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An anime-like adventure with hyperkinetic action.
Not bad, entertainingThings I didn't like about the book (don't worry, nothing really revealing here): the Flying Island, Crossbow and the Chairman's transformation, a climax you wouldn't exactly call exciting. Also, the Crossbow Body was a pretty shaky and only vaguely accounted-for concept.
The Artifical Kid really did change my life...I found this book in the library, of all places, back when I was in junior high school in 1982. Crouched between all that hoary Silverberg and Simak that I didn't want to read, it said "Psssst!". I haven't been the same since. The Kid jumped out and smacked me across the forehead with his lush, tweaked-out postpunk setting and sweeping, interconnected plot. A little bit of old-world pangalacticism, a little futuristic DIY chopsocky, a bunch of toungues in cheeks, and loads of high-tech wetware polymers and lurching biomasses, from before wetware polymers and lurching biomasses were cool. And all the while, Sterling's trademark core of optimism shines through.
It's taken the world about ten years to catch up to this baby, and it's about damn time. If you don't know Bruce Sterling, this is a fine place to start. Now, where's my Smuff?
John Zero (jzero@onramp.net), Dallas, Texas
James Tackles Political Terror...sort ofI do admire James' writing. He has a genious for conversation and the drawing out his characters' complex natures through repartee. This serves him well in slowly unveiling the complex interplay of personalities and emotions that usually leads to tragedy - at least so far as I've ascertained from reading two of his longer works. Reading James is like tracing a broad circle that moves ever inward towards a single point in the center. You arrive eventually at the climax, where action replaces words at last, but only after a long drawn out, fascinating in its way, story sustained only by the badinage of the characters and the occasional changes of scene from country manor to London to Paris, etc.
I was a little surprised by the editorial review of this book, that claims "the London underworld of terrorist conspiracies...comes alive under his pen with a violence that seems, 100 years later, only too familiar." I wonder if the reviewer read the book? There are no real conspiracies here, much less any violence. You read, or at least I did, waiting for one, praying for one, but the only thing approaching one comes at the end, and then only as a plan that leads to the final tragic act. I don't want to be too hard on the Princess Casamassima. It was in its way a brilliant work, in its Jamesian way I suppose. If you relish good conversation (and in this James rivals Oscar Wilde; I think James should have concentrated on plays) and undeniable genius in molding characters and slowly and laboriously, but lovingly, weaving out their fate, then James, and the Princess, is for you. If you're coming looking for some explosions and political intrigue it's not to be found here. James doesn't even really treat the social, economic, or political issues behind this growing rift in the social fabric with any seriousness, but treats of it only through the shifting, vague, often cynical opinions of his characters. But then Henry James is not primarily concerned with "the social problem", and treats of political philosophy and such only in a cursory manner, as dressing to brilliant conversation. And what's life about but good conversation? James, as I said, I take primarily as a novelist of manners, which means of people, individual persons, not "the people". This is not a shortcoming. I think James must have thought social issues rather vulgar. You can only treat with refinement the fine lines of the individual character. You can't make art in the factory or the streets (so I imagine him thinking). The tragedy here then is the tragedy of an individual, Hyacinth Robinson, drawn into something, and ultimately destroyed by his choices, due to the ideosyncracies of his own character and his own past. It's not about the revolutionary or anarchist movement per se, but about the struggles going on within a single human soul. Hyacinth had committed himself to a noble, idealistic, if single-minded, death before he had yet had time to consider the many facets life might take. In the end it is not socialism vs. capitalism, but East End on a winter's day vs. St. Mark's square at dusk, as Hyacinth's youthful, spontaneous, unrefined, and ill-considered radicalism gradually reaches its showdown with his more matured, compromising and balanced outlook. But he has arrived at these new insights too late, or has he?
