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Book Reviews Three |
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Unbroken, by Laura Hillenbrand One of my grandsons loved Unbroken and loaned me his copy. In essence, the book is an authorized biography which follows an Olympics running star from his rebellious youth, through hellish WWII experiences as a Japanese prisoner, through years of post-war alcohol addiction, to a life-changing encounter with Billy Graham, to an enjoyable and rewarding life as a senior citizen. At first I was more irritated than pleased when the text moved from providing information about the man's war experiences and technical data about military life to offering what I consider psychobabble to explain what our hero was feeling. About a third into the book, I thought, "This sounds like a woman writing." (I had paid no attention to the name of the author, so I looked at the dust cover to learn that, indeed, the writer is an award-winning woman who wrote a best-seller biography about a horse, Seabiscuit. That is not a put-down. The journalistic content of Unbroken reflects long and thorough research; Hillenbrand says she spent seven years on this one, and it shows. By mid-book, I realized I was reading two books-in-one, side-by-side. During her description of a bombing run, for example, I learned about the relative danger of different types of anti-aircraft fire and how bullets ricochet inside a bomber being attacked by Zeros. Playing with flashbacks, Hillenbrand relates feelings experienced during actual combat with emotions previously experienced in civilian life. She does this not only with our bombardier lead character, but also with several of his buddies -- and even with the depraved and brutal prison guard who was so notorious that he was declared a war criminal. Eventually, I lost my irritation at the author's insertion of flowery language in the midst of an excellent description of a shark attack and simply enjoyed its overall depiction of the best and worst that men do in war, and afterwards. (An aside: I am currently re-reading Churchill's 6-volume The Second World War. In the middle of very serious text about battles and politics, Churchill occasionally goes flowery. I'm guessing it broke the tension for him.) Versagi Voice readers may have noticed that I have not named the man about whom the book was written. He is Louis Zamperini. In truth, Laura Hillenbrand's writing made him come through, for me, as an individual who is symbolic of a specific temperament and background. I mention that because if one is not also interested in war experiences for their own sake, Zamperini is not a strong enough hero to justify the 400-plus pages of this book. Excellent notes and index, though, make Unbroken a useful reference work about matters military and historical. Extraordinary, Ordinary People, by
Condoleezza Rice Not having read any of the reviews, I assumed a book by a former Secretary of State who had served two presidents would be all about public affairs, about war and peace. It turns out that what Condoleezza Rice had in mind was showing how extraordinarily ordinary people can perform -- in public and private life. So 30 of the book's 38 chapters deal with family, friends, colleagues, superiors, and subordinates in her personal and academic life. Condi is born in the first chapter, her father dies in the last chapter. Mildly interesting in their own way are her memories of growing up; of learning the pluses and minuses of being a bright black female; of occasionally mistaking a rebuff as being racially motivated; of being repeatedly praised for her accomplishments -- except for her musical ability. Rice neither dwells on nor avoids the issue of race. She mentions it when it matters, as when she recalls being accused of being against affirmative action after, supposedly, having benefited from it. Her descriptions of her own behavior led me to think of her as a spoiled brat, mooching off her parents into her mid-twenties. Then I saw that same self-directed and arrogant demeanor serve our nation well. Through it all, Condi reveals deep love and respect for her parents, coming a bit late to recognize that their financial problems late in life resulted in large part from the demands she had made on them in her youth. Using the same quiet narrative style through the chapters dealing with personal and professional life at Stanford, at the Pentagon, in the White House, Rice is neither boastful nor falsely humble as she relates her successes and failures, her victories and defeats. Especially insightful are what I perceived as evidence that each personality-type reacts consistently, the same way, no matter the challenge or the arena or one's station in life. The book brought to mind a phrase penned by a Holocaust survivor whose name escapes me at the moment: 'the banality of evil." It seems that ordinary people can accomplish extraordinary things -- good or bad -- whether they be fathers or preachers, junior professors or provosts, privates or presidents. That being the case, the book is refreshingly free of extraneous name-dropping. Famous individuals like Colin Powell, Boris Yeltsin, the two Presidents Bush, James Baker, Gorbachev simply appear as they become part of the narrative, just as do the names of boyfriends and teachers. A pleasant read, overall.
