This Week at the Library (5/8)

Books this Update:
  • Lemony Snicket’s The Carniverous Carnival, The Grim Grotto, The Slippery Slope, The Penultimate Peril, and The End.
  • Walden, Henry David Thoreau
  • To Have or To Be?, Erich Fromm
This week I finished Lemony Snicket’s series of unfortunate events. By this point the children have decided to strike out on their own and find answers — why does Olaf keep chasing them? Who is VFD, and what do they have to do with Count Olaf? And where is that mysterious ticking noise coming from? * Even Count Olaf will be overshadowed by plot elements as the books draw near series’ end. Rather than repeating what I said in the series comments, I shall simply link to it.
Next I read Henry David Thoreau’s Walden, his account of a year spent living on the shores of Walden Pond, living off of six weeks’ worth of labor and spending much time communing with nature. Although the book is dominated by Thoreau’s accounts of watching the seasons pass and the forest-dwellers live their lives, there is considerable social criticism and philosophical musings. Those familiar with Thoreau’s transcendentalism will see it here. Many of his criticisms seem perfectly valid, particularly those endorsing simple living. The effect was somewhat subdued for me, having read excerpts from his journals beforehand.
Lastly I read Erich Fromm’s To Have or To Be?, which is a straight work of social criticism. Fromm sees humanity as having trapped itself in a “having mode” of existence: according to him, we build our sense of identity on what we have. This is not limited to material possessions: it extends the way we view relationships, religion, and intellectual ideas. Although this leads to psychological distress, Fromm writes out of a sense of greater urgency — for he believes this problem will lead to utter disaster for humanity and the planet. The problems caused by this having-mode of existence cannot be remedied through government legislation or the adoption of ideologies: only a change in the human character can save us. Fromm proposes a way to change our characters, deliberately modeling it on the Four Noble Truths (and perhaps to an extent the eight-fold path) of Buddhism. The book does not go into as much detail in the “offering a solution” phase as The Sane Society, but I think it will serve to make those who read it think.
Pick of the Week: The End for fiction, To Have or to Be? for nonfiction.
Books Next Week:
  • Gold, Isaac Asimov.
  • Securing Democracy: Why We Have an Electoral College, ed. Gary Gregg. This is a book of essays on the electoral college system in the United States. I don’t understand where “delegates” fit into the system, although I get its function well enough.
  • Anthropology for Dummies, Cameron Smith. I’ve found the for Dummies books to be adequate introductions to their subjects, and I’m enduring a science drought.
  • The Footprints of God, Greg Iles. The novel appears to be a thriller set in the context of what happens when scientists attempt to create a computer that is superior to the human brain in all respects — not just processing speed.
  • Brave New World, Aldous Huxley.
  • Aristotle’s Children: How Christians, Muslims, and Jews rediscovered Ancient Wisdom and illuminated the Dark Ages, Richard E. Rubenstein.
It’s doubtful that I’ll get to all of these, but you never know.
Posted in Reviews | Tagged | 3 Comments

To Have or To Be?

To Have or to Be?
© 1976 Erich Fromm
215 pages
Society was sick when Erich Fromm penned The Sane Society in the fifties, and it hadn’t gotten any better by the 1970s when he was asked to participate in a series of books called “World Perspectives”. Back in the fall of 2008, I think, I read his For the Love of Life, containing an essay on “Ennui and Affluence in Our Society”. Fromm believes that human beings today have trapped themselves in “having” mode: they define their sense of self based on what they own. This sense of ownership is not limited to the mindset of consumerism: according to Fromm, we also try to posses other people and ideas. That this leads to unhappy boredom and psychological distress is not bad enough: Fromm believes that if this continues, humanity will destroy itself. It could be through nuclear war or ecological collapse, but one way or another the desire to consume and possess for ourselves will destroy us in a physical as well as psychological sense.
At first, Fromm explores how the having-mode effects so much of human experience, including religion. Fromm is a humanist in a slightly more classical sense of the word: he ties Karl Marx, Albert Schweitzer, Jesus, and Buddha together. (Fromm’s For the Love of Life drew from Marx, Freud, and Zen Buddhism just for starters.) After comparing this to the being-mode — which isn’t as well defined, but which he refers to as attempting to be fully human, cultivating ourselves through art and literature, and enjoying life — he then looks as “New Man” and “The New Society”. It is Fromm’s opinion that having-mode cannot be remedied by legislation: to ensure our happiness and livelihood, the character of humanity must be changed itself. That’s a tall order, but his outline for effecting this in our lives is a deliberate echo of the Four Noble Truths.
The book doesn’t go into as much detail as The Sane Society, but I don’t think it is meant to. It was published a part of a series of books perhaps meant to make people think about their lives and if the way things are now is a way we can be satisfied with. Although I was familiar with the essence of this from “Affluence and Ennui”, he builds on it a great deal here. It’s worth the read if you can find it, but that may be hard to. It’s something of a miracle that my local library has it.
Posted in Reviews | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

