Christopher Rush
Hello, friends. Twenty-five issues. Where’d they go? Twenty-five issues. I don’t know. I sit and I wonder sometimes where they’ve gone. Appropriately enough, as of this writing, we are a few scant months away from my twentieth high school reunion, so those reflective thoughts have been and will continue to be quite prominent in my head. But, hey, we aren’t here to talk about me … well, we are, but let’s try to keep it positive. As you already know, a significant portion of my summer was taken up with Beach Boys and Beatles material, at least the first half of the summer. About mid-July, I hit the proverbial wall and found myself taking notes on the first time the Beatles heard Elvis songs and minutiae like that and it dawned upon me … I’m preparing too much for this class. I was doing Mark Lewisohn-level work, and I’m not ready to write the definitive work on the Beach Boys and the Beatles — I just wanted to teach a course about appreciating and understanding their music and the times. Thus, after about eight intensive weeks, I just stopped, focused on other things, read different books, played some games, and relaxed quite a bit more. (I also took a nonsensical on-line course about Graphic Novels in the Classroom to renew my teaching license, since higher education is all a scam, but I’d rather not talk about that now.)
As is our custom, here are some brief and most-likely unhelpful book reviews about most of the books I read from late spring up until the beginning of this current school year. Shortly after I curtailed my Beach Boys/Beatles preparation, I realized I hadn’t read any Nero Wolfe books all summer and repaired that nonsense toot suite (and found myself on a bit of a mystery kick for a while). Enjoy, friends.
Simple and Direct: A Rhetoric for Writers, Jacques Barzun
I feel somewhat abashed giving a book by the superb Jacques Barzun only two stars, but according to the authoritative site Goodreads (or “goodreads” as it wants to be known on its own page), two stars equates to “it was okay,” and since Simple and Direct was okay, two stars it gets. I’m not really sure what the ultimate function of this book is: surely it’s not a textbook for classroom use, as entire hordes of young people posing as students collectively work through revising sentences with diction they’ve never heard (perhaps the original audience was familiar with his language, but none today); I certainly did not feel impelled to work through the exercises on paper — I was fine thinking through them while reading them. Toward the end Mr. Barzun gives us an extended survey of punctuation, but inscrutably he defines colons in contradistinction to his own usage throughout the book.
Not to harp on its deficiencies, but organization, another facet of writing upon which Mr. Barzun attempts to instruct us, is almost wholly useless in this work. True, it has distinct chapter headings covering divers aspects of writing, helpful enough, but beyond that … utter chaos. Mr. Barzun traipses merrily from sub-point to sub-point, devoid of meaningful connection or reference-work ease of finding/accessibility/utility. Mr. Barzun gives us wonderfully trenchant tips on diction, tone, style, revision … while you’re reading through the book. Aside from a virtually meaningless index, we have no realistic way of using this book as a reference tool for attacking individual writing errors.
So read it … once. Try to absorb as much as you can. Perhaps copy out the twenty basic rules for writing Mr. Barzun scatters throughout his pages for general guidelines of decent writing. Then … give it to someone else. I doubt you’re going to want to keep it for multiple uses.
Asking the Right Questions: A Guide to Critical Thinking, M. Neil Browne and Stuart M. Keeley
Well … that was rubbish. Not only is this full of biases and horribly inappropriate “practice exercises” (many of which deal with various forms of human perversion), but also it is laboriously redundant and ultimately a gigantic waste of time. Basically, Biff Tannen will crash into a truckload of this book in Back to the Future, pt. 4. Several years ago, without reading it, I snagglepussed their list of “the right questions” for a class handout on critical thinking, supplementing the list with better context and purposes and kept telling myself I would read the whole book some time and find out how I can make that handout better. Now I know: I can eliminate their list of “the right questions” and make up my own questions and completely eliminate all trace of this product from my classroom.
For these “authors,” the two-fold purpose of “Critical Thinking” is a) to know for whom to vote and b) to know how to respond to advertisements. That is all. I’m not making this up; the book says that’s why we need “critical thinking.” Not for “how to become a worthwhile person,” not for “how to make the world around us a better place or the people around us better people,” not “to pursue truth and beauty and other affirming absolutes.” No, just to know the right candidate (and it takes about four pages into the book to find out what political party the “authors” think is right) and how to say no to all advertisements (as if we didn’t all know that by the age of 12 anyway). Yes, in the concluding fake final chapter reside some insincere “well, we’re all in this together, so be sure to use your critical thinking skills to help others out” stuff, but we can all be fairly certain someone’s grandfather who signed the paychecks way back in the 2nd edition days (back in the ’90s, when all smart people knew Islam had run its course) required this and now it’s just left over because it sounds all warm and sincere (or so they “think”).