Decision Points, by George W. Bush As one example, one would have to insist that Bush is lying, to dismiss his passing mention that the "Mission Accomplished" banner on that ship was done by the crew to boast about their ship's participation in overall Iraq combat. Another example: the cynic will insist that the moments of pause when Bush was whispered news about the 9/11 attacks revealed indecision or fear. The cynic will not believe Bush took those moments to decide that it would not be wise to frighten the children to whom he was reading or the public-at-large by scurrying off the stage. Bush's recall of decision-making conversations with the likes of Colin Powell and Dick Cheney or Don Rumsfeld and Condoleezza Rice clearly relate how differences of opinion were voiced and addressed. That's good history, whatever one's feelings about the specific issues or the personalities. Similar descriptions of successful and failed endeavors deliver human and operational dimensions to debates over such issues as education and health care, social security and immigration. His arranging chapters by topic, rather than chronologically, provides the reader with context for each important decision or event. It's a bit like the use of flashbacks in movies. Hence the title: "Decision Points." This is contemporary history at its best, and it is a must-read for those with an open mind. Long-term historical judgment won't arrive for two or three decades. It is appropriate here to quote Theodore Roosevelt, our 26th President: It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena. Those who prefer cult-of-personality history or politics would do better to read the youthful autobiographies of individuals who haven't yet achieved much, other than personal acclaim. Who were the Early Israelites and Where Did They Come From? This book will (a) dismay and anger those who believe the Old Testament is sacred literature; (b) interest those who consider the Bible a mixture of religious literature and sometimes inaccurate secular history; (c) add to the puzzlements of agnostics; and (d) please atheists. Dever is an archaeologist and he describes detailed archaeological research which, in his mind, calls into doubt the historical content of much the Old Testament, especially the Exodus from Egypt and the Conquest of the Canaanites. The book is technical enough to be studied scientifically, yet narrative enough to be appreciated by general readers. Only a handful of brief excerpts are needed to provide VersagiVoice readers with enough information to help them decide whether they want to acquire the book. "No Egyptian text ever found contains a single reference to 'Hebrews" or 'Israelites' in Egypt, much less to an 'Exodus.'" Dever immediately acknowledges the expected rebuttal that Egyptians wouldn't record a major military defeat, then adds, "But archaeology may tell us a different story." -- page 13 "Of more than forty sites that the biblical texts claim were conquered, no more than two or three of those that have been archaeologically investigated are even potential candidates for such an Israelite destruction in the entire period from ca. 1250-1150 B.C." -- p 71 [Of the books Exodus and Numbers] " . . . their accounts of escape from Egypt, of wandering in the wilderness, and of massive conquests in Transjordan are overwhelmingly contradicted by the archaeological evidence. . . . There is little real history in these books, although there may be some vague memories of actual events." -- p 227 [Re the conquest and settlement of Canaan in Joshua and Judges] "It simply did not happen; the archaeological evidence is indisputable." -- p 228 As revisionists of the New Testament have done, Dever spends considerable time trying to fix the time of writing of the books and who the real authors were and what they were really trying to say. It is disconcerting to read that Joseph story is questionable; that there probably was never a Jericho; that there may have been a Moses-like character but not the miracle-performing Moses of the Bible; that some of the writers were so mistaken as to erroneously project an existing city into the past -- before its founding -- to authenticate the story they were creating. Most surprising is Dever's contention that the Israelites didn't conquer the Canaanites, but that they were a Canaanite tribe themselves, which later became an identifiable ethnic group. Also as do some other critics of writing considered sacred by hundreds of millions, Deven gently tries to soften the blow of his book by citing the longevity and positive effects of Old Testament stories ("myths"), but the book is almost a physical blow to a devout believer, Jewish or Christian.
Powers and Principalities, by Dan Calabrese Then there are fictional versions of our police chief and mayor, and a very realistic re-creation of one of those city commission meetings crowded with angry residents. All pleasant reading. But the way Calabrese deals with the plots and subplots -- sci-fi/detective, spiritual/religious, romance -- is far from pleasant. In the signed copy of the book which Dan gave me, he writes that the book is "edgy, raw and disturbing," and it is. Demons are important characters in the sci-fi/detective subplot. Dan names some of them, permits a couple of his characters to speak with them. The demons behave a bit like the aliens in science fiction, except that they not only can affect physical phenomena, like the flow of electricity, but also can possess individuals or cause even unposessed individuals to behave badly. The demons are sometimes so tangible that the book's main character is able to grab one by the throat. The sci-fi subplot is simultaneously a detective story. The demons have a need to destroy Royal Oak, and readers follow the human characters in trying to learn why, and which humans the demons are using to accomplish their goal. About romance, which Calabrese seems to equate exclusively with sexual passion, the beasts are forever tempting or coercing people to behave immorally. Hence, the spiritual/religious component in Powers which Calabrese expands to demonstrate the power of Christian prayer in overcoming evil. Unfortunately, the author's conception of evil seems limited to drinking and sex. Well, mostly sex. Using Catholic terms, I would say that Calabrese considers drinking a venial sin and sex a mortal sin. (For those unfamiliar with that distinction: If you die with unforgiven venial sins on your soul, you go to Purgatory, from where you can be released if enough people pray for you. Die with mortal sins on your soul, you go to Hell, forever.) Fiction writers are sometimes advised to include at least one OSS (Obligatory Sex Scene) in a book. Dan saturates his pages with sex scenes, using descriptions which fit his use of the term "edgy, raw and disturbing" in his note to me. And his important characters never outgrow their adolescent use of language not used in polite company. Powers and Principalities is not a book for polite company. Calabrese's writing is uneven but engaging if one can get past the titillation or disgust generated by some of his pages. The unevenness shows most when one compares his strong descriptions of evil with his rather wimpy use of Biblical citations with which the demons are defeated. And like so many mystery writers, Dan uses the last chapter -- a la Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot -- to tie up loose ends which might leave readers wondering or confused if left dangling. Author Dan Calabrese, a native Royal Oaker now living in Grand Rapids, sat for a book-signing 04 February, at Royal Oak's Barnes & Noble. I had hoped to spend an hour with the author before publishing this review, but our schedules made a meeting impossible. Perhaps we can arrange a future coffee conversation.
Dan and I met, appropriately, in the Barnes & Noble
coffee shop. He has drafted the first two chapters of a sequel, in which his three main characters will have new experiences, also set in Royal Oak. Dan leaked one detail: "I destroy __________[a downtown location]." The book-signing went well. An earlier radio interview and some Facebook exchanges led to former classmates from Shrine and family and former friends and acquaintances from Royal Oak and elsewhere queuing up for an hour-and-a-half. Barnes & Noble had called him for more books; hence our arranging to meet there the day he delivered them. We compared experiences about the creative and marketing aspects of writing, and we agreed that the God-given talent to write opens many doors in the private and public sectors. Dan's entrepreneurial mindset generates multiple and diverse markets for that talent -- trade journal through public relations to his first novel. Along the way he and wife operate a business entity which puts their respective creative and marketing skills to for themselves and for other writers.
During our several email-exchanges, Dan wrote the following comments about my
review of his book.
"My only quibble is this: Where did I have
Pleasant running into Sherman? My main character walks down Pleasant on his
way to Edgewood, whereas Sherman is portrayed as intersecting with 11 Mile
where the Whittier Substation is located, and of course the big shootout
happens on Sherman at 11 Mile.