Walden

Walden
© 1854 Henry David Thoreau

I remember staring up at Walden on my high school library’s bookshelf, wondering if I should check it out. I knew it was famous: it was one of those books I’d heard of in the light of being a classic. I didn’t check it out, but some years later I decided to try Thoreau out based on his WikiQuote page and found him to be enjoyable and exceedingly thought-provoking. Having read his essay on civil disobedience and portions of his journals, I decided this past week to read the work for which he may be best-known: Walden.

Walden is Thoreau’s account of his first year spent living at Walden Pond, just outside of Concord. From what I’ve read, Thoreau seemed ill at ease living in society — which to him is unnatural, with people obsessing over trivial matters and ignoring the more important ones, like the cultivation of the inner spirit. In order to think about things and to pursue a life of simple living — in which he was able to live off of six weeks’ labor — he travelled into the woods and began making a home for himself. Although I had expected social criticism, philosophical musings, and a journalistic account, I was not expecting the latter to dominate the former. The bulk of his criticism is contained within the opening chapters, in which he explains why he left. Although musings (mostly related to transcendentalism) are woven throughout, the book is mostly a straightforward account of his life spent in the woods. He writes about building his home, seeing the seasons changes, and working in his bean-field. A friend warned me that Thoreau spent a lot of time writing about the details of his life — details like the width between lines of his bean crop — but I didn’t expect quite so much. Then again, based on such a warning I might have focused more on the details when they occurred.
Thoreau is poetic at times, and quotes often from the Hindu scriptures as well as from his own tradition’s text of the bible. The book is littered with 19th century references (helpfully explained by my book’s editor), giving the impression that Thoreau is a very well-read man. This might be emblematic of the print culture that Neil Postman and Susan Jacoby are so enamored of, or it may point to the fact that Thoreau delighted in gleaning wisdom and inspiration from the products of the human spirit. He saw philosophy as using wisdom to live one’s life well. His style has the vague formality you might expect of 19th-century work.
I suspect the book may have been spoiled for me by his journals: first-time readers to Thoreau may find it more enjoyable than I did. I didn’t dislike reading it, but it didn’t grip me the way I expected Thoreau to. He has a droll wit about him: at times he seems like a man who could fascinate you with his ramblings at the same time he annoys you by constantly complaining. Although I didn’t expect it — but should have — is that this book offers a look into a different time — a time in which people come to Walden Pond to cut blocks out of ice to use in icehouses. (The first three or four times Thoreau mentioned ice-cutters, I thought they were cutting holes in the ice to fish. Only later did it occur to me that this is the mid-19th century and people use icehouses for refrigeration.)
Although the details could get wearisome at times, I am glad I read it and would like to discuss it further with people who have likewise read it.
Posted in Reviews | Tagged , , | 3 Comments

The End (and series comments)

