A few years ago I read Broad Band, a history of women in early computing, which blew my mind. I’d taken for granted that computers and the early internet were wholly the domain of socially awkward dudes with glasses wearing pocket protectors and that only later had women begun exploring it. Instead, Claire Evans drew back the curtain and revealed how early programming was dominated by women, creating foundational programming languages like COBOL. Recoding History is a different approach to the same general subject, with a lot of overlap in the women it highlights, but very much worth experiencing for IT history geeks given that it’s not an author reading a history: it’s recordings of the women themselves, telling their own stories, either in interviews, lectures, or other recordings. Broad Band made me an instant fan of Admiral “Amazing Grace” Hopper, and I was delighted to hear her speak here. Recoding is a little broader in the women it highlights, as Broad Band had a focus on women who contributed to the Internet. Here, we meet women whose work support NASA’s mission, from designing rocket trajectories to creating the software that allowed lunar landing, or — away from the coding side and more into business management — had visions that led to products like the Palm Pilot. In addition to the quality recordings, this presentation has some background effects which I thought were a nice, subtle addition. The book ends with the designer of the first vocal robot, and offers her reflections on the world of AI. As a fan of IT history, I enjoyed this for the most part: the business-oriented chapters were less interesting to me than the tech, of course, but I know that sort of thing has its audience, and those who are mentoring young girls and want them to be ambitious builders of the future will definitely want to take a look at this as a possible spark for inspiration.
After a half-century of vicious occupation, the Cardassian Empire is finally cutting bait and withdrawing from Bajor, pushed by aggressive resistance movements. The Federation has been asked to meditate the terms of a peaceful withdrawal and settlement and has asked Picard to employ his delicate touch. This is not easy for the captain, so recently tortured by the Cardassians to obtain intelligence for a military attack they later aborted — but Duty compels. Pliable Truths is an excellent bridge novel that links TNG to DS9’s beginning and accomplishes a few minor coups like explaining how O’Brien transitioned from transporter dogsbody in TNG to Deep Space Nine’s chief engineer.
Pliable Truths opens with two concurrent and gradually intersecting stories. As the Enterprise crew begins working with the new Bajoran government and militia to repair Terok Nor — which is to host the peace conference — a group of Bajoran prisoners on a planet removed from maps by the Cardassian military learns that their labor camp is hiding a secret science lab, and that the Cardassians have orders to destroy every portion of the camp rather than risk the returning prisoners’ drawing any attention to the planet. Doctor Crusher and Keiko O’Brian are also investigating some water pollution near a labor camp on Bajor, while Garak verbally spars with everyone to my constant glee. Meanwhile, a series of terrorist incidents and acts of sabotage hinder efforts to repair the station and stabilize Bajoran-Cardassian relations, setting the stage for its shambled status in “Emissary”. The result is a good mix of different drama — personal, political, espionage, and direct combat. and they’re not strictly separated: the Cardassians send Gul Madred to upstage Gul Dukat and at the same time rattle Captain Picard, as Madred had literally been torturing Picard a few weeks prior. There’s also an excellent mix of TNG and future DS9 characters, though admittedly O’Brien is both so that’s cheating a bit. Still, any book that has both Kira and Ro is a winner even though they don’t get to be surly action heroes together.
As a die-hard Niner and a longtime reader of Dayton Ward, I expected to like this novel and wasn’t disappointed. Characterization was solid, the drama was varied and well-paced, and Ward does a good job of portraying the Bajorans’ mixed feelings over the Federation’s presence without beating the reader over the head.
Highlights:
“I read her the story she likes, but she told me she likes the way you read it better.” “That’s because you don’t provide the sound effects. Or the music.”
“It’s no surprise that victory over an opponent allows one to craft whatever version of facts they feel best serves them,” said Picard. “It could be as complex as the history of one civilization’s subjugation of another, or as simple as determining how many viewing ports are set into that bulkhead.” He pointed to the quintet of windows dominating the wardroom’s far wall before leveling his gaze at Madred. “Are there five ports, or only four?” Picard watched with satisfaction as the Cardassian’s smile faded, replaced by a look of irritation before Madred leaned back in his seat.
How many lights do you see?
“This is interesting, meeting you here,” said Madred. Placing his spoon next to his bowl, Garak clasped his hands on the table. “It was my understanding that being forced into exile meant never having to see people I don’t like. Leave it to Central Command to fail at something so simple.”