"People surely can and will question my
theological doctrine, but I'm pretty sure I got my geography right!"
The Europeans, by Luigi Barzini The United States is included because Continental statesman can, must, never forget that, "A wrong guess may spell disaster, as it did when Napoleon II sent Maximilian to Mexico in violation of the Monroe Doctrine; when Kaiser Wilhelm II and Hitler thought the United States would not fight a European War; or when the North Koreans believed the Americans would not defend South Korea." As Barzini did in The Italians, he fails to do more than prove that it is impossible for anyone to describe the typical native of any country. In my travels abroad, for example, I suggested that Chicago is the most typical city in the United States, not New York or New Orleans or San Francisco. Nor is an Appalachian White more typical than a Detroit Black. That said, here are excerpts from Barzini's work. The British The Germans The French Recalling that from 1870 France went to war with Germany three times and lost all three wars, Barzini foresaw that France would move to become partners with Germany in the hope that "the two nations together" might dominate Europe. The Italians Barzini opens his essay with those unappealing words and carries the same pessimistic tone through his review of political developments. Contending that Italy is still more a geographical concept that a nation of very different peoples, he suggests Italians are willing to live with "public lies" and "private truths." Those phrases are intended to help explain his countrymen's distrust of all governments, at all levels. He sees that duality as inherent and unchangeable and points out that those same characteristics account for Italian greatness in such arenas as art and music and literature. Moving to the military arena, Barzini asks, "Are Italians always bad soldiers?" then goes on to cite impressive military achievements over the centuries -- not counting the Roman Empire. He describes Italy's 1950s economic miracle, the country's near takeover by Communists, its love-hate relationship with the Vatican, its "well-intentioned but suffocating new legislation," the "ill-informed pressure of trade unions" before concluding that Italians may never achieve enough self-confidence to assume dominance in international economic or political affairs. The Dutch Giving up, Barzini concludes this chapter by letting the Dutch speak for themselves with the following statement by the Dutch State Secretary:
You got that? The Americans That has changed since this book was written. European integration has gone far beyond what some had hoped for or feared, but not as far as others had hoped for or feared. There is a strong economic community. The euro has become the continent's currency. A European parliament exists. But, Europe is no where near being able to defend itself if a real military threat develops. I have previously reviewed how France's attitude toward America has remained simultaneously respectful and fearful throughout our recent history. Ain't Nobody's Business If I Do, by
Peter McWilliams Throughout the book, the author uses "consensual crimes" as a leitmotif, whatever the specific topic. His definition: "A consensual crime is any activity -- currently illegal -- in which we, as adults, choose to participate that does not physically harm the person or property of another." Along the way, we have: "In addition to police, judges, prosecutors, and politicians, organized crime also has on the payroll doctors, scientists, and journalists in all media whose job it is to predict and report how terrible life would be if consensual crimes were legalized." A sample of of the 68 chapter titles in this 800-page book conveys McWilliams's subject matter and tone. Personal Morality Versus Social Morality . . . Prohibition: A Lesson in the Futility (and Danger) of Prohibiting . . .Laws against Consensual Activities are Unconstitutional . . . Laws against Consensual Activities Violate the Separation of Church and State . . . Laws against Consensual Activities Discriminate against the Poor, Minorities, and Women . . . The Titanic Laws: Public Drunkenness, Loitering, Vagrancy, Seat Belts, Motorcycle Helmets, Public Nudity, Transvestitism. McWilliams's in-your-face style sometimes makes it difficult for a reader not to get caught up in anger or delight and miss his intellectual arguments, of which he offers many. In the chapter on The Laws of Moses, the writer quotes chapter after chapter and verse after verse without comment until -- at the end -- when he suggests how impossible it must have been for anyone to live without sinning many times every day. Before that point, however, anyone who does not consider sacred every word in the Bible becomes discomfited reading about some of the barbaric beliefs and practices of a nomadic tribe. McWilliams also exasperates the reader, because he too many times seems to be tape-recording his stream-of-consciousness. He rambles off-topic at length before refocusing. Most writers would have edited and shortened those turgid excursions. Whether from vanity or just for fun, McWilliams printed them. What does McWilliams conclude? On page 759, his chapter,
The Politics of Change, begins: "The single most effective form of change is one-on-one interaction with the people you come into contact with day-by-day. The next time someone condemns a consensual activity in your presence, for example, you can ask the simple question, 'Well, isn't that their own business?'" The chapter goes on to suggest such activities as writing letters to the editor, dealing with local governmental officials, and providing influential people with copies of this book. The fun of reading Several times a year, I take a break from studious reading and do some recreational browsing, an adventure novel for example. It is even more fun to pick up such books as my copy of The Complete Sherlock Holmes and dip in at random. This week I dipped into my old volume of Edgar Allan Poe's Tales of Mystery and Imagination and happened onto the too-flowery opening reproduced below. I puzzled a few minutes about what Poe's prose reminded me of before I related it to a prose version of Virgil's The Aeneid. Then I couldn't resist comparing the prose version with the Great Books English translation from the original Latin of Virgil's epic poem. I chose to work with the opening lines of Book IV. [More] The opening lines from Poe's "William Wilson."
Book IV of The Aeneid is titled "The Love of Dido, and Her End," in a prose translation out of Britain, imported to the U.S. by Barnes & Noble. The opening lines
In the Great Books Collection, The Poems of Virgil ("translated into English verse"), Book IV carries no title, and the following lines bring us to point where the Queen speaks to her sister:
Why, besides for fun, would any non-academic read such
writing today?
I did this whole piece for fun.--
Oct 2008
The Day of the Confederacy, by Nathaniel w. Stephenson The South had to deal with what we now call peaceniks.
