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What are you reading?

Reading pulp fiction, John D MacDonald's Travis McGee series. The author certainly had an interesting perspective on life.
 
For something a little different I tracked down Discovering the Universe by Comins this week. It's an introductory, undergraduate text on all things space. I've been looking for something more advanced than popular books, and it's a little lighter than I was aiming for, but it might be about the best I can do for a a broad overview.

I was looking for comprehensiveness and depth, but it only has a touch of the latter. I bought the ninth, rather than the most recent, edition as it was a lot cheaper.
 
I just finished Prime Green, a memoir of the sixties by the late novelist Robert Stone (Hall of Mirrors, Dog Soldiers, etc.). I thought it was rather flat, considering the material he had to work with. For instance, he hung with Baba Ram Das, Timothy Leary, Paul Newman and Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters. He actually became good friends with Kesey, and spent a lot of time with the Keseys, including when Kesey was on the lamb in Mexico, but he doesn’t seem to want to communicate anything about who Kesey really was – personality, sense of humor, or not, philosophy, whatever.

He doesn’t try to describe what it’s like taking psychedelic drugs, for which I commend him, as that would be almost certainly a disaster. I didn’t find his remarks on writing to be particularly compelling. The most notable writing in the book was a description, accompanied by many mea culpas and expressions of guilt, of doing NO2, nitrous oxide (laughing gas), sucking it from condom balloons, with children among others. I identified with that passage because I remember, from the 60s and 70s, a lot of drugs being done around children, and I feel similar guilt for my part in that.

Of course my parents thought it was sophisticated to give their kids wine (albeit mixed with water) with dinner.

Anyway, next up is something local, the Pulitzer Prize winning Empire of the Summer Moon by S.C. Gwynne. It’s about the Comanches and the war with them in the U.S. southern plains. It focuses on Quanah Parker, the half-white warrior chief.
 
I've just read a very small play called The Stronger, by Strindberg. Two characters, both women. One married, one unmarried. One of the characters does not utter a single syllable. Not one tittle, not one jot.

It is a good piece of work, and I'd love to see it performed.

SPOILER ALERT just below...













watch out...















tread carefully now...











there you are, madam...
















very well sir, we're almost there...












Oh yeah, the hide thingy!



Good points made about the importance of listening to the person one is having a discussion with, oral or verbal.

 
I've just read a very small play called The Stronger, by Strindberg. Two characters, both women. One married, one unmarried. One of the characters does not utter a single syllable. Not one tittle, not one jot.

It is a good piece of work, and I'd love to see it performed.

Your description reminds me of Bergman's 1966 movie  Persona_(1966_film).
 
The True Gen by Denis Brian (1988)
I've read tons about the major players of the Lost Generation, but this may be my favorite book on the period. It's an oral biography of Ernest Hemingway, consisting of hundreds of comments and memories by Papa's friends, enemies, family members, and people who knew him only briefly (including the doctor who treated him in his last horrible days.) Brian talked to nearly everyone who knew Hemingway and who was still alive in the 1970s and 80s. Whatever you think of Hemingway's work (which in my mind runs from the brilliant Sun Also Rises and the peerless short stories to the spottier stuff that started to predominate in the mid-30s), he was one hellacious character with contradictory qualities. Brian starts with the thesis that Hemingway was good at projecting a persona, and that by digging into the details with those who knew him, we can at least appreciate the complexity of the man and his life. One more thing I like about the book: behind Hemingway's ruddy energy and the need to be the ultimate man, there was a vein of humor, often sly and sarcastic. Even those who fell afoul of Hem's bad temper or ill use could look back on him with a laugh. He was an astounding person to be around. (The four wives especially were in for the adventure of their lives.)
 
Counterpanes by Gaston Miron. Miron was the most well known Quebecois poet, and in his day was a defender of French-Canadian language and culture. When I was in Montreal in 2016 a bookshop owner pointed me to L'Homme rapaillé, which is his most famous work. Despite my grand aspirations I soon discovered that you just can't grasp French poetry unless you're fluent in French. But recently I learned that Counterpanes offers English translations, so I picked it up.