The End
© 2006 Lemony Snicket
324 pages
The End of the Series of Unfortunate Events begins on the open ocean, with the Baudelaires and Count Olaf in the same boat — having escaped a burning hotel and an angry mob. Here is where the story that began with the untimely demise of the Baudelaire parents comes to its end — and it is quite an end. In due time, a storm destroys Olaf’s yacht and the four wash up on an island with white sandy beaches — one that appears to be a safe haven occupied by a community of people who are committed to simple living who aren’t fooled for a second by Count Olaf. That they aren’t fooled by Count Olaf like every other adult in this book is surprising and dramatic: it renders Olaf powerless and changes the balance of power completely.
Unfortunately for Violet, Klaus, and Sunny, things are not always as they seem. The island is safe, but utterly boring and controlled by an old man named Ishmael (“Call me Ish,” he always says). Ishmael does not pretend to be king, like Olaf does — he simply possesses a strong power of suggestion and an unlimited supply of coconut juice that acts as an opiate. The kids realized straightaway that Ishmael isn’t the kindly old “facilitator” he seems to be: he knew who Count Olaf was, and he knew that the Baudelaires were orphans. Clearly there’s more going on here than meets the eye, and indeed they find that the island — where “everything washes up, eventually” — is not isolated from the world of their past, but is indeed very connected with it. Its story is their parents’ story, and Olaf’s story, and the Snickets‘ story — and it is a story the Baudelaires are now caught up in and will fulfill.
The End is dramatically different from the twelve books preceding in that Count Olaf is utterly out of his element. No one believes him: he has no power. His and the kids’ arrival has stirred up the past and will destroy the community on the island, but he will not gain from it. Surprisingly, he gains dimensions: he communicates with the children as people, not just as his victims — conveying sympathy to them while the reader feels sympathy for Olaf. It’s not what I had expected. What happens in The End I will not tell in full: I think I may have been more engrossed in this one than in any other. It was…well, moving. I think Snicket is at his best here.
The series as a whole has been enjoyable: there’s a reason I can plow through five books in a few days and not feel tired of it. Frankly, I’m tempted to watch the movie again. It has a number of strengths. It takes its audience seriously, for one. The children who I expect constitute the bulk of the audience are talked to directly: Snicket connects with them. I think it is true that most kids feel a sense of alienation from adults when they get older — treated as if they aren’t the intelligent and feeling humans that adults are supposed to be. Snicket acknowledges that sense, and he plays with it using the Baudelaire’s complete inability to get through to any adults. It is in this way that he is slightly “subversive”, because he does talk to children frankly, and he tells them that some of the stories they hear from adults are utterly asinine (not in those words) and not worth listening to — stories like the Boy Who Cried Wolf and the Little Engine that Could.
But Snicket’s entire audience isn’t children: I expect parents, librarians, and other adults who aren’t too embarrassed to go into the children’s section of the library are reading as well, and Snicket writes to us. I’ve lost track of the number of little jokes written into the text for the benefit of adults or very well-read children. (Speaking of which, the books are educational in that they are constantly building vocabulary for readers: some of the words Snicket uses even I haven’t heard of.) Generally speaking, the narrative style should be enjoyable by most everyone. Snicket is dryly hilarious, and a joy to read even though the series is very dark indeed. Topping all of this off is the fact that the series isn’t shallow: it’s not just something to be read and forgotten. It convey important messages to children — messages like that the world can be a very dark and dangerous place, but that people can show “moral stamina” and stay true to themselves — that giving in won’t work.
I would suggest that those who are in the position of recommending books to children read a few of these to see what they’re like — and that those of you who are not in a position of recommend books to children try one or two anyway, because they’re funny and more than a little dark.
Posted in Reviews | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

The Penultimate Peril

The Penultimate Peril

© 2005 Lemony Snicket
353 pages
As its name suggests, we are nearing The End. Following clues left for them by VFD members, the children arrive back where the series began — at Briny Beach, where Sunny echoes her past self and says “Look at that mysterious figure coming out of the fog!”. They soon arrive at the Hotel Denouement, where they meet many of their old “guardians” as well as many VFD comrades. Rather than allowing the children to rest in light of their many perilous adventures — escaping multiple fires, a hurricane, idiot guardians, a lynch mob, being thrown down an elevator shaft, and falling down a mountain among many others, their VFD contact asks them to infiltrate the hotel and spy on various persons to find some answers and resolve the plot. This does not go too well, and the arrival of Count Olaf makes matters worse, leading to a trial where everyone by the judges are blind-folded (as “Justice is blind”) after a harpoon accident. The children engage in even more morally questionable acts, and by book’s end, the only person who isn’t questioning their moral integrity is Count Olaf — as he writes them off as being just like him. Very little is resolved aside from some questions about VFD, but then everything goes up in flames — as it were.
Posted in Reviews | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