The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet was a cautious tale about the dangers of pride and unbridled passion. A Daughter of Fair Verona says phooey on that, tweaks Shakespeare so that our teenage lovers prove too incompetent to actually do themselves in, and instead live to marry and beget a litter that Abraham and Sarah would nod approvingly at. Romeo and Juliet’s oldest is the fair Rosaline, who — yes, is named after the girl Romeo was lusting for when he showed up at the Capulet party that night. Rosie has been betrothed four times in the past, but each time has managed to escape uninspiring men by marrying them off to someone else. Now, her parents have arranged a wedding with her and the foul Duke whose previous three wives all mysteriously died after he’d spent their dowries. Why? Well, this is Renaissance Italy, where family politics are particularly vicious. Fortunately, at the betrothal ball, the Duke developed an acute case of knife-in-chest — but now everyone thinks Rosie did it, mostly because she had a knife up her sleeve in case the Duke got fresh. Although the Prince vouches for her innocence, Rosie must discover the true killer to restore her name and save herself from those who might seek to avenge him. It’s a quirky take on Shakespeare with appeal that I imagine varies a lot on the audience.
This title caught my eye almost immediately because I have a particular fondness for The Sims 2 and one of its neighborhoods, Veronaville, in which players can retell the drama of Romeo and Juliet for themselves — or not. I have a “Sims 2 in Sims 4” save and have recently been replaying it, and so Verona was on my mind when I spotted this being cataloged. It’s a hard book to classify: it’s historical fiction, I suppose, but with a very loose Renaissance setting, with no real politicians or events to anchor it. The plot is straightforward: headstrong female protagonist gets betrothed, gets a messy escape when the boorish fiance dies, and then has to solve the mystery for various reasons At the same time, Rosie has fallen in love for the first time, at the advanced age of twenty — and inexplicably, she’s fallen for a silly ass from a rival family named Lysander. She finds some support in her cause from the Prince, who takes her intellect seriously (and who harbors a crush on her that’s obvious to the reader but which Rosie remains oblivious to), as well as pushback from those who don’t think this is any kind of business for a respectable woman to be involving herself in. The ending offers quite the twist, at least as far as the culprit goes. As is appropriate for a book inspired by Shakespeare, there are a few double entendres and a lot of Bard quotes, not necessarily from Romeo and Juliet itself. However, the language is almost wholly contemporary, as is the general feel of the book. There’s a fair bit of humor in here, either from the wordplay or Rosie’s exasperation at her parents’ constant pawing at one another.
I enjoyed this for the most part, though I began losing interest in the last third except for wondering that direction Rosie’s love life would go: her attraction to the pretty fool Lysander was inexplicable to me when the Prince was there being all Byronic, but as Mickey and Sylvia observed: love is strange.
France, 1918: the Great War is almost over, but it doesn’t feel like it for civilians close to the lines, where the threat of a German resurgence hangs as close to the battered ground as the dust from the constant artillery. Two American socialites, Anne Morgan and Anne Murray Dike, have formed an organization of women to go to France and offer aid and assistance to suffering French civilians — people whose villages are razed, whose lives were destroyed. Among their number is Jessie “Kit” Carson, a librarian who intends to help establish children’s libraries in rural France. Her story is discovered over sixty years later by another librarian, Wendy Peterson — who finds articles about her in the NYC’s archives and is immediately obsessed, finding in the “CARDs” — the volunteer women — her inspiration to write. Miss Morgan’s Book Brigade tells each of their stories in turn, with alternating chapters. Through Jessie, we explore French civilian life amid the war, and find people struggling: they’re tired of death and war, haunted by their losses — and Jessie does her best to offer them reasons for hope through literature. Wendy’s journey involves archival detective work, where we learn about the CARDS and the two Annes in a more direct way. The result is enjoyable, but becomes all the more impressive after the revelation that Jessie is real and she transformed French library science.
