tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-176241762024-03-15T21:12:56.251-04:00circular breathing<i>Talk not with scorn of Authors- it was the chattering of the Geese that saved the Capitol.</i> Coleridge<br>
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<b><a href="http://www.seanenright.com">www.seanenright.com</a></b>
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<b><a href="http://seanenright.blogspot.com">seanenright.blogspot.com</a></b>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.comBlogger905125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-67732380753689374792024-03-12T08:37:00.002-04:002024-03-12T08:37:23.389-04:00The Dud Avocado by Elaine Dundy<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlkjh5LsP4BToYF-oPvvPAjqATsBHusZlPLnZ_QgL98YRcWq_06oeQNSXAXp1rZFkLb1TuYbvimzDcXcSjCcRfRXHbtiVGnOwbMbepWjjGIEWR_BDWPxLKGrcgHQnxCdPL58Q50VSPCb3HU3VJkifL5N2iC04HNt8UHbZOPAnYX8ouZI80d6swdw/s1200/the-dud-avocado.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="749" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlkjh5LsP4BToYF-oPvvPAjqATsBHusZlPLnZ_QgL98YRcWq_06oeQNSXAXp1rZFkLb1TuYbvimzDcXcSjCcRfRXHbtiVGnOwbMbepWjjGIEWR_BDWPxLKGrcgHQnxCdPL58Q50VSPCb3HU3VJkifL5N2iC04HNt8UHbZOPAnYX8ouZI80d6swdw/s320/the-dud-avocado.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-36281385503108574352024-03-05T11:21:00.003-05:002024-03-12T08:40:20.714-04:00Time for the Stars by Robert A. Heinlein<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7zehPD6R89k5D_pL9wJjVzyeQDqGrJm5_9kofdhsRxK2u8G5uSs552Xq8krtB6WEUSFvXhglAzr9nTQ_-ODs1TEOg0agJsxBsyVKPVIJVSyQ1WxG7njdH1pcfOJWcATjYStJvO8ZKEm83X8suvPTaz8ymqqPispCwk8aH78SVMlciFmmOVPLaPg/s1000/time-for-the-stars.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="608" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7zehPD6R89k5D_pL9wJjVzyeQDqGrJm5_9kofdhsRxK2u8G5uSs552Xq8krtB6WEUSFvXhglAzr9nTQ_-ODs1TEOg0agJsxBsyVKPVIJVSyQ1WxG7njdH1pcfOJWcATjYStJvO8ZKEm83X8suvPTaz8ymqqPispCwk8aH78SVMlciFmmOVPLaPg/s320/time-for-the-stars.jpg" width="195" /></a></div>Pairs of twins on earth are trained as telepathic modes of communication: one will embark on space travel and the other will stay earthside, and together they will transmit news and updates instantaneously across a trillion miles. Time, however, will pass more slowly for the twin travelling through space at a speed just below the speed of light, making for uneasy relationships between twins who started out the same age but end up vastly separated by time AND space. Interesting although not much happens.<p></p>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-7903549943903073992024-02-19T12:54:00.005-05:002024-03-05T11:19:46.988-05:00Tune In: The Beatles: All These Years Vol. 1 by Mark Lewisohn<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaxLaYVOmmrkEaIcpXY5zk_no-ObRyETvnu9NdqizXXt6xmmkLaU0h57uIiScGlSSTVRiXZVuYyCMQPqzbq70sVj9-7xpjdQkX_n3xhi2kJhfv2_qmXYiOOfGTn0edN8risLrN6M6ARP_ttCuf1d4NPmfZVESeub7NaBbA7kHg1ZzUkQdvGJ9xQA/s1200/beatles-tune-in.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="795" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaxLaYVOmmrkEaIcpXY5zk_no-ObRyETvnu9NdqizXXt6xmmkLaU0h57uIiScGlSSTVRiXZVuYyCMQPqzbq70sVj9-7xpjdQkX_n3xhi2kJhfv2_qmXYiOOfGTn0edN8risLrN6M6ARP_ttCuf1d4NPmfZVESeub7NaBbA7kHg1ZzUkQdvGJ9xQA/s320/beatles-tune-in.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>Riveting, deeply detailed group biography of the Beatles, from their Liverpool origins and childhood, right up until the beginning of 1963, when the release of "Please Please Me" is about to launch them into a stratosphere of pop celebrity which had never been seen before.<p></p><div>Their intertwined lives - how they grew up just minutes and miles from each other - are richly described.</div><div><br /></div><div>Cannot wait for Vol. 2.</div>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-36460208048819118102024-02-13T08:58:00.004-05:002024-02-13T08:58:51.239-05:00Orphans of the Sky by Robert Heinlein<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggXUOIXldFYDp3LmERp46GS-k2LF5JIAPfdndERFiyQhIeB2u3zBwEoK4zUP-k6owsDMIovP6H9_7cgn3jcvRO26vhxP1qYUFlM9y0XZ2bPndbphjH19WtO-7azyjq5ba3GdsVAfL6hBUO8xx9IpyEZI9pSd07xh93QHX1uvxUs3y_1nGit32PRw/s1500/orphans-of-sky.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="915" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggXUOIXldFYDp3LmERp46GS-k2LF5JIAPfdndERFiyQhIeB2u3zBwEoK4zUP-k6owsDMIovP6H9_7cgn3jcvRO26vhxP1qYUFlM9y0XZ2bPndbphjH19WtO-7azyjq5ba3GdsVAfL6hBUO8xx9IpyEZI9pSd07xh93QHX1uvxUs3y_1nGit32PRw/s320/orphans-of-sky.jpg" width="195" /></a></div>Continuing my sci-fi jaunt through the mesmerizing imagination and intelligence of Robert Heinlein. A marooned "generational spaceship" is a complicated mini-world where the diverse population has forgotten the reason for the original journey from Earth to a distant star system, and reverted to a primitive (if still high-technology) culture and belief system.