The Grim Grotto

The Grim Grotto
© 2004 Lemony Snicket
323 pages
I continue the Series of Unfortunate Events. By this point in the series, the format has completely changed. The Baudelaire orphans are no longer being protected by the system and ushered from place to place: having lost communication with Mr. Poe after he dropped them off at the Vile Village, the orphans are taking care of themselves as best they can. While trying to find answers to why their parents were killed, and why their friends’ parents were killed, and why a dozen other things, they are competing with Count Olaf and occasionally running into people who are part of the overall story: the story of VFD and its fight against the likes of Count Olaf. One of those people is Captain Widdershins, who pops up out of the water unexpectedly in his submarine and invites the Baudelaire Orphans in. Fortunately for the children, Widdershins is not a friend of Count Olaf, and does not try to kill them. He worked with their parents and feeds them some information while constantly blabbering. His personal philosophy is “He who hesitates is lost”, and this extends to thinking about what you want to say. He and his stepdaughter Fiona come friends and allies of the orphans, although like most Baudelaire friends they won’t be around for long. The novel is dominated by the orphans’ search for an artifact from the VFD headquarters that is apparently quite important. Count Olaf does make an appearance, but with the usual courage the Baudelaires thwart his evil schemes. Interestingly, by this point villains have been introduced that cow even Olaf into staring at his shoes and laughing nervously — and they feature in the plot.
The main story seems to be shaping up nicely: although I’m pretty sure the great mystery of VFD has been spoiled for me by a single line in the movie*, I’m still very much interested in what happens.
*”Sgdqd Aqd svn jhmcr ne odnokd hm sgd vnqkcsgnrd vgn rsAqs sgd ehqdr, Amc sgnrd vgn ots sgdl nts.”
Because blogger has no “spoiler” language to hide that sort of statement, I coded the line. It’s rather easy: B is A and A is A — because it can’t really be Z.
Posted in Reviews | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

The Slippery Slope

The Slippery Slope

© 2003 Lemony Snicket
337 pages
The last book ended with the Baudelaire orphans not in a quiet place where they could reflect on their fate, but in a perilous place that threatened death within the span of the first chapter if their courage and wit did not show up quickly enough. Happily, they do –but this of little help to poor Sunny, who has been spirited away by Count Olaf. Sunny and Klaus must beat Count Olaf to the headquarters of the mystery organization VFD, set near the top of a mountain — making their way up the mountain through bitter cold and bitter insects who like to sting people for no reason. (Count Olaf is “quite fond of them”.) En route they run into an old enemy, Carmelita Spats — an obnoxious schoolmate of theirs from the Austere Academy. They also make a new friend — one who knows who Count Olaf is, and knows that the Baudelaire orphans are innocent of the crimes they’ve been accused of. He leads them to the VFD headquarters — but they arrive there too late to find any answers.
The book may get its title from a slope the orphans must climb to rescue Sunny from Count Olaf, as he is forcing the poor infant to do all of his chores, including the cooking. (Fortunately, Sunny makes a very good smoked herring.) It may also apply to the growing moral difficulty that faces the orphans: simply to survive, they find themselves acting very much like villains, and at some point in the novel they have to make stands to protect their character. For their trials, they gain new allies and come closer to solving the great mystery in which they are involved. The series continues to entertain.
Posted in Reviews | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

