Confession: I am never in a million years going to remember all of the different historical "princes" that Machiavelli outlines as examples in The Prince. The only ones that I knew any amount about were Emperor Commodus (not gonna lie, I only know about him because of Gladiator, and Hollywood-creative-license-news-flash: Commodus did not kill his father. His father died from plague) and King Ferdinand of Spain (mostly because of his commission of Christopher Columbus to travel west in search of a trade route to Asia...and well, you know how that ended up. Plus, there was a Bugs Bunny cartoon that we used to watch when we were little, where he sings a song about Ferdinand. And "his good queen Isabella, gave the jewels to her fella..."). Similar to reading The Divine Comedy, I'm just not going to end up being a buff on ancient Italian history. Maybe some of it will stick, I hope.
So as background, Machiavelli described the contents of The Prince as "being an unembellished summary of his knowledge about the nature of princes and the actions of great men based not only on reading but real experience." Each chapter discusses different qualities or concepts for princes to follow and then uses historical examples to support.
So in lieu of remembering the details of all of the historical leaders presented, it was easier for me to focus on the overall concepts presented in The Prince and the qualities that Machiavelli presented as being required for a prince's success. And even then, I think because most of the world doesn't live under a monarchy anymore with power being seized and overtaken, it was hard to connect with some of the concepts. For example, needing the prince to focus all of his energies on war seemed a bit antiquated to me. Maybe because our political make-up greatly differs from how it did in Italy 500 years ago, that not a lot about today's political system seemed to resemble that. And maybe, more than anything, I'm a little naive to think that it's not an issue, because I'm fortunate to live in a country where we do have strong armed forces and peace.
And in the end, I do now know what Machiavellian means from actually reading The Prince. The concept that the ends justify the means, even if immoral tactics are used to make that happen. And I can't say that I necessarily agree with the concept, because it seems as though it has been twisted as an excuse to forgive any manner of sins in selfish pursuits. I think someone who used that approach today and actually didn't think there was anything wrong with it would probably be considered a sociopath. Although it does sound a lot like Kwame...
So on I move to The Age of Innocence. I seriously need to have a movie day soon too. Most of the books I've read lately have movies that were made about them, and I just haven't gotten around to watching most of these yet. Today sounds like as good a day as any. 248 to go. Hoping my progress will speed up. Here's to making that happen.
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Monday, February 18, 2013
"The Devil You Know is Better Than the Devil You Don't"
For a while during my morning commute, I used to listen to multiple different podcasts of short stories. There was This American Life, Selected Shorts through PRI, and my personal favorite, the New Yorker Fiction. In this podcast, authors are invited to select a story from the magazine's archives and read it. Then the author and host would have a discussion about the story after the reading was done.
What I learned from listening to these podcasts (and also as anyone who has written a short story has probably learned) is that, with much less real estate to convey a complete narrative, every word in a short story is deliberate and needs to pack a punch. Given that my free subscription to satellite radio just ran out last week, I suspect it's time for me to get back on board with listening to my short story podcasts. There's a lot to be appreciated about an excellently written short story. And holy crap does Flannery O'Connor do this masterfully.
The actual book of A Good Man is Hard to Find consists of 10 different short stories. And after having read through them all together, there is a vein of similarities across the stories. They're all set in the south (usually Georgia) in roughly the 1940's, and all tend to have 1 character who is strong-willed, a bit of a know-it-all, often smug, and usually also cynical about religion and belief in God. These characters don't usually meet a very good end. There is a very dark, sinister, and often tragic theme that permeates the stories; as innocuous as they start out, there is often a very disturbing turn the story takes, which startled me on many occassions. The title story, A Good Man is Hard to Find, is the first story presented in the book, and needless to say, I didn't expect the crotchety Grandma, bratty kids, and ambivalent parents to meet an unfortunate end at the hands of an escaped convict. Nor did I expect a small boy to drown himself in a river in the next story. I know, heavy duty right?
But the thing about these flawed characters is that they usually come to a realization about the misguided views they've held, usually as a result of very dramatic circumstances. Oft times it's too late for them to do anything about it, but each story has a sense of mercy, salvation, and redemption for those who turn themselves over to it. The idea that there is good in even the most evil is present in the stories, and very often those who appear to be good are evil and vice versa.
Overall, I LOVED each and every one of the stories. The remind me of what brilliant writing can and should be, particularly that for short stories. How each description can tell you so much more about what is really going on and where the story is headed. They had so much more to say without saying it out loud, but the concepts weren't so far out there that I would finish reading the story thinking, "Huh? WTF was that all about?"
