05.31.06
Posted in Reviews at 20:49 by RjZ
Umberto Eco’s Baudolino is another book that was recommended to me. Eco’s book is dense and sometimes difficult. Have your dictionary at the ready. I read slowly and a thick book like this was quite daunting. Indeed, often, while reading it I kept wondering why I was continuing. It’s not that like I didn’t like it, but I just couldn’t seem to focus on it.
The paperback version was too large to take with me on trips and thus, I finished two other books since I started Baudolino but I stuck to it. I am glad I did. It is an amazing tale, amazingly written (even if it did take me most of the book to realize it) Eco’s attention to detail and clever story telling forces the reader to think, to philosophize, to reflect and to wonder.
Baudolino is a travel book through time, history and legend about philosophy and meaning of words and beliefs and…about lies. Because the narrator tells us from the very beginning that he’s a liar; that everything we read is from one who tells tales and stretches the truth. The power of his lies changes the world inside this historical fiction and makes us wonder how powerful lies are our own world.
Reading Baudolino forces you to put your beliefs and skepticism to the test. How much does the truth matter if false premises yield true and beneficial results?
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04.23.06
Posted in Reviews at 8:19 by RjZ
There is down time when you travel. That must be it. And it was relatively rapid reading. Must have been. Oh, and there was a promise of a side story that I was interested in…it was enough to keep me reading even while I shouldn’t. Driving Mr. Albert didn’t drive me to distraction, or even boredom, but I was irritated a bit by the author, Michael Paterniti. I mean the guy writes really well, except this book has nothing to say and can’t decide what it wants to talk about either way.
Essentially, a lost Mr. Paterniti, lonely because his girlfriend is busy writing a book and he’s apparently out of ideas, hooks up with Dr. Thomas Stolz Harvey, the pathologist who is slightly famous because, during the autopsy of Dr. Albert Einstein (That’s Dr., Mr. Paterniti, not Mr. as your title speaks…you’d think he’d notice that.) he removes Einstein’s brain and then, well, takes it home and stores it in a sealed cookie jar and Tupperware. The two drive across America with the brain in the trunk, and Paterniti muses about Einstein, Dr. Harvey, his girlfriend, America, and, well, I don’t know, I couldn’t figure out what the common thread was.
There is some nifty biographical data on Einstein. (There are loads of better books for this.) There’s a nice wacky road-trip motif. (Read Hunter Thompson’s Fear and Loathing… instead.) There’s a strange relationship with Dr. Stolz (Maybe it’s because Paterniti is more scatterbrained than the ethically-challenged octogenarian.) and there’s this hint of a story about finding the right relationship and having it fade away for reasons you can’t understand. Except that story too, the only one I really found all that interesting… (Oh, all right, I’ll admit it: I like romantic comedies, too. There, I’ve said it. Are you happy now?!) Sorry, that story, too, goes nowhere. [Spoiler alert] They work it out in the end. [End spoiler]
Here’s all I think there really is in the book, although it is written really well: There was this guy; he stole Einstein’s brain. He kept it on his mantel. Wow, Einstein’s brain! I mean the significance? Or is there significance? Hmmm. Wow. OK, that’s all you need to know. Yes, it’s crazy that some guy stole Einstein’s brain and kept it for forty years. In the end though, even Einstein’s granddaughter couldn’t see why anyone would care all that much. There, now go read something else instead.
One more thing: In spite of Paterniti’s unwillingness to pass judgment, one thing is sure: the act of stealing the brain was wrong and obviously against the wishes of Einstein himself.
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04.22.06
Posted in Reviews, Travel at 16:15 by RjZ
Robert Heinlein, author of Stranger in a Strange Land (haven’t read it) and Starship Troopers (at least I’ve seen it), is one of the founding fathers of science fiction. I occasionally read science fiction, and this book was sitting on my table waiting for me to return it, so it’s about time I gave it a try.
Space Cadet was first published in 1948 and it shows, but only just barely. Heinlein’s predictions about the future are a bit optimistic at some times and pessimistic others. He predicts widespread planetary space travel by 2075 (and quite a bit would have long occurred, according to the history described). That doesn’t seem likely today. He seems to have missed out on robots and wasn’t able to get past tape for memory and chemical and nuclear propulsion.
What he does do is pack this book, literally about a space cadet (not the colloquial version of that phrase we have today, but rather, a military cadet, in space) with loads of charming detail on life in space. The quick read is mostly a coming-of-age story, and has some interesting ideas that apply to travelers of any kind, whether they make their way to Venus and Mars, or just Europe and India. The process of traveling opens your experience up to things unimaginable to those who’ve remained home.