". . . for Horace Greeley and many another, sprang up the notion that if
only all their sort could be brought together for talk and talk and yet
more talk . . . " Peace societies formed in both the North and the
South. Both Presidents found it necessary to suspend habeas
corpus, both resorted to conscription. Other secret societies encouraged
desertion. (In the North, there were secret societies which favored the
South.) The Confederacy's Congress fought Davis on many things,
along party lines. The parties tended to be identified by 1) whether
they had originally favored or opposed secession and 2) whether they
were among the states which considered their state's needs superior to
the needs of the Confederacy and 3) their opinion of Davis. Some saw the
Confederacy as a new nation forming on the continent; others wanted to
be free of any central government, North or South. Today's
advocates for "states' rights" are the descendants of that group.
Georgia was tempted for a while to negotiate peace directly with the
North. The South's economy was hard hit, especially since it
had no substantial industry other than cotton. No manufacturers of arms,
for example. The economy suffered. One telltale sign was that newspapers
were limited to a single sheet. Another was that the bandit-raiders,
whom today's movies have tended to romanticize, were that day's
terrorists -- made up largely of the unemployed and deserters from the
Confederate army. Davis, like Lincoln, worked his way through many
incompetent and passive generals before Robert E. Lee became Davis's
Ulysses S. Grant. Lincoln's Cabinet, labeled a "Team
of Rivals" by Doris Kearns Goodwin, was apparently paralleled by
Davis's, and both presidents were accused of seeking dictatorial power. The press in the South was sharply split about Davis;
influential papers praised or belittled him. Like today's media,
opposing newspapers distorted the meaning of statements taken out of
context. One example was their turning into a negative Davis's praise of
a general's loyalty who would do whatever the President asked him to do. At one point, there was a movement to encourage Lee to
take charge of the government. There were shortages of the necessities of life; there
were price controls; there was rationing; there were riots here and
there about this or that. The South attempted unsuccessfully to get foreign
countries, especially England and Spain, to recognize it as a nation.
Some of the Confederate leaders were willing to agree to return to
Mexico the land won during the Mexican War, if Spain would recognize the
Confederacy. All that in this little book which has found its way into
the library of the Royal Oak Historical Museum, where it may be read
on-site. The Ottoman Empire, by Lord Kinross So fairly does Kinross write that the reader finds himself
at various points rooting for the Christians or for the Turks. As the
history unfolds, one becomes alternately sympathetic or antagonistic toward
Bulgarians, Germans, Greeks, Russians, French, English, Serbs. Ancient
history comes alive as it flows through such countries as Kosovo, Bosnia,
Macedonia, Persia (Iran), Syria, Egypt, Cypress, Turkey -- all still in
today's headlines. Queen Elizabeth, the Spanish Armada, the French Huguenots
are placed in contexts not frequently encountered in Western-dominated
history books. Kinross is studious without being pedantic; he provides
enough detail to add color without inundating the reader with esoterica. In
no particular order, here are enough tidbits to suggest the historical
context the book provides, context which proves helpful in understanding
today's East-West or Muslim-Christian relationships. For about 300 years, France allied itself with Muslims
as part of its attempt to alter the European balance of power. Depending
on what the French diplomats had for breakfast, the European enemy or
friend would be Spain or England or Russia or Austria or Germany. As Turks developed the Ottoman Empire, the tension between
mandating sharia law throughout Islamic states, or not, became a
perennial problem. The issue expanded as the Ottomans debated the pluses
and minuses of Westernizing. At one time, Muslims -- often tolerant of Christians --
forbade the ringing of church bells at night, because the noise kept
awake the angels in mosques. [Wasn't there recent controversy in
Hamtramck about the noise of Muslim calls-to-prayer?] Macedonia epitomized the "mixture of overlapping races
and languages and religions, with imprecise geographical divisions among
them, which were in continual conflict at once with each other and with
the Turkish provincial government." "The struggle in Crete itself dragged on for a year
longer. Germany and Austria, still upholding the Sultan, defected from
the concert of powers in protest at their philhellenic policy, and
removed their own forces of occupation from the island." Kinross's treatment of the Crusades comes close to moral
relativism but balances the examples of brutalities and atrocities, as
well as the good works, of Christians and Muslims. Queen Elizabeth ". . . continuing to court Ottoman
support against her Catholic enemies, sent him a shipload of presents." After the fall of Constantinople, as the capital became
Muslim, there was debate over the role of free enterprise. According to
Kinross, the government's concern for commerce is reflected in the
following passage: "Look with favour on the merchants in the land;
always care for them; let no one order them about, for through their
trading the land becomes prosperous, and by their wares cheapness abounds
in the world; through them the excellent fame of the Sultan is carried to
surrounding lands, and by them the wealth within the land is increased."
[Globalization , anyone?] During a highly polarized period in Great Britain, Queen
Victoria threatened to lay down her crown rather than "remain the
Sovereign of a country that is letting itself down to kiss the feet of
the great barbarians, the retarders of all liberty and civilisation that
exists." The more things change . . . The Promise, by Chaim
Potok Plodding through Talmudic arguments gets in the
way of solving the real world career problems of one character and
the emotional breakdown of another. However, for a reader familiar
with the arguments among Jews about Assimilation, about whether Jews
are a religious group, or a race, or a nation, Potok presents
excellent exemplars of the extremes. For context: The notion that Jews are more a people (race or
nation) than a religion is expressed in Rabbi Philip Bernstein's
"What the Jews Believe" when he says, for example, that the
"American Jewish scene" has lost "much that made European Judaism so
rich and so glorious." And, "[T]here is no creed which all Jews
accept." Speaking from his admittedly hate-filled perspective and
referring to the group's self-identification as a people, Hitler
is reported to have said somewhere, "You are not a Frenchman, you're
a Jew; you are not a German, you're a Jew." Bernstein:
"Judaism is the sum total of the spiritual creativity of the Jewish
people. It is not a scheme of salvation." Potok touches lightly on the role of Judaism in
civic and political affairs, but he is strongest when a couple of
absolutist characters argue throughout the book about the
relationships between man and God and secular society. As a goy, I
learned much about Orthodox practices, but I admit I hurried through
those paragraphs to get back to the comings and goings of the
aspiring rabbi, his secular Jewish friend, and the emotionally
disturbed teenager. Coincidentally, my son, who owns and operates a
martial arts school in the Cleveland, Ohio, area, has a rabbi as one
of his one-on-one students. Frank (middle name Paul, not a Junior)
visited us not long after I had reread "The Promise," and I asked
him to ask the rabbi why the Orthodox rock back-and-forth when
praying. Frank's emailed reply: I
chatted with my Jewish tai chi student today and he says the
rocking during prayer is just a natural body movement of deep
prayer when you’re connected to it all. Not induced on purpose,
just what the body does when it’s relaxed and in deep
contemplative mode; which also happens at times in meditation
classes for us. The body’s energy moves around and it causes
slight rocking, sort of swaying back and forth. He also said
he’s read a number of books by Chaim Potok, says they’re all
good.….fpv Of Human Bondage, by Somerset Maugham I had forgotten those critiques until I found myself again
detesting the protagonist in the book and wondering about the reasons that
Maugham finds it so difficult not to paint every character, except one, as
physically or intellectually unlikable, or both. Maugham introduces us to Philip Carey, an 8-year-old
club-footed orphan living in a vicarage with his clergyman uncle. We follow
Philip through his school years and his adult attempts to find an occupation
he can stay with, at age 30. On the way, we watch this self-absorbed man
make and break friendships, have several sexual affairs, develop an
unhealthy obsession for a prostitute, and finally end up -- 565 pages later,
in Chapter CCXXII -- ready to marry a wholesome young thing, whose heart he
is sure to break, given his self-destructive nature. Philip Carey's (Somerset Maugham's) unlikable and
unsympathetic emotional ups and downs, and his moral vacillations, make him
now the prey, then the predator in his encounters with others. For me
the interest in the book comes from Maugham's ability to create almost
tangible descriptions of places and attitudes to which Philip is exposed,
from an accounting office to a department store, from the Bohemian artist
colony in Paris to a hospital in London, from a slum to a sandy beach. Maugham was belittled by some critics who called his unpretentious writing "clichéd." He writes short sentences
but long paragraphs. And some of those long paragraphs are essentially
speeches through which the author has his characters expound on the several
philosophies re life and death, beauty and ugliness, love and hate, duty
versus selfishness. Although a character here and there seems self-assured
to the point of being dogmatic, one comes away from Of Human Bondage
never quite sure where Carey (Maugham) stands. Maugham provides an excellent sense of
place, without the turgidity of, say, Michener. Yet, the "too-simple"
writing some critics complain of contains many focused phrases which leave
no doubt about the thought Maugham wants to convey: The need to "prevent an argument
from becoming a quarrel." Of those who claim to reject
Christianity: "You have thrown aside a creed, but you have preserved the
ethic which was based upon it." . . . "You take your morality because it
is combined with religion; you lose the religion and the morality stays
behind." "He was not one of those who can
talk of what moves him without caring whether it bores or not the people
they talk to." Of his protagonist's journey through
multiple, lonely, fleeting relationships, with men and women: "It was
the first time that Philip in his lonely life had been present in a
family circle." "Her mind was of an order that could
not deal for five minutes with the abstract." As do so many English, writers or not,
Maugham tosses off phrases like "of her class" with nonchalant
condescension which irritates
the less class-conscious, especially Americans. And the British obsession
with maintaining distinctions within each class (of vocations among the
middle class, for example, or of source of wealth among the upper class)
goes far beyond the carpenter feeling superior to the plumber or the
accountant to the policeman. Overall, Of Human Bondage remains a pleasant read,
despite Maugham's irritatingly amorphous but interesting
characters. Warlords, by Simon Berthon and Joanna Potts Drawing on hundreds of published and unpublished sources
from the U.S., UK, Canada, and Russia, the authors let the words of the four
warlords and of their staffs and kin define their characters. What is
exceptional about this 308-page book is that Berthon and Potts successfully
apply a chronological gimmick which brings history alive for those with no
sense of history and adds a useful and enjoyable collation of events for
those us who both know the history and participated in some of it. Each of the 15 chapters covers a time period. Chapter 1 is
titled "May 13-July, 1940." The last chapter is "February 3-April 11, 1945.
A prologue and an epilogue provide helpful introductory and concluding
comments. The first chapter tells us: Churchill told a
confidante: "I shall drag the United States in." Hitler angered and
puzzled his generals by ordering the German tanks to halt when the generals
wanted to continue the attack on Dunkirk. He declared Churchill
"half-mad." Roosevelt seemed to be making an unequivocal offer of
immediate and practical help to England: "We will extend to the opponents of
force all the material resources of this nation." Stalin, who at the
moment had a non-aggression pact with Hitler, was preoccupied with using his
agents in England to foment communist-inspired upheaval. In the epilogue, we have: Stalin, who already had
occupied Poland and several Balkan nations, telling the Yugoslav communists,
"This war is not as in the past. Whoever occupies a territory also imposes
on it his own social system. . . It cannot be otherwise." On April 12,
Roosevelt was having his portrait painted and doing a little
dictating when he died. On April 30, Hitler, after telling his
secretaries, "Get changed at once. A plane is leaving in an hour and will
take you south. All is lost, hopelessly lost," committed suicide.