<p></p>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-2659382013179783192024-02-13T08:55:00.010-05:002024-03-05T11:17:13.936-05:00Tom Lake by Ann Patchett<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK1TtxPYOCiEdJy9_Uekr3cIj1tb8o1bcr7EcOvIY8cjrxjdmHEIAIZ1RM-BkTnWCMNuCjerD3yB1DxsKgxyNPzhWzP_1ybdFmokwzOvhTVi1sz58z_MS6HVg9vRrqMDJSAaIc4I4hSga7X3rbacgrSOkwfWUQlzC2R30dM1VjSPo3mc9242w3jA/s1500/tom-lake.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="994" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK1TtxPYOCiEdJy9_Uekr3cIj1tb8o1bcr7EcOvIY8cjrxjdmHEIAIZ1RM-BkTnWCMNuCjerD3yB1DxsKgxyNPzhWzP_1ybdFmokwzOvhTVi1sz58z_MS6HVg9vRrqMDJSAaIc4I4hSga7X3rbacgrSOkwfWUQlzC2R30dM1VjSPo3mc9242w3jA/s320/tom-lake.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>Okay but seemed to take forever to finish. A wife and mother relaxes on her cherry orchard in Michigan and recounts, half to her three daughters and half to herself, the story of her young life and career as an aspiring actress. The play OUR TOWN is the palimpsest behind it all, which she starred in, although she also has a brief fling as a rising Hollywood actress too.<p></p><div>The tone is rather smug and self-satisfied and wearing, although the on- and off-state drama and the characters of a summer stock theatre are richly drawn.</div>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-75246466688787014172024-02-13T08:55:00.004-05:002024-02-13T08:55:28.561-05:00Beyond the Bedroom Wall by Larry Woiwode<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCrPZSAmCrMHTl-JVVmx6E0zleHo-d1kJt9uGrxiW_8dAdD3vIvyll3J5fCdAksivcy87VMmB8JQiC6DXdqcimklAohbd8czlEmVKjGuHh8KlTQFcOvV07IANy5KJDEXCK69Yiy3_g2iIxCye42b9SXwzlGzx5XozAiyYXc2uh5a-iPbA9NEPhmA/s500/beyond-bedroom-wall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="335" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCrPZSAmCrMHTl-JVVmx6E0zleHo-d1kJt9uGrxiW_8dAdD3vIvyll3J5fCdAksivcy87VMmB8JQiC6DXdqcimklAohbd8czlEmVKjGuHh8KlTQFcOvV07IANy5KJDEXCK69Yiy3_g2iIxCye42b9SXwzlGzx5XozAiyYXc2uh5a-iPbA9NEPhmA/s320/beyond-bedroom-wall.jpg" width="214" /></a></div>Astonishing and I'm only two chapters (100 pages in). A stunning opening where a son makes his father's coffin out of scratch.<p></p>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-34125277486394755982024-01-28T11:13:00.004-05:002024-02-07T09:01:50.195-05:00Who I Am by Pete Townshend<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL6IvmQHWSu7AMWxHCmW5GVQmq9cudKObB-kCJRiq_sRlzjfxEE4q_mTNL5Y-TbeGca0V68SdepgtVdCvPNgDBMhlqJ9mnKv8Iq0BuxTzGzRuVbOsaw84XrrZNMTNkBLL8zMnCcYNMwY0Vao9M3BxEKMy34fQbRMIhjysG7-JrqDFIiFCYjLVpSw/s648/townshend.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="648" data-original-width="432" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL6IvmQHWSu7AMWxHCmW5GVQmq9cudKObB-kCJRiq_sRlzjfxEE4q_mTNL5Y-TbeGca0V68SdepgtVdCvPNgDBMhlqJ9mnKv8Iq0BuxTzGzRuVbOsaw84XrrZNMTNkBLL8zMnCcYNMwY0Vao9M3BxEKMy34fQbRMIhjysG7-JrqDFIiFCYjLVpSw/s320/townshend.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>A complex character. Rushed to read this after reading the infamous DEAR BOY autobiography of Keith Moon, who was certainly the heart and blood of The Who. But the astonishing songs, the soul of the band, are almost all Townshend's - and cover such a range from 1963 to 1978 as to almost beggar belief.<p></p><div><br /></div><div>All these guys also grew up - and were navigating the end of the 1960s and early 1970s in their early 30s at best, barely matured in one sense, and having seen it all (and more) in another.</div><div><br /></div><div>And what a band! The Who have been accurately described as a band with four lead soloists - and Moon's idiosyncratic wild and powerful drumming leads the way, along with Townshend's amazing melodic and rhythmic guitar, Entwhistle's foundational (and extremely melodic) bass playing ("Thunderfingers"), and Daltrey's central, powerful roaring voice.</div><div><br /></div><div>Townshend's voice is strange - defensive, arrogant, slightly delusional (he invented the Internet, power chords, rock opera, among other things) - and his spiritual pursuits are foregrounded while his sexual mishaps are glossed over.</div><div><br /></div><div>Still, an extraordinary musician and mind - the Beatles had three great songwriters, the Stones had two, but The Who had one, and they still stand in the same ring as those other greats of the pantheon. Dylan is different - he stands apart from any one band. The 1960s singles, The Who Sell Out, Tommy, Who's Next, and Quadrophenia are all five star albums. The Who played and stayed live in a way the Beatles never did.