Where this most succeeds is sharing the story of the two historic Annes and the real organization they formed together. as well as revealing how much of the Great War still marks France. I didn’t realize there are stillexclusionary zones where human activity is forbidden due to the amount of poisonous or unxploded ordinance still buried there. Kit’s story is easily the better of the two threads in the book, as she works diligently to make a difference in the lives of those around her with literature, even in the midst of a war: through her we experience its final year, which was not a slow die-down but just as harrowing as the opening year, as Germany launched a spring offensive that seriously challenged the Entente powers. Despite the setting, though, I couldn’t quite buy the historicity — it didn’t feel like I was in 1918: Jessie and Wendy both feel like the same character, a thoroughly modern Millie, albeit with more interest in romance on Wendy’s part. (Speaking of, there are some quick but awkward sex scenes in here. I don’t think they add anything.) Not helping is the fact that even though Jessie speaks French, most of the titles she recommends are Anglo-American, with the exception of a Dumas title.* Granted, they’re all great titles (Tom Sawyer, Anne of Avonlea), and yes, she’s writing for an English-speaking audience who are probably oblivious to the world of French literature, juvenile or otherwise — but it sapped historical immersion for me, as did mentions of bombing raids and the American airman, who is sometimes a pilot and sometimes a mechanic.
The arrival of the Spanish flu did begin to build some historic tension (slightly spoiled by the author trying to work in some painfully obvious corona connections), as does the librarian characters arguing about the open-stack system in which patrons could browse and borrow at will, instead of requesting a title from the catalog and waiting for a librarian to achieve it. (This was a culture shock for me in reading The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis, learning that the stacks were closed!) I love the central idea of one person finding connections to another across the decades: it looks like the author has played with that in at least one more of her books, and according to the epilogue it was the author’s research for that book that led to this one. There were some standouts here, like the young French girl Marcelle who doesn’t hesitate to correct her “betters” French, who Kit mentors, and she plays a prominent part in bringing the novel to a close with a wonderful finish, one that bumped this up in my estimation.
[*] My favorite moment is when a soldier slid a paperback copy of The Count of Monte Cristo in his shirt pocket. Have fun with that.
….I wouldn’t notice and neither would my friends. I adopted a minimalist dress code years ago in which my t-shirts, underwear, and socks are all almost entirely black except in the case of some pre-code shirts/shorts that haven’t aged out yet; my pants are either jeans or khakis in one of two colors (black or tan); I have six shirts in the same style: three different colors in short sleeves, three different colors in long sleeve. When they age out I replace them, so on facebook there’s like a decade in which I appear to be wearing the same red shirt. Formal wear isn’t much different: a very tight but versatile collection inspired by articles like this. Things have changed a bit in the last two years — I’ve relented on my decades-old hatred of printed t-shirts to sport Strange New Worlds and Boston Red Sox t-shirts. I figure I’m hitting middle age, I might as well lighten up a bit. No one is going to print “When he perished, he had an impressively small and versatile wardrobe” in my obituary, after all.. :-p
My wardrobe is this shirt but in six different combinations of longsleeve/short sleeve, plus red/blue/green color options. I was doing a Walter Sobchak costume in that left one.
Baghdad is generally considered a good place for solo journalists to get kidnapped and sold to ISIS, whatever they’re there for. I was there for the drugs. (Scarcity Brain, Michael Easter)
“I used to have an overzealous fan of my own,” Gene [Roddenberry] said. “Try as I might, I couldn’t get her to leave me alone.” “What did you do?” I asked, leaning forward and hoping for wisdom from the Great Bird of the Galaxy. “I married her!” (Fan Fiction, Brent Spiner.)
‘I blame you. Paris is a . . .’ She paused. ‘Was an immoral fool. But you were a married woman. You should have refused him.’ ‘Paris was a married man,’ Helen said. ‘Why does everyone always forget that?’ ‘He was married to a nymph,’ Hecabe replied. ‘She was hardly likely to besiege our city for his safe return.’ (A Thousand Ships, Natalie Haynes)
(1) Living in Wonder: Finding Mystery and Meaning in a Secular Age, Rod Dreher. A book on disenchantment and reenchantment.
(2) Sharpe’s Storm, Bernard Cornwell. New Sharpe novel!
(3) Precipe, Robert Harris. A novel set during the prelude to World War 1 in which a romantic liason gets mingled with spy stuff. Robert Harris is generally superb, with an outstanding range of historical fiction.
(4) Star Trek: Lost to Eternity, Greg Cox. Finally, a novel about the cetologist who hitched a ride to the future in Star Trek: The Voyage Home. Very interested in learning how an adult in the 1980s navigates in the world of the Federation.
Those are the books I’m waiting on, but what about interesting upcoming releases?
(5) Star Trek Open a Channel: A Woman’s Trek, Nana Visitor. Nana Visitor, who played one of my favorite characters, is apparently publishing a book on how Star Trek has portrayed women through the years, with lots of interviews spanning the decades. Cool! Trek has had some great female characters over the years: my current favorite is La’an.
(7) At the Edge of Empire: A Family’s Reckoning with China. A second-generation immigrant tries to come to terms with his father’s escape from Communist China.
(8) Ghost Station, S.A. Barnes. I’m told Barnes is an up-and-comer and combines SF with horror. Not exactly my bag, but the cover looks cool.
(9) Imminent: Inside the Pentagon’s Hunt for UFOs, Luis Elizondo
(10) The Future Was Now: Madmen, Mavericks, and the Epic Sci-Fi Summer of 1982, Chris Nashawaty
When I was searching for upcoming releases, I found this and want to share it for the sheer bizaareness.
Sing, muse, of the confusion of Croseus, and of the anguish of Penthesilea! A Thousand Ships collects stories about the women of the Illiad — mostly of Troy, but of Achaea, too, across the wine-dark sea — and framed by one of the Muses being begged by a poet to help him pen his next epic. Irritated at the constant stories about slaughtering men and burning cities, the Muse begins shaping the poet’s story another way — a way that looks at those forgotten by the war their lives destroyed. Although some of these stories could be read as historical fiction, with the gods being mentioned but not actively present as characters, later on the Olympians do become explicit characters, so this is a title solidly in the realm of mythological/fantasy fiction. Generally speaking, the more original stories are historical, while the ones drawn directly from the myth texts like Ovid’s Heroides, are more fantastical. The Judgement of Paris is one story, for instance, which features an ensemble cast of Olympians, including grey-eyed Athena squabbling over the golden apple like she’d forgotten she’s the goddess of wisdom, while the twins elbowing each other and laughing at the undignified display. Even when directly retelling a story from Ovid or so, Haynes also adds elements to make the retelling her own: in the story about the death of Polydorus, for instance, we learn about it when Odysseus takes Queen Hecuba (now his slave) to Thrace, where the late Priam had dispatched the boy for his safety. The stories are largely human-focused, though there are a couple of god-specific ones like a story about Eris and her malicious decision to spoil the wedding with her apple of discord. Given the context of the story, sorrow and pain beat a steady tattoo, but Haynes also adds in splashes of humor, mostly in dialogue. I’d seen this author pop up atBewitching Books, Ravenous Reads recently and am glad I tried her out, as there were a lot of stories in this I’d never encountered. Whenever I draw up my third Classics Club list, that’s something I need to remedy!
“I blame you. Paris is a . . .’ She paused. ‘Was an immoral fool. But you were a married woman. You should have refused him.’ ‘Paris was a married man,’ Helen said. ‘Why does everyone always forget that?’ ‘He was married to a nymph,’ Hecabe replied.
That’s what I can give you, Paris. I can give you wisdom, strategy, tactics. I can give you the power to defend what is yours from any man who would take it from you. What could matter more? Give the apple to me, and I will be your defender, your adviser, your warrior.’ ‘Is that your owl?’ he asked, as the tawny bird flapped across the clearing and settled on a rotten tree trunk to his right. ‘You cannot have my owl!’ she said, and thought for a moment. ‘I will get you another owl, if you want one.’
She isn’t a footnote, she’s a person. And she – all the Trojan women – should be memorialized as much as any other person. Their Greek counterparts too. War is not a sport, to be decided in a quick bout on a strip of contested land. It is a web which stretches out to the furthest parts of the world, drawing everyone into itself.
“Like most actors, I haven’t read my contract — but I’m pretty sure there’s something in it about not driving on Qualudes.”
First up: do not read this. Do not read this. Listen to it. Reading this is the equivalent of getting your knowledge of War and Peace from a Wishbone classics edition. Fan Fiction is an audiobook that’s transcended to the level of audio drama, with a full cast and regular sound effects — and that cast is largely dominated by Star Trek The Next Generation cast. Have you ever wanted to hear Geordie la Forge lecturing Data on how burning sage is good for dismissing evil spirits, Patrick Stewart declaring he can teach Brent Spiner the ways of karate, or Counselor Troi declare (in a rich Cockney accent) that if anyone comes after them, she’ll kick `em in the balls? Well, I never wanted to, but I got it and honestly Troi threatening to kick a stalker in the balls made my evening. So, what is Fan Fiction? It’s a partly biographical novel supposedly based on true events — but I’m sorry , I don’t quite buy there being a set of twin sisters — one an FBI agent, one a professional bodyguard — both falling for Brent Spiner after he attracts the attention of a stalker who refers to themselves as LAL.
