The Surgeon's Mate! Another swashbuckling adventure!

Another day another wonderful tale of Lucky Jack Aubrey and his brilliant friend Stephen Maturin. This book had several interesting twists to the broader story of Aubrey and Maturin and as always I recommend the series to anyone serious about adventure and swashbuckling escapades.

Her Eerie Harmony

Expectations are funny things. They can set a book up to be a new favorite or a major disappointment, or they can set a low standard for a novel and make it work harder to impress us. Sometimes we are lucky enough to read a book that has not yet been tainted by our expectations, but more often we are intellectually carrying memories of recommendations, articles or reviews we have perused, or past novels by the same author.

When I began to read Her Fearful Symmetry, the only thing I had on my mind was The Time Traveler’s Wife, the only other novel I have read by Audrey Niffenegger. If you haven’t read it, The Time Traveler’s Wife is one of the most beautiful books I have ever read, and this is no exaggeration. I have not yet seen the movie, but the book was one of the most perfectly heart-wrenching, romantic works of art I have ever had the pleasure of partaking in—without degenerating into mindless chick lit.

Needless to say, the bar was set high.

At first, I was surprised by Her Fearful Symmetry. It is dark, eerie, and downright creepy, lacking all of the warm qualities that made me love The Time Traveler’s Wife. But once I consciously set aside all the unfair expectations I was bringing to the table, I began to appreciate Her Fearful Symmetry for what it really is: an engaging tribute to the genre of gothic romance.

I have a lot of words I could say about this story, but, in an attempt to narrow my focus, I will address my favorite character: Martin, a linguistically-talented, crossword-creating man with a severe case of obsessive compulsive disorder that has driven his wife away. Martin and Mareijke (his wife) had a beautiful, loving relationship that has been all but destroyed by Martin’s mental illness. Seeing Martin’s progression throughout the story was a major strength the story, and made up for the face that a few of the main characters were hard to like/relate to.

I don’t want to give anything away about this story—I suspect some of you may want to read it (Kristin? Kelsha, perchance? I even think Luke would enjoy it), and I appreciated the fact that when I read it, I had no idea what was coming—so I want my friends to have the same luxury.

I am currently reading The Fellowship of the Ring and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, which are abrupt departures from Her Fearful Symmetry. Ah, winter break!

The End is in Sight

… Of my latest reading exploit, that is.

I am almost finished with Her Fearful Symmetry, which Kristin and Kenneth gave me for Christmas. It is an eerie, startlingly realistic book, and I wanted to share a quick quote of it as a preview to a later post:

“Being in love is…anxious,” he said. “Wanting to please, worrying that she will see me as I really am. But wanting to be known. That is…you’re naked, moaning in the dark, no dignity at all…I wanted her to know me and to love me even though she everything I am, and I knew her. Now she’s gone, and my knowledge is incomplete.”

Exposition: this was said by a character who is severely OCD, whose wife left him.

This is a beautiful book. I am excited to tell you all about it.

Give it a rest Rand, restore my imagination Jules

So the Fountainhead made me very tired to read. While it still calls to me with its siren song of self-absorbation. However I had to take a break, this need arose when Ayn baby introduced another character. This vexed me as I would prefer she just hash out the ones she's already got. This issuse of hashing is also what caused me to turn aside from the treatise of the ideal objectivismistic man. I began reading this book strictly for entertainment, this of course is impossible, but in the end this new character was the straw that broke this camel's back. I shouted to the cosmos(At least Ayn's), "I get it! I don't need to have this idea re-hashed for me for another 300 pages!" So while at the bookstore I saw a collection of three adventure novels by Jules Verne for $13. I had told myself I wanted to read Jules(note that I refer to these people by their first name(this is a classic rhetorical trick to create the sense of intimate association)) after watching the 3rd installment of Back to the Future, where he's referenced. So I bought it, left The Fountainhead in my mom's truck and dove into 20,000 leagues Under the Sea. It's been great! I read the intro and found out that Jules wrote only in French and most of the translations were horrible abridgements completely changing the originals. Also that movies based on his books have only furthered the inacurate idea that the general public has for the stories. This has been true as besides the names, there's little else in common between the disney movie and the book. He references physics terms which I'm fluent in, while it pains me to admit this I've paid a painful amount of money to know these things. It's a pretty long book and a great adventure. He pokes gentle fun at Americans and it great to look at adventure that is semi-common place in our modern times from the view of an 1800's author.

a cooked goose for everyone!