Now, not much wrong exists with the actual “right questions” themselves, yet the need for entire chapter-like things explaining them does not exist at all. This could have worked much better without the “practice examples,” the nonsensical repetition, and everything but the final “why is this question important” box. One easy indicator of how much piffle suffuses this work is the fact the creators decided to highlight the important notices by both demarcating the essential points with thick grey borders flanking the significant paragraphs and beginning said paragraphs with the emboldened world “Attention.” One would suppose only one of these devices would be necessary to indicate the distinctively special nature of the material, but the authors chose both. And then they repeat themselves a lot. Thus, this would have been quite fine as a three-page pamphlet. Alas, the authors decided the route of horridly overpriced textbook instead of concise, useful pamphlet. Alas.
One could also mention the repletion of contradictions throughout: after redundantly explaining how important the “right question” under evaluation in each individual chapter is, the authors will often prepare you for the conclusion of the chapter (and the wretchedly off-putting practical examples) with “yes, but, sometimes it’s not like that, so do your best to make sure when the right time to ask this right question is right.”
One final concern about this (aside from the concern about their comments to the effect “emotions should never play a role in any decision”): the authors adamantly warn us against thinking in dichotomies. On the surface, of course, this sounds like good advice. Who can fault Pink Floyd for enjoining us against thinking in terms of “us and them”? The concern rests, though, in their outlandish declaration “never think in terms of right and wrong.” Because this is a dichotomy, it must be the wrong (irrational) way of making decisions and viewing the world. Everything that is good must have more than two options. And on and on. I’d say it’s rubbish, but that would be an insult to banana peels, cockroach husks, and last month’s Wheat Thins, and I don’t want to insult them.
Don’t waste your time. It’s a short work, but life’s too short for this work.
A Crown of Swords (The Wheel of Time #7), Robert Jordan
While this follows the same pattern (if you’ll allow the expression) of the last couple of entries in this series, a good number of positive advancements occur (mostly toward the end, of course) in characterizations and overall storyline. One gets the impression this is “the rest” of Lord of Chaos, picking up right after it (unlike the earlier entries that often pick up a couple of months later). Either that, or we have advanced enough along in the story timeline we can expect the rest of the series is just going to be a continuous account of what is going on in “real time” (in a way). Back to the pattern: a lengthy dealing with the aftermath of the last entry’s climactic explosion, extended time with the Nynaeve/Elayne/Matt and Perrin sidequests, increasingly more menacing time with the Forsaken, a humorous look at what the White Tower is up to, decreasing time with the Aiel, and brief adventure with people we forgot were mentioned two novels ago but now suddenly give us the impression they are going to become B-list or even A-list stars of the series, and then another slam-bang finish in which Rand fights another Forsaken and conquers yet another territory. It may seem redundant, but it isn’t: the familiar weavings of the Pattern is obviously a fundamental aspect of this series, and by this time the basic format enables unforeseen and refreshing variety for us readers even within the expectations.
Halfway through the series, (and more words halfway through than A Song of Ice and Fire will be when it is finished sometime this century…? maybe?) we finally get some things we’ve been waiting for since basically the end of book one: Nynaeve finally gets her act together, Elayne and Egwene start getting their acts together, Rand gets some more of his act together, some good things actually happen to our heroes (for once), and bad things happen to the bad guys (sort of — they also gain more victories, but that’s fine). Is that spoiler-free enough for you?
Because so many positive things happen (though they don’t come pain-free, of course), some of the chapters in the final third of the book are among the most enjoyable of the series so far (and I’m pretty sure that’s not because it’s freshest in my memory): The First Cup, Mashiara (especially), Sealed to the Flame, Ta’veren … you read these and you think “finally, people are listening to our heroes! Let them get done what they need to get done!” It’s a very reaffirming feeling, and it’s not “unrealistic.”
It was a good book — maybe not as “fun” as The Dragon Reborn, but it was a very fast-moving book that felt like it was giving us things we’ve been wanting for a while and propelling us in a new direction (even if it will keep following the pattern). Yes, it has that ambiguous part in the middle with Queen Morgase that may be one thing or may be another, but I’m sure that will be worked through soon enough. Yes, it does have the Seanchan again, which is a) very frustrating (aren’t things bad enough with the Dark One and the Forsaken and the Black Ajah?), b) super impressive how Mr. Jordan would think to add that layer, and c) another big sign things are going to get even crazier in the books ahead (especially now we are in the second-half of the saga). But this was a good one, especially impressive after the major changes and excitement of that last entry — it’s just getting better and better. (And it’s better than ASoIaF … boom.)
