tropic of cancer

According to Miller's brief autobiography, he began writing Tropic of Cancer while living in Louveciennes,  a western suburbs of Paris, where he met Anais Nin. He had left his second wife, June Edith Smith, at home during this time and lived on the streets of Paris, and slept, as he says, where he could. This was in 1931-2. During this time he worked at the Paris edition of the Chicago Tribune as a proof reader, and taught English for a while in Lycee Carnot. Nin was his lover during this period and kept him housed, fed, and helped finance the first printing of this book. Nin also wrote a short preface, which she ends by saying that Miller digs beneath the roots, for subterranean springs.

By 1933, Miller had visited  Luxembourg with his Clichy roommate, Alfred Perles, and begun work on Black Spring, and also a book on Lawrence which he never finished. His wife came back to Europe briefly, but left again after asking for a divorce. In 1934, Tropic of Cancer was published after a number of re-writes, a a decisive moment, in Miller's words. That was nearly 80 years ago. Tropic of Cancer could have been written yesterday. But if it was, no one would care; it could have only have been written then.

Miller writes with seeming abandon, using language that is both coarse and foul, and beautifully poetic. His prose is in many ways prose poetry. He talks about the underbelly of society and what it is to be a thinking, eating, sexual animal which lives in this society we've made for ourselves. He looks up from his depression-era squalor to the fat cats with 50 cent corona cigars, dripping juice down their faces, but not with hatred as you might expect, but with a journalist's impartiality. If he feels anything about the state of man, as horrible and useless as it all is, you could say its glee. He seems to laugh as he looks on, constantly amused by what he sees, as if he looked on the antics of young children, or dogs frolicking.

Miller lauds the works of those he sees as shinning examples in his prose, he talks of Walt Whitman as a poet who understood what is is to be a man, but worried that Whitman's language was now (in 1931) almost incomprehensible to modern readers. He also went on about Matisse, saying that he was at the very hub of the wheel that was falling apart around us.

One of my favorite lines:

"The wallpaper with which the men of science have covered the world of reality is falling to tatters."

There has been so much written about Henry Miller, that you certainly don't need me to go on about it too. What I will say is: if you've read some beat or surrealism and it worked for you, you'll enjoy this. If you're interested in the birth of modern American writing, it seems to me that this is one of the stops. Is it a little odd? Sure. Is the language foul and the treatment of women appalling? You bet. Is it amazing to read such honest writing, from an era before my parents were born? Absolutely.

Read this book.

splendid suns

Khaled Hosseini made a name for himself with The Kite Runner, in 2003. His followup of life in Afghanistan is A Thousand Splendid Suns, published in 2007. Hosseini was lauded for his debut novel, I think, because of his intimate view of life. Not only is he telling stories of a country that we in the West don't understand, but he tells them in a way that help us to understand what it is to be there, to live there. Hosseini isn't trying to explain what it Afghanistan is, and how it may be different from the places his readers live in or know, but rather, how Afghanistan as a place shapes the people and their history, right down to how they live their lives in their own homes, and even in the hearts. By doing this, Hosseini encourages us to examine how our own places form and shape our lives and our dreams.

What also impressed me about A Thousand Splendid Suns is even though Khaled Hosseini reports in excruciating detail, how difficult women's lives are and have been in Afghanistan, he writes this story from a woman's point of view; a few women, in fact. Splendid Suns follows the lives of these women through the upheaval of the last few decades: from the Soviet occupation, to their expulsion (with American aid to warlords), to civil war between the American-armed warlords and the dissolution of civilized life in large portions of the country, to the eventual wholesale decay of society, which allowed the rise of the Taliban to fill the void, and their eventual harboring of Al Qaeda. Finally, the introduction of American and Allied troops, post September 11, to remove the Taliban and dismantle Al Qaeda (read: kill).