Are there other things I should be doing on Christmas Eve other than reviewing this book? Yes. Don't ask.

Now, it is Christmas Eve, and I feel the need to review a classic which I read at least once a year. Thats right. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. If you haven't read it. Please for the sake of yourselves, your families, and all of humanity take an hour and do so. It is not that long and will give even the grumpiest gus the warmest of fuzzys.

My favorite thing about this book is that Scrooge didn't start out as a grumpy old man. He was a happy-go-lucky, young kid once. This story shows us the process he went through to become so mean. My favorite thing about this book is that it is about change and second chances.

Everyone can relate to the idea of wanting to be better, and just wishing they could have that chance. Its so wonderful at the end of the book when Scrooge not only recognizes his need to change but actually does so. How many times have I thought I should be better at something and then not followed through? I prefer not to reflect upon it.

Below is one of my favorite moments from the end of the book for your enjoyment. Merry Christmas everyone!

"I don't know what to do!" cried Scrooge, laughing and crying in the same breath; and making a perfect Laocoön of himself with his stockings. "I am as light as a feather, I am as happy as an angel, I am as merry as a school-boy. I am as giddy as a drunken man. A merry Christmas to every-body! A happy New Year to all the world! Hallo here! Whoop! Hallo!"

Green indeed is the colour of lovers.

Of all the embarrassing gaps in my reading, Shakespeare is probably the most prominent and obvious name on the roster. I have only feasted on two works of the Bard: Othello (which I actually read for pleasure when I was a junior) and Romeo and Juliet (the latter was an assignment for a certain high school English class). I was propelled to read Love’s Labours Lost because we watched a musical based on the play in Theater, and Utah State is going to be having a production of this play in the spring. My interest was sparked.

Quick summary: Love’s Labours Lost is a comedy in which the King of Navarre and three of his men decide to retreat to an academy for three years, to pursue learning and spiritual enlightenment; they have vowed not to see any woman in that time. However, the Princess of France and three of her ladies come to the academy to negotiate on behalf of France, and HIJINKS ENSUE.

Love’s Labors Lost contained many moments of great hilarity. Maybe it was because I had seen most of the musical beforehand, so I had a mental picture of how the scenes were taking place—nevertheless, a lot of the dialogue and even implied physical humor made me chuckle to myself. I have to say, for a crusty Englishman born in the 16^th century, Shakespeare has some startlingly astute commentary on relationships and flirtations between men and women. The dialogue between the lords and ladies parallels conversations that can be heard today between amorous young people, albeit the sexual innuendos are wittier.

I have not much to say, besides this has sparked a thirst in me to read more Shakespeare. But! Next up is Jesus the Christ and The Lord of the Rings. Shakespeare will have to wait!

Sweet Jabber this is a long post

Alrighty then, time for my first post. You've been warned, it's going to be long.
I don't really know what to talk about, and admittedly I'm a little nervous. After all, this blog is home to some of the finest intellectuals I know (although I only know seven or eight people) and to try and compete with them is a daunting task. I mean, Kelsi can read three books while standing on her head and Ken's always into some new political science treatise or wordy novella on the finer points of 18th century sailing. I could tell you about my readings of 'The Idiot' or 'Crime And Punishment', but it'd sound like a kid telling you about a picture he drew that he's so proud of. It's cute, but you know the child is retarded (as all children are) and you could have drawn a better picture any day of the week. So I'll do what I always do when I face a difficult obstacle: I won't even try to compete.

Instead, I'll tell you about some books I've been reading in that most derided of all book genres: fantasy. Oh, poor fantasy. Fantasy and sci-fi (or SyFy) books are like that weird cousin at the family reunions. You know who I mean. The one who has a ponytail and is overweight, pale, and in his mid-thirties but still working at Taco Bell. In other words, fantasy is a genre that people generally avoid unless they want people to associate them with weirdness. But let me tell you something, my friends and AJ: I have discovered someone who might make fantasy cool. And his name is China Mieville.