The Carnivorous Carnival

The Carnivorous Carnival
© 2003 Lemony Snicket
286 pages
Although for the first six books the Baudelaire orphans were bounced from one psychotic or useless guardian to the next, they had a sense of stability in that they knew Mr. Poe would show up eventually (so long as they managed to unmask Count Olaf) and take them someplace else, where they would enjoy a moment of respite before being thrown down an elevator shaft or hypnotized or something like that. When The Vile Village ended with the kids being run out of town by a mob intent to burn them at the stake, this format was broken and the kids are utterly on their own. Count Olaf is increasing in strength now that people think he is dead. On the bright side, ….
…Well, the kids aren’t dead. At the end of The Hostile Hospital, they decided to follow Count Olaf and see where he goes. As you might surmise, he goes to a carnival to see “Madame Lulu”, a fortune-teller who has been keeping him up-to-date on the location of the Baudelaire orphans. The kids assume disguises and infiltrate the carnival, pretending to be “freaks”: Violet and Sunny become a person with two heads, and Sunny dons a fake beard and becomes a wolf-child. Since Count Olaf has no idea that the Baudelaires are right under his hooked nose, you would think the kids would be entitled to a little rest — but no. Olaf, as a favor to Lulu, introduces lions to the carnival to provide a new form of entertainment: lions eating members of the freak show.
The members of the freak show include an ambidextrous man and a contortionist — as well as other people whose only real limitation is that they’ve allowed other people to view them as freaks. They’re well-mannered, and the Baudelaire orphans object to their being thrown to the lions. Further dragging them into the plot is the fact that Madame Lulu has some connection to the mysterious group VFD — and thus, to their parents. As you might imagine, however, circumstances prevent her telling them anything and the book ends with the Baudelaire orphans reenacting part of an INXS song. The book is entertaining as ever: character development continues nicely, and my interest in the overall story is increasing.
Posted in Reviews | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

This Week At the Library (29/7)

Books this Update:

  • The Vile Village and The Hostile Hospital, Lemony Snicket
  • Syrup, Max(x) Barry
  • Finding Your Religion, Scotty McLennan
  • Reclaiming Virtue, Ray Bradshaw
I started the week off by continuing in Lemony Snicket’s Series of Unfortunate Events. While I typically check out three at a time, some unknown person had checked out book nine before my arrival, and so I settled for only two. At this point in the series, the books are more possessed by the overall story: the format set by the preceding six books in which Mr. Poe, as the children’s overseer, inadvertently places them in the trust of people who are either destined to be killed or who are working with Count Olaf, and eventually takes the children away once they’ve dealt with Olaf’s sinister plot, is no more. Mr. Poe does not come to rescue the children at the end of The Vile Village after they’ve been accused of murder and run out of town, nor does he find the children at the Hostile Hospital before Violet nearly loses her head. He never shows up at all, and the children have finally realized that he and every other adult in this world of theirs is useless and they must rely fully on themselves. Although they continue to face adversity with their usual stamina, they begin to question their actions after using deceit to protect themselves.
Syrup by Max Barry is not at all like the Snicket books. Like Jennifer Government and Company, it’s a short but fast novel that provides laughs, an enjoyable story, and satire. This one is set in the marketing industry, following the struggle between two groups of marketers at the Coca-Cola company who are competing with one another for glory and money. Scat and 6 are our two main characters, and their rival is Sneaky Pete — who is only in the story because he trademarked Scat’s big idea to pitch to Coca-Cola while Scat was pitching it. Having robbed Scat of his opportunity, he immediately displaces the marketing executive that first heard Scat’s idea (6), pitting the two against him. The quick and funny plot culminates in their attempt to film a movie that will serve as a feature-length advertisement for Coca-Cola. The conflict is not resolved until the book’s final pages, keeping readers’ eyes firmly on the page.
I read Scotty McLennan’s Finding Your Religion next, and it seems to serve as a guidebook of sorts for people who are having problems with their own childhood religion or who are looking for a spiritual path that best suits them. Why would a religious skeptic such as myself read this book? Good question. What drew me to it initially was its potential for looking at the spiritual elements of the various religions and seeing how they compared and contrasted. The book was written for people who are looking for meaning or direction in their lives and not finding in in “material” means. McLennan is a Unitarian Universalist and does write on the universality of religions here, noting that each has something to offer. He believes in making religion serve the individual needs of people, allowing people to interpret the tradition they subscribe to as much as necessary — as he has done in calling himself a Christian while dropping much of what is traditionally considered Christian. It was certainly an interesting read.
Lastly I read Ray Bradshaw’s Reclaiming Virtue, a rational defense of morality that incorporates philosophy, sociology, parenting strategies, information on childhood development, self-help psychology, psychiatry, biology, and more into its argument. There’s a lot of information here — I regarded it as a mental hike — but it all ties into the act of “prudence”, which Bradshaw defines as doing the right thing at the right time for the right reason, allowing our emotions to inform us and our reason to guide us in figuring out what’s best in a given situation. I think it merits recommending.
Pick of the Week: Finding Your Religion was surprisingly interesting, but I think Syrup takes it.
Quotation of the Week:
“History, despite its wrenching pain
Cannot be unlived, but if faced
With courage, need not be lived again.” – Maya Angelou, as quoted in Reclaiming Virtue
Next Week:
  • The Carnivorous Carnival, The Slippery Slope, The Grim Grotto, The Penultimate Peril, and The End by Lemony Snicket.
  • To Have or To Be, Erich Fromm. I’m assuming this builds on “Affluence and Ennui in Our Society” from For the Love of Life and Fromm’s criticism that people today build their identities based on what they own rather.
  • Walden, Henry David Thoreau. I’ve found his journal writings and Civil Disobedience to be thought provoking and personally inspiring, so I look forward to reading the work for which he is arguably most known.
  • Gold, Isaac Asimov. This is a collection of science fiction stories and essays published after Asimov’s death.
Posted in Reviews | Tagged | Leave a comment

