I <3 Books

1987

One of the best writers I've ever read, always, and again here. Not Vonnegut's best book, but brilliant nonetheless. The insights, criticisms, and commentaries, are one after another. The book is funny. Vonnegut's writing is like none other. The sentences, paragraphs, and structure is so basic, but brilliant. The book was almost a comment on Vonnegut's own writing. His take on abstract art spends a lot of time discussing whether abstract artists can actually draw, and does it matter whether they can or not. Vonnegut's sentences are so simple that the argument can be applied to him. He is a brilliant writer, but could he write like Steinbeck, or does it matter.

Romanticism of Americana is thick in the book. I still can't figure out if Vonnegut is criticising it, or if he truly is awed by American mythology. The cord automobile, the Chrysler building, hotels and restaurants in New York, are as much a part of his books as the characters or stories. Teen literature, wealthy summer home owners, artists, art collectors, such a random selection of targets, but so easily mocked and made to seem absurd.

Vonnegut's writing on WW2 is an invaluable part of the history of that war. He has a take on it that few other writers have, expect maybe Dalton Trumbo, but he wrote before that war, and he points out tragedies, and absurdities that are so real, but so awful to accept as truth. War is absurd, absolute insanity, that's the only way to look at it, and it's hard to argue with him when he writes the way he does.

1963

I tried, with this book, something that I thought would be fun. I bought two different translations of the sames book. The original book was Russian. I bought the Bantam translation by Max Hayward and Ronald Hingley and the Signet translation by Ralph Parker. I wanted to see if there was a difference. Books that have been translated are so often said to be no where near as good as the original. I mean, some people learn ancient Greek just to read Homer, because apparently it is like nothing ever written when read in the original Greek. And, when I think of some of the writing I love, Kurt Vonnegut or John Steinbeck, I can't imagine it being as good in another language. On the other hand, Tolstoy, Hugo, and Gabriel Garcia Marquez were some of the most beautiful writing I've ever read, and they were all translated.

The two books were different. And, apparently Solzhenitsyn turned out to be a good choice because his colloquial language is a challenge to translators, and there are different ways to approach it. The Bantam book tried to mimic a lot of the informality, and used English slang and relaxed language. It didn't really work, but I think it was more of a direct translation. The Parker translation was a bit more of a rewrite and tried to use well written English. I abandoned the Bantam one after a few chapters, and stuck to the Signet. It was a neat experiment, and I think I'll take a look at the various translations before diving into something huge like another Tolstoy or Hugo, or Proust.

The book was apparently a shock to the west when it documented the conditions in the Soviet post WW work camps. The camps were harsh, no doubt, and the reasons that could end someone up there often even harsher. Soldiers during the war were forbidden from surrendering. If they did, they would end up in a horrible German prison, and then, upon their release at the end of the war, would be sent to work camps as punishment for surrendering. Harsh. Although, this policy has been credited with compelling the Russians to fight to the death against the Germans, and ultimately, win. The character in this story, Ivan Denisovich, called Shukov throughout, was sent to prison for writing a letter to a friend about a different government. Or, maybe that was Solzhenitsyn himself, I can't remember. Solzhenitsyn spent time in a camp himself, which is why the book had such an impact, it was real. It was also a bit boring. It just sort of documented the guys day, he ate, got yelled at, shuffled around in line, and laid some brick in extreme cold. I don't completely see how the book was shocking. Maybe hindsight gives me a broader perspective, but I have heard many way harsher stories from the war, and other camps, that this one seems, still extremely inhumane, but a bit tame. A good book, an informative read, not totally gripping, but real.

1851

Wow, long, long. This was the most daunitng and difficult novel I have ever read. Why is it so famous? It's not really that good. Way too much description, so little movement. As a writer, Melville is on par with Hugo for his nowledge of the classiscs and ability to construct a sentence. But falls far behind when it comes to building a story. It is as much a techincal briefing of 18th century whaling as it is a fiction novel. There are so many chapters about the specific way to complete this or that specialized whaling manoever that removing 25% of the book would affect it little. There's probably an abriged version that's much more readable. After 900 pages, the reader knows more about whaling than about the characters and their relationships with each other. There's too much tell, and not enough show. Often, a whole chapter will be devoted to describing exactly what kind of man one of the sailors is, that you would think you know him. But it is then so rare to see that sailor in action -because there is so little action - that you don't get to know the characters at all. It is the opposite of Les Miserables for it's character and story development.

As a psycho-thriller, it almost feels like an old movie from the fifties that can't really cut it against new ultra-thrilling movies now. It is a bit predictable, and a bit repetitive. The captain is crazy, they sail looking for the whale, and ask everyone they meet if they've seen the whale. It builds to a crescendo, but the crescendo is so obvious that it's not rewarding arriving there.

The picture it paints of whaling life is vivid and real. The author did work on boats. And as far as my interest is whaling history goes, it satisfies any curiosity thoroughly. There is a certain amount of American myth-making and boosterism that contributes to it's place as a great American novel. Barack Obama said it was his favourite novel, I think his advisors told him to say that.

2008

Temple Grandin's story gets her noticed, but her ideas earn her respect. She is autistic, and possibly the most accomplished atustic person working. She teaches at a university in Colorado, and advises industries that work with animals on humane practices. She also writes books. Due to her autism, she claims, she can understand the behaviour of animals. Being more instinctive, sensitive, and tactile, closer to many animals than humans, Grandin has a legitimate basis for her claims.

She uses her knowledge to advise people on how to best treat their pets. The section on dogs is, obviously, of particular interest. Dogs are wolves. Study wolves; know dogs. Most wolves though, she says, are studies in captivity. Studying unrelated wolves in captivity is no different than imprisoning a bunch of disconnecte humans to study for broad conclusions about human interaction. It would be unrealistic. Wolves in the wild, she says, are not pack animals that seek dominance. They only seek dominance when in captivity with wolves they don't know - not unlike humans in prison. Wolves in the wils are family based animals. The defer to the older, often parental, wolves. The wolves have no more thought of seeking dominance than a son would have of overthrowing his father. As a result, don't raise your dogs as though you are the alpha wolf, raise them as though you are a parent - with respect and compassion. Brilliant stuff. Briliant. Lots more in the book.