</div>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-47714826896525057692024-01-23T08:43:00.003-05:002024-02-07T09:02:34.818-05:00The Mark and the Void by Paul Murray<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3CIt9VAl8ndnhEta8JA8OKf_PgB6s1w8KrSHNA2VXQ38CmBWJbj7V7Crt4Ni-Y6_BwzrxFzqoYb2xKjwG3O6EVq4RQ02kdbCcBvm84g8iLiZwHtSnVCKgDfbOTGpPJbHv5FIcxga9xXrpZppOP8qT44ErXDx8d81NtpS9kp_h6XIOKrJaK3ceFA/s500/mark-and-void.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="333" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3CIt9VAl8ndnhEta8JA8OKf_PgB6s1w8KrSHNA2VXQ38CmBWJbj7V7Crt4Ni-Y6_BwzrxFzqoYb2xKjwG3O6EVq4RQ02kdbCcBvm84g8iLiZwHtSnVCKgDfbOTGpPJbHv5FIcxga9xXrpZppOP8qT44ErXDx8d81NtpS9kp_h6XIOKrJaK3ceFA/s320/mark-and-void.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Meh, couldn't finish it. Big fan of Murray's but here it seemingly goes nowhere (at least after a hundred pages).<p></p>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-1642441325638207522024-01-18T10:50:00.008-05:002024-02-07T08:35:05.762-05:00Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert Heinlein<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimZlnzzLbsgw-_nGRkC3NpZljp_XZgoYWNpAjitTVcAnYZtJZ_0JjUY3St5pobOxhek2H9Jz-oexG5MMuT49_t2IKL7Wt4EHgwk9USgzho4SDFugZiZr9Bx3gHTl2n69XD1B6hz3yrh3SuXDlXbTtVV55T27nOrW-XeVsobLyldddhOIQLq-C59w/s1737/stranger-heinlein.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1737" data-original-width="1047" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimZlnzzLbsgw-_nGRkC3NpZljp_XZgoYWNpAjitTVcAnYZtJZ_0JjUY3St5pobOxhek2H9Jz-oexG5MMuT49_t2IKL7Wt4EHgwk9USgzho4SDFugZiZr9Bx3gHTl2n69XD1B6hz3yrh3SuXDlXbTtVV55T27nOrW-XeVsobLyldddhOIQLq-C59w/s320/stranger-heinlein.jpg" width="193" /></a></div>Vivid memories of reading this as a teenager, I'm remembering complete sentences (at least in the first 50 pages, did I read the whole thing?).<p></p><div>It's got a bit of a cheesy late fifties-early sixties vibe, some of the slang and the general misogyny.</div><div><br /></div><div>But Heinlein deftly imagines an interplanetary and advanced future and how a human born and raised on Mars (by Martians) might be welcomed on earth. The concept of "grokking" (i.e., knowing fully, but also sexual consummating and cannibalism) was unleashed upon an unknowing America, and one must still only wonder at how many people have actually read the book as opposed to how many use the term "grok" fluently.</div><div><br /></div><div>Too long and too polemical, the action really dries up in the (lengthy) middle of the book. Still, a fascinating novel of ideas.</div>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-1968573657841347982024-01-12T15:21:00.005-05:002024-01-28T11:09:36.043-05:00Prophet Song by Paul Lynch<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGpMYEO8Aphmxwnn0Q24NOOrevFhNoSAErSIQ-9fQ26D1PBCS9oCdqGtZGXTN1ihHiIC1J8kArmDvj-UPZWp5lgmV8g7ux3Rgs-rUyBJLeK8V6v-0hkwT2tXbotrAXeitWSVc3kCKi8Ps3gajQ_MkVC8TdCbjHFebSIGUpQxl4q1aRs1Jlc24MpQ/s466/prophet-song.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="466" data-original-width="293" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGpMYEO8Aphmxwnn0Q24NOOrevFhNoSAErSIQ-9fQ26D1PBCS9oCdqGtZGXTN1ihHiIC1J8kArmDvj-UPZWp5lgmV8g7ux3Rgs-rUyBJLeK8V6v-0hkwT2tXbotrAXeitWSVc3kCKi8Ps3gajQ_MkVC8TdCbjHFebSIGUpQxl4q1aRs1Jlc24MpQ/s320/prophet-song.jpg" width="201" /></a></div>Not loving it so far - and don't understand why it's so critically beloved. Lynch's prose style is hyperconscious about protagonist Eilis's perception of physical micro-movements, and natural description is pregnant with metaphoric foreshadowing.<p></p><div>Maybe it will change and grow on me, I'm only a third of the way through.</div><div><br /></div><div>Disappointing. Difficult slog as Lynch doesn't use paragraphs or quotation marks and prose bludgeoned me. Not that he is untalented -- and not that I wasn't moved in parts - but overall didn't care for it.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>... and she can see that the world does not end, that it is vanity to think the world will end during your lifetime in some sudden event, that what ends is you life and only your life...</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>... and the prophet sings not of the end of the world but of what has been done and what will be done and what is being done to some but not to others, that the world is always ending over and over again in one place but not another and that end of the world is always a local event... [304]</i></div>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-76811341474164342652024-01-02T11:01:00.004-05:002024-01-17T15:51:22.243-05:00The Moon is a Harsh Mistress by Robert A. Heinlein<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhucGX_nM-viewGaWi_7RFkKJOpHALk-E8xg2bU4qBUAy_QTosHfslA74UUisEwF5psFC0S6kOesOuU6q1VilVWZxkLK4w22YbECDVaW3O9BfklYxgVPpeV37862-mUH2tM4_VZ3_qTHQ0tTJ-EU8_GAYtv9K_tHsa-6ojz5irWp9gfJeEw8WUZnA/s500/moon-mistress.