Overview of "The Princess CasaMassima"Hyacinth's father was an English aristocrat, while his mother was from a lower-class French family. The dual nature of Hyacinth's origin functions to for-shadow his dilemma in later life. Hyacinth is adopted my "Pinnie," who is a seamstress and a hard-working lower-class women. It is apparent that Pinnie goes to great lengths and makes sacrifices in her own life for Hyacinth. In fact, "Millicent's allusion to her shrunken industry," and her financial decline are due to Miss Pynsent's "remorse at taking Hyacinth to see his mother dying in prison." This exemplifies the level of care Miss Pynsent gave to Hyacinth. Further, having a meager income and lifestyle did not hinder her decision to take Hyacinth in and raise him to the best of her ability. As Hyacinth grew, so did his contempt for his mother. When going to visit her in jail he said, "I don't want to know her." (51) And at the same time recognizes that, "she must be very low," (51) and desperate. He also yearned to have been able to stake claim to his aristocratic title. The tragedy of his mother and father being revealed to Hyacinth at an early age, planted these conflicting thoughts in his mind when he was young, and may have set the stage for his desire to be part of the upper class and his disgust for the lower class as the novel unfolds.
Hyacinth had a major psychological conflict battling away in his psyche. On one side, he had contempt and shame for his mother, who was from the lower class, while having pride, and sadness for his father, who was an aristocrat. The conflicting nature of this dilemma came into play with Miss. Pynsent, whom Hyacinth loved dearly and respected, but who was also a member of the working, lower class. Therefore, Hyacinth was at odds with which side he should associate with and as the novel unfolds this conflict is played out. In the beginning of the novel, Hyacinth, suppressing his contempt and shame for his mother and focusing on the love for Pinnie, begins to sympathize with the working man and the anarchists' cause and makes the promise of murder, that he regrets for the rest of his life. As the novel progresses, his eyes are opened up to the upper class and their way of life, and his respect and awe for his dead father takes over his psyche. In the closing of the novel, he decides to take his own life, which symbolizes victory and resolution of the ongoing battle in his psyche. Had he killed a nobleman, he would have been no different from his mother, who also killed a nobleman. In fact Hyacinth says that he doesn't want to, "place her [Florentines] forgotten pollution again in the eyes of the world." (529) Therefore, by killing himself and choosing not to assassinate a nobleman, he finally resolves his psychological conflict and puts the battle and himself to rest.
Hyacinth chose to be a bookbinder by trade and therefore was a member of the working class. As such, he was surrounded by individuals who were also working, or from the lower classes. Visiting his friends, the Poupins one day, he meets Paul Muniment, a revolutionary who speaks to Hyacinth about the cause of the workingman and the lower class. Hyacinth has many political arguments and discussions and on one such occasion meets Captain Sholto, who later functions to introduce Hyacinth to Princess Casamassima and the upper class. This introduction occurs when Hyacinth takes his girlfriend, Millicent Henning to the theater, where Captain Sholto remembering Hyacinth from the café introduces him to the Princess. This is a major turning point in Hyacinth's life. The princess is beautiful, radiant, and introduces Hyacinth to "her people." The princess is American born and married into her title. Her husband was an Italian Prince. Hyacinth's eyes were opened to this new class, which he had only heard negative things about. This is ironic because it seemed that the criticisms of the rich were by the poor or lower classes. They were initiated by individuals whose reasoning for hate may have been deeply rooted in envy. For Hyacinth it was just a matter of being involved with a group and his suppression of the hatred for his mother, and love for Pinnie, both members of the lower class. However, when he began to be accepted by the upper class, he began to realize the beauty and privilege associated with the class. His appreciation for the finer things began to grow, and his psychological respect for his aristocratic father may have taken over his psyche. It seems that Hyacinth could have gone either way. However, had he stuck to the lower class, his mental conflicts would have never played out and he would have been forced to live with an ongoing psychological battle for the rest of his life. But the Princess gave him an opportunity to explore different elements of the London social scene and his psyche. Until Princess Casamassima, Hyacinth did not have the opportunity to join the upper class and associate himself with them. He was confined to the lower class, his mother's class. In reality, Hyacinth's contempt for his mother extended over to her socioeconomic class. His grasping of the lower-class group was simply because he had no choice, or because he was not consciously aware of the decisions he was making. However, the Princess allowed him to have another option. The only problem was that even though Hyacinth had now been exposed to this upper class, he did not really have the means economically to remain among them. This conflict was further increased by Hyacinth's promise to the anarchists. He had promised the revolutionaries that he would kill a nobleman. However, after his eyes had been opened to the upper class, this murder would have gone against everything he loved and yearned to be. He had not realized it until now, but his deep-rooted contempt for his mother, and his desire to dis-associate himself from her would make it impossible for him to kill anyone. Also, when returning from his European trip, he felt isolated. He felt that his girlfriend was cheating on him with Captain Sholto and he felt betrayed by the Princess. At this point in his life, he could neither turn to the lower-class anarchists, or the upper class Princess. Both had rejected him. So the novel, in essence ends where it began. With Hyacinth in the middle. Belonging neither to the upper class nor the lower class, just the way he was born. In light of being in limbo, Hyacinth was able to resolve his ongoing psychological conflicts between rejecting his birth mother, respecting and loving his adopted mother, and honoring his birth father.