What struck me most is Hosseini's portrayal of the utter hopelessness of the captivity, servitude, and general loathing suffered by women at the hands of men in Afghanistan during the civil strife, and especially the time of Taliban rule, who didn't just turn a blind eye to this but encouraged and indeed mandated it. But it wasn't just that; it was that even amidst this horrific culture of inequality and disdain for women, women continued to have hope. Against an overwhelming crush of oppression and abuse that lasted decades, and in some some places, I am sure, still goes on, women bear up, and refuse to be conquered in spirit. No matter how much their oppressors shoveled at them, they refused to be overcome. And in some small ways, even managed to sometimes shovel back.

Khaled Hosseini has created a modern day heroine story, that left me with my heart in my throat in many instances. It is an enraged clamor in the quiet night of complacency. A story of outrage, laced with beauty, that can--and perhaps has, in spirit--ignite the passion of a people. It is also a reminder to us, who were force fed the stories of American-Allied involvement, what our interventions can mean to the people who suffer both during, and the sometimes worse, vacuous aftermath of our policy of self-interest.

Hosseini has no trouble reminding us of what we may have forgotten: we custom-built these problems ourselves. We fabricated the very environments that later spawned our worst fears and nightmares, and in many cases traded our own feelings of safety and security for that of others. Its a reminder that when we make these decisions to intervene, they have long-lasting implications, that if not seen through to their end, when swallowed in the clamor of 'getting-out-while-we-still-can', they will come back to haunt us. And begs the question: what will come of our recent wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, in 20 or 30 years, and will we remember then our hand in its genesis.

Read this book.

clutch of constables

I found this copy of Clutch of Constables,  by Ngaio Marsh at my library's book sale. I'm pretty sure This is a first edition, Little, Brown & Company; printed in the United States.

Dame Ngaio Marsh* is a native New Zealander, who spent some time in England during her younger years, if I'm getting this right. She's written a bunch of books, and was also into production of plays, and other things. In 1966, she was awarded the honorific Dame, which is short for Dame Commanderof the British Empire, equivilanet to knighthood (and the honorific: Sir) for gentlemen. Good on you Dame Marsh.

I had a lot of fun reading this one. It was loaded with Englishisms--from 1969 no less--so some of it took some puzzling, but I was able to stay with it without any trouble. The police slang may have been the hardest. But some stuff just takes knowledge of the language I simply don't have. Take a look at this for example: One of the characters is attempting help another recover a lost item. The owner of the item is worriedly complaining that the rescue attempt may further damage her lost goods. An onlooker, who knows them both has this to add:

"Stone the Crows!" Mr Lazenby astonishingly ejaculated.

Says it all, right?

This story has an interesting structure: each of the chapters is broken down into two or three acts, which are prefaced by the narrator discussing the mystery, after the fact, while carefully avoiding giving away any of the details before their time.The acts themselves are told from the point of view of an onlooker, who happens to be married to the narrator. She eventually calls in her husband, a police detective, when foul play is discovered. When he arrives, and sends his wife off to safety, the POV switches to him, altho he does pop back in at the end to finish up the narration.

I enjoyed this quite a bit, and after searching for this title on line, it may even have a little collector value. Sweet!

* This helpful tidbit, comes from the Ngaio Marsh Trust's site: Ngaio (rhymes with "bio") is a Maori name meaning competent. It also is the common name for the native shrub myopororum laetum. 

travel marker series ii

Dinosaur Monument is the second in the Travel Marker Series. If you clicky-click on the image, you'll see a fold down the middle; This is from a trip across the US in an envelope, from a friend* who was kind enough to think of me on a cross-country bicycle trip.

From the National Park Service web site:

Dinosaur National Monument is located in both Colorado and Utah. Each state provides a chance to visit very distinctive areas of the monument. The east side of the monument located in Colorado provides access to deep canyons along the Green and Yampa rivers. Dramatic views are available along the Harpers Corner Road. The west side of the monument located in Utah features the world-famous dinosaur quarry where visitors can see over 1,500 fossils still embedded in the cliff face.