Miss Lonelyhearts / The Day of the Locust, Nathanael West
These really weren’t that good. They come across as the angry contributions of an intelligent man who doesn’t want any supernatural to exist, and because no supernatural exists (because he wants no supernatural to exist), he’s angry about how boring and meaningless life is but it’s God’s fault for not existing. Something like that. I admit it’s been a few months since I read Miss Lonelyhearts, which was the main reason I picked this up (the book not the time), but I was not favorably impressed. Clearly I’m wrong, since other people like it, and anger=greatness, but there it sits. Instead of dealing meaningfully with love and faith and human experiences, Miss Lonelyhearts just swaggers around grumbling and assuming and then just stops. It is Modernist, after all.
The Day of the Locust, likewise, gives us that same Modernist not caring attitude about how life really is, just glancing around at the bleakness and discontent and assuming this is how it always has been, always is, always will be, and God doesn’t exist and is to blame for not existing and how banal everything is, and it just stops. Nathanael West would have vilified Brian Wilson for portraying Southern California as a wonderful place of sunshine and happiness. But you know what? I’d rather listen to Brian Wilson than read more Nathanael West. Go on, tell me how wrong I am.
The World of Robert Jordan’s The Wheel of Time, Teresa Patterson
I believe this was the first Wheel of Time book I owned, or close to it at any rate. I remember years ago leafing through it agog, thinking how could I ever possibly become familiar with all of these races and nationalities and conflicts … and then years later after finally reading books 1-7, most of it was easy reminders. Considering the clever viewpoint of the material, long before GRRM started doing basically the same thing (not this particular volume, but in general), the absence of the very things we want to know (the Creator, True Source, Age of Legends) may be disappointing, but there’s enough gathered tidbits to whet our appetites for the second half of the series (not that we needed more).
I know a few people have derided the artwork for the last twenty years or so, but considering the horrible conditions under which the artist was given to work by the publisher, I have no problem with it. My only wish concerning the art is I wish we had visuals accompanying the dress of the various military in the last few chapters especially. The descriptions are good, indeed, but visuals would abet those sections very well. The included visuals of our heroes don’t really match what they look like in my head as I’m reading, but that’s fine.
I’m glad I finally got to this book — it feels very strange having carried this around several moves cross-country and through major life changes (college, marriage, children), and now I’ve read it. Enough about me: obviously, this book is not for you if you haven’t read Wheel of Time books 1-7. You should really just read it when you’ve read them. But, if you have read them, you won’t get a whole lot of new information here, though the scant sections on the Forsaken, the Age of Legends, and a few things here and there are worthwhile (especially if you don’t pay cover price for it). It did help clarify a few things (like how Lews Therin is really “the Dragon,” not a Dragon reborn — he was the first Dragon, making Rand really the only “Dragon Reborn,” in the entire history of however many times the Wheel has turned, and how Artur Hawking was not a reborn Dragon himself just a good ruler hundreds of years after Lews Therin), and for that it was worthwhile for me. Plus a life marker reached. On the whole, satisfactory.
The Vindication of Tradition: The 1983 Jefferson Lecture in the Humanities, Jaroslav Pelikan
Ah, it was nice to read intellectual discourse again (it had been a while, especially concerning nonfiction). I don’t mind name dropping, but I have Robert Duncan Culver’s copy (he parted with it willingly), replete with his own comments and asides, making it a nifty bonus-filled read for me (and whoever gets it after I shuffle off). As you likely know, Mr. Pelikan is pretty top notch about things, and his insights and enjoinments and adjurations make a good deal of sense throughout his four mostly connected lectures/essays. I wish it were longer, actually. He does a fine job contextualizing all sides of the Tradition issue, including the atheists who think it’s all rubbish, even pointing out how those who continue to follow Emerson’s call for rejecting tradition are guilty of following a tradition. It’s full of spectacular lines, none of which will be quoted here because it’s all the way upstairs and I’m down here. Track this down. It’s really good. Of course, if you are one of those Emersonians, you’ll probably not like it because it will point out how wrong you are, yet it will do so intelligently and respectfully — something you may not be used to from people who disagree with you and write things (post things) today.