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="309" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhucGX_nM-viewGaWi_7RFkKJOpHALk-E8xg2bU4qBUAy_QTosHfslA74UUisEwF5psFC0S6kOesOuU6q1VilVWZxkLK4w22YbECDVaW3O9BfklYxgVPpeV37862-mUH2tM4_VZ3_qTHQ0tTJ-EU8_GAYtv9K_tHsa-6ojz5irWp9gfJeEw8WUZnA/s320/moon-mistress.jpg" width="198" /></a></div>Great, surprising book. Mike the Computer alone is worth it, for Heinlein's witty fortelling of artificial intelligence. And the political discussion is bracing an intelligent, swirling around the Moon's struggle for independence from the Earth -- a lunar population descended from convicts and conscripts banished from the mother planet -- the political discussion covers democracy, autocracy, libertarianism, and anarchy.<p></p>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-42248173092305778002024-01-02T11:00:00.004-05:002024-01-18T10:46:42.876-05:00Dear Boy: The Life of Keith Moon by Tony Fletcher<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6TZSpTvBS90YniR3Y6ig6tVNzrLIrWridsEZ6VN7UIWICulvRQJrPQrwQznYE8I8toq6P6NpSk3TKgzrjCaaxGs8our7Vod-DEbjfWxnRwLaAdqi46QDl-yD-q-oGYYRdHpFYu3cH1tEYSxJnBiaB5tIRNAnLP4Lhwgr5FZxth_upZwsO6ZMuVg/s500/dear-boy.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="326" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6TZSpTvBS90YniR3Y6ig6tVNzrLIrWridsEZ6VN7UIWICulvRQJrPQrwQznYE8I8toq6P6NpSk3TKgzrjCaaxGs8our7Vod-DEbjfWxnRwLaAdqi46QDl-yD-q-oGYYRdHpFYu3cH1tEYSxJnBiaB5tIRNAnLP4Lhwgr5FZxth_upZwsO6ZMuVg/s320/dear-boy.jpg" width="209" /></a></div>Jammed with good details - particularly music, TV and film references -- but overwritten and I generally hate Fletcher's effusive and emotive and melodramatic prose.<p></p>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-47634608865929576652023-12-24T07:25:00.003-05:002024-01-02T11:02:19.147-05:00The Comedians by Graham Greene<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVKmPZpKt-GDmyAYIHbz0LRFHZMQfJizCnmchppNMFoOvLqdiDSe_DAKwu0WyfiNM5q4zaOjaMDYTDP0cVdTUTyFpHSeSpsa6uU9UDY0j5-ZAaXnZxgXfXwiF51O46afR-NvY-rNiS6u1DTMkptVff5jOTpWlfztPfHL6h_fx2OuATediN37F0rg/s500/IMG_2671.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="326" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVKmPZpKt-GDmyAYIHbz0LRFHZMQfJizCnmchppNMFoOvLqdiDSe_DAKwu0WyfiNM5q4zaOjaMDYTDP0cVdTUTyFpHSeSpsa6uU9UDY0j5-ZAaXnZxgXfXwiF51O46afR-NvY-rNiS6u1DTMkptVff5jOTpWlfztPfHL6h_fx2OuATediN37F0rg/s320/IMG_2671.jpeg" width="209" /></a></div><br />Strange, second-tier Greene, but his prose style is as piercing and evocative ever. A doomed love affair struggles for breath in the shadow of Duvalier's Haiti in the early 1960s.<p></p>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-83879953053996270832023-12-24T07:23:00.004-05:002024-01-23T08:53:14.218-05:00Joe Gould’s Secret by Joseph Mitchell<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3WN9RlupDztwWYbHd58PE6mdtkhBTOYzMq9rNfEkreF6MeoQWsPfZlT4TUGKD2omCV6u6664NCczTdHPTAykA0U3bRVJliG3HDd7zxrkq3NPy_KFnHhKRuwwN5ELV2kzzB-k8pEIQSQFsYsSkmeQ97Ycbzt0daymyu_VjtqlLNqRUwJG4RFX5zA/s630/IMG_2670.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="413" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3WN9RlupDztwWYbHd58PE6mdtkhBTOYzMq9rNfEkreF6MeoQWsPfZlT4TUGKD2omCV6u6664NCczTdHPTAykA0U3bRVJliG3HDd7zxrkq3NPy_KFnHhKRuwwN5ELV2kzzB-k8pEIQSQFsYsSkmeQ97Ycbzt0daymyu_VjtqlLNqRUwJG4RFX5zA/s320/IMG_2670.jpeg" width="210" /></a></div>Good long short memoir about an eccentric Greenwich Village character in the 1940s and 1950 who claimed to be writing an oral history of modern world but turned out to be doing not so much, simply revising again and again the same several chapters of his own early life. But how he was lovingly supported by hundreds of intellectuals and others in Manhattan, and cherished for his oddness.<p></p><div>Driven to this by my reading of the Harry Smith bio of Szwed, as Smith and Gould share many similarities.</div>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-44428821108602234772023-12-17T13:13:00.003-05:002023-12-30T10:07:50.266-05:00Cosmic Scholar: The Life and Times of Harry Smith by John Szwed<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWDaGvWBFtUAW2UDuCwkEwuL3V-uoBW8j4bmTfu1hQ26p7soGqsNgdeWM6nWPmOjCIj1YVSbyBXhkhBY1Fqr2x3Mm22tC95v6kNjh_UOAa00on0_2wEAmsJYXrBQ-qaPWxE5BSysXRno452c-uqX6MWTT4V5Y2SQJBw0_ouQzzmz-AuhaeXCSR_Q/s1500/cosmic-scholar.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWDaGvWBFtUAW2UDuCwkEwuL3V-uoBW8j4bmTfu1hQ26p7soGqsNgdeWM6nWPmOjCIj1YVSbyBXhkhBY1Fqr2x3Mm22tC95v6kNjh_UOAa00on0_2wEAmsJYXrBQ-qaPWxE5BSysXRno452c-uqX6MWTT4V5Y2SQJBw0_ouQzzmz-AuhaeXCSR_Q/s320/cosmic-scholar.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Early Abstractions films: various soundtracks added by various people.<p></p><div>The Critic, Ernest Pintoff, short comedy film, Mel Brooks voiceover.