Reclaiming Virtue

Reclaiming Virtue: How We can Develop the Moral Intelligence to do the Right Thing at the Right Time for the Right Reason

© 2009 Ray Bradshaw
528 pages
When I checked this out, I expected a rational defense of morality. I found this, but I found more — I found a big, rich book incorporating philosophy, biology, psychiatry, parenting strategies, sociology, social criticism, and more in the name of living virtuously. Bradshaw believes that human beings are equipped with a natural moral intelligence. While he references the idea of God several times, his foundation is not necessarily theistic: his content doesn’t rely on gods like M. Scott Peck’s does. For Bradshaw, what we call “virtuous” is that which leads to our own fulfillment: virtue is its own reward, allowing us to grow and triumph over adversity.
The book is divided into three sections: the first addresses the idea of virtue by itself, drawing on both biology and culture. He references Steven Pinker’s article on morality to point out what he believes are five essential parts of morality: not harming others, being fair, being loyal to your tribe, respecting legitimate authority, and exalting what is “pure, clean, and holy”. In part two, “Developing Your Moral Intelligence”, Bradshaw focuses on how individuals can learn to rely on their innate sense of what is good while avoiding being ensnared by obedience cultures. Here we see psychology and a bit of self-help at work, with Bradshaw encouraging his readers to embrace their “shadow” selves — their darkness — as well as their positive attributes. (He quotes Jung here quite a bit.) In the last section, he concentrates on parenting, and here we experience quite a bit of developmental writing, with separate sections focusing on toddlers through to adolescents. It is in this last section that social criticism shows its face, and where I expected Neil Postman to show his — especially when Bradshaw addressed the problems caused by television and the Internet. Bradshaw writes on a wide range of topic: while he began with Aristotle, he ended with sex among adolescents.
What ties the book together is Bradshaw’s repeated emphasis on prudence — doing the right thing for the right reason, which means thinking matters through while relying on our emotional intelligence. Although Bradshaw claimed this morality is rooted in emotions, it seems to me to rely too on rational intelligence. Because there are so many topics in this book, I’m almost hard-pressed to offer a summation: it was certainly a mental hike for me. I didn’t expect to encounter so much, but even though my legs are tired and my lungs are winded, I think I got something out of it. I believe the book bears returning to, as well as reccommending it.
Posted in Reviews | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment