Showing posts with label classics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label classics. Show all posts

The Proper Study of Mankind: An Anthology of Essays Review

The Proper Study of Mankind: An Anthology of Essays
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The Proper Study of Mankind: An Anthology of Essays Review"The Proper Study of Mankind" is an awe-inspiring anthology of seventeen essays in the Humanities by the erudite and engaging Isaiah Berlin. The title may seem a bit stilted for Berlin, who is no starched collar, and whose writing is crisp, crackling, and refreshingly free of pomp and pedantry. But then...so long as one stops and thinks (something going out of fashion these days, but still very much in the spirit of Berlin)...that title does make sense. Of course! "The proper study of Mankind is Man." Not ideals. Not ideologies. But human beings as they really are--and what they actually do.
Berlin does not believe in final solutions to human questions. There is no definitive answer once and for all. Nor is there one way, the way, the only way to be, live, act, think, learn, work, write, express oneself, etc. Man is not singular. Man is plural. That is what makes humanity so facinating to "study." The mystery, the drama, the unpredictability of these intractable creatures baffle social scientists, human engineers, controlling personalities who--try as they may!--cannot quite track down, trap, take prisoner the wildly elusive chimera of "human nature."
Ah, but Shakespeare delights in this dazzling dance. And so does Berlin. He writes with riveting wonder at the butterfly flights of human beings, human minds, human wills, human histories. He traces errant clues left behind, on scattered pages, to defy the wind of time. Berlin is sensitive to these fragile fragments of thought, these traces, these rumblings of the human spirit. He is a great historian of ideas--one who listens with a keen sense of hearing for echoes and reverberations in the din of cacophony. He is a perceptive discerner of patterns in space, careers through time, and points of origin. He is original. He does not regurgitate his enormous reading. Rather, he chews, tastes, savors, spits out fat, sucks up marrow, and digests. Thus fortified by this huge feast of reading, Berlin writes something utterly new, all his own, from all that he has read.
The most stirring, most exciting, pages in this anthology are those of the finale (section V) of Berlin's essay on "The Apotheosis of the Romantic Will." When Berlin writes like this, you don't just see light, you feel fire! But then, turning to Berlin's penetrating essay on "The Origins of Machiavelli," the reader is captivated by an utterly different set of sensations: depth, moisture, deep caves, dank smells, dirt, digging in darkness, fearful, clutching one's dagger, probing, deeper--a Dante-esque spiralling down to the bowels of the earth--followed by a swift sudden plunge into the heart of this seminal genius, this Machiavelli, this spectre of the night whose short, simple, virus-like books continue to plague the west, century after century. This too is great reading!
Indeed, all of the essays in this anthology are good. It's just that some are better than others--depending on what you are looking for. The first six essays are predominantly conceptual. They distill the ideas. Thus, they have punch and potency. But they are somewhat dry and lacking in flavor. Reading them, the connoisseur sips pure alcohol. All the while, however, he or she longs for the exquisite taste of an excellent wine: full-bodied, fruity, robust, bursting with bouquet, and delightfully complex. That is to say: the vintage Berlin.
Abruptly after the first six essays, however, the corks pop, the writing flows, and taste buds bathe in champagne. Berlin is at his best--humane, historical, humorous--in the nine essays that follow: four on "The History of Ideas"; three on "Russian Writers"; and two on "Romanticism and Nationalism." The remaining essays, the last two, on "Twentieth-Century Figures" (Churchill and Roosevelt) round out the feast with a delicious dessert. After devouring this book, however, I keep coming back for seconds, thirds, fourths from my favorite essays--those on Romanticism, Nationalism, the Counter-Enlightenment, and, of course, Machiavelli.
Still, each essay in this anthology is ingenious in its own way: the approach, the point of view, the style of writing...everything curved, shaped, fitted--just so--to suit the subject. But there is no forced compartmentalization. Ideas from one essay spill over into another--and can be found swimming, quite freely, in a third. Those who demand strict obedience, straight lines, right angles, cleanliness, order, stability, sterility, etc., will be appalled. But those who despise totalitarianism will be overjoyed.The Proper Study of Mankind: An Anthology of Essays Overview

