You'll all have heard of this book - it's the one from which the term 'utopia' is derived - I certainly had, but didn't know what it was about until starting to read. It's incredibly cleverly written; More writes as himself, giving a narrative he's heard from an explorer, which allows him to distance himself from some of the ideas - prudent for a political figure in 1500s England (he was eventually beheaded, but for different reasons). Letters to and by a (real) friend, Peter Gilles, who apparently also knows the original narrator and was there at the time, are included at the start. It seems that some readers did fall for this. But there is a lot more to Utopia than the detail and realism of the background.
The word 'utopia' apparently translates to 'no place', and the story is related by 'Hythlodaeus' - 'distributor of nonsense'. While emphasising that the idea is purely imaginary, More gives his idea of how the world should function. A more positive view is taken than the satire of Swift in Gulliver's Travels, although the basis is similar - to visit a new country and describe the political, economic, religious and social structure. While some of More's views, for example on the role of women, wouldn't be accepted now, they may have been liberal for his time. I could go on to describe other features of Utopia (an almost communist lifestyle; religious freedom), but that would defeat the purpose of reading it. Many of the ideas wouldn't be considered unusual now, but regardless of this, and particularly in context, it is thought-provoking, and, at around 100 pages, won't take too much commitment to read. Remember that this is the starting point for utopian literature!
Try to find a good translation (unless you feel inclined to try the original) - I read the 1965 Penguin Classics edition, which translates most of the Latin names; it has an interesting introduction, notes, and a glossary of names referring back to the original Latin versions and their meanings.
Friday, 29 February 2008
The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists - Robert Tressel
(I wrote this review last year, so my opinions might have changed, but thought this might be relevant to the one I just did of Mary Barton).
It's a book by a guy writing under the name of Robert Tressel, and an excellent insight into socialism in early 1900s Britain. It seemed a bit simplified to me at first but after reading the introduction I must admit I missed some points. Perhaps it's not as relevant to present day New Zealand but the reasoning is still the same, and the situation is very similar in a lot of countries which still seem trapped in the industrial revolution.
The story follows a group of workmen and their families for over a year, showing the problems they're facing; and also the scheming of the bourgeoisie to exploit their employees as much as possible (names like Adam Sweater and Mrs Starvem help to overstate the point a little). Like Gaskell in Mary Barton, Tressel emphasies the suffering of the workers One of the workers, Frank Owen, turns out to be a socialist, and gives several 'lectures' to the others - telling them that they are being exploited, explaining how they're being exploited - and is generally ridiculed for it. Clearly the author was (naturally) furious with the entire system. The amount of repetition regarding this seems unnecessary, but does make the book an excellent 'beginner's guide to socialism' (from my limited knowledge of the subject).
There is also an emphasis on the frustration felt by Owen at the lack of understanding shown by the workers (the novel is based on his own experiences) - and while I can't find any specific article to back me up on this (and could be completely wrong), I think this is related to Gramsci's idea of hegemony (relying on what I recall from proofreading my sister's essay), so it appears to have been observed and documented before Gramsci (but only recognised as social control - nothing so elaborate as his theories about hegemony).
It's interesting to note that while reading the book, I somehow got the impression that the author had never actually been one of the workers he was writing about, but I was completely wrong. The person who wrote the introduction also got this impression on first reading. It's possibly to do with the somewhat derogatory tone taken towards most of the characters - including the workers - for perpetuating and believing in the system.
The life of the author is also interesting, and relevant, but something you'll find out about if you do read the book (or an introduction). In my opinion the prose wasn't particularly good, and the ideas were repeated too often - at times too sarcastic for a modern reader? but it's definitely worth the time all the same.
Before I forget: the 'ragged trousered philanthropists' are the workmen - philanthropists, because they're willing to sacrifice their - and their families' - necessities, working in unhealthy conditions for a pittance, and content to be exploited for the comfort of their 'masters'. (Ragged Trousered is pretty self explanatory).