And Four to Go, Rex Stout
When you get to the end of summer and realize you haven’t read any Nero Wolfe all year yet, it’s way past time to get on that. This is another trim, clean, crisp group of Nero Wolfe adventures mostly though ancillarily pertaining to holidays. “Christmas Party” is a surprising revelation to what lengths Nero Wolfe will go to keep Archie Goodwin in his employ (and single). “Easter Parade” is a very clever mystery about ancient machines known as photographometers (I believe), fantastickal boxes of antiquity that were used to visually capture a moment of time without also letting you order pizza. This, too, has a surprising revelation concerning to what lengths Wolfe will go to acquiring rare orchids, including asking Archie to steal them!
“Fourth of July Picnic” is also bizarre, but not in a bad way — whenever Wolfe is out of the house the story feels unsettled. Wolfe is on deck to give a speech about the restaurant world and, of course, a murder is discovered during his speech. The problem is an eyewitness can testify no one went into the room of the murder except Archie and Wolfe! Another unique aspect of this mystery (though a bit of a theme for this collection) is motive for murder is almost a nonfactor in the crime solving. Archie and Wolfe spend almost no time on “why” the murder, just “who.” “Murder is No Joke” is another very clever mystery with an obvious set-up: a painfully obvious ruse to befuddle Wolfe at the very beginning, but soon that ruse takes on new twists and nothing is quite so obvious anymore.
Top notch collection. Strangely, as readers, we are torn between wanting to spend time with Archie and Wolfe and the rest but wanting short, concise stories we can inhale and enjoy quickly. This collection with four very short yet rich stories balances that tension perfectly: short, quick stories, but four instead of the usual three. “Satisfactory.”
Champagne for One, Rex Stout
Another enjoyable Nero Wolfe adventure, once again Archie gets into some shenanigans and drags Wolfe into it against his will. While this sounds like Archie’s job description in general, this time Archie is present at the death of a young woman and believes it’s murder … even though everyone else at the event says it’s suicide, the cops believe it’s suicide, and no proof for murder seems to exist other than Archie’s instincts. For us, for Wolfe, for Fritz, this is enough. Of course that’s tough for Cramer to swallow, and even more difficult for the Police Commissioner to swallow, who has a surprising and secret offer to make to the brownstone residents! Fans of the Hutton/Chaykin series will recognize this as an early episode, and the show is rather faithful to this novel, leaving out only a few brief scenes that only confirm a few things for the detectives — but even with the familiarity from a faithful adaptation, the original story is neither stale nor dull. It almost drags a bit toward the middle as many Wolfe novels potentially do, but this one does not lag noticeably. One helpful aspect of the book is its more lucid expression of the connection between the instigator of the mess and the perpetrator of the mess, which was slightly glossed over in the episode. It’s still brief here, but combining both makes the entity of Champagne for One feel enjoyably complete.
Plot it Yourself, Rex Stout
My wife and I listened to this during a long car trip years ago, so moments of it felt vaguely familiar, but I could not remember any of the important things. It’s nothing to brag about, considering it isn’t a very long novel, but I read this in one day; I say that not to brag but to emphasize how gripping it is, especially after the first shocking twist about 24% into the novel. It starts out rather dry, admittedly, and even Wolfe is bored by what is being offered him at the beginning, but once it kicks in it really moves and grips. This is chock full of twists and surprises and even shocking moments. The gang is all here: Cramer, Stebbins, Saul, Fred, Orrie, Fritz, even Dol Bonner and Sally Corbett. This may rank as among the best Wolfe stories, and that’s saying quite a bit, I think.
To Catch a Spy, Chris Scott
This is two books in one, akin to Moby-Dick and Les Misérables, but whereas Moby-Dick is about 50-50 philosophical whaling guide/novel, To Catch a Spy is 75-25 philosophical inquiry/spy novel. Mr. Scott strikes you immediately as one who feels very strongly about knowing words and is compelled to impress you with them. He namedrops most of the Beatles/Beach Boys’ spiritual mentors early on, proliferates the book with antique literary references, and just generally makes the book difficult to read. I’m by no means a skilled, quality reader, so maybe it’s just me and my infacility with language and words and things. And stuffs and items. We are bombarded with several names and codenames at the beginning of the book, so much so one will have great difficulty remembering who is whom throughout, even perhaps until after the book is over, and while that is part of the spy atmosphere, it doesn’t make for an enjoyable reading experience of a spy atmosphere, for most of the book.