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Tales from the Thousand and One Nights (Penguin Classics) Review

Tales from the Thousand and One Nights (Penguin Classics)
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Tales from the Thousand and One Nights (Penguin Classics) ReviewThis book is a selection of the choicest tales from the Thousand and One Nights. The translator, N.J. Dawood, also translated the Koran for the Penguin Classics series. Dawood explains in the introduction that the first of these tales appeared in a written form around 850 C.E., in a book called, "A Thousand Legends." More tales, of lesser quality, were added over the years until an anonymous editor in Cairo finally codified them in the 18th century. A French version of some of the stories appeared in the 17th century, and was followed by several English versions in the 19th century; the best known adaptation came from Sir Richard Burton, in 10 volumes. The stories are a mix of Arabic, Persian, and Indian tales and appear to have been written in response to classical Arabic literature. The Arabs do not consider them part of the classic canon, and after reading these stories, I can see why. They are aggressive and highly sexualized, and are loaded with sorcery, fantasy, and criticism of authority figures.
Whatever their origins and means of transmission, these are excellent and entertaining stories. I cannot think of one tale in this selection that I did not like. Included in the book is the instantly recognizable Aladdin story, as well as the Sinbad voyages. Other tales are just as interesting: "The Tale of the Hunchback," "The Tale of Judar and his Brothers," "The Porter and the Three Girls of Baghdad," and many others. Many of these stories are cycles; they have stories within stories, as characters in one story tell their own stories. At the end of the cycle, the story is cleverly wrapped up, usually with a happy ending. I do not think I need to go into detail about Aladdin or Sinbad, except to say that I was surprised to see Aladdin described as Chinese. Providing details to these stories would be useless anyway because they are so detailed as to be impervious to summary.
There is no doubt that many of these stories started as oral stories, and retained that shape into the written versions. The best example is the Sinbad cycle. All of the stories in this cycle are framed in the same way. This repetition made it easier to memorize the stories, or at least the basic outline. A good storyteller could take the frame and fill in the blanks with whatever his heart desired. You often see this kind of writing in the Bible.
Social roles and class play a large part in these stories. Women are presented as wily and dangerous, but not always. Several stories show men trying to pull fast ones on the ladies, with the results much to the detriment of the men. Many stories show how the high and mighty come crashing down, or how the lowly are elevated to great status. These movements are attributed to the grace or condemnation of Allah, and the characters all act out their movements with Allah close by.
You will not go wrong with this book. These are immensely entertaining stories for both children and adults, although you might want to find a toned down version for the kiddies. Why? I am thinking about the tale where a man and some women play "name that body part." My only criticism of this version is that the tale of "Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves" is absent. I have no idea why it is missing, but the book loses one star for this grave omission.Tales from the Thousand and One Nights (Penguin Classics) Overview

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Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day (Persephone Classics) Review

Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day (Persephone Classics)
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Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day (Persephone Classics) ReviewWinfired Watson's little 1938 fantasy has become the bestelling reissue for the terrific Persephone Books imprint in the UK, and its not hard to see why. Basically a Cinderella story set during the 30s, Watson's novel concerns a dowdy governess sent by mistake by her agency to the home of a glamorous and dithering nightclub singer, who comes to rely upon Miss Pettigrew to straighten out her love life. Miss Pettigrew not only rises to the challenge (much to her own surprise), but undergoes a makeover and finds some romance for her own life as well. While undeniably slim (and purposefully so), the novel is just about irresistible: it plays upon the same fantasy as Jane Austen's MANSFIELD PARK, the fantasy of being not only loved but also needed. Curiously, the trappings of glamour in this novel come not from the world of the wealthy and titled (as per usual in British fiction from this era, as in the novels of Waugh and Nancy Mitford) but from a world envisioned in American film: the world of night clubs, self-made men, and cocaine-dabbling gigolos.Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day (Persephone Classics) Overview

