phespirit.now:   words archive

Year 2008 reading matter

JOHN MAYNARD KEYNES
"The Economic Consequences Of The Peace"

"For one who spent in Paris the greater part of the six months which succeeded the Armistice an occasional visit to London was a strange experience. England still stands outside Europe. Europe's voiceless tremors do not reach her. Europe is apart and England is not of her flesh and body. But Europe is solid with herself. France, Germany, Italy, Austrua and Holland, Russia and Roumania and Poland, throb together, and their structure and civilisation are essentially one. They flourished together, they have rocked together in a war, which we, in spite of our enormous contributions and sacrifices (like though in a less degree than America), economically stood outside, and they may fall together. In this lies the destructive significance of the Peace of Paris. If the European Civil War is to end with France and Italy abusing their momentary victorious power to destroy Germany and Austria-Hungary now prostrate, they invite their own destruction also, being so deeply and inextricably intertwined with their victims by hidden psyche and economic bonds."
It is often said that humankind learns nothing from history but this landmark book at least provided an opportunity when it was published in 1919. Within its pages the great economist Keynes spells out in clear terms, piece by piece, why the treaty that ended the first world war would not only fail in its objectives, but would widen the divisions between nations and ultimately lead to even greater suffering. For an analysis of economics - potentially dry with detail - it is pleasingly easy to follow. Evidentally not easy enough for politicians and presidents in the nineteen twenties and thirties, however, as its warnings went unheeded. Analysts now regard it as having correctly foreseen the consequences that eventually lead to the rise of the German Nazi party.
"But who can say how much is endurable, or in what direction men will seek at last to escape from their misfortunes?"

MOMO KAPOR
"A Guide To The Serbian Mentality"

This book, purchased in Belgrade, might just as accurately have been called 'A Guide to Belgraders and Belgrade'. It is a collection of short articles written by Kapor for the 'distinguished' Serbian daily Politika and the monthly national airline magazine Jat Review, each one wryly yet affectionately picking apart some national trait or quirk of the Serbs. Probably the best manual of its kind since 'Tallinna Juht - A User's Guide To Tallinn', edited by Mari Laanemets and Andres Kurg. Some example insights:
"Another thing we could certainly get rich on if we could export it is - Inat. Although Serbs don't have a corresponding word for spleen, I don't think Anglo-Saxons have an adequate word for inat, something that is, of course, bound to make things harder on my translator. To assist hime I go to the Great Dictionary, where it explains: 'Deliberate, provocative behaviour against someone's will; defiance, quarrel, wrangling'. Most interesting is the fact that it was the Turks who first observed this trait among Serbs. Later, the rest of the world - due to this inat - either hated or admired us to excess. In brief, this word is at the very quick of our being; it was responsible for rebellions abnd uprisings, and explains why we went to war more often than other nations; inat was the reason we quarreled not only with others, but also with ourselves."

THEODORE STURGEON
"The Perfect Host - Volume 5: The Complete Stories Of"

Volume five of (now) eleven in chronological order covers the period from 1947 to 1949. The imagination of the man never ceases to impress. For example, the concept underlying his excellent 'Minority Report':
  "Slowly, with sick hands, Falu Englehart fired the jets and swung the ship about. Hawton cried, 'What are you doing?'
  Tiredly, Falu said, 'Going back, Horton. Back.'
  Hawton ran to the screen, 'They'll kill us! They'll kill us!'
  Falu glanced briefly at the seven ships. They were not moving. Still in a ring, they were motionaless, letting us leave them behind. 'They'd kill us if we went toward their planets, or any other sun in the universe but Sol - or one or two others. They won't kill us if we go home. They wanted us to know what we are. They've known it for ... for eons. And they want us to go home and tell our people. The fools!' he spat suddenly. 'Gryce surprised them. They didn't know we had advanced as far as capsule-flight. Gryce did it, and I followed, and they judge all humanity by Gryce. They don't know, they just don't know-'
  Hawton said he only partly understood. 'I mean, I know that when we contact them, there is an insane violence; but why? Why?'
  'They're contraterrene,' said Falu.
  Hawton grunted in surprise. 'I thought that was simply an idle amusement for theoretical physicists.'
  Falu waved at the screens. 'You saw.'
  'Contraterrene,' Hawton mused. 'Matter with the signs transposed - atoms with negative nuclei, and positive satellite-shells. And when terrene matter comes close, the whole thing becomes unstable and turns to energy. Falu! Were they telling us that the whole universe, except Sol and a few other outer-edge stars are contraterrene?' I think that only at that moment had Hawton received the full impact of what he had seen with his own eyes.
  Falu simply nodded tiredly.
  'And they have commerce - galaxy-wide commerce, and civilizations on every inhabitable planet, while we-'
  'We're in the corner. Excommunicade. Left to our own devices, as long as those devices don't bring us into contact with them,' Falu finished."