Much of this work, as I said, is a psychological treatment on the good ol’ spy game back in the glory days of the Cold War, when men were men and Bruce was Scarecrow and Pierce was Remington and life was good. Aside from all the horrible things that were going on at the time, of course. But the Spy Game was a Gentleman’s Game back in the day, when agents and double agents and triple agents all seemed to know each other and hang out at all the old familiar places. Or did they…
We are treated to the mentality of the different players in this game: what it’s like to investigate why an agent switches allegiances, what it’s like to be a high-level strategist who concocts plots and counterplots, what it’s like to be a Russian puppetmaster/tightrope walker standing in the gap between trust and betrayal, and what it’s like to be a tool-turned-tool user. Or are we…
Suddenly, all the psychological underpinnings are swept away and we are LeCarréd away into a breakneck spy catching thriller … but which spy are we catching? And which do we want to catch? The last few pages have a significant number of twists and countertwists jam-packed and slam-banged together, which may “salvage” the book for some who thought it would be more Ian Fleming-like than John LeCarré-ish. I found it rough going for awhile, but the ending “made up” for it (though I won’t be keeping it and reading it again in my life).
Whose Body?, Dorothy L. Sayers
While it is likely this book suffers from the typical “first entry verbosity,” Ms. Sayers has deftly created a new kind of sleuth, though one that is eminently aware of his place in the history of British detectives. New readers to the series may be surprised (as I was) just how frequently Mr. Holmes’s name was mentioned. Christians that have been given the impression Ms. Sayers is a Christian author will similarly be surprised at the frequency of the, shall we say, “d-word” as used by our “hero,” yet Ms. Sayers never gives attentive readers the impression Lord Peter Whimsey is a Christian. Interestingly enough, it is his policeman chum Parker who is fond of reading Biblical commentaries.
The mystery itself is mildly intriguing, but as I said above as the first mystery novel by Ms. Sayers (as far as I know), we can easily ignore the unnecessarily lengthy bits in hopes she will hone her craft soon enough. This adventure does have one very compelling moment toward the end, however: our hero has willfully if impetuously put himself in the clutches of the fiendish murderer (primarily to ascertain if his heroic deductions are correct, we suppose), placidly allowing himself to be destroyed … until Whimsey’s hand grabs the villain’s in a “vice-like” grip, followed by one of the most intense tacit stare-downs in literature. All in all a fine beginning to the series, especially as one acclimated to Ms. Sayers’s style.
Clouds of Witness, Dorothy L. Sayers
Surprisingly more tedious than the first Whimsey adventure, Clouds of Witness treads territory most series do not tread until much later: family misadventure (thus two surprises in one sentence). Having been introduced to the strengths and some failings of our new hero in the first entry (as is typical for new mystery series), our knowledge of Lord Peter and his policeman chum Parker is expanded by more encounters with the rest of the current Whimsey clan, as Peter’s stoically uninteresting brother is preposterously accused of murder, primarily (if unintentionally) by their own sister! And while this should make for a riveting and fresh perspective on our hero and his world, mostly what we learn is how right the ’70s punk rock scene was in vilifying British peerage (no offense to the truly noble nobles out there). The whole system, especially its self-satisfied legal system, is perfectly exemplified by George Whimsey, and we have an immediate and deep-seated understanding and respect for why Lord Peter only associates with that bunch when he has to.
While this case is distinct enough from the first, despite both being murder cases, the speed of the novel slows down tremendously with a preponderance of clues, lengthy dialectic engaged with those clues, immediate rejection of everything that was just bandied about by a new revelation at the commencement of a new chapter followed by a lengthy (and spurious) account of whereabouts and actions likewise immediately refuted at the dawn of the following chapter, supplemented with a bevy of new clues, surprising new witnesses, and lengthy discussions about them all. And while I acknowledge that is usually how most mystery novels go, this one goes on in “figuring out whodunnit and howdunnit” stage a trifle too long (possible six trifle’s worth). Not that this is bad, mind you, and Ms. Sayers does concoct some interesting twists, but readers should be aware we are not in the “concised” phase of the Whimsey canon yet (if indeed such a thing exists … I’ll keep you posted).
The Liberal Arts: A Student’s Guide, Gene C. Fant Jr.
As the Dull Train plods into Dull Station, we close our uneventful ho-hum. Please exit lugubriously and be on your way.
I don’t want to sound harsh, but that’s basically this book. I was very interested in this series, but this was not the ideal place to start. Perhaps it’s me: maybe I’m at that point at which I don’t need yet another “initial student’s guide,” of which this certainly is one of. Not only is it very much a beginning guide (one hopes it’s not truly aimed at college students … junior high kids, maybe), it deceptively has virtually nothing to do with the Liberal Arts. I was hoping for an engaging overview and interaction with the classical Liberal Arts, somewhere around seven in number I believe, but this little-yet-overlong pamphlet does not truly engage with them. Mr. Fant, Jr. spends some time dabbling with Science and Language Arts and how they can be neat-o, and he does give some attention to God and Stuff like that and how Thinking and Work and Bible-thing-items can be beneficial to one’s thoughtlife, but none of that is really what anyone reading the title wants from what the title advertises. Typically, and especially disappointingly, it ends with a peevish and irritating lament of Mr. Fant, Jr.’s own personal educational background experiences, its ups and downs, its Liberal Artsiness and its Non-Liberal Artsiness, effectively albeit inadvertently confirming for us he really doesn’t have much of a grasp of what the Liberal Arts are (seems like it’s some cloud-like “thinking about what you read” pastime), and neither will you if you read this book. Surely better intro. guides for the actual Liberal Arts exist.
1000 Songs that Rock Your World: From Rock Classics to one-Hit Wonders, the Music That Lights Your Fire, Dave Thompson
Let us try to disassociate the concept of “this book” with “the list of songs” concerning which “this book” purportedly exists. First, “this book.”
This book is pretty much shash. One gets the impression the photographs had been laid out meticulously, the categories of songs and song selections had been worked out over a good long week or so, and then with approximately four minutes remaining before sending the master proofs over to the printer, someone snapped his or her fingers and said, “hey, shouldn’t we say something about all the songs?” And four minutes later we had a slew of “This song really rocks even today,” and “A great song that makes your heart break … but does it?” and “Can feeling bad really feel so good?” and while those are not direct quotations, you’ve basically got a sufficient synopsis of the content of “this book.” I admit it does have a small mattering of historical surveys of famous musicians and songs and such, but none of the extended stories are worthwhile. Most of them end up with a “gotcha” attitude, as if we are the jerks for thinking this book was about to take something seriously for once (and we are, especially if you are late in the book and still thinking the people who made this book know anything or care anything about music).
The overall structure is likewise confusing: it begins with a treatment of presumably Mr. Thompson’s Top 5 of the 1000, but after that we are treated to topical surveys of the songs with no notion of what number the song is in the 1000 or why. We are given no explanation for why “Telephone Line” is 1000, “With or Without You” is not on the list, or even why “I’m Not in Love” is considered a good song (presumably because it took a long time to make in the studio). Perhaps the book is not primarily about the ranking and why, but it begins with the ranking, explains the top 5, gives us a few famous people’s “top 5”s, and gives us no real explanation of why the shift in treating the songs topically or why these songs “rock our world” and not others.
Sometimes this book has “in their own words” for the brief descriptions of the song, but most of those are along the effect of “yeah, we play that song a lot on our tours, and we didn’t know it was going to be a hit when we wrote it!” — nothing that adds to our understanding or appreciation of the song, really. Strangely, sometimes the song will feature purported direct quotations from the singer/band/writer without calling it “in their own words.” Punctuation errors, spelling errors, discontinuity between the song and the photo of an album by that band abound throughout … hasty, poorly edited, slapdash work, filled to the brim with utterly unhelpful words.
Now, “the list of songs.” We know going in it will be a uselessly subjective ranking, and the fact “Bus Stop” is supposedly the best song of all time proves from the very beginning this fellow need not be heeded about anything music-related. Unfortunately, as intimated above, he (or whatever typewriter-trained troupe of marmosets he had writing copy for the other 995 songs) persistently proves it for another 200+ pages. I have nothing against “Bus Stop,” but as the best song of all time? Tish and pish. “With or Without You” is not my favorite U2 song, either, but not even in the top 1000? But Garbage is? and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds? And almost no Genesis, no Collective Soul, a whole lot of radio hits, almost no Beach Boys, and I could go on and on. I know, it’s all subjective. I had too much hope for objectivity with this. It has none. But most of us don’t when it comes to this sort of thing.