Now, we all now what comes to mind when we hear the word 'fantasy' in regards to books. We think of elves who are basically hippies good at archery, dwarves who have scraggly beards and live in mountains*, orcs who are bad, and humans who are either transcendent paragons of courage or sniveling sacks of crap. Oh, and dragons. Why don't we just call fantasy what it is: Tolkienism, because it seems we're all content to just take what he created and copy and paste it interminably. 'And it came to pass, that in the land of Shirtock, in the age of Krauadin, there came a great evil. And yea, a plucky young adventurer rose up with his misfit band of companions to defeat the evil. And yea, there was much battle and many orcs died, and the Biblical references were many, and the Christian subtext was plentiful, and the not-quite-blatant-but-still-obvious racism was ubiquitious. And in the end, the evil was defeated.' I love 'The Lord of the Rings', but aren't we to the point where we can move on? Can't we create something new while occasionally giving a nod to Mr. Tolkien without ripping him off wholesale? China Mieville seems to think so.

China has written a few books, but the only ones I've read (so far) are set in the world of Bas-Lag, a steampunk land. For those of you who don't know what steampunk is, look it up. I'll wait. Now, in the land of Bas-Lag there is a city by the name of New Crobuzon (or NC), a sprawling metropolis of squalor and filth. NC is a melting pot of dozens of different races and technologies. It's most equivalent to London, but it's populated with monsters. So I guess it's not different from London at all. Zing! Take that, you filthy tea-suckers. Why don't you go oppress the Irish some more while your teeth rot?

Anyway, the first book set in the world of Bas-Lag, 'Perdido Street Station', opens in this city. Our protagonist is a young, ambitious scientist by the name of Isaac Dan der Grimnebulin. He kinda reminds me of Ken, but he cusses. So, he's a scientist who is commissioned by a client to develop a way to fly without the help of any bulky instruments. He sets to work, ordering all manner of flying animals to dissect and study. He receives birds, insects, and even things that hover. Among all the creatures he receives is an exotic caterpillar he's never seen before. Fascinated, he keeps the creature and wonders what it will become. What it becomes is a nightmarish moth/humanoid that escapes to prowl the night skies and proceeds to feast on the minds of any thinking creature, rendering them completely catatonic forever. The city falls into a state of terror, the government declares martial law, and Isaac must undo what he has wrought.

That's as much as I'll say about the plot, since I can't do it justice with my limited vocabulary and loose grasp language Enlsgih the. Instead, I'll list a few of the things that are in Perdido Street Station and hope they entice you:
* I've mentioned how there are dozens of races of creatures in this city. They include giant plant people by the name of Cactacae who bleed sap from their spiny skin and have fibrous wood for bones, insect humanoids named Khepri who use their spit to create beautiful works of art, frog people (I can't remember the name and I don't want to look it up) who waddle around and are able to temporarily form water into shapes and objects, and humans who go by the name of humans. How wacky is that? Humans are silly.
* Soldiers who use Nazi tactics to brutalize citizens while wearing steam-powered suits that enhance their strength.
* The Remade: criminals who have been reformed by the city's crooked judges. How? Well, by being given extra limbs and mechanical parts. Examples: a mother who drowns her baby has the child's arms grafted to her face to always remind her of her crime, a thief who attempts to steal a statue of a bird is covered in ragged feathers and given a beak, scores of people have wheels and guns attached to them, and a prostitute has her hands and feet replaced with dog paws (for reasons I won't go into).
* Jack Half-A-Prayer: A serial killer/Robin Hood-figure who was remade with a giant mantis arm but turned it against his oppressors and now stalks the streets, dealing out his own brand of justice.
*A romantic relationship between a human and a khepri (the insect humanoids). The love scenes are quite interesting.
*A giant garbage robot who lives in a dump with his avatar, a reanimated corpse the robot controls and uses to speak to Isaac and his companions.
*A deity by the name of Jabber. This makes for some interesting curses. "Sweet Jabber!" "What the Jabber?" "Oh, Jabber f***!" "Godspit and Jabber!" And so on.

There's more, much more to this story than what I've put here. But I can't list them all, mostly because I'm drunk and about to pass out. Suffice it to say, China Mieville has revitalized the fantasy genre (much like Rowling did) and has made a fan out of me. If you're looking for a wonderful tale of adventure, horror, revenge, honor, and redemption, look no further than 'Perdido Street Station'. And then read 'The Scar' and 'Iron Council', not exactly sequels but still set in the same universe. You can thank me later by giving me your liver when mine craps out.