The trouble begins when Brent Spiner-the-character receives a box at his Paramount trailer containing a severed pig penis floating in blood. It is the first of many such deliveries from “Lal”, who included letters addressing Brent Spiner as Daddy and promising that they’ll be together soon. Given that these deliveries include razor blades and bullets, the very-much shaken Spiner doesn’t think it will be a pleasant meeting. Things quickly spiral out of control, with a growing cast of strange women — another possible stalker at the VHS rental store, a neglected wife in Canada who believes Brent wants to have an affair with her — and two beautiful twins who immediately abandon any professionalism and begin flirting with Spiner. In this is intermixed memories from character-Brent’s traumatic childhood, and his strange dreams that become more surreal and frightening as he himself is being driven into paranoia by the constant threats from Lal. Lal even recruits a young child dressed as Data to deliver a letter from her at a Star Trek convention.
This is an interesting novel, easily one of the more unique I’ve read over the years. Spiner-the-author alleges that the first part of the story is completely true, detailing his arrival in New York, establishment as an actor, then moving to Los Angeles, and doubtless a lot of the world-establishing detail is true — I know from reading other memoirs that Spiner and Worf did spend the most time in the makeup trailer, arriving far earlier than everyone else, but I have no idea if LeBar Burton is the new age son of Aquarius he’s depicted here. I’m tolerably sure the Royal Shakespeare Company does not teach all of its actors martial arts. The bits about the fan(s) make interesting if increasingly confusing drama, and I wonder if the confusion owes to Spiner trying to bring in as many odd fan experiences over the year as he can. Make no mistakes, Trekkies can be an obsessive bunch: in Trekkies 2, I think, there’s a woman who had Conner Trinnear (Trip Tucker, ST ENT) tattooed all over her back. The story is frequently weird, sometimes feels like wish-fulfillment (the fact that everyone knows that Lal is Data’s daughter in “The Offspring”, which they also know was in season 2) , but it is consistently hilarious. Whether I was chuckling over hearing the TNG cast being very off-character, recoiling in cringe at some of the letters Spiner received or people he was approached by, this was a long train of muted or outright glee. It’s frequently off-color, but Trekkies in general will get a kick out of this. (But not Marina Sirtis’ kind) For those interested, this takes place during the fifth season of TNG.
“The eye that looks ahead to the safe course is closed forever”
For as long as I’ve been online, I’ve heard of Dune, have heard expressions like “The spice must flow” and seen the “I must not fear / fear is the mind-killer / fear is the little death (etc)” recitation embedded in forum signatures. I’ve been aware of it, too, in PC gaming circles — mentions made of the games. And yet, despite being a fairly active reader of SF, not until recently did I attempt to read it. Part of the reason is its sheer scope: trying Dune is like starting the Star Wars Extended Universe, or the Star Trek Relaunch novels — thousands of pages all building on one another, with interwomen stories and evolving characters. It’s an epic space opera in the far future in which there’s a vast Imperium and warring houses within it. The story opens when the Emperor removes dominion of the Spice Planet Arakkis from House Harkonnes to House Atreides, for reasons known only to him. Duke Leto, leader of the House Atredies, knows this “gift” will bring only trouble, but is obliged to accept, bound by both lawful duty and — the hand of Fate? Although this is a science fiction novel, it is also a story rich in mysticism and prophecy — a book that tells its story not merely through the central narrative, but in sayings and poems interspersed throughout the text. It’s, in short, an epic, and lives up to its reputation.
Star Wars may start with a handy prelude telling you who the players are and what’s happening — rebellions, taxation on trade routes, that sort of thing — but Dune drops the reader into the middle of things. We open on a ducal capital in turmoil, as Duke Leto has just been ordered to take posession of his arch-enemy’s prize planet: Arakkis, a desert world that’s largely inhospital to human life but which is the only place that the substance known as Spice appears. Spice has all manner of uses which we learn about through the text. The main character of Dune, however, is not the Duke but his young son Paul who is in his mid-teens and being primed for adult responsibilities. He is a child of promise, of speculation: his mother was trained in secret arts, and she in turn has begun training him in these, wondering if he might be the one spoken of in her order’s prophecies. Paul will be thrown into adulthood after arrival on Arakkis, where the enemy Harkonnes have left traps and schemes that will soon see the Duke dead and Paul and his mother abandoned in the desert, where they find allies among the desert-folk Fremen and Paul’s destiny is put on speed. Biding his time in the desert, Paul will strike back — and claim a mantle of leadership far broader and heavier than his father the Duke’s, a mantle that will cover several more books.