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A Mencken Chrestomathy: His Own Selection of His Choicest Writing Review

A Mencken Chrestomathy: His Own Selection of His Choicest Writing
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A Mencken Chrestomathy: His Own Selection of His Choicest Writing ReviewI really like this book. Mencken's prose and unflinching attitude is like no other author I have read. I don't know if they used the middle finger in the early 1900s but if so, then HLM was its personification. If you were to tally his word usage in the book I believe "idiot", "imbecile", "buffoon", "moron" and "mountebank" would be near the top.
This book contains one of my favorite essay and the single biggest reason to own this book, his piece on the critical process. It's only a 10 page essay but it's probably the most eloquent. For whatever reason he put it around page 450, but I would recommend reading it first. It puts a reader in the right frame of mind for reading Mencken's essays. He explains a worthwhile critic is not so much concerned with truth or detail. Instead a truly great critic takes the target of the criticism and uses it to develop his own original ideas. It separates those who would just be archivists with those who would be artists. Clearly, Mencken was not concerned with the former, he was concerned with art and he was an artist.A Mencken Chrestomathy: His Own Selection of His Choicest Writing Overview

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Up in the Old Hotel Review

Up in the Old Hotel
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Up in the Old Hotel ReviewJoseph Mitchell may be the best writer ever to have worked on the 'New Yorker' staff (the other contenders would include Edmund Wilson and A. J. Liebling). Every story in this long book is worth reading, and re-reading; the later pieces, from 'The Bottom of the Harbour' and especially 'Joe Gould's Secret' are tours-de-force of reporting. Mitchell invests his characters with so much life that they take on almost mythical proportions, without ever sacrificing their humanity. Although Mitchell often chose to write about people on the margins of society -- a homeless beggar like Joe Gould, a bearded lady, the hard-drinking Hugh Flood -- he never did so in a patronising manner. He admires these people not because of their struggles or hard lives, but despite them: he sees them, and makes us see them, as fellow human beings, not social welfare cases. Mitchell freely admits that listening to Joe Gould was a strain, and that Gould could be, like people who own houses and property and know where their next meal is coming from, selfish and mean-spirited; far from making Gould unattractive, this serves to make him come alive - homeless people don't become plaster saints, and it's silly to pretend otherwise. A key component in these stories is Mitchell's own persona, which is much like his prose style: quiet, unassertive, but immensely attractive. It is a great pity that, for whatever reason, Mitchell fell silent for the last thirty years of his life; but any sadness can be assuaged by dipping back into 'Up in the Old Hotel', where Mitchell's brilliant handling of detail and character -- and his shapely way with the structure of a profile, always dovetailing to a perfect close -- can be sampled time and again.Up in the Old Hotel Overview

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Everything Flows (New York Review Books Classics) Review