*Okay, this has bugged me for awhile and it's time to get it off my chest. What is the deal with all dwarves being men? Every single game, book, and movie I've seen there are only male dwarves. Where are the women? Do they have any? Are the dwarves just a race of overgrown boys who live in dark, deep mountains together and talk about how gross girls are? And if so, how do they reproduce? Asexually, like hydra polyps? At any rate, you know what happens when a ton of men are all alone together for extended periods of time. Gimli? More like Gayli, amiright?

The Logical Foundations of Constitutional Liberty

Well, I just finished reading what will undoubtedly go down as one of the most difficult 468 pages of my life. This book is intense, complicated, at times illegible, thoroughly incomprehensible to those not steeped in economic jargon and thinking (which I am not), and completely unenjoyable.
However, I have been meaning to read it for a year or so and having knocked it off my list of books to read before I die I have an intense feeling of satisfaction. I'll undoubtedly need to read it again when I get a doctorate in smart thinking or something but for now I shall brag to all and say that I have read a book far beyond the normal purview of the average reader. Yay me.

Some good quotes from this book,

"....the 19th and 20th century fallacy in political thought was embodied in the presumption that electoral requirements were in themselves sufficient to hold government's Leviathan-like proclivities in check, the presumption that, so long as there were constitutional guarantees for free and periodic elections, the range and extent of governmental action would be controlled."

"To the individual member of the effective majority, the political process provides a means through which he may secure private gain at the expense of other citizens....In the calculus of the individuals effectively making the final collective decision, marginal private benefits will tend to exceed marginal social benefits and/or marginal private costs will tend to fall short of marginal social costs....In essence, the value of a political vote in this model lies in its potential power to impose external costs on other members of the group. Externalities must be present in any solution reached by the voting process under all less-than-unanimity rules." (I thought that was a profound point. Your vote enables you to band with the majority to make someone in the minority pay for something disproportionate to their gain. hmmm....)

"Man wants liberty to become the man he wants to become....Man does not want liberty in order to maximize his utility (perceived gain), or that of the society of which he is a part. He wants liberty to become the man he wants to become."

The book is a methodological stepping towards justifying why men need to be free and have their freedom set in a constitutional manner, free of the arbitrary dictatorship of the majority. Its very very very complicated, so I'll definitely need to read it again at some future time when I am much smarter, but I must admit I learned something and it was worth the time spent reading.

The Past is Past

I hate Tess of the d’Urbervilles.

Admittedly, it had some large shoes to fill—after all, I just finished Brave New World, which has become an instant favorite. But it wasn’t just its failure to live up to Aldous Huxley that killed any love I may have for it. I disliked it for the following reasons:

-The main character (Tess) was weak and simpering—she made so many choices that just wanted me to tear my hair out in frustration. Her devotion to her husband, even when he was being a major d-bag to her, might be touching to some people, but it just made me want to throw up.

-For personal reasons, I detested the ending. I don’t want to give anything away, but if you read it, you will know why.

-It sucked two days of my life away—days I could have spent reading Shakespeare or Tolkien or a worthier author on my list.

Well, at least now I can say I’ve read it (bragging rights—my number one reason for reading most of what I read). If you are considering reading Tess, I will say that the narrative was gripping and startling in places, and Thomas Hardy’s commentary on society and religion was insightful. And I will admit, I did enjoy this quotation:

“The more intelligence a man has, the more one sees how unique every man is. Common people do not see what distinguishes one man from another.”

But other than that, Tess of the d’Urbervilles is, simply put, not my cup of tea.

The Fortune Of War

And here we are, #6 in the Master & Commander series, "The Fortune Of War". In it our beloved Captain Jack Aubrey and Stephen Maturin endure a series of setbacks that eventually land them in Boston during the War of 1812. More adventures follow, and I can't tell you how it ends, but it's oh so very exciting. It's different from the other books in that the majority of the story takes place on land and the sailing emphasis isn't quite there, but still, it's very enjoyable, and you end up hating the French more than you thought possible.

Dystopia and Shakespeare

“But I don’t want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.”

“In fact,” said Mustapha Mond, “you’re claiming the right to be unhappy.”