So on I roll to The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli. I hope this won't torture me too much, but we'll see. I guess anticipating to not enjoy it sets me up to be pleasantly surprised, right?
Only 249 books to go. Happy Monday.
What I learned from listening to these podcasts (and also as anyone who has written a short story has probably learned) is that, with much less real estate to convey a complete narrative, every word in a short story is deliberate and needs to pack a punch. Given that my free subscription to satellite radio just ran out last week, I suspect it's time for me to get back on board with listening to my short story podcasts. There's a lot to be appreciated about an excellently written short story. And holy crap does Flannery O'Connor do this masterfully.
The actual book of A Good Man is Hard to Find consists of 10 different short stories. And after having read through them all together, there is a vein of similarities across the stories. They're all set in the south (usually Georgia) in roughly the 1940's, and all tend to have 1 character who is strong-willed, a bit of a know-it-all, often smug, and usually also cynical about religion and belief in God. These characters don't usually meet a very good end. There is a very dark, sinister, and often tragic theme that permeates the stories; as innocuous as they start out, there is often a very disturbing turn the story takes, which startled me on many occassions. The title story, A Good Man is Hard to Find, is the first story presented in the book, and needless to say, I didn't expect the crotchety Grandma, bratty kids, and ambivalent parents to meet an unfortunate end at the hands of an escaped convict. Nor did I expect a small boy to drown himself in a river in the next story. I know, heavy duty right?
But the thing about these flawed characters is that they usually come to a realization about the misguided views they've held, usually as a result of very dramatic circumstances. Oft times it's too late for them to do anything about it, but each story has a sense of mercy, salvation, and redemption for those who turn themselves over to it. The idea that there is good in even the most evil is present in the stories, and very often those who appear to be good are evil and vice versa.
Overall, I LOVED each and every one of the stories. The remind me of what brilliant writing can and should be, particularly that for short stories. How each description can tell you so much more about what is really going on and where the story is headed. They had so much more to say without saying it out loud, but the concepts weren't so far out there that I would finish reading the story thinking, "Huh? WTF was that all about?"
So on I roll to The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli. I hope this won't torture me too much, but we'll see. I guess anticipating to not enjoy it sets me up to be pleasantly surprised, right?
Only 249 books to go. Happy Monday.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
"...Extreme Poverty, Almost Always a Cruel Stepmother, is Sometimes a Mother; Privation Gives Birth to Power of Soul and Mind"
I read LesMisérables about 4 to 5 years ago, and, like Moby Dick, it took the good portion of the year for me to complete it. My problem with long books like that is that they become a burden. And Les Misérables is not named Les Misérables for nothin'. It's 829 pages of misery and poverty in 19th century France. I guess for me, that, while overall a brilliant read, it just wasn't a riveting page-turner.
Which I guess is why I shouldn't have been surprised that I felt almost exactly the same way about Les Misérables, the movie. As a side note, I had never seen the stage musical, so from frame 1 of the movie, I was thrown off by the fact that EVERYTHING was sang, all the way through. I am a mad lover of movie musicals - don't get me started, or you may find yourself suffering through my renditions of "Moses Supposes" or "Sisters" - but most movie musicals usually only have songs interspersed between dialogue. Whereas this was all singing! All the time! Which just wasn't my favorite. And this was probably just my naïveté of having not seen the stage version, but sing-songy talking just takes away a bit from the action for me.
But my main problem with the movie was, like the book, it was so friggin' long! Yes, I get that they're spanning ~17 years worth of time across like 10 main characters, so there's a wholelotta story to jam pack in there. Plus, I'd imagine when Hollywood is spending big bucks for a sweeping epic movie like this, they're going to make it worth your (their?) while. But I kept thinking during the movie, if I was at home, I would be fast-forwarding through many of the songs; I think because they were singing the whole time, when it came to a main character's solo song, it just wasn't that monumental to me. Also because I knew the story line, I probably had a bit of a "C'mon let's get on with it!" attitude about it.
So overall, mehhhhh, it was just ok. It's worth seeing it for Hugh Jackman's and Anne Hathaway's performances (seriously, when she finished singing "I Dreamed a Dream" I think I actually said "Fuckin' A" out loud in the definitely-not-empty theatre), but maybe save it for leisurely at-home fast forwarding.