SHOTA RUSTAVELI
"The Knight In The Panther's Skin"

"I found this beautiful tale from Persia, a rare and exquisite pearl rolled on the palm of the hand, and have set it in a setting of Georgian verses."
So says Rustaveli in his prologue, as translated by Venera Urushadze. His epic poem written in the 12th century is regarded as the greatest classic of Georgian literature. Urushadze's blank verse hexameter translation of the one thousand, five hundred and eighty seven verses makes the story accessible and enjoyable for English language readers. It is a tale of honour, loyalty and devotion: between lovers and between friends. For those unlikely to read a complete epic mediæval Georgian poem, here is a synopsis:
  The venerable King Rostevan of Arabia is giving up his throne to his daughter Tinatin. The accession is celebrated by a banquet and royal hunt, during which the king and his entourage encounter a weeping knight wearing a panther's skin. The knight is deaf to the king's friendly advances. When slaves are sent forth to fetch him, he slays them and vanishes on his steed. Queen Tinatin summons her beloved Avtandil, commander of the royal army, and promises to marry him him if he can find the knight.
  After long and arduous travels Avtandil finds the knight, Tariel, dwelling in solitude with a faithful maid named Asmat. Tariel tells Avtandil that he is a prince and general of India, raised in the court of the Emperor, and lost in love for the Emperor's daughter, Nestan-Darejan. Nestan had been betrothed against her will to a Persian prince from Khvarazm so, at her request, Tariel slew him upon his arrival in India. In the riots that followed, Nestan was kidnapped and Tariel forced to flee. He arrived at the kingdom of Nuradin Pridon, whom he saved from assailants, and learned from Pridon that Nestan had arrived at and departed his shores, disappearing without trace. In despair, Tariel cut himself off from the world, withdrawing to the cave of the Devis, whom he had slain.
  Avtandil encourages Tariel and swears loyalty to him. He returns to Arabia, reports his news to Queen Tinatin, and then rejoins Tariel before setting off on a new quest to find Nestan. He arrives at the great trading centre of Gulansharo, where he meets Patman Khatun, wife of the city's leading merchant. She makes amorous advances on Avtandil and tells a tale that discloses the whereabouts of Nestan who, having escaped from Gulansharo with Patman's help, had been captured by the Kajis and was being held in a tall, heavily guarded tower. Avtandil returns to Tariel so that together they might rescue Nestan. First they open the Devis sealed chambers and discover wonderful armour and treasure. They ride out and join forces with Pridon and his army along the way. The three princes besiege the tower and liberate Nestan.
  Feasting and merrymaking follows, first at Pridon's palace in Mulghazanzar where Tariel and Nestan-Darejan are married. They then go to Arabia via the Tariel's cave, where Tariel gives Pridon the Devis' treasure. After celebrations with old King Rostevan, Tariel and Nestan-Darejan travel to India where they ascend the throne. Finally Avtandil and Tariel return to Arabia, where Avtandil is united with Tinatin in marriage, to reign in prosperity over the kingdom of Arabia.