Hyacinth Robinson was a man with many conflicts. In the beginning of the novel, he was colored with many unresolved conflicts, and as the novel progressed, these psychological conflicts seemed to manifest themselves in reality. His conflict between class distinctions manifested in him making the mistake of promising to the anarchists that he would murder a nobleman of choice. Furthermore, as the novel progressed, his need to associate with his father's class, the upper class, created another conflict in that he now couldn't go through with the murder. These physical conflicts were only manifestations of the mental and psychological battles that were going on in Hyacinth's psyche. So, physically, he rejected the anarchists, which in his psyche represented his mother, and instead brought physical and mental resolution to his predicament by taking his own life. Therefore, Hyacinth conquered not only the physical streets of London and overcame his physical place in society, but also overcame the psychological problems that he was born with, but did not die with.
intriguing cast of charactersThe title character is a very complex heroine. You don't know whether to cheer for her or hiss at her. A woman with her intentions in the right place, yet as well, someone who thinks nothing of discarding close confidantes. She's an interesting mix of dichotomies. Hyacinth is both aptly wary of her and beguiled by her in the same breath.
Not quite as powerful as his latest works, still, for fans of great literature and ideas, this is a fine way to spend a few idle weeks.
Buchan's "shocker" entertainsThe Thirty Nine steps is said to be one of the most important novels in the thriller genre. Featuring Richard Hannay a former South African miner, who is caught in a spy story, the effects of which may lead to war in western Europe.
The story is fast moving. Hannay is placed in predicament after predicament (like the Perils of Pauline) following the discovery of a body in his London flat. He escapes to Galloway, then Dumfriesshire (rural south west Scotland). Pursued by both police and foreign agents Hannay's life is at risk - and we witness his use of a number of disguises, and his experience as a mining engineer, in escaping each predicament.
At times the novel feels like a loosely related series of escapades, but the final chapters (as in Childers' The riddle of the sands) pull the disparate strands together satisfyingly. Fast paced with an appealing central character, the novel is recommended as a quick and easy entertainment. However, there are some flaws readers ought to be aware of.
In the Scottish sections of the novel Buchan writes the dialogue of the locals in dialect, contrasting this with the the "received pronunication" of the other characters. As a technique it appears to belittle the validity of the dialect spoken, and appears to patronise the locals. Although, Buchan's sleight here is countered by his portrayal of the locals. They share a certain cunning and deviousness. Additionally, the use of dialect (and a particular type of lowland Scots dialect) renders parts of the text difficult to follow.
Most concerning about the book is the inherent anti-semitism. Analgoies and metaphors rely on negative imagery of jews; and one of the characters (scudder) is overtly anti-semitic in his comments. While this was a prevalent attitude in a certain strata of British writing pre- World War Two, it jars today - and rendered parts of the novel, for this reader, offensive.
Buchan is certainly readable, but his work has dated. His influence is apparent in the work of Greene, and inherent in his work are the influences of American thriller writers of the early twentieth century, and Conan Doyle's Holmes, Challenger, and Brigadier Gerard stories.
If you enjoyed this novel you might want to try Graham Greene's Gun for sale; The Confidential Agent; Stamboul Train; and The Ministry of fear.
The Adventures of a Super-SherlockThe main appeal is a Wordsworthian ramble through a rural scene populated by deep and knowing pastoral types, such as the roadman and the fly fisherman, though no Lucy, nor any available women at all to signify the potential future of a British race. All the characters are either aristocrats or peasants, befitting the narrator's acknowledged anti-middle class sentiments. Curiously, the hero himself is middle class, a mining engineer, though retired at 37 years old, idle but restless, and by nature the best picture of an English sport. He is Sherlock enhanced with amazing physical prowess.