Everything Flows (New York Review Books Classics)
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Everything Flows (New York Review Books Classics) ReviewI shared all this with my own people
There, where misfortune had abandoned us."
Anna Akhmatova's Requiem
If Life and Fate (New York Review Books Classics) may rightfully be seen as Vasily Grossman's masterpiece, his Everything Flows may rightfully be seen as his testament, a requiem if you will not only for his own life but for the lives of those who lived in his time and place.
"Everything Flows" tells a simple, yet emotionally deep and politically nuanced tale. The story begins with the 1957 return to Moscow of Ivan Grigoryevich after 30 years of forced labor in the Gulag. 1957 marked the year, following Khrushchev's denunciation of the excesses of Stalin, in which the tide of prisoners returning from the Gulag reached its peak. He arrives at the Moscow flat of his cousin Nikolay. Nikolay, a scientist with less than stellar skills, has reached some measure of success at the laboratory through dint of being a survivor. The meeting in the flat is entirely unsatisfactory for both parties. Grossman paints a vivid picture of Nikolay, more than a bit jealous that Ivan's light had always shone brighter than his own prior to Ivan's arrest. Nikolay suffers from the guilt of one who was not arrested and who is painfully aware of the choices he made to keep from being arrested. It seems clear that Ivan represents a mirror into which Nikolay can see only his own hollow reflection.
Ivan leaves Moscow for his old city of Leningrad, the place where he was first arrested in 1927. By chance, he runs into the person, Pinegin, whose denunciation placed him in jail in the first place. Once again, Ivan is a mirror and Pinegin is horrified at what he is faced with, what he has buried for thirty years. Ironically, and to great effect, we see Pinegin's horror recede once he settles down to a sumptuous lunch at a restaurant reserved for foreigners and party officials. Ivan does not know about the denunciation and Grossman here embarks on a discourse on the different types and forms of denunciation available to the Soviet citizen. It is a remarkable discourse that shows how many different ways there are to participate in a purge and how many ways there are to legitimize ones participation and/or acquiescence.
From Leningrad Ivan travels to a southern industrial city where he finds work and eventually finds a deep and satisfying love in the person of his landlady Anna. The centerpiece of that relationship is the brutal honesty involved; Anna spends a night detailing her role in the pointless, needless famine that swept the Ukraine in 1932-1933. It is an account made even more chilling by the straightforward, confessional nature of its telling. But it is also redemptive and shines a light on what might be called Grossman's vision that love and freedom are two goals, not mutually exclusive, that an honest accounting of our lives forms the essence of our shared humanity.
The above summary does not do justice to the power of Grossman's prose or to the literary and political importance of the work. Since the death of Stalin, the Soviet line had remained relatively firm - Stalin's excesses were the product of a disturbed mind that represented a horrible deviation from the theory and principles of Leninism. The USSR's best path was the one that returned it to the path created by Lenin. Khrushchev first enunciated this line. Even Gorbachev's perestroika was based on the theory that a return to first-principles, i.e. Leninism, would save the USSR from destruction.
Grossman, prophetically, did not buy into this line and Everything Flows'last chapters are notable for a remarkable attack not only on Stalin but on Lenin and Lenin's anti-democratic tendencies that had more in common with Ivan the Terrible than the principles of revolutionary democracy. "All the triumphs of Party and State were bound up with the name of Lenin. But all the cruelty inflicted on the nation also lay - tragically - on Lenin's shoulders." Grossman may have been the first to make this leap and he paid the price for making that leap. (This involves the suppression of his Life & Fate and Everything Flows.) Grossman's explicit claim that Stalin was not a deviationist from Leninism but its natural-born progeny was profoundly subversive and there is no doubt in my mind that it was this difference that explains why, under Khruschev's 'thaw', that One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich was publishe while Life and Fate and Everything Flows was banned.
Despite the horrors set out, quietly and without excess rhetoric, Grossman returns to a somewhat optimistic vision of mans search for freedom: "No matter how mighty the empire, all this is only mist and fog and, as such, will be blown away. Only one true force remains; only one true force continues to evolve and live; and this force is liberty. To a man, to live means to be free."
Robert Chandler's translation of Everything Flows is exquisite. He brings the same clarity and emotional investment in Grossman's work that he brought to his prize-winning translations of Platonov and Hamid Ismailov's The Railway. In short, Everything Flows is a treasure and I cannot recommend this book highly enough. L. Fleisig
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Nox Review