J.O. WARDROP
"The Kingdom Of Georgia"

Sir John Oliver Wardrop, KBE, CMG became the United Kingdom's first Chief Commissioner of Transcaucasus in Georgia from 1919 to 1921. This book, however, was written and first published in 1888, when Wardrop was travelling through Georgia for the first time, aged just 24. It is a thoroughly enjoyable read, both as an account of his travels and of the wider history and politics of region. At a little over 200 pages, its economy and enthusiasm are its twin strengths. Phespirit picked up his copy at the excellent Parnassus Bookshop in Tbilisi.

GRIGOR NAREKATSI
"The Book Of Sadness"

Also known as "The Book Of Lamentations", this collections of prayers by the Armenian St. Gregory of Narek (951-1003) is over a thousand years old. It is extraordinarily sacred to Armenians, as well as being profoundly important to the evolution of the Armenian written word. All this importance does not necessarily make it a right riveting read but even in the English translation the language is complex and florid enough to keep it going. A version of the translation is online at: www.stgregoryofnarek.am.

MARK E. SMITH
"Renegade"

Mark E. Smith, long-serving frontman of The Fall, has produced the autobiography his fans could hitherto only dream about - lean, angry and uncompromising, spraying wit, profanity and stark opinions on and at any target that takes his fancy. It's intoxicating stuff for those who have followed his antics over the decades. Whether it would have the same appeal for newcomers is unlikely, but Smith is rarely to be accused of currying new sympathies. The best thing about this book, though, is that rather than adopting the tone and structure of a traditional life story, it reads much more like banter down the pub. There's a basic chronology to it but this merely serves to link up tangential digressions into literature, football, what's good on the telly, the working classes, settling scores, the trouble with musicians, a good drink, Manchester, the importance of quietness, old friends, fickle journalists, things that matter ..... the spirit of the man. It's a wonderful and frightening world, a fantastic life; Hip Priest.

MIKHAIL BULGAKOV
"The Master And Margarita"

A truly exceptional, outstandingly original, imaginative and inventive novel. Written seventy years ago in Moscow, it is the story of how the devil and his entourage visit the city, wreak mischief, murder and mayhem, have a ball and then leave. Simple. But whilst the premise is a familiar one, the interpretation, stylisation and characterisation are extraordinary. Any attempt to anticipate how the narrative unfolds will not even come close to Bulgakov's wonderfully singular vision. A definite one-off.

SID WADDELL
"Bellies And Bullseyes"

  "I will never forget the atmosphere in the players' bar before the firlst match. The players had a refreshment kitty, augmented by the Lipthorpe brothers who owned the club, and the tables groaned with lager and spirits. Rees and Jocky were on brander chasers, Tony Brown on gin and Lazerenko on anything wet. Just the ambience for the Fife Flyer to enjoy himself and entertain us all. Despite falling in the drums when he went to shake hands with one opponent, Jocky disposed of Tony Sontag, the holder, Tony Brown and Ceri Morgan. This set up a dream final, Jocky against world champion Eric Bristow.
  The game was the best of eleven legs and you could not have had a bigger contrast in attitudes. Jocky jumped, postured and bounced around the stage, obviously pissed. Eric looked aloof, in a parallel universe, snorting fag smoke, oblivious to the jeers of the crowd. For once, I broke the unwritten commentators' code, I had a pint of Cameron's best bitter halfway through the match. I needed no thesaurus. 'Jocky on the oche looking cocky,' just rolled out and 'Bristow is looking as sick as a chip.' The match went to 5-5 in legs and the Fiesta was rocking. Eric wanted double 10 for the match and missed. Jocky went out from 75.
  He had time for a pint and yet another large brandy before the rpesentation. It was to be made by John Ecclestone, a senior BBC executive and sticler for protocol. I was standing behind him on stage and he whispered to me with a frown: 'I don't think nicknames are appropriate here. Do you know Jocky's real name?'
  I winced, waited a moment and said: 'John Thomas Wilson.'
  Pregnant pause. 'Right - I'll call him Jocky.'"
What's not to love about Sid Waddell? It is utterly impossible to imagine how the tone of television darts commentary might have evolved without his contribution, and equally hard to imagine how it might have been better. The man has carved his own niche and created his own genre; he survived the negative backlash and emerged a legend. He's far from perfect, but that's exactly the point. He's a fan among fans: sometimes articulate, sometimes inspired, always passionate, always loyal. A proper man of the people and a true champion for the sport he loves. This is the story of his life in darts (as opposed to the story of his life: he skips from no mention of family to suddenly having five kids), and it's never less than extraordinary. How much more extraordinary must be the recollections he inevitably would have left out on grounds of taste, tact or legal advice? Sterling stuff.