Readers will notice disrespect towards police. Our hero throws a good punch right in a cop's face, and police are everywhere ineffectual. In today's prosecutorial climate, our hero would be in for a 10-year felony.
Anti-semitism: It's there, it reflects the times, of course. However, I must say it's far worse than charmless. It's insistent, each time sudden, and gratuitous, violent, and associated with images of extermination. Towards the end of the book, our hero expresses mild condescension towards anti-semitism, not a satisfactory rebuke.
This book offers a minimum of political background to WWI. Don't pick it up for a slice of life. It' for people who just can't get enough of Sherlock.
Great book that became an even greater film!
A shame Gibson does not fully deliver... By Zvi Avigdor, MDWe must however ask what was the author's true intention when using the word "Shameful" in the book's title? If the reader is attracted by such word in order to find shocking or censurable stories, he/she will be disappointed, as there are not many of those; the shameful life meant by Gibson was the one Dali had, full of painful emotions caused by consciousness of guilt. Shameful, as in pitiful could also be an appropriate meaning of the heading. Of the shameful statements and behaviors by the master, some, unfortunately, are not well scrutinized. How interesting would have been if Gibson, for example, had better researched if Salvador's sporadic fascist views where actually a product of the subconscious he could not control, as he claimed, or very much his real feelings. Those paradox moments of early fascination with Hitler and later on with racism, that prompted Breton and the Surrealists to cut with the painter are difficult to understand, even in such a confused and manipulative individual. Gibson only simplifies such complex enigmas by saying that Dali was a renegade, who continuously changed sides in order to attract attention, or guarantee his personal survival. We find however, that this is not always the case: The Maestro, in an entry in his diary in 1952, lauds Freud and Einstein and the entire "genius of the Jewish people"; if true that he behaved according to convenience, why Salvador was so strongly anti-Semitic later in the 1960s remains a puzzle, since it only pushed the Jewish art dealers away.
Pertaining the book's content, other criticism is in order: The author attempts to cover every single aspect of Dali's life by providing amazing details which could at times even seem to be irrelevant, but then he inexplicably forgets to reveal many well known facts. A case in point, there is no reference of Dali's feelings towards the creation of the State of Israel, which he viewed as a historical development with surrealistic overtones (was he being opportunistic once again?); as to why this is significant, is because he created images in 1968 and 1972, respectively for the 20th and 25th anniversaries of the State of Israel, -works that are not even mentioned in the book. The author also neglects to mention other (albeit not so well known) data: that in 1944 the Maestro was commissioned to do 7 paintings to illustrate " The Seven Lively Arts" for the lobby of the Ziegfield Theater, that in 1965 the painter donated a work to the Rikers Island Prison in New York. Many other examples can be cited. In addition, most of the works mentioned in the book are not shown, some of them pivotal to the narrative. The novice art reader would have benefited from such graphics even if in black and white, achieving a better understanding of the items created by the painter, or by others that influenced him.
Some of the Surreal Objects mentioned should have also been portrayed; the only one represented in the book, is not Dali's. It is utmost frustrating to read the reference or even the description of paintings, objects or sculptures without having the opportunity to look at them, and this occurs repeatedly in the script. Granted, the effort in obtaining and publishing such materials would have been a great one, but it seems that Gibson's style had the purpose of thoroughness which is not achieved by the omission of these elements. Furthermore, some works mentioned in the text are depicted, but only elsewhere in the book without any indication by the author of their presence; then a picture of 1974 is placed in the narrative of Dali's life in the late eighties; it seems that the editing could have been improved. Lastly, Gibson brings up complex references regarding art styles (Dadaism, Pre-Raphaelitism), political parties, philosophical movements and art expert opinions without any clarification of what they mean. Why the author chooses to describe some personalities and not others is also perplexing; again, it is evident that the novice reader is not taken into account in this otherwise magnificent and enjoyable book. Gibson's conclusion is that Salvador Dali was not a "total" genius but only a virtuoso painter; I think his immeasurable creativity is greatly downplayed by the author.