It's a book by a guy writing under the name of Robert Tressel, and an excellent insight into socialism in early 1900s Britain. It seemed a bit simplified to me at first but after reading the introduction I must admit I missed some points. Perhaps it's not as relevant to present day New Zealand but the reasoning is still the same, and the situation is very similar in a lot of countries which still seem trapped in the industrial revolution.
The story follows a group of workmen and their families for over a year, showing the problems they're facing; and also the scheming of the bourgeoisie to exploit their employees as much as possible (names like Adam Sweater and Mrs Starvem help to overstate the point a little). Like Gaskell in Mary Barton, Tressel emphasies the suffering of the workers One of the workers, Frank Owen, turns out to be a socialist, and gives several 'lectures' to the others - telling them that they are being exploited, explaining how they're being exploited - and is generally ridiculed for it. Clearly the author was (naturally) furious with the entire system. The amount of repetition regarding this seems unnecessary, but does make the book an excellent 'beginner's guide to socialism' (from my limited knowledge of the subject).
There is also an emphasis on the frustration felt by Owen at the lack of understanding shown by the workers (the novel is based on his own experiences) - and while I can't find any specific article to back me up on this (and could be completely wrong), I think this is related to Gramsci's idea of hegemony (relying on what I recall from proofreading my sister's essay), so it appears to have been observed and documented before Gramsci (but only recognised as social control - nothing so elaborate as his theories about hegemony).
It's interesting to note that while reading the book, I somehow got the impression that the author had never actually been one of the workers he was writing about, but I was completely wrong. The person who wrote the introduction also got this impression on first reading. It's possibly to do with the somewhat derogatory tone taken towards most of the characters - including the workers - for perpetuating and believing in the system.
The life of the author is also interesting, and relevant, but something you'll find out about if you do read the book (or an introduction). In my opinion the prose wasn't particularly good, and the ideas were repeated too often - at times too sarcastic for a modern reader? but it's definitely worth the time all the same.
Before I forget: the 'ragged trousered philanthropists' are the workmen - philanthropists, because they're willing to sacrifice their - and their families' - necessities, working in unhealthy conditions for a pittance, and content to be exploited for the comfort of their 'masters'. (Ragged Trousered is pretty self explanatory).
Mary Barton - Elizabeth Gaskell
Mary Barton is another of those mid-19th century novels about the working class in industrial Britain. It is apparently one of the earliest novels of this sort, and may be worth reading for that reason alone. I'm not sure that all of you will have the patience for the melodrama, and this style of writing, but if you do it's an interesting book. The story follows Mary, her father John, their family friends and her suitors, through a simple enough plot involving a murder and subsequent trial (and some remarkable coincidences, of course). Compared to authors such as Thomas Hardy, Gaskell avoids the idealisation of working class life - in fact, she emphasises the hardships - but a strong religious element rather blunts the effect, and I expect that people with more Marxist views will disagree with her beliefs.
My political science lecturer pointed out in one of our classes that people who lead revolutions (at least the 'People's Revolutions' kind) tend to be well off - not the people that the revolutions are meant to help. This could be extended to say that authors of books protesting the 'condition of the working class' are also generally middle class and comparatively wealthy, which is interesting - hypocritical, perhaps? (Maybe this isn't the right place for that particular discussion...) Anyway, when I first started reading Mary Barton I was expecting something similar, but found that Gaskell isn't protesting inequality as much as lamenting the consequences. Her view seems to be that, while class divisions are perfectly acceptable, the wealthy should, out of the kindness of their hearts, do as much as they can for the poor. When wages are cut, it is so that the factory owners can continue cheap production and therefore stay in business, which would be beneficial to the workers. Apparently the problem is that the working class doesn't understand this, and the industrialists don't know how much their workers are suffering. This bothered me throughout the novel, enough to make me want to throw things at Gaskell, but is one of the reasons that I'd recommend reading it (it's good to know what other people think, after all).