</div><div><br /></div><div>Heaven and Earth Magic.</div><div><br /></div><div>HS Mahagonny: based on Brecht/Weill opera, The Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny</div><div><br /></div><div>Compo, Seven Flute Solos: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nWuFrgzxukc</div><div><br /></div><div>Shirley Clarke, documentary film maker. <i>Bridges-Go-Round, The Connection, The Cool World, Kaleidoscope (w/ HS)</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>HS paper airplane collection: https://www.amazon.com/Paper-Airplanes-Collections-Catalogue-Raisonn%C3%A9/dp/0989531139</div><div><br /></div><div>shape note/sacred harp records</div><div><br /></div><div><i>John Fahey summary of contents of HS Anthology of Folk Music: "The evidence is in the shakedown."[169\</i></div><div><br /></div><div>HS on what his collections meant: <i>It is a way of fooling away the time, harmlessly as possible. [271]</i></div><div><br /></div><div><i>Make a person think they think and they love you; make them think, and they hate you." [ 332]</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>HS on "automatic synchronization" of his films--</div><div><i>Fred Camper: ... as I was sitting on the floor near a stack of records, [Harry Smith] said, "Hey, you, pick a record, any record." Without looking... I passed the first record on the stack up to him. He looked at it and aid, "You idiot, not </i>that <i>record." [97]</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Duchamp, The Bride Stripped Bare by Her Bachelors, Even</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg7g6QR16KtX_B4aRCTNSPf33vNAeQcOLA9k0dd5MKSKABOeL0KLCKstJYjHhrKGsAwfrFLYKIDNQIXVWtf1bNDF32xcQSK35iNEdYPhcb0nGQO-kycVCcy-V0JvkAbrQoK4OETQWYE-lYqbhJ2aS1UHp8TfX_PVpccfYu8Ju5Bftl9T4v39Cq3oQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="562" data-original-width="870" height="324" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg7g6QR16KtX_B4aRCTNSPf33vNAeQcOLA9k0dd5MKSKABOeL0KLCKstJYjHhrKGsAwfrFLYKIDNQIXVWtf1bNDF32xcQSK35iNEdYPhcb0nGQO-kycVCcy-V0JvkAbrQoK4OETQWYE-lYqbhJ2aS1UHp8TfX_PVpccfYu8Ju5Bftl9T4v39Cq3oQ=w501-h324" width="501" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgMIXNNsiY-Im5dOZW8RC1P-KKciB8XQwMK4GeL7rGYHFfbuRYX_LRpyfylJoTINx7-mSSpiLzTmDKs9_-LGf2chUsQ43lZEeuIbbt649xRNg0Ix8oYAcr-MSV-DA7xB0Zw1skZGl4Caw-8K2g0WZkTOKU74uc-ZRstjcz6tgwF3lae83oR-Vkl4A" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="750" height="627" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgMIXNNsiY-Im5dOZW8RC1P-KKciB8XQwMK4GeL7rGYHFfbuRYX_LRpyfylJoTINx7-mSSpiLzTmDKs9_-LGf2chUsQ43lZEeuIbbt649xRNg0Ix8oYAcr-MSV-DA7xB0Zw1skZGl4Caw-8K2g0WZkTOKU74uc-ZRstjcz6tgwF3lae83oR-Vkl4A=w501-h627" width="501" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /></i></div>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-24361764349819726112023-12-17T13:12:00.003-05:002024-01-23T08:46:50.202-05:00Drowning: The Rescue of Flight 1421 by T.J.Newman<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsi2uBco97Qx2sCZrF73P-EbV3R-VM4-Co2-gwdVqMPjjKslEwDJRoW4Lkqj7wr0rZQASLPVx4Ja0WUwhDQHzGd57dwUcT1-mkz7vT1NF7DvReES0kyQwMc8wyEo71bTKPmlyYTsPSBDsIGlg_f_T4x2ukkIHhIuEOSXNSE_6sxlKJqBFu_WPoFw/s1500/drowning.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="987" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsi2uBco97Qx2sCZrF73P-EbV3R-VM4-Co2-gwdVqMPjjKslEwDJRoW4Lkqj7wr0rZQASLPVx4Ja0WUwhDQHzGd57dwUcT1-mkz7vT1NF7DvReES0kyQwMc8wyEo71bTKPmlyYTsPSBDsIGlg_f_T4x2ukkIHhIuEOSXNSE_6sxlKJqBFu_WPoFw/s320/drowning.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>Cheesy, breathy, melodramatic page-turner about the intricate rescue effort of survivors on a jet that crashes moments after its takeoff from Hawaii. A handful of passengers stay inside the plane when it sinks, surviving in a precarious air bubble. (The rest of the passengers, who evacuated on the surface, drown or burn to death.)<p></p><div>Compelling but sort of empty and by-the-numbers characters.</div>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-89190997745774709422023-12-12T09:58:00.002-05:002023-12-12T09:58:27.297-05:00Once and Forever: The Tales of Kenji Miyazawa<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWAF2PhQgV6ZgpBEnak20y-9QNwT0SS_XUuDpaAWlaRjUmB6iN8c5_Ba0T03mURe_P1cJ7RaI6mWUoNzKmxIA4jby64p8dfVArArDYcG1NQYYtLMwK12RMhyphenhyphenPoRPpNq-qtLs49AGvG6omPcx_mJwcxDfbwsKDlilhIAljMRaN3ZilcI91YJkTptg/s1500/once-and-forever.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="938" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWAF2PhQgV6ZgpBEnak20y-9QNwT0SS_XUuDpaAWlaRjUmB6iN8c5_Ba0T03mURe_P1cJ7RaI6mWUoNzKmxIA4jby64p8dfVArArDYcG1NQYYtLMwK12RMhyphenhyphenPoRPpNq-qtLs49AGvG6omPcx_mJwcxDfbwsKDlilhIAljMRaN3ZilcI91YJkTptg/s320/once-and-forever.