When young cadet Dodson returns home for leave, his family gives him detailed descriptions of “the marriage chances of several female relatives.” “Everyone asked him to tell about…what it feels like to go out into space. But somehow, they had not actually seemed very interested.” I’ve had this very same experience. (Actually, I haven’t been in space.) I visit my parents, who seem genuinely excited to hear about what I am doing and where I’ve been, but I barely get a chance to tell them before I am interrupted with observations about the house, or the new restaurant and the big breakfasts they serve there.
I understand that feeling of disconnection Dodson feels. Fortunately, I got over it. It’s not a bad thing. Actually, I want to hear about the house. I don’t go places for the sole purpose of telling my parents or anyone else about the trip. People who haven’t been the same places or done the same things as you have are different, for lack of the same experiences. We are the sum of our experiences, and I want to hear about yours as much as tell you about mine. That way, we’ll have plenty to talk about!
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01.12.06
Posted in Reviews at 23:02 by RjZ
In my review of James Frey’s A Million Little Pieces I revealed that I was skeptical of the veracity of his memoir. I wrote that “I’m not sure it’s great writing and I often wonder about the details of the story, but that’s not what interests me about the book.” Good call.
The Smoking Gun can’t seem to corroborate Frey’s description of his criminal arrest in Ohio. It looks like Mr. Frey may have exaggerated the facts in a convoluted version of self-aggrandization. In this case, Mr. Frey’s achievement of recovering, essentially all on his own, from his previous life and his mantra “I am an Alcoholic and I am a drug Addict and I am a Criminal” is certainly minimized if he really wasn’t much of a drug addict and definitely not a “Criminal” with a capital C.
How important is it that this memoir is quite possibly a work of fiction? It does matter because because what makes the book a good read is the excruciating idea that this isn’t a work a fiction. One imagines the reader exclaiming ‘O my, this really happened!’ If he didn’t actually overcome significant obstacles on his road to recovery then even my observations about the book are weakened (and I wondered about the details of the book before the Smoking Gun pointed out the problem.) Fortunately, the most important details of Frey’s life are really his addictions and, so far, these haven’t been called into question.
Most readers will be content that the real value of this book or any is what it made them think and feel while reading it regardless of how it got there. I too am satisfied that what I got from the book and posted about here is still legitimate and interesting, but I am also confident that this book, as a work of fiction would never have been published. It simply doesn’t carry the same weight. As it stands, it’s a harrowing tale of what human beings can do in the face of adversary, self-created and self cured. As a work of fiction, it’s…whiny. All the more so when one considers just how embarrassingly macho Frey describes himself to be. I didn’t like that part of the book when I read it but considered it a peccadillo, not worth repeating. Perhaps the good news is that Frey’s probably a nice guy–the macho nonsense might well be fiction too.
Meanwhile. My postings are all non-fiction. So far. Really. Come on, leave me alone. The blog would be worth reading either way. Wouldn’t it?
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01.03.06
Posted in Liberty, Reviews, Society at 21:54 by RjZ
Diane Ravitch was the assistant secretary in the U.S. Department of Education during George Bush, the senior’s administration and she worked on President Clinton’s program for national testing. During that time she the work uncovered a mystery. How was it possible that there was a wide spread, well established culture of censorship, endorsed by “textbook publishers, testing agencies, professional associations, states and the federal government.” Each party was willingly participating the censorship of every aspect education leaving an unappetizing pap as nourishment for the minds of the children young people of America the United States. The book The Language Police uncovers the mystery behind all this censorship.
Pressure from the left and the right have made it impossible to write or say anything because it will either disadvantage students or offend them. There is little research to support this theory but there is plenty of evidence that what textbook publishers write will offend parents and some academics. Take this example: Ms. Ravitch’s work on the national test yielded a reading comprehension story about Erik Weihenmayer’s climb to the top of Mt. McKinley, the highest peak in North America. “The story described the dangers of hiking up an icy mountain trail, especially for blind person.” The story was rejected because it is “demeaning to applaud a blind person for overcoming daunting obstacles.” The sensitivity panel that rejected this story as biased against people who are blind since blindness should be treated like any other physical attribute such as hair color or height.
But that’s not all. Perhaps even stranger is that the story was rejected due to regional bias. It happens in the mountains. Young people reading this story in Kansas won’t have the advantage that young people from Colorado will because they might never have seen mountains. This would put a bias on the test. In fact, test questions can’t mention anything that might be a regional bias such as deserts, forests, mountains, oceans, farms, cities. Test questions must be completely generic.