Sure, it has perhaps a handful of interesting tidbits from James Taylor and ELO and a few other things you’ll learn, and some of the posters from back in the day are historically interesting if not envy-inducing (you could have seen them and them and them! for $5!?!? sort of thing). But is the entire journey worth it? I don’t think so. But if you are interested in what the list is, send me an e-mail and I’ll send it to you. I’m still working through it, and while it has led me to some interesting songs I’ve never heard (of) before, which is a positive, it’s also proving I have not missed out on too much already either. Thus, it’s a mixed bag. I can recommend “this list” for comparison and thought-provoking discussion, but not “this book” for those purposes.
Armoured Onslaught: 8th August 1918 (Battle Book No. 25), Douglas Orgill
(Note: These next two books are from a fantastic yet criminally out of print series the Ballantine’s Illustrated History of the Violent Century. Don’t be put off by the title — the 20th century was rather violent and we need to understand it, Also, the “illustrations” are mostly historic photographs you can’t see anywhere else. If you ever see any book in these series buy it.)
This was a very enjoyable book. One might suspect that is simple praise considering how predisposed I admit I am toward this Ballantine series, but my predilection for this series works against potential poor entries in it. I say “potential” because I haven’t read one disappointing entry yet. I usually enjoy (so to speak) well-told stories about World War I, and this facet of the development of tank warfare was one facet I wasn’t so familiar with, as most of my WW1 reading has been broad whole-war surveys (plus Ms. Tuchman’s The Zimmerman Telegram). I appreciated Mr. Orgill’s treatment of the diverse attitudes to the tank coupled with his generous portrayal of the technical aspects of the tank’s development. It would be easy for lesser writers to be tendentious about the technical aspects or overwhelm the audience with specifications and minutiae, but Mr. Orgill does neither. His tone is inviting and educational and engaging even when explaining the data of the generations of tanks.
I found the reticence for the tank quite interesting, both from the Allied side and the Central Powers side. The general failure of Allied tanks at Cambrai due both to cool-headed Germans with tantamount anti-tank guns and the failure of the construction of early tanks could have easily been the end of tanks for decades if not longer … but a very few visionaries saw the potential of the tank, even as the nature of WW1 itself demanded so much revision of “musket and pike”-era warfare strategy. Perhaps my favorite part was the line about how so few leaders understood just how different WW1 was from everything they were used to in war, especially the traditional cavalry. Gone were the days of outflanking your opponent with clever cavalry charges and scouting — with trench warfare, there were no flanks anymore. It is such a momentous notion in a few words: the world has changed significantly and fully. Technology is not a neutral thing. This was an enjoyable, educational book.
Japanese High Seas Fleet (Weapons Book No. 33), Richard Humble
Surprising myself quite a bit, I may have enjoyed this book even more than the Ballantine book on tank warfare in World War 1. What’s so surprising about that is I had (and still have) virtually no interest in naval or air combat. I certainly don’t mean to offend anyone in the Navy or Air Force — I sincerely thank you for your service. For some inexplicable reason, conflict simulation games about naval or aircraft combat just do not interest me in any way. It’s not because I have had bad Battleship! experiences or anything like that. I have owned Midway and Luftwaffe and a few other games of their ilk, but none of them appealed to me. I say again I can’t explain it. I have no desire to play X-Wing or Armada or Wings of Glory. Strangely enough, I had many enjoyable hours playing TIE Fighter and Wing Commander II back in the day — they did not spoil my appetite for the genre either.
For whatever reason(s), naval and air combat just don’t interest me … but this book was engaging, interesting, informative, well-written (even for a 28-year-old kid) and I plowed through it. I suspect part of my interest came from its Japanese-centric perspective (coming, I understand, from a European Caucasian’s research/analysis/synthesis framework) — you don’t get that too often, at least, I haven’t. Mr. Humble gave what appeared to me (and I less humbly consider myself a fairly attentive and sensitive reader to that sort of thing) a balanced and respectful treatment of the positive and negative aspects of the development of the Japanese navy from the beginning of the 20th century to the end of WW2, within the limitations of the series, of course.
Especially interesting was the seemingly universal problem of “Decision Makers in Charge” not listening to the wise counsel of actually knowledgeable, competent people, such as Yamamoto — why would high command not listen to him? Mr. Humble answers that question well, of course, but those of who feel like they are in similar situations are still boggled and bamboozled by it.