Sounds pretty cool, right? Check this out, from the reverse of the bookmark.

Dinosaur National Monument is the legacy of rivers, past and present. Here, preserved in the sands of an ancient river, is a time capsule from the world of dinosaurs. The dinosaur quarry discovered here by Earl Douglas in 1909 has yielded the bones of 10 species of "terrible lizards", including Apatosaurus, Stegosaurus, and Allosaurus -- the most fearsome meat-eating dinosaur for its time.

The Quarry Visitor Center is where you can stop in, park, and plan out your trip. Shuttle buses take folks from here to the Quarry Exhibit Hall. You say you'd like or bike in? Here you go:

Coordinates for the Quarry Visitor Center (Utah side of monument)
Latitude:N 40° 26' 17.0277"
Longitude:W 109° 18' 25.6701"

The Quarry Exhibit Hall is where you can find dino bones, and other paleontological goodies. Out in the park, there are canyons, rivers, ancient petroglyphs and pictographs,† boating, hiking, and folded layers of the earth's strata!

Dudes, lets go!

* Thanks to Alyson!
† Petroglyphs are images pecked into rock while pictographs are painted images. Thank you, National Park Service. Incidentally, these are old Native American artworks.

poisonwood

I've only borrowed a few books from my office lending library over the years yeah, that's right. we have a small lending library in my office As part of that endeavor, I put together some bookmarks so I could keep track of the books that I loaned and borrowed from said library. I talked about these homemade markers just a few months ago, but the reason I bring it up here is that I found one of my bookmarks in the copy of The Poisonwood Bible I just read, which informed me that I borrowed this book from my office lending library on April 22, 2008. Yep, just over 5 years ago.

I'm not sure why I let this book sit on my shelf for 5+ years before reading it, especially now that I've read it, but I can guess. One, I'm not a big fan of reading the hot books of the day. I get the feeling that hot books are driven more by hype than substance. Which leads me my second guess: this book was chosen for the Oprah book club. See the little tag up there on the cover? I've never seen the Oprah book club on TV--which is where I assume it is, or was if its canceled like the rest of Oprah on television--but I can imagine that its based on the idea that you can get a million people to feel like they are in a private, exclusive club, with Oprah as the president, talking about reading books. Except that nobody talks about books except Oprah, and the people she brings on her book club show. I've  read or heard author's talking about how this crummy idea has impacted book sales for a few chosen individuals, and completely skewed sales for all kinds of other (read: left out) writers for years. Just sounds like a bad idea, poorly executed.*

The Poisonwood Bible is, however, a very good book despite my caterwauling. Barbara Kingsolver has taken an epic journey by five amazing women and girls, through time and vast culture differences, and has broken it down to its parts as told by each of them, some of them from the time they were very young. A multiple point-of-view narrative can be tricky to read, and I'm sure tricky to write, but this one flows out beautifully, with each of these women and girls telling their story in their own voice. And as they grow together and move through time, we can see their perspectives changing, and even how they influence one another over time.

The Poisonwood Bible is a story of family, growth, life, death, and re-birth. Its a story of Africa, America, and a story of their intertwined and often uncomfortable relationships; relationships we can see reflected in these characters, their cultures, and environments.

The reality of Africa is more nuanced, beautiful, sad, complex, and terrifying than I imagined, or can be told in a novel, but Kingsolver did a good job of lifting the veil a little on this for me. The other take away message: this could very easily been filed under chick-lit, and I don't know if I missed that during the hype stage of this book, or I've just forgotten, but what I will say is that it certainly didn't read that way. I was enthralled with the journey these women and girls had gone on, and how they dealt with the things they encountered, not least of which was their treatment by the men in their lives and in society.

Nicely Done.

Read this book.

* This is apparently called the "Oprah Effect." That's a damn shame.

silmarillion

Ah, Silmarillion.