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-90987166290642443112023-12-12T09:57:00.004-05:002023-12-13T09:55:57.300-05:00The Invention of Morel by Adolfo Bioy Casares<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIacX68P8-nrYizTYtIo6Tex_N_cQB4bQhK5oCAZAt96WGs_aJamjDQqWlFtBOtilwaPwtvzJeOc7ZZ9FxPzqKXEBU0g9vA9tcUZDP7AajWMpiWcWW6TP9rJJo5xCAOgKERTI8JbZbJN6WHB5wi8SmweP9udBZvDWUzk7SSI9z4AqHbWRD5AOqMw/s1500/invention-of-morel.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="938" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIacX68P8-nrYizTYtIo6Tex_N_cQB4bQhK5oCAZAt96WGs_aJamjDQqWlFtBOtilwaPwtvzJeOc7ZZ9FxPzqKXEBU0g9vA9tcUZDP7AajWMpiWcWW6TP9rJJo5xCAOgKERTI8JbZbJN6WHB5wi8SmweP9udBZvDWUzk7SSI9z4AqHbWRD5AOqMw/s320/invention-of-morel.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Bizarre surreal 1940 novella by a Borges acolyte. A fugitive (a writer?) on a remote island begins seeing visions of buildings and people, and overhearing their conversations (they cannot see or hear him), and he falls in love with a woman he sees. Running off to wikipedia to figure out the rest of it.<div><br /></div><div><i>I believe we lost immortality because we have not conquered our opposition to death; we keep insisting on the primary, rudimentary idea: that the whole body should be kept alive. We should seek to preserve only that part that has to do with consciousness. </i>[14]</div><div><br /></div><div><i>All that I have written about my life -- hopefully or with apprehension, in jest or seriously -- mortifies me. I am in a bad state of mind. It seems for a long time I have known that everything I do is wrong, and yet I have kept on the same way, stupidly, obstinately. </i>[34]</div><div><p></p><div><i>... when one is alone it is impossible to be dead. </i>[54]</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-64744208186082636492023-12-08T09:56:00.003-05:002023-12-17T13:09:41.915-05:00The People Immortal by Vasiliĭ Grossman<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ8TgLSSWprbbWXlIZ7xbRBmKx6JX3qPR-2XJ2qZNxW8yMr9NC5PR3Ws2_rFXLqEOIoD7CFpx91LVpgO01gJOrX1nn5rHW9eZwC1wST2O6npkxK59TP0dvvPZJuwMSobkMMZOLqCeqWPcm7SlBanr_ISV8zR-GWZWrD9F3KJP_Ntj5dxTxIvPx-g/s1500/the-people-immortal.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="975" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ8TgLSSWprbbWXlIZ7xbRBmKx6JX3qPR-2XJ2qZNxW8yMr9NC5PR3Ws2_rFXLqEOIoD7CFpx91LVpgO01gJOrX1nn5rHW9eZwC1wST2O6npkxK59TP0dvvPZJuwMSobkMMZOLqCeqWPcm7SlBanr_ISV8zR-GWZWrD9F3KJP_Ntj5dxTxIvPx-g/s320/the-people-immortal.jpg" width="208" /></a></div>Vivid account of a Red Army group in Ukraine in 1943 as they finally begin to turn the tide against the Nazi invasion. Unusual, shifting pov style of narration. Grossman unknown to me, but was the first to publish acclaimed fiction about the war during the war, and was a national hero in Russia for inspiring hope in a beleaguered time.<p></p>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-37645538010048478232023-12-05T13:42:00.003-05:002023-12-08T09:54:04.970-05:00Black Wings Has My Angel by Elliott Chaze<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwAOlX1c7NFl2VA8kJ08Yt8gL_WCN-yUn5yRenbh005Ckc1fc-AZshZNN6IqtFwGXrBZeWEiibWLslWuacfdBK9Vze8DX2vbprvZ-FWU5xehUa91RQcHcfaumTYEHmLW2eCX2nZBS2uvC27QULxtGpmq8NR9bNFLsyT5R8JKHjk0ONQhMiN_hNlw/s500/black%20wings%20has%20my%20angel.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="313" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwAOlX1c7NFl2VA8kJ08Yt8gL_WCN-yUn5yRenbh005Ckc1fc-AZshZNN6IqtFwGXrBZeWEiibWLslWuacfdBK9Vze8DX2vbprvZ-FWU5xehUa91RQcHcfaumTYEHmLW2eCX2nZBS2uvC27QULxtGpmq8NR9bNFLsyT5R8JKHjk0ONQhMiN_hNlw/s320/black%20wings%20has%20my%20angel.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Sort of a high-class, grad school version of Jim Thompson. The shell-shocked veteran turned criminal teams up with the femme fatale to hatched an armored car robbery, using an abandoned mine shaft as the perfect getaway/hideaway where they can also bury the evidence.<div><br /><div>Prose style strong, at times a litttle too self-conscious and minute for my taste. But I'd recommend the book to fans of noir crime fiction.</div></div>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-75380104603824445482023-11-27T15:46:00.007-05:002023-11-30T12:10:22.790-05:00Skylark by Dezso Kosztolanyi<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg30BKgNLrMrvIEe8vlgBn3SvDIcTZFaSXcQxJq8aaIVc5mAt0jmoal-uYCDn1LAFBVQpRemMD_5XiDZmVpwOaJCOQP20XCMMXeo3GdpfaICkXocHj2A_r_BfmzeRJn60-OFExfU6CiaVc5YIHjfHIBqqjidnxrQhIoBVr-9tz7hvVvb1nhSGlAnw/s1500/skylark.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="938" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg30BKgNLrMrvIEe8vlgBn3SvDIcTZFaSXcQxJq8aaIVc5mAt0jmoal-uYCDn1LAFBVQpRemMD_5XiDZmVpwOaJCOQP20XCMMXeo3GdpfaICkXocHj2A_r_BfmzeRJn60-OFExfU6CiaVc5YIHjfHIBqqjidnxrQhIoBVr-9tz7hvVvb1nhSGlAnw/s320/skylark.