Although it took a few tries to get into this, the incredible worldbuilding presenting something of an obstacle to an easily distracted reader who finds himself in the middle of things, once the ice broken and the skids greased by graphic novels and the movie, I was sucked wholly into the story like it was a sandworm’s open maw. There are a multiple levels of fascination: the core story of a young man suddenly being thrown into adulthood, forced to grapple with schemes from men and women more powerful and wealthy and he, but increasingly strengthened by the training he was given by his mother, as well as the invisible hand of Fate which lands him among people who view him as some kind of chosen one. There’s the political scheming, which features multiple factions using one another for their own private reason, and often through diobolical and subtle means: one man betrays another by delivering him into the hands of their mutual enemy, so that the betrayed man can serve as an instrument of reprisal by killing the mutual enemy! The world-building itself is compelling, with factions that are not “political” in the sense of being liked the House Atreides or the House Harkonnes, but utterly wrapped up in the politics: there are the Bene Gessirit, for instance, “weirding women” who are trained in mental and psi arts, and who are a bit like Jedi only they can’t do things like throw furniture or X-Wings around, but they also actively interfere in the life of society and the state in a kind of non-technical eugenics. They’re incredibly important to the plot given that Paul’s fate is tied up in their future reckonings, and his mother is one of their number. And then there’s the deep history, with plot-relevant consequences like the absence of computers — though I wonder if how that affects vehicles is ever really explored. Even B-29s in WW2 had some level of computerization! I especially enjoyed the way Herbert used literature and poetry from this world to illustrate it for the reader in the text, and his allusions to Earth culture (especially the Arabic world). The amount of pithy quotes was exceptional.
This book ends with quite the change for our main characters, and I’m interested in how things develop — though the descriptions for the next book seem pretty grim, so I’m very tempted to dip into the prequel novels by Herbert’s son Brian. At any rate, I can definitely understand why this series is so popular, and am looking forward to watching Dune Pt 2.
This book will hold a record for the title it took me the longest to complete, as I’ve been listening to it off and on since fall 2021, attracted by both the premise and (chiefly) the narrator, Stephen Fry — whose work I’ve loved so much in Blackadder and Jeeves and Wooster. Mythos is a collection and retelling of the foundational Greek myths, which begins chronologically before arriving at the Olympian age, at which point the stories are organized more thematically — stories of mortals and minor beings being punished for hubris, or stories of mortals being tested and found worthy or wanting. Although I’ve heard Fry voicing many characters before, I don’t know that someone can appreciate his sheer range without having experienced this, because he manages to convey a sense of imperious Zeus, a humiliated and pathetic Echo, mischievous old men and cocky young lads within the span of minutes. He probably displayed equal talents in his reading of the Harry Potter books, but we Americans had to settle for Jim Dale — no slouch, but surely not Stephen Fry. That said, this is not merely Stephen Fry reading a translation of the myths aloud: this is his own retelling, poignant and funny in its own right, and with frequent sidebars to make connections between the myths and our language, or human history more broadly. There’s also direct commentary: Fry does not approve of Alexander’s take on the Gordian knot. Although I’ve been distantly interested in Greek mythology all of my life, it’s been nearly twenty years since I read a full retelling of the myths proper — not since Edith Hamilton’s Mythology, perhaps. There were a great many tales here I’d forgotten or not heard before, and some I knew but only appreciated to a faint degree, like the many plights of King Midas. We speak of the Midas touch but without realizing what a tragedy that became! One new-to-me story was that of Arion, a musician who was thrown overboard so the crew could steal his goods: rescued by a dolphin, the boy showed up home early enough to tell his sale and commission a statue of the dolphin, which was used in a scene of marvelous comeuppance. The physical book, which I read from time to time, opens with useful family trees. Fry has recently produced Heroes, which covers lads like Heracles and Jason, and then Troy. I plan on trying those, and may do split-media like I did with this — doing some reading but more listening.
Reading Freely 