The original title was 'John Barton', because the story was meant to focus on Mary's father and his struggle (as a trades' unionist) against the industrialists of Manchester. However, the publisher required a name change - it's easy enough to see that Mary does end up playing the main role, whatever Gaskell's intentions were. The story of Mary's two love interests (the son of a factory owner, and her childhood friend, who is a factory worker) is meant to link back to the theme of 'the suffering of the poor', and the activities of the more radical trades unionists, but in many aspects manages to detract from it. Nevertheless it's important to keep this in mind while reading the book, because John Barton makes some interesting decisions in his frustration with the industrialists, which are significant in the themes, not just as a plot device.
Another point of interest is the way the lives of the characters are described. The first few chapters, in particular, are quite readable, showing the friendships between the characters - I felt that this was later sacrificed to the plot, but at least there was something to think back fondly on while mentally throwing things at the author. The religious element surfaces most strongly at the end of the novel, with deathbed confessions and redemptions and whatnot (Gaskell was married to a minister, after all) and was another annoying feature. However, the views expressed in the novel are might be quite liberal for Victorian England (alright, so she 'redeems' the prostitute, but never condemns her in the first place).
It doesn't look like I have that many good things to say about Mary Barton but it's worth reading for a different opinion, however frustrating it may be, and I don't think any of you will have trouble with the actual writing style, and it's less than 400 pages which isn't much compared to some of the massive tomes I see you lot with. I can't say that you'll enjoy it, but hopefully it'll make you think.
My political science lecturer pointed out in one of our classes that people who lead revolutions (at least the 'People's Revolutions' kind) tend to be well off - not the people that the revolutions are meant to help. This could be extended to say that authors of books protesting the 'condition of the working class' are also generally middle class and comparatively wealthy, which is interesting - hypocritical, perhaps? (Maybe this isn't the right place for that particular discussion...) Anyway, when I first started reading Mary Barton I was expecting something similar, but found that Gaskell isn't protesting inequality as much as lamenting the consequences. Her view seems to be that, while class divisions are perfectly acceptable, the wealthy should, out of the kindness of their hearts, do as much as they can for the poor. When wages are cut, it is so that the factory owners can continue cheap production and therefore stay in business, which would be beneficial to the workers. Apparently the problem is that the working class doesn't understand this, and the industrialists don't know how much their workers are suffering. This bothered me throughout the novel, enough to make me want to throw things at Gaskell, but is one of the reasons that I'd recommend reading it (it's good to know what other people think, after all).
The original title was 'John Barton', because the story was meant to focus on Mary's father and his struggle (as a trades' unionist) against the industrialists of Manchester. However, the publisher required a name change - it's easy enough to see that Mary does end up playing the main role, whatever Gaskell's intentions were. The story of Mary's two love interests (the son of a factory owner, and her childhood friend, who is a factory worker) is meant to link back to the theme of 'the suffering of the poor', and the activities of the more radical trades unionists, but in many aspects manages to detract from it. Nevertheless it's important to keep this in mind while reading the book, because John Barton makes some interesting decisions in his frustration with the industrialists, which are significant in the themes, not just as a plot device.
Another point of interest is the way the lives of the characters are described. The first few chapters, in particular, are quite readable, showing the friendships between the characters - I felt that this was later sacrificed to the plot, but at least there was something to think back fondly on while mentally throwing things at the author. The religious element surfaces most strongly at the end of the novel, with deathbed confessions and redemptions and whatnot (Gaskell was married to a minister, after all) and was another annoying feature. However, the views expressed in the novel are might be quite liberal for Victorian England (alright, so she 'redeems' the prostitute, but never condemns her in the first place).
It doesn't look like I have that many good things to say about Mary Barton but it's worth reading for a different opinion, however frustrating it may be, and I don't think any of you will have trouble with the actual writing style, and it's less than 400 pages which isn't much compared to some of the massive tomes I see you lot with. I can't say that you'll enjoy it, but hopefully it'll make you think.
Monday, 11 February 2008
Boring administrative-y matters
You've probably all thought of this already, but just to be obvious:
What to review: anything that you'd like everyone else to know about. There's no point in reviewing something like the Lord of the Rings unless you thought it was horrid and want to warn everyone off (which would be pointless in this case since everyone's read it). Equally, there's no point in reviewing something completely obscure unless you think we should hunt it out and read it. If we're interested in discussing books, rather than reviewing them, we could put 'discussion' in the title and the tags (and remember to do spoiler alerts).
That brings me to tags: It'd be good if everyone could tag their reviews as they write them - someone else will do them if you don't, but not as well. Have a look at the tags that are already there, or make some up. It'll become useful if we end up with fifty reviews and don't want to look over all of them to find something to read.
You all have admin privileges, so go ahead and use them - in particular, you can get the blog to email you about comments (and possibly about posts, although I haven't figured that setting out yet), and add your own web comics ;) and blogs to the list of our sites. (Update: if you want the blog to email you when a new post is put up, either do it yourself under Settings-> Email and add your address, or let me know and I'll do it).
If someone's already reviewed something you wanted to write about, don't be put off - you can add a comment to their review. If you have a lot to write, and the original author doesn't mind, you could always add it to the end of their review - do mention who you are, though, and remember we won't know the review has been updated. The best thing to do might be to write another review, and add the book title to the tags of both reviews, so that we know there's another one.
When you review a book of which you are fortunate enough to possess a copy, and feel generous enough to let someone else read it, you could mention that in your post, and also whether it's in Christchurch or Wellington (or wherever else you happen to be).
Any other suggestions?
What to review: anything that you'd like everyone else to know about. There's no point in reviewing something like the Lord of the Rings unless you thought it was horrid and want to warn everyone off (which would be pointless in this case since everyone's read it). Equally, there's no point in reviewing something completely obscure unless you think we should hunt it out and read it. If we're interested in discussing books, rather than reviewing them, we could put 'discussion' in the title and the tags (and remember to do spoiler alerts).
That brings me to tags: It'd be good if everyone could tag their reviews as they write them - someone else will do them if you don't, but not as well. Have a look at the tags that are already there, or make some up. It'll become useful if we end up with fifty reviews and don't want to look over all of them to find something to read.
You all have admin privileges, so go ahead and use them - in particular, you can get the blog to email you about comments (and possibly about posts, although I haven't figured that setting out yet), and add your own web comics ;) and blogs to the list of our sites. (Update: if you want the blog to email you when a new post is put up, either do it yourself under Settings-> Email and add your address, or let me know and I'll do it).
If someone's already reviewed something you wanted to write about, don't be put off - you can add a comment to their review. If you have a lot to write, and the original author doesn't mind, you could always add it to the end of their review - do mention who you are, though, and remember we won't know the review has been updated. The best thing to do might be to write another review, and add the book title to the tags of both reviews, so that we know there's another one.
When you review a book of which you are fortunate enough to possess a copy, and feel generous enough to let someone else read it, you could mention that in your post, and also whether it's in Christchurch or Wellington (or wherever else you happen to be).
Any other suggestions?
Sunday, 10 February 2008
Dragon's Fire - Anne and Todd McCaffrey
I actually did a review for the Todd-only Pern novel a while back (Dragon’s Blood). I can’t figure out whether this one is before or after – I think before, as in this one they haven’t started their exploration of the Southern Continent.
Anyway, the brilliant thing about the Dragons of Pern series is that you can pick up any one of the books and pretty much throw yourself straight into the story. I mean there’s not much to remember for the books’ premise: Sci-fi/ Fantasy world with dragons that was colonised by our descendants escaping Earth. Sister planet orbits too close every once in a while and drops the evil life-form called thread. Dragons burn thread, everybody happy…
Dragon’s Fire involves the search for firestone – the fuel dragons need to create flames with is running out and with the next pass about 30 years away something needs to be done. Thus some heroes are discovered and the disaster accordingly dealt with in a way that keeps the reader involved, interested, and excited right to the last page. In fact the stories stay so fresh up to the end that you almost don’t see it coming, and in some ways feel a bit short-changed in not having the usual wind down.
It’s nothing special when compared to other Pern novels, but in the greater scheme of things the McCaffrey’s write brilliant fiction: The scenery is always colourful, and the culture continues around and through the plot. The characters are crafted very deftly in such a way that their character is quickly identifiable and memorable yet they still appear to have depth – it’s just that we don’t really see it (or need to).
I enjoyed it; however, there were a few things that irked me somewhat. The main characters seem a bit dumb when it comes to communication (horrid pun given that one of the guys is a mute…). There were a number of points when I was left thinking “but but why didn’t you say something??” or “how can anyone be that stupid?!” etc. Some of these reasons I may have just missed, and a few are explained later, but it seemed to me the main characters were behaving a bit too irrationally to achieve verisimilitude. This might have been at least partially due to having two writers involved and while they know intimately the world that has been created, they do have slightly different writing styles and merging each of their own bits with the other didn’t quite mesh nicely in places.
All in all it’s a good book with good twists and changes in plot, but just a tad frustrating. Read it if you like Pern and the McCaffrey’s, don’t if you don’t :P
Friday, 8 February 2008
The Angel with One Hundred Wings - A Tale from the Arabian Nights; by Daniel Horch
Oh yeah – ancient script fonts all the way for this one!
Daniel Horch has created a gem of a historical novel in this tale. Inspired by “L’histoire des amours d’Aboulhassan” from Arabian Nights (as translated by Antoine Galland), this book is set in
The tale centres around an elderly pharmacist called Aboulhassan, who has made his fortunes in his time selling potions, and has effectively retired to perfect his art of alchemy and try, with dwindling time, to find the elixir of life. His skill with potions and wisdom through a life of trials sees him somewhat reluctantly hosting afternoon talks with youths who are mostly there out of moral obligation, and also playing chess with his only close friend the Sultan (our pharmacist being one of the few men to ever win – although he tried not to…).
One youth, however, is much more interested in Abulhassan’s wisdom than most – he too is called Abulhassan, but also the Prince of Persia, the last living descendant of the royal family ousted from power by the religious clout of the Sultan, allowed to live by virtue of his parents’ loyalty to the Sultan. One fateful day, the Sultan’s mistress comes to visit the pharmacist for some perfume and meets the Prince and it is from there a story of intrigue, love and scandal develops. Poor Abul must choose which of his close friends to betray – the Sultan a long time friend, companion, and the authority of the land; or the Prince, his protégé who has grown into a man at Abul’s side.
The book is amazing – it really brings this ancient city to life, and fills it with elaborate characters in a richly decorated environment. Daniel Horch has done his research where needed, and used his imagination to fill in the rest – the story and events contained within are almost all fictional but utterly believable.
It was a pleasure to read this beautiful work of story-telling in its engaging surroundings featuring a combination of alchemy, the Koran, Islamic mystics and a touch of history.
The Wit and Wisdom of Discworld - Terry Pratchett
““Do you know, a fortune-teller once told me I’d die in my bed, surrounded by grieving great-grandchildren,” said Mooty. “What do you think of that eh?”
I THINK SHE WAS WRONG.” (Guards! Guards!)
Sweetened condensed milk. It makes a wonderful ingredient in cooking, or you can drizzle on top of stuff, take a passing finger lick out of the tin, or sit down with a spoon and have a really good time gorging yourself.
This book is sweetened condensed milk. Containing the essence of what makes Discworld fantastically funny and clever; this compilation of the best quotes from the series serves many purposes. It can inspire you to read books you haven’t got round to, it can make you want to read the whole lot again, or it can just refresh plot lines in your mind, all the while providing wise words and amusing gags.
““It’s going to look pretty good, then, isn’t it,” said War testily, “the One Horseman and Three Pedestrians of the Apocralypse.”” (Sourcery)
Some will argue it’s not the greatest compilation – everyone has their own favourite characters, plots and jokes. Nor can this book contain every little gem or clever escapade – some of Pratchett’s better work lasts for pages. Seriously, if you wanted every good bit of the Discworld you may as well bind all the novels together. But this book, as I said – it’s the essence of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld: There’s a perfect balance of DEATH, Rincewind, U.U, Vimes, and other characters and casual comments.
“Meat pies! Hot sausages! Inna bun! So fresh the pig hasn’t noticed they’re gone!” (Moving Pictures)
I loved it, read it from start to end and immediately wanted to pick up some of the books that I haven’t touched in too long. As I said – sweetened condensed milk. You don’t have to read it all at once, you can just flick open, find a random quote and smile.
“Words are the litmus paper of the mind. If you find yourself in the power of someone who will use the word “commence” in cold blood, go somewhere else very quickly. But if they say “Enter,” don’t stop to pack.” (Small Gods)
Earth, Air, Fire, and Custard - Tom Holt
Tom Holt is to literature what Monty Python were to television. Hilarious, odd, and at times so completely random that you don’t have a clue what’s going on.
This is the 3rd book of the “Paul Carpenter” novels – based in a world featuring the magic company “J. W. Wells” out of Gilbert & Sullivan’s work The Sorcerer.
You don’t need to have read the earlier books – I don’t think I have; however, doing so may help general storyline cohesion. But you’re all smart people and able to put threads together fairly quickly. Well, as fast as you can with a writer who not only keeps you in the dark for most of the book, but makes sure that the light-bulb has blown, that there’s just enough draft to blow out any candles that you try to light along the way, and puts a blindfold on you for good measure too…
Anyway, Paul had his soul sold to this magic firm (who are mostly goblins) when he was a child and since has worked for as a lowly clerk doing paper shuffling tasks, while learning the odd bit of magic. In previous adventures he saved the world from the evil humanoid creatures, and had a perfect relationship ruined when all traces of love for him were removed from his fiancée Sophie’s mind. He has died a few times, visited the Bank of Death and withdrawn himself out of there in different ways.
It’s hard to say what the true plot of this story is… Holt has the book filled with so many red herrings moving so quickly it’s like it’s not only raining fish, but also firing them at you out of a cannon, and if the protagonist doesn’t have a clue what’s going on, you can rest assured you won’t either. Suffice to say it comes down to a power struggle between God and a mad magical scientist, and believe you me – I didn’t know that until almost the end… What goes on around it all can be charming, alarming, confusing and falsely enlightening, and you grasp at straws as much as Paul does to make sense of it all.
The characters are well written – from the confused, self-degredating hero, and the sulky romantic interest, to the imposing partners of the firms, and also the bit characters, they all fit tightly into the picture.
The plot is… I think I may have already mentioned this, but it’s complicated. If you like a book to make sense the whole way through this is NOT your type of book. “Like Robert Jordan times three” to quote Paul as he tries to explain it to someone. Chapters can fly past in a whirl of words and colours and not really make sense. If you like Pratchett or Robert Rankin I’d say that you will love Tom Holt – but if random is not your thing stay away.
I laughed and laughed and laughed while reading this book – I hope you do too.
Chart Throb - Ben Elton
Having read and loved his crime/war novel “The First Casualty” I picked up this book with the knowledge that it was going to be well written. I was right. Chart Throb is a masterful blend of intrigue, story, satire and cynicism. It details the running of a new season of the hit TV show “Chart Throb” a pop idol show like all the others – but done better. Go behind the façade that is put on screen for the public and see how contestants are picked, filmed, used and dropped on the whims of the main judge Calvin (very much like Simon Cowell, but meaner). Along with this we have ethical conflicts for the research team behind the scenes, romantic interests, and power struggles as the 2 other judges vie for more screen time and a better representation of the “real” them to help their own careers. Yes, for the other judges that perfect mix is used with a mumsy mum (who just happens to also be a transsexual still undergoing further cosmetic surgery), and a once famous musician trying to get back into the spotlight by being supportive, harsh, friendly, critical, and goofy all at once…
As stated, a very cynical look at the reality TV industry and especially the pop idol arena. All in all, a good laugh with twists and turns that will keep you guessing the whole way through.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)