Churchill, learning of Hitler's death, said, " I think he was perfectly
right to die like that." By collating the thoughts and actions of these four
leaders in time-slots, the authors provide simultaneously the grand sweep of
historical events and the mindsets and characters of the main characters
during
those events. The temptation is great for me to write too-long a review of
this interesting book, but
here are some pertinent passages. (Statements by the authors are in
Italics.) Showing the connections, and disconnections, between and
among events, Berthon and Potts follow the four warlords individually and
separately through battles -- like Kursk and Stalingrad and the North
African desert and D-Day -- and
meetings -- like Casablanca and Yalta. One comes away understanding a bit
more about, for example, how Roosevelt was wrong about thinking he had
established a meaningful friendship with Stalin but also wrong about
ignoring Churchill's -- yes, empire-protecting -- desire to keep the Soviets
from taking over Eastern Europe. The verdict remains split about whether
following Winston's hope to strike from Italy through the "soft-underbelly"
of Europe would have proved better than invading France. About the difference in moral tone between totalitarian
and democratic nations at war, one comes away also understanding that there
isn't that much difference. All nations operate with the philosophy of
having no permanent allies, only permanent interests and of doing what is
deemed necessary to win. Although it is correct that "you started it" is a
fair charge to make against Germany for its air raids in England, the
American and British strategy of attempting to diminish German morale by
firebombing Dresden and attacking targets of questionable military
significance was shameful. Morality aside, at the simply practical level, it is
obvious that, win or lose, totalitarian societies are much more efficient at
fighting wars than are societies whose "warlords" have to contend with
cabinets, and rule-of-law, and elections. Specific events aside, "Warlords"
is a great study re the significance, or not, of personality when
leaders make momentous decisions. The book provides an opportunity to ponder
the centuries-long debate: Do great men create events or are great men
created by events?
The Vikings, by Jonathan Wooding "God's Savages or Displaced Persons?" is one heading which
conveys the author's hope to depict Vikings and Norsemen as "individuals,
creative and humane." Wooding begins with the first recorded raid -- on the Lindisfarne
monastery, in
Scotland -- in 793. Then, using artifacts and writing, mostly by contemporary
Christians, he moves back-and-forth through history. We are reminded, for
example that, although they spoke French, the Normans who conquered the English
Celts in 1066 were Norsemen. He briefly describes their impact on Denmark,
Sweden, Iceland. The reader is introduced to the Vikings' attempts at writing
(runes), their myths, their beliefs re any afterlife (Valhalla), their
discovery of America hundreds of years before Columbus. Wooding concludes: "Their monuments are subtle, much of
their image was violent and they are not easily defined by our standards of
what is important and unimportant. Their mariners may be described as
'intrepid', until we recall how unconcernedly they went about their work. We
might call them a 'proud' people, but 'independent' is probably more the
case. Romantics have seen in them images of socialism, totalitarianism,
indomitable spirit and artfulness. "The more one looks, however, the more they seem practical
of spirit -- which, insofar as practicality is often ruthless, can be both a
positive and negative quality in our terms." The Leopard, by Giuseppe Di Lampedusa Twice I had given up reading The Leopard, put off by
the author's, for me, too long and too many descriptions of people, places,
thoughts, feelings, speculations, homes, palaces, landscapes. Great use of
words, many memorable phrases, but one has to plod through all that to
relocate the, weak, plot. The lengthy series in the previous sentence is
also characteristic of Luigi Barzini, the social/political chronicler of
Fascist Italy. I'll have to read a few more books by Italian authors to
determine if that technique is a national one or merely the preference of
these two writers. Too, Lampedusa has his characters give long speeches to
convey his own thoughts about Sicily and Sicilians (paragraph after
paragraph in quotation marks). Though, or because, he was a native Sicilian, those thoughts
are mostly black and brooding. He has almost nothing positive to say about
Sicilians or Italians, so it is difficult not to label him as one of those
intellectuals who are never comfortable praising, or hearing praise of,
their native country. There are very few bright spots and only an occasional
happy moment in The Leopard. One review described the book as "a
majestic, melancholy, and beautiful novel." Another, obviously focused on
Lampedusa's style, offered, "A masterwork . . . a superb novel in the great
tradition and the grand manner." Who should bother reading The Leopard? (1) Those who
like writing for its own sake. Lampedusa's style is brilliant. (2) Those who
want to learn a bit more about the practical impact on people's lives of the
Risorgimento. The Hidden Persuaders, by Vance Packard I stopped counting after remembering that the author drew on
more than 100 anecdotes to "prove" two questionable conclusions: (1)
Motivational research provides the power to influence behavior in serious
and scary ways, because (2) Everybody, especially women shoppers, is easily
manipulated. But Vance couldn't stop there. As the book ends, he warns us
that it is evil for employers to try to learn whether workers like to work
in groups or in cubicles; for marketers to create "unnecessary" beauty goals
in women or "long, fat cars" for men, for political parties to stage-manage
conventions. While he acknowledges that most of us consciously discount
much of what
advertisers and politicians
claim or promise, he's afraid that psychological insight sneaks
through to influence the subconscious -- even of those of us who question
whether "subconscious" is much more than jargon for what the religious call
"temptation" and the secular label "a notion" or a
"wish-thought." Using a long series of "What
is the morality of . . . ? questions, Packard conveys the fear that by the
year 2000 "biocontrolled" subjects would "never be permitted to think as
individuals." Oh, well.
Democracy in
America,
by Alexis de Tocqueville
·
" . .
. laws and manners may allow a democratic people to remain free. But
I am very far from thinking that we ought to follow the example of
the American democracy . . . I should regard it as a great
misfortune for mankind if liberty were to exist all over the world
under the same features."
·
"The
men who live in democracies are too fluctuating for a certain number
of them ever to succeed in laying down a code of good breeding, and
in forcing people to follow it."
·
[Commenting on the place of the arts In all democracies] " . . .
the taste for the useful predominates over the love of the beautiful
in the heart of man."