I feel like the The Silmarillion is an old friend. One I can talk about The Hobbit with; someone who knows what the cry Elbereth Gilthoniel means, and why this prayer is especially meaningful when one is alone, in the dark, and afraid. And why it is that Galadriel seems so sad, so powerful, and yet so worried and so driven. And why she feels that, in the end, she may have passed a test. And... if she is so powerful, who would it be who could presume to try her.

In The Silmarillion, we find out why it is that elves do what they do, and feel so strongly about men, Middle Earth, and Sauron. Why the story of Beren and Lúthien is still on their minds. Why the stars are so important to them, and what the sea really means when it calls to them.

The Silmarillion is a guidebook--a user's manual--for The Lords of the Rings and The Hobbit. Its where Tolkien started, and where he ended up. He began the stories that survive in The Silmarillion, back in the 30s, and worked on them all through his career. They were eventually edited for publishing by his son, Christopher Tolkien, with aid from Guy Gavriel Kay, who has written a number of fantasy books of his own, which I have enjoyed and recommended.*

I don't think a lot of folks make it through the first 30 pages of this book because of where it begins. When you're Tolkien, and you're creating a new universe (or sub-universe within our own universe, as he would probably put it) where do you begin, but at the beginning? The Silmarillion is both a history, and a character driven tale, told from before the very beginning of time, from the point of view of the elves. And these characters--and there are a lot of them--get their start here, so it makes sense to tell their stories. Skipping this part only makes it harder to understand what comes after, but if that's what it takes, skip it. Skip both the Ainulindalë and the Valaquenta. Yeah, man! Go right ahead to the Quenta Silmarillion; there's even a little summary of whats been happening right there, at the beginning.

Then...

Then... if you like it... you can go back and read the first part. It will be like the back story to the back story, dude! its like 30 pages, don't be a puss

One last thing, if you have read either The Children of Hùrin or Unfinished Tales, or plan to, there is some repetition of materials. The Silmarillion contains a few abbreviated versions of stories contained in these other volumes.

If you've scrabbled around in the appendixes of The Lord of the Rings (and you know who you are) you owe it to yourself to read this book.


* You'll find the The Fionavar Tapestry Trilogy by Kay listed in the 'good' box in the right hand column.

travel marker series i

This is the first marker in the Travel Marker Series, showcasing bookmarks from places other than around my home, where I pick up most of the goods. In many cases, these markers are either found by me, or someone who has then given them to me, or that I have picked up in my own travels. The found ones have come from used books, mostly. Altho I occasionally will pick one up on my travels, left by someone else, in a hotel for example.

The first is a freebie from the S. Miguel Park Hotel, in Ponta Delgada, Portugal. Ponta Delgada is on Sao Miguel (Azores) about 1500 km west of Lisbon, in the Atlantic. Sao Miguel is the largest of the islands in the Azores Archipelago and Ponta Delgada is both the largest city, and the administrative capital.

The hotel sits in the heart of downtown, and appears to be about three quarters of a kilometer from the ocean. The address for the hotel is given on the reverse of the book mark as Rua Manuel Augusto Amaral, Ponta Delgada, Sao Miguel 9500-222, Portugal.

According to their website, the hotel has panoramic views, and is close to the Botanical Gardens, I assume from the map that they are taking about Jardim José do Canto, but there are others in town as well. The S. Miguel Park Hotel is Bensaude Turismo Hotel.

Sounds like fun, right? And who doesn't like a free bookmark?

clash of kings

George R. R Martin is a wordy guy. I'm not complaining, mind you at least, I don't think I am. yet. That's just a fact I think we can all agree on, whether we like The Song of Fire and Ice saga or not, and so far I do. Its just--there's a lot of it, brother.

So I just pounded thru A Clash of Kings. Its been about 42 years since I started reading it, but it did keep my attention all the way through. Its just, so... soap opera-y. There's, like, a hundred and seven major characters, and another hundred and seven (thousand) minor characters, and they all have four names,  are related to just about everyone else, at least by marriage. At least half of them are missing fingers, and the other half has either lost an eye, or something else. Multiple POV writing does make for some interesting character development however, but I guess just about any character is bound to develop a little bit after a few thousand pages. how many more of these books are there?