I've Never Read A More Vivid Biography
Like Dali's art, this bio takes effort but it's worth it
Shaw's "Saint Joan"- Shaw, like Cauchon, claimed that Joan was guilty of heresy for wearing male clothing allegedly as a personal preference, despite the fact that both of these men were aware of her own statements to the contrary. She was quoted as saying that she wore soldiers' clothing (of a type which had "laces and points" by which the pants and tunic could be securely tied together) primarily to protect herself, as her guards had tried to rape her on several occasions; this reason is also given in some of the 15th century chronicles, along with similar quotes from Joan herself on the need to protect her chastity while surrounded by the men in her army. The medieval Church allowed an exemption in such cases of necessity (read St. Thomas Aquinas' "Summa Theologica", or St. Hildegard's "Scivias", for example): the practice of so-called "cross-dressing" was only condemned if it was done as a preference. Shaw rejects all of the above based on the specious argument that the "other women" who accompanied armies in that era didn't wear such clothing, ignoring the fact that these "other women" were: 1) prostitutes, who wore provocative dresses because they were trying to encourage sexual encounters rather than the opposite; and 2) aristocratic women sometimes were given command of their family's armies in the absence of their husband or son, but these women did not bed down at night among the troops in the field, as Joan often did. Shaw chooses to ignore these circumstances.
- On a somewhat related subject, Shaw tries to portray her as a rebel against "gender norms", again ignoring her own statements and the circumstances of the era. She was quoted by one eyewitness as saying that, quote, "I would rather stay home with my poor mother and spin wool [rather than lead an army]", which hardly sounds like someone who is trying to reject traditional gender roles. When another woman, Catherine de la Rochelle, wanted to get involved, Joan told her to "go home to your husband and tend your household". At no point do we find her making any 'feminist' statements. She was given titular command of an army for the same reason other religious visionaries sometimes were given such a role in that era, not as part of a "feminist crusade".
- Shaw admits that Joan was a devout Catholic and yet claims her as "the first Protestant martyr" - in the same sentence. This seems to be a rather willful contradiction, and the claim of "Protestant tendencies" is merely based, once again, on the old business of accepting Cauchon's claims about her at face value while ignoring the circumstances. If you read the documents you will find that Joan never opposed the Church as a whole: she merely stated her objection to being tried by a panel of pro-English clergy, and repeatedly asked to be given a non-partisan group instead or to be brought before the Pope. It was a violation of Inquisitorial procedure to stack the panel of assessors with people who were pursuing a secular vendetta against the accused: what Cauchon and his cohorts were doing, as Inquisitor Brehal later pointed out during the appeal, was itself an act of heresy. The notion that the medieval Church viewed all Inquisitorial panels as "infallible" and therefore not open to question is just a stereotype, bluntly contradicted by actual medieval theological writings: St. Hildegard, in her 12th century book "Scivias", warns the clergy against judging someone in error or out of anger, as it would be the offending clergy who would be punished for it by God. Joan was perfectly within her rights, even under the rules of the medieval Church, to question her biased judges, and was declared a martyr for Catholicism by Inquisitor Brehal when her execution was declared invalid in 1456. Shaw ignores this. The claim that his play is somehow vindicated by the fact that it was "vetted" by one Catholic (out of the hundreds of millions of Catholics worldwide) is a pointless argument: there are "Catholics" who claim that Joan was having adulterous sex, and all sorts of defamatory allegations. The bottom line is: this play does little more than repeat the slander leveled at Joan by the men who cruelly put her to death, despite the work of generations of scholars to bring a more accurate picture of the issue to light.
Saint Joan, by George Bernard Shawall in all, i'd like to think that it was a decent play, and definitely worth reading.
Wit and Spirituality
For this she won a pulitzer?Cather once stated that she experienced everything that ever went into her writing by the time she was 15. Clearly that didn't include the Western Front. The second half of the book, based on her research and interviews with WWI vets, is not her experience and it shows. The events and descriptions are shallow and superficial, and felt more like an outline, without flesh and blood. The book was a disappointment.
The Inevitable EndIn the end, where we knew we were headed, we long a little bit for the entrapment of our hero's Nebraska, but feel a little bit liberated by his new freedom.