This example would be funny if Ms. Ravitch didn’t list dozens and dozens of similar examples throughout the book.
The right attacks concepts and the left attacks vocabulary. The right requires book publishers to remove all references to anything possibly considered immoral. No divorce, homosexuality, devil, witches, spirits, fairies, black magic, fighting, family decay of any kind, or children showing any signs of disobedience. It is assumed that if children see any of these things they will immediately copy this behavior and become divorced homosexuals who fought with their parents over witchcraft. Meanwhile, the left requires complete multi-cultural feminist balance. Women may not be seen raising children (fathers do that) and men may not be seen doing construction work. Boys must be shown spending time combing their hair and girls must play sports with the boys. Old people may not knit or use canes (but they can fix the roof or jog) and all careers and activities must be equally represented by all races, religions and groups (except, of course, homosexuals who may not be represented at all.)
Clearly there is nothing left in the middle. But why do the test makers and publishers put up with this? A few states control the procurement of books and education programs which has eliminated the free market system. The threat of having your new book denied by California or Texas is enough to self-censor your work, irrespective of the fact that it may not teach children anything any more.
I bounced between despair and anger as I read this book desperately hoping Ms. Ravitch would have a solution to this problem. I’ll spoil the story now because it’s important that we hear a way out.
[Spoiler]
What is to be done? According to Ravitch the strategy has three parts: competition, sunshine, and educated teachers. Competition means abolishing the procurement process and unified text book standards in states like California and Texas. These have eliminated competition among book publishers and impoverished choice for teachers and administrators who know their students best.
By sunshine, Ravitch suggests that we bring the censorship process out in the open. Right now parents have no idea that there are bias and sensitivity guidelines for publishers. Worse, the publishers are loath to provide this information to you. Instead we can create ways to expose censorship to public review. The greatest ally of censorship is ignorance. If states and publishers were required to release their guidelines on the internet for everyone to see, these ideas would hardly survive the light of day. At the minimum, grass roots organizations; people like you, me and Ms. Ravitch, can demand these guidelines and publish them on our blogs and talk about them to our friends.
Finally, educated teachers means that teachers of history should actually have taken history classes. Teachers of literature should actually have read the texts they are attempting to teach. It is bad enough that teachers are paid so little in the U.S. but it is pitiful that we allow unqualified individuals who don’t even know a good science book from a bad one to teach our children. We must, of course, trust these teachers who have actually studied their field of choice to have the wisdom to know best how to teach the students in their classes. We must let them select their own text books and format their own classes and in doing so, we might actually attract those teachers who’ve left the system because they’ve given up on their chance to make a difference in the stifling environment where the must simply parrot back what the guidelines say regardless of the feedback they receive in the classroom.
[End Spoiler]
The biggest fallacy of all this censorship is that it has any merit. Removing conflict from stories and showing Native Americans Native American People from test questions doesn’t remove them from television programs and movies. All this constant censorship assures is that books will be so boring that students will never read them and certainly remember nothing from them if they try. By avoiding controversy we teach young people that facts can change to meet their needs and that words have little power to change the world. It is not impossible for us to fight this censorship. We must be confident that children who may not be highly educated yet are not, therefore, unintelligent. Critical thinking, different ideas from competing textbooks and challenging situations in great novels will exercise young brains and build the skills need to think for themselves. Instead of teaching children what to think, it would be more effective to teach them how to think.
Oh, I am sure, if I’d have taken the time I could have sanitized even more of my writing, but even the man-on-the-street average person will get the idea. Right?
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11.28.05
Posted in Reviews at 20:02 by RjZ
James Frey was 23 and he had already been an alcoholic for 10 years and a crack addict for three. His memoir of six weeks in recovery, A Million Little Pieces, tells an unexpected story. In an unusual, clipped and scattered style, without traditional punctuation or chapters, it seems like he’s written down a sentence at a time on tiny slips of paper and assembled them later. The reader gets to pick of the scraps of Frey’s life very quickly and build a picture with increasing clarity as Frey gains that clarity himself. I’m not sure it’s great writing and I often wonder about the details of the story, but that’s not what interests me about the book (even if it is what seems to captured reviewers imaginations.) Frey doesn’t repeat the usual success story of following the 12 steps to recovery because following the 12 steps [also read Wikipedia's entry], for Frey, is about trading one addiction for another.