“All right then,” said the Savage defiantly, “I’m claiming the right to be unhappy.”

“Not to mention the right to grow old and ugly and impotent; the right to have syphilis and cancer; the right to have too little to eat; the right to be lousy; the right to live in constant apprehension of what may happen to-morrow, the right to catch typhoid, the right to be tortured by unspeakable pains of every kind.”

When I picked up Brave New World from the library, I was driven by a recommendation from Kenneth. My expectations were fair to middling—usually, I don’t go for dystopian-society books. Farenheit 451, Anthem, and 1984—while palatable—don’t quite tickle my fancy. The only thing I knew about the book at the time was that it was a futuristic story, and one of the characters had some sort of tie to Shakespeare.

Well, let me just sing the praises of Brave New World right away: it was awe-inspiring, thought-provoking, unadulterated amazing in book form. It is one of the few books that I plan on buying for myself, to secure a copy that I can read and mark up with my own personal notes; a rarity, considering how short on funds I am. I personally doubt that I will be able to give Brave New World the stirring recommendation it deserves, but I will try my best.

A brief synopsis of the story: in the distant future, much of society is operating under one World State. Natural breeding has been done away with. Lower caste children are conditioned to despise reading and nature and their growth is stunted, while higher caste children are allowed to grow and develop naturally; everyone is encouraged to consume (through hypnopedia). Promiscuity is the social norm; family units have been done away with altogether. An outsider called John the Savage, who was raised on a “Savage Reservation” in New Mexico, is introduced to this society—John is the son of a woman who mistakenly ended up spending her life on the savage reservation and only knows of this world what she has told him. Most of his learning has come from reading The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, and it is through this unique perspective that he sees this purposeless, empty society.

The most profound point that I felt arose from Brave New World was that of the purpose of man. In the society, there is only a sham of a religion (which rituals begin with heavy doses of soma, an ecstasy-inducing opiate, and end in orgies), and “happiness” is at everyone’s fingertips. Because “everyone belongs to everyone else,” no one ever loves someone they can’t have or feels the loss of a person they were attached too—it is freakish and anti-social to ever develop such a connection with other people. So, what is the purpose of man in this society? Answer: there is none. The pursuit of happiness is a joke, because they already have all the happiness they need—they are bred to be happy, bred to be content with their lives. They are never trying to improve themselves, because they believe that they are perfect as is—why fix something that isn’t broken? No one is striving to discover anything, there are no moral codes to live up to—their sole existence is made up of consuming, living in luxury, and then contributed phosphorus to the environment when they die. And when people lose their individual purposes, society ceases to produce truth and beauty. The conditions of the morality of the people are summed up perfectly by Mustapha Mond, the World Controller, as he is arguing with John the Savage:

“Stability isn’t nearly so spectacular as instability. And being contented has none of the glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness of a struggle with temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion or doubt. Happiness is never grand…Universal happiness keeps the wheels steadily turning; truth and beauty can’t. And, of course, whenever the masses seized political power, then it was happiness rather than truth and beauty that mattered.”

I have much, much more I can and want to say on this book, but this post is getting lengthy as is. So, I am sending out an open invitation for everyone to call me and chit-chat about Brave New World (Luke, I’m looking at you). We will philosophize and conjecture and spend our time developing our intellect.

In the meantime, let me just leave you with my favorite quote:

One of the principal functions of a friend is to suffer (in a milder and symbolic form) the punishments we should like, but unable, to inflict upon our enemies.

I don’t know why, but for some reason this quote just jumped right out to me. It made me laugh, but I also think that it’s true, on a subconscious level. What does this say about me, I wonder?

Thank You, Stumble Upon

So through the wonderful tool that is www.stumbleupon.com, I came across this website:

www.readprint.com

It is a website that contains books, broken down into their chapters, allowing you to read them online at your convenience. I know that most of us prefer to have a solid book in our hands when we read, but I think that this can be a useful tool in previewing possible books. The format they have put the chapters is similar to online news articles—easy to read.

I am going to probably be spending significant amounts of time perusing this site. Any worthy distraction from studying is welcome in these uncertain times, am I right?

Persuade me onto a new book cause this one's finished!!