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Liked this, strange novel, about what a father and mother get up to when their unmarried 35-year old daughter goes on vacation to see cousins in the country for a week.<div><br /></div><div>The father's antics at his former Club - his resumed drinking and gambling - are vividly drawn, in the strange male culture of turn of the century Hungary which was completely new to me.</div><div><br /></div><div>A little Kafka-esque in its descriptive strategies of both external and internal landscapes.<br /><br /><div><i>He flung open His arms upon the cross, exalting human suffering in a single, heroic gesture that belonged to Him alone since the beginning of time. But His head dropped, anticipating the number indifference into which it was about to fall, His face already petrified with pain. </i>[175]</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Skylark had found it hard to get used to life on the plain, and not a day had passed without her longing to be home again. And now she was glad to be back in the town, which, with all its comforts, allowed people to forget so much, and held a promise of real solitude to those who had to be alone. </i>[209]</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-45845430165205244992023-11-27T15:45:00.005-05:002023-12-05T13:43:47.429-05:00Devil Makes Three by Ben Fountain<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Wk1_i5WQZY5XLEsB0Fki_uTRZECYvFfT7IlFsyaZ96uzTCC2TXN8UpJRycvwSma7nwPtYyNXcKZAsnCEGqZIszDdHdKCVTQEGuXDW6F_z-Wk-Qh1LTd_3ia-VhaEG0bnEyVIHJFujpoAl5lx76oFCRW2zLSE7LazdH1PkNMAhTC45iI35i09_g/s1500/devil-makes-three.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="987" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Wk1_i5WQZY5XLEsB0Fki_uTRZECYvFfT7IlFsyaZ96uzTCC2TXN8UpJRycvwSma7nwPtYyNXcKZAsnCEGqZIszDdHdKCVTQEGuXDW6F_z-Wk-Qh1LTd_3ia-VhaEG0bnEyVIHJFujpoAl5lx76oFCRW2zLSE7LazdH1PkNMAhTC45iI35i09_g/s320/devil-makes-three.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>Good, but ambitious plot involves lots of sociological and political and historical backstory being brought in about the birth and struggle of Haiti. Sort of loses narrative oomph. Well-written as always with Foundation, and clearly a heroic tale (as well as effort).<p></p>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-66081041247443230002023-11-17T09:26:00.001-05:002023-11-17T09:26:05.831-05:00Caught by Henry Green<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxvAt_NWv-PzJpp3ucKXKXL3oonRWi7N95H9RyZvLHssptwsfSKJnmnteugaSUYKfCJNGRE-bO49XUOe_N8LHeKQahgRoS0vAetLgxKYX5rNZs1FSF3Ws_LFNKWAE7-DeUi_g39tl4mPh7y29OKO25qxp5IlXuSJ-opVmWDoIWqJU6UMHkJtMvzQ/s1000/caught-henry-green.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="625" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxvAt_NWv-PzJpp3ucKXKXL3oonRWi7N95H9RyZvLHssptwsfSKJnmnteugaSUYKfCJNGRE-bO49XUOe_N8LHeKQahgRoS0vAetLgxKYX5rNZs1FSF3Ws_LFNKWAE7-DeUi_g39tl4mPh7y29OKO25qxp5IlXuSJ-opVmWDoIWqJU6UMHkJtMvzQ/s320/caught-henry-green.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Fascinating 1943 novel about an upper class gentleman who joins the Auxiliary Fire Service in London one year before the Blitz. Most of the novel takes place before the bombing but presages it: the protagonist leaves his wife and child in the countryside, and bunks and lives with working class men and men. Green's dialogue is exquisite: the working class phrasings and emphases are illuminating.<p></p>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-91320297700813533122023-11-13T09:08:00.003-05:002023-11-30T12:15:17.790-05:00Did Ye Hear Mammy Died? by Seamas O'Reilly<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFRUlRbt4tvgyGPD3DNBSmUFfuJ1oVAY9lmnHhx3h56DR8WSvoL8hXDh_ceh5o4NoWXHSmrGrmuwE3vvLiFbmZnKr1ZgxpVpgoLRq_6tUi3teGTVm1BBYGoUrd7Y_IqejQSUjBnD2k1lH8eE5yItJM3_4v-WZ0_qoBm-gfos_RGJNqXiXAx1RwQQ/s1500/did%20ye%20hear%20mammy%20died.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="994" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFRUlRbt4tvgyGPD3DNBSmUFfuJ1oVAY9lmnHhx3h56DR8WSvoL8hXDh_ceh5o4NoWXHSmrGrmuwE3vvLiFbmZnKr1ZgxpVpgoLRq_6tUi3teGTVm1BBYGoUrd7Y_IqejQSUjBnD2k1lH8eE5yItJM3_4v-WZ0_qoBm-gfos_RGJNqXiXAx1RwQQ/s320/did%20ye%20hear%20mammy%20died.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>Like this in the end, but had to get over my initial dismay that it was no <i>Angela's Ashes.</i> It's a non-fiction memoir of a large family in the north, the narrator's mother dies when he is five years old. It's more of a portrait of his wonderful father.<p></p>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17624176.post-13002045850003234642023-11-01T08:33:00.009-04:002023-11-13T10:45:34.405-05:00The Passenger by Cormac McCarthy<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhgT3gsi7fPaculgM4qxHkCzbGprixcsAmYl3ztFetfH68BbH3f7l1lpUGbB5KZ_4zBXo5yafkV5g2HRCSlxBkvwmMvQI0lqh9kuPNzs2jvsAq6tFRKdwrwJ8FdBwso5shWD3iiOuz9OdMCLSpHPwT9lkrupRSL9Qt_sm4Li2flIIp18spdLKK6w/s1500/the-passenger.