The only thing preventing me from giving this five stars is it ended too abruptly for me. I wish it had a few more pages (or even paragraphs) of conclusion — what lessons should be learned? what syntheses can we create from this history? Now, please don’t interpret that as “I can’t you do that for myself” … oh, I could. My point is I wish Mr. Humble had done it, because his writing and treatment of the subject was so riveting I wanted to know more from him based on all the reading and research and work he put into it and couldn’t necessarily say because of the limitations of the series design — the work just somewhat abruptly stops. I wanted a fuller, longer conclusion to the entire journey. If it had that, I would be willing to give this five stars, something I don’t give too often (keeper of the stars as I am). This was great. (I still don’t have any desire to play naval or air wargames, but I really liked this book.)
Docilitas: On Teaching and Being Taught, James V. Schall
It pains me deeply to give something by the great Father Schall a mere three stars, but the presentation of this o’erhasty, slipshod, ramshackle of a haphazard collection knocks it down at least one star. If St. Augustine’s Press has an editorial staff, either this book was compiled while they were on a Department Retreat or they need to have a stern talking to (far be it from me to advocate anyone getting fired, but the editorial, proofreading, transcribing work here was atrocious).
The other sort of drawback of this collection, and it truly perplexes me to discuss any “drawback” with a collection of Father Schall, is how similar many of the entries are. I understand that is mainly the point, and I certainly don’t begrudge Father Schall for revisiting his favorite (and indeed worthwhile) themes in divers publications over the years, but to have so many so propinquitous in subject matter presented in a bemusingly “book-like” presentation feels like we are somehow being gulled. The occasional notion these discrete essays are now chapters in a cohesive (but not truly) book is also jarring at times.
But let’s get down to it. This is a collection of essays, however similar, of one of the great thinkers of our day, Father James V. Schall. Any chance we have to read some of this thoughts, to be refreshed by his decades’ worth of reading and reflection, to be reminded to read the things he has read, well, we are in for a good time. There’s not too much on “teaching,” per se, but there is a fair amount on “being taught,” and being taught by James Schall, even if, as he would be the first to admit, he is “merely” repeating the words of Plato, Augustine, Aquinas, Johnson, and Schultz, is as worthwhile an experience as this life affords.
Iron First Epic Collection: The Fury of Iron Fist, Chris Claremont, John Byrne, Larry Hama, Roy Thomas, et al.
I wonder if Mr. Claremont’s contract back in the day had a “paid by the word” clause to it. But I kid Mr. Claremont: he saved the X-Men and we can all be grateful for his and Mr. Byrne’s tremendous run on that and New Mutants and many others. Even so, Mr. Claremont radically changes the nature of Iron Fist as a character. He begins as a very somber, almost mute character solely focused on his actions and motivations as a serious student of martial arts. Mr. Claremont takes all that away, giving us a very loquacious thinker and talker. Some will like that, some will not, especially as a good deal of it is reminiscent of early ’60s Stan Lee scripting (i.e., “let me say/think the actions you can see me doing with the accompanying pictures!”). But that doesn’t matter, since it all happened forty years ago.
What starts out as a tale of vengeance quickly turns into a tale of self-discovery: Danny Rand now has to live a “real” life away from the home he has known for most of his mature life, and along the way he gathers some allies and foes, and while all of that is the making of a pretty interesting series, when Mr. Claremont takes the reins, the initial creativity of villains and martial arts conflicts effectively goes out the window. He does an interesting job continuing some of the ideas of the early pre-Claremont stories, but the short-lived nature of the series once Iron Fist gets his own series also sees a few rather important storylines/conflicts disappear into thin air. Fortunately, some other big stories are wrapped-up in Marvel Team-Up issues included in this collection, but one wonders what could have been had Iron Fist’s own series continued.
Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of the series is Iron Fist’s complex and fresh relationships with Colleen Wing and Misty Knight. It’s best to read it for oneself in the series, but the complexities and directions Danny’s relationships take with these two Crime Investigation partners is the most impressive aspect of the different direction in which the Claremont-era goes.
It’s a mostly-complete set, as far as the early Iron Fist era goes (it could have had a few other Marvel anthology issues), but the total package, changes and flaws and limitations and all, is a very impressive, worthwhile package and a great deal. You get the first appearance of Sabretooth, early John Byrne drawings of the X-Men, some clever scripting and plot twists (some abandoned ideas and characters as well), and a fairly cohesive-ish story. This was an enjoyable collection on the whole.
Whew, that was a full summer, wasn’t it? Though, truth be told, some of those were read before the summer began and after it ended. Anyway, we hope you enjoyed our exciting and rather diverse 25th issue. As always, it was great to hear from some old friends, and the work of the current students is none too shabby, either. Here’s to twenty-five more issues! Until next time, friends! So long!
Redeeming Pandora 