So I blew through Persuasion pretty fast!! It was good. The transition from the Hunger Games to Persuasion was a little jolting and on the 4th page of conversations between the main character Anne and her sister or her sister's inlaws where she was the mediator, I almost gave up. But good ole Jane cut it off right at the breaking point, no joke one more line and I would have tossed the book, if she knew exactly how much her readers could take, props to her. I was indeed rewareded for my perserverence. Jane Austin knew what she was talking about! Her descriptions of the feelings and experiences associated with courtship are not only beautifully deliver but dead on, and this evidences that the game has changed little in 200 years. While she seems to follow a formula of main heroine being pretty though not the prettiest and finding her true power in intellect and good sense. The main squeeze man is blinded by pride which results in the book being over 60 pages, while he comes to his senses. And a psociopathic character makes an appearence, whose good manners hide a purely self-serving selfish nature.
Once the foundation was laid the book took off and it truely is amazing that although you know the two lovers will end up together in the end, you're still filled with suspense!
I'm now moving onto the Fountainhead. I turned to my shelf and couldn't decide between The Fountainhead and God Bless you Mr. Rosewater(based on Kelsen's Vonnegut enthusiasim) In the end I felt like the Fountainhead but if I'm not up to it I'll simply reverse my decision.

A Prayer for Owen Meany

A Prayer for Owen Meany (by John Irving) is the story of two boys, John Wheelwright and Owen Meany. John has a loving mother and stepfather but doesn’t know who his biological father is, Owen is unnaturally tiny and has damaged vocal cords, causing his voice to sound “wrecked” and almost freakish. Owen believes that God made him the way he was for a purpose—his faith in this is as unshakeable as his hatred for Catholics. The story is told from the perspective of a grown-up John as he relates his growing up as the best friend of Owen Meany.

Does this synopsis sound at all familiar to you? If so, then you, like me, have seen the film “Simon Birch”, which is based on parts of A Prayer for Owen Meany. When I first realized this, I got a little frustrated—all of the mystery and interesting plot points of the story had already been revealed to me, which sucked a lot of the pleasure out of reading, at least at first. However, “Simon Birch” shaved away a lot of elements of the original story, cut out the latter half, and completely changed the ending, so in the end I would say that watching the movie is in no way an adequate substitute for reading the book.

Why? Because A Prayer for Owen Meany is 617 pages of excellence. The story is gripping, complex, and nuanced, the dialogue is hilarious, the characters are both likeable and memorable. The biggest theme in Owen Meany is religious faith, the role of doubt, the hypocrisy of certain organized religions. I especially loved the sections of Owen’s hilarious conjecturing on God and his nature. My favorite quote from the book is this (Owen’s dialogue was always written in capital letters, due to the weird nature of his voice):

“THE POINT IS, GOD DOESN’T LOVE US BECAUSE WE’RE SMART OR BECAUSE WE’RE GOOD. WE’RE STUPID AND WE’RE BAD AND GOD LOVES US ANYWAY—JESUS ALREADY TOLD THE DUMB-S**T DISCIPLES WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN. ‘THE SON OF MAN WILL BE DELIVERED INTO THE HANDS OF MEN, AND THEY WILL KILL HIM…’ REMEMBER THAT WAS IN MARK—RIGHT?”

“Yes, but let’s not say ‘dumb-s**t disciples’ in class, Owen,” Mr. Merrill said…

Not only was A Prayer for Owen Meany enjoyable to read, it was a truly masterful work of interwoven facts and events that led up to a spectacular, almost tear-jerking conclusion. Little events or plot points show up later in the narrative, in completely unexpected ways—which I think is the novel’s biggest strength. However, it is by no means the novel’s only strength. The commentary on American society was also witty, interesting, and insightful:

“THE ONLY WAY YOU CAN GET AMERICANS TO NOTICE ANYTHING IS TO TAX THEM OR DRAFT THEM OR KILL THEM,” Owen said.

But I didn’t come to Canada to be a smart-ass American; and Canon Campbell told me that most smart-ass Canadians tend to move to the United States.

I will tell you what is my overriding perception of the last twenty years: that we are a civilization careening toward a succession of anticlimaxes—toward an infinity of unsatisfying and disagreeable endings.

I enjoyed A Prayer for Owen Meany so fully and completely—I will readily recommend it to anyone. It was enjoyable and thought-provoking and utterly satisfying.

