaism and Christianity for several years ago, and enjoyed the refresher. There are some ideas in here that I've not heard of -- for instance, that the biblical kingdom of Israel was formed by two unrelated tribe with similar gods, who merged their respective chief deities (Elohim and Yahweh) into one. He reveals some of the Hebrew scriptures' mythological references, and turns evaluations of Jesus on their heads by making a distinction between the 'real' Jesus and the Jesus that matters. Sure, the historical Yeshua of Nazareth may have been an apocalyptic prophet who shared his people's prejudices against non-Jews, but the Jesus the church created -- gentle Jesus meek and mild, defender of the poor and preacher of peace -- is the one people are inspired by. That is modernity's Jesus. Religion is important for what it does for people and society -- not for its initial revelations or the record of its sayings. This approach especially helped me to understand and appreciate the rapid growth of Christianity under Paul's command, as he uses it to create a network of mutually-assisting communities across the eastern Roman empire.
At the same time, his emphasis on a given society's use of religion sometimes detracted from the understanding of the religion's history: there's nary a mention of outside influences. I thought it rather odd to read about the evolution of Judaism without a single mention of Zoroastrian dualism and apocalypticism, for instance. The closest Wright comes to this in his chapters on Philo and the Logos, but even there he maintains that the idea of the Logos, that the universe itself was embedded with ideas about how people should live, occurred in other societies at the same time -- so general Greek influences are ignored as well. Wright tended to make more concessions that he needed to towards religious readers, but I suspect this is to make up for the perceived hostility of his materialistic approach.
The Evolution of God is very readable, with a fair bit to offer those new to the subject. It is limited, though, so those interested would be well-served by reading further. I have my own recommendations, naturally:
Related/Recommended Reading:
© 2009 Robert Wright
576 pages
Evolutionary psychologist Robert Wright uses the concepts of natural morality and the 'moral imagination' to understand the growth and (arguably) increasing maturity of the three Abrahamic religions -- Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. He moves swiftly from primitive hunter-gatherer mysticism to Jewish monotheism and through to the rise of radical Islam in four hundred pages, engaging in a casual conversation with the reader about topics like salvation, sin, and God. In the final hundred or so pages, Wright offers concluding thoughts and expresses hope that the three "we're so very special" religions will one day calm down and learn to work together. He believes this is possible, and even probable, because natural selection has equipped human beings with the ability to recognize potentially productive social bonds and either improve or move beyond religion and custom to engage in healthy relationships with other people.
In Wright's view, religion developed to effect and maintain social cohesion and order. Religion grows, shrinks, and otherwise adapts to serve society's needs. It can bring tribes together for productive purposes, or unite them against a common enemy. When a society needs peace and tolerance, the invented scriptures or interpretation of existing scriptures promote goodwill: when the society 'needs' or would profit by aggression and war, the creation and use of scriptures changes accordingly: thus, Muhammad promotes a live-and-live-live policy when attempting to lead a mixed Arab-and Jewish community, but shouts "Kill the infidels/polytheists wherever you find them" when leading assaults on his community's enemies.
There's much of value in The Evolution of God. Those completely new to understanding religion from a natural perspective should find it a fascinating introduction to the subject. I have been studying and attempting to understand the growth of Judaism and Christianity for several years ago, and enjoyed the refresher. There are some ideas in here that I've not heard of -- for instance, that the biblical kingdom of Israel was formed by two unrelated tribe with similar gods, who merged their respective chief deities (Elohim and Yahweh) into one. He reveals some of the Hebrew scriptures' mythological references, and turns evaluations of Jesus on their heads by making a distinction between the 'real' Jesus and the Jesus that matters. Sure, the historical Yeshua of Nazareth may have been an apocalyptic prophet who shared his people's prejudices against non-Jews, but the Jesus the church created -- gentle Jesus meek and mild, defender of the poor and preacher of peace -- is the one people are inspired by. That is modernity's Jesus. Religion is important for what it does for people and society -- not for its initial revelations or the record of its sayings. This approach especially helped me to understand and appreciate the rapid growth of Christianity under Paul's command, as he uses it to create a network of mutually-assisting communities across the eastern Roman empire.
At the same time, his emphasis on a given society's use of religion sometimes detracted from the understanding of the religion's history: there's nary a mention of outside influences. I thought it rather odd to read about the evolution of Judaism without a single mention of Zoroastrian dualism and apocalypticism, for instance. The closest Wright comes to this in his chapters on Philo and the Logos, but even there he maintains that the idea of the Logos, that the universe itself was embedded with ideas about how people should live, occurred in other societies at the same time -- so general Greek influences are ignored as well. Wright tended to make more concessions that he needed to towards religious readers, but I suspect this is to make up for the perceived hostility of his materialistic approach.
The Evolution of God is very readable, with a fair bit to offer those new to the subject. It is limited, though, so those interested would be well-served by reading further. I have my own recommendations, naturally:
Related/Recommended Reading:
- Asimov's Guide to the Bible. Asimov examines the Hebrew and Christian scriptures as human literature, not revealed and holy truths. I've only read the first volume but have been well-served by it.
- God's Problem, Bart Ehrman. Though the evolution of religion isn't a theme for Ehrman in this book, it solved a major part of the puzzle of Judaism's evolution and later spawning of Christianity for me: apocalypticism. Ehrman's written other books of interest, but I haven't read them.
- Reading Judas: the Gospel of Judas and the Shaping of Christianity, Elaine Pagels and Karen King.
- The Great Transformation, Karen Armstrong
- Persian Fire, Tom Holland. This won't tell you a thing about Judaism, but Holland writes on Zoroastrian concepts that migrated into the Judeo-Christian worldview following Israel's brief annexation by Babylon and Persia.
These are some of the books which have furthered my own understanding of Judaism and Christianity.
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