Instead Frey completely owns his failures and his success. When psychologists at the clinic tell him the chances against him are a million to one if he doesn’t follow the 12 step program which would require him to give up control of his life to a higher power. Frey responds that he’ll take that chance since it’s the only one he has; he cannot believe in a higher power. What will you do if you’re faced with a choice to drink or not drink? I will choose not to, he responds.
I often tell a story about how, when I was younger I was depressed. Not just sad, but what would probably be considered clinically depressed. It’s not a very interesting story so I won’t bore you hear, but I stopped being depressed by suddenly realizing that it was my choice alone and saying “I don’t want to be depressed anymore.” Often when I describe that story it’s not very satisfying to me or the listener. There’s nothing more to it than a statement. Reading Frey’s tale which is many orders of magnitude more overwhelming than my insignificant late teenage depression we still hear the same solution. “I’ll choose not to.” Not very satisfying, perhaps, but if you get it, amazing.
Frey describes with deadpan strength how he has finally decided to live. I try to live this way too, but I am not faced with the choices he is. He is told by the medical examiners that, thanks to the abuse his body has already endured, if he drinks or smokes crack ever again he will likely die. And still he chooses to ignore the advice of those caring for him and face his addictions head on without hiding behind blame, genetics or God.
Skepticality should interview James Frey. The Infidel Guy should interview James Frey. He is living proof that a rational philosophy can succeed in the face of overwhelming challenges. Is it right for everyone? Frey never says so, but with him around I’ve got a lot more justification for my world-view and at least one compelling argument that faith in a higher power is not the only path to salvation.
Apparently, while Frey seems to have come to his solution to addiction on his own, it’s not a new idea. Check out Rational Recovery for more info.
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Posted in Reviews at 17:00 by RjZ
Lewis MacAdams’ claim to coolness is that he’s a well known poet who followed beat poet Gregory Corso around and writes for Rolling Stone and others. In any event, he’s a fine journalist and in Birth of the Cool we get a sweeping history of cool. MacAdams covers Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie; runs through Kerouac and Burroughs; visits Pollack and ends at Andy Warhol. The story moves along one name drop at a time, leaving a story unexpectedly at the mere mention of a new player. It’s the kind of book you memorize so you can be cooler than your cool name-dropping friends at parties.
Actually, though it was kind of cool and one does get a sense that what cool is, is the detachment from what seems important to everyone else mostly because nobody’s listening to you anyway. The book is a history of the not so distant past. Putting all the names of artists, poets, musicians and philosophers in their temporal place is a great way to understand and appreciate what’s cool. It’s worth knowing who’s who and when so we can appreciate them a bit better even if looking at their actions right now we might not think they’re so cool anymore.
I particularly enjoy the story of the first performance of John Cage’s 4′33″. That’s the piece where the peformer sits at a grand piano for four and a half minutes without hitting a key. We can only imagine how confused, amused, angry, interested the audience must have been for this piece the first time it was played. I’ve always enjoyed the idea, but in context of what Cage was thinking about, who he was hanging out with and from whom he was learning, the piece and works from other artists of the time take on a new dimension. It’s less of a wonder why these people are mostly still considered cool.
I was also impressed by how studies of Zen got woven into cool especially in context of the new atomic age and the ensuing cold war. (Cage came up with many pieces and even the length 4′33″ by flipping an I Ching coin.) Zen is cool again these days, maybe because of its unwillingness to be anything easily tracked down so perfectly imitates MacAdams description of cool’s “quicksilver nature.”
In the end, the personalities in the book really do seem pretty cool. Except for Miles Davis, man. Man, he was selling motor-scooters in the eighties. Not cool.
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11.19.05
Posted in Reviews at 18:20 by RjZ
I feel bad for Dr. Dean Hamer, author of The God Gene. He knew he couldn’t win. His academic advisors suggested he wait till he retires to write a book that posits that spirituality might be genetically linked. Early on in the book after explaining what he is not trying to do in his book: “I know from experience that some readers will ignore this caution, so I’ll repeat it for good measure. This book is about whether God genes exist, not about whether there is a God.” But no luck. Clerics and scientists were both up in arms about the book which either supports or detracts from both sides.