I was also sent a modern, involved Astrobiology textbook by one of my younger cousins this week. The text looks phenomenal, but at this point I'm buried under so many books it might be a while before I give it a serious look.
 
My copy of Waiting for the Angel: A Biography finally showed up from across the Atlantic, it looks like I had ordered it on Dec. 14th. It covers the life of George Seferis who won the Nobel for literature in 1963. I'm fully expecting it to be a fascinating book, I've seen nothing but great reviews and Seferis was one of a kind. This one will actually be getting my attention for a while.
 
A Moveable Feast - Ernest Hemingway's memoir of being a young husband and father and finding his voice as a writer is set in 1920s Paris and contains some of his most evocative writing. This is my third time through the book. It was one of the last manuscripts that he left in complete (or nearly complete) form, and we are lucky to have it. There are some harsh notes in it -- he hated Zelda Fitzgerald, and she hated him. In Hemingway's view, Zelda resented Scott's early success and sabotaged his work habits. I had forgotten the title he gave to his chapter about Zelda: Hawks Do Not Share.
Highly recommended; every Hemingway buff needs to read it. If you're interested in the 1920s scene in art, literature, and sport, you should read it.
 
A Moveable Feast - Ernest Hemingway's memoir of being a young husband and father and finding his voice as a writer is set in 1920s Paris and contains some of his most evocative writing. This is my third time through the book. It was one of the last manuscripts that he left in complete (or nearly complete) form, and we are lucky to have it. There are some harsh notes in it -- he hated Zelda Fitzgerald, and she hated him. In Hemingway's view, Zelda resented Scott's early success and sabotaged his work habits. I had forgotten the title he gave to his chapter about Zelda: Hawks Do Not Share.
Highly recommended; every Hemingway buff needs to read it. If you're interested in the 1920s scene in art, literature, and sport, you should read it.

I know someone who considers himself a writer. One book to his credit, twenty years effort.
He read Moveable Feast and all he got out of it was, 'Geez, what a lot of nane-dropping.'
 
A Moveable Feast - Ernest Hemingway's memoir of being a young husband and father and finding his voice as a writer is set in 1920s Paris and contains some of his most evocative writing. This is my third time through the book. It was one of the last manuscripts that he left in complete (or nearly complete) form, and we are lucky to have it. There are some harsh notes in it -- he hated Zelda Fitzgerald, and she hated him. In Hemingway's view, Zelda resented Scott's early success and sabotaged his work habits. I had forgotten the title he gave to his chapter about Zelda: Hawks Do Not Share.
Highly recommended; every Hemingway buff needs to read it. If you're interested in the 1920s scene in art, literature, and sport, you should read it.

I know someone who considers himself a writer. One book to his credit, twenty years effort.
He read Moveable Feast and all he got out of it was, 'Geez, what a lot of nane-dropping.'

I would say he missed the dominant tone of the work, which is Hemingway's aching regret that he left his first wife, the sweetest and most unassuming of his four wives. Hemingway is clearly trying to relive the fresh, youthful experience of sharing the wonder of his emerging powers as a writer who had a new voice with a sympathetic mate, whom he would ditch in a callous manner.
In Paris, in the 20s, Hemingway knew all the key expatriot writers, and he left us sharp impressions of a good half dozen of them, plus glimpses of painters and society figures. I can't sympathize with a reader who sees that as name-dropping, which implies shallowness and ego-stroking. It was one of the most significant cultural scenes of the century, and Hemingway captures a lot of it with his own witty slant. Anyway, there's no accounting for taste. Feast came out in '64, I believe, and has stood the test of time.
 