In other news, I have 2 more short stories in A Good Man is Hard to Find. Which I'm planning on banging out today. So if you're lucky, you'll get 2 posts in one day. TTFN.
Which I guess is why I shouldn't have been surprised that I felt almost exactly the same way about Les Misérables, the movie. As a side note, I had never seen the stage musical, so from frame 1 of the movie, I was thrown off by the fact that EVERYTHING was sang, all the way through. I am a mad lover of movie musicals - don't get me started, or you may find yourself suffering through my renditions of "Moses Supposes" or "Sisters" - but most movie musicals usually only have songs interspersed between dialogue. Whereas this was all singing! All the time! Which just wasn't my favorite. And this was probably just my naïveté of having not seen the stage version, but sing-songy talking just takes away a bit from the action for me.
But my main problem with the movie was, like the book, it was so friggin' long! Yes, I get that they're spanning ~17 years worth of time across like 10 main characters, so there's a wholelotta story to jam pack in there. Plus, I'd imagine when Hollywood is spending big bucks for a sweeping epic movie like this, they're going to make it worth your (their?) while. But I kept thinking during the movie, if I was at home, I would be fast-forwarding through many of the songs; I think because they were singing the whole time, when it came to a main character's solo song, it just wasn't that monumental to me. Also because I knew the story line, I probably had a bit of a "C'mon let's get on with it!" attitude about it.
So overall, mehhhhh, it was just ok. It's worth seeing it for Hugh Jackman's and Anne Hathaway's performances (seriously, when she finished singing "I Dreamed a Dream" I think I actually said "Fuckin' A" out loud in the definitely-not-empty theatre), but maybe save it for leisurely at-home fast forwarding.
In other news, I have 2 more short stories in A Good Man is Hard to Find. Which I'm planning on banging out today. So if you're lucky, you'll get 2 posts in one day. TTFN.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
"I'll Get Bowled Over by a Dizzying Love for a Girl I've Only Glimpsed"
So I guess because I pre-identified Davy Rothbart as a writer in the same vein of the other Davids/Daves (Sedaris and Eggers, respectively), I kind of locked myself in to a certain expectation of the writing, tone and overall gist of My Heart is an Idiot. And in many cases, it was true (hey, there's a review from Eggers right on the back cover, so this wasn't just me lumping them together. So there).
There were Sedaris' road-warrior hitchiking-esque stories of Rothbart's many encounters with strangers, which in my opinion, is the strength of the book. We all have had those one-off insane nights where the events as they pass could certainly feel impossibly uncanny, and straight out of a book or movie (for me, a road trip to Chicago during my senior year in college with Jenny, Parini, and Jenny comes to mind, where we chatted up our waiter at the ESPNZone restaurant and ended up spending the entire night at a house party of his friend's and watching the sun come up over Lake Michigan, eating blowpops, in one of the parks somewhere along Lake Shore Drive. But really, who goes to Chicago to go eat at the ESPNZone restaurant??). But these stories are told very well, and again, some seem so hard to believe, that it makes them that much more compelling.
But many of the stories focus on the author's complete obsession with falling in love and an non-existant ideal woman that he has created. No really, the woman is fictional. An entire story in the book is devoted to trying to will a fictional movie character to life. The attitude about this is completely fascinating to me, particularly to read it coming from a man. I know many many women who get all crazy obsessive when they meet and start dating a guy (maybe not necessarily when they first lay eyes on him): that he's the one, that felt more right than any other relationship before, that this is what they've been waiting for all along, etc etc. Similar sentiments are prevalent throughout the book.
I fully acknowledge that I don't necessarily spend significant amounts of time digging into the emotional persona of my male friends and their inner-feelings about love and relationships, but it just seemed very abnormal to me, coming from a guy. But I applaud Mr. Rothbart's honesty and willingness to make himself that vulnerable to every reader who picks up the book. It's not often that you can find a guy with that kind of passionate desire for mad love and also a big pair of cajones.
Overall, I'd highly recommend. The writing is fun and witty, and maybe because I lived in Ann Arbor for a while and grew up in Michigan, I appreciated many of the anecdotes even more (although, I have not ever been to Brewskies...although I'm suspiciously wondering if Brewskies is actually Frasier's and the name was changed). It's a quick read, and I don't think many who read it will be disappointed.