Square Pegs and Dragon Slayers in the Nebraskan PlainAlthough strong and capable, farming is the worst profession imaginable for this red headed hero. Willa Cather shows every respect for the hard honest life of a Nebraskan farmer, but Claude makes a hard honest fiasco of the farming life. This book is the story of a soul. A strong daring soul that needs to wrestle something bigger than itself (even if it loses). Claude begins by trying to manage his father's farm. When he spends a few years at college, he is shown the world of social ambition, but neither of these experiences set his life on the right path. If you are interested in the dynamics of male/female relationships, Claude's marriage provides plenty of food for thought. Willa Cather chose a very interesting backdrop for her hero when she describes the home front of these two very black sheep.
This book may be the most realistic description of middle-west sentiment during the first world war. It describes the emotions of Americans who volunteered to fight for people they had only met via the black and white media of newspapers. The war becomes a sort of crusade, and Claude feels compelled to answer the call. Willa Cather gives a wise description of the issues, and even expresses the sentiments of honest German farmers in Nebraska. Claude's best friend is from the Bohemian old country, and doesn't quite agree with Claude's choices.
This book has received quite a few reserved reviews. I recommend this book without reservations.
This sequel is a must-read, but not as good as Little WomenIn Jo's Boys, the story is finished out. The boys mature and we learn what happens to them. Some fare well, others don't prosper. This is what makes Jo's Boy's somewhat somber in nature. Alcott notes the passing of Marmee, and others depart as well. A sadder tale, and a bittersweet end to the saga of the March family. A funny tidbit is the appearance of fans to bother Mother Bhaer (Jo). Alcott afflicts her alter-ego with the same annoyances that the fans created for her after Little Women. One uninvited admirer even cadges a postage stamp from her desk. A bit of real-life levity in an otherwise subdued book.
Even if not up to Little Women's literary heights, Jo's Boys is a must-read if you want to know how it all turned out. (And who can resist that!)
The rest of the story!
Adults...
A fine introduction to Trollope's (prolific) writing
What Should A Virtuous Man Do?This book certainly would be a good one for a book club read and discussion. The reformer, the lawyers, the church hierarchy and Reverend Harding all have their views on the matter. Author Trollope does not really pass final judgment on his characters; none of them are cast in black and white terms. In fact Trollope makes the unusual move of bringing a criticism of both the press and Charles Dickens into the novel. The press makes strident value judgments about issues without bothering itself with all the facts or considering the effect their articles will have on the people involved; Charles Dickens treats people as being all good or all bad. Indeed, I found myself arguing with myself for several days after reading The Warden. What should the Rev. Harding done? Was the issue shrouded in shades of gray, or was it clear cut one way or the other?
Many critics consider this to be one of Trollope's lesser works, yet to me it is a very interesting, valuable presentation of an ethical dilemma. And for readers who are reluctant to pick up Victorian novels because of their common 700+ page lengths, this is a little gem at less than 300 pages. Criticism? Well I did a bit of eye-rolling during some of the melodramatic passages. All and all, though, this is an excellent read. From an historical standpoint there was considerable attention being paid to clergy income during this period in England. Trollope's tale was very timely in this regard.
One final note. There are many outstanding Victorian novels that I would give a five star rating to. This book doesn't quite fit into that hall of fame so I have given it just 4 stars, which shouldn't be interpreted as a slight to Mr. Trollope or The Warden.
It was the beginning of an wonderful adventure . . .
Not for everyone...A must for romantics and anyone who enjoys a bit of a philosophical challenge!
Splendid 19th Century Travel Companion!
The Best American novel
So So Guide To Les PaulTony Bacon has written a lot of books on vintage guitars and guitar collecting. I like his stuff, but he very often gets things just plain wrong. I am certain it has more to do with mistakes in the editing process than anything, but there are some nit-picky errors in this book.
The best treatment of Les Pauls and vintage Gibson electrics that I have seen is A.R. Duchossior's excellent and exhaustively researched book "Gibson Electrics - The Classic Years" (published by Hal Leonard).
This little book is a good introduction to the history of this important model and it has some nice photographs of various iterations of the Les Paul model from 1952 to the date of publication in the late 1990s, but if you're looking for a completely comprehensive guide/history to the Les Paul guitar that is 100% accurate this is not it. Still, if you're a guitar nut (like me) it's a nice little book to have.
Decent book for guitar "anoraks".
Decent book for guitar "anoraks".