So I’ll repeat it for Dr. Hamer too. The God Gene is not about whether there is a God. Just the same I would say that Dr. Hamer is certainly sympathetic to the idea that there is a God although certainly not a an evangelical reading of the Bible. After an exhaustive and frequently rambling discussion of both genetics, memetics and dozens and dozens of stories of religious and spiritual twins Hamer states that “the fact that spirituality has a genetic component implies that it evolved for a purpose.” I am not a geneticist (but I am sure a reader or two of mine can shed some light on this) but Dr. Hamer himself is responsible for a theory that demonstrates that homosexuality is genetic even though clearly homosexuality doesn’t do much to reproduce. Homosexuality is likely linked to another gene that is selected for. You get one characteristic (which is strongly selected for) and sometimes you get the other characteristic. The fact that a characteristic has a genetic component does not imply that it evolved for a purpose. It may just be riding on the back of some other gene. After all, why would men still have nipples anyway?
The book uses many twin studies to compare and contrast spirituality and how it is expressed regardless of the environment the twins find themselves in. Even in my own life I have examples of this to share. Two men I know from Holland are brothers who both joined a catholic order when they were young. Both eventually left the order and while one is a catholic school teacher and the other is an artist today, it’s clear that while they may not be religious (that includes the school teacher) they are both very spiritual. Meanwhile, neither my brother nor I is particularly spiritual even if he does claim to be religious.
I appreciated Dr. Hamer’s abiding desire to keep treatise in the realm of science. He specifically defines each of his terms. For example he discusses spirituality instead of religion because there is a popular and quantifiable test for spirituality but not for religiosity. He discusses his research along with others and mentions both sides of nearly every claim. Unfortunately all this balance leads to an occasionally confusing book which comes out on the side that there is a gene that is correlated with spirituality and then investigates the ramifications of this gene from so many sides as to leave the reader bewildered. It’s a frustrating book for religious individuals who will surely see a threat in the idea that spirituality might be a result of brain chemicals and it is a frustrating book for scientists who read an extremely interesting idea that doesn’t really seem completely backed up, tested for, explained or, well clear what it means anyway.
Actually, I am just complaining because the book was unsatisfying to me! Here was my chance to finally understand just why I am simply devoid of spirituality. It’s not that I don’t believe in organized religion or ghosts or an afterlife, it’s that I can’t even conceive of why one should. I don’t feel like there is anything missing or what possible benefit these thoughts would give me and I’d hoped that eventually the book would discuss the contra case to what happens when we have a strongly expressed God gene. What happens when we seem to be lacking the gene altogether. No such luck.
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10.31.05
Posted in Reviews at 19:46 by RjZ
I just completed River Teeth by David James Duncan. It’s a collection of short stories, fictional and non-fictional which really ought to be called a collection of free verse poetry because, regardless of whether you relate to what Duncan writes about or not, you can’t help but be enamored with his beautiful prose.
I’m no fisherman, which is a constant theme for this Pacific Northwest writer well rooted next to the rivers of his home but his tales of rivers and the people who, like him, are bonded to them are well worth reading. In addition to being a fisherman, Duncan is a apparently Buddhist but in a way I too aspire to be. He doesn’t tell you what it means to see the world the way approximately 6% of the world sees it instead he shows you his or his characters actions and leaves you to see if it makes sense. His poetic writing makes the transformations that his characters face that much more compelling.
That link to adherents.com above also makes me want to point out that there are more atheists than Buddhists, or Jews or Scientologists for that matter. Just thought I’d point it out.
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10.08.05
Posted in Reviews at 22:54 by RjZ
I’ve added a new category on the right for books I’ve recently read. Not because you care what books I’ve read or because I think it will impress you. Indeed, I think this might be one of the more embarrassing parts of this blog. If there was any doubt about my intellectual level, it’s quite possible that my selection of books that I read to entertain myself will surely confirm it.
I read books mostly because they’re handed to me by a friend. I don’t really choose them except that I start many more than I finish. A book ought to find it’s way on to this list only if I’ve finished it. And this also means that it might be even more embarrassing because this means I’ve stuck through whatever you see listed there for every page so it’s likely light reading. There are several books which I am sure are very good, but I just don’t seem to be able to get through them.
For the moment though, I’m reasonably satisfied with the list. Particularly The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time which I enjoyed immensely, recommend highly, and finished in two days like those young people who are devouring the latest Harry Potter. I won’t describe the book any further though because that would take the fun out of it.
Books are distinguished these days from other kinds of entertainment simply because of the time they take. Even if you know exactly what is going to happen you are teased and excited to find out the details, and no matter how fast you read, it’s likely still several hours before you’ll know everything. A review of The Curious Incident would almost assuredly spoil at least a few of those little rewards and I’d hate to take that away from anyone who takes my recommendation.
Books are a little like making love with someone you really care about. The slow revealing of the story yields a pleasure greater than the quick release of a movie and it makes the effort so much more worthwhile.
I think I better start reading more. Any suggestions?
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