So now I'm on to Flannery O'Connor's, A Good Man is Hard to Find. I was a bit torn about which book to read next; I've had Machiavelli's, The Prince sitting on my shelf for a good year, and I'm just not ready to delve into a book that might require me to have a poli sci professor handy to work out some of the themes. But on the upside, as Russ pointed out, it's short. I guess I'll have it on deck next time. Later.
There were Sedaris' road-warrior hitchiking-esque stories of Rothbart's many encounters with strangers, which in my opinion, is the strength of the book. We all have had those one-off insane nights where the events as they pass could certainly feel impossibly uncanny, and straight out of a book or movie (for me, a road trip to Chicago during my senior year in college with Jenny, Parini, and Jenny comes to mind, where we chatted up our waiter at the ESPNZone restaurant and ended up spending the entire night at a house party of his friend's and watching the sun come up over Lake Michigan, eating blowpops, in one of the parks somewhere along Lake Shore Drive. But really, who goes to Chicago to go eat at the ESPNZone restaurant??). But these stories are told very well, and again, some seem so hard to believe, that it makes them that much more compelling.
But many of the stories focus on the author's complete obsession with falling in love and an non-existant ideal woman that he has created. No really, the woman is fictional. An entire story in the book is devoted to trying to will a fictional movie character to life. The attitude about this is completely fascinating to me, particularly to read it coming from a man. I know many many women who get all crazy obsessive when they meet and start dating a guy (maybe not necessarily when they first lay eyes on him): that he's the one, that felt more right than any other relationship before, that this is what they've been waiting for all along, etc etc. Similar sentiments are prevalent throughout the book.
I fully acknowledge that I don't necessarily spend significant amounts of time digging into the emotional persona of my male friends and their inner-feelings about love and relationships, but it just seemed very abnormal to me, coming from a guy. But I applaud Mr. Rothbart's honesty and willingness to make himself that vulnerable to every reader who picks up the book. It's not often that you can find a guy with that kind of passionate desire for mad love and also a big pair of cajones.
Overall, I'd highly recommend. The writing is fun and witty, and maybe because I lived in Ann Arbor for a while and grew up in Michigan, I appreciated many of the anecdotes even more (although, I have not ever been to Brewskies...although I'm suspiciously wondering if Brewskies is actually Frasier's and the name was changed). It's a quick read, and I don't think many who read it will be disappointed.
So now I'm on to Flannery O'Connor's, A Good Man is Hard to Find. I was a bit torn about which book to read next; I've had Machiavelli's, The Prince sitting on my shelf for a good year, and I'm just not ready to delve into a book that might require me to have a poli sci professor handy to work out some of the themes. But on the upside, as Russ pointed out, it's short. I guess I'll have it on deck next time. Later.
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
"I Was Taught to Desire Nothing, to Swallow Other People's Misery, To Eat My Own Bitterness"
So while the snow comes down here in Detroit, it seemed like the perfect day to cuddle on the couch and finally finish the damn Joy Luck Club. I have absolutely no excuses for why it took me 2 months to read The Joy Luck Club. I really very much enjoyed the interesting stories of all the different women, the dynamics of mothers and daughters, and it was tremendously well written. I just don't know what my deal was for this book. As I mentioned in the previous post, part of it was leaving too much time between picking the book up again. Every time, I would have to go sorting through the previous chapters to figure out which mother went with which daughter, and which story belonged to which woman. Which one was the chess champion, which one was the daughter of the concubine, which one was the one that was married and kept details of every penny she and her husband spent.?Thank goodness there was a match-up of character names before the story even started. I have a feeling that if I read the book straight through, I would be here ranting and raving about what an absolutely brilliant book I thought this was and how much I loved it. So I guess this time around, I spoiled the reading experience for myself. Whatareyougonnado?
The one thing that did very much fascinate me about the book, and where I found myself dog-earing pages, was in the interesting ways the Chinese women (predominantly the mothers) viewed things, in a way that is so very different from the way that I view things, or I think different from how most Westernized individuals view things. How throwing away leftover coffee means you're throwing your blessings away. How having thin ears close to your head means you cannot hear luck calling to you. How opening your bedroom windows at night would hopefully blow a spirit and heart back to you.