The Rainbow Book of American History (1955) by Earl Schenck Miers, ill. by James Daugherty
This was my favorite book when I was about 8, 9, or 10, and I bought a nice copy when I was in my thirties. Reading it now before sending it off to my second cousin's kids. The text is good, if starchy in places, but the Daugherty illustrations in pencil and chalk, full of rippling motion and musculature, make the book a classic. Each time I look at one of his illustrations, it's a picture I knew and loved as a kid. I've discovered from on-line searches that this book is now back in paperback, and is popular with the home school crowd as a basic U.S. history. But anyone who is curious about this book -- or better yet, remembers it and seeks a reunion, should find it in the out-of-print market in its original hardcover version from World Publishing Co. (Full disclaimer: I have two copies, one being the updated edition from 1968, and my copy of that edition will stay on my shelf.)
 
And also I Am That by Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj, who followed Advaita Hinduism. Very good, if not a bit repetitive.

I got about 60 pages into this one then realized I needed to start it again and slow down. It is repetitive since the central idea isn't very complicated, but if there was a secular religion to pay attention to Advaita is the one. Throughout the book you get different angles and phrasings on Advaita, and tons of great insight. But it's very easy to glaze over it and miss the central points.

The book can be found online here

So slowly picking away at it. Every few nights I read another section or two, and I'm just about back at my old bookmark!
 
My copy of Waiting for the Angel: A Biography finally showed up from across the Atlantic, it looks like I had ordered it on Dec. 14th. It covers the life of George Seferis who won the Nobel for literature in 1963. I'm fully expecting it to be a fascinating book, I've seen nothing but great reviews and Seferis was one of a kind. This one will actually be getting my attention for a while.

This book has turned out to be a bit of a let down. Very detailed, but it's too detailed on less important parts of Seferis' life, and not detailed enough on the stuff I'm actually interested in (mainly his writing). It seems like the author used Seferis' diary, and outlined a near exact, year by year account of his life. It's the best I can do to understand the guy, but it's a bit of a slog to get through.

And now I'm waiting on a second biography of Leonard Cohen titled Various Positions to arrive in the mail. Apparently it's author unearthed a lot of interesting detail that wasn't found in the biography I read last year. Stuff that Cohen wasn't happy about being revealed, and I imagine I won't find it too surprising, but I'm interested in taking a look.
 
I've just picked up two new books that I'm pretty excited about. The Silva and Browne's "A Most Interesting Problem: What Darwin's Descent of Man Got Right and Wrong About Human Evolution".Edited by a professional acquaintance, but that isn't a downside in this case, as I am never not up for a bit of Darwinia and I was too young to have a properly critical view of Darwinism when I first encountered it. We need more sensible but unashamed critiques of race theory in the public eye, so I hope the book does well. And it seems from initial reports that it is doing well. The other new one is Michael Hunter's "The Decline of Magic: Britain in the Enlightenment". So I guess I'm having a little unofficial Philosophy of Science Month!
 
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I'm reading Nomadland, Jessica Bruder's journalistic study of American middle class migrant workers. I watched the movie on Hulu but haven't reviewed it in the movie thread. The movie actually ended up romanticizing the subject in an odd way, so I got interested in reading the book to find out the actual details of these people's lives.
 
And now I'm waiting on a second biography of Leonard Cohen titled Various Positions to arrive in the mail. Apparently it's author unearthed a lot of interesting detail that wasn't found in the biography I read last year. Stuff that Cohen wasn't happy about being revealed, and I imagine I won't find it too surprising, but I'm interested in taking a look.

This arrived a few days ago and I'm enjoying it quite a bit. I was surprised as some of it's reviews weren't great, but after taking a look I disagree with many of them. In counter to I'm Your Man it's much shorter, and more of a character piece than a biography. It seems like the author (Ira Nadel) had a better sense of revealing who Cohen was as an artist and man. Where Simmons' version had enormous detail but kind of skimmed over the surface of his life.

The two books actually complement each other quite well. I wonder if Simmons' approach had anything to do with what Nadel had already done.
 
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