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1014" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhgT3gsi7fPaculgM4qxHkCzbGprixcsAmYl3ztFetfH68BbH3f7l1lpUGbB5KZ_4zBXo5yafkV5g2HRCSlxBkvwmMvQI0lqh9kuPNzs2jvsAq6tFRKdwrwJ8FdBwso5shWD3iiOuz9OdMCLSpHPwT9lkrupRSL9Qt_sm4Li2flIIp18spdLKK6w/s320/the-passenger.jpg" width="216" /></a></div>Hemingway vs Pynchon vs classic Cormac. dash of DeLillo, sprinkle of McGuane. <div><br /></div><div>Deep sea salvage diving, quantum physics and mathematics, dogged government agents pursuing the main character, who lives off a fortune in gold coins buried at his grandmother's house, a cast of New Orleans barflies that recall an unwritten cast of grad school characters from A CONFEDERACY OF DUNCES. </div><div><p></p><div>Fierce writing, a wandering narrative, confusing dialogue. Interesting and aggravating. </div><div><br /></div><div>The sections where Western's sister has long visits with the voices insides her head who present as real character - namely, "The Thalidomide Kid" - are puzzling and never really resolve for me. Even more so when Western himself is visited by The Kid [312].</div><div><br /></div><div>The long pages of dialogue between two (or three characters) are confusing, not just in typical McCarthy style, but beyond that, as the longer conversations go on, the more the sides of the discussion seem interchangeable: each character settles into a very high-level, ironic, high-diction tone of voice.</div><div><br /></div><div>Still, McCarthy writes like a fire when he's on.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>So if you get the impression from tie to time that we're sort of winging it here so be it. The first thing is to locate the narrative line. It doesn't have to hold up in court. Start splicing in your episodes. Your anecdotals. You'll figure it out. Just remember that where there's no linear there's no delineation. Try and stay focused. Nobody's asking you to sign anything, okay? And anyway it's not like you got a lot of fallback positions. </i>[60-61]</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Listen, Ducklescence, he whispered. You will never know what the world is made of. The only thing that's certain is that it's not made of the world. As you close upon some mathematical description of reality you can't help but lose what is being described. Every inquiry displaces what is addressed. A moment in time is a fact, not a possibility. The world will take your life. But above and lastly the world does not know that you are here. You think that you understand this. But you don't. Not in your heart you don't. If you did you would be terrified. And you're not. Not yet. And now, good night. </i>[144]</div><div><br /></div><div><i>When the onset of universal night is finally acknowledged as irreversible even the </i></div><div><i>coldest cynic will be astonished at the celerity with which every rule and stricture shoring up this creaking edifice is abandoned and every aberrancy embraced. It should be quite a spectacle. However brief.</i> [160]</div><div><br /></div><div><i>...having even read a few dozen books in common is a force more binding than blood.</i> [161]</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Even the interpretation of the positron as an electron traveling backward in time. </i>[174]</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Beauty makes promises that beauty can't keep. </i>[204]</div><div><br /></div><div><i>What, you got no questions? I thought it would be fun to have a guy inquiring about his sister's sanity from the sister's own hallucinations. </i>[312]</div><div><br /></div><div><i>No matter the magnitude of your doubts about the nature of the world you cant come up with another world without coming up with another you. </i>[319]</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Documents they'd no gift to read in a cold to loot men of their souls. </i>[328]</div><div><br /></div><div><i>I think the odds are on that we will still be here to see him wet his thumb and lean over and unscrew the sun. </i>[368]</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Why can you not bury him? Are his hands so red? Fathers are always forgiven. In the end they are forgiven. Had it been women who dragged the world through these horros there would be a bounty on them. </i>[422]</div><div><br /></div><div><i>He said that a Godless life would not prepare one for a Godless death. </i>[434]</div><div><br /></div><div><i>But that's not what's at the heart of the tale. The problem is that what drives the tale will not survive the tale. </i>[338]</div><div><br /></div></div>Sean Enrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14172415668149896729noreply@blogger.com0