I know I can't appreciate, or really even understand many of these similar pieces of Chinese wisdom peppered throughout the book. It really is a foreign way of thinking to me that I can't grasp, probably because I was not raised believing in the same way and it is not a part of my own culture. I'm sure in many ways it is impossible to every really understand someone else's upbringing, their heritage, and how these things contribute to each individual and who they have become as a person. However, where this book seems to transcend any specific cultural norms, is in the basic idea that you are a result of the fabric of your family whether you like it or not. You can embrace a different way of life, or be ashamed of your culture or family, but it's still part of you. Maybe I'm just thinking in terms of my own family and the different twisting, turning paths all of our lives have taken, only to end up smack where we started, with each other's company and love, whether we try to fight it or not. I guess that's the most important thing that I'll take away from this book. And what a lucky girl I am to have all of the memorable, wonderful times with my family that I do. And especially to have the amazing, strong, insightful mother that I do as well. Worth the 2 months trudging through the book to at the very least be able to take that away.
So on I move to a new book. I'm taking a brief pause from my reading lists to a book that one of my co-workers gave to me to read. I know I previously mentioned that I'm not always a fan of taking book suggestions from other people, but I did give this particular co-worker a book to read that I recommended to her, so it doesn't rightly seem fair to not read what she gave to me. Plus, the writer, Davy Rothbart is locally from Ann Arbor, and my good friend Amy is also a big fan and has mentioned what a great book My Heart is an Idiot is. I'm a sucker for autobiographical humorous stories (obsess about David Sedaris and Dave Eggers much, Lisa? Plus, it's kind of strange that all of their names are different variations of the same...), so I suspect this book will be read in no time. Particularly if it keeps snowing the way it is now. Plus it was considered one of Amazon's best books of 2012. And as evidenced by the entire concept of this blog, I'm kinda a fan of book lists, can'tcha tell?
250 books left to go. Enjoy the rest of 2012!
The one thing that did very much fascinate me about the book, and where I found myself dog-earing pages, was in the interesting ways the Chinese women (predominantly the mothers) viewed things, in a way that is so very different from the way that I view things, or I think different from how most Westernized individuals view things. How throwing away leftover coffee means you're throwing your blessings away. How having thin ears close to your head means you cannot hear luck calling to you. How opening your bedroom windows at night would hopefully blow a spirit and heart back to you.
I know I can't appreciate, or really even understand many of these similar pieces of Chinese wisdom peppered throughout the book. It really is a foreign way of thinking to me that I can't grasp, probably because I was not raised believing in the same way and it is not a part of my own culture. I'm sure in many ways it is impossible to every really understand someone else's upbringing, their heritage, and how these things contribute to each individual and who they have become as a person. However, where this book seems to transcend any specific cultural norms, is in the basic idea that you are a result of the fabric of your family whether you like it or not. You can embrace a different way of life, or be ashamed of your culture or family, but it's still part of you. Maybe I'm just thinking in terms of my own family and the different twisting, turning paths all of our lives have taken, only to end up smack where we started, with each other's company and love, whether we try to fight it or not. I guess that's the most important thing that I'll take away from this book. And what a lucky girl I am to have all of the memorable, wonderful times with my family that I do. And especially to have the amazing, strong, insightful mother that I do as well. Worth the 2 months trudging through the book to at the very least be able to take that away.
So on I move to a new book. I'm taking a brief pause from my reading lists to a book that one of my co-workers gave to me to read. I know I previously mentioned that I'm not always a fan of taking book suggestions from other people, but I did give this particular co-worker a book to read that I recommended to her, so it doesn't rightly seem fair to not read what she gave to me. Plus, the writer, Davy Rothbart is locally from Ann Arbor, and my good friend Amy is also a big fan and has mentioned what a great book My Heart is an Idiot is. I'm a sucker for autobiographical humorous stories (obsess about David Sedaris and Dave Eggers much, Lisa? Plus, it's kind of strange that all of their names are different variations of the same...), so I suspect this book will be read in no time. Particularly if it keeps snowing the way it is now. Plus it was considered one of Amazon's best books of 2012. And as evidenced by the entire concept of this blog, I'm kinda a fan of book lists, can'tcha tell?
250 books left to go. Enjoy the rest of 2012!
Sunday, December 2, 2012
"And Each Week We Could Hope to Be Lucky"
I've been very distracted and not so motivated to read lately. It happens. It comes and goes. Sometimes I'll fly right through books like crazy, and sometimes I just can't even pick up a book, even though it's short and tremendously entertaining. I dug right into The Joy Luck Club, but have stalled. Not for lack of interest, just eh. I don't know. Not getting around to it I guess. Plus, I keep forgetting where I left off and keep confusing the characters, so every time I pick it back up, I have to retrace who is who and what is going on.
