Thanks to Leslie for lending me this on a long plane journey many years ago. (In 2000, if you must know.)
Articles about books
Woman’s World — Graham Rawle
I love the way that some of the word combinations lead to odd turns of phrase and overextended metaphors that you wouldn’t see in any normal book, such as
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The Art of Always Being Right — Arthur Schopenhauer
This book is not really about being right. It’s about winning arguments, even when you’re wrong. The 38 tactics include such classics as “Use your opponent’s views”, “Beg the question” and the ultimate: “Become personal, insulting, rude”. You’ll recognise these from many annoying and unsatisfying arguments you’ve had. This book helps you avoid them, and if necessary, use them yourself. Very useful, and all based on “the natural baseness of human nature”. Perhaps it’s best not to dwell on that.
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This idea/review is about arguments, books, philosophy, psychology, Schopenhauer. Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment
The Paradox of Choice — Why More Is Less
The increasing amount of choice we have now allows us to lead lives that are objectively better, but subjectively worse than before. This thought-provoking book by Barry Schwartz tries to show why the increasing amount of choice in our lives isn’t making us happier — in fact, it’s making us less happy. Fortunately, he also describes solutions to allow us to manage the negative effects of choice.
I tend to agree with him in general. Here’s a rather trivial example of a way I have tried to avoid the problem. When confronted with a restaurant menu, I try to read down the menu until I find something that sounds good to me. Then I stop, and order that thing. There are some restaurants I have been to several times where I have never read to the end of the menu, because I know that I will end up agonising over my choice and thinking I should have chosen something else anyway.
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God is Not Great — Christopher Hitchens
Organised religion is a pernicious anachronism that should be abolished, according to Christopher Hitchens. His book is subtitled “How religion poisons everything” in case there was any doubt about his position. Organised religions are pretty much indefensible anyway, but his arguments are still worth reading — I learned a few interesting bits of history. And it’s bracing to see so many dogmas held up in such a cold and unflattering light.
God is not Great takes iconoclasm to new heights. Hitchens heaps scorn on the usual zealots, from Osama bin Laden to various Popes (including the current one). But his targets cover the full spectrum of celebrity, from the sublime (Mother Theresa, M. K. Gandhi, the Dalai Lama) to the ridiculous (Mel Gibson is memorably described as an “Australian fascist and ham actor”). The only famous exception is Martin Luther King, Jr, who manages to come out looking like a decent (if flawed) human being.
I enjoyed reading God is not Great, but I think it does miss the point a bit. In the conflict between Reason and Faith, Reason wins easily; but that’s because Faith isn’t playing the game. Some say that if people believe religious dogmas even in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary, then this simply confirms how marvellously strong their faith is. You just can’t use logic against this kind of position, but that what Hitchens tries to do. This approach only seems to work here because he is preaching to the converted. Or perhaps I should say unconverted.
The Ghost in the Shell
Politics, cyberpunk (pseudo)science, philosophy, big explosions and scantily-clad nubile young women. Sure it’s only a comic, but it still left me as breathless as a frenetic action film.
This chunky book looks to be a compilation of several episodes of a series. The great thing is that they have translated only what they had to — the comic still reads right-to-left, and a lot of the Japanese writing (especially the onomatopoeia) is still there. They’ve done a good job of preserving the feel of the original manga while making it readable in English.
I bought this in Tokyo four years ago but only just got around to reading it. When I bought the book (at Kinokuniya in Shinjuku, I think), the shop staff covered it in the traditional plain brown wrapper, ingeniously folding it so I could read the book on the train without causing a scandal. Very handy at work: when the book is closed it looks like some sort of textbook. 🙂
Lonely Planet Guide to Experimental Travel
If you’re bored with the usual sightseeing holiday — hunting down famous places and buildings and checking them off your “must-see” list — then you could try mixing it up a little. Jump on a local train and stay on it until the end of the line. Find a wandering dog and follow it. Buy an 18th-century guidebook and use it to plan your itinerary. There are a lot of ways to make travel surprising again, and a lot of them are gathered in The Lonely Planet Guide to Experimental Travel. This is my kind of travel book.
Frank Moorhouse — Sydney Writers’ Festival
Last week, Australian writer Frank Moorhouse spoke at the University of Wollongong as a spin-off of the Sydney Writers’ Festival. Alerted by the microscopic notice in the local newspaper, we went off to see him. We arrived just in time, negotiated with the ladies at the door, and went in. Arming ourselves with red wine and spring rolls, we sat down with about 80 others to listen to what Mr Moorhouse had to say.
I have read about Frank Moorhouse and his work before, but somehow have still never read any of his writing. Unfortunately, the last I had heard of him was in an uncomplimentary review of The Best Australian Stories 2004,
After a traditional Aboriginal welcome and an introduction, Frank got up and started to talk about the obligations that readers have. For example, how much of a book must we read before we can legitimately decide that the book is no good? The audience had diverse views on this: one man thought that you really should read the entire book once you’d started it; others thought that 50 or 100 pages was enough to decide. (I was reminded of Shaw’s quip “You don’t have to eat a whole egg to know it’s rotten.”) One woman said the minimum was 100 pages, but this number could be reduced by 5 for every year over 50: due to her greater life experience, a 60-year-old could tell a book’s quality after only 50 pages.
Ella Minnow Pea — Mark Dunn
The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.
This fun novel is also a puzzle and a fairly impressive display of linguistic virtuosity. The book is a progressive lipogram – it starts off normally, but its alphabet shrinks as the story goes on. It’s not too hard to write without using Z, but things get more interesting as letters like D, A and even E vanish. We see more and more creative synonyms being used and invented.
This book consists entirely of letters written by the characters to each other. I like the way the sentences are written – the story is set in a land that esteems words and literature above all, and it shows in the way the characters play with language.
With the cute story and clever wordplay, the first half of the book is a delight. A little after this, the author cops out a bit as he has fewer and fewer letters to work with, and it all gets a bit harder to read. The story continues though, as the characters work against the clock to save their country – by solving a word puzzle.
A Man Jumps Out of an Airplane — Barry Yourgrau
A fantastic collection of dreams. Most of these short pieces are less than a page long, but they perfectly convey that weird logic peculiar to dreams. It’s amazing how much he packs into such a short form.
I bought this randomly in a used bookshop, in a double edition with the same author’s Wearing Dad’s Head. WDH is similar to Airplane, but does seem to focus rather a lot on the author’s troubled relationship with his overbearing father. The makes the book more personal, but for me, less beautifully dream-like. (Your dreams may vary.)