Nox
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Nox Review"No matter how I try to evoke the starry lad he was, it remains a plain, odd history."
More an experience than a read, "Nox" by Anne Carson splices abstraction--definitions, quotations, lessons in ancient Greek history--with the concrete specificity of family photographs, handwritten letters, and personal recollections that attempt to contain a fragile and fragmented relationship. Carson's brother, who led a transitory and difficult life, has died in Copenhagen. And now Carson, in the manner of Catallus (poem 101), must go to see her brother's widow, the city where he lived, and the church he was brought to when he died. In words and images, and in words as images, Carson creates a landscape that mirrors memory--a continuous accordion-folded page that backdrops black and white snapshots, yellowing letters, cancelled stamps, and cut-out text. Most striking are the photos that include shadows, and texts that Carson repeats, strikes out, or blurs. Also haunting is the way this collage seems so very real on the reproduced page: edges of paper-on-paper look sharp and true, or wrinkled from too much glue; staples seem raised, shiny and cold; even the reverse-embossing of handwriting forces this reader to touch and expect to feel the raised imprint of a ball-point pen, as if, in feeling, the question is asked: is this real?
Carson explains, "History and elegy are akin." In questioning, "are these staples real?" or "who was this brother?" we share in the act of asking, of composing the story and creating history. In her distilled and disjointed--yet accessible--way, Carson compels questions, collects facts--or shards of them--and assembles a beautiful, tactile, white-space filled elegy that honors a brother who, later in life, she barely knew. "You have survived it, " Carson writes, "and so you must carry it, or fashion it into a thing that carries itself." Carson has fashioned a thing that carries itself, a work of poetry and prose that stands on its own as book and non-book, object and message: an account of one's life as an extraordinary ordinary thing.
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Something Happened Review

Something Happened
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Something Happened ReviewThe title of this book by Joseph Heller is "Something Happened." Another title could have been "Life: The Book." This is one of the very, very few books I know that accurately and realistically portrays real life - life as it actually is - warts and all. The book I read immediately before this one was James Joyce's much-touted masterwork, Ulysses. Now, that book can, and has been, described the same way by many, and it is, in many ways, the very last word on realism. That said, it has much in common with this book, and Something Happened is, in many ways, the better book. Classicists and romanticists may well prefer Joyce's novel and consider it downright blasphemy to have it compared with this modern masterwork, but the fact is, this is a very good and much underrated book, and will probably be preferred by post-modernists and existentialists over Ulysses. The book is very long - nearly 600 pages - and does have a tendency to ramble at times - often seemingly without a point. It's written in the style of a first-person narrative, and this is one of the few books where you truly get into the head of the main character. That is the main difference between this book and Ulysses: unlike the latter work, which follows the adventures of three separate characters as they follow parallel courses and sometimes intertwine, Something Happened consists entirely of one character's thoughts and actions. And, since it deals only with other people insofar as they relate to him, it can get a bit solipsistic at times - however, that said, Heller's intention with this book (I think) was to accurately and realistically describe the thoughts in the head of a fairly normal, everyday American male. He does a rather remarkable job of this. The only real criticism of the book I can make is that it does tend to repeat itself quite a lot at times: certain situations are mentioned again and again with little or no variation, often seemingly for no reason - but, as anyone knows, this is, indeed, how most people's minds do work. The main character, Bob Slocum, is not a perfect person - but he is a REAL person. This is not another cardboard cutout character that we see all too many of: this is a real living, breathing flesh and blood character, warts and all - HUMAN, just like us. Many of the situations he finds himself in - both in the workplace and domestically - as well as the thoughts and emotions he finds himself experiencing, will no doubt hit home with a great many readers. Although Heller more than likely constructed Slocum to portray a certain generation of people - the anguished, confused veterans of the war - he is applicable to the Average Joe: he's the true Everyman. Heller seeks, in this book, to answer the real question: What, just what, DID happen, to that great, blinding glow of post-war euphoria? Or, as Roger Waters put it, "Whatever happened to the post-war dream?" Where's the American Dream? Where's all the sun and rainbows? WHAT HAPPENED? Something did.
I highly reccommend this book. It is a masterpiece, and criminally underrated. It's a shame that Heller's reputation rests almost solely upon Catch-22, when he has so many other notable and distinct works, such as this one. As another reviewer pointed out, I believe this book was overlooked by Modern Library when they made their list of the Top 100 Books of the 20th Century: it truly belongs on it. Don't make the mistake of overlooking it.Something Happened Overview

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