But the holidays come around and usually that's all I want to do for 2 weeks straight is read. So I'm sure I'll get back on track then.
Progress: pg 149/288. I'll get it going, I swear.
Happy Sunday!
But the holidays come around and usually that's all I want to do for 2 weeks straight is read. So I'm sure I'll get back on track then.
Progress: pg 149/288. I'll get it going, I swear.
Happy Sunday!
Saturday, October 27, 2012
"The Horror! The Horror!"
You may think it in the Halloween spirit that the title of the post includes the word "horror", but it's actually one of the more iconic phrases in Heart of Darkness. Reflecting the realization of the narrator of the dispicable, awful ways Kurtz, a Belgian colonist gone mad, exploited and slaughtered natives in what is now known as the Congo. Nothing light-hearted (as perhaps the title might imply) or Halloween-y festive about it.
So to back up, the book I read actually contained 4 of Joseph Conrad's short stories: Youth, Heart of Darkness (which was a little over 100 pages, certainly not full-blown novel length), Amy Foster, and The Secret Sharer. Of those, I actually liked The Secret Sharer the best, mostly because it had kind of this surreal feeling to the story, from the plot to the writing. I actually questioned a few times whether the story was being told as actually occurring (a sailor who murdered another sailor on his own ship swims multiple miles to a nearby ship only to be concealed by the captain, who refers to the castaway as 'his second self') or if I was to believe that the castaway murderer was a figment of the captain's imagination/lunacy. There were so many things that seem implausible and odd. I just kind of enjoyed reading this story best.
But then for Heart of Darkness. I didn't really know anything about how European colonists exploited and decimated African cultures during colonization, although I don't know why I should expect it would be all that different than the same that occurred to Native Americans here. While I don't imgaine that forcefully claiming lands and peoples as part of your own country would happen peacefully, with all bunny rabbits and roses, I certainly didn't know about the horrific things that occurred. Particularly with Belgium and the Congo. Human heads on stakes? Check. Cutting off hands of those who didn't produce what was expected? Check.
I think that this kind of story should be required reading, lest we forget the evilness that can inhabit once good people in the pursuit of financial gains and power. While it happened a long time ago, it certainly doesn't feel like it couldn't happen today (or that it isn't currently happening today...I can't admit to being knowledgable about cultures and conflicts of the world).
Up next, a shift in focus to Amy Tan's, The Joy Luck Club. I need a serious break from books about ships, and sailing, and evil, and the sea. Between Moby Dick and these short stories by Joseph Conrad, I've spent like 8 months of this year reading about ships, so much that I'm pretty sure I could hop aboard a schooner and be a skipper for sure.
Progress: 251 books left to read.
So to back up, the book I read actually contained 4 of Joseph Conrad's short stories: Youth, Heart of Darkness (which was a little over 100 pages, certainly not full-blown novel length), Amy Foster, and The Secret Sharer. Of those, I actually liked The Secret Sharer the best, mostly because it had kind of this surreal feeling to the story, from the plot to the writing. I actually questioned a few times whether the story was being told as actually occurring (a sailor who murdered another sailor on his own ship swims multiple miles to a nearby ship only to be concealed by the captain, who refers to the castaway as 'his second self') or if I was to believe that the castaway murderer was a figment of the captain's imagination/lunacy. There were so many things that seem implausible and odd. I just kind of enjoyed reading this story best.
But then for Heart of Darkness. I didn't really know anything about how European colonists exploited and decimated African cultures during colonization, although I don't know why I should expect it would be all that different than the same that occurred to Native Americans here. While I don't imgaine that forcefully claiming lands and peoples as part of your own country would happen peacefully, with all bunny rabbits and roses, I certainly didn't know about the horrific things that occurred. Particularly with Belgium and the Congo. Human heads on stakes? Check. Cutting off hands of those who didn't produce what was expected? Check.
I think that this kind of story should be required reading, lest we forget the evilness that can inhabit once good people in the pursuit of financial gains and power. While it happened a long time ago, it certainly doesn't feel like it couldn't happen today (or that it isn't currently happening today...I can't admit to being knowledgable about cultures and conflicts of the world).
Up next, a shift in focus to Amy Tan's, The Joy Luck Club. I need a serious break from books about ships, and sailing, and evil, and the sea. Between Moby Dick and these short stories by Joseph Conrad, I've spent like 8 months of this year reading about ships, so much that I'm pretty sure I could hop aboard a schooner and be a skipper for sure.
Progress: 251 books left to read.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)