Next up is probably Tess of D’Urbervilles or Brave New World, and hopefully Jesus the Christ over the break. As John Wheelwright says near the end of Owen Meany: “My life is a reading list.”

a translation please?

i dare someone to translate this:

"I hae your bukes....As a wee bairn McLean first skelpit a mickle whaup his Daddie had whangit wi a stane, and then ilka beastie that came his way...."

And so it Begins

Meditation: A contemplative discourse, usually on a religious or philosophical subject.

So it begins, the last day of your life. Do we have any idea when our last day, last hour, last minute, last second has come? Is it a surprise? Will we be doing something heroic? I propose a question that you may or may not have thought about before, "How do you want to be remembered when you leave this mortal world?"

Eddie was a theme park maintenance man at Ruby Pier. His beginning starts at the end or should I say the end of his life. It was his 83rd birthday and he had finished his morning routine and began reflecting about the first time he had met his wife. Which just so happened to be the same place he worked. During this beautifully depicted mental imagery he is interrupted by screams, and not by one of those thrill seeking, throw your hands in the air kind. But by blood curdling shrills. He sat up and saw the drop tower ride stuck hundreds of feet in the air. He and the other workers devise a plan to get the riders stuck at the top down to safety. In their attempts Eddie realizes a cable in the ride had been shredded. He tries to communicate his new found assumption but his voice is drowned out by the roar of the crowd. The workers up top release the emergency brakes and the car begins its plummet to earth. In the midst of this drop Eddie spots a young girl below the cart. He rushes to this child in an attempt to save her life.....

And so it begins, the start of Eddie's heavenly life.

(I will post more about this book later)

Return of The Dark Knight

Let me set the stage for you, to show you the circumstances that led me to The Dark Knight Returns: I got off work on Wednesday night, and made my miserable way to the library to work on my final Theater presentation. I’d like to say that this presentation is a thorn in my side, but it is more akin to a poisonous javelin shoved through my kidneys. Through various means, I came across The Dark Knight Returns, a graphic novel by Frank Miller which I’ve been meaning to read. I decided to keep it on the desk as I worked and maybe read it intermittently.

Let me say a thing or two about comic books: they’re always over-the-top. They’re bright, they’re usually ridiculously violent, and they retain a certain childish quality, no matter how “dark” or “gritty” they profess to be. I never feel like a great intellectual when I read them. However, reading comic books makes me happy in a very pure, youthful way, and The Dark Knight Returns was no exception.

The story is this: Bruce Wayne has been retirement for twenty years, a retirement that was prompted by the death of his sidekick Robin, and Gotham City has fallen into near-mayhem. A gang that calls themselves The Mutants is slowly chipping away at Gotham’s fragile government and police force, and, with seventy-year-old Jim Gordon on the brink of retirement, there is little hope for the citizens of the collapsing city. Bruce Wayne is a borderline alcoholic and is haunted by his past mistakes and his parents’ death. Finally, the constant pressure snaps him, and he takes up the cape again, fighting the heinous crime of Gotham and fighting his personal demons.

The Dark Knight Returns is certainly one of the best graphic novels I have read. It was dark, yet entertaining; it contained a host of familiar Batman characters (including the Joker); and there is an amazing fight scene contained within the pages that is quite literally a comic book fan’s dream. I don’t want to give anything away, but let me just say this: consider my mind to be blown.

Do I feel more intelligent after reading this book? No, I can’t say I do. But it did give me some much-needed relief from a wretched week, and it also offered respite from my other literary exploit of the time, A Prayer for Owen Meany (which is good, but over 600 pages, 30% of which is a rant about how corrupt Ronald Reagan was).

look below!

i saved a post i meant to write a long time ago, but it is below! look and comment!

The Pillars of the Earth

The example I eluded to of a fantastic book that was unfortunatly picked up by Oprah, or at least her army of slave readers who actually read the books and setup the book o' month mumbo jumbo, was The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follet. It was amazing! The center of the story is a cathedral which is being built. As this takes a long time the characters come in and out and you experience each of their own stories. A few characters you see born and then grow into old age, all while the cathedral is being built. It touches on the the economic impact and significance of a cathedral in those times and the descriptive language in first rate. Transporting you to medival times in a way Ivanhoe certainly never did.