JAMES BOSWELL
"Life Of Johnson (Unabridged)"

At a mighty 1402 pages - with a further 36 for the introduction (Oxford World's Classics edition) - this biography is great in every sense, mirroring its subject. Boswell does not disect or pick apart the life and character of Samual Johnson. Rather he builds it up, layer upon layer, just as a Buddhist devotee will take an unornamented statue and slowly, deliberately, reverentially, apply tiny leafs of gold over many years to create a glorious, dazzling, fully-gilded icon as fitting tribute in a dull world. Johnson himself never appears dull; setting aside his single-minded Toryism and devout Christianity, his every recorded saying could be regarded as pure, crystalised wisdom. His more mundane concerns are reflected through the inclusion of selected letters. These are anchored as beacons of plodding reality within the ocean of philosophy. Anecdotes presenting the sharpest of Johnson's wit come early in the book, usually at the expense of some other group or individual, and often in a manner that is unlikely to be revived from the eighteenth century. For example:
"Dr. Adams found him one day busy at his Dictionary, when the following dialogue ensued. 'ADAMS. This is a great work, Sir. How are you to get all the etymologies? JOHNSON. Why, Sir, here is a shelf with Junius, and Skinner, and others; and there is a Welch gentleman who has published a collection of Welch proverbs, who will help me with the Welch. ADAMS. But, Sir, how can you do this in three years? JOHNSON. I have no doubt I can do it in three years. ADAMS. But the French Academy, which consists of forty members, took forty years to compile their Dictionary. JOHNSON. Sir, thus it is. This is the proportion. Let me see; forty times forty is sixteen hundred. As three to sixteen hundred, so is the proportion of an Englishman to a Frenchman.'"
"Sir Joshua told me of a pleasant characteristical anecdote of Johnson about the time of their first acquaintance. When they were one evening together at the Miss Cotterells', the then Duchess of Argyle and another lady of high rank came in. Johnson thinking that the Miss Cotterells were too much engrossed by them, and that he and his friend were neglected, as low company of whom they were somewhat ashamed, grew angry; and resolving to shock their supposed pride, by making their great visitors imagine that his friend and he were low indeed, he addressed himself in a loud tone to Mr. Reynolds, saying, 'How much do you think you and I could get in a week, if we were to work as hard as we could?' - as if they had been common mechanicks."
"Next day, Sunday, July 31, I told him I had been that morning at a meeting of the people called Quakers, where I had heard a woman preach. JOHNSON. 'Sir, a woman's preaching is like a dog walking on its hinder legs. It is not done well; but you are surprized to find it done at all.'"
All in all, a constantly interesting view of an intriguing man, his mind and morality, the circles in which he moved, and the times in which he lived.

EDGAR ALLEN POE
"The Narrative Of Arthur Gordon Pym Of Nantucket, And Related Tales"

This book is the Master of the Unnatural's one attempt at that which did not come naturally to him: writing a novel rather than a short story. The fact that it is a very short novel, and one structured like a sequence of short stories that could stand in isolation, is neither here nor there. Whilst fault picking, it could also be noted that there are a number of continuity errors and lost threads, but no matter; it is Poe, and remains a grimly compelling read through all adversities. Among the 'Related Tales' in this Oxford World's Classic compilation, 'The Pit and the Pendulum' is the star - quite unlike the Roger Corman movie of the same name, which is wonderful in its own macabre way.