·
"Useful undertakings, which cannot succeed without perpetual
attention and rigorous exactitude, are frequently abandoned; for in
America, as well as in other countries, the people proceed by sudden
impulses and momentary exertions." [He could well be talking about
the frequency with which current French politics are impacted by
student strikes, trucker strikes, farmer strikes.]
·
"Aristocracies are infinitely more expert in the science of
legislation than democracies ever can be."
·
"The
men who are entrusted with the direction o public affairs in the
United States are frequently inferior, both in capacity and
morality, to those whom an aristocracy would raise to power."
·
"All
that [a man] asks of the state is, not to be disturbed in his toil,
and to be secure in his earnings." This was my
third reading of Democracy in
America. I underlined a few more passages, but the major
impression I came away with again is of the permanence of
identifiable philosophical mindsets, from Plato to Putin.
Advancements in science and technology have had almost no effect on
the theories of government, for example. It would seem that personal
temperament predisposes one toward socialism or fascism or
libertarianism. In
America, then,
thinking through and around that predisposition makes one a Democrat
or a Republican? Mini-Reviews The Children of the New Forest,
by Captain [Frederick] Marryat, a contemporary of Charles Dickens,
is a delightful novel of rustic life in the context of the political
mess of King Charles I, Oliver Cromwell, and King Charles II. Four
orphans of the gentry live disguised as a forester's
children, grow into adulthood, and take part in or are affected by
the politics of the time. Marryat's detailed
gory and distasteful descriptions of barnyard
and hunting life contain scenes which will never be shown on a
movie or television screen. A fringe benefit for me of reading this
books is mentioned in the Mini-Review immediately below. Charles II, King of England,
Scotland, and Ireland, by Ronald Hutton, is a thoroughly
researched work by an author who admits in his preface that he wrote
the biography because his previous research concerning the
Restoration had convinced him that Charles was "less appealing" than
his reputation suggested. The very thoroughness of the biography
made it hard, almost unpleasant, reading. I came away confused about
the chronologies and about the ever-changing relationships among the
main characters and among the several nations involved: England,
Scotland, Ireland, Spain, France, The Netherlands, Russia.
Serendipitously, the novel reviewed just above placed its characters
in the context of the times so well that much of the confusion was
cleared up -- no matter whom you think were the good guys. The Phantom Rickshaw, by
Rudyard Kipling. This short story is typical Kipling: colorfully
descriptive, located in India, and reflects England's obsession with
class. The 3x4-inch leather-bound book (part of wife Muriel's
collection of old volumes) also contains two more ghost stories and
"The Ballad of Reading Gaol." I've never enjoyed poetry, but I
sampled enough verses of The Ballad to realize my inability to enjoy
poetry must be genetic. I tested myself further by dipping into a
volume (400 pages!) of Browning and 600 pages of Milton. It's not
the complexity. I don't even enjoy Edgar Guest's inspirational
poems. Medieval Civilization, 400-1500,
by Jacques Le Goff. Joining Gibbons in largely blaming Christians for the
Fall of the Roman Empire, this French writer presents an excellently
detailed overview of the Middle Ages (no longer considered the Dark
Ages, except perhaps from 400 to 900). Actually, Le Goff seems
determined to secularize Europe's history. He alternately diminishes
and exaggerates the role of religion as he breaks his history into
sections with names like "The Framework of Time and Space" and
"Material Culture" and "Mentalities, Sensibilities, and Attitudes."
Tales of a Traveler, by
Washington Irving. Irving is considered "the first American writer
who won the admiration of Europe," in the eyes of admirers, and I
recall being exposed to him sometime in my youth, although I don't
recall any of his works as I do those of, say, Poe. For old time's
sake I picked up Traveler, quickly to find that my distaste for the
self-absorbed writer whose focus is on the writing itself as he
describes a scrap of paper floating down a Paris gutter kept me
from reading more than a page here and a page there before returning
the book to the shelves. (The paper in the gutter is hypothetical. I
don't think I've read that anywhere.) Somewhere in there I read three or
four novels and four Readers Digest condensations (mystery, sci-fi)
containing no message at all.
Stalingrad, by Antony Beevor
For almost 400 pages -- well documented and with scores of
anecdotes demonstrating mankind's humanity and inhumanity -- Beevor several times draws tears. It is impossible
not to root for the Nazis in one chapter, then for the
Commies
in another. To say the book is "balanced" would be
misleading, though, because Beevor makes it clear that
Germany's regular armies were often as guilty as the SS and
Gestapo of perpetrating massacres of Jewish and Russian
civilians. He doesn't buy the postwar efforts to describe
Germany's professional officer corps as kinder and gentler people.
Nevertheless, readers are forced to consider:
Both armies
razed cities and villages and raped women and children.
Both
conducted deliberate massacres.
Both were
occasionally surprisingly gentle.
Both used children and
woman in combat, although the Russians used many more
women than did the Germans.
Even if one is not interested in WWII history,
Stalingrad offers an emotionally tugging portrait of
humanity at its best and worst. It's as though Beevor has
converted Tolstoy's novel, War and Peace, into a documentary.