I just re-read my review of the first book, and it looks like I thought it was great. Its been a little while, so I don't remember, but its pretty clear from the review. I enjoyed this book, no question, and I found myself reading more during the day and on the weekends, but all in all, I can't say that I loved it, only that it was good. And there is a bunch more to read. I often find that the first book in a series is good, and the follow up volumes not quite as exciting, and then the final volume really does the job. Leaving me feeling like the middle books are bridge between the two good parts of the story.* I hope this isn't the case here (there are a lot of middle books, I certainly hope not.) Martin has set himself up more like the Harry Potter books however, in that each of these first two at least have a story arc of there own, albeit not as distinct a separate storyline as the Harry Potter book.

The long drawn out story arc is where the soap opera feel comes from. We move from character to character, learning a bit more of the story as a whole as we move forward, but the overall storyline arc is so vast I can't see a way clear to the end yet.

Well, I guess I'll be there. But just like the first one, I'll let it sit for a while before jumping back into this fray. Onward, to another tome!


* I think this more often the case with trilogies.

master of rain

REPOST - This post, originally posted on April 2, 2013 was taken down by blogger after a complaint that it violated Blogger's Content Policy. I have gone through this blog entry carefully, and the only thing I found was that many of the links I provided were no longer working, and one link led me to a site that Google warned me had malicious content. I have removed that link, and updated the others. If any of my readers finds an issue with any of my posts or the links therein, you should of course notify Blogger AND please notify me by commenting in another post or on the "books" or "backmatter" tabs so I know what the problem is.

Now, new and improved...

The Master of Rain is the first novel by Tom Bradby. Unfortunately, it read like it. To be fair, it got better as it went on; I could almost see the writing improve as he went along. The story was good tho; I can imagine it as a movie plot. Screwing it down to screenplay size may even improve the story. It may be that its too similar to other stories/movies in this genre to actually get any traction, however.

Bradby is a news man from England, stationed in Asia, so he's using his experience there to add to the realism in his story, supplemented by research into the mid-1920s in Shanghai, when the story is set. It takes place at about the mid-point of the hundred years or so that the European lasted in Shanghai, just after the construction of the Shanghai Pudong Development Bank and Custom House, but before Chiang Kaishek came to town in 1927.

The story takes place in the British settlement, and a little in the French settlement, where big European business was flourishing in the post Treaty of Nanking era. The Master of Rain is a crime drama, with sub-plots of love, organized crime, and sex. As I said, the story was good, so it kept me reading. What I didn't like were the funny things that cropped up in the writing that drew my attention away from the story.

The first one I saw was on page 43: Our man is being asked where some files are by his supervisor, who blames this picky attention to detail on their boss (Biers), by saying: "Biers is so bloody anal about all that stuff." Anal? Really? In 1926? I took a look on the Google corpus for British English* in the 1920s, just to be sure I wasn't crazy. I got just over 3000 hits--medical text books, insect text books, anatomy treatises. Not a whole lot of general use of Freud's lingo had penetrated sorry, couldn't help it into the day-to-day language of coppers in 1926.

Since then, Bradby has written a few more books, so he must be doing something right. One of them, Shadow Dancer, was made into a movie, so I guess the impression I had of movie-like storyline was close.

* The Google Corpus doesn't seem as easy to use in 2023, but I was able to use Google's Books Ngram Viewer to confirm that the  word was occasionally used, but I'm not sure it was used meaning "too worried about being organized and tidy". My guess is that small number of hits were medical journals, etc. as identified in my earlier corpus search noted above.**

** For what its worth, the term "Anal Retentive" first entered the lexicon in 1936, according to Merriam-Webster, or about 10 years after this story takes place. Sounds like that makes me right, but we aren't splitting hairs here.