Hitler: Beyond Evil and Tyranny, by R.H.S. Stolfi To ignore the "historical greatness" of Hitler, to insist that he was too evil to qualify as great is to ignore such facts as the villages destroyed in retaliation by Napoleon and "monstrous carnage" commanded by the other great men, other "world-citizens," in the words of Thomas Carlyle's The French Revolution. Repeatedly countering with contemporary evaluations the chronic belittling of Hitler's accomplishments and performance by those historians whom he repeatedly and derisively labels the "great biographers," Stolfi goes so far as to insist that the German dictator came to see himself as his nation's messiah and savior and prophet. And Stolfi agrees, although he uses the term "dark messiah" in the book's conclusion. Stolfi fits the dictator's attitudes toward Slavs, Jews, communism, lebensraum, Aryans, Anglo-Saxons into the man's world-vision, which the writer characterizes as explaining more than can be understood with mere psychobabble based on his childhood and the like. About Hitler's knowledge or skills in music, painting, and architecture, Stolfi revels in quoting the derogatory judgments of the great biographers, then citing the praise expressed by Hitler's contemporaries in each of those areas. The writer assigns such one-sidedness to the fear of seeming to offer apologia for this terrible person, based on strong antipathy toward Hitler. Stolfi sees a "common revulsion" as having made it impossible for the great biographers to be objective even about Hitler's many undeniable political and military successes. That would be like denying Napoleon's victories, especially in Russia, because they ended in failure. Although Stolfi can be charged with his own brand of psychobabble in advancing his mystical evaluation of Hitler, he does not hesitate to characterize the dictator critically: "lack of a sense of proportion," "feet planted several feet above the ground," "lazy indolence," "wild emotionalism." The author sees this larger-than-life personality as resulting from the combination of Hitler's "genetic predisposition" and his internalized "message of salvation" for the German nation. Stolfi's extensive use of contemporary sources not often found in most Western histories of World Wars I and II, proves startlingly effective. We all know, of course, that Germany started both wars. About WWI, Stolfi forces me to question that and to want to read more. About the punitive effect of the Versailles Treaty and the brutal results of France's and England's obsession with diminishing Germany's borders and acquiring its resources, Stolfi's documentation reminds me that when I read about the "rebellion" against colonial power in Kenya, I had no doubt I would have been a Mau Mau, had I been I a native there. Czechoslovakia and Poland, of course, praised Woodrow Wilson for creating or enlarging their country. For Germany, not only had the Allies diminished its borders but the effect was to forcibly transfer hundreds of thousands of Germans into those countries where they became a, documented, persecuted minority. Germans wanted their borders and their countrymen back. From their perspective, their country was now surrounded by armed enemies, to which France added the USSR in the east. Hitler's push for living space to the East went a bit overboard, but . . . ah, apologia. Stolfi's rambling writing, simultaneously boring and dramatic, remains outstandingly informative. The author's snide comments about the "great biographers" reminded me that over the decades I have been repeatedly uneasy when good writers -- like Fest, Heiden, Flood, Bullock, Payne, Toland -- use petty and nugatory adjectives and adverbs which are unsupported by context. This is true whether they deal with Hitler, other Nazi notables, or the Third Reich as a nation. Anyone with an interest in mid-20th century history will appreciate this book.
No Higher Honor, by Condoleezza
Rice That chapter provides more
information, and understanding, about our government's behavior on September
11 than can be gathered from having read dozens of articles
and books: how the President reacted; how and where and
why he
and the Vice President were moved around the country; about the need to make
such decisions as whether to shoot down civilian planes
which failed to respond; about the combination of
sadness and relief when the fate off that third hijacked
plane was learned; about the need to guard against
possible ground attacks. The single word "informative" defines
Rice's book. Condi is not a great writer, but her
academic and pedestrian style serves well to describe
people places, events, suspicions, debates, differing mindsets of
government departments, relationships with allies and
enemies, anger, fear, elation courage, cowardice.
While the major events of Rice's and the nation's lives
are presented chronologically, many of her explanations
seamlessly move into the past and forward to the future when
non-contemporary matters pertain to what is being
related. There are occasional boring pages among the
almost 800, including some as eye-glazing as the Bible's begats. A dozen of her chapter titles provide
a sample of the topics Rice addresses: The Middle East,
Vladimir Putin, Saddam Again, Confronting the
International Community with a Choice, Four More Years,
Iraq and the Home Front, He Lives in His Own Head, One
Last Chance for North Korea. Throughout Honor, Rice doesn't
shirk from addressing disagreements and negotiations
within the government: Powell, Cheney, Rumsfield, Rice
herself, Bush. About each issue, we read what was known
or not; about missed signals; about many more mixed,
rather the missed, signals -- and why they were missed
or mixed. Both Cheney and Rumsfield have publicly
bristled about some of her interpretations, which is not
only to be expected but humanly unavoidable. Rice mixes talk of fashion-designer
dresses with talk of war, the trivial with the very
serious. Doing so humanizes the participants in world
affairs. Although it is not her intent, readers come to
understand it is mistaken to be in awe of most
decision-makers, whose individual mix of competence and
temperament follow them from Podunk to the District of
Columbia and from D.C. to Pakistan. Just regular folks
whose several performances follow the normal bell
curve from incompetent through so-so to brilliant. Speaking of changing arenas, Rice
quietly expresses pride in the saga of a black female
from the South moving through college official and concert pianist
to become a power
player on the world stage, but she does it without
boasting. She is a major character in this book, but she
speaks of herself in the third person -- you know,
"National Security Advisor" or "Secretary of State" --
often enough to avoid any hint of self-aggrandizement.
"A black female secretary of state simply
didn't fit with the stereotypes that most
people [Muslims] held about the United
States. Tony Blair may have summed it up
best when he said that he'd bee struck at
the first Camp David meeting of the
President flanked by Colin Powell on one
side and me on the other. Could this
happen in Britain? he asked himself.
Not yet, he said he answered silently.
Not yet." It makes no difference whether you are
a Democrat or a Republican or whether you favored
invading Iraq or whether you are pro- or anti-Israel,
you will come away with increased understanding of the
not really rarified atmosphere in Washington, D.C.
Following Condi through her long days and many
trips and speeches --and real 3 a.m. phone calls
-- helps one understand and appreciate Hillary's current
performance as Secretary of State. |
Lincoln, The Biography of a Writer. Ain't Nobody's Business If I Do |